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jinjeriffic · 10 months ago

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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 2

Part 1

Damian glared at the envelope. He and Father were in the process of analysing the letter for any signs of toxins, explosives or other traps. Obviously he wasn’t fool enough to open a missive from a questionable source without taking precautions. So far, all their scans had come up empty. Literally. The letter was defying all their attempts at chemical or spectroscopic testing, x-ray and magnetic resonance scans were inconclusive, it defied all properties of ordinary matter. It was frustrating. It was vexing. He was blaming magic.

For all intents and purposes, the letter looked like ordinary paper, with an ordinary wax seal, bearing the initials CW. The looping handwriting addressing it to Damian was precise and neat. Swiping the surface of the letter for chemical traces yielded no results. When Damian had tried to cut off a corner of the paper for analysis it had resisted all attempts, including a laser and a diamond headed cutting tool. Damian’s only satisfaction was that when Father had grunted and taken over the task from Damian, he had no more success than his son. As if Damian didn’t know how to perform the standard array of tests!

It certainly didn’t help that his siblings wouldn’t stop their incessant chattering!

“I’m just saying, ghosts wouldn’t be the weirdest thing we’ve encountered, Red. I’m not sure it would even make my personal Top 5.”

It seemed gossip among heroes travelled faster than the speed of light.

“Really, Nightwing? Ghosts? It’s far more likely to be a meta with something to hide. Or a few screws loose.” Damian could practically hear the eyeroll in Drake’s voice “And since when do ghosts act as glorified mailmen?”

“I don’t know Red, since when do aliens pretend to be Kansas farmboys? C’mon, we deal with magic users all the time!”

“And lets not forget people coming back from the dead” Red Hood interjected over the open comm line.

“Magic is just science we don’t understand yet. Any sufficiently analysed magic becomes indistinguishable from science!”

“B, a little help here?”

“Hn” Father straightened up from his position at the lab table “Oracle, any progress on clearing up the footage from Robin’s mask?”

Grayson threw up his hands with a frustrated huff while Drake smirked.

“The program is almost finished rendering. Whatever scrambler they used did a real number on the video quality. I’m surprised the audio is as clear as it is.” Oracle replied.

“Hn. And the isotope tracer on the money?”

“Sorry B, no hits on the local sensors. Wherever the guy went it’s either outside Gotham or shielded somehow.” she said, mildly frustrated.

“Maybe it’s ghost magiiiiic” Drake sing-songed. Grayson lightly cuffed the back of his head, to which the former Robin responded with a firm shove. Their interaction quickly devolved into a childish tussle.

Damian gave an annoyed huff. “Don’t you two imbeciles have anything better to do?”

“Aww, we’re just here to look out for our baby brother!” Nightwing teased.

“Yeah, we gotta make sure your ghost encounter didn’t leave any lasting psychological damage!” Red Robin added.

Before Damian could retaliate for their needling, Oracle chimed in. “Uh, guys? You’re going to want to see this. Most of the footage was corrupted beyond repair, but I was able to pull some partial stills and, well…” she threw a handful of pictures up on the screen. There was artifacting marring them, but parts of the stranger were visible in each of them. Oracle magnified one that had a pretty good view of his face.

“Holy shit” Drake whispered.

Damian frowned. “What?”

“Dami, he looks like you. Just… older.” Grayson said softly.

“What are you talking about?” Damian snapped.

“Disregard the pale colouring for a second. The nose, the chin… he looks like you if you had a growth spurt,” Drake wrinkled his nose “and went through puberty.”

The commlines erupted into chaos.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Spoiler exclaimed “are you telling me there’s an older version of Robin running around Gotham?!”

“Copy?” Batgirl inquired.

“Don’t tell me Talia cooked up Demon Brat 2.0!”

“Given that he looks older it’s more likely version 0.1 if anything,” Drake snarked, “though there’s the possibility of artificially accelerated growth rates…”

Damian had had enough. “Tt. You are ignoring the obvious - if this is some kind of supernatural entity it likely copied aspects of my appearance in an attempt to engender feelings of familiarity.” he said haughtily, pushing down the uncomfortable churning in his stomach. There was no way Mother would replace him with a cheap copy. She couldn’t! “Besides, the creature has obvious powers and neither of my bloodlines has any trace of the meta gene.”

“That’s ignoring the ghostly elephant in the room.” Grayson chimed in, “Maybe it’s a dead ancestor?”

Drake gave their older brother an annoyed look “Even a time travelling descendant from the future is more likely than that. And delivering a ‘prophecy’ to boot?”

Oracle pulled up an aged up picture of Damian next to the stranger’s, highlighting several reference points. “On closer inspection, there’s a couple of discrepancies. The cheekbones for one - Robin definitely takes after his mother, while our mystery meta looks more like… well… Robin’s grandmother on the paternal side.” she finished hesitantly. “B?”

They turned to look at Batman, who had remained silent during the whole exchange. If they hadn’t known him so well they would have thought him unaffected, but the tightening around his mouth betrayed his agitation.

“There’s no use in pointless speculation until we have more data to work from,” he growled, “Oracle, look for any reports of a meta matching the target. Since our regular methods have failed to yield results, I will contact the JLD about running tests on the letter.” He turned to Drake, “Red Robin, see what you can find on recent League activities. If this is another scheme by Ra’s or Talia we need to know about it.”

“The last thing we need is more demon spawn running around!” Red Hood groaned over the comms.

Damian was furious. This was absurd! To even indulge the possibility that that creature was in any way related to him was making him feel like he had swallowed battery acid. He was the Demon’s Heir! He was not replaceable! There was only one thing to do.

“Robin? Stop!”

He ignored his Father’s shout. He stomped over to the lab table, snatched up the envelope and broke the seal.

Nothing happened.

He unfolded the paper and saw the same handwriting that had been on the outside.

Brother of blood, brother of soul

Never buried but already mourned

In lightning and ice the scorned child returned

To strike down the Demon’s Head

With all that Death earned

Damian’s hand shook. He reread the lines over and over again, refusing to comprehend. He could feel his Father standing behind him, scrutinising the letter as well.

“Son…”

Suddenly, the paper burst into green flames, going up into smoke that dissipated unnaturally quickly.

Silence reigned for a few moments. Then…

“Well that was needlessly melodramatic” Nightwing remarked.

Part 3

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #dc domics #batfamily #no beta we die like danny phantom #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right)#fanfic #congrats bruce it's a boy #clockwork loves melodrama

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muntitled · 11 months ago

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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞

Farleigh Start x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hating Farleigh had never stopped him from using you

Content Warnings: Language, Fwb, Forbidden Relationship, Unedited, Dark Fic, Dark Humor, Coarse Jokes, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smoking, Weaponizing!Ollie, Smut (+18), Minors DNI, Slight CNC, Breeding, Neediness, Exhibition Kink, Grinding, Extreme Degradation, Humiliation Kink, Praise Kink, Hate Sex, Hair Pulling, Rough sex, Messy Sex, Spitting, Orgasm Control, Dirty Talk, Choking

He'd definitely bully me if he was real, and I'd be in love with him

"It's not like we're actually going to eat anything. Mother only insists we all make use of the furniture," Venetia's rambling is incessant as she walks briskly into the dining hall. You know her irritation is the by-product of the undiagnosed anxiety that comes with being forced into an uncomfortable Dior slip on such short notice.

In all fairness, you weren't doing so well either. The dress you are currently wearing is just as suffocating and Venetia's Saint Laurent heels dig into your bone. Your outfit is a velvety, laced up nightmare.

A torture chamber.

You wholeheartedly wanted to crawl into your own bed and forget about everyone and everything. In fact, the only thing keeping you mildly excited for dinner with The Henrys happens to be-

"Gentlemen!" You exclaim, before cleverly adding, "And you've brought Farleigh with you."

You all congregate at the left side of the dinner table, while the Henrys and The Henrys wives all mill about the dinner party. There are'nt any rules to things like this. It's all so self explantory.

What was not all too self explantory was your seating positions. Venetia forces you to sit in between herself and a very vexed Farleigh.

"How interesting," Farleigh barely addresses you in his tired monotonous lilt, "You're almost, nearly, just about, decently dressed." You bristle as you lower your behind to your chair, all while Farleigh shoots you a tight-lipped smile.

"Wow!" Your words drip with sarcasm, promptly halting Farleigh from flirting with the man to his immediate left - one of the Henrys closeted sons, no doubt. "That almost, nearly, just about sounded like a compliment!" You exclaim before leaning over beside him in a daring display of confidence. You place your hand tentatively on his thigh before whispering, "Am I going to have to use my rape whistle?"

Farleigh's scoff sends a string of lightning shooting down your spine.

"You're such a slut, I think you'd enjoy probably enjoy it." His breath is hot against your cheek and would be considered vile.

It should be vile.

Why can't you bring yourself to find Farleigh as vile?

With his elbows lowered underneath the table like a good little gentleman, Farleigh lets his fingers crawl tentatively over your thigh.

The games are on.

Your heart is beating at a million miles an hour with your mind reeling at not only Farleigh's large warm palm finding its home on your ample thigh but his words.

They are in complete contrast to everything you two have experienced together thus far on your stay in Saltburn.

As his fingers inch their way towards your inner thigh you're absolutely breathless. All you can think about is your escapade in the pool the evening before.

Both Catton siblings had been immersed in a very Catton argument, leaving you and Farleigh to your own devices on the banks of the stone pool.

With both your arms leaning over the ledge of the pool and Farleigh pressed to your side, no one could barely tell that Farleigh already had two digits dipped inside your weeping cunt. His hand moved slowly and deftly, so as not to cause too much of a stir in the water and give you two away. And he did it all while leaning his free hand out of the pool, cradling his copy of Jane Eyre with his eyes glued on the pages.

"F-Fuck Farleigh, can I cum?" He sighed at your agitated state.

"Not until I'm finished with Chapter 18." He mumbled almost distractedly, as if your needy voice was something akin to a pesky fly interrupting his reading.

Chapter 18, as you'd probably guessed, had never ended.

His cousins were back from their argument and his fingers left your cunt just as quickly. You had both went back to pretending to hate each other and you were left to 'rub one out' in the safety of your room like some hormonal teenager.

You truly are furious with him.

"What's this I'm hearing about a rape whistle?" Felix pipes up from the other side of Farleigh, equally dressed up all spiffy for the Henry's "You didn't rape anyone, did you?"

Farleigh's response is more of a hiss, "Of course I didn't-"

"Surely there must be more savory topics of discussion at the dinner table other than rape?" Comes the quick mediation of Elsbeth, who sits at the head of the table, clutching her string of expensive pearls as if they weilded the power to rid her of all these insolent little kids.

"Of course there is," you exclaim before turning your head to smile at the presence beside Ventia, nestled quietly in his seat like a little pauper.

Farleigh's manicured fingernails sink half moons into the skin of your thigh, peeking up from the slit of your dress as you lean away from him and say, "You must be Oliver! It's a relief to see another commoner around here." It was so undeniably petty to weaponize Farleigh's greatest foe, but the vexation of not being made to cum the night before still hangs heavily on your shoulder. And at the end of the day, you really just were a petty bitch.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ollie!" Slightly leaning over Venetia, the boy looks pale. As if he was biting down on his words. God, his tongue must be riddled in scars.

"Pleasure to meet you." Oliver cooly mirrors the warm and inviting smile stretched across your face.

"Don't lean over me," Venetia mumbles, "I'm not a child."

Meanwhile, Farleigh scoffs once again. While he injects himself in your conversation, his hands move swiftly to cup your vagina, nearly raking a gasp out of your throat in the process. "She won't sleep with you, mate." his brown eyes are trained on Oliver's. "She's a slut but not that big of a slut."

The extreme degradation laced in Farleigh's voice is enough to have you nearly moan out in front of all your friends, their family, and all the bloody Henrys.

Farleigh knew exactly which buttons to push to have you melting catastrophically against his fingers. He knew what words could have you slipping into subspace and he knew how to get your cunt weeping.

"Jesus Christ, could we not do this right now?" Venetia asks, staring pointedly at her cousin, and not at the sight of your legs parting to further accomdate his lazy rubbing against your cunt.

"I'm sorry, Cousin," Farleigh replies, "but it's not my fault your best friend is a raging bitch."

A breathless chuckle escapes your clenched teeth, "I-I'm not a-"

"Yeah, I am so completely done with this conversation," Venitia says, before strangling the stem of her wine glass and chugging it down as if it was nothing but water.

You turn back to hiss into Farleigh's ear, "You're such an a-asshole-"

"Say that again but don't sound like you're on the verge of squirting on my fingers in the middle of dinner." His grin is shadowed by the dimness of crystal chandlier and all the little candles posted along the table. "This is what you get for being a bitch," he says, socasually it makes you break your resolve by shifting in your seat, to better grind your cunt against his fingers, even for a mere second.

It's almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

"Oh-ho!" He aims a guffaw at the sky, "You really are a needy little slut-"

"This dress is shit," you suddenly push yourself out of your chair, creating the minimal noise of wood scraping against the floors. Most eyes are on you and Farleigh slyly removes his hands from in between your thigh. He leans over the table, bringing his fingers to his lips before spreading them over his gums like you would cocaine.

"I have to go change." You say to Venetia, before promptly (and very rudely) bowing out of the dinner.

A few seconds later, you hear Farleigh mumble something about needing a smoke and your heart rattles wildly in its cage. His footsteps are brisk behind yours, and you can feel his eyes sinking into your figure.

While your feet carry you to your destination and you let your brain catch on, you're already sneaking into Farleigh's room.

"Ah! Trespasser!" He exclaims excitedly behind you, with his hands stuffed in his pocket.

"You're so fucking annoying!" Your complains barely escape your throat before he's attacking you in a sloppy, open mouth kiss. He steals the air right out of your lungs, until he's breathing for the both of you. Farleigh slips out of his Abercrombie suit blazer, discarding the material as if it truly meant nothing to him.

His hands are everywhere, with special interests in your breasts compressed tightly by the uncomfortable stitching of your dress.

"This dress..." you mumble distractedly.

"Fuck this dress." He says, and you wholeheartedly agree. Perhaps it was desperate of you to turn in haste. Lifting the ends of your hair to present the zipper to him.

"You look fucking ravenous." He admits in a grave whisper, with his lips grazing the side of your neck, "I wanna fucking eat you." He says, "I wanna be inside you."

"You have such a dirty mouth, Farleigh," the groan that escapes his throat as he zips down your dress lets you know that you may have found your way in.

As the dress spills around your heeled feet, followed by your lacey underwear, Farleigh reattaches his full lips to the skin of your back. "What did you say?" His voice is like the rough gravel encircling Saltburn and you let your eyes roll to the back of your head as you arch backwards against him. His hardness presses against your ass and your fingers weave their way into his curls.

"I said youre a dirty boy, Farleigh." He ruts against you, almost as a second thought. "A dirty fucking boy,"

"Fuck," his hands dig into your hips, rubbing you against him. All as he pleases. "Fucking, fuck. I'm not gonna cum like this-" He says suddenly before spinning you back around.

It is few and sparse moments when you're reminded just how much taller Farleigh is than you and eventide it happens, the wind is knocked out of you. Farleigh advances on you like a literal predator until you're forced to fall backwards on his bed.

He barely undoes the bowtie, and only a few buttons go loose enough to showcase the beautiful expanse of his chest.

"You're absolutely soaked aren't you?" He asks, hovering on the bed above you.

"I need to cum, Farleigh, please-" You knew it was the only way to get what you wanted. You had unashamedly resorted to begging for a man who hooked his nails into your hair, forcing you to sit upright as he parted your legs.

"Look at you," he whispers before cackling maniacally. "You're so stupidly wet, you filthy fucking girl-"

"O-oh fuck, Fuck Farleigh," Your try by all means to grind your cunt into the mattress but is doesn't happen.

"When are you going to learn that I own your orgasms?" He whispers, with his other hand furiously undoing the belt of his fitted pants. "You don't cum until I say. You don't touch yourself until I say. You don't even fucking think about cumming until I say-"

"You're such a big little baby," you spit back, "A big needy, little b-"

You're once again pushed backwards and Farleigh's mounting you with his leaking cock locked tight in his fist.

You automatically lift your legs to present your cunt to him and he groans at the sight.

"I'm going to cum inside of you." He promises.

"I want you too."

Farleigh's eyes are heavy as he slides himself inside you. He looks down at you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. A treasure trove.

"Fuck- I need you to carry on talking." Farleigh says before shutting his eyes tightly. "Fuck you feel so good-"

"You're doing so well, baby," his hips rut inside you, accidentally pushing his cock in way too deep, way too fast and you both hiss and moan. "Such a good boy," you say with your hair finding his own curls, "You're being such a good fucking boy, Farleigh-"

"Open your mouth," you comply robotically. Farleigh places his hands on the underside of your chin before tipping your head backwards. His chains dangle above you as you stick your tongue out and he spits directly into your mouth. "Such a slut," he says, "Such a filthy fucking good girl." His words have you grinding your cunt against his cock until soon, you're both on the precipice of cumming.

"F-Fuck-"

"Such a good girl," he whispers, with his breath ghosting yoir face and the sound of skin slapping against skin only grows louder and louder. "S-So fucking good-" He whispers over and over again until your cunt clenches around his cock, promting Farleigh's orgasm with a quickness.

His cum spilling inside you has you slipping unceremoniously into your own orgasm and Farleigh wails in both the pleasure of your cunt milking him dry, or your fingers still pulling his hair like crazy.

"Fuck!" He exclaims before slumping on the bed beside you, "Get your fingers out of my hair, you psycho-"

"You love it, though," there's a teasing lilt in your voice, and all Farleigh does is scoff before patting down the pockets of his pants.

"You give me endless reasons to smoke," he says, before tipping his head back, unknwongly leaning into your embrace as your fingers coil through his soft curls.

"You'd smoke anyway."

#saltburn #saltburn x reader #saltburn smut #saltburn x you #farleigh start #farleigh saltburn #farleigh start x reader #farleigh start smut #oliver quick x reader

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thetriumphantpanda · 9 months ago

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new perspective | joel miller

Summary | the summed wedged between finishing your undergraduate degree and starting on your graduate programme just got a lot better when Joel Miller turns out to feel exactly the same about you as you do to him.

Pairing | dbf!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.7k

Warnings | Explicit Smut. dbf!Joel makes his return on my blog, mentions of food and alcohol, Joel being competent and fixing stuff, the classic dbf trop of a cookout, sex while your parents are around, oral sex (f), masturbation (m), unprotected PiV, talk of contraception, dirty talk, praise kink, THE RETURN OF MIRROR SEX BY THETRIUMPHANTPANDA, no outbreak au, no use of Y/N.

Authors Note | I missed dad's best friend Joel so I wrote him :) I hope you like him. This is a standalone but I won't rule out adding more in this universe if y'all like it. I have to shoutout @hellishjoel for talking me through how to make a moodboard so beautifully, thank you honey! If you like this, consider reblogging/commenting/leaving asks for me - it really helps!

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for my writing updates.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

The incessant dripping of the kitchen tap is driving you insane. You’d come back to Texas for the summer to relax. Hoping to leave behind shoddy workmanship that your landlord refused to fix because he would do it when you moved out, ready for the next lot of college kids to come in. If your dad had mentioned the dripping kitchen tap, the creaky floorboards on the stairs and the issue with water pressure that meant showering took longer than necessary, maybe you’d have stayed where you were.

“Someone’s comin’ to take a look at that later,” He’d said on his way out to work that morning, head tilting towards the kitchen, “Should be here after lunch.”

You’d waved him off, barely looking up from the book you were reading, legs outstretched on the couch with your notepad and pen resting on the arm. Wasn’t much of a summer when you were going straight from your undergraduate degree into a graduate programme.

As the day moved on, the heat got worse. Glasses of ice water turning lukewarm before you had a chance to cool down. The patio door open, hoping for a breeze every now and then, but finding no reprieve. The ice pop doesn’t even help that much, melting too quickly before you had a chance to enjoy it.

It’s pushing 2pm when there’s a knock at the door. Reading material and notepad pushed onto the floor, trash TV on in the background as you try not to sweat to death. It takes you a minute to register the noise, so long that whoever it is here to look at the tap knocks again.

You pull open the door, wincing when the heat of the sun being let in sinks across your skin. The change in light means it’s a few seconds before your eyes adjust to who it is standing in front of you. Joel Miller.

It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. He’s been busy, according to your dad, building his business with Tommy. Lots of out of town trips now Sarah is grown and away to college for her first year - schedules not quite lining up for you to see him when you come home, but God are you glad you have the chance now. He’s older now, obviously, greying a little. His hair has grown too, curls flopping onto his forehead and around his ears. He looks broader now than he did - the physical labour obviously working in his favour - you can see the arms of his t-shirt straining around the muscles there, but as you let your eyes trail down a little, you’re pleased to see that he clearly still enjoys his barbecue and beer.

“Y’gonna let me in, sweetheart?” He asks and that Southern drawl hasn’t changed either, low and slow, tickling just the right parts of your brain as they always had.

You’d thought whatever it was that you felt for him was just some silly schoolgirl crush, but the longer he hung around, the older he got, the more you realised he wasn’t something you’d grow out of liking. Not even the fair amount of fooling around at college had helped - boys that had no idea what they were doing, who couldn’t take instruction to save their lives. Whenever they’d leave, you’d lie there, sheets pulled up under you chin, and think, Joel Miller would never leave me like that - wet, wanting and unsatisfied.

“Sorry,” You mumble, taking a side step to let him in, “Here to fix the tap, right?”

“That’s right,” He replies, walking in and straight to the kitchen - he spends more of his time here than you do now, “Nice t’see you back for a while.”

You close the door, stopping off to lean over the couch and grab your half-empty water glass before following behind him to the kitchen.

“Weird to be back, honestly,” You muse, pulling a fresh glass out of the cupboard, “Didn’t think this place would ever change much, but it feels different.”

“Probably you that’s changed,” He talks as he opens the toolbox he’s bought with him, “Got a different perspective on things now you live in the big city.”

“You’re probably right,” You agree, filling the glasses with ice and water, sipping from one and putting the other near to where Joel is working, “And the fact no-one else left I suppose - did you know Becca from my year at school has had two kids since I’ve been away?”

Joel let’s out a low whistle as he uses some tool to tighten something on the tap, sighing when it doesn’t stop the leaking, “Two kids at your age?” He asks, “I could barely deal with Sarah, I don’t know how folks do it.”

“Yeah, me neither,” You shrug, leaning against the kitchen counter, “I can barely keep myself alive.”

He turns his head, his brown eyes roving you up and down, is he…? Is he checking you out? He lets out a little cough and reaches for his water, taking two deep drinks of it before he turns back to the job at hand, sinking to his knees on the floor to open the cupboard under the sink. He’s got his head inside it when he speaks again.

“I don’t know,” He muses, “You look pretty alive to me.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle, “Best compliment I’ve ever received.”

You can hear him laugh a little from under the sink, the noise punctuated with the sounds of him gently hammering at something.

“Can you pass me the screwdriver down?” He asks, an arm extending out towards you as you rifle through his toolbox, setting the tool in his hand when you find it.

It doesn’t take him much longer to fix whatever was wrong, the dripping from the faucet stopping, giving you the sweet relief of silence, save for him groaning as he stands from his knees.

“Maybe time to retire, old man?” You offer with a smirk as he shoves the tools back into the box.

“Careful,” He warns, but his voice is light and you know he’s teasing, “I’m in the prime of my life.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’m all done,” He says a few moments later once he’s cleaned up, “Tell your dad I’ll be back sometime in the week to look at the shower.”

You follow him back to the door, like a lost puppy on his heel, wanting to spend as much time as possible in his company before he leaves.

“Thanks for coming,” You say when he opens the door, “The dripping was driving me wild.”

“No problem sweetheart, my pleasure,” He smiles, “Anythin’ else you let your dad know he can call me, okay?” You nod in response, about to close the door, “It’s real good to see you again.”

“You too, Joel.”

It’s been just over a week since Joel had fixed the tap. He’d been back and forth to tinker with the other issues throughout the house, talking to you here and there, but tonight is the first time he’ll be here without the pretence of needing to fix something. It’s always the same in Southern households in the summer - each household in a group of friends taking turns to host some form of dinner for everyone else, eating together in the name of community.

There’s a table full of food - your mother had made enough side dishes to feed the five thousand, potato salad, fresh bread and enough green salad that you’d all be eating it for days afterwards. The fridge stocked full of beer and wine and the crowning glory of a cheesecake you’d slaved over for hours yesterday.

Joel is here, along with Tommy, and your neighbours on both sides too. Your mom and dad had invited friends from work, but just like you’d expected, none of your friends from before you left were able to make it - prior commitments of children, husbands and work.

It’s a low-key affair, a table full of grilled meat and sides and plenty of alcohol, but it’s the alcohol that’s made this difficult for you. With Joel sitting right next you, smelling of cologne and entirely unaware that you’re creaming in your panties about wanting him to fuck you.

You’d not been subtle today either - picking the shortest dress you own, bending over to pick something up in front of him, laughing at his jokes and pressing against him at the table whenever he says something interesting or funny - you want him to know that you want him, you want him to know that he’s all you’ve been able to think about since he showed up on the porch last week.

And you think he does. When you rest a hand on his knee under the table after a particularly funny story about his apprentice and a drill on the worksite, he gives you a pointed look, but doesn’t brush your hand away, and when you announce to the table that you need to use the bathroom and cool down a little, you’re halfway up the stairs when you hear his footsteps following you - almost hunting you into the bathroom and closing the door.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doin’, sugar.”

Got him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joel.” You smirk, turning around to lean against the sink as the bathroom door closes with a snick.

“Though you were a smart city girl now,” He muses, leaning his back against the door - you don’t miss his hand turning the lock, “You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Maybe you should explain it to me,” You say, looking up at him through your lashes, “I’d hate for us to have crossed wires.”

He shakes his head, but you can see the twitch of his mouth upwards, “Firstly, this little number,” His hand waves at your dress, barely short enough to cover your ass, “And the way you’ve been bendin’ over all night right when I happen to be lookin’, sittin’ right next to me, the way you’re puttin’ your hands on my leg whenever you laugh?” You shrug in response, “Definitely not the sweet girl I remember before you left.”

“Things change,” You offer, “New perspectives and all that.”

“And those new perspectives make you wanna fuck this old man?” He asks, eyebrow raised.

“Is that such a crime?”

“College boys ain’t doin’ it for you?”

“No.” You reply simply, trying to keep your grin from blooming as he starts stepping towards you until you can feel the heat from his body.

He’s looming over you, hands on either side of your body, caging you between his body and the sink. You look up, find his face close to yours and waste no time in pressing up onto your tiptoes to kiss him.

It’s soft. Softer than you’d imagined from him - his mouth moving slowly against your lips as he presses his body flush to yours. You open your mouth against his a little, let your tongue trail over his bottom lip, hands reaching up to grip onto his t-shirt as his tongue meets yours.

You think you could stay like that forever, tasting him, but he pulls away, hands gripping your hips through the material of your dress to turn you around. There’s a brief moment where he presses himself against you, letting you feel the hardening of his cock against your ass, but then he’s gone, dropped to his knees behind you, tearing your panties down your legs to pool at your ankles.

Joel brings his palms to the naked skin of your ass, squeezing before he pulls gently, spreading you open with a low whistle from his mouth.

“Don’t tell me you’re this wet from teasing me, sugar.” He says, leaning forward to press his mouth to the top of your spine.

You’re about to respond when you feel one of his hands drop and then brush against the slick folds of your cunt, all you can do is watch yourself in the mirror as you tip your head forward and wait for what’s coming.

You feel him run his fingers back down before one of them dips lower, dangerously close to your fluttering hole that’s begging to be filled - and he knows it.

“She’s desperate, huh?” He coos behind you, “Practically beggin’ for someone to fill her up, ain’t she?”

“Please, Joel?” You breathe out, looking at yourself in the mirror, “I need it.”

“What do you need?” He asks with a tender squeeze of his other palm to your ass, “Huh? You tell me sugar and I’ll give it to you.”

“Your m-mouth,” You stutter out, “Or your f-fingers, anything Joel, please.”

“Like this?” He asks, and you’re about to ask what he means when you feel the warmth of his tongue lapping at you.

He’s tasting you, lapping at your core where you’re seeping slick just for him, his fingers trailing up, finding that bud of nerves, gently circling as he drinks from you.

“Ohhhhhh,” You sigh out in relief, taking yourself in when you look at your reflection, hair a little mused, skin slick with sweat already, “Just like that.”

You can feel his tongue pressing inside a little as his finger finds a rhythm of short gentle swipes across your clit - he’s got your knees wobbling already, making you flatten your palms on the marble sink to keep yourself upright.

“You gotta be quiet, okay?” He says, pulling his mouth off you to speak, dragging his fingers from your clit, “You make too much noise, I’ll have to stop.”

You hum in agreement, waiting to see what his next move is, which is to sink of of his thick fingers right inside your cunt and to lean forward underneath you enough so his tongue is moving against your clit. You have to bite down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying out - if there’s one thing college boys don’t do, it’s this.

You’re not sure how long he stays down there, lapping at your clit and slowly moving that finger inside you, but you know you’d have stayed there all night if you could, teetering just on the edge until he felt like finishing you off.

There’s a whine that leaves your mouth when his lips leave you - the finger that was inside you also gone, but he swaps them again - soaked fingers rubbing at your clit whilst he literally sucks the wet from your cunt, like a man who has gone without water for months. The hand that he’s hand pressed to your ass cheek is gone too - you can hear him fumbling with his belt and the movement of material somewhere along the line too, then, he’s groaning into your cunt.

You turn your head a little, but you can’t see him well enough to confirm what you think he’s doing - lapping at your cunt and circling your clit whilst he’s fisting his own cock.

“Are y-you-” You choke out, trying to keep your moans quiet as you feel the coil tightening in your tummy, “Are you touching yourself?”

Joel’s fingers continues its movement across your clit but his mouth leaves you, “Course I am,” He confesses, “Couldn’t help myself, sugar.”

“Just-” You trail off, a small, quiet moan slipping through the cracks of your resolve, “Put it inside me Joel.”

“Not yet,” He says, “Gotta make you cum first.”

“M’close,” You breathe out, pushing your hips back a little to get him to go back to what he was doing before, “Please Joel, I wanna cum.”

“Go on then, baby,” He coos, tongue back to licking at your wet hole, “You can let go.”

You feel your cunt pull tight and your knees buckle and your teeth bite down onto your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as his fingers expertly push you over the edge. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing, begging for him to slip himself inside you so you have something to clench around as the hot furl of pleasure drifts like electric across your skin.

“Good girl,” You can hear him murmuring behind you, “So good bein’ so quiet like that.”

You’ve barely got time to recover before he’s standing up and pressing into you from behind, his lips wet and hot across the skin of your shoulder, a trail of wet being left from the drag of his beard where your slick has gathered.

“I don’t have anything on me,” He breathes into your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe, “You got anything?”

You shake your head, “I’m clean though, I promise,” You speak softly, feeling him press his cock through your folds, “And I’m on the pill.”

He’s dragging his cock back through your folds, letting the head of it nudge slightly at your entrance, “You let anyone else fuck you bare before?” His hot breath asks into your ear.

“N-no,” You confess, “Only you.”

You can feel him press himself forward a little bit, feeding the tip of his cock into your cunt. There’s no doubt he’s big, bigger than you’re used to, but there’s no ache, not even when he pressed his hips further forward until you can feel his skin against yours and he’s buried fully inside you.

“Jesus,” He chokes out, “Fuckin’ Christ you feel good.”

Joel brings a hand up to rest against your throat, but it’s only to guide your eyeline to the mirror in front of you. He’s crowding behind you, hot and heavy against your back as he slowly starts to move, dragging his cock from your cunt and back in, chuckling against the skin of your cheek when you smile and giggle as the tip of him nudges at the very depths of you.

“You look good like this.” He whispers.

“We look good like this.” You counter, struggling to breathe a little as he picks the pace up, hips hitting into the meat of your ass on every thrust.

“We do,” He smiles, dragging himself off you a little to rest his hand on the back of your neck instead, “You like watching yourself get fucked, baby?”

You can’t speak anymore, the angle of his cock brushing against something inside of you which has you struggling to keep yourself quiet, so you just nod your head and let him press you further down into the counter, holding you still with his firm hand on your neck as he really starts to fuck you now.

You’re glad you can hear the music from the garden from here - means your dad has it turned up loud enough that no-one would be able to hear the squelch of your pussy on every thrust or the sound of your skin slapping together as Joel speeds up. It feels too good, you feel too full and you can feel that tightening coil again, feel the clenching of your cunt around his cock.

Looking into the mirror, you can see he’s in a similar state to you, his eyes angled down to watch his cock disappear into the heat of your cunt each time, sweat gathering along his brow. He sounds good too - small grunts on every thrust and a suck of breath whenever you constrict around him.

“One more, baby,” He urges, “Want to feel you cum on my cock, okay?”

He shifts his position a little so he’s fucking up into you - head of his cock pounding against that spot inside you that only you’d been able to find until now. It makes your legs shake and you have to bite down on your fist when he makes you cum again to stop yourself from crying out - tears springing at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill as he talks you through it, tells you how pretty you look and how good you’re being for him.

“M’gonna cum baby,” He warns from behind you, “Where d’ya want it?”

You have no sense in your head anymore, he’s fucked it from you thoroughly, so you say the first thing that comes to mind - beg him to cum inside you, to fill you up. It’s safe, of course it would be, but you’re glad that somewhere in the haze of it all, he’s got more sense than you, pulling himself out of your cunt at just the last second, resting it against your ass as he spills across the skin of your lower back with a growl of your name on his mouth.

There’s silence as the two of you suck in breath to your lungs, letting your senses come back to you. Joel is quiet as he steps back and pulls his jeans back up to dress himself. He uses some tissue to clean you up, inspecting the hem of your dress for any stains he might have left before he’s dragging your panties back up your legs.

You have a try and fixing your hair, wetting your fingers from the sink to try and tame the flyaways, wondering if he’s going to walk away and leave you, but he doesn’t, he just stands behind you and waits for you to finish.

“I hope that was okay?” He offers sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck when you’re done.

“I asked for it,” You smile at him, “It was fine Joel.”

“Only fine?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

You chuckle and slap him playfully on his arm, “Best I've ever had,” You offer, “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” He chuckles, moving to unlock the bathroom door before he turns back to you, “We don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

You make a sign of a cross above your heart, “Not a soul.”

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elizaleclerc · 7 months ago

Text

two hearts, one home ☁️

charles leclerc x reader

summary: charles comfort after fem mc comes home from work with a migraine <\3

author's note: first post ever lol hope u like :,) also taking requests for more little blurbs! just message me

song: sweet creature by harry styles

word count: 1k

As you trudged through the threshold of your apartment, every step felt like a heavy burden on your tired feet. The long day at work had left your body drained and weary. On top of that, a sharp migraine had taken root in your head, making the second half of the day a struggle to get through. You could feel the tension radiating from your temples, as if tiny hammers were pounding away at your skull. Each breath was a chore, and you longed for the comfort of your bed, hoping it would alleviate some of the pain and exhaustion that consumed you.

Migraines were a familiar foe, often forcing you to retreat into the safe cocoon of your bed, shutting out the world and all its distractions. But today was different; there was no luxury of seclusion or quiet solitude. A crucial deadline loomed over your head at work, leaving no room for rest or respite. The persistent tapping of keyboards and boisterous conversations bombarded your senses, threatening to tip you over the edge with every passing second. Each sound felt like a sharp jolt to your throbbing head, aching with intensity. Tension coiled tightly in your mind, ready to snap at any moment.

With each step, the sharp click of your heels reverberates through the empty apartment, the sound echoing off the stark white walls. Yet even this noise is quickly engulfed by the incessant pounding in your head, a steady thump that feels like a constant reminder of your stress and anxiety. Your throat is dry and scratchy, evidence of a day filled with tension and worry. The faint taste of coffee still lingers on your tongue from a rushed morning, adding to the overwhelming sensory overload.

You languidly laid your purse on the counter and flicked your heels off your worn feet. It was a sluggish and melodious movement, as if your body was being pulled along by a slow-moving river and your actions carried the weight of the world.

Charles, clad in comfortable sweats, practically flew towards you with open arms. His embrace was warm and enveloping, his vanilla-scented skin bringing back memories of lazy Sundays spent in bed together. But today, that scent sent a sharp pain shooting behind your eyes. You mustered up all your energy to hug him back, but he immediately noticed something was off. He pulled back, his emerald eyes searching your face for answers.

“What’s wrong?” His voice, like a soothing balm, caressed your ears with its gentle murmur. It was as if he could sense the fragility of your body and mind in that moment, his tone soft and compassionate. His words were like a warm embrace, enveloping you in comfort and understanding.

Your eyes fluttered tiredly, “Migraine.” It was all you could manage to say, each word feeling like a heavy weight on your exhausted shoulders. Every uttered syllable and slight movement caused your already weak body to grow weaker.

Charles’s entire demeanor shifted as he tenderly placed his hands on either side of your face, his touch as gentle as a feather. “Oh mon chéri, I’m so sorry.” You managed a small smile for him before he took your hand and led you to the bathroom. “Let’s get you feeling better,” he said softly, his concern evident in every word and action.

As his fingers delicately traced the lines of your face, Charles used a soft cotton pad to remove each layer of makeup with gentle and precise movements. In between, he would pause to press light kisses against your lips, as if trying to revive you from a deep slumber. The pain in your head remained, but his tender affection brought some relief. Once finished, he slowly ran a brush through your tangled locks, his eyes focused on every move to ensure your comfort. You watched him through the mirror, admiring the love and care he showed towards you in such simple actions.

Each delicate touch was like a precious gift, cherished and savored amidst the throbbing pain in your head. With Charles by your side, it seemed as though all pain in the world faded away. His love was like a fragile, golden thread weaving its way through every moment spent together. As you sat there, exhausted from work and burdened by headaches, he presented you with your favorite silk pajama set and helped you change out of your stiff clothes. His skilled hands moved up to your shoulders, kneading away the tension as you closed your eyes in relief. Soft kisses trailed along your neck as he continued the massage, his warmth and presence alone enough to soothe your entire being. As the minutes passed, you couldn't help but feel better under his loving care and attention.

Your final destination, a luxurious white comforter and perfectly plush memory foam pillows beckoning you. As you settled into the soft embrace of Charles's arm, your mind finally began to let go of all its worries. Lying in bed, with your head still nestled against his chest, you couldn't help but marvel at the peacefulness that had come to you. Charles's heart beat steadily like a metronome, guiding you into a deep state of relaxation. With each rise and fall of his chest, you felt yourself sinking deeper into tranquility. In this moment, wrapped in his warm and protective embrace, the chaos of the world slipped away and all that existed was this safe haven of peace and love.

Your ultimate goal was not to drift off into sleep, but rather to simply ease the strain on your overworked mind by resting your heavy eyelids. Migraines often robbed you of the ability to sleep, making relief seem like a distant dream. Charles grabbed a book from his nightstand, propping it up to read on his lap. As he silently lost himself in the pages, the predictable sound of flipping paper lulled you into a peaceful daze. He would pause to place tender kisses on your temples, while his other hand held you protectively at the waist. Despite the struggles and hardships of migraines, you were grateful for moments like these when Charles's love enveloped you like a warm blanket, soothing both body and mind.

#formula one fanfic #charles leclerc #formula 1 #formula one #fanfiction #fanfic #f1 x reader #scuderia ferrari #x reader #hurt/comfort #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader

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mirohlayo · 8 months ago

Note

Your writing is so beautiful and amazing! I reread it everyday and spend hours smiling! May I please make a request for either Charles Leclerc or whoever you want! Can it be getting married but it is a planned elopement (no guests, just the two of you)? I am very shy and the thought of getting married in front of a crowd makes me want to cry from fear. Please and thank you!

First of all it's you who's gonna make me cry like omgg love youu so much it's so sweet 🥹💕 I took a little time (I'm genuinely sorry), but here it is! I'm not the best at writing about weddings but I tried my best. Hope you are going to like it !!

"I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH TOO, CHARLES"

( what if running away from your marriage was ultimately the best idea? )

warning : mentions of stress/anxiety, fear of crowd, all fluffly

note : i wrote this in like 45min so it's not the best thing i've written. i also used some french words but it's just affectionate surnames.

word count : 1.3k

It was finally the big day. This day that you were waiting for so much, this day that made you smile in an absolutely exceptional way. It was the promise of a new chapter, of the exchange of your heart with that of your soul mate. It was the promise that you were going to spend the rest of your days with the one who makes your heart beat a little harder every day.

Everything was planned. Absolutely everything. The ceremony, the vows exchanged, the alliances, the witnesses and therefore of course the guests. However, although the guests were all intended to participate in your wedding ceremony, you were not of the same mind about sharing this moment so important and precious to you with a crowd.

You weren't the most comfortable with people. Being very shy and reserved, the simple idea of having to present yourself hand in hand with your partner in front of all these people made you nauseous, and you also found yourself holding back a few tears of anxiety and stress from rolling down your cheeks. , when your maid of honor was doing your makeup.

Charles knew this very well. He was aware that his fiancée, and soon to be his wife, had problems with crowds and feeling comfortable in front of so many people. And for him, there was no question of this magnificent and wonderful moment being ruined by the fear that the looks of others provoke in you.

He wanted everything to be perfect. May you feel comfortable, happy and filled with happiness and love. It was his role, and it always will be, he would do anything just for you.

So, while all the guests had gathered in front of the aisle that you were going to go down in a few seconds, while all these witnesses were exchanging laughter, secret conversations, Charles approached you, hidden behind a magnificent and large tree .

His eyes softened at the sight of you, and his hand gently caressed your cheek. “It’s time, mon amour.” Your eyes were bright, because a few tears of joy were already threatening to fall on your face. You nodded quickly while smiling, your heart at peace. "You're just...perfect. You look so beautiful in that dress. I'm the luckiest man alive." He added, your beauty never ceased to give him the impression of admiring a divine being.

“But where have the bride and groom gone??” A voice louder than the others came to tear through the incessant conversations of the guests, giving way to panic because you were not present to walk down the aisle. People were panting, panicked by your absence. Everyone seemed to be looking for you everywhere, and footsteps were getting closer to the tree.

Charles’ eyes widened as a wave of stress suddenly hit you. Your future husband noticed this, and his eyes were terrified that you would feel bad and anxious during this day. Then he intertwined his hand in yours, and just this gesture soothed the irregular beating of your heart. "It's okay, mon coeur. I've got you, don't worry. Breathe with me."

He took a deep breath and encouraged you to do the same. The air that infiltrated your lungs made you more peaceful. A fairly close sound of a leaf suddenly came to tickle your ears. And without you having time to react, Charles dragged you with him, hand in hand, far from all these people.

“W-wait Charles!!” His hand in yours pulled you towards him as he ran, under the cherry blossom petals that were falling again. And it's as if time seemed to stand still, during that moment. As the sun's rays came to rock your faces, a big smile appeared on your lips as you continued to run to keep up with your fiancé.

Guests would run up to the tree to catch up with you. But it was already too late. All they could see was the magnificent scene unfolding before their eyes. As the gentle breeze caressed their hair, they saw in the distance two young engaged couples madly in love with each other, escaping their wedding ceremony, hand in hand, a huge smile on Charles' face as 'they heard the sweetness of your laughter.

They looked like two children, but two children who were simply happy and completely in love.

You couldn't help but feel light. Light and free. You were running away from your own wedding ceremony with your lover and it seemed so unreal that you felt like you were living in a romantic movie. But the look that Charles gave you during this flight warmed your heart. Because you could see tears forming there, and quite simply all the love he has for you. So you too could no longer.

You couldn't hold back those tears of happiness anymore, as they fell freely down your face.

“It suits you so well, mon amour” Charles brushed against your fingers, where his engagement ring was on. This ring was simply sublime. It highlighted you, just like Charles's.

Sitting next to your husband, your head resting on his shoulders, you enjoyed the sunset and the breeze that made you shiver. You still had your wedding outfits on, and you really looked like two crazy people who had escaped an arranged and predestined marriage. However, it was the opposite. It was the romantic elopement of two people who wanted to do as they pleased.

Still, you couldn't help but be torn. What if your husband wanted a real, traditional wedding ceremony, celebrated with all the guests? You sighed deeply and Charles noticed it. He looked at you questioningly, and you lowered your head, somewhat ashamed.

"I'm sorry. We eloped from our wedding and it's just... maybe you would have preferred that we didn't elope and had a traditional wedding. With all the witnesses and guests." Some tears threatened to flow down your cheeks again. Not because of your words. But by the gentleness with which Charles entwined his hand in yours, and gently lifted your chin so that he could admire you.

All his gestures were fluid and full of love. Just like his gaze, which admired you in an absolutely exceptional way. As if you were the most beautiful wonder in the world. "Don't apologize, y/n. I'm so happy, you have no idea how much. So happy to have run away to your side, to have left this wedding ceremony behind us." He blinked away the few tears on your pink cheeks. "I just want you to be happy. To see you smile, to laugh. And you did it today, thanks to this escape. I'm so happy that we ran like two idiots, and especially to have given you this ring on my finger. If I had the chance, I wouldn't change this day in any way, because it was the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me. The most beautiful day of my life."

You nodded rigorously, a big smile plastered on your face. Your heart melted at his words. "I'm finally going to be able to spend the rest of my life by your side, and you have no idea how much I can't wait. I love you deeply and sincerely, my heart. I love you so much."

“I love you very much too, Charles” You happily said.

This beautiful day, this beautiful wedding ended with Charles kissing you as if it was the last one he had the right to do, as if nothing mattered anymore. His lips desperately sought yours, as this kiss sealed the promise of a bright future filled with love and hope. A future where Charles will end up living his life by your side, and a future where you will remember this incredible memory of your marriage union.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 x reader #cl16 x you

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emeritusemeritus · 1 year ago

Text

Property of Fred G. Weasley

(Gif not mine)

Title: Property of Fred G. Weasley.

Pairing: FredWeasley x Gryffindor!reader (established relationship)

Timeline: Non-specified (all characters are above the age of consent)

Summary: Gryffindor!Reader is tired of people not knowing which twin she is in a relationship with. She makes a public declaration to counter this and her boyfriend sees it all, luckily for her.

Warnings: Sexual themes, Mentions of sex but no actual description or smut, established Relationship, possessive behaviour, potential possession kink.

You'd had enough. Enough of the incessant questioning, enough of the rumours and accusations.

Unfazed by the small crowd around you, you threw down the book that was open in your lap as you slid off the couch and took a large step up onto the wooden coffee table so that you could simultaneously address everyone listening in within the Gryffindor common room. The coffee table added just enough height so that you stood proudly, looming over everyone as you prepared to make your statement.

Luckily for you, the Gryffindor common room was quiet this evening with only a few of your friends and classmates huddled round in the dim, cozy room as you played games and talked until you retired for the night.

Everyone else in Gryffindor was likely still celebrating from the quidditch win earlier that evening or catching the end of dinner before the kitchens closed, hence why you were the only ones occupying the space.

You and a few others had been unfortunate enough to land yourself in detention with Snape this evening, which in itself was entirely awful, but he had at least been uncharacteristically considerate enough to allow you to get an early dinner beforehand. It had however, meant that you had missed the mid season quidditch game between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff and you'd only found out about the house win when you'd returned to the common room.

The group of inquisitors you called friends watched on at your uncharacteristic actions, watching with curiosity and disbelief as you made your way up onto the table. You weren't sick of their constant questions per se but you were overwhelmingly frustrated at their blatant disregard of the facts and misguided attempts at definition.

"For the last time, I'm dating Fred Weasley! Not George, not Bill and bloody hell even Ginny at this point! Not 'one of the twins' because you're too frigging lazy to figure out who's who and think you'll be right 50% of the time by blindly guessing! Fred. Weasley. No I'm not dating both, I don't get them mixed up and I've never once kissed George by accident. I'm Fred's girl!"

Ginny and Hermione who were sat beside you on the couch look on in wonder, attempting to hide their giggles behind their hands at your rant. Truth was, neither of them were truly able to tell the twins apart either, as most couldn't, but at least they respected your choice between the identical pair, knowing which one was your boyfriend.

You suddenly turned, quieter now as you focused your attention on Alicia Spinnet who was looking at you with wide eyes. Her question had been the catalyst to your outburst and she looked stricken and nervous at the thought.

"Now, does that answer your question?" You said calmly though your tone was dripping with sarcasm. She merely nodded in reply and fell silent again.

You smirked at her sarcastically, about to climb down from the table when your eye caught on the familiar shade of ginger hair standing in the corner, no doubt having crept in through the door during your rant.

Your eyes widened with embarrassment at the realisation you'd been caught out and your boyfriend had probably heard and seen your little declaration, hoping that he wouldn't be mad at you for practically shouting across the castle that you were dating. You plucked up the courage to look at his face and immediately noticed the smug smirk plastered on his face, eyes shining in amusement as he uncrossed his arms and made his way quickly over to you, his dirty red quidditch robes swishing behind him as he stalked darkly.

He silently reached out for you, holding you by the waist as he helped you down from the table, lifting you effortlessly as he brought you back down to the familiar level, him towering over you as usual. His eyes were shining with delight and amusement, his smile wide on his face as he held you tenderly, not caring about the other students all suns you.

"Fred's girl Eh?" He asked, leaning in to whisper in your ear as his right hand raised up to cup your jaw tenderly. His smirk only grew when a faint blush bloomed across your face as your wide eyes looked into his. You bit your lip nervously and nodded, feeling more confident by the second as he displayed no signs of anger at your actions.

"Fred's girl," you repeated, leaving no room for questioning as you nodded gently, a flirty smile sprouting over your own face. Fred's eyes were darkening by the second at hearing your words, knowing just how much the whole situation was playing into his mild possessiveness, knowing just how territorial he could get about you. The hand that was clutching your waist was growing ever tighter, his thumb rubbing little marks into your fleshy hips.

"Well, y/n," George says as he shifts beside you both, the only person in the common room brave enough to interrupt, "don't think anyone will be confusing you as my girlfriend anymore. Shame really," he mutters, earning a swift slap to the back of the head from Fred, who hadn't even looked away from you once despite his accuracy of the slap to his twin. George immediately gets the hint and walks away with a smug grin, chuckling lightly to himself as he goes to sit with Lee on one of the sofas. You turn your attention back to Fred who has clearly not taken his eyes off you throughout George's intrusion but does flick his eyes over to his brother and roommate quickly, seeing that they are both occupied, meaning that their dorm room is not. Without a second to spare, he reaches for your hand and begins to pull you up the stairs towards his dorm, kicking the door closed from behind with his foot as he reaches for you, pulling you into a bruising kiss, hands wandering and unintelligible murmurs against your lips.

——

You both lay beside each other attempting to reclaim your breath as a fine sheen of sweat covers both of your naked bodies, immediately feeling the exhaustion wash over you at the energy you had just used. Fred has pulled you into his chest, your naked breasts pushed against the smooth skin of his torso as his arms stay firmly locked around your waist, the bedsheets crumpled around you and entangled in your limbs.

"So, that was new," you said quietly, not wanting to break the calm atmosphere in the room. Fred shifted slightly and you turned your head to look up at his face, seeing that he was a little confused at what you were referring to, seeing as sex was far from new with you two.

"Who knew Fred Weasley had a possessiveness kink?" You smiled into his peck where your face nuzzled. Your head bobbed as he chuckled, the sound like music to your ears as he reached down to swat your bum.

"Princess, you don't know that that does to me, having everyone know that your mine."

"I think I have an idea," you joked, gesturing to your entwined, naked bodies, earning another chuckle from him.

A moment of peaceful silence passes until Fred speaks up.

"It really bothers you that much? That people think you're with George?" He asks. You can tell there's something deeply rooted in his question, a nervousness or vulnerability that he was trying to mask. You shifted in his hold and rolled onto your tummy to look at him face on, not missing his small flash of a glance at your naked breasts which earned you a cheeky smirk once he realised he'd been caught.

"I love George, he's one of my best friends and any girl would be so, so lucky to have him as her boyfriend but I'm dating you and I want everyone to know that," you say trying your best to sound extra convincing as you reeled off your thoughts.

"Well after your little performance, I doubt there's any question really," Fred jokes, immediately chuckling as you try to hide your face in his tummy in embarrassment at your actions.

"Maybe we should get T-shirt's made or something," Fred jokes, trying to pry you away from hiding your blush.

"If found return to Fred Weasley, then yours says I'm Fred and we'll get Georgie one that says not Fred!" You joked along, giggling at the thought as Fred barks out a laugh.

"Or tattoos," he adds with a shrug, "T-shirt's would be way too hard to synchronise all the time," he says jokingly playing along as if he was seriously considering. "I could get 'Fred' tattooed right across my forehead."

"Don't you dare," you say quickly, shifting your weight and reaching up with your hand to smooth back his hair from his face, your thumb rubbing over the exact forehead he had just mentioned desecrating.

"A tattoo wouldn't be such a bad idea though..." you said wistfully, drawing his attention back to you as an idea washed over you. You reached out for his left hand and guided his fingers down your body to rest just above your mound, near your right hip.

"Property of Fred Gideon Weasley, marked right here..."

You really should have anticipated his next move, knowing what your little game would do but as you were unceremoniously thrown onto the bed with a freshly aroused boyfriend towering over you, you couldn't help but let out a tiny squeak, seeing how far his eyes had darkened at your words, suddenly finding his possessiveness bubbling over once again.

He loomed over you, his naked body encasing and dwarfing yours completely as he looked at you with hunger in his eyes. That look meant only one thing; you would not be leaving the bed for quite a while.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #Fred Weasley x you #harry potter #fred weasley imagine

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dreamywriter143 · 2 years ago

Note

Do you think you can do a Neteyam x fem!teacher!Reader where shes Tuks teacher and Neteyam falls for her?

Karyu

Status: Request By Anon

Genre: Romance, FLUFF. Just cutie's falling in love.

Parings: Neteyam X Y/n (Reader)

Summary: Tuk always speaks highly of her teacher, who is nothing short of perfection in her eyes. After Kiri is tasked a week's worth of training the duty to take Tuk to classes is put upon the sons. What’s to happen when a certain someone meets this ‘famous’ Y/n? How will he act when he realizes he to, is drawn to her like her students?

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: Thank you for your request!! I had so much fun, I hope I did you proud. It’s kind of rushed because I have a lot on my plate but I hope that didn’t diminish it's quality. Please enjoy my lovelies!!

———————————————————————

“What is that?” Neteyam asks, curiously peering over his little sister's shoulder to see what she fiddled around with. Her eyes furrow with concentration, her tongue haphazardly sticking out between her lips as she weaves the twine carefully.

“It’s a bracelet” Tuk states, not moving from her position on the mat. Neteyam opts to sit beside the girl since it was Lo’ak’s turn to help Neytiri prepare dinner tonight. He decided to indulge in his little sister's affairs seeing he was free.

“Is it for me? That is my favorite color” Neteyam points out with a warm smile. He points to the shiny stone she had added to the bracelet. It wasn’t perfect, it had twine sticking out here in there making it look a little messy. The weaving wasn’t consistent as many parts were either too loose or too tight. But nonetheless you can tell it was made with love, and Neteyam felt his heart swell thinking Tuk was making him such a wonderful gift.

Tuk snorts out, her eyes glancing at her hopeful brother. “No! It’s not for you!” She says, sticking out her tongue.

Neteyam frowns scooting closer to her. He nudges her shoulder making her hide her bracelet in the process.

“Not for me? Then for who?” Neteyam asks, a sting of jealousy running through him. Due to his rigorous training he hasn’t been able to spend much free time with his siblings. Especially Tuk. He had felt like the wedge was getting bigger in between him and his youngest sibling. He desperately wanted to mend their relationship . And her making a bracelet not for him only dampened his mood.

“It’s for Y/n '' Kiri pipes up. She places the bowls on the mat while helping Neytiri and Lo’ak. Neteyam furrows his brows at the unknown name.

‘Y/n….who is Y/n?’

“Who?” Neteyam asks as his entire family slowly situated themselves in a circle. Kiri helped Neteyam pass each bowl as they filled it up with food. Lo’ak sat down with a thump, his shoulders relaxing.

“Tuk’s teacher? The pretty one.” Lo’ak adds, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth. He quickly swallows it when Neytiri glares at him for talking with his mouth full. Neteyam turns to Kiri, he knew of Tuk’s classes but he had never heard of an ‘Y/n’. He sometimes caught the end of Tuk’s incessant ramblings on how great her classes were but he never asked further regarding the subject.

“You’re making a bracelet Y/n? That’s amazing Tuk, Y/n will love it” Neytiri hums, her smile widening as she catches a glimpse at Tuk's hard work. The frown on Neteyam’s face deepens. Did everyone know of this Y/n? How had he missed her?

“I hope so, I used her favorite colors!” Tuk says taking out the piece, her family peering down at the woven bracelet. Lo’ak bites his tongue from letting a rude comment slip through. He simply nods, looking down at his food.

“It’s beautiful”Jake agrees, delicately taking the bracelet that seems to disappear in his large hands. Neteyam looks down to his plate, picking at a piece of fruit. It didn’t help that he felt jealousy over a stranger he didn’t even know. But it was a stranger that the family was well equipped with. He felt left out.

“Speaking of Y/n, I won't be able to pick and drop off Tuk for this week,” Kiri says, slowly chewing on her food. Neteyam and Jake both look at her in question

“I would like to shadow Mo’at for the week. She suggested it” Kiri adds, Neytiri nods in acknowledgement.

“I can do it! I’ll pick and drop off Tuk!” Lo’ak is quick to pipe up, his tail swishing excitedly at the thought. Neteyam’s eyes widen at his brother eagerness. Jake groans, handing the bracelet back to his daughter who pouts.

“No! When you drop me off you’re always late! Plus you never actually drop me off, you’ve never even introduced yourself to Ms. Y/n '' Tuk complains, causing Lo’ak to scoff.

“Also may I remind you that you’re still grounded, son” Jake reminds him, his eyes boring into Lo’ak who looks away. He had been dying of boredom over the past week as he paid for his latest screw up. He desperately needed something else. Something to occupy his time and provide some sort of distraction.

And visiting a certain pretty girl with the excuse of escorting his little sister seemed like the perfect distraction. Even though he never really got the courage to actually even utter a simple greeting her way, always opting to stay a good few feet when he used to drop Tuk off. That didn’t stop him from watching her from afar though, always admiring her from a distance.

“But dad-”

“No buts! End of discussion” Jake says sternly. Lo’ak’s ears flatten as he glares at the bowl situated on his lap. His eyes twitch in agitation at his fathers decision.

“Neteyam?”

“Yes sir?”

Neteyams ears twitch, his body turning to face his father who regarded him. Jake’s eyes wander around his family as he formulates a plan for the upcoming week taking into consideration what his eldest daughter had told him.

“I’ll rearrange your schedule, you’ll be dropping and picking up Tuk for the entirety of this week '' Jake declares. Lo’ak scoffs loudly, munching on his food with mild annoyance. Neteyam’s body stiffens. He felt mixed emotions run through him as he mindlessly nodded. He felt disappointment knowing he’d have to sacrifice some of his daily training and lessons to accommodate Tuk. But a part of him was curious.

Very curious to meet this so called ‘Y/n’

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

Tuk jumps up and down giddily on her way to her anticipated class.She skips along Neteyam who walks with a smile. He enjoyed seeing her happy. He saw how she held a tiny pouch that Kiri crafted for her easily this morning to ensure the bracelet stayed neatly tucked away till she handed it off.

Neteyam looks forward to the tent he was instructed to drop Tuk off to. Children around Tuk’s age surround a female Na’vi squealing in happiness. The figure who they crowded must have Y/n, her slender back facing Neteyam as he nears them pulling Tuk along. He knew he was a tad bit late today, he had forgotten his new duty when he woke up that morning.

“Can we go to the river today Ms. Y/n?”

“No! Can we go to the flower beds? I wanted to finish the crown you taught me to make!!”

“We did that last week Sa’ylu!! Let’s do something fun today!”

The children chatter with their eager requests causing the female Na’vi to giggle, shushing them down. Neteyam smiles to himself. She seems to have a lot of patience, especially as some of the kids tugged at her for her attention. He felt pity knowing this teacher had to deal with a handful of them on the daily.

“Quiet down children, we have a big day planned ahead of us. Let’s just wait until Tuk gets here” the soft voice replies back patiently. Neteyam quirked an eyebrow in confusion as to why she sounded so young. She sounded as young as him, weren’t teachers supposed to be…older?

‘She sounds….angelic?’

Upon hearing her name Tuk rips her hand from Neteyam’s grasp, running a few feet towards her friends. She greets everyone with a huge smile immediately bringing out her punch to show off what she had made.

“I’m here Ms. Y/n! I’m sorry I’m late, my brother had to drop me off today” Tuk informs before being swept away from her friends. They eagerly crowd her to inspect her handiwork.

Neteyam throws his sister an unimpressed glare before turning to the teacher ready to apologize. He had forgotten about dropping her off earlier in the day which is why they were late this morning to begin with. He was ready to take the blame.

Y/n turns around, a small smile placed delicately over her lips. Neteyam feels himself standing stiffly at the sight, a shiver running down his spine upon eye contact. He felt his jaw hang slightly ajar as he gawked at her beauty. Neteyam’s eyes widen as he realizes the teacher, Y/n, was around his age. She was far too young to be a teacher. And way too pretty, just as Lo’ak had claimed.

In fact, Lo’ak’s words didn’t serve justice, she was beautiful. Breathtaking even. Her eyes shined brightly under the sun as she smiled politely at him. She had such a calming aura surrounding her, it made sense as to why children were drawn to her. As if she were a magnet.

Neteyam couldn’t believe that he had missed her, never noticed her amongst the crowds. She looked hard to miss, her beauty striking and eye-catching. Neteyam slightly cursed himself for not getting involved with Tuk’s classes beforehand.

“Hi there, you must be Lo’ak?” Y/n asks, her voice delicate as she steps closer to the gawking boy. She squints her eyes, her brows slightly furrowing as she realizes that the boy in front of her wasn’t the boy that usually stood far away when dropping Tuk off.

Shaking his head he quickly clears his throat, he felt himself frown at her words.

“N-no! I’m Neteyam…..your Ms. Y/n?” He asks, his eyebrows still raised in question. Y/n’s eyes widen her face flushing purple at his words. Neteyam wanted to take a picture of her expression, he couldn’t even get mad when she looked so cute while embarrassed.

“My apologies! I just assumed that when Tuk meant her brother, it would be Lo’ak” she admits, her eyes dancing around to avoid looking him in the eye. She felt horrible for mixing the names up, especially since she messed up the next Olo'eyktan’s name.

“It's no problem, usually Lo’ak would drop her off when Kiri couldn’t. It’s just he has to pays his dues first, he’s grounded�� Neteyam smiles at how easily he was able to talk to her. It was a miracle she wasn’t able to hear the rapid beating of his heart. Neteyam held himself firmly against the ground as he held back the urge to wag his tail. He was enjoying the interaction greatly.

“Ah, typical of Lo’ak-” Neteyam frowns at her words.

‘Typical of Lo’ak?’

Lo’ak did seem friendly when the family mentioned her, had the two become close? Lo’ak did call her pretty, he even wanted to drop off Tuk in order to see her. Neteyam felt that familiar gut feeling of jealousy overcome him.

“-Is everything alright with Kiri? She usually drops off Tuk. And on time” Y/n teases causing Neteyam to flush bright purple.

“She had some lessons with Mo’at…I’m sorry about that. It won't happen again.” Neteyam informs, scratching his neck out of nervousness. Y/n flashes a kind smile at his apology before glancing back at the children. They seem to get more and more impatient as they wait for their favorite teacher.

“Well, thank you. Will you be picking her up as well?” Y/n asks, peering up at Neteyam. Neteyam felt his heart surge, she looked so delicate he felt the sudden urge to pull her in for a hug. Looking all cute and small should be illegal.

“Yes, I’ve been tasked to for the entire week” Neteyam explains, fighting the heat along his cheeks. He hadn't noticed her amongst his people before, she seemed calm and soft spoken. It made sense as to why she never caught his eye before, he didn’t notice anyone that wasn’t outgoing as he was always too busy training and aiding his father, he wishes he knew her before though, her presence seemed to scream out to him.

“That sounds good, guess I’ll be seeing you around often?” Y/n says softly. Neteyam finds himself gazing at how her long lashes flutter as she blinks. He felt a lump form in his throat, and unexplainable heat talking over his body. Unable to form words he simply nods his head. The future of the clan turned to a puddle of mush at the mere interaction with a girl he never met.

Y/n giggles before throwing him one more smile. She quickly walks to her students who cheer at her arrival. Neteyam watches as she takes the kids with her towards the forest.

Neteyam clears his throat before deciding to sprint away. He didn’t know why but something about her was really unique and eye-catching. He decided right then and there that accompanying Tuk too and from classes wouldn’t be a bad thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days Neteyam made it his mission to arrive on time every day. He woke up bright and early, his heart racing at the mere thought of seeing Y/n again. He would wait for Tuk, always having the breakfast ready to go. They would always arrive at least 30 mins earlier than the other kids, a perfect excuse to be alone with her. Neteyam would cherish those 30 vital minutes to converse with her and get to know her better.

From these interactions he's learned alot from her, and also realized why he never saw her around in the first place. She had a lot to do, a lot of responsibility on her shoulders. She had a little brother she had to take care of, who accompanied her driving her classes as a student. Other than that she spent the majority of the day foraging and hunting for herself and her brother.

Y/n had lost both of her parents long ago and it's been just the two of them ever since. She has been so caught up in taking care of her sibling and teaching she barely had time for any leisure activities. Neteyam always found himself smiling at her, gazing at her face as she relayed her stories.

He couldn't help but grow to admire her more and more, he loved how she cared for the children. How strong she was providing for herself and her brother from such a young age and the fact she was happy. She always looked on the bright side, her smile never weaving which only proves how strong the little girl truly was. Just as the saying goes, the saddest people have the brightest smiles.

On multiple occasions Neteyam offered his help, during small breaks he would locate the group and approach them. Always offering to hunt for her, help her with the students. He knew he had great skills, something that should help her out. Y/n always declined claiming she would feel bad for taking the the future clan leaders help without giving something in return.

But Neteyam would have done anything she asked in a heartbeat. Because he slowly began to realize what the fluttery feeling meant as their interactions grew. He was infatuated with her, he was in love with her.

Neteyan immediately confronted Kiri regarding the realization when he caught he in between her classes. Kiri immediately became supportive, claiming he should start preparing courting gifts as many other Na’vi men have also noticed how amazing Y/n.

“Where are you going?” Lo’ak asks, petting his Ikran who cooes under his touch. They had just finished patrol and were getting ready to head home. Lo’ak noticed how Neteyam quickly began discarding his gear and how he hurriedly bid his Ikran goodbye.

“To pick up Tuk” Neteyam says fixing his hair off the leaves that got stuck. Lo’ak frowns at his words, his gazing following his Ikran who flew away after he bid farewell. He clears his throat of the raspiness.

“Isn't it early? They're not done till much later” Lo’ak informs watching Neteyam get restless answering his questions.

“I know, but Y/n and the children are picking fruit today. I thought it would be nice to help them out?” He shrugged. He misses that flash of jealousy that overcomes his little brother's face.

“Y/n? You call her Y/n?” Lo’ak spits, her eyes narrowing at his older brother. Neteyam’s ear twitches to his brother's tone.

“Yes, were quite acquainted now so she wanted me to call her by her name. We are the same age after all” Neteyam turns to his brother, his broad shoulders stiffening at his brother's expression.

“Ah I see…Well today is that last day right? You won't need to drop Tuk off anymore right?” Lo’ak asks, walking past Neteyam. He grits his teeth following after Lo’ak into the village.

“Yes, but it's not like I'm not going to see her around '' Neteyam says, not realizing Lo’ak clenches his fist at his words.

“Is it true?” Lo’ak asks, turning to face his brother. Neteyam stops abruptly, tilting his head to the side in question.

“I overheard you speak to Kiri…are you planning on courting her?” Lo’ak notices a deep blush spread across his older brother's features. Neteyam clears his throat, his eyes dancing around awkwardly.

“Yes…yes I do” he says shyly. Lo’ak slumps his shoulders in defeat. He watches sadly at how happy his brother looked, the look of pure love and adoration that radiated off of him at the mere mention of the girl. He would be lying if he said he didn't catch how Y/n gazed at Neteyam when he could sneak nearby. He saw how her eyes filled with awe as he interacted with her students. That's when he knew. Lo’ak knew he didn't stand a chance.

“Good luck brother, I hope it all goes well” Lo’ak says softly. Neteyam smiles wide at his brother encouraging words. Neteyam sees his warrior friend wave to him calling him and his brother. Slightly puzzled they walk to the boys who smile wide. Neteyam noticed how they kept glancing back at a forming group, his eyes widen noticing the familiar students crowding and chattering amongst themselves.

“What is it? What's wrong?” Neteyams asks, his eyes dancing from student to student. He seems to drown out his friend's words as Tuk emerges from the group running towards her brothers in a hurry.

“Lo’ak! Neteyam!” she calls, causing Neteyam’s heart to drop to his stomach. With his friend and brother he walks through the crowd, his eyes immediately falling to Y/n. Her leg was bangaed up in a cloth as she held a weeping boy in her arms. Cradling him tightly against her. Tasun, Y/n’s brother stood next to her, his eyes glistening with tears as well.

“Ms. Y/n saved Ar’utey from falling from a great height! Isn't she amazing!” Neteyam overhears Tuk praising her teacher from beside him, but all he could focus on was the girl who smiles carefreely in front of him. As if she didn't have her leg busted. All she could focus on was the whimpering boy in her arms.

“Y/-n?” Neteyam whispers, stepping closer. Some of the students now take notice of the warriors around them including Neteyam. Some smile at his presence noting his worried glance.

“Karyu '' Neteyam says louder, being mindful of his friend's eyes that are trained on him the entire time. Y/n’s head snaps up, her eyes shining with happiness when her eyes land on Neteyam. Lo’ak gulped audibly at her stare, glancing around not to openly gawk at her. She had small cuts here and there including the injured leg, her hair disarray and she still looked breathtaking.

“Well, if it isn't my oldest student” Y/n teases. She holds her student tightly in her arms as she rocks him back and forth. He didn't seem to have any visible injuries but looked terribly shaken up.

“What can I do for you? You look worried?” Y/n furrows her eyes as Neteyam inhales deeply. His heart rate had been beating like crazy, the feeling of butterflies and fear mixing together.

“Maybe I could help you out? What happened? Are you ok?” He asks frantically crouching down to her level. She smiles warmly, shaking her head.

“It's nothing, I'm fine. Just a minor injury, nothing I cannot handle, mighty warrior” Y/n says teasingly, causing a small smile to break through on Neteyam’s face. He felt his shoulder relax as the commotion around them got louder. An older navi woman rushes into the center, her eyes falling on her son.

“Ar’utey!!”

Neteyam gets up, giving them space as the mother couches down to check on both Y/n and her son. Neteyam leans back, his friend whispering amongst themselves. Lo’ak lets out a breath he's been holding.

Neteyem's eyes bore into the girl a few feet away from him, his heart clenching at the sight. He couldn't seem to have found a more amazing girl. Such a kind spirit, filled with happiness. She was perfect, her love for her students, her motherly nature. It made Neteyam dream about her, fantasize about a future with her. And he couldn't think of anything else. She took up his entire mind, his entire heart.

“Woah….who is that? She is…something” Neteyam overhears one of his friends whisper.

Neteyam smiles softly to himself watching how Y/n comforts the child in her arms, she places a soft kiss on his cheek causing the little boy to giggle. It was such an endearing sight, something to treasure. Neteyam glances at his friends whose eyes are still trained on her.

“That's Y/n, she's going to be the mother of my children”

__________________________________________

A/N: I Hope you guys enjoyed!! Please comment and like, it really helps motivate me! Also, I love hearing feedback from you guys!! I'm sorry in advance, I didn't like this much. I feel like I could have done better, this cold has been really kicking my ass. I'll I hope to better in my next instalments!!

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ghost-proofbaby · 5 months ago

Note

you mentioned summer storms with Eddie or something one day in a random post and I haven't stopped thinking about it so

can I get a midsummer's night with LOTS of 🍓🍓🍓🍓 about that? Thank you very much Ghost 💞

OH I'VE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE!!!! it took on a life of it's own, forgive me.

summer storms

warnings: honestly just tooth-rottingly cheesy. tried to add alllll the fluff. not edited.

wc: 1.2k+

come enjoy a sweet summer treat with me <3

It was your favorite part of the summer. You couldn’t stand the heat half the time, you couldn’t bear all the bugs that would make their arrival known through incessant bites you’d only notice after spending the day out, and you could cry at even the simple memory of every sunburn you’ve ever endured in your lifetime. There was a lot to hate about the summertime – but this? This was one of the good parts.

The moment you’d seen the ominous clouds on the horizon, you’d known where your night was going to end up. One howl of the wind against your living room window, and you knew your plans for the night.

All roads led to the Forest Hills trailer park when the summer storms started rolling in.

In your youth, all through high school, there’d been plenty of scoldings about how the trailer park isn’t the safest place during these storms, dear. Endless lectures on how you and your solace in the form of a best friend should just spend those stormy nights at your own house, inside sturdy walls and within an infallible AC. But they didn’t get it; there was something in the way you’d experience a storm at the Munson trailer that couldn’t compare to home.

“It’s so hot,” Eddie whines from where he stretches out on his bed, all windows thrown wide open to let the dusty and humid winds slip their way in. Petrichor and discount cologne was swirling around you, wrapping its tendrils around your ankles and wrists alike as you were starfished out on the surprisingly cleaned bedroom floor of Eddie Munson.

He’d spent the day embarking on his weekly cleaning spree – you’d spent the day holed up in Melvard’s for an unbearingly long shift.

“I wish it’d just rain already,” you murmur, turning your head to catch a glimpse out the open window. The sky was a mirage of deep tones, rusted oranges laced with all the dirt being kicked up by the winds and navy blues painting the clouds that had built up to hold all the moisture adding to the smothering heat, “At least then all this misery would be worth it.”

Eddie sits up only to throw himself onto his stomach, head hanging over the edge of the mattress to smile down at you, “Wanna bet on how long it’ll take?”

“Take to what?”

“Rain, dumbass.”

“Don’t call me a dumbass, asshat. How was I supposed to know what you-”

You’re cut off by the sound of rolling thunder, coming in waves along with a particularly strong gust of wind that makes all of Eddie’s posters whip against the walls they were pinned to. It’s enough to shut you both up as the echoes of the entire trailer rattling surround you.

“Jesus,” Eddie whistles lowly, head lifting up to look outside for a few moments. When his eyes return to yours, they're full of mischief. “Fuck the bet, wanna race?”

“Eddie, start being more specific, or fuck off,” you groan just as he leaps up, hopping off his bed with unexpected speed.

All he cries out over his shoulder as lightning strikes in the sky waiting outside is, “Loser has to wash a load of Wayne’s jeans!”

That gets you up. Not because you wouldn’t do it if Wayne asked nicely, and not because you were going to let Eddie make you do so, but simply to further chastise the boy now running away from you.

The first droplets of rain begin to fall before either of you make it out of the trailer front door.

Eddie only loses due to him slipping while passing by the kitchen, socked feet gliding out from beneath him until he grabs onto the counter hastily to prevent any injury. You pass him with a wide smile, yanking the door open hard enough that if Wayne had been home, he probably would have had a few choice words to say to you.

But Wayne isn’t home. It’s just you and Eddie, the boy who makes summertime an endless brew of storms in your chest and mind alike, and the rain.

You fly down the rickety porch steps of the Munson’s trailer just as you’ve done a hundred times before, Eddie just behind you. Neither of you make a deciding comment on who won; you’d been outside first, but Eddie’s feet hit the dirt properly just as yours did when he decided to jump right over the steps you were trampling down.

It’s all wild joy and childish wonder as the two of you begin to run about and spin around beneath the droplets that have picked up into a downpour. Eddie’s hands find your wrist, and he’s throwing you about with him, making you dizzy with absolute giddiness as gravity drags you in a wide circle. Your Melvard’s polo soaks through to the bone. Eddie’s curls begin to stick to his cheeks.

Neither of you care.

A childlike exuberance, and youthful oblivion, that you only ever feel with Eddie. You don’t think you would have let anyone else drag you out into the middle of a storm with such ease. But it’s hard to say no to him when there’s so much happiness fizzing beneath your skin, and you’re pretty sure all the thundering actually belongs to your chest as you feel his fingertips press deeper into your wrists.

You’ve loved him for a while now. Always have, always will.

It happens in slow motion. You swear somewhere between the crackling of the lightning and his crinkling eyes, you can see his lips forming the words, you’re pretty.

You didn’t hear it, though. Couldn’t have over the water clogging your ears.

“What?” you call out, leaning forward with all your giggles, trying to ignore the feeling of your bare feet sinking into the mud below.

Eddie just pulls you forward, and over another gust of wind that makes you both shiver, says it once more with his whole chest, “I said you’re pretty!”

You’re not. You’re really, really not. You’re a mess. Wet hair and slick skin, bleary eyes and aching smiles. Probably closer resembling a drowning rat than anything poetic or worth yelling to the sky about.

But not to Eddie, not as he looks to the sky, and all he can do is laugh at himself.

“I’m not pretty-” you start to laugh back, shaking your head at his foolishness.

“You are,” he interrupts quickly, his hand only leaving your skin long enough to brush back his damp bangs, exposing a forehead you’d certainly thought about kissing on more than one occasion. Running his fingers through curls you’ve tried to find every excuse in the books to play with. Scrunching up his nose that you’d pictured pressed into your neck in the dead of night numerous times as the two of you slept peacefully. “You really fucking are. It’s a damn crime, half the time, too. Always taking my breath away and shit.”

You don’t know what spurred it all on. The petrichor that had lingered in the air, the feeling of the rain on his skin, the comfort of the storm and its promise of a night spent together. But his confessions are rolling out faster than the drips racing down the windows of his trailer, and he’s looking at you with big brown eyes, and all you really know is that it doesn’t matter what spurred it all on.

All that matters is he’s said it.

“Do something about it, then,” you gasp out.

You’re almost worried the storm has carried the words away, that he hasn’t heard you, until he does something.

He kisses you, and it tastes just like the rain. Your favorite part of summer.

#summertime sweetness #ghost's stories #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #originally i was thinking storms with sitting with wayne on the porch and watching eddie act a fool but this is what happened instead #wanna frolic in the rain with him real bad #eddie munson fluff

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cursedlovesstuff · 7 months ago

Text

Fixing Us. Part 2.

Nat ran her hands through her hair, letting out a heavy sigh as she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

The incessant beeping of the car grated on her nerves when she realized Y/N had unbuckled her seatbelt.

Prompting her to reach over and fasten her seatbelt once again, her eyes flickering over to Y/N, who remained silent, her thoughts a mystery.

The drive home felt interminable, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Nat opted for silence, hoping Y/N would have time to sober up before they broached the conversation awaiting them.

As they reached the parking garage, Nat parked the car and turned her attention to Y/N.

"lyubov,"Nat said, but Y/N didn't respond. Nat let out a sigh as she got out and opened the door for Y/N, who stepped out wordlessly, her gaze fixed on the ground.

They ascended the stairs, each step echoing the growing distance between them.

Inside their apartment, Y/N discarded her heels and headed upstairs, Nat trailing behind her. Nat grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge before joining Y/N in their shared bedroom. The sight of Y/N's dress strewn on the floor and the bathroom light casting a soft glow only added to Nat's unease.

"Y/N," Nat called out softly, her voice carrying a hint of concern.

A muffled "what" was Y/N's response as the sound of the shower filled the room.

Leaning against the wall, Nat waited for Y/N to come out. When she did, Nat's eyes drifted from Y/N's laced bra to the tattoos adorning Y/N's body, a new revelation that caught her off guard.

"When did you get tattoos?" Nat's voice carried a mix of curiosity and confusion.

Y/N's response was short, "When I wanted to."

The tension in the room escalated as Nat pressed further, "Were you going to tell me?"

Y/N's reply was blunt, "I guess you were either going to find out eventually or we were going to get a divorce before you saw them."

Confusion clouded Nat's features, "Why would we be getting a divorce?"

"I don't know, Nat. Why would we?" Y/N's retort was sharp, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

Nat felt her patience waning, "What's your problem tonight? So much attitude and backtalk. I asked you a simple question, can you not answer that?"

Y/N's eyes narrowed, "My problem, Nat, is that you dragged me out of the bar when I was just having fun, all because you were jealous that I was dancing with someone you work with".

"I dragged you out of the bar because you had obviously been drinking, and it was a safety concern this late at night," Nat countered, her voice firm.

"Yes, sure, it was totally about a safety concern.Where you are insinuating that I'm some sort of slut? Also a safety concern?" Y/N's tone was sharp, her frustration palpable.

"What? I never called you that," Nat replied, taken aback by Y/N's accusation.

"Oh, but you meant it by asking me if Carol was really just a friend or someone who was trying to get into my pants. It's bold of you to assume that I would sleep with Carol." Y/N's voice carried a mix of hurt and defiance.

"That's not what I meant, Y/N. I know you wouldn't cheat on me," Nat responded, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Yeah, and it's too bad that I can't say the same thing." Y/N's words cut through the air, laden with disappointment.

Nat felt a pang of guilt and confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, her voice softer now, tinged with concern.

"It means I've been here every day for the last four fucking years alone, while you go out to work, parties, and hang out with your friends. Maybe I'm tired of waiting around for you to come home and acknowledge me, to act like we're actually married," Y/N's emotions spilled out, her voice cracking with pent-up frustration.

Nat's heart sank at Y/N's revelation. "I didn't know you felt like this," she admitted, her voice filled with remorse.

"Of course you didn't. You were too busy spending time with Maria—'oh, Maria invited me out to eat,' 'I'm going to dinner with Maria.' You're obviously not getting what you want from me, so you're getting it somewhere else," Y/N's voice cracked with emotion, revealing the depth of her hurt.

Before Nat could respond, Y/N uttered words that pierced her heart, "Something better change, Nat, or you can marry Maria."

With that, Y/N stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her, leaving Nat grappling with the weight of her words and the realization of the rift that had formed between them.

After Y/N left Nat to shower, Nat found herself consumed by thoughts of where everything went wrong. She reached for her phone and sent a message to Tony, requesting some time off.As she finished texting Tony, she was surprised to see Y/N emerging from the bathroom.

"Oh, you're still here," Y/N remarked casually as she headed to the closet to grab clothes.

"I live here," Nat replied, her tone tinged with a hint of sadness.

"Yeah, I forget that sometimes," Y/N admitted as she slipped into a nightgown and grabbed a pillow and a throw from the bed.

"What are you doing?" Nat inquired, watching as Y/N prepared to leave the room.

"I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight," Y/N announced matter-of-factly.

"You can have the bed," Y/N said, gesturing to it.

Nat sighed, feeling a pang of guilt, "I don't want to sleep in it alone if you're not there, and sleeping on the couch hurts your back."

Nat took the pillow and blanket from Y/N. Y/N was taken aback by Nat's unexpected consideration. She never realized that Nat actually listened when she complained about her back hurting after their movie marathons.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Nat said softly, giving her space as she headed downstairs with her pillow and blanket.

She laid down on the couch, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing with thoughts of how to fix their fractured relationship.

Eventually, exhaustion claimed her, and she drifted off to sleep, hoping for a resolution in the morning.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x you #g!p natasha #avengers #oneshot #fixing us part 2 #angst

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hopeluna-archived · 1 year ago

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⪩⪨ thinking about girl dads <33

"So...now if you put these numbers here and the x here-"

a pause of silence stretches with a incessant tapping of the pen hitting his chin in thought, "-then x equals to...6!"

The kid sighs, "Dad, it says 0 on here"

"What?! How?", he snatches the book from his daughter's hands, looking at the "0" that was marked as a answer with conflicting emotions. When did he forget 5th grade math?

More silence stretches before he lightly throws the offending maths book down on the table, "this book is clearly shit, i'm gonna teach you my way", huffing confidently he starts looking for the next question when a hand tinier than him takes the book away.

"First, the teacher in school told us to do it this way", sending a sarcastic smile his way, the 5th grader gathers all the books, notes and pencils scattered around the table,

"Second, you're not supposed to swear infront of me....I could tell mom", the last part is added in a joyful singing manner

"Shit- no fuck! wait damn it- ", he quickly slams his hand over his mouth

"I'll just ask mom when she gets back from work", with a small bye, she starts walking away to her room with all her books stacked in her arms.

He makes a deeply offended expression, shouting out a, "What? Why do you need mom?! I can do math!", something that goes unheard by his daughter, leaving him pouting and sulking in the middle of the living room.

Night soon falls as you tiredly make your way to bed and slump under the covers. But as your eyes were just about to drop with sleep, a nudge and hushed whisper stirs you awake from the side.

"Did you help her with her math homework?"

You let out a sleepy hum, "yeah?"

"Was the third answer 6?"

"What?"

"Did x equal to 6?"

You take a moment to think through your sleep hazed mind, "it was 0", instantly a whine rises from your husband causing you to peak an eye open.

"What is it?"

"I can do maths, you know?"

You smile, holding in the urge to giggle at his antics, and rather choose to wrap an arm around his middle to pull him into you, "of course you can"

He really can't.

- Gojo Satoru, Itadori Yuuji (jjk) ; Mammon (obey me) ; Bakugou Katsuki, Kaminari Denki (bnha) ; Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson (stranger things) + a bunch of others and anyone you want!

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mymanyfandomramblings · 26 days ago

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Any headcanons for toh?

Oooooh. I have several, including an entire section dedicated to my love of the terrible Blight family dynamics. Here we go:

Luz and Gus both love Hamilton. Amity does not love Hamilton, but she tolerates it.

Amity's music taste is either 'the softest, lightest, saddest pop music' or 'heavy metal'. all happy songs on her playlist were added because she associates them with Luz or her friends, not because she listens to them.

Luz is convinced that Elvis is alive somewhere on the Boiling Isles.

All of the Hexsquad are the type to call each other in the middle of the night because an idea occurred to them. it's usually Willow who ends up being called.

Willow has tried--and failed--to understand the hype with either The Good Witch Azura or Cosmic Frontier. She however does know so much lore about both, and is so good at pretending, that her friends have yet to figure out that she doesn't care about their fandoms beyond 'you're really happy talking about it'.

Edric and Emira see Gus as their unofficial little brother

Darius makes Willow's wedding dress, when she gets married.

When Hunter and Willow get married, Gus is a combination of best man/man of honour and Luz is a combination maid of honour/best woman. Amity's just a bridesmaid, but her feelings are unhurt by this.

Hooty writes terrible RPF

Lilith likes Raine just fine but she will not let them know this.

Luz and Gus will corner Hunter at some stage and be like 'listen, we know you like Willow. If you're going to date her you have to treat her like a princess. Spare no expense, leave no stone unturned. when you ask her to Grom you must do a big romantic gesture."

Willow does not like big romantic gestures nearly as much as Luz and Gus do.

Gus helps Luz and Amity plan their big dramatic Gromposals, so that they both ask at the same time, with equally massive fanfare.

Amity is not naturally a big romantic gestures person, but Luz is, so she has adapted to a big romantic gestures person.

Eventually Gus and Luz will figure out that neither Hunter or Willow are 'big romantic gestures' people. it will take too long for them to figure this out.

Camila and Darius are appreciative of each other for raising Hunter. Beyond that, they don't actually mesh all that well. She doesn't understand his dramatics.

Darius is occasionally prone to calling Raine and Eberwolf in the middle of the night to drag them on sidequests.

Back when Lilith was head of the Emperor's Coven, Eda used to go to wherever the coven heads would meet, and she'd sit under the window with a boombox and blast the Boiling Isles equivalent of 'You May Be Right' and 'Everybody Loves Me Baby'. This stopped after Lilith left the Emperor's Coven, but a little while later, Scooter Crane resigned, Raine Whispers ascended to head of the bard coven, and Eda and her boombox returned.

When Hunter starts attending Hexside, he isn't sure what he wants to study, and with the track system being far more flexible--and him being very traumatized and not very well-socialised--Principal Bump lets him have a blank schedule and go to whichever classes whenever. This often ends up with him spending much of the day in Plants, where it's peaceful. or at least he says it's because it's peaceful.

Grimwalker physiology is pretty similar to witch and human physiology, however it has some strange and inexplicable quirks. One of these things is a complete and utter lack of a detectable heartbeat.

Eda and co. would not all have survived high school without Raine there to keep the peace, and rein in the more stupid ideas.

Also, my incessant headcanons about the Blight family:

Odalia's family used to be one of Bonesborough's richest and most eminent families, however either thanks to a bad business deal or a scandal they lost most of their fortune and repute while Odalia was a child, and by the time she started Hexside, she's been living in genteel poverty for years. This has given her high-class trappings, memories of having wealth, and a desperation to regain it.

Darius was the one to originally introduce Odalia and Alador. he eventually regretted this.

Odalia wasn't always a terrible person. She was always unscrupulous, sharp-tongued and a social climber, but she is also capable of genuine pleasantness.

Odalia and Alador once did like each other--or at the very least were attracted to each other originally. This soured over years of an unsuccessful marriage.

They got married very young. Odalia was keen to lock down the last heir to the Blight fortune as soon as possible, and Alador thought she was pretty, and a good business woman.

Everything started falling apart when the twins were born, and properly fell apart when Amity was born.

Odalia's pregnancies have never been easy on her, and she experienced bad bouts of post-partum depression after both.

Alador is most definitely autistic. and also undiagnosed. among the things he finds overstimulating are a) children and b) Odalia when she's in a bad mood.

so when Amity was born and suddenly there was a crying baby, two chaos twins, and a very irritable post-partum Odalia, Alador's response was 'spend as little time in the house as possible.'

This is about when any last love between Odalia and Alador left the marriage.

Back to general headcanons, Edric gets bad asthma attacks

Emira is like a very immature mother to her siblings. they'd be lost without her.

Amity is unambiguously the favourite child. not that this gets her preferential treatment from her parents, but it does foster resentment among her siblings.

it took the twins much too long to figure out that Mittens has other emotional needs beyond 'an ego check'.

Alador just...gives them their inheritance when they asked for it. Amity put hers into saving, Emira uses it to be the hot rich single aunty to her nieces and nephews, and Edric spent his all at once on something like a waterslide for his house.

Edric needs budgeting lessons ASAP. he's not very good at it.

Post-divorce the twins joke incessantly about the fact that their mother is in jail.

That's all I can think of right now.

#the owl house #toh headcanons #my ramblings #Luz noceda #amity blight #gus porter #willow park #hunter toh #hexsquad #edric blight #emira blight #odalia blight #alador blight #toh hooty #eda clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #darius deamonne #camila noceda

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delirious-donna · 9 months ago

Text

Expensive Taste [Extra Drabble]

Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother

an: I love added detail and I wondered what reader would get up to now she is aware of who’s bedroom she is standing in. If anyone is curious about the watch mentioned, the link to it is here for visual reference.

pairing: Nanami Kento x reader

warnings: none at all

Series Masterlist

“C’mon c’mon,” you muttered to yourself, listening to the incessant ringing in your ear. The line clicked over to voicemail. You cursed loudly, tossing your phone onto the plush bed. A bed that wasn’t yours, not even temporarily.

Your fingers tightened into the fluffy white towel fixed around your chest, a sense of guilt settling in your gut. It was ridiculous. You didn’t know you were in someone’s home. Blowing out a long breath, you spun on the spot. There were details you missed on first entering the room, and finding them now only made you feel foolish.

Set upon the right-hand nightstand was a black leather organiser with an expensive-looking watch displayed next to a retro alarm clock. You padded closer, bending to examine the timepiece without touching it and blinked rapidly as you came face to face with an Omega watch.

Shit, those were expensive.

You didn’t dare to touch the steel links, only admired the yellow-gold detail and navy blue face from a safe distance whilst telling yourself not to pick up your phone and find out just how much money these would set someone back. It wasn’t any of your business. None at all.

Dressing with little care, you hopped around the room to pull your leggings up and caught sight of yourself in the floor-length mirror. What a situation to be in. You couldn’t decide if this was the plot of some rom-com or a horror movie, at this point, it could go either way. Even knowing that your instincts told you to trust him. If he had wanted to cause you harm, then his best opportunity had blown right by.

Suppressing a smile, you remembered how mortified he had looked once the realisation had set in. The look of a man who did not have a clue what to do and that only endeared you to him despite the unsavouriness of the situation.

You fixed your hair into a loose ponytail, thankful that only the ends were wet with your untimely splashing session in the bath, and that’s when you spied the inset doorway to the left of the mirror.

Curiosity killed the cat, or so the saying goes.

Maybe it wasn’t a good quality of yours, this inability to resist temptation, but an open entryway wasn’t snooping, was it? You weren’t rifling through his drawers or looking at anything not openly on display. That was your argument, and you were sticking to it.

“Goddamn…”

For the second time this day, you spun a full 360 in what turned out to be an immaculate walk-in closet. Had you spied this earlier, there would have been no doubt in your mind that this place belonged to a man and a wealthy one at that.

The racks were neatly arranged into categories, with shirts of white, navy, black and grey hung with pristine creases highlighted in the sleeves and the cuffs and collars starched. Another housed trousers with matching jackets in the section next to them. You reached out tentatively, fingertips brushing against the thick expensive fabric. Just how much money did this guy earn?

One thing you noticed was that the area reserved for what you would consider casual attire was remarkably sparse. A few thin-knit sweaters hung with care. A pile of folded t-shirts stacked beneath and one pair of folded light blue denim jeans. Workout shorts and a few Under Armour compression shirts finished your perusal of the more than generous space.

Each item spoke of luxury, of an indulgence in the finer things in life but it did not necessarily strike you as excess. You gathered that everything in here held a purpose, be it to dress to impress at work or get the most from a workout. Nothing seemed like the kind of impulse buys that you were guilty of on the odd occasions you felt flush with money. Whether it was your place or not, it spoke to something within you, and you liked that he was indulgent where it counted.

You didn’t dare to open the drawers beneath, scared to death of what you might find—underwear mostly likely. Instead, you scurried back into the bedroom, terrified that he might return if you took too long.

It would be a lie to deny you were curious about him. He was far from old enough to be Karin’s father, a brother perhaps? You worried your bottom lip with your teeth, eyebrows pinched at the thought you might not know your friend as well as you assumed.

The man had an immaculate taste, but you very much got the impression that he was a workaholic. Even from the brief time you had spent together in the steamy bathroom, the fatigue was evident on his face. He could use a vacation most likely.

With that thought in mind, you went in search of the man in question. Several outcomes were jostling in your brain for attention, and all you hoped was that it wouldn’t end with you out on the streets with nowhere to go.

This Nanami Kento wouldn’t be so heartless, would he?

#delirious writes #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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philistiniphagottini · 1 year ago

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I'm back bitch lmao

Tbh I'm feeling either very innocent or very filthy depending on how you'll go about it soooo

63? With any chara u choose

I have spoken 😏

Hello friend :) Just so you know, it was your mistake for giving me the power to choose the character because I know your weaknesses. So I decided to go with Jing Yuan. Thanks for indulging me. Hope you enjoy~

63. thigh fucking (intercrural)

Smut Prompts

NSFW below the cut, MDNI

"Keep your legs pressed together for me" General Jing Yuan commanded, a small purr of your name falling from his rosy lips.

You hummed softly, heat prickling your bare skin and pooling in the pit of your stomach as Jing Yuan manhandled you to his pleasing. He held both your dainty ankles with a firm grip, resting them on his sturdy shoulder as your feet dangled uselessly beside his ear. You whimpered softly as you slipped an arm under the fluffy pillow supporting your head, nails digging into the fabric as he sandwiched his boiling cock between your plush thighs.

Jing Yuan’s hot breath tickled your skin as he moaned, golden eyes smouldering like embers as he watched you squirm with need beneath him. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he slid his cock against your creamy pussy, revelling in the harsh moan that spilled from your kiss swollen lips. Your blood simmered in your veins, heart pounding so loudly in your ears that you could barely hear anything over the incessant pulse. Your breathing wavered as the tip of his cock kissed your aching clit, spreading your arousal along his shaft as he continued to slowly rut against you.

General Jing Yuan didn’t think the sight of his little darling prancing around in thigh high, sheer lace stockings would stir something in him. He had, evidently, been so wrong about the amount of power a simple article of clothing would have over him. The mere sight of the lace hugging your thighs sent his mind into a tizzy. If he had any less self-control, he would have had his way with you at the Seat of Divine Foresight.

A warm chuckle blew past his lips as you mewled his name, rocking your hips against him and desperate for more sparks of friction on your wet pussy, your insides clenching around nothing as a hot coil wound tight in the pit of your stomach. Jing Yuan tilted his head, placing a featherlight kiss on your ankle as his hands sunk into your plush thighs, fingers squeezing generous amounts of skin.

"Eager?" he mused.

His fingers slipped under the lacy band of your thigh high socks, brushing against the sensitive skin and making your pulse race frantically beneath your skin. You nodded, arousal flushing your skin and turning the tips of your ears hot from the obscene, wet noise coming from between your thighs. Jing Yuan hummed with amusement, lazy eyes lidded as he let go of the elastic band of your stockings and let it snap back against your skin with a satisfying noise. You squeaked loudly, hips jolting forward as he repeated his actions. He adored the noises that stirred in your chest and he would never tire from dragging them from your bruised lips. His strong, calloused hands curled around your hips as he pulled you harder against him, the bed creaking from the sudden movement. You moaned sweetly as your core throbbed, causing your legs to tighten and squeeze the general’s thick cock until it felt like his dick was being completely smothered by your thick thighs.

A pleased purr rumbled in his chest. "Good girl. Squeeze me just like that."

Pre-cum dribbled from the tip of his cock and smeared against your hot skin, the small beads only adding to the pearls of slick that stained the insides of your thighs. A pleasant tingle raced down your back as his thumbs parted your silky lips like a delicate flower, forcing you to feel more of the sensual drag of his cock over your velvety folds. Your eyelashes fluttered over your burning cheeks, eyes threatening to slip close as you gripped onto your pillow tighter, head thrown back as stars wavered in your vision.

"General…so good…so close" you moaned between shaky breaths.

Your chest heaved with each laboured breath, tits bouncing with every punctuated jerk of Jing Yuan’s hips. You jolted beneath him with a sharp gasp when his thumb brushed against your pretty clit, giving it much needed attention as he rubbed the bundle of nerves in firm, tight circles. You cried out beneath him as the knot in your stomach tightened, back bending in a beautiful arc as your toes curled into the soles of your feet. You could feel his cock throbbing between your thighs, the thick ridges on the underside of his shaft hitting your soft spots and emptying your head of every single thought until you felt dizzy with bliss. A hand lazily crawled up your chest, cupping one of your trembling breasts and squeezing the soft flesh. You almost bit your tongue when Jing Yuan pinched a rosy tip between his fingers and tugged at the nerve.

"Is my pretty girl going to cum now?" Jing Yuan cooed, thumb pressing down on your clit until the little bud shrieked from the attention.

You nodded, a constellation of tears clinging to your lashes as you writhed under the General’s attention. "Yes" you croaked.

"Then don’t keep me waiting~"

You burst at the seams only a scant few seconds later, unable to hold onto the fraying ends of your sanity as you were intimately ripped apart at the seams. Your hot walls spasmed around nothing, the coil in your stomach shattering as your veins were flooded with white hot relief. You twisted beneath Jing Yuan, moaning his name to the heavens like it was the only word you remembered. A deep growl reverberated in his chest before you felt thick ropes of his seed splatter along your stomach and the insides of your thighs, the tip of his drooling cock pressing hard against your clit as you rode out the last dregs of your pleasure high.

It felt like your heart was in your throat as you tried to regain control of your breathing, legs shaking in Jing Yuan’s grasp as he leaned forward. He pressed your knees to your chest as he loomed over you, lips catching yours in a searing kiss. His breath was hot against your lips as his tongue plunged into your open mouth, spent cock still throbbing against your abdomen when you pressed closer to him. You delved your hands through his thick mane of hair, soft locks curling around your fingers as you tugged sharply on the strands. Jing Yuan groaned into your mouth, teeth catching on your bottom lip as you pulled apart from the kiss.

His eyes sparkled with mirth, fingers dipping beneath the band of your stockings once more and teasing the material with soft tugs. He leaned into your touch as your fingertips massaged his scalp, nails scraping against the back of his head as placed a soft kiss to his chin. His lips moved against yours when he spoke, his warm breath mingling with yours as his mouth ghosted over your skin.

"You should wear these more often" he mused, tugging at your stockings. "But next time, for my eyes only."

#my writing #request #imastrangeone98 #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan smut #female reader #x reader

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trulyumai · 8 months ago

Text

Oh, Mr. Mosses (Series) III

Synopsis: You were fine with the job, the steps were easy enough but the secret of the D.D.D was getting harder and harder to contain. Each night a new entity would enter the building, each with its own horrific look and intentions. Just as you debate on leaving, a new resident has entered the premises; Francis Mosses who is absolutely entranced by your being.

Will you be as smitten of him as he is of you? Only time will tell.

Taglist: @tfamidoingwithmylife @mariaflor873 @fandomfeind @greycloudsy (Let me know if you want to be added!)

Warnings: Blood, Violence, Death

Oh, Mr. Mosses III

He shook under her touch. She lightly padded her fingers across his chest, going lower until they were right above his trousers. “You're so cute, Francis.” She mumbled, fumbling her hands with his belt, moving his undergarments lower and lower. He puffed, ignoring the comment, he could feel his face getting warm again. Lowering his hands, they met the underside of her thighs, so plush, so very soft.

“Please- ah! Please sweetheart,” He whispered, staring up at her lovingly. And although it came out as a beg, he began moving her clothes away himself, not waiting for an answer.

“Ah, ah, ah, patience darling.” She tutted, skirting his hands back to where they once were, each on one either side of her hips.

He groaned, letting his hands reside there as the warmth in his chest got unbearable. She was gorgeous, the moonlight peaked in behind his window, falling down and mirroring her gorgeous image. She was like an old painting, sitting there staring down at him. A nymph, a goddess.

And if it wasn't for the incessant beeping, he could have came right then and there just staring up at her. Those eyes, that slender neck, her chest-

Jolting upright he cursed. So fucking close, yet so far. With a sigh he leaned his legs over to the side of his bed. Covered in sweat he grimaced, ever since his meeting with the darling receptionist he's had these dreams, visions. He'd wake up in the same state; desperate, sweaty and needy. And oh so close to release.

With his elbows on his knees he sighed once more while looking at the clock, just beside his bedside. The red numbers mocked him and read out 4:30AM.

Today was going to be a long day.

“The reports my dear, were utterly ruined I tell you! Such an incompetent assistant I have, truly.” Mr. Gauss was a loud man, too loud for the poor receptionist to handle at the moment. He spoke of his job, his reports almost every meeting they would be unfortunate to have. With a sigh she handed his papers once more, yet it went unnoticed as he rambled on about his assistant. The poor lady who had spilled coffee over his reports this morning.

“Mr. Gauss,” She shook the ID in her hands once more, in case this time he would notice. He didn't.

“I'll tell you, the job couldn't be easier I mean, you should know shouldn't you darling? It's just a simple desk job!”

“Mr Gauss!” With a firm tone she pursed her lips, finally getting the older man's attention.

“Your papers, sir.”

“Oh how silly of me, thank you sweetheart! Listen, I'm getting a call but I'll see you soon my dear!” With a wink he was off, his attention already diverting to the phone that he pulled from his gray and black suit pocket.

Groaning, she slouched back down on her chair. Easy, she wished it was as simple as he made it. With no screaming residents, bloody faces and hands being slammed in her direction. Just the other day a mimic cried to her, screaming she was a murderer. It begged to be let in. “I'll die out there, please you don't understand!” Its tone was racked with fear, it shook with plenty of emotion and if it wasn't covered in someone's blood, she might have thought to let it inside. It went out with a fight too, one of the guards bodies had to be dragged out, their yellow hazmat suit stained in maroon. Everytime she blinked she could see his body, crumpled up in the corner of the lobby, limbs hanging limply at their sides, mask torn.

It was getting late, and soon she could go home, take a nice bath, forget about the color red for a while.

“Excuse me,”

“SHIT!” She jumped, not noticing the man standing just in front of the window. Holding her chest she cried out.

“Francis, jesus christ you startled me,”

With a light frown he reached out, letting his palm splay over the clear glass. “I'm sorry, sweetheart, are you okay?” Sweetheart? That was new, she thought, calming her chest as quickly as she could.

“It's okay I was just- I zoned out it seems,” she smiled, it was light, a comfort to the man in front of her.

With a small smile of his own he grabbed his forms, sliding them through the slot per usual.

“You're early, no one wanted any milk today?” She blinked up at him, grabbing the forms while staring blatantly at the taller man. His uniform was normal, the hat laid atop his black hair and his eyes were as tired as ever.

“You could say that,” The milkman mumbled, leaning comfortably over the counter, looking down at her as she compared the forms.

She began reading his ID, slowly as practiced, mouthing each number as she went.

235569-

“Hey.” Looking up she noticed how close the man got, closer than ever before. His face was practically touching the glass.

“Hi?” She looked at him confusedly, tilting her head to the side unconsciously.

“I'm free now. For the coffee?”

That's right! The date, she had nearly forgotten after the day she had. It slipped her mind, she would have worn something cuter, more revealing than this old sweater she's had stuffed in her closet. It was cold today, lightly sprinkling with rain from time to time so she grabbed the next best thing to keep her warm, not even thinking she would see Francis today.

“Oh! Um, yeah I have some back here if you'd like?” Skipping over the numbers she started comparing them.

23556941989-

BANG.

Francis hand made contact with the glass, his pale fingers flexed as they made contact, nails digging lightly into the material.

Noticing her hesitancy he laughed. “There was a bug, didn't mean to startle you. Again.”

Where was she again? At nine? No, perhaps the eight.

“Everything looks in order,” she mumbled, slowly glancing back up at the milkman. Smiling, she slid the papers to the side, fumbling for the keys around her pocket.

“One moment and i'll open the door okay?”

Francis said nothing but nodded, flexing his hands as she made her way towards the wooden door just to his left. With a click the door was open, Francis was already on the other side by the time it unlatched. Maybe he was just eager, she thought. That would be cute, no man had been eager to see her before, so the newfound feeling was exhilarating.

Standing aside she gestured him in. My was he much taller face to face, she only came up to his shoulders, if that. He stepped in, walking just past her towards the room on the side, where the little kitchen resided.

Closing the door she followed, humming a little tune as she grabbed coffee cups just past him. “How do you like your- oof!” Turning to talk to the man she was met with his chest, when had me moved so close?

“I'll get that, sweetheart,” He mumbled lowly, his voice just barely above a whisper. So quite, so low.

“Oh, um, okay” Without thinking she passed him the mugs, not even realizing she forgot to tell him her coffee preference before walking towards the door once more, to the front desk.

“I'm gonna make sure no one needs any help, I'll be right back!”

With a hum, the man got to work on the drinks, it was only then she noticed his hands. Veiner than normal, his nails were a little longer too, had they always been so sharp?

Turning her head she padded her way to the desk, to the forms residing on her desk.

Francis form stared back at her, along with his ID. Dusting her fingers over the numbers she read again.

235569418995

Now the other one

235569418895

No, she had to be mistaken. Reading it again, and again, the paper was starting to crumple with the amount of force she exerted from her fingers.

The numbers, she noticed, the numbers, there off by one number. How did she miss it?! Biting her lip she looked back towards the kitchen. The room had gone silent, she prayed she still had time. The D.D.D had to act fast, she still could live, it couldn't be too late. Glancing back in front of her she reached out, just before her hand met with the phone she felt it.

The pressure of someone standing behind her.

A breath on her neck.

Light nails digging into the side of her hips.

“Don't spoil the mood, pretty girl,” Francis sneered.

“Our night has just begun after all.”

She couldn't help but shake, she didn't want to die, this creature whatever it was wasn't prone to showing mercy. Any kindness whatsoever.

“Your coffee will get cold,” He teased, lightly reaching his hand up, playing with the hair around her face before displaying itself on her cheeks, tightly grabbing them until her lips protruded with the pressure.

“Such a daft little thing,” He tutted.

“Cute, but oh, so daft.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she felt tears spring loose, dribbling down her cheeks until they made contact with Francis' hand.

He laughed, a deep somber one before he craned his neck down, licking the salty liquid from her face. His slimy tongue stopped just before her eye, where she finally opened it to see him smiling at her.

His teeth. Jesus Christ they were so sharp. All of them pointy and white, each one more jagged than the other.

“I'm tempted to keep you, you’d be a good little listener wouldn't you?” With a mocking tone he squeezed her cheeks harder, until little red crescents were indented on her face.

"You're so good for me, so obedient." He moaned, rubbing his other hand around her body, going lower, and lower.

“Ah-!”

“Quiet!” He seethed, glancing now to the front desk. The window. It was then she noticed, a silhouette peering over the desk. A resident waiting to be checked in.

“Please,” She begged, more tears streamed down her soft face.

“Don't hurt me.”

Looking back over his squinted eyes, his pupils were dilated and his mouth slightly open and set in a frown.

“What the fuck did I say-

“Hello?” A masculine voice rang out. Francis. With widened eyes she gripped the hand covering her mouth, felt the roughness of the hand and shook.

The other Francis heaved, with anger he gripped the receptionist's face once more. Hands bloody he slid his thumb over her lips, lightly parting it and pushing the digit forward.

The taste of iron invaded her senses, wincing she tried to pull back but was only met with resistance.

“I'll be back, sweet thing.” He promised, pulling his finger back he looked at it with wild eyes. Putting it up to his own lips before sucking them clean.

“You be a good girl, you here?” He laughed, lightly smacking her cheek before entering the back. Towards the kitchen.

Without thought she ran to the desk, meeting the eyes of Francis, the real Francis.

Noticing her wide eyes and bloody mouth he looked with concern, eyebrows leaving a frown mark on his face.

“Are you alright?”

She wanted comfort, wanted help. With a light shake to her fingers she took his ID, not bothering to compare the numbers.

The rules. If she uddered anything about the mimics, the D.D.D, she would face even more backlash than she faced now. How was she supposed to bring this up to management, let alone Francis.

Gathering her thoughts she passed the ID back through. Putting on her best face she smiled at him, though it looked more like a grimace.

“Yes, just… A long day. You're free to pass,” With a touch of a button the elevator was left open.

Francis eyed her once more.

“Mmh, okay. You can call me if you need anything. I'm just a floor away.” Grabbing his ID he shifted uncomfortably. His tongue felt heavy and the words he wanted to say seemed to get stuck on the top of his mouth. With a tired gaze and small wave, the receptionist moved out of his sight and he couldn't help but feel disappointed.

Maybe he'll ask for a coffee next time.

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