#Can I Open a Boutique in My Home ?
Text
WICKED DRAGON, LAY WASTE TO ME
⤀ synopsis: neuvillette has always been the gentlest of lovers—and so tonight you ask him not to hold back
⤀ cw: afab!reader, unprotected + rough sex, size kink, praise, overstimulation, breeding + creampie, marking, monsterfucking (dragon cock), cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, dumbification, mentions of mates, lil bit of dom!neuvi (??) but he is still sweet — mdni || ꒰ 8.4k wc ꒱
a/n: leviathan fic for leviathan neuv ( i’m not talking abt his constellation ) rbs + feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡
“Well? What do you think?” You come home, twirling before him in a gown, different than the one you had left in. The short hem at the front lifts mischievously, teasing just a peek of what lies underneath, while the longer, flouncing layers of skirts behind you, wrap flirtatiously around your legs. Neuvillette feels his throat run dry.
“Navia and Clorinde thought it was high time I changed my look, and you know I can’t ever say no to Chioriya Boutique.”
While he’s spent the better part of the night reviewing court documents in the parlor, you have been out with Navia and Clorinde, who he thinks have perhaps plotted to kill him. ‘Girls’ night,’ you had called it.
Draped in a vivid palette of the finest fabrics, decorated interchangeably with delicate metalwork and dainty ribbons, the blush on his pale skin is ever-present as he rakes his eyes up and down your body. The dark, patterned stockings, squeezing your thighs just enough, so that supple flesh spills obscenely over the top, the tight, whale-boned embrace of your corset, accentuating the curves of your waist, and pushing upwards the swell of your breasts…
A coy smile graces your features when you catch how his throat bobs in his silence. Giggling, you lean down, tracing the tip of your finger up the contours of his neck, skimming the gentle curve beneath his chin until you’ve tilted his gaze to yours. “Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, got nothing to say?”
How can he even think, much less find the right words to say, when the familiar scent of your perfume fills his head with indecent, lascivious thoughts? Everything about you is intoxicating, almost insidiously attractive, so would it suffice to say that he’d much rather see your pretty, new dress abandoned somewhere on the floor?
That first pulse of arousal translates into the first twitch of his cock, and oh how he wishes to kiss away your teasing little grin, but his lust-driven eyes are drawn to the miniscule movements of your bodice sleeve, predatory as he watches how it begins to shift, ever so slowly, off your shoulders.
“If you don’t like it, then perhaps…” You loosely roll your shoulder, letting the sleeve slide right off. “…you’d like to help me undress?”
That, he will gladly do. His hands fly to your waist, dragging you down into a straddle over his hips.
“Temptress,” he murmurs into the skin of your neck, distracting you with a featherlight kiss as his nimble fingers waste no time in undoing the delicate clasps of your bodice, leaving the heavy outer garment to tumble off your shoulders, abandoned in a pile at your waist.
Cool air licks at the now exposed skin, though it’s nothing compared to the warmth of his lips as he slots his mouth against yours, gently coaxing you open with a subtle swipe of his tongue. Your eyes flutter shut in honeyed complacence, allowing Neuvillette to kiss you slow and sweet; impassioned, ardent, each kiss an oath of love and longing and lust.
Desire blooms like romaritime flowers upon water, and you just know the tension underneath his placid exterior, is ready to burst. It’s prevalent in the way his muscles grow taut, tense beneath your every touch, fighting to hold himself back as your legs squeeze around his hips. Demonstrated, again, by how he pulls apart your corset, impatient and haphazard as he unlaces each cross, before tossing it to the ground, forgotten. And of course, only you can attest to the searing sensations of his escalating kisses—gentle wisps, once faint and docile, now wanton and heated with depravity.
You can already feel it in your chest, in your bones, in the wetness that’s begun to form between your legs; maybe it’s the anticipation, but despite the layers of clothing you’ve already shed, you find it even harder now to breathe, especially as he holds you so close, body pressed against yours, while he traces the bare curve of your neck with his lips.
For one with such a carefully crafted visage of elegance and poise, Neuvillette becomes sloppier as his restraint fades and lust seeps through the cracks. Something about you drives him wild, draws out the more carnal side of him that he so desperately seeks to hide away from you, who he could never even dream of hurting.
But perhaps he’s spent too much time amongst humans. Or perhaps he understands their nature more than he had initially believed, for he makes the most human mistake of all in letting his control slip—enough that his fangs graze upon your sensitive skin, sending a shiver that reaches all the way down to your core, eliciting a moan so mellifluous, he cannot help but utter a sigh of strained content as the undeniably sweet sound reaches his ears.
“If we don’t stop now, I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold back,” he mutters, tongue laving over the spot in apology. It doesn’t help that you voluntarily crane your neck, offering him even more access in your heated bliss. His fingers dig into your waist in a silent plea to still your rolling hips.
“So don’t,” you breathe. “Don’t hold back tonight.” Desperate to have him closer, you arch into him, the loose material of his shirt firmly clasped in your hands, deepening the kiss with a quick tug, a silent request for him to let go, but he immediately halts his movements, pulling away in hesitance.
Oh Neuvillette. Your sweet Neuvillette, who in spite of his stern exterior, is the gentlest of lovers—always so tender with you and steadfast in placing your pleasure before his. You know of his draconic origins, know that he holds back in fear of hurting you, but for all the times he’s pleased you to the fullest extent, you only wish to do the same for him.
Your hand reaches to cup his face and he leans into your familiar touch, steely eyes soft. “It’s okay, I trust you.”
It’s already difficult denying you anything on a normal basis, so how can he, now that you sit, straddled over him, determination colored in your bright eyes, and with nothing but flimsy cloth left between the two of you. His eyes linger at your chest, the scooping neckline of your lace slip doing nothing to hide the smooth crests of your collarbones, begging to be marked.
Neuvillette sucks in a breath, and attempts to swallow his doubts, before exhaling. He can no longer ignore the tightness in his groin, and to you, it’s clear that the obvious erection poking from beneath his trousers, speaks much louder than the uncertainty storming in his eyes. Perhaps he just needs one more push…
Your fingers come to curve around the sharp lines of his jaw, unwavering as you tilt his head up into your gaze. “Don’t worry about me, I can take it.”
His heart threatens to leap out of his chest in a flash of excitement, gratitude, desire; it’s far from the first time you’ve lain together, but to choose to bear such vulnerability before him, to surrender yourself to a full-fledged dragon… He glides his hands over the round slopes of your shoulders, easily sliding off the straps of your slip as he goes. The silk garment collapses down your torso, piling atop your forgotten dress.
“If that is truly what you wish…” He presses an openmouthed kiss to the bare skin between your breasts, and the warmth of his breath runs a chill even colder than the night air. His whispers hide a growl, and despite the blush apparent at the tips of his pointed ears, his hold on your waist tightens. One hand slides down to grasp at your rear, and you can feel him smile against your lips, the rattle of a faint chuckle rippling in his throat before your breath hitches as he picks you up in his arms, and carries you off to the bedroom.
He sets you by your shared bed, tearing off his now wrinkled shirt, while you wriggle out of whatever’s left of your dress, until both sets of clothing are discarded somewhere on the floor, and you’re finally left in only your panties and your stockings.
Immediately, his hands find your waist, roaming up and down over your curves as he smothers you in hungry kisses, herding you along until the backs of your knees hit the edge of your shared bed. This Neuvillette nips at your bottom lip, not asking for, but demanding entrance into your mouth, and you have no choice but to let him in, what with the way he makes you whine as he sneaks his hands down to knead the globe of your ass, before lowering you onto the bed.
The tingling sensations bloom in your stomach, buzzing with excitement while you ready yourself to surrender completely—pliant to his will, whatever it may be. Arousal swallows you like the sea and he has yet to even really touch you. Impatient, your hand wanders, though not far down enough before you’re caught in his grasp.
“Patience…” he mutters, pinning your wrist beside your head, broad shoulders caging you in between him and the sheets. His other hand follows the natural lines of your body, tracing along the edges until he stops to fondle one of your breasts.
It’s impossible to relax your speeding heart at this side of Neuvillette: less reserved in his touches, more candid in his wants. The untreated heat in your body makes sure to touch on every part of you, running like water through your veins, until you’re sure your dripping cunt is pulsing with a heart of its own. Unable to stand the ache any longer, you wriggle beneath him—rolling your hips and squirming until your knee unwittingly brushes against his crotch, eliciting a choked grunt from him, only slightly muffled by the fact that his teeth have dug their way into your exposed flesh.
He immediately pulls away at the sound of your surprised yelp, eyes darting to and fro across your features in frantic search for even the smallest semblance of discomfort, completely missing the way your entire body had seemed to arch into his touch. His eyes finally settle at the light indentations now displayed upon your once unblemished skin.
“Forgive me,” he begins, “I should have been more careful.” Neuvillette is ever the gentleman, but his voice is clearly strained in a poor attempt at fighting back his instincts—instincts that demand a dragon to mark what is his.
“There’s nothing to forgive.” A soft smile graces your lips as your hand reaches to cradle his face, curling around his jaw in hushed reassurance. It’s so easy to read the thoughts that plague him so. “It felt good, I promise.”
True to your word, his heightened senses easily pick up on the scent of pure arousal that drifts from between your legs, swirling in the air, and lulling him into a state he’s kept buried for so long, he’s unsure of whether he’d be able to hold himself back even if he wanted to. He admires your bravery for daring to poke at the slumbering beast; bravery he knows stems from a place of passion, but how can he release such inhibitions upon a mere human? So physically… fragile.
“I meant what I said: I can take it. And I know you won’t hurt me so…” Your fingers clasp around his shoulders, pulling your lover down just far enough to whisper, low and sultry, in his pointed ear.
“Don’t you dare look down on me, o’ hydro dragon sovereign..”
You lurch forward, manicured nails drawing light lines down his bare back, and he meets you halfway in a long, drawn out kiss. A quiet growl rumbles from deep within his throat, clearly aroused by the way you had drawled out his full title. He nips at your bottom lip, dragging out a single, short gasp before leaving to trail wet kisses down the column of your throat, never stopping until his lips hover over the very spot where he had previously made his mark.
He doesn’t even have to touch you, just his presence, tangled with your own anticipatory excitement, invites a shudder so deep, you can feel it in your bones. The sharp edge of his fangs scrape along that still-sensitive patch of skin, lightly, as if testing the waters, though this time, he makes sure to take note of the quiver in your pretty little mewls.
Slowly, he bites down again and a moan slips past your lips, forced out from the very depths of your chest as your fingers fly to tangle in his moonridden tresses. His hot breath seeps past the barrier of your skin, leaving every nerve privy to his effect, and combined with the building pressure, you’re left open for the stream of soft whimpers that leave the perfect ‘o’ of your parted lips. As he sinks his teeth deeper, you squeeze your eyes shut in the midst of all the pleasure.
“Do it again,” you gasp, “felt good… ”
And oh, he has absolutely every intention to, what with the way you’re putty underneath him. However, he must do something about how distracting your hands are when you tug at his hair: hard enough for him to groan with an ache so wanton, it sends tremors echoing down until his trousers feel far, far too tight.
Neuvillette is neither here nor there when he alternates between kissing and sucking and biting at your tender flesh—anywhere is fair game when you’ve relinquished yourself to him like this. With how attentive his lips are along your body, you hardly even care for the absence of his hand when he reaches around to untie the ribbon in his hair… at least not until it’s too late and you're left bemused by the uncharacteristic display of boldness; after all, it’s all you can do when your wrists are suddenly so tightly bound overhead.
You whine as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, suckling and swirling his tongue, while he ravishes the other between his fingers. Heat surges through you and the aching desperation congregating in your belly begins to boil; you’ve never felt so sensitive, never been more pervasive to his touch.
Inside. You need him inside of you. But with your hands currently incapacitated, you’ve no other choice except to buck into him, beckoning him with your hips in the hopes of redirecting his attention to where you throb.
“Inside. Please. I need you. Need you inside.”
He hums in acknowledgement of your wishes, tugging at the hardened bud with his teeth, successfully wringing another shaky cry from your throat, before he finally pulls at the delicate lace of your panties, and guides them down the length of your legs. You easily kick them off, but in his observation, his piercing gaze catches every thrum of your muscles as they tense underneath the hand that finally trails between your thighs. He drags his lithe fingers between your folds, coating them in your slick, while his thumb rubs your clit in slow, but firm, circles.
“My apologies for the wait.” Neuvillette kisses you right above your heart, where his acute hearing easily picks up how it palpitates as he dips his fingers into your velvet walls. “Allow me to make amends, my love.”
With the way your cunt gushes so copiously, it’s easy for him to slide all the way down to the last knuckle. He flicks his wrist, pumping fast and hard, scissoring you open before slipping in a third digit, drawing out mewl after pathetic mewl, as you fail to pull yourself together. The bedsheets twist beneath your incessant movements: simultaneously squirming not only from the initial stretch, but also to feel him deeper.
The discomfort is all too familiar, but with just the curl of his fingers, it washes away into unadulterated pleasure, just as it always does. But with your arms tethered, leaving you open and powerless, everything—every touch, every twist, every curl—feels tenfold.
Plus, no one would even believe you if you were to say that the chief justice had such a playful side in the bedroom; his fingers have explored your insides far too many times for him to just miss the little spot that he definitely knows by muscle memory. Whining, you buck your hips, senselessly grinding into his hand, hoping he’d get the message, hoping he’d quell your heat right at the source.
But something dangerous and wild and primordial shines in the blue-violet glow of his eyes. For all the times you’ve made love together, he’s never seen you like this: so desperate, so needy for him. He pinches a nipple, hard, before locking your jolting hips down; a show of strength to remind you of your place.
“Please, more.” Your voice rises in congruence with how you struggle against your ribbon-bound wrists. His fingers tease the spot again, this time with more force, and he watches as you keen and clench around him—helpless and at his mercy.
With a curl, his fingers crook inside your silken walls, pistoning in and out, fast and hard. Arousal continues to build, turning the low squelches into distinct suctions. Every nerve in your body is ignited, seared by the heat as he laps at the overflowing wetness that seeps out of your entrance. A satisfied purr sounds in his throat, and the vibrations dare your hips to buck in spite of the iron grip that holds you down.
It thrills him to see you steadily fall apart like this, coming so undone before him, dissolving under the weight of your pleasure. It’s just as you had wanted. More. So you can take it, can’t you? You can take more?
Neuvillette slots your throbbing clit into his mouth, hot tongue relentlessly striking the swollen nub with viscous lashes, while his fingers continue to bully your insides with no intention of slowing down. Sucking harder, fucking faster—you keen at the added stimulation, back arching clean off the bed in blinding pleasure, unable to do anything more than let out jagged sobs as you cum.
Your entire body grows taut as he sees you through the end of this high, before finally drawing out with one last sleight of his hand, so that his fingertips might graze along the velvet top of your walls, bidding farewell with another shudder-inducing wave of euphoria. He exits his soiled digits, clearly pleased as he inspects the amount of slick that coats his elegant hand.
“You’re absolutely divine.” He hums whilst licking up the side of his wrist, so as not to waste a single drop of your liquid pleasure. It’s intoxicating how exquisite you are, more decadent than even the most pristine of waters. “Perhaps you’d like a taste?”
His offer is rhetorical at best, as he answers for you, already slipping his slender fingers into your open mouth, tangling them with your tongue, until the first bits of drool begin to dribble from your lips.
He unties your wrists, releasing them from the ribbon’s hold; time and experience have proven that you’ll need something to grasp onto. In a haste, Neuvillette discards what remains of his clothes, and his cock springs forward in all its glory: long and thick, pale tip leaking and thrumming with desire.
“You’re absolutely sure… ?” he mumbles, voice trailing off, almost embarrassed. He can no longer control the way his hips twitch in excitement, begging to bury his cock into your warmth, but for his gentle heart’s sake, he needs to hear you say it again.
You laugh out a soft ‘yes’ but just for good measure, you rake your nails down his chest, applying just enough pressure to tickle his nerves. “Use me,” you goad. “Come on. Be wicked, my dragon.”
Neuvillette exhales, chuckling softly at humanity's arrogance. Wicked dragon. If that was what you wanted... “I wonder if you’d still say the same after I’ve finished with you.”
He pins you back down in one fell move, and aligns himself to your entrance, stopping after inserting only the tip. A delicate whimper leaves your lips as you wince at that familiarly sweet stretch, but you and your little cunt are both so eager to please—the continued arousal you churn out, weeping nonstop, and already clenching around just his cockhead. You wriggle into him, trying to fuck yourself deeper on his fat cock as you adjust to his size.
Reaching up, you pull him into a seemingly reassuring kiss, hands smoothing over the framing pieces of his hair, before curving around his jaw. His lips follow yours, but as you pull away and the short pieces of his hair fall back into place, you notice how his slitted reptilian pupils are dilated almost round.
“You wish for me not to hold back,” his voice comes in a low growl as he inches further into your cunt, “so please show me how resilient you are.”
It’s all the warning you receive before he slides the rest of his length to the hilt, burying himself in your creamy insides. A shattered sob tears through the room, and your arms fly around his neck in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself, but it only pulls him closer as he leans more of his weight into you, pressing down and reinforcing the heavy plow of his merciless hips.
Taking him all at once like this burns like wildfire. Pain from the sudden, rough stretch spreads hot and fast, the small embers bursting into a blaze of arousal as pleasure breezes through just as quickly—like air infinitely adding to an already devouring flame.
“You’re taking me so well,” he praises, turning his head to reward a small kiss to your cheek. Your hole gushes, rushing to quell the heat, and the added lubrication helps you settle into his pace. Still, the dual sensations wash over you like the tide. It pulls you under, drowns you and consumes you with absolute ecstasy.
And just when you think you’ve grown accustomed, Neuvillette lifts your hips, aiming for the spot he knows will drag out the most wonderfully broken cries from your throat. Your nails dig into his back, and he groans at the vice grip as you clamp down around his cock. With each powerful thrust, he buries himself balls deep with a force that has your tits bouncing along to his rhythm, letting the wanton sound of your sobs ring throughout the room, loud enough to almost drown out the lewd noise of skin slapping upon skin.
The coil in your belly is wound so tight that you’re sure it won’t be long until it collapses into itself. That it won’t be long until you yourself are about to implode, like a star ready to burst.
“I’m going… going to…” Between the ragged breaths and the overwhelming sensations of ecstasy, you can’t even find it in yourself to think straight.
Neuvillette hums, his liquid smooth voice doing nothing to hide his amusement. “You’d do well not to break so soon.”
He thumbs your clit, drawing tight circles, ignoring the way you convulse beneath him. As your back arches, he drags the flat of his teeth from the edges of your collarbones, down through the valley between your breasts.
Your entire body quivers, legs jolting by reflex to the intensity of your orgasm, vision blurring white as your lover continues to pound relentlessly through your high. There’s a layer of fuzziness over your mind that leaves you feeling as if you’re floating atop calm waters, but the fingers still thrumming on your abused nub are quick to drag you back into the salaciously dangerous depths of your own pleasure.
A string of pitched whines follow in the aftermath, but the pretty noises you make has him throbbing even from within your tight hole. You ask him not to hold back, yet here you are before him, so small and pitiful, already writhing from the intensity—and he hasn’t even cum yet.
Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, your body struggling for a break from the stimulation, but Neuvillette finds it quite adorable, in the way that a predator might toy with its prey. He slows his thrusts, but reaches deeper with every roll of his hips, each languid stroke hitting the exact spot that fills your sight with stars.
The lascivious sounds of your soaked cunt perfectly swallowing his cock, followed by the slap of his heavy balls on your ass—he’s mesmerized by the way he disappears and reappears, and disappears again inside of you. His heart skips, and he bucks, breaking his rhythm. You undo him like no other, and it spurs him on that he too, seems to have the same effect on you. The way your pussy holds on to him so tightly, the helpless cries of his name amidst your hiccuped whimpering…
He lets out a small chuckle, breath hot and ragged in your ear as he sucks at the inch of skin below. “Surely you can give me another,” he murmurs, the low grumble of his voice reverberating all the way down, until you can feel the vibrations in the hollows of your collarbone.
Your eyes flutter, desperately blinking away the wetness that has begun to gather at your lash line. Sweet Neuvillette, your Neuvillette who reveres you more than he ought to and touches you like you’re made of glass. Even through the numbing haze, you know that for him, you’d give anything.
A long, stuttered moan breaks out from between your lips. As if biding his time, he drags the entirety of his cock along your walls, the large vein that wraps around the length gliding along just right, that your back arches and your knees bend. It’s not that he means to move so tortuously slow, but you squeeze him to such an extent that in spite of his aching need to cum, he cannot help but try and savor the delicious way your walls are gripping for dear life.
Neuvillette pulls out with the sticky squish of your slick. His throbbing cock, long and flushed, glistens with the sheen of your juices. In the emptiness, you think that perhaps he’s taken pity on you and your now overly sensitive cunt, but that just isn’t fair. Not to him, nor you and your once again looming orgasm.
“You haven’t even cum yet,” you gasp, trying to argue through baited breath. The whole point of this was so that he could feel just as good as he always made sure you did. So why would he—
“I know.”
You can feel him as he lifts you, flipping you over like you’re nothing more than a doll, and manhandles you onto all fours. Limbs weak, mind frazzled, you’re barely able to hold yourself up, so when he realigns himself at your entrance and slams back through your folds with just as much power as before, you quite literally fall apart.
“Too much?” The low chuckle in your ear is dangerously taunting, wickedly amused and with no sign of its usual sweetness. You’re able to muster a pitiful whine, but the way your entire body trembles tells him everything he needs to know, as he reangles you mid-thrust.
“I believe you said you could take it.” With a particularly powerful snap of his hips, your arms buckle, and you collapse onto the mattress. The intensity continues to send you jolting forward, but his reaffirmed grip on your waist holds your hips in place.
Nothing deters him as he ruts into you, hitting deep new angles that have your fingers grasping at the sheets while your cunt grasps onto his cock. With every slap of his skin against yours, his tip threatens to kiss your cervix, the aftershocks rippling through you until they’re released as broken sobs, muffled into the bed.
How unfortunate that such noises, so very sweet to his ears, would be hidden from the world. Tangling his fingers along your scalp, Neuvillette tugs at your hair, lifting your head back so as to hear the pretty melody you sing when your cries ring around the room. Good. Just as the whole of Fontaine should recognize a dragon’s mark on your skin, they too should hear it’s he who pleasures your body so.
Little bits of drool trickle out of your open mouth, your eyes rolling back as he keeps up the brutal pace. Everything feels too overwhelming, yet so tantalizingly good, that your back curves and you’re creaming around him again.
Electricity shoots through your veins, your lungs desperately racing to catch up with the rapid beat of your heart. The stars painted across your vision drop down to your stomach, exploding with an intensity that rattles you to your core. It’s a flood with no remorse—taking and leaving nothing in return, easily washing away any and all thoughts, until you’re left mewling the name of the only one who could ever give you such a sweet taste of heaven.
But Neuvillette continues to thrust into you, and as he, too, nears his peak, his tireless strokes finally melt into something a little more forgiving. Just a little. The long drag of his cock slides so smoothly against your slick walls, gentle enough to fool your delirious mind into loosening your grip around him.
What trickery from the wicked dragon who slams his hips forward with enough force so that your body jostles with every push and pull as he hits all the right spots again and again. Trapped under the weight of his body, all you can do is feel: the heat of the room smothering all your senses, the fervorous thrusts pushing you to your very limit—all you can do is feel and take it as he kisses the spongy head of your cervix, leaving you without a semblance of sanity, blabbering indiscernible nothings that beg to milk him dry.
“Want more,” you keen, voice as broken as the crystalline tears that roll down your cheeks and melt into the pillows. “Inside. Wan’ it inside.”
Neuvillette laughs, low and airy, strained as his grip tightens, fingertips digging into your hips hard enough that it’d be sure to leave bruises come the morrow. “Is that what you want?”
“Please, please I–” You stop to let out something between a pant and a moan. “Want you to, h-hah, cum inside, wan’ your cum inside me.” Your walls clamp down even harder, as if attempting to trap his cock deep inside you forever, as if you weren’t already tight enough around him.
White fills his vision, and white fills your womb as Neuvillette cums to the knowledge that you love this. He takes in the sight of you, his precious treasure, now reduced to the likes of a common whore: legs quivering, ass in the air, cunt filled to the brim and leaking from where the two of you merge. All for him. By his doing.
Such splendor automatically evokes the instinct to claim you in a way far beyond that of human understanding… but you’ve already let him indulge more than enough tonight; he couldn’t possibly ask for more.
You whimper when you feel him stir again inside you, careful as he brushes past your too-sensitive folds, but even such simple movements hazard to relight the flicker of arousal once again. Every ridge and vein, drawn out so agonizingly slow, sends an inadvertent shiver down your spine until he finally pulls out with a squelch.
There’s no hope in tearing those sharp, reptilian eyes away from your puffy cunt, abused and messy and leaking with your combined fluids. Neuvillette sucks in a breath, trying to suppress his urges as much as he’s trying to swallow down the desire quickly boiling over in his belly again. Cumming inside you—no, breeding you—was a privilege. For dragons such as he, it’s a ritual reserved only for mates, and given the difference in your physiology, he had never allowed himself to do so—at least not until now, that is.
In his defense, you had begged for it, and how could he ever deny the very one whom he has entrusted his heart to—especially when you were so beautifully fucked out and unraveled on his cock like that. And perhaps he’s lived among humans long enough to forgive this indulgence as a paradigm of fleeting desire, though nothing of what he feels for you could ever be considered fleeting.
He parts your folds with two slender fingers, giving himself a better view as his cum now seeps out with suent access. You whine again when you feel him drag his digits down the sides of your pussy lips, catching the overflow before it can fall onto the sheets, and stuffing it right back into your little hole. No point in stopping now, if he’s already committed his sin.
From your half-lidded gaze, you manage to steal a glance at your lover, and judging from the erection that still stands stiff as a rod, he has yet to be satiated. In the attempt to break through the shadow of delirium, you lift your head, shifting your weight back onto your elbows, and forcing your battered body to turn just the slightest bit over.
“You’re still hard,” you note through staggered breath, “We can go again if you want.”
Neuvillette looks down as if he hasn’t already been feeling the near painful arousal throbbing in his groin. Of course he’s still hard—how could he not be; you’re so complacent before him, offering yourself to him like that. But perhaps he is too soft-hearted, for he only lets out a reassuring hum as he leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.
“You were beyond perfect tonight,” he murmurs. “It… might not be pleasurable for you if I continue anymore. I can finish myself.”
Lovestruck, you shake your head. “I can take it r’member?” Your large eyes, red-rimmed and dreamy, plead for him to use you—use you to his own content, use you so that he’d feel just as good as he always makes you feel. You nibble at your bottom lip, bashful. “You can even use your other form if you'd like...”
Your words catch him off guard, and he immediately stills in a half-hearted attempt to collect himself as another wave of pure, unadulterated desire pulses through his entire being. Neuvillette swallows hard before letting out a slow, shaky breath. His cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath the creamy skin that now seems to gleam with a soft shine, revealing scattered patches of effervescent cerulean scales. You affect him more than you could possibly know, revitalizing such carnal urges that ignore his will and allow his body to react so enthusiastically.
“You’re sure…?” His normally polished tone is husked in a defiant strain. Despite the way his pupils are blown wide and wild with lust, conflict still swims in the shallows of his expression, made clear by the way his voice rasps as he desperately claws to retain even a semblance of his composure.
The tips of your fingers trace the blue streaks that protrude from the crown of his silver head, now hardened into twin ribbons of ivory; his horns, delicate but strong, glow a luminescent azure—so warm and inviting in its radiance… You grasp them tight, pulling him down with you, as you fall back into the bed, his lips pressed against yours. Of course you’re sure. He’d never hurt you, your Neuvillette would never ever hurt you.
“Devious…” he whispers between kisses, your tongue and teeth clashing in a waltz of their own, as his body drapes over yours.
It’s not the first time you’ve seen him in this form, crossed somewhere between a human and a dragon, as beautiful as he is powerful. But it’s certainly the first time you’ve ever attempted to take him like this. He’s bigger in this form—you can already feel it as he grinds up between your legs. Longer. Thicker. Ribbed and embossed with the same pearlescent blue scales. Beautifully intimidating, just like the dragon sovereign himself.
And as you continue to marvel, he lets his cock rest across your lower stomach, sizing you up. His fervor shines through in the way he’s already leaking a mess of sticky precum atop the smooth skin of your belly. A satisfied hum vibrates in his throat, clearly enthused.
“This is how deep I’ll be,” he muses, almost apologetic of the incoming stretch you’d have to endure. “I’m beginning to wonder if I can even fit inside you.”
Would it be wicked of him to admit, even to himself, that he enjoys the way you wriggle and cry just taking him in his human form? And yet… he’s forced to steady his breathing in a poor attempt at grounding himself—a task near impossible as you roll your hips up, ardently shaking your head no, outright ignoring the last out he offers.
“I will… make it fit.” They’re the last words you manage to wrangle out before being overtaken by the need to be full and filled. There’s no reason you should be so terribly, terribly hollow, when he’s right there. Neuvillette chokes back a laugh; your unyielding determination sends blood rushing to his erection, desperate to feel your velvet walls crowd around him again.
Finally relenting, he teases your entrance—running his cock up and down your slit, spreading your wetness, before slapping your clit with the tip—reminding you just how sensitive you still are. Gasping, you jerk away from the stimulation that once again taunts your nerves. Your hole, however, clenches around nothing, eager to please.
But perhaps you’ve greatly underestimated just how big he is, because he barely makes it past the threshold of your folds, before the pleasure pain of the stretch begins to take over. That, and the overstimulation from your previous orgasms, already have you instinctively trying to snap your legs shut, but the firm hold on your thighs forbid you from doing so.
“Ha-ah N-neuvi—” A twisted sense of pride swells in his chest at the way you can hardly speak as your breath hitches and your lungs desperately search for air. “’s too big,” you sob.
He gives you a momentary reprieve to adjust, while his hand snakes down to run sloppy circles over your clit.
“More?” he whispers.
It takes you a minute to respond, but he waits until finally your voice shakes with the violence of each hiccupped sob. “More.. please…”
A baritone hum sounds in his throat as he pulls forward, pressing wet kisses to your jaw in a quiet reassurance, effectively sliding a couple inches deeper, as he does so. “You can take it, my love. You’re so pretty like this.”
Your arms wrap around his neck, your hold eliciting a long, low groan from the dragon. Wherever you squirm, he follows, pressing more of his weight onto you, burying more of his cock into you. Each ridged inch that slides past your folds, seems to push the thoughts right out of your head, letting them dissipate into thin air until you’re left mindlessly moaning sweet praises to his name.
Desperate to accommodate the unfamiliar enormity of his dragon cock, your walls ripple and tense around him, back arching into him, wanting to feel ever closer to the love of your life, determined to push your cunt to its limit for him. For your Neuvillette.
Neuvillette. Neuvillette. Neuvillete. He’s all you can think about; him and his monster cock that seems to split you so deliciously open. It’s wave after wave of heat that sets your insides ablaze, soothed by the waters of arousal that have you begging for more, and restarting the cycle until he finally bottoms out, and you feel as if you’ve been electrified. You squeeze your eyes shut, but with the way his bulbous tip prods at your cervix, your mind goes blank, and the tears fall regardless.
“There…” you pant, eyes glassy from the euphoria of feeling so incredibly full. “’s all in.”
“Yes,” he praises, softly. “Look at you, so nice and tight for me.”
He wipes the salt from your cheeks, distracting you with a delicate kiss. His fangs are more prominent in this form; you can feel them as he grins against your lips, whilst whispering breathy nothings that tell of how good you are for him, how perfect, how he should be so lucky to have you like this, to have you as his.
When your body eases enough, he pulls away, though the subtle shift of his cock still drags a pitched whine out from your lips. If he’s to be honest, he cannot tear his gaze from where the two of you are joined. It’s mesmerizing, hypnotic, to see how he splits you open, to feel how you mold into the shape of him, to imagine just how much your little cunt had to stretch so that he might rest comfortably inside.
Though, comfortable might be an overstatement due to the way your muscles tense and release so tightly around him, clamoring for more of his attention. Eyes darkening with lust, Neuvillette smooths a hand over your abdomen, cerulean scales cold upon your skin.
“Can you feel me right…” He draws a clawed finger delicately across the skin of your belly, where his cock rests parallel underneath. “Here…”
He leaves more than just a faint line of red where his talon rakes. Yes, you want to say. You can feel the faint prickle of his claw on your skin, you can feel how the sharpness sends a shiver ringing through your body, and of course you can feel how he’s sheathed his dragon cock right into the very depths of your cunt, deeper than anyone’s ever been, deeper than he’s ever been… But the only sounds that spill through your lips are another stream of broken sobs, fever touched by how close you are to cumming just from being filled.
“Go on, darling. Cum for me.” He can feel you pulsing around him, clenching and unclenching in search of sweet release, yet he makes no additional moves to help you, leaving you to your own devices.
At this point, you can no longer tell if you’re making things better or worse, as every little movement knocks you into reaction—like dominoes toppling over until every piece of you has been unraveled. You writhe atop the soiled sheets for any sort of friction, but it’s too much when his tip knocks against the entrance to your womb. So you shift away, letting the ridges on his shaft graze against your syruped walls, inciting another wave of need. The scales continue to tip between ‘too much’ and ‘more’, until you finally work yourself into a delirious orgasm, on nothing but his cock inside you and your own incessant squirming.
As you continue to ride out your high, Neuvillete finally begins to move, tearing himself away from your fluttering vice grip with a tremulous moan, because fuck you’re still so tight around him, still so warm and wet even after cumming for what? The fourth time tonight? Pressure lands heavy over your frame as he begins to rock into you, folding you in half as he does.
He fucks you slow and even, stretching you out even more with every new stroke. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as this new position affords him the privilege to reach impossibly deeper. Despite his shallow thrusts, each drag of his cock still blooms an ache from all the hidden spots that he has no choice but to touch, though it’s quick to pass, as pleasure continues to coil in your belly.
It’s so much all at once. You can’t take it, it’s too much. But the soul-shattering euphoria of being so utterly full, is unparalleled. You want more, you need more.
“My pearl,” he whispers, though his voice is gruff, “my heart… I want to hear you.”
And so you oblige him, wailing something broken and pitched and strangled, at the sudden snap of his hips, at the way he bumps into your cervix and seems to rattle your organs about.
“F-fuck,” you cry, without thinking. Not that you can anyway, when the push-pull tide of his thrusts raises you to new heights of delirium. “H-ah god, fuck Neu–”
Another sharp, jutting thrust cuts you off as the dragon above you snarls, clearly agitated by your crass choice of words. “There are no gods to help you here.” Not in Fontaine where he rules, and certainly not here in his home.
There’s a feral wildness that shines in his bright vishap eyes, and his possessive streak flares—dragons have no natural inclination to share after all. It’s clear in the way his pace changes: faster, harsher, more ragged—a ferocity befitting of an elemental dragon ruler. But titles aside, he’s still your Neuvillette, and every move he makes is still laced with a tenderness, so as not to break you more than he already has.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he commands, dragging his tongue up the length of your throat.
“Yours. ‘m yours, Neuvillette.”
In and out, in and out. His long strokes guide the ridges of his cock back and forth through your tender muscles, leaving you to mumble mindless nonsense as you convulse and keen beneath him. Whatever pain you had felt earlier has long chipped away into undeniable pleasure as you near the precipice of yet another orgasm. Eyes glazed over in all consuming ecstasy, all you know to do is to chase your lust, and so your hips grind back, rolling together like waves in a storm.
Amidst the flagrant wet sounds of your rabid fucking, you cum again, lashes fluttering as your eyes roll, muscles tight as they tremble from such rapture—so lovely, so beautiful. Your siren call of pretty cries spill from your lips, intermingled with weak babbles of his name. You’re so breathtaking like this in your post-climax haze: fucked out and cloudy-eyed, panting into the cool air as his slowed thrusts still rack up an aftershock of shudders.
Neuvillette bows his head, once again trailing wet kisses across your collarbones, before pausing to hover his lips right over the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his warm breath a familiar spot of comfort in this maddening pleasure. Perhaps it’s some sort of sixth sense unique to only the most attuned of lovers, ones whose souls seem to harmonize in perfect resonance, but there’s hesitance in the way he suckles at the spot, fangs ghosting over your tender skin.
“S’okay… you can do it.” Your soft, dreamy sighs of approval are accompanied by the languid tilt of your neck, jeopardizing more of your delicate skin to the dangers of his teeth. “You can mark me… w’nna be your mate…”
Choking back a moan, Neuvillette pistons thrice more into your cunt—pulling out until just his tip remains, and then plunging back into your gooey insides, sending you into another round of dizzying convulsions. His own orgasm follows, seeing stars as he places an amorous bite to the crook of your neck using only the flat of his teeth.
With how deep he’s buried, ribbons of his cum shoot right into your womb, spilling out into every cavity, and painting your interior white. Warmth blossoms from the inside out. Your heart is full, mumbling happy nothings of ‘mates’ in between sniffles, while a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock, thick liquid oozing from where he ends and you begin. His own chest rises and falls in jagged patterns, but his only want is to seek your lips, to drink in your mewls, and exchange sweet kisses, so that your soul and his, may meld together as they dance in the shape of your breaths intertwined.
He strokes your hair, planting easy kisses all around as he unplugs himself, letting loose the flood of cum that seeps out of your hole, but you whine at the loss, wanting nothing more than to be ever close to your newly consummated mate. Neuvillette only nuzzles into your neck, deep purrs of content reverberating from his chest as he lazily rubs his scent all over you. Meanwhile, a quick swish of his sapphire tail up the sticky underside of your thigh, teases another pulse from your cunt, and by reflex, you push out another dollop of white.
A small tap tap to his shoulder distracts him from his scenting, and he looks up with a tilt to his head and a small furrow to his brow, his normally sharp eyes full of earnest concern, relaxing only once he finishes reading through the bleary, dulcet tones of adoration that glow in your half-lidded eyes. You poorly suppress your little giggles—although he often disagrees, your lover really can be quite adorable.
Fontaine’s Iudex Neuvillette is elegant, poised, and meticulously polished… but here in the quiet night hours, in the privacy of your hearth, your Neuvillette is unruly-haired and damp-skinned from satiating the beastly desires of his still tender heart. You reach out a tired arm, first brushing back the pieces of hair that cling to his skin, then wrapping your palm around to cup his face.
“Was I a good mate?” Your hand slips down from his cheek to play with the tips of his silvery hair. “W’nna be the best for you.”
“You already are the best for me.” His hand, no longer clawed nor scaled, brings yours back up for a kiss to your knuckles. “The only one for me.”
He rolls off of you, sweeping you into his embrace, as he carries you off to the bathroom. Your head rests heavily against his chest, but your happy hums and quiet murmurs of ‘good,’ tell him that you have not drifted off into slumber just yet.
“You truly are a wonder,” he breathes, dipping his head to place a soft kiss to your forehead. “And it would be my honor to have you as my mate… but not tonight.”
His instincts had urged him to do it, to permanently claim you as his, and mark you as a dragon would, but his heart vehemently disagrees. The most sacred bond known to his kind is an ultimatum in your relationship, and it is one he refuses to be the sole architect of, so perhaps the two of you can revisit this conversation again once you’re more clear-headed; his answer would remain the same anyways.
a/n2: writing this took years off my life, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless ! as always, thank u sm for reading, and reblogs + feedback are very much appreciated ♡
© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform
#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette smut#neuvillette x reader smut#genshin x reader#genshin x reader smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin thirsts#neuvillette x you#genshin x you#tw monsterfucking
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
You Came, You Called || LN4
Summary: when strangers follow you from the nightclub there’s only one person you want to call.
Warnings: angst, threatening behaviour, fluff
WC: 2.4K
Lando stirred at the sound of his phone ringing on the bedside table. There were few people who could get past the ‘do not disturb’ setting that came into effect after midnight. With bleary eyes he reached for the phone and cringed at the bright light in his face but the sight of your name chased away his exhaustion.
It had been 162 days since you last spoke to him. It had been 162 days since he had ruined everything. He regretted his foolishness for every single one of those days and his stomach flipped at the thought of hearing your voice.
“Hey,” he answered, a flinch following as his voice cracked from lack of use while he slept. He quickly cleared it before trying again. “Hey.”
“Hey, baby.”
Alarm bells rang in his head and he sat up straight. Had you called the wrong man? That thought soured in his mouth.
“I’m on my way home.”
It wasn’t your unsteady voice he was focused on but the male voices that sounded far too close for his liking. “Aw, don’t call your boyfriend. We only want to talk.”
“Where are you?” Lando was already pulling on a pair of sweatpants and grabbing the first shirt he came across. “Are you okay?”
“No,” you whispered with a tremble in your tone. “I miss you.”
“Tell me where you are, sweetheart. I’m on my way.”
“Come on, gorgeous, it’s just a bit of fun,” a man called out and Lando saw red when he heard you choke back a sob. He knew the sound because he had been the reason for it before, and it had haunted him ever since. “He doesn’t have to know.”
“I’m heading towards Chocolat Boutique, please hurry.”
“I’m coming, sweetheart. I’m on my way.” Lando was already racing down to the garage and jumping in his McLaren. The engine roared loudly in the underground space before he tore out onto the street. “Keep talking to me, okay?”
The small store would have closed hours ago, but it was down the street from Jimmyz nightclub which was where you probably had been. He didn’t even know you were in town, and he didn’t have a right to know your whereabouts anymore.
“I’m scared, Lan.” The pain echoed around him as his phone connected to the car and played in surround sound.
“I know you are, but it’s going to be okay. I’m almost there, I promise.” He didn’t care about speeding tickets or running red lights. He flew through the narrow streets as he was forced to listen to the cat calls.
“I didn’t know who to call,” you admitted as you tried to walk faster but your heels hindered any escape. The three men were getting closer but they were in no hurry as they prowled both sides of the street to herd you along.
“You can always call me, love,” Lando swore, taking the last turn fast enough for the tires to squeal in protest. “And I’ll always answer.”
He found you on the footpath clutching your phone to your ear, hand cupped over the microphone as you spoke to him. Fear had widened your eyes and your normal stature cowered under the gaze of the men behind you.
Twisting the steering wheel, Lando skidded to a halt beside you and threw the door open. You had seen him angry before, when races don’t go his way, but this was beyond anger. Waves of rage rolled off him as you leapt into his arms, your trembling form finding itself molding perfectly back into his body. Two puzzle pieces slotting back together.
“I got you, sweetheart,” he soothed as he cradled the back of your head and glared over your shoulder. “You’re safe now.”
He might not have been the most imposing figure but you knew Lando was strong and regularly had boxing lessons for training. You had no doubt that if anything escalated he would use every lesson to protect you, but the cowards shrank back into the shadows of the shops.
“Let’s get you home.”
You were in such a state of shock that you didn’t see Lando wince at his mistake. You hadn’t called his apartment home for 162 days, not since you packed your bags and left. But right now you longed for that place where you had felt so safe and secure, tangled in his sheets and he curled his body around yours.
He opened the passenger door and reluctantly stepped out of your embrace to guide you into the seat. The doors locked as he started the engine and you exhaled a heavy breath of relief when the street was left behind.
Tearing your eyes away from the tinted window, you looked at Lando properly and saw his disheveled appearance. “I’m sorry for waking you.”
“I’m not.” He took his eyes off the road for a second before reaching over to take your hand. “You’re freezing.”
He couldn’t tell if you were shaking because you were cold or if it was the adrenaline leading to shock. Dropping your hand he reached behind your seat to grab a hoodie that was always left in the car. The material was soft and smelled like him as you pulled on, inhaling deeply at the familiarity of the scent.
“I miss stealing these,” you whispered as you buried your cold hands into the front pocket.
Lando chuckled at the admission. He missed seeing his hoodies on you and asking if you knew where his favourite ones were. You would lie and he would smile at how terrible the attempt was.
“You can steal that one, if you want. I have too many now that they don’t mysteriously disappear.”
The car pulled into the garage and you found the space where your car used to park now filled with a pretty Lamborghini. A new sense of sadness hit that of course everything could be upgraded and replaced. “You can take me to my hotel. I wasn’t thinking clearly, you probably have company.”
His lips turned down at the thought and he shook his head. Lando understood why you would assume that, after all it was the reason you had left. What he had thought was harmless flirting had wrought destruction on his relationship with you. He knew he should’ve deleted the messages as soon as they were received but a moment of weakness when he was away from you led him to reply.
He betrayed your trust and he had regretted it ever since.
“There isn’t anyone,” he said as he parked. “There isn’t anyone ever, just to be clear.”
You mulled over his words as you stepped out of the car and accepted his hand, trading the warmth of the pocket for his palm. You kept hearing the insinuation echo with each step in the empty garage.
“Did you go out alone tonight?”
You shook your head. “Ana felt sick so she left. I should have gone with her.”
“So why did you stay?”
You weren’t ready to admit there was a slight hope you would see him so you just shrugged. It was Saturday night in Monaco and Jimmyz was the place to be - especially for a handsome, single man like Lando. You hadn’t wanted it to be this way though.
“I stopped going there after…a couple of months ago,” he said as he unlocked his door.
“Why? You loved that place.”
“I loved going with you,” he corrected. “I got to hold you and dance, show you off to everyone. When I went back, everyone just wanted to use me.”
You could imagine the women fawning over him and the men trying to be his next best friend. Sex or money, it was all they wanted from him.
“I’m sorry, Lan.”
“Lan,” he chuckled, following the light down the hall to his bedroom. The blanket was tossed aside and his charging cord was half hanging from the wall, a testament to how quickly he had left his bed to rescue you. “No one else calls me that anymore. It’s always Lando Norris, full name, so fucking weird. It’s Lando Norris getting out of his car. Oh, look, it’s Lando Norris scratching his nose.”
You laughed at his impersonation and sat at the edge of the bed. It was such an innocent thing but it brought back a million memories made in this room and he was seeing them all too as he stood frozen.
“Are you going to stand there all night, Lando Norris?”
His eyes traced your lips that mocked him before he shook his head of the thought that entered his head. Going to his wardrobe, he grabbed a loose shirt and tossed it to you before turning his back. “That’ll be more comfortable to sleep in than your dress.”
You laughed to yourself as he turned away, despite intimately knowing every inch of your body, until you found his eyes in the reflection of the mirror. His tortured eyes dared you to tell him to look away, but they begged you all the same. Maybe you were feeling grateful for the rescue, or maybe it was just an old habit that you held his gaze as you rose to your feet and let your dress fall to the floor with his hoodie.
His eyes darkened and he groaned, but the sound woke him up from his stupor. “I’ll go sleep on the couch.”
“Wait.” You took a step towards him as he stepped towards the door. “Please stay.”
He heard the fragility in your tone and the residual fear from the evening creeping back. He knew it was a bad idea but he couldn’t find the words to voice them as he gripped the door handle.
You watched his fingers release their tight hold before he nodded. “But please put the shirt on,” he pleaded as you tested his self restraint.
It was summer and the air still held warmth despite the early hour, but you dutifully pulled it over your head and climbed into the sheets. Lando waited until you were completely covered before he walked around to his side of the bed and curled up at the edge.
You both lay in silence, back to back, watching the shadows on the wall as the minutes ticked away. Lando was like a heat seeking missile and he was fighting an internal battle to keep from rolling over and curling his body around yours. You had always loved physical contact, it was comforting to be wrapped in his arms.
You knew he was awake and uncomfortable.
He knew you were awake and uncomfortable.
A few more minutes passed and you could no longer pretend he didn’t exist, or that you didn’t want the comfort he could give. “Lan?”
“Yeah?” His response was instant and you felt the bed shift as he rolled onto his back.
“Stop being weird and just cuddle me so we can get some sleep.”
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
You giggled and reached blindly for him. “I am already.”
Your hand found his arm and he shimmied across the space until it curled around your waist. His knees tucked behind yours and his breath warmed your neck as he whispered, “I’m sorry. For everything. I know you hate me, but-”
“I don’t,” you interjected, twisting your neck to look at him in the dim light. “I did, I really did. But I don’t anymore.”
“You should. I hurt you so bad. I deserve your hate.”
You swallowed down the lump in your throat and looked away as you admitted aloud what you had known for a while. “I can’t hate you, Lan, not when I still love you.”
Lando froze still behind you and you weren’t sure if he was even breathing. “You still love me?” Disbelief, wonder, hope - it was so saturated in that question.
“I thought something terrible was going to happen to me tonight so I called you in case it was the last time I could. I didn’t want ‘I hate you’ to be my last words to you.”
Lando’s gut clenched at the thought and his arms tightened around you, crushing your back to his chest. “I wish you called sooner, I would come day or night to get you.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think you do,” he said sadly. “Every weekend for the past five months I wonder if you are out drinking and clubbing. I know it’s not my place, and I lost all right to know where you are, but I need to know you safe, sweetheart. It kills me to think that there might be someone else looking out for you, because that was my job. It should still be my job, to protect you, because I love you too. I never stopped loving you.”
You squirmed in his arms but they were too tight to move. “Lan, I need you to let go of me,” you murmured.
“I’ve tried, but I can’t. I can’t give up on us.”
“Lan.”
His breath was shaky but he released his tight grip on you, despite his desire to keep you close. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said any of that.”
He started to pull away but you finally had room to move and followed. “Lando! Come back, you muppet. I just wanted to see your face without breaking my neck,” you laughed.
He paused, a little from appearing between his brows. “Let go…oh…” His eyes lit up even in the dark room and he bundled you back into his arms. “Muppet is my word.”
You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and inhaled his scent. “I stole it too, like your hoodies.”
“I was a muppet so you can have it this time.” He pulled back so he could find your eyes. “Where does this leave us?”
“You broke my trust.” You felt him deflate at the words. “But when I needed you, you came.”
“You called.”
Your chest felt light with emotion those two words brought and you combed your fingers into his dark curls. “I don’t know where this leaves us but what I do know is that I really want you to kiss me.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Now? Are you sure? It might just be the adrena-”
“Shut up and kiss me, Lan.”
He didn’t need to be told a third time.
#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sin for Me
You know that dating Yakuza King Sukuna means he is often busy with work until late at night. But that doesn't mean you can't drive to his fancy downtown office and take his mind off work, at least for a little while. -> This is part of my Blog Anniversary Event (closed). @skunaskitten requested "Sin for Me" by TWNTYFOUR & 7INK. Omg babe, thank you so much for requesting Yakuza!Sukuna!! I miss him so much, and this song is so sexy and fits him so well!!
Pairing: Yakuza!Sukuna x Reader (female)
Genre: smut + fluff
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: 18+, smut, sex in Sukuna's office, dirty talk, creampie, daddy-kink. This story is set in my Yakuza!Sukuna Universe, but you don't need to read that to understand what is going on. Sukuna is the Oyabun of one of Tokyo's most powerful Yakuza clans, and reader is in an established relationship with him. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.
Your heart flutters as you stride down the large hallway of the fancy downtown office. It's long after sunset, the city is wrapped in night, a million little glittering lights lighting it up. And you feel on fire as you approach the heavy wooden double door at the end of the hallway.
The door to the office of the King of Tokyo's underworld. Sukuna's door.
Your man, your lover, your whole world since you met him.
Sukuna is a busy man, always giving his all and always so passionate about everything he does. So intense. He is still in his fancy office at eleven p.m., going through his documents, maybe preparing a new contract, or maybe signing someone's death sentence disguised as a business e-mail.
And you were feeling rather lonely in his penthouse, all alone, sitting on the luxurious leather couch, watching TV, and waiting for Sukuna to come home.
You know he doesn't do it to anger you. He would never do that. But he tends to forget about the time when he is busy with work. And a man like Sukuna has a lot of business to deal with. He is the King, after all.
You can't deny that it's incredibly sexy how dedicated he is to his work. Passionate and ambitious. Just like he is in bed.
But enough is enough. You are here now to take Sukuna's mind off work.
You feel exhilarated, a mix of adrenaline and lust pumping through your veins as you push open the double door to Sukuna's office. You can feel the sinful caress of the red lace lingerie you are wearing beneath the luxurious black coat.
Everything you wear was bought by Sukuna in the fancy designer boutiques of the city. The city that belongs to him.
You are already ruining those expensive panties, already so wet just at the thought of the Yakuza King's maroon gaze traveling over your body.
He is sitting at his mahogany desk, a glass of vodka in front of him, his suit jacket abandoned, his black tie loosened, the upper buttons of his red dress shirt open, revealing some of his buff chest and the sexy tattoos that mark him as the King of Tokyo's underworld.
A pair of beautiful maroon eyes lands on you. An elegant eyebrow gets raised. An amused smirk lifts one corner of soft pink lips.
"Decided to provide me some company, my love?"
You smile at him while your heart beats wildly in your chest.
"Yes, I couldn't let you be here all stressed and alone, could I?"
You lick your lips nervously as you slowly unbutton your coat and then let it slip off your shoulder and fall to the floor, revealing your red lace lingerie to Sukuna's hungry gaze.
His smirk grows bigger. He lets go of the pen he was holding and leans back in his leather chair, maroon eyes never leaving yours as he says,
"Then come over here, angel, and sin for me."
You smile at him and start walking toward him, but his low, velvety voice stops you,
"Uh uh, not like that. Take it all off for me. Be a good girl for Daddy. Leave those panties on the floor."
You can feel your pulse even in your pussy, wild and excited, so turned on by being here in Sukuna's office late at night, the nightly city twinkling outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the King's eyes on you, knowing he wants you. And you are eager to please him, eager to obey his every command.
Sukuna looks like a sexy devil, sipping his vodka while watching you, his cat-like eyes trailing slowly over your body as you slip out of the lacey bra, moaning softly when you feel the air brush over your naked tits. You look at Sukuna with your heart racing as you let your hands slide down your sides, hooking your fingers in the luxurious fabric of your red panties.
Your breath quickens, and Sukuna's eyes flicker to yours.
"Yes, just like that, my good girl. Take them off. Show me your pretty pussy."
You feel light-headed with those maroon eyes on you as you push down your panties, letting them drop to the floor before you step out of them, leaving them behind as you slowly make your way to Sukuna's desk.
He watches you with his burning gaze, taking you in as if you are his prey or the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes upon. Maybe both at the same time.
You are so wet for him, so aroused by the situation, pussy creaming up so much that you feel it on your thighs as you slowly walk over to Sukuna.
The moment you have reached him, his strong hands grab your hips and pull you on his lap. You gasp, so turned on by being in his lap like this, wet and completely naked while he is still fully clothed, smirking at you like the devil that he is, his large hands so warm on your bare skin, his thumbs gently caressing your hips, making lust pool in your stomach.
But he isn't just the devil. He is also your lover, your man. His lips capture yours in a kiss that's equally passionate and tender.
"Kuna…"
Your voice comes out as a needy whimper when one of his hands slips between your spread legs to rub your wet swollen clit slowly, making your hips buck against him, smearing your cream all over his luxurious black suit pants.
You can hear the smile in his sexy voice when he says,
"Yeah, kitten?"
"I want to make you feel good… please… let me.. let me take your mind off work."
"I know, sweetheart, I know. And I guarantee you that you are very successful in your mission. I can't even remember what work is."
Sukuna pulls away from your lips to grin at you while his right-hand rubs those delicious slow circles around your clit, and his left hand opens his belt and pants. You moan softly when he frees his fat long cock, so gorgeous, so perfect, and all yours.
He gives it a few lazy pumps while he looks at you through his long black lashes,
"Come sit on my cock. Ride Daddy until every last trace of stress leaves his body."
His maroon eyes sparkle at you, his low voice soft like a caress, velvety and full of desire, as you gulp hard and lift yourself up enough to position your soaked, twitching pussy over Sukuna's swollen cockhead, slowly lowering yourself onto him, gasping when you feel his thick tip splitting you open.
You cry out softly when you sit down completely on him, taking his whole hard length into you, so deep, so perfect, making you feel so full. Your head is spinning, clit pulsing wildly. You could so easily get lost in pleasure. But you remind yourself why you are here. To take care of Sukuna, to help him de-stress, to help him forget about work. To spoil his gorgeous cock until he can't think anymore.
You lift yourself up again, moaning at the feeling of that veiny cock gliding through your wet heat. Your hands link behind Sukuna's neck, fingertips caressing the stubble of his undercut, and you look deeply into his eyes, gasping, when you sink down again, taking his gorgeous cock all the way into you again, clenching your hot cunt around him.
The low groan falling from Sukuna's lips is all the reassurance you need.
You moan his name as you bounce on his fat cock, riding the King thoroughly on his fancy office chair, taking him in so deep anytime you sink down on his lap again. Clenching around his fat cock, pleasuring him with your wet, hot cunt, spoiling his gorgeous cock like he deserves after a hard day at work.
Sukuna's large hands are on your naked ass cheeks, kneading them softly but not doing anything else, letting you take control, giving himself to you. Letting you ride him and take care of him just like you said you would.
His lips trail over your tits which jiggle in front of his face. His teeth graze over your hardened nipples, tongue flicking over them, making you cry out in lust.
And your horny cries get joined by Sukuna's low moans as he lets his head fall back against his leather chair, hands tightening on your ass, muscular tighs flexing beneath you as you feel his orgasm approach.
"Ah! Yes!! Oh Kuna, please cum in me, Daddy!"
A low growl escapes his lips as his eyes close and his hips buck, impaling you deeply on his gorgeous fat length. You can feel him cum in you, can feel his cock throb in you, shooting his hot seed into you in several strong bursts.
And you are spurred on by Sukuna's orgasm, riding him so sweetly through it, milking Sukuna's cock lovingly until he has given you every last drop of his hot seed. Fucking all the stress out of him. Serving the King of Tokyo's underworld like only you can.
You tumble over the edge a second later, crying out Sukuna's name loudly as your pussy shudders around him, and your cream gushes onto his cock and his fine suit pants, giving him your all too.
His large hands knead your ass gently as he slowly rolls his hips, fucking you through your orgasm, his lips claiming yours in another passionate kiss, kissing your lips and licking your tongue until your pussy stops spasming around his gorgeous cock.
Sukuna doesn't let go of you even when you pull away from your long kiss. His strong hands are sprawled over your hips, keeping you in place right where he wants you, on his lap, on his cock.
The nightly city is glittering beautifully outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, but you only have eyes for Sukuna. He looks so beautiful, his hair slightly ruffled from your fingers running through it, his maroon eyes filled with love, and his handsome face relaxed.
The smile on his face is so attractive and boyish that it makes butterflies flutter in your stomach. A soft laugh escapes his lips before he tells you in that warm, velvety voice,
"Thank you, my love, for helping me take the edge off after such a stressful day. You're so good for Daddy."
AAAHHH YAKUZA KING SUKUNA MY LOVE!!! It was so comforting to write for him again after such a long time!! Thank you so much for requesting him!! I hope he made you happy too 💗
Comments and reblogs would be sweet!!
#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna smut#sukuna fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x y/n#jjk x y/n
906 notes
·
View notes
Note
oh so people getting bold in the requests?? CONNIE AND ONY THREESOME??🌚
THISSS THE ONEEEEE. I BEEN THINKIMG AB THIS FOR WEEKSSSSSS. ima doooo mob boyfriends!ony and connie since it’s been in my brain for a minute😛😛😛😩😛😛😛😩😛😩😩
ours
cw: polygamous relationship!!!
word count: 2.1k
part 2
── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────
your boyfriends were feared by many. mean and dangerous men that nobody ever dared to question. they were the monsters the kids hid from and the bad men parents want far away from their daughters. you, on the other hand, were the complete opposite. everyone always seemed to gravitate towards you due to your kind and caring nature. you made people feel safe and welcomed no matter what they may be going through.
when you’re out with connie and ony, strangers would have to sometimes do a double take to make sure what they’re seeing is real. a soft and sweet looking girl wearing cute little outfits with pretty colors being accompanied by two brooding men on either side of her, wearing no other colors but black and grey. it was not a normal sight to see. “ooouuu what about this one papi. you said i look pretty in blue.”
the three of you were currently in a boutique in the mall. looking for different dresses to add to your never ending collection. connie, your more lenient partner, stood with his finger curled on his chin, thinking about the different looks you could achieve with the dress “hmmm it’s aight. i think you should get sum tighter.” you rolled your eyes, putting the dress back on the rack before walking to the next section.
“you only saying that so you can look at my ass.” before you could get far you felt a soft tug on your arm. “rolling your eyes is rude. i told you ‘bout that.” ony grumbled, staring down at your smaller figure. ony was the strict boyfriend. even though both of them were pretty stern, ony was the one that kept both you and connie in check sometimes since connie had a tendency of letting you off easy.
“sorry sorry…geez.” you sigh. he let go of your arm and the three of you continued your search for some new appliances. as you walked to your next store you notice a familiar man standing by the pretzel shop. “sean?” the brownskin male lifted his head from his phone, bright smile immediately forming on his face as he spotted the source of the voice. “y/n?? oh my god hey sugeeee? how you been?” you squealed before running into the arms of your old friend.
you and sean were friends in high school who drifted away from each other since he moved away. “boy what you doing back in town? and why didn’t you call meeee?” as the two of you spoke ony and connie stood annoyed behind you. they were holding all of your bags as they watched this random guy practically eye fuck you every time you happened to be looking away. you were too oblivious for your own good.
“well it was nice seein you boo. hope we could stay in touch.” sean licked his lips, looking down at you as he opened his arms for a hug. you gladly stepped into the embrace for a couple seconds before trying to pull away, but you froze as you felt a palm on you ass. “uhh sean?” “huh? oh my bad y/n you know my arms are long.” you hid your uncomfortableness with a laugh as you moved back to go rejoin your boyfriends.
as soon as you turned around they were already by your side, staring daggers into the boy. “you wanna die nigga?” ony said before grabbing sean by his collar and pushing him on a nearby wall. sweat began to bead all over his forehead as he tried to plead with your man. “n-nah man ian mean t’do that i swear.” connie stood by you, arms wrapped around your shoulder as he held you to his chest. “bet not have or so help me god i will cut that hand off so fast. get the fuck outta here before i kill you.” connie added.
sean’s body dropped to the ground as ony abruptly let him go. he ran away and didn’t look back as he disappeared from your sight. when you got home you could tell they were a bit upset about the situation that happened at the mall so you decided that maybe you could do something to make them feel better. you ran to your room, putting on a pretty lingerie set before quietly making your way back downstairs. the boys were on the game, cursing each other out before you stood in all your glory in front of the tv.
“how i look?” you asked shyly, arms crossed over your chest to hide some of the skin from them. “move your hands baby. let papi see.” “yea no need t’be shy mama. it’s just us.” your boyfriends rose from the couch, standing in either side of you as they each pulled one of your arms from your chest. “you so pretty baby. making me real hard lookin at you.” connie mumbled while palming himself through his sweats. you squeezed your legs together at the sight before your attention was put on ony. “go upstairs ma.”
your hurried upstairs, sitting in the middle of your california king bed as you waited for your men to arrive. they walked in with a pair of fuzzy cuffs and a vibrator, both of their tattooed chests on full display for you as they approached the edge of the bed. “c’mere pretty girl” connie’s smooth voice rang in your ears, coaxing you to crawl to the edge of the bed. you sat on yours knees as you looked up at him. “gon be good for us, right?” his inked hand held your chin, lightly caressing your cheek as you nodded your head.
ony then softly moved your head towards him, giving you a kiss on the lips before giving you your first instructions. “turn around and arch your back mama.” you did as you were told. arching as deep you could before you felt your hands being bound behind your back by the cuffs. “gon make you feel so good mami.” connie said as you began to feel the bed dip. he made his way in front of your head, pants long abandoned as he sat in front of you in his briefs.
you moaned as you felt ony lick a long stripe up your pussy, stopping at your entrance to penetrate you with his tongue. “f-fuck daddy.” and sharp smack was delivered to your ass, connie’s light brown eyes scolding you. “watch ya mouth pretty. don’t wanna have to gag you.” your apology got stuck in your throat as you felt ony begin roughly sucking on your clit, connie lifted the front of your body up so he could slap his tip against your mouth before looking up at ony.
“ready?” the two of them nodded to each other before both thrusting into you fully, making you gag and moan at the same time. connie’s pace on your throat was slow rather than the quick deep strokes your other boyfriend settled for. “feel so good mama. gon make daddy nut fast if you keep squeezin like that.” your body was already feeling hot as you felt ony’s hands roam all over you.
running all over your back, softly touching all your rolls and dips. connie hand was buried in your hair, guiding your head up and down his shaft before occasionally pulling it out to slap it across your tongue. “eres guapa.” he sighed. your eyes were low and unfocused. your pink tongue hung from your parted lips, letting your drool fall all over his pink tip. you looked so fucked out and they’ve barley even touched you.
“mi niña bonita.” your moans went straight to his dick as you felt ony pull out of you. he got on his knees and began fingering you as a slow pace, digging into you softly before placing the vibrator on your clit. your body jerked at the sudden stimulation, pussy fluttering before his eyes as you whined onto connie’s dick. “i know princess, feel you squeezin around my fingers.” ony dug rougher into you as he turned the vibrator up to a higher setting.
your lips disconnected from connie with a pop before you gasped loudly. “r-right there daddy ohmygod.” your hips moved on their own. gravitating towards ony’s fingers to get him deeper into you. “you like how daddy makes you feel, pretty? like when he touches that spot right here?” connie said as he was now next to you, hand outstretched under you on your lower stomach as began to push on it. “answer me baby. tell daddy thank you for making you feel so good.”
connie whispered, giving you a light smack on your ass, dragging more moans out of you before you looked back at your boyfriends. their brown eyes stared right back at you as they waited for you to comply. “t-thank you d-daddy. c-can i cum?” the vibrator was soon removed from your clit as his fingers began moving in and out at a quick pace. “my pleasure mama, but not yet. how bout you get on your back. you want papi t’feel good too, right?”
ony said. his fingers left you empty before you turned around on your back. ony and connie gave each other knowing looks after looking at your confused face. why were the cuffs still on? “cant have you pushin on my stomach princess.” he mumbled as if he were reading your mind. him and ony switched places. light brown dick tapping against your clit as ony’s laid flat on your lips. “open up mama.” as your mouth slowly opened and he began thrusting into your mouth, you felt your other lover slap his tip all over your wet pussy.
your arousal splashing onto your thighs as your boyfriend watched strings of it connect him to you. connie sunk into you slowly, dick dragging against your wet walls until stopping at the hilt. your pretty moans were muffled by the thick dick between your lips, but the vibration of them sent shivers flying down ony’s spine. “s-shit. keep fuckin her like that baby. your mouth feel so good mama.” connie nodded his head in compliance, pushing into you the same way over and over again.
pace slow and steady as your wetness began to drip onto the sheets. “fuckkk mami. you so fucking wet f’me.” you felt your orgasm nearing as connie continued fucking into you slowly. his pace never faltering as ony watched his lip get buried behind his teeth. he was trying his best to listen to his lover, but the slow pace was killing him. “i-i can’t pa i wanna go faster.” he breathed, but was quickly met with ony’s hand on his. darker skin caressing his as he looked him in the eyes. “what’d i say?” ony said sternly.
“you said keep fucking her slow like this, but-” “but nothing. if that’s what i said then you gon listen right? or do i gotta teach you after m’finished wit her.” the interaction made your pussy flutter in a way that caused connie’s eyes to roll back. you were close to the edge and your squeezing made him closer as well. “n-no pa hah- m’listenin’.”connie moaned as his other hand found its was to your throat, squeezing it slightly to make it tighter for ony’s dick.
“good boy fuck-” ony groaned as he felt his end nearing. thrusting into your mouth with a little more vigor as his hot ropes slid down your throat. soon later you came, juices pouring out of you and onto the sheets as you shook around connie’s dick. “f-fuck m’gonna cum m’gonna cum princess.” connie moaned, picking up his pace as he rubbed on your clit. you screamed as more juices rushed out of you, spraying his stomach and thighs as he thrusted one more time and stilled, cumming deep inside of you.
all three of you stayed where you were as you caught your breath. “let’s get you cleaned up mama.” ony signed. the two of them made sure to clean the sheets before running you a nice bath. both standing at the door, watching you relax. connie’s head whipped towards ony when he felt a hand on his lower back. “you didn’t listen t’me earlier don’t think i forgot. ima deal wit you later.” he mumbled before walking off to go handle business downstairs.
connie’s eyes widened as he felt his dick jump in his pajama pants. “papi can you wash my back?” your voice startled him out of his thoughts, making him jump a little before smiling and walking towards your naked figure in the tub. “of course mi vida. anything for you.”
#aot onyankopon#onyankopon x black reader#aot x black reader#onyankopon x reader#aot#aot connie#connie springer#aot smut#connie x black!reader#onyankopon x black!reader#connie x black reader#x black reader#onyankopon smut#connie smut#connie springer x black reader#connie#onyankopon#connie springer x black!reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Flowery peace offering
Summary: You are not in the mood for bad jokes.
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Pregnant!Reader (girlfriend)
Warnings: a lil angst, pregnant reader, redemption, Lloyd being a horny bastard (implied)
Catch up here: Plant Theft
A/N: Please consider I mostly do not write canon Lloyd.
“Come on, cupcake. You need new clothes,” Lloyd tuts. “I won’t tell you twice. I took a week off to take care of you.”
You’d rather stay at home, snuggled in your favorite blanket. “It’s the least I can expect after you were away for almost a month. I had to go to the latest ultrasound alone.”
Lloyd sighs deeply. You pout and cross your arms over your grown belly, pushing your tits up. His eyes darken, and he cups his crotch.
Since he got to know that you are pregnant, he’s horny all the time. Not that he wasn’t a horny bastard before you got pregnant.
“Cupcake, if you keep on presenting the goods on a silver plate, we will never make it to the boutique. Now, get up and in the car. You’re wearing one of my shirts and sweatpants.”
“But…but…it’s comfortable and I don’t wanna go shopping,” you stick your tongue out. “I only wanna sit here and have a snack. Maybe you are allowed to cuddle me too.”
“Cuddle you, huh?” He grins, as his eyes drop to your cleavage again. Lloyd licks his lips and hums. “Muffin, we will go shopping. No discussion. If you don’t get up, I’ll carry you out of the house.”
You grumble under your breath but push the warm blanket off your body, revealing your baby bump to your boyfriend. He sucks in a breath and curses. “Damn, you look ready to get eaten.”
“Help me up,” you mutter as Lloyd is busy staring at your tits and belly. “Lloyd, help me up. I can’t get up today.”
He snickers at your predicament. The sofa is too comfy, and you don’t have the energy to get up on your own. “Aw, look at my pretty muffin stuffed with a sweet Lloyd filling…”
“No…just no,” you hate looking in the mirror today. You love your baby bump and feeling the new life growing in your belly. But today you don’t feel comfortable trying new clothes on. “It doesn’t fit. It’s too small.”
“The changing cubicle or the pants?” Lloyd jokes.
“What?” You poke your head out of the changing cubicle to glare at Lloyd. “Did you really just say that? How dare you! I didn’t want to come here and try stupid pants on.”
You shove the pants down your thighs, wiggling them down to throw the fabric at Lloyd.
“Muffin, I tried to be funny!” Lloyd raises his hands in surrender while you throw all the clothes you want to try on at him.
“I’m done here,” you grunt. “I won’t try more clothes on. I want to go home right now!”
“Cupcake? Muffin?” He steps toward the changing cubicle. “I didn’t mean it that way. Baby? Y/N?”
“Forget it!” You storm out of the changing cubicle, walking past Lloyd. “I will never talk to you again.”
Lloyd pokes his head inside the bedroom. “Baby muffin? Cupcake?” He sighs deeply. You didn’t talk to him for almost five hours. “You know that my humor is not for everyone. Cupcake, you are beautiful to me. Even more, since you are having my baby.
You pout and refuse to look at Lloyd. “Go away.” You snap at him. “I don’t want you near me tonight.”
“I got something for you, wait…” He opens the bedroom door to push a serving trolley filled with plants into the bedroom.
“What?” You glance at the plants and flowers on the trolley. “You can’t buy my forgiveness with flowers.”
“Plants, muffin,” he corrects. “Look, I know my joke wasn’t funny. I didn’t want to hurt you, baby cakes.” Lloyd turns around to walk back outside only to carry a huge flower hamper inside. “I got more, wait…”
“Lloyd,” your eyes get glassy seeing all the plants and flowers Lloyd carries inside the room. Within a few minutes, the room is filled with plants and flowers. “What did you do? Be honest.” You push the covers off you to kneel on the bed. Looking at all the plants and flowers you frown. “Lloyd, did you rob a flower shop?”
“Muffin, I’m not a criminal,” he tuts. “Maybe I threatened another customer because they wanted to buy one of the plants I wanted. But that’s all.”
“Hmmm…you are not forgiven,” you point your index finger at Lloyd. “But I accept your peace offering. Raise me to food, and you are allowed to share the bed with me.”
Lloyd grins. He gives you a wink before jumping on the bed. “Does this include letting me eat your sweet muffin?”
“We will see…”
#lloyd hansen#lloyd hansen x female!reader#lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd hansen x you#lloyd hansen x y/n#female reader#pregnant reader
496 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 | 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬
ʚ harry styles x female reader
ʚ you know well enough no matter how hard you try, your daily walks in london with harry will never be private
ʚ slight angst but not really? protective H, but also some good ol sweetness
ʚ not requested, just felt like writing a little something and it’s pretty bad but idk🙃
The weather in London had been surprisingly nice so far for fall, the sun shining and gentle breeze filtering through the still changing leaves was enough of an incentive to get you and Harry out the door for your daily walk. Luckily not far was a fall market, so the plan was to grab your oat latte’s from your favourite cafe and head towards the vendors stands.
“You ready to go H?”
Your hands fixing your vest as it rested over your (harry’s) oversized sweater, opting to dress a bit more comfy and casual
“M’just grabbing my phone then i’m good”
Soon enough he wandered into the front entrance, sunglasses in hand, as he smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips
“Ready”
“Shall we?”
Taking your hand he nodded, opening the door to your apartment and leading you out, making sure to lock the door before you both took off down the elevator and out onto the somewhat quiet streets of your neighbourhood. Thankfully you didn’t need to go towards super central London otherwise you’d have avoided the market all together.
“Seems quite quiet today don’t you think baby?”
Harry hummed
“A bit, but you know it’s never really quiet for us” his voice held an anxious undertone which made you frown
“I know, but i’m safe with you and we know what to do if it ever gets too crazy”
Three weeks prior the two of you had been caught downtown where it was way busier than expected and you ended up seeking refuge in a small boutique until Harry’s security team could show up, needless to say your boyfriend was not impressed and you stayed at home the next couple days afterwards.
“I’m still sorry for that”
A frown etched across your face once again
“My love you don’t need to apologize for something you have no control over…i’m safe, i’m not hurt and you aren’t either…I promise you do not need to apologize to me”
Even if you both were hesitant around pda, Harry leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your lips, eliciting a happy sigh from you. The walk towards the market was nice, not many people, and when you arrived it wasn’t packed either.
“Oh H look they’ve got the chilli oil we’ve been trying to find”
Harry followed you towards the stand, eyes still scanning the area to make sure the two of you were okay
“Why don’t we get a few of them?”
You smiled
“Good idea!”
Paying the lady she bid you both goodbye as you kept wandering. A few people starting to notice Harry Styles was now walking amongst them, it wasn’t until you took his hand and squeezed it that he figured out you were starting to get uncomfortable.
“I think i’ve got everything,can we go?”
“Course we can”
His arm wound it’s way around your waist, tucking you into his side as you walked away from the farmers market, his fingers tapping your hip gently as a way to calm both himself and you down, both of you not a fan of the constant shadows that followed the two of you around. It wasn’t until a few voices begun to call his name that he stopped turning to face them
“Can you guys please not do that? It’s making my girlfriend and I uncomfortable.”
The two people with camera’s that had been following you stopped, both of them looked to be in their teens, it almost made you feel bad but at the end of the day, some people did forget Harry was human and wasn’t mean to be followed around like a lost dog.
“Oh sorry!”
“We didn’t mean too!”
Nodding he sent them a brief smile
“Thank you, enjoy your day.”
You smiled at the two teens as they walked away, obviously feeling bad for upsetting Harry
“You alright lovie?”
He nodded
“Yeah, just-I just hate that”
“I understand, we’re almost home and then it’ll be just the two of us”
He was more than happy to get home and cuddled up on the couch, the two of you going through another rerun of gossip girl as the weather begun to get colder. You’d bring down the fluffiest blankets and set up some snacks just to have a quiet afternoon which were always your favourites.
“I’m sorry about that again by the way”
“Not your fault baby, it happens, i’m used to it, and you always keep me safe so really, everything is okay”
Hearing confirmation was enough for Harry to press a kiss to your temple as you continued making your way home, excited to get out of the public eye and just enjoy some quality time away from the constant watching eyes.
#rueswrites#ruesanswers#ruesanons<3#ruesasks#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x girlfriend reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x female reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x wife reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic
493 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Rarity, can I please go home now?" You asked, voice strained.
Even if the pain in your voice wasn't obvious, it should have been just from looking at you - which Rarity had been for the past several hours! Your hearing was slightly muffled from how flat your ears were pressed against your skull. Occasionally, you'd weakly lift one hoof off the ground for momentary relief, praying that the other three wouldn't give out. If you weren't held up by obligation to your friend, you were sure you'd have slumped to the floor of the platform in exhaustion.
"Oh, but where would I be without my muse?" The mare whirled around from her sewing machine.
Biting back a sneer, you held back your frustration. Something about Rarity simply getting a new muse was held in your jaws like a steel trap. But, you couldn't do that. A heavy sigh heaved out through your snout.
Rarity was your friend. Someone who was always generous and loving toward you, as a good friend should be. It's only fair for you to give her just as much in return. Not only that, but she was an Element of Harmony and owner of two different boutiques. To say she had quite a bit of social standing now was an understatement. Not that you think she'd ever use that against you… No. Never. Not Rarity.
"I'm almost done, dearest, I assure you," the mare promised before turning to look outside. Complete darkness. Her eyes widened, a gasp escaping her. "Oh my, I completely lost track of time. My sincerest apologies, darling!"
A sigh escaped you, your irritation leaving with it. Of course, it wasn't intentional. Rarity would never do this on purpose. Accidents happen. And hay, it'd be over soon, right? With a smile and nod, you waved her off with a shaky foreleg.
"Don't worry about it," you assured. "I just need to get home soon."
"Oh… I don't think that'd be a good idea. It's far too dark out now, I'd feel awful having you leave on your own. How about you stay the night?"
"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose…"
"Of course!" Rarity whinnied, trotting over to look up at you. "It's been some time since I've had a sleepover, and there's nopony I'd rather spend time with than my muse."
You watched as Rarity reached up for you, feeling the soft underside of her hoof cup the side of your face, gently stroking your fur. You couldn't help the smile and slight flush that rushed to your cheeks. Rarity always made you feel like a star, the most important pony in the room. And she was so comforting... You leaned into her touch and, just for a moment, allowed yourself to close your eyes...
You felt the world go off balance, wobbly legs giving out from under you as you went careening toward the floor. A cry of surprise escaped Rarity. The floor rushed up to you, nothing underneath you and legs too weak to catch your fall- oh, this was gonna smart!
But, suddenly, everything stilled, as if time itself stopped. Your vision was filtered through a blue hue. Darting your eyes around to get your bearings, you spotted the mare. Her face was twisted in concentration and her horn covered in a blue aura. Rarity… Rarity had saved you!
With great effort, she slowly lowered you to the ground by her side. Immediately, she pressed herself up against you for you to lean on. The feeling of her fur was so warm against your own. The moment you were released from her aura, you fell against her.
"Rarity," you mumbled, pressing the side of your face against hers. You were so tired…
"Let's get you to bed, dearest," you heard her say. "You can take my bed. You've more than earned it."
You could barely walk, let alone reply or keep your eyes open. You let her guide you through the boutique, helping you gently up the stairs before eventually you found it. Salvation. The feeling of a soft mattress and satin sheets and even better, nothing under your hooves for you to keep yourself held up.
Rarity held herself back from squealing or jumping for joy in her excitement. It worked! Her plan worked! Ah, but, how could it not have? Finally, Her beloved muse would never leave her again. Oh, how she adored you.
And how glad she was that you were far too exhausted to even notice the shackles that clasped around your hooves, secured by a bedpost.
Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, she whispered a wish for sweet dreams. And in the morning, you'd start the rest of your lives together.
A happily ever after. Just like she'd always dreamed of.
#yandere x reader#yandere mlp#mlp x reader#yandere rarity#rarity x reader#yandere rarity x reader#yandere mlp x reader#my little pony x reader#yandere my little pony#x reader#yandere#yandere imagines
450 notes
·
View notes
Note
do u have any sort of website that can tell me jobs in a small town? trying to write a story set in a small town but i cant come up with any ideas for jobs apart from the essential ones like police or hospital
Jobs in a Small Town
Government: mayor, city manager, city council member, city attorney, city clerk, code enforcement officer, customer service representative, finance director, fire chief/firefighter, paramedic, human resources manager, information technology department, librarian, municipal court clerk/administrator/judicial specialist/court security officer, parks and recreation director, planning and zoning director, police chief/officer or sheriff/deputy, public works director, utilities clerk, wastewater plant operator
Business: business owner/operator or employee (such as a clerk, receptionist, manager, or administrator) at a shop, restaurant, cafe, gas station, mechanic, tow truck, locksmith, landscaper/lawn care, handyman, florist, funeral home, pool cleaner, daycare center, grocery store, feed and pet store, car dealership, clothing boutique, ice cream parlor, liquor store, bar, nightclub, community theater, "big box store" (like Walmart), warehouse store (like Costco), movie theater, mini-golf course
Medical Services: hospital (administration, doctor, surgeon, nurse practitioner, nurse, nurse's aide, respiratory therapist, anesthesiologist, orderly, receptionist, lab worker, security, etc.) Doctor's office or urgent care (administration, doctor, nurse, nurse practitioner, receptionist, etc.) Dentist or orthodontist (administration, dentist/orthodontist, dental assistant, orthodontic assistant, receptionist, etc.) Nursing home/assisted living facility (administration, doctor, nurse, orderly, etc.)
Random: country club employee, dog walker, babysitter/nanny, home nurse, museum director/curator/specialist/employee, town archaeologist (if area is rich in history), industrial jobs (mining, factories/manufacturing, farming/crop production, fishing/fisheries), wedding coordinator, convention center director, attorney, judge, taxi driver, utility repair technician, railway worker, bus driver, school jobs (principal, teacher, teacher's aide, librarian, cafeteria worker, counselor, security officer, custodian), airport jobs (administrative, security, service provider/employee, airline worker, pilot, flight attendant, plane mechanic)
That's all I've got at the moment, but keep an eye on the comments in case others come up with ideas! :)
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!
Visit my FAQ
Find answers fast on my Master List of Top Posts
Go to ko-fi.com/wqa to buy me coffee or see my commissions
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
ripper / damon salvatore x reader
this was inspired by this blog post !!! idk if this is really what you wanted but this is where the spirit moved me lol - I hope everyone enjoys! as always lmk what you think!
ripper / damon salvatore x reader
summary: Stefan flipped his switch and you and Damon have been trying your hardest to bring him home... but Stefan has other ideas.
word count: 1.9k
warnings: typical tvdu stuff (blood, fear, pain, etc)
“Goodnight, Linda! I’ll see you next week,” you called out as you pushed the door to the boutique open, letting it shut behind you as you crossed the street to find your car. Your mind was swimming with unanswered questions, things in Mystic Falls had been topsy-turvy since Stefan flipped his switch and skipped town with Klaus. You and Damon had been hunting down every lead while keeping it from Elena, encouraging her to move on while the two of you ignored your own hypocrisy as you refused to do the same. On top of every dead end or trip down south to cover up the carnage Stefan left in his wake there was something brewing just beneath the surface with Damon the two of you were refusing to acknowledge. It wasn’t the time, there was too much on your plates but it didn’t stop the tension that seeped into every late night you spent with him poring over files Sheriff Forbes had given you.
You unlocked your car as it came into view, listening to the chirps echo down the empty street but stopped in your tracks when a figure appeared before you, “Stefan?” you asked, hope filling your voice but it faded just as soon as it had appeared when you looked into his eyes… so cold and dark, unlike the ones you’d come to know. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you.”
“I know,” he answered, “I’m here to tell you to stop.”
“Come on, Stefan… let us help you, I can help you,” you pleaded and he just chuckled darkly. He was someone you used to trust implicitly, he’d saved you from sudden death time and time again, taken you in and given you a home when Klaus had killed your parents to prove a point but this was not the Stefan you knew.
“You can help me, sweetheart,” he said, fingers trailing along your collarbone and you felt sick to your stomach at his touch. “God, have I been dying to know what you taste like,” he muttered mostly to himself. You thought about running, but it was pointless… you thought about screaming for help, but he’d just kill whoever showed up… Damon. Damon was at the grill, just a handful of yards away. “So many nights hearing that heartbeat just down the hallway, like a siren call. How stupid was I to resist?” he asked rhetorically and while his attention was focused on the pulsing of your neck you slowly pulled your phone from your back pocket, dialing Damon’s number and praying to whatever god was listening that you didn’t hit the wrong buttons.
“So, what’s the plan, Stefan? Just going to kill me right here in front of the grill?” you asked, voice wavering as you tried to stall him. “Who are you trying to send a message to? Damon? Elena?” He growled in response.
“Maybe the message is for you,” he said, hand closing around your throat. “Did you think I wouldn’t know you’ve been helping him? That it wasn’t you who’s been covering my tracks?” he asked but you couldn’t answer. His hand disappeared and you sucked in a breath only to let out a cry of pain as he gripped your wrist, pulling your phone into view before he pried it out and you felt your bones crack under the pressure as he tossed it aside. “Stupid girl, are you trying to make this easier on me?”
“So this is hard for you?” you asked, clinging onto that as you took a step back and tried to ignore the pain in your wrist. “Good, lean into it. You don’t want to kill me, even with your humanity off you can’t tell me you don’t miss the fun we used to have together… dancing with Lexi to Bon Jovi, crushing Elena and Jeremy at pool…” you trailed off, trying to spark something in him. “Just, come home, Stefan. Let me help you, everything can go back to how it was.”
“Yes, I really do, because the real fun is what I’ve been denying myself all this time.” he sneered and you felt a gush of wind behind you.
“Whoa brother, just take it easy,” you heard Damon say and suddenly you were flipped around with your back pressed against Stefan, his arm a vice grip around your waist as his other hand held onto your throat.
“You really should have stopped looking for me,” Stefan growled as you squirmed in his grasp, pain radiating through your arm as you struggled for air. “I don’t want to be found.”
“Yet you came all this way to Mystic Falls, to the middle of the town square. That doesn’t scream don’t find me,” Damon pointed out, taking a step closer but he stopped in his tracks when you let out a cry as the grip around you tightened. Damon could hear your heart thudding against your ribcage, quick and uneven as your eyes pleaded with him to do something.
“Had to deliver a message,” Stefan responded. “But now that I’m here, she is a lot of fun, isn’t she, brother? Always was so brave, even in the face of death,” he chuckled as he brushed your hair from your neck. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it,” he taunted.
“Just let her go, we can talk this out… come to an understanding,” Damon said, slowly taking another step. He’d never felt so helpless, like control was slipping through his fingers like sand.
“Oh, I’m not in the mood for talking,” he replied and you felt his lips kiss along your carotid artery and you stiffened in his grasp before thrashing against him. “So responsive,” he chuckled and anger flared in Damon’s chest at the sight. “Come on, Damon… all this time you’ve been pushing me to have more fun, now you want to stop me?”
“You want real fun? You’re not going to find it here in Mystic Falls,” he said, gesturing to the empty town around him. “Let’s go on a good old fashioned brotherly road trip, find some girls that actually enjoy being fed on,” he said, and you didn’t miss the desperation in his voice as you tried to calm your breathing and focus on anything other than the ache throbbing in your wrist. Stefan wasn’t swayed and you let out a pained cry as his fangs sunk into your neck, opening you up as he drank you in and you struggled in his arms.
“Stefan- don’t,” you choked out, fighting against him. Your words came out strained as blood poured from your neck and you felt tears slipping down your cheeks. “Elena will… she’ll never forgive you.”
“She’s right, brother. Just let her go, we can make this all go away,” Damon pleaded and he knew you didn’t have much time before he ripped your head off. You were already starting to go limp in his arms and Damon’s eyes were apologetic as he looked at you but you didn’t have enough time to process what it meant before you were flying through the air and hitting the ground with a thud that winded you. You groaned as you lifted your arms to press against the wound in your neck, each nerve ending protesting with a fiery jolt of pain as you tried to control the bleeding.
You couldn’t see anything, couldn’t move… all you could hear was a crack in the distance as your eyes fluttered closed before you felt your body being tugged upright. “Come on, drink…” Damon said, shaking you softly and when you didn’t respond he shook you harder. “You don’t get to do this, damn it! Drink,” he said again and your eyes opened as you wrapped your lips around his wrist, letting the sickly sweet liquid slide down your throat. You were alone again, vaguely making out Damon on the phone with somebody before you lost consciousness.
“Hey, hey, easy, you’re safe now,” you heard as you sat up in bed, startled as your eyes darted around and you saw you were back in your room at the boarding house. Damon was looking down at you intensely as tried to ease you into laying back down but you just shook your head.
“Where is he?” you asked frantically, “please tell me we didn’t lose him.”
“He’s in the cellar,” he answered. You let yourself relax a little at this, knowing the hope you’d been clinging to all summer seemed a little more realistic now. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered and your face twisted in confusion. “This is all my fault.”
“What? Damon, this isn’t your fault,” you tried but he just shook his head.
“He knew the way to get to me was through you, I shouldn’t… he didn’t want to be found, I shouldn’t have pushed,” he said and your eyes softened as you took him in. He looked exhausted and the faint light peeking around your curtains let you know he must have been waiting a while for you to wake up.
“He knew I was helping you, this was as much a message for you as it was for me,” you replied. “I’ll be okay.”
“But you’re not right now,” he said and you smiled sadly.
“But I will be,” you reassured, “nobody said bringing a ripper back from the depths of inhumanity would be easy.”
“I’m so sorry,” he repeated and you just wrapped your arms around him, letting yourself move to straddle his hips to pull him closer into you. “You don’t deserve this, I… I should have protected you better. I can’t lose you,” he muttered into your chest as his arms snaked around your waist and held you tight.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you said and he pulled back to look up at you, eyes swimming with emotion.
“You… you mean too much to me,” he said, fingers brushing your hair behind your ear before cupping your jaw. “I can’t lose you,” he repeated.
“And you won’t,” you promised, eyes sad as you knew this wasn’t really a promise you could keep, but you would try… for him. You let your fingers thread through his hair as you held him close, needing the comfort right now as much as he did. Putting on a brave face was what you were good at, you seemed to face a new evil every week in this town but this was different… This was Stefan, one of your closest friends who used you to prove a point, who made it look so easy to bring you within an inch of your life. You needed Damon as much as he needed you and with someone downstairs locked in a cell who was so important to the both of you, you didn’t have any fight left in you to pretend you didn’t need him.
“I love you,” he muttered against your skin and your heart skipped a beat, wondering if you’d heard him correctly. “I won’t let him hurt you ever again, I’m so sorry.” You shifted, leaning back to look down at him and those intense blue eyes held so much emotion you felt your heart crack wide open.
“Damon-” you started but he cut you off by cupping your face and pulling you down to meet his lips. You responded immediately, letting your lips move in tandem with his before pulling back breathless.
“I love you,” he repeated as you rested your forehead against his.
“I love you too,” you responded, letting yourself smile genuinely for the first time all summer. “We’re going to get your brother back, okay? We’ll get him back and everything will be okay.”
taglist: @caseysalvatore @minalblood @styxfly (if you’re name is struck through it means I couldn’t tag you - sorry!)
tagging you because you inspired this one! @tmhxll
#damon salvatore#damon salvatore x reader#damon salvatore x you#damon salvatore x y/n#damon salvatore fluff#damon salvatore fanfiction#damon salvatore fan fiction#the vampire diaries#the vampire diaries fan fiction#the vampire diaries fanfiction
534 notes
·
View notes
Text
⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐀 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤
Luck and fate often went hand in hand — it was no different on that very first day that you met Bucky. The moment he walked into your haven was the moment that everything changed. You gained a best friend, and something much, much more.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑��𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈
☘︎ Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕
☘︎ 1.7k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔
☘︎ Tooth rotting fluff, meet cute
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆
☘︎ I literally cried while writing the end of this fic, I am not shitting you. This is so close to my heart and I just can't.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔
☘︎ Ecstasy by Crooked Still
☘︎ Shrike by Hozier
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕
☘︎ @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer
჻჻჻ Week 8 — "How did you meet?"
— Masterlist
𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Slow days were a favourite of yours, especially when Bucky was in town and free to laze about – just as the mountain of a man was doing currently, laying back on his favourite couch in the reading nook, while Koda and Sarge slept soundly at his feet.
The frown of concentration on his lips was adorable, and you couldn’t help but sneak glances between cleaning and preparing orders. Pages rustled as he turned them, and you could hear little hums of surprise or grumbles of annoyance between. It was endearing.
Suddenly, a loud chime sounded from the entry of your store, and you glanced up to the doorway to see an elderly couple slowly making their way into the warmth of your haven. Bucky put down his book hastily and got to his feet, startling Koda and Sarge who huffed and growled their annoyance.
“Down,” Bucky scolded, and he looked up to the elderly couple. “Hello,” he greeted, “I’ll take your coats.”
“Thank you, young man,” the woman replied, her smile bright.
You couldn’t help the way your heart swelled at the sight of Bucky gently taking the couple’s coats and hanging them up on the hook.
“Welcome,” you said, and the couple looked towards you. “It’s good to see you. What can I get for you today?”
Their order was a simple one, and you set to work as Bucky helped them to a booth. “It’s such a lovely place,” the woman said, “the folk are real kind, and you, young man, are handsome.”
Bucky baulked and chuckled awkwardly.
“I know,” you called, and you looked up from the coffee machine to see Bucky staring at you, eyes slightly wide. “That’s why I snapped him up.”
“Good for you, sweetie,” the man spoke up, winking. “He’s a charmer. How did you two meet?”
For a second, you held your gaze on Bucky’s face, watching his blush grow with a smug sense of pride. “See, he was a bit of an asshole to begin with…”
It was opening day. The day that you had longed for ever since moving into the adorable small town that would now be your home, and your haven – a small store that you had big dreams for.
Coffee, books, and baking had been your life line, and for all you had worked for to scrounge and save for years, your hard work had paid off in the form of a bricked and ivory shopfront. The inside was perfect with warm tones, bookshelves and display cases had already been installed – ready to be filled to the brim with your treats and library of books.
“You ready?” a voice said from beside you, and you grinned. It was Wanda – a friend you had grown close to in the small amount of time you’d spent exploring the town, and since you had found her flower boutique, it had been nothing but soft words of encouragement and love that kept you going.
“Absolutely.” Wanda’s arm extended out to you, an offering of comfort, and you looped your own through it. “Let’s get those doors open.”
The inside was all stocked and ready to go – tables and chairs and booths all set up from the work you had put in yesterday, all that was needed? The smell of a fresh brew to entice the townsfolk to step in and venture into new territory.
“It’s beautiful, babe,” Wanda gasped, her hand automatically going to feel the soft touch of cotton on the comfortable chairs. “You did amazing.”
“Thank you,” you replied, grinning. “Would you like the honours of the first cup ‘a joe?”
“Damn right I would.”
Steam filled the air and you hummed as you worked the machine. Wanda had wandered through the shop and taken a seat in a booth facing the window, her eyes bright with wonder and curiosity. “Oh, babe, you’re about to have your first customer!” she gushed.
You looked up from the cup just in time to see the door swing open to reveal two men. Both of which towered in height and filled the doorway with their size – they looked like mountains. Very attractive mountains.
“Steve!” Wanda gasped. “Bucky, it’s so good to see you back.”
The blond, of which you guessed was Steve, smiled at Wanda and wandered into your shop, his gaze roving over the decorations. “Hey, Wands,” Steve greeted, his voice deep and raspy. “It’s good to be back–found this new addition to the lot, and we couldn’t help but stop in. Could use a cup.”
“She makes the best, I swear,” Wanda praised.
You smiled as you tidied your station, cup in hand. “On it,” you piped up, “Wands, it’s ready.”
Rounding the counter, you came right next to Steve and the dark-haired man behind him – which you assumed was Bucky – and it was all you could do to keep your gasp inaudible and your knees from buckling, they were in fact huge, and they smelled of fresh pine and smoked cedar. Keep it together, you scolded yourself.
“So,” you began, placing Wanda’s cup in front of her and then turning to face the two men. “What can I get you?”
Steve recited what seemed to be his usual order, and then Bucky piped up, “Just black for me, doll. Thanks.”
Oh, boy, you thought.
The machine hissed and whirred as you prepared the two coffees, and you had a moment to take in the two of them. “Are you both–?”
“They’re lumberjacks, and brilliant ones at that,” Wanda cut in, eyeing you over the rim of her cup with a suspicious glint in her eyes. “And they both have the most adorable babies.”
“Babies?” you questioned, raising a brow.
“Fur babies,” Steve insisted, staring at Wanda. “And they’re in the truck.”
“Oh my god,” you rushed, “you have dogs?”
Bucky snorted behind Steve and shook his head. “Yeah,” Bucky rumbled, “and they’re a fuckin’ handful.”
“This shop is dog friendly, please,” you pleaded, and Wanda chuckled into her cup. “I’d love to meet them!”
Steve sighed. “Alright, I’ll go get ‘em. It isn’t our fault if they bowl you over.” The door swung closed behind him, and then Bucky came up to the counter, his gaze piercing.
You stared back at him, expression carefully passive, when he suddenly smirked. “I’m Bucky. It’s good to finally have some good coffee in this town–that is, if you know what you’re doin’.”
“I will have you know that I am a pro, mister,” you retorted, scowling at him. “Keep that up and I will purposefully make your coffee awful just to spite you.”
Bucky laughed heartily, his nose scrunching and eyes squinting. “God, you are a hell of a woman. Wands, you picked a good one.”
“I know,” Wanda replied, nodding.
A clatter came from the door and you whipped your head around, only to find three giant balls of fluff powering into the walkway, tongues lolling, noses twitching, and tails wagging. “Oh my god! Look at them!”
Your shoes squeaked on the floor as you ran around the counter, one mission in mind: to hug those dogs to within an inch of your life.
Wanda was laughing while Bucky and Steve shook their heads as you fell to your knees, arms wide to embrace all three dogs. “They’re so cute!” you gushed, scratching a black one’s ear and a white and black one’s chin. A white and brown one started to whine and licked your cheek.
“That is Cap,” Steve spoke up, pointing at the white and black one, whose tongue was lolling while he panted and his ears twitched. “He’s my boy, and he’s one hell of a soldier.”
“And those two idiots,” Bucky said, pointing at the black one, and the brown and white one. “Are mine. Koda is a Newfoundland, and Sarge is a Saint Bernard. They fuckin’ love the snow.”
“I love them!” you cried, laughing and falling backwards onto the floor – all three dogs following you. “I am never moving. They are my babies now, sorry boys.”
Steve snorted and Bucky sighed. “At least it’ll be quieter without ‘em,” he offered.
They stayed for an hour longer, just milling about and letting you fawn over their dogs with fond smiles on their lips. Customers came and went, all of them wishing you luck and good fortune with your grand opening, and promising to return to browse another day – which made you beam at them. Never had you felt so welcome.
“We best get goin’,” Bucky said eventually from his perch on the couch in the reading nook. “Stevie, we’ve gotta get on site or the bastard will have our fuckin’ heads.”
“You’re right,” Steve replied, rubbing his beard. He looked at you, a gentle smile pulling at his lips. “It was amazing meeting you, love, and we will for sure be comin’ back. You make a fantastic coffee.”
The praise made pride swell in your chest, having impressed them. “Thanks–I’ll hold you to that. And you better bring my babies with you next time.”
“‘Course,” Steve assured, standing. “Cap, c’mon, boy–let’s go.” Cap yipped and stood, stopping to shake the mountainous fur before trotting after his human.
“It was good meetin’ you, doll.” Bucky came up to the counter, a smirk on his lips. “Next time I’ll test your skills, huh? Might order somethin’ different.”
You tilted your chin up in an act to seem unperturbed. “Do it. I dare you.”
“You are somethin’ else…” There was a glint in his bright eyes, a spark of fondness and something else you couldn’t place, but it made butterflies flutter in your stomach regardless. “Anyway, I’ll catch you later–I’ll bring your babies with me.”
“See to it that you do, Bucky,” you said, an amused smile creeping your lips up in the corners. In the short amount of time that you had known Bucky, and Steve, you’d already grown attached – close in the way you’d never been before, especially with the brunet. He exuded a sense of safety that you couldn’t bear to resist. “Be safe out there, okay?”
“Always. After all,” Bucky said, turning away and patting his thigh. Koda and Sarge ran off after him. Just as he reached the door, Bucky turned back to face you, and you watched as he pulled out a small clover from the breast pocket of his jacket – it was a four leaf clover. “I found this, this mornin’, and I think it was a sign.”
Unbidden, your eyes welled with tears.
Bucky smiled, and placed the clover back into his pocket. “I’ll see you later, Clover, alright? Keep warm ‘n keep safe.”
With that, Bucky walked out of your haven, and damn it all, he took your heart with him.
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes oneshot#hotbuckysummer2023#rookthorne's works
382 notes
·
View notes
Note
i wanted to ask if i can request something with azriel x reader, non sexual dominance. Like everyday things, maybe he helps her getting dressed/suggesting hairstyles? he helps her with her food and drinking like the whole ic is at ritas and reader is drinking and azriel looks at her and gives her a look when she almost drinks too much, the look is screamingggg ’ is that smart? ’ just being casually dominant and making sure she’s comfortable👀
This was a fun one to write as I never really thought about anything like it. I'm glad you requested it because it really got me thinking how Azriel would be like that.
Decision Maker Azriel x Female Reader
You come home and find a note from Azriel. "Be ready at 6 for dinner at Rita's." You smile as you look at the leggings and off-shoulder sweater he had picked out for you. You love it when he takes the time to pick out clothes for you. You step into the bathroom and start the shower. You undress at the water warms up before stepping in. You get washed up and allow the hot water to relax you. You finally stepped out and dried off before drying your hair. You sit in front of the vanity while curling your hair. "Did you have a good shower?" Azriel asks from the doorway. "Would've been better with you." You teasingly respond. He stands behind you as you curl the last section. "Hopefully, next time, I'll be able to join you." He says with a wink. He gently brushes your curls, softening them before pinning them back. "I love your hair like this." He says as he kisses the top of your head. "Me too." You answer, leaning back into him.
He helps you up and hands you the clothes he picked out. He helps you slide the leggings on before carefully pulling the sweater on you. He steps back and admires you, you give him a little twirl so he get the full effect. "Go pick out something for me to wear, anything you want." He tells you. You pull out a pair of black pants and your favorite blue shirt of his. After he's dressed he helps you put on your boots, kneeling in front of you and lacing your boots up. He quickly puts his boots on and offers his arm, "Ready for dinner, love?" He asks. "Yes, babe." You answer as you hook your arm in his before he winnows you to Rita's. You quickly spot the rest of the inner circle at the usual table. You take a seat next to Mor as Az sits on the other side of you. His hand gently resting on your leg as his thumb strokes your thigh.
You're favorite waitress comes to take your orders and Az orders for both of you. You're sure she thought he was controlling the first few times he did it, but you loved when he ordered for you, it was one less thing you had to think about. You joined in conversation as everyone discussed their day, laughing as Nesta and Cassian argued over who won their sparring match earlier, each one claiming victory. A few moments later your drinks arrive as Azriel hands you a glass of sweet wine. You smile appreciatively at him and take a sip. Mor compliments you on your outfit before telling you about a new boutique that just opened up. You tell her the two of you will have to check it out soon. Afterba few more moments of conversation the food arrives. You look at Azriel confused when you don't have a plate in front of you. "Don't worry, love. I didn't forget, I wanted to split my meal with you."
You scoot closer to him as he starts cutting his steak, offering you a bite from his fork along with some steamed veggies and mashed potatoes. You're more than happy to let him feed you from his plate as you rejoin the conversations about work and personal life with the rest of the inner circle. You sip your glass of wine between bites and during breaks in the conversations. You lean in close to Az, "I'm full, babe, the rest is yours." You tell him before giving him a soft kiss. He returns your kiss and finishes what is left of his meal. Once he's finished, he drapes his arm across the back of your chair. The band starts to play upbeat music, and before you know it, Mor is pulling you to the dance floor. You dance with her as Nesta and Feyre join in. The four of you just have fun and dance together.
You feel Az watching you, he always keeps an eye on you to make sure your safe and comfortable. After a few songs you decide to take a break, walking back to your seat next to Az. "Having fun, love?" He whispers pressing a kiss to your neck below your ear. "Yes, you know I enjoy being out with everyone almost as much as I love being alone with you." You answer. Suddenly Mor appears with a round of shots, she hands you one. You glance at Az, he raises his eyebrow giving you the familiar, do you think you should have another one, look. You casually offer your shot to Cassian or Rhys. Cassian takes it and downs it. "Are you about ready to go? You're starting to look tired." He asks before you yawn. "Yes, please." You answer before he helps you to your feet. You both say your goodbyes before walking outside and winnowing home.
Azriel carries you inside and sits you on the edge of the bed. "Arms up, love. Let me get you changed into pajamas." He carefully undresses you before grabbing one of his shirts for you to sleep in. He gently unpins your hair and puts them on the nightstand. He strips down to his boxer briefs before turning off the lights and climbing in bed next to you. He pulls you on top of him and wraps his wings around you, pulling the blanket over top of you both. "Get some sleep, love." He says before kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back in calming circles. You easily fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat as he quickly follows.
197 notes
·
View notes
Text
John Price as a arm candy personal bodyguard
General HQ | Part I | Part II
(Enemy to friend to lover AU)
"Why did you agree to help me?"
The question came out from his mouth so suddenly, that even he himself was caught off guard.
She stared at him for a moment, before she asked him back,
"Would you rather me not helping you?"
"That's not what I meant." He grunts, "You let me into your home, even though we barely knew each other."
She raised his brow at him, "If that's the case, then why did you knock on my door?"
He fell silent for a moment.
"I… don't know."
(I feel like I could trust you)
"Then I don't know either." She told him, as she turned her attention away from him.
After seeing her unwillingness to talk, he decided not to push it further.
Other than her aloofness, she's very accommodating as a host. She let him use her office as his living space, and he could ask her if he needed anything.
He has made a few progress as well; he had established a way to communicate with his team, although he couldn't find Ghost's whereabouts. He also found the person behind the missing blueprints. With that information in mind, he began to plan his next step.
There's just one problem though, he needed guns and weapons.
Of course, he couldn't possibly ask her to buy those things. She'd raise the alarm even by mentioning anything about guns. But he did find a way to acquire it, though he had no choice but to ask her a favor.
"You want to attend the ball?"
"Yes, I have someone to meet there."
She thought for a moment, "I can try. But don't get your hopes up, it's hard to get into contact with him."
"It's alright." He said, "Do what you can."
She took a fine piece of paper, as she hummed to help her think.
"You said he's an arm dealer?" He nodded, "I might have something that could interest him."
She approached the wooden cabinet near her desk, and pulled one of the drawers open. She then pushed the upper layer aside, revealing a hidden cabinet below.
She took the polished box out, and placed it on the table.
"I never knew I'd use it as a bargaining tool." She sighed, "Let's just hope it'll work."
She told him to find her assistant and helped her deliver the gift, along with the letter she hurriedly wrote.
Several days later, when he was working on his desk, she barged into the room with a letter in her hand.
"Get ready." She told him as she slapped the letter on the table, "We're going to the ball tomorrow."
He didn't have the time to react as she dragged him along to the garage.
"I've made an appointment with a tailor. Since we can't have a custom-made suit, we'll choose whatever's on displays. Also, we should work on that face. That beard needs to go."
"What? No."
"You're a fugitive, John. You need to hide your identity." She told him as she got into the car. "Besides, you're coming with me as my escort, so don't argue with me on this point."
At the boutique, she handed him several suits and shirts, and told him to try them all. They went through that process several times before she chose the white and darker blue combination.
The next stop was the salon, and he could say with confidence that it was an experience he never wanted to repeat again.
"I swear, you always bring the most exotic looking people to my salon."
"I think you mistook ordinary people as the exotic ones."
"But you can't deny that he's gorgeous, darling."
He could only smile awkwardly as the two women in front of him conversed on what to do with him.
"I want him to look different, you can change his hair color if you want."
"Hmm, let me see." The woman beside her took a step closer to him, "Well, I can make him look a little bit younger, but I don’t know about his skin, dear. It's been exposed to too much sunlight."
"I can fix that myself. Please do something about his hair," She took a glance at him before she added, "And his beard."
After years of grooming and care for his beard, the fruits of his labor were gone in just 15 minutes. Not only that, he had to sit down for hours, as the woman worked on his hair, and listened to her complaints about the texture of his hair, and how he should've taken better care of it.
When she finished, she called her to take a look at him and see if it's to her liking. She came up to him and lifted his chin to get a better view. Before she gave her a nod of approval.
Back at her house, they went over the plan, and talked for a little more, before she brought a bottle of wine for them. Soon, the conversation turned personal, as he told her stories from his old days.
She was quiet when he told her about Shepherd, and how history repeats itself.
"You can't carry all the problems on your shoulder, John. You know that."
"I know." He murmured, "But I can't just sit around and wait for anyone else to solve it."
"There'll always be a person with the same righteousness as you." She said, "You have to remember that your body has a limit. You're not getting any younger, sooner or later, they'll find a way to get rid of you."
He kept his eyes on the glass between his hands, as her words tore through his ears. He didn't like the way it sounded, because he had already heard it a million times in his head.
She reached to him, and placed her hand on top of his, giving him a gentle squeeze. "When it's all over, come to me, John." She muttered quietly, "I won't ask you for too much. Keep me safe, and I'll take care of you."
He thought about it long enough for the silence to fill in, before he turned his hand to hold hers. "What if I refuse?"
"Then send me a card every Christmas," She replied, "So I'd know you're still alive."
He lifted his head to see her, and caught the sincerity in her eyes. She could've asked him to stay, and yet, she let him choose.
"... When it's all over," He told her, as he placed a kiss on her knuckles, "I'll give you my answer."
#I'm too lazy to write the action scene and all#i guess that's it folks#cod#call of duty#captain price#john price x reader#price x reader#cod mw2
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
To Have And To Scold
♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It’s just that… you don’t really get along all that well, do you? At least, that’s what you think.
CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers, slooow burn, language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader, eventual smut, talk of teenage!trauma (men are men and teenage girls are teenage girls) - nothing graphic, but, you know, a trigger warning feels right
Author’s note: new territory! fresh waters! my first ever part 6! wahhh!
Wordcount: 4.6K
part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue
Sudden loud voices, followed by the slam of a closing front door shocked you awake. Not enough for you to actually open your eyes, but enough to propel you back into consciousness where you learnt that, oh, whoops, you'd fallen asleep.
The voices that came from the hallway were quickly shushed by Mark, who moved up from the sofa and you felt his legs disappear from underneath your feet.
“What’s – oh, she’s asleep,”
Your shoulder ached from lying on it weird.
The talking turned into whispers and was followed by footsteps that moved into the kitchen. When you looked with a squinty eye, you saw the TV was still on, but had been muted.
You'd had dinner over at Mark's, and Poppy had gone out with Joe. That was always the way it was; you and Mark were people who stayed in wearing comfy outfits, had simple meals and enjoyed shitty TV together. Poppy and Joe would go out in shiny outfits to shiny restaurants where they had shiny meals, you were sure.
No drinks after, though. Not tonight. Tomorrow she had her appointment at a wedding boutique, and you'd been invited to come along as well. You and Poppy were friends, after all, and she valued your opinion when it came to wedding dresses over Joe's anyway.
It was dark out, and you tried remembering if it had already been dark before you'd drifted off as you stretched your arms up over your head.
You were so toasty warm underneath the throw blanket, you groaned at the prospect of having to put your shoes back on and go outside for the trek home.
A sudden noise jump-scared you, and you were quick to pull in both arms close to your chest as your head snapped to where it came from.
Joe was stood in the doorway.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you,"
"Oh my God," you spoke on an exhale, rubbed your face with both hands, and mentally cursed Joe for shocking you awake like he had.
Had he been stood there the whole time?
"Good morning?" you could hear him suppress a laugh, making fun of you as you sat up. Hair everywhere, sleep in your eyes and muscles all achy.
"It's night time," you corrected him dryly, not in the mood to play.
"Correction, it's not even 9, the evening's barely started."
Oh.
It felt like it was past midnight. But you shrugged, because it didn't really matter, and reached for one of your shoes that you pulled out from underneath the coffee table.
"Won't you... won't you have trouble getting to sleep later? Now that you've slept already?"
You frowned. Why was Joe trying to have a chat with you? Could he not go join Mark and Poppy in the kitchen and let you come back into your own body in some peace and quiet?
"I'll be fine," you pushed a foot into your second shoe. "I love a good nap."
A silence fell, and when you'd tied your shoe laces, you slapped your knees and took a deep breath. You looked at Joe who was still awkwardly hovering in the doorway, feet on the threshold, and you looked at him as if to ask, what do you want?
"Um, we... we came up with an idea," Joe started, scratching the back of his head.
"Small change of plans. We're turning the bridal shower into a wedding shower,"
You were glad that this was wedding-related, because it immediately normalised the conversation Joe was trying to have with you. You took a second to think it over, and then smiled an impressed smile at Joe.
"Well done," you nodded at him with your eyebrows raised. "Isn't that just a regular party, then?"
"Yea," Joe shrugged a little bashfully. "Pre-wedding party, everyone's invited, not just Poppy's guests,"
And no playing stupid bridal shower games, or stupid bridal shower activities... you were onto Joe. It was very clear that this was a way to minimize his workload and instead, just... drink.
Honestly, you didn't mind it.
"We thought it'd be nicer that way. Get everyone excited for the wedding,"
"No, yea... you're right. It probably will be nicer to have a normal party instead of playing the newly wed game, or some wild form of mad lips with their vows, or whatever,"
"Loo roll bride," Joe added.
"We could still do that, park Pop in the middle of the dance floor and dance around to wrap her up," you quipped, and got a huffed laugh out of Joe.
It was almost normal, until Joe's head turned and Mark's voice got into earshot. Joe immediately tensed up, you could see it in his shoulders, and you didn't understand why it offended you the way it did.
"Brilliant idea! We've managed to find a date that works for us," Mark said, revealing what they'd been up to, and it prompted Joe to step away to go and find Poppy.
Mark looked at you and turned on the ceiling light, washing the room in bright white. It made you flinch a little.
"Hey, twitchy-feet, you slept for nearly two hours,"
"I feel very well rested," you said, grinning at the nickname and getting up from the sofa.
"Kicked me several times,"
"You can take it,"
Finding your coat over the back of a chair, you slung it 'round and stuck one arm in after the other.
"You ready for tomorrow?" you called out loudly, and waited for a response from the kitchen.
"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Poppy called back.
"I was born ready," you grinned.
"No, you weren't," Mark said softly so only you could hear. "You were born five weeks premature, you–" you punched him in the arm as you stepped past him into the hallway.
"I'm so ready, I'll bring all of my opinions," you joked when you saw Poppy walk over, followed closely behind by Joe.
"Good, I'm going to need them."
"I'll bring mine too," Joe said, but earned an immediate scoff from his friend.
"No, leave those at home, you're just there for moral support. You need to tell me I look pretty in everything, and then I'll let the women be honest with me," Poppy said and you saw how they made eye-contact for a second.
It was wild how they looked in love when they locked eyes like that.
You snuck a quick glance at Mark to see if he noticed anything, but he had his phone out and you saw he had his agenda open, busy putting in when the wedding shower would be.
"I'm heading out," you broke their stare and all eyes turned to you.
"Me too," Joe said, and that immediately shot panic into your veins. You didn't need Joe walking you home again.
"Actually," Mark said, "I could use your help with something," And with a hand on his shoulder, Mark turned Joe back towards the kitchen.
"Bye," you called, and Mark waved a hand over his shoulder without looking back.
You didn't know if your face had given you away, if you'd been obvious about it, or if Mark had just sensed it within you, but you were grateful. Grateful you got to slip out of the house by yourself, void of any awkward embarrassing interaction with Joe. Just a small tiny wave for Poppy that got a bright smile of hers in return, and the door shut behind you.
Nice.
You could save all the tension for the next day. You just hoped it wouldn't get too weird. Tomorrow was going to be all about Poppy, anyhow. There wasn't going to be any room for Joe to be distant and weird with you.
At least, that's what you thought.
The next day, you all met up outside the boutique. Poppy, her mother, her auntie who doubled up as her godmother, and her daughter, Poppy's favourite cousin. And Joe. Of course, Joe was there too.
The six of you were sat down on one large sofa, everything pristine white, very clean, and obviously very expensive. You didn't sit next to Joe, even though out of everyone in Poppy's entourage you knew him best. It just, it was a little weird. In this group, you had known Poppy the shortest, and were only her friend by association. Originally, anyway.
After introductions to the bridal consultant of who you all were to Poppy, Poppy got whisked off fairly quickly to have a look at some dresses and to immediately try the first one on.
Waiting whilst she got dressed took ages.
Poppy's aunt and cousin took the time to look at dresses in the storefront, to see if they could find ones they thought would look good on Poppy. Joe buried himself in his phone, which was interesting, because you knew he wasn't on social media, so what the fuck was he even doing? Playing games?
It left you and Poppy's mum to talk.
"I've always wondered," she said, kind eyes all crinkled as she smiled at you.
"Of course we know Joe," she turned and curled a hand around his wrist. Joe smiled at her for a second, far more comfortable around her than you were. Which, yea, made sense. She might as well have been his mother.
"And we know Mark, but we don't really know you, do we? I've never heard how you and Mark became such close friends,"
Oh God.
This definitely felt like a protective mother making sure her daughter wasn't going to marry an unreliable man. One who didn't secretly have a girl on the side. One that didn't hide his mistress in plain sight.
You kind of understood, though. This all came from a good place, even if you could see that the smile you got from her was now very obviously a fake one. Or, perhaps not fake, but definitely wary.
Then you saw Joe put his phone down and direct his attention to you as well. A strange grin took over his face.
He scooted his hips forward a little, getting more comfortable as his legs spread wider. He was ready to listen to a story.
"Oh, well," you waved a hand, making it seem like you and Mark were surface level mates. "Nothing crazy, we just met at school and became fast friends."
It wasn't a direct lie. Not really.
It just wasn't an answer to the question she asked.
Joe narrowed his eyes at you and then frowned a little.
"You and Poppy met at school, didn't you?" Poppy's mum turned back to Joe, who immediately smiled at her and nodded. "Year 4," Joe added, and it was wild to see how fond she was of him.
Poster boy Joseph.
Probably the perfect son-in-law in her eyes. You wondered how much she despised that Joe wasn't the one marrying her daughter. How much she wanted Joe to be a true part of her family.
Instead she'd gotten Mark. And Mark came with an attachment.
You.
"Mark and I met when I was 14, and, you know him," you said, unsure if she actually did. "One big, kind softie."
The two of you laughed. Bonded over the fact that Mark was hardly soft - he could easily intimidate with just a simple look. He could be soft, sure. But he didn't look it.
Not the way that Joe looked soft, you thought.
The bridal consultant walked out and called everyone back to the sofa. Poppy was about to walk out in the first wedding dress she'd ever put on her body.
This was a big moment.
With everyone in position, Poppy got introduced all officially, and then she stepped out, dressed in an awful looking huge pile of tule that engulfed all of her. Absolutely ate her alive. She looked excited, but very self-conscious.
Her mother clapped in her hands excitedly and was already close to tears.
You looked at Joe who, Jesus Christ, looked absolutely smitten.
What was fucking wrong with him?
Poppy's aunt and cousin had huge big smiles on their faces and, oh my God, were you going to be the only one to tell her that you didn't like the dress on her at all?
Poppy got placed in front of a mirror and took a good look before she turned to face all of you.
"And?" Poppy questioned, eyes hopeful but terrified.
Her mother burst into tears.
Oh shit.
Joe immediately handed over a tissue from a box next to him.
"You look gorgeous," he said as he comforted Poppy's mum.
And she did look gorgeous. That wasn't the issue here.
Poppy got praised left right and centre, and you paid close attention to her face. For a moment you thought you weren't going to be able to give your honest opinion, because you saw her bloom, thriving on the kind words she was receiving from everyone.
However, when the consultant asked Poppy what she thought of it herself, Poppy turned back to look at herself in the mirror and hesitated.
Thank fuck.
Poppy made eye-contact with you in the mirror and gave you a questioning look.
"Pop, you look fantastic in white. Most beautiful bride. I'm being honest. Your skin looks like it's glowing, it's gorgeous... but, babe," you bit your lips into your mouth for a second, and considered the reaction you were going to get from the rest of the sofa.
"This dress looks awful,"
You saw heads snap towards you from your peripheral vision. You kept your eyes trained on Pop. Kind eyes. Real sympathetic ones.
The air was tense and you all waited for Poppy's reaction.
"I know," Poppy replied before she burst into laughter.
You could practically feel the whole sofa relax.
"It's not really your style, is it?" Poppy's cousin added.
"Far too cupcakey," Poppy said and scrunched up her nose as she picked at some tule and faffed with it to show what she meant.
"All right, less cupcakey, got it," the bridal consultant smiled.
The tone had been set. Good. You were glad. If everyone was just going to tell Poppy she looked great in every single dress, this whole appointment would be useless.
There was some more back and forth, people mentioning what they did like about the dress she was in, people adding how maybe this or that change would make it be more Poppy, and when Poppy disappeared into the dressing room to try on another dress, her mother reached a hand that grabbed onto your knee for a second.
"Thank you," this time you could see that her smile was sincere. "She deserves good friends like you."
You looked at Joe and couldn't help but feel a little bad for him. You were getting praised for being a good mate when Poppy's literal platonic soulmate was sat on the other side of her.
Joe eyes darted and only landed on you for a second.
Big cringe.
"Poppy deserves the world," you agreed. "And a beautiful dress," the cousin added, to which you all hummed and nodded. She really did.
Poppy tried on a few more dresses before she stepped out and was already in tears herself.
This was it.
It was the one.
Poppy knew it was the one, she could feel it in her bones and it radiated off of her.
She looked stunning.
Like, seriously stunning.
Mark was really fucking lucky.
It only took one look for her mother to start crying again, and before long, it was just you, Joe and the consultant with dry faces. Everyone else had tears streaming down.
"That's it," you said, and Poppy nodded with a shaky inhale and a wobbly smile. "That's the dress."
Her mother absolutely broke down then, and stood up to hug the girl in the beautiful white gown. It got quickly followed by her aunt who was trying her hardest not to let her mascara run, and Joe was just handing out tissues all 'round like his life depended on it.
He passed you one, which you took, but then held up questioningly.
"You're supposed to cry," Joe spoke out of the side of his mouth, his face in a faux panic over the fact that you weren't. He waved a hand in a small circle that was meant to say, hurry up with those tears, and it made you roll your eyes at him.
You stuck the tissue into your pocket and looked at the ladies stood by the mirrors.
This felt like a moment.
One you weren't part of. You weren't family, and you got the strong sense you were intruding.
The bridal consultant stepped back past the curtains that lead to the dressing room, and you thought she must have been thinking the same thing.
When Poppy's mother started talking about Poppy's birth, reminiscing about her sweet little baby girl, you knew you were right. Time to give them some space. You got up, excused yourself to Poppy's cousin who seemed to be drowning in self-pity over being single more than anything else, and escaped into the front of the store.
For a second you thought you could just busy yourself, looking through dresses, or whatever, but when you saw the door, some fresh air sounded divine.
It was nice out. Sunny. Slight breeze. Not very warm yet, but, the sun on your skin was bright enough to warm it.
You checked the time, and upon seeing how much time had already passed, you realised you were actually quite hungry. How bad would it be if you darted off get your hands on some food?
You didn't get to think about it long.
The door to the wedding boutique opened, and Joe stepped out.
Thinking that he'd been sent out to come and get you, you were about to tell him that you were just getting some fresh air and would be back inside in a minute. But then, Joe revealed a packet of cigarettes from a pocket and you realised he was joining you out on the pavement.
"Got a bit too emosh in there?" you asked.
Joe nodded as he took his first drag. A good, long one. He seemed insanely uncomfortable.
"I know it's a whole thing," Joe waved his hand around and made a stupid face. "But, fuck me, over five thousand pounds for a dress?"
Jesus fucking Christ.
Of course the dress Poppy was going to get was over five thousand pounds. Of fucking course.
Joe shook his head, and even though you agreed, you thought you had a little case of a pot calling a kettle black on your hands here. Joe looked like he was wearing designer pieces exclusively. He probably had gotten a lot of it for free, but retail value would easily be a couple thousand.
So, you wanted to defend Poppy a little.
"If she loves it, she loves it," you shrugged.
"Yea, no, of course,"
"And she looks great,"
"She does."
Joe was quick to just go along with you. Didn't want to ruffle any feathers. He was but a man, one who didn't really get it, but the ladies inside were really going through something together, and when Joe saw you sneak away, he'd followed your lead and had done the same.
"Poppy's got nice family,"
You'd only briefly seen her mother once, but had never actually spoken to her before. Her aunt and cousin were completely strangers to you, but they honestly did seem lovely.
"She does," Joe said, and he let another silence follow as he looked down the street, away from you.
Jeez, Joe. Come on, put some effort in.
"Though her mother definitely doesn't trust me," you couldn't help the slight chuckle at yourself.
Joe's eyes found yours, and he huffed a laugh as he exhaled thick white smoke that immediately blew upwards.
"Nah," he started, "She's all right,"
You looked down at your feet a moment.
"It didn't help that you pretended you barely even know Mark at all," Joe reminded you, and you looked up at him, about to share that she did say that Poppy deserved friends like you, but something about the way Joe was looking at you made the words linger in your lungs.
"What was that about?"
In all the years that you and Joe had avoided conversations like these, suddenly, it felt like the most natural thing between you.
To be talking about your friends like this.
You wondered what changed.
"I... I could tell you, but, I need to warn you. I might cry."
Joe didn't say anything. Just smoked.
"Is being in the vicinity of four crying women not enough?"
It was meant as a joke, but you knew that even just thinking about the start of your friendship with Mark could make your throat hurt.
"No? Need one more?"
You hid your smile badly, but you poked Joe right where it hurt. Joe thought he'd said something wrong and immediately backed off. You thought he either didn't get social cues, just in general, or that maybe you'd been right before, and Joe really didn't actually like you. He'd just tried to be nice for Poppy's sake.
You couldn't even be mad. That just made him a good friend. It just sucked that you had to bear the brunt of it.
But you were kind, remember? So after a short moment of silence, you decided to just tell him anyway.
"When I was 14, my, um... experience, with boys, and honestly, too many adult men, was very..."
You forgot that having to tell him meant you had to say the actual words. Verbalise them. Speak them into the air, just... outside, where you were stood on the pavement, for strangers to hear. For Joe to hear.
"How can I put this without it sounding too dramatic... basically, any time a boy was friendly to me, and I thought I'd made a friend, it was... it was never just friendly. There was always a point where suddenly, they wanted to put their sweaty little teenage hands in... places,"
Oh God, you couldn't look Joe in the eye for this.
"And I don't know, it just... if every time you think you've made a friend you end up finding out that they aren't actually a friend, it um... fucked me up, a little bit,"
You were going to brush over the adult men you mentioned.
"Not to mention the way that you'd then get treated after when you'd kindly say, no thanks, I'd like us to remain friends, please,"
You recalled the way they'd speak to you. Would look at you. Like you'd personally done them a great disservice. Like not letting them touch your tits was the most vile thing you could've ever done to them.
"Adult men?"
Fuck.
Joe's voice couldn't sound smaller if he'd tried.
"Yea, you know... just," you shrugged. Eyes down. This was just what things were like. "Teachers who would squeeze your shoulder for a second too long when they'd reassure you that you really were a beautiful young girl, or, my dad's coworkers that would comment on them being disappointed I wouldn't be in my schooluniform if they'd visit on the weekends,"
"Fucking hell,"
"It's whatever," you kick stomped a foot into the pavement. "It's not like I was molested or anything,"
Joe didn't say anything.
"But so, I'd turned down one of Mark's classmates who couldn't really deal with that and tried to spread rumours, you know, just... teenage boy behaviour, no offence,"
Joe thought back to his own teenage years. Of classmates calling girls lesbians because they avoided kissing them at a park gathering over the weekend. Or them calling girls slags for the exact same reason.
"Mark just... Mark decided to become my friend, and then, actually became my friend. It took me ages to trust that he wouldn't one day try to roll onto me to make out. I just... I kept waiting for him to make a move and the longer it took, the more I knew the world would burn when he eventually would–"
"Pocket," Joe suddenly said.
"Huh?"
"You've got... the tissue I gave you, you put it in your pocket,"
Oh shit. You were crying. A stupid laugh escaped you and you were quick to find the crumpled up piece of tissue.
"I'm all right, honestly," you said, unable to not laugh at yourself. "It's just... it's dumb how much it meant for me to find a friend who wasn't romantically interested in the slightest,"
"I don't think that's dumb,"
Joe looked at you with impossibly big, rounded eyes. All full of things like... empathy, and softness. Zero judgment.
"Well. It is." You concluded. Last thing you needed was for Joe to feel sorry for you.
"I'm sorry, but I don't think that being betrayed and backstabbed a lot as a young girl means that– like, obviously that does– that's not, it's not dumb,"
Joe was going to have to stop talking if he didn't want you to break down right in front of him.
"It's– I think it's profoundly human that those type of things have an impact. Things like that leave marks, don't they?"
The sob that wretched itself from you was the worst thing your body had ever done to you in public. In front of Joe, no less.
It made you duck into yourself, and Joe's arms were around you in an instant. You imagined that Joe hugging you would be arms barely there. Body held back. Just, soft pats on a shoulder blade for just a second.
But it was none of that.
Joe's arms held a lot of strength. Squeezed your ribs tightly. Compressed you. A large palm covered the entire back of your head as he pressed it into the space below his chin.
It somehow eased everything immediately.
Joe smelled nice.
Was warm.
"It's not dumb," Joe started, his voice all soft and velvety. "You're–" but then a loud knock on glass interrupted him and made the two of you turn your heads to see Poppy stood in front of the window. Crying.
The two of you looked at each other, and Poppy's face only scrunched up more at the sight of you.
"Look at her," you said to Joe as he let you go and you didn't even wait for him to finish was he was about to say to you. You rushed inside where Poppy and you fell into a massive hug.
"Are you all right?" she hiccuped through a whisper.
"I am," you smiled over her shoulder. "You just look so very beautiful, it's hard to bear,"
You got a wet laugh out of her before you pulled back.
"This is what you're going to be wearing, right?"
"This is the one," Poppy beamed, and the urge to hug her close overtook again.
By now Joe had made it inside, and you could see him look at the two of you from the side.
"Your wedding is going to be so gorgeous, you have no idea. I can't fucking wait," you said, and Poppy's grip around your neck tightened in excitement.
"It'll be the best day," you continued. "The weather will be lovely, and everyone you love is going to be there to witness you and Mark, saying yes to each other. It'll be beautiful, everyone will be so happy. Good vibes only."
"Don't," Poppy sniffled. "Please don't lose the rings,"
You immediately dropped your shoulders, and a few steps away, Joe let out a loud belly laugh.
You were quick to flip him off behind Poppy's back before pulling back out of Poppy's embrace. Your middle finger aimed at him only made Joe laugh louder.
"Of course I won't," you smiled sweetly at her.
"Trust me. I won't."
—
The Taglisted:
@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl
(taglist currently full, sorry)
#Joe Quinn#Joseph Quinn#Joe Quinn x You#Joseph Quinn x You#Joe Quinn x Reader#Joseph Quinn x Reader#Joe Quinn Fanfic#Joe Quinn fanfiction#Joseph Quinn Fanfic#Joseph Quinn Fanfiction#rpf#icallhimjoey#To Have And To Scold#joe quinn x y/n#joseph quinn x y/n#part 6
358 notes
·
View notes
Text
Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be
Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart || Chapter 17C: I'm Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned ||| Also posted at AO3
Chapter 18: Turn The Page
New York City || September 1988
So you walk into this restaurant
All strung out from the road
And you feel the eyes upon you
As you're shakin' off the cold
You pretend it doesn't bother you
But you just want to explode
-- “Turn The Page,” Bob Seger (1971) [click here to listen]
Claire Fraser took a long drink from the glass of water beside the bathroom sink. Closed her eyes. Counted five deep breaths.
Bob Seger’s voice flowed through the tiny portable radio that she and Jamie took everywhere on the road.
Here I am, on the road again
There I am, up on the stage
There I go playin' the star again
There I go, turn the page
She opened her eyes. Listened to the man sing so passionately, so desperately, about his exhaustion and heartbreak from living in the spotlight. Touring relentlessly. Feeling displaced in his own life.
“Claire?”
Jamie poked his head around the door, humming along with the song.
Not for the first time, Claire was grateful that the tour had wildly exceeded all expectations – the private plane instead of tour buses; limos to and from the gig; and hotel suites that were so large they typically had two bathrooms.
Not that they minded sharing, of course – but living on top of each other could be hard sometimes. On nights like these, she needed her own space.
And now, Jamie met her eyes in the mirror.
Enjoyed his surprise.
“What…you…”
She turned to face him. Took a moment to admire him in all black – the dress shirt that she had ironed for him this morning, black jeans, black belt with silver studs, boots. The leather jacket whose inside pocket she tucked a love note into every morning.
She raised her arms. “What do you think?”
The red dress wasn’t something she had intended to buy, that afternoon in Miami when the band needed a few hours with Colum to discuss the European leg of next year’s tour (“the leg owed to the fans, after the shit Jamie pulled last year before he got clean,” he had reminded them). She had kindly suggested to Charlotte and Molly – Angus’ groupie girlfriends – that rather than spend another afternoon inside, they explore the shopping mall attached to the hotel. Jamie had insisted that one of the roadies go with them, to deal with any photographers or aggressive fans – but Claire had only smiled and said that it would be fine.
She had been correct, of course. It was such a breath of fresh air to walk up and down the long corridors, eat Cuban sandwiches in the food court, browse the selections in the department stores and specialty boutiques. Anonymous. To interact with sales clerks not as the wife/girlfriend of the biggest rock musicians in the world – but simply as three women having a nice afternoon out together.
And, truth be told, it was good to get some time with Charlotte and Molly. They asked – respectfully – about her relationship with Jamie, and she in turn asked – respectfully – about their relationship with Angus. Watched them tear up when Charlotte started talking about the uncertainty before them when the tour ended, and when Molly wondered whether they would ever be enough.
Not quite knowing what to say, Claire absently pulled through a clearance rack – and then…
“Ohmygod Claire!” Molly exclaimed. “You have to try that one on!”
Startled, Claire focused on the sleeveless, ankle-length red dress.
“Jamie will freak when he sees that on you!” Charlotte smiled, shifting an armful of lingerie to look closer.
Claire pursed her lips. Thinking.
“Come on, Claire! You need to look like the rockstar wife you are.” Molly grabbed the dress. “Let’s go try it on. Come on!”
Initially she had only wanted to placate Molly. But when she saw herself in the dressing room mirror, she immediately knew how Jamie would react.
Three weeks later, she was correct.
She swirled slightly, enjoying the feel of the fabric swishing around her calves. The bite of cold air on her bare chest and belly. And the incredulous look on Jamie’s face, eyes dark.
“It’s very…red,” he stammered. “Are you wearing a bra?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s our first event as a couple. And as husband and wife. We need to make a splash.”
He swallowed. Stepped closer to take her elbows, thumbs stroking the soft skin.
“I suppose. Every man will have his eyes on you tonight.”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll only feel yours.”
His eyes darkened. “I like knowing, that at any time tonight, I can just do this…” One hand trailed across the fabric of the dress, over her breast, until it reached the strip of exposed skin spanning her neck to her navel. “And then this…” His thumb edged under the flap, teasing the underside of her breast, in the way he knew would drive her absolutely crazy.
Her lips parted. His eyes locked on hers – taking in the red tones sweeping her eyes and cheeks, and her scarlet lipstick, and the silver hoops hanging in her ears.
“Can we just stay here tonight?” he asked softly, not exactly joking.
She shook her head. “Jamie, Lou fucking Reed came to the show at Madison Square Garden last night and not only insisted on meeting you and complimenting your music, he invited us to his party tonight. He’s had his own addiction issues, he’s not a dummy. And we’ve talked about this, we can’t avoid parties forever. It will be good for all those people to see you.”
He removed his thumb from her breast, and bridged the gap between them to lean his forehead against hers. Without words, their hands found each other, twining and grasping.
As was their habit now, he pressed their thumbs together. The C she had tattooed at the base of his thumb, mingling with the J he had tattooed at the base of her thumb.
“It’s going to be so hard, Claire. Not that I don’t want to see people, or show you off, or help you get to know them.” He swallowed. “I’ve been to these kinds of parties before. Huge open bar. Waitresses in low cut dresses handing around trays of drugs like it was a tray of snacks. People doing lines on the tables. People…fucking in the bathroom.”
She swallowed. “I’ll stay with you the whole time. You can be my excuse to stop talking to someone if it gets too awkward. Or to say no, if something like that is offered to you. You know I don’t care, right?”
He nodded. Hands shaking.
“Do you want to call Raymond?”
He shook his head. “Not right now. Tomorrow, definitely. Let me see how I get through this. Maybe we agree on a few points for tonight?”
“Anything. I love you.”
He smiled. “OK. I’ve got gum in my pocket – that will keep us from getting too thirsty. And if we need something to drink, we’ll ask for club soda, and we’ll watch the drink poured in front of us. I don’t care if it’s awkward. I can’t trust.”
She released one hand from his grip, and slid it into the back pocket of his jeans. “Got it. And you know it’s easier if we touch, right? Hold my hand. Put your hand on my hip. I don’t care. I’ll be right there with you. And you’ll be right there for me.”
He stepped closer, and she parted her legs, and he stood between them. Pressing her hips against the bathroom counter.
“If we get separated, Jamie, I promise I’ll stay true to my sobriety, and to you.”
“I promise the same. I only want you.”
“I’ll touch my letter on you. Will you?”
“Yes,” he swallowed. Kissing the arch of her eyebrow. “That will help. But let’s also agree on a signal, if one of us feels need for love. And the need to go.”
She rubbed the tip of her nose against his. Breath so warm on his lips. “How about…” She tapped the center of his chest. “Touch here. Close to your heart. That’s where I feel need, when I want to love you. Is that where you feel it, too?”
“Yes,” he breathed. “It pools here. Like fire. God, I need to kiss you, Claire. Please let me kiss you.”
She turned her face away, smiling. “I don’t want you to smudge my lipstick. And I want you to hold that thought all night, Jamie. Hold on to that pool of fire. Can you do that for me?”
She felt his smile against her jaw. “Gonna be so, so good when we get back here,” he growled.
“I know, baby. It will keep us strong and true tonight. I love you.”
He pulled back a bit. Raised her hand to his lips. Kissed her wedding ring.
“I love you, Dr. Mrs. Fraser.”
She smiled. “I love you, you idiot. Come on. The limo should be waiting.”
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
Winter Wolf - Chapter 2
Winter Wolf Master List
Warnings: Use of Y/N, Mentions of drinking
Length: 2149
A/N: Here's a little early upload for y'all!
I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!
It is the day of the party and you do not want to go. You always have fun, but you don't want to deal with all of the people that come. They're normally just a bunch of random socialites who want to say that they are BFFs with the Avengers.
You're lying on your bed when there is a knock at your door.
"It's open!" You yell.
Natasha and Wanda come in and you groan. You know what is about to happen. They're going to drag you around town for a makeover that you did not want to attend.
"Why can't I just go in sweats?" You complain.
"Because Tony has a dress code," Natasha reminds you.
"And this will be a fun trip! We haven't hung out in ages and this is a good way to catch up!" Wanda says optimistically.
You cover your face with a pillow and let out a scream. The two girls laugh at you before they sit on the bed.
Wanda shakes your shoulder. "Come on Y/N! It'll be fun!"
"But why do I need to go out if I have all of this makeup and clothes here?" You counter.
"You know how Stark is. If he sees you wearing something you've worn in the past he'll insult you for weeks." Natasha rolls her eyes.
"HE DOES THAT ANYWAY!" You exclaim after throwing the pillow across the room.
The pillow hits an unsuspecting Bucky as he opens the door. "How can you make a pillow hurt?"
"Sorry Bucky, I didn't realize you were coming in." You apologize.
"It's fine, I should've knocked. Anyways, Tony wanted me to tell you that we all have to show up and be dressed for the occasion."
"What does that even mean?" You question.
"I don't know. But I thought you should know."
"Ok, thanks robot arm!" You wave bye at him and he offers a small smile before closing the door.
"You should ask him out on a date," Natasha looks at you. You forgot that Wanda and Natasha were there for a second.
"She has a boyfriend Nat!" Wanda swats her arm.
"What he doesn't know won't kill him," Natasha explains.
"I wouldn't cheat on my boyfriend."
"Come on, let's go!" Wanda pulls you up and you groan.
"It's going to be the longest day of my life!" You exaggerate with a huff.
After they drag you into Natasha's car, the three of you go out to look for some new clothes. Natasha was the first to find her outfit. It was a black jumpsuit paired with a black belt. The outfit made her look like the powerful woman she is.
"What shoes are you going to wear with that?" You ask her.
"Probably my red stilettos."
"You're going to look so good!" Wanda compliments.
"Thanks, babe." Natasha smiles at her.
The next person to find an outfit is Wanda. She found a red long-sleeved dress. The dress reached Wanda's mid-thigh and a slit was cut on the right side of her dress.
"I don't want to sound repetitive but you look hot!" You tell her.
Wanda blushes at the compliment. "Thank you Y/n! But we should go and look for your dress now!"
You sigh. You were hoping that the girls would forget what you all initially went in for.
The three of you went to multiple different boutiques for you, but nothing caught your attention. You were growing frustrated that Natasha and Wanda would not let you go home.
"Guys, I'm not going to find anything. Let's just go home!" You whine while they drag you into another boutique.
"This will be the last one, I swear!" Natasha promises you.
"Who knows, maybe you will find something you like," Wanda says, being optimistic like always.
You sigh and let them drag you in. "This is the last one."
You guys search the whole boutique, going through every single rack. Both Wanda and Natasha found a few dresses that they thought would look good on you. Out of the whole store, you only find one dress that catches your attention.
"Ok, time for a fashion show Y/N!" Wanda pushes all of the dresses into your hands and pushes you into a changing room.
You put on the first dress you see. Wanda had picked out a burnt orange dress that hugged your body. It was beautiful but it is not something you would wear. You go out anyway and show them.
"It's a beautiful dress, but I don't think it's for you," Wanda admits.
"That's what I was thinking." You admit.
"Go try on the one I found," Natasha smirks.
You don't tell her, but you're scared. Natasha's taste in clothing is significantly different from yours. She likes tight, form-fitting clothes that are revealing. You tend to gravitate to something more modest. If a dress is form-fitting, you prefer for it to be a little longer.
You go back into the changing room and find the dress Natasha picked out. You're not even sure if you could call it a dress. It was a black long-sleeved dress that had the hips cut out of it. It was cut low on both the front and back. You leave the dressing room with your cheeks hot.
"You look hot!" Natasha complimented.
"Are you sure you didn't pick this out for you?" You ask her.
"If you don't want it, I'll take it," Natasha said.
Both you and Wanda roll your eyes and you go back to the changing room. You decide to put on the dress you grabbed.
The dress is silver and when the lights shine on it, it becomes iridescent. It was beautiful. It hugged you in all the right spots but it was in your comfort zone. It was the perfect solution to wanting to look cute and sexy.
You leave the dressing room with a big smile on your face. You spin around once and Natasha and Wanda clap.
"This is definitely you babe," Natasha smiles at you.
"I told you you would find it!" Wanda smiles and claps.
"I'll admit, you were right." You look at Wanda.
"Come on, let's go pay for this, and then we can go to the makeup store." Wanda goes with you to put the dresses back and you pay for the dress.
The three of you go and have a quick lunch before going back to the compound.
You and Wanda are laughing at a joke Natasha made when you see Thor strolling by, a Pop-Tart in hand.
"What is so funny ladies? I would like to laugh as well." He asks with a smile.
"Oh, it's nothing, Thor." You smile back at him.
"But I find humor humorous!"
You look at Natasha, letting her tell the story.
"It wasn't anything big. We were just eating at a sandwich shop when we..." You zone out of what Natasha was saying.
You were thinking about your boyfriend. He is an amazing guy and you know you love spending time with him. This relationship was fairly new, only 2 months since you guys made it official. You wanted to introduce him to the rest of the Avengers.
You're pulled out of your thoughts by Thor's laugh.
"That was very funny!" He throws the rest of the pop tart into his mouth before walking away.
"I'm going to go to my room now, I'll see you guys in a couple of hours!" You wave at Natasha and Wanda and head to the elevator.
You go to push the button but a metal arm beats you to it.
"Oh, hey Bucky! Thanks for pushing the button." You smile up at him.
"No problem, Doll." Bucky smiles back at you.
The doors open and he gestures for you to go in first.
"You are being such a gentleman today Mr. Barnes," You smile up at him as you walk in.
"I try once in a while," Bucky smiles at you before walking in after you.
"So what are you planning to do this weekend?" You ask him.
"I don't know. I don't really have anything set in stone. Did you decide what movie you're going to see with your boyfriend?"
"Not yet. I think we're going to get dinner instead."
"That sounds nice." The doors to the elevator open and you both step out.
Bucky walks you to your door and smiles at you. "I'll see you later tonight, Doll."
"Bye Bucky," You walk into your room.
After a couple of hours of laying in bed doing nothing, you decide that it is time to start getting ready. You didn't buy any new makeup after shopping for a new dress so you didn't need to unpack anything except the dress. You hang it up in your closet before heading to the bathroom.
You take a quick shower, avoiding your hair since you washed it the night before. You stay in the bathroom and start to do your makeup. Just a simple look, nothing over the top. You decide against liquid liner and use eyeshadow instead. You debate about going for a bold red or a clear gloss but ultimately you choose the clear gloss. You decide to lightly curl your hair, leaving them in beachy waves.
You put on your bra and underwear before going into your closet for the dress. You put the dress on and smile at yourself in the mirror. You feel beautiful. You grab some strappy silver heels and head to the elevator. You were the last one to leave so you were alone the whole time.
You decide to send a text to your boyfriend.
I can't wait to spend some time with you this weekend.
You didn't bring a purse and you started to regret that until your phone buzzed with a new notification.
Me too. Did you decide where we're going to eat?
At the restaurant we always go to?
That sounds perfect
You smile at the messages before you exit the opening doors.
As soon as you walk out, you could tell it was a Tony Stark party. There were hundreds of people mingling, many of them trying to talk to the Avengers. Of course, the team would politely hold a conversation, well all except for Tony and Bucky, but they always found a way to get themselves out.
You decide to go to the bar and ask for a glass of white wine. You didn't want to get drunk, but you didn't want to only drink water. You find a small group, Wanda, Natasha, Vision, and Bruce, hanging out and sit next to Natasha.
"You look so good!" Wanda clapped her hands and smiled at you.
"Thank you!"
You guys hang around for a couple of hours, laughing at jokes and memories. You casually drink your wine, not wanting to get too intoxicated. As the party starts to wind down, the rest of the Avengers find their way to the couch. Some girls try to stay but Tony has them escorted out.
The only people left were you and the rest of the Avengers. This is the only thing that made the parties worth it. Although you guys live and work with each other every day, you guys were family. They had your back and you had theirs.
You guys were talking about past stories and then your love life became a topic.
"Oh come on Y/N! Tell us who your mystery boyfriend is!" Natasha begs.
"Yes Lady Y/N, I am curious as well." Thor injects himself.
"No! If I told you then he wouldn't be that much of a mystery now, would he? He's my secret boyfriend for a reason." You smile before sipping on your wine.
"We're not worthy," Steve whispers to himself, but everyone hears.
"Steve, no." Natasha shakes her head.
"Yeah, I agree with Nat." Bucky shakes his head at his best friend.
Natasha turns back to you. "Come on! Is it Barnes?"
"No," Bucky immediately answers.
"I'm going to have Wanda read your mind." Natasha looks at you before turning to Wanda.
"Leave the poor girl alone, Nat." Bruce comes to your rescue.
Steve is still looking down, thinking about his joke.
"Guys, Y/N isn't going to share who her boyfriend is. Let's just leave it alone." Bucky defends you.
"Aw! Thanks, Weiner Soldier!" You ruffle his hair.
"I thought my joke was funny," Steve finally looks up at the rest of the group.
Tony claps Steve's shoulder. "Sure it was Capsicle."
You get up and pull your dress down. "This has been fun, but all of you are pretty much drunk. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."
You leave the room and the rest of the Avengers stay.
"Y/N is not Mjölnir Steve, you know that. Right?" Wanda turns to Steve.
"She might as well be!" Steve shrugs his shoulders.
Tagged Readers: @ordelixx @bellabarnes1378
#avengers#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky fanfic#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader fluff#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader smut#james bucky buchanan barnes
53 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
