#the political mistakes get to me i have to say
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Age | Lewis Hamilton
WC: 3.6K
Warning: Age Gap, cursing? kissing
Summery:(REQUESTED) When you fall for your boss who is much older than you.
Masterlist
Getting with Lewis wasn't what you sat out to do, you started working for his LH team, managing their social media and content. They felt like a younger person would best suit the job, Lewis wasn't involved in hiring you. In fact you hadn't seen him until a few weeks after you were hired. When you were sent to film him for content to post on Instagram. Lewis is a very nice man, it's a well known fact. Everyone that has ever
worked with him would tell you this(just don't ask Nico).
You haven't always been drawn to older men; you don't think about age that much. As long as you're both legal and mature, why not? But it wasn't like a kink or a plus in your books. Lewis just drew you in. Maybe it was his confidence, his maturity, or something completely different that captivated you. What you know for sure is that Lewis had your attention the moment you met and talked; there was no denying it. The pull you had, how easy it was for you to talk and have a laugh, was undeniable. Your relationship started professionally, but the more you met, the more you talked, and the more you got to know each other, the closer you got. And when you exchanged personal phone numbers, it was game over. You were calling each other all the time, texting, and FaceTiming. You hadn't reached the point of meeting when there was no reason to. But then Lewis had you travel with him under the guise of needing content, even though Mercedes had its own media managers.
You were denying your feelings. Lewis is an older, more experienced man, and he could have any woman he wants, why would he care or be interested in you, you found no reason for it. All the calls and texting you just convinced yourself is him being nice. Maybe he sees you as a mentee and nothing else.
You were at a hotel room in New York, Lewis had a shoot for one sponsor or the other plus a fashion event to attend. The sponsor stuff was already filmed and done the day before, so that was that. Meaning you'd only photograph Lewis with his outfit to the event and your day of work would be done. Your room was booked in the same hotel as Lewis, definitelydefiantly not as lush as his but it was a five star hotel, your room was amazing. You were lounging a bit in your room until you receive a call that Lewis was
done changing. You hear a knock on the door, you haven't ordered room service, so it came as a surprise.
Getting up from your comfy position on the bed, you open the door to see one of the hotel staff standing in front of you with a clothes bag in hand.
"Hi? How can I help you?" You ask the man, who had a polite smile on his face.
"I was asked to bring this to you." The man tries to hand you the bag but you step back.
"Are you sure you got the right room?" You're certain there must be a mistake why would you be sent a clothes bag
"You're Ms. y/n y/n, right?" You nod with a small yes. The man then smiled bigger and handedhands you the bag again. "Then this is for you."
You hesitate before taking the bag, thanking the man and then closing the door. You open the bag and a dress that is more expensive than anything you own is there waiting for you. Your mouth drops, the dress is stunning, you don't know the brand but it lookslooked amazing. After the shock of seeing the dress wore off you lay it on the bed and find your phone, pressing Lewis's name in the recently calls and press the phone to your ear
"Hello"
"Don't hello me." You say looking at the dress as if it just called you cheap in every language on earth, your tone is not happy and Lewis picks up on it instantly
"What's wrong, love? What did I do?" Lewis has an inkling why you're not happy with him and he's trying not to smile, but he's failing miserably
"You just sent me a dress, for some unknown reason, and I bet it cost an arm and a leg!" You exclaim and Lewis could imagine you pouting as you talk, he lets out a small giggle.
"Look it's from one of my favourite up and coming designers and I saw the design and I instantly thought of you." Lewis defends himself, it's the same designer that designed his clothes for the day.
"So you bought it for me?" You ask in disbelief.
"Yeah." Lewis replied as if it's the most normal thing ever
"Lewis!"
"Yes, baby girl." You instantly stop when you hear the new pet name, Lewis calls you love a lot but that's just because he's British. But this, this new, it got you blushing and struggling to say anything, you're feeling shy and speechless. Damn that man, he knew what he was doing "Seeing as you're not saying anything, I expect to see you in that dress when you come up, also I'll be done in 15 minutes or so."
Lewis hangs up and you're left there staring at the dress, before you sigh. Thankfully you showered this morning, so you just started on your make-up a simple look that will complement the dress nicely, and do your hair. It's more than 15 minutes, but you haven't gotten a call from Lewis or anyone else in the team. Once you're finished and with small heels on you're making your way up to Lewis's suite.
It doesn't take long before the door opens by the designer, she gasps looking at you and grins
"You look stunning" You blush at the praise and walk in
"It's all thanks to you." You wave her compliment off.
"Thanks, but it's the person in the clothes that brings out the beauty of the designs." She tells you and you can't fight the redness in your cheeks. "Lewis is in there."
You go to the room she's pointing at, you're holding your camera equipment bag in your hand. You walk in and see Lewis standing in front of the mirror, inspecting everything about his look. He doesn't look up when you walk in, so you take the moment to take him in, the see-through shirt allows you to see the faint outline of his abs and muscles, his tattoos on show.
Lewis feels your presence, he looks at you and you don't realise it so caught up in checking him out. Happy with himself he takes a moment to look at you, and you're stunning, the dress fits you like a glove, tight in the right places and loose in the right places. He's never seen you so dressed up. Lewis is out of his trace before you are. He clears his throat and your eyes snap to his
All you see in his eyes is amusement, the blush comes back to your cheeks but you ignore it and him and take out your camera.
"You're done right?" You ask him busying yourself. You already know where you want to take the photos, where the best lighting is for everything
"You look stunning, love." Lewis's words once more stun you, and you pause in your actions before you look up at him once more, meeting his coffee coloured eyes.
"It's not practical." You say and stand straight your free hand runs over the dress to smooth out any wrinkles, suddenly feeling insecure. Lewis is always having women thrown at him, models and beauty queens, all stunning, and here you are, just him social media manager/photographer
"It's not meant to be practical, besides after the photos, you're off for the night, and you're coming as my plus one." Lewis states and your eyes go wide
"W-What? No, Lewis I can't go as your plus one." You tell him with a shake to your head.
"Why not?" He asked, crossing his arms.
"Because... I just can't, H-I don't want to." You mumble, looking at the floor not meeting his eyes.
"You don't have to walk the carpet with me, just go inside and join me there." Lewis doesn't want to take it personally, he knows being seen with him comes with a lot of packages and you're not even dating yet.
"Okay, yeah, I can do that." You say and look at him and swallow, Lewis had a smile on his face, as his eyes held you in. You cough and wave your camera. "Let's take some photos now.”
Lewis knows how to pose and it doesn't take long before you have the shots you're both happy with, before Lewis leads you to the mirror with his phone in hand.
"Come on, one of us together." Lewis's smile makes it hard for you to refuse, his arm wraps around you pulling you close to his side, you gasp and his quick movement your hand falls onto his chest to stabilise yourself. You look up, and his face is so close to yours, he's facing the mirror, and clicks his phone to capture the look on your face as you look up at him, Licking your lips slightly you face the mirror and
smile, ignoring your fast beating heart, it's so fast Lewis must feel it. You both pose for a few more, all with Lewis's hand one you one way or the other.
The car ride is filled with small talk, as Lewis and the designer talk, they'll walk the red carpet and you'll be dropped at another entrance. You're sitting between Lewis and the designer. You pull at your cuticles an anxious tic you have when you're anxious. Lewis doesn't look at you, before he takes your hand in his. Your heart skips a beat. Lewis only lets go when you arrive, both their doors are open, and before he lets go of your hand he gives it a squeeze and he gets out
Your seat is next to the designer close to where Lewis is sitting, they have all the A-listers sitting next to each other. But Lewis does come to talk to you before the show begins, and makes sure you're okay. But you only get talking after the show. Where the music is playing, people are dancing and the drinks are flowing at the open bar
"Your first show, what do you think?" Lewis asks you, you're both deciding not to drink since you have flights tomorrow.
"It was great." You reply with a smile. "It was so much fun... thank you."
"No worries, did you take any pictures?" Lewis asked and you shook your head no. "We can't have that, come on, I know a spot upstairs"
Lewis doesn't wait or hesitate, he takes your hand in his and leads you through the crowds, he helps you up the stairs like the gentleman he is. The place he takes you to is empty, the lighting is good and the music is faint. Lewis lets go of your hand and takes out his phone.
"Okay, Mr. photographer, where do you want me?" You tease him and move your arms shyly.
"Right here." Lewis moves you to where he wants and you pose, Lewis hypes you up. "You look great love, a little to the right, yes, now move your shoulder to the front, right there, wow, this one looks amazing, look at you posing."
For the next 15 minutes Lewis takes all sorts of photos, the last ones being a close up of your upper body and face. You don't look at the lens for those you look at him, and maybe that's why they're his favourite. You stand even closer to the older man as you look at the photos he took.
"Look at you go, if you even want to switch careers, photography will do you good." You smile and then look up at him, he's already looking at you and for the hundredth time today, your heart starts beating faster. He's so close to you, you can smell his cologne. Is he? Is he moving closer? Or is it just your mind playing tricks on you? You lick your lips and his eyes move from yours down to follow the movement.
You're already wearing heels, so you couldn't tip toe to close the distance, but you didn't have to, because Lewis leans down and presses his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut, as a shiver went down your spine. Lewis's lips moved against yours once, twice, thrice before he pulled back all too suddenly. The warmths that overwhelmed you is suddenly gone. Lewis’s hands are gone and he takes a step back, your eyes flutter open and all you see is regret. The insecurity is hitting you hard.
”W-w…”
”I’m so sorry love, I didn’t mean to- I just- I’m sorry.” Lewis found himself unable to find the words, he has liked you for a long time, but here he is after kissing you suddenly doubting himself.
”No, no it’s okay, you don’t have to apologise.” You say and look to the side, your hands wrapped around your middle, you swallow.
”No, I have to, I didn’t ask and I don’t know if you wanted me to kiss you and I just did.” Lewis says and you realise why he stopped, why he looked so regretful. He thought you didn’t like it, that he forced you, he thought you didn't like it. “I’m your boss, and I may have pressured you into it and I never wanted to do something like this, I completely understand if- why? Why are you smiling?”
”Oh Lewis Hamilton, the man you are.” Lewis is now left confused, you step closer to him, and Lewis stands still with his hands down by his sides, as you place your hands on his chest, feeling the muscles under your fingertips. “If you only knew how much you affect me, I just thought it was one-sided, that you see me as a child or something.”
”Believe me baby girl, I see you as the woman you are.” Lewis’s voice drops a few octaves that have you shivering. His hand makes the small of your back home, he pulls you closer so you’re flush against him, a gasp leaves your lips, and his hand moves down to the top of your butt.
”Lewis.” You breathe out, your eyes fluttering.
”Sweetheart.” Those fucking pet names will be the death of you, this time you pull him by the back of his neck down to meet your lips. The soft moanes leaving your lips leave him wanting for more.
You don't know how long you stood there for but by the time you were done with the little make out session you both had to fix your lipstick. The lavish bathroom you both stand in front of the mirror, trying to wipe the lipstick. Exchanging smiles and giggles through the mirror, pumping hips and kisses.
”Lewis stop, we can’t kiss, I have lipstick on.” You say giggling halfheartedly pushing him away.
”Once I got a taste I couldn’t resist.” You blush and tell him to stop once more, before you both leave the bathroom. Going back to the event downstairs you both act as if nothing appended, and somehow you sell it.
Safe to say, you’re stuck to each other’s side. Lewis flies you everywhere and your relationship turns from professional to romantic slowly in front of the others, but to you two, after that night in New York you were dating.
You dreaded the time the media will find out, you know there’s two ways it will go, either they will go after Lewis or they will go after you. And you think they’ll go after you. Your appearance in the paddock was nothing new, but your appearance at dinners with other drivers and wags was new. No one said anything or commented, you got on super well with the wags. You did share your fears with Kika and Alex, they gave you as much advice as they could and told you what to expect. It’s always hard when a driver hard launches or even is just rumoured to be with someone.
You and Lewis didn’t get the chance to hard launch or soft launch, or do any of that sorts. A paparazzi somehow found you while you were on vacation and snapped a lot of pictures of the two of you in intimate positions. Kissing, cuddling, hands all over each other, there was no way of getting out of that one.
So during the next race Lewis walked into the paddock with your hand in his, the fans weren’t 100% who you were when the photos were leaked, but the moment you walked in all your social media was out for everyone to see. The things you were both scared of the most, happened. The fans weren’t happy with the age gap, you were both adults but it seemed like everyone knew why you were dating but you too. And that Lewis is just too nice to know that you’re with him for money. The almost 40 year old didn’t know any better. Like a lot of wags you received a lot of hate, and Lewis hadn’t confirmed a relationship in years, so you were an awaited wag.
You both expected all of this, what you didn’t expect is for every driver that interacted with Lewis to have their social media flooded with messages and comments of people telling them to tell Lewis that you were using him, and that the age gap is disgusting.
Lando was streaming once and he was talking about Mercedes or something when the chat took that turn.
”Come on chat, don’t be mean.” Lando said after he noticed all those comments. “You don’t know y/n and Lewis, they’re perfectly happy and there’s nothing to worry about. Let’s all just care about ourselves.”
Lily and Alex were live on Instagram for one reason or the other and they also got a ton of comments, especially since Lilly was seen hanging out with you a Friday of a race weekend.
“Believe me guys, y/n, is the nicest person ever, she’s so understanding and sweet.” Lilly said to the viewers, after seeing where the comments turned to.
”We’ve actually gone out with them a few times, and they look happy and in love.” Alex added.
”I haven’t been around LEwis much, but I feel like he looks… happier and more content?” Lily said and looked at her boyfriend.
”Yeah, I think George said as well, he looks happy and that this relationship is doing them both a lot of good.” Alex said and Lily nodded with him. “It’s good when you get into a relationship and you become better and happier.”
”Yeah.”
Things like that kept happening, and there were some videos of you and Lewis posted online just being lost in each other while dancing, having dinner or even just walking. The way you’d give each other all the attention when you’re talking is something admirable.
All those things online, affected you, you hated how negative your space online became, how much it became on Lewis’s accounts, and on the other drivers’ accounts as well. What it didn’t affect is your relationship with Lewis.
Lewis wasn’t happy, of course he wasn’t. You’re his girlfriend and his ‘fans’ are attacking you online, he can see how your smile never reached your eyes when you said you were okay. It affected you to some degree.
So he just hugged you tighter, told you he loved you more, and tried everything to keep you away from all that talk.
“What are you doing?” You mumble as you wake up from your slumber, you went back to the hotel after FP2, feeling tired, and Lewis having to stay back for a long meeting. It was almost midnight when he made it back to the room and found you sleeping in the middle of the bed. Lewis stripped to his boxers and slipped beside you. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him, this roused you from your sleep.
”Just want to hold you.” He said softly and kissed your cheek, you smiled and cracked your eyes open just a little, you turned around so you’re facing him. You cuddle more into him, nuzzling your face in his neck, as he laid on his back.
”How was the meeting?” You asked barely coherent, and Lewis knows you’ll ask again in the morning, that everything that will come out of your mouth right now is just your subconscious and that you will remember nothing.
”It was good, there’s going to be a few changes to the car tomorrow.” Lewis told you rubbing your back.
”Do we like it?” You ask, knowing that your stance on things is his stance on things, when it comes to driving and cars.
”Yeah, but we’ll see tomorrow.”
”Hmm, that’s good.” You fall silent and Lewis thinks you fell asleep before you say a barely audible. “I love you.”
”I love you too, baby girl.”
It took time, but the public came to accept the fact you’re here to stay and you’re not just using him for a week or two, for clout or anything of that sort. IT got better. But it never went away, and you don’t think it will. You don’t plan on breaking up with Lewis any time soon and you don’t think he will. And that’s all that mattered, you’re both happy and content with what you have.
Maintaglist:
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog
#sir lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton fluff#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis x reader#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton one shot#lewis#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton#lewis imagine#lewis one shot#one shot#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 scenario#f1 x reader#team lh44#lh44#lh44 x reader#lh44 imagine#lh44 one shot#requested
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okay fuck avoiding the dance how do we get ned out of the capital alive.
i think his main obstacle here is actually littlefinger and that’s hard to get around because ned has no real reason to distrust him besides littlefinger being skeezy, and catelyn trusts littlefinger
still, if i’m ned, and i get a letter saying there’s a conspiracy against my bestie and my wife is telling me i have to get involved, i’m contacting the closest thing to a southerner i know aka wyman manderly and going “hey can i have like. some spies. actually can you just come to the capital with me” and i’m telling varys that respectfully he’s fired. if i can’t fire him - why SHOULDNT i be able to but maybe robert is being annoying - i’m having manderly at every council meeting regardless.
it's probably harder to fire renly but i still think i'm bringing someone else i trust - a riverlander maybe, someone more In Tune With The South, like Jason Mallister perhaps - to at least shadow him and see if he's doing his job.
i get why he doesn’t want to tell sansa straight up not to trust the lannisters because what if she gives something away but not telling her anything is clearly a mistake. tbh i think even at the capital is slightly too late, he needs to tell her before they leave winterfell that they can’t be trusted. getting cat to do this is probably helpful, i do imagine she would listen more to her mother than her father about something like marriage and southron politics.
i feel the same about lady, i understand he doesn’t just try to sneak her back north because that would be difficult as fuck but if he just straight up says to robert’s face “if you want me to kill that wolf for you i’m taking my entire family back north and i’m coming back south to be your hand without my kids.” like call that man's bluff right away. i think robert shows in canon that he'll yell and scream at ned but he ultimately won't actually arrest ned for shit and ned should really push his luck here when it comes to lady because if robert can't back him up over a pet, well that says something you know.
but really - just avoid leaving sansa alone with joffrey and you can avoid this? actually wait - call up a mormont to be sansa’s sworn shield. i think alysane is pregnant at this point right, so call up dacey (or lyra? is lyra a warrior too?) and be like "STICK TO SANSA LIKE WESTEROS VERSION OF GLUE." handing sansa off is maybe not the best move parenting wise but it's one i think ned would realisticaly take - give her a peer or two that understand the danger and can explain it to her in a way she understands easier. but also - have CATELYN explain to sansa literally anything.
also, get her the harp tutor she wants so she has something to focus on besides joffrey.
send someone you trust, like jory or even the blackfish (someone stannis would respect) to stannis to be like "why did you cut and run you fuck???? get your ass back here i need some goddamn help." if he refuses, pull rank because why is this man disappearing so suspiciously and not telling anyone???
the MOMENT there's a problem - something goes wrong on the trident, something is even vaguely fishy at the capital - tell robb and cat to call the banners in the north and riverlands. i'm dead ass here. maybe it's not subtle - can you do this subtlely? if you can, do it that way - but i just think it's better to not fuck around here when all you have is a letter from lysa saying "something's fucky."
DON'T TELL CERSEI YOU KNOW ABOUT THE INCEST BEFORE YOU GRAB HOLD OF THE CAPITAL. I would honestly grab her kids, force them onto a boat, and tell her "get on the boat right now or robert will kill you all and i won't be able to stop him." don't give her a choice, don't give her a chance to regroup.
#anyone else have ideas alsjdfkds#ned stark#getting on my soap box#i mean tbh also don't send to the wall. i recognizze having jon at the wall helps the nights watch and i love those idiots.#but robb needs help. he needs peple he can trust that cna tell him no. don't send jon to the wall.
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helia hates using technology and refuses to try digital art out of spite: trash
helia has tried digital art but prefers traditional art and doesn't like it when people try to force digital on him: woke
helia does digital art but he treats it like traditional painting and does everything on one layer, refuses to learn ctrl + z, and doesn't save until the very end: bespoke
#i just think helia being a little crazy#helia: if the program crashes i simply start over#bloom: you are insane please kill yourself#ajdgjlhdga#bloom wouldnt say that obviously but like aldhg#i think bloom would understand why helia prefers traditional art#but the idea of bloom trying to convince him to try digital and him just not getting it is so funny to me#bloom: you know you can undo your mistake right :) (polite) (genuinely trying to help) (bonding moment)#helia: yes by painting over it :) (polite) (enjoying having an artist friend) (hasn't used a computer in ten years)#timmy: (crying in the corner)
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Why do people pound on the door so aggressively 😭 like you owe them money
And then you open it and it's like a girl scout aggsgsgdgdgd
#marquilla#i think it was someone doing political canvasing since voting is tomorrow bc i know they did that in 2018 or 2020 idr which but they were#clearly prepared to have to convince me and theyre like asking voting shit and im like yup :) yup :) to everything both so theyd leave but#bc it was true and the guy was like okay! great! :D#or it was someone trying to get us to switch electric or gas companies and theyre such pricks ab it here too like they will not leave#and if you just straight up say youre not interested they get so aggressive ab it#one lady said she told them to go away and the guy literally sat on her porch saying he would'nt be leaving until she signed and she had to#call the cops or threaten to for him to leave. like it wasnt just someone being like okay fine well im gonna sit and rest a minute he was#being really creepy ab it 😬 our neighborhood has horror stories ab them bc they're so unhinged#ANYWAY they didnt knock again but it was so loud it scared the piss out of me#our neighbor when she gets our mail by mistake will pound on the fucking windows and she always goes for mine 😭😭😭#like bitch i cant open that one and also you KNOW which one mom opens to grab the mail anyways so stooop
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when the audhd is fun until you become "i really really really have to give my input/side/idea and i dont give a fuck who's talking or what everyone was initially talking about" and before this site's illiteracy kicks in i'm certain we're all guilty of this to some extent
#well i'm not fucking talking to you am i#this is not directed at every reader but i think even if you think ''i'm not that bad#chilllli yelps#not everything autism/adhd/audhd does is cool we do annoying shit sometimes and that's just a fact that yall dont wanna hear#it's also ok to make mistakes and it's ok for your brain to have flaws#but also when you interrupt people to say smth that either no one cared to hear. no one was even saying. or fuck maybe someone already said#it. it's a little fucking annoying and when you do it over and over and over and over sometimes people get sick of your shit#you have flaws you are imperfect and your ego will be your social death if you do not learn to allow others to speak#fuck#if people start screaming at me btw cause i said smth that's true i'm blocking and deleting that shit#work on yourself#i also know yall are gonna be like ''oh well *I* never interrupt people and when i do i apologize you should at least do a small self evalua#just a small ''well do i listen to my friends very well? do i listen to the conversation i am a part of?"#also to yall who go into discord calls and lurk but sometimes talk think ''when i speak is it actually relevant to some extent?#or if you REALLY wanna talk about it it's ok just try to find a way to segway into what you wanna talk about cause that's how conversations#work.#i dont really expect this post to go anywhere tbh i'm just kinda frustrated cause i know a lotta neurodivert people who do this and idk how#say that interrupting people is annoying and disrespectful cause i know the brain chemical gets excited when it has smth it wants to talk-#about#i love you and i want you to tell me things. i also want to say things and when you talk over me to tell me things it comes off as you not#giving a fuck what i or others even are saying cause you're taking over the conversation with your shit that's irrelevant and no one has-#mentioned#idk i think i'm tired of seeing people be disrespected all the time but not knowing a polite way to tell them that they need to wait their-#turn to speak and when it's appropriate to change the subject
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#this has been bugging me for days now but it turns out my dad’s been listening to russ*a today#which I mean. it checks out cause of what he’s been saying#but it’s so fucking frustrating I swear to god#*searching google* how to explain to someone that their main source of info on ukra*ne shouldn’t be russ*an state propaganda#like fuck dude idk have you ever considered that maybe the country invading another country would want to#perpetuate a narrative that justifies the invasion#doesn’t fucking help that my dad seems to take almost every opportunity to be all ‘b*den bad put*n good’#and what makes it worse is that my mom and I can’t say anything overly contradictory without risking starting something#(that something being getting yelled at about how we’re wrong and he’s right without being able to get a word in cause he won’t stfu)#I’m just tired dude#like one evening he was talking to my mom about politics and said something that suggested he might vote red#and I was like ‘you’re not going to be voting red in november are you’ and he was like ‘yes actually’ and so I made the mistake of engaging#and eventually we got on the topic of ukra*ne (because of course) and he’s blaming the invasion on fucking zelinsky#(idk how to spell his name exactly sorry >.>)#and like. how fucking deep do you have to be to come to that conclusion#so I tried to explain to him that putin’s literally the one who decided to invade in the first place (UNPROVOKED)#and he wouldn’t fucking listen#like I’m sorry to anyone who reads for burdening you with it or whatever but i’m just really fucking frustrated#god and don’t even get me fucking started on his shitty takes about gender and all the rest of the shit going on rn in the us#god man and in that discussion I mentioned earlier he brought of george fl*yd and ahmaud (?) arb*ry for some fucking reason#and still wants to vote red despite them being the same party that will blame those two (and several others) for their deaths#i’m frustrated and tired man
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the whole idea of punitive justice seems to be this idea that you've done something horrible, as punishment you are going to go suffer in jail. and id think that a part of that is that once you've gone through that punishment, you're now absolved of your sins, or whatever catholics do. does not seem to be the narrative most proponents hold up though- they seem continue to want offenders punished forever. i also hear people kind of think of it in terms similar to the mindset of preventative justice where they think that for example not having the right to vote functions as an incentive to not commit crimes. or that (for example) having to disclose felony status to employers resulting in not having a job is a necessary measure for the safety of hypothetical coworkers, and somehow this hypothetical felon will just find a job working in a storage container and never participate in society again. it's not always wholly contradictory to the morals of restorative justice because i think part of this mindset is that they essentially think restorative justice works and is good but only for people they already see as redeemable, and everybody who commits the bad crimes should die or be locked in a box.
#idk i was on the subreddit for my hometown (mistake) and apparently the womens prison has been giving contaminated water to inmates#and one of the (few. its a small sub) comments was pointing out that the woman who was bringing this to court#was in there for child abuse charges#and so of course all the responses to THAT are well this is awful but SHE deserves poisoned water#and it's just. so not worth it to argue with people that potentially live near me online about politics.#but GOD. YOU ARE THE REASON THIS SHIT HAPPENS. the prison staff who ignored this problem#have the EXACT SAME mindset you do. you can't dehumanize ANYBODY#btw this jail is also where pregnant inmates are kept and there might be potential miscarriages or birth defects from it#like its so clearly black and white awful and people still find a way to say prisoners deserve whatever awful treatment they get
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Sleep well, amour.
Parings: Alastor x reader
Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?
Word count: 2844
Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)
part two
A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)
Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.
You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.
“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.
“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.
“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.
“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.
After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.
While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.
He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.
“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.
His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.
“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They’re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.
“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.
“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.
Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.
“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.
Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.
While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.
“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.
“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.
Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”
She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.
He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”
After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.
“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.
Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.
“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.
One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.
You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.
“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.
“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.
Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.
“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.
“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.
“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”
You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.
Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?
“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”
Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.
“Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.
You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”
You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.
Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.
You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.
“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.
You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.
“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.
“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.
You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.
This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.
You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.
Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.
“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.
You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.
“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.
After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.
Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.
He walks over to you and looks down.
“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.
He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.
“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.
“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.
#:alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x reader#alastor the radio demon x reader#the radio demon x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader hazbin hotel#hes so pookie bear guys UGUHG#i love him sm#my works#alastor imagine#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor x you
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Sham Sacrifice
(Hi it's time for my favorite headcanon)
...
Vlad Masters sat firm and proper on the Fenton Family couch, legs crossed, teacup pinched in his fingertips, fighting subtly against the sinkhole that came with the mistake of taking Jack’s usual spot on the couch. He appeared with all the same charm and delightfulness of an ant swarm rearranging your picnic.
Danny stood at the doorway, just-still-in-the-kitchen, just not inviting himself to join the adults in the living room where Jack boomed and rambled and Vlad sat so stiff and polite and nice that his tea in his hands was going cold.
“Oh, Danny you’ll love this story—Danny, you should join us—Danny this was, what, summer of ’84? When was that heatwave, Vladdy? The one where you—”
“There’s no need to bore Daniel with the mad ravings of two old kooks, Jack. Kids would rather be off at the mall or—some store, surely. No need to stick around Daniel on my behalf. I assure you I won’t be offended if you leave.”
“No worries, V-man. I’m good right here. I love hearing Dad’s stories." Danny met Vlad's challenge, speaking with more poisonous courtesy than Vlad had proffered first. "In fact I think he should tell a few more, if he’s got more in mind.”
“In fact I do have more in mind—” Jack answered.
Neither Danny nor Vlad were listening to Jack. They held eye-contact, Danny with a stern unblinkingness of a sheepdog on duty. A lot was said without words. A lot was understood when Vlad decided to visit through the front door. Vlad only used the front door when he wanted something.
And it was never good when Vlad wanted something.
“—the core reactor project, yeah? That summer? That was in the lab with no A/C. Top floor. We were sweating like pigs, all of us. And I dared you to eat the really moldy pizza from our fridge the night before and you ralphed right into—”
“—Surely you remember this more fondly than I do. Daniel, really, you can go.”
Not a chance.
“Actually,” Danny answered, brightening some as his opportunity struck. “I am interested in this. For science class I need to write a report on the invention of an important piece of technology. I was gonna ask Mom and Dad about the Ghost Portal. And now that you’re here, I can get the whole history.”
Jack made a giddy little noise. He leaned forward, words primed, but Vlad was quicker to the draw.
“Sorry to say, your faith in me is unfounded. I wasn’t the portal guy back in college—that was always your mother and father’s passion project. I was their skeptic.”
“Bet that’s got you feeling pretty foolish right now, doesn’t it V-man?” Jack chided, a quick jab to Vlad’s ribs that nearly unseated the teacup from his suspended saucer. “Considering the fully-functioning portal right beneath our toes.”
“I hardly feel foolish, Jack. Your calculation for the portal in college was never going to work.”
“What do you mean? Of course it did.” Jack thumped the ground with his foot. “It’s running the old girl right now.”
At this, Vlad’s eyes narrowed. For the first time he’d been shaken off whatever skeezy machinations had brought him in. His pride was being challenged, and by Jack no less.
“Absolutely not. With that calculation? Absolutely not.”
“Well forget the tea biscuits Vlad, because you’re going to be eating your words in a second. Mads, hold my spot,” Jack said, as if anyone was planning to take his spot. He bounced from the couch, scooted from the living room, and vanished into the dark maw of the lab stairs, leaving only the waning beat of his footsteps behind.
His absence filled only a swallowing few seconds. The footsteps returned, bounding upward, creaking with his heavy cadence, and Jack bounced back into the room in much the manner he left. A pad of yellow lined paper was clutched in his hand. When he dropped it on the coffee table, it revealed row after row of tight scribble, churning math, carrying down the page and occupying two entire pages more that Jack flipped through.
“Same baby I came up with in college. It just needed heavier dampening and higher voltage than what we made back then. The portal downstairs has that in spades. Well, in like two-thirds of a spade.” Jack tapped something on the last line. “The projection was still only hitting 70% of the threshold we calculated to reach dimension penetration. But it’s an art, not just a science. We fired it up anyway, and it took!”
Vlad grabbed the paper pad, agitated. His eyes ran over it. Then again. Until he settled on one line, a firmness overcoming his face. He tossed the pad back onto the coffee table, and Vlad leaned back into the couch, arms crossed.
“The lambda, Jack.”
“The lambda?”
“Check it again.”
Jack did, lips pursed, pad of paper nearly swallowed in his big meaty hand.
“What about--?”
“It squares. The units don’t balance otherwise. It originates from an integration step of λ*∂λ/∂t. It squares.”
Jack’s brow remained furrowed, firm, until delight cracked into his eyes, and he let out a laugh.
“Gods, my handwriting is gonna be the death of us. Mads,” he tapped something unseen on the second page. “That’s the genius of Vladdy. Cracked this puppy wide open with just a glance. I never noticed that in all my checking. That explains the missing 30%, at least. That explains how the portal took. Lucky for you Danny that Vlad was here—”
“Jack,” Maddie said.
“—your report can have the correct formula. It’ll be—”
“—Jack—”
“—A+ worthy—”
“—Jack,” Maddie said, curt. “Lambda is the ambient ecto-energy. It’s a few ten-thousandths of a unit.”
“It—huh.”
Maddie had surfaced a pen from her pocket. She sheared a few blank pages out from the back of the pad and started the formula fresh. She made quick work of copying it over, quicker work of solving it through – lambda-squared intact.
She hit the final line and hatched a pen mark beneath the number. Jack stared, confused.
“That can’t… no.”
He repeated the same. New pages torn loose. Formula copied over, processed, line by line by line—lambda squared—by line by line by line.
Jack settled on his answer. Same as Maddie’s.
Confusion made his face tense.
“So it’s not 70% of the way to the threshold… It’s 0.013% of the way to the threshold.”
He held the pen hard, his whole body holding firm and taut as the gears turned in his head. Jack’s eyes flickered across the formula, again and again and again. He looked to Maddie, like a dog issued a command he did not understand.
“But it worked,” he said, small. “But it worked.”
Jack stood, robotic almost, eyes lost in something far away. He disappeared into the lab almost as quickly as he had a few minutes before, but now he exited with a smoothness and a quietness so very uncharacteristic of him. It bothered Danny, somewhere deep in his gut.
Maddie followed, a possession matching Jack’s.
Danny’s fingers curled and uncurled. He’d succeeded. He’s successfully interrupted Vlad’s… whatever this was. But the disquiet infected him. He didn’t like it.
“So what does that mean?” Danny asked, perhaps to Vlad. “What’s wrong with the calculation?”
Vlad sipped on tea ice cold.
“Who knows?” Vlad lied.
…
The math didn’t work.
Maddie and Jack burned through paper, burned through pencils, burned through hours.
The math didn’t work.
Clothes stuck to skin. Sweat lingered fetid and stale in the cold basement air. Exhaustion beat like a slurry through their veins.
The math didn’t work.
The portal supervised all, placidly green, the light for their table, the light for their work when the lightbulb overhead burnt clean out and neither Jack nor Maddie could be pulled away to replace it. It stood, it watched, a testament of contradiction to everything they could not solve on paper, and yet everything they built directly into the fabric of reality.
And it should never have worked.
They threw every radical what-if they’d ever conceived over 20 years of ghost research.
The ecto-ether layer.
The latent activation stitches in space fabric.
The anti-ectomatter collision proposal.
The positive-feedback crystallization theory.
And still nothing worked.
All together, every crackpot theory in their favor taken for granted, racked them up to an activation energy 200x more potent than the calculation, and still just 2% of what would be needed to rip open, and hold open, a stable fissure between their reality and the ghost zone.
Maybe by pure luck, unfathomable luck, Fentonworks basement was directly situated atop a natural portal.
Maybe that would explain ripping it open. It did nothing to explain the stability. Natural portals were unstable by definition. There and gone in a few seconds. Not hours, days, weeks, months, a year, that the Fenton Portal had been open. Never so much as faltering.
It was late. 3am ticked away to 4am, and 4:30am. The discarded paper stacked higher than Jack and Maddie both. Calluses oozed from their hands at another attempt, and another, and another.
Maddie flipped through a folder’s worth of yellowed papers, aggressively thumbed over and over after two decades left untouched. And she settled on the one she’d passed over a few dozen times already, always seeking something else, something better.
This time she unsheathed it, and she placed it on the lab table.
“…If a mouse died. In the machine. If a mouse ran through the machine and accidentally bridged two live wires, and died of violent electrocution. 500 milliamps. Instantly melted into the circuitry.”
Maddie’s mouth was cotton-dry while she wrote. Ambient ecto-energy was low. Always very, very low.
Unless something very, very bad happened to something with the capacity to become a ghost.
The numbers wove. Maddie started the formula fresh, and it was pure muscle memory. A mouse. A big mouse, even. A 99th percentile beast of a mouse. And a wire that had been wired incorrectly. Something grounded that never actually grounded. An absolutely horrific amount of electricity.
0.37%, by pure numbers. If she included every permissive crackpot idea they had thrown on top, it topped out at 6% of the needed activation threshold.
Not a mouse.
“A cat,” Jack said, words gummy, tongue dry, face tired. “If we’ve got mice down here, maybe… a stray cat wandered in. Chased the mouse.”
Maddie nodded. It didn’t matter if it made sense.
She penned it in. A large cat. A devastating electrical short. Cats carried more ecto-potential than mice did. Ecto-potential did not necessarily go up with size. It went up with complexity. The things with the most ecto-potential were the things that most became ghosts.
1.45%, by pure numbers. 18% at absolute, absolute crackpot best.
“A dog,” Jack proposed with a shaky laugh. He swallowed. “A mouse… chased by a cat… chased by a dog… all electrocuted at once”
Maddie didn’t say the thing they both knew, which was that both of them would have noticed the evidence left behind by the electrically exploded pieces of a dog.
Maddie did it anyway. A mouse and a cat and a medium-sized dog, maybe just small enough to notice no evidence of, all together. All at once. All violently ripped apart, sacrificed to a machine still asleep in its wall.
Mice did not often make ghosts. Cats did not either. Dogs, occasionally. But infrequently. Very infrequently.
37%. At best.
“Jack.”
“Maddie, I know just—maybe something really smart—”
“—Jack—”
“—like an octopus—”
“Jack.”
“I hear, maybe, pigs are smart. If it was—”
Maddie was writing, already. Not for a pig. Not an octopus. Jack watched, and he knew what the numbers meant. The ecto-potential she penned gave her away. An ecto-potential that high.
65kg, an estimate
10,000 milliamps, a catastrophic accident, a death certificate.
A human’s amount of ecto-potential.
Maddie wrote.
And she wrote.
And she did not apply a single crackpot theory, not a single discredited proposal, not an ounce of exaggeration.
138%.
Threshold, and then some.
Comfortable, easily, then some.
For the first time, after all the hundreds of times she and Jack had penned this equation over the course of 2 decades, the number met her and Jack’s threshold.
A breakthrough.
A revelation.
A pure eureka moment.
Jack and Maddie were silent.
Alone in a humming basement. Alone with only the soft swirls of the portal for company, happy, stable, purring its contentment, singing to the cold air.
“It has to be something else,” Maddie said. And she said it weakly. And she said it childishly.
“You’re right. It can’t be this,” Jack echoed. “If someone died down here, we’d know. Dead bodies don’t walk away. We’d have seen it. O-or even if, if the body got stuck in the portal, we’d have heard of someone going missing.”
Maddie sat, quiet. A thought held her mind hostage.
“Unless they didn’t go missing,” Maddie said, and she said it barely audibly. “Unless the portal spit them right back out.”
“Then—that’s what I said—a dead body, on the floor, we’d have seen.”
“Not a dead body.”
“It had to be lethal, Mads—”
“I know Jack. But if they died, here, in the portal Jack, then their ghost did not get ripped away from the body and sent to the Ghost Zone. …They ripped the Ghost Zone here.” Palms slick with sweat smoothed over her notes. She pointed to one specific line and found her pen tip trembled no matter how badly she stabilized it. “The ecto-potential of a creature is how strong of a pull their ghost creates on the Ghost Zone. A strong enough pull means the ghost can reach the Ghost Zone and stabilize, like a fish reeling itself up, yeah? We agree on this Jack, yes?”
“Yes,” Jack answered.
“It’s what makes the math even work, Jack. Someone dying in the portal didn’t reel themselves to the boat. They reeled the boat in. Jack, they brought the Ghost Zone here…” Maddie wasn’t breathing right. She pulled sweat-soaked bangs away from her face. “Their ghost never left their body Jack. They died, Jack. And they walked back out.”
“…No. No,” Jack said. “No, they didn’t.”
“Then what?” Maddie asked.
Jack stared. He looked away. He didn’t like the expression on Maddie’s face.
“It—what about the ecto-ether theory?” Jack said, of the theory they’d tested and retested and tested all over, all night. He grabbed his pencil back up and pointed it aimlessly at Maddie’s piece of paper, pointed end out in self-defense. “If the ecto-ether is maybe… if it’s only 250-times stronger than we calculated. Then it could…”
Jack’s voice died. His pencil hung idle. Maddie’s paper remained unblemished.
“If it… was a pig,” Jack offered. “If it was a pig that died in the portal.”
“How, Jack? How would a pig get in? We lock all the doors at night, Jack. No one else can get in, Jack. It’s just us, Jack.”
Jack and Maddie were not there when the portal turned on.
Maddie’s statement carried two possibilities. Only two. Both felt like claws digging all the flesh right out of Jack’s heart.
“I want… I want to try the ecto-ether theory again,” Jack choked. “I think it’s the ecto-ether. I think it’ll work.”
Jack slid a piece of paper over, already covered in scribbles. In its single untouched corner, he started the equation for the several-thousandth time that night.
Above their head, birds were singing.
Sunrise hailed unseen from the windowless laboratory.
…
At 6am, Vlad answered his cell phone. The reception crackled, struggling through the layers of sheetrock above his head.
“Vlad?” Maddie’s voice crackled. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“Not at all my dear.” Vlad leaned his weight against the wall, playing with the singsong melody in his voice. “But you sound exhausted. Is anything the matter?”
“Yes. Well… Yes. Jack and I have—all night—trying to fix the equation.”
“Naturally.”
“We found something that maybe works.”
“Oh?” Vlad asked. He straightened, pacing now, cracklingly attentive. “And what might that—”
“If someone died. Activating the portal. We have an on-switch inside the portal’s interior. The trigger we use to press it is external to the portal, of course. But if someone went inside the portal, and they pressed it directly, and if they died, and pulled the Ghost Zone here—”
Vlad’s red eyes reflected pools of iridescent green. He twirled his free hand in the fringes of his cape, tongue working over the fanged edges of his teeth. He stared, consumed, forward.
“—and just, you, I was thinking, you’re the only other expert I’d trust to… maybe weigh in.”
“What does Jack think?”
“He denies it. He’s still. He’s trying other theories.”
“Well who knows, surely? The answer may lie somewhere you haven’t looked.”
“…I’ve looked everywhere, Vlad. That's the thing. There is no more ‘somewhere else’. I’ve looked.”
“You sound like your mind is made up.”
“I just… if maybe you have some idea.”
“Am I meant to talk you out of this idea?”
“Vlad.”
“Do you think I have some secret information you don’t? Sorry to say, I’m just your skeptic.” Some noise came through muffled from the other side. Vlad flashed a smile. “But…as your skeptic I will offer you this—It all sounds a bit absurd, doesn’t it? To kill someone and have them come back intact and… for you to never notice? Who would they be? How would they be? Surely not human anymore, surely. How would you never notice?”
Vlad paced forward, booted feet clicking along his laboratory floor.
“It would be ridiculous,” he continued, with a building crescendo, “so unfathomably self-centered surely, to not notice something like that befall someone so close to you, who died at the hands of your own invention? …If I’m correctly inferring who, in your household, you suspect of having activated the portal?” Vlad’s tongue lingered along his teeth.
Maddie’s line held, quiet. And the seconds of static drew long.
“Ah, apologies. I’ve overstepped,” Vlad continued. “I meant this as a vote of confidence in you. You and Jack both. Two people as attentive, caring, compassionate as yourselves. You would notice. I promise.”
“You’re… Okay, thank you, Vlad. I appreciate it.”
“Is there anything else, my dear?”
“No. No. Thank you, Vlad. I’ll think about this.”
Maddie’s line clicked dead. A chuckle built to Vlad’s lips and he let his head tip back with mirth. It lasted only a moment. He stowed his phone. And as if the interruption had never happened, Vlad reaffixed his attention on his own portal swirling in front of him. It bathed him, swimming green, purring contentment.
And Vlad vanished into his portal.
(Chapter 2)
#danny phantom#dp#dp fanfiction#GIVES YOU THIS GIVES YOU THIS GIVES YOU THIS#its my favorite headcanon so here you get a fic of it
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Napping and Cooking
Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Straw hat!reader
Characters: Vinsmoke Sanji, Straw hat!reader, Monkey D. Luffy, Roronora Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Arlong
Warnings: Fluff, fighting, the asshole Arlong, Sanji being subtlety flustered, you take lots of naps, Sanji being adorable as hell, everyone worrying over you, protect Nami plan is a go, Sanji being like a boyfriend but nothing's official
Word Count: 1,849
A/N: Reader sleeps a lot because her abilities take up a lot of her energy.
Reader also had a lot of hair and it sometimes gets in their face so she has to flip their head upside down and then back up or run their hand through their hair to see.
Reader has a jacket like Mihawk but it goes down to her knees otherwise she'll trip
This man... is something else
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You enter the restaurant and slip past the host in search of your crew. You can hear Luffy and know exactly where they are. You stand in front of the table, "you guys ditched me."
"You were still sleeping," says Luffy.
"You didn't wake me up," you tell them with a pout.
"We tried to," Nami tells you.
"You’re the one that wouldn’t wake up," Zoro adds, glancing at you; wondering if you’ll even make it through the meal.
-
Sanji glances your way and notices your figure standing in front of an unattended table.
He admires your jacket as he heads over.
-
"Fine, you tried. Now move over, stretchy." You try to move him only to fail, which your captain laughs at. You roll your eyes and walk over him, Usopp being kind enough to scooch over, so you have room.
You sit at the top of the booth. You didn't realize it, but you zoned out until Nami smacked your leg. Your jaw drops as you rub the spot. "Ow. Was that necessary?"
She gestures to the blond standing in front of the table.
"And for the madam?"
"What are we doing?"
Nami and Zoro roll their eyes.
"We're ordering our drinks," Usopp tells you.
"Ah, right. Water."
"And would the madam like stilled, sparkling, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"
The corner of your lip twitches. "Well, aren’t we sweet? You want to please all the ladies you, see?"
His head drops, he glances at the ground before looking back up, staring at you through his lashes and hair. "Only the ones who entice me with their beauty."
"I'll let you surprise me."
"Excellent choice, madam. You will not be let down."
"I know I won't."
"What was that?" Zoro asks.
"What?" You turn to him.
He starts rattling off everything Sanji said.
"He was being polite."
"To you," the orange haired girl mutters.
"Huh?"
"He only called me madam once and then you stole his attention. Clearly there was something about you that caught his eye."
"I don’t think so."
Every single kind of water he offered was brought to the table.
-
After Zoro loses the battle and the head chef along with the blond come in to help him, you two start talking each time he's here.
"I smell food," you lean against the doorway.
He chuckles, "I would certainly hope so. You're the only one who hasn't eaten. Are you worried that worried about your friend?"
"Of course, I'm worried about the idiot but not enough to lose too much sleep over him. My abilities take up a lot of my energy and sleeping helps me. I was napping."
He nods, "ah, now that makes sense." He glances up from the ingredients he grabbed. "Would you like to eat something?"
You nod, "I would, kind of why I came down here."
"I know. How do you feel about exposing your palate to an array of flavors?"
"I think I made a mistake."
He shakes his head, smiling. "Nonsense. I'm going to make you an unforgettable meal."
-
You were up on the roof when Argon and his crew entered.
You secure the rope around your waist before jumping down. "Why are you picking on people less than half your size?"
"Who are you?"
"Someone who's already kicked your bony nosed ass."
He growls, realizing who you are.
"You want to fight someone? Fight me," you smirk. "I'm a better opponent than stretchy." You tug at the rope, rolling it up. "Come on, then. Try to hit me."
He comes at you, and you dodge him.
Again.
And again.
And again.
He growls before his hand clamps down on your jacket (something you made sure happened on purpose).
"Don't touch my jacket."
"Why? You gonna cry if I do."
"No," you grab his hand and twist his wrist, "you might. Clone shift."
He's baffled at the sight of him, standing before him. "Stop it. Turn back."
"Nope."
He and Luffy are outside before you can stop him.
"Hey, you two idiots."
His crew turns to you, eyes widening at the sight of their captain even though he just walked out the door.
You punch the two of them hard enough for them to roll on the dock outside the restaurant.
-
You walk over to check on Sanji and Usopp, the former taking a big hit on his back.
"Are you two-" you groan and hold onto the railing as you shift back to yourself.
Blood catches the story teller's eye. "Did you take some of Zoro's cut?"
All the pain in his body left him as the blond urges forward to catch you.
"So, what? It's nothing. I can take it."
"You overexerted yourself enough already. Come on," Sanji says, helping you up.
"Are we going to help Luffy?"
"We are, you're not."
You let out a small disagreeing noise.
"Don't argue with me."
-
You all catch the sight of the energetic captain falling into the water and rush over.
Sanji's quicker than you and takes action. He throws off his shirt and jacket before diving in.
You force yourself to stay awake and not pass out.
His head pops up back in the surface.
Usopp helps haul the rubber man onto the dock.
You hold a handout for the chef, but he doesn't take it. "Where's Nami?"
"She's gone. She's apart of Arlong's crew," Usopp tells Luffy.
Sanji's body slumps down, his butt resting on the heels of his feet.
Dots cloud your vision and your feet sway, you knew the second you cloned, you were done.
Sanji and Usopp catch you before you could fall.
The blond man leaning down to listen to your heartbeat and make sure you're- "She's still breathing."
"She," Luffy takes a deep breath, his voice coming out scratchy. "She did too much."
"We need to get you two back on your ship."
-
You wake up and find yourself in your room.
You sit up, finding no one else here.
You grab your jacket and make your way to the kitchen.
-
"He convinced you?"
Sanji jumps, not expecting you to be awake. "Are you hungry?"
You nod and slowly make your way over to the couch. "No objections. I'll take whatever the chef makes."
"That can get dangerous if you say that to the wrong person."
"Good thing I'm just talking to you."
The corner of his lips twitch as gets back to work.
"Hey, I just-" Usopp smiles when he sees you here. "You're up. How're feeling?"
"Hungry and tired."
"The usual, cool. I wasn't worried, at all." He stops in front of the chef. "What's new on today's menu?"
"Not for you."
He gasps, "rude. I fought in that battle too, you know."
"You crawled away like a bug being found under a log."
He whines when you out him.
The other two enter the kitchen.
Zoro glances at you, "you're an idiot."
"Way to make a girl feel special asshole."
"You're going to have a scar."
"You're welcome for making sure you don't die because of your own mistake, moron."
He leans against the wall, watching over everyone.
Luffy stretches his arms out to hug you, letting his body slam into you. "You're awake. Are you okay? You passed out. Is that always normal?"
Usopp smacks the captain, "get off her. She just woke up, you're not helping."
"Food is ready."
"Time to eat!"
"No," Sanji smacks Luffy with the dish towel. "The lady gets hers first."
You stick your tongue out at your friend. "I knew I liked you for a reason."
"Other than my good looks."
The green haired man rolls his eyes, "would you stop flirting and feed the idiot before he steals the food."
"Not until the lady gets hers."
"The lady will be fine."
"You call yourself a man. A true man would make sure-"
You flick the two of them on their foreheads. "Shut up."
You give Luffy and Usopp their bowls, "eat you animals."
-
"Oh, we told the town of your sacrifice," you explain to Nami.
"We didn't know. Could you ever forgive us?" The guard asks.
"This is going to be a massacre," the orange haired girl says.
"For them," you crack your knuckles. "I got this."
Usopp thins his lips, "I don't think so. You're just gonna lose consciousness again."
"Why don't I knock you unconscious?"
Sanji steps forward and pulls you off the side. "Excuse her, she was woken up from a nap." He covers your ears. "She's cranky."
You smack his hands off you.
-
You sit on the wall, watching as everyone fights. It was the smart move, save more of your energy.
It was only when they started bad mouthing Nami that you really started getting fired up. "Woah! Hey! Hey!" You grab a rock and throw it at the fishman's head. "Don't bad mouth my friend!"
Sanji removes his jacket without removing his gaze.
"Now you've done it," Zoro mumbles.
You jump down and walk towards the green haired man.
Sanji doesn't stop until the fishman has been taken care of.
Zoro judges the chef, with him calling out his finishing move.
"Ignore him. You did good, Sanji."
He lowers his head, unable to respond to your comment.
Zoro shakes his head, not in the mood to deal with his pining.
Usopp makes his way back to you.
"Nice of you to join us."
The storyteller smiles. "Yeah, just- uh- wish I didn't miss so much of this."
You glance at Zoro and raise a brow, both of you knowing that he doesn't mean it.
The green haired man just gives him a look of disappointment.
Nami runs away from the deteriorating building and glances back over her shoulder. She turns back and runs towards you guys.
Sanji opens his arms with a smile, "Nami!"
She ignores him and throws her arms around the second in command and storyteller.
You offer him a sorry look before turning around at the sound of her calling your name. "Are you okay?" You ask.
Instead of replying she throws her arms around you, holding you tightly. "Thank you."
"Why?"
"You and Luffy gave me something I never thought I could have."
You smile. "Alright kid, get off me." You wipe her under eyes, making sure no one knew how much she was crying. You pat Sanji's shoulder, "she just doesn't know you yet."
"That would make sense."
"Where's Luffy?"
"He's still in there, fighting Arlong."
You huff, "why can't he wait for help?" You groan and start to take a step forward when they stop you.
The chef grabs your wrist and pulls you back. "Nope."
"Are you nuts?" Usopp asks. "I mean seriously. You want to fight that fishman?!"
"I'm not going to let Luffy-" The building collapses. "Great! My oldest friend is-"
"Nami! We are you're friends! We are your crew!"
"Still alive! Yay!" You jump up and down before throwing yourself into the blond's arms.
"Look who finally got their hug."
"Shut up, Nami."
Continue to: Part II
#one piece#one piece live action#one piece netflix#one piece x reader#one piece x you#one piece imagine#one piece imagines#one piece fanfiction#one piece fanfic#sanji x reader#sanji x you#sanji imagine#sanji imagines#sanji fanfic#sanji fanfiction#vinsmoke sanji#vinsmoke sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji x you#crazyk-imagine
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bonus! i said i wasn't posting anything new til this weekend but i just got up to s5 e2 and spencer reid with that lollipop has made me insane, here's a drabble i just wrote in like 30 mins. barely edited, hot off the presses, hope u like
sucker
~500 words
Who the hell let this man have a lollipop in the workplace?
You could kill Garcia.
You’re trying to act normal– trying so hard– but he looks so good. His hair is longer than it's ever been, so beautifully curly at the ends and you just know it’s soft. You need to test the theory but you can’t and it kills you on even a regular day.
But today is a thousand times worse. There’s something about Spencer since he got shot, he just seems to give less of a shit. It definitely shouldn’t be as attractive as it is.
It doesn’t help that you’d come in to tell him that you all had to be on the jet in thirty, and then he and Garcia had started asking questions, so Spencer’s been looking up at you from his chair for the past few minutes and something about it is getting to you.
So yeah, you’re trying not to get so immediately caught for staring at Spencer as he wraps his lips around the lollipop again, but you’re also not about to miss a single second of it. You’re not about to do yourself that disservice.
You clear your throat as the news broadcast about your unsub ends. “Right. So we’re going to Louisville.”
Spencer moves to get up, finally. Popping the candy in his mouth, he waves one– large, long-fingered– hand at Garcia and reaches for his crutches.
What is wrong with you?? You need to get it together before you’re stuck on the jet with pretty boy and all of the most astute people-readers in the Western hemisphere.
God, you hate your life. If the universe was kind and loving it wouldn’t have had you meet Spencer in the behavioral analysis unit. If the universe was kind and loving, Spencer would be yours already.
This was some kind of cosmic joke.
“You good?” he asks. He took the lollipop out of his mouth to speak to you, his eyebrows raised in the most annoyingly attractive way.
“Yeah?” you scoff, as if he’s the one being weird.
“Okay. Cause you told me we have to leave and now somehow you can’t keep up with the guy on crutches,” he muses from the doorway, while you haven’t moved an inch.
This man. If he wasn’t injured you would hurt him. You might just do it anyway.
You shoot him a sarcastic smile. “I was being polite.”
“How chivalrous of you,” he says, putting the candy back in his mouth and crutching his way down the hall without a second glance.
You look at Garcia, and it’s a mistake. You can read her like a book. “Don’t,” you warn, pointing at her, and she presses her lips together but is clearly smiling behind them. “And I am so mad at you for that,” you add, gesturing after him.
“Wh– he just took one, it’s not like I–”
“Save it!” you call, already halfway out the room. You hear her laugh behind you, and shake your head. You love that girl, but she was not doing you any favors.
Fuck it.
You breeze past Spencer in the hallway. “Keep up, pretty boy.”
You hear his indignant, playful scoff behind you, and you can’t help the smirk that creeps onto your face.
#im so sorry like i cant be normal about this LOOK AT HIM#good god#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#my fics
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Hi dear, how are you?, could you write an imagine onde reader mentioning offhand how much she would love a whole family. Four, maybe six children? Girls and boys split right down the middle, but the second Miguel hears this (maybe the reader is on the phone, or talking to lyla. or someone at HQ) and Miguel loses his mind
1) Miguel can't help himself and he would grab you and put you on the mattress for a very long time...... or
2) torture himself for two weeks before telling her why he was avoiding her please.
HIHIHI BREEDING BARK BARK (sorry this took so long to write anon zehfrfgh i pulled an all nighter to make this one so also forgive me if there are some mistakes in this gksffgjgbf)
summary : miguel learns you want kids, a lot of kids, so he breeds you
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex - unprotected (be safe kids), breeding kink, soft!dom miguel, obsessive!miguel, no use of Y/N, fem!reader
word count : 3,2k
tag list : @fandom-ash @haradasaya
Miguel was on his way to see you. He'd heard that you were back from your mission and that everything had gone well, so he'd come to get you to take you out for lunch.
He was taking advantage of the little free time he had to visit you, even though he would obviously pass this visit off as work-related in everyone's eyes. He had to always, always remain professional and keep everything under control so that everybody could do their bit.
"Six?!" asked Jess, the word choking in her throat.
Well, you were indeed back with Jess.
"Mhm, six," you affirmed as you both busied yourselves filing a report.
What were they talking about? He leaned against a wall. He knew it wasn't very polite to eavesdrop, but the word got around here. Most of society's building had cameras, and everything that was often said or done was recorded here.
He just wanted to listen to you, wondering if there were any topics of conversation that you weren't having with him and with the other spiders. Yes, he was manic, and probably a little too obsessive.
In any case, he wondered what you could have said to Jessica to make her exclaim like that.
"The more the merrier," you laughed softly.
"I hate this sentence so much," sighed Jess.
"Why so?" your voice was sincerely interrogative.
"In this context, it's really not my preferred idiom one might say," she replied as Miguel heard her tapping on a pad to enter more information.
What on earth could they be talking about? he wondered. What subject could suggest that six was far too high a number for Jess's judgement? He knew that Jess was an oragnised woman like himself, with a lot of tact and a fair amount of authority.
Was it perhaps a consecutive number of days doing an activity? Six days of marathon running might have been a bit much, but six days' holiday was never too much. He breathed in very softly, it had been years since he'd had time for such a thing. Did you want to take him on a holiday? If so, the number of days was inordinate. He would never be able to get away from his work for more than three days.
Maybe it was something else then. What was too much in Jess's mind with six?
Six empanadas perhaps? Miguel would obviously disagree. You can never have enough empanada for his taste. But Jess would probably disapprove.
Six... Six pets? It's true that having six pets might be a bit of an exaggeration, at least in Miguel's eyes of course.
Perhaps six books? No, that didn't make sense. Although Jess wasn't a huge reader, she did have a book in her hands from time to time.
So what was it? He was intrigued, that's for sure.
"You know, in my opinion, one kid is already way too much to handle," she sighed, "but six ? Nah, that's some good way of ending your life while still being alive."
But Miguel had barely heard the rest of the sentence, his mind having been caught by a single word: kid. He immediately froze, his heart skipping a beat.
Kid, like... children ? Like, actual human beings ? Small human beings ?
His eyes were wide, his mouth parted. No, he must not have heard correctly, although he dreamed that it was indeed that word that had been uttered.
"Why not? Surrounding ourselves with life is good," you said softly. "I'd love to see six little heads running around. I want three of each, three girls and three boys."
He wasn't mistaken: the discussion was really about the number of children you wanted. Six, he thought, six, six, the word echoing in his mind. He put both his hands on his hips, as if to hold on to something.
He pictured you, your rounded belly, stroking the hair of a child, your child, his child... both your children.
He swallowed, however, as another, immensely more tantalising vision took hold of his mind.
The vision of your cunt, glistening with your desire as from between its lips dripped little by little his own cum, his own seed leaking from you, your belly full of him...
It made his dick twitch for a hot second, and he couldn't remove that image, he didn't want to get rid of that image. The idea that your belly could be full of him, that he could breed you until he had no strength left was magnificent.
"What an egalitarian spirit," Jess noted wryly, "Well, it's all in order."
His thoughts were riveted on the image. He could almost hear in his own mind the sweet melody your moans would make as he came inside you again.
No, it was now impossible for him to think about anything else, he told himself that maybe he shouldn't be thinking about this. Except it's a well-known fact that if you tell someone not to think about something, they'll think about it.
He knew what breeding was, obviously, but what about you? Did you even have a clue what it was?
He tried to pull himself together, he had to either leave here or come towards you and pretend to come naturally. Would he be able to hold it together and act as if nothing had happened? Did he really have a choice in the matter after all? He breathed in, tightening his jaw as he decided to come towards you.
He walked purposefully, his usual grumpy face set surprisingly naturally as he advanced towards you.
"Ah, you're back," he sighed as if pleasantly surprised to see you both here, "how was the mission?"
"Excellent," Jess affirmed, "we've just finished the report, the anomaly has been taken care of as it should have been since we arrived."
He nodded, his serious face opening a control pad to check what she was saying and opening the file in question, pretending to read its contents. He had the impression that everywhere he looked the image came right back to him, on every tile, on every screen, everywhere in his mind.
"That's good work," he breathed.
"Damn right," nodded Jess. " Well, I'm off to join my own little demon, take care you two."
"See ya," you replied as she headed for the exit.
He wondered by what superhuman strength he managed to remain unwavering and stoic.
You moved closer to him, hugging his back and comforting yourself in the embrace.
"How was your day?" you asked, squeezing him in your arms.
Unwavering and stoic, Miguel, you have to remain unwavering and stoic.
You put your hands on his body, and with one touch his concentration was simply wiped out.
He turned to you, smiling a strange, uncertain smile as he stroked your hair, a little tense.
"You know how it is, just a lot of work," but his eyes were watching yours strangely, a flash of a vision where they were filled with desire looking back at him.
You studied him for a moment, noticing how distracted he seemed, his eyes looking at you in a strange way. You could feel a kind of desire there, a kind of longing, but you couldn't work out what it was.
"Is... everything alright?"
He shuddered, obviously his little show wasn't going to last much longer. He broke away from your embrace, he couldn't keep looking at you like that.
"Hey," you said softly, "you know you can tell me everything, right?"
Could I tell you this ? he wondered. He looked at you for a moment, another flash of you all moaning and covered in hickeys and marks on your body as you breathed his name. He looked away, closing his eyes in the hopes the flashes would stop.
"I'm afraid I cannot speak about this..."
But how he wanted to speak about this, to tell you how much he wanted to fuck you until you were full of him, until the only thing present in your mouth was his name and how much he wanted to see the sight of your round belly.
But you wouldn't listen to his silence. So you walked over to him and took his hand.
"Miguel, look at me. you asked, and he looked at you, his visions mingling with the reality where you were looking at him, worried. "Tell me."
He sighed. He couldn't run away from his ideas forever, run away from these images that he wanted to see in reality and not just in his mind. He wanted to raise his idea from the theoretical to the practical, and it was with an almost guilty breath that he admitted:
"I want to breed you."
There was a slight silence, his eyes plunged into yours, desperate to know what you were thinking. But above all he was met with confusion.
"What's breeding?" You had an idea of the term, usually used animalistically for the subject of... reproduction and maintenance of species. But just to be on the safe side with Miguel, you preferred to ask him anyway.
His lungs swelled like sails, did he really have to go through this?
"Why don't you ask Lyla what it is?" he suggested.
"Because I want to hear it from you, with your words" you assured him, your tone a mixture of strictness and curiosity.
He sighed, biting the inside of his cheek, slightly afraid of your reaction. You were practically hanging on his every word, waiting for him to explain.
"Breeding is... the act of a male and a female animal having sex, also known as mating, to reproduce..." he explained, pausing, "and procreate."
Your eyes widened slightly, and the possibility that he had overheard your previous conversation with Jess came to mind. All the same, you looked at him almost inscrutably, and he couldn't work out what you were thinking.
But now that the words had been said, he could no longer hide, no, he no longer had to hide. His thoughts were finally out, burning on his skin and lips.
He moved forward a little more, his gaze suddenly darkened by the desires he was no longer hiding.
"I want to fill you up with my cum and make sure you get pregnant."
Your lips were parted, your surprised eyes looking into his, black with desire and longing. A silence filled the air, both your hearts beating loudly in both your bodies. Miguel waited for an answer, unaware of the warm cloud that had settled in your lower belly.
He chuckled a little, an understanding smile gracing his lips as he said:
"See, your silence tells me enoug-"
"Breed me," you cut him off.
He stopped moving immediately, the statement immobilising him just like when he had understood what you and Jess were talking about.
Had his mind and his fantasies come together to play tricks on him? Or had you actually agreed with what he'd just said?
"What?" he said, his pronunciation almost slurred as he turned his attention to your next words.
"Breed me, Miguel" you repeated, determined as you swallowed in anticipation. "I want to carry you... in me."
The gleam in his eyes was almost predatory, but after all, wasn't that the very essence of breeding? The raw nature of it, the bestiality, the quenching of the oldest instinct that ever was.
You only had time to see his eyes turn red as he lunged for your lips, kissing you with his mouth wide open as your teeth almost clashed and he attacked your tongue.
The power with which he kissed you made you take a step backwards, but you weren't going anywhere, because Miguel immediately placed his hand in the small of your back to make sure he had you close to him.
He let out grunts between kisses, his hunger for your skin lengthening his canines as they brushed almost dangerously against your tongue.
Then he lifted you in one swift movement, placing you on his shoulder as he headed for the door leading to his quarters, his impatience growing faster than ever. You bit your lip, already swollen from his kisses, his hand gripping your thigh firmly as he led you to the bed.
He laid you down, following every movement of your body as he kissed you again. He stood back for a moment, watching your body.
"Do you have sentimental value for your suit?"
"What?" you asked, confused by the sudden question.
"Just answer," he asked through clenched teeth.
"I mean it's old but I can live withou-"
You hadn't even finished your sentence when he ripped off your suit with an ease that sent shivers down your spine, ripping the fabric covering your cunt, tearing your panties and throwing all the rags into the rest of the room.
"No questions about the sentimental value of my underwear?" you laugh lightly.
"I'll get you some new ones," he breathed, a carnivorous sneer inhabiting his lips, "I'll take great care in chosing them."
You swallowed as he kissed your neck, nestling in and marking your skin with thirst. He straightened to kiss your lips, and whispered against them:
"Turn over, get down on your elbows and knees".
You complied, his instructions increasing the size of the cloud of heat in your belly. You placed your folded arms flat on the sheets, your knees slightly apart.
"Lift your hips for me, nena," he commanded in a tone as soft as cotton.
You listened, arching your back as you lifted your hips, your ass gloriously up just for him to fuck. He swallowed, his hand coming to grip one of your buttocks and pulling it apart, pressing it between his fingers and gripping your skin full hand.
"Already so good and wet for me," he mused, one of his fingers passing between your folds.
Of course you were already wet, the way he had introduced the concept to you making you all fuzzy and warm in your belly. You'd never been against the idea of Miguel being a bit more violent, and to be honest you were excited by the idea of him being so from now on.
Once he'd coated himself sufficiently, he pushed one finger into you, soft moans falling from your lips filling the room. He added another one, and your lust was growing by the second. You were getting impatient too, but you couldn't help noticing that Miguel simply couldn't wait any longer.
Miguel was always very keen about taking his time, preparing you well apart from the few moments when one of you needed a quicky, but here eagerness was getting the better of him, and above all his most instinctive desires buried deep inside him had taken the reigns of all his actions.
The thought of him being in you through your core made him feel so drunk on you. These ideas had already been marinating in his mind for a while, it had only taken this conversation between you and Jess to flip the switch. And he observed in adoration, seeing you like this, underneath him with your much smaller frame, sitting up and ready to take him.
"Hands behind your back."
His orders became more and more urgent, his tone wavering with envy. It was impossible for him to formulate a whole sentence.
So you laid your face on the sheets, cheek pressed to your side as you brought your hands behind your back, joining your wrists together like you were imagining yourself handcuffed. You shivered as his hand, whose fingers had previously been inside you, reached out from between your folds and took both your wrists at the same time, locking them in this embrace. His hand was obviously big enough to hold both your wrists together and prevent you from breaking free from his grip.
He had locked you completely.
He had blocked out any possibility of you making a move other than squirming around him. Miguel would never tire of this control, this hold he had over you right now. You were his, nobody else's, and he would let eveybody know this by fucking his seed into you and get as many babies as you wanted.
That's when you felt the head of his dick coating itself with your juices, preparing to burry himself into you. You couldn't see Miguel like this, but you could hear him. Dark growls vibrated in his throat, deeper than you'd ever heard them before, and it felt intimidating.
He thrust, pushing his tip into you, and you let out a groan of relief that sank into the fabric of the sheets. You breathed softly, letting Miguel's thick, long cock sink into you. No matter how many times you had done it, taken him like that, you still couldn't get used to it.
His lower belly finally touched the skin of your ass, his dick deep inside you. And you felt him pressing against your stomach. You knew that if you brought one of your hands to your stomach, you'd feel the shape of his cock against your skin.
He was so deep in you, an almost bestial growl escaped him as he slowly began to pull back before thrusting in hard.
You let out a little cry of surprise and pleasure that echoed around the room, and he repeated the same gesture. He kept bearing down on you until he touched your slick on his lower belly and pulling away, pushing back in the next second until it'd touch his balls.
Your body was burning, unable to do anything but arch your back more and groan. Your hands were gripping the void, and the impossibility of finding a foothold in all this was making you feel out of control. But you were enjoying the sensations he was giving you, and so was he.
He listened to the symphony of your voice as he picked up the pace, the feeling of your gummy walls wrapping all tight and warm around him was absolute perfection to him.
He knew it wouldn't be long before his first cum would hit, but he needn't have worried. Miguel could go on for a long, long time, and he just hoped that you could keep up, although he had no doubt that his best girl would live up to his expectations.
He could no longer string a sentence together properly, the words he was trying to whisper as he sank deep inside you coming out as if chewed up by his long fangs.
He grunted, his rhythm and the tilt of your two bodies giving you both exceptional sensations. The knot in your stomach tightened, threatening to burst as Miguel came closer.
And the world stopped spinning for a second.
You came together, your walls closing spasmodically around him as you felt him spill into you. Because that's what you wanted, right ? That's the one thing you desired, and he was going to give it to you entirely.
He pulled out, just for the pleasure of seeing the work he had so long dreamed of seeing. And the satisfaction was superb, his white creamy cum slowly pouring out of your wet cunt, still pulsing with desire.
A dark laugh rose from his throat as he sank back into you and you let out a startled moan. He lowered himself, his lips pressing against your ear.
"I hope you thought of six names."
It would be a long, long night.
#madschiavelique ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#mads' requests ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara one shot#miguel o'hara across the spiderverse#miguel ohara#miguel ohara x reader#miguel x reader#miguel x you#miguel x y/n#atsv miguel#miguel atsv#atsv#atsv x reader#atsv smut#miguel spiderman
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Indulgence
Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader
Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him.
Word Count: Over 5.7k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.
“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”
“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”
“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”
“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”
“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”
You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.
“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.
You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.
You were more than happy to help.
“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.
You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.
But it wasn't that cut and dry.
“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.
You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.
He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.
That was where you came into the picture.
If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.
“You wanna be my angel?”
You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.
While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.
Unlike your last boyfriend.
As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.
Was it a recipe for disaster?
The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.
His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.
You had it bad.
“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”
Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.
Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.
“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.
He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”
You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.
“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.
“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.
“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.
Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.
He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.
It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.
“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.
He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.
He wouldn't budge on that rule.
“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.
His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.
Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.
You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.
Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.
“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”
His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Three months since we started this,” he answered.
You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.
A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”
Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?
“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”
You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.
And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.
He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”
“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”
He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.
“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”
Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.
You trusted him and he made you feel safe.
“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.
A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.
“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.
So were you.
It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.
You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.
He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.
Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.
“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”
A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”
“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."
“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”
He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.
“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.
“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.
“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”
“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.
He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.
“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”
“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”
Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.
“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”
You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.
“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”
“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.
And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.
Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.
“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”
Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.
“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”
You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”
In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.
He took you to heaven when he was inside you.
“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.
“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”
“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”
Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.
Flaws and all.
“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”
Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.
“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”
It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.
“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.
“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”
“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”
“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”
“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.
“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”
Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?
Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”
He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”
The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.
“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.
Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”
Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.
“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.
A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.
It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.
Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.
You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.
At least, that was what he told you.
You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?
Had you taken care of him?
Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.
“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.
“You okay?”
“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.
For now.
He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”
“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”
His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”
You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.
You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?
Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.
“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.
He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”
Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.
You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.
“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.
He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”
Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.
“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”
He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”
There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.
One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.
You wondered if Bucky told her about you.
“What’s there to like?” He asked.
You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”
“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.
“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.
Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.
Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.
“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.
It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.
And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.
Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?
“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”
“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”
You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.
That day changed your life.
“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”
“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”
There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.
In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.
Permanently.
I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#dom!bucky barnes x reader#dom!bucky barnes x sub!reader#indulgence au#bucky barnes#dom!bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky fic#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x female reader
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is it possible you make a smut about karina? where you fuck her infront of a mirror as you watch her body bounce as you rail her hard and groping every inch of her body.
P.S i really like your works and your writing is supurb, i hope you continue writing more stories.
I apologize for the long wait. I had to put these two requests together, because I can't keep up with ones I already got and the new ones that are coming in. Hope you guys enjoy it.
Mirror Mirror on the Wall...
(Karina X Hwang Yeji X Male Reader)
You look across the table. Dinner tasted delicious and you also prepared cake for the birthday girl. The older one of the two sisters stares down at the chocolate cake, carefully taking a bite.
It's hard to say you hate her. She is your friend's daughter after all. But you can't help it. You've watched her grow up for more than just a couple of years. You treat both sisters almost the same, but Karina started to become something that you were afraid of. A stuck up, self-centered bitch.
It's a shame actually. But by the way her mother behaves, it's not that big of a surprise. She and your friend are sitting at your table as well. You invited the family of four, because of Karina's birthday. Because you wanted to be polite. Not because you wanted Karina to be around you.
The complete opposite applies to Yeji. The younger one of the two sisters. She has her rebellious side, for sure, but she has always been a sweet sunshine. Even now, her smile lights up your dining room as she takes her first bite of the cake.
"Mmmh. It's so delicious. You are a really great cook."
You crack a smile at Yeji's compliment.
Unable to not compare the two sisters, you notice that Karina hasn't said a word. Not even a thank you. She does eat the cake, which already is something, but she is just as rude as her mother is.
You sigh in disappointment. Your friend should've done better. Of course every parent makes mistakes, but Karina's mother is just on another level. But Yeji still turned out well. You can't get behind it. What exactly went wrong?
"Please let me help."
Yeji smiles at you as she stands up to collect the rest of the plates. She is the only one of your three guests who offered her help. To be fair, her father is currently on a call with his client. Mother and daughter are both busy with their phones it seems.
"Thank you, Yeji."
"I should really come over more often."
Turning around, you see Yeji, who is walking after you into the kitchen.
"Please don't. You are a lot of work."
"Very funny."
She puts down the plates, looks outside the kitchen and looks back at you.
"Who is your favorite? Me or Karina?"
You roll your eyes at her question. A question you've heard more than a thousand times over the last years. From both of them.
"I don't have favourites."
"Oh come on. I know you like me more."
"What would make you think that?"
"You invite me more often than her."
Holding the towel for the dishes in your hand, you throw it at her. The white cloth covers Yeji's face.
"You always come here uninvited. When was the last time I asked you to come?"
Yeji pulls the towel off of her head, pouting at you.
"You invited me for today. Didn't you?"
You turn towards your sink, getting ready to wash the dishes. Your stupid dishwasher broke two days ago.
"I invited all of you. That doesn't count."
Yeji steps next to you.
"You can be really mean sometimes."
"Just honest."
Yeji takes the cleaned plate out of your hand.
The two of you finish washing the dishes in silence. Once you are done, you motion Yeji to sit at the kitchen table.
"Got something as a reward for helping me."
"Really?"
Yeji looks at you with excitement in her eyes.
You open the door of the fridge. The young woman tries to look around you, wanting to know what you are going to give her.
"More cake?"
She smiles brightly as you turn back around.
"Not just any cake."
Grabbing two forks on your way, you sit down in front of Yeji. The cake in the middle.
"It's the cake I got from the publisher for finishing the last book."
"Wow. So that really is the last book of your series?"
You nod.
"I will write more. But I think there is not much more to tell about this one."
Yeji nods in response as well. She puts a piece of cake into her mouth.
"That's delicious."
You shush her.
"Be quiet, or we have to share"
Yeji giggles, before eating some more.
"If it was you last book though, you must've gotten a lot of fan letters and stuff."
"I did."
"Can I check them out?"
"That's kinda private, Yeji. Those people send their letters to me not you."
The young woman pouts.
"Hey, man."
Your friend walks in.
"I have to meet a client. I'm sorry about this, but I have to leave now."
"No problem, mate. I will makes sure the girls get home safely."
"Thank you."
"By dad!"
"Bye sweetie."
He kisses Yeji on the head, before he walks out.
"Well, this makes my original plan way easier."
You raise an eyebrow.
"What plan?"
"Having some alone time with you."
The tone of her voice starts changing. The sweet, innocent girl starts to fade into the background.
"Your sister and your mom are still here."
"Oh please. As if they are going to check on us."
Yeji takes another bite. More slowly this time. And with way more eye contact.
"We shouldn't be doing this with anyone around."
She gets up, walking around the table.
"No one will go into your study without permission."
"But-"
Yeji gracefully takes her seat on your lap.
"Am I right? Daddy?"
The 24 year old kinky college girl has finally found its way to the surface.
Fuck. You just can't resist her.
It happened around three or four years ago, if you remember correctly. Spending a lot of time with you growing up, Yeji naturally started to enjoy the things you enjoy too. One of them being writing. She didn't just enjoy it, she loved it. You helped her improve and let her beta read all your new stuff, before publishing it. You went with her to small classes and even competitions for young writers. It was nice to share something like this with her.
And before you could even realize what was happening, Yeji already graduated. You felt like time flew past way too quickly. But on that day, you found yourself sitting in the school's gym, applauding as she got up to receive her diploma. An honorary mention for being the founder of the school's writing club and being part of a nation wide competition was of course a given.
After only a couple of hours on the day, which should've been one of the best of her life, she stood at your doorstep, looking up at you. Her black hair a mess, puffy red eyes and tears running down her cheeks. Her father always planned for her to work at his company and eventually take over. But she decided to take a different path. The path you took. Or at least a very similar one. After she told him, she already got a scholarship at a local college, her dad wasn't fond of the idea at all. The two of them fought hard that day. The only person Yeji wanted to get comforted by that day was you.
Only a couple of minutes after she arrived and dumped all of this on you, her father called. Your friend was worried about her, since she just ran off and he didn't know where she was. You told him that she was with you and would stay the night. The two of them should have a calm discussion the next day.
Yeji was incredibly thankful and eventually went to the room she always stays in when she sleeps over. After having talked to her for several hours, you wanted to make sure that she was alright one last time, before going to bed yourself. You walked in on her lying on the big bed, her skirt on the floor, her fingers knuckle deep inside of her. The way she moaned your name is the reason why you are here now.
"Fine."
You sigh in defeat, feeling Yeji slightly grind against you.
"Go upstairs. I will tell your mom we are going to write on your project for college."
Yeji suddenly attacks you, pressing her lips against yours. Her tongue aggressively demands entrance into your mouth. The two of you engage into a hot but quick kiss.
"I'll be waiting."
With one last wink and sway of her hips, Yeji is gone.
You clear your throat, before standing up. Everytime you do this, you feel like the greatest sinner on earth. She is your friend's daughter. She is half your age. You were there on her first day of school. It always feels wrong when you think about it. And it always feels wrong afterwards. But if you only glance at Yeji, all that doubt goes out the window.
"Yeji and I are in my study in case you are looking for us. She needs help on her project."
Your friend's wife just nods, while you can see Karina rolling her eyes. You know what she thinks of her younger sister. You wish she could be only half as good as her. From what you've heard from Yeji, Karina likes her own college life. Or rather the boys in it. The stories her younger sister told you makes you think that your friend and his wife raised a self entitled slut.
Opening the big oak doors to your study and library, you see Yeji sitting at your desk.
Her warm smile makes you walk a little faster.
"Come here."
Once you reach her, you grab Yeji's chin, tilting her head upwards to meet yours. The two of you engage in another passionate kiss. While keeping your lips locked, you start to peel Yeji off your chair. You guide her towards the edge of your desk. Yeji hops onto the wooden surface, disconnecting from your lips for only a second.
Her new position enables you to properly run your hands all over her body. She moans into your mouth as she feels you exploring every inch of her.
"(Y/n)."
Yeji sighs your name, feeling one of your hands on her ass, while the other dips underneath her top. Your reach upwards, until you find her chest. Squeezing her tits over her bra makes Yeji moan again.
She eventually brakes away due to the lack of air. She smiles back up at you, excitement sparkling in her eyes.
"Let me give you head."
Yeji slides off the edge of the desk, landing between your legs on her knees. You have to bite your lip as you watch Yeji unbuckle your belt.
"It has been so long since last time."
You chuckle at her eagerness as she pulls down your pants. Your cock springs free, landing on her beautiful face.
"Wow."
She gasps, like she does everytime.
You rub your cock all over her face. Yeji closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of your cock.
You never met someone who was this passionate about worshipping your cock. But Yeji is one of a kind. She was more eager than skilled at first. But you've trained your friend's daughter to be your personal slut. One would never see Yeji as that, when they would meet her on the street. But she can be a naughty little devil in your ear. Especially when her family comes over, or you visit them. She always tries to sneak off with you. Just like right now.
Yeji starts to suck you off in your study. Her eyes are still closed in bliss as she savors the taste of your cock. Her blowjob becomes more messy by the second. Soon, she is almost drooling on your cock. You take a fistful of her gorgeous orange hair and you start to thrust into her mouth. Yeji moans, opening her mouth as wide as possible, relaxing her throat.
"Damn, princess."
You've always called her and her sister that. But since the two of you started having sex, this nickname has a another layer to it. A dirty one at that. Because right now, Yeji doesn't look like a princess at all. She is on her knees, drooling spit onto your cock, her thighs and the floor. Your dick starts to hit the back of her throat as you begin to thrust into her harder. Soon, only the sounds of her gags fill your study. It's a beautiful melody. One that you would love to hear every day.
Yeji takes your mouth fucking like the good girl she has been raised to be. No complaining, no dirty look, not even the hint of a struggle. She seems to be in her element.
You unfortunately don't have the stamina to keep up the pace for too long. Eventually, you have to slow down, enabling Yeji to take a proper breath through her nose. Spit is covering her chin by now. You keep thrusting into her mouth. Slow, but still with purpose. But Yeji's eyes slowly start to turn dark with lust. Signaling you that she can only hold out this long without getting touched.
After a while, you finally pull out of her completely. A tear is rolling down her cheek, which she scoops up with the back of one of her fingers. Yeji takes a moment to catch her breath properly.
"B-Bend me over."
Her voice sounds raspy and dry. Which is odd, because there is spit covering everything. Her chin, lips, shirt, thighs and the floor too.
"Your manners, Yeji."
You're reminded how often you said that years ago. When you had important visitors and the two sisters stayed at yours over the weekend.
"Sorry. Please, daddy?"
She pouts cutely. Like she always does, when she wants something.
"We still have to be quick though."
Luckily, you always keep your desk clean. Quickly putting your laptop to the side, you turn Yeji around afterwards.
"Daddy..."
She moans as she feels your hand pressing against her back, making her bend over the wooden surface. Since your desk is quite high and quite big, Yeji can barely hold onto the edge on the other side. And she has to lift her feet off the ground, if she wants to do so. Only her tiptoes stay in contact with your wooden floor.
You reach around her, quickly unbuttoning her white pants, pulling them off of her.
"You came prepared, I see."
The lack of underwear has an obvious meaning. Yeji wiggles her butt at you, tempting you to just enter her immediately.
"Just for you, daddy."
Everytime she calls you that, you can't help but think about how wrong this all is. She could be your own daughter. Buth there she is, bend over your desk, telling you what she wants you to do to her.
"Can you please fuck me now? I've waited the whole day for this. I need it..."
Yeji sighs in desperation, her cheek resting on the dark wood.
You stand behind her, aligning your cock with her wet folds. You can see them glistening, when you pull her cheeks apart a little.
"Fuck, Yeji."
You can't believe how beautiful she is. How good her body looks. You wait for just a little longer, making Yeji squirm in anticipation, before you finally push inside of her.
"Oh god!"
A deep moan echoes through your study as you part Yeji's walls. Her tight pussy is dripping wet, making it easy for you to slide into her completely. You wonder, how she is so turned on. Because of you? Because you're her dad's friend? Because she has been waiting for this all day?
You are not sure. But you can say that this makes up for all the bad attitude her sister threw in your direction today.
Soon, you find yourself indulging in the pleasure that you take from Yeji's young and tight body. Every part of her seems to be made with perfection. You can't help but let your free hand roam her body. The other one is holding her waist as you keep thrusting into her.
Reaching under her shirt, you grope her breasts. A string of moans escapes her mouth. One louder and dirtier than the previous one.
"Harder, daddy! Please!"
You finally give into her begging. You know, if you fuck her harder, you won't be able to keep your orgasm off for much longer. And you still want to enjoy more of her body.
"Get on the desk."
Yeji takes a moment to comprehend what you just said. But she eventually manages to peel herself off your desk. You turn her around and push her back on it. Now on her back, Yeji looks up at you as you start thrusting into her again.
"Yes, daddy!"
You reach forward, bunching her shirt up over her tits. You push the bra up as well, finally revealing her small perky tits. Your other hand is holding onto one of her luscious thighs. Fingers digging into her soft skin.
"Keep going..."
Yeji slowly starts to lose the ability to speak. Her words start to turn into letters loosely strung together. It tells you that she isn't far away from her own climax.
You play with her tits, kneading them and pinching a nipple occasionally.
"Oh..."
She tries to say something again, but your strong thrusts make her eyes roll back. Her head, just like her back, is rubbing against the wooden surface of the desk in the rhythm of your pounding.
Your own desire for release starts to overwhelm you. The sight of Yeji, squirming and moaning on the desk she used to sit on and watch you write a cute story for her, makes you want to ruin her completely. Both of your hands are now holding onto her full thighs, enabling you to pull her back into you way harder than before.
The sound of your skin hitting hers echo through your study, accompanied by the young girl's moans.
"Daddy! Cuming!"
Yeji cries out as the pleasure finally proves too much for her. Her body shakes atop your desk as her orgasm overwhelms her. You don't slow down, pounding her through her high as you chase your own. Yeji's body often has that affect on you. That desire to completely wreck her, leaving her a whining, dirty mess.
"Ohhh..."
Yeji's drawn out mix of moan and cry sounds like music to your ears. Her pussy contracts around you at the same time, demanding that you cum inside.
"Princess..."
You groan, realizing that you don't know if this is a safe day for her or not. You want to fill Yeji with your cum, but you don't want to knock up your friend's daughter. Yeji is too far gone to care at the moment. Her body keeps squirming on the wooden surface, moans leaving her body in irregular intervals. You try to hold on for longer, but you eventually can't stop yourself.
With the last ounce of strength you have left, you regretfully leave Yeji's snug hole. As you pull out, that last squeeze of Yeji's inner walls makes you explode. You shoot your load all over her body. Her midriff is the first thing that's covered in your cum. Her chest quickly follows as strings of your semen hit her tits.
You feel your legs weaken as you calm down yourself, taking in the view in front of you. Yeji lies on the desk, her eyes still partially closed. A light smile plays around her lips as her heavy breath makes her chest heave. Her upper body is painted with your cum as she just lies there. Like a beautiful painting. A piece of art.
You walk down the hallway, heading for the bathroom. Yeji kept you busy with her project after the two of you had some fun. She does need to finish it soon, which means you didn't lie earlier. You are really helping her.
Opening the door to the bathroom, you suddenly stop moving. You look at Karina, who is standing in the middle of the room.
You notice her phone, which is standing on the sink, leaning against the lower part of your mirror. Karina isn't just taking a normal picture. She has hooked a finger inside her cleavage and is pulling the hem of her dress down. Despite looking at her from the side, you can see her breasts, almost completely exposed, through the mirror.
"Karina. What the hell are you doing?"
You see the young girl jumping, when she hears your voice. She looks at you as she takes her hand off her dress, letting it fall back into place. You see her roll her eyes before answering.
"Nothing."
"This doesn't look like nothing to me."
"Whatever."
Despite her disgusting attitude, Karina is still your friend's daughter and Yeji's sister. You still care for her. You glance at her phone, before looking back at her.
"Were you taking pictures of yourself?"
"So what?"
She reaches for the phone.
"Are you sending them to someone?"
"Not your business."
You hold back the desire to just give her a small clap on the head. Just a really small one.
"Karina, you shouldn't send this to anyone, whom you don't trust."
"I can do what I want."
You nod.
"That's true. I'm just saying, please be aware of the consequences."
"Stop annoying me already."
Karina is obviously checking the photos she took, while you are still trying to talk to her.
"I wouldn't need to annoy you, if you wouldn't act like this."
She raises an eye brow, but keeps looking at her phone.
"You can't tell me what to do."
Karina places the phone back on the sink. She goes through her hair, looking at the mirror. She hasn't even looked at you properly yet since you came in. It makes your blood boil even more.
"Actually, I can. This is my house. Plus, I'm your godfather."
"Oh no, I'm scared."
You watch as she bites on her nail and winks at the phone. You hear it taking a picture. She probably used a timer or something.
You take a deep breath.
"Get out."
She keeps going as if she didn't hear you. When she is about to pull the top of her dress down again, you stop her by grabbing her arm.
"I. Said. Get out."
You speak through your teeth, trying to stay calm. You pull her towards the door.
"Ouch. Stop it!"
Karina uses both hands to push you away. You let go, expecting her to get her phone and walk out on her own. Your eyes widen when you see her standing in front of the mirror again, hooking a thumb underneath one of the straps on her shoulders, smiling at the phone.
"You can wait outside, you know."
You were already annoyed by her attitude during the meal earlier. Her manners are pretty much non existent. You managed to hold yourself back. And Yeji did an incredible job to make up for her older sister's behavior. But there is only so much you can take. If Karina was a couple of years younger, you would've just picked her up and carried her out. You used to do that, when she was being a brat at an younger age.
"Karina."
You realize your tone has become threatening. You reach out for her shoulder, wanting to stop her from letting the strap fall off of it. She swats your hand away. It lands in her hair. And before you can even think about it. You've already taken a fistful.
"One last time. Get. Out."
You growl into her ear.
"Let me go!"
She tries to push you away again, but this time you stay steady.
"Stop it. You know I'm stronger than you."
"I'm gonna tell dad!"
"So what? You think he is gonna like the fact you take this kind of pictures of yourself?
Karina winces as you tug at her hair a little too hard.
"Leave me alone you ass!"
She finally reached the limit. She broke the last wall of self restraint you had left.
You push her against the sink, slightly bending her over it. The both of you stare at each other in the mirror. She finally looks at you properly.
"Stop being a rude bitch first."
The words left your mouth before you could think about them. You planned on saying something different. They just came out. You almost expect Karina to cry, when you see her eyes grow wide.
"Fuck you!"
You were wrong.
Karina reaches behind her with one hand to push you away. The other holds onto the sink.
"No. Fuck you. You have no manners at all."
"So what, huh!?"
She glares at you through the mirror, slightly raising her chin.
"Apologize and behave properly. Or this will have consequences."
You used to say that line when the two sisters were younger. It always worked. You were like a fun uncle for them. Whenever you became this serious, they knew they did something wrong.
But now, Karina just scoffs.
"I'm not ten anymore. What are you gonna do? Punish me?"
"I will."
"Oh, please. I'm a grown woman. I can do what I want."
"Not under my roof."
You point at her phone.
"Delete the pictures you took and go downstairs."
"No."
"Karina..."
You growl, pushing her forward with your hand on the back of her head. She stumbles against the sink.
"Delete them."
"No."
Karina crosses her arms and glares at you, once she has regained her composure. You reach for it yourself. She tries to stop you, but you are too strong for her.
"Give it back!"
You take a step back and hold her in place. Since your arms are longer than hers, Karina can't reach for her phone.
You delete the first to pictures without even looking at them. But when you see more and more of them, you start to realize how sexy she looks in them.
What she lacks in manners and attitude, she seems to make up for with her body. You can't deny the fact that Karina's beauty rivals her sister's.
Once you are done, you look at her again.
"Did you seriously just delete all of them?"
Karina asks with disbelief in her voice.
"Yes. Now, get out."
"No. I need some content for this weekend. You just deleted like twenty pictures or something."
"What content?"
You furrow your eye brows.
"None of your business. Give me my phone back."
You ignore her outstretched hand, quickly scanning through the apps on her phone. You see a white icon with a blue O on it. You realize what she is doing.
"Are you serious?"
"What?"
You show her what you found.
"So? I need to pay my bills somehow."
"Does your father know about this?"
"Don't you dare."
Karina glares at you.
"Oh trust me. I will tell him."
"No way."
Now she finally looks a little concerned.
"Karina, you shouldn't be doing this. Just because you look nice, doesn't mean you have to sell your body for some money."
"You think I look nice?"
She mockingly raises and eyebrow.
"That's wasn't my point Karina."
"Come on, you can be honest. Do you know how much guys pay me for these pictures?"
"I don't give a fuck."
"But I do. If you are gonna tell on me, I'm gonna tell on you too."
"I'm a grown man and your dad's friend. What could you possible know about me that would be worth his time?"
"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe the fact his best friend rails his daughter on a regular basis?"
"What?"
You are too surprised to hide it. You and Yeji made sure that no one would find out. You were always careful. How...?
"See? Seems like I do have something of value."
"How do you know?"
"Me and Yeji share a dorm at college. Whenever she doesn't see you for longer than a week, she plays with herself, when she thinks I'm asleep. I can't believe she calls you daddy."
You close your eyes in disbelief. Yeji... Why does she have to be so fucking horny all the time?
"Fine. Alright. I won't tell on you. You won't tell on me."
A sly, victorious smile plays around Karina's lips.
"Deal."
"That doesn't change the fact that you are rude all the time."
"I'm not rude."
It's your turn to raise an eyebrow.
"I have my reasons."
You let go of her hair earlier. She crosses her arms in front of her, looking away.
"I don't care what your reasons are. So leave."
You gesture towards the door.
Karina doesn't move.
"You deleted all the pictures. I need new ones."
"I still don't like what you are doing. Leave."
She shakes her head.
"Help me with this."
You realize that your argument isn't flawless.
"You're my friend's daughter. No way."
"Seriously? You creampie my sister, but you don't want to fuck me?"
How are you going to get out of this?
"I'm not shooting a movie here or something. If you want someone to fuck you on camera, find a pornstar or something."
Karina rolls her eyes.
"That's where you draw the line?"
"Karina..."
She ignores you, taking the phone out of your hand.
"You don't need to do anything but fuck me. Shouldn't be that hard."
She sets the camera to record, before placing it back on the sink.
You think about it for a moment. It really isn't that hard. You are fucking Yeji already. So why not go all the way? It's not like she is gonna tell her dad.
Karina leans over the sink, looking back at you over her shoulder.
"Give it to me. Daddy."
That last word makes you jump into action.
It sounds so much different to when Yeji says it. The younger one uses more affection. Whenever she says it, you feel like she would do anything for you. Or rather your cock.
When Karina says it, it's sounds more lustful. Maybe even slightly condescending.
Yeji is the good girl, while Karina is the bad one.
You quickly unbuckle your belt and let your pants drop to the floor. Karina watches you through the mirror as you reach for the hem of her dress.
She glances at the phone, when she feels you pushing her dress up. You reveal her ass. Slightly bigger than Yeji's. You can't help but compare. Your hands wander over her skin. The same thrill you feel whenever you have sex with Yeji enters your body. The thrill of doing something forbidden. The fact that she is filming this makes it even hotter, now that you think about it.
"Don't tease me, daddy."
A knowing smile plays on Karina's lips.
You align your cock with her entrance. Her wet folds make it easy to slip inside. It seems like taking the pictures earlier turned her on.
"Damn, daddy."
Karina breaths heavily as you push inside. For some illogic reason you expected her to be not as tight as Yeji. You are proven wrong.
"Fuck you are tight."
You can't help but give her ass a rewarding spank.
"That's right daddy. Punish me for being such a slut."
You slap her again and again with every inch you push further into her. Karina moans whenever you do so. Her body is being pushed forward with every slap. Her ass cheeks jiggle deliciously.
Once you bottom out inside of her, you look at Karina in the mirror. Her half lid eyes stare back at you. She is biting her lip, trying to contain a loud moan.
You place both your hands on her waist, pushing down a little. Karina's back arches as a result, enabling you to push just a little bit further.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck."
It seems like you've reached her limit. Karina hisses as she tries to get accustomed to your cock.
"If I had known you are this big..."
She isn't able to finish her sentence, when you pull out of her.
You watch Karina's eyes roll back as your cock rubs against the length of her inner walls.
"Don't give me all the credit."
You chuckle as you push back inside.
"Fuck."
Another moan escapes Karina's lips.
"Am I tighter than my sister?"
A question you've never even dreamed of hearing. One so dirty, you never thought one of them would be able to say it.
"You are."
Your honest answer makes her smirk. You wipe it off her face a moment later. Because you start fucking her properly now.
"Holy shit."
Karina watches as you thrust into her again and again. Your hips snap against hers, making the sounds echo through the bathroom. She tries to silence herself once again by biting her lip, but your thrusts prove to be too much for her. Eventually, her mouth hangs open, lewd sounds coming from the deepest parts of her throat.
Your eyes, which were focused on her face, are now slowly wandering downwards. You get captivated by the way her tits move, while you fuck her. Reaching forward with one hand, you grope Karina's boobs over her dress.
They are bigger than Yeji's. You don't have to touch her to know it. It's obvious.
"You like mine more than my sister's. Right?"
Karina manages to ask another question like this.
"I would like you more if you would just shut up."
Another grin flashes across her face.
"If I'm still talking, you are just not fucking me hard enough."
You take it as a challenge. With one hand now in her hair and the other on her waist, you start to fuck Karina harder and faster. You push her against the sink with every thrust into her. A red line where she hits the sink appears on her skin.
"Look at yourself. Getting fucked in someone else's bathroom like a whore."
You don't know where these words came from. This situation, Karina herself, makes you do things you never thought of doing. You pull at her hair, forcing her to lift her head, which dropped between her shoulders earlier.
Karina's wide eyes stare at you as you take her from behind. Her tight walls squeeze you and try to stop you from leaving, whenever you pull back.
"Mmh, yes."
Karina moans, some spit falling out of her mouth in the process. She starts to lose her composure as you hit just the right spot with every single thrust. Her and Yeji's body feel similar to you. You can tell where her sensitive spots might be and you stimulate them properly, making a squirming mess out of the young woman.
You move your hand from her waist to her shoulders, quickly pulling the straps of her dress off. The upper half slips down her body, until the whole dress is bunched up right above her waist.
Karina's tits sway from side to side as you pound her from behind. You take one of them into your hand, squeezing it and earning another deep moan.
By now, you think Karina has forgotten about her phone. She seems to let herself go, submitting to your thrusts. Your hand keeps exploring her voluptuous chest, squeezing her tits and tugging at her nipples randomly.
Your cock in her pussy keeps hitting just the right spots. The combination of your pounding and your groping has Karina moaning and shivering. She watches herself getting fucked. It's something she starts to enjoy very much. Her pussy tightens even more around you in response.
You let your hand explore more of her body, while the other one keeps her head in place by holding her hair. You admire her collarbone and shoulders for a moment, before quickly moving past her chest. You feel the toned muscles of her stomach underneath your palm. As you keep fucking her and your hand moves further down, you could swear you can feel your cock through her belly.
You press against the spot and suddenly, Karina starts to shake more, her pussy squeezing you tighter.
"Daddy, fuck!"
It's the last words she manages to force out. From that moment onwards, Karina is a mumbling mess. You can't tell what she is trying to say. Her lips quiver uncontrollably. Her pussy is almost painfully tight as you feel more and more of her fluids leaking out of her.
Eventually, your hand reaches her clit. You start rubbing it, encouraging her with your fingers to cum on your cock. Karina's closed eyes shoot open. Saliva still drips from her parted lips.
"Ohhhh!"
A loud cry is the only thing she can do to announce her orgasm. Karina watches herself climaxing. She sees how her body twitches and squirms. How her muscles on her midriff seem to flex. She feels her own pussy tightening around your cock, contracting uncontrollably. Her arms and legs grow weak.
You keep fucking Karina through her orgasm. She can't do anything but take it. She can't tell you to stop. She tries to watch herself as long as possible. But when you somehow drive yourself into the deepest depths of her vagina, Karina's eyes roll to the back of her head. She sees stars, her mind eventually breaking from the pleasure.
You feel yourself chasing your own orgasm as you watch your friend's daughter through the mirror. Her breath has left fog on the glass. Only now do you realize her hands don't rest on the sink anymore. They are pressed against the surface of the mirror.
The sight of Karina like this slowly makes you reach your high.
"Fuck, Karina. Your pussy is gonna milk me dry."
You manage to push out the words as you try to hang on as long as possible. Her tight snatch keeps squeezing your cock, making it harder for you to properly fuck her like before.
"Let me taste your cum, daddy. I need it."
Karina's eyes reflect her desire and need for your cum. She almost unconsciously licks her lips.
You count to ten, trying to stay as long as possible inside of her. You want to savor every last second of her tight pussy wrapped around your cock.
But you have to pull out eventually. You leave the snug tightness of her snatch.
"Come here."
Karina drops to the tile covered floor, kneeling in front of you.
Just like you held Yeji an hour ago, you grab Karina's chin. But not to kiss her. You make her crawl towards the glass wall of your shower.
You press her cheek against it, signaling her to stay like this. The sight quickly makes you cum.
You start to shoot your load all over Karina's face. You paint her skin with your cum. She looked almost cute a moment ago. Now, she looks like a cheap whore.
"Fuck, that tastes good."
Karina is sucking her finger clean, after having scooped up some of your cum. You can't believe you came on both of your friend's daughters within two hours.
The older of the two now looks up at you, her tongue cleaning the cum off her face around her mouth.
"Would you like to become my partner for my content? You would get a cut off the profit."
"Karina-"
"You think we can convince Yeji to join us?"
"I don't think we should-"
"I think people are gonna be willing to pay if they know the two of us are actual sisters."
It feels like you are drowning in sin. It's bad enough you had sex with one of your friend's daughters more times than you could count. You now managed to fuck the older sister as well. And now she wants you to help her make money by filming you, fucking her and her sister?
"This isn't right Karina."
You try to do the right thing. But that ship has kinda sailed already. And you can't deny that a threesome with the two sisters would be mind blowing.
"Come on, daddy. You can do with me what you want. As long as we film it. And I'm pretty sure you are already using Yeji like a sex toy anyway."
#ask#anon#kpop#kpop smut#kpop girls#kpop gg#male reader#aespa#aespa karina#karina smut#karina#itzy x reader#itzy smut#itzy yeji#itzy#hwang yeji#yeji#yeji smut#aespa smut#yu jimin
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for the longest time my family used to host one of the biggest haunted houses on my block: elaborate, themed amateur haunts that pearled out along our lawn for one-night-only. spinning circus wheel-of-terrors and walkthrough alien crash-landings and spiders that arched over our driveway, leaking venom onto your feet.
we didn't have a lot of money; and honestly i don't know how we afforded what we did have. there were not going to be pneumatics or projectors or any supply over 20 dollars - and even 20 was a stretch. we were lucky, and we lived in a town that had a "swap shed", where people would drop off any banged-up-but-usable items that they wanted to get rid of. the whole year, my family would pick over someone else's discarded fans and lights and weird decorations, asking each other - what do you think? for halloween?
we would strip the motors out of rusted fans and spraypaint vases and saw broom handles in half and apply a very thick coat of cardboard and duct tape to everything. for our pirate year, i made the mistake of individually drawing woodgrain onto each strip of cardboard that made up the ship. i then gently painted and distressed the "boards" so they'd each have lichen and cracks and unusual patterns. i hid eyes in the knots and shaped skulls. you couldn't see any of it in the dark, even under our "spotlight" (someone's target-branded workshop flashlight).
i have a lot of very strange skills as a result. i know how to make a flying ghost appear both physically and in the mirror. i know how to make a witch's brew that stirs itself. i know how to burn and cut and paint until there is an iron throne you can sit on, or an alien brushing your ankles, or a hearse trundling along. i can't say we ever made it beyond our local newspapers, but we tried so hard that the town would regularly shut down our street.
i can't put any of these skills on a resume, and i haven't been able to put them to use for a while. i live in an apartment, there's no lawn for me to decorate. for years i've wanted to do an alice in wonderland theme, and have been collecting ideas like coins in a fountain. at other houses, i am transfixed by 12 foot skeletons and paper mache spooky lanterns; easily wooed by the knowledge of how much time people put in.
someone asked me once - so what was the point? and why didn't you guys charge anything to show up?
in truth, we probably needed the money. for years there, we were a 1-meal-a-day kind of a family. i was being polite earlier up in this essay: we furnished both our house and our halloweens using things left a recycling center. we live in new england and still didn't turn on the heat until the end of november, no matter how low the temperature.
every year we would collect donations for unicef and other charities. on an average year, we would collect enough to pay for our food for weeks. every year, without fail: we donated every penny.
this endeavor took months to plan and design and execute. we had to organize any volunteers and check safety and hope-for-the-best. it took at least 24 hours to set up, a week to take down. the motors and fans and lights all had to be packed tight. the cardboard would scatter, pangea in the rain and sleet. i remember picking up a plank from that pirate ship, the paint blown clear off, all my hard work completely erased. a new kind of driftwood.
if this was a poem, and not a memory, i could wrap this up prettily. i could say that these skills landed me a cool job in the haunting industry or that it taught me the value of friendship and responsibility. but i actually think it's something better, something very pretty: there wasn't ever a moral to it.
the night was a long one. yes, there were assholes, people who broke stuff. but mostly it was just kids like us in cardboard costumes, dressed as an incredibly niche kind of truck. good parents who were friendly and laughing. teenagers who slunk in at late hours, wide-eyed and secretly delighted; who asked us can i help next year? like, do y'all take volunteers, or whatever? every year more people came, and told their friends, and offered to pay. and every year we said maybe next year and meant absolutely never.
we did it because it was enough to love something, and to make that love visible. we did it because there is very rarely an excuse to have fun. i think maybe especially, for me - we did it because every year, there was one first "customer" somewhere around 3-4PM, while we were still putting on the final touches. the sun would still be up, and we were frazzled and always-running-late, and these kids saw our vision unfinished in the bright light of day.
something about their parents murmuring say thank you and telling my mom this setup is so sweet while this little kid would grin up at us, dazzled by our artistic mediocrity. the fall air and the chill and their coat-over-a-panda-princess-costume. that first phrase of the night awkwardly managed over a pair of overly-large vampire teeth: a beautiful and excited trick or treat!
#wholesome#happy halloween#writeblr#just something to maybe warm ur heart in these times#my parents also usually let me take nov 1st off#this is the first year in like 20 years im not taking it off bc it became like a family holiday#i regret not taking it off but alas. capitalism.
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summary: When Finnick notices how the reader's drink has been spiked with sex pollen at one of President Snows Balls, he and Peeta make a plan to save her from the special services the victors sometimes provide for the capitol. Finnick causes a distraction, while Peeta makes sure to take the reader away to safety, only the plan doesn’t go accordingly, and ends up with a sex crazed reader stuck on a closet.
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Warnings: sexual content, slight dubious consent, fingering, lots of praise, dom!Peeta??, reader under sex pollen
Notes: This is my first attempt at a shortfic about Peeta Mellark, as I have been quite obsessed with him lately
This story is a short fic with little to no plot, so, enjoy the smut ;)
For any weird grammar mistake, feel free to correct me for as inglish isn't my first lenguage!
Word count: 6.6k
Giff: @xiaolanhua
Finnick cursed out loud, grabbing the attention of some of the most important and exclusive people in Panem who were nearby. They began to chuckle and whisper among themselves in return, clearly enjoying the sudden outburst of District’s four beloved victor. Peeta, on the other hand, quickly realized something was wrong, politely ending the conversation with an all too eager sponsor who was in the midst of trying to convince him to go back to her room together. She was old, caked with so much makeup her features were almost unrecognizable. Staring at her for too long made Peeta feel uneasy, as if he were in a fever dream, where everything was washed in an eerie distortion, almost normal but not quite.
“Are you okay?” was the first thing he said once he got to Finnick’s side, standing beside one of the absurdly food collapsed tables at one of the ballrooms corners. He was holding a glass filled with sweet smelling liquor, his hand so tightly wrapped around it his knuckles were turning white. Peeta was sure it was going to burst into pieces in just a matter of seconds, so he quickly reached for Finnick’s hand, surprised to find little to no resistance as he took the glass away and set it on the table. The motion seemed to snap Finnick out of whatever trance he had been in, blinking at Peeta as if he were just now assessing his presence there.
“What?” was all he could manage to say, his eyes returning their focus to something far away, the feather of a muscle twitching as he grounded his jaw.
“What's wrong?” Peeta pushed, following the man's gaze in an attempt to understand what he was seeing that was making him so mad. Finnick had a temper, Peeta knew that, but it was always tightly concealed in that calm and easy-going facade he portrayed, his armor against everything. It took quite an effort to make him lose his composure.
“(y/n)” He answered, voice made of steel. Peeta frowned, eyes desperately trying to find what was going on, his chest tightening at the mention of your name, “They dosed her drink with an aphrodisiac powder.”
Peeta’s whole body froze, his eyes snapping back to the man beside him.
“What do you mean aphrodisiac powder, what the hell even is that?”
But Peeta could already imagine what it meant, what they were doing it for. Anger rose in his blood like fire, pumping into his heart, beating so fast it was starting to make it hard for him to breathe -
“Finnick” He managed to get out, hand coming up to grab the man’s arm, turning him to face him.
“I recognized this man talking to Snow earlier” Finnick began, his eyes closing as one of his hands came to massage his temple, as if a piercing headache was making it hard for him to think “He is the one who arranges the customers for-,” he took a deep breath before opening his eyes to meet Peeta's wide ones “ the special services from the victors the capitol sometimes provides”
His stomach churned in a way that threatened to make Peeta vomit every expensive item of food he had ingested tonight, right on the pristine marble floor. He knew exactly what Finnick was talking about. Haymitch had told him about this business Snow ran, a way for him to further control the victors, make them pay for whatever rule breaking he deemed was done on their game, threatening their family’s life as a cost of it. But (y/n) had won fair, she had outsmarted the players, not the capitol, she didn't deserve this, she-
“I have been watching this man all evening, analyzing his moves, trying to figure out who Snow had sold to him,” Finnick continued, interrupting Peeta’s running thoughts. “It was easy enough to discover, with the way he has been practically stalking (y/n) all night.” An exasperated sigh escaped his lips “But something is different this time. He hasn't come up to talk to her and she is completely oblivious to him, as if she doesn't know what Snow has done, as if she hasn't been warned what would happen if she denies”
Her family, massacred. Peeta swallowed, his throat painfully dry all of a sudden.
“That’s when I noticed what he was doing” Finnick’s hands bawled into fists by his sides, his eyes returning to scan the room before returning to Peeta’s, “They are drugging her, filling her with aphrodisiac poison that will make her unable to think of anything more than sex. They are making her into a puppet so they can take advantage of her, avoiding the resistance, the threats, the compromise on her part.”
“That is sick” Peeta breathed out, feeling lightheaded and utterly disgusted.
“People here in the capitol are absolutely rotten” Finnick spat, “I have been a victim of that drug before. It is so potent, it makes it physically painful to deny sex, it forces the body to need it on a primal level, triggering an almost survival instinct.”
Peeta cringed at the thought of Finnick, barely a teen, being a subject to all this.
“We have to do something, we have to save her” Peeta rushed through whispered words, his eyes looking around them in search of anyone who could be eavesdropping on their conversation.
“Yes” Finnick agreed, “But we must do it inconspicuously, or they could end up hurting her even more.”
“What is your plan?” Peeta’s breathing eased a little, his chest loosening at the reminder of Finnick’s clever mind.
“Once the effects of the drugs kick in, she will quickly excuse herself to the bathroom. There, I will intercept the man, distract him. Make a big scene if I must.” The ghost of a smirk pulled at Finnick’s lips at the thought, before it was quickly wiped away as he continued “You will find (y/n) and get her the hell out of here, but not to her room. They will be probably expecting her there” Peeta shuddered at the thought, nodding at Finnick.
“Where is she now?” Peeta inquired, his eyes returning to the crowd, unable to find the girl in question.
“Near Snow’s fountain, to the left side of the room. She is talking to a man with a neon green top hat.”
Peeta found you instantly then, the loud pounding of his heart in his ears drowning any other sound. You looked so beautiful, he couldn't help to notice, with your hair pulled away from your face in an elegant updo, filled with colored jewels that caught and reflected every light on the ball room, like a beacon. Your dress was made of black jewels as well, hugging every hill and dip of your body in an exquisite way, a slit on the side of your hip revealing the tan skin of your right leg. And your smile, so bright as you laughed at some joke the man before you had uttered, it took his breath away- until he realized how your chest was moving rapidly, as if the air entering your lungs wasn't enough, at how your skin was covered in a sheen of sweet, some stray away hairs curling around the nape of your neck and around your face, and at the way your hands had begun to tremble, hiding the away by clasping them tightly behind your back.
“It is starting,” Finnick commented, straightening his shoulders as if preparing himself to move. Peeta did the same, struggling to calm his fast beating heart.
You offered the man another smile, this one polite, apologetic. The man dipped his head and moved out of your way, allowing you to begin moving into the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor, towards the other side of the room, where the bathrooms were located. Finnick nodded at Peeta, signaling to start moving the same way as you. They got to there first, and Finnick leaned forward to whisper right on Peeta’s ear, in a gesture that seemed like a warm goodbye from a friend to the ignorant eye.
“I will go for the man, you grab (y/n) and leave right away, don't waste time on explanations until you are both alone and safe.”
Peeta nodded, clasping his back as reassurance. He could do this, he told himself, willing his body to calm down, to gather his anxious thoughts.
Before Finnick finally pulled away, he added in a tense, almost somber tone, so lowly his words almost got forgotten among the chattering crowd.
“Do what you must to help her, she’ll be glad it was you and not someone else.”
Peeta’s brows furrowed in confusion, but before he could ask what Finnick meant by that, he was already being swallowed by the crowd, disappearing among the vibrant colors, the moving bodies, the discordant music that made Peeta’s teeth greet in discomfort.
Peeta moved onto the side of the bathroom door, acting as if his shoelace had been untied and crouching down to fix it, avoiding anyone starting a conversation with him that could complicate his inconspicuous escape.
It only took a couple of minutes before he heard your voice,
“S-Sorry, excuse me please” You sounded breathless, words tight in your throat, as if the mere effort to get them out was painful.
Peeta got up then, instantly identifying you making your way out of the crowd in a desperate attempt to get to the bathroom. He walked up to you just as you took the door handle in your shaky hand, grabbing your wrist in a secure grip before pulling you along with him, without stopping to say anything. You gasped in shock, stumbling slightly over your feet before you could manage to keep up with his fast pace. You pulled at his hand in an attempt to be let go, but he ignored you, mind only focused on one thing-
The exit door, only a couple of steps away
“Peeta!” you exclaimed as you finally recognized him, struggling to maintain a composure, smile wavering between a frown and a grimace of pain “What the fuck are you doing?” you whispered, feeling as though your vision was shaking, not being able to see people anymore, just shapes and colors merging together in a sickening spin-
You were going to throw up.
“I’m going to be sick” you pleaded, arm now falling limp on his firm grip, deciding to leave fate in his hands- unable to do anything to resist, and knowing deep down Peeta would never hurt you.
Peeta’s heart squeezed on his chest as he heard you, and he opened his mouth to explain -what? he did not know- anything to make you feel better, to help you understand what was going on,
But then a crushing sound vibrated across the room, making people gasp and scream in shock, their attention now focused on the other side of the room.
Finnick
Peeta let out a sigh of relief as he got to the entrance door, which was luckily open, not a peacekeeper in sight. He didn't waste a second to pull you out towards the main hall, where the elevator to the victor's rooms was.
“It will be alright (y/n), I promise” Peeta finally spoke, his voice just above a whisper, as he continued his way with unbreakable determination, both of your steps resonating against the glass floor the only sound in the spacious room “just trust me, okay?”
You felt as if Peeta’s voice was coming from underwater, muffled and far away- But still managed to understand.
“Okay” You replied, unable to voice any other word running through your dizzy brain - Your heart, you realized, it was beating so fast you couldn't catch a breath, and your skin, it felt so uncomfortable, so tight against your body- you wanted to rip it out. And the heat, the fucking heat
Peeta’s hand freed your wrist as he pressed the elevator’s button in a frantic pace, his other coming up to grip your hip, pushing so you stood in front of him, blocking the view of your body with his.
You were so close now, bodies almost pressed together. His smell invaded you like the most intoxicating, addictive perfume you had ever sensed, tightening your chest in a silent hitch of breath - And his touch- so firm and strong, fingers pressing down on the overly sensitive flesh on your hip witch was barely covered in the thin material of your jeweled gown- it set flames through your veins
Peeta heard the rush of voices coming down the hall, right from where you had come, before he felt their quick heels clad steps coming closer. Whatever Finnick had done, it had set a commotion enough to make people begin to retreat to their chambers in a hurry.
His eyes snapped to the elevator, the bright gold number still stuck on the 7th floor, and he realized it wasn't going to come by quick enough - They were already nearing the corner, they were going to catch the both of you, they were going to take you away and hurt you-
He secured your hand in his before he began to pull you further down the hall, your feet struggling to find their footing but managing not to stumble over them as you followed him. There was only one door in the hall, right on the end of it, a black metal block painted in bright gold. Peeta didn't bother to knock on it as he grabbed the handle, twisting it at the same time he pushed the side of his body on it to open it- and to his surprise and utter relief- it did. He didn't waste a second to push you inside, head twisting back one last time to see down the hall, where he noticed a couple of people beginning to appear, their vibrant colors striking against the pristine white walls and gold floor details.
He closed the door behind him, leaving out the light from the hall, engulfing you both in complete darkness. He let out a long breath, his head dropping back against the door frame, a chuckle leaving his chest before he could stop it.
You tried to blink back the darkness, but your eyes were still struggling to adjust. Something was very wrong, you realized, as you couldn't seem to make the air from the space enter your lungs. You stepped back from the man in front of you in an attempt to gain some distance and ground yourself, but you felt the cool jab of metal meet your back- you twisted on the spot, freeing your hand from Peeta’s as you extended your arms in front of you. And you felt, to your utter horror, how on every side you were met with metal railings or the cool feeling of painted concrete walls.
The space was tiny. A closet, of some sorts, you figured with a leap of your heart.
“I can't” you gasped aloud, one hand coming up to clutch your chest, pulling at the absurd number of necklaces that had been wrapped around your neck- it felt as if you were choking “I can't breathe.”
Peeta’s hands were instantly extended in search of you, his eyes wide in an attempt to see something, but only being met with darkness.
“It is okay, hey, I’m here” He whispered, one of his hands brushing your shoulder. The contact made electricity run down your body, and you twisted in an attempt to get away from his touch, managing only to bump into the railing so hard, their contents began to fall onto the floor-
Peta cursed under his breath at the loud sound of stuff crashing against the glass floor, his heart drumming onto his chest as he felt the footsteps from outside alarmingly close.
“Hey, hey calm down” He tried again, his hand grabbing your shoulder this time. And you tried to twist away again, desperate to get away from the warmth, the heat of his body, his burning touch-
it was too much, too much
You pushed into the railing again making it crash against the wall in a loud bang.
“(y/n)” Peeta rushed, his voice tight on his chest in anxiousness. But you didn't hear him, wouldn't hear him, needing to get away, desperately trying to do so-
Peeta felt the voices outside begin to wonder what those noises down the hall were, their loud cackling dimming down as if to hear better. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before somebody came up to investigate,
“Calm down” He ordered, voice low, almost a murmur. You could feel it vibrating on your chest, “We have to stay quiet, or they will find us.”
You tried to reason with his words, to obey, to understand what the fuck was going on - but then a pang of pain shot down your belly, taking the air from your lungs in a rush of a breath, before settling in a tight coil of aching between your legs. It made a whine fall from your lips before you could stop it, eyes closing as you hugged your body tightly.
Peeta’s heart stopped when he felt nearing footsteps, arms shooting forward when he heard your loud whine of pain at the same time, determined now to make you quiet. One hand found your hip as the other your arm, and he didn't waste a second to twist your bodies, so you stood with your back pressed to his chest. One of his strong arms circled your waist, locking you into him in a grip so tight you couldn't move an inch, as his other hand came to your face, palm pressing onto your mouth to silence any noise.
And just like that, your senses cleared, they sharpened, they focused and circled on only one thing-
Him.
The way his warm body was pressed to yours, the feeling of his strong muscled arm wrapped around your waist, the way his chest pushed against you in every intake of breath, the feeling of his heart pounding so loud and fast against your back- and his god damn smell, so sweet and dark and intoxicating- it made the coil deep within your core tighten painfully, breath hitching on your throat.
Peeta strained his ear to hear whatever was going on outside, the footsteps stopping just inches away, its shadow casting beneath the door frame. But it was so hard to concentrate on anything else that the way for body felt pressed to his - so warm he thought you might be having a fever- and the way you were breathing so hard and fast, you were panting against his hand- but he could notice, he could see how much you were trying to do as he said, to stay still and be quiet, even if you were in so much discomfort
“That’s it, calm down” He whispered, lowering his head so his lips were pressed to your ear, making sure only you could hear him. “You are doing so good” he praised, the words warm against your skin.
The way he phrased those words was enough to make a shiver run through your spine and make your head spin with desire. You hadn't noticed the way you had begun to press further onto him, almost as if desperate to be closer, to feel him even further. And his hand, his fucking hand had begun to rub the side of your waist in a comforting way,
You were melting. But you wanted more, you needed more-
Peeta tried to ignore the way you had begun to move against him, how your breathing had changed to something deeper, how your mouth let slip little whines and moans against his hand. He knew it was the drug's effect, he knew you couldn't help it, he knew he had to maintain a clear head, to take care of you and make sure you stayed safe.
And then you felt it, as you ground your body against his, you felt something hard begin to press against your ass. It made something in you snap, a need so desperate and maddening, it made fire rush through your veins as if boiling from the inside out- it made your brain drunk and fuzzy with desire- and the pain, the excruciating coil tightening between your legs, it was too much, too much.
Peeta felt your hand suddenly grip his, moving his arm away from your hip. He felt almost in a daze, as if unable to stop you as you moved it down your body. His breath hitched in your ear as you pressed his hand right between your legs, where you needed him the most. The thin material of your jeweled gown was the only thing standing between his fingers and your pussy- he could feel how warm you were, and cursed aloud when he noticed also how wet.
“We can't” He whispered; voice slightly breaking as he felt you increase the pressure of his fingers “They have drugged you with an aphrodisiac. You are not thinking straight-”
A moan slipped through your lips, muffled by his hand still pressed against your mouth. Peeta's eyes strained on the doorframe, noticing the shadow gone. He almost sighed in relief, until he felt the loud chuckles coming from outside-
they were still there.
Your brain couldn't comprehend anything else but the need for him. A need that was becoming so strong, the pain was unbearable. You could feel tears swell in your eyes as you gasped, your other hand coming up to push away his own from your mouth.
“Please, Peeta, I can't take this anymore- I” you choked on a whine when you felt his other hand slip from away from your body “-I need you, please, just help me.”
You pleaded, head dropping back against his shoulder in utter defeat.
Peeta cursed again, eyes tightening shut as he searched for the will to contain himself, to find a way to reason with you, to make you understand how this was so wrong-
But then he remembered Finnick's words. ‘Do what you must to help her,’ what did he even mean? Was this the only way you could go through this? You would hate him for it, Peeta thought, taking advantage of you like this- but you were in pain, you were literally crying and shaking in his arms, he couldn't stand seeing you like this, it was breaking him-
“Please” you whined, your own hand coming between your legs to relieve some of the pressure there in a futile attempt- you felt absolutely nothing.
“Okay” he murmured against your ear, telling it more to himself than to you, making up his mind. “How can I help you, (y/n), just tell me how.”
You sigh in relief at his words, closing your eyes in anticipation.
“Touch me” you whispered, breathless “Please.”
Peeta felt lightheaded with the way you were so desperate, so needy for him. In any other circumstance, he would have given away with the first please ever uttered from your beautiful lips- because you were always so composed, so strong, so unwavering- hearing you like this was making him almost as desperate for you as you were for him.
“Please what?” Peeta couldn't help to reply, his voice just as breathless as yours, beginning to move his arms, tentatively resting his hands on your hips.
You groaned in frustration, beginning to push yourself away from him so you could turn around to face him when you felt one of his strong hands spread across your abdomen, pushing you right back against him. He was so strong, you couldn't help but think, imagining his hands pushing and pulling other parts, handling you as if it were nothing-
“Please, Peeta” you begged.
Peeta melted at the sound of those tight words in your throat.
“So polite” he praised, finally moving one hand to the side of your hip where the slit of your gown began. His callous warm fingers met your bare skin there and you sighed in content “Such a good girl” he whispered, mouth pressing down just below your right earlobe, in that sensitive spot that felt to good it sent tingles down your body and made you moan out loud before you could stop it-
Peeta’s other hand instantly moved to cover your mouth once again, roughly pushing your head back against his shoulder.
“What was that?” A woman’s voice exclaimed from the hall outside, filled with delight “Sounds like someone’s having a good time!”
Peeta cursed on your ear, the words sounding even more coarse coming out of his mouth.
You whimpered, unable to take the pain between your legs any longer- your heart was beating so fast, it seemed as if you couldn't catch your breath, your skin so taut you thought it might snap over your bones, and the heat- you thought you might pass out
“Shh it’s okay” Peeta tried to calm you, his eyes glued to the shadows now outside of your door. Had they figured someone was inside here? “Be quiet doll, you can do it.”
You nodded your head in a haze, desperate to show him you would do anything he said.
Peeta knew you couldn't take it any longer, practically limp in his arms, trembling in his grip. He took in a shaky deep breath before he began to move the hand on your hip underneath the surprisingly thin material of your gown. Your skin was so smooth and soft, and so, so warm- Peeta had to take a minute to just caress between your hip and upper thigh, savoring the feeling of your tender flesh beneath his rough fingers - before he heard your impatient cry from within his hand covering your mouth. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the shadows beneath the door begin to move away, using the courage to finally dip his fingers between your thighs. His breath hitched when he noticed you didn't have anything under your gown, being met with your bare pussy right beneath his finger, hand freezing in place as the realization of what he was doing, and to whom, dawned on him.
He was about to fuck (y/n), districts four beloved 73rd hunger games victor.
“You are killing me” you mumbled against his palm, desperately pushing your hips forward in an attempt to increase the pressure of his fingers where you needed him most. So, he dipped his hand further, his muscled arm tensing over your belly as he did, bringing you flushed against him. And his fingers, ever so slowly, began to part your folds, his eyes closing as his head dropped down to lean on your shoulders at the feeling of your slick coating his fingers, smoothing his entrance. You bit his hand in an attempt to quiet the moan bubbling on your chest, head pushing back against his shoulder in an attempt to get a grip on yourself.
“So good” he murmured, lips tightly pressed to your ear “So good, so quiet.”
You could feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as he began to rub your wetness up and down, right over the bundle of nerves that send electric waves of pleasure down your body. One of your hands came down to grip his arm, pushing it down with further force- Peeta instantly knew what you wanted, what it meant- and he obliged, increasing the pressure and pace of his fingers.
The people outside began to cheer for something, the noise followed by clapping. Peeta didn't waste a second to remove his hand against your mouth, moving it down to your chin as he pushed your head further back, adjusting so his ear was right over your mouth-
“Let me hear you doll” He breathed, his fingers quickening their pace almost desperately so- feeling so good it made your toes curl and your thighs squeeze around his hand. And you moaned, so desperate and needy it would have embarrassed you if it weren't for the fact that that was exactly how you felt for him.
“Peeta” you choked out in a gasp right on his ear, and that was enough to make Peeta lose his mind, a low groan escaping from his own lips, the sound so deep and hoarse it vibrated on his chest.
You could feel his erection pressed on your backside, so hard you knew we wanted you just as much at the moment. And you wanted to feel him, God, it was all you could have ever wanted, so you started to move your hand to your back- until you felt his hand suddenly stop, making you freeze in place. You could hear his ragged breathing, feel his heart pounding against your back-
“Look at me,” He whispered, interrupting the sudden silence. You opened your eyes, surprised to notice how they had adjusted to the darkness, able to see the outlines of the door, the metal railing filled with cleaning supplies- you were in fact, in a closet. And then you looked up, finding his beautiful face before you.
He was so handsome; you had noticed that the first time you saw him. With his big, deep brown eyes and breathtaking smile. And now, with his messy blonde hair, his parted soft lips, his completely darkened eyes-
He looked delicious.
“You are absolutely beautiful” he murmured, the hand on your chin moving up to cup the side of your face. “(y/n)” he continued, a deep breath leaving his lips, fanning your own. You wanted to taste him so badly “You are not on your right mind, this is not what you want.”
You shook your head, exasperated.
“I want you so badly” you voiced in a shuddering breath “If you don't touch me right now, I think I might die.”
You used his stun position to free from his grasp, finally turning so you were face to face. He looked completely disheveled, his white tux discarded on the floor, and his matching shirt completely wrinkled, the first buttons torn and revealing a slit of tanned skin.
“I-” He began but you couldn't resist any longer, shutting him up with a kiss.
His hands were on you instantly, pulling at your hips to position you flush against him, to then wrap his arms around your waist to lock you in place. Your hand snaked to the back of his head, where you tangled them on his hair, slightly pulling it just to hear him groan again- it felt like fuel to the fire inside you. You used the moment to deepen the kiss, meeting his warm tongue inside his mouth. The kiss was desperate, hungry, lips moving feverishly against each other.
Peeta forgot about everything else, about the people on the other side of the door, about getting caught- he could only think about you, about feeling you against him, your lips on his, your tongue on his mouth- he wanted more. His hands began to roam your body, testing, feeling, kneading your soft flesh in a grip so strong you knew would certainly leave bruises. And then they were on your ass, squeezing so tight you moaned against his mouth- and he was lifting you up from the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist-
“I need you” You panted against his lips, finally breaking the kiss. The coil in your lower stomach feeling even more unbearable, the pain was making you see white dots in the corner of your vision “I need you inside me.”
Peeta leaned his forehead to yours, attempting to regain control of himself, to think straight. He sat your body against the railing, separating enough so he could see your face, meet your eyes.
And he stared at you, almost in awe before he spoke again, dropping his head back as if to force himself to stop doing it any longer.
“Your eyes” he breathed out, “they shine so black when you are hot for me.”
You cupped his face between your warm hands, forcing him to face you as you once again begged-
“please”
Peeta wanted nothing more than to oblige - he would have lifted your gown and fucked you right there against the railings- but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn't, not when you were under the effects of a drug that altered your senses, your reasoning.
So, he compromised. Not doing anything was torture to you, or so he told himself, moving so one of his arms could fit between both of your bodies while the other began to lift your gown and gather it just over your hips.
“Are you going to be a good girl and stay quiet?” He panted, his ears once again registering the commotion outside. Seemed like they moved the party to the hall, he realized, glad that the noise had gone louder, hiding what was going on in the little storage closet down the corridor.
“Yes” you whimpered, unable to contain the tears swelling in your eyes due to the pain, and the excitement-
Such a wreck for him, Peeta thought, brain drunk in desire.
“You are the one killing me, (y/n)” he murmured, holding your gaze with eyes so intense you thought he might be looking through you.
And then his hand was between your legs again, slowly rubbing your wet folds, surprised at how they were more so than before. He quicken up the pace faster this time, taking his time in enjoying every sinful sound falling from your lips, your head falling back to lean against the railing- you gasped when you felt his other hand grip your chin, thumb and index finger pressing against your cheeks and forcing you to open your eyes
“Look at me” he panted, and you thought you might cum just by the way he was looking at you with so much hunger-
And then you gasped in shock as without a warning two of his fingers slipped inside you, his thumb continuing to rub on your sensitive clit. Pleasure shocked through your body making you involuntary shake against the rails, the pressure on your lower abdomen coiling impossibly tighter-
“I'm gonna-” you whined, head leaning forward to try and find somewhere to lean on, but Peeta’s grip held you there on place, forcing you to face him.
“Say please” He breathed, lips hovering over yours, his fingers moving in and out of you with the perfect pressure, the perfect pace, and his thumb-
“Peeta” you whimpered.
He could feel how close you were, how your walls clenched around his fingers in the most delicious way- he thought he was close himself to climax, just by the way your face scrunched with pleasure, how your body became undone under his touch-
“Come on doll, ask nicely” He encouraged, needing to hear you beg, just one more time.
“Please” you managed moan.
And he was merciless about it, plunging his fingers into you harder, faster, his thumb rubbing against your clit feverishly, curling his fingers and hitting just the perfect spot-
You become undone with his name on your lips, waves of pleasure erupting from deep within your tummy as the tight coil finally released, toes curling and body jerking. He slowed the pace of his fingers as he continued to ride you out of your orgasm, your shaking body finally collapsing into his, blind with gratification and exhaustion.
Peeta panted against your ear as he finally removed his fingers from inside you, proceeding to hold you tight against him before he lowered you from the railing back onto your feet- until he quickly realized you couldn't stand on your own, arms wrapping securely around your waist and across your back to hold you in place, your own coming up to snake around his neck in a solid embrace.
“Are you alright?” He whispered, his breathing still ragged, heart pounding loudly against your chest pressed to his- you on the other hand, were completely crashing, blood pressure dropping, white stars dancing in the back of your close eyelids.
“hmm” you hummed, struggling to remain conscious.
“I think they left” Peeta voiced his thoughts, frowning in concentration as he listened for any noise outside- but it was completely quiet, he soon realized.
You didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, brain completely fogged with satisfaction, body finally out of pain and completely relaxed on his arms, as if meant to be there all along.
“(y/n)” Peeta shook you, his tone finally above a whisper “Hey, I need you to stay here yeah? stay with me.”
You tried to nod but your head just fell limp against his shoulder-
He smelled so fucking good.
“Thank you?” He replied, amusement clear on his breathless words.
You hadn't realized you had voiced your thoughts out loud, a soft chuckle scaping your lips.
“You are completely out of it, aren't you” He sighed, leaning over you so he rested his chin on top of your head, attempting to calm himself down.
You frowned at the height difference, moving your feet, and realizing you were barefoot, heels completely lost somewhere in the tiny closet.
Once Peeta finally could catch his breath, heart in a slightly normal pace, he stepped closer to the door, your almost limp body secure in his strong arms. He pushed the side of his face flat against the cool metal, concentrating on identifying any sound that could indicate someone on the other side but-
Nothing. Silence.
“Okay” He murmured, nodding “Okay, we are going to come out, yes?”
You mumbled a reply, what? you didn't know, but it was enough to make Peeta nod again. You felt him loosen his grip on you making you react on clinging to him with all your strength, desperate to avoid the loss of contact.
“Hey, I’m here, I won't leave you” He assured you, hands pushing you by the hips to create some space between the two- and you were so completely weak, barely registering your body at all, that you couldn't avoid the separation.
You frowned, opening your mouth to try and object, when you were suddenly being lifted from the ground and up on his arms again, this time in bridal style, with one of his arms holding under your knees as the other secured around your back.
“Romantic” you gushed, chuckling again.
Peeta rolled his eyes, sheepish smile tugging at his lips, as he adjusted his body so his hand could twist the handle and open the door. He loosens a breath he didn't know had been holding as he registered the hall with quick assessing eyes, noticing it completely deserted.
You tried to blink at the sudden light, but it took just a couple of blinks before your eyes dropped closed again, as if the weight of them was impossible to overcome.
“Your room is not safe” He murmured, beginning to make his way to the elevator with you tightly held on to his arms “We will go to mine.”
You nodded, the pull of unconsciousness so strong you were sure it was only a matter of seconds before you were out- so you snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arms across his neck and positioning your face right at the nape of his neck, where his smell washed over you and his warmth seeped to your skin.
And just like that, you were out with a content smile plastered on your face.
#peeta mellark#peeta mellark smut#peeta mellark/reader#the hunger games peeta#peeta mellark fanfic#peeta smut#peeta x reader#peeta my beloved#peeta mellark x you#thg#peeta x reader smut#the hunger games smut#peeta mellark/you#peeta mellark imagine#ao3
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