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zhongrin · 4 months

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festered wounds

— when you’ve never been the first choice your whole life, it’s hard to accept the possibility that you could be loved.

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, this is more of a vent drabble, hurt with comfort, reader with massive insecurity issues, implied past trauma, slight blood & gore in the portrayal of ‘hurt’

✼ a/n ┈ this…. got really personal, haha. i wrote this in a bad headspace, so apologies if it got depressing or if it’s of a low quality. i didn't want to have this in my drafts and i certainly don't want to bring it to 2024 so i'm just posting this now.

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

“i’m sorry.”

zhongli’s heart dropped at the words escaping your lips. this was certainly the most unexpected response you could give to his confession, seeing the promising recent developments in your relationship — and so celestia forgive him, he had to pause to gather his thoughts. this made you fidget even more under his gaze, and so you succumbed to your frazzled nerves to continue in a more panicked voice.

“i’m sorry, mr. zhongli, i know you’re not the type to resort to deceit or find joy in toying with people’s feelings, but i’m just— i can’t—” you trailed off, feeling your chest tighten in pain.

“please, hold your tongue for a moment,” the refined man held out one of his hand to settle onto your shoulder comfortingly. his expression was a mixture of worry and confusion, eyebrows furrowing in a sign of distress. “are you saying that you… do not believe my words? you think i have malicious intentions?”

“….. i’m sorry, i’m just not used to- i’ve never-” you stumbled over your words and squeezed your eyes shut, “i’m sorry….”

zhongli watched you for a moment, observing the smallest ticks and the story behind your body language. you looked so vulnerable, like a scared animal instinctively cowering at some invisible threat. you looked as if someone had stripped away a bandage that had been haphazardly wrapped around a wound left unattended for so long, it had festered into an abomination, eating away at you slowly, even now.

belatedly, he realized that ‘someone’ was himself.

zhongli inhaled deeply, his palm leaving your shoulder. this time, he took his hands to tenderly grab your fingers, lifting them up to silently plead for your attention. your eyes were troubled and full of storms, the rain and lighting reflecting on your expression as a solemn flutter of your eyelashes and sorrowful downturn of your lips. the slight tremble of your body reflected the silent call for help from a blemished heart that never had the courage to forget.

“my dearest. i see the pain you have gone through. i have yet to know the tales that had marred your heart, but i want you to know that i am willing to be the pair of ears you tell your grievances to, and you can be rest assured that they will be safe with me. i know my words will not be enough to convince you otherwise at this moment… however, you must forgive my impatience, for it stems out of genuine love. i simply must humbly ask once again—”

“— please, give me a chance to heal you.”

“a-are you sure you want me?”

out of the 18 different responses he anticipated, al haitham did not expect this. however, his surprise merely manifested in the rising of both of his eyebrows and the subtle shift on his legs.

“unlike the consensus the public seemed to have one-sidedly agreed on, i am not foolish enough in the matter of romance as to confess to someone i do not hold deep affection and great care for,” he said in the same tone as the moment he asked if you would consider taking your relationship into the ‘officially dating’ phase, “is it not obvious? kaveh claimed i was ‘laying it on thick’ and cyno had noted of how i treat you better than how i treat the dendro archon.”

“oh….”

“….”

you thought you had gotten used to al haitham’s stare with how much you both had been hanging out, but right now you couldn’t seem to lift your head. the scholar crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your response. you were both gratuitous and dreading his resilience.

“i-i still think you could do better, though. i mean, look at you! you’re so fit, so wouldn’t you feel better if your partner is more of the sporty type? and you’re the top graduate of the haravatat darshan, so you would pair better with someone smarter…. a-and someone like me will just drag you down; aesthetically speaking, i… uh, leave much to be desired while you’re… you know…”

you spoke of such illogical assumptions and erroneous advices that he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. you spoke of belittling yourself as if you were used to riding on the rails of insurmountably low dip of the self-esteem cliff for years. you spoke of these things as if you were repeating words someone told you at least once in your life.

and it angered him.

but he wasn’t angry at you. he was angry for you.

funny how empathy wasn’t his strong suit, and yet he jumped on the bandwagon as easily as an otter taking off into the waters the moment it came to you and your emotions.

“i care not for such shallow qualifications when it comes to seeking a partner. your presence triggers the relevant hormones that make me feel relaxed and comfortable, and my mind spontaneously seek for your attention. it’s only logical that i seek for an arrangement that would ensure these pleasant things to happen and develop further.”

“you’re the best choice for a partner, simply because i wish to spend the rest of my life with you; and i think that's enough.”

“i don’t think i’m a good choice for you…”

wriothesley looked as if you had pinpointed his weak point in a boxing match and delivered a straight jab right onto it. his lips slacked open and his body froze as he tried to process your words, the meaning behind it, the—

he inhaled deeply and punched his own fist into his palm, stretching his jaw with a growl before a darker tone took over his voice.

“alright, who’s been talking shit? let me at them. it won’t be manslaughter if they don’t die, right?”

he watched as your nervously fiddling fingers stopped twisting around each other, your eyes widened in shock and alarm at his words. briefly, he praised himself inwardly for being able to switch your mood at the snap of his fingers. now if only he could do that, but instead of surprise-and-horror, it could turn into surprise-and-joy instead…

“what?! wait- no! no one said that, i ju—”

“then is your own head telling you that?”

“it’s—” you gulped, gaze slowly breaking away.

he sensed a secret kept safe under the heaviest chains and locks. pain that had nearly torn up that warm heart of yours, shoved into the furthest part of you in a desperate attempt to save yourself; to silence the damned screams and the river of curses that would have made you self-destruct. he saw the remains of the thousands of needles that had embedded itself deep inside your worn heart a long time ago, and yet still it beat and struggled to not bleed out and drown you in its venomous blood.

he saw a heart as scarred as his skin, and he understood.

“..… alright, sweetheart, listen up, and listen close.”

the man’s hands suddenly cradled your cheeks, his icy blue eyes penetrating your clouded gaze. his whole demeanor had shifted into gentle and loving, as if he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. he resisted the urge to kiss you when you couldn’t help but lean onto his touch, instinctively seeking comfort.

he would do you better. he would give you the kind of love you’ve yet to experience. there were so much he wanted to say, but he chose to speak of the reassurance he thought you needed most at this moment.

“i say you’re the perfect choice for me. let me prove it to you.”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #al haitham #al haitham x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #rin writes

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misshoneyimhome · 4 months

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Can i please ask a small scenario of luke hughes finishing first and he is so embarrassed and cute and hides his face in readers face and neck. Reader is so calm and sweet to him. Thanks love 🥰

Okay okay, so this was very brief! And also my first time writing about Luke Hughes... and I know I said no players born after 2001, but what can I say, I do like a challenge 🙈 Though I do feel like I violated him...

Hope it's alright love 😉🤍

Warnings; 18+ smut; protected sex (p in v);

Word count; 1.5K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Practice makes perfect | Luke Hughes 🖋️⚡️

"What a game, huh?" you exclaimed with excitement as you greeted Luke, who was coming out of the locker room after the New Jersey game against the Blackhawks.

"It was alright," the young defensemen simply smiled in response.

"Alright? Luke, you played amazingly tonight," you embraced him in a hug, smiling up at your tall boyfriend, feeling he deserved more praise.

"Thanks," he flashed you a sweet, humble smile, wrapping his long arms around your body. Tucking you into him before letting you go and admiring your beautiful face. "So, what's the plan now?"

You could sense a slight hint of nervousness in his question, considering that you and Luke had only recently started seeing each other.

You had gotten to know him platonically during the summer, and as the regular season progressed, you slowly grew closer. However, your relationship was still fairly new.

"Coming over to your place?" you timidly suggested in a sweet voice, and Luke couldn’t help but return your joy. You always had a way of making him weak in the knees, from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, where he mentally had to kick himself multiple times for taking so long to ask you out.

"Definitely!"

And there you were, entwined on his sofa, celebrating the night's victory, with his 6'2" frame leaning over you. Your fingers intertwined in his brown curls as his lips caressed yours, his tongue gently seeking entrance, meeting yours with hunger.

The room was dimly lit, with the soft glow of a lamp casting a warm ambiance. The celebration continued with the faint sound of the TV playing highlights of the game in the background. The scent of victory lingered in the air, mixed with the comforting aroma of the takeout you both had enjoyed earlier.

"Easy, Luke," you chuckled lightly into the kiss, feeling his desire growing, along with impatience and almost neediness. "Slow down, we've got time."

"Sorry, babe," he breathed out with a light smile. "I'm just so..."

"Turned on?" you asked, your eyes glancing downwards to his very hard member, concealed in his sweats.

"Yeah," he softly admitted before once again pressing his mouth onto yours. Although he did try to slow down a little, it was rather difficult for him.

You were one of the most gorgeous and sweet girls he'd ever met. His hockey career always making it difficult to date like a regular teenager, and as a young adult having to take life seriously now, it hadn't gotten any easier.

But then you came around. And though he wasn't exactly a virgin when the two of you met, he might still have been on the less experienced side. Again, his hard work to reach the same level of career as his brothers had limited his social life. Which also meant his intimate time with girls.

And as you felt his rather sizeable length, firm against your inner thigh, you knew he was too worked up to slow down any further.

"Bedroom, Luke..." you breathed in between his sloppy kisses, and before long, he guided you to his room, where he swiftly pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his toned hockey torso, while you discarded your own blouse. Trousers went next, and not many seconds passed before you were back in the same position, your legs on each side of Luke as he hovered over you, lips connected, bodies growing warmer with every touch, creating friction, and sweat.

Yet, despite his deep need to feel himself reaching the much-anticipated climax, Luke was still trying his best to focus on you.

So, as you shared the passionate kiss, his fingers found the edge of your knickers, gently sneaking a finger inside as he located your entrance, poking and teasing before sliding it in.

Soft moans escaped your lips as you felt the pleasure he was causing, and you slowly developed an impatient need for more, which was given to you with a second finger.

And as Luke skilfully fingered you, something he'd, of course, learned from his older brothers, he too felt the impending surge of pleasure within him. The room filled with the heady mix of desire and intimacy, creating a space where time seemed to stand still, solely dedicated to the symphony of your shared sensations.

His cock was already dripping with pre-cum, creating a small damp patch in his boxers as he felt it throbbing, almost pulsating, craving to be touched.

"Yes, Luke," you moaned softly as you felt his fingers massaging your walls.

But with every pump, he felt himself in more need to feel those walls around his length instead. So, as impatience took over, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you feeling a void as he shifted his position, pulled off his boxers, and then returned to tuck down your underwear.

His facial expression was so serious, much like when he was playing hockey - focused and determined. Yet, this time, he also seemed desperate to be touched and in need to reach his peak.

Reaching over to the nightstand where Jack had been kind enough to place a few condoms as a joke, he took out the little packaging. However, as he seemed to fumble with it, you offered him a helping hand.

"Here, let me," you smiled up at him as you took out the latex and gently wrapped his length, causing little squirms from the boy above you, as your touch made him feel the sense of pleasure he was craving.

And then swiftly, he returned to missionary once more and let the tip of his member gently touch and tease your tight entrance.

"Slowly, love," you tried with a soft whisper. However, as Luke eased himself into your depth, your whisper quickly turned into a moan instead, feeling his long shaft filling your warmth.

"Shit..." he breathed out, slowly beginning to rock his hips, letting his cock glide in and out of you as he stimulated your walls. The room echoed with the sounds of your shared passion, a harmony of gasps, moans, and the rhythmic dance of bodies entwined in the heat of the moment. The intensity grew, the connection deepening with every thrust, creating a heated atmosphere.

"That's it, Luke..." you moaned in between breaths as he found a solid pace, thrusting and hitting the very end of your depth. Your hands finding his locks that you could pull on as you felt the building of an orgasm once again within.

However, the more Luke felt stimulated, the more he increased his speed. His thrusts slowly grew eager and more forceful as he got closer to his climax, still feeling the rush of a win from the match as he pounded into you.

And you felt him getting sloppier. His eyes shutting close as he desperately fought not to reach the peak, trying his best to have you come with him. Carefully he listened to your moans as you were about to let yourself give in to an orgasm as well.

"Yes, baby... I'm close... please come with me..." Luke almost cried out.

And you were almost there with him.

But as you were about to announce your climax, the tightening of your core around Luke's shaft had him involuntarily come a little too close to his peak. And with a deep, uncontrollable grunt, he let himself go, spilling his release into the latex as he felt the rush take over.

"Fuck..." Luke shouted, letting go of the last drops, his body trembling as he almost collapsed and fell with his face into the crook of your neck. The room was filled with the aftermath of passion, both of you catching your breath in the shared intimacy of the moment. The echoes of pleasure lingered in the air, creating a sense of vulnerability.

You let the silence fill the room as Luke slowly gained control of his heavy breaths, his body lying on top of you as he let out a deep sigh.

"I'm so sorry, babe..." he timidly mumbled into your skin, and you couldn't help but form a soft smile on your lips.

"It's okay, Luke," you tried to comfort him with a soft tone of voice, gently stroking your fingers through his hair before he lifted his head to look at you.

"No, it's not okay... you didn't get to come first, baby... you know I always want that," he whispered softly, his eyes darting from side to side as he kept apologising.

But you merely offered him another light chuckle and caressed his cheek. "Hey, it was your night tonight... after the thrill from the game, and how eager we both were, it makes sense it didn't take long."

“Still… I feel bad about not making you come…”

Once more, you just flashed him a soft smile.

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to do it again – you know what they say: practice makes perfect.”

And your words seemed to slowly reassure him as you both remained in the relaxed position, comforting each other while keeping your eyes locked onto his. Eventually, he accepted your words and withdrew himself from your embrace.

Though you had to admit feeling a little disappointed, having been so close to your peak, you were also okay with how Luke came to his release. He had made you feel good after all, and it truly brought you joy to please him.

#my asks #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes smut #nhl smut #new jersey devils imagine

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loaksbitch · 1 year

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ok this is based on request, but imagine jake sully fucking you with pure hated cause your existence alone fucking irritates him yet he can’t keep his hand off of you yes? HECK YES

warning(s) – enemies with benefits, angry sex, mean jake, clit stimulation, overstimulation, cervix fucking, dumbfication, owning kink (if that’s a thing), cussing, orgasm denial, choking, slight hair pulling, cum stuffing, reader is a bratty minx too.

jake was sat across the hut, reshaping his arrow tip to hunt for later and very much annoyed on how youre in front of him, chewing on your thumbnail so fucking loud, on eywa you’re was so bitchy.

for the past half hours he was trying so hard to block out the chewing sound yet nothing helped, especially with your very aware self doing that purposely.

“can you stop doing that?” jake huffs, doing his best to control his growing anger and hatred.

“what?” you say with an attitude, a brow arched and giving him a stare.

you and you’re fucking attitude. jake licks his lips, tongue poking through his cheek. “that, stop chewing loud you’re distracting me.” he says, pointing to where his reshaped arrows are.

you click your tongue, nodding your head to the door. “if you’re disturbed, the door is that way.” your words are pushing him on edge, wanting to rip you and do things, you on other hand was also feeling the same and you want him away from your sight.

“this place is not yours.” he spat, tone showing a tint of anger. you’re hitting jackpot. “and it’s not yours.” you bite back.

a deep growl leaves his chest, jake frowning as he starts to speed his knife against the wooden arrow. he decides to ignore you, thinking it’s the best to steam down his anger, fuck he really hates you it’s making his cock twitch.

you’re not done with him, especially after yesterday night when he literally scared the cute na’vi male who was talking to you away. this bitch deserves to go crazy with your existence.

“slow down.” you say, voice high and pushing him to the edge. “i swear to God, y/n if you don’t shut the fu—“ you dare to cut him off, you fucking cut him off and his nostrils flared.

“you might not want to cut those fingers, do you?” you tease, empathizing with the fact he has five fingers and is different from the na’vi’s.

he blinks, eyes twitching and triggered before he snaps his head to yours.

“i’m sick of your bitchy self today.” he tries to humble you but you find ways to slap his face with your fiery mouth. “and i'm sick of your bitchy self every day.” you say and jake loudly hissed, amber eyes strictly glaring at you.

“fuck you.” he grumbles

“fuck you.” you hiss back.

done with his shit, you decide to leave and get on your feet. he smirks, lips opening to get on your nerves. “leaving already?” you don’t reply, only one plan in your mind. you’re gonna destroy this man.

intentionally, you walk over to where reshaped and non shaped separated arrows are and nudge your leg to them. you feel them tumble, falling and mixing together. “oops.” you giggle,

jakes’ smirk drops, fading so quickly, this was the last string of patience he had. he lets a terrific chuckle out and your body shivers, maybe you’ve taken it too far.

“you little bitch.” he was now on his feet, walking to you and grabbing you by your hair. you two always ended up in a fight, him not caring if you're a female or you not caring if he was male. you just go for it, punching him when he dared to touch your hair.

“the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you turn to him, face red with anger as well. you’ve always hated when someone had you by your hair. you poke on his chest, pushing him while you knew this drives him insane with maddens cause he hates getting pushed too.

“don’t. push. me.”

both of your eyes were on fire and burning holes to each other’s skull. you swallow nervously yet hold your ground and not let him see how he was intimidating you.

“don’t be an asshat and you won’t be pushed.” you said quietly.

“fuck you.” he says, voice to deep.

“fuck you.” you’re on your tiptoes now, chin raised high to show you’re not scared or bottoming out.

without any warnings his lips were on yours, hot and wet as he takes your lips and devour you. anger was still in him but the lust is winning. both of you are fighting until he was biting on your lips and making you involuntarily moan.

it was his chance, tongue being shoved inside your mouth and being tied. he moans to the kiss. jake suddenly pulls you closer and you whine, hands skimming to his chest and push him away.

he licks his lips, eyes lingering on your lips before lifting to see your eyes. you wipe your lips with your arm, spitting on the floor with disgust. oh trust me, you were so fucking turned on but had to pretend.

“don’t wipe my kiss off your lips.” he demands and you scoff, wiping more and watch his eyes squint, a chuckle leaving him.

“fine then, i’ll mark you all over your body and see if you can wipe it.” he spits and you’re being scooped to his shoulder.

you don’t fight cause you know you want this, but at the same time you’re nervous.

before you know it, you’re being thrown to the hammock, jake crawling on top of you and you almost moan at the sight. “what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, not letting him have a chance to know you’re wanting him right now.

“i think your sexy ass knows exactly what i’m doing.” your inside twists, pussy pulsing at his words. he doesn’t miss how your legs close themselves and he nods, smirking. “that turns you, doesn't it?” you look away when he holds onto your knees and forces them open.

“fuck you.” you say again and this time jake grins. “please do.” he begs this time.

he was between your legs, your loincloth getting ripped away and him untying his gently. he’s so passive aggressive. “i’m gonna fuck you till you’re screaming my name only.” he leans to nudge on your cheek with his nose.

“fuck off, i’m not doing–“ jake was again kissing you, rough and angry that almost breaks your skin. your legs are roughly pushed wider. “i fucking hate you.” he reminds you and anger bubbles in you, “i fucking hate you too–hngh..!” you struggle to answer when pleasure strikes you as jake cups your heat.

“you’re so fucking wet.” your eyes almost roll up to your head, his husky voice being too much. jake was admiring the way he bruised your blue skin when he was marking your neck.

jake trails hot wet kisses down your cleavage and to your breast. you drew a deep breath between your teeth when he took your nipple. jake locked his eyes with yours when he tugged on your nipple, letting it roll between his teeth. the sharpness of his teeth scraping on your nipple and making you shudder.

he leaned back, getting on his knees and glaring at you as he told you how he is proud with the effect he had on you with his eyes. your temper was flaring.

you pull your legs to your chest and try to close them but jake was fast. “uh-uh.” he grips onto your ankle and yanks your legs back open. you grit your teeth, fighting him and his masculine ass to get off of you.

“baby.” he sternly calls and you freeze, “the fuck did you just call me?” you slap his hand away from you when he tries to reach and brush your messy hair from your forehead. “i ain’t your baby.” you growl.

“fine, you want it the hard way?” he spits. “i’ll fuck you then.”

you’re getting pushed back and pinned to the hammock. “fucking stay like that or else…” he threats and you scoff. “no, you don’t tell me what to you, i’m not yours to obey around.”

“you’re not mine?” he arched his brow and you're silent, looking away and staring at the roof until hands are firm, grip on your jaw turns you and makes you meet his gaze. “you’re not mine?” of course at the end of the day you’re his.

“yes, you don’t own me.” every time his nostrils flared, you were very happy because he was getting upset. “we will see about that.” and then he was leaning down to capture your other breast that didn’t get attention.

you were fast to throw your head back, moaning when you felt him lightly bite on your bud and make you squirm under him. you didn’t realize you were pushing his head away from your chest until jake was grabbing your wrist and throwing it away.

right then you arch your back for him to suck on your nipple more he stops and you whine. “you’re not mine huh? you sure you don’t want to take that back?” you huff, eyes telling him you’re not changing your mind.

“yeah,” you spit, watching him grin, “is that so?” he says.

“yes, because you’re— argh!” you groan when his other hand roughly parts your fold and sinks in until his knuckle is a barrier. jake was so rough when he fingers you, your cunt squeezing him deliciously.

your eyes widen when you catch his cock jump and point straight to the roof, precum leaking from the angry tip of his dick. he can imagine how warm and tight you are.

“relax.” he curls his finger inside you, thumb flicking your clit. “relax for me.” he hates you yet look at him going all ‘relax for me’ on you.

“you’re so pathetic, so fucking dumb on my fingers.” he pulls his two fingers out before shoving them in you.

“who am i?” he asks and your answer causes him to curl his fingers inside you. “you’re an asshole!” you mweled. “asshole? i’m an asshole?” jake pinches on your thigh when you try to close them on his hand.

“c’mon pretty, i know you’re better than that. who am i?”

you’re silent, only soft breath leaving you. jake can feel how you pulse on his fingers, telling him you’re about to come. “what the–“ your eyes shoot open when you feel jake pull his hands away from you.

“open your legs wider, be fast.” for once you do as you’re told and jake hums, pleased.

“you’re not gonna get that far until you say you’re mine.” he was very serious and you gulped. you’re spread open and jake closes his eyes when the scent of your leaking slick hits his nose.

you smell so tempting and delicious.

your gaze follows him when he settles between your legs. “gonna fuck some sense into you now.” you throbbed when you said that, feeling your wetness leaking out of you fast and clenching on nothing but air.

jake held both of your legs, pushing them up to your chest and folding you half. it was his turn to squat, watching your exposed and pink folds shining as his angry tip circles on the slit.

“please,” you catch yourself slipping, pride somehow demolished. jake was surprised, “what? can’t hear you.” he gives you an attitude.

you don’t fight back, just wanting to be filled with his dick. “please i need you inside me.” he wasn’t up for teasing now. he needed you as much as you needed him. “fuuuck.” he moans, watching your face attentively when your jaw hungs open.

pain and pleasure hit you, he was not giving you any time to get accustomed to his length. jake thrusts into you, angry and rough.

“you’re mine?” he asks, taking advantage of your hazy mind but you’re no near to being hazy. “fuck off.” you hiss when he pushes your leg to your chest more, almost blocking your lungs from your stretching.

“hm, i’m asking you in a minute and i’ll need you to get it right yeah?” you only moan. jake pressed his body to your folded leg, grabbing your hips and titling your pelvis. you scream when he hits the right spot.

hands sought to his broad shoulders and pushed him when he ruined your tight cunt, it was painful when he started to slip in more. jake can’t help but get shocked when he fucks you open. his cock was literally in your cervix.

“it hurts.” you whine but jake only shushes you. hands wiping on the tears that appear on your eyes. “shh, you’re okay. i’m just so deep, f-fuck don’t do that.” he grips on your hips when you tighten on him. your warm breath hits his lips on how close he is and pressing himself on you.

hands that were wiping your tears slides to hold onto your wrists that keep pushing him away and moving them away from him. “who am i, baby?” you’re now completely gone, his dick controlling your brain and body, even your breath when he ruts to you.

tears are leaking from your eyes as he keeps thrusting into you, abusing your walls and bruising them. you moan and cry louder, nothing making sense with the pleasure and pain you’re feeling.

your breath shortens when jake wraps his large hand on your throat, oh mother eyw—

“who am i?” his tone changes on the last word and you scream? giving in easily. “jake! jake sully!” you cry out, orgasm bubbling in you, you want it out of you, the growing pressure. you want jake to rip it out of you.

“okay, that’s it.” he pats your temple, “ seems like ’m knocking some sense in you.”

“now,” he kisses your forehead, hate still bubbling in him. “you’re mine, yeah?” you wanted to shake your head. wanted to punch him. wanted to…

“c’mon, say it and i’ll give you what you need.”

“i’m yours, i’m yours, i’m yours.” the moment you said it, jake felt something in him burn with ego. you’re his, you gave yourself to him. no going back now.

“good fucking girl.” he huffs, pulling out of you and causing you to cry, like seriously cry loud and he spreads your leg apart, hands wrapping on your waist before he helps you get on him.

your ass sets against his strong thighs and you moan when he easily slipped inside you.

“JAKE!” you yell when he pushes you down, bottoming out before grazing on your earlobe. “you’re mine, you get it? a part of you is mine and i own you.” you hate how his words made your insides clench.

tears are shed, heart in pain with no reason. “i hate you.” you tell him and he smiles, pulling you close to him and hugging you as he fucks himself in you. “i hate you too.” jake chuckles when you hide yourself on his chest.

“i’m gonna cum…” you whine, feeling the man holding you close. “i got you, i’m here.” at this point the hate is confusing because jake doesn’t know what he is feeling any more.

you let go, trusting the man you hate the most and coming. he was soon taking your step, manly whining and hiding himself to the crook of your neck. “shit.” he moans, loading himself in you.

he suddenly feels you pushing him away and hips buckling causing him to slip out of you. he was about to ask what was wrong until glaring at him with pure rage.

“this never happened.” you bark and watch him confused and try to understand. “what?” he innocently asks and you point at him then, down to his semi-hard cock. “this, me and you. we never did it.”

right then it hits him, jake gets that you don’t want this to get out of you two, it was like a dirty secret and jake felt annoyed. “you don’t want no one to know?” you’re quick to nod. “yes.” as much as he wants to show you off.

if you want this then he got you, he was gonna bite his tongue and sit back and you watch him hesitate before nodding.

“good.” you state and move from him to fetch on your loincloth. he only stares at you, the tension you both had a while ago long gone and his amber eyes following you as the mean man he was before disappeared. you don’t even spare him a look as you dress and leave the hut.

too confused and trying to process what just happened.

like + reblog is very appreciated but not pressured! i love each and everyone of you sm!

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xtra7s · 3 months

Note

Hi hi omg i love your writing it’s amazing! Can i request a Reneè fic where reader is in a famous band and admits in an interview how much she loves and admires Reneè (yk that clip where Reneè is like “Date me” for Rachel Mcadams) and Reneè responds and they get close and collaborate or whatever you want!

𝐄𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐞𝐝

Pairing: Renee Rapp x Reader

Synopsis: Y/N, the bassist for Eclipsed, gives Renee some props during an interview and ends up hanging out with her.

Content: mainly fluff

Word Count: 2k

a/n: okay so this one was a bit confusing to write mainly because I felt like nothing was really going on, I didnt know if you wanted smut or something else so I apologize if it isnt what u wanted :(

masterlist

The excitement buzzed in the air as Y/N YL/N, the talented bassist of the rising rock band "Eclipsed," prepared for a much-anticipated interview. The band had been making waves in the music scene, and the media was eager to learn more about the individuals behind the electrifying sound. Y/N, known for their skillful bass playing and enigmatic stage presence, was ready to share their journey.

The interview took place in a trendy studio, with the band seated on a chic, modern couch. Y/N's fingers idly traced the frets on their bass, a well-worn instrument that had seen countless gigs and late-night jam sessions. The interviewer, a music journalist with an infectious passion for the industry, dove straight into the questions.

"So, Y/N, let's start with your musical journey. How did you find your way to the bass guitar?" the interviewer inquired, leaning forward.

Y/N grinned, the memory of their musical awakening evident in their eyes. "I actually started with the guitar, but one day, I heard this deep, resonant bass line that just spoke to me. It was like the heartbeat of the song, and from that moment, I was hooked. I switched to the bass, and it felt like coming home."

The rest of the band nodded in agreement, acknowledging the pivotal role Y/N played in shaping the band's distinctive sound. The lead singer, Maya, chimed in, "Y/N brings a unique energy to our music. The bass lines add a whole new layer, creating this dynamic and powerful sonic landscape."

As the conversation flowed, the interviewer shifted gears, asking about the band's creative process. Drummer Alex spoke about the collaborative nature of their songwriting, while the guitarist, Jake, discussed the influences that shaped their sound. Y/N interjected with tales of late-night jam sessions and the organic evolution of their music.

"We all bring something different to the table," Y/N explained. "It's like a musical potluck. Each of us has our own tastes and influences, and when we come together, it creates this fusion of sound that defines Eclipsed."

The conversation turned to the band's recent successes, including a sold-out show and a growing fan base. Y/N's eyes sparkled with gratitude as they reflected on the journey.

"It's been incredible," Y/N shared. "Our fans are amazing. They connect with the raw emotion in our music, and that's the most rewarding part. Music is a language that transcends words, and seeing people resonate with what we create is truly humbling."

As the interview with Eclipsed continued, the interviewer shifted gears, a mischievous glint in their eyes.

"Now, Y/N, the music world is full of incredible artists, and one rising star who seems to have captured a lot of attention is Renee Rapp. Have you had the chance to meet her, and what are your thoughts on her music?" the interviewer inquired, a sly smile playing on their lips.

Y/N's expression lit up at the mention of Renee Rapp. "Oh, Renee is fantastic! I haven't had the pleasure of meeting her in person yet, but I'm a big fan of her work. Her music has this raw authenticity that really resonates with me. It's always refreshing to see artists who pour their heart and soul into their craft."

The rest of the band nodded in agreement, expressing their admiration for Renee Rapp's talent. Maya, the lead singer, chimed in, "I love how she fearlessly embraces her uniqueness. It's inspiring to see artists who aren't afraid to be true to themselves, both in their music and their persona."

The interviewer pressed a bit further, asking if there were any specific songs or aspects of Renee Rapp's music that Y/N found particularly inspiring. Y/N thought for a moment before responding, "I really connect with the way she uses her voice to convey emotion. It's powerful and evocative. As musicians, we're always drawn to those artists who can create a genuine connection with their audience, and Renee does that exceptionally well."

The conversation then meandered into a discussion about musical influences, with each band member sharing their favorite artists and the impact those musicians had on their own sound. It was clear that Eclipsed Echoes drew inspiration from a diverse range of genres and artists, contributing to the richness of their music.

"And, Y/N, given that you've expressed admiration for Renee Rapp's talent, do you have any comments for her?" the interviewer asked, a faint hint of curiosity in their tone.

Y/N, ever composed, smiled with her teeth. "I do,-" She paused, looking at the camera directly. "Keep your head up, bitch. you're effortlessly you and that shit is wicked. You gotta remember the comments of your loved ones are the only ones that matter."

The rest of the band nodded in agreement, sensing the delicate nature of the question. Maya, the lead singer, added, "Absolutely. It's crucial to separate someone's art from their personal lives. We're all here because of our love for music, and that's what we should celebrate."

The interviewer, quickly shifted gears steering the conversation back toward the band's music and upcoming projects. Y/N, always poised and focused on the music, gracefully navigated through the interview, steering it away from personal matters and back into the realm of creativity and passion.

As the interview concluded, it was evident that the members of Eclipsed were not only talented musicians but also individuals who valued respect and professionalism in their interactions. The episode served as a reminder that, while curiosity about an artist's personal life may arise, the primary focus should always remain on the artistry and creativity that unite the diverse and dynamic world of music.

A few days after the interview, Y/N found a pleasant surprise in their Instagram inbox. It was a message from none other than Renee Rapp herself. Excitement bubbled within Y/N as they read the message.

"Hey Y/N! 🌟 I caught your interview, and it was awesome hearing your thoughts on my music. Your band's sound is killer! Would love to chat more and maybe hang out sometime. What do you say?"

Y/N quickly replied, expressing their gratitude and enthusiasm for the unexpected message. The conversation flowed effortlessly as they exchanged thoughts about music, shared favorite artists, and found common ground in their passion for creating authentic, powerful art.

Renee suggested meeting up for a casual hangout, perhaps grabbing coffee or exploring a local record store. Y/N eagerly agreed, and plans were set in motion for a meeting between two talented musicians who had connected through their shared love for the art form.

As the day of the meetup arrived, Y/N couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. They met Renee at a cozy cafe, and from the moment they greeted each other, it was clear that the connection extended beyond the digital realm. The conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter, shared stories of musical journeys, and a mutual appreciation for the creative process.

Y/N and Renee's casual hangout unfolded into an afternoon of shared laughter, animated discussions about music, and an undeniable chemistry that lingered in the air. The cozy cafe provided the perfect backdrop for their burgeoning connection, with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enhancing the warmth of the atmosphere.

As they chatted about their favorite bands and musical influences, Y/N couldn't help but be captivated by Renee's infectious enthusiasm. The conversation flowed seamlessly between topics, from the intricacies of songwriting to the exhilarating rush of performing on stage. Each shared anecdote deepened the connection, forging a bond between two artists who understood the unique challenges and joys of their chosen path.

The flirtatious banter began subtly, with playful glances and gentle teasing. Renee's laughter resonated like a melody, and Y/N found themselves drawn to her magnetic energy. As they strolled through a nearby record store, fingers lightly brushing against vinyl covers and sharing recommendations, the air seemed charged with an unspoken tension.

At a moment of quiet contemplation in the record store, Renee's gaze met Y/N's, and a playful smirk played on her lips. "You know," she said with a twinkle in her eye, "your interview made me curious. You mentioned appreciating someone's art without focusing on appearance. Do you always manage to separate the two?"

Y/N felt a flush of warmth creeping up their cheeks, realizing the subtle shift in the conversation. With a coy smile, they responded, "Well, I believe in appreciating the beauty in everything, whether it's in the artistry of music or… other things."

The air between them crackled with a newfound tension, and as they continued to explore the record store, the playful exchanges deepened into a more overt flirtation. A gentle touch on the arm here, a lingering gaze there—each gesture spoke volumes, creating an atmosphere charged with unspoken desire.

As they wrapped up their hangout, Y/N and Renee exchanged contact information, promising to meet again soon. The connection they forged went beyond the shared love for music, evolving into a magnetic attraction that lingered in the air, leaving both of them eager to explore the potential of this unexpected and thrilling connection.

In the days that followed their initial hangout, Y/N and Renee's connection deepened through playful messages and shared playlists. Their conversations became increasingly laced with flirtatious undertones, a dance of words that hinted at a mutual attraction.

One evening, Y/N received a message from Renee suggesting a joint songwriting session. The prospect of collaborating ignited a spark of excitement in Y/N, and they eagerly agreed. As they settled into the cozy ambiance of Y/N's home studio, surrounded by musical instruments and the gentle hum of creativity, the air seemed charged with both anticipation and a growing sense of intimacy.

As they worked on a new song, Y/N couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in Renee's body language—the way she would lean in slightly, the lingering touches on shared instruments, and the occasional laughter that held a hint of something more. The energy between them was palpable, a magnetic force drawing them closer with each passing moment.

Renee, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, suggested taking a break and grabbing a snack from the kitchen.

As Y/N and Renee took a break in the cozy kitchen, the atmosphere crackled with a potent blend of creative energy and unspoken desire. The shared laughter and flirtatious banter lingered in the air, creating a magnetic pull that neither could ignore. Renee, feeling the palpable tension, decided to take a bold step.

As they stood near the kitchen island, discussing the finer details of their latest composition, Renee's gaze lingered on Y/N's lips. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she leaned in, closing the distance between them and placing her hands on Y/N's waist. Time seemed to slow as Y/N felt the soft warmth of Renee's lips pressing against their own, and their back hitting the counter.

The kiss was electric, a spontaneous spark that ignited a fire between them. Y/N, momentarily stunned, soon reciprocated, their hands instinctively finding each other in a gentle embrace. The kitchen became a canvas for this unexpected moment, a dance of passion and shared connection against the backdrop of a creative haven.

Breaking the kiss, Renee grinned, her eyes filled with a mixture of playfulness and genuine affection. "Well, that was unexpected," she teased, her fingers gently tracing patterns on Y/N's arm.

Y/N, catching their breath, couldn't help but smile in response. "Glad you did it, Renee."

The shared laughter that followed sealed the moment, turning the kitchen into a haven where the boundaries between music and personal connection blurred. As they chatted over a plate of shared snacks, their knees brushed against each other under the table, creating a subtle yet electrifying connection. As they returned to their songwriting session, the newfound intimacy lingered, infusing their creative collaboration with an electrifying energy that promised more harmonies to come. The kitchen island, witness to the impromptu kiss, became a symbol of the uncharted territory their connection was now exploring.

#renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #wlw #lesbian #lgbtq #mean girls #leighton murray x reader #regina george x reader #leighton murray #the sex lives of college girls

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pandorxxx · 1 year

Text

Wrong kind of training…

Neteyam (30) x Omatikayan fem reader (23)

Warnings: SMUT THE HOUSE, age-gap, breeding kink, impregnating, daddy kink, oral, p in v, squirting.

🔞Minors, do not interact🔞

Neteyam was finally crowned olo’eyktan, after Jake decided that it was his time to step down. He was the perfect man for the job, anyway. He was a great warrior that loved his people. He was a helping hand to the elders, and led the clans to victory. He was a great son; always respecting his fathers wishes even if he didn't have to anymore. A great brother; always looking after his siblings. In the end, however, he wished that he could be a great husband, and father.

Although Neteyam was sought after by almost every woman in the clan, he always claimed to be too busy for a mate, even though he longed for one. That all changed when he met you. You were a little younger, granted, but mature for your age. He liked that you could hold your own, yet you were very submissive. He liked that you had a mind of your own, and the way you spoke. He liked that you were nurturing, similar to a mother figure. He secretly thought about courting you, and what it would be like to have you by his side. He figured that you wouldn't want to mate with him, considering the age gap. Why would you want to mate with him when there were many fine young men your age? What would you two have in common? However, he was completely wrong…

“Would you just look at him, he's soooo dreamy!” Tirea sighed, gawking over Neteyam from a distance as he trained the new warriors. You shot her a confused look before going back to making Tuk’s bracelet that you promised her.

“He’s way too old for us, Tirea. Besides, he probably has women falling at his feet.” you explained, turning your head towards the huge man. You couldn't deny that he was definitely a catch. He had muscles for days, and a gorgeous face but it was more than that for you. You like that he was very kind, and humble. You liked that he was a helping hand, and a true leader. You liked that he was soft and gentle, but serious when it came to his people, almost like a father figure.

“Yeah, ok!” Tirea said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

‘You might actually have a chance y/n… the way he stares at you??? Lord have mercy!” you eyes widened as you turned to look at Tirea.

“W-what are you talking about?” you spoke nervously. You never paid attention to the way he looked at you. Why would you? What would he see in you? You were too young for him.

“You know exactly what I'm talking about. Look behind you…” Tirea nudged your thigh causing you to turn around, and there he was. Staring at you from a distance. You two lock eyes for a moment, and smile at one another. Neteyam saw that as a sign to come over as he slowly started walking towards you and Tirea.

“Oh great mother, he's coming this way!” Tirea squealed, trying to hide her excited grin. Your eyes widened at her, as you purse your lips.

“Keep your voice down!” you hit Tirea in the arm, but before you knew it, he was towering over your sitting body.

“How are you, y/n?” a deep melodic voice spoke behind you, and you almost froze. You turned around, smiling up at him nervously before standing. You greeted him as you would your olo’eyktan, and he greeted you back.

“Hi, Sir.” you spoke, bowing your head. He shook his head with a light chuckle. He looked down at you, placing his huge hands on either sides of your shoulder.

“What have I told you? You can call me Neteyam.” he laughed before looking down at the unfinished bracelet in your hand. He sighed, and smiled before grabbing it.

“This is the fourth one in 3 days! You’ve got to learn how to say no to Tuk.” He grinned at the bracelet before handing it back to you. You chuckled lightly, grabbing the bracelet from him.

“I-its really not a problem, si- shit! Neteyam.” you fumble on your words, looking down at the moss underneath your feet, praying that it would just swallow you whole to rid you of this embarrassment. Neteyam chuckled at your nervous demeanor before placing his hand on your chin, lifting it up to face him.

“I'm up here, my love.” he spoke softly, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip. Your body immediately felt hot, and your gaze became heavy upon his beautiful face. He bit his lip before sighing, knowing that what he was engaging in wasnt the best choice. He let you go and backed away before speaking again.

“Listen, your father wanted me to talk to you about training.” he smiled sarcastically knowing what you were going to say. You weren't really the best hunter, and you damn sure weren't a warrior. However, your father wanted you to train so that you could have some experience in it, even if it wasn't much.

You snarled at Neteyams sentence, causing him to throw his hands up.

“I know you don't like hunting, but it is your father's wish. Just be a good girl for him, ok? Don't cause him any trouble.” Neteyam spoke with a loud sigh before placing his hand on your shoulder again. You looked up at him, nodding hesitantly.

“Ok good..” he stared, smiling down at you.

“ Come by the old shack, after eclipse?” he asked, nodding at you. You sigh, rolling your eyes before agreeing with him.

“Yes, si-, Neteyam! Sorry.” you shut your eyes from the immediate embarrassment. He shakes his head and throws his head down.

“I’ll see you tonight, my love..bye Tirea.” he grinned before walking off. You turned around to meet Tirea’s eyes glued to neteyam as he walked away.

“Byeee!” she spoke in a trance-like manner. You rolled your eyes before hitting Tirea’s leg to knock her out of her trance.

“Ouchhh! What was that for?” she shouted, rubbing her leg.

“He wants me to meet him at the old shack??? TONIGHT?? Why not tomorrow morning or something?” you asked Tirea with a confused look. Tirea grinned at you knowingly.

“Now you know exactly why he said TONIGHT y/n…” she started, looking around to make sure that no one could hear her next statement.

“He wants to give you that olo’eytkan dick, girl.” Tirea whispered, laughing right afterwards. You tried not to grin, but you couldn't help it.

“No fucking way! I'm too young for him…he doesn't see me in that way.” you shake your head, looking down into your lap.

“Suuuree, y/n, whatever makes you feel better. Let me know how the dick was tomorrow.” she spoke, getting up to walk away.

“There will be nothing to tell.” you shoo her off, before going back to the bracelet.

It was about 30 minutes to eclipse, as you waved your father off to go meet Neteyam.

“Father, im leavingggg!” you shout as you walk towards the hut door.

“Wait, y/n!” your father shouted, walking towards you with a smile. He stood in front of you, cupping your cheek.

“Thank you for not fighting me on this. I know you are not happy about training, but It will benefit you. You should be thanking Neteyam for helping you, he is a very busy man. He could teach you a lot, so learn well, y/n.” your father explained with a soft smile. You looked up at him, and sighed before shooting him a smile.

“Ofcourse, father. I must be going now.” you say, walking away.

“Be safe, y/n.” he shouted, waving you off.

“All the time.” you shout, running towards the forest.

You had been walking for a while, as you thought about your conversation with Tirea from earlier. Why would Neteyam bring you to a secluded part of the forest if he wasn't trying to make a move? Had you really been blind all this time, not seeing the obvious signs? Or were you blowing this entire situation out of proportion? He was olo’eytkan for crying out loud. Why would he want to court your young ass?

You were ripped out of your thoughts when you saw him. Sitting on the decomposing steps of the old shack, looking into the night sky. His freckles glowing in the moonlight. His long braids flowing down his back. His toned arms, and the way he held his bow. He made you melt, he was unbelievably gorgeous, you could stare at him all day.

He finally turned around to see you lurking in the shadows. He smiled, motioning for you to come sit next to him. You obliged, walking towards him, sitting next to his huge figure. He looked at the stars above you two.

“Isnt it pretty, y/n? The night sky?” he asked, before looking back at you.

“It’s beautiful, sir!” you look up in amazement, admiring the night sky before you feel a huge hand on your thigh, squeezing it tightly. Your eyes shot down to your thigh, as your breath started to quicken. You started shaking under his touch, and he noticed.

“What did I tell you about that, y/n?” he spoke, inches away from your ear. You hesitantly look into his eyes, mouth agape from panting nervously. He chuckled, noticing your nervousness, before throwing his head down, shaking his head.

“I-im sorry, y/n. Call me whatever makes you feel comfortable.” he gazed at you through his eyebrows, as he let your thigh go. You immediately felt cold without his touch. An overwhelming amount of confidence came over you, as you leaned in, kissing his lips passionately. His eyes widened before he started kissing back. His strong arms, pulled you ontop of him, deepening the kiss. His hands slid down to your ass, gripping it as he groaned in your mouth.

It felt so good, but Neteyam knew that this wasn't right. He was supposed to be training you, not mating with you. Your father entrusted him to teach and protect you. He pulled away from the kiss hesitantly, sighing loudly as he looked down, too embarrassed to look you in the eye.

“As much as i want to take you down, right here, right now.” he started, eyeing you up and down.

“We can’t, this would not work.” he explained holding your waist. you sighed, looking at him with desperate eyes.

“Why not? Have I done something wrong?” you ask, caressing his broad shoulders. He bit his lip at your innocent demeanor. The way you looked at him, and blamed yourself for absolutely nothing made his heart skip a beat.

“No, absolutely not! It is my fault for falling for you the way that I have. Your father told me to train you, not mate with you. I should know better.” he shook his head, pursing his lips. You blushed at his statement, not believing that this was really happening. All of the signs, and hints he threw your way, they were all real. All of the nervousness that you felt was masked by lust. You wanted him so bad, and now was your chance. You tilted your head at him, looking at his lips, then his eyes. He noticed the sudden change in you, and his eyes widened.

“Do you ever just…..let loose, Sir?” you asked, trailing your dainty hand down his abs. His breathing hitched, as he shut his eyes tightly.

“I know you’re a very busy man, and I appreciate you coming out here to train me. How about you train me in something a little more…” you finally reached his loincloth, slipping your hand in to grab his throbbing cock.

“Intimate.” you smile, watching his face contort in pleasure. He growled loudly as you started to jerk him off.

“y-y/n! We c-cant. I'm too old for you.” he says in between moans. You bring your forehead to his, staring at him through your eyebrows.

“Please, neteyam. I need you…” you plead with him, as you untied his loincloth. He looked down, and then looked back up at you. He sighed, looking around frantically before snapping his head back at you.

“I need you too, princess. You don’t know how bad I need you.” He confessed as his hands caressed the small of your back. You finally got his loincloth off to reveal his hug, veiny cock, springing up towards the bottom of your breasts. You look back to meet his eye, getting close to his ear.

“Oh, I think i know, daddy.” You whispered, letting your fangs graze his earlobe with every word. That sentence alone was enough to make him completely feral. He stood up, with you in his arms. He laid you on the moss, hovering over you with hungry eyes. He leaned down to your ear as he squeezed your small waist.

“Fuck “neteyam”, call me that from now on.” He whispered seductively, attacking your neck. You wrapped your arms around his broad back in hopes of bringing him closer to you. He pulled away from your neck going straight to your lips. He slid his hand down into your loincloth, massaging your clit. You moan into the kiss, biting his lip causing him to growl loudly. He pulled away from the kiss, sitting up to tear your loincloth off. He stared at your glistening cunt, licking his lips, then back at you with a small grin.

“I want you to sit on my face, right now.” he commanded before laying down next to you. You sat up on your elbows, eyes wide from his statement. Before you could answer, he was pulling you onto his face. You hovered over him, the rest of his body in your view.

‘Neteyam, I don't want to hurt you.” you whined trying to resist sitting on his mouth. He slapped your ass hard before speaking,

“Do it!” he said in a dark voice, pushing your hips down on him.Your legs finally gave out from his pulling, causing you to moan out loud at his tongue swirling around your cunt. You threw your head back in pure bliss, using his chest for leverage.

“You taste so good, princess.” he groaned into your cunt as he sucked on your clit. Your jaw dropped, as you gripped the sides of his waist.

“Neteyam, fuck!” You cried, trying to rise off of him, to no avail. He had the strongest grip on your tiny waist. He slapped your ass once more.

“Who?” he asked, kissing your cunt, sending volts of electricity through your entire body.

“Mmmm, i-im sorry daddy!” you whined, looking down at his hard cock in front of you, watching it pulsate and throb. You decided to go to work on him.

“Ohh shittt!” he groaned, throwing his head back onto the moss beneath him. You were bobbing your head on his hard cock, as you swirled your tongue around the tip. He went back to sucking your clit, as he thrusted into your mouth. His thrusts to the back of your throat made you choke, as tears ran down your face. He flicked your swollen clit with his pointed tongue, making the knot in your stomach build.

“D-daddy?” You whine, pulling away from his cock briefly.

“Mhhmm?” he mumbled, still attacking your clit.

“I-I’m” you stutter as your legs started shaking. You sit up, throwing your head back.

“You’re what, princess?” he whispered into you cunt, sending you over the edge.

“Mmmm im cummingggg!” you scream as your eyes roll to the back of your head, still shaking violently. He licked your juices up, as you desperately tried to catch your breath.

“So sweet, y/n!” he muttered, kissing your sensitive clit before patting your thigh, signaling for you to get up. You slowly raise off of him, taking a seat by his side. He sat up, watching you pant loudly. He chuckled, laying you back down onto the moss. He hovered over you, leaning down to your ear.

“Im gonna get you pregnant tonight. I need you to have my babies.” He whispered, massaging your clit with his tip.

“Mhmm, I want it all! give it to me, please.” You beg, spreading your legs wider, giving him easy access. He glanced down at your dripping cunt, making his mouth water, before looking back up at you, drunkenly.

He sat up, keeping eye contact with you. He grabbed your thighs pulling you close to him harshly, making you gasp. He spit on your cunt, tapping your clit with his tip. He bit his lip, glaring at you with low eyes.

“I’m gonna fuck the shit outta you.” He muttered, licking his lips before sliding into you slowly. You gasp at his size, gripping the moss under you.

“Fuck!” You yelled sharply, shutting your eyes. He finally slid all the way in, with a low groan as he threw his head back. You looked down at your stomach, noticing a huge bulge where his tip stopped. He looked down at you, completely fascinated by how big he was inside of you. He chuckled before pressing down on your lower abdomen, thrusting into you slowly. You moaned at the feeling of being filled to the brim.

“I’m gonna make you mine, baby.” He groaned as he picked up the pace, holding onto your tiny waist as he rutted into you.

“Ughhh daddy, it’s too much!” You whine, crawling back on your elbows. He titled his head at you sadistically, pulling you back down onto his cock. He leaned down, gripping your neck tightly, making you whimper.

“I thought this was what you wanted, princess? You’ve gotta take it now.” He explained through gritted teeth, as he picked up the pace again. All you could hear was skin clapping, and squelching noises. Your moans got caught in your throat as your jaw dropped.

“You have nothing to say now, huh? You like when daddy fucks you sensless?” He asked kissing your bottom lip lightly. All you could do was nod frantically, mouth still agape. You finally gasp loudly, crying out at the feeling of his cock drilling into you deep. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach, shutting your eyes immediately.

“No,no look at me when you cum, princess.” He grinned, gripping your neck tighter.

“Pleaseeee, I- I can’t!!!” You plead, eyes still closed.

“Yes you can, baby. Open your eyes.” He grunted, watching your face contort. You finally opened your eyes, looking down at the source of pleasure. You watched as his hips rolled into you slow and steady, making you lose it. Your legs started shaking, and your eyes rolled back.

“I’m cummingggg!!!!” You scream, squirting all over him as you but your lip.

“Yessss baby, give it to me!!!” He moaned, helping you ride out your high.

“Now it’s my turn…” he flipped you over on your stomach, pulling your hips up towards his pelvis as he pushed your head down onto the forest ground. He slid into you slowly, causing you to cry out.

“I know baby…be a good girl and take it, ok?” He said softly, thrusting into you hard and deep. He threw his head back, grunting loudly before gazing back down to watch your ass slap his pelvis repeatedly.

“You look so good like this, y/n!” he moaned, pulling you up by your hair, wrapping his giant arm around your small torso. Your soft moans were too much for him, as he felt the knot starting to form in his stomach.

“I’m gonna fill you up soon, baby, are you ready for me?” He grunted in your ear, grabbing you by the folds of your arms.

“Yesss daddy, I need you!” You whinned, gripping his strong arm as you felt your high coming for the third time.

He felt you clench around him, making him moan out loud as he shut his eyes tightly, leaning down to the crook of your neck.

“I want you to carry my children, right here.” He let out a breathy moan, pressing on your abdomen as he thrusted deep into you.This sent you over the edge.

“Daddy, I’m cumming againnn!!!!” You yelled as you convulsed in his arms, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your mouth flew open.

“Shitttt, me too baby!!” He groaned, as his eyes rolled back, shooting his thick load into your womb.

“Oh my God, yesssss!!!” You shouted as you felt his cum leak into your stomach. He thrusted into you slowly, watching his seed coat his cock with every stroke.

“Such a good girl, y/n.” He smirked as he pulled out of you, watching his seed leak out of you. He smacked your ass before flipping you over on your back. You gently caressed his cheek as he looked down at you.

“Thanks for the training, daddy.” You eyed him up and down, biting your lip. He grabbed your neck lightly, bending down to give you a passionate kiss.

“Anytime…”

Ok so this was the story that was most voted today. Really quickly, can we talk about how Neteyam was supposed to be training her, and he ended up mating with her, like sir????? What happened to the original plot??? Anyways, i hope y’all liked it as much as I liked writing it. Until tomorrow, love y’all!!🫶🏽😎

Outtie❤️🖖🏾,

Pandorxx

2K notes · View notes

queers-gambit · 11 months

Text

Blue Moon Wreckage

prompt: your husband can often lose his temper and resort to the man he was before you. you grow tired of lashing your tongue, and learn your husband responds better to silence.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!wife!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 4.3k+

note: another stand alone, no sequel

warnings: cursing, talk of child abandonment, vulgar dialogue, old-fashioned views on marriage (maybe idk), not edited. small angst, small comfort. author probably missed some warnings.

The entire city cleaned up in preparation for Princess Rhaenyra's nuptials to the heir of Driftmark, Lord Laenor Velaryon. It was refreshing to see citizens rejoicing in a common theme and going around to hang different decorations; chandeliers of strung florals, wreaths woven and hung, lanterns set all around to create an ambiance in the street.

Romance was in the air.

It put people in jolly spirits, brought them elation, and gave the ability to decompress from the woes of life. Wine tasted sweeter, the food saltier, and many merchants came into town for the week-long celebration of Rhaenyra and Laenor in the hopes of selling enough wares to pay for three of their month's expenses. Every room at the inn was filled, brothels hosting the leftover stragglers; money was simply made in an abundance after taking advantage of the citizens come to celebrate.

And yet, deep within the halls of the Red Keep, not all were so at peace with the state of things.

Maids and servants all skidded around the corridor that housed your bedchambers shared with your husband. The walls almost vibrated with the sheer force of the yelling that took place, and while the sun shone on the rest of the Kingdom, there was a dark shadow over the Red Keep.

Rarely, and it was the truth, rarely did you and Daemon ever fight. He was your best friend, he was the love of your life, you've known him for years, and had long since developed an effective way to communicate. Daemon wasn't easy to deal with, in fact, even to those who knew how to handle him, he sometimes pushed past boundaries and threw curveballs into the mix. You were not immune to his sharp tongue and wicked-fast wit, but in reality, Daemon never actively sought conflict with you, so fighting was incredibly rare - though, not totally unheard of.

Like a blue moon - not totally unheard of, but still considered rare. And in pale moonlight, the ship you and Daemon found yourselves sailing on seemed to crash into a set of cliffside jagged rocks, all but imploding the balance you had found yourselves in.

A shipwreck during a blue moon.

Before you, Daemon was violent and volatile. He was irresponsible, impulsive, stubborn, hotheaded, and blood thirty. Many Ladies all vied for the Prince's attention, but as he grew older, he became more and more reckless and more Ladies started keeping their distance. Expect you. You heard rumor his grandmother, the Queen Alysanne, meant to marry him off to Rhea Royce but your father was almost too smart for his own good. He devised a tantalizing offer that the Crown would've been foolish to refuse - thus binding you and Daemon to fate.

Before you, Daemon wasn't a man. He was just a second son trapped in a shell of his body, full of anger with nowhere to expel himself. A boy with a temper. A lad with attitude. He was knighted at 16, an impressive feat, and not a full moon cycle later, you and Daemon wed. He wasn't easy to love, but that was because he was so defensive in his life living in his older brother's shadow.

Before you, Daemon never believed in love or acceptance. Yet everyday he spent with you, he was reminded of his value and worth as a person - not just a Prince, or a Targaryen. You worked every day for his trust and confidence, and once you had it, it was an unshakeable foundation. Daemon was everything to you, and before him, you were shy and awkward and overwhelmed in the glaring eyes of court. Now, you were confident, humble, and weeping with power.

You kept Daemon balanced in his head and heart.

Before you, he was like a wild dog. Now, he was domesticated for you and you alone. He realized how much his recklessness hurt you and never wanted to be the cause of your pain, so, Daemon cleaned himself up. Most days, he was perfectly content in life, and others, he was still as stubborn as ever, but every so often, Daemon loses sight of himself and resorts back to who he was before you.

Fighting with Daemon was always difficult. He wasn't accustomed to losing, so, when you two went toe-to-toe, he was out for blood. He loses himself in his anger, fueled only by the need to cause the most harm with his sharpest words. Daemon jumped to conclusions faster than a grasshopper hops from blades of grass because he was vastly insecure, and it took most of your will to restrain your anger enough to soothe him of his worries.

Daemon hated fighting with you, and you hated fighting with him. There was never a true victor because you both hated it so much. Perhaps that was why your once-in-a-blue-moon fights turned so gruesome and emotional; you both hated fighting that it made you fight even harder.

How you came to this, you didn't remember. One moment, you were enjoying a morning feast with your husband, and the next, you were locked in your chambers, lashing at each other's throats with hateful words.

"I do not understand!" You sobbed. "You agreed to this - "

"No! No, I did not! You did not consult me on this matter, you just accepted responsibility. For the both of us!"

"He is my little brother, Daemon!"

"He is not our responsibility!"

"He is now!"

"Because you took action without a word to me!"

"I did not need to consult you; he is my blood."

"But not mine."

You scoffed, "For fuck's sake, Daemon, do you hear yourself? You are whinging over a child - you're bloody jealous of a child! Where is the man I married?"

"I have done all I am expected and required as a husband, it is you who refuses my seed. Who refuses to grow our family!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Now you want a baby!? Married ten years, we are, and NOW you want to whinge about babies!? I am busy in case you've not bothered to look around every once in a while," you snapped, "and I understand having a baby is not ideal right now!"

"So, you will not take my seed because you are busy raising another man's?"

"He was my father - oh, Gods be good, why're we fighting over this?"

"You need to understand, he is not mine," Daemon seethed. "He will never be mine and I do not wish to treat him as such. The life and luxury we live in are not meant for a child that is neither of ours."

"What would you have me do!?"

"Send him to your brother."

"Oh, spare me this notion, Daemon! I will not hear of it! No! We are not discussing this again and again!"

"You mean to disobey me then, wife?" He snapped, making your mouth snap shut. "Huh? Think you're immune to the duties you must uphold as a woman? Think that allows you free rein? You are luckier than most that I allow you to have a fucking opinion; do not abuse my generosity. You want the child to stay, fine, I hear you, but I say he goes. Guess who's want will triumph?"

You blinked several times, unable to find words.

"Nothing to say?" He taunted. "That is a first, wife, you surprise me. In your moment of silence, do well to listen to me now: the child goes, or I do. You either get rid of the child or I will remove myself from this sham of a marriage."

"I do not recognize you, you are not my husband," you finally sighed. "Do me a favor and figure you may speak to me again once you're ready to apologize. If not, I assume by week's end, we will be celebrating both Rhaenyra's wedding and our annulment."

"Too much time has passed for such - "

"I know a Septon that will forge documents. Now," you eyed him up and down, "once more, do not think to speak to me unless to grovel for my forgiveness."

"You will die before that happens."

You nodded slowly, then shrugged and dodged around him to exit the room. You could not bear to be around him any longer, storming away to where your small brother was being looked after by a Septa. You did not speak to Daemon the rest of the day, feeling yourself brimming with anger as you replayed his words.

How dare he find insult in your desire to do "the right thing" by caring for your brother after your parents met their untimely demise? How dare he cite "wifely duties" to you? Just how dare he!

The day was supposed to be merry. It was supposed to be lighthearted and fun and romantic and exciting and gossip worthy. Yet now, you were feeling annoyed, frustrated, weighed down, and plain stupid. You felt alone. You felt tired and worn thin. Your little brother, Jamie, always put a smile on your face, but now, you were simply ready to cry just by looking at him. This planted the seed of resentment towards Daemon, and through the day, only festered.

"My Lady?" You glanced in the mirror to see your hand maiden, who was doing your hair, humming in question. "Alyria has arrived, she will watch young Lord Jamie for the evening."

"Good, thank you," you sighed. "Has Daemon come around?"

"No, my Lady."

"Hmm."

Not 30 minutes later, you were walking towards the decorated throne room with your hair braided back, make-up laid perfectly, and your dress a dark grey, black, and Targaryen red.

However, before you could walk in, someone called your name. You paused, letting Daemon approach you, his eyes raking you in as he realized you dressed to match him. "You look beautiful," he complimented, but you just stared; then sighed through your nose and straightened up. "What? You're not speaking to me?"

"I told you the terms in which you should find it acceptable to speak to me again."

Daemon scoffed, "You're still on that?" You did not answer, just stared forward. "Fine, be that way. Come," he offered his arm, but you brushed past him to finally enter the throne room. Your names were announced, albeit begrudgingly because most in the castle harbored ill-will towards Daemon. They just felt bad for you, not knowing of the man you had grown to know and love unconditionally.

You took long strides to shorten your journey, but behind you, your husband just sauntered in as if the center of attention. However, no matter where he was, Daemon was always the main character, and he was quite the peacock in flaunting himself. You bowed to the King and his daughter, heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra. You took your seat beside the Hand of the King, Ser Strong, as Daemon climbed the stone stairs with a smug expression before taking the seat beside you at the very end.

Needless to say, Daemon was not accustomed to being ignored. You did not look at him, did not speak to him, ignored his direct questions, even went as far as to slapping his hand away when he reached for your thigh. When your hand rested on the table and he laid his over yours, you pulled it back.

It drove Daemon absolutely up the wall.

"And how fairs your brother, my Lady?" Ser Strong asked gently. "How does he like life in the Capital?"

"He adores it," you hummed with a nod. "He is learning so much and loves watching the boats in the harbor."

"How old is he now?"

"Just shy of 4, my Lord."

"Well, what would the little Prince like for his nameday?"

"Oh, uh, no, he's not a Prince," you spoke gently.

"No? Well, I suppose until Viserys recognizes him."

"Well, Daemon's made it clear that if I do not give custody of my brother up, this marriage is null and void, so," you clicked your tongue cheekily, sipping your wine, "no use in titles."

You knew others heard you and smirked to yourself. Another gulp of wine and you were standing, excusing yourself, and moving onto the dance floor. Rhaenyra giggled when you gave her a playful twirl before taking your place with a partner, falling into rhythm with those around you. The entire time, you felt Daemon's eyes burning into you.

You didn't care. You carried on as if there wasn't a ring on your wedding finger weighing like a full fish net, like you weren't burdened by your marriage.

You danced with a Tully, Stark, Frey, and Lannister boy, all who looked at you like a delectable treat but were being effectively ignored, just like your handsome, white-haired husband. It was a lively time, twisting and turning and leaping and being lifted in ture with the instruments playing. Rhaenyra caught your eye a few times, grinning and giggling as she, too, let herself destress in the glee of the festivities. However, when the Frey lad spun you around, you had thought of the devil so much, there he bloody was.

Your husband smirked down at you, "You look startled, little bird."

You scoffed and moved to go around him, but Daemon's hand was darting out to grab your upper arm. He pulled you further into the crowd to use them as a layer of protection, turning sharply to leer over you. He snapped in High Valyrian, "What're you playing at? Hmm? You mean to embarrass my entire family by being so cold and shrewish?"

You scoffed, glaring at him for a moment before he reached forward to grab your neck and cheek in a possessive hold. "I dare you to raise a sharp word at me," he sneered quietly, keeping you in place. "You have ignored me all fucking day, these games are at an end. I have always known your voice to be a sweet remedy, do not deprive me of it longer."

"Then apologize," You snapped.

"For what? Speaking the truth? That you refuse to sire my children because you are too occupied with your wee brother? For taking in a child without so much as asking me? Tell me, what am I apologizing for?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, and swatting his hand from you. However, just as you meant to walk away from him, someone gasped and yelped from the people around you. Daemon brought you into his chest as a sudden crowd thickened, two bodies hitting the floor in a gruesome fight. This encouraged others to get rowdy, and before you could comprehend his actions, Daemon was stooping low to hoist you over his shoulder and stride away.

When out of the fray, Daemon slowed himself enough to set you down at the base of the stairs leading to the Royal banquet table, both his hands going to your cheeks. He panted lightly, looking you over, "All right? You hurt? They touch you?"

"No, I'm okay," you sighed gently, reaching up to hold his wrists in a brief show of affection. However, the crowd only grew in size and aggression; the Royals all taking refuge on the elevated landing to take a headcount. Not a moment later, Ser Harwin Strong, the Hand's eldest son, was emerging from the crowd with Rhaenyra hoisted up his shoulder.

But your attention was drawn elsewhere. You parted Daemon's side to get under Viserys' arm, lifting him up slightly as he coughed into a handkerchief. You frowned when you saw the blood, his eyes meeting your wide ones. You asked the only question you could think of, "Does Daemon know?"

"No," he matched your tone in a whisper.

You nodded and assisted him into the closest chair. After the death of Ser Laenor Velayron's paramour (Ser Joffrey, was it?) the hall was cleared of everyone to only leave the immediate family. In hopes of avoiding future turmoil, it was decided that the Realm's Delight, Rhaenyra, was to wed the Sea Snake's son, Laenor, now instead of at week's end. Viserys asked his brother to stay but you were quick to bow out, promising it was a family affair and you should get ready for bed anyways.

Daemon looked close to protesting your departure but was unable to utter a single word, only watching you scamper out of the throne room as the High Septon finally arrived.

Rhaenyra and Laenor married in front of his mother and father, Rhaenys and Corlys, and his sister, Laena. King Viserys was there with his brother Daemon and wife Alicent, leaving only the Hand present to pose as "unbiased witness".

Further into the castle, you collected your brother, Jamie, and quickly got him ready for bed. Your heart felt heavy with guilt as you looked at him, understanding on a deeper level that if it came down to it, you'd do anything to keep Daemon in your life... And if he said your brother had to go or he did, well, you feared to find out if he was serious.

Jamie fell asleep on the long bench at the base of your bed with a fire crackling in front of his face. He had fallen asleep listening to you read, your emotions catching up to you to let you finally sob quietly while preparing for bed. You hated the idea of losing either Daemon or Jamie, and the fact that you had to choose? It felt impossible. So, once ready for bed, you tied on your dressing robe and bent at the waist to kiss Jamie's forehead. You then found yourself standing at the floor-to-ceiling window, wine in hand, staring out into nothing as you were wrecked emotionally from considering Daemon's ultimatum.

You were overwhelmed.

The door opened behind you and your eyes screwed shut. You took an even breath in, heard the door shut quietly, and then turned to spy your husband already staring at you. His face was neutral, passive, and you knew he was sizing you up just as you were him; both waiting for the other to make the first move.

Your resolve crumbled.

As if your minds were connected by a string, you surged forward as Daemon took a few steps toward you, meeting in the middle, and wrapping your arms around one another. Daemon held your waist tightly as yours tied around his neck in a vice grip, breathing in his scent that seemed to mingle permanently with the smell of dragon. He felt gentle trembling from contained sobs, soothing you with hushed cooing; hand petting the back of your head.

When you pulled back, it was only just enough to find his lips; drenching yourself in sheer relief at the familiar taste and feel of your husband. Just before you could whimper you were sorry, truly being unsure what you were actually apologizing for, when he beat you to it.

The space between your lips was filled with Daemon's rushed words, both his hands cradling your cheeks as he spoke, "I'm so sorry, my love. I am. I am truly so sorry. I hate fighting, I hate us fighting, it just feels so fucking wrong, I'm so sorry."

"No, it is I who am sorry, husband."

"Nothing to apologize for," he rushed, forehead glued to yours as he moved you backwards to the bed. "You do not apologize to me; you have done no wrong. It's me, I am the one who should grovel. I do deserve your kindness; I am so sorry for what I've said." He took a long breath, just holding you carefully, "I was out of line."

"No, you were right. I did not consult you; I should have. It is not just you or I in this, but the two of us together. I shouldn't have acted without so much as a word."

"It is okay," he assured softly, "it is more than all right by me now. I just," he sighed, "I needed to think, process a little. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, I should've listened to you and been a supportive husband, but instead, I just fought with you." He frowned, petting down your face with a dainty finger. "We fight because we care, but Gods do I hate it."

"I do, too," you whispered. "Can we just," you sighed, "go to bed or something? I'm exhausted."

He nodded, glancing at the foot of the bed before looking back at you, "One more thing."

"Hmm?"

"We will talk to Viserys in the morning about recognizing Jamie."

You frowned, "Well, hang on, I think I understand your point, too, Daemon. Listen, yes, I want us charged with Jamie's care, but I do not wish to replace his parents."

"He should still have a title, a place at court. Access to tutors and such."

You smiled fondly, whispering, "That is the man I married."

Daemon prepared for bed as you check Jamie, finding him fast asleep still. Your husband came to bed after blowing out all candles, leaving the fire simmering and you both under a single linen sheet. He laid on his back with you flush against his side, both hands holding your form and tracing idle patterns.

Every so often, he'd squeeze you tightly and kiss your forehead, but otherwise, you both just laid in peace. However, Daemon broke the silence, "I did not mean to cause you harm. I just felt panicked, I think, after the war."

You nodded with understanding, "Our time is on the horizon, Daemon, I promise, I just needed to find balance with Jamie. I've never been a mother before, 's very odd."

"Perhaps we can learn together, I've never been a father," Daemon offered softly. "I fear I have not been entirely welcoming."

"You've time to remedy it," you urged softly. "But you are not obligated."

"He will be our shared responsibility."

You smiled against his chest. "So, tell me of the wedding."

"Nothing special," he sighed. "Viserys fell ill. And I do mean literally fell."

"What? Is he all right?"

"Yes, he's being seen to... But I was thinking..."

"Of?"

"Us. Our family."

"Hm, and what of them, my love?"

Daemon sighed, reaching for your cheek in order to find your lips in the dark. "We will leave," he whispered, licking another kiss to your lips. "We'll go across the Narrow Sea together, raise a family away from the politics and chaos."

"You would miss your family."

"I would rue staying in this city. Away from here, we'd have liberties and freedoms Kings Landing does not offer us, nor our kids."

"I will think on it."

When morning broke through the window of consciousness, Daemon realized you were still sound and dead asleep, but there was something or someone poking his arm in an annoying repetition. When he blinked awake and looked to the culprit, he smiled slightly at Jamie. "What's wrong, little lad?" He asked quietly, voice heavy and hazy with sleep, seeing tears fill the kid's eyes.

"I-I didn't mean to."

"Mean to what?"

"I wet the bed," he frowned, looking at the lounge he slept on all night. "I didn't mean to. It was a scary dream."

"It's okay," he whispered, glancing at you before standing from bed. "C'mon, it's all right, we can clean it."

He nodded and let Daemon sit him at the bottom of the mattress, some two full feet from touching you. Jamie watched Daemon work, gathering any linens to set aside to be washed before plucking the child into his arms. He took his to the washroom and got him cleaned up before redressing him for the day, Daemon quickly doing the same, and then the two left for the day.

You slept while Daemon took Jaime to breakfast. You slept while the two ate and made merry; getting to know each other. You slept while Daemon answered little Jamie's questions. You slept while Daemon offered to introduce him to Caraxes, his dragon.

By the time you were awake, dressed, and approaching the mess hall, Daemon and Jamie were leaving to head for the Dragon Pit. When they saw you, Jamie grinned and squealed, "Sissy!"

You grinned when he rushed for your legs, greeting him with enthusiasm. You hoisted him onto your hip as Daemon approached you, pausing to lean in and kiss you. "Where are you two lads off to?"

"Dragons!"

You chuckled, "Yeah? Uncle's taking you to see the dragons? You're very lucky, not many people get to see them up close."

"Would you care to join us?" Daemon offered.

"No, no, that's quite all right. Thank you, my love, but perhaps this is best kept to a boy’s trip," you quipped, pecking Daemon's lips. "Bring him back in one piece, please."

"Of course," Daemon agreed, taking Jamie's hand when you set him on the ground. He stole one last kiss before leading Jamie away; where you watched them walk away and felt something stirring in your gut; suddenly come alive with tingling electricity. Instead of venturing into the mess hall, you instead continued your way to where you could meet the Grand Maester for a series of tests.

Learning you were pregnant was surreal, but incredibly elating. You were humored by the fact that, just hours ago, you and Daemon feuded for this very reason. However, after simply seeing your husband and little brother get along so effortlessly, you had no doubt in your mind you could handle this. Worrying about having Jamie and a newborn so close together was valid, of course - but it wasn't something you actually needed to worry about now.

Plenty of families had children with shorter age ranges, but none of that matters now - not when you were so explicably happy. All that was left to do now was tell Daemon and Jamie.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon #daemon hotd #house of the dragon daemon #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd x you #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon x reader #daemon x you

3K notes · View notes

bedoballoons · 7 months

Note

Oh wow fantastic I loved it!! now I kinda want a part two to the whole short post what did happen after finding out there darling likes tall guys how will they comfort there rival

I'm assuming you meant confront! I hope so at least cause that's what I wrote! If not I can totally write a second one! Thank you so much for your request!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Yanderes confront their rivals~༺}

This is a Part 2! Part 1:

CW: Fighting, using their obsession to get information, a knife is mentioned, Freminet trains you to like him, descriptions of blood, slight gore, confronting, yandere themes, some angst, and Lyney call reader mon amour!

(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Venti, Freminet, and Aether!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

You knew Lyney was the reason Neuvillette had gone missing, it was obvious and yet no one could arrest him because there wasn't enough evidence, not to mention without the Chief of Justice...how could you have a trial? The whole of Fontaine was now in disarray, searching for Neuvillette everywhere and anywhere Lyney could have taken him, but not a single place had any results.

You didn't even know if he was still alive...but you just couldn't give up, thats what led you to this moment, honeyed words slipping past your lips and your arms around Lyney, batting your eyes at him..."Lyney, I'm all yours, Neuvillette is no longer a threat to that I promise. Let him go..." The magician sighed softly, so tempted, so enraptured by you that he almost gave it away from your beautiful eyes alone, "You know as well as I do mon amour, if I do as you ask...I'll be taken away to Meropide. Away from you..."

You bit your lip, wandering how deep into this act you'd have to go in order to convince him, "Not if they don't catch you, we can run away together... just you and me..." You kissed his cheek and he caved...unable to resist you any longer, "I can't say no to that..."

He reached out his hand, a card between his fingers...but it wasn't like any of his others, it was blue with a a outline of Neuvillette. "Neat isn't it?" Lyney asked when he'd caught you staring and with a snap of his fingers the card began to change, blue smoke circling around a spot on the ground until it sudden disappeared, leaving Neuvillette in its place...

"Neuvillette!"

He seemed perfectly healthy, shaken to say the least, but otherwise fine. It felt like you could breath again like everything would be okay...he could save you...right?

𑁍༄Tighnari:

You hadn't heard from Tighnari in over a week and you felt so guilty...after how hard it must have been to confess his feelings, you shot him down without even a moment to think if you really wanted to,... just because he wasn't exactly your type. Now he was probably in his home, regretting his decision to ever tell you how he felt in the first place...ever be nice to you at all for that matter.

You sighed, opening the door to your humble abode, only to see one of the most terrifying things even your nightmares could have prepared you for, "T-tighnari?" The fennec fox looked up at you with a crazed smile, a small hunting knife tightly gripped in his hand...the blade of it against against what looked to be a drugged Alhaitham, "You're finally home! We've been waiting for you...sorry to barge in uninvited but I had to show you that I was better than him. Let you see that I can overpower him, even though he's stronger and...taller."

You felt your chest tighten with fear, your hands shaking uncontrollably, "What... d-did you do to him Tighnari?" Meanwhile Tighnari was acting as if this was a casual hangout between the two of you, his tail swaying behind him and his ears twitching in delight, he even chuckled when Alhaitham attempted to mutter something, "Don't worry, he's just poisoned. I asked if he wanted something for a headache he was having and then I gave him something, it just wasn't what he had in mind..."

"Tighnari...let him go. T-this is crazy!" You felt tears welling up in your eyes, your body screaming at you to run for help and yet you felt frozen, unable to move a muscle. "I'm not crazy, I'm dedicated,...to you. I want nothing more than to be with you and if I have to make sure the scribe isn't able to interfere to have that, then I will." His eyes sparkled at the mention of being with you...

"...just let him go. Give him a antidote and I'll s-stay with you. Please Tighnari, don't hurt anyone more than you already have, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shot down your confession so quickly, but I'll m-make it up to you" You reached your hand out and he wasted no time accepting it, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, all of it seeming so innocent..

"As long as you stay with me...no one else will ever get hurt."

𑁍༄Venti:

You'd never seen such a war before...archons battling against eachother, destroying the land with power far greater than you ever could have imagined, all of this...because you couldn't see yourself with someone short, what was Venti doing! By now there was a large crowd of people, some from Liyue, some from Mondstat and each of them cheering for their own Archon. There were even fights breaking out over who was better....

This had to stop. "Venti! Venti listen to me! I know you're angry and that's okay, but starting a war just because I said I wasn't into you isn't the way to feel better!" You shouted as loud as you could, but he wasn't able to hear you, the sound of large rocks crashing into the ground and highwinds ripping trees right out of the land impossible to talk over. Was it a lost cause...?

You shook your head, unable to give up at the thought of your friend getting hurt...even if he was stupid for starting it in the first place...you cared about him. You swallowed your fear and gathered up all of your courage, running into the danger zone, barely able to keep your footing while you continued to call to the anemo archon. "Venti! Vennntii!!"

Suddenly the part of land you'd been running on ripped away from the rest of the ground, flying upwards with you holding on for dear life, "Venti! Hellpp!!!" You felt your grasp slipping and then you were spinning, falling back down at such speed you'd die on impact, you shut your eyes tightly, praying for everything to be okay.

Then there was a gentle breeze surrounding you.. lifting you upwards, the entire battle out on pause when you came face to face with Venti, shocked to see him in his archon outfit, "Venti please, I'm sorry. Don't take this out on Zhongli, don't make such a big mess because of me. I'm... not worth it." You looked down at all the dilapidated area beneath you...all of this for you?

"You're worth more than every world or star in the entire universe...I'd fight to the end for you." The anemo archon touched your cheek softly.., making you feel something you never had before..

𑁍༄Freminet:

Freminet wouldn't leave your side, keeping you away from Neuvillette at any costs... pampering you with romaritime flowers and ocean shells, convincing you in ever way he could think of that he was better. He'd be there in the morning with warm breakfast and a nice hot beverage, he'd walk with you anywhere you needed to go so he could keep you safe and...people were noticing. Most thought you were dating. Even congratulating you two...but he always answered before you could, thanking them happily.

Truthfully...he was training you to only want to be around him and it was working...

𑁍༄Aether:

"ITTO!" You screamed, your skin paling at the sight of the Oni you had been crushing on so much, taken down to the ground with dark crimson blood dripping from his head onto grass beneath him, his face badly bruised and beaten up. You couldn't even tell if he was breathing, your heart racing as you looked to the culprit... his face speckled with deep red flecks of blood and sickening smile on his lips..

"W-why...Aether, you're supposed to be a hero why would you...he didn't...h-he didn't deserve this!" You rushed to Ittos side, holding his large hand in yours and staring at the damage someone you thought you could trust caused.

"I did it for you. Now he can't take you from me..., now there's only one hero for you and it's me." Aether grabbed your wrist harshly, pulling you close to him while you tried desperately to shove him away, "No! Let go of me! Help! Someone help!!" You screamed frantically, searching for any other signs of people...but nobody was around? How was that possible! It was the city?!

Aether smiled at you sadistically, "Being a famous hero and knowing important people means I can say there's a need to evacuate...and everyone will just leave. No one...can hear you now..."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚*⁠.⁠✧

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cheolhub · 1 year

Text

PURITY — KIM MINGYU ࿐

summary. you finally let your hot college boyfriend take your virginity. <3

wc. 1.2k

warnings. virgin f!reader, fingering, corruption kink, virginity loss, heavy praise, big dick!gyu, size kink <;333— MINORS DNI 18+

note. hehe mingyu ur so … !!! my chest hurts

college hottie, kim mingyu, has a big dick and a high libido. he knows, all of his friends know, and all of the girls know. it’s not hard to miss… with the evident dent in any pair of pants he decides to wear and the way he proudly carries himself, even being as humble as he is. even with a sex drive as high as his, he’s willing to wait for you, his precious virgin girlfriend. that’s what he told himself, at least.

but kim mingyu was never one for patience– you knew that, so you were quick to try and please him.

“gyu… i think ‘m ready…” the words came out of your mouth so meek and docile. that was all it took for him to jump your bones, knowing exactly what you meant. it’s almost as if he was counting the seconds till you were ready.

now, with tears streaming down your flushed face, he has three of his fat fingers shoved inside your incredibly tight cunt cooing at you. “baby, don’t cry, look at you doin’ so well for me,” the smile on his face is a stark contrast from his wicked movements, yet the words make you tighten around them. mingyu’s smile widens at the feeling, “good girl,” he praises once more, hearing the high-pitched moan he’d been waiting for slip from your now-swollen lips.

your back arches off the bed with the impressive speed of his fingers plunging in and out of you. the way his fingers stretch out your cunt and make you feel so full, you’re not sure how you’ll ever take his cock. it hurts, but it also feels… sensational. with every second that passes, you find yourself growing more aroused, pure ecstasy on the tip of your tongue.

you whine, teetering on the edge of an orgasm, needing one last push, “mingyu! more! wan’ more, please!”

mingyu groans at your begs, feeling his rock-hard cock twitch in his pants. “fuck, baby, wanna try takin’ my cock? promise ‘m gonna make you feel so good,”

you don’t have the patience to object or hesitate. you nod, vigorously, head spinning with need and pleasure. you trust mingyu with your life, he would never do anything to deliberately hurt you. though, doubts begin to form once you finally see how big he actually is.

he catches your intense stare, noticing fear flooding your eyes, “‘s not gonna hurt, pretty girl,” he murmurs, leaning in to peck your lips. “got you all ready for me, ‘s gonna feel good. breathe ‘n trust me, yeah?”

you nod again, hesitantly, watching as he lines up the bulbous head of his fat cock with your drooling pussy before taking a deep breath. he inches in slowly as he’s met with a bit of resistance. soft cries of his name fall from your mouth as you feel every inch of him sliding in between the soaked gummy walls of your cunt.

“‘m-m right here, sweetheart, i gotcha,” he moans, taking a hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly. he looks at you with hearts in his eyes, witnessing your contorting face– eyes screwed shut and brows scrunched together as your mouth is slightly cracked open letting your honey-laced voice free. “god, you’re so perfect, baby, so good f’me,”

his words head straight to your aching pussy, clamping down on what you hope is half of his dick. when he bottoms out, you feel his fat tip kissing your cervix. thanks to his extensive prep, it didn’t hurt as bad as you heard and thought it would’ve, instead, feeling an immense amount of pleasure and satiation. “gyu, fuck!” you mewl.

he groans as you grip him like a vice, choking out a soft, “how are you?”

you can’t hold back your voice,“‘s deep! so big, gyu, o-oh fuck,” you cry. “s-so full, mingyu, can feel you here,” your hand guides him to your lower tummy. “so good, so so good,”

mingyu takes this as his cue to move, slowly sliding out before slamming back into you, cock throbbing with the desire to release. “gonna make you cum,” he keens, repeating his actions with more aggression. “gonna make you cum so good, baby, you’re such a good fuckin’ girl, all f’me,”

you mewl for him once more, squeezing his hand with force as his cock consistently fucks in and out of you, abusing your already battered cunt. all of a sudden, you feel the nimble fingers of his free hand on your swollen clit, rubbing sweet circles into you. you pant, chest heaving up and down at the unanticipated impact.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, gyu… mingyu!” you squeal.

your body feels like it’s on fire, a new commotion bubbling in the pit of your stomach— like a knot begging to snap. mingyu can tell, the high-pitch squeals, shrieks, and moans of pleasure, you’re about to cum for the very first time and he’s about to be the first and only to watch it all unfold.

it’s already so loud, too— the consistent sounds of him slapping against you, your cries and pleads, his deep groans and soft praise. you’re sure mingyu’s neighbors can hear you. hell, the entire student apartment complex could probably hear you.

“cum f’me, baby, you can do that f’me, yeah?” he grunts, ramming against your cervix and his fingers brazenly picking up the pace on your clit.

the pleasure… it’s too much for your poor, corrupted body, the second he tells you to cum for him, you do so. your first, of many, earth-shattering orgasms has your thighs convulsing and your back slightly arched under him, eyes rolled back and inaudible noises coming out from your mouth.

he beams, moaning happily at the way you clamp down around his cock for the nth time, “oh, fuck yeah, you’re such a good girl,”

it’s better than he could have ever imagined. you look so perfect under him, moaning, shaking, cumming all because of him. he can’t even help the fact that he’s fucking you through your climax, desperately chasing his own.

he chuckles, breathily, his cock twitching inside of you. without warning, he moans softly, “cumming, shit,” pulling out and fisting his wet cock up and down with pure need. throwing his head back, the adam's apple in his throat evident with his gulps and whimpers. soon after, he shoots out thick, white ropes of cum onto your twitching body, dressing your bare tummy and swollen pussy with the sticky substance that is completely foreign to you. he rides out his high, pumping slower and slower each time before finally gasping for air.

he collapses next to you, turning to face you in a defiled state, “you doin’ alright, baby? did i hurt you?”

you whimper, desire filling your body once more after witnessing his release, “wan’ more of your cock, gyu, already love it so much,” you pout, giving him cute doe eyes that he simply can’t resist. “wan’ feel your cock in me again… ‘s so good.”

everyone knows kim mingyu has a high libido with the constant thirst for sex, but he may have just turned his precious little virgin into a spoiled, corrupted cockslut.

#seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu smut #mingyu oneshot

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nolita-fairytale · 9 months

Text

burn your life down | chef luca x fem! reader | part seven

summary: you and luca go to a club opening and take an opportunity to learn more about each other.

warnings: fluff, smut (18+ only), eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 5.3k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist

a/n: hi cuties. here is a long chapter with a whole lot of juicy content considering i've been gone all week. i'm also hard launching what luca's last name could be in this series -- something i've brainstormed with @arctvrvs and @superhoeva. there IS smut so please be respectful of it being 18+ only content.

also: mild implication on reader/mc having some kind of asian heritage, but you can super not take it that way, which is why i wrote joe's family as japanese-english. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

part six | masterlist | part eight

“Cool shoes,” you say, your eyes fixed to Luca’s choice of Nikes for the night, instantly chuckling to yourself as you realize how silly the words coming out of your mouth sound. It’s like you’re a kid again, sitting on the back of the bus with her crush, trying to come up with something– anything – to say.

Luca chuckles, stealing a glance your way as he replies, “Yeah I've got a bit of a thing for them – trainers.”

“I… noticed,” you say, exchanging a look with him, your eyes meeting his as the two of you sit side by side on the train.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, there’s the coffee table book – that and you wore some to the ballet,” you explain, a blush running across your cheeks.

“You noticed that?” he questions with a hint of amusement in his voice, only a little surprised that you’ve picked up on the little things before he’s shared them with you.

“I notice you,” you answer, your voice quieter, yet genuine in your admission.”

He smirks.

“And?”

“And… so far, I like what I see,” you flirt, boldly, this time.

The right side of his mouth turns up into a small smile, and while you’re too busy reading his facial expressions, Luca’s busy finding your hand with his. You can feel it: the lightest touch that sets off butterflies in your belly, his fingers tangling with yours as you ride the train with him to Vesterbro, the humble beginnings of something good.

As Luca continues glancing over at you, he shakes his head incredulously, letting out a small laugh in the opposite direction.

“Hmm?” you hum, inquisitively, stealing a glance his way this time.

“You just ehm…” he trails off, almost as if he’s not sure how to say what he wants to say next. “... you look… really beautiful tonight.”

“Uh-, I-, Thank you,” you stumble through, deciding you’ll just accept his compliment.

It’s not like you don’t know it – didn’t know what you were doing when you put on the barely-there lace bodysuit meant to be a lingerie teddy, that lays perfectly layered underneath your high rise pair of denim. The plunge neckline is cut deep, showcasing quite a bit of inner boob, so much of your cleavage, that you put pasties on just in case. You can tell Luca’s having trouble not ogling you as you smirk, giving his hand a confident squeeze.

As you get off the train and back up to street level, you discover that it’s not a long walk to where the newly-opened club is located. Luca hasn’t let go of your hand and you savor the feeling of new love as the two of you walk hand in hand.

“So explain to me again what all the drama’s about again,” Luca requests, recalling something you previously mentioned.

“Oh it’s a whole thing,” you sigh, as you begin trying to explain yesterday’s gossip. “The guy Jesper is dating is one of the guys opening the club. I don’t think it’s serious, perhaps just a… fling of sorts, but Jesper’s ex-girlfriend who he dated for two years is a… well, she’s a bit of an influencer and it’s a whole thing because she’ll be there too.”

“Ooof,” Luca sounds, giving you a grateful hand squeeze.

“Yeah. Any ex girlfriends we might run into tonight?” you ask, only half-joking.

Luca shakes his head, “I doubt it. I don’t get out much.” He pauses. “Think my last serious ex-girlfriend moved to Spain a year ago or so.”

You hum in response, momentarily relieved that the likelihood of running into any of Luca’s exes tonight is low, considering it wasn’t something you’d worried about until the words were coming out of your mouth. You’re ready to wait in the line that’s formed outside of the club until you hear the sharp sound of Jesper calling your name, waving you into the club. You watch as he exchanges words with the bartender, while Luca mutters something to you about how fancy he feels about skipping the line.

You and Luca follow Jesper down the long, dark hallway, the feeling of pulsating music and a heavy bassline undulating underneath your feet with each step. It feels more like a grungy club in Berlin than Copenhagen, but it seems like it’s what they’re going for, and you thank your past-self for choosing to wear something this sexy. While you feel out of place, at least you look like you knew what you were getting yourself into.

“I’m glad you made it!” Jesper shouts over the loud music as he leads you and Luca to a table in the VIP area.

“What? Thought I’d skip?” you shout back with a raised eyebrow.

This time, Jesper leans in closer, “Thought you and Prince Charming would have a hard time leaving the bedroom now that you two are-.”

“Jesper!”

“What?” he asks with a shrug, looking from you to Luca, who sends you a quizzical look of his own.

You send him an ‘I’m so sorry’ look before ignoring Jesper’s comment.

“I don’t think I’m drunk enough for this yet,” you say, and you’re only half-joking.

“Can I get you a drink?” Luca asks, overhearing your comment.

“Yes,” you nod, before telling him your drink order.

“Great. I’ll go,” he offers, though it’s more like a confirmation than anything else. He leaves the sweetest peck on your lips, earning a look from Jesper as you watch Luca disappear into the crowd.

“Please don’t tell me you haven’t-,” Jesper groans.

“We haven’t,” you interject, firmly.

“You’ve got more self control than I would,” Jesper sighs, disappointedly as he shakes his head your way.

Before you can reply, a pair of arms are wrapping around you as Mathilde’s voice follows with:

“Jesus Christ! Who said you could be hotter than me at my brother’s fling’s club opening?” Mathilde teases you, giving you a big hug.

“It’s not just a fling!” Jesper protests at the same time as you, replying with: “It’s good to see you too, Mathilde.”

It really had only been a few hours since you closed down the restaurant for the night, but seeing the Mikkelson twins off the clock was a whole other animal. You can imagine a time, when they were both single, that the two of them could have ruled the Copenhagen social scene – two fiery forces to be reckoned with.

“So have we run into the ex-girlfriend yet?” you ask, desperate to get the spotlight off of whether you and Luca had slept together yet.

“Ahhhh,” Mathilde smirks. “No sign yet, but my money is on a fashionably late arrival.”

“What’s the drama? Claudio knows you’re bi. You and Sofia ended on good terms. I don’t get it,” you ask, curiously.

“Because it’s Claudio’s big night. And I don’t want anything to fuck with it,” Jesper begins.

“And because Jesper’s a big drama queen,” Mathilde adds, as her brother glares at her in response.

“Who cares about how the night goes,” you chime in, from the perspective of an optimist.

“So you and Luca…” Mathilde solicits, raising her eyebrows a few times cheekily.

“It’s good,” you guys, a broad smile spreading across your lips. “I mean… it’s really, really good.”

It’s good morning texts. And funny cartoons he sends you from the paper. And using him as a soundboard for new dish ideas.

“I’m proud of you, babe,” Mathilde smiles proudly. “For taking the leap.”

“I-,” you begin, before pausing. “Me too. I’m proud of me too.”

It’s then that you see Luca appear, just at the opening of the VIP area, headed in your direction with Emil following closely behind.

“Hey!” you greet the both of them as they approach. While Luca has your drinks, Emil carries a tray filled with shots that you're not entirely sure you’re ready for. Your eyes widen. “Shots?”

Emil only shrugs, as Jesper corrals you, Luca, and Mathilde for a round of shots. You all pick up the soon-to-be-yours shot glasses, as Luca scoots over so that he stands closely, next to you.

He leans in, the feeling of his lips ghosting over your ear sends a chill down your spine as he murmurs, “How much do you want to bet we’ll regret this tomorrow?”

“Oh, so much,” you answer, turning ever so slightly towards him, your lips inchest away from his.

“To a night of letting loose,” Jesper shouts over the loud music as he begins his toast. “To old friends.” He pauses, toasting his glass towards Luca this time. “And new.”

“Skal!”

“Skal!” you all echo as you cheers.

“Eye contact!” Jesper orders, earning a laugh from you and another questioning look from Luca.

Over the electronic music and flashing laser lights, you take in the sound of shot glasses hitting the table, the faces made in response to the bitter liquid, the whoops and cheers of a triumphant first shot of the night.

You set your shot glass down on the tray along with the other empty ones as Luca asks you:

“Eye contact?”

“Yeah,” you shrug in response, taking a more flirtatious approach as you continue your explanation. “You’ve gotta make eye contact while you cheers or it’s seven years of bad sex.”

“Huh,” Luca smirks in response as you take his hand.

“I think I’m ready for a proper drink now,” you coo, a seductive tone in your voice that Luca hasn’t heard yet.

He likes it. Not just because it’s for him, but because he likes discovering these new parts of you, unraveling you as he goes, finding something different every time.

And the more he learns, the more he likes you.

He really likes you.

Luca is quick to locate where he put your drinks down right before you started taking shots. He hands you yours, then goes for his this time, raising his glass towards you.

“Cheers,” you say with a raise of an eyebrow.

“Cheers,” he replies, clinking his glass with yours with immovable eye contact.

You raise your glass to your lips, taking your first sip, as Luca does the same, holding your gaze the entire time as if it’s a damn promise. Before anything can get too heated (because you swear the way he’s looking at you could start a forest fire) you hear the sound of Mathilde’s voice as she saunters over to the two of you.

“Luca!” you hear her call out. “Come. Have a sit. I want to know everything about you.”

You giggle, watching her usher Luca away so that she can bombard him with questions, and your heart fills with warmth. He’s here – meeting your friends, meeting your people – and you don’t even feel like running in the opposite direction.

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

In tandem with the loud, pulsating dance music, you move your hips in a swaying motion, against the feel of Luca’s tall, broad body. You’ve got your arms wrapped around his neck and at this point, you’re quite sure you’ve lost count of the drinks you’ve had.

That anyone’s had, really.

“Have I told you how absolutely ravishing you look tonight?” Luca rasps, leaning down so that the sound he makes vibrates right against your ear.

You let out a gasp, the feel of his body pressed up against yours and the sound of his voice all feel too good.

“I think last time you said ‘beautiful,’” you tease him, playfully.

“Why can’t it be both, darling?” he asks you, grinning down at you.

Instead of answering, you pull him towards you, pressing your mouth to his in a passionate attempt, yet very sloppy, drunk kiss.

Do you want to get out of here? is what you think he’s going to say, but instead, Luca pulls back from the kiss, only to lean in once more as he whispers in your ear:

“Are you hungry?”

You laugh at the unexpected question, and suddenly, it becomes apparent to you that you’re starving.

“Yes. You wanna get out of here?” you ask back.

“Lead the way.”

Knowing it’ll take longer than you’d like for it too, you bypass the idea of trying to find everyone to say goodbye, and skip right to the Irish Goodbye, leading Luca out of the noisy club and back out to the bustling streets that are the red light district. The two of you are blissfully drunk and giggly as you sit on the train, on the way back to your place.

You’re more than grateful that you live so close to the train station, since it’s only a quick walk back to your apartment.

“I can’t believe those girls from the train were only just starting their night’s. Can you believe it?” you ask with a giggle, as Luca follows you up the stairs of your walk up. You fidget with your keys, unlocking the door as you continue on about how you’re not twenty five anymore and tonight’s reminded you that you can barely keep up now.

But Luca doesn’t answer your question.

Instead, as soon as you close the door behind you, he’s pressing you up against it and kissing you like he’s going off to war tomorrow. You sigh his name against his lips as you kiss him back, completely turned on by the brute force of a man as tall as him. Your head spins as you realize that he’s only just started kissing you and he’s already got you this hot and bothered. You can’t tell whether it’s the alcohol, the way his lips move expertly against yours, or the way his hands snake up your torso, inching dangerously close to the exposed skin of your plunging lace teddy.

“Touch me,” you gasp as an encouragement, impatient with the way your nerves seem to be screaming for more of his touch.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, his large hands moving to cover your breasts, only confirming his suspicions that you’ve been braless this whole time.

This new discovery leads to another moan from his mouth as his hands wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. Luca presses his forehead against yours, abruptly breaking the kiss, his breath heavier, more uneven now.

“Fuck, I think I might be too pissed for this,” Luca murmurs, as you try to catch your breath, knowing that he means drunk.

You giggle, as you admit, “That’s-. Yes. I… too am very drunk.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he starts up again, leaving a small kiss on your lips. “But I’m not sure that’s quite the impression I want to leave on you either.”

“That’s… so respectable,” you say on an exhale, in pure disbelief of how perfect this man is.

“Plus,” he continues, in between kisses as his lips begin to place gentle kisses along your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. “When we do finally sleep together. I want you to remember. Every. Single. Thing. I do to you.”

You’re not sure whether you feel completely sexually frustrated or entirely turned on by how responsible of a decision Luca’s making for the both of you, considering the circumstances. Luca leaves a trail of kisses up your neck once more earning a moan from you as manage to get out:

“Fuck, okay. Just let me cook you something.”

You both laugh as he agrees to the terms of your agreement. You playfully shove Luca off of you, knowing that you won’t be able to function much longer if he stays pressed up against you like this.

“Wait here,” you order, holding up your index finger as if to say, ‘give me a moment,’ before disappearing into your bedroom.

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

By the time you emerge from your bedroom, you’ve changed into one of your favorite t-shirts to sleep in – an old, mildly tattered Rolling Stones tee that you once bought at the thrift shop back in college. Luca’s kicked off his shoes and has found a few of your cookbooks that he’s started flipping through as you pull an amalgam of half-full frozen dumpling bags out of your freezer. With your pan on the stovetop preheating, you silently offer Luca a glass of water, before leaving a soft kiss on his lips once more.

You put a little music on, just something soft for the background as you add oil to the increasingly hot pan. Luca hums along with the song that’s playing, cookbook in one hand, glass of water in the other, as he approaches you, making his way to the kitchen island that sits directly across from your gas stove. He settles in, placing both objects down on the counter top as he sits down on the barstool you have tucked underneath the kitchen island.

There’s a quiet intimacy about the way you move around each other, so comfortable, so familiar, even if you’ve only just met within the last few months. The sound of sizzling hot oil as you place the first frozen dumpling down into the pan adds texture to the symphony of your evening: your choice of music, Luca’s soft humming, the way the pan slides against the coils of your gas stove as you shake it.

“Did you grow up cooking like this?” Luca asks, breaking the comfortable silence between you.

“Uh… yes. And also no,” you reply, cryptically, ready to explain more.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Luca says with a chuckle. “You know… when I met you. When I first came to the restaurant… I was pleasantly surprised.” He takes a beat, taking a quick sip of water as he explains himself. “It’s just that the whole fusion thing got a little tired, a little too played out, but you seem to have given it new breath… new life.” Luca flips the page of the book he’s been examining.

“And I recall you saying something about an Italian restaurant… so the Asian inspired flavors….”

“Yeah, no, it’s a great question,” you reply, turning to look at him as you let the bottoms of the dumplings crisp up. “So my mom was a single parent – raised me solo. Growing up we ate a lot of easy things… you know, like frozen dumplings… and lots of Stouffer’s lasagnas which… you could say that that combination alone is perhaps the foundation of discovering my culinary voice.”

You chuckle, recalling your childhood memories as you share more.

“So no, I didn’t grow up cooking with her often. We didn’t do the whole… sit around a table and make dumplings for hours kind of thing, but Mom always has a bag of ‘em in the freezer and chili oil on hand. But yes, I grew up cooking like this, more so than anything I do now.”

Luca nods as he listens, his half smile growing as you so openly share about yourself. The way he responds to you – to learning about you – only makes you want to share more. It’s all true… but it’s not the whole story.

“Do you have siblings?” he asks, curiously.

“Nope, just me,” you answer, before deciding that you really do want to answer Luca’s initial question.

“I actually learned a lot of this stuff – about miso, how to make a proper dashi, how to pleat dumplings – from Joe. From his mom,” you hesitate, before pausing.

You want to check in with Luca, searching his face for any kind of reaction, before you proceed to talk about your ex husband considering you were so close to getting naked with him just minutes ago.

“Is it okay… if I talk about him?”

“Yeah,” Luca answers with a shrug, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. “He was a big part of your life – of you. And I like learning about you.”

You accept his answer, trying your best to be cool about the fact that the level of emotional maturity it takes to respond that way really impresses the hell out of you. Realizing that it’s time to add water to your fry pan you turn your back to Luca momentarily once more. You add the smallest bit of water from your drinking glass, a white hot sound filling your ears as the cooking process goes from pan-frying to pan-steaming. You cover the pan tightly with its lid before turning back to Luca.

“Joe’s family… they’re Japanese-English, which is really where I learned to start blending my own stories into food,” you explain, with an honesty that makes you feel incredibly naked right now. “His mom would teach me very traditional Japanese recipes when we first started dating – I think it’s how she knew how to connect with me, how we got to know each other, and I was more than eager to learn. we got to know each other. I… sort of always had a thing for food, for cooking, and learning things I didn’t necessarily learn in my immediate family unit… it was cool, you know? I just, I didn’t think it could really be a career, wasn’t my priority at the time to be an artist as the full-time gig.”

“But the more I learned from her, the more I realized that it wasn’t dissimilar from what I’d learned growing up inside of my best friend’s family’s Italian restaurant. And it all just kind of… grew from there. After Joe and I got divorced, I figured it was now or never, take the leap, do the thing I always wanted to do.”

“Opening a restaurant. That was your dream?” he asks, searching for confirmation. You nod as he smiles proudly.

“And look at you now.”

“Yes,” you chuckle, taking a breath. “Yeah, somehow I now have a whole new life and restaurant in Copenhagen.”

“You do,” Luca nods, admiration evident in his eyes.

You take a beat because the way he looks at you sends another rush through you, and this time, you know it’s not the alcohol.

“While we’re on the subject… What about you? What are your parents like?” you ask, shifting the spotlight over to him this time.

“Well, like you, I grew up mostly with a single mom,” Luca replies, as a flash of recognition flashes through your eyes.

“Mostly?” you question.

“Yeah um..” he trails off.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t-,” you interject.

“No, I-, I want you to know,” he reassures you, a soft look in his eyes that makes you want to trust his word, as if he wants you to know him too.

“Okay,” you say, softly.

You’re not sure a man’s ever let you in like this before and it feels terrifying and electric all at once.

“My full name is Luca Davies-Bernardi,” he starts. “...but I dropped the last part when I turned eighteen.” Luca flips another page over, glancing down quickly before he returns his gaze to yours.

“My mum had me when she was pretty young. Got a bit of the short end of the stick when my dad left her and me. I was… three or four maybe? A real tosser, if you ask me.”

“Woah,” you sound on an exhale, as you listen.

“Yeah,” he scoffs, before continuing.

“He got another woman pregnant. Moved back to Italy instead of staying here with us. Apparently I’ve got a sister, out there… somewhere.”

You wait a beat before asking:

“And he never tried to keep in touch?”

“He tried,” Luca admits, a hint of bitterness in the way the words come out. “But I was a really angry kid. And as I grew older, I just didn’t see the point.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, empathetically.

“No it’s-, I dunno,” Luca shrugs. “I much rather put my energy into my relationship with my mum. We’re actually quite close.”

“Yeah?” you ask with a smile, because it really is the most darling thing you’ve ever heard.

“Yeah,” he answers, leaning in to show you the larger forearm piece he has on his left arm. “I got this tattoo for her. She was a nurse… for most of my childhood. It’s what she had to do, so she worked a lot. I had a lot of time on my hands, perhaps why I got into so much trouble as a kid. Really put her through it till I started working in the kitchen.”

“You little rebel, you,” you tease him, with a giggle. Turning your attention back to your stovetop, you remove the lid and the pan for its heat source, before turning off the stove entirely. Giggling again you add, “You know, I’m just trying to picture it.

“Oh, I’m sure I have a few old photos around my flat somewhere,” Luca laughs, as if it’s a promise that he’ll show you someday.

“Your mom sounds like a badass,” you sigh, making your way around your small kitchen island so that you’re standing right in front of him.

“So does yours,” he replies, reaching for your hands.

As your eyes take in the ink that adorns his hands and his arms, you drag your fingertips across the little designs: the A, the scotch bonnet, the nurse tattoo he got for his mother.

“And I like them… your tattoos,” you finally say, breaking the momentary silence between the two of you.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, his eyes catching yours as you look up at him.

“Yesssss. They are… very sexy,” you smirk in return, biting down on your lower lip as you run your fingertips along his inked forearms.

“Glad you like ‘em. They’re permanent,” he preens, showing off cheekily

“Oh shut up,” you tease him as you place the gentlest peck against his full lips.

He chuckles, pulling you in for another kiss, this time deepening it.

As Luca kisses you, your mind wanders to his choice of words.

Permanent.

Of course it’s too freaking soon to think anything else of it other than this:

If it were up to him, Luca’s not planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

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

As the morning light trickles in through your bedroom window, it dawns on you that you are not alone. You blink your eyes open, taking in the image of the gorgeous man that lays beside you.

The one who you ate dumplings with on your couch in the early hours of the morning. The one that fell asleep with you in your bed last night, because there was no way in hell you were letting him walk home at 4 am. The one who's making your heart race and your head spin and who reminds you that there is romance in this world.

Yep, that one.

You slip out of bed, careful not to wake him as you get up to pee, the massive headache a result of far too many drinks consumed last night. You tiptoe into your kitchen, filling up your glasses from last night with fresh water before heading back to the bedroom.

“Good idea,” Luca says, as he notices the glasses of water you return with.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you ask.

He shakes his head, “It’s alright.”

“Figured they’d be helpful considering neither of us are 21 any more,” you joke in reference to the water, as Luca sits up in your bed.

Handing him his glass, he happily takes it before taking a few greedy sips of water. It’s a silent exchange: he hands you the water glass and you place it back on your bedside table before crawling back into bed with him.

The way you fit curled up against his side feels better than you imagined as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, whispering a soft ‘good morning.’

“Morning,” you reply softly.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, or how long it takes, or who makes the first move, but one minute you’re peacefully snuggled up to Luca’s side, and the next, he’s all over you, rolling you over onto your back as he presses hot kisses to your mouth, to your neck, his hands snaking underneath your favorite Rolling Stones t-shirt as you sigh out his name.

“Luca.”

“Yes, love?”

You repeat your plea from last night – now that neither of you are intoxicated.

“Touch me.”

No longer hesitant, Luca grabs at your breasts, his face buried in your neck as he sucks, kisses, leaves love bites all over you as you arch your chest up into his hands. Large hands cover each breast and you moan as you feel his thumbs graze your nipples, your breathing becoming heavier with each touch.

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmurs into your skin, one hand making its way down your body at a smooth, slow pace. His fingers play with the waistband of your panties, and he knows that he’s got you in the palm of his hand as you’re more than impatient for him to continue his exploration.

“May I?” he asks cooly.

You let out a frustrated moan, anticipating his touch like your life depends on it.

“Please,” you beg, a desperateness in your voice that you’re unfamiliar with.

“Well when you ask so nicely,” Luca smirks, cockily.

You wish you had it in you to roll your eyes, to shake your head, to tell him to shut it, but as soon as his fingers slip into your panties, your mind goes blank. He sighs softly at the feel of you, then puts all of his energy into sliding your panties down your legs, the wet heat of you already slick with desire for him.

“My god,” he groans, as soon as his fingers find the wetness that’s pooled between your legs. “This all for me?”

And you don’t even have it in you to reply, letting out a loud, keening moan as his fingers slide through your folds, parting them as he explores new territory. They move up a few inches, dragging your wetness up and down your core, expertly finding your clit as you hiss in pleasure.

“What do you think?” you bite back, letting out another moan.

Luca smirks, watching as you writhe underneath him, enjoying the way you look at his mercy.

“I think,” he begins, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit, earning a gasp from your mouth. “I know. That this is all for me.”

“Fuck!” you cry out as Luca pushes his index finger into you.

The way you feel stretching around his finger elicits a moan from him too this time.

“You’re so tight, love,” he groans, as if he’s getting off to the idea of you.

You fall into a haze as Luca begins to fuck you with his finger. One. Then two. And before you know it, he’s moving at a rapid pace, his fingers buried deep inside of you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you calling out his name while his thumb comes up to pay close attention to your clit once again. You’re on the edge, ready to come undone, the coil that’s building in your belly ready to burst.

It’s all Luca, and fuck, and I’m so close, and yes right there, are met with groans of your name, eyes that look at you like you’re a work of art, and hands that are intent on bringing you to your climax.

“I want to see you fall apart, love,” Luca commands, his voice low and raspy.

And that’s all it takes for you to cum around his fingers while they work you through your climax so beautifully. You cry out his name, your eyes snapped shut as you experience one of the best orgasms you’ve had in a long time.

“Holy shit,” you pant, trying your best to catch your breath as you come down.

You whimper at the loss of him as he slides his fingers out of you, both hands come up to your torso as he kisses you passionately, deeply, breathlessly.

“C’mon,” he says as he pulls away from the searing kiss, knowing that he is fully in control here.

“Let’s get you some breakfast.”

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

a/n: IS EVERYONE DOING OK BC WOW THE SEXUAL TENSION

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

Dirty Work 31

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: it's the weekend but I got schoolwork so I leave you with this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Your sleep is shallow and sparse. You surrender to consciousness as the sky dulls to dim blue. You watch the slow advance of dawn through the slit between the curtain, languishing in the even rhythm of Mr. Laufeyson’s breath. His warmth clouds beneath the covers and makes you sweat, even as you sidle to the edge of the bed.

It isn’t just the blankets that make you swelter. Shame nips at your cheeks and ears as you try to forget the scene in the library. Yet, you know it will likely play out again when you make another mistake.

As the morning hue pales to yellow, you dare to sit up. The covers fall away and you peek back at Mr. Laufeyson. He sleeps soundly, content and calm. If only he could be so placid when awake.

You stand cautiously, certain not to jostle the bed. Waking him would be another sin to tally. You tiptoe around the foot of the bed and flit into the bathroom. You close the door gently, the clasp clicking a bit too loudly in the early lull.

You stop before the mirror but don’t look at yourself. You can’t. You shimmy out of the silky nightgown and fold it on the counter. You shiver and pad across the cold tiles to the shower. You step inside and close the glass door. You can’t wash away what happened but you can start again and do better.

You crank on the shower head and nearly squeal as it pours out cold water. Just as quickly, it turns scalding and you press yourself to the wall of the booth, just outside the umbrella of the deluge. You adjust the faucet and test the temperature with your fingertips. You sigh and step under the flow once more.

You close your eyes and tilt your head back, letting the warmth slake over you. Chills spiral over your skin as water trickles from the swell of your chest. You’re caught in the still moment. You breathe, in, out, deep, slow.

The steam plumes around you, enshrining you in a misty cocoon. Then, all once, the peace breaks and you wince as the glass door opens. The heat puffs out as frigid air washes in and raises bumps on your skin.

Mr. Laufeyson enters without a word, frightening you. He shuts the door, closing you in with him as he steps behind you. You cower and hug yourself as he reaches to adjust the shower head so it sprays past you. He groans and pulls his arms back to stretch by his head. He looms over your withering form.

He touches your shoulder, startling you again. What is he doing? Is this real or a distorted dream you can’t escape? You’re so tired that everything blurs at the edges.

He grips you tighter and turns you to face him. He doesn’t say a word as he bows, bringing his hand to your chin to angle your head back. He presses his lips to yours and hums, his other arm hooking around to bring you flush to him. He kisses you, a man determined, as his hand trails down your back, groping your bottom until you whine.

The peace fractures completely. Your skin buzzes and your insides writhe. His thumb stretches to caress your chin as he consumes you. His nakedness mingles with your own and twitching prod tickles your skin.

He parts and frames your face with his long fingers. Sleep still weighs down his lashes and pales his complexion. He flutters his fingers down your neck and draws both hands to your shoulders. He follows the lines of your arms and guides your hands to his chest. He holds them, pressing so you can feel the taut muscle.

You're alright with more than the water’s temperature. The firmness, the tension in him plucks inside of you. He terrifies you yet enthralls you. The power he has over you is both suffocating and seductive.

He moves your hands down to his stomach. You feel his muscles clench as you do and he lets out a shuddery breath. You stare at his throat, too shy to watch the descent of your touch. He groans as he trails your hands closer together. He closes them around his rigid length and growls.

“Pet,” he rasps as his throat constricts, “I woke and you were gone.”

You swallow, your tongue sticks before you can muster your voice, “Mr. Laufeyson, I’m sor…”

He hushes you and lets you go. You don’t rescind your touch, you don’t dare. He purrs again and grabs your head with both hands, drawing you into another hungry kiss. He devours you until you're breathless and your grip tightens around him. He gasps and nibbles your lower lip.

“Ahhhh,” he sighs and reaches to pull your hands away from him, “no, no…”

He grips your shoulder again, nudging you to face the shower head once more. You quiver as let his hands fall and trace the curves of your sides and hips. He braces you and pulls you against him. He bows his head, looming over you, encircling you with an arm. He dips his nose down to nuzzle your neck.

“It is a new day,” he snarls between nips, “yes?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you tremble even more as his arousal presses to your back.

“Mmm,” he drags his nose up and down the crook of your neck, biting down suddenly so you gasp.

The arm hooked around you bends and he brings his hand to fondle your chest. His other ventures down your pelvis as he wiggles his own, reminding you of his need. He slips his foot between both of yours and inches them apart. He feels along your folds and delves between them, pushing down on that most tender spot.

You squeak as he rolls your clit. You grasp his hip to steady yourself, extending your other arm to the wall. He tweaks and gropes your chest, your nipples budding beneath the downpour. He pulls you back as his fingers work at your cunt, teasing you until you’re slick.

His teeth pinch down on the muscle along your shoulder. Pressure builds as he tortures your flesh with his mouth, sucking until you can’t bear it. He unlatches from you and stands straight, hooking his arm around your neck to pull your head back.

You reach to his wrist, clasping on as your other hand latches tightly to his hip. He rocks slightly against you as his fingers coil your nerves around him. He swirls and flicks around your clit, embers sparking to a flame.

You babble as your head lolls back and your lips part. Your heart beats furiously as you feel the peak building inside of you. His hand crawls further and he feels along your entrance. You twitch and he bends his arm tighter around your neck. He pokes along your cunt, slowly easing a finger into you.

You moan at the sensation of his intrusion. Fiery and fraught as he sinks past his knuckle and to the next. He slides in and out of you, wiggling and curling his finger to test your limits. He slips out complete and presses two fingers to your entrance.

You gasp as he urges both into you. You arch your back and dig your nails into his forearm. There’s pain this time. A sear that stretches you as you teeter on your toes. He’s the only thing keeping you on your feet.

He pushes the heel of his hand to your clit and rocks his hand. The cluster of pressure of sensations knot together and tangle your muscles. You heave, fighting to catch your breath as he plays with you so expertly. You lean your head back and close your eyes. He presses his lips to your temple as his hand carries its motion.

“Oh, pet, you see how nice I can be? Hm? If you’re good for me,” he rams his fingers deeper, squeezing on your bud as your thighs quake.

He moves so his dick is firm against your ass, gliding along your lower back as he rolls his hips. He tilts his hand faster and faster, your breath shaky as pathetic mewls flutter through your lips. You can’t take much more.

“That’s it, pet, you’re so close,” he sneers behind your ear, “remember you must obey…” he nearly shakes you with the violent motion of his hand, “cum for me, pet.”

All at once, you unravel. You cry out as the swell within you bursts and spills into his hand. You shake as you succumb to the violent tides gushing around you. He coils you tighter, his bicep bulging against your neck as he straightens. He bucks against your back and groans as the friction turns erratic.

He grunts and a new warmth pools along your lower back. He spasms as he spurts onto your flesh, quaking as he slows and turns you with him as he staggers to lean against the shower wall. His arm falls from around your neck, instead locking across your chest as he keeps you flush to him. He huffs out as you lean into him, clinging to his arm.

“Pet,” he rasps, “you do make as many messes as you tidy.”

✨

It’s Wednesday. It’s supposed to be your day off, but given the nonentity of Monday, you’re not sure you can still claim that time. You’re too afraid to ask, paranoid that it would come across as lazy. Or worse, neglectful.

Mr. Laufeyson hasn’t said much since the shower. He left you in there and dressed before you emerged. Stunned, you hardly remember picking out the light-blue skirt and blouse in a dark shade of the hue.

Without guidance or permission, you go to the library to tend to the list. Even if it is meant to be your day, you won’t be able to relax so long as there are tasks undone. You peek over at the door to the study, firmly shut, and refocus on the glowing screen.

Your phone, not the touch screen, the flip, chirps. You silence it and check the missed calls. It’s getting worse. The electric, the landlord, and Leslie. You have dozens of unanswered calls. You don’t know what to do. You know you can’t abandon your dad but you feel paralysed to do anything about him.

You shut the phone and hide it away in your bag, sliding it under the desk. Out of sight, out of mind. You rub your eyes and bring your hands to cradle your chin. You stare at the screen, unable to decipher the bullet points as your eyes gloss.

The noise of the door pulling back on its hinges jars you. You sit up abruptly and bat away the haze. You look at Mr. Laufeyson as he fills the door frame.

“Tea.”

Just a single word before he retreats. You furrow your brow and brace the desk, pushing yourself to your feet. You stand and mechanically set off on the task. You need the simple duty to keep you from thinking too much.

In the kitchen, you pace as you wait for the kettle. You fill the pot and arrange a tray. With thee breakfast tea steeped and everything in place, you balance it all and set about the treacherous climb back to the second floor.

You enter through the library, clearing your throat as you pass into the study. Mr. Laufeyson polishes what appears to be a telescope with a cloth as you set down the tray. You step back, folding your hands as you expect your next order.

“I should like it from a cup,” he peeks up pointedly.

You pour a cup and place the pot back down.

“Milk?” You offer.

He shakes his head and his eyes recenter on the telescope. You watch him wipe the edges with the cloth, his finger making a point in the fabric as he traces the finger ridges. You’re hypnotised by his intense attention.

You assume it’s part of his work. From what you know, he collects old things. Maybe sells them too?

“Well,” he stops his work and lowers the telescope, “was there something else?”

“No, Mr. Laufeyson, sorry, I…” you drop your arms straight and push your shoulders back.

You turn on your heel and march to the door. As you reach it, uncertain if you should close it, a chime interrupts that menial concern. You spin and look at Mr. Laufeyson as he arches a brow.

“I’m not expecting visitors,” he states, “I didn’t think the carpenter scheduled.”

“No, it can’t be Ronan,” you murmur thoughtfully.

He sighs, “well, go see who it is.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

You scurry out as your skin speckles with embarrassment. You’re so confused. You can’t get the scene in the shower out of your head but he’s acting like none of it happened. Even as if the night before is just a figment of your own naughty fantasies. You’re starting to think it might be.

You stop at the front door to step into your flats and pad out into the daylight. It’s bright but the sun is crested with pillowy clouds. You can feel a rainstorm brewing in the air. You shade your eyes as you squint across at the gate. You can’t see much beyond it.

You follow the curve of the drive to the control box and peek out through the bars of the gate. You don’t recognise the large SUV on the other side. You push the button to talk through the speaker box.

“Hello?” You utter dumbly into the box.

“Ah, little maid, I’ve come to see my brother,” Thor’s voice booms like thunder, echoing as you hear him both through the speaker and through the gate.

“Erm…” you babble before letting the button go. What do you do?

You turn to look up at the house. You don’t have your phone. You’ll have to run back in and ask. You flee, scrambling back to the door and racing inside without shedding your shoes. Your soles clap up the stairs and you rush into the library, stopping yourself at the threshold of the study. You’re out of breath.

A loud, long honk comes from outside. You gulp as Mr. Laufeyson scowls. His mouth clamps in a tight line.

“Mr. Laufeyson, it’s your brother,” you heave.

He visibly cringes and his eyes flit away in thought. His cheek twitches and he slowly puts down his cup. He stands and rolls his shoulders. He shakes his head as he nears you.

“Stay in the library,” he points you out of the study, “and do not come out until I bid you.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you recite.

“Not even to use the bathroom, you understand?”

A chill ripples over you at his foreboding tone. Once more, you acquiesce. He’s already closing the study door, shutting you in. You go to secure the other one and back up, staring at it as you hear him stomping down the hallway.

As thankful as you are not to encounter Thor again, you can’t help but be unsettled. Why should Mr. Laufeyson be so concerned about his own brother’s presence? Why would he ever need to lock you up away from his own family?

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dirty work #au #maid au #marvel #mcu #avengers #thor

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cevansbrat0007 · 10 months

Text

Case of the Ex: Part I

Summary: Just as you decide to explore your feelings for Ari, an unexpected blast from your past sends you reeling...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Ex-boyfriends, Discussions of Weight, Discussions of Body Image, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Brief Discussions of Race, Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me brainstorm. This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“So do you trust me now, Mr. Carmichael?” You tease as you carefully place several books into your customer’s reusable shopping bag while you wait on the receipt to print. “Because the way I see it, I haven’t steered you wrong yet.”

“Here we go.” The older man grumbles, playfulling rolling his eyes as you punch in the last few numbers to complete the transaction.

“My recommendation track record speaks for itself.” You can’t help but laugh at the look he gives you. As if you two didn’t have the same conversation at least once a month. “I just want you to give me my props.”

“Arrogance isn’t a good look on you, young lady.”

“Who said anything about arrogance?” Your eyes go comically wide as you lean into the theatrics by pretending to look around your shop. “Certainly not me. I’m just a small business owner, standing in front of the best retired florist in all of Bell’s Creek, humbly requesting that he finally give me my flippin’ flowers.”

Mr. Carmichael heaves a weary sigh. “Fine, fine. You were right.” He steps back from the counter to give a dramatic bow. “Jean Hanff Korelitz’s Jacob Bonner was strong enough to rival Stephen King’s own Mort Rainey and Thad Beaumont. Your literary tastes reign superior once again.”

“And there it is.” You rip the receipt from the printer and drop it into the bag before handing it over so that you can rest your elbows on the counter. “Now was that really that bad? It’s not like I asked for one of your Sapphire Sweetheart bouquets, after all.”

“That entire moment was so positively excruciating I almost didn’t live through it.” He keeps his tone light as he slings the bag over his shoulder. “Anyway, same time next month?”

“Can’t wait.” You respond with a wink and a wave. “Wouldn’t miss it. And please give Millie my love.”

“Will do!” He calls behind him as he heads out the door.

Once he’s gone you decide to stand up and stretch, raising your arms over your head. You’re not satisfied until you hear the sound of your spine popping. And then you up the ante, twisting your body from side to side before bending down and touching your toes.

You hold the position for a moment, content to let yourself dangle until you hear the chime of the front door, signaling the arrival of another customer. Which was great news for you, especially since business had been kind of slow this morning.

“Welcome to Baubles & Quills!” You chirp as you quickly right yourself. “How can I he–” The words die on your lips when you get a good look at the person standing just inside the doorway.

“Hiya, Cupcake.”

It’s a nickname you haven’t heard in years. And it had only ever been used by one man. The same one who had broken your heart and left a wound so deep you’d been almost convinced that it would never heal.

And yet there he was. Standing right there in your shop. Somehow even more handsome than you remembered.

Mason J. Prescott.

The seconds tick by, turning into minutes as a loaded silence washes over you both. Whatever you’d been expecting, it hadn’t been this. A visit from your ex-boyfriend had not been on today’s bingo card.

Grinning, Mason closes the gap between you. His long, denim clad legs covering the distance in a few easy strides. Once he’s in front of you he removes his Stetson pinchfront and sits it on the counter before taking the opportunity to run his fingers through his thick black locks.

“Damn if you ain’t a sight for sore eyes.” Still grinning, his gray eyes give you a thorough onceover. It’s a blatant, slow moving perusal that lets you know he likes what he sees. “I swear they don’t make girls as pretty as you out in Brickfield. Must be something in the water.”

“Uh…hi.” You stammer as shock continues to course its way through you.

“You lookin’ to catch some flies there, Cupcake?”

Shit. That meant you were staring. Probably with your mouth open. It was an old bad habit that, up until today, you could’ve sworn you had licked.

“Sorry.” You cough, forcing your brain to reboot.

“No need to be sorry.” While Mason’s easygoing charm used to calm your nerves, today it seemed to be doing the opposite.

“What brings you..?” You trail off to take a steadying breath. “I didn’t realize you were back in town.”

What the hell was he doing here?

“I just flew in last night. Caught a red-eye home from Buffalo, New York..” He decides to explain further after you flash him a quizzical glance. “Dad had me working on a business deal up there. It was a quick trip with an even quicker turnaround.”

Oh. “Got it.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles, scrubbing a hand over his five-o’clock shadow. “My, uh, plan had been to fly back out to Brickfield first and then make the drive. But after speaking with my Mama no less than six nerve-racking times in the span of an hour, I figured I’d be better off coming straight here. And I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel good to be back.” He raps his knuckles on the wood.

“I’m sure they’re all very happy you’re home.” You weren’t really sure what else to say to that, so you kept it simple. Although it still didn’t explain his reason for showing up at what was arguably the equivalent of your doorstep.

“Maybe. Some more than others, I suppose.” His voice drops an octave as he pins you with a knowing look. “Any chance you might be one of those people?”

Your teeth begin to gnaw at your bottom lip as your palms go damp with sweat. Why on earth would he care or not about whether you were happy to see him or not? Especially since you hadn’t spoken in–

“I’ve thought of you damn near every day over the last five years.”

“Mace…” His former nickname comes on the heels of a weary sigh.

“I’m serious, sweets.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t.”

You did not want to do this today. It wasn’t fair or right of him to think he could just pick up and waltz back into your life as if he expected your feelings for him to be the same.

Things had changed since then. You had changed. Everything was different now, starting and ending with you.

“I’ve been thinking…” Now it’s his turn to sigh as he squares his shoulders. “Maybe we made a mistake.”

“Ha!” You let out an unladylike snort, your hand flying to your mouth in an attempt to catch it. “I don’t believe for a second that I’m the reason your Mama pressed you to hussle your ass back to our quaint little town.”

“I came back because I needed to deal with a family matter. But I was thinking about staying because the one that got away also happens to own a shop that’s just down the road from my parent’s ranch.” His sobering admission is enough to send you reeling all over again.

Mason then places his hand atop yours, allowing the slightly roughened pad of his thumb to stroke along the ridge of your knuckles.

“I’m afraid I don’t take your meaning.” You give him your best haughty southern belle impression. “But if you’d like, I can point you in the direction of our Self-Help books. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of helpful literature on learning from your past mistakes. Might I recommend John Purkiss’ bestseller, The Power of Letting Go? I hear it’s a real page turner.”

Your newfound snippiness has your ex-boyfriend rocking back on his heels. He even appears a little stunned. Good.

You weren’t the same meek young woman he’d left behind all those years ago. Something that Mason James Prescott would do well to remember.

“Sheesh, Cupcake.” Your former flame presses a hand over his heart, feigning as if you’d wounded him. “You might’ve shed a few extra pounds when I wasn’t looking, but I see you've also gained a little sass too.”

You fold your arms over your chest as you take a moment to process what feels very much like a backhanded compliment. God’s gift to Bell’s Creek didn’t know it yet, but you were getting dangerously close to kicking his pert ass out of your shop.

As if sensing that he’s made an error, he quickly clears his throat. “All I’m saying is that I recognize that I’m dealing with a new and improved you.” He moves to reach for you again before apparently thinking better of it.

“But forgive me if I have a hard time thinking of you as anything but the doe-eyed freshman who wrote poetry behind the bleachers. That is, when she wasn’t busy taking home top prize at the state fair’s pie baking contest year after year.” Mason offers you his own award winning smile for good measure, highlighting the dimple on his left cheek.

Suddenly, the room feels a little too hot for your comfort. You didn’t like feeling this unsettled. These days the only man who was allowed to get under your skin was your handsome, overbearing bounty hunter.

It was a right that he’d earned, whether you liked it or not. And there were honestly times when you damn well didn’t. But you’d also be lying if you said that you weren’t learning to live with it.

“I could sure go for a slice of your famous brambleberry pie right about now.” Mason keeps his deep voice low and even as he takes a tentative step around the side of your cash register, which is the only thing currently separating the two of you. “But I’d be willing to settle for some cherry pie and a scoop of homemade vanilla bean ice cream over at Holtman’s Diner on West 5th if you’d be open to join me.”

“So I can watch you stuff your face with pie while I nibble on a depressing fruit salad from a can like a sad little rabbit?” You scoff. “Pass.”

Mason huffs out an annoyed breath, his brows drawing together. “You were the one who always complained about shit going to your hips. Meanwhile, I was just doing my part to be supportive. Isn’t that what any good man is supposed to do for his woman?”

Apparently you weren’t the only one experiencing a few ruffled feathers here. Fantastic.

“I’m not sure it’s allowed to fall under the category of being supportive –” you respond, complete with appropriate air quotes “– if you’re also the one constantly pointing it out.”

“We were kids, baby!” His hands fly to his waist so that he’s now standing akimbo. “Just a couple of stupid kids worried about stupid shit like football practice and prom pictures. I felt like I was walking around with the world on my shoulders back then. It wasn’t as easy for me as everybody liked to think.” He shifts his weight, resting his hip against the cashwrap. “Nobody understood the pressures of growing up as a Prescott. Nobody even tried…”

‘Oh yeah?’ Your internal voice all but screams. ‘Try being one of only five black kids in your entire goddamned graduating class. But do you see me crying? Nope.’

At any rate, you didn’t sign up for this month’s Prescott Pity Party. So you were about to politely request that he miss you with that bullshit.

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to carry so much alone, Mace. I really am.” You look down at your feet as you try to drum up a way to usher him out the door without touching him. But the next thing you know, he’s suddenly standing directly in front of you.

“Except for you.” He reaches out to clutch at your biceps, his big hands smoothing up and down your bare arms. “You saw past the spoiled little rich kid act when no one else did. And I didn’t appreciate you like I should have.”

Your heart speeds up as you take notice of the way his eyes darken. He’s so close that you can see the light smattering of freckles dotting the bridge of his slightly crooked nose. If memory served, he’d broken it during a heated football game.

One where he claimed an opposing player made several crude comments about your body and choice of skirt. At the time you’d considered him a hero. But now…

Now you saw him for what he was. Another run-of-the-mill Prescott pretty boy. All style and no substance. That was the crux of it.

Right?

“Why are you doing this?” Your question comes out weaker than you’d like, but at least it doesn’t waver.

“Because I want you to have dinner with me tonight. For old times’ sake.” His determined gaze bores into your own as all of the oxygen slowly dissipates from the room. “Please, Cupcake?”

Just then, you hear the chiming of the door, signaling the arrival of yet another customer. Spell broken, you take a fortifying step back – needing to put some distance between you and the town’s golden boy.

“Am I interrupting something?” The sound of a familiar voice has your already volatile emotions spiraling in the complete opposite direction as a sense of relief blooms in your chest.

Saved by the damn bell. Thank the Lord.

“Yeah.” Mason snaps at the same time you throw out a swift “nope”.

“Bird?”

Of course your gruff bounty hunter would defer to you on this one – for which you were grateful. You turn your attention to him, not missing the tick in his chiseled jaw.

Now that you saw them together, Ari appeared to have a good inch in height on your former lover. Aside from that, their builds were pretty similar. Instead it was the glaring difference in their personalities that managed to separate one from the other.

“It’s fine, Ari.”

“Bird?” Mason’s lip curls in an almost sneer as his hands drop to his sides. “Is that what you go by now? It’s…cute.” He tacks on the last part when you respond with a simple shrug.

If you were being honest, you didn’t much care how he felt or not. You just wanted him gone so that you could actually breathe again.

“Ari, huh?” He turns to give your man his full attention as realization finally dawns. “You must be that rent-a-cop my father was telling me about. Said you blew into town looking for Martin Westbrook’s sorry ass.”

“Not quite, pal. But you’re almost there.” Ari spares a bored glance in the direction of his would-be rival. But he doesn’t say anything. You knew without him telling you that he was busy assessing the situation. It was something he had a habit of doing anywhere he went.

Especially when found himself face-to-face with a dick like Mason Prescott.

“Well, you won’t find him here, buddy.” Your ex gives him a dismissive nod. “So why don’t you see yourself out? The lady and I were just in the middle of catching up before you took it upon yourself to interrupt.”

An uncomfortable silence ensues as both men stare each other down, each refusing to blink. The tension grows thicker with each passing moment. And it remains that way until you move to step between them.

“Mace is an old friend who stopped by for a chat.” You tell Ari, jamming your nervous hands in your pockets. “But we were just wrapping up so I could get back to doing inventory.”

It was a lie. And you recognized that Ari was someone who deserved a better, more in-depth explanation than the basic one that you just gave him. But for now it would simply have to do. At least until you got your bearings.

“But what about that pie?” Mason pouts, obviously upset by the prospect of you kicking him out. “Don’t leave me to eat alone, Cupcake.”

“Cupcake? Wow.” Ari scoffs under his breath, not bothering to his disapproval.

“Old friend, old nickname.” You hiss, somehow feeling even more self-conscious than you already did. “Now that we’ve established all that, I think it’s best if you two peaches get a move-on. I’ve got a busy day ahead of me.”

Needing some space, you attempt to shoo them out the door. But unfortunately, you might as well have better luck trying to herd a couple of cats. Lucky you.

“What about lunch?” Your man growls. Apparently he didn’t take too kindly to being thrown out either.

“Too busy. Gotta cancel. Sorry you came out all this way, but these books aren’t gonna stock themselves so…” You throw your arms in the air. “It is what it is.”

Instead of accepting his dismissal, Ari takes a step towards you. He doesn’t stop until he’s in front of you, his body eclipsing your smaller frame and effectively blocking you from Mason’s view.

“Did you eat today, baby?” He asks as one big hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, giving you an affectionate squeeze. Some of the stiffness in his shoulders eases when you give him a little nod. “Good. What’d you have?”

“A piece of toast and a hard boiled egg.”

“Alright.” Warmth pools in your belly when your sweet bounty hunter hands over a plastic bag filled with what feels suspiciously like a sandwich and chips. “It’s a grilled chicken caesar wrap. Best they had since you said you don’t like that chipotle spread. Also got you some sea salt and vinegar chips, some cuke and onion salad, and a cookie.”

Christ. This man was simply too good for you. Moments like these only served to remind you that you truly didn’t deserve him.

“Thank you.” You murmur once you finally manage to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“I’m gonna need you to eat every last bite for me.” He tells you, his intoxicating blue eyes dropping to your lips. “So that I can fully enjoy taking a bite out of you later.” Thankfully, he's thoughtful enough to whisper the last bit. Making it clear that it was for your ears only.

“Okay, Ari.”

Nodding, he shifts his attention back to an increasingly annoyed Mason. But while there’s no way he could’ve missed the moment you shared with Ari just now, he chooses to stew in silence. Which is absolutely fine by you.

“Call me when you lock up.” You know that Ari’s words are meant for you even though his focus remains entirely on the other man taking up space in your tiny lobby.

“I’ll see you around, Cupcake.” Mason smiles, but this time you notice that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I can’t wait to find out if you’re still as sweet as I remember.” He finishes with a knowing wink.

With that, he turns and strides out of the shop, not even bothering to hold the door for Ari. But your man doesn’t seem to mind. Instead he makes a show of shouldering through it with minimal effort.

As soon as it swings shut you hit the lock and flip the sign. And then you duck in the corner, watching as the two men exchange what you can only assume to be a few choice words right there in your parking lot.

And while you can’t make out what they’re saying, you’re convinced that it’s anything but friendly – what with them being practically nose to nose.

You stay in your spot until Ari and Mason finish their conversation. And it’s only once they’ve climbed in their respective cars and driven away that you finally slink off to the back room to lick your wounds and figure out your next move.

Fuck! You had the sinking feeling that things were about to get complicated fast. Opening the fridge, you toss your lunch inside before slamming it shut so that you can snag a homemade strawberry and cream popsicle from the freezer.

As you sit down, you feel your phone buzz in your back pocket. You fish it out, surprised to see that you’ve got a text from Ari that reads:

“Mace seems like a real stand-up guy.”

“No shit, Beast.” Rolling your eyes, you place the device facedown on a nearby table before nibbling on your sweet and creamy treat. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

END

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itsdingdong · 5 months

Text

Come Home To Me -Drabble

Pairing: Jungkook x girlfriend!reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Suggestive, Profanity

Word Count:: 1990

A.N: I didn’t specify her occupation. She’s a career woman. Unedited, I might come back to it, wrote it on a whim.

Song: come home to me by Justin Bieber

"I'm home," your boyfriend announces his arrival. It's your last night together before he heads off to serve in the military. It's been a rough few weeks for both of you, especially for him. You know he's not ready to leave, especially at the peak of his career. Not only that, but his career consumed so much time that spending moments with loved ones became a rare luxury. He never had separation anxiety, yet here he is, struggling to leave everything behind for two years.

He left for the gym a little over an hour ago. Deep down, both of you knew he'd rather have stayed and done nothing and everything with you. Sadly, the uneasiness became overwhelming, visibly making him look shaky and pale. You suggested he go out and blow off some steam, and he left to try that.

"I'm gonna take a shower. I'm so sweaty."

"Yeah, okay."

And there's tension. You know it's not personal, but it makes you nervous anyway. You're undeniably going to miss him a lot. No, you don't show it to him because he's already in a vulnerable state. He's been trying to make the best of his solo era before he's rid of one of the craziest highs one gets – fame. You know he's not ready to leave all that behind. How you see it is that it's a learning curve and a point in his life for him to grow and mature. That's what the military does to boys. They take a leap into becoming a man. That's one of the pros you can see. You're as obliged to wait as he is to go, so you stopped whining about it as soon as you found out about the enlistment. He needs your support more than ever, so that's what you're giving him, period. Maybe it was one of the things that gave girlfriends the wife material quality – who knows?

With both of your hectic schedules, it was hard enough to spend much quality time together. When you did, it was the utmost best. Those times made the whole deal worth it. Two tired people in need of love and compassion met in an unusual place and easily fell in love as literal soulmates. Soulmates with little to no time to spend. You just wanted to support him as much as you could. It wasn't like you were never going to see him during the service time, but you'd very much rather have him come home to you, even if it's just to spend the night in bed, sleeping.

Your chest has been squeezed tight since a couple of days back. You watched the V-Live he'd done while you were away, and you weren't happy about it. People wouldn't leave him alone with their uncalled-for negativity when he was extremely generous with his limited time to make people who supported him happy. From stans accusing him of abandoning Bam, his baby, to them following him around – which he got a scolding from you for showing his address.

He's a strong man, one of the toughest you've met. And he manages to stay kind, humble, and polite. Now, shit like this doesn't faze him usually, but nowadays, you're in awe to see how clueless and selfish people could be. They may not see it, but he gets hurt, and they are not the ones to pick up the pieces. And with that mindset, they wouldn't have been able to even if they tried. Despite everything, he did a final live to fulfill his promise. That alone shows how huge his heart is and how much he cares.

When done showering and changing into his sweats, Jungkook quietly joins you in the living room, a towel in his hand, drying up his shaved head. A small smile forms on your lips just by the sight of him. Damn, you're so in love with this man.

"Hey," he says as he drops himself down next to you on the couch.

"Hey," you say softly. His eyes look into yours for a moment, then they drop to the ground. He still looks sad, all puffy from crying too. "Come here. Please." He pats his chest, signaling you to hug him. Seriously, you don't need to be told twice. When you wrap your arms around his neck, he leans back, making you lie on top of him. You stay like that for a minute. Then 2. Then 10. Until you both fall asleep. It's a 20-minute nap before you feel him shuffle under you. You're so comfortable and peaceful in your current position to move or open your eyes; you just stay like that.

"I will miss you so much." The words come out as a shaky whisper. "I really don't want to go." His arms tighten around your figure. You don't want him to go either. It's on the list of things not to say to him.

"I know. I will miss you too, but I promise it'll pass in the blink of an eye."

He shakes his head before resting it on yours. All you want to do is cheer him up and give him all the hope you can for the following 18 months. To make him feel and know that everything will be okay. He's a mess, and you just want to rid him of all the upsetting emotions he's feeling right now. If only you could take his pain and stress away.

"We will all be waiting for you. I will visit you whenever I can. And I'll see you when you're home." If I'm here. You don't add that detail either. It's possible to miss him on his free days depending on your schedule, but he knows that already, and it's not worth mentioning at this very moment.

"I'll go see Bam as much as I can. I'll take photos of him. I know they will too. I'll make sure to visit your parents too." You finally raise yourself to look at his beautiful eyes. The well of tears brimming in them completely shatters your heart.

"I love you." He croaks, trying really hard to keep himself from breaking down. Though you wish he would if he needed to, but you wait and reply, "I love you more."

"That's impossible." He sighs into your neck, making you shiver slightly.

"Agree to love equally then?" You suggest playfully.

"Deal."

There's a brief comfortable silence after that. Your mind quiets down as you enjoy his warmth and strong arms around you. Eyes closed, you listen to his heartbeats as well as his breathing. Thankful to have him.

"Do you think I'll be forgotten when I'm gone? 2 years isn't a short time." He breaks the silence. His words slightly anger you because you know that it's impossible and you really hate it when he gets insecure like that when he has absolutely no reason to. But you know, no matter what, his worries are valid, always.

"Of course not. Who could forget such a gorgeous, talented, wonderful, funny, and caring man like you? I couldn't. Even if you weren't mine, you'd have definitely left an impact. And obviously you did because, like, ARMY, you know? Besides, you're really hot, if I do say so myself. Who could forget this face?" He smiles at your encouraging words as they warm his heart.

"I don't think I'm hot right now."

“Oh baby, how wrong you are. You look so hot even if you don’t feel like it.”

“I think I’m going to cry.”

“Sure, I’ll cry with you.”

“What? No, don’t cry. I’ll cry even more.”

“It’s okay to cry. I know you’re struggling, I’m here for you baby. I would prefer if you weren’t in such distress but if you are, let’s go through it. Together.”

Your words move him. He knows he’s loved. By millions and by the people he cares for the most. You? You’re different. You love him so honestly and care for him thoroughly, he can’t help but to feel extra grateful for your existence. He’s usually a grateful person but you make him thank whoever out there that’s hearing him a little more often. He knows you’re the one he’ll spend what’s left of his lifetime with. He’d marry you in a beat if it weren’t for your no marriage till babies rule. Which he’s okay with. But still, you just have to say the word and he’ll take you to the courthouse. You come second to his mother in terms of peace and comfort he can find in one but he’s okay with you switching spots when the time comes. You’re the safest thing that’s ever happened to him in such a dangerous world.

“You will wait for me, right? 2 years is a long time. What if you met someone?” You appreciate his honesty. Him being vocal about his fears. You appreciate that he doesn’t hide from you. All you wish is for those fears to vanish. There’s no way you’re leaving him. Ever.

“I will wait for you as long as you want me to.”

“I will always want you to.”

“Good. We have a deal then.”

“It’s almost 11, shall we go to bed? It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.” You suggest. He - technically you too - will have to wake up early. His parents were coming from Busan early in the morning to send him off.

“I’m not sleepy. Fuck, how am I going to fix my sleep routine, it’s seriously messed up.”

“I can’t think of a better place than the military for it.”

He pauses then laughs as it finally dawns on him. “How come I didn’t think of that?”

“You’re so out of it Jay Kay.”

“Mm, yeah. But I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

“Yup. Definitely. Also, we don’t have to sleep just yet.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I thought we’d cuddle a little.”

It’s probably what you’re going to miss the most in his absence at home: his cuddles,

“And a one last ‘see ya’ fuck before I leave?” Wiggling his eyebrows, he looks at you with a glint of mischief and lust in his doe eyes.

Maybe that too. God, he seriously has no shame… he was crying just now this little shit.

To that, you can’t help but to tease, “When you put it like that, I guess I’ll pass.”

“Babyy, please. You got me all excited and stuff.”

He’s cute. A cute guy that makes you smile. Always. Even now you are smiling.

His pouty lips look so plump and kissable. You’re so used to seeing the ring there, that it feels weird now that it’s gone. “It’s a good luck, ‘I love you’ and a please be well fuck.”

“Mm yes, talk dirty to me.”

But you don’t do that tonight when your bodies are wrapped under the sheets. Instead, you just affirm and make love to him like you want to make sure he feels all the love you want to give. Maybe for the first time in weeks, he falls into a serene sleep, snuggled into your chest.

“It’s time to go.” You hear someone yell. Time does fly whenever you wish it doesn’t. But it still does fly when you wish it does. You just need to allow it. Your heart squeezes a little but you try to breathe through it. He’ll be okay.

“Take care of yourself. Don’t get cold. Call me whenever you can.”

“I will do all that. I promise. I love you.”

“I love you. I’ll wait for you to come home to me.”

“I’ll come running, baby. Trust me.” He brings you in for a hug and gives you the quickest kiss allowed before turning away to say his goodbyes to his family.

You can’t wait for him to return but as he’s away, you wish him the best and in your heart pray that everything will be okay.

#jungkook #jungkook angst #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook au #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fic #bts imagines #bts #btsoneshot #bts fluff #bts x reader #jungkook fluff

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mrswint3rs · 3 months

Note

Can you do a Zeke one?

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 ᯐ

pairings- Professor! Zeke x Fem! Reader

a/n- i love this man with all my heart // not proofreading bc if i do i’ll cringe and delete the whole thing

cw- Teacher x Student relations, fantasizing, some mentions of guilt, public masturbation, age gap (reader is early 20s / Zeke is mid 40s), unprotected sex, use of praise as always ❦

➽────── ──────

In all his years of teaching, he’d never had a student quite like you. Never had he even considered looking at one of his students as anything more. Then you came along. Or rather, he did.

It was good to start a clean slate every now and then, to get a chance at doing something new. So he decided to take a sabbatical leave, temporarily parting from his home country.

It wasn’t the first time he had traveled to the states, but teaching there was a different story.

Seemed phyc was a more common course to take for a GPA raise rather than it was important. Most students didn’t take his teachings all that seriously, handing in the most atrocious attempts at an essay.

No one engaged in his lectures, even when he made an effort to make them more interesting and interactive. They all just lifelessly sat through each day, like his words went in one ear and right out the other.

Only you seemed to be interested in actually learning, laughed at his dry humored jokes when none of your other peers did. It was his only motivation to get through each day. He considered going back to his roots. It all felt sort of pointless, like he wasn’t getting through to anyone.

Sure his lessons and theories were a little old fashioned and boring at times, but he didn’t think he was all that bad. It was what he worked so hard through his youth for. He was pretty confident in all his knowledge and wanted nothing more than to provide his insight which you finally gave him a chance at.

You never skipped class, always turned in assignments on time, and you actually participated. Every question you’d be the first to raise your hand, most times you’d be the only one to do so. You even went out of your way to speak with him after class ended, either questions about the lecture or just to talk to him in general.

He knew he shouldn’t favor his students, but really he couldn’t help it.

You put so much effort into studying, and it showed in all your test results. Exams were a breeze for you because you actually heard him when he spoke. Always front row.

He looked forward to seeing you there, probably more than he should. And he absolutely despised seeing you talking to your other teachers. He could only hope he was your favorite.

It was that jealous build up that made him realize just how much you started to cloud his thoughts.

He started to favor you so much he could hardly see your faults. Any mistakes on your papers, he’d ignore, just to see you beam at his approval when it was handed back. Not that he needed any excuse to praise you, you were without a doubt at the top of your class even without his foul play.

In no way did you try to provoke him. You were a humble girl, just trying to get your credits. Yet he couldn’t help but wish it was something more than that.

The way you looked at him, as if waiting for something. He couldn’t resist the feeling of wanting you. And that want was gradually shifting into a need. No woman in his age group ever got him that needy. Only you and your possibly yearning gaze.

He grips his cock, stroking to the thought of you like a mad man after class. Nobody came into his office after lunch hours anyway.

He cusps his freehand over his mouth to silence his pathetic groaning as he fucks into his other one, closing his eyes tight and imagining you at the front of his class. Just sitting and listening to him so intently. You were so innocently enticing.

Just the thought of you doing something so normal was enough to make him lose himself.

It was so morally wrong and he knew that deep down. It only made it feel more thrilling, making him shoot spurts all over the underside of his desk.

God, he was a sick man. Completely thinking with his dick as if he was a teenaged boy again. He felt like he needed to be baptized or something.

But even with the aftermath guilt, his need for you was unwavering. He just didn’t know how to get closer to you. You probably didn’t see him that way. He didn’t think he fit the role of the ‘sexy professor’ that all the girls fawned over. He was just a dorky middle aged man trying to be what his parents wanted him to be. It was more than likely that you only saw him for what he was.

It was normal to have at least one teachers pet. You just tried harder than most to be successful. If you want something, you have to earn it.

You knew that all too well. Which was the real reason behind your commitment to his class.

Sure, you needed those credits and a straight grade, but those weren’t your main concerns. The second you stepped foot in that room and laid eyes on him, he became the whole focus point. He was beautiful and not in a self absorbed way, which was so rare. It was like he didn’t even realize how appealing he was, and you wanted nothing more than to show him.

Anyone could take notice of how awkward his lectures were. When he tried to interact and joke around and they were all so blandly silent. You felt bad.

Soon, you started putting yourself in front of him as much as you possibly could, becoming one of the only ones to make an effort to engage with the poor man. It was clear he was trying his best.

And he was an excellent instructor. You weren’t all brains, and his lectures made more sense than any of the previous. To you, everything he taught just clicked. You were fascinated by his witt, even his profound opinions. It was the only class you didn’t feel obligated to attend.

At first he was just eye candy. But over time you grew to actually appreciate his unique personality as well. He wore his heart on his sleeve more than he probably realized. You could read him like an open book. And it was especially clear how he felt in the way he looked at you, and that lopsided greeting smile when you looked back.

He seemed so happy every time you’d approach him after class. It was clear he was lonely. No one appreciated him the way you did, and you couldn’t understand why. It was beyond pity. You just wanted to see those blue-grey eyes light up, and for his smile to actually reach them.

And him in general.

You could hardly sit still at the sound of his voice going on about the ‘hierarchy of needs’. Well he was leaving out a major one.

You clench your thighs together tighly, shifting like you’re uncomfortable just for the friction from the seem in the crotch of your jeans, gnawing on your inner cheek like a dog with a bone. The last thing you wanted was to let a moan slip in front of everyone. Even you realize how desperate you were behaving. The man was just talking for fucks sake.

It was always so easy for you to take it in before, but now you’re not following what he’s teaching at all, only focusing on the rasp undertone of his voice. Imagining how it’d sound if he was buried deep inside you.

You orgasm so easily, making a mess inside your pants. You just hoped no one took notice of your writhing, and that he wasn’t looking at the way your eyes rolled back as you came so hard to the thought of him. Though a part of you wanted him to catch on.

Eventually your lack of ability to pay attention caught up to you. Your grades started to slip, which shocked him since you were doing so well before. He couldn’t help but feel concerned and he wanted to know the cause of the change. Which led you to being called into his office, with the door and blinds shut for privacy.

Where you always deep down aspired to be. Just preferably not for this reason. You never wanted to disappoint him.

“Have a seat wherever you’re comfortable,” he says, pulling up one of your recent works.

You pull out the chair in front of his desk, plopping down and looking everywhere but at him. Blatantly obvious you’re aware of the reason you were summoned.

“Forgive me for being vague in my email… I just wanted to check on you.” he says. “Lately you’ve been…sort of out of it. I just want to be sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“No need to be concerned about me, Professor Yeager.” you immediately chime in. “I’ll pick up the slack.”

“I’m not as much worried about your grades as I am about you. You’re a very talented girl. I’d hate to see you struggle, especially on my account.”

“It’s not your fault,” yes it is. “You’re one of the greatest teachers i’ve ever had.”

And that’s one of the sweetest things he’s ever heard. He struggles to keep up his professional facade as those words come out of your mouth. Something he had wanted to receive throughout his whole career.

“Is that so?” he presses on. “Why is that? I fear i’m nothing short of the average.”

You breathe out, almost frustrated by his self undermining. “You’re anything but average, professor. In all aspects.”

You couldn’t be more obvious. The only way you were getting anywhere with him was by being flat out bold. Even if he turned you down, you couldn’t miss out on the chance to reveal yourself. It was nearing the end of his sabbatical leave. You knew he would only be there for one semester.

“In…all aspects?”

You wanted to curl up and die. You knew he was a bit of a loser, but thought surely he could take a hint. He had to have had a woman in his life at some point.

Instead of further delving into the details of feelings, you shoot your shot, leaning in to take his lips. No way to misinterpret that.

It finally clicks with him then. You wanted him all the same, came straight to him.

Next thing you know, you’re flat on your stomach, face smooshed against the smooth wood of his desk with his cock jabbing in and out of your drenched cunt. He didn’t have to restrain himself any longer, finally you were right where he wanted you to be. All those days of pumping into his hand were nothing compared to actually having you. Just as tight and eager as he imagined. He knew you were innocent on the outside, but nobody is ever fully innocent on the inside.

“Such a pretty girl,” he moans. “I’ve waited so long to have you like this.”

He hits that spot repeatedly, making you gasp for breaths. “s’ too good…” you mewl, your pussy practically swallowing him up whole.

“Thank you for being such a wonderful student,” he groans, hips stuttering as he feels you tighten around his length. “Taking me so damn good…”

“I’m so proud of you for how far you’ve come.” he adds, and you turn into a puddle. “All for me,”

He continues to rut into you, neither of you caring about the consequences. Your moans are so angelic to him. He wishes he could watch your face, look into your eyes while he fucks you. He just wants you to need him.

“Gonna cum, Professor!” you warn with a whine, only urging him to pick up the pace. He hooks his arm underneath you, rapidly rubbing your puffy clit to break you further.

“That’s it…” he pants. “Cum with me. All over my cock.”

“ Give it to me, please.”

You clamp down as you finally burst. The feeling takes you whole. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out. You feel your body tingling from head to toe as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release.

You’re put down to a breathless, whiny mess, unable to even see straight or think about anything but your teacher’s cock, stuffing you oh so full of his cum with no regard.

He keeps going until it’s overstimulating him. He didn’t want to part from you. Ever. But as it got to be too much, he forces himself to pull out, releasing a pitiful whimper at the separation.

But you looked so beautiful, sprawled out and twitching on his desk. He couldn’t control the hardening of his cock again. He needed a break, though he didn’t know how long he could last without your warmth again. He needed to have all of you for himself. He’d never be satisfied otherwise.

“Can you take me again?” he asks, not wanting to tire you out entirely. You still had class after this.

You babble out repetitive pleads for more in response and he has to grip his length to calm the throbbing. He couldn’t wait, even for five minutes. You had him completely addicted at the first taste.

“That’s my girl.”

mlist

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queenshelby · 3 months

Text

An Illicit Affair

Part Ten: The Movies

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Later that day, just as you were laying on your bed and tried to read a book, Lucy walked into your shared room and was surprised to see you.

"Y/N, fuck what are you doing here?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I was just..." you hesitated, glancing briefly at Lucy before staring at the floor nervously. "Reading," you finished lamely, clutching the book you were supposedly reading tightly in your hands.

"I can see that, but why are you here?" she wanted to know. "I would have thought that you were hanging out with you know who tonight," she said quietly seeing that the dorm rooms at the university had rather thin walls.

"Nope, he changed his mind about us," you answered honestly, your voice trailing off in embarrassment. "I guess his consciousness got the better of him after all," you explained with a saddened voice, causing Lucy to purse her lips.

"Really? Why the sudden change?" she asked, her eyebrows raised, skepticism written all over her face. Her voice dripped with disbelief and concern.

"I don't know. I guess he feels guilty, I suppose," you mumbled, averting your gaze, unwilling to delve deeper into the issue at hand. You clutched the book tighter, a protective shield guarding your vulnerable emotions.

Lucy studied you closely, squinting at you as if scrutinizing your every detail.

"Look, I'm going to level with you," she began, her voice suddenly stern. "I think that him coming to his senses may be for the best. Not only is he your ex-boyfriend's dad, he is also married, right?" Lucy stated, her voice laced with caution.

"Yeah, but..." you trailed off, unsure how to respond. You appreciated Lucy's understanding and concern, but there was something unspoken lingering between you, something unsettling.

"It doesn't matter," you eventually muttered, deflecting her question. "I just need to clear my head now and forget about him," you insisted, fidgeting with the book.

"You do and, Y/N, just think about it, even if he wasn't married and was readily available to you, he would be way too old for you and, if anyone was to ever find out about your little affair, then the press would have a field day with it," Lucy said, her tone softening. "His career would suffer and your prospects of permanent employment at the hospital would be hindered as well," she explained.

Her words resonated in your mind, striking a chord deep within you. You had never considered the consequences of your actions on your professional life.

"I know, Lu," you sighed, closing the book and tossing it aside. "But I actually really enjoyed myself with him, you know?" you ventured, your voice quivering slightly with uncertainty. "I mean, it wasn't just the sex that was incredible. It's everything. We could talk for hours about anything. He is smart, humble and very attentive. Plus, he is incredibly attractive and gentle as well. Unlike me, he is super creative and funny too," you explained just before Lucy interrupted you.

"And yet, you need to forget about him because, frankly put, he will never leave his wife for you," Lucy reasoned, crossing her arms over her chest. "And I highly doubt that he would jeopardize his career and reputation over an extramarital affair with a younger woman who happened to date his son in the past," she added grimly. "It's wrong on all levels, Y/N and I know that you know that," Lucy stressed, her eyes pleading with you to understand where she was coming from.

The truth of her words stung you, forcing you to confront the harsh realities of your situation. You swallowed, fighting back tears that threatened to fall.

"Yes, I do know that it's wrong," you finally conceded, your voice cracking. "It's not worth risking my future or his for something that can never amount to anything substantial," you admitted, and Lucy nodded, relief washing over her features.

"Exactly, Y/N," she praised, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Now, I guess you don't really want to come to the movies with us tonight, seeing that we are going to watch Oppenheimer, right?" Lucy continued, her voice tinged with reluctance, understanding very well that watching Cillian on the big screen was too difficult for you right now.

"Actually, why not. The bloody advertisements are everywhere anyway. I see his face every day around town, and everyone is talking about the movie, so I may just as well watch it," you replied, swallowing a lump in your throat, receiving a warm smile from her as a reward.

"That's the spirit, Y/N," Lucy cheered, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I am glad you are coming and guess who else will be there?" she asks casually, grinning mischievously.

"Who?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

"James," she replies triumphantly. "The cardiologist you have been flirting with at work before you hooked up with Max's dad," Lucy explained excitedly, grinning broadly.

"Really?" you ask, feigning surprise. "You noticed that?" you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"Well, I do pay attention sometimes," Lucy retorted, rolling her eyes teasingly. "Besides, James is cute and smart. Lucas invited him but I think that you might actually enjoy his company," she winked, nudging you with her elbow.

"Alright, alright," you chuckled, relenting before looking for some clothes to wear but, as you rifled through your closet, searching for something comfortable to wear to the movies, your thoughts drifted back to Cillian.

You weren't sure whether you should be grateful for his abrupt departure or resentful for leaving you high and dry, so quickly. Regardless, his memory lingered, and the ghost of his touch still burned on your skin like a lingering kiss.

Eventually though, you found a pair of jeans and a loose shirt, not putting too much effort into your appearance. Realisticially, you were done with men for now and even James was slightly too old for you. Yet, you liked being in his presence and it was not as if you could deny the chemistry between you two at work.

He was certainly interested in getting to know you some more and this became even more evident when you entered the cinema later that evening, taking your seat in between him and your friend Lucy.

"So, Y/N," he began, his voice warm and inviting. "Tell me more about you," he requested politely, his eyes shining eagerly before the adds started rolling in.

"What do you want to know?" you wondered aloud, contemplating your response.

"Anything," he assured you, leaning towards you slightly. "What do you do when you aren't studying or working?" he asked, growing increasingly curious about you.

"I like to read, or listen to music," you responded, thinking for a moment. "I also like to go for walks, especially in nature. Do you enjoy hiking?" you asked James, turning your head sideways to glance at him.

"Not really," he shook his head, smiling sheepishly. "I am more of a city person and, as you know, I work a lot so I rarely get any free time to explore the great outdoors."

"I see," you said, nodding. "Well, if you ever want to try it, I am game. Maybe you can learn a thing or two from me," you teased, laughing lightly.

"Definitely," he smiled, patting his chest proudly. "I would appreciate that," he said. "Maybe we could take my BMW, drive down the coast and have a picnic or something," he smiled just before the theatre darkened and the movie previews came on.

"Maybe," you nodded before you took a deep breath, settling into your seat and gripping the armrests tightly.

Concentrating on the captivating visuals and engaging sound effects, you tried to push Cillian out of your mind which, of course, was proving to be a challenge as the familiar contours of his face kept appearing before your eyes on screen.

As the film progressed, you found yourself uncomfortably entranced by this man again and, soon enough, James noticed your discomfort especially during Cillian's intimate scenes with Florence Pugh.

However, you remained adamant to focus on the present and, despite the occasional flashbacks of your fleeting intimacy with Cillian, you desperately attempted to compartmentalize these thoughts.

Somehow, you got through the entire movie and, when the lights came back on, the credits were already rolling, indicating that the film had ended.

"Great movie," James commented, turning to look at you. "What did you think?" he asked you, smiling brightly.

"Yeah," you nodded, returning his smile awkwardly. "It definitely had its moments," you swallowed harshly while hearing some women behind you talking about Cillian's captivating performance, causing even James to roll his eyes and chuckle.

"You used to date his son, didn't you?" he asked while listening to the group behind him, now drooling over Cillian's captivating eyes and aura.

"Whose son?" you questioned, shooting James a puzzled look.

"Cillian's son," he chuckled. "You know, the lead actor? Cillian Murphy?" he said sarcastically, seeing that you did not really pay much attention to his question.

"Uhm, yeah," you acknowledged, your voice barely above a whisper. "It was a long time ago though," you added, swallowing hard, realizing that sharing this information made you feel slightly awkward.

"Did you ever get to meet his dad?" James asked, his tone hinting at a curious undertone.

"Yeah, a few times," you replied, fiddling with your fingers nervously. "Why do you ask?" you queried, lifting your gaze to meet his.

"Oh, I was just wondering since I met him once when his son was in the ER, and he seems like a decent guy. Really quiet though," James shared, shrugging casually.

"He is quiet, I guess," you stammered without revealing your true feeling towards Cillian and the fact that you had been intimate with each other only recently.

"So, do you want to grab a drink?" James asked after a minute of awkward silence, gesturing towards the exit. "Or maybe we can head to my penthouse instead? I have a bottle of Moet in the fridge, and you should really see the views from my place. Absolutely incredible," he suggested, noticing the heaviness in your gaze.

The mention of heading home jolted you back to reality, and you blinked several times before offering a weak smile. "Uhm, maybe another night," you hesitated, running your fingers through your hair nervously. "I'm quite tired," you lied, your voice barely audible.

"Yeah, sure. Whenever works for you. Unless I am working, I will make sure to be available," James agreed, flashing a sympathetic smile as you walked with him and the rest of the group while images of Cillian's face danced across your memory, his sensual whispers reverberating in your eardrums like forbidden promises.

You tried to shake off the images, but they persisted, weaving themselves into the fabric of your mind.

As you walked alongside James, you stumbled over your feet, lost in the swirling kaleidoscope of memories.

Determined to break free from the chains of the past, you forced a smile and plunged into a torrent of meaningless chatter. The laughter that escaped your lips was hollow, devoid of genuine mirth. You needed a distraction, something to blot out the haunting visions of Cillian's presence and the intimacy you shared with him.

Eventually, you arrived at campus where James said goodbye to you and Lucy.

"Sleep tight, Y/N," he whispered affectionately, his eyes filled with warmth and concern. "I will see you tomorrow," he reassured you, reaching out to squeeze your hand softly.

You could only muster a weak smile in return, trying to hide the turmoil raging inside you.

"Thanks, James," you murmured, squeezing his hand gently before stepping into the dormitory.

Once inside, you breathed a sigh of relief, welcoming the solitude that engulfed you and Lucy knew to let you be and not to bring up James or Cillian again.

After all, you were exhausted and needed some peace to sort through your feelings.

You slipped off your shoes and collapsed onto your bed, your heart racing like a runaway train. Memories of Cillian's passionate embrace crept into your mind, refusing to relinquish their hold on you and it wasn't until a week after that you heard from him again. He was giving you a heads up that he had been asked by the UNESCO foundation to present several awards at a charity event you and some fellow students were organizing for Empathy Week and whilst you weren't exactly surprised by his announcement, it worried you to see him again in this capacity.

Unbeknownst to you however, leading up to that message, Cillian too was struggling to come to terms with his feelings for you as well.

He had spent sleepless nights thinking about you; the taste of your lips, the scent of your hair, the intoxicating energy between you.

Despite knowing full well that he was trapped in a loveless marriage, unable to escape, he couldn't resist the magnetic pull drawing him further into your orbit.

As such, he became withdrawn and distant, spending most of his downtime holed up in his study, his mind racing with thoughts of you. He would often pace up and down his basement, pondering the implications of pursuing a relationship with you. His conscience weighed heavily on his shoulders, burdened by guilt and the fear of destroying both of your lives.

His wife Danielle soon became aware of his distant demeanor and moodiness and, every time she tried to initiate intimacy, he pushed her away with excuses of exhaustion or stress. This caused tensions to flare up between them, resulting in bitter arguments about their dissolving marriage.

Despite his attempts to distance himself from you, Cillian couldn't help but think about you constantly. He replayed the memories of your passionate encounter in his mind, longing for the chance to experience it again. Every day, he would find reasons to seek you out on social media, hoping for a glimpse of you and when he received the invitation to speak at the Empathy Week charity event organized by you and some other students, his initial reaction was one of dread.

The prospect of facing you again brought forth a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - anticipation, lust, shame, fear. Yet, the opportunity to contribute to a cause that held significance for both of you provided a strange sense of comfort. With trepidation, he accepted the invitation, secretly hoping to see you again but when Danielle and Max also confirmed their attendance at the event, his mind started spinning with the complications that awaited him. He wrestled with his guilty conscience, torn between his love for his family and his irresistible attraction to you which he knew would cause problems that evening if he wasn't careful.

To be continued...

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine

156 notes · View notes

aphroditesmoon · 10 months

Note

Hi! I’m not sure if u do smut or not but I was wondering if u could do a Legolas smut with fem!human!reader, like a enemies to lovers kind of thing. Maybe hate sex? <3

too close

legolas greenleaf x reader

summary: legolas has his doubts about who you really are, but is that really why he can never meet your eyes with anything else but anger in himself.

warning: afab reader, nswf, smut 18+, etl, legolas being a jerk, probably bad description of mirkwood

a/n: soo sorry i took ages, I've been taking new meds, also i havent written smut for a while so im a bit dusty, hope u like it<3

○○○○○○

Summer is barely a real season under the protective courts of Mirkwood, you could barely feel the heat or see the sun through giantic starfall tree and at night, the chill through the strong winds gives a hint of winter in its air.

You loved it. Training at night feels easier when your not already sweating through your tits ten minutes in warm ups. And the quiet around you, save the crickets and owls hooting, gave you the solace you seeked for each existing day you lived through.

But despite finding everything well with want you asked for, the universe seems relentless with making sure you'll always be keeping your guard up and your annoyance up higher, with the ever consistent appearance of Prince Legolas Greenleaf.

He stands by the corner near an entrance to the castle, watchful of you while thinking he's quiet. His lack of trust in you makes him believe that you somehow lack in the specialties of elf abilities, like for example, your keen hearing.

"I could hear you for a mile away, prince." You also caught onto his snort, before his footsteps sounds louder. "How did you lnow it was me then?" He asks, less snobby than usual.

He must be drunk, you tell yourself.

"You have that pompous, all knowing kind of stride, it has its own beat when you walk." You expected him to roll his eyes like he usually do, belittling you like a child being reprimanded. But suprisingly he laughs. "That sounds a lot like you're projecting, after all, only pompous, all knowing arseholes are the ones who isolate themselves and train alone."

Ah, there it is. He's sobered up then.

"And what humble, kind enough of an elf, would waste his time stalking other people just to throw insults like a 7 year old?" You snapped.

If he had found your irritants amusing before, now his smile fades altogether, and he looks the same as when he's about to pull an arrow on an orc.

"The kind of an elf who's trying to protect his kingdom and father." You laughed honestly yet mockingly before dropping your sword altogether to look at him. "You think your doing the king a favor? His majesty has his own mind, he trusts me, so I'd suggest you drop your savior facade and trust him." He shook his head and looks away for a second, as if deep in thought. "My father doesn't trust anyone, let alone random rogue elves who comes out of nowhere."

You raised you brow at his bravery in speech. 'This random rogue elf is the reason your father is alive, if I had even a glimpse of malice in me, I wouldn't have done nothing but serve him well for the last 10 months." You say matter of factly.

And before he could argue again, you wave your hand at him annoyed, and turn your back at the prince. "I practise better when im alone, and now you've ruined my peace, if you don't have anything new or smart to say-"

"You are a witch." He speaks. You actually freezed for a moment, forehead frowned in confusion. "Excuse me?"He repeated his impossible words.

"Im a witch...because i saved your father's lives?" You ask him, slowly. He looks more frustrated then ever, as if you're the one patronizing him.

"No, you are a witch, because you have bewitched him." You could laugh if you didn't want to punch him. "And how have I bewitched him?" You almost yell. "I don't fucking know!" He yells first.

"My father has never trusted anyone, except for me, yet i see he'd put his life in your hands if he has to. And you know that, you know what you are doing. How you win his praise and trust when you fight, and when you put yourself over him, over the other shooters, martyring yourself."

Your mouth was wide open, your brows furowing, but no words escape you as he continues, inching closer with every word, untik you're both a step away from eachother.

"And you know exactly what you do to me." He was hovering over you, with a glare so intense you've never seen from the mirkwood prince. "I've done nothi-" He cuts you off when you've just gained enough control to speak. "You've bewitched me."

His breath was steady even in such anger, fanning your face gently as he inhales and exhales. "I don't trust you, and i shouldn't care too much of another fighter in our army, another stranger i shan't waste my time on. Yet one glimpse of you, and you're stuck in my head, like a memory i can't seem to forget."

he was silent after the last confession ends, and you have the stubborn urge to answer to him. "That sounds like a you problem, not mine." He gives a short bitter laugh, looking up to the sky for a second, as if praying to the stars for guidance. "What have you done to me, cruel enchantress."

The rage seemed to lessen in the glare he still holds at you, but something more hungry lays in his gaze. "I've done nothing. Im no witch." You answer, so over all of this cat and mouse game. "And if I was, I wouldn't waste my time on someone so frustrating like you, and your stupid perfect nose, going around acting like you're-" He cuts you off, closing the small space between the two of you with his lips.

It was persistent, the way his mouth pushed over yours, like a strong wave crashing over sands, forcing it to feel the same surge it's being held againts.

When your hands finally found its strength, you place them againts his chest, pushing him off, he startles and moves a step, eyes locking with yours.

His hands that were once on each sides of your face, falls down to his side, fingers flexing as if too empty now. "I hate you." He says. His eyes saying the opposite. Your mind repeats over and over of what he had done and you tell yourself that it can't get any worse or better than this, so you took a move yourself forward, standing on the ground he was on a second ago.

"Then why don't you show me how much."

You don't hesitate to pull his face towards yours, recreating the similar scene as before. His hands move to wrap around your waist, while yours tangle themselves in his untied long white hair.

You gasp when his tongue licks over your bottom lip, giving him what he wanted, your tongues clashes as you two continue kissing eachother like you're out of air. You don't flinch when he backs you up until your back meets the flat of a wall. His right hand starts to fliddle with the laces tying your leather top on. You help him take it off before your own fingers helps him take his breeches of while he moves his lips to your neck.

"I like you better with your hair down." You manage to gasp out while he's sucking on your neck. "And I like you better with your mouth shut." Legolas replies before his hands easily turns you around your face meets with the wall.

You barely hold on to the wall when his grip on your hips tighten, your own training tights pulled down before you felt him againts your back. You squirm and let yourself grind againts his hardness when one of his hands move to your front to squeeze your breasts, flicking your nipple, gently moving lower then from your chest to yoir stomach, grazing your scar filled abs until it gets lower to where you want him the most.

He's still squeezing your left hip while rubbing his hard cock againts your ass.

Finally as he sinks into you without notice, receiving a loud whimper from you, his hand over your hips move to grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back againts his chest. His right wandering fingers were still againts your front, rubbing circles on your thighs.

You're too speechless, feeling yourself filled up to the brim by him. He doesn't move at first, head laying low by your neck, hot breathing againts your cheek. You almost cry when he slowly pulls out, until he pushes himself in again, harder tham the first thrust.

He doesn't stop them, pushing into your hole repeatedly, his hands moving up from your thighs to your clit, rubbing over it with a pace that wanted to make you scream.

Legolas finally regains enough strength to start biting and sucking on your neck, marking you, while he doesn't stop pounding into your wet cunt.

The fullness of his cock and pressure of his fingers makes your cunt tighten againts him, he lets out a growl you've never heard if the elf prince before he bites down your sweet spot harshly, making you scream out his name. "Fucking hell." He groans out, fucking out all his pent up anger and tension over you.

.Your hands feels slippery againts the wall, gripping againts nothing while he takes you like a ragdoll, manhandling you take his cock over and over, watching you turn into a crying and moaning mess.

"Legolas, please- uh." You mewl out to him He hears you, pleased he is as he lets out a grin againts your neck. "Please what, my love?" He asks huskily. Love, thats a new one.

"Need to come-" You beg out to him. And Legolas, for all his false pretense of hostility before, could never say no to you.

He pushes your face againts the wall again, both of his palms now back to each side of your hip, tightening againts them as he plunges himself harder inside of you as you scream out his name, shameless of who could've heard them. Your nipples grazes againts the hard bumpy walls, oversensitive to everything now, you clench againts him so tightly that you could hear him curse out in elvish as he holds on to your bruised sides.

You feel tears brimming in your eyes as he continues fucking you while you explode all over him, your orgasm leaking out of your cunt, all over his leg. "Argh- im going to-" He doesn't finish his words as he finally cums after you, his hot cum leaking into your hole and then lower lines on your arse.

His head leans on your back, his breathing rapid and sweat glistens you both.

Legolas pulls you back by your breast, letting you rest on hus chest while the two of you try to regain some air. His fingers grazing the valley of your tits, head stuck on the side of your forehead. Once you've calmed down from your high, you tilt your head towards him, relishing his warm arms around you.

He leans forward, letting your forehead meets. You let out a small smile. "Now what?" Your voice gentler then expected. "Now-" He answers, voice hard. "-I'll take you to my chambers, and I'm fucking you again."

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