#like the way she walks and holds her posture and the lightness of their voices | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rottiens · 1 month

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i must know ur stepcest thoughts 🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

US AT MIDNIGHT | GETŌ SUGURU

✮ wc. . 2.0K

✮ tags. . stepcest, spit kink, smoker fem!reader, alcohol consumption, praise kink (good girl), canon au. 18+ mdni. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ about. . the right thing to do would be to forget about the past and start over. pretend nothing happened. but sometimes the right thing to do is not always what we should do.

✮ notes. . i wanted to explore this trope from a more 'forbidden romance' point of view rather than lust as such, yk? Suguru really cares about the reader. I hope you can still enjoy it and suguru will probably be ooc here so I apologize for that ;sighs;

"You look ravishing tonight." You needn't turn around to know who it was, though it would be hypocritical to deny that you weren't expecting him.

Suguru followed you stealthily like shadow into the backyard, guided by your hips and the sound of your heels against the wooden floor that gave him clues as to what your final destination was. The trees under the breeze of the spring entrance flutter carrying silence.

You steel yourself to turn around, the courage you have never had but now cling to as if your life depended on it. You squeeze the cigarette you carry between your fingers and finally order your feet to move. You almost curse the moon for showing him to you so mysterious, the absence of light allows you to admire his blurred features and the darkness dances on his face preventing you from seeing him clearly. You sigh his manly perfume and smile wistfully at him, dropping your head to the side.

"Suguru." You hadn't said that name in a long time, hadn't thought of it after going to college abroad and abandoning your promising future as a sorceress, so having it in your mouth drags up memories that hit your belly like whips. He returns the same smile, clutching the cup in his hand. In the distance, the sound of music comes muffled through the walls that separate you. "Thank you… you look…" older, handsome, taller "You look good," you conclude with a sigh. "You grew your hair long." You point out the obvious, with a finger gesturing to the black hair that falls loosely down his back.

Apparently something you said makes him grin more, not to the point where he shows his teeth but you do notice the way his shoulders relax at your presence just a little.

"You don't have to hide from me."

"I wasn't," you reply without blinking, trying to keep the plastic smile.

You barely forget about the cigarette burning in your hand, so before the ashes land on your gleaming heels you bring it to your mouth taking a deep puff in search of, ironically, clearing your lungs. After pleading with your mother that you didn't want to attend her and Suguru's father's annual wedding anniversary celebration and she asked that you do so, you created a master plan for tonight that included everything from your hairstyle to your outfit, continuing with the dialogues you would hold and the posture you would assume the entire night… only your perfect plan didn't include your stepbrother cornering you alone like the wolf he is.

You extend the cigarette to him but he shakes his head taking the cup to his mouth instead, ironic, you learned from his vice. You wonder what else has changed in him these past few years.

Amber drops stick to his lower lip as he finishes his drink, which he soon swirls around with his tongue. You watch, unable to pretend you have no interest in him, perplexed that he still has the same effect on you.

"I should get back," you say in a voice that is raspy from the smoke, preparing to walk by his side unwilling to drag out the encounter any longer; however his long fingers tangle around your arm and that spark runs through your entire body.

"We didn't do anything wrong."

"I don't want to talk about it." You avoid looking at him at all costs, focusing on the silhouettes of your parents and their guests dancing in the living room.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you," he suddenly confesses and you hate him for doing this to you now, in the middle of such an important celebration for them.

"I shouldn't have come." You try to struggle against his grip to which he relents, only to seconds later grab you by both arms and slam you against one of the columns, in the background, a cicada screams as the guests rampage with a hubbub and your lungs empty from the impact.

Suguru just looks at you as his fingers burn marks into your skin and you wish you knew what was going through his mind… probably the same as in yours.

"We were kids," you try to explain as a last resort. "It was just a game." Suguru moves closer to your neck and you allow him to trespass your personal space, his natural scent clouding your senses and making you cling to his white shirt in search of stability.

Silently and with your breaths ragged and ruffled, Suguru blindly pulls your hand to his hips and you put up no resistance, then lower.

"This is what you do to me," he murmurs hoarsely. Your fingers feel his length through his pants, much fatter than you remember. Unexpected memories shame you, that should never have happened, you tried to run away from home in search of a fresh start but the images always came back to you tormenting you with the raw whip of morality. "Do you need me as much as I need you? Is that pussy wet for me?"

"Suguru…" you call out to him with weak knees, imploring him not to take you to a place you can't escape from.

"That's right. Say my name, your big brother is right here, let him take a look."

You whimper, more for lack of words or response than because you have any other choice, Suguru uses your weakness against you and that makes you feel frail, under his big fingers he destroys the mask that for so long it has taken you to form. His fingers are cradling your pussy above the fabric of your dress, tracing the labia up and down as he parts them at the same time with light pressure in search of your hidden clit, as soon as he finds it suguru starts a swirl taking his time to listen to your body and which way he caresses you is the one that makes you feel the most pleasure.

He helps you remove the uncomfortable belt around his hips so you can find his hard cock, unlike him, you search through the boxers to touch him directly and you both gasp at the contact.

"We cannot…" you try to elaborate, however Suguru shuts you up with a sloppy kiss, makes you swallow the words as he pushes his tongue inside you, touching your upper lip in a mess of saliva and tangling with your tongue as he pauses to suck on it a little.

"Open." As soon as he commands you, still touching you, your lips stained from the smeared lipstick open for him letting his saliva drip onto your tongue. You swallow and he smiles, it's exactly like before. "I'm going to spit again, but this time keep it in your mouth, okay?" your eyes widen a little at the demand and you don't know if he notices, though you do it anyway without protest. Your tongue rolls out and you give him a glimpse of your mouth, suguru purses his lips again and drops a big gob but this time you do as he says and instead of swallowing, you keep it there. "Good girl," he praises you right away. "You look so pretty with your mouth full so you won't tell me things I don't want to hear."

At that moment, he climbs up the skin of your thigh and tosses the already soaked panties aside to play directly with your needy clit. Each touch is heartbreaking, it's like it's the first time anyone has touched you in years, his caresses are tiny bursts of pleasure that climb up your belly and squeeze you from the inside— with one hand on your neck and one on your crotch suguru keeps jerking you off while he talks in your ear and tells you how much he's missed you, how much he needed to see you again, by this point your body was about to explode, your legs tremble and your nipples harden with each dirty word that makes his throat vibrate.

Suguru raises his hand to the level of your face and shows you his open palm as if waiting for something.

"Spit." Seeing the confusion on your face you make him smile, which has an effect on you that you hate. Without further hesitation you spit, and he takes his now wet and sticky hand to his cock to lubricate it and with the same soaked hand he gives two round strokes to your pussy, giving you to understand that he is preparing you for what is coming next.

He abruptly turns you over so that your back is to him while he grabs your hips and lifts your ass, you stand on tiptoe while hiding your face in your hands. Common sense begs you because you still have time, logic tells you that someone could be watching you from afar and that your relationship would be more than an embarrassment to the family, yet it's hard to think about the moment when the thick head brushes your swollen lips in a gentle back and forth.

"Is this okay?" he asks. "Can I fuck you without a condom?"

You can't think. You want to say you're not sure, but a hasty, "Yes," rolls out of you before you can stop it.

You can sense his hesitation in the way his grip weakens around your hips and by how he continues to outline your pussy lips up and down without deciding to thrust even though you are blindly seeking him with your hips.

You call his name, looking back to stare at his body bathed in the dim light; the dark strands obscure his gaze as Suguru just focuses on the image of you open waiting to be taken for him. Even in the absence of light you admire his jaw clench.

"I don't want our first time to be like this," suguru breathes, still not raising his head to look at you. Your brow furrows slightly in both frustration and confusion, after all he's been the one to blame for you getting to this point— your lips parted to complain at the same time his voice fills the place again. "Squeeze your thighs together." He commands back authoritatively without waiting for a no.

You do as he asks. With your eyes straight ahead, you focus on the column in front of you to which you cling for support and amidst the murmur of applause Suguru slides his hard cock in between your thighs after he has spit again.

The sound of his moans are drowned out by the din at close range, his hips thrusting and rubbing desperately against you in search of release. Your whole body feels hot in different places and for different reasons, shame and pleasure are those that stand out the most burning your cheeks and an oppressive sensation cracking your ribs.

The amount of saliva makes the movement fluid, just like a dance in which you help him by pushing your hips back to meet him in that back and forth in perfect unison. This leads him to cum soon, he lifts your dress to spill the ropes of cum on your ass ruining the harmony of your skin, then, still with fingers dirty from his own orgasm suguru pulls you to cling to his chest and from behind drags a hand down your belly to take hold of your pussy once more.

He forces you to look into the room as two of his fingers deep into you and makes you moan, taking care to steal a hard orgasm from you as his kisses make themselves present in your throat and his cum slides very slowly along your ass. His chest heaves with pride knowing that you will spend the rest of the party with his mark on you, as everyone laughs and celebrates a special occasion; his cum would be spilling down the length of your thighs.

He rejoices knowing you had come back to him.

"Meet me in my room at midnight," he whispers in your ear after depositing a tender kiss on your lobe.

#asks #lovers ₊˚ᰔ #man this was hard to elaborate because I've been working all day #and my mind is fried so sorry for the late reply :( i was just busy! sigh #but I always have time to stepcest content of course 💋#wr #cw stepcest #tw stepcest #geto smut #geto x reader

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pedropascallme · 3 months

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How about a fic where the reader also works at Smosh and they recently started dating but they haven't gone beyond kissing AND BAM FIRST TIME HAPPENS- really sexy, fluffy, gentle, maybe he picks her up a little bit, and they take time exploring eachother. You'd do so gooood! We truly need more Damien fic in this fandom 😭🔥

More, More, More

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: “You tilted your head, scanning his face; he blinked hard once, and fixed his posture, pushing his shoulders back slightly before relaxing them. Your hand trailed up his arm, tracing his tattoos and then loosely grabbing at his bicep.”

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) p in v sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, praise, uhhh some Hereditary spoilers I guess? If I missed anything please let me know!

AN: Not super proud of this because I've been studying all week and I feel like my lack of sleep did not contribute to this in any beneficial ways but I still hope you enjoy it <3

“Are you coming with us tonight?” You fell into step with Courtney while you walked down the hall and out of the office.

“No, I don’t think so,” you looked up from your phone, “promised Damien I’d watch Hereditary, and I don’t think he’d let me bail.”

She smiled at you, walking you to your car, “It’s a good movie,” she tilted her head, “And he’s a good guy. I don’t blame you for wanting to stay in.”

“Yeah, well,” you kind of clammed up, “He’s cute and I love a good beheading, so.” You laughed with each other before saying your goodbyes.

You’d been dating him for two months. And it was really and truly delightful; he was kind, and communicative, and above all so, so pretty. It had started so naturally, harbored crushes surfacing to reveal themselves at the right time, and progressed so smoothly, and you were thrilled by it.

Still, you let the familiar fear of rejection take control at times; the anxiety that maybe you were moving too quickly and that he was only a fraction as interested in you as you were in him. So the physical affection stayed surface level—literally—in that you kissed and touched but hadn’t gone beyond second base, if you remembered the laws of high school correctly.

And that was fine, and he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t put pressure on you to do anything you didn’t want—but you really did want it. You wanted to let him have you, let him take you in taboo ways and places. Maybe that made you a bit deviant, maybe even a little perverse. But it was hard to be with someone so…flawless, as far as you were concerned, and not want something like that, even when the voices in your head told you that you shouldn’t, or that you weren’t nearly as experienced as any of his past partners might have been.

Comparison meets joy, and stabs it right in the neck.

~~~

“Be honest with me,” you sat next to Damien on the couch, curling your legs beneath you and leaning over towards him, “Did you want to watch this with me just so you could hold me during the scary parts?”

“Yeah, but not for the reasons you think,” he draped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, “I’m fucking terrified of it, and I need my big strong girlfriend to protect me.” He smiled, clearly amused by himself, and you blew a piece of hair out of his face.

“Wuss.” You kissed him, hand toying with his collar, before sitting back and leaning on his shoulder.

“Yeah? Remember that you said that tonight when you turn off the lights.” He shot you a dubious grin before grabbing the remote. You watched the muscle in his wrist move when he pressed the buttons, captivated by the small details of his body and the way he mouthed the titles of the movies that popped up on the TV screen while he flicked through previously watched films.

You tilted your head, scanning his face; he blinked hard once, and fixed his posture, pushing his shoulders back slightly before relaxing them. Your hand trailed up his arm, tracing his tattoos and then loosely grabbing at his bicep.

“I’ll still remember you’re a wuss when the lights are off.” You mumbled, and he looked down at you.

“You seem so sure.” He watched your hand sweep over his arm, nails barely grazing his skin.

“You think I should be contemplating something else?” You goaded him, unsure of where the sudden confidence had come from and why it had appeared only now. “Don’t you want me to think about you when the lights are off?” You continued with your double entendres. You saw him swallow, and from your position, leaning over him with your hand now on his chest, you could feel his heartbeat pick up.

God, he was nice to look at.

“No, I do,” he put down the remote, reaching over to hold your chin in his hand and guide you up to him, “but I think my proposal might be a little more…vulgar.”

You smiled against his mouth when he kissed you, the leisurely pace allowing you to take your time tasting him, feeling the shape of him near you, on you. You sat up, giving yourself room to lace your fingers in his hair and pull him even closer, and he let you; an arm wrapped around your waist to secure you against him.

“You wanna watch this movie with me or not?” You quipped when you separated from him, and he smiled, shaking his head.

“Yes—yeah. I do want to watch this with you,” he paused, before continuing, “You, uh…you wanna tell me something?” He sort of shifted in his seat, tilting his head back on the couch cushions to drink you in.

“What?”

“Where that came from?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you played dumb, heat creeping up your neck and splashing your cheeks red; you tried not to lose your new surge of confidence, reassuring yourself that his line of questioning was a result of mutual excitement. You leaned over him to grab the remote and press play before you crawled into his lap to straddle him.

“You gonna watch this way?” His hands found purchase on your hips.

“I haven’t told you about this skill?” You kept up your act.

“No, I was unaware of the eyes on the back of your head,” he squeezed your hips and you hummed at the feeling, “But it’s pretty hot. I love a woman with twenty/twenty/twenty/twenty vision.”

You heard the movie play behind you; the score and the sound of voices droning softly. “Can I be honest,” you traced a finger over his collar, “I’m not that interested in the movie right now.”

“How dare you,” Damien feigned hurt, “This is a serious breach of protocol—” his hands crawled up your back before he stood, picking you up with him, and laying you on your back, caging you under him while you laughed from the adrenaline that came with being picked up and put down so quickly. “And I absolutely will not have it,” he kissed down your neck and you grabbed at his hair. “This switch up will not go unpunished.” He brought his face back up to yours and kissed you deeply, your hand tightening in his hair when his tongue slipped past your lips.

“Tell me if it’s too much?” He urged, nose brushing against your cheek when he broke away from you.

“Keep going.”

“You’re sure?”

“Damien, I don’t think there’s a sexy way to say this: I really want to have sex with you right now.” Your hand fell from his hair and trailed over his neck, stopping between his shoulder blades, and pulling gently at his shirt.

“Sounded pretty sexy to me,” he smirked, continuing his ministrations, kissing down your neck, lips stopping just above the collar of your shirt. He reached under the hem of the fabric, warm palms brushing against your skin while he explored you. You gasped when he cupped your breast in his hand, his free arm finding its way under your body to prop you up slightly and allow him easier access to you.

You’d done this before, had him touch you like this, but it felt so much more charged in this moment; the promise of more to come made you antsy in the best way, having previously stopped here. His hands kept exploring, with your chest, your stomach, and the curve of your spine all finding relief under his hands. You slid one hand under his shirt, desperate to be as close to him as possible; your other hand continued to tug on the back of his collar, encouraging him to rid himself of the layer of fabric.

He gave in to your silent request, pulling away from you momentarily to take it off before returning his undivided attention to you and, with his hands on your waist, bunching your shirt up at your sides, offered you another heated kiss.

You felt restless, wired by his touch and eager to feel him in the ways you had spent so much time imagining. Your hips bucked gently into his, and you heard his breath catch in his throat, his chest stuttering against you when you deepened the kiss, arms wrapping around his neck and one leg draped over him. Your hands trailed over his back, drinking in his frame above you. You tugged at his hair to disconnect momentarily, panting.

“Can I…?” His hand ghosted over the hem of your shirt while you looked up at him.

“Please.” You gave him the go-ahead, and he pulled you up a bit to help you strip off your shirt. He wasted no time, licking a streak across your collar bone before dipping his head down to kiss the valley between your breasts; he left open-mouthed kisses on the soft flesh and you put a hand on the back of his neck, unsure whether to enjoy the view or allow your head to loll back to fully embrace the feeling of his mouth on your body. His thumb grazed over one of your nipples, and you gasped at the contact.

“Beautiful,” he mumbled against your chest, focused on the way the emerging goosebumps on your skin felt against his tongue and fingers, “you’re so beautiful.”

“Damien,” you tilted his chin up in your fingers, “pants.”

“Fuck—right.” He tore himself away from you, hands flying to the zipper of your jeans to undo them and peel them off your legs. He toyed with the waistband of your panties, undeniably obvious wet spot soaking through with your desire, before lowering his face to your core and licking a stripe over your clothed cunt. You whimpered, hand reaching for his shoulder and squeezing, encouraging him to continue. He repeated the action, looking up at you from between your legs to watch your eyes flutter before you let your head fall back against the armrest of the couch.

“Can I take them off?” One of his fingers softly brushed against your clit over your panties.

“You can do whatever you want,” and you were only half-joking, so trusting of him and his intentions, “Take them off.”

Damien did as he was told, pulling the fabric down your thighs. He let one of his fingers trail up your slit, letting you coat it with your slick before using it to rub tight circles on your clit.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he had moved himself down the couch, propping himself up on his forearms above your core, and, using the position to his advantage, he licked into you, finally getting a proper taste. You moaned, a breathy sound that pushed all the air from your lungs, and it spurred him on: his tongue fucked into you while he used his finger to massage your clit, grinding his hips into the couch to find friction when you moaned his name.

He removed his finger from your clit, letting it trace over your hole before sinking into you; you let out a sigh of contentment, and he pumped it slowly in and out of you, taking your clit between his lips and sucking, before adding another digit. You mewled down at him, whispers of his name and begs for him to continue his movements, promises of how good you would be for him if he would just, please, let you cum. He moaned at your words, the vibrations shooting through your core, and when he sped up his movements ever so slightly, you were an absolute goner; one last swipe of his tongue over your clit in time with the push of his fingers against your walls had you crying out for him.

You gulped for air, dizzy with satisfaction, and when you looked down at him, he was already staring at you, his face painted with a dopey grin. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled, letting your head fall back on the couch. He climbed up and over you, kissing your forehead.

“You’re pretty when you cum for me,” he rubbed his nose against yours before moving to kiss your cheek, “wanna see you do it again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, lips brushing against yours and you closed the gap between them; you could taste the sweet edge of your own cum on his tongue.

“Make me.” You whispered against him, and he groaned into the kiss, pushing his hips against yours.

Hesitantly, he broke away, standing to undo his belt and undress. You watched, transfixed, eyes trailing from his collar to his legs. The background noise of the movie rose to a crescendo before falling quiet.

“Baby,” his hand fell over your face, cupping your cheek.

“Mhm.”

“We just missed the decapitation scene.” His words were laced with a faux disappointment, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

“Guess you’ll just have to bide your time until you can find the remote and rewind.” You pulled at his arm, and he crawled back onto the couch, positioning himself above you.

“I mean—if you insist,” he laughed, kissing your neck while he lined himself up with you. The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance and the mood returned to a more serious tone. “Gonna be good for me?” His forehead rested against yours, “Gonna tell me what you need?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, squirming just enough to feel a hint more relief with his cock so close to where you needed it. “Need you, Damien.”

“Good girl.” He pushed into you slowly, letting you adjust to the stretch as he went. Mouth open and eyes squeezed shut at the feeling, he moaned softly when he bottomed out. You clawed at his arms, pulsing around him.

“More,” you pleaded under him.

“Oh my god,” he keened at your words, pushing his hips into yours even further before pulling out to repeat the motion over again; long, languid thrusts filling you up, dropping kisses on any exposed skin you could reach on each other between moans. “Tell me—tell me how it feels, baby.” Damien whispered into the skin of your cheek, his words quiet in your ear.

“It’s so good,” you whined at the drag of his cock against your walls, tip pushing against your most sensitive spots with every roll of his hips. “Want it—harder, please, Damien.”

He gave in to your cries immediately; straightening himself out above you, one arm reaching for your leg to prop it up against his shoulder, he used it as leverage to pull you into him. You yelped, well pleased by the new angle and the deep push of his hips, eyes rolling back when he brushed your cervix.

“Christ, you’re so pretty,” he grit his teeth, growling his words, “You like that, baby? Like feeling me like this?”

Your face contorted into a hazy smile, ragged moans taking the place of a coherent answer to his question. You reached out for him, raising your arms to encourage him to drop back down to your level; he pushed your leg down, and you wrapped it around his waist when he leaned forward to kiss you, engulfing you underneath him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, trying to capture every inch of your body to bottle in this memory. You whined at the feeling of his stubble on your neck, the vague tickle making you giggle softly into his shoulder before your own moans cut your laughter short. He smiled, hips still driving into you.

“Doing so good, baby, give me one more.” He gave himself the space to snake an arm between your bodies, fingers deftly finding your clit and kneading it to pair with his thrusts. You arched your back, consumed by need, desperate to show him how good he made you feel. He sped up, movements becoming rougher the closer you both got to your highs; he rolled your clit under his finger and you gripped his bicep, nails threatening to break his skin as you came for him.

“That’s right—fuck, that’s my good girl,” He praised you while you trembled under him, cunt squeezing his cock while he drew out your orgasm. “So fucking good, that’s it.” He rambled, mouth agape once more as he hurtled towards the edge; after a few more deep thrusts, he pulled out of you, fisting his cock and spilling over your stomach with a moan of your name. His cum was warm on your skin, mixing with the sheen of sweat that had developed over you.

He slumped over you, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck while he evened out his breathing; you took deep breaths underneath him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your cheek into the crown of his head.

“That was,” he breathed against your skin, bringing his face to your level, and kissing your nose, “better than a movie.”

“That’s high praise.” You mumbled, letting him press a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I know,” he smiled, a familiar playful glint in his eye, “Don’t you feel honored?”

“So much,” you laughed, “and sweaty.”

He stood up, locating his shirt near the coffee table. He turned back to you, using it to wipe down your stomach and the wet that dripped between your legs, peppering your abdomen with kisses. One of your fingers scooped a spot he had missed on your stomach, and you brought it to your mouth to lick it clean.

“Damien…” you released your finger with a pop, and he returned to his spot on the couch, pulling you up to lean against him. He looked at you, silently pressing you to continue, eyes fixed on your lips, silently hoping you might repeat the action just so he could see it again. “Can we rewind the movie?”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head. “If you think you can get through it without getting distracted.”

“Mm,” you grunted, pushing yourself further into him, “no promises.”

#damien haas #damien haas fanfiction #damien haas smut #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #smosh smut #smoshblr #smosh pit #smosh games #smosh squad

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sageandravens · 10 months

Text

Patience - Something

Summary: Bucky and Sunshine’s first meeting

Featuring: Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Tony Stark

Word count: 1997

Warnings: Bucky being self deprecating. Tony being smug ass.

This was it. This is where all the hard work you’ve completed led you. All the sacrifices you’ve made to reach your goal has finally brought you to were you wanted to be in your career. Your background in Special Forces Night Stalkers Unit and your time in the CIA had caught the eye of Nick Fury, after all the constant training and tests and interviews, you found yourself staring at the grand building that was the Avengers compound. Pride swelling within your chest, this one achievement outshining all the others you have accomplished in the past.

To say that you were eager was an understatement. Your body vibrated with unrestrained excitement about meeting the people responsible for saving the world. People you had admired for their accomplishments. People you get to call your coworkers and maybe one day, your friends.

You carried on, practically skipping your way to the entrance of the building. Reaching the entrance, you smoothed your hands down the yellow knee length pencil skirt and adjusted your white blouse of the imaginary wrinkles that the nerves in your mind believed were there. With one last tug of your skirt, you plastered on a smile and walked to reception.

The receptionist had you sit on a nearby bench as she called to inform of your arrival. You smiled and greeted at whoever glanced your way and chatted with the receptionist in between her calls, your politeness helping you to pass the time.

“So, you’re the new recruit?” An amused voice snapped you out of your conversation with the receptionist. Looking to your left your eyes widened as they landed on Tony Stark himself.

“Mr. Stark! You’re leading my orientation?” You mentally slapped yourself as you straightened your posture. “I mean, yes, yes I’m the new recruit.” You offered your hand to the billionaire, internally holding back your excitement.

Ironman! Oh my god, oh my GOD.

“When I went over your file, I didn’t expect someone who was the personification of puppies and rainbows.” Stark stated. You quirked a brow at him.

“I was observing you from our security system on my way here.” He shrugged like it was no big deal for him.

“Ok, Bubbles. Let’s get this show on the road.” You grinned back at him, following his lead as he explained the workings of the compound and the work you will be doing within its walls. The whole time absorbing all the information that he spewed, asking questions, and matching him snark for snark.

Tony gave you a very grandiose tour of the facility, which you didn’t expect anything less considering his reputation. He showed you the gym, the dining facilities, the offices and the briefing rooms in the compound. Along the way, he had introduced you to some of the Avengers that you will be working closely with.

You hit it off immediately with Steve, who had congratulated you on joining the team and looked forward to working on missions with you in the future. You beamed at his praise and thanked him for being so welcoming.

Natasha took a little longer to warm up to you. Upon introductions she had stared you down while giving you a once over, making you feel as if she was trying to seek out anything that made you suspicious. She stepped back giving a nod to Tony.

“She’s good, welcome to the team.” You blinked at the abruptness of her departure, watching her as she walked down the hallway.

“You’ll get used to that, Bubbles.”

You and Tony continued on your tour, listening as Tony explained your moving in process. He lead you down another hallway with less foot traffic, you looked around at the various decorative art pieces along the walls, glittering light caught your eye, focusing on its source you saw it reflecting off a tall, muscular man ahead of you.

Reflecting off his metal arm. His very recognizable metal arm.

“Is that who I think it is?” You ask, catching Tony’s attention. He looked in your line sight and raised a brow.

“The arm doesn’t give it away?” You rolled your eyes at Stark. “I’ll introduce you, just don’t expect a warm welcome. He’s still a little frosty.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The metallic clang of the weights echoed throughout the gym. Sounds of grunts and bodies hitting the floor mats as agents trained and worked out all around the gym. It was almost mid morning by the time Bucky finally decided to put the weights down, having been in the compounds gym since five in the morning. Another night where a nightmare has plagued his already battered mind, usually, a couple of hours in the gym calmed him down but this particular nightmare he couldn’t seem to shake off.

The screams of the victims. His victims, still echoed in his mind, their horrified faces and their blood that he spilled was a slide show on repeat. The frown on his face deepened, matching the aggravated look on his face.

Frustated, he placed the weights back on the rack with a grunt. Pushing back the lose strands of his hair that escaped from his low bun away from his face he looked around, taking in all the agents around him. It was getting too crowded for his liking, and his anxiety wasn’t letting up, he gathered his items and trudged back to his room within the compound. Hoping a hot shower would ease his frazzled mind.

Bucky stomped through the halls, ignoring the way the agents and other employees quickly moved out of his way with worried looks. He knew they feared him, fearing that he would snap back into his Winter Soldier persona. Worried that whatever deprogramming they did in Wakanda didn’t actually work.

They should fear me. They’d be dumb if they didn’t. His face turned darker at the thought. He continued down the hall towards the elevator reserved for the Avengers that lead to the residential floor. The promise of a long, hot shower to process his racing thoughts and wash away the sweat from his extended workout this morning within a short distance. The hope of finally being away from lingering fearful stares and hushed whispers only an elevator ride away. He placed his hand upon the scanner built into the wall, waiting patiently for elevator to make its descent.

“Hey, Manchurian Canidate!” Bucky groaned at the sound of the irksome nickname. He silently prayed that the elevator doors would open at that second to make his escape. The frown on his face getting even deeper as he realized that his need to be alone was disappearing the closer as they footsteps approached him. Turning around, Bucky accepted his fate, hoping that his post workout odor makes this impending conversation short. Bucky was not in a mood for Starks antics today, or any day at all, really.

“Whoa, you are ripe! You know there are showers in the gym right?” Bucky rolled his eyes and grunted a response. The ding of the elevator announced the arrival of his belated escape plan, turning back around when Bucky entered the elevator and much to his annoyance Tony followed. The movement of someone clad in bright yellow caught his attention, tilting his head up, his eyes focused on the young woman standing next to Stark.

“Oh, by the way.” Tony passively gestures towards you. “This is Y/N. Our new recruit, former sergeant first class. She outranks you.” He added smugly.

Bucky refused to take the bait, giving Tony another short grunt, not even bothering to look at him. You looked at Bucky, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, the sweat clinging to his brow, evidence of his strenuous workout. But, you noticed something behind his blue eyes that spoke of something darker, an emotion that seems to plague him.

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you!” Your peppy voice rang in his ears. The joyfulness of your tone making him wince. He glanced back at you, your (y/e/c) eyes bright matching the smile that graced your lips, your hand reaching past Stark waiting for him to grasp it. Bucky just stared at it.

“Oh, well, I look forward to working with you and the others.” You say, the pep in your voice never faltered. You brought your hand back to your side, you had hoped that being your usually bright self, you would come off as a potential friend to Bucky and break the grumpy exterior Tony warned you about. No luck, not letting Bucky’s rebuff of your greeting bother you. Bucky’s eyes landed on your face once more giving you a confused look.

“I’m excited to learn how you and the rest of the team work together quickly. I know my skills will be of great use to you all. Maybe we’ll be paired up for a mission some time?” His lack of words made you want to fill the silence between you. You were alright with that, you understood that some people weren’t the talking type. Bucky’s stare made you continue on with your rambling.

“Since you know, we both have military experience. I think we would pair well with each other.” You smiled brightly once again.

Bucky continued to stare at you. Completely, blindsided that you continued to look him in the eye and talk to him without fear and worry. Did you not know who he was? Are you confusing him with someone else? Bucky shifted his gym bag on his shoulder, his grip on the strap making the mechanics of his metal arm begin to whir.

Well, if she doesn’t know who I am, she does now. Bucky frowned again.

Stark looked on between you and the living statue that was Bucky, getting some amusement from the completely polar opposite personalities in front of him. He watched on as you continued on with the one sided conversation. Smirking to himself as he watched Bucky become increasingly uncomfortable.

Ding!

Bucky let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as the elevator doors opened. He readjusted his bag, and quickly left, leaving you and Tony in the dust without so much as a goodbye. You watched as he walked away, the tension still present in his shoulders making you frown. He walked with a heaviness, a weight of bottled up emotions and dark thoughts. You recognized that stance, you’ve seen it with some of the soldiers that were under your command after grueling missions.

“Told ya he was still frosty.” Tony placed his hand upon your back guiding you out of the elevator to finish the tour of the compound.

“He’ll warm up to me, I’m sure.” You smiled at Tony with confidence.

“Hope you’re up for a challenge,”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that day Bucky exited his room. Refreshed and gym odor free from his long hot shower. It eased his mind somewhat, pushing back his memories enough to not be distracting. He walked to the communal kitchen of the residential floor, his stomach begging for some leftovers from the night before. Popping in a plate of some leftover fettuccine into the microwave, he leaned against the counter waiting for the time to go off.

Steve sat at the kitchen island across from him, with a cup of coffee in his hand looking at the file in front of him. He glanced over at the file that had his best friend so intrigued. He noticed that it was your file.

“Have you met the new recruit yet?” Steve asked him.

“Yup.” Bucky replied, popping the P. Steve continued to flip through your file, feeling impressed more and more with all of your achievements.

“She’s something, isn’t she?” Steve started with with awe.

Bucky thought of your bright smile, your relaxed and bright presence. He thought of you carrying on introducing yourself, never stopping even if he was not responding. But what he thought of the most was how you didn’t have fear in your eyes.

“Yeah, she’s something.”

#bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #marvel

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cupcakeinat0r · 4 months

Text

Broadway Baby ch.2

Happy New Year, Pookies!!! Here, as a treat<3

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: The new patron has a thing for you.

Warnings: NSFW, masturbation, mutual pining, and fluff ( a lil more plot building still, sorryyyy <3 )

Tags: sugar daddy AU, Miguel is a lonely+horny Dilf (not for long), reader is latina-coded (written by a Latina), yummy age gap

Word count: 5k

Ch. 1

“She’s very pretty”, “She is, isn’t she?” Miguel responds to his enthused daughter. The whole way home, she went on and on about the show they had just watched, the main item of her praise being you.

Her little voice, filled to the brim with elation, yapping about the way you danced and “how high her legs can go!”, your effortless pirouettes, the effortless vocal olympics, and your convincing storytelling that had Gabriella hanging onto every single word you delivered. Little did Gabriella know that her father was watching with the same amount of revere, only difference is his eyes may or may not have gotten stuck on your sculpted legs and fat ass a few times. His thoughts had strayed in those moments, imagining what great pillows your thighs and juicy derrière would make. He’d rub his stubble as he fantasized about stuffing his face between them, eating your pussy out like a wild animal until his face was covered in your juices. He clenched his jaw trying to dismiss any other lewd thoughts and actually pay attention to the plot of the story.

Once Gabriella was bathed, changed into her unicorn pjs, was read her bedtime story and given her goodnight kiss, Miguel turns the lights out, retiring to his study; a corner of the house that he spent majority of his time in.

It was no question that Miguel felt lonely for the past 4 years, and in these hours late in the night, he felt especially lonesome. As he walked through his two story, million-dollar home toward his study, it was very quiet. It felt cold and empty. Miguel stops and looks around at the living room, hands on his hips, letting out a discontented sigh, the only light coming from the moon through the glass sliding doors leading to the enormous backyard.

It was like this every night for the past 4 years.

He’d pick up Gabriella from either day care or her grandma’s place, feed his child, prepare her for bed, then go to his study to do even more work, his only motivation being to provide for his precious daughter; his entire world and reason for living. Days like these where he was able to take Gabriella out for daddy-daughter dates weren’t as frequent as he wanted them to be. When those days did come, though, that was him driving her all over the city to do whatever her little heart desired. Ice cream. New dolls. The Park. If she named it, she’d have it.

He turned the light of his office on, then plopped down on his leather chair, tired eyes boring into a computer screen. This man had horrible posture. Normally, he’d be able to accomplish a couple of hours worth of work then head to bed, but he’s sat there for like 15 minutes, and hasn’t even done a single thing. His mind was on something else.

He turned from the computer and grabbed his phone sitting next to him. He unlocks it, going to the photo app and pulling up the picture he took about an hour ago.

The photo of you and Gabriella.

His tired eyes faintly lift, his lips curling into a soft smile. Still holding onto the phone, he props his head onto his elbow on the desk, his hand resting against his chin and mouth, staring at you.

Your smile is the first and foremost thing he notices, studying and admiring it. Your soft and full lips carving into the most gorgeous smile, one that he could’ve sat and stared at all night long. The way your eyes sparkled, falling on the camera beautifully.

You just emanated this warm glow that he felt like he needed more of; the very thing the house was lacking.

He then studied your body, remembering the way it looked up close when you had stood from kneeling for Gabriella and thanked him for coming to the show. All the right curves in all the right places. The way your leggings hugged your hips, the crease where the top of your thighs and butt met, resembling an upside down heart. Your thick thighs that looked like they belonged to a goddess. You were a total babe.

An idea flickered in his head.

He sat his phone down, returning to the computer and started typing. Hunched over the keyboard, he typed in your full name, remembering it from the playbill that Gabriella kept showing him before and after the show, clicking ‘search’ and finding all that he could get his hands on.

Mans was down bad. If only he knew you were on the other side of the city thinking of him, in bed, your hand in your panties rubbing your wet clit, breathlessly moaning out ‘daddy’ while replaying the same 2 seconds you had with him in your mind because that’s all you had to cling onto.

He managed to find a ton of stage pictures of you, a few premiere photos, as well as some modeling gigs you did a while back. Mierda, Que hermosa (fuck, how beautiful), he whispers to himself.

He also found a couple of videos of you, too. He immediately clicks on one of them, it being an interview for one of the shows you did last year. You were so adorable. He couldn’t help but fold his arms on the table and rest his head there, watching the video completely smitten by you and your little mannerisms, your accent, and soft giggles. You were so humble and down to earth, yet you demanded respect and exuded power. Fuck, it was hot.

It’s been a minute since Miguel had been back in the dating realm, but he needed to get to know you so badly. Even just a chance with you. He didn’t know you, the only insight to your personality being all the interviews he just binged watched, but he felt like you were just perfect. It was like a thousand hands pushing him toward you.

Adding another tab on his computer, he researched the theater that you were currently working for. He reads that they were looking for a new patron…

Who better than the CEO of Alchemax, right?

Miguel sits back with a smug look in his face, his hands floating to the back of his head as he relishes in his newfound pursuit. The opportunity was too good to pass up. Your theater will definitely be receiving a call in the morning.

Just as he was about to exit out of all his tabs and head to bed, the tab on you made him do a double take. There was a video he missed, one of you doing choreography… the thumbnail showing you in six inch heels and nothing but a sports bra, fishnets, and a thong.

It was a hip-hop heel class you had taken recently in the city. Your friend was the choreographer, and they were always so fun to attend! Miguel clicked on it instantaneously, curious as to what it was. The video starts, and the next thing he knows, all of his blood is rushing toward his cock. You were a little too good at throwing it back, hitting the splits like it was nothing, your long dark hair all tussled and messy. He could feel the crotch of his pants tightening, his breathing becoming labored. You occasionally would stare into the camera with the most seductive glare, his manhood twitching in his pants at the sight. You were mouth-watering. He bit at his bottom lip, hand gradually making its way under the table and mindlessly unbuckling his pants. God, how he wished he would’ve said something back at the theater when you were signing Gabri’s playbill. Maybe he would’ve gotten your number or at least something, then taken you out for the boujiest dinner, send Gabriella to her grandma’s so that he could fuck you dumb in his bed afterward, telling you that you can dance, sing, or act all you want for who ever, but at the end of the day, this pussy was his.

But no. He wussed out and stayed quiet, so now he’s in his study, watching you shake hella ass for the camera, head thrown back, murmuring curse words in Spanish, his thick, angry cock freed from the restraint of his slacks, and his thumb circling his already dripping tip, teasing himself before pumping real slow and trying his very best to replicate how it would’ve felt had it been your plump ass bouncing on his dick instead of his hand.

“Mierda, necesito ese coño tan mala… ah fuck…”

(Need that pussy so badly)

He’d periodically look down at the screen to watch the way your body grinded and jiggled, the slick sound of pre-cum against his calloused hand and his own groans filling the study. His pace on his girthy cock quickened as he got close, the other hand white knuckling his leather chair, and his brows furrowing in pleasure as he got more and more desperate.

“Aw f-fuck, fuck, fuckk-…” he whimpered through gritted teeth as he neared his peak. His hips lazily bucked into his fist once, twice, and three times until he came, strings of come spilling back on his hand, lap, and lower abdomen.

Miguel was a horny man with a capital H. The poor guy hasn’t had sex in 4 years… he has needs. As a matter of fact, this was a nightly thing, this just so happens to be the first time he had a specific person in mind, that person being you.

Yes, he might be the most eligible bachelor in Nueva York (and the richest), but Miguel has his reasons for being single all these years. Like you, Miguel was a picky guy, especially since Gabriella is in his life.

For starters, he didn’t want to rush into any relationship. Moving on from the death of his wife was already hard enough. Then, actually getting a second date after sharing that he had a daughter was almost impossible, so he sort of stopped trying at some point. And most importantly, Miguel wanted someone that was willing to love Gabriella like she was their own. He wanted someone that Gabriella would approve of more than anything, because the last thing he wants is for Gabriella to feel like she has a ‘wicked step-mother’ like the ones she watches in her cartoons. These reasons and a bunch of others were factored into why he hasn’t been in the game, until you, that is.

So far, you seemed to check all of his boxes.

What he wants to know is if he checks all of yours… and he’ll find out soon. He just had to be patient now.

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

Here he stands, on the stage with you, the cast, and your director. He’s just dropped 10k on the house, with two conditions that he:

- Gets a say in casting

- And has access to the theater

In return, the house gains an extremely lucrative patron and a very good business man. It was a win-win deal.

Being a geneticist, he didn’t know the first thing about theater. He’ll deal with that later. The mission at hand was to get your attention.

Whilst your director introduces him to the cast, his eyes travel across the stage and it’s actors, seeking out your beautiful self.

There you are.

Both of your eyes meet, and after smiling back at him, you look away, flustered. He was happy to know he had an effect on you. His eyes traveled down your figure. If this is how you dressed for rehearsals, he wanted to be present for all of them. Still looking down at the floor, bashfully smiling, you can feel your body heating up, an effect of Miguel’s eyes trailing all over you. You feel naked and like your under a magnifying glass.

He quickly had to refocus himself, almost forgetting he was there when he hears the director call his name.

Once Miguel gives his few words, your director sends you all back to rehearse. Miguel takes a seat amongst the ocean of velvet chairs. He can afford to spend an hour or two to observe. He was the CEO of his company, anyways. He was his own boss. He could do whatever he wanted.

Now you were getting nervous. Had you known he’d be sitting in and watching, you would’ve tried a little harder on your outfit and makeup.

You try to disguise your timidity as tunnel-vision focus as you finish stretching for the day, your eyes maintaining an inward gaze. As a little treat, you decide to show off a bit. A small, spontaneous burst of boldness, if you will. You get into your splits, leaning your head back and lifting your back foot, so that they meet in the middle. You do the same for the other side. Next, you hit your middle split, chin on the floor and all. And last but certainly not least, you stand on your feet, and while balancing on one foot, you lift the other so that your knee meets your chest, and extending it into a beautiful leg extension hold.

You do all this and act as if Miguel isn’t right there, practically drooling. It was like you were putting on a little show for him.

You lil minx.

And it succeeds it’s job, too. Seeing how bendable and supple you were, Miguel is literally losing his mind, going rock hard in his pants. Good to know he could bend you into a pretzel as he bullies his cock into your luscious cunt. Thank God he decided to sit a few rows back because surely someone would’ve noticed the tent forming on his thigh.

After finishing your stretch, you stole a quick glance his direction, averting your gaze just as hastily. He had that same cold stare that he had when walking in. He was a bit hard to read, but the hopeless romantic in you wanted to keep trying to get his attention without having to outwardly ask for it. You had hoped that those smiles he had given you last night and this morning were something more than just friendly.

“Alright, guys, gals, n’ everyone in between, let’s take it from Act I, scene 3, please. The blocking for that was iffy last night, I just want to go over it and drill it real quick.”

Just your luck. The starring man of your sexual fantasies shows up to your place of work and the first thing you’re asked to do is your solo. Just great.

He was here last night watching you, you can perform in front of him again. Not that deep.

You’ve literally been performing for almost 7 years now, you should be over that “stage fright” phase by now. At least you thought you did until this fine ass man showed up. Now you were shaking like a leaf. You swallow your doubts down, taking front and center. You can’t see it due to the intensity of the stage lights drowning everything out, but Miguel smirks as he sees you take your place, his crimson eyes not looking at you but looking into you. If it was up to him, the whole show would just be you.

The accompanist starts the song. You take a breath, and you just let go.

Like always, your voice is divine. The vibrato fills the room, your dynamics are bewitching, and your tone provides tranquility. You really were an angel up there. Miguel relaxes in his seat, his face muscles unwinding from how peaceful your voice sounds. He honestly could listen to you all day. He closes his eyes, creating a scenario of you and him in his home. He’s imagining you singing just like this, but with Gabriella in your arms, who is falling asleep peacefully. He smiles at the thought as he takes in your angelic voice. He’s startled by an eruption of applause and hollering. That’ll be your cast mates cheering you on for your performance, meaning your song was over. Miguel begins clapping as well.

“Good girl, y/L/n! As for Soraya, Vincent, and Mira, y’all’s port de bras were still a bit off-“, the director continues giving notes to your other costars as you break from the rest of the group, going on a water break. As you take a sip, you take a look over at Miguel, who happened to also be looking at you at the same time, so you immediately look away.

Go say something, idiota! (Idiot) You yell at yourself in your head. You should! The man has been eyeing you since he walked in here. He won’t you!!!

Stop acting like a child and say hi. You’re literally just gonna say hi. That’s all. Can’t possibly mess that up.

You’re already walking in his direction, rehearsing the different potential opening lines over and over again in your head.

Miguel sees you walking toward him in his peripheral, and he mentally celebrates. To be honest, he had actually planned on coming to you first, but he was just waiting until you weren’t busy with rehearsal. He’d hate to interrupt your work, but with you coming over, he wasn’t gonna protest.

The sooner, the better.

As you near his vicinity, your heart beat quickens. You hated initiating conversation. 99% of the time, you didn’t even know if what you were saying made sense, but you felt like you had to say something, even if it was a simple ‘thank you’ for his generosity toward the show and the house.

He sees you approaching him, offering you a warm smile as he sits back on his seat. You accidentally look down and see the way his jeans strain around his thick thighs and his still very obvious excitement, and Miguel catches this, quickly covering his hard dick by crossing his legs.

Dirty girl. You’re not as innocent as you look.

You immediately look back up and you’re now standing in front of him.

Act like you’re normal, Puta! (Bitch)

You push any and all anxiety downwards in your body and give him a cheesy smile best described as one that customer service workers give. It doesn’t matter that you were terrified of socializing, it’s time to put those acting skills to work and portray the most sociable person possible.

“Hi! Gabriella’s father, right?”

Miguel stands from his seat with a smile, dwarfing you when he does. “Yea, that’s me! Last night, she couldn’t stop talking about the show or about you. You made her night. It was a struggle getting her to fall asleep, actually.” He ends with a chuckle. It was such a simple gesture, but it was one that could’ve made you fold like a beach chair. You chuckle as well, your hands slightly shaking from the possibility of stuttering or stumbling on your words like you normally did when nervous. English wasn’t your first or strongest language.

Which, if you did, Miguel would’ve thought it was incredibly adorable.

“Aw, I’m glad she enjoyed it! As for bedtime, I guess I’ll take the blame, sorry for that!” You finish with a giggle, your voice as sweet as sugar. When talking to someone new, you always had that Disney princess voice. You don’t why, it’s just a habit. Miguel finds it cute, your breathiness and sweetness going straight to his cock, so that’s a plus.

“No, please, no need to apologize, really. Seeing her like that makes me happy. Thank you for that, and… for saying all those things about ‘following her dreams’. You know, I’m always telling her she could be whatever she wants, but it’s different when you hear it from someone else, someone you idolize. It also means a lot to her to see someone who looks like her on the stage, so… thank you for doing that for my daughter.”

He speaks so gently with you, a completely different tone from what he had used earlier this morning when speaking to the cast and director (and at his work, but you didn’t know that). You’re having to listen with even more intention than normal since if you don’t, you might get lost in those kissable lips of his. It was starting to get annoying. How dare he have those plump lips and you can’t kiss’em.

“Awe, oh my goodness, it’s my pleasure. That’s why I do what I do!” You say with a wide smile, which softens when you meet his gaze. You can feel yourself begin to calm down around Miguel.

“Well, now it’s my turn to thank you. I just wanted to let you know how appreciative I am. I know I can speak on behalf of the cast and crew and say that… we’re all extremely thankful of your generosity. It means a lot to us.” You fiddle with you fingers a bit as you speak, your eyes occasionally meeting the mahogany of his gaze before shying away again.

Miguel’s face softens at your gratitude and your evident shyness. Now he’s the one looking down with a giddy smile. His smile alone made your pussy quiver. Something’s meowing down there.

“You’re very welcome. After last night’s performance, I had to get involved. Besides…” he took a step closer, prompting you to look up at him, your smile faltering as your nerves fired up again. He was looking down at you, those broad shoulders practically casting a shadow over you, with that intense glare again, like you were forbidden fruit. You looked nervous with those innocent doe eyes, but on the inside, you’d never been more aroused in your life.

“I had to repay you somehow.” He says with a rather husky tone. You can only achieve a meek smile, your thoughts running with the multiple ways you wanted to be held by this man. With how low and gravel his voice sounded, something within you was unleashed; something that you’ve never experienced before. You could feel a flipping sensation in your stomach. You could’ve sworn your cunt was throbbing. You’ll have to change your thong for sure after this.

“I, um- well- thank you!” Is all you get out. Your mouth felt dry.

Muy bien trabajo, pendeja (Very good work, stupid).

“Well… sorry, I should probably get back to work“, you stutter. “Oh, of course, please, no need to say sorry. I should be the one apologizing for keeping you from rehearsing, sweetie.” He says, his hand grazing your side, making that area of your body tingle. Oh, your knees almost gave out. You had to escape the scene immediately or else you’ll burst right then and there.

You’re almost turning to walk away, giving him a small wave when his hand reaches for it.

“Encantada, y/n (nice to meet you) .” He says, the breath of his voice tickling your hand before planting a soft kiss. He pulls away with a small smack. The way his eyes peer from under his lashes as he holds your hand for a moment is making you melt. He stands straight again so that he could go back to his seat, and you return to the rehearsal.

“Egualmente, Mr. O’Hara.” (Likewise)

You’re gonna need new panties.

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

As the days go by, Miguel starts showing up to rehearsals more and more. The two of you had this unspoken routine; the occasional glances you’d steal of one another, the ‘accidental’ brushing of hands, etc. As a matter of fact, you two have formed a bond, having short conversations here and there during breaks and intermissions. Miguel had become interested in your background, how you got into this industry, what training was like, and sooner or later, he’d start asking more personal questions. Questions like how’d you grow up, what you do outside of theater, etc. You were really glad to be able to connect over being Latin, sharing one another’s experiences that were unique to being Hispanic.

Yes, you were glad, but you were also a bit disappointed. You’d started forming a major crush on the older man, and it didn’t help that every night you came home, you’d lay in bed and fuck yourself with your fingers wishing it was his much thicker ones. If he hasn’t made a move at this point, surely it meant this was all he saw you as. A friend. You were being antsy, though. It’s only been, like, a week since he’s become the patron. You were over thinking again.

Miguel was just as happy to have gotten to know you. With each conversation he had with you, he was just falling deeper and harder. He had you right where he wanted you. It was only a matter of time before he asks you out. His patience was wearing thin, though, as he fucked into his hand each night pretending it was you. He’d call out your name, imagining how tight and warm that cute pussy of yours would be. He often wondered if you tasted as sweet as your personality. His dick leaks with precum just at the thought of it. He just had one more thing up his sleeve…

One afternoon, the show was cancelled due to technical difficulties, so you decided to rehearse in the studio backstage. You were practicing your solo, playing on the piano as you accompany yourself.

Being deep in your own mind, you didn’t realize that someone had walked in on you during the second verse, the tall figure leaning against the door frame as they watch. When you were finished singing your song, you hear clapping that scares the living daylight out of you.

“Oh!” You instantly jump up onto your feet, startled.

“Ay, perdoname (oh, forgive me), I didn’t mean to scare you.” He chuckles with his hands raised in surrender.

You let out a heavy sigh of relief, a small laugh falling from your lips as you do, “oh, it’s alright, don’t worry. I was just practicing.” You say, a shade of pink beginning to form on your cheeks. Miguel walks over to you, leaning on the other side of the piano. He wears a suit and tie, muscles bulging out of his shirt and pants, and his hair neatly slicked back. It takes everything to not reach out and touch them. He’s doing this on purpose. It’s not fair.

“I was dropping off another check to the directors and chatting with them for a bit just now, then I heard the most beautiful sound from backstage as I was leaving, so I had to investigate.” Miguel shoots you a knowing smirk, the ones that always made your knees buckle. You giggled, looking down again as to avert you blush from his gaze. “Oh, you’re just saying that.”

“I’m serious, y/n. You’re extremely talented. I’ve actually been meaning to ask you…”, he rubs the back of his neck.

Oh god, this is it. This is the moment.

“… if you give lessons?”

Wait, what?

“Como?” (What?)

“Well, you’re obviously multitalented and have an extraordinary gift, and I was wondering if maybe you’d give lessons to Gabriella, if you’ll have her?” You only look at him blankly, trying to process his words.

“I’d pay you, of course. Name your price, anything. You would come over and teach her. She’s been dying to learn and I was hoping to give this to her as her birthday present coming up.”

You cleared your throat. This was not what you were expecting.

“I-I don’t really teach… um… H-however,” you looked at Miguel’s eyes, and they were almost pleading you to take this offer. Gabriella seemed like an adorable little girl as well. Before you could finish your response, Miguel adds, “And just to make sure you have time for the lessons, I’ll pay you way more than what the diner is paying you right now, so you could leave that job if you’re comfortable with that.” This offer is sounding even more enticing.

You giggle at his eagerness. “Well, what I was going to say was, it’d be an honor. Gabriella seems like a total angel, and I’d love to teach her.” Miguel smiles warmly at your acceptance. “muchas gracias, y/n. I really appreciate this. Now, let’s talk business-“

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly name a price, I-I would even do it for free-“ Miguel waves his hands at you, brows furrowed, “Absolutely not. I wanna give you what you deserve. Name your price.” You think hard for a moment. You think back to your older friends who’ve been teaching young children for years and what prices they charged. You hated asking people for money. You hesitantly propose a starting price. “Seeeventy?” Miguel raised his eyebrow at this. “Is that for a one hour lesson?” “Claro (of course), I’d be teaching her one hour of piano once a week.” Miguel chuckles at this which confuses you. You’re so cute. So innocent.

“Alright, sweetie, let’s take that seventy and triple it, because I’d like for you to come in three times a week. One for piano. One for dance. One for voice. Let’s call it $600 per week.” Now you were the one chuckling. “Mira (look), I’m no mathematician, but last I checked, seventy times three does not equal 600.” He shrugs. “I might’ve rounded up a bit.” You shot him a concerned and confused look. “Look, sweetheart, I can afford it. Let me give this to you, por favor?” You felt bad. You didn’t want to take advantage of him, but he seemed like he really wanted to give this to you for whatever reason. Maybe since you’ve been a good friend?

“Wow, Mr. O’Hara-“ “Please. Miguel.”

“Well, Miguel, this is extremely generous of you. I-I don’t know what to say.” “Just say you’ll accept.” He says with a soft smile, his hand out for you to shake. You look down at it. You gently reach out, his hand taking yours and it feeling severely small in his. You both shake hands when you almost get lost in each others eyes. His hand feels so warm.

It’d look better around my neck.

You feel his thumb softly rub a circle on your hand. You both kinda wanna stay here, but you end up shying away, clearing your throat, “well, I look forward to coming in…?” “Tomorrow. Are you available tomorrow?” “Sure!” “Awesome. Here, add your number.” He says, giving you his phone. As you excitedly add your number, you both bask in this newfound partnership.

“Great. I should be getting back to the lab now, there’s this important project I should be overseeing.” “Oh, please! Go!,” you say, shooing him away, “Break a leg!” You use theater talk, which Miguel has been getting a hang of. He lets out a small laugh as he leaves. “Gracias, hermosa (thank you, beautiful),” he winks at you.

You blush at the sudden nickname and flirtatious gesture. The way his low, stern voice calls you little pet names creates a pool in your panties. You give him a small wave as you watch him leave. Your eyes never fail to fall on his irresistible tight butt. It should be a crime for a man to look this good.

Miguel leaves the theater feeling like a total champ. Everything is going along just like he hoped they would with you. Now he was gonna see how you were with Gabriella.

Then he’ll make his move.

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

Hope you enjoyed!!! I promise, there’ll be toe-curling smut in the next chapter<3 Imma make it up to y’all<3

Hope u liked it. Until the next chapter, mwah <3

Ch. 1

Ch. 3

- Princess<3

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the-guilty-writer · 11 months

Text

So Much

Request from anon: Hi if your comfortable with it do you think you could do like goth teen reader who scared to come out as gay to her father or the group. Who their father is doesn't really matter. I can barely find fics like this, and if your not comfortable with the topic that's completely fine. Thanks

Aaron Hotchner x teen!reader

Summary: reader comes out to their dad as gay and his reaction is not what they expected.

A/N: *extreme sarcasm* Gill writes a character differently than expected… no way?! In all seriousness though, my approach to Hotch’s reaction might be controversial, but I wanted to capture how I think he expresses love. There is a happy ending of course <3 and Happy Pride everybody. Everyone is welcome here and I care for every single one of you.

This is a request, but is a contribution to the PRIDE CHALLENGE

CW: Haley is reader’s mom and she is in here a fair amount but no mention of reader’s appearance, lots of up and down emotions, Hotch’s reaction could bring up feelings about the sad reality of the safety of the world for the LGBTQ+ community

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You looked yourself up and down in the mirror, trying your best to look casual. You forced your wringing hands to your sides, though they still trembled. A large exhale released some of the shoulder tension, but not enough. Any tell in your body language would be easily caught onto by your dad; Aaron Hotchner wasn't the BAU Unit Chief for nothing.

For weeks now, you’d been rehearsing the composition of your posture in front of a mirror while thinking about the words you were going to say. You had the speech perfected when you were staring at your bedroom ceiling in the dark alone. When you practiced it out-loud, you stumbled over a word or two, which was better than it had been at the beginning; your jaw would lock up in anxiety, unable to get out any words at all.

The first time they slipped past your lips, just for you, it had felt like freedom - in an empty school bathroom you looked yourself in the eyes.

“I’m gay.”

And just like that, the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders.

“I’m gay,” you had repeated to yourself, and that time it made you smile.

The time after that, it made you laugh. You said it until you were practically dancing alone in the space, feeling so light, so free after so long hiding who you were, even to yourself.

Coming out to someone for the first time wasn’t even on your mind when your best friend walked into the bathroom to find you. You’d been so high on joy that there was nothing stopping you from telling them, and having them join in on your dance. You considered yourself lucky that the first time happened on accident. There was no room to hide from at least one person in your life. You were met with their support and it seemed like it would have been easy to tell the other important people in your life.

It hadn’t been.

You weren’t sure why— you’d grown up in an open-minded, loving family. Not once had a seed of doubt been planted in your head that they would reject you, but there was always the dreaded what if? that crossed your mind. The infinitely small chance that it wouldn’t be okay to them held you back.

It felt silly - almost stupid - how many weeks it had taken to look at the photo of your mother that sat on your nightstand and whisper to her in a trembling voice, “Mom, I’m gay.”

She had been dead for years. There was no risk of disapproval, being looked at differently, even of her ever loving you less. But it was the first time coming out to someone felt like it mattered.

All you could do was hold the frame to your chest and cry silently in the dark, imagining that she was there to wrap you in her arms, hearing her sweet voice speak the last words she ever told you: “I love you so much.”

That was the silent promise you held onto as you padded silently past your brother’s room and to the living room. You settled your hand on the outside of your pants pocket where you had been carrying around a small picture of her for weeks now. I love you so much.

“Hey, Jack’s in bed and you don’t have school tomorrow, so I was thinking we could stay up late and watch a new movie.” Your dad came into the living room, dressed in a casual tee shirt and shorts, just like it was any other day. It wasn’t just any other day.

“Yeah, sounds good.” You swallowed down bile.

“You want popcorn?” he asked.

Part of you wanted to explode - to forego the monologue you’d been planning for weeks now. How could Hotch not see the stiffness to your posture and worry in your eyes? Could the man who profiled people for a living truly not see how his own child wasn’t acting normal? But all you could manage was a “Sure,” and he left for the kitchen.

The anger dissipated when he left, and you found yourself sitting on the couch, fumbling with the remote in shaking hands. You scrolled through the titles, landing on the one you wanted and sat. Never had you felt so stiff in your own home.

Your dad walked in with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and two cans of soda in the other. He handed one to you and you took it, murmuring a thanks under your breath. That’s when he paused.

“Are you okay?” He sat down next to you and put the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

In a sudden rush of anxiety, you grabbed it and wedged it into the small space between your leg and his, where it always was during movie nights so both of you could reach. Except now, you felt the need to have a physical barrier between the two of you. Maybe you felt the salty snack could soften the blow of what you were about to tell him, or maybe you just needed to feel that normalcy in case it changed everything.

“I’m uh-” the well scripted, even more well rehearsed words were nowhere to be found inside your head. You sighed. “Dad, I want to uh… tell you something.”

“What is it?” He was looking at you concerned. Still, Aaron Hotchner’s “look of concern” was ever intense. You thought about your mom’s gentle eyes, her soothing voice...

I love you so much.

“I’m gay.”

A beat of silence.

Numb anxiety caused you to turn to face your father, but you couldn’t read his expression, not with the surge of fear that had taken over your brain.

That moment seemed to last forever - you, staring at him, searching the line of his brow or the curve of his mouth for any reaction. Him, staring back at you…

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You blinked, taking a second to comprehend his words, working through the tension. “Uh, yes?”

“Has anyone tried to hurt you?” Your dad’s eyes shifted to gaze down your arms to your knuckles.

“What- no! Of course not.” You shifted in your seat and Hotch’s eyes came back to your face. “Dad, didn’t you hear what I just told you?”

“Yes,” he said. “I need to know that nobody has hurt you.” He paused. “The world isn’t always nice to people who don’t fit their ideals. You have to promise that you’ll call me if you ever feel like you’re in danger.”

And that was that - your father’s version of I love you so much:

I would die before I ever let someone hurt you simply for being you.

“I promise, dad,” you said, holding back tears, though a few must have slipped down your cheeks because he raised a gentle hand to wipe them away. “So you don’t- you aren’t-”

He shook his head. “I care that you’re happy, and that you’re safe.”

“I’m happy, dad,” you said, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. “And I’m safe.”

He wrapped a gentle arm around your shoulder and pulled you into a hug; the place you would always feel and be the most secure in the world.

“I love you,” you told him quietly.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “So much.”

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner x child!reader #hotch x daughter!reader #hotch x child!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x platonic!reader #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x child!reader

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maneskinwh0re · 1 month

Text

“you want me to break you.” ~ fem loki laufeyson x fem reader

one shot, smut, 18+

this is porn with a plot. freak level 100. 3.4k words. yes, i’m ovulating. cw: 18+ dom!loki, fem!loki, loki x reader, begging, edging, teasing, embarrassment k!nk, knife play, cuffs, blood, praise, degradation, punishment kink, semi-public sex

read at your own risk babes. first time writing smut and my hormones did not hold back !! idk if i like this or not lol but i have more in the works xo

“tear you apart” by ‘she wants revenge’ while you read >:)

cred to loki concept artists - got these pics from insta and pinterest like a year ago

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location: asgard

you pace the golden palace halls as you wait for thor and the warrior’s three to return. it’s been a few hours now, and your mission is only a simple weapons transfer across realms. once everything is in order, you plan to return to midgard, aka earth, and assist the avengers in whatever is next on the heroes’ roster. the sun has set and multiple asgardian moons are shining bright lights across the galaxy’s sky.

the sound of light steps echo the hallway as you walk, until you decide to lean against one of the wide, golden pillars that reach up to the high ceiling. with a heavy sigh, you close your eyes for a moment, wondering how much longer thor is going to take in the council meeting. when you open your eyes, thor’s sibling is staring at you only a few yards away, leaning on an opposing pillar. your startled gasp made her smirk, her emerald green eyes never leaving yours.

loki has heard stories of the midgardian avenger, often by eavesdropping on thor’s babbles of his “heroic adventures.” and you’ve heard stories of her, but often spoke with negative qualities through tony stark’s gritted teeth. you have never seen the goddess in person. her dark hair falls on her shoulders and a dark green corset hugs her hourglass figure. she wears black pants and tall black boots that reach her thighs. a fluffy, light-gray coat drapes over her while the tall horns on her golden helmet curve upward. she definitely looks like a goddess, but you internally curse yourself for the thoughts you have of the villain.

she slowly toys with a dagger in one of her slender hands until she finally speaks.“hello, mortal,” her voice is smooth, fit for a princess.

“loki,” you nod, crossing your arms over your chest. you know you shouldn’t be conversing with her. hopefully she’ll leave you alone if you ignore her gaze long enough.

loki sees your ignorance to be a challenge, of course, so she walks closer. “may i ask what you’re doing in asgard?” her tone is sweet as she raises an eyebrow curiously.

you inhale slowly as you think of a response. how much does she know?how much should she know? you assume not much and that you should keep it that way.

keeping it vague, you reply, “um, well…i’m here for a mission, under the avengers initiative.”

loki smiles sweetly as she stops in front of you. “mission? avengers initiative? oh my, how cute.”

you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach over loki’s closeness. “it’s classified.”

“classified?” loki hums, looking down at you. “do you wish to tell me more? i’m very curious, y/n. just between the both of us, of course…” she leans closer, putting the dagger she was playing with in her thigh holster in order to give you her undivided attention.

“i’m terribly sorry, your majesty,” you reply in a sarcastic tone, smoothing out the fabric of your black training suit. “but i’m afraid i cannot disclose any more information.” you straighten your posture against the pillar and find some enjoyment as you tease loki. “not unless i could get…something in return.”

she thinks to herself with a smirk, then raises an eyebrow. “ah, something in return? what is this something that you expect me to give you, mortal?”

“again,” you whisper, looking her up and down. “classified.”

“you know, mortal, it’s really unfair if you don’t tell me anything whilst i’m standing here with such curiosity. i want to know,” she leans in closer, her lips brushing your ear. “what is this classified information you are hiding from me, darling?”

you close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of loki’s cold breath on your ear and neck, her scent of rain and oak filling your nose. she pulls back as her hand moves to your chin and turns your face to look up at her. your eyes flick open as she forces you to look up into her dominant gaze.

“it’s not worth your valued time, your majesty,” you breathe, speaking honestly. “only a weaponry transfer across realms. nothing more.”

loki’s fingers slowly move down to the zipper on the front of your skin-tight black suit. “nothing more? what if we make this mission a little more personal?” she asks flirtatiously as her hand begins to pull at the end of the zipper.

a moment of clarity hits as you realize you are both still in the open hallway. your lips part as you breathe heavily, grabbing loki’s hand to pause her movement. you look left and right, searching for any working guards or wandering civilians.

“what if someone-” you begin to ask worriedly until loki backs you behind another nearby pillar.

“that is why you’re going to be quiet for me,” loki whispers against your neck, her free hand beginning to roam. “no one will see you but me.”

she continues to try to unzip your suit, ignoring your hand lingering on the back of hers as her fingertips brush against your skin. “you need to be a good girl for me and let me unzip it…”

you start to focus on your breathing once again. you keep your hand on loki’s wrist but your resistance lightens, allowing her to move your suit’s zipper lower until the fabric falls slightly off your shoulder. loki’s fingers and thumb brush against your bare skin under the suit, teasing you until her lips coat light kisses across your collarbone.

“good girl…let me undress you, darling. you’re mine after all.”

a soft whimper escapes your lips as you allow her to remove your black suit. she helps guide your arms out of the sleeves and lets the top half of the suit roll down to your hips. a shiver runs up your spine as the cold night air hits your skin. loki’s gaze darkens as her hungry eyes lower to your breasts.

“gods, you’re so beautiful…,” she praises as her hands caress your thighs and slowly work their way up your torso. “yet so fragile. i could break you in half.”

“then do so,” your voice shakes as your hands tangle in loki’s dark hair, tugging on it slightly. “break me, princess.”

something inside loki snaps instantly as soon as those three needy words leave your mouth. she pushes herself against you as her lips latch to yours in a passionate kiss, gentle and warm at first, until her tongue enters your mouth as her hands travel up and down your thighs, squeezing them tightly. after a few moments, she starts biting and pulling at your bottom lip with her teeth.

the way loki kisses you brings up a moan from the back of your throat, a sound that only drives her crazier. her lips leave yours and you immediately try to catch your breath. she then bites down on your neck, leaving marks and hickeys that will only darken in time. you feel a drowsy heaviness pull your head back, resting against the pillar as loki pants into the nape of your neck.

your hand trails up loki’s arm and shoulder until you reach one of the horns on her golden helmet. you tug on one of the horns, subconsciously trying to pull her head downward for a moment before you realize what you’re doing.

“y/n,” loki warns, biting harder as one hand grips your waist and the other pulls your right thigh up to her side. she presses her hips against yours, grinding hard as she resumes suffocating you with open-mouthed kisses. your body tenses at the pressure, moving your hips in hopes to find more friction.

“loki…please,” you groan as soon as her tongue temporarily leaves your mouth. your fingers tug at her green and gold armor, craving her body even if that means you’d have to pry every layer of her clothing off yourself.

loki lets you move and squirm, all while still holding your right thigh against her left hip. she slips her free hand under your suit to start rubbing slow circles on your clit through the silky fabric of your underwear, bringing another whimper from your mouth.

“you want me to break you?” loki whispers into your ear, continuing the many pecks and bites to your neck. she sucks slightly on your collarbone until your nails are practically digging into her corseted waist. “such a naughty girl. let me punish you…”

you can feel yourself grow wetter with every filthy word that leaves her lips. you look up into her eyes and nod as a consensual gesture for her to be rougher with you, not being able to wait any longer.

“punish me, loki…please.”

“that’s it, darling,” she lowers your thigh as she kisses down your body until she is kneeling in front of you, her hands caressing every one of your curves as she moves. she then roughly pulls the rest of your suit down your legs until it pools at your ankles. her thumb resumes the achingly slow movements to your clit through your underwear as her fingers press against the dampening fabric covering your vagina.

“f-fuck,” you curse as both your hands grip the horns on loki’s helmet, using it to stable your legs’ weakening balance.

“easy, dear,” she says. “watch that pretty mouth of yours, or i’ll put it to good use.”

“i…” you breathe, trying to form an argument back, but loki’s thumb starts to move faster before you can think to stop yourself from cursing again. “oh- fuck!”

“ah, you little brat.”

she then quickly rips off your panties and stands up abruptly. she grabs your jaw and forces two fingers into your mouth. you don’t hesitate to shamelessly suck on her fingers. they’re in for only a moment before she pulls them out and wets her thumb with her own tongue. she then lowers her hand and you feel those same two fingers being pushed inside your wet cunt.

a pained yell escapes your mouth until it’s muffled by her free hand. her thumb resumes rubbing circles on your clit at a quicker pace than before, helping the ache turn to painful pleasure.

“shh, remember what i told you, hm? i said you need to be quiet for me,” loki shushes you. your legs are already struggling to support your body while the knot in your stomach grows.

your whimpers and moans are muffled by loki’s slender hand, forcing you to control your breathing through your nose. her thick gold rings are cold against your cheeks. both your hands grip her wrist, inhaling and exhaling unsteadily as your eyes catch the dagger sheathed in her thigh holster. when loki realizes what you’re looking at, she pauses her movements with a smirk and pins both of your wrists to the pillar above your head, not even bothering to wipe or suck your juices off her fingers. you let out a frustrated groan over your delayed release and squeeze your thighs together, feeling embarrassed on how loki caught onto what you were eyeing.

“how cute,” she whispers against your lips, her taunting tone and cold breath flowing into your open mouth. “is that how you want to get punished, my adorable slut?”

you press your lips together to stop yourself from whimpering again, only having the ability to nod in response. loki moves her fingers down to the holster and removes the knife. she then brings it up to your throat and presses the side of the blade against it. the threat is somehow arousing in a way you have never felt before. you wonder how far you’re willing to go. then wonder how far the villain is willing to go…

“do it, then,” you say with a challenging tone and a raised brow, half confident that loki is bluffing. part of you hopes she isn’t. “you won’t, princess.”

“oh, yeah?” loki looks playfully offended, tilting her head to the side as she studies your nervous breaths. her lips form a sly smirk on her face as she trails the cold blade down, past her leftover bite marks and down to your chest. she presses the blade against your skin harder, not quite drawing blood, but definitely causing enough pain for you to try to maneuver yourself away. “how about i carve the letters of my name right here across your breasts, you little brat?”

you suck your teeth as the pain grows. you squirm in loki’s grasp and lick your lips. “once again,” you chuckle softly and smirk back up at her. if you are going to do this, part of the fun is the fight. “you won’t do it.”

loki’s lips form a slightly cruel smile. a thin, red line appears on your skin, causing you to hiss out a groan. the pain doesn’t get any easier as you feel a bit of warm blood trickle down your breast before another line is slowly carved, creating an “L” shape on your lower chest. loki goes to continue the three remaining letters, but your struggle to stay still makes her pause. she uses her magic to create green, transparent restraints out of thin air, keeping your wrists pinned to the pillar before teasingly pressing the tip of the blade to the center of your sternum.

“is that all the punishment you can handle for now, little brat? are you gonna stay still for me now?” loki lifts your chin with the end of the dagger, watching you find the strength to nod and recover slowly. you try to ignore the painful reality carved into the skin of your breast. while you don’t yet regret challenging loki’s bluff, it still hurts like hell—like a good hurt…for now at least. you nod in answer to loki’s question before looking at her lips. she reads your expression, understands your nonverbal request, and willingly gives herself to you.

she hums into the kiss, a moan following shortly after as you lift a knee and push it up between her legs. her tongue enters the kiss as she throws the dagger aside, the clattering noise loudly echoing through the hallway. both of her pale hands cup your face, expressing how gentle she now wants to treat your fragile body.

you try to move your arms to hold her closer, caress her curves, tangle your fingers in her hair—anything, but you can only tug at the restraints created by her witchcraft abilities. “lo…,” you pant between kisses in her grasp.

loki notices, but doesn't care. she continues to enjoy caressing your face and body for a few more moments. her hands finally travel lower until her damp fingers reach your sensitive nerves, your aching cunt still craving the delayed orgasm from earlier.

“beg for it,” she coos as her fingers tease your entrance, coating her digits with your wetness.

“loki,” you protest, bucking your hips up slightly in hopes for resumed friction.

“don’t make me repeat myself.” loki’s tone is stern. her free hand squeezes one of your breasts and pinches your nipple, bringing another pained moan from the depths of your throat. you felt so weak already, but loki intends to fuck you as long as you can still stand.

“please, princess. i…i’m begging you. p-please,” you whimper, your back arching against the golden pillar as you continue to squirm under loki’s teasing grasp.

loki grins at the sound of your little whimpers and begs as her thumb adds pressure to your clit. “don’t you dare move now, darling, not until your princess decides you can cum. you understand?”

“yes, lo…” you gasp as she pushes two fingers into your wet cunt. you so badly want to continue to squirm and beg, but you know better now to follow commands to stay still and quiet. your chest unsteadily heaving up and down is the only movement loki allows as her digits pump in and out of you at a slow pace. “m-more…”

her smirk widens at your stuttered request, moving her fingers faster as her mouth reconnects with yours, swallowing every whorish sound you make as she fucks you. your eyes squeeze shut and your jaw locks, trying not to hiss curses through clenched teeth. your faint words are stuttered between soft, breathy moans. “loki…oh, god- i…i’m-”

“i know, my dear. i’m right here. gods, you feel so good wrapped around my fingers…just in a panting mess like this,” loki whispers seductively as her fingers continue to move faster and faster. she kisses the skin beneath your ear between praises. her grip on your breast tightens as she presses her body against you. her pace is perfect. it is all too much, yet not enough.

loki’s lips kiss your cheek before whispering in your ear. “cum for me, darling…”

her thumb presses hard against your clit, and at her words, your body follows her command. the tightness in your abdomen unknots as you release a high-pitched moan that causes a greater effect on loki than you know. she is practically soaked from watching your pleasured reactions. she does not rush you to open your thighs as you ride out your orgasm against her palm. she enjoys the feeling of her hand trapped between them…as well as the thought of what it would be like for her face to be in her hand’s place instead. her kisses are gentle and slow, finding a steady rhythm to allow you breaks in between to catch your breath.

“you’re such a good girl. doing exactly what she’s told.”

the restraints above your head fade away, and you practically melt into loki’s arms. your head feels as light as a feather and every nerve in your body is relaxed. you feel loki’s palm on your breast, resting over the “L” she cut into your skin. a comfortable silence falls between you two as you lazily wonder why her hand is subtly glowing. you know you will never be able to explain how she heals you, even as you watch the tingly green magic flowing from her palm into your sore muscles. once she removes her hand, it’s like there is no trace of the injury, to the point where you almost ask if it was ever there. loki brushes a strand of hair away from your face and kisses the bridge of your nose. with a single motion of her fingers, your black training suit is rolling up until it is snug on your body, with no trace of her hungry hands pulling at the fabric minutes prior.

as if on cue, you hear the double doors at the end of the hall open, making an unmistakable creaking sound notifying you the council meeting is over. stomping noises of guards lined in pairs and the confident voice of thor reverbs off the walls, causing you and the goddess to shrink further behind the wide golden pillar.

as you smooth out your hair, she adjusts her helmet and attempts to play with the small weapons in your belt. you swat her hand away as thor, odin, and rows of asgardian keepers pass by, sounds of their armor clanging and clashing.

thor’s words boom above all the noise to instruct a young palace maid to fetch you from your chambers, where you’ve supposedly been told to wait during the meeting. steps at the volume of a mouse scurry off towards the direction of your quarters.

as soon as all footsteps recede, loki’s arms wrap around your waist from behind and cling tight, her chin resting on your shoulder.

“surely, you’re not leaving for midgard now. are you, darling?” she pouts.

you chuckle for a moment until you realize she is serious. “i do have to go, princess.”

“and there is no way i could…convince you to stay?” she purrs, nibbling at your ear.

“i know you could, and that’s why i need to leave now before you get the chance,” your voice is soft and teasing. “but if there is another…weaponry transfer…i’ll make sure to travel along.”

the goddess of mischief reads your honest facial expression and kisses you. a gentle goodbye.

“that’s my good girl.”

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as much time as i spent working on this…i don’t like it >:(

my wife deserves better smut than this smh

requests are open babes <3

-bee xx

#bee #maneskinwh0re #lesbian #fem loki #loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki series #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #mcu loki #marvel mcu

64 notes · View notes

seraphdreams · 1 year

Text

PART II — BLINDING LIGHTS.

“sin city’s cold and empty”

CONTAINS. fem!reader, fingering/cunnilingus, bimbo reader <3, haitanis being asses, squirting.

TODAY’S RACERS. senju kawaragi v. manjirou sano.

WORD COUNT. 1.9k.

LINKS. series masterlist — general masterlist.

Onto the second race—The most anticipated so far; tonight’s set of racers were tinkering with their bikes. Sounds of sonorous music from overhead speakers, the revving of engines, and a pleasant fuse of chattering were heard from the main gate. After the events of the first race, you accompanied Koko, helping him collect more money while sitting pretty on his lap. The others didn’t have to know that you were cockwarming him as well, it shouldn’t come as a surprise with the way you practically writhe in his hold.

The bets being placed seem to favor one side over the other which raises your query. “Haji, who’s racing this time?” He’s silent as if your words fell flat once they managed to leave your lips and you wait, hoping he’d respond in the next few seconds. Of course he doesn’t and you call out for him again. “Haji!” He’s finally snapped out of his money-induced focus, snake-like eyes locked onto yours. “Hm?”

You sigh, almost defeated before starting up. “I asked who was racing tonight. Don’t the bets seem a little unfair?”

He sets the money down onto the table behind you. “It’s a bet, of course it’s unfair.” He straightens his posture, lithe hands coming to rest at the plush fat of your hips. “We got an amateur up against Mikey. She’s stupid if she thinks she has a chance.”

“She?” You perk up, a bit more immersed in the topic at hand. “Who’s she?”

Koko’s eyes relax and his pupils narrow as if he’d grown annoyed. He goes back to counting the fat wad of cash, making sure the amount remains consistent. “Sanzu’s little sister.”

Before you had the chance to react, the blaring music stops and the announcer starts.

TEN MINUTES TO RACE 2.

Had you not heard Mochi’s voice on the speaker, you’d forget that you actually have a job to do. You hastily make your way off Kokonoi’s lap, attempting to not wince at the friction while patting your skirt back in place. “Gotta go, Haji! Put $1,000 from me to Senju, please!” You sing-song, trotting in Miu Miu heels on the way to the main road.

“I swear, that girl..” Koko mumbles under his breath, more affectionate than vexed, tucking himself back into his slacks and continuing with the task on hand, setting your specified amount into Senju’s pile.

The racers’ garage space was feeling tense compared to the previous race. Whereas Baji and Kazutora exchanged playful banter, there was silence between Mikey and Senju. Heel trotting filled the silence as you walked onto Mikey’s side of the garage. He really seemed to never want to let that CB250T go, instead having his “anii-ki”modify it once every few years.

“How’s it going, Boss?” Mikey’s kneeled against his bike, seemingly messing with the engine—or maybe it’s the gas? You weren’t too into motorized vehicles but you knew they looked nice. He looks up at you through strands of ivory white hair, his familiar emotionless glance. “It’s good.” He wasn’t much for conversation, especially with you, yet it wasn’t enough to get your spirits down. “Good luck with the race, i’m sure you’ll do great!”

For the first time that you’ve seen it, a hint of a smile quirks on his lips. He softly nods his head and continues to tinker around with the large piece of metal. You redirect yourself to Senju’s side, almost in awe at her setup.

“Senju!” You beam, taking in her appearance. She’d always been a gorgeous girl but seeing her in her tight black biker suit, cherry blossom embroidery around the ankles with the zipper showing an overflowing amount of her chest, you’re left speechless. “Hey, cutie.” She responds, wheeling her bike out of the garage. You get the incentive to follow her along, assuming she’s heading to the start line. “You look so pretty! Forget what the others say, I think you’re gonna win a hundred percent!”

Her eyes widen in adoration, matching your unshakable optimism. “I know I am! I’ll have those fuckers amazed.” You nod along with her, eyes flitting from her cleavage to back to her emerald orbs. She really did resemble her brother in every way. Soon after, Mikey also makes his way to the start line. It’s about two minutes to the race and you make sure to give each of them a kiss on the cheek before heading to your position in between them with your flags in hand.

Ran, Rindou, and Sanzu watch from above on one of the higher floors, looking down at the events taking place beneath them. “God, she’s cute.” Rindou groans, a glass of dark sake in his hand as his older brother hangs off his shoulder. “That’s your little sister, right, Haru?” Ran queries, finding the utmost entertainment in how Sanzu glowers at him.

“Maybe we should fuck her in the back of our car later, yeah? What do you think, Rinnie?”

Rindou takes a quick glance at Sanzu before looking at his brother. “I think that’s a great idea.”

Sanzu’s quick to find somewhere else to watch the race, ticked off at their usual Haitani antics. “You both disgust me.” He growls out, pouring himself a glass of Whiskey. “Love you too.” Ran throws over his shoulder.

FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE!

The racers take off on the track as soon as your checkered flag grazes against the pavement. There was no denying the excitement welled up inside you as you watched the race go on. It seemed like a close match all the way up until the end where Senju pulled her speed out of nowhere, being the first at the finish line despite her lack of racing experience.

She hops off her bike, taking her helmet off and tussling her hair back in place, the widest grin on her face. “Congratulations, Sen! I told you, you’d win for sure!” You hand her the gold trophy with another peck to her cheek. Mikey comes in soon after, looking at the scene in disbelief.

“Guess I lucked out, Invincible Mikey.” Senju taunts at her opponent, nonchalantly waving her trophy around in one hand.

After her bout of throwing jeers at Mikey, you begin to speak again. “Why don’t we celebrate a little in your room?” You suggest. With the quirk of her brow, she knew exactly what you were suggesting, wrapping her arm around your waist and leading you up the steps. “Why don’t we?”

Following her to her suite took less than an ample amount of time, the two of you dexterously sifting through the crowd of people awaiting the next race. Once you got to her room, she sits at the edge of the bed, slowly unzipping the one piece as if she had planned on teasing you.

You watch as her breasts spill from out of their tight confines, pert nipples hardened and slightly lacquered in sweat. “No bra, Sen? Bold girl.” The last words come out as a softer whisper while you make your way between her thighs, kneeling. “Just thought it’d be more comfy.”

Once the zipper reaches its stop at her lower abdomen, she’s slipping out of her outfit, discarding the garment off to the side and leaving herself in nothing but pink lacy panties. The damp spot of her slick is visible through her panties from where you kneel, eyes locked on how she throbs even without touch. Little by little, you pull her thong down until it ruffles at her ankles, slipping them off completely and tossing them to the side. She’s wet, puffy folds covered in essence and clit twitching ever so slightly; as if it’d been awaiting you.

Carefully, you delve your tongue into her core, keeping it still for a short moment until you begin to use the muscle to aid in her pleasure. “A-ah!” Docile whimpers fall from her lips at the initial sensation and her hands grasp at her chest, kneading the flesh as if it’d give her leverage in some way. It was cute how quickly she reigned flustered. The light dusting of pink across her cheeks complimenting her angel-like features in the best way. On behalf of her tomboy-esque facade, she was quite the pillow princess.

Her little cunt tightens around your tongue, a slow rocking rhythm building up within her body as she throws her head back. The rising and falling of her chest in tandem with those cute fucking whimpers has one hand dipping underneath your pleated skirt, middle finger lightly rubbing your clit. “Please—Please don’t stop..” She rasps, light and airy voice coated with desperation. You opt to replace your tongue with your fingers, stuffing two of your digits inside her hole while your tongue flicks at her clit.

Louder and louder, her moaning gets, as if she shredded her sense of shame and gave into the temptation of pleasure. You switch between licking to sucking on the sensitive numb, watching how she grows dumber and dumber from each touch. The fingers on your clit work faster and so do the digits pumping in and out of Senju.

You might as well have been making out with her pussy the way you sloppily sucked and licked at her clit and folds. There’s no doubt she’s close when you feel her core tighten around your fingers. “G-Gonna make a, fuck, big mess..” She whines through soft mewling. Your fingers work at lightning speed to inch her closer to sweet release, your own orgasm building within you.

You watch her abdomen flex and relax repeatedly as if a surge shot through her, the warm sensation of liquid orgasm dripping from your fingers and down her thighs. You drink in all she has to offer, continuing to lick at her clit, reveling in the way her pussy spurts more and more essence in her aftershocks. You moan against her heat, feeling your own release just seconds away.

Before you could even react, your body is convulsing and cunt creaming all over your fingers. You were rather sensitive from previous activities which heightened the intensity of your orgasm, sonorous cries leaving your lips.

The two of you take a haste moment to collect your breathing, slowly peeling away from each other. “Sen, you’re so pretty when you squirt.” You compliment as you slide into her lap. She leans back amongst the sheets naturally, strands of soft pink haired splayed across the fabric. “‘S real embarrassing.” Her response comes out in the form of a light chuckle, quickly getting silenced by your cum-slicken fingers pressed to her lips. Instinctively, she wraps her lips around the digits, closing her eyes and moaning at the saccharine taste of you. When you pull your fingers away, you make sure to give her a salacious kiss to her lips.

The kiss grows deeper until you’re quickly pulled aback by firm knocks to the door.

“Next race starts soon.” The voice from the other side says. You come to recognize it instantly as Mikey from his monotonous airing. You hop off Senju’s lap, attempting to clothe her with one of the blankets on the bed before heading to the door.

“What a sore loser.” She states as you walk off, and just before opening the door, you reply.

“I know, right?”

#senju x reader #senju kawaragi x reader #senju smut #mikey x reader #mikey sano x reader #manjirou sano x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers smut #mikey smut #tr x reader #tr smut #senju x you #senju x y/n

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jackles010378 · 3 days

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Love Beyond the Badge ❤️

Beau Arlen x y/n

No warnings needed just pure fluff! 🥰

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with strokes of orange and purple as Beau Arlen leaned against the hood of his truck 'pedro', the metal cool under his arms. The day had been long, the kind that tested a man’s spirit, and it was in these quiet moments that his thoughts drifted to his deputy, Y/N.

He heard the crunch of gravel and turned to see Y/N approaching, her silhouette framed by the fading light. “Evening, Sheriff,” she greeted, her voice steady as ever.

“Evening, Deputy,” Beau replied, pushing off from the truck. He hesitated, a battle raging within. The dream he had the night before flashed in his mind, vivid and stirring. It was unprofessional, perhaps even foolish, but the truth clawed at him with an urgency he couldn’t ignore.

“Y/N, can we talk? Off the record?” he asked, his tone more serious than she was used to.

She nodded, curiosity lighting her eyes. “Of course, Beau. What’s on your mind?”

He took a deep breath, the words he’d rehearsed suddenly clumsy on his tongue. “I had a dream last night,” he started, “about you. It was… it was more real than any dream I’ve ever had. And when I woke up, I realized that it wasn’t just a dream. It was how I truly felt.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and something else Beau couldn’t quite place. “Beau, I—”

“I know we have our duties, our responsibilities,” he continued, cutting across the space between them. “But I can’t shake this feeling. It’s not just respect or camaraderie. It’s more than that, and I think… I think you might feel it too.”

There was a pause, the world holding its breath. Then, softly, Y/N spoke. “I do. I’ve felt it for a while now, but I never thought—”

“That it could be mutual?” Beau finished for her, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

She nodded, stepping closer. “We have a lot to figure out, Beau. But yes, it’s mutual.”

The confession hung in the air, a fragile truth that promised to change everything. Beau reached out, his hand brushing against hers, an electric connection that felt like the first piece of a new beginning.

Flashback:

The air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and the promise of winter. Beau Arlen had been the sheriff of Helena for just over a year now, a position he took with a mix of pride and solemnity. The town was small, but it had its troubles, and Beau was determined to be the steadfast hand that guided it.

It was on a day like any other that he first met Y/N. He was at the local diner, a steaming cup of coffee in hand, when the bell above the door jingled. In walked a young woman, her posture confident, her gaze scanning the room like she was taking in every detail.

Beau’s curiosity was piqued. He watched as she approached the counter, exchanged a few words with the owner, and then turned to survey the diner. Their eyes met, and Beau felt a jolt of recognition, though they had never met before.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” Beau called out, standing up.

She walked over, her hand extended. “I’m Y/N, the new deputy in town. I was told I could find Sheriff Arlen here.”

Beau took her hand, the firm handshake speaking volumes of her character. “That would be me,” he said with a smile. “Welcome to Helena.”

They sat down, and over cups of coffee, they talked about law, order, and the quiet life of a small town. Beau was impressed by her experience, her insight, and the way she seemed genuinely interested in making a difference.

“I’m looking forward to working with you, Sheriff,” Y/N said as they parted ways that day. “I think we’ll make a good team.”

Present day:

And they did. Over time, they became a unit, a duo that the town came to respect and rely on. But as they worked side by side, the seeds of something more began to take root, something that went beyond badges and duty.

After the day they acknowledged their mutual feelings, they decided to step beyond the boundaries of work and explore the possibility of a personal connection. Beau wanted to make their first date special.

The Montana sky was a canvas of stars as Beau picked up Y/N from her modest home on the outskirts of Helena. The air was filled with the scent of sagebrush and anticipation. Beau had chosen a quiet spot by the lake, away from the prying eyes of the town, where they could talk freely.

Y/N stepped out, her usual uniform replaced by a simple dress that fluttered in the evening breeze. Beau couldn’t help but notice the way it made her eyes shine brighter than any star above them.

“Ready for an adventure?” Beau asked, offering his arm.

Y/N smiled, taking his arm. “With you? Always.”

They drove in comfortable silence, the familiar hum of the engine a soothing backdrop to their thoughts. When they arrived, Beau led Y/N to a clearing where he had set up a picnic. A checkered blanket was spread out, and candles flickered in mason jars, casting a warm glow.

They sat down, and Beau handed her a plate filled with homemade sandwiches, apple pie from the local bakery, and a thermos of hot chocolate. They talked about everything and nothing, laughter mingling with the soft sounds of the night.

As the night deepened, Beau took a deep breath. “Y/N, I’ve been a sheriff for a long time. I thought I knew what it meant to protect and serve. But being with you, it’s like I’m seeing the world anew.”

Y/N reached across the blanket, her hand covering his. “Beau, I’ve always admired you, respected you. But this,” she gestured around them, “it feels like we’re discovering a new part of life, together.”

They leaned back, watching the stars, their hands entwined. The night was peaceful, a gentle reminder that sometimes the most significant moments come when you step out of your comfort zone and into the unknown.

2 year time skip:

The morning of the wedding dawned clear and bright, the sun casting a golden glow over the town of Helena. The ceremony was set in the open expanse of the countryside, where the mountains stood as silent witnesses to the union.

Y/N stood in front of a full-length mirror, her wedding dress a masterpiece of lace and love, tailored to echo the strength and grace she carried herself with. Her badge was pinned close to her heart, a symbol of her commitment to her town and her soon-to-be husband.

Beau, dressed in a suit, waited at the altar, his heart full. The guests were a mix of townsfolk, family, and friends from near and far, all gathered to celebrate the love that had blossomed in the most unexpected of places.

As Y/N walked down the aisle, the world seemed to stand still. Beau’s eyes locked onto hers, and in that moment, they knew that every challenge, every shared glance, and every quiet support had led them here.

The ceremony was heartfelt, with vows that were more than just words. They were promises etched into their very beings, pledges of partnership in life and in the pursuit of justice.

“I, Y/N, take you, Beau, to be my partner in life, to stand by your side, to share in your laughter and your silence, to always seek the truth with you, and to uphold the law of love above all else,” Y/N vowed, her voice unwavering.

“And I, Beau, take you, Y/N, to be my partner in life, to honor our badge and our bond, to face each day with you with courage and compassion, and to always keep our love as my guiding light,” Beau promised, his words a solemn oath.

The exchange of rings was not just a formality but a sealing of their fates, intertwined and unbreakable. And when they were pronounced husband and wife, the applause that rose was not just for the union of two souls but for the hope and strength they represented.

The reception was a lively affair, with dancing, laughter, and stories shared under the starlit sky. The couple’s first dance was to a song that spoke of enduring love, their steps a dance of unity and mutual respect.

As the night drew to a close, Beau and Y/N stood together, looking out at the faces of the people they protected, served, and loved. They knew that their journey was just beginning, but they were ready to face it together, as partners in every sense of the word. "I love you Sheriff Beau Arlen", "and I love you Deputy Y/N Arlen".

Awww don't you just love Beau 🥹🥰 hope you enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it ❤️

TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck @angelbabyyy99

#jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ross ackles #beau arlen #beau arlen x yn #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen fanfiction #beau arlen fluff #beau arlen fan fiction #beau arlen fan fic #beau arlen fanfic #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x y/n

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two-white-butterflies · 1 year

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Coaxed You Into Paradise - c. 2

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)

masterlist for this series

Chapter Two: Dragondreamers

When Aemma Arryn was heavy with her second-child, Viserys would speak about a dream – that this child would come out and wear the crown of Kings. When Saera Targaryen was born, her father expected a little boy, but received another girl.

There were no feasts or tourneys.

Visiting lords would wear black, and offer their deepest sympathies. Saera’s birth was a tragedy – another failure of siring a son. Her mother tried again, she promised to bear a son – but she will fail. The Queen will not birth sons, rather dragons of impunity.

Aemma Arryn’s first daughter, Rhaenyra was bold and forged of fire, her hair was the lightest shade of ivory – she walked around court with a fiery aura, lighting the realm on fire. She was called “The Realm’s Delight” and all that saw her, claimed that she was the most beautiful maiden in all the seven kingdoms.

Her youngest daughter, Saera was the opposite – she was demure and quiet, naive to the world around her. Her hair was a darker shade of white, her eyes were a lighter shade of purple – she was hardly noticed around her father’s court. They provided no title, nor songs filled with admiration – but she was the white dragon. The blood that would save the realm.

She leaned slightly at the rim of the royal-box. Saera dreaded tournaments, they were more akin to plays rather than real warfare. It was men making their own problems because their minds are incapable of elaborate thought. “Bored?” Daemon leaned on her shoulder, taking a casual sip of his wine.

“I wish to lay in my bed.” she complained, holding the goblet tightly in her hand. She was going to be forced to stay another hour – or two. “The tourney bores me.” she huffed, leaning into him naturally.

Daemon was about to open his mouth – mention a few more words of rebellion, but Saera wasn’t like that. She listened to her father, and followed all of his rules. To do something – to mention anything would mean changing her. And he loved her as is.

“The tournament is a proper way to meet knights. One of them could be your future husband.” he chuckled. She likes spending her days with her uncle. He treated her like an equal – a person who wielded the same power as him. “Knights bore me,” she yawned while watching Criston Cole win another fight.

He grabs his chest, acting like he was in great pain. “I am a knight, my dragon – you hurt me.” he joked. She smiles slightly, before turning her attention back to the tournament. She was not a fan of violence – but her uncle craved it like a wanton whore in heat. There was fire in his veins, with coal to fuel it.

She touches the pendant of her necklace, fiddling with it for comfort. With her sister’s neglect and her father’s cowardice – Saera has been alone in King's Landing. No one was truly by her side, not until her uncle returned. She wasn’t alone. She had him now.

His eyebrows furrowed, posture changing with anger. Her hands that were one wrapped around the necklace that he gave her, was now free of its hold. Harwin Strong enters the match, with his brazen charisma and broad shoulders. She stands up, and he draws near. He halts – holding a lance in his arm, smiling charismatically at the young princess. “Ser Harwin.” she greeted coyly, and he looked up.

She was a splitting image of the maiden. Cheeks slightly tinted with pink, pure and chaste – a perfect wife for House Strong. “My princess.” he replied in a honey-sweet voice, making Daemon cringe and clench his fists. “May I have your favor?” he smiled and she nodded her head.

She sprints towards the table which holds their favors, taking the small wreath filled with white roses – laying it heavily in his direction, earning a cheer from the rowdy crowd. She looks at the crowd, then at him. Saera found him attractive – he had a muscular physique, and a defined face. His reputation matched his personality. He seemed kind – a knight worthy of praise.

“I shall be cheering for your victory, my lord.” she leaned closer. “With your favor, my princess. My win is guaranteed.” he praised before trotting away. Daemon’s jaw clenches, his feet taking him behind Saera. He’s seen this scene unfold far too many times, with young maidens gushing over handsome knights. He hated it, because she should be swooning for him. It should be his lance holding the Princess’ favor, and his words causing the scarlett tint on her cheeks.

“Let’s return to our seat, my dragon.” he said through gritted teeth, his niece obeying again, opting to sit beside Queen Aemma who was heavy with another child.

“Ser Harwin would make a fine husband for our daughter, wouldn’t he?” Aemma turns towards her husband who nodded in return. “Lord Lyonel would be delighted, as would the Riverlands.” Aemma smiles, rubbing comforting circles on her swollen stomach.

There was a feeling inside her heart, that this was going to be her last pregnancy. It's a cold feeling inside her chest, an absence of life where it should be. Daemon watches along with a putrid look.

He wanted Saera. He craved her on nights where he wasn’t starving.

“Our daughter deserves someone of Valyrian blood.” Viserys responded softly, continuing to look at his wife with happiness. “I agree brother, we should not sully our blood with the likes of Andals.” Daemon spat while emptying his goblet of his wine. His good-sister gives him a soft glare, enough to spread chills down his spine. “I am of the blood of Andals, brother. Be careful with your words.” she warned playfully while watching the tournament.

Since the start of the Queen’s pregnancy, tournaments have been held in her name. Viserys was definite in the fact that it was going to be a boy. Daemon chuckles softly, “I apologize.” he smiles, turning his attention back to Harwin Strong. The man was a fucking bull – taller than Daemon by half an inch, but Daemon bested him in skill with weapon.

“Will you join the tournament, kepus?” Saera asked innocently, head tilting in his direction. Her father laughs loudly, mocking his daughter with her lack of knowledge. “The tournament is not for the likes of Daemon. He will crush them in half a second. My daughter, this tournament is held for squires and low knights.” he explained in a condescending tone.

Daemon opts to ignore him, not wanting to make his niece feel lonely.

“I wish to join, my darling, but I’m afraid that they don’t stand a chance.” he joked watching as Harwin Strong dominated his opponents with ease. The man had potential. As a skilled knight, Daemon wanted him as part of the gold-cloaks, but as an uncle and potential lover – he wanted Harwin away from his niece.

“Well, everyone is weak when they go against you.” she complimented, watching Harwin with stars in her eyes. He chuckles for a moment, eyes not leaving hers. There were stars in her eyes, sparks that her feverish fingers provided. He loved her, and she loved him – though both of them were completely unaware of it.

His hands reached her face, cupping it with tenderness. She was his home now, and like a little boy – he was running to go home to her. “Worry not, Saera. When the time comes that I join a tourney. I promise to ask for your favor.” he smiled, aware of Queen Aemma’s gaze.

Daemon wanted to fight for her. And he knew that succumbing to cowardice in front of the lady’s parents wouldn't ‘fight’ for her. “And I promise to give it to you.” she promised, with a soft smile.

—

Viserys and Daemon walked along the long halls of the red-keep. His brother was still wearing the Crown of Kings, it shined golden contrasting Viserys’ dark robes. “I see the way you look at my daughter, brother.” he confronted. “You are different around her,” he added.

Viserys was telling the truth. Without Saera, his brother was hot-headed, and ill-tempered. “I beg to differ.” Daemon rolled his eyes, continuing to walk forward. They both halted in front of the council-room, they could barely hear the chatter behind closed doors.

A footman announces their arrival, and everyone stands up.

Lord Corlys was first to sit down, and the lords followed quickly in suit. “You called for this meeting, Lord Corlys?” Viserys asked tired of all the occasions he had to attend. The man nodded his head, clearing his throat and straightening his back. “My informers tell me that a resurgence is about to emerge in the stepstones. The crabfeeders are growing in number.” the man informed, pointing at the map in-front of him.

“They have been attempting to rebel for decades, yet none have ever been successful.” The Hand argued, thinking of all the different ways that gold would be drained out of the royal storage. “If we spend more gold and men in attempting to vanquish an impossible happenstance, then our people will starve.” Otto exasperated.

“The Crabfeeders and the Free-Cities have had their discussion –”

“Do we have delegates in that discussion?” Daemon inquired curtly, body flowing with rage at their pure stupidity. They are fighting for their lives, and the very foundation that their legacy stood upon.

“No, but –”

“So we are here to assume that they are discussing for our benefit? When we are not there to ask any questions?” Daemon interrogated, almost standing up due to his pure rage. “I apologize, Lord Corlys and Otto – but this meeting would’ve been avoided if one of you used your brains.” he insulted, and Viserys raised his hand – stopping his brother from spluttering more insults.

“Prince Daemon, control yourself.” Viserys scolded, and his brother returned back to his seat. “The Rebellion in the Stepstones should not be disregarded. We must defeat them before they grow in numbers.” Daemon advised, and Lord Corlys stood up.

“We have a few more years until they reach their full strength. I advise us to think wisely. Where to put our gold and men.” Corlys provided, and the Hand was quick to apprehend. “I disagree, my lord. We should ignore the Stepstones, the men are weakened – still in fear of Maegor’s reign. We shouldn’t spend our gold and rations towards a problem that may never happen.” he argued, causing Daemon to anger.

“It is not a problem, yet.” Daemon corrected, earning the approval of Corlys Velaryon. “We should crush them while they are low in numbers. Their reinforcements from the free-cities may arrive soon.” he added, preparing to fly to the Stepstones.

He stands up again, eyes searching the room for his Dark Sister.

“I disagree –”

“I think not –”

The lords around the table were not agreeing to his idea. They didn’t want to throw their taxes upon something that will never harm them. Sure, a few hundred may die but what was the worth of a hundred peasant lives? Nothing. Nothing compared to the life of one lord.

A lone squire walks inside of the room, whispering a few tones to the Hand. “The Crabfeeder has invaded the Stepstones.” he announced in a low tone, embarrassed of his mistake. Daemon chuckles, finding the situation to be bitter. Viserys turns towards his brother. “The war is in your hands now.” he responded, making Daemon’s laugh louder.

“What do you want me to do? Talk to them peacefully?” he mumbled sarcastically before getting up to leave.

—

Otto sighs, briefly furrowing through the small book in his hands. “That Daemon Targaryen is going to be a problem for us.” Lancel Hightower, his brother, commented while taking a brief taste of his wine. “How do we get rid of him?” he asked, thinking of ways to assassinate the Rogue Prince.

His younger brother stares up at him with a scoff. “We can’t, and we won’t.” Otto replied, looking back into his journal – scribbling a few notes down. “Why not? It is not hard to kill a man.” Lancel argued, wanting the thought of the Prince off his head. Viserys will not send his men to the Stepstones, but Daemon will come there alone.

“Have you ever tried to catch the wind? I assure you, catching that is far easier than killing Daemon.”

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#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc #ser harwin strong #harwin strong x oc #coaxed you into paradise #daemon targaryen x original character #cheating #cliche #a rewrite

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5starluvr · 2 months

Text

Poison

Paring:Han jisung x reader

Genre:fluff,slight angst

Warnings:feeling unlovable,kissing,smoking

This is not really edited nor proof read since I wrote this last night .ALSO LISTEN TO THE SONG WHILE READING TRUST ME!!

Rain hammered against Han’s window, a relentless hammering against the glass that mirrored the frantic drumming of y/n’s heart. Smoke curled from the cigarette she held, her presence a question mark against the backdrop of his messy, familiar room. Han sprawled across his beanbag chair, watched her, concern etching lines on his forehead. He knew her too well. The vibrant spark in her eyes, usually dancing with mischief, was dimmed, replaced by a dull ache.

"Mr.Claus’ pop quiz was the least of my worries," she mumbled, flicking the ash into a chipped ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts. The air hung heavy with a mix of nicotine and emotions.

He sat up, mirroring her posture. "Don't lie to me, y/n. This isn't about a stupid quiz." His voice was gentle, laced with a quiet understanding.

A frustrated sigh escaped her lips, a sound that ripped through the charged silence. "It's stupid," she muttered, burying her face in her hands. "Everyone seems to be coupled up. Jeongin and that girl are practically living at each other's places, even Hyunjin found some Fashion school chick."

Han leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "You know, being single isn't a disease, y/n," he said, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew that wasn't what she wanted to hear, but sometimes a little humor could break the tension.

She scoffed, a flicker of a smile playing on her lips. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Independent. You have girls ready to get on their knees for you left and right" Her voice trailed off.

Han winced. There had been someone, a brief spark that had quickly fizzled out, leaving him hesitant to put himself out there again. But that was different. This was y/n.

He took a long drag of his cigarette, watching the fire dissolve the tip every time he breathed the smoke in. "Dating shouldn't be a race, you know?" he said, his voice low and soothing. "The right person will come along when you least expect it."

"What if no one ever wants me?" The words spilled from her lips, raw and vulnerable. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. "No guy, no girl. What if I'm just… unlovable? I mean everyone seems to be coupled up. Jeongin and that girl are practically living at each other's places, even Hyunjin found some girl from a fashion school…."

The question hit Han like a physical blow. Y/n, unlovable? The fiercest, funniest girl he knew, a burst of joy and passion? It was a ridiculous conclusion that sparked a protectiveness within him. He stubbed out his cigarette, a sudden urgency gripping him.

"Hey, look at me, y/n," he said, his voice husky. "That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard. You're incredible. Smart, funny, loyal. You walk into a room and everyone looks your way, even if they don't admit it."

Heat stained her cheeks, a flicker of surprise lighting up her eyes. "Really?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. A flicker of hope, hesitant yet undeniable, danced in her gaze.

He couldn't hold back any longer. The truth, a truth he'd been grappling with for years, surged to the surface. "Really," he said, his gaze intense. "And the thing is, y/n…" He took another drag, the smoke swirling around him, mirroring the whirlwind brewing inside. "I like you. Like I like like you. Like more than a friend."

The room seemed to shrink, the rain a distant roar. Y/n's eyes widened, a mix of emotions swirling within. Then, a slow smile spread across her lips, chasing away the shadows.

"You do?" Her voice trembled with a mixture of disbelief and hope. A blush crept up her neck, warming her cheeks.

His eyes met her gaze, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice rough. "So maybe unlovable isn't quite the right word."

The air crackled with unspoken desire. The cigarette slipped forgotten from her fingers. In a swift, instinctive move, she leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a clash of heat and desperation. It was a kiss born of a long-suppressed longing and hidden desires.

His hand found its way to her cheek and her back, his touch sending shivers down her spine. He deepened the kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair, anchoring her to him as they pressed their bodies together. The taste of cherry chapstick and stale smoke was an intoxicating mix, but it was the electricity that coursed through them that stole the breath from their lungs. They pulled apart, gasping for air, foreheads resting together. The rain outside continued its relentless assault, but in the comfort of Han's room, a different kind of storm had just passed.

"See," he breathed, his voice husky. "Maybe you aren’t as unlovable as you think you are."

She chuckled a low rumble that vibrated against his lips. "Maybe not," she agreed, her eyes locked on his. "Definitely not."

#Spotify #stray kids #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz imagine #skz scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #han jisung x reader #han x reader #han jisung #skz jisung #skz fanfic #skz han

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aaaaafro · 1 year

Text

It's Wrestling - LE SSERAFIM - Sakura x M! Reader. (+18)

tw: a whole lot of wrestling stuff, a bit of rough sex? I honestly don't know but hope y'all enjoy it. Good luck.

As I suspected this has been the longest smut I've ever written lol, got this idea after watching a match of Will Ospreay vs Bea Priestley and I suddenly remembered, oh yeah, sakura did wrestle.

'Make it, please!' You plead in your mind as your legs were about to give out pedalling on your bike, hitting the brakes as soon as you see the signage on the window.

Your heart drops seeing that the lights are already off from the outside. "Fuck."

"Can I help you?"

"Holy shi–..." You almost jumped off your shoes hearing a soft spoken voice coming from your behind.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that." Not even a minute in the conversation yet you're already lost in her eyes.

"I-it... It's u-uhm... You see..." A complete mess who can't even form a comprehensible word. You just decided to give up and just signalled towards the poster.

"Oh, you're here for the tryouts?" You just nodded at the beautiful lady's question.

She chuckled before straightening her posture, just as then she gave you a quick scan from head to toe. She looks somewhat satisfied before saying; "Follow me."

You couldn't even question her as your feet acted on their own and started following the woman to the back of the building.

She then took a key from her pocket and used it to open the back entrance. You hesitated but got convinced once she cutely peeks her head from the inside saying; "come on in."

The two of you head towards the ring side to a near table with steel chairs. She pulls down the blinds to completely cover the windows before turning on the lights and the moment it shines the ring you're starstruck.

"Woah." You're in awe as she walks back towards you.

"I know, it's not that big but it's just for the tryouts... You okay?" She questioned as you're too lost admiring your dream right in front of you.

"Y-yeah, sorry it's just... So cool." The woman holds a chuckle as the two of you finally took a seat.

"So you want to be a professional wrestler?" She asked, doing that cliché thing where her chin is resting on her hand thingy with a smirk.

"Y-yes ma'am." You replied.

"Oh right, I totally forgot to tell you my name..." She extends her hand with a bright smile she said her name.

"Miyawaki Sakura." You gladly took her hand and shook it right after introducing yourself.

"Alright newbie. I just have a few questions here, give me your honest answers, okay?" Aggressively nodding your head cause Sakura to produce an adorable chuckle.

"Why do you want to be a pro-wrestler?" Is her first question.

"I could say things like because their moves are awesome, or I want to win the championship but to be honest, I just want a way to express myself with this craft. I love professional wrestling and the way it can create characters and stories. I dream of creating a legacy of myself in the future..." You then paused for a second

"What can I say? It's wrestling." Ending with an awkward chuckle.

After finishing your answer, you noticed that there's a moment of silence from her and once you looked you just saw her staring at you with a smile, however that may have broken her out of her trance as she hurriedly looks back to her questionnaire.

"Right, back to it then... Who would be your favourite pro-wrestler of all time?" She continued.

"If we're saying in-ring wise, I'd go with Will Ospreay..."

"Ooohh." She reacted.

"But mic-skills I'm going CM Punk." That earned you impressed nod from Sakura as she then jotted down notes.

"Right, so what would be your finisher?" She asked.

"Well, I was thinking of a modified tombstone pile-driver but since I'm not that well built perhaps I'll stick with a shooting star press or like a cutter for now..." Again Sakura was impressed as she wrote down your answers before slamming the pen and pad on the table.

This startled you along with her suddenly sitting up from her chair, you quickly followed suit as she signals you with a finger to follow her.

Sakura then skillfully rolls inside through the bottom rope and that alone surprised you. Obviously you think her only job is just to interview and background check the potential candidates but she looks really comfortable inside the ring.

"What are you waiting for? Your legacy won't get itself in the ring." Her comment took you by surprise, it's more motivating than insulting to say the least.

Quickly reaffirming yourself as you jump from the floor towards the ring apron like it was nothing, Sakura lets out a whistle as you finally slip in through the ropes.

"Miss Sakura..." Your call of her earned you a look of disbelief from the woman in front of you.

"Don't call me that!" Her voice clearly states that she's offended by your formality.

"M-ma'am S-sakura?" You tried once more but to no avail as she crosses her arms and just shakes her head.

"S-sak... Sakura?" A sudden shift from her expression allowed you to let out a sigh of relief.

"Just call me that the whole interview alright?" She asked and you just accepted it.

"S-sakura, I'm really sorry for asking but what's your p-position here?" Perhaps that was too vague for a question and it did raise her brow before smirking at you.

"Just so you know, I'm the one who runs all of this for you..." She said seductively before walking closer to you.

"Uh... can you be more specific?" You nervously replied.

She cut off her act and replied nonchalantly: "I'm the boss here."

"W-wait, s-seriously?" Your reaction causes Sakura to broke down into a laughter.

"S-sakura, are you really the owner?" Raising a finger to ask for a minute as she tries to recollect herself even going as far as tearing up from the laugh that she just had.

"Whooo, jeez never had to laugh that much in a while, you look so surprised..."

"Why? Is it because I'm a woman does that mean I can't have any interest in wrestling?" She asked with a pissed off tone.

"N-no, that's not w-what I meant..." You hurriedly replied before she started laughing uncontrollably again.

"Oh god... My stomach hurts. I'm kidding."

"No, I'm just one of the management department, I'm here to scout talents. I got caught up with some paperworks and needed to stay a bit late." That actually makes sense.

"O-okay, it's just that... You're p–..." Your words were swallowed to the void failing to reach Sakura's ears.

"What's that?" She asked before moving closer to hear you better.

"N-nothing, I-i said y-you're pretty c-cute, t-that's why I-i'm surprised that you're into w-wrestling." Currently a stuttering mess, Sakura notices this and made things worst when she pinches your cheek.

"How adorable." Said the one who's out there looking all cute and stuff with her bright smile.

"Alright, we need to continue." Sakura stops and starts doing stretches.

It's inappropriate for you to stare but she can't blame you after all her baggy pants didn't even stand a chance against her curves as she went to reach for her toes.

Her sports top wasn't much of a help either as she starts bending forward to do some frontal stretches. Of course your leering wouldn't go unnoticed as Sakura eyes your mischief.

Perhaps she's letting you, as she presses on harder accentuating her curves even more to your liking, gulping a solid amount of spit signals Sakura to stop, as you shamefully looked away.

"Right! Now newbie! Do you have any experience with a woman?" You almost choked on pure oxygen with her statement as you cough away trying to hold yourself together.

[Cough] "W-wha–... Expe? You..." You're a mess and this is pure entertainment for Sakura.

"Jeez what were you thinking? I obviously mean wrestling." She replied holding in a laugh.

"Y-yeah I know that, well I never really have any in-ring experience." Her eyes went wide with your statement.

"Any?!" You nodded in shame.

"Then what the heck are you doing here?" She was furious to say the least.

"Well, I did study a lot of it online... And uh... I..." You hesitated knowing she might get even more mad with what you're about to say.

"What now?" She asked crossing her arms.

"I did b-backyard w-wrestling." You're not really proud of it but it's the only thing closest to an actual experience you have.

An overly exaggerated sigh escapes Sakura as she massages her forehead for a bit before recomposing herself with a couple of neck circles she finally went back to normal.

"Okay! I assume you know your cues then?" She was surprisingly enthusiastic even after what just happened.

"Y-yeah, they taught me back then." You replied.

"Right, now we're going to do a little scuffle." She then prepares herself in front of you.

That caused you to panic and stop her right away; "W-woah! Wait, you're gonna do it with me?"

"Do you see anybody else here?" You shook your head and she gave you that 'i thought so' look, though that didn't really convince you.

"Oh seriously? I thought your favourite pro-wrestler is Will Ospreay?" Sakura presses on

"Yeah that's right."

"Then I'm sure you've watched Will Ospreay vs Bea Priestley?" That was actually a pretty good point.

"But no! Obviously those two are in a relationship during that time." You reasoned.

"Oh, so you're suggesting that we should start dating then?" Sakura replied.

"Eh?" You stood there bewildered by her reply.

"Oh come on! One!" She shouted.

Suddenly your instinct kicks in and your body just moved on its own, going into a collar and elbow tie-up with Sakura. The two of you then kayfabe a struggle as she starts giving you cues.

Once more your instincts gets the best of you letting her overpower you. With the loud echoes of your stomps and struggle you hear Sakura whispered; "Two."

Positioning an underhook she then gave you a hip toss. To which you sold like your whole life depended on it. She then went down and put you in a headlock to which you're not even going to complain as your face was right next to her boo-.

"Good boy." You heard Sakura whisper before letting go of your face.

"Great, now shall we move on?" Speechless you just nodded.

"One!" With that, the two of you got tied up once more.

"Four." She continues, as you took her by the arm and did an irishwhip to the rope.

She then signals with a clap in which she suddenly gave you a head scissor with her thighs before taking you down. You just took the spot as she dusts herself clean.

"Great... great..." Sakura compliments you with a slow clap.

"Can you take a hurricanrana to a pin?" She asked as she turns away from you and with not much of an argument you just nodded.

"Alrighty then." She starts running towards you applying a head scissor but instead of taking you down you supported her weight for a bit.

"Ready?" You asked her but since her face is partially covered with her hair you didn't clearly see her face but you did notice a nod.

Taking the go signal, you gave her a little boost before floating over and landing on your back with Sakura's legs still trapping your head.

It took you almost a minute to remember that Sakura is still on top of you scissoring you with her thighs resting on either side of your face. Somehow though this doesn't seem to bother her as well, until you say;

"Uh... S-sakura?"

"Oh, right s-sorry." She finally lets you free standing up.

"O-okay, obviously, it's not always high flying luchador stuffs that people want. Let's see your grappling game." Said Sakura who's just got done fixing herself.

"You'll have the dominant position~." The moment you heard that, your relaxed heart rate suddenly doubles.

Unlike earlier which are obviously more dangerous spots, you'd think that now isn't really the time to be nervous, however the way Sakura delivered that line your instinct once more alerts you about something yet you're not sure how to respond.

"One!" Sakura cuts you off from your trance, tying up once more.

She then starts rapid firing cues to which you to transition from arm wrenches, to ankle grabs and leg sweeps but ultimately ending with you over Sakura in a full control position.

"Mhmmm." Was that a moa-? Not wanting your question to be answered you hurriedly got off from Sakura.

"Sakura?" Your call woke her up from her state as she slightly panics before getting up as well.

"Right..." She looks shy for a second before turning away from you.

"Now, for the last section. I will be testing your resolve." It's almost ridiculous how she sounded talking about testing 'resolve' specially as she's still facing away from you.

Sakura seems to have noticed your smug look and decided that playtime is over; "Okay newbie, take off your clothes."

"Eh?!" It really was a 180 degrees turn from her shy self earlier to now.

The confidence in her eyes, her posture, and the way she just stood there waiting for your response. Of course, your only choice is to strip yet your hands are frozen in place and your knees are about to give.

"A-all o-of my clothes?" With a straight face Sakura just nods.

On shaky hands you start by taking off your watch, followed by your shirt, you then check to see Sakura's reaction however she's just standing there almost ice-cold expressionless. It's honest scary but also... Hot.

You continued taking off your shoes along with your socks. Meanwhile it's like Sakura's eyes never left you as your hand then reaches for your pants.

Slowly sliding them down on a shaky grip, your brain keeps sending you warnings, like a combat plane who has a been locked on with a missile. Once your pants are off you're not left with your boxers.

"Go on then." Sakura's calm voice was not helping at all adding the bonus of her just standing there and staring daggers into you.

"I-is this r-really–..." You realize that no amount of reasoning that's gonna get you out of this.

There's really not much of a choice anymore, as Sakura's gaze seems to have gotten more and more aggressive, you then hook the waistband of your boxers and slowly slid them down.

In such state of chaos you've managed to catch a glimpse of Sakura as she bites her lips as soon as you're fully exposed. Obviously that baffled you but just as then she suddenly tossed you something.

"Now cut me a promo." Looking at the thing she gave it was actually a microphone.

"P-promo?" Sakura then gave you one of those are you serious look before responding;

"Yeah dummy, what did you think? We're not only looking in ring skills, you'd have to show me your mic skills as well, don't tell me you don't have any."

Her smug tone motivates you but you're on the ropes with how things are. First you're naked in the middle of the ring. Second this gorgeous woman in front of you is telling you to cut a promo from out of nowhere.

"C-can you a-at least give me a lead or anything?" You asked.

"Uugghh! Fine." That groan of frustration was cute though if you'd say so yourself.

Sakura then reaches for another mic before walking closer towards you. As she does, Sakura begin to give you a scan from head to toe seemingly pausing right in the middle before continuing.

Just as she's finally inches away from you. You begin to get nervous as Sakura raises the mic to her face. Without breaking eye contact with each other she grins.

"Do you really want to be a pro-wrestler?" She asked.

"Yes!" You answered.

"Are you willing to do anything?" Her tone suddenly shifting from serious to sultry each word.

"Y-yes?!" Before you can even question what Sakura's point was with that question she suddenly drops on her knees right in front of you.

"S-sa... Kkura..." A devilish smile greets you as her face levels with your member.

"N-now, now, since you said you'd do anything–..."

"Tell me what would you do to me?" Her needy eyes was locked on yours.

That was only the start, as her hands begin to travel from your calves up to your thighs, you can feel your member twitching which caused you to try and cover it up. However Sakura has other plans, without breaking eye contact with you she pries away your hand before taking your member into her hand.

As soon as your skins touched, you can feel your moan escaping your lips. This was ecstasy to Sakura who then started pumping your length;

"Tell me boy, what is it you want?" She's inviting to say the least, it wasn't a question more of a demand.

"I w-want y-you–.”

"At-ta-ta-ta! Use your words properly. We can't afford you stuttering like that in front of a crowd."

"I want you to suck it! Suck my fucking cock." A smile of success flashes on Sakura's face before taking all of your length into her mouth.

Licking, kissing, biting? Slobbering her spit all over it, occasionally trying to take it all in but failing to do so, as her tongue then focuses on the tip. Like a snake hunting its prey before swallowing it whole.

With a pop she releases your member getting a few licks on the base of your cock as she then gave you a smile and a wink before asking; "What's next?"

"Take your clothes off." You asked as she suddenly blushes and acts all shy.

"B-but..." Seeing the truth behind her little façade you decide just to play along.

"Do you really think I care about what matters to you? Didn't I tell you to take your clothes off, you slut!" Having enough of her games you suddenly grab the single strap of her top before pulling it off.

The jiggle on her breast was majestic the moment they were released, this caused a blush from Sakura as she tries to cover them up.

"Now you're gonna be embarrassed? You have gotta be kidding me. I've been ignoring it but I can see the sluttiness in you." You honestly don't know where you're getting all of this but she doesn't seem to mind even when you swat away her arm that's covering her breast.

"W-what a-are you doing?!" Sakura panics as you slid your member in between her orbs.

Despite her pathetic acts of resistance, she's actually the one pressing her breast together giving you a better feel of her ridge, along with her spit on your cock that helps ease up the thrusts you're currently doing.

"Y-yeah, that's right you slut." You groan as Sakura keeps the contraption on your length.

It was a sight of a lifetime but it only gets better from here. When all of a sudden she starts squirming on her knees and a second later you see her white baggy pants comes flying across the ring.

You took a peek to see her white underwear forming a wet spot right in the middle of it and that's when you knew you had this right in the bag.

Her breasts were smooth and supple, but before you even realize it you're getting closer and closer to your climax, while Sakura looks like she's just getting started still squirming on her knees.

Of course you don't want to spoil the fun so you regretfully pull out of her ridge. This earns you a whine of disappointment from Sakura as she just kneeled there waiting for what else you're planning to do.

"One!" Her eyes widened, it's as though her instinct was ready that she quickly took a stance and grappled with you.

"Five!" You did a sweep that took Sakura off her feet and you then flipped her over.

Now in all fours Sakura's face was bright red though it didn't stop her from sticking up her rear-end for a better angle, then again your member twitched at sight of her glorious backside.

"W-what a-are you doin–mhhmm." Her cry was like music to your ears as you start to tease her clothed holes.

"Isn't this what you want?" You asked before shifting aside the stupid cloth obstructing her core.

"Nnnhhnngg!" An airy moan was the best response you could ever get from her in that current state.

"F-fuck!" Sakura screams before digging her face on the mat to try and muffle her moans as your tongue explores her core.

Addicting is the only way to describe it, maybe it's her fem-wash and sweat mixing, maybe it's the surprisingly pleasant humidity of the night or maybe it's just Sakura overall but you're addicted.

Obsessing over her taste, the way her moans sound when it reaches your ears, the way her body arches downward, the way her face contorts each lick and suck you deliver to her submerged core.

This isn't even wrestling anymore you're just lapping her up and yet she's not complaining, well she wouldn't be able to even if she wanted to, since only airy gasps and occasional curses are the only thing that's coming out of her lips.

"F–fuck me p-please!" In the midst of your feast you've manage to hear Sakura's needy voice.

For most of the time you've been eating her up she did form a few words but not to this degree and that alone made you stop, in which even she was annoyed but Sakura knows her needs and now she needs a little bit more than your mouth.

"You want me to what?" You know your cards and you're gonna play them.

Sakura though stayed on all fours wiggling her ass in front of you, giving you a good enough answer to your question but you're not gonna give it to her that easy.

"Three!" You shouted and she quickly picks herself up giving you an arm for an irishwhip to the corner turnbuckle.

You're honestly impressed by Sakura's ability to switch from being a slut to a professional in a fraction of a second. However that doesn't change the fact that you're so turned on seeing how she's still kayfabing hitting the turnbuckle. Shortly you followed and stare at Sakura who's using the ropes as supports just then as if there's a light bulb lit up in your head and you had this ridiculous idea.

Gently lifting her head up to see her needy eyes was beaming with lust, you then brought your lips next to her ears and whispered; "brace yourself."

You spread her arms putting them over the rope that helps her chest get pushed up. Gosh she's sneakily voluptuous.

Seeing her eyes burning with desire you then deliver a knife edge chop across her chest. A whipping sound echoes through the whole ring as Sakura winces as she slowly falls on the apron.

You'd feel bad seeing her riding in pain but you can't specially when Sakura's fucking dripping off her snatch, with that you can clearly say that this girl is really something else.

"Come here." Aggressively getting her up to a standing position.

Once more placing her arms up the ropes for a better support you then took one of her leg placing it on top of the middle rope and so is with the other one.

You honestly thought that your night couldn't get any more better as you look at Sakura squirming, widespread on the corner turnbuckle of the ring, her panties are just useless at this point due to the fact that they're completely soaked with her juices.

"W–wait, what's t-this?" Sakura then again making it seem like she didn't like the position she's currently in.

"Oh, so you're still keeping that shit act. We'll see." You're not having none of it as you position yourself right in front of her.

A long moan then rips through the air, as you rub your rod on her clothed, drenched core. You can clearly see her clutching on the ropes with her whole might.

Not really wanting to tease her any further, you move aside the useless cloth and pushed your self inside her, well there wasn't even an ounce of effort you had to give, that's how wet she is.

"F–fuck! Uugghh! You fuckin~!" Her sounds of pleasure melts into a high-pitched screech as you start pumping in and out of her.

You can clearly see the red markings forming on her hand as she tries her best to hold on while you're just hammering your whole length balls deep into her. Sakura who's now a moaning mess starts to shake, you're aware that she's currently riding on her orgasm, you stopped and took a step back.

"Haaaa–! Holy shi–!" This is ridiculous, she couldn't even complete a sentence for god's sake.

You gently lifted her head for a bit before delivering another knife edge chop that once more echoes through the whole room.

"J-just finish me... Finish in me please?" Her last plea as her core drips her juices out.

If a finish is what she wants, that's what she's getting. You removed both her legs and arms from the ropes before support her whole weight as she just went limp from all of the pleasure and pain she was in.

"Powerbomb to a jack-knife pin." You whispered as she did her best to recollect herself.

You then pushed her towards the rope before lifting her up to your shoulder, her core was inches away from your face and you just said fucking before pushing her all the way through getting a few licks in.

Once again Sakura plays the pro-card delivering punches on your head to try and breakaway, however you've had enough and drove her spine first on the canvas.

Without letting go of her legs you brought them up to your shoulders with her calves wrestling right next to your face, you once more moved her panty aside and penetrated her.

You won't lie it has been a long and arduous night but god was it one to remember, as you savour her walls clenching your member as you slam yourself inside her. Wet and loud slaps of flesh are the only thing that can be heard as Sakura's voice have complete been silence due to her exhausted state.

By each slams you can feel your balls tightening and it's only a few pumps away to your climax as you whisper to Sakura; "W-where d-do you want i-it again?"

"I-inside p-please! Ah fuck– I'm cumming!"

A groan from the two of you syncs so are your orgasms, her core flooding with the mixtures of both of your fluids there's nothing else hotter than this.

After almost an eternity of riding in pure pleasure, you finally pulled out and came oozing out of Sakura is pure warm love juice.

You two laid in the middle of the ring too spent to even think of anything else. It took both of you almost 5 minutes to finally recover from your highs.

"Woah." You exclaimed and suddenly hear a small chuckle coming from Sakura.

As she slowly slithers her way to cuddle with you, resting her head on your chest as she hugs your sweaty torso.

"Was I too rough?" You're seriously concerned though, after realizing what you've done to her.

"Nah, you're good..." She smiled before placing a kiss on your cheek.

"It's wrestling." She added as the two of you cuddled naked in the middle of the ring.

#le sserafim #le sserafim smut #sakura smut #miyawaki sakura #sakura #male reader

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brittscafe · 1 year

Note

Hi!!!! How are you doing? I hope you’re good! I was hoping I could request something with byakuya? Maybe you guys are serious and he’s thinking of proposing and he sees you spending time with rukia, renji, and their daughter and sees how much they love you and how well you fit in with the ppl he cares about and he’s like “😍 yep this is it for me” thank you so much!!!!

YESSS OMFG I WOULD GET ON MY KNEES FOR BYAKUYA!! I really loved writing this and I'm considering writing a part 2, where he actually proposes.

(I'm like 99.9 % sure that Renji's and Rukia's daughter is called Ichika, but please correct me if I'm wrong)

The cherry blossoms float in the soft wind as it gently carries them to the ground. Byakuya's eyes are locked onto yours, walking ahead of him.

Your hair bouncing and your soul reaper's cloak flowing behind you. His eyes are full of love, admiration, and pure respect for you.

"Y/N!" Ichika calls out, running towards you with opened arms and the widest smile you ever saw. You get down onto your knees and open your arms just as Ichika runs into them.

She wraps her tiny arms around your neck and you carefully stand up straight, keeping a tiny grip on the little.

Byakuya's breath hitches in his throat and his stomach churns with warmth as you spin around facing him with your white teeth winking at him.

"She was so excited to see you. She practically ran out of the house without us," Rukia comments with a soft voice, standing beside Renji.

"Well, I was very excited to see you too, Ichika," you announce, setting her back down on the ground.

Ichika reaches down a pick up a petal of a cherry blossom. Her tiny eyes examine the pink petal and she glances back up at you.

"Someone told me that Byakuya makes the cherry blossoms bloom only for you," Ichika blurts out and your stomach twists into knots.

You glance back at Byakuya and the hues of pink hit his cheeks. He quickly glances away from you and clears his throat.

"That is only a myth," Byakuya announces, readjusting his posture.

"Myth? Are you sure?" you chuckle out, shooting him a glance. Byakuya's hand rests in his pocket, slightly nudging the ring box in his deep pocket.

It was no Myth. In the early spring, he would make them bloom just for you. Usually, the wind would carry the cherry blossoms too, but Byakuya would make them float around you sometimes. He loves to see your face light up and he will even chuckle when you start to dance around them.

He does it for you. He does all of it for you.

"Some myth. I wish somebody would make the cherry blossoms bloom for me, " Renji scoffs out quietly, glancing down at Rukia. She rolls her eyes with annoyance

"Or she could turn you into a nice cold popsicle," you suggest and Rukia bursts out laughing.

"I like that idea much better," she nods her head and a frown spreads across Renji's face.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. We should head to the lantern festival soon," Renji announces, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. Rukia smiles warmly and nods her head, grabbing onto Ichika's hand and guiding her along the path.

"We'll be right behind you," Byakuya informs them as Renji, Rukia, and Ichika start heading down the path.

You glance back over at your shoulder as Byakuya as he starts to walk up to you, holding out his large palm. He gives you a slight smile as his dark bangs fall into his face and you grab onto his hand.

You spin around your heel and face him, reaching out towards him. Byakuya's eyes slightly widen and his expression drops as you gently push back his bangs.

You place your hand on his warm cheek and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes and relaxing.

Byakuya dips his head down and connects your lips together. He kisses you slow and gentle, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. Your stomach fills with butterflies.

"We should go before they start to wonder where we are," you whisper against his lips and he smiles warmly.

Byakuya follows behind you, admiring your every step, knowing there's no way he could love you anymore than he already does.

#bleach byakuya #byakuya x you #kuchiki byakuya #byakuya kuchiki x you #byakuya kuchiki #byakuya x y/n #byakuya x reader #bleach anime #bleach imagines #bleach headcanons #bleachanime #bleach #sfw writing #sfw #fluff #bleach fluff #byakuya kuchiki fluff #anime

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teddy-bear-baby · 10 months

Text

Their Deadly Flower - Three

A/N: This chapter is a bit shorter than the others, sorry. I hope you still enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, I’m sorry it’s a day late.

Pairings: Ghost X GN!Reader, König X GN!Reader

Warnings: None

Prolog - Chapter one - Chapter two

Things went downhill really fast after you walked into Laswell’s office. She tried her best to feign surprise that you were still alive, but with an accusing tone, you called her out on it. “Come on Laswell, don’t do that.” Your tone is dull, bored as she pierces you with a don’t-you-dare look.

“Don’t do what?” Her voice is higher in pitch, but her facade doesn’t break.

Pinning her with an accusing look your arms unconsciously cross over your chest. “Don’t, I’m serious. The lies end here.” Shaking your head you turn and lift yourself to sit on the edge of her desk. “Well?” You gesture to the four men standing in the room, all of them with confused looks on their faces. “Tell them. If you don’t, I will.” She lets a small sigh fall from her lips as she leans her weight on one leg.

Ghost huffs with growing agitation. “Tell us what?” His gaze flicks between you and Laswell. His usually blank eyes hold confusion and anger. His aura radiates through the room causing the tension to grow heavier.

Laswell finally relents, throwing her hands up in surrender. “Fine, you win.” Her eyes dart around the room, ensuring she has everyone’s attention. “I knew that Iris was alive.” Her lips purse in discomfort at her own words.

Your eyes instinctively go from face to face as they all react to the confession. Gaz and Soap look on incredulously, as if not understanding the words that had just come out of her mouth. Ghost’s eyes are blank, staring headlong at the woman standing next to you. “Don’t stop there.” You turn your head to look at her defeated face. “Tell them the rest.”

She shakes her head lightly. “Why are you doing this? What’s your end goal here Iris?” She steps back leaning on one of her filing cabinets. “What do you gain from interrogating me like this in front of them?” Her posture now mimics yours, blank-faced with her arms crossed over her chest. Her confidence irritates you more than it should. It seemed like she thought you’d buckle under her questioning.

You don’t buckle though, instead, you answer honestly. “I gain quite a bit from this actually. Firstly, I get the satisfaction of you speaking the truth. I get to watch as you tell them that not only did you know I was alive, but that you had another team with you when you found me bleeding out on the floor. I get to hear you tell them how you abandoned me in that city all by myself. How you left me there confused with no way to contact anyone.” Your voice begins to raise and your hands begin to shake as the feelings of betrayal come rushing back. “You took me away from my family, dropped me in the middle of nowhere. And then today…” Angry tears well up in the corners of your eyes. “Today I found out that they thought I had died. KIA.” A sad smile crosses your lips. “You lived your everyday life, while I suffered alone for two years. Only to find out that no one was coming for me.” The anger subsides leaving way for sadness to take hold. “It’s fine though, in the end, you're the one that has to live with what you did.” You slide from the desk and make your way out of the room allowing the information given to fester in the silence of the group.

~~~~~

It's been a week now since you blew up at Laswell. In that time you'd found your way to old sleeping quarters and rummaged through your old belongings. It took a whole day to wash all the old dusty clothes and about 4 hours to sort, clean, and ready all of your old tactical gear. The room itself wasn't as messy as you'd thought it would be. A light layer of dust quickly wiped away as you kept yourself busy, avoiding the thought of what kind of rift you may have just caused in the delicate balance your team held. Well, not your team. You found out about forty-eight hours ago, from Price, that Laswell had just finished putting in the paperwork for you to formally rejoin the 141.

She was putting in the effort to set things right with you and the members of 141. Everything had been so tense after your small blow-up a week ago. There was no talking between you and Laswell. No nods of acknowledgment when you'd pass each other in the halls. No 'Good evening' even when you sat elbow to elbow with her at dinner. There were no words that could be said that would allow you to trust her the way you once had. Not for the time being anyway. She seemed apologetic enough from what Soap and Gaz had told you. She’s apologized to them once, and only once, after your quick retreat from her office that day. You hadn’t expected her to say it at all. Admittedly, it made you happy that, at the very least, she showed remorse for the hurt she’d caused the others.

Loud footsteps echoed in your eardrums from the hall outside the training room. Workouts and sparing seemed to be the only thing that pulled you from your rut. Waiting for the paperwork to be finalized was killing you slowly. You had to watch your team gear up and go on at least two small recon missions without you in the past week. Your body vibrated at the idea of being out in the field again. The footsteps fell silent just after reaching the door. Your head snaps away from the punching bag you had been taking your frustrations out on. A large masculine figure standing in the doorway halts all other thoughts in your head. Their eyes fall to yours, studying your form as you turn to inspect them.

You didn’t recognize the monster of a man standing before you. You’d not seen him around before. You were absolutely certain you’d have recognized a hulking beast wearing a loose cloth hood over its head. Dark eyes linger on your form from under the makeshift hood, dissecting you from across the room. “Can I help you?” Your voice doesn’t waver even under his gaze. He says nothing in response as his eyes move from you to examine the rest of the room. Was he ignoring you, or was he mute? It didn’t matter to you either way, he was here now and you weren’t finished making this punching bag sorry for the things that you’d been put through.

“Okay then.” Your words came out low and breathy but you were sure he heard it in the quiet that had befallen the room. You swiftly turned back, putting your mixed martial arts skills to work on the inanimate object. As you focused on the soft wooshes and smacks of your fists on the vinyl, you couldn’t tell whether he’d left, moved into the room, or remained in the doorway like a creep. You hadn’t heard footsteps and really didn’t want to have another staring contest with him. Taking your chances you speak out into the void. “You got a name stranger?”

The low grunt sounds from behind you near the weight racks, confirms that he had indeed managed to silently enter the room. “Not much of a talker. Got it.” Your fist slams a bit harder into the side of the bag. “I’ll be quiet now.” Your voice comes out in a huff as you bring your knee up into your stuffed opponent. No response came from the man behind you, only the clanking of weights being pulled free of the rack.

Another hour went by with silence between the two of you. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’d hoped he’d do a few sets and leave but, of course, he hadn’t. He had taken his time moving from one exercise to the other as though the quiet tension in the room didn’t bother him. Maybe it was just you. Perhaps you weren’t in the mindset to be around people. A sigh escapes your throat as you flop down in one of the few chairs that littered the room. “Fuck.” You hadn’t worked yourself this hard in a long time. Your body begins to ache from exertion. Wiping the sweat from your brow you sneak a glance at the man who had taken up residence in the corner. His muscles rippled with every lift of the weight in his grasp. A thin sheen of sweat coated the coiled muscles in his arms.

“Iris.” A deep voice rings through the room causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. “Captain is requesting your presence in his office.” Your eyes meet Ghost’s, his mere presence enough to stifle the tension flowing through the room. The look he gives you tells you everything you need to know. You jump from your seat and stumble slightly as you sprint to the door, unable to contain the excitement bubbling in you. You stop yourself a hair's-width from Ghost’s body. His eyes scan you as you stand there waiting for him to move or say something. His gaze feels almost defiling as he drinks in your features.

“Sorry, Lt.” You hadn’t meant to invade his space the way you did. Your excitement had gotten the better of you. His dark eyes cause an odd heat to crash over you. Before you can enjoy the way his eyes linger, he’s striding back down the hall toward Price’s office. “Hey, Ghost, wait up.” As you start jogging to catch up, you swear you hear a chuckle coming from the man in the room behind you.

~~~~~

Price’s smile was all too telling as you entered the room side by side with your Lieutenant. Soap and Gaz were already standing in the room grinning from ear to ear. Your giddiness escaped you as your face broke out into an equally broad smile. “Well, Iris.” Price gives you a restrained smile as he rounds the corner of the desk. “Welcome back to the team.” His hand falls on your shoulder as his smile grows wider. “Are you ready for your first order soldier?” Your head nods on its own as you listen closely. “Tonight at approximately twenty hundred hours you are to meet with the rest of 141 for a drink to celebrate your return.” He brings you in for a big hug, something he used to do often. He was like a father to you, always so caring, and had a never-ending supply of jokes and rebuttals. After a moment another pair of arms wrapped around you both. Soap laughed as he squeezed you both. Two more arms joined the hug as Gaz made it known that he wasn’t letting you escape the duty of your first mission back.

“I’ll drag you out of your room myself if I have to.” Gaz’s lilting voice gave way to a small cacophony of laughs from the rest of you. Your mind wanders to Ghost, he’d had no input thus far. Before you can think too hard about it, Soap’s body twists against yours.

“Come on Lt. you’re part of this team too.” You feel as Soap reaches toward the man in question. “Come on, for Iris?” He reaches a bit further and with a sudden tug, the whole group is jostled by the sudden impact of Ghost’s large frame joining the pile. Your smile widens even further at the three words that slip off of his tongue.

“This is humiliating.”

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momotonescreaming · 2 months

Note

❤️ for starbara

I had so much fun writing starbara again, you have no idea. So thank you anon, this one is just for you 💜

Prompt: ❤️ first kiss / realization

---

Barb never thought she’d one of those girls. The type of girl others were jealous of. The girls who attracted the popular guys. Boys who invited girls out to the movies, or to a party, or walked through the halls of Hawkins High with girls on their arm. Who’d wave at girls in the halls and smile as they passed. Barb always figured she’d coast through high school single, go off to college, and then date an equally nerdy boy who thought she was just kind of cute.

But here she was, with a note from Steve Harrington in her locker. Written in blue marker on lined paper, signed with a heart.

Meet me under the bleachers - Steve ❤️

So she went. She had the time, and Steve was waiting. It was like he had memorised her schedule or something, picking the perfect moment to slip it into her locker. Right when he knew she had time before her next class. She wasn’t the type to skip class, not for a boy — but if she had free time anyway…

It wasn’t against the rules, what she was doing. She wasn’t skipping class, but Barb felt her heart beat faster all the same. Apparently, she was the type of girl who snuck out of school to go and see the boy who’d been flirting with her in the halls. Barb was the type of girl Steve Harrington wanted. And she wanted him back. So she ignored her steadily racing pulse, her sweaty palms, and focused on the thought of Steve.

Ducking down around the back of the bleachers, it was secluded, shaded from the sun. The perfect place to go where no teachers would see them. And Steve invited her there. The dirt crunches underneath her shoes, and Steve looks up as soon as he hears her. Posture straightening up from where he’d been slouching on one of the posts, waiting for her arrival. Giving her his full attention, smiling the second he locks eyes with her.

It’s like her heart eases in his presence, calming her — before it traitorously speeds up again. He’s so handsome, in his well fitting polo and jeans, with hair that looks soft enough to touch. With the way he seems to melt in her presence, the mask fading away. King Steve fading into the background as it reveals the goofy guy he really is.

“Hey you,” he says, pushing off the post and making his way over to her. ”You came.”

“You invited me,” she teases back, not holding back her own smile as she moves further under the bleachers, almost closing the distance between them. They’re so close now their shoes are almost touching. Close enough for her to reach out and grab, close enough to smell him. His musk, his shampoo, the cologne he puts on in the morning.

“I did, yeah,” he says, smiling and biting his lip. He looks almost as giddy as she feels, her heart speeding up even more.

“Couldn’t get enough?” She teases, flirts, even though she’s not quite sure how. Barb’s never had to flirt with anyone before. But it appears to be working, as Steve laughs. She watches the bob of his throat, feels the exhale of air on her face.

“That obvious?” He asks, ducking his head. Almost shy, coy.

Barb giggles, the sound bubbling up her throat, light and airy. She feels positively girly. She loves it. “I didn’t say it was bad.”

“Well good,” Steve says, reaching out a hand to gently take hers in his. Calloused fingertips brushing along hers, before holding them tight. Anchoring them together. “Because I missed you.”

“Oh yeah?” She flirts, cheeks flushing, finding herself leaning in towards Steve. Drawing her in like a magnet, face tilted up to hers. The pair of them moving slowly, softly, and yet perfectly in sync. Squeezes his hand, ignores the temptation to grab on tight and tug. Pulling him in towards her, their bodies pressed together.

“Yeah. Wanna know something else?” He says, voice dropping slightly as he looks down at her. Lets his gaze drop down to her lips, and then back up to her eyes. The flush on her cheeks deepen, a burning red, she can feel it radiating between them.

“Yeah?” She repeats.

“I want to kiss you. Is that okay?” Barb inhales, sharp, air cool against the tightening of her throat. They haven’t kissed before. Haven’t even named this thing growing between them. Her all encompassing crush. Steve’s eyes soften, concerned, squeezing her hands gently. He’s got a reputation, sure, but Barb knows Steve. He isn’t going to push.

“More than okay,” she exhales, words tumbling out her mouth, falling off her tongue.

He doesn’t let go of her hand, and she’s grateful for it. Squeezes tighter, feels his thick hand in hers, warm and comforting. Brings his other hand up to her face, cradles her jaw, and Barb doesn’t think she’s ever felt a touch that tender. He tilts her head, just slightly, brushing across her cheek with his thumb.

She lets her eyes flutter shut, brings her own hand up to his waist, and then they’re kissing. Their first kiss. She doesn’t think she’s ever going to forget it. He’s gentle with her, lips sliding against lips, moving soft and sweet. Holding her in his arms, keeping her close, Barb holding back.

Steve slowly pulls away, almost entirely too soon, and Barb finds herself chasing his lips with hers. Tilting herself back towards him. Eyes fluttering open, she looks over at Steve to find him looking back. Biting his lip and smiling.

Barb tries not to giggle, giddy and happy and desperately wanting to be kissed again.

---

send me a heart! prompt me!

#ask #anonymous #heart prompts #My Writing #starbara

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tanzdoesthings · 2 months

Text

Fresh Air

this is for an au in collaboration with with @mothsakura and also i believe @ardienothesieno has some input as well? either way they’re both great and fun to talk ideas with. baseline info you need is that iterators walk in their cities, with massive facilities underneath the ground level. also some details on fathoms’ ID is not actually settled now, but the writing is what matters anyways lmao.

The heavy door closes behind Fathoms, quietly as to not draw attention to the fact that the person being celebrated at the gala was suddenly absent from the event. She takes a breath of the fresh air, cooling her systems and letting it out as a sigh, shoulders lowering as she let the uptight posture fade away. The nice thing about having such a large event is that she wasn't expected to be working much at all over the next two cycles. Less pleasant is the constant talking, touching, and interacting she must do with her citizens and other councils. They all want to know why she's so special, how she can do everything, what does it feel like to be so perfect? Those questions, she lets her council answer. Fathoms can't give the answer they want, and all this sensory input is making her overwhelmed. So much data, and she's too far from her neurons to process properly. Therefore, she quietly let herself out.

She was not expecting another iterator to be there, One that she does not recognize. They are sitting near a patch of greenery, picking at the rocks lining the plants. It is clear this iterator did not hear Fathoms walk out, so she tries to catch their attention. "Hello?" Fathoms asks, standing a few paces away.

"Oh- hello?" the stranger answers, turning to look at her. They have a handful of pebbles, clearly picking through the pile to find... something. "You're an iterator! I heard there was supposed to be a lot of them around tonight!" They stand, bringing the assortment of stones to Fathoms. Now that they're standing, she has a much better view of them. They stand just a bit shorter than her, antennas a similar length, though tilted back and decorated with an assortment of little stones and sparkly things. They wore a caplet over a robe, rather standard and simple for iterators. Certainly not an outfit for a gala, and they looked like a river stone compared to her bright pinkish-red hues and sparkling white pearls.

"Look-" they continued talking, "The pebbles here are very nice! See the stripes?"

She had noticed, in the times she had taken breaks out here. She always notices. "Yes, they are quite nice." Fathoms says, looking over the ones they had picked out.

They grab one particularly round one, holding it up. It seems that this is when they truly notice what she looks like. "Woah!" they gasp, dropping the stone. "You are really dressed up! Is it for that meeting-thing? My current admin was all shiny today too."

"Yes, there is a gala tonight. It's very noisy in there, I must admit. Why aren't you attending?" she says gently, hands folded in front of her.

They wave their hand, shaking their head at the same time. "I'm not exactly supposed to be out of the train. It's okay!"

Fathoms was taken aback by this information, but kept moving along. "What's your name? I'm Fathoms of Dreams, she/her. 489."

"Woah-! We're really close in number! I'm 492!" They exclaim, bouncing a little. "They/them, no name yet!"

She tilts her head. "No name? We're so close in age, how do you not have a name yet?"

The nameless iterator shrugs, keeping their demeanor the same. "I keep going from council to council. Nobody has taken care of me long enough to get a name, you know?”

It's a tragedy to Fathoms, but she doesn't voice this concern. Instead, she offers a hand to them, and leads them to a bench. The two sit, overlooking Fathoms' city. The council house is atop a hill, whereas the rest of the city slopes down what was once a lake, now reduced by a large amount to the center of rows and rows of buildings. The lights on each block sparkle in the night, and by the sounds of it, the whole city is using the gala as an excuse to party. The nameless one gasps in awe, sitting and swinging their legs next to Fathoms.

They deserve something nice, Fathoms thinks. She pulls off one of the bracelets given to her for the gala, a simpler one, made with a string running through a pale pink pearl. When she brushes her hands against the pearl, she gets a brief glimpse of the data written to it, around the holes drilled for the string. It's a prayer of well being, rather standard. She taps her new friend's hand, and they perk up, looking at her. Delicately, she takes their hand, slipping the bracelet on. The nameless one beams, as if Fathoms had just moved the whole world for them. Her eyes crinkle in a smile, watching them admire the bracelet.

"Are you serious? You're just giving this to me?" they whisper-shout, one hand on the pearl.

Fathoms nods, and they practically leap to hug her. She breathes in sharply, and this reaction immediately makes them loosen their grip, looking at her. "It's okay- I'm fine, just wasn't expecting... that," she reassures them.

They shift to instead lean against her, watching the city and running their fingers on the pearl. "I'll get you the best gift ever. I'm the greatest at that!"

"I'm sure. You had a good eye for those stones, you know?"

They nod, excitedly, with so much more energy than Fathoms has ever had. A moment of watching the city, and then they speak again. "Why are you at that big meeting anyways?"

That snaps Fathoms back into the reality of her situation. "It's a celebration. The city we are in is celebrating their iterator and the technological progress," she states.

"Wow. Did you meet them? A party so big must be for someone really interesting!"

Her hands grab the fabric of her dress, silky between her bio-mechanical fingers. "It's... for me." The other iterator stares at her with wide eyes, but she continues. "I'm very experimental. I can process very fast, but there are issues. There's a team of mechanics on hand 24/7 in my memory arrays and main bus, making sure my structure doesn't collapse. The whole city is on top of it. The day it does give up... won't be pretty."

"How can there be a party when there's so many problems to fix?" they ask, watching Fathoms.

"Politics, I suppose. I look finished, therefore I am." A pale pink, nearly white overseer darts up to the two, and at the sight of it Fathoms sits up straight, gripping her dress more tightly. They notice, glancing down to look at it. Her breathing sharpens, and she stands up quickly. They shuffle, following her movements.

"You need to leave, go back to your train. Now," she whispers, pushing the nameless one back towards the way they came from. "Follow this overseer."

Thank the void, the unnamed iterator follows her instructions, disappearing around a corner. She only has a moment to smooth her dress before another iterator walks up behind her.

"Fathoms." She knows that voice. She could never mistake that voice for another. "Leaving your own party now?" She turns, and is greeted by her sibling, Ink Run Dry, leaned against the wall. They tilt their head, not amused with the task at hand. "Get back inside. There's some kind of speech soon. I want a good vantage point, but of course, when you disappear, I'm the person they call. You're always back here. I don't know why it's my problem."

"Yes, of course." Fathoms answers curtly, leading the two back inside, away from the fresh air, from the nameless one, from the momentary peace.

#tanz talks #tanz art #rain world #rain world au #rw iterator oc #oc // fod #other oc // mltt #rw city au

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