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saelique · 18 hours

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chapter one. ignorance is bliss

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ tw + cw ノ dark content・character death・graphic descriptions of gore + blood・mentions of nausea・reader implied to have put fyodor on a pedestal・overall kinda not suitable 4 all audiences・12- are highly recommended to not interact

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈・⟡・┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

𓂃 ࣪˖ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒 the library floor as two children sat behind a bookcase, reading a novel together.

the evening light shone through the window and the sun prepared to set. but the two were still immersed in their own fairytale world, away from reality.

the boy whispered the words in the book, while the girl turned its pages, the sound of paper repeatedly flipping every few minutes gently was comforting.

it was really the perfect spot to relax. the perfect amount of golden light and it was warm in the late autumn season, where leaves began to turn yellow, red, and orange. leaving trees bare and naked.

“so what happened next ?” the little girl urged when he paused for breath, pressing closer to her friend to try and read the printed foreign words on the book. “be patient.” he gently scolded, but all the same continued the fairytale.

“the prince then went on a far, far journey to search for his beloved, and he suddenly-“

three knocks on the door. “young master ? your dinner is almost ready, please come out to the dining room to eat.” a maid called through the wooden door. and the children were brought back to reality, the fairytale world fading away once again.

“eh ? already ?” the girl sighs, her lips forming into a pout. “I’ll read the rest of the story for you soon. so don’t worry, okay ?” the boy reassured. “I’ll be back soon. so feel free to keep on reading, okay ?” he reached over and ruffled his companion’s hair lightly, messing it up.

“hmph ! you better keep your promise !” “of course.” and with that, he left, leaving the girl alone in the library.

years passed, and autumn passed and winter stopped by, snowflakes falling down rapidly. truly a shame that the young master couldn’t go outside to play in the snow. after all, he was too sickly a child to even move too much.

the Dostoevsky family was truly one that is easy to pity. a frail and ill heir, a absent father that was away for work, almost never home, and a mother that lost her own mind and even called her own child the devil.

you blew your hot breath against the ice frosted window and drew shapes on it, small hearts and stars.

it was freezing today, and fyodor was most likely in bed, having yet another high temperature fever.

you missed the crisp days where you two would just sit down and read books together. it was a wonderful thing to experience, and you sometimes fell asleep on his shoulder, his voice lulling you to rest after a long day of cleaning and helping to tend to him.

Slowly, the snow melted away, leaving the earth to slowly grow back its plants and flowers. spring had finally arrived. the birds sang happily, their songs cheerful and pretty.

time passed and from a little girl who ran around and hid away from her chores, you turned into a mature yet aloof young maid, always forgetting about her duties.

you changed, while Fyodor stayed the same. he was still the calm, collected, mature and reliable young master he always was.

you thought he was perfect, with his pale and soft skin, pretty magenta eyes who would soften whenever he sees things he likes, pure black hair that was left quite long, and a slender figure.

you always thought that he would look beautiful as a girl, and you did tell him once.

you remember him staring at you in shock before gently patting your head. “I suppose I would.” he agreed, and returned back to reading his book while you left his room after giving him his medication that the doctor prescribed a while ago.

you really did think he was perfect.

running a orphanage for the less fortunate children, going out for visits when he could in town, a popular social figure.

but that very image of him shattered like fragile glass, breaking into millions of little pieces, never able to piece or fix again.

Because you had witnessed him push down a new maid down the stairs.

it happened too quickly, in a flash. So much so you still cant believe if you dreamt of it or not. they were both just chatting by the stairs, the maid blushing and giggling while tucking her dark brown hair behind her ear.

then she was shoved down, the sounds of a heavy object dropping down the floor. red painted the wooden steps, some of it slowly dripping down the steps, creating a gorey sight.

you felt your blood turn ice cold and sweat ran down your face, hands and neck, swallowing your saliva before running away, suppressing the blood curdling scream that was itching your throat, before quickly shoving the apron you were wearing into your mouth, you rushed back to your room as quietly as possible, trying to process what just happened moments prior.

digging your nails into the palm of your hand hard, creating small crescent moons as you shook and trembled, teeth chattering as you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head to clear the horrible, horrible image that imprinted on your mind.

you quickly breathed in and out, feeling as if your heart would burst out of your chest, dizziness and a headache starting to form.

was that really the same person who would read you fairytales and laugh at your horrible jokes ? who would constantly cover up for you ?

you wanted to throw up, a feeling of unease and a feeling of nausea in your stomach as you lurched, instinctively slapping your hand to your mouth as you shuddered.

you should really stop thinking so much about this.

clumsily getting up from your cowering position from the floor with the help of leaning on your bed, you managed to stumble through the door and leave, making sure that no one saw your disheveled and nervous form

making your way to the garden with a little trouble, you arrived there with a sigh.

“[name] ! c’mon ! help me with these weeds !” svetlana called, snapping you out of your dazed trance, holding a basket of weeds, her hands sore and red from the pulling.

“hm ? you look really sickly [name] are you okay ?” svetlana asked, worried as she placed the back of her hand to your head, staring at your complexion.

“n-no- I- uhm- well- I-“ you stuttered over your words as you felt tears almost threatening to spill over, biting your lower lip.

“wha-? hey, hey, it’s okay [name], calm down/ I’ll fetch-“

“maybe she’s suffering from heatstroke ?”

a cool and kind voice interrupted the both of you. you stiffened, your pupils dialating as you shakily turned your head to reveal who you wanted to avoid the most.

“hello, surprised to see me ?”

he smiled, one that radiated of innocence and kindness. one that made you sick to your core. how many times had he attempted murder ? how many people had he killed ? judging by his act, it wasn’t his first one. Fyodor then coughed into his handkerchief. A few droplets of blood on it that was most likely his.

oh god what if you were next ?

you had to live. you can’t die yet. you didn’t even get the chance to go to the capital and have fun. and that romance novel you’ve been reading, how many chapters have you read ? oh yeah. you just started ! and the plot twist ! you’ve been saving it for days !

“oh ! young master ? aren’t you supposed to be in bed ? and I suppose . . . today is a hot day after all.” she sighed, before gently taking your arm. “mmm, stay safe you two. thank you for working hard today as well. I’ll see you around.” and with that, he went off to god knows where. Probably to hide any evidence leading to him.

“I’ll bring you a wet cloth, how about that ?” svetlana kindly suggested, while you sat there in silence.

the day ended with you in bed, staring at the ceiling blankly. you ended up finding that corpse again with svetlana when the both of you headed to your room. Only when you saw that body this time did you let out the scream that was begging to be heard. you kept on shaking, seeing the mass amounts of blood and and everyone ended up concluding that it was a accident. that maid had quite a reputation for being clumsy after all.

you sighed and closed your eyes, letting sleep catch up with you and catch you in its embrace.

you woke up hyperventaling. tears streaming down your face and sweat clinging onto your nightclothes. it was still too early, with the sun only starting to rise and the dark night sky fading to a lighter colour. Your heart thumping more and more as you tried to take deep breathes in.

Who knew dreaming of being murdered would feel so real and scary ? the time for you to head up to his room arrived and as you took the tray, the feeling of nausea filled you. you wanted to tell someone, to confine in someone close like svetlana.

but no one would believe you. you couldn’t even believe it yourself. now every trip to deliver him medicine was only going to petrify you, your legs shaking as the floorboards creaked and twisted under your steps.

the only reasonable thing to do was to avoid him of course. but how long could you keep this up without him noticing. his eyes that usually provided you comfort now only added to your paranoia, that he would one day decide to murder you.

why would he even kill you though ? there wasn’t any reason to kill that maid after all. she never made any trouble or inconvenienced anyone. so, what was his goal ?

you shuddered as you walked up the stairs. it was best to feign ignorance. then run the fuck away from this hell hole the second you gathered enough money.

ignorance truly was bliss wasn’t it ?

you were so going to shoot yourself in the head if you see another goddamn murder again. holding the tray tightly, you placed it down the floor and knocked.

“young master ?” you gulped, “I’ll leave your medicine here. I’ll go now.” drawing in a sharp breath, you ran away as fast as you could, before he had the chance to open the door or reply.

you needed to get out this place quickly before you get killed in the worst way possible. and fast.

“hm ? she already left ?” a young man muttered, before bending over to pick up the tray that was placed on the floor. “she didn’t see what happened yesterday . . . right ?”

“I’ll have to kill her before she tells anyone then. just to be safe . . .”

just be wary and be on your fight or flight mode at all times, okay ?

#౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ : novels !#bsd x reader #Fyodor x reader #dostoevsky x reader #fyodor dostoevsky bsd #fyodor angst #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bsd x reader angst #bungo stray dogs x reader fluff #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd fyodor

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chat-dank · 10 months

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You have the right to like your Angbang intense. You have the right to like your Angbang fucked up. You have the right to like your Angbang unhinged. You have the right to like your Angbang harmful. But you also have a right to like your Angbang fluffy, too. You are not woobifying them if you like it soft or write a fic where they say they love each other or kiss or high five or take a bite from the same sandwich or whatever. You have a different interpretation, that’s all. You’re not committing some horrid unforgivable atrocity against your fandom. You’re not an “annoying fan” if you want your ships happy, even if other people dislike you for it, the same way you are not an “annoying fan” if you like your ships intense and other people dislike you for it. You’re not a mean person for having an opinion that the majority dislikes. You’re an individual human being who has an opinion and your opinion is worth JUST as much as every other opinion in your fandom. Because that’s how opinions work. You’re not disregarding canon any more than people who bend it to fit their other non-canon ships or headcanons or other interpretations of this ship or their interpretation of any other ship or anything else that JRRT or Christopher or the Tolkien estate disagree with. We all see a piece of media and interpret it differently. It doesn’t make any of us better or worse for it. Ship and let ship.

#Can the #Silmarillion #fandom stop being hostile towards different depictions of their own ships #for five minutes?#Yeah another post about #angbang #Remember how the Tolkien estate was FURIOUS with the LOTR trilogy for the changes that were made?#Remember how millions of people still saw the films and fell in love with LOTR and Middle Earth and the very concept of fantasy regardless?#Children who never saw another LOTR adaptation prior and adults who remember the Bakshi version& their localized low-budget tv adaptations #all saw it and agreed that a story made with so much love still deserves to be told even if there were changes made to the source material #If a story or a headcanon or an opinion about a ship or a fanwork or an interpretation is made with love to bring people joy...#it has the right to be shared #even if those people aren't the majority by the way #Did Jackson woobify Aragorn by giving him extra angst? If so.. where are all the takes about bad fans liking woobified angsty movie Aragorn?#Remember the times before the 2-3 artists who often drew supportive angbang left when people kept giving them crap for their depictions?#And now you don't see that art anymore either on tumblr or at all. Does that make anyone happy? did anyone accomplish their goals?#Why make people leave again? Do you hate differing opinions so much that they do not deserve the right to exist?#Does it genuinely make anyone happy to try rid a fandom of all ideas they disagree with them their preexisting friends' ones? Why?#I'm so old I still remember when it was common fandom etiquette to NOT tag the thing you were insulting without the word 'anti' before it.#...Do I need to keep going or can we ship and let ship now and NOT mock people for having a different take on a FICTIONAL pairing?

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spicyspiders · 23 days

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something that never existed

Francis Mosses x male reader smut

1.4k words

This is really dark. Francis gives the reader a bottle of milk that makes him feel funny, follows him home, and then takes care of him.

It hits you during the middle of your shift. You aren’t sure of what, but the feeling of it has grown more intense each hour since it began. Pushing through the double doors is harder than when you did it this morning, your arms feeling heavy.

The cool evening air against your skin nearly has you moaning. Your skin burns, and the refreshing air makes you want to tear off your clothes. Each step against the pavement feels heavy as you slug your way to your home. If you were a passerby, you would probably be annoyed hearing the loud sound of your shoes against the sidewalk, but even though the noise filled your ears again and again, you could also hear the quieter steps of someone behind you.

Someone fucking drugged you. Or maybe something made it through the slot in your workstation. Or maybe–

You didn’t fucking know. All you knew was that because of it, you were half-hard by the time you made it to your front door.

“Are you following me?” You asked loudly as you leaned your sweaty forehead against your door. You panted against the door as you waited for a response. You laughed to yourself as you stuck your hand into your pocket to get your keys. Great, alongside the lust, you were also going crazy.

“You looked like you needed help. So yes, I followed you,” a voice said from behind you.

Your eyebrows drew together, trying to recognize the voice. It only took a few moments to pinpoint where you knew it from. You heard nearly a hundred voices a day at your job, but there was something about the man’s voice that was different and made it memorable.

You just couldn’t remember his name though. Frank? Fraser? Frederick? You didn’t really care to try and remember his name. You had more pressing matters, like picking up the keys you had finally pulled from your pocket and then dropped on the fucking ground.

“Let me,” Frank, Fraser, or Frederick says, his voice much closer behind you. “Here,” he says, now beside you.

You hold your hand out to accept the cold metal into your palm. You hope the man will just leave as you close your fingers around the keys and the sharp metal digs into your palm, but the man stays.

“I’m fine,” you say to the man, sticking the key into the knob with your shaky hands.

“Let me at least help you get inside,” the man responds, one of his hands moves to your shoulder, while the other goes to your waist to hold you upright.

“Fuck,” you whisper. Where he touches you somehow feels warmer than the rest of your body feels, even over your clothes. His voice brings you back to earlier in the day when he showed up to the window to be let in. You thought it was pretty weird for a milkman to deliver to his own apartment building, but it definitely wasn’t the weirdest thing you saw during your shift.

“Let me in?” He had asked you earlier that day. Through the window, you could see his carrier full of milk bottles, but you could also see an extra bottle in his other hand.

“Making an extra delivery for today?” You asked as you looked over the papers he gave you.

The man didn’t answer. He must not have heard you, you thought. He nodded in appreciation when you gave his papers back and pressed the button to unlock the door. You thought that was going to be that, but the man got your attention again after you had started going through other papers on your desk.

“This is for you, actually,” he said as he held the bottle up. One corner of his mouth twitched up, making it look like for once, he wasn’t miserable.

“Oh,” you said in surprise. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to accept gifts, but took the bottle anyway through the slot under the window.

“You must get thirsty back there.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled lightly, “my mouth can get dry with all of the talking I do.”

He left after that, but you swore his eyes had flicked down to your lips before he walked through the door.

“Did you put something in that milk?” You asked, pulling the key from the knob.

Francis. You remembered as his hand went over yours on the knob. You could see the document in your head, as you tried to remember if the man with you now was the same from earlier in the day.

“Did you like it?” He asked, “I made it just for you,” he said into your ear, his warm breath puffing across your ear.

With strength you didn’t know you still had, you sent your elbow backward into the man’s chest. You thought that would be enough, but found yourself on the other side of the door with Francis on your back.

“What’d you do to me?” You moaned against the door. His weight on your back was heavy as he held you against the door. This close, you could feel the length of his cock digging into your lower back.

You let out another moan, but this time, Francis lets out one that matches yours when he grinds his hard cock into your back. His hands go to your hips to maneuver you around so he can grind his cock into the meat of your ass.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” Francis says, laying his body along the length of your back so he can say the words directly into your ear.

Enough to drug you, you guessed. Whatever he gave you was enough to turn your brain to mush, and the only control you had was dedicated to pushing your ass back into his cock.

“Please,” you whined, “it hurts.” Francis lets you fall slowly to the floor and makes his way to hold himself tightly against your back. What hurts is your hard cock, but of course, Francis knows that the relief you need comes in the form of his hands between your legs.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Francis whispers. His fingers skillfully get your pants open, and then his fingers– the same ones you saw earlier today hand you his papers, wrap around your cock.

You immediately fuck your hips into his fist, much closer than you expected. You hoped that with your release, Francis would be leaving along with it. Maybe you had fallen asleep at your station and this was some fucked up dream you were having. Letting your head fall forward to thunk into your door didn’t wake you up, so it’s likely that this was real.

“You’re so wet here,” Francis says in amazement as his fingers collect the precum from the head of your cock and what had already leaked down the shaft. He hooks his chin on your shoulder before he pulls his hand from your cock, and up to his mouth.

He groans into your neck when he gets the taste on your tongue, “Francis,” you whisper, hoping that saying his name would be enough. You didn’t want to beg, after all, your hard cock should be evidence enough of what you needed.

“I’m sorry,” Francis says, kissing his apology into the soft skin of your neck. Though it wasn’t on your lips, the press felt electric. “I just needed a taste.”

His words go straight to your cock and you feel another bead of precum drip from the head, just in time for Francis’ fingers as they wrap around the base.

You cum to Francis’ long fingers around your cock and to the feel of his cock digging into your back. With his chest pressed to your back, the groan he lets out as you come undone under his hands travels through your body. It almost feels as if he’s so close that he’s a part of you and the noise comes from your mouth. It makes you feel crazy. What makes you feel even crazier though is how much you moan for the man as your orgasm courses through your body.

Francis holds your body up with an arm wrapped around your stomach as you pant against the door and come down from the orgasm that just shot through your body. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart,” Francis says, his voice full of promise, “it’s been a long day.”

It must be the drugs, you thought as you let him pull you up from the floor. Your soft cock gives a twitch from where it hangs between your legs. You weren’t even sure if it was worth buttoning your pants back up.

Francis was right, it had been a long day, but you had a feeling that you also had a long night ahead of you.

#x male reader #x male reader smut #milkman x reader #milkman x male reader #francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x male reader #francis mosses x male reader smut

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vivwritesfics · 2 months

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I'm Having Your Baby

It's None Of Your Business

It was supposed to just be a one night stand. It wasn't supposed to be anything more. But three positive pregnancy tests later and she realises she's fucked.

(I actually don't like Harry Styles)

Warnings: smut, mention of abortion

The bass was thumping, the music blasting and the lights flying in the club. She was letting loose, shaking her hips in time to the music. She was the envy of everybody in the club.

He was across the dance floor, sat in one of the booths lining the wall. In his hands was a jack and coke, the ice in his glass almost completely melted. Although he was on the other side of the club, he could still see her. Actually, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Something about her drew him closer. He wove his way through the crowds of people until he was standing in front of her, hands of her gyrating hips. Wordlessly she wrapped her arms around his neck and moved her body along with his.

He knew he had to have her. Carlos kissed her that night. He pulled her close as he pressed his lips to her. Before long his tongue was down her throat and they had forgotten about dancing.

She ended up at his place that night. He laid her down in his bed and stripped off her clothes. She shivered in the cool air of his bedroom, but it wasn't long before his warm, naked body was on top of hers, thrusting into her, bring wave after wave of pleasure.

He rolled his hips against her, setting his pace according to his moan. He was completely focused on bringing her pleasure again and again.

Nobody had ever fucked her like that before. No single man had ever made her cum that many times.

But still, she was out of his bed, out of his house before he woke up, never to see him again.

The pregnancy test was taken three and a half weeks later. At 25 days she realised she had missed her period. It wasn't worrying until she remembered her counter in the club.

But she never expected it to come up positive. It must have been a fluke she realised. There was no way she was actually pregnant. Not after a single occurrence of unprotected sex.

But then she took another test. And then another. They all came up positive. Fuck, she really was pregnant. And she didn't even know the name of the father.

Actually, it was pretty easy to find out the name of the father. Her little brother was into Formula One, and she recognised him the moment he walked onto the screen.

She hadn't told her family of her pregnancy yet, and she wouldn't, not until she absolutely had to. She hid her pregnancy tests in her apartment and headed off to spend time with them.

It was a Sunday, so of course her brother was watching Formula One while her mother prepared Sunday night dinner. She was sat behind her brother, sipping lemonade as the driver's on the screen were interviewed.

The camera slowly panned across the Ferrari garage. Her glass dropped out of her hand, shattering on the floor. "What the hell?" Her brother shrieked as he stood up, avoiding the smashed glass.

"Who is that?" She asked as she pointed to the number 55 driver. He looked just as he did all those weeks ago, somehow better in his black fireproofs and red overalls.

Her brother gave her a frown. "That? That's Carlos Sainz, but why do you care?"

But she had already disappeared into the bathroom to throw up until she was dry heaving. Her baby daddy was Carlos Sainz, the world famous Ferrari driver.

It took her a moment to calm down. When she did, she opened her Instagram and went to his account. She scrolled through his account, as if to make sure it was definitely him. But it was undeniable.

It was a gamble going into his messages. But she had to do something to get his attention, had to let him know what was going on. If he didn't see it then so be it, she didn't need him to raise their baby.

Hi, you might not remember me but we hooked up a month ago. We met in the club and I was wearing a red dress with converse. Well, I'm pregnant.

She sent the message and walked out of the bathroom. The glass had been cleaned up from the living room floor and her family were already sat around the dinner table, the race on in the background. Her legs shook as she joined them.

"Is everything okay, dear?" Her mother asked and she nodded her head. She'd tell them, but not today.

Three days later Carlos Sainz messaged her on Instagram. She couldn't quite believe it when she woke up to that notification.

I remember

That was all he said. It was disappointing, actually. Where did she go from here?

Carlos Sainz said nothing more to her, not until a few months later. She got on with her life while their child grew inside of her, and he got on with his.

Or she assumed he did, at least. Actually, Carlos hadn't stopped thinking about it. It was distracting him from racing and training, and stopping him from eating and drinking.

He remembered her from the club, remembered fucking her. Remembered the way his cock slipped through her velvety folds.

It was one night, it couldn't have been his, right?

After four months of needless stress, Carlos finally messaged her again.

I'm sorry to do this but I need you to prove it to me

No, it was fair enough. She grabbed her pregnancy tests, stood in front of her mirror with her bump exposed. That was the picture she sent to Carlos. That was the picture that made him realise that he really was going to be a father.

Fuck. A new wave of stress rolled through him. What was he supposed to do now?

Are you keeping it?

Yes, she texted back. Yes, I'm keeping it

That wasn't the answer that Carlos wanted to see. He was going to be a father and he really didn't want to.

I want nothing to do with it

She sucked in a breath. Fine, she didn't need him. They didn't need him. But still she accepted Carlos' request on Instagram.

Something in her still wanted his attention. As soon as she could, and for as little money as possible, she booked tickets to the next grand prix.

It was hot, swelteringly so. She was dressed in a tight fitting shirt and shorts that showed off her bump. Her parents paid for paddock passes and she spent as long as she could walking in front of the Ferrari garage.

Carlos noticed her, but not right away. It was a minute before he regnised her. But then he was Marching over to her. "What're you doing here?" He hissed as he pulled her away from prying eyes.

She swallowed thickly. "I..." but she had nothing prepared to say to him, no excuse. She'd hoped him just seeing her bump would change his mind.

But it remained unchanged.

"I'm here with my girlfriend. You can't be here," he said. He hadn’t looked at her bump, not yet. "Get out of here," he hissed.

But she stepped up to him. "I'm having your baby, Carlos."

"It's none of my business." He turned on his heel and walked away.

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triptuckers · 4 months

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on the bottom of the lake - percy jackson

Request: yes! "I love ur writing!! could you write something w Percy helping anxious reader?? I’ve been super stressed lately and idk this show is keeping me sane lmao" Pairing: Percy Jackson x reader Summary: you've been stressed and percy knows the perfect way to help you relax Warnings: reader being stressed, some swearing, anxiety Word count: 917 A/N: I drew so many pjo characters yesterday I cant wait to share them when I'm done with them :) thanks for your request, enjoy!

you don't know if you've ever felt like this. sure, you'd been stressed before. but now you're losing sleep over it. and not a few hours, just nights without zero sleep at all.

you've got a big project you need to do for school over the summer. if you call, it'll be your last strike and you'd be expelled. like it was your fault you had trouble reading and concentrating.

when you arrived at camp half-blood at the start of summer, you thought some of your worries would go away.

the opposite happened.

you saw everyone around you having a good time. they didn't have to worry about some project. they slept peacefully from night til morning.

even if you can't work on your project, you're constantly thinking about it. your mind never rests.

percy noticed you've been stressed and tries to talk to you about it, but you always shut him down. it's enough to think about it all the time, let alone talk about it.

after a couple of days, percy tries again. he really wants to help you, but he don't know why.

'hey, y/n?' says percy.

'what's up?' you say, looking up at him. you're supposed to help your cabin prepare for tonight's bonfire, but so far you're not helping much.

'about your project-'

'gods, will you leave it alone, percy!' you burst out. 'I think about that fucking project all day don't you start about it as well!'

percy takes a step back and you realise it's because of you.

'I'm sorry! sorry!' you say, getting up and grabbing one of his hands. 'I'm so sorry I didn't mean it.'

you feel tears slowly starting to fall.

'hey, it's okay.' says percy softly. he reaches up and brushes a tear from your cheek. 'want to go to the lake for a while?'

you nod. percy leads you to the lake. you close your eyes and let the breeze calm you down. but still the project is on your mind. if you go to your cabin now, you could get some work done.

percy tugs on your hand and you open your eyes to look at him.

'get in.' he says, nodding his head toward the lake.

'now?'

percy nods.

'percy, I don't want to go swimming right now.'

'do you trust me?'

'of course.'

'then get in.'

you sigh. what did you have to lose? maybe a swim would be nice.

'let me get my bathing suit.' you say.

'nope.' says percy, pulling you by your hand as he jumps in the lake. before you can stop him, you're pulled forward by his momentum. seconds later, the water surrounds you.

you want to yell at him for getting your clothes soaked, but you remember you're under water. once you get your bearings, you open your eyes, letting them get accustomed to the water.

you try to swim to the surface, but percy still holds on to your hand and pulls you further down, all the way to the bottom of the lake.

good for him, he's a poseidon kid. you aren't. you can't breathe underwater. surely percy knows that right?

he lets go of you hands and swims to the bottom of the lake.

you're going to have to go up for air soon.

you can see percy sitting down on the ocean floor, gesturing at you to join him. you squint your eyes. it looks like the water is less murky down there.

you let yourself sink down to percy's level. the water is less murky here because there is no water here.

'I didn't know you could do this.' you say, looking around the air bubble you're in.

'pretty cool, right?' says percy, smiling proudly.

'why are we here?'

'I mostly come here when I need to be alone. if you sit here in silence for a while, the fish will come up to you. and I always thought the waves are soothing to look at from down here.'

you look up and watch the waves for a while. sunlight pours through the water, giving it a soft glow.

you move closer to percy and rest your head on his shoulder.

the two of you sit there for a while. and percy was right. after some time, fish start to swim around your bubble.

percy tells you about the lake and the animals and after a while even two water nymphs come to say hello. percy knows them and introduces you to them.

you sit there for so long you lose track of time. it's getting late, so you decide to swim up to the surface.

normally you would have been soaked, but thanks to percy you're warm and dry.

you stifle a yawn as percy takes your hand in his and starts walking towards the cabins.

'thank you, that was nice.' you say.

'one of the bonuses of dating a poseidon kid.' says percy, lightly squeezing your hand.

he notices you hadn't talked about your project at all when you were in the lake. and you look genuinely tired. he hopes you can get at least one good nights sleep tonight.

'want to stay at my cabin tonight?' he says.

you smile and nod. 'yeah I'd like that.'

the two of you head to percy's cabin to get some sleep. and percy had been right, you got a good night of uninterrupted sleep. you dreamt of nothing but the comfort of the lake, and percy's presence next to you.

A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#pjo #percy jackson #Percy Jackson x reader #Percy Jackson fanfiction #Percy Jackson fanfic #Percy Jackson fanfics #Percy Jackson fic #Percy Jackson fics #Percy Jackson oneshot #Percy Jackson oneshots #pjo fanfiction #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfics #pjo fic #pjo fics #pjo oneshot #pjo oneshots

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glader13 · 3 months

Text

Me and the Devil

A/N: this is true form/ Heian period Sukuna x Heian period reader

“Was this your plan all along?” You asked, “To make me have your son?”

He couldn’t hide his smirk and neither could you as you rested your body on top of his, staring into his fiery eyes, hands getting lost in his pink hair. Instead of answering, he trapped you with his arms, pressing your warm bodies even closer together. You kissed his neck, moving to his jawline, before finally landing on his lips. The kiss was lazy and sweet as his tongue softly caused your mouth to open, much different from bruising kisses just moments earlier.

“Kissing isn’t an answer,” you said, finally pulling away from him, “But I’m assuming it’s yes.”

“One of them,” he murmurs, caressing your back, as you lay down on top of him, “But you had most of the plans already thought out.”

You smiled softly, your fingers lazily tracing the markings on his skin. You didn’t fail to notice how he relaxed under the touch of your fingers, as if he was holding his breath before then. You stopped tracing his markings, and held his hand, staring into the garden, wondering if this is something, or if you are a glorified servant. He treats you like something special, he acts like you are, but are you truly worth his time? Or did he use you to help expand his reign of terror? The gifts, the jewels, the intimate moments together when he calls you his or mine, have some truth to it, right?

You have never dared to say those three words, but you thought about it, each time when he fucked you delirious, the words were always on your tongue, ready to spill over. But the binding curse, he wouldn’t do that to anyone, you hoped that he did it with the intention to keep you close, forever by his side. You hoped that it was a silent act of love, of his devotion. Your back seemed to tickle from the remembrance of the light strokes of the curse being imprinted, questioning him about how it works. You remember his kisses on your shoulders and back as you sat in between his legs, a pair of arms holding you against him as the other pair drew the curse. He explained something about if he gets sealed and awakened again, you will too, no matter how far in the future, he’ll have you. You remember feeling his dark eyes on you, waiting to see how you would react as you sat in the candlelight, feeling so close to him. As if the two of you shared one breath, feeling as if your hearts were beating as one.

“To be by your side would be an honor,” you told him then, lacing your hands together, despite wanting to say something else. Now, you felt the same three words again burning into your mind and tongue, you needed to say them so you could hear them fall from his lips. You were only aware of him and how his heart was beating steadily against your body, reverberating throughout your being. You were aware of how you yearned for him, aching for a confirmation of his love.

“Do you fear anything?” You asked, those words still on the tip of your tongue, though you were still unable to tell him.

“No,” you felt his voice rumble from his chest to your body, “Why should I have to fear anything?”

You pressed further, “To lose anything, do you fear that? That something you hold onto so closely will be taken away. You don’t fear that at all?”

You didn’t notice, but his eyes did finally lower to your face, then to your hand, which was hidden by his larger one. You felt his arms shift around you as if he was trying to hold you closer, as you relaxed in his arms, waiting for his answer, “Do you?” He asked.

“With all that’s been happening,” you sighed, “Sometimes I believe that being strong isn’t enough.”

“Well,” he says, gently holding the bottom of your face, forcing you to look into his dark eyes, “It’s irrational, so stop. You don’t need to let fear control you, not when someone as strong as me controls the earth that you walk on.”

“Understood, King of Curses,” you smiled, at which he rolled his eyes.

You slowly drifted into sleep, lulled by a mixture of his heart and the constant strokes of his fingers, he thought of how he got here, with you on him. Abused by everyone because of what you could do and see, you stumbled upon his palace. He could feel the untamed power radiating from you, and it intrigued him, along with your attitude towards him. But with some time, you convinced him to help you with your anger, and he watched you kill those who wronged you. In the blood, and the chaos of your smile, your eyes bled with something that he craved, and he was taken aback. Noticing more than just your power, it was beauty in the chaos.

He thought of these moments and watched you fall asleep all with a tightened jaw. He could never tell you about the moments when irrational fear would come over him when it comes to you and your safety, to your mortality. The attacks from those who are against him, who want to kill him, have been getting stronger, and more coordinated. Involving you when they can’t get to him. These sorcerers have focused their attention on stopping his reign and any attempts of it in the future, they don’t know if the two of you could have a child, hell, the two of you don’t even know. But with your curse technique mixed with Sukuna’s, they don’t want to take that chance. Outside of spreading his bloodline, you’re no saint, the blood of your village and countless others on your hands. They have a reason to kill you.

Your techniques, what makes you so valuable and formidable, is what makes you a target, causing him to feel irrational. It causes rage to course through him when he sees you with your injuries as you would sweetly tell him to not worry. It’s why he has kept you here as he would leave for his tasks, with Uraume to watch you. He does fear losing you, and in moments like this when you’re lying so peacefully on him, is when he feels it the most. Is this what humans call love, this feeling of wanting to protect you? Is this fear love? He lightly caressed your face, knowing that he would raze the world if your heart were to ever stop prematurely, nothing would be safe from him.

He quietly chuckles to himself, assuming that this is love.

A/N: This could be a part of a larger story, so please let me know what you think ☺️✌🏾

#x fem!reader #anime x reader #anime x female reader #drabble #jujutsu kaisen #jujitsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #ryomen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #heian era #sukuna x female reader

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gojonanami · 7 months

Text

SEEING YOU TONIGHT, IT'S A BAD IDEA RIGHT? - SATORU GOJO

summary: seeing your ex was always a bad idea, but not if it was satoru gojo.

cw: 18+ readers only, smut, f!reader, innuendos, ex-boyfriend!Satoru, praise kink, thigh riding, degradation, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), breeding kink.

a/n: gojo and bad idea right by olivia rodrigo has been living in my head rent free and here's the product :).

word count: 3,873

It was dangerous.

Look at this picture I drew Nanami. Can’t believe he didn’t want to keep it.

Gojo attaches a picture of a crudely drawn dick, and you snort at your phone.

It was a dangerous game the two of you were choosing to play.

Small. Is the response you choose. Short but funny. And just enough to elicit a response you want.

You know the real thing is much bigger.

And there it was.

The game the two of you chose to play back and forth always ended here one way or another - and usually it was him who drove it there in the first place.

Is it? I don’t remember.

Then come over and I’ll remind you.

But that didn’t mean you were completely blameless either.

You bite your lip at his text. You really shouldn’t.

You’re just horny.

That’s right.

Another message.

For you.

Fuck him. But that’s what exactly you wanted to do again.

You told yourself the last time would be the last time. After he had fucked you and left you high and dry, you told yourself you wouldn’t fuck your exes or let them fuck with you. And you didn’t — except for Gojo.

He was always the fucking exception wasn’t he?

And he was the exception to your ick to double texting - because you supposedly took too long to respond to his message.

Should I show you what you’re missing?

And it’s a picture of him fresh out of the shower, with the most shit eating grin on his face. Water ringlets traced his body with absolute reverence, his thighs teasingly visible, reminding you how you had come undone on them the last time you hooked up, and the towel of his was frustratingly too low on his waist.

What’s your new address?

Fuck.

And that’s what you were going to get done tonight.

You didn’t know what to wear. But did it matter because it was going to come off anyway. You opted for a little black dress, one that was a little too short and little too tight.

You pull up to his place - off campus - and it’s a new shiny high rise building that you stare up at with squinting eyes. Show off.

“Trust me, I’m not overcompensating for anything,” and you whirl around to see him waiting for you, “but you know that don’t you?”

“Oh do you ever shut up?” and he leans closer, tilting his sunglasses off his face, lips curled in that goddamn grin. His blue button-up and jeans made your breath catch -- god it had been so long since you've seen him out of his usual Jujutsu Tech uniform.

“I plan to, later tonight,” and you scoff, as he leads you to his building, a hand on the small of your back that sends sparks flying up your spine.

“Memory recalls you don’t shut up much during that as well,” and his hand snakes around your waist as you both walk in, nodding to the doorman as he lets you both into the elevator, “don’t you live at the school? I was surprised when you told me that have a place off-campus,”

“Well I prefer to live in a place free of teenagers sometimes,” his arm leaves you, slipping into his pockets, as he raises an eyebrow, “unless you were looking forward to fucking in our old school,”

You glare at him, “Gojo-“

“That’s not what you called me in Yaga’s classroom that one afternoon when everyone was away-" He says cheekily.

“Oh my god, Satoru, shut up,” and you crush your lips to his, and he’s grinning. His arms slip around your waist as if they never even left. But these weren’t the same lean arms that pinned you to a desk as he ate you out that one afternoon - no these were the ones of a man who has trained and seen battle time and time again. You were always surprised at how broad Satoru had gotten over the years - it shouldn’t be a surprise as he was always the “strongest” but he was lean and fit before, slender almost - but now, as he pressed you against the wall of the elevator, fingers digging into your ass, his body engulfed you.

And you were already addicted to the feeling.

If it was any more obvious, you don’t hear the ding of the elevator as you arrive at his floor, as he pulls away, “going to have to part for a second sweetheart, need to unlock the door.”

But he pulls you along by your hand, and somehow that gesture is all the more overwhelming than anything you had done in the elevator.

You watch him scan his keycard, unlocking the door, “How much does Jujutsu High pay you?”

And he smirks, “Perks of being the strongest,” but you frown at that — you know those were few and far between.

But he pulls you inside, pressing you against the door, “Now where were we?” He hums against your neck, his hands slide over your bare thighs, “I’ve missed this-“

“Could have fooled me,” you sigh as he kisses your neck, “I haven’t heard from you in a year,”

“I am a very busy man,” and he lifts you with such ease, hands wrapped around your thighs, your dress so easily riding up, “wear this just for me?”

“Just for you, and maybe on a few dates,” and his head tilts, expression flickering with jealousy for a millisecond before his god complex returns.

“And yet here you are with me,” and he’s kissing you again, his tongue parting your lips with ease, as if he’s trying to erase any evidence of another person’s touch. You moan when he sucks on your bottom lip, “so pliable, aren’t you sweetheart? Just fall to pieces under my touch,”

And his words serve to make you squirm, but as a challenge as well, as your hands tug him by his collar, “and you don’t? I recall that afternoon in the classroom, and I had to pray no one walked by so they wouldn’t hear your moans when I rode you,”

But he’s annoyingly unfazed, his breath warm against your skin, “I love a woman who takes charge, that’s why I can’t get enough of you,” and he’s closing the gap between you, kissing your lips, before tracing kisses down your jaw and neck, until his teeth graze your pulse, “should I leave a mark?”

“Gojo-“

“Oh I’m definitely leaving a mark now,” and his teeth dig into your neck, sucking and licking, drawing a moan from your throat, “does anyone else make you moan like this?”

“Why are you interested in —ah—“ and he’s tugging the straps of your dress off, “that?” The last word comes out as a whisper.

“No bra? And you’re so insistent that you weren’t flirting with me over text,” and he snaps the strap against your skin, “it’s always flirting when it’s us, sweetheart,”

“You didn’t answer my question,” you grumble and he’s carrying you now, your arms around his shoulders, “Gojo-“

And he’s pressing you to the wall outside his bedroom, and he’s taking off his sunglasses - and no matter how many times you’ve seen his eyes - no matter how many times you’ve stared into them — they always make you feel like you’re drowning — breathless and slow, like you submerged in water, unable break to the surface.

“Are you going to continue to call me that?” And he’s being rough as he teases your thighs apart, his fingers teasing the hem of your dress, “because I may take you right here - let all my neighbors hear you cum on my fingers, my mouth, or my cock - dealer’s choice,” and his kiss is bruising, as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, relentless as always, always trying to prove himself, and he had nothing to prove.

And it only took his hand shaking up your thigh to press on the wet patch of your underwear to make you break.

“Satoru, fuck-“ and his grin makes you shiver.

“Good girl,” and you nearly come undone from those words alone, as he carries you to his bedroom, tossing you into his bed without much to-do.

You bounce against the springs of the mattress slightly, but he’s on you in a moment, perched over you, as he meets your lips in a desperate kiss, as if he had parted from your lips ten years ago as opposed to ten seconds.

You are pulling at his shirt, trying to get it over his head, but he pins your arms down before you can, “not yet, baby,”

You’re strong but not when he’s using his strength to hold you in place, “Satoru-“ and he’s using his free hand to slide your straps down lower, “that’s not fair-“

“I was born unfair,” and you snort, but it quickly turns to a groan when his hand squeezes your breast.

“So sensitive,” and he leans his head down to suck on your nipple, “no one tastes as good as you sweetheart,”

“And how many others have you tasted this year?” And he doesn’t pause, only switches to the other, as his fingers tease the other nipple.

“I could ask you the same,” and you gasp as his teeth graze your nipple, “Satoru-“ and he pauses now, “tell me,”

You grit your teeth, “No-"

“Then I’m going to suck a hickey here,” he kisses right above your nipple, “and you won’t be wearing these low cut dresses for a while,” and his teeth bare against your skin, and you jolt against him, “tell me,” he repeats.

You lay your head back, “I said I went on a few dates, I didn’t say I have slept with anyone else-ah-“And he’s sucking the mark, his teeth biting and nibbling on the skin, as he soothes it with his tongue, “you said you wouldn’t-“ you whine, and he smiles, before pressing his lips to yours.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he cups your cheek, “shyness suits you,”

And he’s tugging your dress downward, rolling it down to your stomach, and you’re pulling at his shirt, until he helps you get it off his shoulders. And your eyes rake over his chest, “Like what you see?”

You flush, “I never said you were bad to look at,” and he raises an eyebrow.

“Princess, I’m the best to look at,” and that draws a laugh from your lips, which he eagerly swallows, pressing his lips fervently to yours, looking to worship the mouth that just made that heavenly noise, “I haven’t been with anyone else,” he breathes, a centimeter from your lips, “since you,”

“Really?” And he tilts his head.

“Just for you, sweetheart,” and you don’t waste a moment.

You’re flipping him on his back, and he’s staring up at you — in shock and then in lust filled eyes, a thick haze that settles over your body, as you press your lips to his again, and he surges to meet them.

Your fingers are fumbling with his belt, and he’s trying to pull your dress down your legs. You part for a moment, standing to pull it off, before settling on his lap again, but his hands pull you to settle on his thigh instead.

He flexes his thigh, and you stifle your moan, your cunt squeezing around nothing, “come on, ride my thigh,” your wetness soaks through and he groans, “you’re certainly wet enough for it,”

“Fuck-“ and he flexes again and again, until you’re grinding against his thigh, and his cocky grin makes you want to slap him.

“Sweetheart, you’re soaking through,” and he grunts, helping you ride his thigh, the muscle and fabric rubbing against your clit, making you moan, “that’s it, c’mon cum on my thigh like a good slut,”

And that sends you over the edge, the squelch of your pussy on his leg growing only louder, as your juices run down his pant leg, “glad I could do that twice,” and he’s kissing your neck, “maybe we can make it a third,”

And you meet his lips in a lazy kiss, your lips sliding across his at first, until it grows more insistent, and you’re back fumbling with his belt, pulling it off, and undoing the button of his jeans.

“So needy,” he smirks, and he lifts his waist, to help you pull off his pants, “didn’t know you needed my dick that bad, Princess,” but the smugness leaves as you palm him through his boxers, a hiss leaving his mouth as you slip your hand inside, teasing the head with your fingers.

“What was that again? Who’s needy?” You grin — you love watching him fold for you like this, as blood rushes to his cheeks and cock, he’s nearly panting as you palm him, and it’s such a pretty cock — was there anything about him that wasn’t unfairly perfect? “Fuck, I forgot how big you were - gonna split me in half, aren’t you?” But you’re going much too slow for his taste, as your fingers tease him, smearing his pre-cum over his length, as you lick it from your fingers, “and you always taste so good,”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re toying with me,” he nearly growls, as you pull off his boxers, snapping the elastic against his skin as you do.

“But you’re my favorite toy,” and your fingers return around his dick, squeezing lightly, and that’s his final straw.

You don’t even realize your back is hitting the bed until you’re already pinned under him, and he’s smiling between your thighs now, “two can play at that game sweetheart,” and he kisses your inner thigh, “and I always win,”

And he’s pulling down your panties in a moment, letting a reverent fuck leave his lips as he stares at your swollen lips, “So pretty,” and he noses at your inner thighs, before his teeth dig into your sensitive skin, and your breath stutters, “and all for me,”

“Satoru-“ and his fingers are parting your folds, making your hips jump at his touch, and he can’t have that can he? And he’s pinning your hips, as he stares at your pretty swollen folds, “stop teasing-“

“Like you stopped teasing me, Princess?” He raises an eyebrow, but he slips a finger inside, “but I’ll be nice, unlike you,” and he’s pumping his finger knuckle deep, slipping into places you could never reach yourself, “fuck, you’re practically swallowing my finger,” and a second finger is stuffed inside you, “can’t wait to feel this pussy around my cock,” and you’re shaking when he finally leans down to press a kiss to your pretty clit.

“S-satoru,” you moan, a mess, as he fucks your walls hard with his fingers, the lewd squelching ringing in your ears, as he continued to pry apart your thighs, leaning down to press his lips to your clit again.

And you whimper, before moaning, as he sucks at it, lapping at your pussy, as he continued to fuck you, “so sweet when you’re all fucked out, keep making those pretty noises, sweetheart,”

And you have no choice when his tongue slips in the stead of his fingers, fingers choosing to play and pinch your clit, a symphony of moans and whines leaving your throat, as you move to cover your face.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he coos, kissing your pussy as he speaks, “you’re going to make me self-conscious and we wouldn’t want that, would we baby?” And his words are not helping as he redoubles his efforts, pausing only to speak, as his hands sneak under your thighs to press you impossibly closer to his mouth, intent on devouring you, “look at me - wanna see my pretty baby’s face when she falls apart for me,”

And you look, his face smeared with your cum, lips glossy and nearly dripping with it, as he grins, before feasting on you again, makes you fall apart as he wants, “cum in my mouth,” he murmurs, “wanna fucking live in his pussy,”

And you’re coming undone, fast and hard, but he doesn’t seem to care, slurping and sucking every drop you bestow upon him, “I know where I got my sweet tooth now,” and he’s still eating you through your orgasm, as you shudder and shiver from his touch.

“Fuck, ‘Toru, I swear to god-“

“I’m right here baby, you don’t have to swear your allegiance to me,” and he’s licking his fingers clean, making a show of it, “pretty sure you did that when you screamed my name when you came,”

“You fucker,” and he’s giving you lazy kisses again, trying to bring you down from your high, just to bring you back up again, and you’re palming his erection now, “need you,”

“What was that?” And he’s so smarmy, it makes you want to slap him or kiss him or possibly both, “say it again,”

And then you squeeze his dick, making him grunt, “I said I need you,” and you’re brushing the head of his cock against your folds, again and again, making him groan, “any questions sensei?” You add mockingly, but that only serves to make him grin wider.

“So fuckin’ eager for me to split you open with my dick huh, Princess?” His pre-cum dripping onto your fucked out pussy, “can’t go a second without being filled by me? I know sweetheart, I hit all the spots you can’t reach with your fingers right? Bet all those others can’t reach them either,” and he’s kissing you, hard, as he presses his cock into you, bumping against you, but never slipping in, “then I’ll just have to spoil you tonight, won’t I?” He notches himself against your slit, his traitorous mouth leaning down to suck at your tit before he finally eases into you.

And you forgot just how big he was, as he finally sinks into you, his cock parting your folds, impatient as ever as he sinks slowly at first and than all at once, “you can still take me, and you always take me so well,” he groans, as your walls squeeze him, nearly making him cum right there, “you were made for me, made to fuck me,” he’s panting now, as you’re ready to fall apart under him.

“Then fuck me,” and he does just that - no semblance of self-control left - not that he had much to begin with. Not when it came to you.

He loves hearing you moan his name, over and over, as he begins to thrust in earnest, hips slapping against yours, making you gasp and your head roll back, “Satoru, Satoru, fuck-“

“Come on baby you can take it, look at how good you’re taking me, such a good girl,” and he grasps your chin making you look at where your bodies met, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease, a white ring of your cum around its base, “that’s it, c’mon, you make me feel so fucking good,”

And then he’s slipping out of you, as you whines but now he’s pulled you into his lap, “baby, I can’t be doing all the work, now can I?”

His thighs are sticky and wet with your fluids, as you start to ride him, your thighs meeting his with rough snaps, “So fucking gorgeous,” he groans, leaning in to suck at your tits again, “I’ll never get sick of this view, need to fuck you like this again,” and he meets you with a brutal thrust of his hips as he grasps your waist that brushes against places you only could dream to touch, and he grins as your head lolls back, “there is it, just where I left it, Princess,”

“S’close, ‘Toru, I can’t-“ you murmur, as he cups your cheek and presses a hot kiss to your lips.

“Then cum for me on my dick like a good little slut, and scream for me, make sure my neighbors know how good this cock is,” and he’s grasping your waist, fucking tou hard as you cum around his cock, and you scream his name as you do, but he fucks you through your orgasm, grunting and groaning. Your release slips down his dick as you squeeze him, “good fucking girl,” He’s close too - his thrusts becoming deeper and sloppy, “where you want me to cum?”

And your legs are wrapping around his waist, “Fill me, want it inside,” and Satoru can't help but moans your name.

He's grunting, sloppily thrusting now -- he's so close, your walls clamping down again and again, “Want me to breed you, sweetheart,” he grunts, bottoming out, “then let me fill you, fuck-“ he moans as he cums, spurting his hot, thick cum inside your walls, and you’re nearly keening against him, but he holds you steady with his fingers against your hips, nails digging crescents into your skin, “gotta make every drop count, now don’t we, love?” As he slowly pumps into you, pushing it deeper, “now what’d people say when you get pregnant by your ex? Hm? Wanna baby trap me, princess? You don’t have to do that to get me to stay,”

And he’s still inside you as he stills, cupping your chin, “I don’t huh?” You tilt your head, as he presses a kiss to your lips, “then why did you leave in the first place?”

His grin twists into a frown, sighing, as he can't meet your gaze now, “Did you really want to be with me?” And you open your mouth, “being with me is as good as placing a target on your back, and I’m not always going to here to help-“

You glare at him, “I don’t need you to protect me—"

“Except the one time you do,” he says softly, “and then what? I could deal with losing you, but I don't ever want to have to mourn you," his words are quiet, "we’ve both lost too much-" and his voice wavers, “I didn’t want you to be another thing I lost, but you were anyway,” and he gives a small chuckle, “I didn’t wanna end up alone, but without you, I’m still alone,” he gives a pitiful smile, “fitting for the strongest, huh?”

You hold his cheeks, forcing him to look at you, “You don’t have to be alone. I can’t make promises that I’ll be okay - that would be a pretty shit promise to make, we both know that, but,” you kiss his lips sweetly, the corners of his lips lifting at your taste, “I can promise I’ll do my best to live, I’ll do my best to support you, I’ll do my best to love you - if you can promise to do the same,”

And his lips crack into a grin, “Love, huh?”

“You’ve grown on me,” you tease, but he can’t let that stand. And he shifts his hips, making you moan, as he lays you down, slipping out of you, to smear his cockhead down your folds, watching you convulse around nothing as his cum slips out of you, “Satoru—fuck-“ and his fingers are scooping the liquid back inside, pushing it back in, “what are you doing?” you grumble, half annoyed, half moaning.

And he only smiles, “Gotta make up for lost time, don’t we princess?” And he leans over you, pressing a kiss to your lips, before reaching for his phone, “now let me take a picture — gotta let Nanami know someone appreciated my drawing.”

“You send that picture, and we won’t need to worry about me surviving anymore, because I’ll have killed you,” and he rolls his eyes, snapping the picture anyway.

“Don’t worry, I won’t send him this picture, that’s for my personal use,” he winks as he slips his fingers from you, licking your mixed releases from his digits, “but I’ll let him know how much you enjoyed it,” and he’s leaning over you again, “and how much you will again,”

“And every night?” You smile up at him, pulling him closer.

And he replies before you pull him into another kiss, “Only way to shut me up.”

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo fanfiction #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfiction #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo fluff

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malfoyswand · 1 year

Text

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

summary: draco malfoy pays you a visit in the infirmary after the battle of hogwarts, leading to healing for the both of you.

word count: 1.5k

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings: none, besides mention of the cruciatus curse being used

➪ masterlist

You were woken up from your slumber by the feeling of a cold ice pack being pressed upon your head. Sighing softly in relief, you were thankful for the care Madam Pomfrey had provided you these last few hours.

To be honest, you weren’t entirely sure what led you here. You could remember preparing for the battle against Voldemort and fighting off a few Death Eaters. Then, the world went black.

Madam Pomfrey had been kind enough to fill you in. According to several students, one of the Death Eaters had used the Cruciatus curse on you. You fell to the ground and hit your head, causing a concussion along the way. The Death Eater had assumed you were dead after using the curse so many times, and left you lying there.

But still, you don’t remember anything at all. Then again, you were not thinking about fighting off the Death Eaters at the time. Your mind was on something, someone, entirely different.

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey.” Your voice harshly spoke out as you winced slightly before opening your eyes. However, it wasn’t Madam Pomfrey holding the ice pack against your head.

It was none other than Draco Malfoy.

Only then did you realize the looks both of you, rather him, were getting. Your ears could hear the whispers of classmates besides you, asking each other how Malfoy had the nerve to step into Hogwarts after all his family had done.

“Are you real?” That was all you could manage to say, oh, how idiotic that must have sounded. But truthfully, you thought this was a dream.

You hadn’t truly gotten the opportunity to look at him up close for nearly a year, until now. His skin was much paler than before and his hair seemed to shine brightly in the setting sunlight. He looked like an angel who was here to pick you up and carry you away.

The sound of his laughter drew you from your thoughts. “Even in the aftermath of a war, you still manage to find a joke. That’s talent, (Y/L/N).”

You wasted no time in sitting up, wrapping your arms tightly around the Slytherin man before you. You weren’t sure if it was more for you or for him.

“Draco Malfoy! I told you, keep her laying down, or else you’ll be kicked out of here, understand?” Madam Pomfrey wasn’t exactly too pleased with the Malfoy family, or any of the Death Eaters for that matter. In her view, they were the direct cause for every bed in the infirmary to be full.

“Yes, Madam. My apologies.” Draco spoke softly, as if he was afraid to upset her. He helped you lay back down before sitting on the edge of the bed, keeping the ice pack pressed against your forehead.

“I know I must be the last person you may want to see right now. But I have a reason I’m here, I swear it.” He continued to speak, his eyes scanning nervously over your face.

You wouldn’t go that far, but you were confused to see him. You hadn’t spoken to him in almost a year, since the two of you had broken up during the sixth year. You knew he was a Death Eater, and you tried to love him through it. It was only a matter of time before Draco was ordered to eliminate all distractions, including you.

It had been painful. You knew Draco Malfoy was not the villain of this story, but so many had painted him to be so. He never wanted to try to kill Dumbledore, or to destroy Hogwarts. The school was his home, a place of comfort where he could escape from his family. Unfortunately for the both of you, he had allowed the opinions of others to cause a division in your relationship.

He breathed a sigh of relief once he realized you weren’t going to force him out of the infirmary. “I tried to look for you during the battle, (Y/N). Once we..” He winced slightly at the notion of referring to himself as part of Voldemort’s army. “..were inside the castle, I was looking for you in every room he forced us into. My father became aware of what I was doing, he wouldn’t let me out of his sight to look for you on my own.”

“I should have done more to get free of his grasp, I could have prevented you getting hurt.” His eyes were full of despair and self-hatred as he looked at your head, along with the various bruises along your body. “I was praying to some higher power that I would find you first, not another Death Eater. Merlin, I wish I did. I never-”

He was interrupted by the sound of your own voice. “Draco, please, stop. None of what happened is your fault, okay?”

What he confessed left you speechless, you didn’t quite know what to say. You didn’t think his focus would be on finding you, his ex-girlfriend, during the battle. If anything, his focus should have been on surviving. Why would he even bother searching for you, what would have happened if he did find you?

“But it is!” His voice raised slightly, causing every other patient to turn their heads towards you two. After everyone went back to their conversations, he continued in a softer tone. “It is, don’t you understand? I should have followed my gut and never become a Death Eater. Bloody hell, I should have left my family behind while I’m at it. I would have saved this entire school a lot of pain.”

There was a bit of truth in his statement. In an ideal world, he should have never given into the pressures of his family. But the real world was much more complicated. Deep down, Draco lived to please his parents. He wanted to make them proud of him more than anything, the Malfoy family name survived only on his broad shoulders.

At least, the old Draco cared about the opinions of his parents. You weren’t sure about the one sitting in front of you. This one seemed much more restless and daring.

The old Draco never would have expressed his feelings and regrets in such a carefree manner, even to those he trusted. He never would have shown up in a place that held much of those regrets, just for a girl he used to date. Nevertheless, he never would have shown up with his platinum blond hair a mess with bags under his eyes.

“Draco, calm down.” You reached out slowly to place your hand on top of his, your thumb slowly caressing his hand. The movement was a familiar one, it was as if your body simply knew what to do when Draco was upset. Although, it used to be him comforting you.

A soft smile appeared on his face, his fingers interlocking with yours. His eyes went back up to yours, it was as if he was searching for an answer inside your eyes. You squeezed his hand, telling him in a nonverbal way that everything was going to be fine.

“This is pathetic. I should be the one comforting you, as you’re the one in a hospital bed.” He spoke, earning him a soft laugh escaping your lips. It was quite ironic, in all fairness. However, seeing Draco processing his feelings openly was a comforting thought.

“You are comforting me, you know. I was surprised that you came back to see me, after everything.” The silence was heavy for a moment. That ‘everything’ held every moment that happened between the two of you. It held every conversation, every stolen glance, everything both of you were too afraid to say to the other.

He sighed softly, tilting his head to the side. “Even after all this time, you’re still surprised when I do something nice for you. Don’t you understand that I love you?”

His confession made you feel as if your breath was caught in between your throat. If you were honest with yourself, your feelings for Draco Malfoy didn’t stop the moment he left you after becoming a Death Eater. It had continued, as if your love for him was a ghost that wouldn’t leave you alone. It lingered in every room, its presence never faded.

In fact, the one thing you do remember during the battle is searching for him too. While you defended yourself, your mind was only focused on whether he was somewhere in the castle. You wondered how you could escape this situation and take him with you, safe from here.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spring that on you, especially right now.” You could faintly hear him cursing himself, you realized you hadn’t even responded to him.

“I love you too.”

That caught his attention. His eyes widened, a glimmer of hope returning to him. A slight smirk then appeared on his face, you could see the tension in his shoulders almost disappear into thin air.

“Those were four words I thought I would never hear from you again.” He spoke softly, bringing your hand to his lips for a moment. “Now, I want you to rest that pretty head of yours and get better. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Yes, sir.” You laughed softly before closing your eyes. You knew the two of you would have more difficulties to address another day, but for now, the simple joy of Draco sitting by your side gave you an overwhelming sense of peace.

#draco #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfic #draco fanfic #draco malfoy fic #draco fic #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine #draco lucius malfoy #draco fluff #draco malfoy fluff

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mandarinmoons · 29 days

Note

Hi! So what about BAU!Reader and Spencer are fresh into their relationship. Like weeks into it. Reader is just as shy and nerdy as Spencer was in early seasons. (This can be any season of Spencer) anyways it’s Spencer’s birthday and Spencer begs reader to not buy anything for him so instead she knits him a replica of Dr. Who scarf because she remembers him mentioning to Garcia he was trying to find the perfect replica for his Dr. Who cosplay (7x23 when Garcia and Spencer go to that convention) so reader, who never watched it before, watches the entire series while knitting the scarf bc she knows how much Spencer loves Dr. Who and she wanted to understand his interests more. Maybe she makes herself a matching scarf or hand warmers in the process. And then she’s like “I have a ton of questions about the series though” and pulls out a notebook of her questions as she’s asking them Spencer realizes she’s THE ONE and it’s all just fluff and two nerds in love 🥰

I've never consumed any content about Doctor Who so I'm sorry if this is a bit vague BUT the idea was so cute so I had to give it a shot x

You and Spencer were both nerds, it’s what drew you two together and keeps you both joined at the hip. Even though you two had been together for less than eight weeks, both of you had your eyes on one another for a good while. When mutual feelings were finally admitted the only thing different from before was that you got to hold hands and kiss each other on the cheek comfortably without having to worry if it’ll make the other person uncomfortable.

Spencer’s birthday was coming up and with Spencer being the way that he is, he was adamant about not letting you splurge on his big day. You were a bit annoyed by it because a part of you did want to go out and treat your special boy the way he deserved to be treated. However, you did not want to argue with him so you decided to get a bit creative.

Long before the relationship had been established, Spencer had talked about how he was searching for a replica of the Doctor Who scarf for his cosplay. Knitting was something you had learned before, although it had been quite a few years since you last picked it up, you decided to try it out again and hopefully make Spencer’s face gleam with joy.

After digging out your old knitting needles and yarn you looked up some tutorials online to familiarize yourself with your old hobbie. A few hours and some messy pathworks later, you managed to remind yourself of how everything went down and began work on the scarf. Luckily the pattern wasn’t difficult at all and as you began working away you thought about looking up the show and getting a feel for what Spencer talks about all the time.

After many weeks and countless trips to the store to get more yarn the scarf was finished and you were both excited and nervous to hand it over to Spencer. A million thoughts ran in your head as he undid the bow on the carefully packed present and removed the scarf from the paper, his eyes went wide and he was speechless for a whole minute.

“Y/N, how did you…”

“Surprise?” you chuckled and Spencer was still speechless, he ran his thumbs over the carefully knitted garment. He wrapped it over his neck and walked over to the mirror to have a closer look, his heart was melting over how you took so much time and effort to make him this. He walked over to you and placed his arms around you in a bone crushing hug which only made you laugh.

“I’m so glad you like it.”

“Like it? That doesn’t even come close to how I feel about it, I love it.”

Spencer held your cheeks as he kissed you and as you parted a thought came to your mind.

“Oh also, I watched a bit of the show!”

“Really? Did you like it?”

“Mhm, I have a few questions though, firstly…”

As you went on about your questions regarding the show Spencer stared at you while a smile crept on his face. He loved how you took interest in anything he was fascinated in, and in return he would do it with your interests as well, it was one of the ways you both showed love to one another.

Spencer guided you back to the couch, pulling you to his lap as he cleared his throat and explaining the questions you just layed out for him. You looked up at him and nodded along as he got into the topic and you were reminded of one of the reasons why you fell for him in the first place, his passion, and that same passion grew now that he had someone like you in his life.

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

My requests are open so feel free to send one in! (SFW only)

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 months

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For the love of god(dess) || CL16 {1}

A/N & Summary: Greek God/dess AU. This was a draft I had wasting away with reincarnation trope. Reader is the goddess of love. I don't even know what I am doing anymore lol Warnings: reader injury, blood WC: 2.2k Part One || Two

“Do you ever stop working?”

You leered across the scrying bowl to the unwelcome guest waltzing into your sanctum. “Unlike some, my work never ends.”

“Come now, I remember a time when you used to love my little soirées,” Dionysus whispered in your ear as he dipped his finger in the bowl, disturbing the still waters. The god of debauchery had never held just a little party, there was a reason hedonism and excess had been celebrated for millennia. “Take one night off. It will be one to remember.”

“Liar,” you said with a smile despite yourself. “I still don’t have any memory of the last one.”

He winked and flicked the droplet of water from his finger at you playfully, “Then I am doing my job right. It’s on earth…”

Damn, the god knew how to pique your interest. Thousands of years watching through the haze of the scrying bowl did little to capture their humanity. Whenever you could, you used to walk among them to see the fruits of your labour.

“Love, you are eternal - yet you waste away in this…” he drifted off as he looked around the empty stone room, carvings depicting your greatest champions along the walls, “place.”

While the other gods had their golden palaces you were content in the temple that had once been filled with priestesses who served the deity you once were. A shell of who you used to be reflected back in the still water. What was the Goddess of Love with a broken heart? Cold and empty like this temple.

Your thoughts darkened and shadows crept along the walls before you took a deep breath. It had been a few decades since you had some fresh air, maybe it was for the best to get out. “Fine. One night.”

Dio grinned and swept an arm around your waist before leading you to the door. The sunlight hit your face and you cursed Apollo until your eyes adjusted to the brightness. The drunken god took one look at the white robe you wore, a silver sash tied at the waist, and tutted.

“I know beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but this won’t do.”

“Any other insults?” you dared as you cast a hand over yourself, the white cotton bleeding to a deep red leather skin that hugged your body and accentuated your assets. A black corset snapped at the contours of your waist and pressed your breasts up, the armour unnecessary but as familiar as breathing. The others may have forgotten the great war but your heart remembered the loss and you swore you would not leave yourself vulnerable again.

He let out a low whistle and shook his head.

“Oh, one more thing.” Your bow and quiver snapped into place across your back and drew a groan from Dio. “What?” Your eyes darted to the chalice that was forever held in his left hand. “You have your attachments, I have mine.”

He held his cupped hand up, wine sloshing over the rim, and pointed a finger at you. “Firstly, this is a curse - not a choice. And secondly, this is useful to drink out of.”

“Maybe you should have been more careful where you stuck your dick.”

“I didn’t know the nymph was one of Zeus’ favourites, obviously,” Dio grumbled before setting off down the path that would lead to the mortal realm.

–

Las Vegas, Mortal Realm, 2023 PIW (Post-Immortal-Wars)

You already knew the party would be a large one, but this was big even by Dionysus’ standards. Thousands of people imbibed in the free flowing alcohol and danced under strobe lights in Sin City, his favourite playground. Dio sent a mischievous wink before he touched the champagne tower and his power imbued with the liquor to increase the effect and ensure everyone was on the same level as him.

“Drink, Love,” he ordered as he tipped the rim of his glass to your lips. Sweet wine warmed your throat as much as his power did and you drank it down knowing that for at least a few minutes your cares would be diminished - but they always came back too soon. “Now dance.”

Your hips swayed and your hands found themselves moving above your head as the lights mesmerised you. Human scents came and went as they moved around you, their pheromones calling to your power as they found lovers, if only for the night. One particular scent caught your attention and you followed it to find Dio talking to the human. He had been god touched and the mark glowed on his brow - not that the mortals could see it.

“Love, this is the man of the hour,” Dio gushed, casting a hand to the party as if it were all for him. “Max here won the race.”

You didn’t know what race he was referring to, nor did you care. “Of course he did,” you stated dryly. Max was Nike’s champion and Nike was the Goddess of Victory in everything except what mattered. “Congratulations.”

You grabbed Dio’s hand and drank your fill from his cursed chalice in the hopes it would douse the fire that ignited in your veins. If Nike had fought alongside you in the war instead of wasting her time with her Olympians and their silly sports then maybe Károlos would have survived. Maybe you would do more than just survive eternity alone.

“Sorry, she doesn’t get out much,” Dio joked, clapping the victor on the arm. “Drink, my friend. The night is young and life is short.”

You slipped away into the sea of bodies, drifting through until a cool breeze called from the balcony and you escaped to the quiet. Your breath exhaled with a heaviness only an immortal could carry and a chuckle startled you.

“Fuck, not another one. Can’t I have one moment of peace?” you groaned as his scent found you before the handsome man stepped out of the shadows of the corner he had been hiding in.

“Sorry,” he apologised. “This was my hiding place first.”

The mark of the Adonis glowed beneath the dark hair that fell over his forehead and you internally scoffed at the god’s vanity. The man standing before you would have been stuck down if he showed his face in Olympus, he was far too good looking it would be considered an offence to the petty gods. And those eyes, green eyes just like...You had to look away before you could finish that thought.

“What do you have to hide from?” you asked, leaning against the rail as you watched fireworks explode among the stars. “You’re a champion.”

“You must have me confused with someone else,” he laughed bitterly.

“I know a champion when I see one.” You felt Dionysus breeze onto the balcony before you heard his drunken laugh behind you, the bitter smell of blackthorn root on his breath from the drug he had smoked.

“Love, eternal Love, I found you,” he slurred as hugged your back, the feathered fletches from the quiver of arrows irritating him. “Must you wear these prickly things?”

Before you could stop him, he ripped an arrow out, the sharpened point catching the side of your neck. A hiss of pain escaped your lips as blood trickled down your throat and the power that kept the weapons hidden from mortal sight broke with the bead of blood on the tip.

Adonis’ champion gasped as his mind raced to piece together what he was seeing. A woman bleeding and a man holding the weapon. His eyes narrowed and he leapt at Dio, trying to wretch the bloodied arrow from him before he could attack you again. You could have laughed at how futile the attempt was for a mortal to attack a god but said god was higher than Zeus’ perch in his palace and rotten drunk off his wine.

The fates must have been laughing their asses off as the mortal and god collided, both tumbling to the floor before the mortal screamed in pain.

A hand reached into your chest, at least that was how it felt when the fire exploded inside you. “No, no, no, no,” you cried as Dio fell away from the mortal and you saw the arrow buried in the champion's chest. “What have you done?”

The fire faded as the bond snapped into place and you hated how you suddenly feared for the mortal. That fear had you rushing to his side and falling to your knees as Dio stared at his hands. “I, I didn’t mean to,” he stammered.

Even the mortals knew the power those arrows held, the stories were told throughout the ages of how just a nick from one could make strangers, enemies even, fall for each other in an instant. The greatest weapon of all was love and it had the power to destroy even the immortals. And Dio had just stabbed the mortal with one, coated in your blood. Blood that bonded.

You gripped the shaft and tugged the arrow out of his chest before slamming your hand over the wound and pouring your energy into it, sealing it closed. He reached for your hand that was slick with his blood and you let him hold it, unable to fight the love that came from your own power.

“You’ll be okay,” you promised him before narrowing your eyes at Dio. “You, not so much.”

“It was an accident, I swear, it was like I couldn’t control myself. Charles just jumped-”

Your eyes flared silver as you looked back at the unearthly green shade of his eyes. Same eyes, same name, Adonis’ champion. You had foolishly thought Adonis had chosen the mortal for his beauty, but if the mortal was reincarnated then he would also bear the mark on his brow.

“Károlos,” you whispered as a feeling of rightness settled across the universe.

Charles frowned at the name but understood the tenderness in the tone, such a sweet sound. His chest no longer burned and smooth skin met his palm as he felt for the wound that had healed, but the blood on his shirt was proof he had not imagined it all.

“Who are you?” he asked as he rose to his feet, tasting his blood on his tongue.

You flinched at the question and looked to the stars. “I go by many names, but you may call me Y/N.”

“You called me Károlos.”

“That was your name the first time you walked the earth,” Adonis said, appearing on the balcony in a flash of light. “Károlos, Karlaz, Carl, Charles - it’s always the same. A hundred lifetimes lived, always searching, always waiting. All for this moment.”

When Károlos had been killed you had stormed to the Underworld ready to bargain with Hades, but he had said Károlos wasn’t in the Elysian Fields. You hadn’t believed him in your anger. All this time, Adonis had kept his soul safe.

You reached behind to your quiver and drew an arrow, grabbing your bow and notching it. “You had two thousand years to tell me he was alive.”

Adonis held his hands up, shifting closer to Dio ready to sacrifice him as a shield. “You think the fates would let me tell you! I did what I could but you were happy to grovel alone in your temple.”

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Charles asked, wondering why no one had come to see what was going on, except when he looked at the party everyone was frozen like the time had come to a stop.

“I was grieving! And now I will have to mourn him anew, because he’s fucking mortal!”

Adonis grinned and you debated releasing the arrow. “Are you sure about that? Is that not your blood that runs in his veins now? I can smell it on him.”

You paused. Your blood had been on the arrow, immortal blood. You and Charles had gravitated to each other without realising it and you inhaled as you leaned a little closer. There was still a hint of that fresh mortal scent but it was an undercurrent to the aether that grew stronger with each breath.

“What the fuck is going on?” Charles snapped as you dissected him with your eyes like an experiment. “And why is no one else moving?”

You unnotched the arrow and waved the feathered end at Adonis. “We are going to have words about this later.” The beautiful god nodded before disappearing in a flash of light.

“So I'm forgiven, right?” Dio asked with a shy smile. “Told you it would be one to remember.”

You held a hand up to silence him and looked at Charles. “I don’t know how to answer your questions without making more. It might be easier if I show you.”

He accepted your hand without hesitation and you wondered how much of that was the force of the bond or because on some unconscious level his soul recognised yours. Either way, you smiled at the warmth between your skin before leaving the mortal realm behind.

“Where are we going?” he asked as the stars faded with the lights of Sin City.

“Home.”

–

For Reference: Dionysus - God of Wine and Pleasure Nike - Goddess of Victory Adonis - God of Beauty, Desire and Rebirth Károlos - (Old derivative for Charles) A warrior who was fated to be your soulmate before being killed protecting you in the Immortal Wars. Reincarnated as Charles Leclerc by Adonis. Olympus - Immortal Realm

Click here for part two.

#greek god au #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine

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11vr1 · 10 months

Text

Still Yours ⭒ Miles Morales

Part one: Been Away

Synopsis › You’re still his. You just need a little reminder.

Pairing › Earth-42! Miles Morales x Reader

Inspo › “Still Yours (feat. Big Sean)” - Bryson Tiller, Big Sean

Includes › ATSV SPOILERS, angst, fluff, swearing, Spanish, toxicity, going back to your ex, man has a staring problem, stalking, mentions of violence, manhandling i think?, kissing, terrible grammar, maybe some continuity errors (don’t think about it too hard)

P.S. › I had to write this part on my phone because my house has no wi-fi. Forgive me.

You were a vision as your head threw back in laughter at something your friend said. Absolute perfection in the way your uniform fits in all the right places and the gentle swoop of your edges framing your glowing skin in the harsh fluorescent lighting. It was aggravating. “When did she get that?” Miles’ rich eyes narrowed at you and your group of friends.

His best friend looked up from his phone in your direction. He didn’t need to ask who she was. “Get what?” he sighed, already sensing where this conversation was headed.

“Her lipgloss.” He tilted his head. “It’s Fenty.”

Ganke couldn’t remember when Miles became a makeup enthusiast, but he knew he was a Y/n expert. “And how do you know that?” he asked in disbelief. Their lunch periods had turned into a sort of Y/n watching session since your mysterious separation. He was over it and tired of watching his friend not-so-subtly stare at his not-ex-girlfriend. It was sad and getting a little creepy.

“It’s her favorite brand, but the shade’s darker. She’s never worn it before.” Miles’ food was left untouched, too preoccupied with the sight of you. You must’ve been doing this on purpose, he thought. Sitting directly in his eye line with your annoying ass group of friends. And Drew Harris, Brooklyn Vision’s resident dickhead jock, sat a little too close to you.

Ganke shrugged, turning back to his game. “I don’t know, man. It looks like the one she always wears.”

Miles tore his gaze away to face Ganke. His eyes hardened to an icy glare. “Why do you know what color she usually wears?”

“Chill, dude,” he rolled his eyes. “This break up is actually making you go insane.”

“We didn’t break up,” he snapped, but who was he fooling? Ganke was spot on. Miles was increasingly on edge, waiting. He’d texted and called multiple times since last weekend when finally spoke to you for the first time in weeks. But you didn’t respond or pick up. At this rate you were going to block him…again. Just when he thought everything was piecing itself back together, you slipped away out of his reach.

Ganke stood up with his trash. He had better things to do than watch his best friend run himself to the ground over a girl who obviously wanted nothing to do with him. “Broken up or taking a break, either way you’re miserable. You need to figure your shit out or move on before you burn a hole in the side of her head.”

Miles waved him off, not showing his words struck a chord. Moving on wasn’t an option. You were on his mind twenty four hours a day, seven days a week without fail. The thought of you waiting for him safe and sound kept him alive while he committed every crime in the book. Everything he did was for you, to keep you protected in this twisted city. Nothing was going to ruin his forever, not even you.

⋆

“Why not Drew?” Ellie suddenly asked while they walked the halls away from the cafeteria. You could tell she was enjoying having you back with their friends. “He’s all over you. You guys would be perfect,” she gushed, practically skipping across the tile.

You gave her a stern look, “Ellie.” You hated to burst her bubble, but she was too eager for you to be single. “I’m not interested in Drew Harris.”

“Okay, picky,” she hummed in thought for a moment. “Erik Falls? He’s on the basketball team and I heard he thinks you’re gorgeous,” she tried again. You stopped at Ellie’s locker. You weren’t going to ask where she heard such a rumor or why it seemed she had a mental list of the single male population.

You shook your head. A new relationship was the last thing on your mind. Miles was it for you, the one who made your heart sing, the man who made you believe you could be loved like in the stories. No one could compare, especially not a couple of immature jocks who would eventually become mere blimps in the timeline of your life. If only there wasn't a plot twist. “Despite what you think, I am more than happy being single. A new man is not on my list of priorities.”

“If you say so. You’ve just been so down since…” Ellie’s wide eyes briefly glanced over your shoulder. “I thought you and Miles weren’t together anymore?” her voice lowered to a sharp whisper.

Your response stalled, caught off guard by the question. Did Ellie know you and Miles had spoken? You didn’t want to imagine what kind of hell would be unleashed if she found out. “Of course not,” you forced a laugh. “Why?”

“Don’t look, but he’s at your locker!” she scowled, tossing her books back into her locker. “Don’t worry, girl. I got this.” Ellie pulled the earrings from her lobes along with her stack of bracelets, mumbling something about the “little creep.” She never hid her distaste for Miles, the two bumping heads more than once the duration of your relationship.

Against your better judgment, you looked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. Miles Morales leaned against your locker like he owned it. With his shirt untucked and tie loosened, he never failed to make the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

You stopped her before she stalked off in a fury. “Hold on, let me talk to him. I’m sure it’s nothing.” You didn’t even sound convincing to yourself.

Ellie drummed her fingers, lips pursed as she looked between you and the boy over your shoulder, skepticism written all over her face. “Fine, go ahead, Y/n. But I swear if he tries anything, I’m coming for his ass,” she pointed, making sure to shoot him a steely glower.

“I’ll be alright,” you assured her, already walking away.

You finally approached Miles, rolling your eyes at the enigmatic smirk on his lips. “You ignoring me, ma?” He asked, his gaze never leaving your face as you fiddled with the combination on your locker. “I thought we was good.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you, Miles. I just…” you struggled to explain without sounding like you were in fact avoiding him. Did he really think cornering you in an alley would fix everything? “I still needed a bit of space.”

He was clearly unsatisfied, but held his tongue. Instead he nodded his head. “Let’s take a walk, princesa.”

“I can’t,” you stuttered out, unable to trust yourself around Miles. Ignoring his messages took everything in you, so used to spending hours of your day spamming him with the most trivial things when you weren’t together.

“Yes you can. You have a free period.” Of course he had your schedule memorized. Nothing could get past Miles. He entwined your fingers in his, enveloping you with the rough calluses of his palms and dragging you through the halls without care for the curious stares directed your way.

The usual commotion of the city hit your ears as Miles swung open the rooftop door. Fond memories of your favorite meet up spot came flooding back, the late nights Miles would help you study for a Spanish test or when he simply wanted to sit in silence and bask in your presence. You’d fallen in love here over and over again, the stars and city skyline your only witness.

Miles had yet to release you from his hold, savoring your touch after being starved for so long.

He wasn’t going to let you go, not when you were finally where you belonged. “We need to talk.”

“We’re talking now, aren’t we?” No one wanted to hear those dreaded four words.

Your attempt at humor was not appreciated. His grip squeezed your hands in a gentle, but firm warning. “I’m done playin’ your little games, mami. This back and forth shit ain’t gon’ work. I need you to be straight with me.”

The impending weight of the conversation began to settle on your shoulders. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Miles. That I’m totally fine with you being the Prowler and everything can go back to normal?” You avoided his gaze, choosing the cerulean sky knowing his gaze could pull whatever he wanted from you if you dared to stare too long. “You lied to me for the better part of our relationship. Where you go, what you’re doing, who you are and if you’re okay, like really okay. I can’t trust you!”

Too much had been broken for you to go back. And you tried! Lord knows you fucking tried. You hid your tears when Miles missed a date, coming up with some lame excuse. Or the days he’d return and couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. Your mind turned to the worst. Doubt festered where trust should have been. But you held on just as fast as Miles held onto you now.

Now you know the reality and it scared you more than any possibility you came up with.

Miles listened to the cracks in your pretty voice, seeing the damage he caused. He never hated himself more. Ripping out throats and cracking skulls he could stand, but the sight of those crystal tears nearly broke him. “Mi corazón...” A large pad tenderly wiped a droplet from the smoothness of your cheeks. “Lo siento.”

“Say what you have to say, Morales. You can’t keep wasting my time.” You forced yourselves apart to furiously rid the traitorous tears. He didn’t deserve them.

“‘A waste of time?’” he repeated incredulously. Miles grabbed your left wrist, tugging down the sleeves of your navy blazer to reveal the golden bracelet you wore and its various charms. The cursive “M” dangled in your face, mocking you and your devotion to him. “Is that what this is?” He fished the delicate chain from beneath his own uniform where he wore your name closest to his heart. “Are you done with me? Was all this pointless to you, Y/n?” he nearly shouted, doing his best to keep what little composure he had left.

The answer had never been more simple. “No, of course not,” you said. “I don’t regret loving you. I just can’t keep loving half of you when you already have all of me.”

Shock filled the silence between you. “You love me?”

“Yes, dumbass!” You pushed against his chest. He didn’t budge, too stunned to breathe properly. “I know you won’t say it back but I don’t care. You should already know.”

Miles cradled your head and leaned down, your noses touching, sharing the same air. “Say it again,” he ghosted your lips.

Your knees weakened, his heat creating a haze of solely him in your mind. You studied the gentle contours of his face, the fullness of his lips, the healed scar on the edge of his right brow, someone only as close as you could see. An inch was all you needed to think, but you were snatched back. “Miles,” you gasped in surprise, steadying yourself in his arms. Through layers of fabric, you felt the rapid rhythm of Miles' heart and you were positive he could feel yours.

“Dilo de nuevo,” he commanded, pressing your body against his in a vice and yet you were still too far. “Por favor, para mi.”

“I love you,” you began, but Miles cut you off as he eradicated the damned space between you. Your mouth parted, the taste of spice and uniquely him familiar, like loving Miles was a reflex you’d always succumb to.

You relented to your need to breathe, still cradling Miles’ face in your hands. “Te amo también, mi corazón.” You never thought he would return the words and you’ve never been happier to be wrong. “Let me do it right this time. Be mine again. No more secrets, no more lies. Prometo.”

One chance was all Miles needed to gain access to your heart. You should have kept his number blocked, called the police like you threatened to do, but his determination was endless. He wanted you and here you were in his embrace saying, “I’ll always be yours, Miles.” You reached on your toes to steal another kiss, consuming as much of him as you desired. The pink of his tongue peeked out as he licked the sticky glitter from his lips. You moved to wipe the remaining gloss about to apologize before he took your mouth again, his teeth teasing the delicate skin.

“It is new.”

#iivri writes ˚·⊹ ⟢˖∿#Spotify #marvel #spider man: across the spider verse #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #prowler miles #earth 42 miles morales x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman fluff #spiderman #fanfic #angst #fluff

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roosterforme · 10 months

Text

The Wingman | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: Bob never did this sort of thing. Talking to girls and flirting and romance. It's not that he didn't want to, he just didn't really know how. But you were different in all the right ways, and you made him feel confident enough to try.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader

Check my masterlist for more!

"I need your help," Jake said, forcefully removing the cup of peanuts from Bob's hand. "Right now. Come on."

"With what?" Bob asked quietly as Jake hauled him to his feet and started pushing him away from the pool table and toward the bar. Bob wiped peanut shells from his uniform as he went, perplexed about what was going on.

"See those two girls?" Jake asked, pointing to the end of the bar. "Kinda cute, right?"

Bob's jaw dropped open. Kinda cute didn't quite cover it. Gorgeous was more like it. He swallowed the last peanut he was chewing on and murmured, "Yeah. Very cute."

"Great. The one on the right has a perfect looking rack, and she seems kind of mean. She's for me. You can have the one on the left. She's sweet. Not my type," Jake said as they drew closer.

Bob was practically stumbling along now. "But why do you need me?"

"You're going to be my wingman."

"But.... we aren't flying?" Bob asked, so perplexed.

Jake sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Focus, Floyd. It means you can hang out with the friend for a bit so I can get laid. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Bob muttered, and then he was being thrust up right next to where you were standing. He had to catch the wall so he didn't slam into you, and then you looked up at him slowly as you released your straw from your lips and smiled.

"Hi." Your voice was breathy and soft, the perfect juxtaposition to the noisy bar. And you looked even more beautiful up close, something Bob would have thought impossible. "Are you Jake's friend?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied, swallowing hard as your bright smile took his breath away. "I'm Bob," he managed to say without sounding like a complete idiot.

And then you gave him your name, and something told him he was going to remember it for the rest of his life. "It's nice to meet you, Bobby."

He nodded, heart thudding. "Nice to meet you, too."

You called him Bobby, and he liked the way it sounded on your lips. But nothing compared to what you said next.

"I noticed you before," you said, looking down at your drink, suddenly shy. "Last weekend when we were here. And the weekend before that. I can't believe you're talking to me."

You had noticed him before? Bob couldn't formulate real words. You were surprised he was talking to you? But you were so far out of his league, it was ridiculous! He just watched your straw brushing against your lips as your gaze slowly moved up his chest and neck until your eyes met his again. You were just so pretty.

You cleared your throat and pressed your lips together. "Of course, if you don't feel like talking to me, you don't have to." And you quickly turned to face the bar, taking a few steps away from him. That's when Bob realized he'd been staring at you instead of talking to you at all.

"No, no, I do want to talk to you," he said, wondering if it was okay to touch you and decided to go for it as he reached out to let his fingers brush your arm. He said your name and you turned to look at him again, but you didn't come any closer. "Sorry, I-I just got distracted by how pretty you are."

You laughed, and that smile was back now. "You know, that usually sounds like a line when a guy says it, but for some reason I believe you, Bobby. I even told my friend Alli that you looked handsome and sweet at the same time." You gestured toward your friend who had her lips glued to Jake's, but Bob barely glanced in their direction.

"Nobody really calls me Bobby, but I like it when you do."

When you closed the distance between your bodies and ran your fingers along his collection of insignia pins, Bob let his left hand rest lightly on your waist, and you didn't stop him. He couldn't believe you were letting him touch you.

"What do you do in the navy?" you asked, meeting his eyes before examining his pins a little closer.

"I'm an aviator," he replied.

"You fly a jet?" you asked, eyes wide now. And this was what Bob hated more than anything; having to explain to someone that he was just a backseater.

"No, I'm a weapons systems officer, actually."

"Oh! So you're in charge of a pilot! Do you fly with Jake?"

Bob smiled at your simple and yet surprisingly accurate description of what a WSO did. "No, I fly with her," he replied, pointing across the bar where Phoenix was gaping at him with a pool cue in her hand.

You turned to look before turning back to him and saying, "That's so fascinating, Bobby."

"What do you do?" he asked, wrapping his hand a little further around your back and nearly gasping as he felt the swell of your butt. He let go of you like he'd been burned, but you reached for his hand and placed it right where it had been.

"I'm a kindergarten teacher."

Bob's mouth went dry. Phoenix told him all the time that he was destined to marry a sweet, pretty kindergarten teacher and have six kids and a golden retriever.

"Do you like kids, Bobby?" you asked, your fingers back on his pins.

"Yeah... six of them," he murmured.

"Hmm?"

"Oh. Nothing," he told you. "Yes, I like kids. Sometimes I volunteer to read at the library when they need military personnel for story time. Hey, how do you feel about golden retrievers?

"Your lips parted slightly as you looked at him, and Bob could feel his cheeks flushing with color as you leaned up. The way your eyes fluttered closed should have been enough warning for him, but nobody had ever done this to him before in the middle of the Hard Deck. In fact, he could count on one hand the number of girls he had ever kissed at all, anywhere.

But the soft touch of your lips to his was enough to have his right hand wrapping around you as well. And then everything felt perfect as he touched you while you kissed him.

The kiss didn't last long, but you kept your body pressed right up to his while you assured him that golden retrievers were your very favorite type of dog. Then you told Bob about your classroom and your school and the kids in your class. You told him how much you liked when they played movies in the park by your apartment. You told him that you always went with some of your friends to the food truck festivals. And you told him how much you liked his glasses.

"You really like them?" Nobody liked his glasses. Women frequently asked him if he ever wore contacts. He supposed that would make him a bit better looking, but he hated poking at his eyes when he needed to use them for work.

"Like is an understatement," you assured him with a smile. "You're so cute. Can I kiss you again?"

Bob nodded helplessly, already kind of pathetically in need of your attention. This kiss was a little more forceful, and Bob could feel your tongue touching his.

And then Alli threw her drink on Jake, and you gasped, backing out of Bob's arms. "Maybe I should go check on her," you said as your friend stormed toward the exit. But you didn't move.

"Well, Bob, your wingman duty is no longer needed," Jake drawled, wiping what appeared to be rum and coke from his face before he wandered away.

You groaned and tipped your head back before you met Bob's eyes. "Jake made you come over and talk to me, didn't he?"

You looked completely distraught, and Bob thought he might die if you left right now. He didn't even have your number, and he hadn't asked you out on a date yet. "Don't go," he begged, reaching for you as you set your empty glass on the bar. "Please. It took literally no persuading on Jake's part to get me to come over here. And you're so pretty, I would have been too scared to ever come over on my own."

You looked at him for a beat. "You seem sincere. Are you being sincere?"

"Of course," he swore, panicking inside. "I don't want you to leave. I'm hoping you'll give me your number and let me take you out tomorrow."

To Bob's relief, you pulled him over to the one empty bar stool and pushed him down to sit. Then you were on his lap, perched on his thigh, and he was handing you his phone. You saved your name and phone number and texted yourself so you could have his number too. "Where are you taking me tomorrow, Bobby?" you asked him.

"Anywhere you want," he promised. And you ran your fingers through his hair, teasing them along the back of his neck as you kissed him again. He wrapped his hand around your waist and pulled you a little closer. Then he felt you reach for his other hand, guiding it to your bare knees where his fingers skimmed the hem of your dress.

You were good at this. You knew what you were doing. But Bob wasn't good at romance, and he didn't have a lot of experience. But he knew he was already addicted to your kisses. And he should have understood what you meant as soon as you said it, but he really didn't.

"You could take me out for breakfast," you whispered as you kissed your way along his jaw and tasted his neck.

"Okay," he muttered. "I'd love to pick you up tomorrow morning. For breakfast."

He was just thankful you didn't laugh at him when you pulled back. Instead you were biting your lip and toying with his pins again as you said, "Or you could stay over. And then you wouldn't have to come pick me up. Because you'd already be there."

Bob knew he was hard in his khaki uniform pants, and the way your thigh was nudging him wasn't helping him process the fact that you just invited him to spend the night with you. He didn't know if he could do this. He'd never done this sort of thing before.

You were looking at him expectantly and a little apprehensively. He kissed you softly. "I don't usually go home with girls from the bar. I actually don't even usually talk to girls when I'm here. Or...anywhere, really." His face was flushed, collar too tight. He was uncomfortable now as you appraised him with your wide eyes.

"How is that possible? You're so smooth." Now Bob was the one with big eyes as you added, "I've never taken a guy home from the bar before, but you make me feel comfortable. And I think you're sweet. And I'm pretty sure we're going to date."

Bob nodded, so sure of it. "Yeah, we're going to date. And get a golden retriever."

Your smile right before you kissed the tip of his nose made him squeeze you tighter. "Then let's go," you whispered, wiggling out of his arms to stand up. Bob had to try to discreetly adjust himself as you dug into your purse, but he managed to get his wallet out in time to pay for your drink before you could. "Thanks, Bobby," you muttered, taking his hand in yours.

Bob watched the identical looks of shock on Jake's and Nat's faces as you looked up at him and lured him toward the door. He was going back to your place. He was going to take you out for breakfast. He was so excited. And so nervous.

As he helped you climb in his pick-up truck, you leaned down and kissed him softly, and he just knew you would never make fun of him for anything. Bob closed the door and walked around the truck, checking his phone which had been vibrating nonstop.

Hangman: I told you she was sweet.

Nat Trace: OMG BOB, have a great night! Text me tomorrow!

He climbed into the truck only to find that you had buckled yourself into the center of the bench seat right next to him. "Hi," you said with a laugh, and then you let your palm come to rest on his thigh as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Where do you live?" he asked softly, and you gave him directions while you touched him so gently that Bob felt some of his nervousness receding. He parked in front of your building, and you led him inside.

The elevator ride was filled with sweet kisses as you draped your arms around his neck. Either you could tell that he was out of his element and were being extra nice about it, or this was how you always liked to do things. Either way, he really, really liked it. Even the swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip as the elevator arrived at your floor wasn't too much for him now. When he nibbled gently on your lip, you moaned softly, and he pushed you back against the wall.

"Let's go," you panted, pulling him toward your door. Bob kissed the side of your neck as you fiddled with your key, but once you had him inside, things started going a little too fast for him.

You closed and locked the door, and then your fingers were on the zipper of his uniform pants, and your tongue was in his mouth. Bob let you slip your hand inside the waistband of his underwear, and then your hand was stroking him, and he was seeing stars behind his eyelids. It felt so good. He'd been touched like this before, but it had been months, and it had been with someone he was dating.

He liked you a lot, and he didn't want you to stop. But suddenly, when your hand stroked back up his already throbbing cock, he pulled away from your kisses. "Can we go a little slower?" he asked between raspy breaths.

You nodded with uncertainty at him and gently slid your hand out of his underwear. "I'm sorry," you whispered. "Guys usually like that."

"I do!" he insisted. "It's....just...maybe we can kiss more first?"

"Okay," you agreed. "How about on the couch?"

"Sure," Bob whispered. You pulled him further into your living room, fingers linked with his. When he settled back onto the sofa, you sat on his thigh, just like you had done on the barstool.

"Is this better?" you asked, your lips brushing against his while you ran your fingers through his hair. Your cheek was nudging his glasses, and honestly, he was just as aroused as he had been when your hand was stroking him.

"Yeah," he managed, and your mouth and his met in the best kisses he had ever felt. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually you were straddling his hips, and his hands were wrapped around the backs of your bare thighs.

"That feels good, Bobby," you whined as he stroked his thumbs along your perfect, soft skin. Your lips found his neck, sucking and licking him, and he had to work hard to fight the urge to buck up against you. He could feel you occasionally rub yourself against the open zipper of his pants, and each time he was afraid he was going to finish before anything really began.

He didn't know what to do now. Was he supposed to ask you if you wanted to move to your bed? Was he supposed to tell you it was okay to touch him anywhere? Was he allowed to touch you anywhere?

When he eased his hands up along your butt only to determine that you weren't wearing any underwear at all, you kissed him hard. And then you slid from his lap so that you were kneeling on the floor between his spread thighs, and Bob watched you lick your lips. You reached for his pants and underwear and guided them down his legs while you smiled softly at him. When his hard cock was just inches from your lips, he got nervous again. But then your mouth was on him, and he had never in his whole life felt anything this amazing.

You kissed his tip before parting your lips and sliding your mouth around him. He grunted, hands fisted on his knees, veins bulging in his arms. You moaned softly as you wrapped one sure hand around the base of him, and he throbbed with need for you.

"You're really big," you whispered, pausing to kiss along his length, nudging him with your nose. He tipped his head back against the couch, praying that he wasn't going to embarrass himself after ten more seconds in your hand. When he felt your tongue lick his entire length from his balls back up to the tip, he snapped his head back to attention to watch you take the bead of his precum onto your tongue.

And then you smiled again as he gaped at you. "If you don't like it this way, that's okay. You can tell me what you like best," you whispered before turning your head slightly to kiss his left fist where it was balled up and shaking on his knee. "And you can touch me if you want to."

Bob swallowed hard and then immediately blurted out, "I've never had a blowjob before."

You stared up at him, brow creased in confusion, pretty lips pursed. He could feel his face flushing, he was probably bright red. You were still stroking your thumb along his penis as you cocked your head to one side.

"What do you mean? Never?" you asked softly.

He shook his head back and forth in short, jerky motions, and he was so embarrassed. He thought maybe he should just leave. He shouldn't have even come home with you. "Never."

Then your face relaxed a bit, and you kissed his tip one more time before climbing back onto his lap. Bob relaxed his fists and wrapped his arms around your waist as you sat with his hard cock at attention between the two of you. But you didn't look bothered by anything now as you asked, "How old are you, Bobby?"

He swallowed hard and met your eyes, "I'm almost thirty."

You nodded and kissed his nose. "Have you had sex before?" you asked softly, pressing your lips to his cheek.

"Yes," he replied, melting into the feel of your fingers and lips on him. "I've had two girlfriends."

"Okay," you told him, smiling before you kissed him. "So here's the deal, Bobby. I really like you. And I'd really like to give you a blowjob. If you want me to. And then I'd really like to take you to my bedroom, and I don't care if we just cuddle and talk, but I want you to stay with me all night. And then we can go out for breakfast. And then we can go out again after that if you think you like me as much as I like you."

This time Bob leaned forward to kiss you. "I'm nervous that I'm going to embarrass myself."

You laughed softly. "How do you think you're going to embarrass yourself?"

He let his gaze wander all over your face before he looked down at the couch cushion next to his thigh. "You know... I'm not going to last more than a minute."

Your soft sigh as you ran your fingers along his penis had his gaze snapping back to yours. "Oh, Bobby. I don't care about that." Then you bit your lip for a beat before you added, "It's kind of flattering, getting to do this for you. If you want me to. And if you cum really fast...well, we can try it again later. But that would be flattering, too."

He nodded his head, and you leaned in to kiss his cheek as he said, "Okay."

And then you were kneeling between his legs again, and he ran his fingers along your cheek while you stroked him with your hand a few times. "Ready?"

Your mouth was warm and wet, and Bob was treated to the feel of your tongue swirling along his length. It was the best thing he'd ever felt. Until you sucked on him. "Oh my god," he gasped, watching your pretty eyes as you looked at him. When you started to move your mouth up and down his cock, he laughed softly. "You're amazing."

You moaned while he was deep in your mouth, touching your throat, and he could feel his entire body start to tighten up. He wanted to panic, but then you bobbed along slowly, and he could only feel pleasure as he wrapped his fingers around the back of your head. And with one more swipe of your tongue, he was ejaculating right into your mouth.

He couldn't formulate words as he grunted and watched you suck on him and swallow his cum. When he touched your throat as you swallowed him down, he groaned softly.

"Was that okay?" you asked before licking up a little more cum that dripped out like it was a treat for you. Your hand was still wrapped around him, and you were treating him like a lollipop now, and he already wanted you to give him another blowjob.

"Yes," he managed to say, feeling quite boneless on your couch as you giggled.

"I liked it, too," you assured him. "Let's go to my bedroom." You pulled him to his feet, and somehow his brain recovered the knowledge of the mechanics of how to walk. He pulled his underwear and pants up as you led him along. He barely had a chance to look around your room before your hands were gently undoing his shirt buttons. And then you undressed him down to his white briefs, running your warm hands along his biceps and shoulders with a look of awe on your face.

Bob wouldn't say he was self conscious exactly; his body was strong, and it did everything he needed it to, because he took care of himself. But he wasn't as handsome as Hangman and Coyote, and he wasn't as muscular as Payback and Rooster. But you didn't seem to have an issue with anything you saw as you folded up his uniform and then pressed a kiss to the center of his chest.

When he reached for your dress, you bit your lip and immediately said, "My body isn't perfect like yours."

"Perfect?" he mumbled. You thought he looked perfect? That was impossible. You were so close to perfection, he still couldn't believe you'd even talked to him at the Hard Deck in the first place. And with each additional time he looked at your face, he was certain you just got prettier.

"Yeah," you told him as you ran your fingers down his flat abs and then along the waistband of his underwear. "Perfect."

But you looked up at him and reached for the hem of your dress before you pulled it up your body and over your head, dropping it on top of his uniform and kind of shrugging. You were completely naked now, and Bob hadn't been prepared. At all. He started stuttering at the same time his cock started getting hard again.

"I th-think... wow." He took a deep breath and started over again. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"So smooth," you whispered. And then Bobby was in your bed as you reassured him that it was okay to just snuggle with you under the warm blanket. So he pulled you against the front of his body, and he was the big spoon as you kissed his hand.

He was sure you must have been able to feel the press of his erection against your back, but you didn't say anything about it. Instead you asked him all about himself, and you told him stories, too. And after a while, Bob's hands grew a little bolder, drifting over the soft skin of your belly and hips until it sounded like you were begging for him. Soft little moans filled the space while you whispered his name. He wasn't sure what to do next, but you rolled over to face him and started to kiss him.

Yeah, this was really good. He liked this immensely. He liked the way your hands on his bare skin made him feel safe and grounded. He liked how you were going slowly again, because when you finally reached down toward his cock, he was ready for it.

"Wait," he whispered, pushing you gently onto your back. "May I do to you what you did to me earlier?"

"Yes," you whispered, slowly spreading your thighs apart as Bob nodded. He'd done this a few times before. He'd liked it in the past. But when he put his lips on your slick slit, he moaned in pleasure which made you moan as well. He liked the way you tasted and smelled, and when he licked your opening, you were already gathering the sheets in your fists.

That seemed like a good sign, so he just kept going. At each encouraging sound or gasped word from you, he went harder and faster. Soon you were loud. Like very loud. You were propped up on one elbow watching him. And you had one leg draped over his shoulder, heel digging into his back as you whined, "Bobby! You've done this before!" You were rolling your hips up against his face, nudging his glasses.

When he slowed his movements to reach up and removed them, you gasped. "Don't you dare! You leave your glasses on!" Your eyes were flashing with need, and Bob did exactly as he was told.

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered with a smile as he returned his mouth to your pussy. He licked and sucked until you were yanking on his hair and riding his face, and then you came with your back arched, whining his name so loudly, he thought your neighbors could probably hear.

"Bobby!" you gasped before collapsing back on your pillow. And just when he thought things couldn't possibly get any better, you took his hands in yours and ran them along your breasts. "Kiss me," you demanded, and so he did. You licked his lips clean while he squeezed your breasts, and soon he was tasting you there as well.

You were alternating between pulling him up to kiss your lips and pushing him down to kiss your breasts, and really there was no bad option for Bob. He could probably do this all night if that's what you wanted. But you seemed to want more, because you rolled him onto his back and pulled his underwear off in one swift motion.

"I'm going to go ahead and guess that you don't have any condoms with you?" you asked softly, kissing his bent knee.

He shook his head, but at least he was pretty sure he wasn't blushing any longer. "No. Sorry."

"I have some," you reassured him. "But... I don't know if they're big enough." You scooted off of the bed and walked out of the room, and Bob got a little apprehensive. He didn't know his size could potentially be an issue? He didn't even know he would be considered big.

But when you walked in a minute later, tearing open a small box with a smile on your face, he felt better. Bob tried to roll on a condom, but it broke immediately. "It's okay," you said with a laugh, trying a second one which also broke.

"I'm sorry," he whispered with a laugh. But you managed to get the third one on him successfully.

"I'm on the pill anyway," you told him. "You know, in case this one breaks, too."

"Alright," he whispered against your lips as you straddled him and guided your pussy down around him, inch by inch. You kissed his lips and cheeks and neck, running your fingers through his hair as you set a slow, steady pace.

But Bob was almost immediately stammering and blushing. "It feels too good," he told you, but you silenced him with your kisses and went a little harder. You felt so tight, so perfect, and you were letting him touch you everywhere. Your breasts were soft, and you were arching your back, pressing yourself into his hands.

"You feel good too, Bobby," you promised him, grunting softly as you rode him. He let his hands slide slowly down your sides until they were on your hips, and that was a mistake. Because he could feel the motion of your body taking his. He could feel the roll of your hips against his palms.

"It's too good," he groaned, and then he was coming inside you. "Sorry," he whispered, panting against your shoulder as his pleasure washed over him.

"Don't apologize for anything," you told him, riding him with slower movements until he was breathing like normal.

"I just want to be better for you," he promised, and when you adjusted his glasses for him, he smiled.

"We have all night."

Bob frowned at you. "Can we have longer than that?"

You looked down at him with parted lips. "If you still want to?"

"I thought we agreed we were going to date," he said. "Breakfast is one thing, but I thought we could do all kinds of stuff together. Hang out and maybe I could be your boyfriend after a week or two."

Without another word, you kissed him. And you didn't stop kissing him. And late night turned into early morning, and there were a few more experiments with the condoms. And a few without.

And instead of ever making it to breakfast, Bob ended up treating you to lunch instead. He wore his wrinkled, day old uniform that you insisted looked adorable on him while he sat with his arm around you. And then he took you to see his place, which consisted of lots of snuggling and another blowjob.

"My friends are asking if I'm going to the bar again tonight," he told you, running his fingers along your arm as you rested your head on his shoulder.

"Do you want to go?" you asked, pressing your lips to his neck.

"Only if you come with me."

And when Bob strolled into the Hard Deck again on Saturday night with your arms wrapped around his waist and your voice in his ear, he just smiled at the looks he was getting. It didn't matter if he thought he was as handsome as Hangman or as strong as Payback, because you kept assuring him that you thought he was.

You spent another evening touching and kissing him, perched on his leg and laughing. And he made plans with you for the following day and the following weekend and the one after that. He wouldn't be surprised if he was making plans with you every day for the rest of his life. And he would let you name the golden retriever.

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

I wonder what the dog's name will be. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

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#bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd fic #robert floyd fic #robert bob floyd #robert floyd x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #bob fucks #roosterforme #the wingman #top gun bob #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader

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little-diable · 4 months

Text

Hold me close - Prof!Carlisle Cullen (smut)

I know this isn't what you requested @emberfrostlovesloki – but I hope you still enjoy it! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Let's be honest, this is pure pwp, prof!Carlisle worries about the reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, prof x student, reader is legal ofc, age gap

Pairing: Prof!Carlisle x fem!student!reader (1.8k words)

The room was filled with students, a buzzing atmosphere that trapped them, forcing anticipation to flush through their systems. Every Thursday morning they found themselves in this room, eyes glued to the professor most of them fawned over, begging for a few seconds of his attention.

Professor Cullen had joined the university a few semesters ago, instantly becoming the students favourite professor. He had something to him that drew the students to him, lured closer by the man with golden eyes and frame so tall, they wondered how it must feel to have him towering over them. And trapped in the middle of it all was (y/n), one of the few students the professor called by her first name.

She couldn’t remember how it had all started, longing glances, inside jokes, cold touches. Nothing inappropriate had ever happened between them, Carlisle Cullen wasn’t one to cross lines that could end his career and ruin her future. And yet there was something between them that was anything but professional, an ongoing back and forth neither of them wanted to put an end to.

“(Y/n)?” His voice cut through the sounds the crowd of students produced as they left the class, already excited for next week. Their eyes met, drawn to one another like moths to flames, silently communicating. He watched her move closer, trembling feet struggling to support her frame, hand darting out to grasp the edge of the table he was leaning against. “Are you alright?”

Concern dripped from the professor’s voice, worried eyes wandering over her features, trying to stop his hand from reaching out to touch her. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, trying to find her voice, but the room began to close in on her, unable to speak up as her vision grew blurry, head pounding.

“Come, let’s get you somewhere quieter.” This time he didn’t manage to stop himself from touching her, hand placed on the small of her back as he guided (y/n) out of the room. Neither of them spared the curious eyes of the other students any of their attention, while Carlisle found himself worrying about (y/n), her mind slowly grew clearer once again, hyperfocusing on his touch. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Just water, please.” A hum left the professor as (y/n) sank down on the comfortable couch placed in Professor Cullen’s office, the room she had been in numerous times before. He moved quickly, placing the glass of water down for her before he sat down next to (y/n), eyes not leaving her features once. “I think I simply forgot to drink enough, I’ll be fine.”

“Mhm, you need to take better care of yourself, love.” The word left his lips before his mind could pick up on the things his mouth was doing, hearing her heartbeat picking up its beat. Even though he’d never admit it out loud, Carlisle loved the way her body was reacting to the things he said, the things he did, wondering how it must feel to have her pressed against him, fully focusing on every little reaction. “I can’t have my best student passing out, can I?”

“Your best? I doubt that.” (Y/n) didn’t dare meet his eyes, breath stuck in her chest as his hand found her chin, forcing her to look at him. For a few seconds neither of them spoke, while her blood began to sing in her ears, his eyes flickered down to her lips, allowing him to focus on the thoughts he had tried to drown out ever since meeting her. She felt his thumb on her trembling lower lip, carefully stroking the soft skin as a gasp left her, unable to stop the sound from leaving her.

Before either one of them could move, the sound of his alarm going off ripped them apart. Carlisle rose to his feet with a sigh, reaching for his phone to silence it once again. “I’ll have to leave now for my shift at the hospital. Do me a favour and text me tonight, just a small update on how you are feeling.”

……

Ever since (y/n) had left Professor Cullen’s office, she had wondered if their moments together had truly played out like that or if her confused mind was playing a trick on her. Whatever it was, she couldn’t help but be grateful for it, clinging to the memories playing in her mind over and over again.

She wondered how long she should wait to text him, but ever since 8pm had rolled around, she had been sitting on her bed, eyes focused on her phone. Again and again she tried to type out her message to her professor, wondering what and how she should update him. Her fingers trembled at the mere thought of her professor, mind filled with sinful images she found herself longing for whenever she got time to think.

Before she could send her text the professor had taken it upon himself to reach out, a simple “How are you doing, (y/n)? Do you need something?”. Heat rose in her body at the sweet message, biting her lip to stop her smile from growing even wider. With her heart pounding in her chest she typed her reply, fuelled by her curiosity and excitement.

“I am alright, still a bit shaky, but no longer close to passing out. How was your shift?” Her phone was tossed away from her the second she had sent the text, insides churning in excitement, silently praying to whoever was listening that he’d fuel a conversation.

It didn’t take him long to get back, but not in the form of another text, forcing (y/n) to reach for her buzzing phone as he called her. A deep exhale of warm air left her before she picked up the call, murmuring a soft “Hello?”.

“I don’t like that you’re still feeling unwell, if it’s alright with you I’d like to check on you.” She was glad that the professor couldn’t see her, pupils growing wide as her lips formed another grin.

“I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do, I’m okay, promise.” (Y/n) could imagine him staring down on her, shaking his head with a displeased sigh leaving him, not trusting the young woman.

“Nonsense, text me your address, I’ll be there in a few.”

……

If somebody would have told her back then that within the next hour she’d end up in his lap, arms wrapped around his cold neck, lips locked with his, she probably would have broken out in laughter, doubting that he’d ever give into their game. And yet, here she found herself, straddling the man’s lap, fingers tangled in his golden hair.

Carlisle’s cold hands moved up and down her back, leaving sparks to shoot down her spine. She kept on trembling, though no longer because of her exhausted body, but because of the things the man made her feel. He kissed her as if he was in search of her soul, chaining her to him with a few simple touches that left her burning from inside out.

“You can always tell me to stop, love.” She couldn’t help but swoon at the care dripping from his words, holding her close with warm eyes getting lost in hers. (Y/n) cupped his cold cheek, pressing another kiss against his lips before a quiet “Don’t ever stop, please” left her.

For a few seconds he stared at her before he flipped her onto her back, pressed against her couch with her legs wrapped around his waist. Her gasps left him smirking in pride, lips kissing their way down her throat, allowing her shaking fingers to unbutton the black dress shirt he was wearing. Both were fueled by their desire, unable to ponder on the question whether what they were doing was right or wrong, needing to feel one another.

“My pretty girl, such a pretty sight. I want to take my time with you, but I can’t promise that I’ll be gentle.” The words left her moaning, eyes threatening to roll back into her head as her teeth left marks on her lower lip.

“Don’t be gentle, mark me up, please. Fuck me, professor.” (Y/n) whimpered the words, coaxing a deep grown from the man as he rose from his position. Without breaking eye contact both got rid of their clothes, bare bodies searching for one another’s closeness. Their lips met once again as he sneaked a hand between their bodies, making moans claw through (y/n). His cold fingers felt all too good against her pulsing bundle, the perfect sensation to push her closer and closer to the edge, once again begging him to fuck her.

Carlisle was rough with her, forcing his cock into her tightness without another warning, but she was aching for him, desperate for him, ready to give him whatever he wanted from her. The tall man didn’t hold back as he fucked her on her couch, forcing her further into the fabric with his eyes growing darker and darker.

“Jesus, you feel so good, fuck.” (Y/n) kept praising the man, eyes squeezed shut, desperate to focus on the feeling that felt so unfamiliar she wondered if she had ever been touched before. Carlisle chased her lips, hungrily kissing the moaning woman as he fucked her even faster, leaving marks that would turn into bruises the next few days. Marks she’d forever cherish, smiling at the memories she clung to.

Curses left the two as she clenched around him, unable to stop herself from cumming with his name leaving her, nails scratching at his skin. It took him a few more moments to let go, holding onto her with his dark eyes taking in every inch of her body. The groan leaving Carlisle as he came made (y/n) shudder, studying him with awe laced in her gaze.

“Fuck, that was-” she struggled to find any words as he gave into a laugh rumbling through him, kissing (y/n) once again before he pulled out of her.

“It was. We can’t go back now, I hope you know that.” (Y/n) pulled him down once again, mumbling a “As if I’d ever want to go back” against his lips.

#Carlisle Cullen smut #Carlisle Cullen imagine #twilight smut #Carlisle Cullen x reader

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dantakeyoman · 1 year

Note

Hi! I wanna cry out my heart tonight so is it alright for you to make a neteyam x reader where neteyam comes back home after the war but hears that reader is mated/bonded with someone else?

Btw I love your works omg! 🥹

Neteyam Returns From the Metkayina and Falls In Love With You Again After Seeing You (SFW / Comfort)

Reader is Fem! Omaticaya

CW: i'm sorry but i couldn't bring myself to do it :'), i had it all planned out but it was just too sad, i hope you're alright with the change tho, fluffy fluff, simp Neteyam appearance, reader is one too, Lo'ak and Kiri are, yet again, Lo'ak and Kiri, skeezy is when someone is weird or creepy, figured I’d slide some black slang in there

"Someone's excited," Kiri giggles, turning to Neteyam as her and Lo'ak's ikran approached the entrance to the Omaticaya Stronghold.

The boy had had this childlike expression plastered on his face nearly the whole way home, which grew in giddiness the closer the family drew to their forest home.

Even in the earlier days when they had stopped for rest, she clearly remembered how much he mumbled your name in his sleep, as if it were a prayer.

It made her want to swoon and gag at the same time.

He's so hopeless.

"Yeah. We all know what your excited to see," Lo'ak smirked, pulling his ikran closer to Neteyam's, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Or should I say...who?"

Neteyam scoffed, rolling his eyes at their antics.

Ever since their journey started, the teasing had been relentless. So much so that it didn't even faze him anymore.

What's a few more minutes of it anyway?

Seeing you again would be his greatest reward.

Four years of pining and longing would all be worth it.

The hard days, the cold nights, the times where he felt like he couldn't anymore. You came to him, be it a dream, or a memory, and told him you could.

It was what made him love you so much.

Even if you weren’t there, you were there for him, easing his body, mind, and soul.

Back when he lived with the Omaticaya, you two had a special spot that one would go to if they were sad, mad, tired, or simply overwhelmed.

The other would comfort them, hold them close, say sweet nothings, make the other feel loved.

It became a regular thing. And now that he was coming back, it was the very first thing he wanted to do with you.

He wanted to feel you run your hands through his hair, he wanted you to trace his glowing freckles, he wanted you whisper how much you loved him into his ear.

Fuck.

“You know what would be hilarious? If she found a mate already,” Lo’ak poorly joked, turning to Kiri.

This quickly brought Neteyam out of his reverie, a nervous frown quickly replacing his smile

Kiri was quick to catch this.

“Don’t joke like that, skxawng!” she scolded, flicking him harshly on the head, earning an angry ow! from him.

“Last I checked, (y/n) was obsessed with Neteyam. She wouldn’t shut up about him. I highly doubt she would ever find someone else.”

But the words went through one ear and out the other.

The thought you would mate with someone else never crossed Neteyam’s mind. But now that it did, it made perfect sense.

Four years was a long time, and you were a beautiful woman.

No doubt some skeezy warrior tried to snatch you up the moment you came of age.

The thought made his blood boil, and his heart wrench.

This couldn’t be the case.

After all he’d been through throughout these four years, the only thing that was keeping him going was the thought of you waiting for him at home.

Now that there was a possibility of you no longer being his, he was truly contemplating turning back.

“Look alive kids. We’re here,” his dad smiled, pulling his ikran to the front of the pack.

“Yay! Home!” Tuk cheered from her spot with Neytiri, earning a laugh from the woman.

She was quite excited to be home, too.

They swooped into the cave, perching the ikran on the stone ledge before dismounting, the entirety of the clan running towards them, crowding the family.

Shouts and cheers of excitement echoed throughout the cave, the cave happy to see their former Olo’eyktan had returned, hopefully ready for him, or his son, to resume the mantle.

Despite the thick crowd, Mo’at managed to make it to the front of the mantle, along with the new Olo’eyktan.

“Jakesully, oel ngati kameie,” Mo’at nodded, pointing her hand from herself to Jake.

“Mo’at, oel ngati kameie. Olo’eyktan, oel ngati kameie,” Jake did the same, turning to the Olo’eyktan as well.

Once the formalities were out the way, Mo’at smiled, enveloping her family in a large hug.

“Welcome home,” she greeted.

The entire family hugged her back, the children happy to see their grandmother again.

“Grandmother! You will never believe what we have seen! All of the sea animals and the plants! Oh, and the tulkun!” Tuk happily rambled, hanging onto her grandma a little longer as the rest of the family broke away.

“I am sure you will tell me all about it tonight. My, you have gotten big!” Mo’at assured, hugging her granddaughter tightly.

While Neteyam was happy that his family was fully reunited once again, he still found his eyes scouring the crowd, looking for a familiar face.

Your familiar face.

“She is in the healing tent,” Mo’at whispered, recognizing her grandson’s distress.

He smiled, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before running off through the crowd, down the familiar path that always led him to you.

Visions of the day he left flashed through his head, reminding him what he was coming back to.

“Are you sure you have to go?” you tearfully asked, cupping his face in your hand.

“I must. My family will put everyone in the clan in danger if we stay,” he sighed, pulling you in closer by your waist, resting his forehead on yours.

“Well if you must,” you sniffled, quickly wiping a tear from your eye. “Then I support you. I will wait for you, Neteyam. For as long as it takes.”

When he snapped himself out of it, he was already at your tent flap, the piece of cloth the only thing keeping you two apart.

He was about to grab it, but stopped mid-way, hesitating.

What if you had really found someone else to love?

“I will wait for you, Neteyam. For as long as it takes,” your words repeated in his head.

He sighed, steeling his nerves, before yanking open the tent flap, walking in.

“Tsahey! How many times have I told you, Ateyo! You have to be more careful when climbing trees. If you had fell any different, you would have cracked your skull open,” you scolded, smoothing a mushroom salve over a large cut on a young boy’s forehead.

You back was turned, and you didn’t hear the flap sound over the boy’s complaints.

“Hitxoa, (y/n). I tried to be extra careful this time! But a syaksyuk came out of no where and shook the branch!” Ateyo whined, wincing at the sting of the paste.

The air caught in Neteyam’s throat as he got a good look at you, his eyes raking up and down your body.

You had grown so much.

Your hair had gotten longer, your chest had gotten larger, and your hips had gotten slightly bigger, with a slightly deeper curve to them.

It was making something stir in his stomach.

The feeling reminded him of that word he had caught his dad calling his mom once. The one that Neytiri hissed at him for when she realized the children were around.

What was it?

Sexy.

When you stopped rubbing the salve on him, the little boy opened his eyes, only for them to land on the tall, warrior behind you, who gave him a polite wave.

The boy gasped in shock, his eyes growing wide with awe.

He knew exactly who he was, every Omaticayan boy did.

Neteyam the Warrior, brother to Lo’ak the Warrior.

Stories of the brothers’ adventures were known throughout the clan. And they practically became legends to the children.

You cocked a brow, slowly turning around.

“What are you-.” Your breath hitched when your eyes met that of the warrior before you, his smile growing at the sight of your face.

You had gotten more beautiful, too.

You slowly stood up, looking the boy...no, man, up and down, a dark shade of blue growing on your cheeks.

He had gotten incredibly tall, and beefier, too.

And with new muscle, came new scars, which now littered his body, in a good way.

In an attractive way.

You would enjoy hearing stories about them as you traced them later tonight.

“Oel ngati kameie, my love,” he smirked, doing the gesture along with it, deeply hoping those words were still true.

The biggest smile you had smiled in four years found their way to your lips as you broke into a run, tackling the poor man in a bear hug.

“My Neteyam! You have returned!” you exclaimed out of pure happiness, throwing your arms around his neck and going on your tippy-toes to kiss him on the lips.

You were no longer tall enough to kiss him normally.

He laughed into it, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him ( if that was even possible ).

After your display of affection, he felt foolish to think you would ever mate with someone other than him.

As the two of you broke apart, he looked into your beautiful, honey eyes, and smiled as saw they held so much love behind them.

You were looking at him as if he hung the stars right before you.

And he recognized this because this was the very same look he would give you.

When you weren’t looking, of course.

“Look how beautiful you have grown. You must be the most sought woman in the clan,” he smirked, sensually tucking a stray braid behind your ear.

You smirked right back, bringing your hands to rest on his chest.

“Ah, yes. It has come to that,” you playfully sighed, leaning in closer so your mouth lay just outside his ear, bringing your voice down to a whisper.

“But I have saved myself for you.”

Neteyam quietly growled, the stir in his stomach increasing tenfold as he thought of what would happen if he took you to Utral Aymokriyä tonight.

“As have I,” he huskily whispered back, giving your neck a quick peck.

His tone made you shudder, suddenly begging for eclipse to come so you two could sneak off.

“GROSS!” the little, forgotten boy exclaimed from the corner, holding his stomach as if he were about to throw up.

“Disgusting! You’re a warrior! You’re not supposed to like this lovey-dovey stuff!” he groaned, pointing to his mouth and gagging.

“Get out of here!” you scolded, turning around and placing your hands on your hips.

But not before Neteyam pulled you into him, your back resting on his strong chest.

“Yeah. Before I start kissing her again,” Neteyam teased, placing a long, dramatic kiss on your cheek, making you giggle.

“GROSSSSS!” the boy loudly groaned in agony, covering his eyes as he ran out the tent.

The two of you laughed at the boy’s antics before you turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck once more.

You both stayed in comfortable silence, having a silent conversation as you stared into each others eyes, taking in every detail and committing it to memory.

Just in case you two would have to separate again.

“You know,” you started, smirking as one of your hands find it’s way to Neteyam’s hair, rubbing it in the way you remembered he liked.

“I was being serious before. I have saved myself.”

You gave a light tug to some of his hair, and the man let out a strained groan, using every ounce of his strength to keep him from closing his eyes in pleasure.

You massaged his head so well.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hold you again,” he sighed, tightening his grip around your waist.

You smiled, inching your face closer to his, to the point where your lips were a hair away.

“Then what are we still waiting for?” you purred.

That was his tipping point.

With a growl, he enveloped your lips in a passionate kiss, and you kissed him back with just as much fervor.

Hooking his hands under your thighs, he picked you up, carrying bridal style as he took you the back way out the tent.

“Neteyam!” you squealed, pulling out the kiss and tightening your grip around your neck, keeping yourself from falling.

“Quiet, my love. Or people will hear us,” he smirked, placing a quick kiss on your lips before running the both of you out the back entrance of the Stronghold.

Sure, you were serious about what you said. But past Neteyam would’ve never been bold enough to actually go through with it.

He had changed in these four years. He had grown confidence.

It was making something stir in you, even more so as you knew your destination would be Utral Aymokriyä.

This is going to be fun.

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #atwow x reader #atwow #omitacaya

5K notes · View notes

writeforfandoms · 10 months

Text

Glitter and Gold

Find the CoD masterlist

As the princess, you always knew you'd marry for power and politics. What you did not expect was to be married to the dragon.

My own take on dragon!Price because I love dragons and I love Price and I went a little feral. Sorry not sorry.

Warnings: Swearing, political discussion (brief), mostly glossed over wedding ceremony, oral sex (f receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex, mention of pregnancy, brief violence (not towards reader), dragon!Price.

Word count: 7.7k

You stood on your private balcony, torn between disbelief and anger. Not that you should have been surprised, really.

Your father, the king, was a stubborn man. For as long as you could remember, he hadn't much liked either of the neighboring kingdoms, speaking of them with contempt. Your kingdom was the smallest of the three, but strategically placed, with access to the sea and rivers and mountains. Yours was a kingdom of natural wealth.

But even so, you'd never have guessed that your father would go so far in his quest to spurn the other two kingdoms (and try to attract a more lucrative offer from a further away kingdom, undoubtedly) as to offer you to the dragon!

The dragon lived just on the border of the kingdom, and had for centuries. He mostly kept to himself, only very rarely making an appearance when he deemed it necessary. You could remember the last time you'd seen him - you'd been much younger, staring up in awe at the massive form flying high above the capitol city. From the distance, it had been hard to tell what color he was, or how big he really was.

And your father had offered your hand in marriage. To this dragon.

You blew out a sigh and shook your head. It was unlikely the dragon would reply. This was just a political move.

A breeze rustled your skirts, and you frowned a little. Actually, the breeze was picking up. Looking out over the city, you could see flags beginning to snap in the wind.

Shouting drew your attention, and you looked down into the streets, only to see people clutching clothing and staring up at the sky. You followed their pointing and froze.

A dragon was coming down from the mountains, heading straight for the city. Sunlight gleamed off him, all reddish-copper, and every beat of his wings sent wind gusting down to the city. Baskets fell, curtains whipped, and one or two people even fell from the force of the wind.

Being elevated above much of the city was worse - you clung to the balcony railing to keep your footing, eyes narrowed against the sheer ferocity of the wind.

You'd been wrong, you and your father both. The dragon was upset, and he was coming to punish you, to destroy your city for your father's arrogance–

The dragon was nearly to you now, so huge he eclipsed the sky, dark and foreboding. The dragon tipped his head, one jewel-bright eye staring down at you. Smoke plumed from his nostrils, thick and dark and completely obscuring the sky for the longest moments of your life as you waited for the fire and the screaming.

But it never came.

There was a thump almost directly in front of you, and the smoke cleared enough to show a man crouched, perched, on the balcony railing. Jewel-bright blue eyes held your gaze for a long moment before he blinked once. A hat was perched on his head, obscuring much of his hair, but he had a full beard in dark auburn, hints of gray peppering it. His clothes were sturdy but out of date. Those eyes drew you in again, too bright to ignore.

"You must be my beautiful bride," he rumbled, low and rough as a rockslide.

"Bride to be," you corrected him crisply, lifting your chin a little. Nothing about this made sense, so you may as well stand up for yourself and what you wanted.

His lips quirked in amusement. "Bride to be," he agreed, gaze raking over you in a way that felt far more intimate than it actually was. A faint curl of smoke escaped from his nose when he breathed out.

The door to your room burst open, you could hear it even from the balcony. "Princess!" Half a dozen guards trooped through, although really only one of them fit on the balcony with you and your draconic fiance. "Uh."

"I suppose we'll need to talk to my father." You straightened your shoulders, looking at those blue eyes again. He was smirking now, apparently amused. But he hopped lightly down from the railing, nimble for a man of his size. And oh what size he had - easily taller than your father, with broad shoulders that spoke to his strength.

“If you insist,” he agreed, motioning for you to go first. When you stepped ahead of him, he placed a proprietary hand at the small of your back, light but warm. The warmth seeped through your layers, too warm to be human. The little reminder sent a thrill down your spine.

But it wasn’t fear. Not quite.

The guards all moved out of your way, and you didn’t even glance back to see if they were following. They were.

This time of day, normally your father would be in talks with his advisors. But, given the very recent upset of having a dragon arrive in the city, it was possible he’d be in his receiving room instead.

At least, you hoped he would be.

The dragon-man kept up with you easily, long strides unhurried despite the pace you set. His hand never left you back, ensuring you stayed close to him.

You snuck a glance at him only to find those blue eyes already focused on you. But you refused to duck your head, refused to look away, refused to be embarrassed.

After all, if he was to be your husband, what was the harm in looking?

One of the guards got ahead of you to pull open the door to the receiving room, and you swept in first.

"Father," you greeted, finding him already standing, staring, a little pale.

"Welcome," your father greeted, focused on the man next to you. "I wasn't expecting you to respond so quickly."

The dragon's lips quirked in amusement. "I can see that."

"Perhaps we should discuss the necessary arrangements privately." The king glanced at you, his two advisors already standing to leave.

"No." The dragon didn't move, the one word short and sharp. Everyone froze. You barely dared to breathe. "She stays. It is her life, after all."

Your father frowned, just for a moment. "If that is your wish."

"It is." The dragon was calm, confident, unhurried. And his hand hadn't left your back.

The door closed softly after the advisors, leaving the three of you alone.

"Well. I assume you're here to accept my offer." Your father didn't spare you a glance, instead focusing on your dragon.

"Yes." He prompted you forward with gentle pressure at the small of your back. "I will take her as my bride."

"Of course." Your father eyed him shrewdly, calculating. "I will need some time to arrange everything–"

"Send it after us." The dragon shrugged, unconcerned. "We will depart shortly."

You turned to look at him, frowning. "Without a wedding?"

He shifted with you, keeping his hand pressed to your back. "Do you need one?"

"Yes, I do."

He huffed in soft amusement. "Very well, my bride." He tugged you closer, gently, coaxing.

"It will take time to make such arrangements," your father started slowly, calculating.

"You have three days." Your dragon was colder with him, less patient.

"But–"

"Three days." His eyes narrowed a little, a wisp of dark smoke escaping with the words.

Your father paused and swallowed. "It will be done," he agreed.

And that? Seeing your father back down and bend to the dragon's will? That sent a thrill down your spine, made your pulse pick up.

"Any other supplies needed will be sent after us." The dragon looked down at you again, his expression softening. "You will tell me if there is anything specific you need."

You blinked at him but nodded. "I will," you agreed in a murmur.

His lips twitched and he nodded. "Then we should have nothing else to discuss."

The king stiffened a little but apparently decided it wasn't worth potentially angering the dragon, because he nodded.

The dragon nudged you out ahead of him, hand still against your back. "Do you need to prepare?"

"I should," you agreed, looking at him. "But…"

"Yes?" He raised one eyebrow at you.

"What can I call you?" You shifted slightly closer to him. "Since I am to be your wife."

His lips twitched in that little smile again, private and pleased. "John."

"John," you repeated. "Will I see you again before the wedding, John?"

"You will." He smirked, stopping when you did. "I'll see you soon." His hand finally left your back, leaving you almost cold, and one big finger tucked under your chin. Eyes wide, you tipped your chin up at his insistence, your gaze locked on his. He leaned down, sending your heart pounding. For a wild moment, you thought he was going to kiss you.

But he simply nosed your cheek, gentle and warm. He stepped back, releasing you from the sheer pull of his gaze, and dipped his head to you in the only sign of respect you'd seen from him.

Leaving you warm and flustered and chilled all at once, standing outside your rooms.

The rest of the day and the next passed in near-frantic preparations. You directed some maids to pack up the things you decided you could not live without, and fortunately a dress had already been in the works. There was no way to get any other dignitaries or even leaders from the other towns in your kingdom.

It was going to be an unconventional wedding, for an unconventional marriage.

But you couldn't deny the stirrings of excitement in your veins.

Especially after John came back to visit you.

He found you outside in the gardens, walking slowly, letting the familiar paths help settle your mind. You didn’t even hear him approaching - one moment you were alone, and then he fell into step next to you, startling you.

“Apologies, princess,” he murmured with a smirk.

You huffed. “You’re quiet,” you observed, glancing at him. “I’m surprised.”

He shrugged. “Habit,” was all he said on that. He reached up to adjust his odd hat, gaze interested as he looked around the garden. “Have to admit mine doesn’t look this good.”

“You have a garden?” The thought was so surprising that you stopped, blinking up at him.

“A garden was left behind,” he corrected gently. His hand landed at the small of your back again, gently pushing you into walking. “I don’t do much to maintain it.”

“Hmm.” You eyed him curiously. “Where do you live?”

He glanced down at you, openly amused. “You’ll find out,” he murmured.

“Do you live alone?” Curiosity had reared its head now, refusing to relent until you had at least a few answers. He hadn’t gotten mad at you yet, after all.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

That got him to pause for a moment, considering how to answer you, even as he kept walking. “Never taken a mate,” he said finally. His teeth flashed briefly in a grin. “Never been offered a bride, either.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. “Then I suppose this will be something new for the both of us.”

“Suppose it will.” His fingers flexed against your back before he tugged you closer, close enough to feel the heat pouring from him, the scent of smoke seemingly a permanent fixture around him. “And what does my princess think of marrying a dragon?”

You warmed at the easy, possessive way he referred to you. “I think I will not be bored with you.” You tipped your head, playful but still watching.

He chuckled, rumbling and delicious. “No,” he agreed, his voice even lower than normal. “You won’t.”

The pair of you paused near one edge of the garden, although you couldn’t look away from him. He wasn’t upset with your testing - if anything, he seemed to be enjoying this as much as you were.

You would need to go, and soon, but first, one more thing…

“You know,” you started, casual, watching him intently, “I have heard a few rumors about dragons.”

“Oh?” One eyebrow lifted in clear invitation to keep going.

“As much as I don’t think this one is accurate, I still feel I should tell you…” You risked taking one step closer to him, trying to hide your humor. “Just so you know… If what I heard is true… If you eat me, I will give you indigestion.”

He blinked at you, eyes wide, apparently stunned with your daring. And then he tipped his head back to laugh, loud and unrestrained, baring the long line of his throat to you.

Oh, that was an absolutely lovely sound. You could get addicted to that sound far too easily.

“You are a feisty one,” he murmured, finally looking at you again with a smirk. “Good.” He looked back towards the castle, eyes narrowing, before he huffed. Smoke plumed out of his mouth with the exhale, thick and dark. “You need to return before they come searching for you.”

“I suppose so.” You couldn’t hear anything, but perhaps his hearing was better than yours. It wouldn’t truly surprise you.

“I’ll see you in the morning, princess.” He leaned in again, slowly but surely, his hand big and warm at your waist. But this time, his lips brushed your cheek, so light you could just feel the touch.

And then he was gone, turning and walking away from you.

The remaining time passed too fast until you found yourself at the ceremony. Since everything had been rushed, the ceremony had been opened to the city - people were gathered outside the pavilion, jostling and shifting to get a better view.

Not necessarily of you. But of your soon-to-be-husband.

John stood tall, shoulders straight, hat gone to show the horns arching from his head. Those did make you blink, at least until those blue eyes met yours again. Then everything else just… faded into the background. The crowd didn’t matter. Your family didn’t matter. Even the droning of the priest didn’t matter.

All that mattered were those blue, blue eyes.

The ceremony finished, and you had to blink yourself back to the present. Right. You still had to sit through the rest of the celebration.

Except John took your hand, tugging you closer to him. You blinked up at him, caught off-guard.

“Time to go,” he murmured, ignoring everyone else as he began to walk.

“Already?” You debated seeing if you could get him to relent to you again, or if that would be pushing your luck.

“I’ve already waited three days for you,” he rumbled, amused. “Got everything ready for you before I came to get you.”

And that? The knowledge that he’d not just received the offer and immediately come, but had put thought into this? Had something prepared for you? That melted you, just a little, sent your heart thudding into your ribs.

“How are we getting there?” You thought that was a fair question, once again focused on him to the exclusion of the rest of the world. Vaguely, you noted people getting out of his way, well-wishes yelled to you both. But you ignored the lot of it.

The smile he slanted at you was amused and more or less hidden by his beard. “You’ll see,” was all he offered, taking the fastest route out of the city. You stumbled once, not exactly attired for a quick walk through the city. A moment later you were scooped up in his arms, held securely there. Your gasp made him smile.

“You don’t have to–” you started to say, uncertain, hands gripping his shirt.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, just for you. “You’re fine.”

You’d only known him for days, and yet you believed him. You didn’t protest again, simply curling further into him. The deep, pleased hum from him was something you felt more than heard.

He didn’t stop until you were outside the city, the walls well behind you before he finally set you on your feet.

“Now you’ll see how we’re getting home.” He grinned briefly, taking a few big steps back, away from you. You blinked, curiosity overpowering anything else, and watched him. He breathed out smoke and there was a low sound, like distant thunder. Suddenly pressure in the air made you take a half-step back, wrinkling your nose and shaking your head briefly to clear it.

A low rumble drew your gaze back to where John had been. The smoke was clearing slowly, but enough that you could see the outline of something much, much bigger. Your heart slammed against your ribs and you went very still, caught in the ages-old terror of a predator much bigger than you.

The dragon moved slowly, making a low noise almost like a purr except much deeper. His head snaked forward, long neck straining a little, before halting right in front of you. His head was bigger than you were tall, thick horns curving back over his head. But his eyes were still that same jewel-bright blue.

"John?" Your fingers trembled as you held out one hand, still moving so slowly.

Those big, bright eyes blinked slowly and he pushed his snout into your fingers, more gently than you would have thought him capable. Copper-red scales were warm and smooth to your touch, and touch you did. Your fingers started on his snout but moved up until you were on your tiptoes to explore, curiosity quickly overriding your fear. The ridges above his eyes were a little tougher, but he leaned into the touch when you scratched gently, and something in you melted.

"You're not so scary," you teased him gently, scratching harder at his eye ridges to watch his eyes close in clear enjoyment. "Are you?"

He huffed, smoke blowing out his nostrils, but you just laughed.

"Okay. How are we…?" You trailed off, uncertain how to ask the rest of the question.

He nudged you very gently with his snout, pushing you towards his shoulders. There was a spot you could just see, at the end of his neck before his wings, where you could hold on.

It would not be the most dignified way to travel, but… who was there to judge you anymore? Who would even dare?

Your lips stretched into a slow grin at the realization, heart fluttering. You had a dragon for a husband. Nobody would dare to mock you now!

He huffed again, nudging you gently. You patted his nose.

"Yes, alright, let me figure out how to get up there." You eyed the vast expanse of scales and muscle in front of you. There were, of course, no clear handholds, or places to put your feet.

You did shriek, just a little, when he suddenly picked you up by the back of your dress, teeth closed very carefully around fabric only, and deposited you into place.

One new observation: your husband was impatient. Or at least not currently willing to indulge your curiosity. You pouted.

Until he stood up, the sudden motion making you cling to his scales, hunkering down. He rumbled again, the noise vibrating through his chest and straight into you, at once comforting and electrifying.

That was all the warning you got before he started moving, loping several strides until his wings snapped out. One flap of those great wings nearly unseated you, and you were quick to adjust your seat and grip before he beat his wings again, and you two were in the air.

Wind whipped at your hair and clothes, and it took you a few minutes to find a comfortable place to sit and cling to him securely. You made the mistake of looking down only once, the trees far below you bending and swaying with the force of his passage. A little sick now, you closed your eyes tightly and just hung on tight.

You weren't sure how long the two of you traveled. Longer than you liked, certainly. Much shorter than it would have taken on foot, or even on horseback.

The sun was still bright out when he flew lower, aiming for the side of a mountain. You squinted, trying to see where he was going. But the wind was too strong and he was going too fast.

The sun was suddenly gone and you gasped, blinking rapidly, even as he slowed and then landed more delicately than you would have thought.

Finally giving you a chance to look around.

The cavern was big, easily big enough for him to fly into or out of, and fairly dark. You tipped your head back, looking up at the rough ceiling above, awed.

A soft grumble from the dragon made you blink and look back at him to find his head turned to look at you. One big eye blinked, and he slowly lowered himself all the way to the ground.

Guess it was time to get down.

Very carefully, you slid down his shoulder until your feet touched the floor. But your first step was wobbly and your knees nearly gave out under you. But you remained upright, more or less, until you could stagger against one wall of the cavern.

The air around you shivered and shifted again, and a moment later you heard footsteps.

"Easy, princess," he murmured, voice even raspier than normal. "You're alright."

"I'm fine," you agreed, still a little shaky. "Just… not accustomed. That's all."

Big warm hands settled at your waist, holding you steady. "Hmm. Your shoes are no good down here. I'll have to fix that." His hands left you for a moment before he was scooping you up into his arms again.

"I could manage," you protested gently, though your hands were already curling into him. "You've already carried me a lot."

"You're fine," he insisted, holding you a little tighter. "I've got you."

You hummed and relaxed into him, enjoying the warmth after the chill of the flight here. You did hold a little tighter to him as the light all but vanished as he walked down a hallway.

"Almost there," he assured you, rumbling soothingly.

You swallowed but nodded once, waiting a little anxiously for the light to return.

Which it did with grandeur.

You gasped as John turned a corner, light streaming down from above, tinged gold as it bounced off strategically-placed mirrors and shields of gold. The entire space was large, and somewhat open around what you could only assume was his hoard. Gold and gems piled up in the center of the room, jewelry spilling out onto the floor. A goblet lay on its side on the floor, little red gems set into the precious metal.

"Welcome to my hoard," John rumbled, walking closer, still not letting you down. "You will have plenty of time to explore to your heart's content, princess. You should see this first."

You blinked, shaking yourself a little out of the momentary daze, and looked up at him. "Oh?"

He merely hummed, walking around the long side of the hoard to the back. You could see another hallway leading to a set of stairs, but your attention was quickly diverted.

Tucked between the back of the hoard and the back wall was, for lack of better term, a nest. A long piece of blue fabric had been stretched over the top to allow for some privacy, while pillows and blankets had been piled into a rough circle.

"Oh." Your eyes went wide as you examined the space, gaze darting everywhere. "Is this…?"

"For you," John agreed, setting you on your feet.

You stepped forward slowly, pausing at the edge of the blanket nest before you knelt down to feel it. It was softer than you'd expected, well cushioned. You could sleep here easily. Surprised and undeniably touched by the thoughtful gesture, you turned to him with a smile.

"This is amazing," you murmured. "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure." He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Have to keep my princess comfortable, hm?"

You warmed a little at the possessiveness in his voice but stood again. "Show me around?"

His hand settled at your back again, his warmth welcome now in the cooler air of the cavern. He didn't take you all the way around the hoard, saying you'd have plenty of time to explore that on your own. Instead he took you up the stairs, lighting a torch to carry along with you two.

The stairway opened up into another corridor, this one relatively short. An open doorway showed a very old-fashioned kitchen, quiet and empty now. Beyond that were the pantries and cold larder, also all empty.

Another set of stairs brought you up to a servants corridor and then to a formal dining room. The furniture was mostly gone, although the table remained. But the windows remained, mostly intact, and your lips parted in surprise.

"Where…?" You couldn't quite finish your question, gaze darting around, steps slowed to almost nothing.

"My home." John puffed up a little in obvious pride at your reaction, gently tugging you forward. "You will see."

You allowed him to lead you forward, craning your head to try to see everything at once. Although it was old and clearly much depleted, it was easy to see the once-grandeur of this place. Mosaics still remained on the floor, one wall although cracked still showed a mural: a mountain towered over a castle, a fertile valley stretching below.

"Oh." You blinked at the mural. "Oh, this is the old castle, the abandoned one."

"Been abandoned for a long time," John agreed, coming up behind you to rest both hands at your waist. "Before I moved in, certainly."

"And how long ago was that?" You tipped your head a little to one side, still drinking in the mural.

"A long time ago." His voice rumbled through you, making you shiver.

"I'm surprised it's still standing." You leaned back, just a little, into his warmth.

"Not all of it does," he murmured, lowering his head to speak close to your ear. "Parts of the castle have crumbled, and parts of it are unsafe. But some of it remains intact. I have not had much use for it, but perhaps you would."

"I just might." You smiled, tilting your head back to look up at the ceiling, still in good repair here. "You don't mind?"

"Not at all," he agreed.

You spent a good little while exploring with him. John was never more than a few steps behind you, letting you lead but always warning you if you got too close to anywhere potentially dangerous. It was, actually, quite a lot of fun. These ruins hadn't been inhabited for a long time, John excepted. And you suspected he didn't spend a lot of time up here.

This was not how you'd expected to spend your first day as a married woman, but you were not going to complain.

Eventually, though, the sun dropped and the temperature with it, leaving you fighting off the chill in the air unsuccessfully. John huffed softly and gathered you in close, his warmth absolutely delightful now.

"Need to get you somewhere warm again," he murmured, lips pressing briefly to the shell of your ear.

"I can walk," you insisted.

"Very well, my princess." The amusement was clear in his tone, but he let you walk back through the castle and down the stairs back to the hoard. And, more importantly, to your nice warm nest.

You paused, though, glancing at him. Normally this first night was… more than simply sleeping.

He didn't seem to notice your trepidation, instead stepping aside and over to a small goblet set aside from the rest. You watched him curiously as he pulled a dagger from the same short table the goblet rested on. Before you could ask what he intended to do, he sliced the end of one of his fingers, merely grimacing.

"What…?" You gasped, watching with wide eyes as blood welled and dropped slowly into the goblet.

"You will need this." Sharp eyes glanced at you and away again. "This will help to keep you warm, as well as to protect you."

"Protect me?" You took a single step closer to him. "From what?"

"It gets much colder here than you are used to." John breathed in slowly, gaze fixed on yours. "It will also protect you from me. I run too hot to couple with a human more than once."

You warmed but refused to look away from him. "I see."

He looked away first, looking down into the goblet and wrapping a spare piece of fabric around his finger. "Drink."

The goblet was warm to the touch and you peered into it, a little apprehensive. The blood inside was dark with a shimmer, almost, on top, a shifting slide of colors that changed as you tilted the cup back and forth gently.

Well. You were already here, had already done this much. You just had to trust that he wasn't trying to hurt you.

You tipped the goblet back, drinking the contents down in one go.

It was warm, just the right side of hot. Not unlike a good cup of tea on a chilly evening, only the flavor was all wrong. Iron and something burnt and metal. You swallowed, shivering briefly, the warmth traveling down to your stomach. But it didn't stop there, continuing all the way to your extremities until you were warm, too warm, fever warm. Shaking hands went for your dress to start getting your layers off - you were suffocating in them.

"Easy," John rumbled, catching your hands and pulling you in close. Oddly enough, the warmth of him was soothing rather than too much, especially coupled with the strong hug. "You're alright, princess. Give it a minute, let it settle."

"What–?" You gasped at another wave of warmth pulsing through you, your hands clamping tight around his shirt.

"Shh, love." Gentle lips pressed to your forehead. "It will pass."

You made a very undignified noise, trembling through the heat until it ebbed. Then you rested against him, still trembling but steadier.

"Alright?" John tipped your head up gently, fingers gentle against your skin.

"I… think so." You blinked at him, just now aware of the wetness on your eyelashes. "That was…"

"Necessary." He pressed another kiss to your forehead. He still felt warm to you, but not quite as warm. "You did very well."

You blinked up at him, lifting one shaky hand to wipe away the wetness at your eyes, but he beat you to it. Gentle fingers wiped your cheeks and under your eyes, and he hummed softly.

"You should sleep now," he murmured. "Rest will help you to get back to normal."

"I'm alright." You frowned a little, trying to will yourself into being alright. Very rarely had you been so physically affected by something.

"You will be in the morning." His lips quirked in amusement at your stubbornness. "Let me help you, princess."

You huffed but gave in, still feeling just off kilter enough to not argue further. John helped you out of your gown all the way down to your slip, hands slow and steady over newly-bared skin.

But that was all he did before he helped you settle into the nest.

"Where are you sleeping?" You asked, already getting comfortable, eyelids heavy now that you were horizontal.

"I'll join you later," he murmured. "You just sleep."

You huffed a little complaint but, soon enough, your eyelids closed.

Rather to your surprise, John didn't do more than help you dress or undress for three days. His touches lingered, warm and both soothing and exciting, but he didn't ask for more than that. He seemed happy enough to let you explore, following you into and around the castle and onto the grounds.

Finally, though, you caught his hands as he was undoing the laces to your dress. (A new one today, one that had simply appeared next to your bed that morning with a smug-looking John watching you subtly.)

"Something the matter?" John asked, low and gentle, holding quite still.

"Not exactly," you hedged. "I just… you did mention… and we are married…" You looked down, heat rushing to your cheeks. It's not like you had a lot of experience with asking for this kind of thing.

He chuckled, moving closer until you could feel him pressed up against your back. "Yes, princess?"

You puffed out your cheeks, burning, and almost none of it had to do with his warmth. "I'd like you to… to touch me."

"I can do that." He bent his head, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. At your shiver, he pulled his hands from under yours and finished unlacing your dress, letting it pool around your feet. "How much does my princess want to be touched?"

"Enough to ask for it." You tipped your head to give him better access, hands curling and uncurling to release some of your nervous energy.

"Ask nicely, then." Teeth a little too sharp to be human nipped your ear, and you gasped.

"P-please."

"Mmm, good girl." He rewarded you with another kiss to your neck.

He moved the two of you easily, lowering you into the nest and settling above you to kiss you, his hands working up under your remaining layers to palm your bare thighs. His eyes, when he pulled back enough to look at you, were nearly black with desire.

"Do you have any idea how good you look?" He asked in a low growl, hands squeezing your thighs. "Dressed in things I brought you, in a nest I made for you?"

You gasped at the sheer possessiveness in his voice, shivering once. “John…”

He licked his lips before leaning down to kiss you again, taking his time, discovering exactly what you liked. He didn’t stop until you were panting, hands fisted in his shirt.

But you were still surprised when he ripped the last layer of clothes, sharp nails making short work of the fabric and leaving shreds on the nest around you. Your eyes went wide at how easy it was for him, at the strength he’d been holding back.

And he had been holding back you realized, watching him look over all the newly exposed skin with something almost feral in his gaze. He’d been holding back for you, giving you time.

All thoughts flew from your mind when he dipped his head, lips landing in the divot of your collarbone, hands grasping your hips.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear over the thundering of your pulse. “And mine.” His lips traveled down your body, slow but determined. When your hands tugged in his shirt from the grip you still held, he huffed a warm breath against the skin of your navel. But he was quick to pull his shirt off, gently taking your hands and guiding them to his head. “Hold on to me, love.”

You licked your lips, one hand threading into the thick mass of his hair, the other carefully exploring one of his horns.

All thoughts of exploring flew from your head with the first kiss he placed to your inner thigh.

He moved slowly but steadily, his tongue exploring the space between your thighs. Every gasp, every whimper, every moan that escaped your lips urged him on, his tongue sweeping broadly through your wetness. Warmth pooled low in your belly, tension coiling through your muscles.

John pulled his head back and you whimpered, lifting your head to look down at him. He grinned, teeth just a little too sharp to be human, wetness smeared across his lips and cheeks and beard.

“Tell me if anything hurts, love,” he murmured, low but commanding.

“I will,” you managed, a little surprised you got words out and not just noises.

With a satisfied noise of his own, John dove back in. But a finger slid into you slowly, the intrusion odd but not unwelcome. You couldn’t resist wiggling your hips.

Until his arm banded over your hips, holding you down.

“John–” Your fingers tightened, desperate for something solid to hold onto.

He hummed softly, the sensation shocking and far too good. The noise you made would have embarrassed you if you had any space to think about it, but he must have liked it, because he growled long and low.

The coil in your gut snapped and you shouted as pleasure coursed through you, intense and unrelenting for long moments. Until it ebbed and you relaxed, panting, eyes wide.

“Still with me?” John had shifted up a bit, his chin resting on your hipbone, eyes fixed on your face.

You nodded, slow and languid, eyes fixed on him. "Mmhm."

"Good." He pressed a kiss to the skin of your hip before nipping gently, playfully. "Ready for more?"

You swallowed but nodded, loosening your grip on his hair. He moved up your body slowly, taking his time to place kisses and gentle nips across your skin.

"Tell me if it hurts," he murmured to you, fingers still in you starting to rock again, gentle but insistent. Your eyes fluttered as the warmth in you started up again, slow and steadily building.

"John." You tipped your head to kiss him again, fingers exploring the breadth of his shoulders. It wasn't long until you were moving under him, hips rocking to meet his fingers, your own fingers holding tight to his shoulders. He breathed out against your neck, damp and hot.

"Alright, princess." He pulled his fingers from you, ignoring your little whine. "We'll go slow, hm?"

You didn't understand for a moment, until you felt the thick of him press against you. You breathed in deeply, watching his face. His brow furrowed a little as he started to press in, taking his time as promised, until you had to toss your head back against the pillows with a whimper.

"Alright?" He didn't move, holding himself still, holding back. Again. For you.

"Yes," you gasped, the fullness distracting but undeniably pleasant. "More, please–"

He groaned, one hand clamping over your hip, fingers smearing wetness across your skin. His movements started slow, cautious, until you arched up into him and nearly begged for more. Then he moved faster, that delicious feeling of fullness near-addicting as pleasure coiled.

The heat of him pressed into your skin was more than you'd expected, only heating further as he moved. You quickly understood why he'd made you drink a few days ago - the heat would have been uncomfortable, perhaps unbearable, before.

But now it was all part of this curling pleasure, higher and hotter with every stroke.

"Come for me, my princess," he growled into your ear, teeth sharp against your skin. "Give it to me. One more, give it to me."

Those sharp teeth bit down on the junction of your neck and shoulder and you cried out wordlessly as your pleasure crested and broke. His low growl vibrated against your skin, your chest, even in the deepest parts of you, and you writhed underneath him.

His teeth didn't leave your skin as he thrust a few more times into you and stilled. Heat settled in you, just on the edge of too hot. You gasped, unsure if you wanted to get away from it or not.

"Hush, love." His voice was still ragged but calmer, and he pressed soothing kisses to your skin, even as he kept himself firmly inside of you, keeping that heat trapped in you. "Easy."

"What…?" You blinked slowly, hands slow as they traced his shoulders.

"Just relax," he rumbled, voice dropping to a soothing rumble. "Relax for me, my princess." His hands smoothed up your sides, slow and firm.

You relaxed, lulled by his voice and his touches. Eventually, the near-burning heat in you settled back to something easier, leaving you pleasantly tired.

"Ready to sleep?" He kept his voice quiet and low, one hand reaching up slowly to smooth over your brow.

"Mmhm." You blinked slowly, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"Sleep, then." He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, his eyes nearly glowing in the darkness. That pleased little smile was the last thing you registered before you drifted to sleep.

The two of you settled into a routine after that. You got to go anywhere you wanted. John brought you anything you desired (and then some). It was not the life you'd expected, growing up, but it was better, because your choices were your own. If you ever said no, John respected it.

Things were close to excellent.

A year had passed before you knew it, your belly slowly growing round with the child growing within you. John had started hovering more as you showed, occasionally refusing to even leave your side. (He was just a little overbearing but you knew he meant well.)

One afternoon, he stopped you from leaving the treasury and stalked off, anger rolling from him. Curious and refusing to be left out, you followed.

John stalked out of the long entrance tunnel, plumes of smoke billowing out behind him. Well, whatever had happened, he was very mad.

It didn't take you long to figure out why.

John emerged into the bright daylight and moved silently down the hill a little ways. You barely had time to catch up to him, hand cradled protectively over your belly, when John lunged and tackled something.

No. Someone. Someone who shouted in surprise, sword falling to the grass at his feet. Dark-skinned hands rose to grasp and claw at John's forearm as John lifted the intruder off his feet and into the air.

"I told you to stay inside." John didn't raise his voice, because he never raised his voice at you. But he was displeased.

"I was curious." You took two slow steps closer, eyeing the intruder. "Why did you come here?"

The intruder’s gaze flicked from John to you and back, his brow furrowing. His voice was tight when he finally asked, “Are you the princess?”

“That’s me,” you agreed, amused, lifting your chin. “And?”

“I, um.” He paused, trying to suck in a breath and coughing a little.

“John.”

Your dragon growled, low and displeased, but allowed the intruder’s feet to touch the ground again. He did not let the man go.

“I heard stories,” the man said, glancing between the two of you again. “That a dragon stole a princess, that she needed rescuing.”

“Stole?” Both your eyebrows flew up. “Well. Someone is lying to you all, because I married him.” You finally stepped close enough to put a gentle hand on John’s back.

“...What?” The poor man looked a bit gobsmacked now.

“Who told you I stole her?” John sounded a little less furious, which was a good thing as far as you were concerned.

The man faltered. “I mean, no one in particular, just, there were stories going ‘round…” He shrugged.

You tipped your head, looking at him. He didn’t look like someone from your city, and if he had been, he’d have remembered the wedding. (You were quite sure that people still told stories of the day a dragon had come down from the sky to marry their princess.) So, he was either from another town in your kingdom, or from another kingdom entirely. “Why did you come here?”

“I told you–” he started, confused.

“No, I meant you. Why did you come?” You nudged the sword on the ground, taking a closer look at it. It was old, the edges not sharpened properly. Not the sword of a current knight, certainly.

He paused at that, jaw clenching, fingers still curled around your dragon’s forearm. Then he sighed softly. “Don’t have anything left, figured I’d try.”

“John.” You turned your gaze on your dragon.

“No,” was his instant retort.

“John.” You stepped closer, pressing up against his side, looking up at him hopefully.

John lifted his upper lip in a silent snarl, blowing out some smoke at the intruder, who made a face and tried valiantly not to cough. You ignored the little fit of temper.

“He’s not even a knight,” you murmured. “He was just trying to help.”

“And if I let him go, how many more will follow?” John asked, low and vicious. “Hm? You are mine. I will not allow them to hurt you.”

“So let him stay here.” You shrugged.

“What?” John looked down at you, eyes wide.

“What?” the intruder choked out too, also staring at you.

“You know we could use the help, and I wouldn’t mind the company.” You batted your eyelashes at John. “And that way you’ll know I’m not alone when you have to go do your dragon stuff.”

John looked torn. He was loathe to deny you anything, something you knew and shamelessly took advantage of. He just needed a little nudge.

“What did you do, before you decided to come here?” You looked at the intruder.

“I was a baker,” he admitted slowly.

“Oh, excellent,” you sighed with real pleasure. You’d been missing fresh bread.

John’s shoulders slumped, and you hid your smile. “You have a choice,” he growled at the baker. “You can stay and follow my rules, or I can drop you in the ocean.”

“I’ll stay,” the baker was quick to agree, finally releasing John’s forearm to put his hands out at his sides.

John finally released him, though he still looked grumpy. You ignored that, smiling and introducing yourself properly.

“I’m Kyle,” he said, his smile small but warm with gratitude. “Kyle Garrick.”

“Well, Kyle Garrick, allow me to show you around.” You tucked your arm through John’s, gently tugging until he allowed himself to be led back inside. Kyle fell into step on your other side, though he kept a bit of respectful distance.

Oh yes. You wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

#dragon!price #glitter and gold #john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

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simpforboys · 5 months

Text

my voice will haunt you

drew starkey x fem!musician!reader

summary: during an award ceremony, you honor your grandmother, stevie nicks. but freshly after a breakup, emotions cant help but rise. works for biological or adopted!

warnings: angst, fluff ending, swearing, teasing (the camera men are kinda fucked up), drew and reader are heartbroken but it’s fine, not proof read

listen to silver springs (live) by fleetwood mac!

the pounding in your heart never left until your newly manicured hands clutched the microphone in front of you.

despite your shining smile, your chest ached with fear as the hundreds of celebrities and their families stared at you, front and center of the big stage.

bright lights illuminated your frame, the extra bits of the fabric designed to look like fairy wings hung against your skin.

“hello to the grammys!”

the crowd erupted into cheers as you pulled your face from the mic, sucking in a nervous breath.

“i’m y/n l/n, and with the celebration of my newest album, dread, the grammys have invited me to play tonight.”

you spoke confidently to the crowd, used to performing as your career took off with the help of your grandmother.

any other time you would kill to play for the grammys, but now you all you could feel was dread, because you knew he was here.

“some of you may be familiar with my wonderful grandma, Stevie Nicks…”

as the crowd began to clap and cheer in honor of the legendary woman, your eyes subconsciously began searching the room in hopes you’ll find the deep blue color you became so familiar with.

but he was watching, a pained look hidden deep within his eyes. but he shifted in his seat, feeling a pat on the back from his co-star, Johnathan.

he barely blinked, the aching feeling in his heart deepening. but he was scared that if he closed his eyes for even a second, you would disappear. but then you spoke again.

“so i invite you all to sing with me if you know this iconic song.” you grinned at the crowd, the cameras panning onto the celebrities and artists in their respective seats.

taking in another breath, you heard the okay in your ear piece. as the band began to strum the introduction, you opened your mouth to begin.

“you could be my silver spring, blue-green colors flashing, i would be your only dream,”

Drew felt chills run down his spine as your voice lingered in the crowd. he missed your voice, your personality, your everything.

“your shining autumn ocean crashing, and did you say she was pretty? and did you say that she loves you?”

a tang shot through his body from the lyrics, remembering the reason you two broke up. you had overheard Drew telling his sister that he was conflicted, and while he loved you, Odessa was someone who enticed him.

he felt his eyelids become heavy as he closed his eyes, letting his head hang low a bit. he could feel Madelyn’s eyes drift over to him, knowing that the lyrics meant everything to you both.

“baby, i don’t wanna know. i’ll begin not to love you, turn around, see me running. i say i loved you years ago, tell myself you never loved me, no.”

you picked the microphone up from the stand, beginning to walk around the stage as your vocal cords became deeper, stronger.

Rihanna blew you a kiss as you walked past her, in which you smiled at the gorgeous woman.

unfortunately, it was no shocker that you and Drew recently ended off your three year relationship. being there from the beginning of Outer Banks season one, the fans adored the two of you, more after learning your grandmother.

so, when the news that the “it” couple of the Outer Banks cast got out, a lot of people took it seriously.

“and did you say she was pretty? and did you say that she loves you? baby, i don’t wanna know…oh, no…”

you looked elegant on the stage, your dress flowing as you walked. the band and background singers complimented your voice perfectly, making the performance extra special.

“and can you tell me, was it worth it? really, i don’t wanna know.”

Drew’s eyes returned to you, and it felt like you were specifically asking him the question, even though you were singing to a crowd of people.

and no, it wasn’t worth it. Drew never did anything with Odessa, but you didn’t want to be with someone who doubted their relationship with you.

and so you broke it off, deciding it would be best to have some space from each other.

and it was Drew’s biggest regret.

“time casts its spell on you, but you won’t forget me. i know i could have loved you but you would not let me.”

as you repeated the lyrics, you centered yourself in the middle of the stage once more. unbeknownst to you and Drew, the sneaky camera man zoomed in on Drew’s broken expression.

his eyes were ride, as if in a trance, never wanting to leave you. his usual cheerfulness gone, the sadness radiating off of him as the other celebrities and artists look turns glancing at the man.

“i’ll follow you down ‘til the sound of my voice will haunt you. you’ll never get away from the sound of the woman who loves you.”

you moved to the right side of the stage, approaching the table with Billie Eilish, Timothée Chalamet, Lady Gaga, Anne Hathaway, and Emma Stone.

Billie was singing along to the music, a proud smile on her face as she swayed.

but you felt your heart drop into your stomach with you realized that he was sitting right behind that table.

and as the music picked up, you locked eyes with the man, your skin erupting with goosebumps.

“i’ll follow you down ‘til the sound of my voice will haunt you. was i just a fool? you’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you. was i just a fool?”

the crowd grew silent as it was just you and him in the moment, the guilt radiating off of both your bodies into the air. the sting in your eyes became more evident as your vision became blurry and you hadn’t noticed that all the cameras were locked in on the two of you, sharing your moment for the world to see.

“i’ll follow you down ‘til the sound of my voice will haunt you. give me just a chance. you’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you.”

Drew stared at you with an expression no one has ever seen before; regret, love, and fear. and he just let himself feel, mourning the loss of your presence in his life.

as the background vocalists began to take off, you felt your feet moving back to the center of the stage, trying to compose yourself and not to break down in front of millions of people.

“you could be my silver spring, my blue-green colors flashing.”

as the music ended, the crowd erupted into cheers, everyone in the room standing and clapping.

you hadn’t even realized a tear had left your eye until the drip dangled off your chin, making you wipe it away as you grinned happily.

“thank you so very much for having me. i love you.”

and as the announcers retook the focus, you walked swiftly off the stage.

“you need to talk to her, dude.”

Chase whispered to Drew, everyone at the table staring at him. the man nodded, finally seeming to come back to reality, that you weren’t his girl anymore.

Drew excused himself from the table, knowing where the most likely place you would be at.

he knows that whenever you get overwhelmed you went outside and just listened. listened to the cars, the people, the earth.

so, when he saw you leaning against a wall underneath a large oak tree, he wasn’t surprised.

not knowing what to say, he just decided to lean next to you.

“hi.”

you said after a minute of silence, not bearing to look up at him.

“hi.”

he repeated, his chest heavy. he had so many thoughts and words he needed to say, but it seemed as if something was forcing him to stay quiet.

things had never been awkward between you two. even when you argued, you two always went to bed happy. he never wanted to upset you.

“you were amazing out there, y/n.”

he says, turning to face you. you gazed up at his face, twitching your nose as you fought back tears.

“thank you.”

your words were quiet, and he hated the way your lip trembled as you spoke. all he wanted to do was scoop you into his arms, kiss you all over, and tell you everything was alright. but he couldn’t.

“y/n, i’m sorry,” Drew said, taking you by surprise by his abruptness.

“i should have never doubted our relationship. i was a fucking idiot to ever believe we couldn’t make it. the truth is… i was scared. i was scared you would get tired of being with me, but in the end i lost you. i lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

as he ranted his apologies, all you did was stare up at him, retracing every single part of his gorgeous face.

“and i hope that one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me for giving up on us, when in reality the only thing i need in my life is you.”

“i love you, Drew. and these past few weeks have been hell for me. i want to marry you, to have kids with you, to grow old with you. but i need to know you’re hundred percent committed because i cannot go through another heartbreak like this with you again. i emotionally can’t handle it.”

“i swear to you, y/n. you’re the only girl for me, the only girl i’ll ever need in my life. there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, and i promise that. i promise myself to you. i love you so fucking much.”

you felt his large hands place themselves on your hips until your chests were pressed up against each other. your arms wrapped around his broad, muscular shoulders. he was wearing your favorite cologne, the one that always made your knees weak.

he leant his head down to capture your lips in his, missing your taste. and as the two of you kissed against the wall, the rest of the world drowned out, Drew knew that he would always keep his promise to you.

#simpforboys #he proposed a month later #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x female reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #celebrities #grammys #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey angst #drew starkey smut

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