#? he has his father's job he wears his father's jacket he smiles his father's smile. what else are they supposed to think.
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actually so evil how much of hal's internal world gets obliterated with the rewriting of his relationships with jessica and martin.
#hal jordan#empyrean posting#ok going in the tags because im not actually v confident in my understanding of his character. i read all of his 80s/90s stuff but forgot#90% of it but ANYWAY.#so much of him just does not make sense with how geoff johns characterises him and his relationships with his parents particularly the#parallax stuff simply because of how much his relationship with the guardians and their apathy/'betrayal' is influenced by hal's original#relationship with his dad. like at its heart it's pretty much the same dynamic in how hal blindly trusts and sort of idolises the guardians#despite their repeated infractions in hope of... something in return just as he had with his father and the abuse he suffered at martin's#hands. that's what makes his anger at the guardians make sense when it does show itself because the relationship parallel didn't stop there.#as with martin hal gets nothing for his devotion. he gets nothing for doing everything that's asked of him and more and it ends the same way#too: with a man in the sky burning like a newborn star. and you lose so much of that nuance and intrigue behind that if you just make#jessica the 'bad one' because!!! you cheapen it!!!!#the whole idea of hal is that he has his father's face but his mother's scars#(to me). in the sense that they both reacted to martin the same way with that cognisance of who he was as a man yet inability to pull away#because... love. both the love they had for him and the conviction that he did or could love them too. and jessica arguably did eventually#but also she didnt did she? because she held onto that notion of love till the very end. the few scraps she had she ballooned outwards until#they became the whole. but hal didnt have even that and he spent his whole life chasing it & running away from wanting it at the same time#like i think there's something so interesting to the fact that he had to be convinced that flying was what he wanted to do. how much of that#was touched by his father? the fear that he was already too much like him than he could bear to be? he already had his face now he had his#dreams and longing for the sky. how much more could he have before he began repeating the cycle?#and at the end he even had his father's death. burning in the clouds. like there's so much there and that's not even touching on how it#impacts his relationships with other heroes. not just in the sense of why did kyle clark and diana get to keep their close yet complex#relationships with their moms when hal had to lose his (although yeah why did they) but also just how he lets himself come across to them.#because it's on purpose right? that he lets them think his reflection of his father is born out of unadulterated love for a man worthy of it#? he has his father's job he wears his father's jacket he smiles his father's smile. what else are they supposed to think.#and isnt that interesting!!! that this man who is so committed to being good & just can lie so casually to people he thinks of as friends!!!#can you see how that might be his mother through and through!!! in how she might have glossed over the abuse to other people and herself!!!#can you see how in spite of it all he might want to be perceived as his father that paragon of masculinity and resent that he is not!!!#do you understand how everything he loves has been poisoned!!! im thinking of that scene where he tells bruce about watching martin die &#wouldnt it have been so much more interesting through this lens. how he is both revealing & obfuscating at once. i hate the change sm
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I Love You, Iâm Sorry
University AU
Pairing: Volleyball player!Sakusa Kiyoomi x Artist!F!Reader
angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, FWB to lovers, angst with a happy ending
WC: 9.7k
Synopsis: Falling in love with the pretty volleyball player in your first year of University wasnât something you intended to happen; it just did. And then, two years later, the line between lust and love blurs. You want him beyond his body, but does he want every side of you? A part of you liked to think so, but Sakusa Kiyoomi is known for crushing hearts, and make no mistake, you were no exception.
Content/Warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, FWB relationship, graphic descriptions of blood/knives/wounds/organs (nothing actually happens), subtle hints of depression/anxiety, jealousy, curse words, one scene with a creep but its vague, pls lmk if I missed anything!
two Augustâs ago, you fell in love.
you remember laughing till tears cascaded down your rosy cheeks, face hurting from smiling so much. you remember soft touches; on your hand as you reached for the same item, on your waist when you squeezed by, on the corner of your mouth when you donât seem to notice the crumbs that coat your lips. you remember a gentle smile, eyes crinkling the slightest bit as your heart stutters in your chest. you remember dark curly hair, mole kissed skin and eyes brimming with affection.
you remember everything.
bright, giddy, and curious, you entered university with dreams larger than the sun. your passion for art made you yearn. you wanted to draw everything beautiful. youâd sit by the tree near your campus library and draw for hours, music blaring through your headphones as you sketched pretty items, pretty scenery, and pretty people in your book.
it was under the tree you found your muse.
you recall forgetting to bring something to tie your hair with, leaving it to fall in your face when the the wind hit a little too hard. you squinted, frowning as you moved the strands out of your sight.
and then, as if entranced, you see the prettiest student walk towards the library. itâs like everything is suddenly moving slower. heâs clad in a- sports jacket? with your school logo, and black shorts to match. he has a gym bag hung on his right shoulder, but you find yourself more focused on the thick locks on his head and soft slope of his nose. his lips are full, pretty and pink. the slight chill from the air must be the reason why his cheeks are tinted as well, and your hands itch with the urge to draw this mythical being.
(first-year you was a little dramatic, but present you still understands her.)
you draw a rough sketch of him the moment he leaves, but you know had you had more time to look, you wouldâve done a much better job.
âž
the second time you see him is at a party.
you had forgotten about the pretty boy as the days went on, more focused with school and handing in assignments. exams arrived, and then you were on break. your friends had begged you to show up, with promises of it being a fun experience even if all you wanted to do was curl up under the covers and sleep all day.
you end up wearing a cute outfit, somewhat revealing yet covering the parts you wanted to. your hair is styled with shiny clips that match your makeup. you feel pretty, and even though you initially did not want to go out, you think this might be a good idea.
âY/n, let me know if you want to leave early, okay? And donât drink anything random people offer you.â Kuroo grabs your arm, tone serious. you want to laugh at the usually silly guy being so protective of you.
you smile, âI know, father. No need to worry about me, itâs just my first party.â
Akaashi beside you ruffles your hair, âHe has a reason to be worried, youâre a little too sweet for your own good.â
you scrunch up your nose, mentally disagreeing. you could certainly be mean. but they had yet to see you at your worst, so this made sense. you decide to let them keep this image of you.
Bokuto barrels forward, knocking into your back as you stumble into Kurooâs arms. he catches you with ease, sending a glare towards his friend.
âWatch it, are you drunk already?â
Bokuto grins, âPre-gamed a little too hard! My bad, bro.â he pauses, looking at you, âAnd the lady-bro.â
you stifle a giggle at his words, focusing on the warmth that emits from Kuroo. you suddenly regret wearing something that showed more skin, knowing you got cold easily.
âTetsu, can we get drinks?â you grab his bicep gently as he looks down.
âYeah, yeah. Let me just say hi to some of the guys and weâll go.â he waits for Akaashi to come to your other side before walking, with you squashed between them.
you roll your eyes, what was up with them? it was your first time attending a university party, not your first time at a club.
you greet people mindlessly, and they all seem nice enough. you get restless after twenty minutes though, really wanting a drink. you tug Kurooâs shirt gently, waiting for him to turn to you.
âIâm gonna go get a drink, you want anything?â
he frowns, âIâll come, give me a sec.â he doesnât wait for a response before excusing himself from his friends. they all wave him off as he guides you to another room in the house, which is more secluded.
you find the table, filled with all sorts of stuff you were unfamiliar with. one of Kurooâs friends stands by, and you assume heâs keeping an eye on the beverages to ensure nobody spikes them with anything.
Kuroo gives him a quick nod before reaching for a bottle. he must know what heâs doing, however, as he pours you a mixture of two drinks before handing it to you. you take it with narrowed eyes, lifting it to your nose and oh, it smells fruity enough.
you down it in one go, looking back at Kurooâs slackened jaw. you bark out a loud laugh, before covering it with your hand. âWhat?â
he shakes his head, âNothing, nothing. Didnât know you were so thirsty.â
you shrug in response, mindlessly scanning the room as Kuroo pours himself a drink.
despite the room being half empty, it is still fairly large. you can see a group playing beer pong on the left side, while the ones on the right are laughing loudly as they seemingly discuss something funny.
and then, your eyes land on him.
heâs standing with who you assume is his friend, with their back towards you. heâs leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, and the position allows his navy blue shirt to stretch with the muscle. you swallow when your eyes trail down to his slim waist.
broad shoulders and a small waist? surely that had to be illegal.
his black pants are loose, but fit his thighs nicely.
when your eyes go back to his face, youâre once again filled with the urge to pick up your pencil and draw. heâs not smiling, and you have a feeling he doesnât smile very often, but it doesnât take away from his beauty. his cheekbones are pretty and prominent, and you wonder how they would feel beneath your palms.
you bite on your bottom lip at the thought, feeling foolish for thinking about a stranger like that.
âOh? Does my little Y/n have a crush?â a voice croons next to your ear.
you whip your head back with a glare, âTetsu, no.â
he laughs loudly, head throwing back as he cackles. you frown, scrunching your nose at him even if heâs too busy laughing to see.
âOh, câmon cutie, Iâm just teasing. Nothing wrong with a little crush, I would just recommend someone a little⌠nicer.â he says, out of breath as a grin stretches on his face.
you tilt your head, âHuh? You know him?â
Kuroo ruffles your hair gently, with you moving to fix it immediately.
âWe arenât close, but I do know him since heâs on the same team as me,â Kuroo smiles at the wide eyed look you give him. âiâd say iâm closer with his friend over there.â
when you glance back to the pair, you find that the pretty boy has his eyes on you.
your heart jumps, your body shivering as you snap your eyes back to Kuroo.
what the fuck? maybe you hallucinated that.
âOh, your man is looking here.â
maybe not.
âHey, want me to introduce you? Who knows, you might be able to defrost his heart.â he smirks, with you shaking your head to disagree. âNo, thank you. Iâm not going to defrost his heart like heâs some piece of frozen raw meat.â
he huffs out a laugh, turning into a cough when his eyes partially widen. âWell, you should prepare yourself, theyâre both coming here right now.â
you look at Kuroo with an incredulous expression, âYouâre fucking lying.â
âSuch a foul mouth, cutie.â he lifts his hand up and looks beside you, âHey, man.â he waves. he nods at the pretty boy next, who you assume nods back.
you finally allow yourself to look away from Kuroo and at the two new men in front of you. theyâre both tall, but thankfully youâre used to being surrounded by tall men due to your friends.
you smile at the friend and glance at the pretty boy for a second, âHi, Iâm Y/n.â youâre thankful you manage to sound stable.
âIâm Adriah.â his friend says with a half grin. itâs boyish and charming, but youâre more concerned with the curly-haired guy beside him. your eyes dart to his next, anticipating an introduction.
âSakusa Kiyoomi.â
his voice is deep, itâs almost alluring. it reminds you of the dark chocolate you often pick up from the convenience store beside your dorm; bitter but comforting.
you always loved dark chocolate.
the thought makes your heart do a funny thing and your chest seize up.
âž
a year and a half later, you kiss Sakusa Kiyoomi for the first time.
youâre close friends by now, perhaps even best friends. you know him like the back of your hand; no, you know better than you know yourself.
you know his arms are covered in beauty marks, ones youâd like to trace with your lips. you know how his hair looks when he first awakens, eyes swollen and lips puffed out in a pout. you know his favorite food, and how he likes his coffee in the morning. you know he sighs through his nose when heâs feeling overstimulated, you know his lips press together when heâs about to say something mean. you know he crosses his arms when he feels like he needs to protect himself, you even know the brand of disinfecting wipes he prefers to buy.
you know he has a dimple on his left cheek when he smiles, you know how his lips stretch out all pretty when heâs caught off guard. you know the low timbre in his chest when he laughs, his thick steel walls suddenly nowhere to be seen as he allows himself to relax.
âKiyo, please? I really want to go, and nobody else wants to come!â you beg, voice sad as you sit on the edge of his bed.
itâs 12:00PM, and Kiyoomi is still laying in bed. you understand, it is a Saturday, but you wanted to go out and visit the cat cafe with supposedly amazing tiramisu.
the lump on the bed barley moves, âOh great, so Iâm your last choice. Iâll pass.â
you smile, giggling. âNo, you were my first choice, but you said no so I asked other people and they also refused, so now I came back to you!â
he lifts the covers, sitting up. heâs shirtless, and the sight of his bare body covered in pretty beauty marks makes your brain short-circuit. you turn away, huffing. âPut on a shirt you⌠perv.â
you hear a pretty laugh then, your head immediately turning back to catch the rare sight. he shakes his head, small grin still on his face, âIâm the perv? Not the one whoâs red in the face and canât even look me in the eye?â
you blink harshly, âI can look at you! Iâm just⌠respecting your boundaries.â
you turn away again, crossing your arms. you hear the covers on the bed shuffle, and when you slowly turn around, you find yourself much closer to Kiyoomi than you thought.
you blink, moving to give him space and tumbling off the bed in the process with a yelp. he grabs you with wide eyes, moving so he takes the brunt of the fall.
you land on top of him, watching as he groans in pain below you. your hands are resting on his broad shoulders, and they feel smooth beneath your hands.
he sighs, laying his head on the floor. he looks up at you through lidded eyes. âSo what now, genius? You made us fall.â
you shoot him a dirty look, âWell nobody told you to fall with me.â
âThis is the âthank youâ I get? Next time Iâll let you get hurt, brat.â he rolls his eyes with a scoff.
you pout, bottom lip pushing out. âYouâd let me fall and get hurt?â
he stares at you intently, not answering. you take the time to observe his face, wanting to burn the memory into your brain. you like the small bump on his nose. you like the way his bottom lip is slightly bigger than the top. you like the way his skin turns red easily, his cheeks often sporting a pretty blush even from the slightest chilly air. you like his thick curly hair, wondering how it would feel in your hands. you like his eyes too, dark and swirling with emotions youâve yet to unravel and discover.
suddenly realizing your proximity, your eyes dart to his lips. plush and full, they look so inviting. you subconsciously lick your bottom lip, glancing up to find his eyes are also on your mouth. and when he finally looks you in the eye, you know if you donât make a move now, you never will.
you lean in, slowly, and with a gentle exhale, you press your lips to his.
âž
a month later, you have sex with Kiyoomi.
it comes naturally, you think. soft kisses shared with hushed whispers were no longer enough. it led to heated touches and lust-filled eyes.
so when the two of you end up going further, you have no complaints.
he treats you exactly how youâd like, gentle in some ways and rough in others. you like the feel of his calloused hands caressing your skin, the rough bumps making him more attractive than you already thought he was.
and then youâre laying in bed, sweaty and covered in fluid. but his mattress is so comfortable, and your eyelids feel heavy.
âY/n, we need to shower.â
âOne minute.â you mumble quietly.
you feel a hand gently move hair out of your face, subconsciously leaning into the warmth of his palm. itâs gone before you can speak, and you have to force the whine down your throat.
you hear a sigh, and then feel a strong arm slide underneath your knees with the other behind your back as you are lifted into the air.
you squeak, hands scrambling to latch onto his neck. you look up at Kiyoomi with wide eyes, âSeriously, Kiyo? I can still walk, you jackass.â
he shakes his head with a small grin, and your hands itch to grab his face and kiss him senseless. âAre you sure you can walk? Iâm not sure you can after all that.â
you change your mind, you want to slap him senseless.
âHa-ha. So. Funny.â you deadpan, unable to help yourself and breaking into a smile when you feel his shoulders shake as he chuckles.
when the two of you are in bed, freshly washed and ready to sleep, Kiyoomi breaks your heart for the first time.
youâre laying your head on his chest, heartbeat steady and comforting as it almost lulls you to sleep.
his voice pulls you back, âY/n,â
you hum in response.
âI donât want you to misunderstand, I care about you, but Iâm not looking for anything serious right now.â the words are spoken softly, but they cut through your heart nonetheless.
your body freezes, and you have to force yourself to relax when you realize he can feel it.
so what if Kiyoomi isnât ready to date? youâre okay with kissing him, going out with him, and sleeping with him. youâre okay with that and not having a label. youâre okay with not being exclusive.
youâre okay with having him to this extent.
youâre okay.
âI understand. Donât worry, Kiyoomi.â
âž
five months later, everything is the same.
and yet, nothing is the same.
âI donât like this, Y/n. I think you should break things off with him.â Kuroo frowns, leaning into Akaashiâs side as he hogs the blanket to himself in the freezing cold apartment.
you pull your own fluffy throw closer, âThereâs nothing to break off, Tetsu. Thereâs no label.â
Bokuto walks in, clad in a black tank top and volleyball shorts. âYou can break off this unlabeled arrangement you have, Y/n! Just call it exactly that!â he smiles, hands on his hips standing proudly.
Akaashi coughs, âBo, please put your air conditioning lower. Weâre all going to get sick at this rate.â
Bokuto frowns, hands dropping to his sides. he walks to the thermostat, âSeriously? I think the temperature is fine.â
âThatâs because youâre not human, you beast.â Kuroo snorts.
Bokuto turns around, looking scandalized. âIâm not a beast! You two are just weenies!â
you giggle, âThank you for not including me with them, Kou.â
he salutes you with a cute little grin.
so maybe your friends were against your⌠situation with Kiyoomi. but you knew what you were doing, and while he might not want a relationship right now, youâre sure you can change his mind over time.
naive, perhaps, but youâve always been a romantic at heart.
âž
everything comes to a head at one of their volleyball games.
youâre invited, of course. being friends with a few of the boys had allowed you to show up earlier and get seats in the front row.
itâs not your first game, but youâre excited nonetheless.
until you see Kiyoomi with someone unfamiliar.
sheâs pretty, almost unearthly pretty. her hair is long, and cascades down her back like those magical waterfalls one would find deep in the forest. her smile is perfect, not crooked in the slightest. and when she greets him, her dainty hand smoothes over the skin of his arm; you walk faster.
Kuroo greets you first, with Akaashi and Bokuto coming behind him. you give them all your best wishes, but you canât stop the uneasy feeling in your stomach at the sight of Sakusa with that girl.
when Akaashi sees your line of sight, he grimaces sympathetically. âAh, thatâs one of his friends from high school.â
your eyes shoot to his, and you wonder what expression youâre showing, because he comes closer and wraps you in a hug. you release a breath at the touch, letting yourself relax as he pats your back.
when you go to greet Sakusa, the girl is still there.
sheâs sticking to him like a leech.
you try to get rid of the rude thoughts as you approach. she didnât deserve your jealousy, nobody did. because you did this to yourself.
âHi, Kiyo.â you smile.
he smiles back at you, and though it is small, itâs there. something in you settles when you think about how far the two of you have gotten.
the girl beside him is looking at the two of you curiously, but all you do is give her an awkward grin and turn back to Kiyoomi.
âUm, I just wanted to say good luck. I have a surprise for you, iâll give it to you after the game.â
he raises a brow, intrigued. âYou canât give it to me now?â
you huff out a laugh. âNo, silly. Itâs a reward for you playing today. I know youâll do well regardless of the outcome.â
his face smoothes out as he nods, âOkay, Iâll be waiting then.â
without another word you wave and turn around, walking to the seats and taking one in the front. you feel odd being the first to leave, but it was clear that the girl was not going to her seat until the game started. and while youâd like to talk to Kiyoomi more, you know you have to control yourself before you do something stupid like show him your jealousy.
the game goes by quickly, with your university winning the match. you cheer loudly, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. itâs times like these that you truly cherish the joy in life. even though you hadnât played in the game yourself, you can practically feel the positive energy radiating off of the players, and it fills you with excitement.
you run down and across the court, moving to hug your friends as you congratulate them.
âY/n are you going to come with us to get dinner? Please say yes!â Bokuto widens his eyes, bottom lip curling into a pout.
you smile, happy to be included but knowing you have to decline. âSorry, Kou. I already have plans with Kiyoomi. Can we raincheck?â
he nods sadly, and Akaashi pats him on the back in consolation.
âHave fun at dinner! Iâm going to find Kiyoomi.â you wait till they exit the gymnasium before turning around and looking for the tall dark-haired man you were enamored with.
you canât seem to find him through the crowd and the thought has you frowning anxiously. you stumble inside the group of people, breathing out when you finally see the end of the mob. with another exhale, you look up.
you see red.
because there is Kiyoomi, with the small pretty girl in his arms as she wraps her own around his neck. their faces lean in together, and if you didnât know any better youâd assume they were about to kiss.
without even knowing what youâre doing, you march right up and grab his arm, tugging him into you with as much force as you can muster.
he looks down at you with wide eyes, and even though his hair is damp with sweat and his shirt is sticking to his skin, you find him to be the prettiest in the room.
suddenly realizing how this looked, you let go of his arm and step back. âWhat were you two doing?â you ask, voice soft yet loud enough for him to hear. the crowd has begun to disperse, leaving only the team and their friends in the gymnasium.
the girl looks awkward, glancing between you and Kiyoomi before taking a step back. âUh, Iâm gonna get going now. Iâll text you later, âOmi.â
your eye twitches at the nickname, and when Kiyoomi simply nods at her, you feel like youâre losing your mind.
he says nothing to you as he moves to pack his things, stuffing his towel in his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. he doesnât even glance at you as he walks out, with you trailing after him like a lost puppy.
the walk to his apartment is short, but because of the silence it feels much longer; much more painful, like every step is with your bare foot onto glass.
when you finally arrive at his place, he shuts the door and tosses his gym bag to the side before turning to you.
âWant to explain what that was?â his face is cold, and the uncaring way he speaks to you makes you nervous.
you swallow, âShouldnât you explain? Why were her arms⌠Why did it look like you two were dating, or something? Why did you let her touch you like that?â
he chuckles, though it has none of the sweetness that it is normally laced with. âWhy the fuck does it matter? Youâre not my girlfriend.â
surprisingly, the words donât hurt as much as you thought they would. no, you knew that already. what really makes your skin burn is the way he looks at you.
you feel dread creep up on you, goosebumps arising on your skin as you shiver. the look in his eyes is unforgiving, a stark contrast to the normally fond gaze you are granted with.
maybe thatâs why it twists the metaphorical knife that is lodged in your stomach, scarlet blood seeping out as the squelch rings in your ears. it feels far too real, you can almost see him holding the knife as it digs deeper into your flesh.
âI never liked that about you.â
it's vague, but you feel like you understand what he means regardless. you ask him to clarify despite yourself. âNever liked what?â you whisper. your hands are shaking; you hold them behind your back to conceal it.
âThe way you act around me. Like weâre in a loving relationship when really, weâre just friends who sleep together sometimes.â the words spoken are firm, leaving no room for you to even question whether he means them or not.
âIâm sorry?â you sound breathless, asking him to confirm what he had already said.
his eyes darken further, and you swallow harshly at the sight.
âYou need me to say more to get it through your thick skull?â he scoffs, furious, and the sound cuts into your already wounded heart.
âI donât like the way you coddle me. I donât appreciate when you give me your opinions on things you know nothing about.â he pauses. you wait with bated breath, wondering how much more your heart could take.
âAnd, god, I really fucking hate when you show up at my games and smother me in front of everyone. Itâs uncomfortable, and then you put me on the spot and act like youâre my fucking girlfriend.â
it feels like someone has plunged their hand through your chest, tearing you apart as they grasp onto your beating heart; you can almost picture it, the way the mangled organ thumps erratically as crimson liquid seeps out between their fingers.
you inhale shakily, âI just⌠I love you, Iâm sorry.â
you look up, to see whoâs holding your heart hostage.
âI donât love you. I never have, and I never will.â
itâs him.
and fuck, itâs always him.
âž
two summers from now, Sakusa knows heâll be playing volleyball professionally, for the first time.
heâll have finished his fourth year of university, and he will be happy.
happiness.
Sakusa doesnât exactly understand the emotion. sure, heâs felt anxiety, rage, and satisfaction, but happiness? what did that even entail?
he sits silently, trying to drone out the professors talks of another essay, and suddenly regrets taking a psychology class. because the amount of writing it required was a bit too much, even for him.
and then his thoughts go back to happiness.
oftentimes, Sakusa is told he looks mean; grouchy. and yet, he remembers an old conversation with Atsumu.
âSo⌠you and Y/n?â Atsumu drawled.
Sakusa sighs, moving to pack up his things in the locker room. âItâs not like that, donât go spreading anything.â
the blond raises his hands in mock surrender, wet hair sticking to his forehead. âHey! I would never!â
and then he grins, though not as obnoxious as usual. itâs more kind, if anything, and Sakusa doesnât know what to make of it.
âIâm just saying, ya seem a lot less grumpy these days. Happier.â
Sakusa pauses, staring at the chipped paint on the wall.
Atsumu sighs, swinging his bag over his shoulder as he moves to exit. âSheâs good for ya, âOmi.â he pats his shoulder twice on his way out. âDonât fuck it up, man.â
Sakusa stiffens; not at the action, but at his words. he quickly places everything in his bag before zipping it up and heading home.
if heâs a bit dazed at practice the next day, no one says anything.
when Sakusa lays in bed, he recounts the last time he spoke to you.
itâs been two weeks, and even though time has passed, it feels like just yesterday you were standing in his kitchen with your heart on your sleeve, letting him use it however he wished.
he remembers feeling furious at you, for so obviously disrespecting one of his good high school friends. and then you hadnât even apologized, youâd instead pushed at him even more.
and then⌠he ruined everything.
he remembers the look on your face, the pure heartbreak in your irises as he carelessly spewed words he knew would hurt you.
it was not surprising when he walked into practice two days later to see glares of contempt by some of his teammates, who he knew were your friends. even Atsumu had looked at him and shook his head, and some part of him burned with shame. his mistakes were on display for everyone to see, and although he wanted to pull his walls even higher, he felt too distraught at the potential loss of you to bother.
he remembers laying in bed that night, finally deciding to break the silence between the two of you. but with a simple, âIâm sorry. Can we talk?â he was able to find out that he was blocked.
he felt ice run through his veins, pausing at the vibrant red letters, spelling Not Delivered. he quickly opened Instagram and Twitter and found you had him removed and blocked there as well.
fuck.
he had really done it now, hadnât he? he so naively believed that you simply needed space, and once he gave you a sincere apology the two of you could go back to the way things were; that you two could explore whatever non-platonic feelings he was beginning to develop for you.
but once he realizes the gravity of the situation, he wonders what the point is of experiencing love for the first time if it ends here.
it canât end here.
he makes it his mission to try to meet you.
first he showed up to your Thursday class, knowing it ended at noon and you had a two-hour gap between your next one. he has a coffee in one hand and a freshly baked donut in the other. he drove across town to grab it, knowing it was your favourite. he knows a mere donut cannot make up for what he said to you, but it felt wrong coming empty handed to reconcile with you. not when you deserved everything and more.
except when you see him, you immediately turn and walk in the opposite direction.
the action stings, and he sighs once you are out of view. the bag with the donut in his hand feels heavy, his hand tingling with the rejection. he knew you wouldnât forgive him so easily, but it didnât mean it didnât hurt.
I deserve this, he acknowledges.
I deserve this and worse.
itâs the next week when he has the chance to see you again; he knows youâre working, often meeting you at the cafe to pick you up and take you to his place home.
so with a deep breath, he walks in. the door bell chimes loudly, and he curses mentally when he realizes how deserted the place is at the moment. thereâs only a few people inside; a man sitting in the corner as he types furiously on his laptop. a woman and two others sitting on the side as they sip on what he assumes is coffee or tea.
and then he looks to the front, where you stand, and your eyes are on him.
the moment he takes a step forward, you stumble back, as if burned. he stops, unsure if he should keep walking or simply say something as he stands ten feet away from you.
unfortunately for him, you seem to come back to reality and swiftly open the door where it explicitly states STAFF. a moment later, one of your coworkers walks out with their customer service smile, and he deflates.
third timeâs a charm, he says to comfort himself. but even he knows it wonât be that easy.
itâs friday, and even though he had no idea if youâd be home, he figured it was worth a shot. so thatâs how he finds himself at your door, with a bouquet of white Tulips in his arms.
âHi! Is there anything I can help you with?â
he jumps slightly when he hears a high-pitched voice coming from behind him, turning around and smoothing out his face.
âIâm not sure.â he states quietly.
âThatâs okay! Is there anything in specific youâre looking for? A colour, or a meaning, perhaps?â
he frowns; it feels like all heâs been doing is frowning lately. âUh, maybe something bright? Or⌠something that symbolizes forgiveness?â
she smiles sympathetically, and he wonders what expression he must be showing to warrant such a response from a stranger.
and thatâs how he finds himself here. he shuffles on his feet, clutching the flowers to his chest protectively. with a soft inhale, he raises his fist and knocks.
silence.
he rings the doorbell this time, and still nothing.
he exhales quietly, his head dropping as he stares at the old carpet that covered the hallways in your apartment building. heâs been here so many times with you, but now he sees nothing but the back of your door and he has nobody but himself to blame.
he stands in front of your place for an hour, mindlessly staring at the wall as he recalls his words to you. how youâd handed your heart to him with your bare hands, only for him to treat it as though it meant nothing to him.
so on Sunday, he lays in bed and recounts the last two weeks.
he wants to wallow in self-pity, but then he hears banging on his door and wonders which unlucky soul will encounter his wrath.
he swings the door open, face emotionless and mouth ready to open and hurl insults at the other, until he sees his one and only cousin, Komori.
âHey man!â his cousin smiles, innocent and happy.
Sakusa hates it.
his shoulders slump as all anger vanishes, exhaustion left in its wake. âWhat are you doing here, Moyota,â
he walks back to his room as Komori closes the door. âbecause if you canât tell, iâm busy.â
Komori snorts, âBusy doing what? Moping?â
Sakusa glares at him, but in his disheveled state he merely looks like a feral wounded puppy. he crawls back under his covers, face smushed inside his pillow as he feels the other side of the bed dip.
âGet your outside clothes off my bed, Moyota.â
he hears a huff before the pressure is gone, and wills himself to sleep.
âListen, I know youâre upset about what happened with Y/n, but sitting in your sadness wonât get you anywhere.â
Sakusa continues to lay there. âMhm.â
Komori ignores the dry response, âThereâs a party on Friday. You should go.â
âWhy should I go to a party? You want me to drink my sorrows away?â his voice comes out muffled but heâs sure Komori can hear him regardless.
âY/n will be there.â
that gets his attention. he sits up, the covers pooling at his waist as he crosses his arms. âHow do you know?â his eyes narrow.
Komori rolls his eyes, âBecause, I overheard Kuroo asking her to come on the phone. Something about him finding her someone new to replace you.â
he clenches his fists, feeling the burn of jealousy take over. replace him? he knew you were well-liked in your program, often waving at people whenever the two of you walked together on campus. he was not ignorant of the stares youâd get from fellow students. but it didnât matter then because he knew his eyes were on you, and yours were on him.
but now everythingâs different.
now, your eyes are not solely on him. the thought has his chest hurting in a way that he can only describe as a stabbing pain.
âIâll go.â
âž
the week passes by too slow for Sakusa, but he knows itâs only because heâs missing you. when friday arrives, heâs feeling somewhat optimistic about meeting you and hopefully reconciling.
he scrunches the products in his hair, freshly washed from the shower. heâs wearing black slacks and a matching button-up. he places a few rings on his hands and moves to dry his hair with a cotton t-shirt once more before exiting his room.
âAbout time, dude. Why is your hair routine so complicated?â his cousin complains from his place on the couch, looking at him expectantly.
Sakusa grabs his keys on the counter, âMy hair isnât pin-straight, thatâs why. Why are you still sitting down, letâs go.â
Komori rises with a shake of his head as he walks to the front door and slips on his shoes. Sakusa waits for him to leave before locking the door and following him to his car.
the drive seems unreasonably fast, and his palms feel sweaty as he wipes them on his pants. heâs suddenly thankful he chose to wear black bottoms.
when he walks inside the house, heâs immediately hit with the smell of alcohol and sweat. itâs absolutely disgusting, and he has to remind himself why heâs there as he takes another step forward.
âLetâs go to the back! Itâll be less busy there!â Komori raises his voice, but Sakusa can just barely hear his words. he nods and follows his cousin to another room, breathing out in relief when he notices there are fewer people.
Sakusa subtly shuffles towards an empty corner, knowing Komori is following him. he turns around, leaning on the wall, âThese people are revolting. When is Y/n getting here?â
Komori scratches his head, tapping at his phone with one hand. âNot sure, let me check with my friends. Iâll ask where Kuroo is.â
he scowls, âWhy would that matter?â
âBecause he wouldnât leave her alone at a party.â Komori shrugs. âTheyâre real close.â
something in his chest feels tight at his cousins words. you and Sakusa were once close; and if you forgave him, heâd let you be even closer. he just has to apologize and hopefully smooth everything over.
a part of him itches to go and search for you himself. he feels on edge, knowing you are so close yet so far away. it unsettles him, the thought that if you donât forgive him heâll have to watch you from afar, and accept that someone will love and care for you all the ways he didnât.
but - does he love you? he cares for you, immensely at that. but does he love you?
he thinks about your pretty eyes, always filled with affection. he thinks about your ability to make people feel comfortable around you within minutes. he thinks about your small hands, your shy smile, the feeling of your hair when he twirls a lock around his finger as you lay in his bed. he thinks about how you look with the sun seeping through the crack in the curtains, skin glowing and lips slightly parted as you exhale softly.
his heart beat echos in his ears. he feels a flush take over his face and places the back of his hand on his forehead. he suddenly feels hot.
maybe he has a fever? but so suddenly? he swallows, the sound echoing in his head.
and then he finally sees you, drink in hand as you throw your head back and laugh.
his heart beats loudly in his chest.
he places a hand above it, feeling the erratic thumps beneath his palm.
ah.
so he loves you.
-
Sakusa waits.
he waits in the corner, a drink in his hand, courtesy of Komori as he subtly stares at you from across the room.
itâs been about an hour, and youâve yet to notice him. he cherishes the time, observing you from afar. he watches you giggle and wrap your arms around your friends, the gaping hole youâd left in his heart the moment you walked out of his life grows by the minute.
heâs contemplating what to do when you finally lock eyes with him.
he watches the smile slowly slip off your face, something akin to agony colouring your eyes.
he begins to walk towards you, not breaking eye contact for a second. it's like he's entranced. and when heâs right in front of you, he feels breathless; like your existence has left him at a loss for words.
âHey.â
his voice comes out rough, and he clears his throat when your lips tug downwards.
your friends are looking at him with distaste, even Bokuto who normally sports a happy grin seems fairly upset. it makes him realize what a huge fuck-up he is.
he shifts on his feet, âCan we talk?â
Kuroo answers for you. âNo, you canât. Youâve said enough to her.â he steps in front of you, shoulders pushed back.
Sakusa feels irritation bubble in his chest, but pushes it down, knowing that Kuroo has a reason to be protective over you.
âI just want to apologize. And, confess something.â his voice comes out more desperate than he thought it would. it sounds fragile, even to his own ears.
Kuroo deflates, if only slightly. âItâs still a no. Find someone else to mess around with.â
âI'm not messing around. I just, I need to talk to her. Please.â the cup in his hand is beginning to bend, the cheap plastic cracking as the drink sloshes around.
Kuroo opens his mouth to what he assumes refuse him again, until a small hand grabs onto his arm and steps in front of him.
he watches as you let go of Kuroo, looking more composed than you had been before.
âItâs okay, Tetsu. I can handle this.â your voice makes his skin tingle. he realizes how much heâs missed it.
Sakusaâs shoulders drop in relief. he feels so happy that you decided to talk to him, he doesnât even care that your friends are glaring him down.
âBut-â
you cut Kuroo off, âReally, itâs fine. Iâll text you if I need anything.â
Kuroo looks like he wants to argue, but you give him a look that has him backing down.
he huffs, âFine. Just be careful. Call me if he does anything.â
Sakusa stops himself from scoffing, annoyed with Kurooâs words. what would he do at this point? what could he possibly do to make things worse than they already are?
you pat Kuroo on the arm and walk past Sakusa, turning back. âLetâs go.â you donât wait for a response before continuing, and he follows you without a glance at your friends.
he tries to control his breathing, attempting to keep it steady as you enter the backyard. itâs empty, the chilly night air keeping everyone inside.
you turn around, crossing your arms. âSo? You wanted to talk?â
he licks his lips, rubbing his forearm with his hand. heâs thankful that he threw his drink out at the garbage can near the back door. he can feel his hands shaking, and hopes you donât notice.
âYeah.â he exhales, âHow have you been?â
you shrug, expression guarded. âFine.â
he nods, expecting the dry answer but still feeling a bit dejected.
âI miss you.â
the words come out so abruptly. the two of you stare at each other in shock, and he almost raises a hand to cover his mouth.
god, why did he just say that?
you laugh, but it comes out less genuine than heâs ever seen. âYou should be happy you donât have someone pretending to be your girlfriend, right?â
his face drops, and he knows whatever expression heâs showing is not as stoic as he thought. because with one glance at his face you look like you almost regret your words.
âI was.. I was so fucking stupid that night. I know you have no obligation to forgive me, but please let me apologize.â
you stare at him silently, before nodding.
Sakusa breathes out, âIâm sorry. Nothing I said was true. I was just⌠angry. Not at you, at myself. I had been denying how I felt for so long and when you asked me who that girl was, I just lost it.â
he stares at the grass rather than your face, not wanting to know if you look at him with an unforgiving gaze. âI realized that I had unintentionally entered a sort of- relationship with you. I was scared. I still am.â
he lifts his gaze finding your wide eyes. âIt was an unintentional relationship, but I wouldnât have done anything different.â
he pauses, âOf course, except when I ruined everything. Iâve stayed up every night since it happened thinking about how I could have responded differently.â his lips tug up, the expression bitter.
âBecause it was after that I realized my feelings for you.â
your brows furrow, your eyes darting around his face in pure confusion. âWhat are you saying, Sakusa?â
he ignores the ache of you using his last name, âThat I have feelings for you.â
the silence is deafening as crickets chirp in the silent night.
âI love you, Y/n.â
you stagger back, as if wounded. you shake your head, âNo, no. You donât love me, Sakusa.â
he doesnât understand your response. sure, you wouldnât be elated. he knew you were still upset. but you look like you genuinely donât believe him, like you refuse to believe him. he feels like heâs going to collapse if you walk away without acknowledging his feelings.
âWhat? Iâm serious, Y/n. I love you.â he reaches a hand out, drawing back when you flinch.
âIâm in love with you.â he whispers.
you look at him, as though he has caused you immense pain, before turning away and running back into the house.
Sakusa stands there, alone in the dark.
he wonders if love is supposed to be so painful; if he will always be the one to inflict the pain, cause the heartache, and leave everything in ruins.
âž
"Shit." you curse as you stare at the empty fridge in front of you. an old bar of havarti cheese and two stale apples stare mockingly at you.
so perhaps you haven't gone grocery shopping in quite a while, but you've been busy! with assignments, your friends, and... Sakusa, you have had too much on your head to worry about things like restocking your fridge.
but now it's nearly midnight, and you have yet to eat dinner. your stomach rumbles at you, and you press a hand to it in annoyance.
you can skip a meal, it's not the end of the world.
but then your stomach rumbles again, and it's starting to feel extremely uncomfortable.
you check your phone, just to see if you can order in. but with one glance at the delivery price, you click your phone off. you stare at the sad-looking apples and cheese once more, making up your mind.
the convenience store is about a ten-minute walk, five if you run.
without another thought, you grab a hoodie from the coat rack and put it on. you pick up your apartment keys and slip into your shoes, bracing yourself for the cold air.
the walk ends up being somewhat soothing, the normally lively city is quieter. you use the time to think about your relationship - or lack thereof, with Sakusa. you still remember when he professed his love for you two weeks ago.
you remember rushing back into the party and telling your friends you had to leave. Kuroo drove you home, and you spent the night eating leftover icecream and binging Jujutsu Kaisen.
why couldn't you date someone like Gojo?
but then you think someone calmer, more steady would suit your personality well. someone who you could rely on and with a bit of sarcasm perhaps. someone who has dark hair; you always liked curly hair on men.
someone like him.
Sakusa Kiyoomi.
your thoughts are cut off when you finally get to the store. the lights are bright underneath the dark sky, the bell chiming when you open the door. you quickly grab a few rice balls, and walk to the cashier. it takes you a total of three minutes to get what you want, before you're walking back out with a plastic bag in hand.
you look up as you walk, the stars twinkling prettily. they remind you of his eyes.
you really wish you could stop thinking about him.
Sakusa makes you feel like you've caught a never-ending sickness. like you will wake up each day with your chest in pain, with your eyes swollen from crying paired with your unstable emotions.
its exhausting, you think; caring about people to a point where they cannot understand or reciprocrate your feelings. and then you always end up like this. alone. you wonder how long it will take for the other people you cherish to leave you too.
your thoughts come to a halt when you hear footsteps behind you.
its dark outside, the streetlights only providing a dim yellow glow as you walk. when you turn your head, you notice a man in a hood. your heart immediately plummets.
fuck, what had you been thinking? you should have ordered delivery, screw the price! the money wasn't worth your life.
you walk faster, noticing the person speeding up their steps. your breathing is becoming heavier, and you can feel your legs trembling as you continue to walk. you know you can't go home, otherwise he will know where you live.
you make a detour to head to a park you've been to many times. it was about a five-minute walk from your place, and the thought has you walking faster anxiously.
when you hear his footsteps draw closer, you turn your head and see he is much closer than before.
your breath hitches, and you find yourself tearing up in fear.
you are about to resort to an offensive stance, prepared to swing your bag of riceballs at his head when you bump into something.
you gasp loudly, flinching so harshly at the suddenness of the situation. you look up, finding familiar dark eyes. they look at you with bewilderment, but all you can think about is the pure relief that pools in your stomach, the tears building up in your eyes finally falling.
you rush forward and wrap your arms around him, breathing in the familiar scent. your shoulders are trembling, but they calm slightly when you feel an arm wrap around your waist and the other smooth over your upper back.
he looks over your shoulder, and you are unsure what expression he is showing. "Did you need something?" his voice comes out deep and - angry. you wonder if you are hallucinating the protectiveness that coats his tone. his arms tighten around you further, causing you to relax in his embrace.
you wait, body stuck to his. you hear footsteps retreating, and breathe out shakily.
"He's gone." he says, voice low.
you nod, but you stay in your position for a few minutes, content to bury yourself in his embrace after such a terrifying situation.
"Kiyoomi?" you look up, placing your hands on his chest.
he tilts his head downwards, "Are you okay? He didn't do anything, did he?" his brows are furrowed, lips pursed. he looks extremely concerned, and you feel surprised that he seems to care about you so much.
you shake your head slowly, "No, he didn't do anything. I'm - i'm fine." you lick your lips, trying to convince yourself to believe your own words.
Sakusa doesn't answer you, but he does turn his head and glance back before looking down at you. "I'll walk you home. Are you okay to walk? I can carry you."
you don't have much energy left, but you manage to laugh anyway. "I can walk, thank you."
you gently push at his chest, even though you want to continue to stay in his arms. you don't have that privilege any longer, and you shouldn't have assumed you had it in the first place.
you nod, however, and accept his offer to walk you home. you'll let yourself be selfish just this once, and then you'll let him go.
the walk back is silent, but Sakusa sticks close to you. you feel safe with him next to you, regardless of the fact that he hurt you so deeply.
he seems to protect you from others, but never from himself and his words. you sigh tiredly at the thought.
when you get to your apartment, he insists on walking you up. once at your door, you look at him and shuffle on your feet awkwardly.
"Uh, thanks for helping me back there and walking me home. I'll go inside now." you reach for your doorknob but he grabs your hand, pulling you closer. his head dips down, and he closes his eyes with a sigh.
"Please, just talk to me. I can't handle this." his voice makes you shiver, and you curse your body for reacting that way to him.
you lick your lips, "Can't handle what?"
he opens his eyes, tilting his head further down to catch your gaze. "You being mad at me. You ignoring me. Please, tell me what I need to do to fix this."
the two of you are standing so close, your cheeks heat up at the proximity. he still makes you so nervous after two years of knowing him, and the thought has you annoyed with your weak heart.
a shaky breath escapes your lips. "I don't know. You really hurt me, Sakusa."
he looks at you, face pained. like you being upset is causing him pain, and your chest aches to make him feel better.
"I'm sorry, I love you."
the words bring you back to that night, where you bared your heart to him and he trampled on it without a thought. you feel the urge to let more tears slip out, but you are tired of crying over people that do not care for you. you are tired of being the one that loves more.
but he looks different now. his eyes are filled with remorse, and you want to kiss his frown away. maybe, just maybe, this time you wouldn't be the one who loved too much for their own good.
he wipes a thumb underneath your eye, swiping over your cheek. you hadn't even realized you were crying until the concern in his face grew. it makes you feel embarrassed and angry at yourself, but you canât find it in you to refuse his comfort.
"You don't mean that, Kiyoomi." your voice cracks involuntarily.
he shakes his head pushing your foreheads closer to one another. "I do, I mean it. I'll say it a million times until you believe me."
you huff out a shaky breath. "A million times is a bit dramatic."
"I'd do it for you." he moves his head to the side, pressing a kiss to your temple. the action has butterflies erupting in your stomach, unused to something so innocently romantic.
"You realize we have a lot to talk about? It won't be easy. I can't forgive you so quickly." you lean closer, tilting your head up.
he leans his head downwards. "I know. I'm sorry, just give me a chance and we can talk about it. I'll work hard to make you forgive me." the words are whispered close to your lips, his breath hitting your face. the minty scent is so Kiyoomi, it has your heart fluttering.
you know you have a lot to talk about. you can't just gloss over the month you spent apart, and you would have to talk to your friends about your choice to give him another chance. it would be difficult, and a risk. you were tired of pouring love into people who could not understand its substance.
but perhaps you can hope; you can hope that this time things will be different. that you'll love someone who will love you back all the same.
"Okay." you say softly.
he smiles, and you wonder if you are imagining the glassy look in his eyes. "Okay?"
you nod, whispering once more. "Yeah, okay."
he tilts his head down and captures your lips with his own, one arm sliding around your waist and the other in your hair, tugging you impossibly close.
you gasp into it, not expecting the desperation that leaks from his lips. he pushes you against the wall, with you wrapping your arms around his neck.
tomorrow, you'd have a lot to think about. you'll have to talk to him and figure out what's in store for the two of you. you will also have to face people who will surely disagree with your decision.
but that was a problem for the future.
for now, you're content to focus on the warm lips on your own.
EXTRA:
"So, what happened with that girl anyway?" your cheek is smushed on Kiyoomi's chest as the two of you lay in bed. you had come over to his place after his practice, and you were enjoying the skinship and cuddles.
he shifts underneath you, "Which girl?" his voice is drowsy, and you know he's falling asleep. you can't help yourself though, you've been curious.
you lift your head, smiling at his tired eyes. "The one from the game. She kept touching you."
you watch recognition fill his eyes as he hums, "She asked me to grab a coffee a few days after the game. Haven't responded though."
you nod, satisfied. "Are you going to? Respond, that is."
he turns, large arm wrapping around you. "Why would I do that when I have you? I'd rather the both of us get coffee sometime."
you laugh, "Are you asking me out on a date, Sakusa Kiyoomi?"
he smiles sleepily, planting a kiss on your forehead. "Yes. Let's get coffee soon."
you giggle, snuggling closer. "Okay, sounds good to me."
the surprise you had wanted to give to him after the game sits on his wall, framed and beside his bed. the drawing is one of your best, filled with the overwhelming love you know you could only ever offer to Kiyoomi.
love has always been something daunting for you. to love so wholeheartedly meant the likelihood of someone hurting you was greater. but you don't regret anything, not the slightest bit.
because you know how much love you have to offer, and as long as its to the right person, you know he'll keep your heart safe.
you love him, and you're not sorry.
a/n: 9.7k words later i refuse to read this again:â)
#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa x reader#sakusa x you#sakusa fluff#sakusa angst#haikyuu angst to fluff#hq x reader#haikyuu angst#sakusa x y/n#sakusa imagines
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hi i have a request that you're obviously under no obligation to answer but i saw that you did a royal au for sirius and i was wondering if you'd be open to doing another?
something like they're in a secret relationship and they're at the same ball and trying to act like they're the picture of good behavior but sirius is being subtly flirty and a menace?
Thanks for requesting sweetheart! Slight deviation, they're not together but this takes place just a bit after the first one <3
prince!Sirius x princess!reader ⥠2.2k words
Seeing as balls are generally marketed as the pinnacle of refinement, you hadnât expected this to be so loud.Â
Every time the hum of conversation rises, someone keeps telling the musicians to play louder too, until people have to raise their voices and it starts over again. A victor-less battle. You have an inkling that it might all be easier to handle if you had just a bit more wine, but youâre on your best behavior for your new family.
You try not to wrinkle your brow, leaning closer to the man in front of you as the violins crescendo. âSorry?â you ask, politely as you can.Â
A flicker of irritation crosses his face. You try not to wince. He tells you the title of his job again.Â
âAh.â You nod, trying to look as though you understand the importance of this jumble of fancy-sounding words. âThatâs so interesting. What does that entail?âÂ
Heâs thrilled youâve asked. As the man launches into a thorough description of his day-to-day duties for the kingdom, you contemplate how surprisingly relevant a competence in lip-reading might be to your new role as princess. Is this something youâre going to have to do all of the time? You havenât been able to make out half of what this man has said since he made his way over to you.Â
Itâs pointless anyway. As soon as you notice Sirius Black standing behind him, youâre gone.Â
Itâs been hardly a week since your illicit meeting with the Black heir. Youâd munched on chicken nuggets, traded complaints about palace life and your wildly different upbringings. When a guard had come to fetch him back to his parents youâd hid behind the door, and to the best of your knowledge youâve both pretended the meeting never happened ever since.Â
Now, heâs dark and gleaming under the light from the chandelier. He smiles dashingly at someone shaking his fatherâs hand, standing beside both of his parents and slightly in front of another boy you suppose must be his brother. You havenât actually seen anyone in his family before now, but the connection isnât difficult to draw; theyâre eerily similar. Pitch black hair and pale skin stretched tight over delicate bones. Most horrifying of all, theyâre wearing identical shades of black, the homogeneity of the menâs suits too precise to be incidental, exceptâŚ
Siriusâ suit jacket shimmers with a silver sheen in certain lights.Â
Your lips curve before you can stop them. You hardly know him, but already this seems typical; he has to be different. Has to set himself apart. Itâs less tiresome than it ought to be.Â
As though your thoughts have been broadcast across the room, Siriusâ head turns minutely in your direction. His eyes catch you and hold you.
Itâs lucky the man standing in front of you doesnât seem to notice how your gaze has wandered. He chatters on, unaware that your palms have slickened or that your heart has started pittering fiercely inside your chest. Sirius says something to his companions and peels off. He starts towards you.Â
You look back to your conversation partner, managing a nod of faux comprehension just before he reaches you.Â
You let your eyes flare as he stops beside the two of you, willing some surprise into your expression, but your voice comes out even more startled than you intend when you hiccup out, âYour highness.âÂ
âYour highness,â Sirius says back, the faintest of smirks curving his lips as he inclines his head to you, then the man in front of you. âLord Chamberlain.âÂ
Shit. How does he know this guyâs name and you donât?Â
Lord Chamberlain looks nearly as caught offguard by the princeâs notice as you are. âYour highness.â He puffs up. âI didnât realize we would be enjoying your presence this evening.âÂ
âYes, my brother was supposed to be the only one accompanying my parents on this visit.â Sirius sounds even more polished than the last time you spoke with him. Thereâs an easy grace to his posture, an inherent knowledge of the tiny moves that allow one to conform to the etiquette of this culture which youâre still struggling to grasp yourself. But his eyes flash when they meet yours, a glimpse of that waggish boy you met in the sitting room. âHowever, during my last visit I found an interest in your lovely kingdom Iâve not had before.âÂ
Lord Chamberlain begins to prattle on about the perfect astuteness of the prince, the many, many attractive qualities of your kingdom, few of which would be quite so perfect if not augmented by himselfâŚSirius nods with practiced diplomacy, waiting only for the man to take a breath before he turns his attention fully to you.Â
âI hoped you might join me for a dance,â he says, leaning closer so he doesnât have to raise his voice over the music. âThe next one is about to start.âÂ
âOh Iâm not supposedââ You cut yourself off, eyes darting to the courtier monitoring you from the edge of the room. You imagine youâre not supposed to say what youâre not supposed to do. âIâm really not much for dancing.âÂ
âCome on.â Siriusâ expression is teasing. âItâs rude to turn down an invitation from your guests. Isnât it, Lord Chamberlain?âÂ
Lord Chamberlain looks as though if Sirius proves that he knows his name another time he might be in danger of swooning.Â
âYes,â he chokes out. His eyes when they meet yours are something akin to desperate. âPrincess, itâs good form.âÂ
You catch yourself chewing the inside of your lip, stopping as you look back to Sirius. You donât think he would tattle on you for violating whatever atavistic rule requires you to dance with him, but Lord Bootlicker might.Â
âAll right,â you say. Far less polite than society allows, youâre sure, but Sirius grins nonetheless.Â
âExcellent.â He takes your hand, leading you away. âAlways a pleasure, Lord Chamberlain.âÂ
The other man stands where you left him for a handful of moments, looking dazed, before beelining towards a server carrying refreshments.Â
âI donât know any of the dances,â you hiss at Sirius as he guides you onto the floor. âIâm supposed to be staying away from here.âÂ
âItâll be fine,â he promises you, with the sort of confidence only a silver spoon can imbue. âIf you just follow in the direction I lead you, your dress will cover up any missteps and I promise not to squeal if you step on my toes.âÂ
You try to give him a droll look, but you can already feel it happening. Youâre succumbing to his charms again.Â
There are only a few other partners around you, but here in the center of the room the noise seems even more overwhelming. Conversations overlap, laughter rings out, and music echoes off every wall in the large room. And just in front of you, still holding your hand, Sirius Black is watching you with his flagrant intensity. Even his eyes are too loud.Â
He leans close to your ear, breath fanning over your cheek. âScoping out your dancing competency wasnât really my aim,â he says. âI only wanted to get you close enough to have a conversation without shouting.âÂ
You fear your thoughts must be bare in your expression. That afternoon in the sitting room was certainly memorable for you, but you were far from expecting Sirus to single you out afterwards. For all his talk about the novelty of you, he seems like the sort of person to have interesting interactions wherever he goes.Â
âPut your hand on my shoulder.âÂ
You blink. âHuh?âÂ
Sirius grins, and you realize your slip. No matter how the courtiers youâve been assigned have drilled into you excuse me, sorry, pardon?, Sirius undoes all your practiced manners with ease.Â
âYour hand,â he says again, âgoes on my shoulder.â
Just as you settle it tentatively atop of the faintly shiny material of his suit jacket, the music starts. Sirius places a sure hand on the small of your back and grins when you jolt.Â
âEasy,â he murmurs, taking your other hand and tugging you gently to the side. Everyone else steps that way too, and you let him lead you through the first steps of the dance. âI wonât bite. Not in front of your grandmother, anyway.âÂ
You press your lips together to hold in a laugh, eyes finding your grandmother, the Queen, watching you from across the room. Sheâs smiling faintly, but the courtiers with her look less than pleased.Â
You swallow, turning your attention back towards Sirius. âTheyâre upset with me,â you say. Itâs a relief to speak at a normal volume. You know your proximity means heâs the only one who can hear you. âI told you Iâm not supposed to be dancing.âÂ
âTheyâre not upset that youâre dancing, theyâre upset youâre with me,â he replies easily. He guides you into a turn that curls you into him, his arm laying across your chest for just a moment before he turns you back out. âI have a bit of a repute.âÂ
This, of all the things youâve learned about Sirius Black, is the least surprising.Â
âSo, youâre trying to ruin me, then?â you ask, half teasing.Â
Sirius grins sharp as a knife. He leans close. âSweetheart, I want to ruin you in all sorts of ways. Thatâs just not one of them.âÂ
Your momentary confidence drops right down to your stomach. If you thought youâd be able to play with Sirius and keep up, clearly you were wrong.Â
âWeâre going to do a spin,â he warns breezily, saving you from any response. He lets go of your waist, holding your joined hands aloft and using them to guide you away from him and into a twirl.
Only, you go for it too quickly. Youâre back in his arms while the other partners are still going through their slow turns. Siriusâ laughter barks out of him loud and sharp before he catches himself.Â
âOh my god,â you mumble, resting your forehead on Siriusâ chest and shutting your eyes in mortification.Â
âHey, itâs alright.â Sirius is still shaking with quiet laughter. His hand is friendly on the small of your back. âThat was stunning. All the other ladies wish their skirts had fanned out the way yours just did.âÂ
âIs skirt fanning really the object of the dance, though?âÂ
âItâs eye-catching,â he maintains. You can hear the smile in his voice. âYou can make anything lovely. Now stop hiding before one of your keepers has a stroke.âÂ
You remove your face from his chest hastily. Your eyes flit to the courtier at the roomâs edge before you return them to Sirius, cheeks burning.Â
His look softens. âDonât fret, gorgeous, youâre not the only one whoâs committed a faux-pas just now. That laugh earned me a proper glare from my mother. As soon as the dance is over, theyâll throw us into the dungeons together.âÂ
âWell, at least itâll be nice to have someone to talk to down there.â You bite down on a smile. Sirius, youâre beginning to notice, has a way of making all your worries about fitting into polite society feel silly. Nothing feels very serious when heâs around. Ironically enough. âDo we really have a dungeon?âÂ
Another startled chuckle goes through him. This one is quiet enough not to raise any eyebrows, moreâs the pity. âNot one currently in use. Itâs a relic, with a door going out to the street so tours can go through.â He smiles, borderline sheepish. âI went on one when I was twelve.âÂ
âYou did?â You canât stop the smile that leaps up on your face now. It shouldnât be so easy to picture Sirius as a child, but it surprisingly is. A bit shorter and skinnier than he is now, skin and bones and night-black hair darting around and causing trouble. Itâs an odd feeling to think that he explored your familyâs palace long before you could, somehow both twinging and reassuring at once. âIs there a reason youâve been here so often?âÂ
Sirius looks genuinely surprised at that. âNo oneâs told you?â At your bemused look, he blinks, seeming to compose himself. His hand flattens on your back. You hadnât realized heâd been gripping you. âOur families have been friends for literal centuries. My great-great-great-aunt was close with your great-great-whatever, and weâve never let our claws out of each other.â He gives you a conspiratorial look, leaning closer. âI canât attest to the relationship between the current ruling generations being quite so amicable, but we cling to each other nonetheless. Trade relations and all that. All that is to say,â he backs up, gifting you with a smile, âwe really will be seeing a lot of each other.âÂ
âOh.â Your chest flutters with an unidentifiable feeling. You donât know if you can handle seeing much more of Sirius Black. Every time you meet, itâs like he whittles away all your weeks of training and posture correction with a look. Youâll never make any progress if heâs constantly around to trip you up. âThatâs nice.âÂ
âYouâre doing remarkably well,â he notes. You look up, for a moment worrying that heâs read your mind (he seems prone to doing that), but Sirius goes on. âI donât know what you were talking about earlier, youâre a natural at this. My toes remain unsquished.â He gives you a secret smile. You return it wobbily. âThereâs another spin coming up,â he says with a teasing glint in his eyes, âthink you can handle it?âÂ
Honestly? You think youâre already dizzy enough.Â
#prince!sirius black#sirius black au#princess!reader#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x fem!reader#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x you#sirius black x self insert#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanfic#sirius black fic#sirius black fluff#sirius black imagine#sirius black scenario#sirius black drabble#sirius black blurb#sirius black oneshot#sirius black one shot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders x reader
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HONEY, DON'T FEED ME ⢠T. Hiragi
Summary: The last thing Hiragi wants to do when on the cusp of a rut is watch over his boss' bratty daughter (who he happens to find very attractive). Too bad for him.
Word Count: 5.4k
Warnings: guard dog!Hiragi, human!reader, fem-bodied reader, reader wears a dress and lip gloss, some a/b/o traits (ruts, pheromones, knotting), p in v, rough sex, reader is a bit of a brat, rich girl!reader, attempted assault, crying, mentions of breeding, biting, lil bit of blood, fingering, squirting, p in v, knotting, slight cumflation, Hiragi just goes kinda feral in this
Note: title is from It Will Come Back by Hozier. A big thank you to @lady-lauren for reading this and demanding more despite barely knowing Hiragi. I love you, bb. This is for @goxjoâs into the omegaverse collab. Make sure to check out the whole masterlist!
Hiragi rubs his temples, reminding himself to take even breaths. His irritation grows with each passing second, a growl taking form in his throat until he finally barks out, âhurry up or weâll be late!âÂ
He can hear movement from the other room, heeled footsteps, the opening and closing of containers. Just as heâs about to march into your bedroom and drag you from your little vanity, you decide to emerge.Â
âCalm down, Iâm ready, geez.â
You bat your eyes at Hiragi as you pass him, an amused smile playing at your shiny lips, and Hiragi has to bite his tongue to keep from calling you a fucking brat.Â
He has to fight that impulse every day, actually. Because you are a brat. A spoiled, privileged, doe-eyed littleâ
âWhat are you just standing there for?â you question with a little too much sass. âYouâre the one worried weâre gonna be late. Come on.â
Hiragi is just standing there because heâs trying to gather himself. You may be one of his biggest stressors in life, but that doesnât mean he isnât affected by you in other ways, especially on days like these when he could fall into a rut at any given moment. Itâs a little past due, if heâs being honestâthe general weight on his shoulders has done a good job of keeping it at bayâbut Hiragi has noticed that his patience has been thinner than usual the last few days. His senses are heightened, able to pick up on the most subtle scents as his dark ears twitch at every little sound.Â
Not to mention the persistent dull ache in his balls that he just cannot get rid of.Â
After this function tonight, once you're back home safe, heâs gonna have to find someone to take this out on, someone he can trust enough to ride it out with him.Â
Now isnât the time to think about it, though. Itâs unwise to let his mind wander to sex when youâre so close to him, looking much sweeter than you actually are in your little dress and strappy wedges, perfume and pheromones wafting off of your neck and making Hiragiâs mouth water.Â
Fuck.Â
All heâs gotta do is deliver you to your fatherâs dinner, stand watch for a couple hours, and bring you back home. Nothing more, nothing less. He only has to be around you for that completely reasonable amount of time.Â
Still, Hiragi feels dread settle in the pit of his stomach as he walks with you outside. He goes for one of his bossâ nice cars, keys in hand, but you catch him by his jacket sleeve and tug him in the opposite direction.Â
âLetâs take your motorcycle!â
âNo,â he shuts you down without hesitation. Your father has never explicitly told Hiragi that you arenât allowed on his bike, but he has told him that Hiragi is to keep you out of harmâs way. Itâs sort of his entire job. Having you up against him with a machine rumbling between his legs seems like a very unsafe thing to do.Â
You pout up at him, cross your arms and whine, âyou never let me ride with you!â
âYeah, âcause your dad would fuckinâ skin me.â
âHe doesnât have to know. Weâll leave before he leaves. He wonât even see it in the driveway.â
Heâd probably hear it, though.Â
It isn't actually his employment that Hiragi is worried about. Thatâs not why he wants to keep you off his bike. The real issue would be having you touching him for the duration of the rideâyour arms locked around his torso, your tits heavy and warm against his leather-clad back. Thereâs no way heâd be able to make the drive without getting hard on the way.Â
âPlease, Ragi?â you ask again, blinking up at him like a neglected puppy as you push your bottom lip out.Â
Unfortunately, it works, your expression triggering that protective nature inside of him. As maddening as it is, there is a part of Hiragi thatâs loyal to youâyour father as well, but especially you.Â
Why else would he put up with you?Â
âFine,â he grits out, pulling his other set of keys out.Â
You grin at him all giddy as two words fall from your glossy lipsâa phrase he both loves and hates because of what it does to him.Â
âGood boy.â
His temper flares at the same time that his cock twitches, and he grumbles incoherently the whole time he adjusts your helmet.Â
âLittle brat.â
âYou love me,â you retort, voice muffled by the visor Hiragi purposely pulls down over your aggravating, beautiful face.Â
As expected, the drive is tortuous. Your hands splay out on his chest, fingers clutching his shirt at every turn. He can feel the spread of your thighs behind him, and if he could shut his eyes to get rid of the mental image he would, but he canât because heâs driving.Â
Youâre hot pressed against him, or maybe itâs his blood boiling him from the inside out. All he knows is that if you were to move your hands lower on his abdomen, heâd combust. If you were to just slowly palm him through his pantsâŚ
Hiragi growls in frustration, accelerating a little too fast and making you squeeze him tighter. Fuck the speed limit; the faster he can get you to your destination, the faster he can get away from you.Â
The neighborhood that your fatherâs associate lives in is very niceâa neighborhood that Hiragi would have no business in were it not for you. He's finally able to take a full breath when he pulls to a stop and cuts the engine, but his heart stutters again when you spring off the bike.Â
Hiragi would be lying if he said he didnât immediately miss the weight against his back, but itâs best that you donât touch him. Still, now he has to wrestle with the sight of you as you pull your helmet off and smooth your hair back into place.Â
Your thighs are on full display, and your tits are literally wrapped in a bow, cleavage teasing him from behind the ribbon of your dress. Youâre like a little doll. So pretty. Probably fun to play with despite your pull string that makes you say all kinds of annoying things like, âwhat the hell are you looking at?â
âHah?â
âStop staring,â you laugh as you hand him your helmet. âYouâre gonna get dog drool all over your bike.â
âIâm not starinâ, and Iâm definitely not droolinâ!â
Your glossy lips twist into a knowing smirk, and you step closer to him. Way too close. He could pull you onto his knee if he really wanted to which⌠he does not.Â
âYou donât have to lie, I know I look nice tonight,â you tell him.Â
Oddly enough, it doesnât sound cocky. Thereâs even a glimmer of sorrow in your eyes as you absentmindedly poke the spikes of Hiragiâs collar. It makes him shiver, makes him reach up and catch your hand because if you donât quit it, heâs either gonna bite a finger off or cum in his pants. Not sure which.Â
You squeeze his hand before letting it drop, mumbling, âFather told me to dress up. Look my best. So I put on my cutest bartering chip dress.â Stepping back, you do a little twirl for him and plaster on what he now knows is a fake smile. âSo you like it, yeah?â
âI liked it more when I thought you put it on for yourself,â he admits gruffly, never able to control his mouth on nights like this.Â
It makes sense now why youâre supposed to be here. Your father wants to make a show of his pretty daughter, a strategy Hiragi has seen a couple times before. It had irritated him then too, but what heâs feeling now is different from irritation. Thereâs a sickness swirling in the pit of his stomach at the idea of his boss offering you up like some kind of business deal that needs to be signed.Â
âWell, hopefully this guyâs son thinks I put it on for him,â you say, and as you start to walk toward the large house you whisper to yourself, âhopefully he doesnât make me take it off.â
It wasnât meant for him to hear, but you should know by now that Hiragi will pick up most things. Youâre always teasing him about how sensitive his ears are, so you really shouldnât be surprised when he tells you, âIâll tear the fucker limb from limb if he touches you, got it?â
You blink your wide eyes at him a couple times before dissolving into a fit of giggles.Â
âOh my god, Ragi, donât be so dramatic!â
And, just like that, your spoiled brat mask is back in place.Â
Walking to the entrance, Hiragi smells the other hybrid before he sees her. The front door swings open to reveal what he assumes to be the family dog, just another one of his kind doing what they all do best: protect territory.Â
Sheâs tallânot as tall as he is, but she's got several inches on you. Black ears are tipped with white, moving like satellites to catch every sound of your approach. She eyes both of you up and down, but afterward her gaze rests on Hiragi.Â
âYou didnât have to bring your guard dog, little miss,â she sneers, an ugly sound that she punctuates with a wink in his direction.Â
âI go where she goes,â Hiragi grunts. Already, the other hybrid is putting out signals, putting out scents. Worse, sheâs picking up his. She can smell his wariness, his possessiveness, and by the gleam in her eyes, his impending rut.Â
âYou sure itâs a good idea for you to be in there?â the hybrid asks, holding up a hand of manicured claws to keep him from passing over the threshold behind you. It puts the stranger in a very precarious position.
âYou sure itâs a good idea for you to get between me anâ her?â he warns, the hair on the back of his neck rising as she crosses her arms and smirks. It straightens her back, pushing her tits up, and Hiragi picks up on a new aroma, a new interest. The female hybrid seems aroused by his dedication, taking it as a challenge she intends to win.Â
Maybe she will. Sheâs not unattractive. After this dinner Hiragi could just drop you off and come right back, ride out his rut with this stranger. She's obviously interested, so why not?Â
âHiragi,â your voice rings out, and when he glances back to you, he finds your hand outstretched, finger beckoning. âCome.â
Thatâs why not.Â
He nearly shudders at the command, spares the other hybrid a threatening lookâdonât try to stop meâthen brushes past her to join you inside.Â
If he were a smarter creature, he would spend the dinner posted outside flirting with the female while keeping an ear out for any dangerÂ
But, heâs not, so instead he spends the dinner leaning against a wall, eyes flicking between you and the young man youâve been seated next to. Apparently, heâs next to take over his fatherâs business, so itâs âimperativeâ that heâs here. Your presence isnât so obviousâat least not to the hosts. Youâre here to entertain and seduce, to wrap this boy around your finger so that heâll convince his father to take the deal.Â
Itâs nauseating. Hiragi watches the way you grin playfully, cover your mouth to keep from giggling loudly or inappropriately. Youâre delicate and sweet, docile yet temptingâa glimpse at a perfect little wife.Â
Hiragi hates it. As much as you annoy him, heâd take your smart mouth and bad attitude over this any day. It may be another costume that you wear, but itâs more genuine than this little show. Itâs definitely less filtered.Â
A hand dips under the table and out of Hiragiâs eyesight. He sees your body tense, smile fading into something tight as a wave of dread rolls off of you and straight into Hiragi. The smell is pungent, mixing with fear and anger and causing his upper lip to curl.Â
âI know you arenât baring your teeth at my young master,â the female hybrid says beside him. He hadnât even noticed her arrival, too distracted by your scent.Â
âIâll do more than bare my teeth if he doesnât get his fuckinâ hand off her.â
âSo touchy,â she purrs, moving close enough to brush against him, âtheyâll be fine. Thereâs no need to worry.â
He takes a step away from her, overloaded with the onslaught of aromasâyour panic, the kidâs desire, the hybridâs deceit. Sheâs trying to distract him, to keep him from watching too closely. Itâs not going to work. Hiragi only has eyes for you now.Â
And then yours land on his. He sees a plea within them, somehow silent and screaming at the same time. Get me out of here, please. Your brow is pinched, your lip is trembling, and your chest is rising and falling too fast, each breath like thunder in Hiragiâs ears.Â
âI-Iâm sorry,â you apologize meekly, slowly standing from the table on shaky legs, âIâm afraid I donât feel so well.â
You smooth your dress out quicklyâso quickly that no one else seems to catch how rumpled itâs gotten, how high it had been pushed up, but Hiragi notices.Â
Saliva pools in his mouth but not because of you or the sight of your thighs he so desperately wants wrapped around his head. No, itâs the kind of spit that drips from his teeth, that foams and spills and warns people: rabid dog, do not approach.Â
Hiragi takes a step only to be stopped by the female hybrid. His eyes are still locked on his target and its pulsing jugularâits face twisted into a petulant frown, like a child who just got his toy taken away.Â
âDonât you dare,â the female hisses, placing a hand on his chest. Hiragi nearly shoves her away. The only reason he doesnât is because of you passing him, gripping the leather of his jacket and tugging him along behind you.Â
Nobody tries to stop the two of you from leaving. In fact, the two older men remain lost in their own conversation, completely oblivious to the massacre that nearly took place right in front of them.Â
You donât say anything until youâre standing next to Hiragiâs motorcycle under the dark, evening sky.Â
âFucking entitled assholeâthinks Iâm on the table right next to the money. Who does that? Who justââ
There are tears shimmering in your eyes, rolling down your cheeks, and Hiragi doesnât think before wiping them away with his thumb. He can smell the salt and disappointment and resentment, considers tasting it but now is not the time. Heâs furious, ready to crack skulls and teeth and anything else. Thereâs so much blood pumping through his veins, hot and hungry for violenceâfor anything.Â
âI should fucking kill him,â he says more to himself than to you.Â
âDonât bother. He didnât get far. Barely made it into my panties before Iââ
âIâm gonna fucking kill him!â
He turns back to the house, about to take off at a god damn sprint, but goes rigid when he feels your arms wrap around him from behind.Â
âDonât,â you mumble, âjust take me home. Please?â Hiragi sucks in a breath, diaphragm spasming when your hands grip the fabric over his abs. âJust let me forget about it.â
This shouldnât be arousing. You were just assaulted, for fuckâs sake. But Hiragi has been riled up for days now, and youâve just gone and coiled yourself around him, so vulnerable. So needy.Â
His heart is beating too fast, pumping blood to too many places at once. It pounds in his head, courses through his veins like magma, travels down until his cock starts twitching, and Hiragi just groans.Â
âWe gotta get you home.â Itâs right there bubbling beneath his skin, that primal need he canât suppress no matter how hard he tries. Hiragi peels your arms off of him and grabs your helmet, unable to look at youâyour glistening eyes and pouty lipsâas he pulls it over your head. The street lights blur on the drive home, each one passing quicker than the last. He should slow down. He should stop taking the curves so fast. But he can barely focus on whatâs in front of him when youâre right there behind him. The domesticated part of him is slipping away, and he canât do anything to stop it. A particularly sharp turn has you squealing behind him, morphing into a high pitched laugh that Hiragi can hear over the roar of the engine. You squeeze him tighter, the heat of your palms going straight to his cock. What he wouldnât do for a little friction, to be able to rut into something. Heâs losing his mind. If he isnât careful, heâs gonnaâ âGet off,â he barks as soon as he pulls into the driveway. âWhat?â âGet off, and get inside,â he commands through his teeth. âHiragi, whatâŚâ you sound a little breathless as you kick a leg over the bike to stand. If he had been watching, maybe he would have gotten a glimpse of your panties, the ones that bastard tried to push aside to get to⌠He canât think about it right now. He canât fall into another fit of rage, and definitely canât think about anyone touching you. âYouâre not gonna go back there, are you?â you ask once you take your helmet off. âIâm fine, I promise! The ride helped. It was actually really fun!â âItâs not that,â he tries, hiding behind the visor of his own helmet, âI just need to⌠Look, Iâm having a bad night.â âOh,â you tilt your head to the side, âcan I help at all?â âNo!â You jump at his voice, and he immediately feels bad. âSorry. Itâs not you. I just⌠need to cool down.â âDo you need some water or something?â God dammit, he needs to leave. He canât just sit here with this bike rumbling between his legs. He canât just sit here and stare at you. âIt wonât help. IâmâŚâ he pauses, trying to come up with the right words to make you understand that thereâs nothing you can do. Nothing you could do without getting hurt. âItâs a hybrid thing.â You blink at him, donât say a word, just nod and let your eyes wander down his body until they land right where he doesnât want them. A multitude of swear words clog his mind because you were not supposed to get that. You were not supposed to catch on so quickly. Youâre not supposed to be clever, god dammit, youâre supposed to be his bossâ ditzy, bratty daughter. âI see,â you smirk, and Hiragi is helpless as you step closer, slowly reaching for his chin to loosen his helmet straps. âStop,â he warns, âdonât touch me right now.â The way you push out your bottom lip is so overdramatic, plush and inviting and in clear view once you slide the reinforced plastic over his head. âWhy not?â you question, eyes wide with faux innocence. Even teasing, your voice sounds so much more enticing than that hybridâs. âYou donât want me to?â You trace the skin of his neck just below his leather collar, and Hiragi stifles a groan. Heâs burning up, sweat trickling down his spine already.
âI donât wanna hurt you, and if you keep it up, I will.â
Your eyes light up. There may as well be fucking hearts dancing in them. Hooking a finger into ring of the collar, you tug.
âYou donât know a thing about me if you think thatâs gonna scare me.â
Hiragi cuts the engine, steadies the bike, and gets off of it all in one fluid motion. Heâs in your space before you can even calculate a threat, hands gripping your biceps as he backs you up toward the huge house behind you.
âBratty little princess askinâ for shit she doesnât know a thing about.â
âI know about it,â you challenge, letting him guide you to the front door where he types in the key code. âI know about ruts and⌠what youâve got down there.â
He chuckles, kicking the door behind him and pulling you flush against him. You made your decision outside, and thereâs no changing your mind now. Doesnât matter if you get scared or get hurt; heâs not letting you go.
âYeah? Whatâs that?â Hiragi spins you around to press his hips forward, grinding his clothed cock against your ass. âYou feel it?â
A sweet little gasp parts your lips, and Hiragi quickly closes a hand around your throat to catch the next one that falls when he slides his other hand up the skirt of your dress.
âNot the same as a human cock, you know that?â
You nod in his grip, trying to shove a clumsy hand between your bodies to feel him.
âI know. Still want it.â Your words are strained from the fingers clasped around your neck, a muffled moan vibrating in his hold when he licks the shell of your ear. He could cum in his pants right now, and it wouldnât matter. It wouldnât be enough. Not enough relief and not enough of you.
âWant what, princess? Gotta hear you say it.â
Actually, he doesnât. Whether or not you want it now is a moot point. Heâs too far gone for any protests, so hopefully your body will be able to take what heâs about to give.Â
A smile splits your face, head turning so that your lips are a hairâs width away from his. Youâre quiet but confident when you whisper, âYour knot. I want your knot, Ragi. Want you to stretch me on it andââ
He loses it, hand around your neck tightening to hold you in place while he crushes his mouth against yours. The fingers at your thigh dig into supple flesh, nails tearing your skin just like his teeth tear at your lips. He tastes iron but doesnât feel bad, just savors it on his tongue while he licks into you.
Youâre squirming but not away from himâtrying to get closer, grabbing the hand on your leg and moving it inward until heâs cupping your mound over your panties. You whine into his mouth, push your ass against his confined cock like a cat in heat.
Warmth radiates from your core, and Hiragi can feel your arousal seeping into the cotton beneath his fingers as he rubs you through the material.
âMy room,â you breathe against his lips, only able to lean in that direction as Hiragi doesnât let you take so much as a step. You have to break the kiss and use a different tone of voiceâthat voice, âHiragi. My room,â before it clicks in his head that this is an order, and he has to obey.
He does, but first he tosses you over his shoulder, mouthing up and down your thigh while walking down the hall to your personal haven.
Your scent envelopes him like a thick fog. It blurs his vision and clogs his throat and makes him want to howl. Hiragi has to fuck you. He might die if he doesnât.
Dropping you onto your bed, he doesnât even wait for your body to stop bouncing before he descends on you, slipping out of his jacket, latching onto your neck, pushing your dress up over your panties so that he can tug them off of you. He moves his face to your chest, teeth catching the ribbon squeezing your tits. He tugs at it, ends up ripping it, and revels in the sight of you.
The more time he spends with you, the more the animal inside him gets triggered. Sucking on one perfect, pebbled nipple, all he can think about are these gorgeous tits engorged with milk, feeding hungry mouths, the mouths of pups. God, heâs gonna fuck you so full, watch you swell with his cum and then his spawn. Canât be some rich boyâs wife if youâre too busy nursing, too busy taking Hiragiâs knot over and over andâ
He sucks at the swell of your breast, smooth skin drenched in his spit, and bites. Too hard. Breaks the skin, tastes the blood, then bites down harder.
âFuck, Ragi!â But your fingers tighten in his hair and your hips buck. The purest form of want pulses from the scent glands you donât even know about, filling Hiragiâs head, getting him stoned, a single word on repeat in his mind: mate, mate, mate.
All he can do is keep sucking and groaning and whimpering into your flesh. He wants you so bad, wants to feel your cunt wrap around him and milk him. You want him too, right? Wanna take him and be with him and let him breed you?
âPlease,â you beg, âplease, need to feel youâtouch my pussy. Please, Ragi, need itââ
He canât deny you. Youâre his master, and he is a slave to you.
Loud squelches echo in your bedroom as Hiragi plunges two fingers inside of you, your slick cunt sucking them in greedily, clenching around them over and over. As much as he wants to slam his dick into you, he has to prepare you first. Your little pussy wasnât made to take a knot. Hiragi has to make sure he wonât tear you apart when he gives you his.
Youâre bucking into every thrust, legs spread wide, and you finally break the seal of his mouth against your chest to bring his bloody lips to yours.
âOne more, baby,â you tell him, âget me ready for you, fuck.â Your jaw drops when he slides that third finger alongside the other two, hitting that sweet spot and fucking into it until you scream and gush into his palm.
âOhh, good boy, just like that,â you praise, encouraging him to keep going with a pleasing scratch between his ears. He noses down your neck, tongue lolling out of his mouth when you start making sweet little sounds, arousal leaking from your gummy walls and soaking his fingers until he pulls them out to watch you squirt like a fucking geyser.
Sliding down your body, heâs got his face shoved between your legs in record time, making you laugh and squeal as he laps up every drop, doing everything he can to make you cum againâ âall over my face, princess, give it to me, mark your territoryââ He roughly fucks his fingers into you, pulls his face back to stick out his tongue, then moans when you do exactly as your told and make a mess on him.
Hiragi is humping the bed by the time youâre done. Heâs dripping with you, smells you everywhere, barely gets his pants down to his thighs before heâs shoving his sticky cock into your fluttering pussy.
Thereâs no adjustment period, no waiting for you to get used to him or even take a breath. Hiragi sets a brutal rhythm, head thrown back, hips snapping as he loses himself in the feeling of your perfect fucking cunt. So soft and doughy, smearing slick and cream all over his shaft.
You pull his face down to yours for a harsh kiss. Your lips are swollen, and youâre still bleeding from where he bit you earlier. There are so many filthy smells in the air, the stench of sex layered with wanton pheromones. Your head falls back as Hiragi drives into your g-spot, fluid leaking around his cock.
âNever knew you were such a dirty little thing,â Hiragi pants.
The only response he gets is your jaw clamping down on the soft tissue between his neck and shoulder. Your teeth bruise before piercing flesh, drawing blood and leaving their mark.
âFuck, gonna make me cum,â he growls. You hum around his skin before lifting your face to show off a red-tinted smile.
âIsâat a bad thing?â
You sound drunk. Drunk off his cock, the way heâs fucking you, just like heâs drunk off the way youâre taking him. Squeezing him. Milking him. His knot starts to swell at the base of his dick, growing wider and rounder so that when he uses it to plug you, nothing will spill out.
âTell me you want itâwant it all⌠spoiled. little. bratâ,â he punctuates the last bit with a few well-aimed thrusts, each one moving your body up on the bed and making your tits bounce.
âWant it allâbe my good boy, Ragi. Be a good boy and gimme your knotâ...â His thrusts get sloppy but never stop. Gripping your thighs, he spreads your legs even more, watching the way he disappears inside of you. That heat builds in his gut, his balls tightening, and with his eyes locked on your creamy hole, Hiragi starts to bully his knot past stretched skin and straining muscle, pushing and pushing as you cry and moan, unable to settle on if youâre lost in pain or pleasure.
âAlmost there, princess, itâs almost in.â If you could see what heâs seeing, how pretty your cunt looks getting stuffed fuller than itâs ever been before. âFuck, look at youâŚâ
Hiragi slips in the rest of the way because you suck him in, pussy contracting with the first waves of your orgasm. You pull him in so tightly then scream as you cum around his knot, walls fluttering, too stuffed to clench the way it wants to.
The sensation has him plummeting into his own climax, his thick cum only adding to the mess inside you. Line after line, he fills you with it, watching the place just between your hips as it becomes bloated.
âOh my god. Oh my godâIâm⌠itâs so much,â you whine, looking down at your swelling tummy with wide eyes. âItâs⌠God, Ragi, mâso full. Canâtââ
He groans as the last bit of cum paints your cervix. His cock is fucking saturated in it, mixing with your own arousal, the pool of squirt you want to push out so bad but canât because of how heâs plugging you.
âGonna have to sit with it, baby,â he tells you, voice gravelly. âStuck like this until my knot goes down.â
You lick your lips, chest still heaving, and Hiragi is too hot for this, shirt drenched against his back. He pulls it off, jostling the both of you in the process so that you whimper and he moans. You're stretched thin around him, your pretty folds chubby from blood flow, puffy clit slick and begging for attention.
Hiragi smirks as he brings his thumb to it, chuckles when you instinctually pull away but canât. All you do is tug him forward, bringing him down on top of you. He uses one hand to catch himself, the other still between your legs, and plays with you until youâre cumming again, tears streaming down the sides of your face when he doesnât stop.
Heâs long past domestic, now in a feral state as he licks up your cheek, catching the salt on his tongue. His thumb keeps rubbing circles on your overstimulated bud, and your legs tremble violently, still spread wide to accommodate him.
Your next orgasm pulls his second from him. He shoots another large load into you, abandoning your clit so that he can place his hand on your belly.
âYou didnât know what you were getting into, did you?â he hums, nuzzling into your neck, âdidnât know you were gonna be all swollen with my cum.â
You shake your head, more tears falling, but your words betray any discomfort you might be feeling.
âWant m-more of it,â you sniffle.
Hiragi growls and nips at the skin below your ear, heart full of primal possession and affection as his cock throbs inside of you.
âIâve got so much more to give you,â he murmurs, kissing the bruise he just left. âIâll spoil you real good, princess. Promise.â
#hiragi x reader#hiragi toma x reader#hiragi toma smut#wind breaker smut#wind breaker x reader#wbk x reader
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The nanny
Joel miller x f!reader 18+ explicit
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Fetish teacher!joel x f!reader
Summary: You've worked for the millers for a while, you love Sarah she's an amazing little girl. Your favorite part of going to his house is being able to see Mr. Miller, and how good he looks in his dress suit.
Warnings: Age gab (in her early 20's, he's middle 40's) pet names, Hard Sex, teabagging, almost got caught, unprotective v in p.
A/N: He has money, he is humble, he has problems with his wife, he loves Sarah and we love him, let him give us good love. if you want a second part let me know sweethearts <3
At the Millers' house, you were drawing with Sarah in the living room, it was afternoon. The Millers almost never asked for your service for many hours, this time it would be all day, until 9 p.m. or until they told you.
Mrs. Miller had an event of her company, which she would attend from 5:30 to 11:00 p.m. On the other side, Mr. Miller worked in the morning but returned home in the afternoon, around 4:00, and would be busy with zoom meetings.So you'd take care of Sarah until he was done.
From the moment you set foot in his house, you found Mr. Miller fascinating. But you were professional and you needed the job, he always treated you well and you were the same, they always asked for your opinion on things, they trusted you in any situation.
He's a good father to Sarah, he's a good husband, despite the constant fights they had lately, he's always respected her, you can see the love he has for her.
Although⌠You couldn't get it out of your head that day when you were in the pool.
When Mrs. Miller called you to babysit Sarah in the afternoon, you thought you'd be alone, but you'd not. Mr. Miller was working from home. From the pool you could see him through the window that looked out onto his office.
You could see the way he stared at you while he was on the phone, how he looked away from the computer as he typed to check you out. When you took Sarah to bathe and put her on her nap. The way he smiled at you when you went to say goodbye to him, the way he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him to kiss you on the cheek.
Today he would have a morning event at work, something a bit formal. His wife, Mrs. Miller, made him buy a suit. He was a man who liked casual clothes, a pair of jeans, some plaid shirts or simple T-shirts. You were deeply grateful to Mrs. Miller for making him buy that suit, because godâ" You never thought he could look better than in his plaid shirts.
He is tall, broad, broad-shouldered, in fact his body is very well proportioned thanks to his work. He is a contractor but before he was dedicated to all the loading and repairing part, now he is more in the area of design and site preparation. although it is still doing repair work. His arms are wide as are his forearms, broad back. You could imagine something else wide.
He had a strong profile, stood out in the most beautiful way, his jaw covered by his dark, grayish beard, and his lips decorated by a mustache that barely touched his upper lip.
And his eyes⌠Well, his eyes were two big, round dark spheres, which every time they looked at you, made you feel like you were the only person in the room, with that intensity of eye contact that brought you to your knees.
You heard his heavy footsteps down the stairs as he spoke to his wife. You looked up as you felt him enter the living room, right in front of you, wearing dark dress pants, light blue shirt, with the last button open exposing his exquisite tan collar⌠A dark blue tie hung from his hand.
His hair, fresh out of the shower.
"How do I look like?" he said, adjusting his tie behind his neck
"You look better than in your jeans." His wife got up from the couch to walk over to him and help him tie the knot
He looks good in everything, he looks so good
"And the jacket?" his wife looked him up and down
"I'm not going to wear a jacket," he said, buttoning the last button of his blue shirt
"It's a formal event, you must wear it"
"No, it's too early and hot to wear it" he buttoned the buttons of his sleeves as he walked towards Sarah and you
He sat down in the couch behind Sarah to see what she was doing, while exchanging a few words with her, Mrs. Miller went to get the jacket and threw it to the side of him in the couch, he just looked at her seriously as he leaned on the back of the couch and his legs remained open.
"You take it, and you'll tell me if you don't use it," she told him before going upstairs to her room to get ready
After Mrs. Miller left, the air changed. At least for you it did. You felt Joel's gaze on your neck, a feeling of nerves ran through your entire body, although you decided to ignore the fact that his knee almost touched your shoulder, you decided to give all your concentration to Sarah while she told you about the animals you were painting.
A few hours had passed since Joel had left, Mrs. Miller was about to leave, right at the door saying goodbye to her daughter. She, like Mr. Miller, looked beautiful. She wore a purple dress that highlighted her warm skin.
You had a good time when you were alone with Sarah, one of your favorite activities was playing Taylor Swift music and singing at the top of your lungs. You enjoyed swimming, making brownies, and drawing. She was a quiet, obedient and above all honest girl, she even told you secrets from her school.
She loved being with you. Once on vacation when you weren't working, she asked her parents to talk to you so you could spend the afternoon with her. Despite being 8 years old she was a responsible child with her homework, she always reminded you to do it.
You knew things about her, like she knew things about you. You were best friends.
Hours passed, Joel was already at home, but he was in his office working as he had meetings by call. Normally when one of them arrives you always put Sarah to take a nap and go home, after a long day for everyone it was the best solution to lower her energy.
"I don't want to sleep, I want to get in the pool," Sarah said as she pouted sitting on her bed
"You know the rules, no pool after 6 p.m., and you have to take your nap." You said as you closed the curtains a little and turned on her vanity light
"Can you convince my dad to leave us?" you looked at her and she smiled at you, cocking her small head
"No, I can't," you laughed and saw her eyebrows gather in anger
"He won't say no"
"And why wouldn't he say no" You looked at her with a thoughtful face
"Because he likes you," she smiled at you and her hazel eyes sparkled
You opened your mouth in surprise
"And where do you get that?"
"Because he was telling my mom again that you were one of the best babysitters I've ever had."
"Do you think that?"
"sure" she smiled to you
"Well anyway I can't do it honey, you'll have to take your nap, on the weekend we'll probably be able to swim okay"
She just went to bed with a pout on her face
"Can I at least read the story myself? it's just that I'm not very sleepy."
"Do you want to read it alone?" You took the book off the shelf and gave it to her
She just nodded happily.
"Okay, I'll let you read the book, but you promise you'll fall asleep?" You pointed to it as a warning
"Yes, I promise"
"Little hand" you made your hand a fist, placed your thumb on your lips while extending your pinky finger in her direction, she did the same as you, and they joined their pinky fingers in an embrace.
You walked to her door and waved goodbye, telling her to keep quiet so her dad wouldn't hear her.
You closed her door slowly, then walked down the hall and headed for the stairs. The house was dark, you had left a lamp on the side of the stairs to light them.
Going down the stairs you turned to enter the living room. When you looked up you jumped and put your hand to your chest, Joel was sitting on the couch with only 2 lamps on that reflected a dim light in the room.
He had reports on the coffee table and his laptop was resting on the edge of it. He looked up at you. He was wearing dark square glasses, in his hands he held a notebook and pen and, he was still in his clothes from this morning.
"God!"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said, leaving his notebook and pen on the side of his laptop along with the rest of the papers.
"Don't worry" You got your posture back by watching it from the entrance "I thought you were in your office"
"I was there, but I needed air, I couldn't last another minute"
You both stared at each other, you trying to control your nervousness as he looked you up and down.
"Sarah's already fallen asleep?"
"Yes, she just fell asleep" You walked over to the couch where he was, your bag resting a few feet away from him. You took it, looked at him and just smiled and walked away
His raspy voice rang in your ears.
"Hey, I wanted to know if you couldn't stay another hour" You looked at him confused "I'll be busy with another meeting"
"Oh okay sure, no problem" He just gave you a smile and started typing on his computer, you just sat next to him on the couch, saying nothing.
Sitting next to him, you couldn't help but look at him and see how sexy he looked in the dim light in the room. What would it be like to be loved by him? How would it feel to be touched by him? What would it feel like to kiss him?
No, you can't think that, it's Mr. Miller we're talking about, that's not healthy or right, he's married and has a daughter, a daughter that you take care of in the trust of their house.
The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up below his elbows. You could see the hair in his arms, and his veins underneath them.
He was so focused on what he was doing.He looked calm, you couldn't think why he and his wife were always fighting, you would be very happy by his side.
You came back to reality when his eyes turned to look at you, and a smile appeared on his face. You just settled back on the couch, a nervous smile on your face. Joel stopped writing and leaned back on the back of the chair, and like this morning, his legs spread, his knee touching yours.
"So⌠How's college going?" He put his left arm behind the couch, leaving his hand behind your shoulder.
"Mmh I⌠I don't go to college anymore, I graduated a few months ago."
His brows furrowed, "Mmj, and what was your career?"
"Architecture" you smiled as you nodded and looked away from him
"You haven't looked for a job yet"
"Yes, I have, but⌠Since I'm still new to the field, they don't accept me in any of them" You played with your fingers as you watched them intertwine.
"If you want, you could be an intern in the construction I work in"
You looked at him and your eyes softened "for real"
"Of course" a soft grimace was on his lips, causing his eyes to become small and the edges of their eyes to appear wrinkled.
You just smiled at him in the same way, and when you lowered your head to your lap, you felt his hand, the same hand behind you, caress your hair. You turned to look at him and his eyes wandered over your breasts that were slightly shown by the collar of the shirt, his eyes ran over it until they reached your face.
"You are so beautiful, did you know that?"
His eyes were even darker with the light, his lips parted. It didn't help you stop your thoughts.
"Yes, I know," you said in a whisper as you saw his lips, his face, his eyes
His hand went from being in your hair to being on your cheek. He stroked you with his knuckles slowly, as he watched the places where he caressed you. You didn't take your eyes off him. He came closer to you being inches from your face, while his hands rested on your jaw, following the shape of it to your chin and resting his thumb on your lips.
"You have beautiful lips" His thumb caressed your upper lip to your lower lip slowly.
You didn't know what to do or how to react, you never expected this from him. Why was him this way just now?
He came up to you and left a kiss on your cheek, close to your lips. You could feel his breath brushing your lips. Until you just decided to put your lips together with his.
You closed your eyes to the contact. Your lips moved in time, slowly as he held your face with his left hand.
The kiss only intensified when you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, sliding your hands down his chest. You parted for lack of air, but your foreheads stayed together.
"Is it okay for us to do this?" you asked him, begging him to say yes, that he wanted to kiss you, to feel you⌠But a little part of you told you it was wrong
"I want it, I've wanted it for a while" He caressed your face and brushed his nose with yours "Do you want it to happen?" He looked straight into your eyes
"Yes.." you swallowed seeing it "But⌠your wife."
"Don't worry about her, she won't know this happened"
You stared at him gasping for breath, thinking of a million things that could happen. If she found out you would lose your job, you would be embarrassed if your parents knew the reason why they fired you, it would be a torment in your head if they separated because of you. You didn't want to be the other woman, but if it happened one time, you put the feelings aside, you could enjoy it.
You could have this experience and not be left wanting.
You joined your lips with his, making your teeth collide, the kiss was intense, your tongues caressed each other, asking for more. You couldn't help but slide your hand from his chest to his crotch, you felt a bulge through his dark pants. You massaged him up and down, feeling his harder length.
You heard him growl with pleasure from your hand, your movements so soft, your hands on him and your panties getting wetter and wetter.
Your hands went to his belt, undoing it with a speed that showed how impatient you were.
"shh calm down, I know you want this cock inside you honey"
"I want it in my mouth too" you looked at him with puppy eyes as you got off the couch and knelt in front of him, you positioned yourself between his legs and guided your hands to unbutton his pants and unzip him.
"oh baby, you will be the death of me"
He settled better on the couch, he helped you lower his pants, staying in boxers, he placed his right hand on your head, caressing it.
You guided your head and your hand close to his member that was still covered by his boxers. You could perfectly see the shape of its length, the thickness of it. You placed your mouth on it, leaving a trail of kisses along its length on the fabric. A growl left his lips, prompting you to pull the hem of his boxers down a little, making his head peek out.
You turned to look at him, he smiled at you and nodded for you to continue. You licked your lips and placed a kiss on the tip, this made his hips rise a little, he was asking for more, but you wanted to play with him a little before putting him in your mouth.
You stuck out your tongue and ran it along his length as you landed your lips and gently sucked on the sides of his member. Your hands wandered over him, you touched the tip of his head with your right hand and felt how he moved due to the cold contact of your hand on his very warm length.
"Come on baby, show me what that little mouth can do." He told you in a low tone and with his raspy voice.
You pulled down his boxers so you could free his member. Your jaw dropped when you saw it. It was thick, definitely not too long but it wasn't small either, it was a size that you considered perfect. Its length rested on his stomach which was still covered by his blue shirt.
"I know you can take it, show me how well you suck it."
Damn, with that language I would let him do whatever he wanted to me
You took his length with your right hand, a smile forming on your face when you realized that your fingers were not touching your thumb on the other side. first time you had one like this and you were going to enjoy it. You left kisses on the tip and then put the head of his member in your mouth, delicately sucking it, while you heard moans and grunts come out of Joel's mouth.
Both of his hands were placed on your head, urging you to take more of his length into your mouth, and so you did. You opened your lips wider to give him access to more of him, his hands guiding you up and down as a trail of saliva ran down his member. Your right hand didn't stop moving, it followed the same movements as your head.
you wanted to give him more, you wanted him to feel satisfied by your mouth. You took his member from your lips, only touching it with your hand, you looked at him through your eyelashes and you could see how excited he was, his eyes screamed for your attention. You lowered your head so you could kiss his balls.
You put one in your mouth as you slowly sucked him, while your right hand masturbated his member. You looked at him and watched with his head thrown back while moans and moans left his lips. He lowered his head to look you in the eyes, you saw how his teeth pressed together, how his neck would tense and his neck veins would show through his sweaty skin, his eyebrows united in excitement .
You continued sucking and touching his member while he undid the knot of his tie and tossed it aside on the couch.
Joel leaned over to you, pulled his testicles out of your mouth, and grabbed you by your armpits to pull you up.
"I don't want to come in your mouth honey, I need to do it inside you" as he told you that he placed you on his lap, each leg on one side of his hip.
You were wearing a shortboard skirt, so he had easy access to your underwear. With his hands he pulled your skirt up until it folded up to your back, and with both hands he pulled your panties down. You lifted one leg so you could pull it out of your panties and leave them hanging by just one.
He slid his right hand between your legs so he could caress your clit that ached for attention. You moaned at the touch of his calloused fingers on your soft skin. You were so wet that you could feel the remnants of your wetness on your inner thighs.
"Hell sweetheart, does this tight pussy cry for attention?"
You suppressed your moans by biting your lip as you looked straight into his eyes, the only thing you could see in them was your reflection as his eyes were darker than they were, you could see how he needed this as much as you did.
"Just fuck me please," the words came squinting from your lips as little whimpers followed.
Without telling you, he placed you on top of his cock, you felt how he guided the tip in your entrance making you sigh, without further do, he entered you suddenly. You let out a loud moan that caused you to bend over and bite his shoulder so you could silence your scream.
He began to move and penetrate you tightly while holding you firmly by the hips. Your breasts were a few inches from his face, practically bouncing off his chin. The place became a sauna of sweat, moans and gasping breaths from both of you. You straightened up so that you could take control of the situation, seeing your action he let you take control and ride him.
He looked so good from above, you could feel the firmness of his hands, as they traveled from your breasts, to your hips, waist and buttocks squeezing them firmly, he spanked you to encourage you.
"You're so good, God you look so beautiful from here," he said in a voice choked from lack of breath as he approached your breasts and kissed them over the fabric biting a little over the top.
"Shit" you couldn't control your moans, the more you felt your orgasm build, as you watched the gestures on his face, the way his neck tightened, your hands on his hair, on his face as you leaned in to kiss him. A deep kiss that led him to stick you to his chest, hold you in place and penetrate you hard.
His balls bounced off your ass, echoing around the room as it mingled with your whining between his lips.
"I'm coming Joel" his name came out mostly in the form of a moan
"Come on baby, let me hear ya"
Your orgasm hit you hard, you couldn't help but let out a loud moan that echoed through the room, whining coming out of your lips as joel penetrated you mercilessly. Joel's moans were present as he kept pace with his lunges. From one moment to the next you could feel his movements losing pace as moans came out of the back of his throat.
You knew he was about to end when the sound of an engine came through the entrance. You froze, you knew it was his wife, you looked at him and he had his eyes closed as he penetrated you, you knew he was concentrating because he heard him too.
"Joel," your voice cracked from the friction your was receiving.
The grip of his hands around your hips intensified as he opened his eyes and looked at you, his movements were slowing down but you could see through his eyes how he was collapsing little by little.
It wasn't enough a couple more thrusts and the sound of a car door closed, so that he came down hard inside you, silencing his moan on your lips as he penetrated you deeply a couple more times to empty itself completely into you.
Hearing the keys in the lock, you both got up, you fixed your skirt while he quickly buttoned his pants and shirt. You got away from him by taking your things.
Joel adjusted his hair as his wife's heels echoed across the floor of the house.
You could feel Joel's fluids trickle down your inner thighs. You could feel your cheeks red and hot from all the blood that went down your face, the heat you felt emanating from your body.
His wife thanked you for taking care of Sarah. Before leaving you were saying goodbye to his wife and you turned to look at him, he was behind her a few meters away from you, he smiled at you, but this time it was different, it was a smile you had never seen, your eye contact ended with a wink from him.
You didn't know how the hell you were going to work for them.
You didn't know how you were going to walk into that house every day and see him leave, see him come home from work while you take care of his daughter.
But if you knew anythingâŚ.. This wouldn't be the last time it would happen
#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#smut#joel tlou#x reader#fanfic#joel x f!reader#joel x female reader#joel x you#joel miller x you#age g4p#joel x reader
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â rich boy things â hyunjin + car sex .
𼥠smut includes, fem!reader, dry humping, hand jobs (while heâs on the phone with his father), mentions of ruined orgasms (because he absolutely loves teasing the shit out of you), lovesick + pussy drunk hyunjin, etc etc. word count: 971. (MINORS DNI.)
đ note: its been a while but hihi, im back!! i was initially going to post something else??? but this has been in my drafts since april
Šlix-ables 2022. consider leaving comments and feedbacks !! happy reading âš33
hyunjin was annoyingly pretty and he knew it, so sneaking around on the campus way past your curfew can be excused, right?Â
here you were in his carâs passenger seat with your hand wrapped around his dick while he was on an important call. how did you know that? because he told you it was his father, and still your fingers played with the tip, your palm resting under your chin as you watch him shut his eyes.Â
his other hand moves to wrap around the wrist that was currently busy, and he turns to look at you. âyes dad, i understand,â he sighs and replies. âno im not out racing. iâm with the boys. panting? have you thought maybe it's your hearing?â hyunjin clears his throat and shifts in his seat, making your hand fall on his thigh. but that gave you even more of a reason to stroke him instead of just touching him. a little teasing wouldnât hurt no one. your thumb rubs circles on his tip before wrapping your whole hand around it, earning a small grunt from him.
âlisten i need to go. they need my help with something. yes, iâll call you tomorrow.âÂ
âyou like what you see donât you, darlinâ?â hyunjinâs voice stops you from your task, and makes you look at him. he stares at you, smiling before setting his phone in his jacket pocket.
his hand finds your bare thigh and you curse yourself for wearing pj shorts while it was cold outside. âi thought i told you the call was important,â he mumbles, his fingers snaking all the way up to the hem of your shirt and tugging it toward him. âi want this off,â he nods at your shorts, and you bite your lip in frustration. âi thought we were here to talk,â a whimper leaves your throat when he pulls you to him. âweâre talking. this is good communication, donât you think?â you let him pull you onto his lap, and you struggle out of your shorts in the process. âi was getting ready for bed, itâs way past curfew what if someone ââ hyunjin presses a kiss to your lips, his hands wrapped around your waist and it just dawns to you, that his dick is still out, and is now between the two of you. âno one is going to come here, and you know that,â he smiles again, his finger twirling around a strand of hair that wasnât held together by the band.Â
you hum in response, the chill breeze making goosebumps form on your bare skin and you grind against hyunjinâs dick. youâre probably going to have to buy new underwear but fuck it. âthis again? and you said you wanted to talk,â he smirks, tugging on the strand of hair in his hand, and his fingers find your shirt, pulling it up so he has more access. your hand wraps around his wrist when you feel him move your underwear aside, and he clicks his tongue. âbaby, let me in hmmm? itâs not fair that only you get to do the teasing. it works both ways. besides, no oneâs around so i could probably edge you say, four to five times? iâm sure you can take it yeah? because i sure as hell want to see that tight and pretty pussy of yours clenching around my fingers when i donât let you come.â hyunjin tilts his head to look at you, he shifts the material a bit more before resting two fingers to your clit, and pinches it a little. your thighs shudder at the feeling and he leans back against the seat. âyouâd beg me to let you come, but you wonât. you like it too much hmm?â
you nod and his hand reaches down and finds the adjustment lever at the side and moves the seat back a bit more, so there is space for both of you. âwhen i didnât see you in class today, i thought something had happened,â he mumbles as he moves his free hand to stroke his dick, bringing it closer to your entrance. âi missed you today, doll.â hyunjinâs fingers work on rubbing random patterns to your clit and you feel yourself getting even wetter than you were ten minutes ago.Â
âyou were supposed to come pick me up, idiot,â you lean forward close to his ear and press a small kiss to his neck. your hands hold onto his shoulders, your nails digging into the leather jacket that he was wearing before going back to grind against his dick.Â
âjust the tip, i swear,â he rests his head at the crook of your neck, his free hand now holding you close to him as you move faster against him. youâre breathing faster now and your fingers come to rub your clit, applying more friction. âbaby, let me ââ hyunjin swears, his hand shivering and you turn your head to the window â itâs drizzling. the sound of rain muffling out your moans and hyunjinâs swears as he manages to guide your hips toward him, his tip close to your pussy, before entering just a little. âthatâs it baby, fuck.âÂ
his hands rest at your lower back, his fingers slowly pulling up your shirt from the back as you ride against him. youâre mumbling something about having a real talk after this, but all hyunjin can hear is your whines and whimpers as he pulls himself out just to replace his dick with his fingers.Â
âyouâre coming on my tongue and my dick once we get to your room,â he grunts, feeling your walls clench around his fingers. ânot yet, darlinâ. hold it for me.â with his fingers now buried inside you, and your body grinding up against his palm, hyunjin meant what he said. teasing works both ways.
taglist: @hwajin @starlostseungmin @chrisbahng @niinjo @chvnnie @lixhues @joonszn @cherryhanji @blueberry-chan @dnadoublefelixx @ethereallino @stuckwithaphobiaa @chewryy @bangchanbabygirlx @zizis-world12 @aimeexx @whatudowhennooneseesyou @nightlychans @americanokisses @katieraven @comet-falls @hwan-g @svintsandghosts @idek-at-this-point-lol @es-kay-zee @writerracha @bbujiikseu @lethallyprotected @lino-jagiyaa
#stray kids smut#skz smut#skz hard hours#hwang hyunjin scenarios#hyunjin scenarios#hwang hyunjin smut#hyunjin smut#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x you#skz hyunjin smut#hyunjin smut drabbles#skz hwang hyunjin smut#skz hyunjin#kpop smut drabbles#kpop imagines#kpop smut#kpop scenarios
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Day One: Love at first sight
Yandere!Lyney x Reader
Yantober Masterlist (Prompt credit to @ozzgin)
It has always been cold in the mornings of the Court of Fontaine, the breeze blowing off of the waterâs surface that covered most of the Nation of Justice. The late summer had turned to early autumn and the world of green began to die and turn into a scene of shades of fiery oranges, vibrant reds, and bright yellows, all a sharp contrast to the bright blue surface of the nationâs sea. Lyney had never been a morning person, with most of his shows and other jobs being in the evening waking up so early had always been a bit of a pain unless he had a completely restless night prior to the morning light, which is what he was experiencing now.
The streets felt fairly empty, the only people being out being shop owners and their staff beginning to open up for the day and then there was Lyney who was sitting out on the stairs of the townhouse he and his family called home, for now anyway. The magician turned over his playing cards between his fingers as the first rays of sun began to hit his face, weaving the stiff paper between the flesh of his fingers as if pulling a needle through fabric, effortlessly. He watched the people walk on by, most paying the magician little to no mind and others sparing him small smiles and waves as they walked on by to continue about their day. So one would think that the person who caught the eye of the sleepy magician would be someone who looked interesting or at least looked his way, but no, it was just another person. She looked to be a reporter for the Steambird, a press badge around her neck, a camera case shoved into her overflowing purse, and ink stains and smudges on her fingertips, cheek, and her jacket which was clear she wore it quite often judging by the wear on the elbows.
Lyney only saw her for a mere moment as she was rushing off, most likely late for some meeting or interview, his eyes never moving from her until she disappeared around the corner. He would have followed her if he was more awake, but the way she made his heart flutter made him wish he did. His face felt flushed and his lips were ever so slightly agape as he stared at where she disappeared around the street corner. He was so incredibly starstruck that he did not even hear the front door of the house and the clicking of heels as someone walked down the stairs. He only snapped out of his dream-like state when he felt a cold hand come to rest on his shoulder. The young man glanced up over his shoulder to see the woman he called father looking down at him where he sat, her gaze seeming cold and unfeeling like it always did.
âI was watching you from the window.â The woman turned her head to both look at and gesture to the first floor window that sat just adjacent to the front door. Her then head glanced about to the empty street corner where Lyney had just been fixated upon. âWould I be correct in assuming that the young lady who had just passed caught your eye?â
âYes, father.â Lyney never withheld an answer from his father, like most children in the House of the Hearth. He pushed himself to stand up from where he sat, his hand reaching out to brace himself against the iron railing on the side of the stairs to pull himself up.
âI see⌠I suppose I understand the feeling.â Lyney cocked his head to the side as his father said such a thing, but his father did once tell him that the two of them were not as different as they seemed, especially when it came to mother. âI first met your mother in the streets in this city, I saw her once when I was around your age and found her again after I took my place as the head of the House of the Hearth.â
âDid you love her when you first saw her?â Lyney asked and he watched as the Knaveâs gaze trailed up to the second floor window of the house where one could see the outline of a woman sitting by the window during this early morning. She would forever be tucked away behind brick and bar, being made to dote on children she held no real affection for while she longed for the world outside that she was taken from. Lyney knew that he was destined to follow the footsteps of his father, become the next so-called father of the House of the Hearth, and every father needs a mother beside them.
âMore than anything.â
#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin#yandere genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin imagines#yandere lyney#yandere lyney x reader
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mob!bucky has a bone to pick
a/n: something short and sweet (yes it's stemming from that album) for the bucky girlies of which I am one. Deep in the trenches of 2am-3am I scroll on this site and try to gather fics like I'm a hunter gatherer. anyways this is just an idea, if you wanna see more send in something to the inbox!
this story is gonna feature things like: the mob, antiquated ideas of marriage, mentions of 'ownership', anti-feminist treatment of women. if that isn't your fancy you don't have to force it!
bucky barnes x fem!reader (exes to lovers)
He wasn't supposed to see you. You had tried your best to make sure of that. You were in baggy clothes, you hair was tied back and a hood covered the top of your head. The crowds of people did help to blend you in. Somewhat.
So here you are, trying to see what this asshole is up to. Not Bucky, no he's not the one you'd refer to like that. Idiot maybe. Stalker, if you were feeling mean. But not asshole.
No, that right is reserved for Brock. The piece of shit that had offered to marry you first when you father put out the offer. Offer. You can't believe this is your life.
You know who you father is. You've known since you were a little girl. The guards. The meetings. The constant sweeps for surveillance.
But you had told him that you wanted no parts in it. As soon as you were eighteen you took all the money you made during summer jobs and moved out. You went to a local college, got your degree, and got your first job all on your own.
Life had other plans apparently.
Apparently your dad's business was in need of a merger. Something about acquiring more men, more property, etc. And that's where Brock came in. He was willing to give up some of his earnings in order to trade up in his positions. No he wouldn't be a boss or even an underboss. A move like that is more complicated than a business deal.
He would be a husband. A husband in waiting. He wasn't willing to go about things the right way, so he has to be a rat about it. Marry you and hope that something happens to your dad. Or make it happen himself.
You happen to be one of two first born daughters in this business. And you weren't even in this business. Brock must have struck out with Monica.
There he is. Brock. He's sitting across from one of his associates in a luncheonette. That smug asshole has some sort of marriage contract with your name on it and is acting none the wiser.
You get up from the public bench and head into the luncheonette. You take a booth on the other side. The way you sit, Brock has his back to you but you see him clearly.
The waiter gives you a water and a few minutes with the menu. It's not like it mattered, really. You'll just order whatever tea they have and a side of whatever pie they have. You weren't here for the food.
Time seems to move slow. Brock and whoever he's talking to seem chummy. Joking about this and that. Probably not even talking business at all.
A plate is placed down in front of you. Then a mug. You start to thank the waiter when you realize you hadn't ordered yet. You look down at the pie. Apple. And you look over at the mug, the string hung over the side with the flavor label.
You take the label into your hands and turn it over.
Peppermint. Your favorites.
He slides into the booth all stealth and cool like. It ticks you off just a little bit. You take him in. His hair is less neat looking that usual. A black zip up jacket is what he's wearing which isn't part of his day-to-day.
"What's the plan, huh?" he asks.
You roll your eyes, "I don't know what you're-"
"Why are you following Rumlow?" he cuts you off.
"Why are you following me?" you assert right back.
He tilts his head to the side. As if to tease you or test you. You're not sure. But something on his face is smug. Like he thinks you should know why he's been following you.
You give up first.
"I'm gonna slip into the kitchen and put arsenic in his food." you answer.
Bucky cracks a smile at that. A sight, you're told, is very rare. You're not sure you believe that when you can count on both hands how many times he's smiled in your presence.
"How will you know it's his food?" he asks.
"I'll pay off the staff. You ask a lot of questions., you know that?"
"I'll like to know the details when I'm an accomplice to a crime."
Your eyebrow raises, "You're helping?"
"Brock's had it coming. I figure this is like karma or something." he answers.
Then he pushes the plate of pie close to you. You grab the rolled up napkin and slide out the fork. With the fork in your hand you stab a piece and bring it to your mouth.
"Anything in particular he did?" he asks.
You chew and shake your head.
"He made a deal to take my hand in marriage without my knowledge."
At your answer, Bucky goes rigid. Like he's seen a ghost. You put your fork down. And you take him in now. Fully. Past the all black attire of the night. There's dark circles under his eyes. His lip healing from a cut.
"Bucky?"
"Let me do it." he speaks.
You sit back in the booth. You couldn't let him do this for you. If you did you would be starting something in this business. You'd owe him too. Not that you think Bucky would ever use this against you.
You can't let him help you. If he helps you, you're in this for good. No way out.
But you have a feeling that Bucky's not really asking. You know him. That's what you get for secretly dating him when the both of you were teenagers. He'd go to war for you.
You can't let him do that. Not for you.
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ANDRE KRIEGMAN. HEADCANONS || ZERO DAY
andre kriegman as a boyfriend // a lil angst? // tw suggestive! // gn!reader // headcanons
andre kriegman, who believes itâs his job to take care of you. heâll insist on driving you home, paying for your food when youâre out together, shoving his jacket in your arms when itâs cold. itâs not open for discussionâitâs just how heâs been raised.
andre kriegman, who gets embarrassed as hell when his parents say nice things about you. his father will make a comment in german, and andre will turn red, mumbling, âitâs nothing.â when you ask him what mr kriegman meant.
andre kriegman, who doesnât handle arguments well. heâll raise his voice, maybe slam his palm on the table in frustration, but heâll never touch youâhis anger is loud but always directed at himself or the situation, not you.
andre kriegman, who is totally an ass guy, oogling you shamelessly every time youâre wearing tight jeans.
andre kriegman, who isnât big on initiating PDA but will kiss you on the cheek or hold your hand when he thinks no oneâs watching.
andre kriegman, who doesnât do flowers and sappy shit (except for valentineâs day or your anniversary) but will randomly bring you something practicalâa pack of your favourite gum, a soda you likeâbecause he remembers the things youâve mentioned.
andre kriegman, who is pragmatic and always prepared. every time you hang out, he has breath mints or gum in his pocket. just in case you decide to kiss him.
andre kriegman, who takes you on ârandomâ dates but secretly spends hours meticulously planning every detail, down to what route to drive so you guys can stay in the car for a bit longer.
andre kriegman, who drives with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh, his thumb absently rubbing circles. he doesnât even realise heâs doing itâitâs basically second nature by now.
andre kriegman, who always seems a little stiff when heâs shirtless, self-conscious of his bacne. but youâre quick to distract him by running your fingers through his hair or kissing along his happy trail, which he secretly loves even though heâd rather die than admit it.
andre kriegman, who gets jealous without realising it, his mood souring whenever mel the cat earns a kiss on the head that shouldâve been his.
andre kriegman, who tries to balance his time between you and cal. heavy emphasis on âtryâ.
andre kriegman, who secretly thinks that youâre too good for him.
andre kriegman, who lies on his back in bed, alone, arms outstretched, holding his video camera. his room is pitch black, the only source of light coming from the flickering screen, showing shaky, grainy footage of you holding a beer, laughing with friends and talking about something trivial.
andre kriegman, who rewinds the part where you notice him filming, the way your eyes flicker toward the camera like a character breaking the fourth wall before you walk closer. the camera shakes as your face comes into view, the grainy footage catches a brief flash of your smile before the screen blursâyou hand batting his away, forcing andre to drop his arm. the camera spins wildly, the view distorting, and for a split second, everything is a chaotic blur.
andre kriegman, who watches in silence as the camera focuses on the kitchen floor, the lens catching nothing but the tiled surface. muffled catcalls and laughter echo from the background as you press your lips against his cheek.
andre kriegman, who has brief moments of doubt while watching these videos. his finger hovering between the âreplayâ and âdeleteâ option, wondering if heâs making a mistake.
andre kriegman, who still videotapes you, but thereâs something different in the way he frames the shots now.
andre kriegman, who starts zoning out more often. youâll be talking about something random, and his eyes will glaze over, staring a hundred yards past you.
andre kriegman, who doesnât mention your name once in the last tape he and cal film. he keeps his expression neutral, his tone matter-of-fact. because he refuses to drag you into the media shitstorm he knows will follow⌠the one scrap of kindness he can afford to give you.
andre kriegman, who drove by your house the night before zero day. he didnât come in or anything, just looked up at your bedroom window from his car in silence.
andre kriegman, who doesnât believe in happy endings but still hopes you get one, even if he knows he wonât be a part of it.
um not sure how i feel about this one.. sorry
#creds to vi for helping me with the 21st one#zero day andre#andre kriegman hc#zero day#andre kriegman#zero day headcanons#zero day 2003#zero day movie#cal gabriel
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Huh, I expected to get my drawing of Teen ZoĂŠ done for the redesigns first. Oh well... Only Kwami-swaps of the Lifeswap AU!
Meet Amaranth and Cerastes!
For no reason at all I decided to give Swap-ZoĂŠ long hair and Swap-ChloĂŠ shorter hair. Which is the exact opposite of my normal redesigns for them.
AndrĂŠ won the custody battle for ZoĂŠ, and put his best foot forward into raising her and ChloĂŠ. ZoĂŠ is similar to how she is in cannon, late season 5. But she still learned how to mirror people, convincing them to lower their guard around her. She is a politicians daughter after all, and having people on your side is most important when convincing people to follow you. ZoĂŠ ultimately wants to do good for Paris, and is good friends with Ivan and the other members of Kitty section due to their activist mindsets.
ZoĂŠ's biggest fear is the secret of her being not AndrĂŠ's biological daughter coming to light. He told her when she was 13 because he worried her biological father might try and regain custody in order to extort AndrĂŠ for money. He made it clear in no uncertain terms that she is ZoĂŠ Bourgeois, the youngest of the family, ChloĂŠ's sister, and his daughter.
While she is happy AndrĂŠ won't give her up for anything, she finds a new resentment for Audrey. And lives in fear this will harm her father's reputation, change how her relationship with her sister works, and effect how her friends see her, should it ever come to light.
ChloĂŠ's know for years that ZoĂŠ was the result of Audrey's cheating, she knew that one of the contentions during the divorce was that Audrey was barely in Paris the entire first 2 years of ChloĂŠ's life. The math didn't math, so she pieced together the truth. This only added fuel to her burning hatred for Audrey, ZoĂŠ is her little sister.
As Amaranth, ZoĂŠ makes her voice Heard! There is no stopping her once she's set her mind to it. I based her outfit on a womens power suit, and those asymmetrically colored biker jackets.
Juleka meanwhile, grew up with Anarka. She remembered her brother from when they were little, and is a tad horrified at who he's grown up to be. With Luka gone, Juleka lost her spark and her voice. She almost never talks, and doesn't stand up for anything. She just goes through the motions most days. Anarka tried to bring that light back to her daughters eyes, but every step forward has two steps back taken by Juleka's bullies. Being a quiet kid, who's mom can't keep a job, wears hand me downs, and whose dad ran off didn't leave much to be desired when it came to options of being harrassed.
Finally Anarka broke and asked Jagged to let the twins reunite. She hoped this might be a chance for Juleka to find herself again. And while Luka had changed too much from her caring and strong twin, she did find ZoĂŠ, Marinette, Adrien, and the members of Kitty Section.
Do you remember Juleka helping ZoĂŠ dye her hair in Sole Crusher? Well this time it happens in reverse. After getting comfortable with the group, she approaches ZoĂŠ about getting her hair colored. Naturally, ZoĂŠ's gotta help her girly out.
After Luka is deemed no longer suitable to be a miraculous holder, Ladybug and Chat Noir decide to give Juleka a chance. Cerastes isn't flashy, or confident. She's stealthy, sharp, and attentive.
Juleka's spent years just adapting to new situations and learning to read people for the sake of surviving, and it comes in handy when it comes to figuring out Akuma's.
Unshockingly, Luka isn't happy to see his miraculous used by someone else, though it does take a while to get there since Cerastes doesn't even get properly seen for ages. She's very good at disappearing.
Anarka is so relieved that Juleka finally found her people, that she's even willing to stay in Paris to keep her close to her friends. She still struggles to keep a normal job, but anything to see her little girl smile again.
#Lifeswap Au#miraculous ladybug#miraculous fanart#tiger miraculous#zoĂŠ lee#kwami swap#juleka couffaine
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driver!jake x rich girl!reader
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i...am 99.9% sure @melodygatesauthor has probably written this (or something similar lol) but i am happy to put my spin on it as well đ
---
You're wearing that skirt again.
The one he's sure you know drives him crazy, the one that's so short it barely covers anything, the edges fluttering slightly as you walk, granting him glimpses of the tantalizing treasure beneath.
He tries not to stare, really he does, knows it's not the most professional thing to do (especially as an employee of your father's) but...it's just so hard (in more ways than one).
You certainly don't make his job as your driver easy. Dancing and drinking into the early hours of the morning with your friends (all of whom have tried to pick him up at least once), drunkenly piling into his limo in your designer dresses and heels, giggling and screaming as he quietly drives you back to your penthouse (where the party will likely continue). If he wasn't paid so much, he might be more annoyed at the state of his backseat after he's dropped you off--more than once, he's had to have his (normally) pristine limo professionally cleaned after one of your overserved friends has puked all over his leather seats.
Yes. You're definitely lucky he's paid so well.
Tonight had started as it usually did, with you and your friends asking to be dropped of at some club downtown. It's 1 a.m., and Jake knows he still has a few hours before the club closes for the night. Deciding to stretch his legs, he exits the vehicle, shucking his jacket and tossing it in the driver's seat. He closes the door with his hip, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows.
Briefly, he considers taking a walk but this part of town is a tad sketchy and he's not too comfortable leaving his car unattended here in the street. Instead, he opts to lean against the side, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. He lights it, groaning softly as he takes a pull, the smoke filling his lungs as he inhales deeply. Jake closes his eyes to savor the pleasant buzz in his head from the nicotine, tipping his head back a little and exhaling slowly. He opens his eyes just as the last tendrils of smoke are blown away by the warm, night breeze, and sees you.
There you are, standing alone on the sidewalk in front of him, designer coat folded over your arm, soft smile on your lips. Jake starts, immediately throwing the cigarette down and stomping it out, his back going rigid as he stands to attention.
"Oh, ah--Ready to go, Miss?"
Your lips twitch, eyes dragging slowly down the length of him before you say, "Yes. Take me home, Mr. Lockley."
Jake nods, briefly wondering where the rest of your group is as he pulls open the door to the back of the limo for you. When you don't get in immediately, he looks back, questioning.
With a twinkle in your eyes that he hadn't noticed before, you tell him, "I'd rather sit up front this time, actually."
He nods slowly, wondering what game you're playing with him now. "Of course, whatever you'd like."
Jake closes the back door and turns, pulling open the passenger door for you instead. You make eye contact with him as you brush past, the delicious scent of you invading his senses.
Yeah. He's in big trouble.
Absently, he wets his lips, closing the door once you're inside. He takes his time making his way back around to the driver's side, trying to compose himself for the ride back to your penthouse.
You've always been a hard one for him to read. You've teased him before, sure, but...he'd always figured you were just having fun, that you were just toying with the hired help--that's just what spoiled, little rich girls did, right?
He tosses his jacket into the back and gets in, closing the door and pulling his seat belt on. The engine purrs to life when he turns the key in the ignition, the sound calming his nerves a little. He puts the car into gear, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. You're looking out the window, head turned mostly away from him, body angled so you can rest your elbow against the door. He takes a moment to admire your profile, the soft line of your neck, the way the material of your skirt pulls against your thighs. Then, he clears his throat.
"Seat belt."
You look over at him, teasing smile returning to your painted lips as you look at him from beneath your lashes. For a moment, he thinks you're going to talk back, to argue, to tell him you can do whatever you want, but instead, you wordlessly buckle yourself in, eyes never leaving his. He nods, swallowing thickly as he returns his attention ahead.
Your penthouse isn't far from the club you'd been at, and it normally doesn't take long for him to make it back there after your nights out on the town, but he remembers too late that you left earlier than usual this evening and hits a little more traffic than he'd like. You've been quiet the entire drive, simply staring out the window, shifting in your seat every now and then. He can't be sure, but he feels like you might be doing it on purpose, to draw his attention to the fact that your skirt has ridden up so high on your delectable thighs that he can see a flash of the white lace panties beneath them. Jake fights the urge to groan, instead keeping his attention on the road a head of him.
He's relieved when he spots the familiar building that houses your penthouse, internally breathing a sigh of relief as he smoothly halts at the entrance. The doorman rushes out to open the door for you, but you wave him off, instead turning back toward Jake, that gleam still in your eyes.
"Would you mind walking me upstairs, Mr. Lockley?" you ask, your voice soft and far more innocent than the look in your eyes. "I'm not used to being up there all alone."
Jake pauses, considering the repercussions. If he says no, will you complain about him to your father? He could lose his job. But if he says yes, and you do what he thinks you're going to do, he'll lose it anyway, won't he? (that, or your father will kill him)
So either way he's screwed, it seems. Least he can do is have a little fun first.
Jake nods, wetting his lips again as he steers the car toward the garage beside your building. He parks in the spot marked for the penthouse (a spot that's conveniently located right beside the elevator), and helps you out of the vehicle. The edge of your skirt has risen up so high, he can see the curve of your ass cheeks peeking from beneath it as you walk ahead of him to the elevator. He stifles another groan, trying his best to remain professional just in case he's misreading this situation.
The ride up in the elevator is excruciating. All he can think about is pinning you up against the side and shoving his face between your legs. He wonders how you taste (he imagines something rich and sweet, like champagne), how you'd sound, how you'd look just as you're about to come.
The elevator chimes, startling him from his thoughts, the doors opening into the foyer of the penthouse. It's lavish, elegant, but also somehow understated. Perhaps a little like you, he thinks.
Inside he breaths a sigh of relief, thinking his task is done, that he's free to return to his car and go home for the evening...but as you step off onto the white marble floor, you turn slightly, waving him inside.
"Come in, have a drink with me."
Jake hesitates, and you must see it because you chuckle and say, "It's the least I can do for making you walk me all the way up here."
He smiles, nodding his thanks as he makes a waving gesture with his hands. "Please, Miss, there's no need. I'm just doing my job."
Disappointment clouds your eyes at his words and you look away with a quiet sigh, one he only catches because he's watching you so closely. Suddenly you look so....lonely. Standing there in this grand penthouse, all alone. He shouldn't feel bad for you, you have everything you could ever want, everything he doesn't, but...he can't seem to help himself.
Knowing he'll likely end up regretting it, he steps inside, his shoes squeaking slightly on the floor. Your head swivels back toward him at the sound, a light in your eyes when she realizes you've decided to stay. The sight makes something warm unfurl in his chest.
Half an hour later, you're both sitting in your living room (on the most uncomfortable couch he's ever had the misfortune of sitting on), glasses in hand and a bottle of Macallan whisky between you. Your ridiculous heels lay discarded on the floor, delectable legs curled up beneath you as you both laugh about something one of you had said.
Jake's always prided himself on being able to hold his alcohol but, honestly? He's pretty certain that, if he's not drunk now, he is well on his way. He can't stop staring at you, at the way your smile lights up your whole face, the way your eyes sparkle when you say something cheeky...the way your skirt is still riding up your thighs.
He takes another sip from his glass (which he should really stop doing if he's planning on driving himself home later), the liquid burning down his throat. Jake licks his lips, eyes glued to your thighs, wondering idly how soft your skin is, how you'd react if he pushed his calloused hand beneath the hem of your skirt, his fingers dancing along the edge of your panties--
"Jake?"
His eyes shoot back to yours, heat flaring in his cheeks at being caught. You're close (when had you gotten so close?), so close he can smell you, can feel the heat of you through your clothes.
He hums in response, not trusting that his mouth is capable of coherent speech at the moment. You smile, putting your arm against the back of the couch, the length of your body pressed along the side of his as you lean in to whisper in his ear.
"I want you."
Jake groans softly at your words, unable to contain himself any longer. He feels you smile against the side of his neck, your lips dragging along the skin there. You press a feather-light kiss just below the hinge of his jaw and he leans back a little, giving you more space. You hum, nipping at another spot and soothing it with your tongue. Your fingers find their way into his hair, plunging into his soft curls, and gently angling his head where you want it.
You kiss him and he groans again, eyes fluttering shut as your lips move tentatively against his. His hand cups your cheek and you sigh, the action making something tighten in his chest. Soon you're straddling his lap, skirt ridden up so far you might as well not be wearing it (which would be just fine with Jake). His hands are everywhere--cupping your face, slipping beneath your top, clutching your ass, pushing up your thighs toward the hem of your skirt--
You break the kiss with a gasp as his fingertips skim over the delicate lace covering your pussy, your thighs quaking on either side of him.
"Please," you whine breathlessly, mouth falling open as you chase his touch.
Obligingly, Jake slips a finger inside, groaning softly at how warm and wet you are. He swirls his fingertip around your clit, gently teasing it, and dragging the most delicious sounds from between your lips. He watches transfixed as you writhe in his lap, eyes heavy-lidded, mouth parted. You moan as he slips his fingers further south, briefly teasing your entrance before dipping inside. Your fingers clench in his shirt as you move against his hand, his name spilling from your mouth like a prayer.
"That's it, bebita," he breathes, his chest heaving a little as he watches you. "Take what you need."
You moan again as he circles your clit, leaning forward to press your forehead against his, breath fanning against his lips. You whine his name again and he groans, the sound going straight to his cock. When you come, he swears it's the most beautiful sight he's ever seen, your breath hitching, mouth slack, eyes closed in ecstasy, body shaking as your orgasm rocks through you.
Jake brings his fingers to his lips as you try to catch your breath, moaning as the rich taste of you explodes on his tongue. He wants more, wants to devour you, to make you come over and over and over again on his tongue until he's swallowed every last ounce of your essence.
He wonders if you'd let him.
You kiss him then, slow and sensual, humming a little as you lick into his mouth. He groans when your hand slips inside his trousers, taking him in your hand.
"Need you, Jake," you pant, lightly rubbing your thumb over his tip.
He throws his head back against the edge of the couch, cursing under his breath in Spanish. He hears you chuckle, your delicate hands working him from his pants.
He clutches at your hips as you sink down onto him, that silly little skirt bunched up around your waist. His fingers dig into your soft flesh as you ride him, your hands fisting in his thick hair as you pull his mouth back to yours. You're squeezing him, your cunt fluttering around his length as he fucks up into you, searching for the spot he knows will fling you over the edge. You break the kiss with a gasped moan when he finds it, whimpering and whining into his ear as he hits it again and again ("Oh fu--right there, Jake. Yeah, just like that. Oh God. Oh fuck---"). You gush around him when you come, soaking and squeezing his cock. He follows you over the edge, spilling himself inside you with a broken groan.
He ends up staying the night (and if he makes you come a few more times before the sun rises, well, who's to say?).
**apologies for any mistakes, this was absolutely not proofread lol**
If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. đ
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PART 2
#em tag#my fic#(i guess?? lol)#i know you're busy rn em but please feel free to add to this if you want#ik i went a little nuts lmao#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley x you#jake lockley smut#moon knight fanfic
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Rude - Oct 16 - @rosekillermicrofic - 703 words - Warnings: none
Evan enjoyed his job. A lot of people would find it off-putting or upsetting, but Evan liked working at the mortuary. He started at the front desk, where he was only permitted to greet clients and take calls. But as he continued to work there, he apprenticed under the mortician and learned all kinds of things that he never thought he would enjoy doing, but he did. The only part he didnât like about the job was the amount of living people he had to deal with on a daily basis.
He was suppose to be meeting with a man for an arrangement conference for his deceased father. The man was already twenty minutes late for their meeting, and Evan was quickly losing his patience. He much preferred the parts of the job that kept him confined to the back with the bodies, either cleaning them up or performing a cremation. He resolved to give the man ten more minutes before giving up on him ever arriving.
Of course, nine minutes after he had made that resolution, the man strode through the door. He was wearing black jeans with rips through the knees, paired with a long t-shirt featuring some punk band, and a distressed leather jacket. His dark hair looked like he had rolled right out of bed, after a long, long night. Worst of all, the smirk on his face was a mile-wide.
Evan disliked him on sight.
âHelloooo,â the man drawled, sauntering up to the front desk to plop into one of the chairs in front of it. âAre you the Mr. Rosier Iâm supposed to meeting with?â
Evan glared at him. âThe meeting started 29 minutes ago.â
That only made the manâs grin widen. âMy bad. I was celebrating the good news last night.â
Evan arched a brow in response, not entirely interested in whatever that meant, but the man took it as an opportunity to embellish.
âThe good news being that dear old dad has finally kicked the bucket, of course,â the man explained. âIâm Barty.â
âI know that,â Evan said, tone clipped. He gestured to the file in front of him. âIt was your fatherâs name too.â
The man, Barty, wrinkled his nose in distaste. âAh, my father. He always wanted to make me exactly in his image. Too bad it didnât work out for him.â
That much was clear. Evan had seen a brief glimpse of the body when it came in. Barty Crouch Sr. was a thin, middle-aged man with a mustache, and heâd been wearing a full suit when he died. His son wore jeans with tears in them, and Evan had noticed an earring on one ear. Evan couldnât imagine they would have gotten along well, if his father wanted his son to turn out like him.
âWhy donât we get started talking about the arrangements for your father?â Evan asked politely. He was ignoring the way he could feel Bartyâs eyes roaming over his body.
âUgh, boring. Why donât we talk about you, handsome?â Barty clicked his tongue, and Evan looked up to find him smiling winningly. âCâmon, I didnât expect the funeral director to be so goddamn gorgeous.â
Evan fought against a flush. He would not let Barty know he was getting under Evanâs skin. âIâm a professional. What kind of funeral service were you thinking? We offer burial and cremation.â
âBurn him, for all I care.â Barty waved a careless hand, and despite himself, Evan fought back an amused smile. The man was beyond rude, sure, but he was quite funny, actually.
âCremation, then,â Evan said, making a note in his file. âWe can take a look at urns and other container options later. What sort of personalizationââ
âWhat are you doing after this?â Barty interrupted. He was still smiling that slightly-manic grin.
Evan stared at him for a moment. âNothing.â
âWhat time do you get off, handsome?â Barty fluttered his eyelashes dramatically.
âMy shift ends at 5, but I hope Iâm getting off with you,â Evan shot back. Bartyâs eyes widened in shock briefly, before his grin widened into a feral smile, showing every tooth.
âOh, I like you,â Barty said. âWeâre going to get along, you and I.â
#evan x barty#barty crouch jr#evan rosier#rosekiller#marauders#barty crouch x evan rosier#rosekiller microfic#microfic#microfic prompt#maurauders microfic
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TWST (Mafia!AU + Bodyguard!AU)
If you realize the characters have no relatability to each other (other than the twins), you are correct. Because I just used a "spin the wheel" to pick characters to write lollllll.
Since I am trying to get back into writing, requests are OPEN. No limit. Pls fill it with what you like, no promises I will write everything though :D
I also wanted to write something more dark...pls read tags just in case!
TW: !yandere content, possessive behavior, mentions of slight blood, dark underlying themes, reader is a jewelry heiress, not be'tad
Mafia!AU Floyd Leech
Mafia!Floyd Is a little too good at his job. Frankly, his boss gets quite frustrated with the amount of bodies brought home. It says dead or alive doesnât it? Why should it matter what happens to these small frys.Â
So when he sees your pretty face on the next hit, he licks his lips in delight. What a treat. Though, the boss did say to keep this one fresh. Little blood is not bad, too much, and it causes some problems.Â
So when Floyd sees you on a park bench across the street. YouâreâŚnormal compared to the others. They are greasy, bastards flaunting around their beer bellies with women cradled in their arms compared to the pen in your hand tapping against white paper.Â
Floyd wants to see where this will go. His boss said to handle you with âcareâ. The moment you see him, you freeze almost like a fish out of water, or maybe like those small shrimps he sees in the fish tank run for cover as a predator approaches. Nothing like those pompous asses who wanted all fight, no talk.
You are so much fun! As Floyd smiles, holding out an eraser.Â
âYou dropped this little shrimpy.â
Mafia!AU Idia Shroud
Mafia!Idia never, ever, ever works in front of the house! No! Never! He rather stayed in the operating room filled with the comfort of blue light from his multiple monitors. Never missing an angle, never missing a moment, eyes glued onto the screen, because that is what he is good at.
Not when he has to escort you into their headquarters. Also, why the hell are you here? You are just the rich, tiny, heiress of a multi billion xx company; couldnât you be placed with someone more- energetic (not chronically online person who never sees the sun).Â
How the hell is he supposed to start a conversation with you? Boss said to be an excellent hostâwhy is he the one hosting the hostage!? You walk with more poise than him, your heels clicking on the floor as he shuffles.Â
You are pretty though⌠Small lips, big doe eyes with furrowed eyebrows taking in your surroundings. Even your bare shoulders, exposed thin collar bone with dazzling gems draped across your neck, are shivering whether because of the cold?
Be a good hostâŚbe a decent host, Idia repeats in his head. The next thing he knows he is throwing his long jacket at your head where you make a noise similar to an âumpâ.Â
âW-w-wear that till we m-meet the boss! Hostages canât get s-sâsick.â
Bodyguard!AU Jade Leech
Bodyguard!Jade where his smile leaves goosebumps on your skin. It's the way his eyes glimmer, his teeth a bit too sharp to be normal, the way his body lurks over you like a second shadow waiting to swallow you whole.Â
ButâŚhe is good at his jobâ ridiculously good for a man your father found off the street on a whim. The way he is diligent in his motions, gently offering his hand as you exit the limo his gaze piercing through every paparazzi, a gloved hand guides you by the small of your back through the entrance.
Your bodyguard Jade who lowers himself to the ground before you to place designer heels on your feet. It would be a lovely gesture if it werenât for the small red marks underneath the soleâŚ
Jade is good at his job. He keeps you protected, prudent of your lifestyle and satisfied; but, there is this feeling where you feel almostâŚsmothered? Noâsubmerged by his attentiveness as if you are barely keeping your head above water before a predator pulls you down.
He is right in front of your face as you wake up from your daze. His off set eyes shine in amusement as he offers his gloved hand which you take in habit. It feels damp.
âItâs almost time for your debut. Shall we?â
Bodyguard!AU Silver
Bodyguard!Silver makes you realize you are more of a bodyguard than him. At least you can stay awake. When you find him huddled against a corner of your workplace for the nth time in the last week, you break down and buy a blanket. His porcelain face makes no change as you carefully drape the plush wool over his back. Long eyelashes and smooth snow hair cradles his features.Â
You're about to brush a stray hair from his cheek but before even a finger graces him, your back hits the concrete floor. Wrists tightly pinned over your head. Your heart is beating in your chest, maybe from the surprise, maybe from the way silver eyes pierce into yours as he asses you with sleep in his eyes. Itâs over in an instance as your bodyguard's face filled with shock and embarrassment as he releases you, apologies spilling out of his mouth.Â
You rub your wrists. Usually that will be an immediate fire for you. Hurting clients, sleeping on the job; but, Silver is unusually fast. Faster than any of the previous bodyguards your father had hired for you. And his eyesâŚiridescent opal, it is as beautiful as the jewels you collect.Â
Your hand to cradle his face, there would be some bruises forming across your wrists but nothing a pair oIn a soft voice y lace gloves could fix. You tell him it's alright, accidents happen, that one miniscule mistake isnât enough for you to eget rid of him. He breaths out, anxiety still shakesungs as he gulps, nodding his head pure opals staring right at you,
âIâm sorry, it will never happen again my ladyâÂ
#.wwrenwrites#twisted wonderland#twst headcanons#twst x reader#yandere#floyd x reader#twst floyd#twst idia#idia x reader#twst jade#jade x reader#twst silver#silver x reader#not usually what I write#I write re2 content if I actually beat the game but I am a wimp
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âcravingâ - part 3 of PICK YOUR POISON - (a dads best friends love story)
part 1 and 2
pairing- (Daryl x fem!reader)
warnings- 18+ content, oral (r!giving), reader being a sneaky lil slut⌠(drunk off sangria while posting so might not be proofread hehe) 2.6k wc
âCute skirt,â you feel Shaneâs hand graze your lower back as he squeezes between you and the countertop. Making his way to the fridge for another beer. âYou uh, wear that just for us?â
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile while peeling what feels like the hundredth carrot of the afternoon.
He glances up, checking to make sure that your father is still deep in conversation with Rick, way over in the living room. And with a brand new, cold beer in his hand, he presses himself behind you, trapping you against the counter. His free hand coming up and brushing your hair out of the way, to leave a sweet kiss on your neck. You canât help but smile, loving the way his lips feel on your skin. But you gasp when his hand comes down and squeezes your ass, under your skirt. Silently scolding him with your eyes, and stepping away from him. Youâd already had a close call with Shane already. You didnât need to be testing the waters any further.
He only chuckles and makes his way back to the living room, joining in on the conversation between Rick and your father. Something about the job that Deanna has put your dad in charge of. The construction team was doing another expansion, building more and more houses to fit all the newcomers.
Adding all the carrots to a bowl, you look up and notice Daryl making his way to the porch, slipping on his faded, leather jacket. A lighter and a pack of cigarettes in hand. Sweet. Just what you need.
Heâs leaned up against the side of the house when you finally get to him. Your bare feet in the cool grass, having only pulled on a cardigan to stay warm in the chilly fall air. He smiles when he sees you, a cheeky, no good, expression splayed on his handsome face.
âThink I could borrow one?â You ask, standing right in front of him, already reaching for the pack in his jacket pocket, before he mumbles a knowing, âMhm.â
âLight?â You ask, cigarette held to your lips, waiting for him to light it. And he does. Bringing his hand up to block the wind, other one sparking the flame. You take a drag in and lean in as close as you can, letting the smoke tumble out of your soft lips, practically grazing his own. Mindlessly, his hand makes its way to your waist as you lean further into him. One hand on his chest, and the other holding the smoke.
âYou can just never behave, can you?â He asks, already knowing what the answer will be.
âNope.â You smile, tipping your head up and closing the gap between you, pressing your lips against his, hand coming up to the back of his neck to pull him in deeper. The smokes are quickly thrown to the concrete and forgotten. Pulling you against him and tangling his own hands in your hair. Tongues dancing over eachother, him tasting of beer and tobacco. You, of mint and lipgloss. The smell of him, that familiar concoction of smoke and leather, itâs intoxicating. Breathing heavy as you pull at his belt, getting ready to kneel for him, right there in your parents backyard.
âWait-â his rough hand grabs your own, halting you from taking things any further. Heâs breathing heavy too.
âWe canât.â
Immediately you groan. Annoyed and defeated.
Fucking hell. All of them. âwe canâtâ, âwe shouldnâtâ, âthis is wrongâ. Itâs all youâd heard from the men for weeks. And while Rick and Shane were a little easier to seduce, breaking down enough to take care of you at least, Daryl had stayed relatively strong. The furthest youâd gotten was a rather heavy make out session in the truck. And heâd halted your hips the second you tried grinding down on him. Searching for any friction between the denim of his jeans and the lace of your panties that you craved so desperately, but he wouldnât budge.
And now, when all you wanna do is wrap your pretty, glittery lips around his cock, he remains just a strong.
âDaryl, come on,â you whine, stealing another open mouthed kiss. Seemingly the only thing he didnât feel the need to object. âDonât you want me?â
ââCourse- fuck- of course I do.â He tugs you by the hair, facing his deep blue eyes. âI do.â
âThen why wonât you fuck me already?â
âWe agreed-â
âScrew the agreement. Take me upstairs. Please. After supper, when my dad falls asleep on the couch. Take me upstairs and fuck me so hard I forget my own name.â
He blinks slowly. Keeping his eyes shut for a second to compose himself. Thinking about all the things heâd love to do to you if he did decide to follow you up to your bedroom. White walls and pink sheets. Soft and sweet, just like you.
His tone is firm when he finally speaks.
âWeâve been over this, sweetheart. Not happening.â
Bummer.
You take the rejection with an understanding nod. Being sure to slowly rake your hands down his abdomen, under his jacket, and give him one last peck. Quickly running your thumb over his lips, wiping the evidence of your watermelon lipgloss off his mouth. You give him a coy smile over your shoulder when heading back inside.
Unaware of the way that Daryl wanted to physically kick himself for saying no. Fists clenched by his sides with his eyes closed. Regretting not just taking the opportunity. Regretting not just letting you undo that damn belt and have your way with him, right outside in the backyard of your parents house. Knowing youâd show up for dinner with bruised knees and damp panties. Waiting in anticipation for whatever he might do to you after supper when heâd have you all alone in your bedroom.
Such a damn shame.
Your mother decided to eat on the deck with your aunt and her husband. With their annoying ass kids too. Sheâd invited you to sit with them, but the open seat next to Rick was way too tempting.
Shane is the weakest, by far. If you were measuring their strength by how likely they were to fuck you, that is. He hadnât yet, but youâd like to believe that youâre making progress. Rick wants to. You know that. He wants you so bad it actually hurts. And fuck, if he hadnât felt tempted the other week, upstairs in your bedroom, with his face between your thighs, giving you your second (and most intense) orgasm of the day. The way you begged him to fuck you right then and there had his mind spinning and his dick swelling. But unfortunately, his moral dilemma was saved by the sound of your father calling you downstairs, to introduce you to some new neighbours. And Rick couldnât help but sigh in relief at the realization that he didnât have to actually say ânoâ.
And as always, heâs attempted to claim you as his own. His hand wonât leave your thigh from under the table, as you pick at the turkey and potatoâs on your plate. Glancing at him with an innocent smile every now and then. Tingles erupting as he moves his thumb in circles against your skin, all while listening intently to your father go on about all the work around Alexandria that needs to be done before snowfall. Darylâs sat next to Rick. Replaying the conversation with you from outside, over and over in his head as he shovels the mashed potatoâs into his mouth. Thinking about how badly he wanted to give in. To tangle his hands in your hair and guide those rosy lips right on to his dick, fucking your throat and then cumming all over your pretty face. And then Shane, next to your dad, who canât stop playing footsies with you from under the table. Giving you that fucking smirk that you just wanna kiss right off his face. As if his smile belonged against your lips, and nowhere else.
âSweetheart, I think me and the boys could use another round. You mind going to the garage and grabbing us some more beers?â Your father gets up, his voice snapping you out of your sinful daydreams.
âUh- sure.â You smile politely, standing up from the table, and pulling your skirt down in a failed attempt at being modest. You hesitate, heart beating fast while watching your father go up for a second plate of food and then head outside to the deck. Probably just checking in on your mother. Making sure that her and the others were all doing ok and didnât need another drink themselves.
You donât even really register what youâre doing until youâre under the table. Moving fast in order to effectively use the moment that your father is finally occupied. Confusion quickly setting on each manâs face until youâre settled between Darylâs knees. On the floor, completely hidden by the tablecloth. Hands going straight to Darylâs belt, unclasping it and grabbing the impressively large stiffy heâd been hiding under the table all night.
âFuck.â You heard him gasp from above. Shane letting out a surprised huff of amusement and Rick whispering something inaudible.
You slip your hand into his boxers and pull him out, licking your lips and then placing a sweet kiss on his tip.
âOh shit, sheâs- fuck.â Darylâs thighs are tensed as he starts to wrap his mind around whatâs actually happening. Around the fact that youâre on your knees in front of him. Glossy lips wrapped around his cock, while your dads right outside, and his best friends are right there.
You take him into your mouth, slowly bobbing up and down, paying close attention to his reactions. To what makes him drop his fork on the table and grunt. Gasping and straining to keep in the sounds you so desperately want to hear come from his throat.
You keep going even when you hear the sliding door to the deck open. Your father returning to the table and continuing his conversation from before. Not that you had been listening. Far too busy thinking about what each man would taste like if they had the decency to put you on your knees, like youâve asked them to over and over.
âYou hear about that run that Deana was planning? She said sheâd talk to you about it but I didnât know if she ever got around toâŚâ
Your father kept talking. Blissfully unaware of the absolutely filthy performance taking place beneath the tablecloth. How on earth Daryl was keeping it together, you had no idea. Holding yourself up with your hands gripping at his thighs, muscles flexed in what you assume is pleasure. But itâs likely that his nerves are playing a roll as well.
Rick makes sure to keep your fathers attention. Asking questions and chatting along. The perfect distraction as you continue the borderline torture on Darylâs cock. And though you canât see it, heâs trying his very best to keep it together. Slow blinks, glancing down at his plate of food. Fingers gripping his utensils so hard they could snap. Doing everything in his control to keep breathing like a normal person. To not tip his head back and moan out your name. And Rick and Shane are doing a surprisingly wonderful job at being your accomplices, distracting your father with simple, mundane conversation. Enough to take any focus off the fact that Daryl was a minute away from cumming down your throat. Torn between wanting to last longer and wanting to hurry up so that he didnât have to hide his reactions any longer.
You assume heâs getting close. His knees becoming all shifty, involuntarily twitching from how good your mouth feels. So warm and wet and taking him all the way down. You feel a hand lace into your hair, though a little confused because youâre pretty sure it isnât Darylâs. Coming from beside him, having reached over so nonchalantly, Rick pushes your head down. Clearing his throat at the same time that you inevitably gag on Darylâs dick. Hiding the noise. And at that, Daryl just about lost it. Every nerve in his body is on fire and you want to taste him so fucking bad. Want to drink down every last drop of whatever he gives you. You reach your own hand down inbetween your legs and press the pads of your fingers to the cotton panties covering your clit. Rubbing little circles to ease your own needs. Dipping lower and realizing that thereâs a wet spot from your arousal. Because sucking Daryl off was turning you on. And if he knew that, he wouldnât have lasted another second.
âThought your girl was grabbing us another beer?â Shane asks finally bringing attention to the fact that you arenât sitting at the table. At least not to your dads knowledge.
âYeah, I thought so. Iâll run to the garage. See if she got distracted with the bar. Gal sure loves her cocktails, Iâll tell you that much.â
Does she ever.
You hear your father walk down the hall, towards the garage. At the same time, Daryl letâs out the breath heâs holding and his hips buck up involuntarily. So fucking close you can tell.
âYou got thirty seconds, baby.â Rick warns you. Well, both you and Daryl. That you need to make him come now. Otherwise, daddyâs gonna find out your dirty little secret. And wouldnât that be such a shame. The fun partâs only just started.
Daryl moans. Louder than you expected but immediately after, you feel him tense up and your mouth fills with his salty fluid. You swallow around him. No hesitation whatsoever. Itâs not like you could leave any evidence. And without even helping him get his pants done back up, you crawl past Ricks legs, making sure to use his thigh as a support beam to get back up and slink into your seat. Taking a napkin from the table and wiping your mouth. Giving your best doe eyes to the three men. All of them sporting equally impressed expressions. Not even a hint of jealousy present from Rick, which you found a little odd. Maybe your little show turned them all on. Not just Daryl. And when you look over at the bowman, his face is red. Crimson blush covering his cheeks as he buckles up and straightens himself out. Rick and Shane lightly shaking their heads in disbelief with the sexiest smiles forming on their faces.
âYou are somethinâ else, princess. My god.â Shane laughs, kicking your foot under the table. And you can only smile back before you hear the door open and your father come waltzing back into the dining area.
âWhere the hell were you? Yâforgot about our beer.â You father says, handing one to each man at the table.
âSorry - uh- I had to use the washroom. Got distracted.â You smile politely, taking a sip of your own drink as you feel the heat rise to your own cheeks.
âCourse you did. Can you grab the pie, pumpkin? Think everyoneâs about done eating.â
You nod and get up, sauntering towards the fridge, grabbing the pie along with a can of whipped cream. You make sure to look directly at Rick and Daryl while you shake the can and line your index finger with the sugary fluff. Maintaining eye contact as you lick it up and suck the cream off your finger. Rick rolls his eyes, unable to hide the smirk forming on his face. And Daryl shoots you a warning glare from across the table.
You did warn him you werenât going to behave. Just decided to prove it too.
part 4
-
(Ricks part is up next bbs<3 )
taglist - @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @murder-jacket @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @grimesthinker @whatthefuuuck @imyourbratzdoll
#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixion x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#dbf!daryl#dads best friend trope#daryl x y/n#pick your poison
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HD longer fics recs : 90k to 100k words
Here are a few recs for fics ranging between 90k and 100k words.
You can see my recs for fics that have more than 200k here, between 150k and 200k here, between 125k and 150k here and between 100k and 125k here.
Allegiance and Sedition by SilentAuror [98k]
The war is in its fifth year, and Harry finds himself caught up in the confusion of friend versus enemy, spy versus traitor.
At Your Service by @faith2wood [95k]
Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. Thereâs only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.
Balance, Imperfect by @bixgirl1 [91k]
When Harry sustains an injury in the line of work, he no longer knows how to navigate the life he loved, and finds help and solace from the most unexpected source.
A Case of You by @epitomereally [97k]
Draco was doing just fine working as an Unspeakable in Paris, hanging out with his living and ghostly pals, inventing new spells, and definitely not thinking about Potter. Then, Lucius just had to break out of prison and turn his world upside down. Now, Draco has to return to England, where he is forced to confront how family ties bind usâand one infuriatingly fit Harry Potter.
Chasing Dragons by @the-sinking-ship [98k]
Draco can think of only one way to outclass his pleat-front-khaki-wearing politician ex, and thatâs by making headlines with an obvious upgrade. And who better to upstage the cheating bastard than the Saviour of the World, Harry Potter himself? Sure, Potter is a little rough around the edges in ripped jeans, a rumpled tartan shirt, and a permanent scowl. Draco reckons a haircut and a shave wouldnât hurt, either. But Potter is also in need of a Healer willing to keep his secrets, and Draco is just the man for the job. Itâs a perfectly reasonable exchange. They need only attend a couple parties arm-in-arm, smile nicely for the paparazzi, and tolerate each other long enough to convince everyone theyâre smitten. In return, Draco will keep Potter alive and in one piece. But it isnât long before Draco realises he might be in over his head, because Potter is ten tonnes of trouble packed into a leather jacket, and seems keen on hurtling himself towards death on the back of a flying motorbike. And that says nothing of Potterâs penchant for fire-breathing beasts and things that bite. Ah well, at least theyâll have some fun while it lasts. After all, Draco always did like a bit of danger.
Firebond by Oakstone730 / @i-didnt-wanna-do-itâ [94k]
Draco is forced to tutor Harry in potions. A slight problem occurs.
Helix by Saras_Girl [92k]
Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again. [2014 advent fic]
Hermione Grangerâs Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by @waspabi [93k]
âYouâre a wizard, Harryâ is easier to hear from a half-giant when youâre eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when youâre seventeen and late for work.
How I Met Your Father by @dracogotgame [95k]
Harry sits his kids down and tells them a story. A very long story.Â
How To Train Your Malfoy by @fencer-x [93k]
Good manners dictate that, when oneâs best friend Apparates onto oneâs doorstep holding the unconscious, haggard body of the schoolyard bully and begging for sanctuary, one ought to invite the two of them in for a cup of tea. Harry Potter sometimes wishes he werenât so polite.
I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di [93k]
Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now heâs a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography. An invitation to the Hogwarts class of 1998âs 15th reunion isnât welcomed by either of them, but neither could predict how the night, and their reunion, will upend their lives.
Light up the Night by Saras_Girl [98k]
This year, despite his better judgement, Harryâs love life is going off with a bang. Advent fic 2019.
Season of the Spirit by Saras_Girl [95k]
It starts with a swan. What happens after that is a bit of a mystery. 2018 advent story.
The Silent World Within You by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [95k]
Harry only wanted Malfoy for one night, one birthday. It wasnât meant to be anything more.
Tempus Fugit by Poison Pen [90k+]
A monumental cock-up in Potions means that Harry and Draco have more to contend with than mutual enmity. A journey of discovery, self-reflection and love.
Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid [99k]
What happens when youâre forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministryâs justice is his ticket back to everything heâs lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoyâs world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knewâabout his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when youâre forced to see that you were wrong?
I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!
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Saving part 3 BikerBucky Barnes x Reader
Warning:Â Violence, Abuse, forced relationship, age gap, obsession, sexual behavior,Â
You look at yourself in the mirror, James texted you early this morning, telling you to wear something pretty, God only knows how he got your number,Â
You are wearing a black sundress with sunflowers on it, it was spaghetti strapped, You covered up the bruises as best you could with your foundation, hoping you did a well enough job, you also wore a jean jacket over the dress just in case,Â
Your long brown hair was in a side braid, You wore flats you looked at yourself in the mirror turning from side to side, making sure there was no visible bruising, You let out a sigh, realizing you did a good job covering everything up,Â
You hear the sound of a motorcycle outside, and you didnât have to guess who that was, You grab your bag and make your way downstairs, Your father looking out the window with a beer in his hand, hearing you he turns around, his eyes looking you up and down,Â
âYou are not going with a biker.â He sneers,Â
You scuff,Â
âAnd what are you gonna stop me?â You ask sure it was out of character for you to talk back but knowing James was just outside gave you a bit of courage to stand up to your father,Â
He sneered at you,Â
âGet your ass back upstairs you are not leaving with him!â He yellsÂ
âjust try and stop me.â You say opening the door walking towards James who was  just getting off his bike, Your father standing in the door way glaring daggers at you, sure you knew you were going to pay for your attitude when you got home, But you didnât care at the moment you were actually allowed to have some fun for once in your life.Â
âHey doll you look gorgeous.â He says smirking
âThank you.â You say as he kisses you on the cheek,Â
âReady to go?â He asks handing you a helmetÂ
You were a little hesitant because you never in your life rode on a motorcycle but you nodded taking the helmet. You put the helmet on adjusting the strap under your chin James was smiling down at you then looked at your father who was still watching with daggers,Â
âI swear he always has a beer in his hand when I see him.â James chucklesÂ
You chuckle lightly If only he knewÂ
James gets on the motorcycle and you get on behind him,Â
âHold on tight doll.â He says you wrap your arms around him as he takes off,Â
Everything whipping by as he drove out of town,
He never did tell you where he was taking you but soon enough he stops the motorcycle, You get off first,Â
âA biker bar?â You askÂ
He chucklesÂ
âThis place has the best food, besides I thought I would show you a bit of my world.â He says getting off the bike, You hand him the helmet,Â
You arch your brow,Â
âCome on doll youâll love it, besides this is only our first stop.â He says slinging his arm over your shoulders, his arm landing on one of your bruises you wanted to wince but you held it in,Â
When you entered the bar you were slightly intimidated big bikers everywhere, some were at the bar drinking, others playing pool, and others playing darts, everyone looked in your direction they all smiled when they seen James,Â
You both sit at the end of the bar and order your food, you felt so out of place here sure you worked as a waitress at a strip club but big bikers are a different story,Â
âSo tell me why do you work at a strip club?â He askedÂ
âIâve worked there since I was sixteen, it pays good,â You sayÂ
âReally?â He askedÂ
âWhy do you sound surprised?â You askedÂ
âWell because most teen girls are busy going to the mall and being stuck up.â He says with a chuckleÂ
âI wasnât like most girls.â You say
âClearly.â He chucklesÂ
To you it seemed easy to talk to him, you didnât feel pressured into talking like you did most people he may be a big biker, But he seemed to care and want to know you as a person.Â
âSo what made you want to be a biker?â You ask
He chuckledÂ
âWell it wasnât like that at all, When I got honorably discharged from the army I needed to find a hobby, I learned that I had a love for Motorcycles, so I guess it just sort of just popped out at me then.â He says with a chuckleÂ
you smile at his story,Â
After you two ate your meal and he showed you how to play pool and he was convinced you hustled him he took you to your next stop a bowling ally,Â
âYou know how to bowl?â He askedÂ
âItâs been a long time.â You sayÂ
âHow long?â He askedÂ
âSince I was eight.â You say with a light laugh,Â
He chucklesÂ
Bucky couldnât place it but he got the feeling that you didnât get to have much fun, He always saw you working, And when he saw you starting to lighten up a bit it warmed him up, He knew you were supporting your father, itâs a small town, all he had to do was ask the right people, He knew why you worked your ass off just to support your father,Â
He didnât exactly like your father for a few reasons one was because of last night, Bikers are many things, brutes violent, rough, But there are lines they never cross and that includes hitting a woman,Â
Another reason he didnât like your father is the menacing vibe he got from him maybe it was just because of his drinking or maybe Bucky was looking way to far into it but he just didnât like the man,Â
As you both were bowling when you reached for your bowling ball the sleeve of your jacket revealed your wrist where there was a massive bruise,Â
James grabbed your forearm looking at the bruise,Â
âThis wasnât there yesterday, What happened?â He asked in a dark voice,Â
Your eyes widen not really sure how to answer his question, suddenly he was dragging you out of the bowling ally and he has you sat on the bench,Â
âDonât make me ask again.â He says in the same voice that sent chills down your spine
#mcu smut#biker bucky barnes#biker#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes smut#avengers family#avengers fic#abuse#obsessive love#protective bucky barnes#bikerbucky barnes#obsessive bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes imagine
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