#he is a bit warmer to her than the others most of the time but thats because theyre occult nerds together | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

caramelcal · 1 year

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you'll always be my girl - t. nott

summary: theodore nott was your brother's best friend, and had been the boy of your dreams since you first lay eyes on him. everyone knew that. so it's a surprise when you suddenly get a boyfriend, and theodore is determined to show you why he's the better choice. always has been and always will be.

warnings: all characters are of age. smut, cheating. all that fun stuff. theo is reader's brother's best friend. reader pined for YEARS but it faded away when she got with her boyfriend. she's a bit of a pushover. virgin!reader. dom!theo. sub!reader. modern au. lots of swearing. arguing. praise kink. overstimulation. dirty talk.

note: this prob isn't great, i don't write smut often idk

"Mate move! Move! He's behind that wall." Theodore shouted, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he tapped the keys on his controller trying to be revived faster.

"Fuck! I can't find him," Lorenzo had replied, a similar tone to Theodore's as their eyes were both glued to the screen in front of them.

It was only the two of them at Lorenzo's tonight, something that wasn't overly uncommon for the two of them to do. Despite being close with the rest of their group, Theodore and Lorenzo spent the most time together just the two of them. Theodore practically lived at the Berkshire's house half the time nowadays, finding it much warmer than his own.

Honestly, it was more shocking if he wasn't at the Berkshires.

"Over there! Shit!" Lorenzo cursed, the loud, violent tapping of buttons ensuing at a more alarming rate from the two of them.

"Where's his-"

"Theo! Theo! The-" A red alert came over the screen, letting the two boys know that they had lost the game. They both put their controllers down, Lorenzo using the palms of his hands to rub his eyes in frustration, and Theodore throwing his head back with a groan.

"We really ought to get better at this mode, or we need to just stick to doubles," Theodore said, looking over at his friend who chuckled with a nod.

Mr and Mrs Berkshire were both out for the night, away on holiday, or business or whatever, Lorenzo didn't tell Theodore all the details. Theodore didn't particularly care anyway, it didn't make a big difference to him.

Lorenzo's parents were lovely to him, always greeting him pleasantly, always happy to see him, and telling him he was welcome at any time. They had even unofficially allocated one of the spare bedrooms in their house to Theo, who was eternally grateful for the escape it gave him.

"Enzo, I'm home!" Theo's attention was directed towards the door, where he heard someone kicking off their shoes by the door before walking towards the living room.

Y/n Berkshire. Lorenzo's younger sister. He was honestly surprised he hadn't noticed earlier that you weren't there. Even though you normally tucked yourself in the small library in the house, he had been here for hours and hadn't heard a peep from you.

Sure, you were normally quiet, but normally you at least said hello.

While growing up with Lorenzo, Y/n was never normally far behind. You had adored your brother when you were younger, and even as you both got older you remained close. Theodore on the other hand, had elicited a different sort of adoration from the younger girl. One that brought a blush to your face every time he spoke to you, or even looked in your direction.

It had been that way for years, and honestly, Theodore couldn't remember a time when you had been able to look him in the eye for longer than five seconds before getting too shy and looking away.

Footsteps echoed towards the living room, and the second you came into view, Theodore's eyebrows furrowed. Your body was covered in a silk dress, your hair styled perfectly and makeup on your face. You looked fancy, and Theodore could not imagine what you possibly could have been doing to require such an appearance.

There certainly weren't any parties on, if there had been, Lorenzo and Theodore would have been the first ones to know.

"How was your date?" Lorenzo didn't even look back at his sister as you sat down on the other couch, a sigh of relief as you sunk back into the comfortable material.

A date? The question had Theodore baffled. You had been on a date? With who? It certainly made the appearance seem more logical, you looked pretty. You had made that effort for a boy.

"It was good," You nodded your head, not looking over at your brother either as you grabbed the book that sat on the coffee table, flipping it open to the page you had dogeared earlier on that day so you could continue reading.

"You were on a date? With who?" Theodore asked.

"Oh, hi Teddy," You looked up from your book, sending a small smile to your brother's best friend, only just noticing him, "Adrian Pucey, he's in your year."

Teddy. The name you had called him since you started to talk. Everyone had called him Teddy when he was growing up, including Enzo, his parents and yours, but you were the only one that didn't grow out of it.

"It's Theo, y/n/n," Lorenzo had corrected you, as he always did, knowing how much Theodore despised the nickname now that he was older. What he'd never tell your brother though, was that he didn't mind it when you did it. It felt natural coming from your lips. He couldn't ever imagine you calling him Theo, or, god forbid, Theodore.

"Yeah, sorry," You mumbled, picking at the edge of your dress as you looked down at your lap, the book held in your other hand, a finger on the page you stopped reading on so you could keep your place now that you had straightened out the fold.

"Why are you going on a date with Adrian Pucey, he's…"

Theodore wasn't sure what to call him. Annoying? Arrogant? Not good enough for you?

"My boyfriend?"

"Your boyfriend?" Theodore echoed, his eyes almost bulging out of his head and jaw almost falling onto the floor. His tone was incredulous as if you having a boyfriend was completely out of the question.

"Well, that's new," Lorenzo murmured under his breath, not loud enough for you to hear, but loud enough for Theodore.

His tone let Theodore know that he, too, was not too happy about the arrangement. Adrian wasn't 'boyfriend material' and certainly not good enough for you. He was sleazy, and an average quidditch player at best.

"Yeah, is it so unbelievable that I could get a boyfriend?" Your tone -despite your word choice seeming a little sassy- was soft. Your eyes battered between the two boys, eyebrows furrowed as you sat forward.

Silence ensued between the three of you, your eyes still battering between the two boys, both of which didn't know what to say. It wasn't surprising that you could get a boyfriend, but your choice was certainly questionable. Frankly, they were too astonished to speak.

While Lorenzo had known you were spending more time with Adrian, he was hoping that it would fizzle away before labels got attached. He barely gave it any thought, thinking you wouldn't take a boy like Pucey so seriously. Oh, how he was wrong.

"I'm gonna head upstairs," You said quietly, sulking off the couch and quietly walking away, feeling a little ashamed that they seemed so surprised that you had managed to get your first boyfriend.

Theodore's eyes followed you, staying stuck to where you disappeared upstairs as Lorenzo broke the silence, breathing out some air, "Never expected that. Well, at least we know she's not pining over you anymore."

"Yeah, I guess."

…

It was less than a week later when Theodore was heading to quidditch practice, his bag slung over his shoulder, broom in his hand. He ruffled his hair with his free hand, breathing out some air as he prepared himself for what he could guess was going to be a pretty gruelling practice.

Granted, he could give himself some leeway, being the captain and all, but that didn't set a good example. They had a big game coming up in a few days and they needed to do well. There was little space for error, and Theo would make sure everyone was ready.

Hearing faint talking as he walked up to the locker room was odd, considering he was normally the first or second one there. He must've been running a few minutes late.

"-how you managed it, mate, I mean, between her being Berkshire's untouchable little sister and everyone thinking she liked Nott, you can understand why everyone's a bit surprised."

Theodore's hand halted its movement, not pushing the door open just yet as he listened in. They were talking about you.

"She just needed to know who the better boy was, didn't she?" He heard a muffled Pucey reply, "I certainly showed her."

The familiar feeling of anger began to bubble in Theodore's chest as he registered the words that came out of Pucey's words, and the laughter that followed them. Walking in, his hardened blue eyes immediately caught onto Pucey's, a silent warning.

Yet, all the smug cunt did in reply was smirk. That certainly didn't help the feeling of red, hot, anger that exploded in Theo's chest. Quidditch practice was going to be hell for him, Theo would make sure.

"Wait up!" An hour and a half later, the anger still hadn't faded from Theodore's system. His shoulders were uptight, his hand holding onto his broom with a deathly amount of force. It was a surprise the wood hadn't snapped yet.

Your light footsteps struggled to catch up with the thundering pace that Theodore kept. His eyes cast over to you beside him as you finally caught up, his hair still wet from his shower after quidditch practice.

"Can I talk to you?" You asked, looking at Theodore awkwardly. You never normally felt awkward around him, but from the way he was looking right now, you could tell he was mad, but that didn't mean you could let what happened slide.

"Mhm," He hummed in response, his eyes staying straight forward as he waited for you to speak.

"So Adrian was speaking to me and he said that you were going extra hard on him at practice. I understand that you and my brother aren't happy that we're dating but-"

"You came here to stick up for your little boyfriend?" Suddenly, Theodore had stopped walking, turning around so he was facing you. His eyes stared into yours, the anger in his voice rising.

He towered over you, making you crane your neck up to look at him, a drip of water from his wet hair falling onto your forehead. You cleared your throat lightly, not used to Theodore being in such a mood. Even if he was annoyed, he didn't normally talk to you like that.

"I- uh, yeah, kind of. I just don't think it's fair that you're punishing him. It was my choice to date him, he didn't make me."

"Listen, y/n/n, if Pucey had a problem with me, then he can come to talk to me, not send his girlfriend to sort out his issues like a fucking pussy," Theodore spat out Adrian's name like it was a disease on his tongue, his jaw clenching at the mere thought of you taking Pucey's side over his.

If you had any sense, you'd know to mind your own business. You had grown up with Theodore, you had known him for your whole life. Adrian had been your boyfriend for all of a few weeks and you were already choosing him over Theo? That was what wasn't fair, not a few more laps at training.

He saw the frown that made its way onto your face, and if he wasn't so angry at you and Adrian, then he would've crumbled. He knew you were sensitive, much more than most people, and the last thing he wanted to do normally was make you upset. Yet, if you wanted comfort then you could go to Adrian, especially after you tried to stick up for him.

Turning on his heels, Theodore began to walk away again, but it seemed you were a little more determined than normal.

"Come on Theo, you know it's not fair!"

That just about tips him over the edge. This was so unlike you, and it was all because of Adrian. You always went by what Lorenzo and Theodore said, but today you chose to stand up to Theo. You chose Adrian over Theodore and refused to let it go and now you were calling him Theo?

You had been reprimanded for over a year about still using the nickname, and a few weeks into having a boyfriend you suddenly dropped the name of endearment? That was enough.

"What was that?" Theodore stopped in his tracks the second the words had come out of your mouth, barely managing to get the words out between his gritted teeth. He looked over his shoulder at you, watching as you crossed your arms over your chest.

"You know it's unfair."

"You have no idea what's unfair, y/n."

"I know making Adri do double the number of laps as everyone else is unfair! I know knocking into him with double the power as everyone else is unfair, Theo! You're his captain, you need to be fair!"

"Stop that." His tone was reprimanding, like telling you off for doing something unspeakable. He didn't like this one bit, you talking back to him. It felt like something had been shifted and he wanted it all to go back to the way it was.

It was your turn to let out clipped, sarcastic words. Something you would have never dreamed of doing to him; the boy you had pined over for years. Yet, all you could see was an immature, childish boy, not the guy you had liked for as long as you could remember, "Stop what, Theodore?"

"Stop calling me that."

You knew exactly what he was getting at. You always had an inkling that he enjoyed the nickname you refused to drop, given that he, himself, never told you off for it. You also knew he didn't like change, and that the idea of him and Lorenzo not being your number-one priority anymore bugged him. He hated that you had a new boy in your life.

"What? Stop calling you your name?" You replied, raising an eyebrow at him as he clenched his jaw again, letting out a dark chuckle as he started to walk away.

"Just fuck off, y/n."

You didn't bother to follow him.

…

You and the girls were bustling about in your room, doing all sorts of things. Some were getting changed, some were doing their makeup and some, along with you, were doing their hair. It was a Halloween party that practically half of Hogwarts was going to, and luckily for you, the house was only a few minutes walk away from yours.

Lorenzo and his friends were getting ready too, but you had chosen to keep your girls in your room, completely separated from them. Frankly, it was too much tension, and drama, and you didn't want that to stomp on your excitement for the party.

"Hey, y/n, do you have any snacks? I'm starving," One of the girls piped up, stopping doing her makeup to look at you in the mirror. You nodded your head with a smile, telling her you'd be right back as you headed down to the kitchen.

There was noise coming from the tv as you walked by the living room, letting you know that some of Lorenzo's friends were probably in there, taking a mental note to avoid. You wished that he had gotten the vibe to keep his friends in his room, but your brother was clueless sometimes.

He even seemed to be clueless about the fact that you and Theodore had been ignoring one another for the last three weeks, acting as if the other didn't even exist. With your arms full of all types of snacks, you left the kitchen, making your way back up the stairs.

Your eyes are on the snacks in your hand, making sure that none of them are going to fall as you walk, only to be halted by something being in your way. You had walked into someone.

"Oh, sor-" You cut yourself off as you looked up, making eye contact with intense blue eyes staring down at you. You narrowed your eyes.

"Y/n," He had acknowledged you for the first time, but not being nearly happy about it, his mouth in a thin, straight line, and his voice apathetic.

You mirrored his tone and body language, "Theodore."

He remained looking down at you, your pretty eyes looked up at him in disdain, a constant reminder of how you guys had last interacted with one another. He was still slightly mad, more irritated than anything, about the situation, and it was clear you weren't over it either.

It was so unlike you, and he hated that. While he wanted you to stick up for yourself more regularly, he hated that it only seemed to be him that you were being resistant to. It frustrated him to no end, that your relationship after so many years had changed so much in the blink of an eye.

He missed the way you looked at him with your doe-like eyes, so hopeful and kind and soft. Now, they were narrowed, almost as if a threat for him to say something. He hated that it was like you were trying to test his patience.

His mouth opened slightly, just about to speak to you, only to not get the chance, your bedroom door opening, "Y/n, c'mon! I'm hungry!"

In an instant, your eyes are no longer looking at him, but down towards the snacks that lay in a disorganised bundle in your arms, brushing by the taller boy towards your room. You spare no attention towards him, not a word nor a glance, leaving him alone in the hallway as you continue getting ready in your room.

It doesn't feel too long after that when you are all ready, all of you bundling down the stairs ready to go to the party. You know all the boys are now in the living room, and you would have happily walked by without entertaining him, but you knew you couldn't.

"Enzo, can I have some of the money mum and dad left?" You say, coming into the room. The boys are all ready too, but you know they won't leave until the party had already started for forty-five minutes at least, too busy playing video games and not wanting to be around for the awkward start most parties have.

You adjust the wings that are on your back as you walk towards your brother, white boot heels hitting off the wooden floor, the girls falling shortly behind you.

Theodore's eyes flicker up to you casually, but when he catches sight of you his jaw almost falls off, the modest girl you are, with the shortest skirt on he's ever seen. If you turn around, he knows he's almost guaranteed to see the curve of your ass, driving his mind haywire.

You adjust your bright-coloured corset and wings once more. It's obvious that you're supposed to be a fairy, but Theodore knows you're no Tinkerbell. You're perhaps the sluttiest, most tempting fairy he's ever seen. His mind races.

Lorenzo scratched the back of his neck, "Kitchen."

You nodded your head, heading off to the kitchen as all the boys quiet down. Lorenzo looked down at his phone, as the girls all follow you out of the room, "Mate…"

"What?" Lorenzo replied as Theodore sat beside him, all the other boys engaging in small talk again.

"Are you letting your sister go wearing that? Surely you can't," Theodore's trying to keep calm, but his mind is practically begging Lorenzo to make you change. The thought of someone else seeing the curves of your naked thighs and the curve of your arse makes Theo want to die.

"Nah mate, it's not ideal, to be honest, but her mates are just…they call you all sorts and start screaming if you say anything," Lorenzo finally looked up at his best friend, and Theodore can tell that Lorenzo isn't very happy with the predicament either, "and y/n/n just doesn't listen anymore, so there's no point."

There was a point though, to Theodore anyway. He didn't care what your friends thought, or about this new attitude you had adopted since you started dating Adrian.

You're back in the living room soon enough, coming to say bye, but Theodore is quick to walk over to you, not looking very impressed. He speaks lowly, "You should go change."

"What? Why? Do I look bad?" You smooth down your skirt a little, looking up at him with your usual wide eyes, a crack in this new attitude you've been showing lately.

"No," He's quick to shut down any doubt you have about your appearance, "It's just a bit inappropriate."

"Oh, don't be a prude, Theodore," One of your friends overhears, piping up in your support.

"Go change," He paid little mind to your friends, looking down at your eyes and repeating his previous order.

"Girl, you look so hot, don't let him cramp your style," Another one of your friends joins in to support you, a hand on your shoulder as she began to steer you out, "now let's go before he has anything else to say."

The second he saw you being steered out the door and towards the party, he just knows that this night is going to be one of frustration.

His prediction was correct. Only an hour and a half later he was ready to get out of there, the strongest alcohol he could find in a glass with his hand wrapped around it. Purple strobe lights, people laughing, and loud music all seem to fade into the background as his eyes focus on you. He could tell Pucey was trying to rile him up, and it was working.

His hands have been all over your body: while dancing, while sitting down, just every second of this party, and Theodore loathed it. He hated that Pucey's dirty, sleazy hands were on your soft skin, exactly where they didn't belong.

He tried to ignore it, his eyes closing as he downed the rest of his drink, slamming it down on the table. He didn't know where any of his friends were, and honestly, didn't care. He didn't want to talk to anyone or be with anyone but you right now.

He hated that he was thinking about you like this. Lorenzo's baby sister. It was supposed to be the other way around, you were supposed to be the one obsessing over him, so why couldn't he get you out of his head? Why have you been the only thing consuming his thoughts for weeks?

"Hey there, love," A girl sat down beside Theodore, a thing he loved at parties normally. The attention was something that had him feeling smug, but he couldn't even bring himself to look at her. His eyes focused on you as he hears your giggle echo through the room as Pucey whispered something in your ear.

Nothing Pucey could say would ever be funny enough to elicit such a beautiful sound. It felt illegal that he was allowed to hear your laugh, never mind be the reason for it.

"You seem tense, Theo," The girl puts her lips slowly closer and closer to Theodore's neck, her voice quieter and slower as she teased her lips against his neck, lightly grazing it, "Let me help you."

The song that blasts through the speakers had Pucey pulling you up to dance, twirling you around in his arms until his hands thread through to hold your waist. You're facing away from Theodore, completely naive to the blue eyes that follow your every move.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, couldn't have been happier to meet Theodore's cold gaze, a smirk coming to his lips as he looked down at you, then moving away slightly, only to bring a hand down on your arse.

That has Theodore on his feet immediately, hearing the yelp that you let out as he stormed towards Pucey, ripping him away from you and getting right in his face. He was taller than Adrian, towering over him too as he gets right up in his face, "Don't fucking lay a hand on her again!"

"Theo!"

"She's my girlfriend mate, I'll do what I want." Pucey only fuelled the fire of rage that burned in Theodore's chest. You seem frozen, unsure of what to do as you try and catch the attention of either boy, wanting this nightmare to end.

"Yeah, we'll fucking see about that," Before you could even react, Theodore's fist is making contact with Adrian's nose, and Adrian stumbled back for a few steps before his legs gave way underneath him and he was on the floor.

A gasp emitted from your throat in shock and horror, looking at Adrian as he groaned, holding his nose, red staining the skin. A hand grabbed your wrist, much softer than you had expected from the same fist that had just floored your boyfriend, and dragged you away.

"Theo-"

"We're going home, y/n."

The next thing you know is that you're at the front steps of your home, wanting to say something, anything. Yet, any time you took a breath of air before speaking, Theodore was sending you a look that had you shutting your mouth straight away. Something was daring in his eyes, something a lot more threatening than normal.

His grip gave you little opportunity to wriggle free, his other hand banging open the door, his foot harshly hitting it shut behind you before you are trailing after him up the stairs. He barely gave your feet any chance to keep up with him before you were in his room.

He only let go once you were in the middle of his room, the door shut behind you both. The room is dark, and you both are heaving out a breath. You can just about see Theodore's shoulders sag a little, his voice quieter as he spoke, "I don't like what the boy is doing to you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Dressing like this," He stepped towards you, his fingertips grabbing the edge of your skirt as he continued, "acting like a slut, that's not you baby, you're normally so good."

Your stomach is filled with butterflies as he looked down at your eyes, soft for the first time in weeks, "I am good, I-"

"You think tempting me like this is good, baby? Wearing this outfit and dancing with another man's hands all over your body," Your stomach flipped at the pet name once more, your heart feeling as if it's going to race out of your chest.

Your throat feels blocked up as you watch every slight move he takes, feeling as if this moment is surreal; as if you're dreaming. His voice turned soft as he spoke again, "Where'd my good girl go?"

His hand caressed the side of your face softly, the pad of his thumb swiping over your soft skin and guiding your somewhat messy hair away from your face so he can see you more clearly. You had dreamed of this moment for so long, hoping that one day Theodore would reciprocate your feelings.

The feeling of his hands on you was so euphoric that no amount of dreaming could have ever made you feel like this. This was real.

"I-" You couldn't speak, your brain feeling as if it was going to overload.

You knew this was wrong. Theodore was your brother's best friend, you had grown up with him. He was off limits. You had a boyfriend. So why couldn't you find it in yourself to pull away from his grasp?

You felt as if you were getting pulled closer to his body. The temptation is so bad that no amount of self-control could save you now. You were a goner, you had always been when it came to Theodore.

Since you had been young, you knew that you would do anything for him. Anything so that he could give you this sort of attention, and make you feel like a princess. Your rational thoughts and morals should be pulling you away, but your heart aches for him, it always has.

"You gonna show me how much of a good girl you can be, angel?" He asked, almost as if he was trying to aid you in finding your words. You could only nod your head.

Suddenly, the familiar scent of cologne and cigarette smoke overtook your senses, his lips crashing against yours in a soft, but desperate kiss. His hands reached around you to pick you up, your hands going into his soft hair, grabbing onto the strands with your fingers as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Swiping his tongue across your lips, you opened your mouth, letting him deepen the kiss as he took steps towards the bed, lowering you down onto the bed. His lips are still connected to you, and you can feel your lungs begging for oxygen, but you don't want to pull away.

Theodore does first, his blue eyes meeting yours as you slowly manage to open your eyes, your lips parted as you breathe in, trying to fill your lungs with the oxygen they had been deprived of. You follow his eyes as he slowly kisses down your neck, then down the valley of your breasts, his hands pulling down the corset, and you're quick to aid him in pulling it off.

The feeling of his lips grazing over your stomach has you hitching in a breath, watching as his head slowly lowers down your body. Then, his head is nestled between your thighs, kissing the soft skin that isn't hidden by your skirt. The hair on his head tickles them, the skin so sensitive, so unused to being given this much attention feeling so good.

With a racing heart, you watch as Theodore pulled up slightly, wanting desperately for him to touch you where you needed him the most. You ached, a feeling in you that you had never experienced before. You knew that Theodore often evoked feelings in you that you never experienced with anyone else, but this was new.

"You sure about this, baby?" You nodded your head in immediate response, but that didn't please Theo. With a light swat to the inside of your thighs, he looked at your eyes with a slightly more serious expression, "Use your words."

"Yes," The word spilt from your lips breathily, "Please."

Theodore, with a satisfied smile, came up to your face, leaning over you and softly attaching your lips to his. It feels just as surreal as the first time, and it makes your heart race just the same.

With his mouth still attached to yours, you feel his fingers brush against the fabric of your panties, just over your clit, making you hitch a breath. His fingers move the light fabric to the side, his fingers teasing against your hole.

"So wet for me, baby," The praise isn't taken lightly by you, soaking up every inch of approval he gives you.

Slowly, he adds a second finger, his thumb pressing down on your clit as his fingers curl into you, making you let out a breathy moan into the kiss that he eagerly swallows.

Your back arches off of the mattress, and as good as it feels you need more. You need him, "Theo…"

The blue of his eyes meets your gaze as you whine. You can't help it, you're desperate for more, to feel him inside of you. To take care of you and this pressure you can feel building in your stomach.

You mumble something out, a feeble attempt at getting him to speed up the process without verbally admitting that you're desperate for him. He doesn't take the hint though, not that you ever expected him to. He was torturous, tempting you and teetering towards what you wanted, but keeping you on the edge.

"Please."

It's a whisper as you let out another moan, your fist clenching his hair in your hand, grabbing onto any part of him that you can keep from pulling away.

A ghost of a smirk came across his mouth as he raised an eyebrow, "Please what, baby?"

You could tell from the familiar look in his eyes that he knew exactly what you wanted, his fingers curling up once more as they stretched lightly, stretching you out. Your eyes screwed shut as you felt slight tears pricking at your eyes. It just felt so good.

"Please," A broken whisper escaped your lips once more as you let out another moan, his thumb roughly coming down on your clit as you tried to bring your hips up, feeling a knot form in your stomach. It was so unfamiliar and had you heaving for a breath as you grabbed fistfuls of Theo's sheets.

With a final thrust of his fingers and a pinch against your clit, you came undone with a strangled moan. Your face was tilted back, mouth open and eyes closed, your hips bucking up to chase your high. You looked unreal, and Theo couldn't get enough.

When he removed his hands from you, he was coated in your bliss, your eyes softly opening, half-lidded, looking as Theodore brought his fingers up to his lips, his tongue transferring the taste of you, sweet and blissful, into his mouth. Your cheeks were tainted red when you realised what he had done, shifting about on the mattress and casting your eyes down.

Yet, you don't get much of a chance when a strong hand reaches for under your jaw, pulling him back up to meet his eyes, "Don't go all shy on me now, angel."

He could see the slight fuzz in your eyes as you stare at him, and he loved it. He liked how, simply with his fingers, he already had you dazed. His hands were soon pulling down his trousers with ease, and lifting his shirt off with one hand, leaving him in only his boxers.

You could see the outline of his bulge, and it had you gulping. You didn't know how the hell you were going to be able to fit that. He was so much bigger than you had imagined, or expected.

"Don't worry baby, we'll take it slow," He was quick to reassure you, a smug smile on his lips as he brings his mouth down to your collarbone, lightly nipping the skin as he sucked. It was definitely going to leave a mark, but that's what he wanted. He wanted Pucey to see it the next time he saw you, trying to assert some dominance on the situation.

Once he pulled his boxers down, he was soon lining up his tip with your entrance, lightly brushing it against your walls. He couldn't help himself when he asked, "Has Adrian ever-"

He began, but you were quick to shake your head vigorously, giving him a sense of satisfaction. He watched as your eyes screwed shut, soft breaths falling from your lips as he asked, much softer, "Is this your first baby?"

Unwilling to admit it out loud, you hesitantly nod your head, confirming Theodore's suspicions. He only just managed to conceal his grunt of satisfaction at being the first one to see you this way. To be the one to ruin you.

"Don't worry," His head is just beside your ear, a hand coming to gently brush the hair away from your face so not a single change or twitch in your face could go unrecognised by him. He wanted to see everything, every reaction you had as he ruined you, as he made your face twist in a type of pleasure that was entirely unfamiliar to you.

Slowly, he began to push into your tight entrance, the feeling of your walls squeezing him making him want to release already, grunting. He can hear your breathy moans of pain and pleasure as he struggled to go slowly, watching as he disappeared inch by inch inside of you.

All he wanted to do was slam into you, to hear as you screamed in pleasure, but he controlled himself, gripping the sheets with his hands to remain his discipline. You feel tiny in comparison to him.

When he finally bottomed out inside of you, you let out a strangled breath, not used to this feeling of being penetrated like this.

"You feel like heaven, sweetheart," The praise fell from his lips as he grunted once more, one of his hands coming to hold the side of your neck.

"'m so full," You partially cried out, tears leaking from your eyes at the unfamiliar feeling. It felt so good, overwhelmingly so, that you couldn't help the water that leaked out of your eyes.

His mouth came to softly kiss the tears away, your hands coming up to wrap around his back to hold him close to you. You wanted him as close as humanely possible as you slowly became accustomed to the feeling of him inside you.

"You're doing so well, baby," The praise is murmured against your cheek, his eyes closed in pleasure, "Let me know when I can move."

It isn't long before you're giving him the green light and he rocks his hips back and then forward, going slower to start with and soaking up your moans and whimpers with his mouth. His thumb pressed against your clit as he began to go faster, making your moans get louder and you become more desperate.

His hips snapped against yours and you sob into his lips, your nails scratching down his back. His hands are everywhere, exploring every inch of your body and worshipping it all. He knew he could sit and caress each part of your skin and never get bored, feeling intoxicated by the softness of it.

You were like a drug, something he shouldn't touch, something that was supposed to be off-limits, but far too tempting to leave alone. He knew that from now on, he'd never be able to let go of you, never be able to keep his hands to himself.

Your moans were melodic to him, something that he could never get over hearing. He had never had sex like this with anyone before, always quick fucks to satisfy his needs, but this was different. He felt like the barrier was broken, that you guys were connecting on a different level. Something you could never go back from. He would never let you.

The look of your parted lips, mascara running down your cheeks with your tears and your hair messy was a sight that no man but him deserved to see. He could tell you were getting close, he was too, your walls clenching around him as your moans got higher in pitch and louder.

The tears roll down harder, pouring out of your eyes as you barely manage to get your words out, "Teddy- please."

The return of the nickname has him going harder, abusing your g-spot as he hit off it time and time again, igniting a flame in his stomach as he leaned down and pressed a kiss against your forehead.

"There she is," He whispered to you, his lips still against your forehead, "There's my good girl."

You came not long after that, walls convulsing as you came around his cock, moans loud as he found himself not far behind, quickly pulling out as he came over your skirt and bare chest, both of you panting and moaning, lost in the sound and feeling of one another.

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x berkshire!reader #theodore nott x virgin!reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #bfb!theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott x berkshire!reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott x virgin!reader #theo nott x sub!reader #dom!theo nott x sub!reader #dom!theodore nott x sub!reader #theodore nott x sub!reader #theo nott x crybaby!reader #theodore nott x crybaby!reader

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novaursa · 2 months

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Skyfall

- Summary: Baela and you chase after Cole and his men. You fall from the sky straight into Gwayne's arms. Literally.

- Paring: targ!reader/Gwayne Hightower

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N and is Rhaenyra's younger sister. The reader is also bonded with Silverwing. For more parts, and if you want to read this in chronological order check my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 2 997

- Tag(s): @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @sachaa-ff

The woods blur past as you cling to Silverwing's saddle, the thrill of the chase coursing through your veins. Baela and Moondancer had led the initial pursuit, their swift movements through the sky like arrows seeking their target. But now, it’s you and Silverwing against the fading light, and the dense canopy below.

"Go on, Baela! I’ll take it from here!" you shout, your voice mingling with the rush of wind.

Baela gives you a quick, sharp nod before veering off, her focus shifting elsewhere. You and Silverwing dive, the leaves slapping at you like an annoyed housemaid.

"Alright, girl," you murmur to Silverwing, "let's show them what we’ve got."

Your dragon roars in agreement, her silvery scales glinting in the dying sunlight as you plummet into the forest. The branches are closer now, snapping past you, some grazing your armor, others too thick to avoid.

You laugh, the exhilaration of danger making your heart race. "Just a bit further!"

But Silverwing, despite her grace, is a creature of the sky, not the woods. A particularly thick branch catches you off guard, striking your side. You gasp, losing your grip. Silverwing tries to stabilize, but it’s too late.

"Y/N!" you hear someone shout, but the world spins as you tumble through the air, your body crashing through the foliage.

The ground rushes up to meet you, but instead of the hard earth, you find yourself landing against something softer and warmer. There’s a grunt, a thud, and then silence.

You blink, trying to regain your senses. Your eyes meet a pair of very familiar ones, wide with shock and framed by a mess of light auburn hair.

"Ser Gwayne?" you manage to say, your voice breathless. The realization hits you both at the same time – you’ve landed right in his arms, sending him off his horse. He’s on his back, staring up at you with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"Princess Y/N," he says, a slow grin spreading across his face despite the circumstances. "This is a rather unconventional way to reunite."

You quickly scramble off him, cheeks flushing. "I didn’t plan it this way, trust me."

Gwayne gets to his feet, offering you a hand. "I’d say you’re getting better at making dramatic entrances."

Before you can retort, the surrounding knights, led by Criston Cole, converge on you, their expressions a mix of shock and suspicion.

"Well, well," Criston says, eyeing you warily, "looks like we’ve caught ourselves a dragon princess."

You roll your eyes, dusting off your clothes. "Congratulations. Do I get a prize for being the most unexpected guest?"

Gwayne stifles a laugh, earning a sharp glance from Criston. "Secure her," Criston commands. "We can’t risk her getting away."

Gwayne steps closer, his eyes softening slightly. "I’ll take care of it."

You meet his gaze, something unspoken passing between you. He had been your suitor once, and now here you are, on opposite sides of a conflict neither of you had asked for.

"Try not to tie the ropes too tight, will you?" you quip, trying to lighten the mood. "I bruise easily."

He smirks, giving you a look that says he remembers more than he lets on. "I’ll do my best, Princess."

As the knights surround you, Silverwing roars above, finally breaking free from the canopy and circling protectively. The men look up nervously, but you know Silverwing won’t attack without your command.

"Easy, girl," you call up to her. "I’m fine."

Gwayne’s touch is gentle as he secures your hands, his fingers brushing against your skin longer than necessary. "We’ll keep you safe," he murmurs, so only you can hear. "I promise."

You nod, a mixture of gratitude and sadness filling your heart. "I know."

And so, surrounded by enemies and yet strangely comforted by an old friend, you find yourself a captive – but one who is far from defeated.

The knights form a loose circle around you as they lead you through the woods, heading in the direction of Duskendale. Silverwing continues to circle overhead, her shadow passing over the treetops, a constant reminder of the power you still wield, even as a captive.

"Call off your dragon, Princess," Criston Cole demands, his tone clipped with irritation. "We don’t need her burning the forest down around us."

You meet his gaze with a steady one of your own. "That’s not how it works, Ser Criston. Silverwing follows her own instincts. I can’t just call her off like a hunting hound."

Criston grunts, clearly dissatisfied with your answer, but he says nothing more, focusing on leading the group forward.

Gwayne stays close to your side, his presence a strange mix of comforting and disconcerting. You glance at him, catching the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Unfortunate, isn’t it?" he says after a moment, his voice low enough for only you to hear. "Your late father never approved of our match."

You give a dry laugh, shaking your head. "Probably for the better. I don’t fancy being locked up in a tower all my life."

Gwayne’s smile widens, genuine amusement in his eyes. "You think I’d lock you up in a tower? You clearly have no idea what kind of husband I would have been."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. "Oh? And what kind of husband would you have been, Ser Gwayne?"

"The kind who knows better than to try to change a dragon," he replies, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Besides, I value my life too much to cage something as fierce as you."

You chuckle softly, but the humor is short-lived as reality sinks in. "And yet, here we are. I’m chained, a captive to be killed or used as leverage against my sister."

Gwayne’s expression sobers, his eyes reflecting a mix of regret and resolve. "I wish it were different, Y/N. But these are the times we live in."

You sigh, looking up at Silverwing still soaring above. "Do you ever wonder, Gwayne, what might have been? If things had gone differently?"

He nods slowly, his gaze distant for a moment. "Every day. But wishing for the past won’t change the present. We can only deal with what’s in front of us."

"And what’s in front of us is a forest full of angry knights and a war that doesn’t seem to have an end," you say, a touch of bitterness in your voice.

Gwayne gives a soft laugh, the sound almost comforting. "At least you still have your sense of humor. It’s one of the things I’ve always admired about you."

You glance at him, surprised by his honesty. "And here I thought you only admired my dragon."

He smirks, shaking his head. "Silverwing is impressive, yes. But she’s nothing compared to you."

The compliment catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. The knights continue to lead you through the forest, their voices a distant hum as you walk beside Gwayne, the man who once might have been your husband.

The journey to Duskendale stretches ahead, uncertain and fraught with danger. But for now, at least, you have an ally by your side, even if he is also your captor. And in these uncertain times, that might be the closest thing to hope you have.

The sky darkens as Criston Cole’s men set up camp, the forest growing quieter as the night settles in. You’re confined to a tent, albeit a comfortable one, considering your status as a prisoner. The air inside is warm, lit by a single lantern casting flickering shadows on the canvas walls.

You sit on a makeshift bed, your thoughts drifting between your current predicament and the distant roar of Silverwing, a constant reminder of your connection to the skies above. The flap of the tent rustles, and Gwayne steps inside, his expression unreadable.

"Comfortable?" he asks, his tone casual but his eyes searching.

You give him a wry smile. "As comfortable as one can be in captivity."

He chuckles softly, stepping closer. "Could be worse. Criston wanted to keep you in chains outside, but I insisted on more... humane accommodations."

You raise an eyebrow. "And why is that, Ser Gwayne? Still holding a soft spot for me?"

He sits down beside you, his proximity sending a shiver down your spine. "Maybe I am. Or maybe I just know how to keep a dragon content without a fight."

You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth lift in a reluctant smile. "Still think you can tame me?"

Gwayne’s gaze locks onto yours, intense and unwavering. "I never wanted to tame you, Y/N. I wanted to be beside you, as equals."

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, the tension between you softens. You reach out, your fingers brushing against his. "And yet here we are, on opposite sides of a war."

"War or no war, some things don’t change," he murmurs, his hand wrapping around yours.

The air between you shifts, charged with unspoken words and lingering desires. Before you can second-guess yourself, you lean in, capturing his lips with yours. The kiss is urgent, fueled by the months of separation and the fear of an uncertain future.

Gwayne responds with equal fervor, his hands moving to release the binds on your wrists. As the ropes fall away, you bring your hands up to his chest, pulling him closer. His fingers fumble with the laces of your dragon riding attire, and you do the same with his armor, the urgency of your movements reflecting the intensity of your emotions.

"I missed this," he breathes against your lips, his hands sliding over your skin. "I missed you."

You shiver at his words, your own hands trembling as you help him undress. "I missed you too, Gwayne."

Clothing discarded, you pull him down onto the bed, your bodies pressed together in a desperate embrace. The warmth of his skin against yours is intoxicating, each touch sending sparks of desire through you.

Gwayne moves with practiced urgency, his hands guiding your hips as he enters you. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of relief and need that leaves you gasping. "Y/N," he groans, his forehead resting against yours. "I need you."

You wrap your legs around him, urging him deeper. "Then take me," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

Your movements become frantic, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. The world outside the tent fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other. Your breath mingles with his, your bodies moving in perfect sync.

As you reach your peak, Silverwing's roar echoes above, a wild and powerful sound that mirrors the intensity of your release. You cling to Gwayne, your nails digging into his back as you ride out the waves of pleasure together.

For a moment, time stands still, the only sound your ragged breathing and the distant rumble of your dragon. Gwayne collapses beside you, his arms still wrapped around you, holding you close.

"I love you," he murmurs against your hair, his voice raw with emotion. "No matter what happens, remember that."

You press a kiss to his chest, your own heart aching with the weight of your situation. "I love you too, Gwayne."

In the quiet aftermath, you find solace in each other's arms, knowing that whatever the future holds, this moment is yours and yours alone.

The next day dawns gray and heavy with tension. Criston Cole is restless, urging his men to pack up and prepare for the march to Duskendale. You watch from the confines of your tent, the memory of the previous night with Gwayne still fresh in your mind, a bittersweet ache in your chest.

Silverwing circles above, her presence a constant reminder of your strength and the bond you share. Gwayne catches your eye from across the camp, and you see a flicker of resolve in his gaze. He looks up at Silverwing and then back at you, subtly nodding—a signal.

Your heart races as you understand his unspoken message. It’s now or never.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. As Criston and his men begin to move, you seize the moment. "Now," you whisper to yourself, breaking into a run.

Chaos erupts around you as Gwayne shouts, "Stop her!" But instead of joining the chase, he tackles Criston Cole to the ground, his body crashing into the other knight with surprising force.

Criston snarls, struggling under Gwayne's weight. "Hightower! What are you doing?"

"Giving her a fighting chance," Gwayne growls, pinning Criston down. "Get out of here, Y/N!"

The soldiers around you hesitate, torn between their orders and the unexpected fight unfolding between their leaders. Their momentary confusion is all the opportunity you need. You sprint towards the edge of the camp, your eyes fixed on Silverwing above.

"Come on, girl!" you shout, waving your arms. Silverwing roars in response, descending swiftly and landing with a thunderous impact.

You reach her just as the soldiers begin to recover from their shock. Hands grab at you, but you twist away, your foot finding purchase on Silverwing’s saddle. With practiced ease, you haul yourself up, securing the straps around your legs.

Silverwing launches into the air, her powerful wings beating the ground, sending dust and leaves swirling. Below, Gwayne glances up, meeting your eyes one last time. In that fleeting moment, a promise passes between you—a promise of love, loyalty, and hope for a future that might still be yours.

"Go!" Gwayne shouts, struggling to his feet as Criston shoves him off. "Fly, Y/N!"

You nod, your throat tight with emotion. "Thank you, Gwayne."

With a final roar, Silverwing rises above the treetops, carrying you away from the camp and towards freedom. The wind whips through your hair as you steer her towards Dragonstone, the ache in your chest both a reminder of your captivity and the bond that now holds you and Gwayne together, despite the distance and the war.

As you fly, you cast one last look back, seeing Gwayne standing tall amidst the chaos, his eyes following you until you disappear into the horizon. It’s a silent vow that this isn’t the end—that you will find each other again.

For now, you focus on the path ahead, the promise of Dragonstone and the fight for your family fueling your determination. Silverwing’s powerful wings carry you onwards, each beat a testament to your resilience and the unbreakable devotion that ties you to those you love.

As Silverwing's silhouette fades into the distance, Gwayne braces himself for the inevitable confrontation. Criston Cole stands, brushing off the dirt from his armor, his eyes blazing with fury. The camp buzzes with confusion and tension, soldiers whispering and exchanging uneasy glances.

Cole's voice cuts through the murmurs like a knife. "What in the seven hells were you thinking, Hightower?"

Gwayne straightens, meeting Criston's glare with unwavering resolve. "I did what I thought was right."

Criston's nostrils flare, and he steps closer, his voice low and dangerous. "You let a valuable prisoner escape. Rhaenyra’s sister, no less. Do you have any idea what this means for us?"

"I do," Gwayne replies calmly. "But I also know what it means to treat people with honor. She wasn’t some bargaining chip to be used at will."

Cole’s eyes narrow, and he steps forward, closing the distance between them until they are almost nose to nose. "Honor? This is war, Gwayne. Honor gets you killed."

"Maybe," Gwayne retorts, his voice steady. "But it also makes you worth remembering. Y/N is no ordinary prisoner. She’s a dragon rider, a princess. Treating her like a common captive would only fuel more hatred and violence."

Criston shakes his head, incredulous. "You’re a fool if you think she’ll spare us any mercy. The moment she’s back with Rhaenyra, she’ll come for our heads."

Gwayne squares his shoulders, refusing to back down. "Perhaps. But at least I can live with myself knowing I didn’t betray everything we once stood for. We were knights of honor once, Criston. Have you forgotten that?"

Criston’s face contorts with rage, and for a moment, Gwayne thinks he might draw his sword. Instead, Criston takes a deep breath, visibly struggling to control his temper. "You’ve jeopardized our mission, and for what? Sentiment?"

Gwayne holds his ground, his voice unwavering. "For what’s right. You may not understand now, but one day, you might."

Criston’s eyes flash with a mix of anger and something else—perhaps a flicker of respect and understanding. "This isn't over, Gwayne. Not by a long shot. You’ll answer for this."

"I already have," Gwayne says quietly. "And I’m prepared to face the consequences."

Criston turns away, signaling for the camp to resume its activities. "Get ready to move out!" he barks to the soldiers. "We’ve wasted enough time here."

As the camp stirs back into motion, Gwayne watches, his mind replaying the look in Y/N’s eyes as she flew to freedom. Despite the threat of retribution hanging over him, he feels a strange sense of peace. He has made his choice, and he would make it again a hundred times over.

One of the soldiers approaches, hesitant. "Ser Gwayne, what should we do now?"

Gwayne sighs, feeling the weight of his decision settling on his shoulders. "We follow orders," he says, his voice firm. "We march to Duskendale and prepare for what comes next."

As the camp prepares to move, Gwayne allows himself a moment of reflection. He finds strength in the memory of Y/N’s freedom and the promise they silently shared.

Whatever the future holds, he will face it with the knowledge that he did what was right—not just for himself, but for the woman he loves and the honor he still believes in.

#house of the dragon #game of thrones #gwayne hightower #gwayne x reader #gwayne x you #gwayne x y/n #criston cole #silverwing #rhaenyra targaryen #house targaryen #house hightower

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bruh-myguy-what · 5 months

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Uncommon Reaction

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader (our lovely medic line) Warnings: female insults, gross man being a jerk to reader, violence, cursing, Mando'a cursing, fluff, not proof read I just needed to get it out as my mourning, nothing else I don't think Word Count: 4.5k Summary: Needing something from town, you're stuck with going with Tech, as everyone else is busy. You're not used to his response when a man decides to be rude to you.

Requests are open if you have anything you'd like to send in!

______________________________

"Echo," your mirthful voice reverberated around the walls of the Maruader as you laughed, "please?"

Laughing at your shameful display as you childishly hung off of the man's shoulder, playfully pouting at him with eyes as wide as a loth kitten. He chided you with an amusingly stern use of your name, dragging you alongside him as he walked down the gangplank, "I've already told you that I can't go with you into town. I'd love to but I have to help Hunter gather the rations and make sure we have enough for the next trip."

Whining dramatically, you pull at his hand, "I can wait! Really! I'll even help count so it'll go quicker!" Though you tried your most convincing grin, hoping your innocent tone would win him over as it had multiple times before, the Arc trooper shook his head.

"Sorry, sarad, no can do." His simple decline made you groan in frustration and drop his hand indignantly but he continued, "It's already getting late, anyway, the sun'll be gone before we even finish counting. Why don't you see if Tech will go with you?"

At the mention of the clever clone, your cheeks immediately warmed and you pulled away from Echo a bit in fear he might catch your sudden change. "I-I'm sure he's busy...he's always busy with some kinda tinkering." Your mumbled response was met with a raised brow from the cybernetic clone before you, his trained eye-catching the evergrowing red color staining your cheeks. Though the planet had a warmer temperature than some others the Batch had stopped on recently, Echo knew this couldn't have affected you so suddenly. You noticed his scrutinizing squint and quickly tried to move the subject elsewhere, "Maybe Wrecker or Cross could go with-"

With another shake of his head, a knowing grin starting to grow over his pale lips, arms crossing over his armored chest, Echo interrupted you, "Busy with rearranging the cargo hold so Tech doesn't get rid of their explosives again." Then he smirked at your obvious dilemma, "Besides, I'm sure that if you ask him, Tech'll set whatever he's doing aside. He seems to like you more than any of the rest of us."

Stammering at Echo's teasing, you fumbled with a response. He couldn't be serious, right? Tech was nice, of course, he was just as nice as any of the others- just in his own way.

The way that sent butterflies screaming into your stomach...

The way that made your hands tremble sometimes when he forgot about the social decency of personal space...

Tech was nice in the way that you adored and couldn't get enough of even when you'd been around him for hours upon hours, even when his brothers wanted to strangle him.

"Uh, w-well, I don't-" You started as Echo tapped his chin with his scomp-link, in thought when footsteps from the gangplank sounded.

Walking down a step at a time, Tech emerged, face ever plastered to his datapad. A miniscule glance was sent from Echo to you then back to the device in his hands. "I heard whining from the pilot's seat," he began, his precise tone sounding uninvested as it typically did when he was observing a situation unbiasedly.

Echo grinned over at Tech, "Just the clone we were looking for," he praised with a welcoming wave of his scomp. "Our dear medic here is in dire need of heading into town and no one has any time to go with her."

As soon as Echo mentioned you needing to go into town, Tech put away his datapad, eyes meeting yours. "It would seem I am currently unimpeded by any projects that require my immediate attention, for the time being, that is." He stepped further down the gangplank, standing in the unoccupied space before you and Echo. "An appropriate solution would be that I accompany you into the nearby town."

Echo slowly turned his head to meet your red face, smirking proudly at you, "It would be, wouldn't it?" He chuckled at your incredulous expression, then looked back at the taller clone. "Then make it quick the two of you, it's going to be getting dark soon and I'm sure the town isn't the best place to be, even for us." He rested his hand on Tech's shoulder, walking back up the gangplank to head inside the ship, momentarily turning around to salute you with a wink.

You stood there for a second in disbelief, trying to understand how the situation left you with just Tech....alone.

"I cannot believe him." You muttered to yourself under your breath, shaking your head.

"He is correct, actually" Tech interjected into your thoughts, causing you to start a bit, forgetting his proximity. Looking up to see him fixing his goggles on his face more comfortably, you noticed the way his brown eyes caught the sun, as light snuck behind the frames to speckle the golden hues decorating them. "The town we are heading to is known for its rather," he searched around the area for the appropriate word, "sordid, is perhaps the best term I can use for it. We would be safer grabbing what it is you need quickly, then returning at a proper pace." His explanation continued but you began to get lost in your own thoughts, admiring the man before you. It seemed to happen, sometimes, that you would find yourself marveling at how someone who was supposed to be a clone- "defective" or otherwise- was so uniquely designed. However, no matter how smart Tech was, he was so clueless of his beauty (unlike Hunter who was exhaustively aware of his looks). The way his freckles brushed over the thin bridge of his nose to paint his tanned cheeks. The way his honeyed eyes were just a few shades brighter than his brothers, the way the light lingered in them even after all was dark. He was oblivious to how handsome he looked when he raised that one eyebrow in challenge, or when one of his brothers said something entirely incorrect. He was just as strong, just as well adept in battle, as any of his brothers (other than Wrecker), but he had the added allure of his intelligence that made you fall that much quicker. Tech's straightforward behavior, the endearing seriousness, his misconception of certain social cues, and the way his heart was still as open as any of the others- more so, you could argue- just made cherishing him so much easier.

A gentle call of your name caught you off-guard and you shook your head to refocus. "Hmm? Yes?"

Tech's face had grown adorably perplexed as he searched yours inquisitively. "I had asked if you were ready to leave, though I was met with only your vacant expression. Are you alright?"

A burning crept up your neck as you blinked dumbly at the clone trooper, "Y-yep! I'm perfectly fine!" You winced at the crack in your voice, hoping that if he asked any further questions you could blame some of it on the slightly elevated temperature of the planet.

Tech seemed gracious, or oblivious, enough to move on from the situation and nodded at your reply. "Then I suppose we should leave," he gestured for you to go ahead of him, "after you, mesh'la."

Once in town, you had noticed quickly what Tech had meant about the town being a little less desirable. The people seemed to even shy away from one another from time to time, going about their own business and then skittering away.

Tech kept a close pace behind you, placing himself directly behind your shoulder, his impressive height becoming even more pronounced. People seemed content to avoid the two of you and you hadn't noticed any issues with the trip so far until you felt Tech press himself further into your back, the smooth front of his chest piece cramming into your shoulder blade. "Tech?"

You glanced up as you continued forward, noting how his eyes narrowed behind his goggles, analyzing something further into the crowd. If you hadn't been in what seemed like a rather precarious situation- based on his current manner- you would find his closeness thrilling and unusual, but by his squared shoulders, you knew he was locked onto something questionable. "Apologies for my proximity." He spoke in a low, curt tone, eyes never meeting yours.

"Is...everything alright?" You questioned, trying to look around the crowd of people to see whatever was bothering the trooper.

Tech hummed in response, the rumble of his chest shaking through his armor and into your shoulder. "Our safety is secured for the present moment. Though it would be wise for my presence to be as near to you as comfortably possible for the duration of our outing."

You hadn't been out by yourself very many times with just Tech, possibly a time a two, but any time you had been it was always causal and friendly places. You'd seen Echo, Wrecker, or Hunter get protective in the face of social danger when you'd gone out with them before and it seemed like an evident connection to make that Tech (or even Crosshair) would've as well even though it hadn't been something you'd actually thought about before. However, now, you couldn't stop the way your heart ached at Tech's rapid transition from relaxed to defensive, the strong line of his jaw the first thing you caught sight of whenever you glanced up to make sure he was still on the lookout.

"Alright," you rushed out, "I'll be quick then. Sorry for the hassle, I didn't expect there to be an actual problem." Any more guilt you had been about to express died when you felt a large hand on the other shoulder blade, the warmth spreading through your entire body.

"Your apology is unwarranted. You required something, it is only sensible that one of us accompany you for protection. Although you are a reputable member of the GAR whom I have seen manage precarious situations rather exceptionally, I am certain every one of us would prefer to maintain your safety as much as we are capable." Tech finally glanced down to give you the slightest hint of a smile, accompanied by a reassuring nod. "Please, continue."

"Th-Thanks," was all you could dumbly reply as you tore your eyes away from the clone to search around for any pop-up stand that had what you had dragged Tech out here to get. It was some form of balm that you had needed to add to your collection for healing cuts and scrapes that the GAR hadn't entirely said was a part of the standard order of supplies but it worked as a wonderful substitute for bacta. It didn't take much longer to find a stand that was selling medical salves and the like, though the warmth of Tech's steady touch- whether from his chest or his hand- distracted you desperately.

While shopping through the procured items laid out, you felt Tech's hand fall away from your shoulder and a voice that was unknown to you spoke. "Listen goggles," the gruff man spoke, "just walk away from the woman and nobody has to get hurt, alright?"

As you began to turn, you were met with Tech's broad back blocking you as his hand came behind him to tuck you closer. "I regret to inform you that I am incapable of doing so." His voice was as steady and casual as typical for Tech, if you'd not known any better you would've thought he'd been speaking to Hunter or one of the others.

Choking out a gurgled laugh, the man pulled out a blaster, clicking off what you recognized as the stun. You were hardly terrified, Tech was highly skilled, though faced with a blaster you were worried he might be injured. Tech wasn't the first to respond with violence, opting instead to de-escalate the situation with a straightforward and disarming method. "I don't think you heard me, prick. I don't think you want to die over a whore, do you?" The insult hit you, surprised by its accusation and you placed a steadying hand on the backpack Tech wore, to steal a glance of the situation. You felt the hand that was placed on your arm tighten its grip protectively at your movement.

Tech was caught off guard by the insult as well, inclining his head at the shorter man. "Pardon me?"

"The whore, you fool. I want to whore. Move away so I can have her and we can part ways without anyone getting harmed." The man motioned with his blaster for Tech to step aside, though he remained unmoving.

Tech adjusted his goggles with his free hand, "by my estimation, it would seem that the only fool in our current location would be you. I will not be moving, so in light of our impasse, how would you prefer to proceed? By the tremble of your blaster, I would venture that you are incapable of properly wielding the weapon, which is a dangerous decision in and of itself. Again, it would seem you are the fool." Tech took a step forward, calm assurance complimenting his candid tone.

"B-Back up, freak! I'll blast you without a second thought." The man snarled as he raised his blaster higher toward Tech's chest. As you noted what Tech said, he was right- as always- the man's hand shook prominently. Though the sight of a blaster pointed so blatantly at the trooper was unsettling, you trusted him.

"Proper blaster decorum is to hold higher on the handle, finger over the trigger, and placed securely at the target of the blaster bolt." Tech's nonchalant lesson to the man seemed to only set the situation more on edge, which was surprising to you. He wasn't de-escalating, he was...antagonizing. "Is it standard practice here that any chakaaryc is allowed to carry a blaster?"

"A-Any...what?" The man asked confounded by the word he didn't understand, using his other hand to stabilize the blaster now as Tech approached closer to him.

It was normal for the Batch to use their Mando'a around one another, though they didn't use it much around others outside the GAR and even you didn't understand the language so you never paid attention to the words. Though now you were silently cursing yourself for not studying it, wondering what it was that Tech said.

"Di'kutla," Tech's voice lowered to a tone you hadn't heard him use before, it sounded almost...dangerous, "It is a Mandalorian translation for a filthy low-life, such as yourself."

"Why you!" The man's finger began to push the blaster's trigger and you felt your heart drop, stomach-churning, until you blinked and nearly missed the effortlessly elegant way Tech disarmed the man of his blaster. Crying in pain as his hand was bent backward while Tech placed the rogue blaster in his belt after switching it off, the man spat curses at the trooper. "She's just a whore, man! What's your big deal?!"

At the man's insistence on your status, Tech furthered his grip, causing him to yell out, Tech’s stoic composure- in contrast- never faltering. "I believe I have heard quite enough from you, mir'sheb."

"But-" Interrupting the man's argument, Tech's fist connected directly to the criminal’s face in a surprising display of brutality, effectively silencing him- and bloodying his nose.

"I said enough."

Standing in absolute awe of the current events, you were speechless, and before you could muster anything to say you watched as Tech yanked the stumbling man toward you by the grip on his wrist. "Forgive my lack of decency, mesh'la, though regarding his offense, this man owes you an apology."

"Tech, I-" You began, only for Tech to twist the man's arm behind his back and press him forward a bit harsher to which the man stumbled onto his knees, causing Tech to bend down with him, muttering apologies at your feet.

"Are you pleased with his display of atonement, cyar'ika?" Tech's honeyed eyes rose to meet yours, his tall frame bending over the man on the ground, refusing to let him free until you were satisfied. At your nod, he released his hold.

The man scurried to his feet and scuttled away as quickly as he could, nursing his wrist. Confusion washed over you as you glanced at the trooper, dusting off his hands and shuffling things around on his belt to make room for the blaster he had acquired. Once satisfied with his work, Tech met your eyes once more, adjusting his goggles nonchalantly. "Have you found what it is that we came to find?"

Still stunned by Tech's uncommon display of brute force and his complete willingness to act as if it has been just a normal day of the week, you stood there silently holding up the salve. "Wonderful, then we should return quickly." He sent a look around the sky to notice that it was dark now, "I am sure-" and as if on cue, Tech's comm link made a sound. Echo's voice rushed out with a stern use of Tech's name as soon as he’d answered it.

"Where in the galaxy are you two? I said to be quick!" The clone complained on the other end of the comm. Motioning for you to join at his side, Tech explained that you were momentarily disrupted but were unharmed and returning shortly.

While he spoke with Echo, you stared stupidly at the salve in your hand, replaying Tech making an absolute fool of the criminal. You'd never seen him react in such a way and you could feel your cheeks burning at how attractive the response had been to witness. What could've caused such a change in his approach? Of course, the Batch was known to be unconventional, so maybe Tech just thought the only way to dissuade the man was to use brute strength, but it just seemed like something bothered him. Could it have been when the guy insulted you?

A call of your name brought you back to the present, where Tech was standing in front of you, his hand extended. "Take my hand, please, it is quite dark. I do not wish to lose you in the crowd, it would seem this town is worse than I had originally read about. I will make a note to update the Republic's records properly." His hand enveloped yours delicately, pulling you closer to his side to guide you through the mass.

The walk back to the Marauder was quiet, your mind reeling from what happened. You were no stranger to difficult scenarios such as that one, so it wasn't as if you were scared just baffled.

"Stars! Finally, you two are back." Echo huffed in frustration as you emerged from the treeline. "Come on, we gotta get out of here. We're wanted back on Kamino for some new mission. Everyone else is already prepped to leave."

Tech merely nodded, saying something about how he'd set up the ship to be ready for the journey, and departed with a casual 'see you inside' as he let go of your name.

"What's wrong with you?" The accusation behind Echo's voice elicited a glare from you, none of this would've been an issue had he not forced Tech to go with you. You wouldn't be standing here struggling to erase the image of Tech decking a criminal right in the face. Replaying the sound of his voice when he demanded his apology to you for his insults...

This was Echo's fault. For sure.

"Tech punched someone, Echo." You explained with narrowed eyes to which the pale clone laughed as if the joke you tried to tell him was the funniest thing he'd heard. "No, I'm serious. He dropped this guy. He pulled a blaster on us and Tech just...punched him in the face."

"That's weird. Tech's not usually the type to-"

"TRUST ME," you raised your voice, "I'M AWARE."

Echo started laughing again, "I told you that he had a soft spot for you, sarad." He motioned for you to follow as he began his ascent up the gangplank, and punched the closure button when you joined him.

Later into the night, while you lay awake in your bunk, you tossed and turned trying to quieten the memory from earlier though it was a futile effort. The thought was driving you crazy.

Why had Tech reacted that way? It was just too out of the ordinary for him. It seemed far more personal than he ever responded.

And Echo's comments about him having some sort of bias toward you weren't helping the racing of your heart.

So you crawled out of your bunk, making sure not to wake anyone up as you tip-toed up to the main hull where there were small sounds of tinkering echoing. Of course, he was still awake.

"Mesh'la," Tech commented as you walked in, surprising him. "You are supposed to be asleep, what are you doing awake?"

Flashing him a grin as you took up residency in the co-pilot seat across from him, you pulled your legs up close to your chest. "Much like yourself, Tech, I couldn't sleep."

Adjusting his goggles, Tech blinked a few times in consideration. "Well, are there any extenuating circumstances that are barring you from getting the rest you usually require? Such as Wrecker's snoring? Crosshair mumbling in his sleep? Echo has a bad habit of shifting a lot during the night, could it be that?"

Shaking your head at his list of options, you took a breath, "I, actually have a question."

A glance in his direction showed his brow raising in confusion. "A question for me?" Upon seeing your nod he prompted you to continue, setting his tools aside to give you his undivided attention.

"Earlier..." you began, nervously playing with the hem of your GAR-issued pajama shirt, "in the town." Tech's intent gaze spurred you to continue, though you were anxious about how he would take the question. He was always truthful, but would he find the question odd? Would he think it was a stupid question? "You reacted differently than normal." You pointed about, changing directions a little, instead of asking a question.

"I am obligated to point out that your statement is not a question, cyare. However, your assessment is correct. It is not my usual course of action to resort to physical altercations in such situations..." He responded evenly. "Though, this circumstance required a unique response from me." His added comment confused you even more.

"Why?" You inquired, eyes now meeting his.

Tilting his head to the side slightly, his brows furrowed as if he were the perplexed one now. "I thought it would be obvious." His simple response was mildly bothersome. Of course, it wasn't obvious! That's why you couldn't sleep!

"Tech, you have to remember, sometimes, some of us need you to explain what's going on up there in that exceptional mind of yours." You clarified as you tapped your temple, gesturing for him with a soft smile on your face.

It dawned on him then, that perhaps it probably wasn't obvious to you. Though he struggled to find how to put it into words. "I was required to respond irregularly because he had offended you. Pointing a blaster at me is less of an issue, one I am perfectly well adept at discouraging," Tech's voice was unchanging until he glanced at his hands and his tone dropped. "It wasn't until his unwarranted comments regarding you that I felt my common strategy of de-escalating was not suitable enough. Your virtue demanded more than my words to right the occurrence." His eyes were still downcast as he spoke, seeming...embarrassed?

"My virtue?" You repeated his term of use.

Nodding, the clone finally met your eyes, the emotion behind his brown hues causing the breath to catch in your lungs. "Yes. I will never allow someone to speak so disparagingly about you in my presence. You deserve far more from those who say they care for you."

The blue streaks of hyperspace highlighted the contours of his handsome face, highlighting his features. It seemed as if time slowed to a crawl between the two of you at his admission. Was it a declaration of love, no, but it still burned in your chest as if it had been. "You care for me, Tech?"

"Considerably so, yes." The speed and certainty of his response felt as if it knocked you against the seat, like your first trip into hyperspace, kicking you back. His honesty was staggering every time. "If I can be forthright, I find that I am more partial to you than even my brothers are. I have spoken with Hunter at length about why this may be. The solution we have come to at the very moment is," Then he paused for a moment, considering his words carefully, "that I have a romantic interest in you. The signs of psychical attraction I have are evident, or so I thought. I desire to be close to you as often as possible, and the ability to speak with you about things is a welcomed one that I look forward to regularly."

As you listened, the burning in your chest only worsened. Tech not only punched a man because he insulted you, but punched a man who insulted you because of how much he cares about you and your honor? And now he was telling you how much he'd cared for you? This had to be a dream.

"Forgive me if this is not the answer you were envisioning, however, that does not change the truth of the answer to your query." Tech finished with a resolute nod, though the emotion did not leave his eyes.

You sat there across from him for a while in silence, reflecting, assessing, and gathering, but once everything sorted itself into place in your mind you rose from your seat to stand before Tech. He'd always been so straightforward, so honest with you...he only deserved the same in return.

Your hands hesitantly reached out, testing the waters of his current mood. When he didn't pull away, you caressed his jaw on either side lovingly, tilting his chin up to meet your eyes. The astonishment in them betrayed his outwardly calm demeanor as you leaned down to graze your lips against his, a whispered 'thank you' tumbling from your lips before you kissed him.

As if your confusion and amazement had been transferred to him, Tech merely sat in his seat, numbly. However, as you began to pull away, his hand quickly reached out to rest around the back of your head to stop you from going too far. Brown eyes explored your face as if you were an illusion, "you captivate and baffle me," he breathed out in wonderment, pulling you back in for another kiss, "show me more, please."

Laughing under your breath at his request you lowered yourself into his lap gingerly, "I'd love to, but right now, I just want to kiss you a little more."

________________________________________

Mando'a translations just in case- chakaaryc - lowlife, rotten, di'kutla- useless/ worthless, mir'sheb- smartass

@stellarbit - this is for the both of us.

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yeagerfate · 1 year

Text

big spoon or little spoon?

characters: miles morales (earth-1610), miguel o’hara, hobie brown, gwen stacy, pavitr prabhakar

warnings: none lol

notes: i didn’t proofread this because i’m exhausted from a bunch of irl stuff, so i’ll come check this out later and see if i need to fix anything. don’t really like how this went at all but i need something to post so oh well <3 might delete this later kinda depends. also i got my first writing request which i am very excited about hehe

Honestly, it all really depends on Miles’ mood. If he’s had a good day, then he’ll definitely be spooning you. However, if something went wrong, he will be seeking your comfort and attention. One of your most memorable moments with Miles’ was spooning him for the first time. He’d completely flunked an exam because he was out on a really dangerous mission the night before. In shambles, Miles had told you that he hadn’t slept at all and fell asleep during the test. He was really nervous to tell his parents about it because he didn’t know what his excuse would be. The last thing he wanted was for them to think he was out at some party, or just being irresponsible. He slept like a baby after you consoled him, his head resting on your chest as you ran your hand up and down his back with the other holding his head. Although it was a bittersweet moment, you enjoyed it, and the way Miles had drooled in his sleep had you trying not to wake him up from your sweet giggling.

Miguel’s in denial, but he’s a little spoon. The feeling of your hands running through his wavy hair at the end of a stressful day at work is something he’s grown addicted to. He’s a bit ashamed of it, as he thinks he should be the one holding you, but you quickly snap him out of it. Miguel finds solace in your arms, and for a couple hours it’s nice to forget about all of the emotional turmoil from work. Though, if you ever ask for it, Miguel will absolutely hold you. Sometimes, it’s nice to feel your head resting on his muscular chest and your warmth on him. In the mornings, it’s especially hard for Miguel to get up. Your arms are just so comfy and snug, and he feels like he’s at home when he’s with you. Lyla makes fun of him for it, calling him a “simp” (he doesn’t know what it means), but he doesn’t care. The way your face lights up when you feel his toned arms wrapped tightly around your face is something he’d never want to give up.

Hobie is a big spoon. He’s not big into snuggling, as he likes his personal space, but once you get into it, you get into it. (He is very affectionate with the people he cares about, though!) He’s found that the most comfortable position would be with your back against his chest and his arm wrapped around your stomach, his face hidden in your neck sweetly. It can get a little irritating, since Hobie is a big snorer. He also has a warmer body temperature, so in the summer, you’ll have to resolve to holding each other’s hands. It’s both endearing and frustrating, but it’s for Hobie, and that makes it worth it. During cuddling, the bonnet he wears tickles your neck. It’s hard to hold in the automatic laugh you have from it because he’s trying to sleep. Cuddling with Hobie is messy, fun, and enjoyable. It’s just so… Hobie.

Gwen, despite her average height, is a big spoon. She likes the feeling of being able to just hold and protect you. Gwen has lost so much, and so she feels she has to make sure you’re safe at all times. One of the way she does this is by holding you close to her her neck, your head resting on her shoulder as she runs her hands down your back. It doesn’t matter how tall you are. Even if you’re a foot taller than her, you’ll still be held by her. However, Gwen occasionally has nightmares, and so when she wakes up she’d like to be embraced by you. When she has her head pressed against you chest, and she can hear the sound of your heartbeat, it really makes her feel better. It reassures her panicking brain that you’re alive, you’re here, and you’re fine. It’s a soothing feeling, one that’s hard to describe. All she knows is that she really treasures it.

Pavitr is very enthusiastic about all types of physical affection, and that includes cuddling. He is a big spoon, though he doesn’t mind trading places at all. While you’re cuddling, he loves to tell you about how his day went. If you know that he’s spider-man, he’ll tell you all about the adventures he went on with his friends. Sometimes, he’ll even rant about Miguel, which is very amusing. However, if you don’t know that he’s spider-man, Pavitr will take a much different approach. Instead, he’ll ask you to tell him about your day. He asks you if you saw anything you liked at the stores nearby, or if you tried any new food. He likes to take note of these revelations because they make for great gifts. Pavitr is a very talkative cuddler, but on tiring days, he’ll be out like a light after 5 minutes. It all depends on how his day went.

#atsv fluff #atsv x reader #itsv x reader #itsv fluff #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #miles morales fluff #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse x reader #into the spiderverse x reader #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x reader #gwen stacy fluff #gwen stacy x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr prabhakar fluff #slept from 3am to 12pm today kinda regret it kinda dont #i hate tagging bruh

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1d1195 · 12 days

Text

Sunflower - Extra I

Read Sunflower here | ~2.3k words

From Me: This is mostly dialogue. I thought it was cute 🤷‍♀️

Warnings: fluffy and maybe a tiny bit of angst.

Summary: Harry reminisces on their first date. How badly he wanted to kiss her and know everything about her.

“History.”

He smiled. One question answered.

Only a thousand or so more to go.

His head rested on her stomach, nestled against her soft shirt. Harry loved looking at her, but it was good he was tucked into her embrace because she was so gorgeous it still made him tongue tied sometimes. “Why?”

“I loved the content, I just sucked at remembering the details. I never remembered names or countries that were involved in a conflict. It’s all just vague ideas and things. Dates, though. I was good at memorizing dates. Probably because it was numbers. Battles and locations? Not a clue. I sucked.”

He chuckled. “What’s your favorite candle scent?”

If anyone had told her that Harry enjoyed being snuggly and being the little spoon months ago while he was visiting the bistro, she wouldn’t have believed you. But here he was. His ear pressed to her tummy, his hands wrapped under her back, and her fingers combing through his hair. He was making her body about a thousand degrees warmer, but she didn’t care. It was nice. Like a blanket. Having Harry so close was a dream come true. “The candles they put out for fall in stores. Anything that smells like a campfire or apples. Or both.”

He closed his eyes unable to believe how lucky he was to hold her like this. His legs dangled off the side of her couch and he nodded tiredly against her. He had a tremendously long day at the office. They were supposed to leave in a few minutes to go get dinner—one of their only date nights, but he didn’t want to move. The way her fingers touched his scalp lightly scratching and massaging an itch he didn’t even know existed. Staying in seemed better. But she was all dressed up. Her makeup so pretty and flawless amplifying how beautiful she looked.

He couldn’t not show her off. Even if she was all his anyway.

Her stomach grumbled beneath his ear. “Gotta feed you, hmm?”

“It’s okay,” she mumbled softly. “We can stay in,” she suggested, nudged her feet until he heard one of her shoes fall to the floor and then the other.

He shook his head sitting up. His face was instantly colder than he wanted it to be. His arms ached to hold her close again even though they had been snuggled up for hours. She smiled that beautiful smile that made him so happy he could have stared at her for ages.

How lucky was he that he got to be so close to her.

Their first date, Harry showed up an hour early because he was so anxious and excited. He apologized profusely, but she didn't mind. "You'll just have to watch me get ready," she warned him. So he did. He watched her curl her hair and put on makeup in awe. But most importantly, she really didn’t mind in the slightest. She simply directed him to sit on the toilet seat lid and told him to be patient while she got even prettier (his words not hers).

Of course, he was in awe because watching her was his favorite movie. It was like watching an artist painting the next Sistine Chapel. Her smile met his eyes no less than twenty times in the mirror as she worked and while they chatted.

He didn’t need to ask what kind of shampoo she used because he could see it through the glass enclosure around her shower. Something floral and light that permeated when he got close to her. When her curling iron released steam from the product she used in tandem with the sweet-smelling scent. It made him feel completely relaxed even though he was still so nervous.

“What’s your favorite song?” He asked while she did her mascara. She grinned again, shyly.

“I’m more of a favorite of a week kind of song lover.”

“This week?” He wondered.

She tilted her head. “State Lines by Novo Amor.”

“Pretty,” he nodded. “Sad, no?”

She shrugged. “I think it’s hopeful.”

“Hopeful?” he repeated. “They’re in love but they’re in a long-distance relationship and s’literally creating distance between them emotionally,” he frowned. It was a sad song for her to love so much. It was pretty, probably good to listen to if she was feeling down or needed a nap. She turned around to look at him head on, with a smirk, without the mirror to play the go between. It was full eye contact. Her pretty, stunning eyes that made him tongue tied. The smile that made his heart skip a beat. Her entire presence the reason he had spent hundreds maybe thousands of dollars at the bistro over the last four months with the prettiest, brightest flower known to man on every surface of the place.

“The ending,” she said simply. “Extremely hopeful. He wants it to work.”

Harry knew the feeling. Suddenly it was his favorite song too.

“Why did y’pick finance?” He asked. They were at dinner when he asked. Not The Sunflower Bistro. Harry did suggest eating there. It was an important place to him after all. But she insisted elsewhere. Mainly for fear that Niall or Jake would make her crazy or embarrassed. It wouldn’t be good for her mental sanity for a first date. Plus, if he was honest, Harry was still a bit jealous of Jake even though he knew he didn’t need to be. But he didn’t want to test his own luck with his emotions. Nor did he want to share his very sweet date with anyone. Even if it was only due to her politeness that would keep them talking to her as they served them.

“I love numbers, and I liked economics in high school and found something so fascinating about the ebb and flow of money. I know that makes me sound money hungry but it’s not. I’ve been applying to a ton of nonprofit organizations. I want to work for a company that wants to help people. I want to make sure kids have school lunches and that elderly people have a place to live that won’t cost an arm and a leg.”

Tongue-tied. So completely, totally, tongue-tied. There was no way anyone this sweet would want to be with Harry. He worked for a big scary corporate job and was probably the exact opposite of what she wanted. “Are you okay?” She asked.

He nodded, then shook his head while clearing his throat. How embarrassing would it be if he couldn’t talk to her on their first date because he was so goddamn in love with her? “How many siblings do y’have?” He needed a safer topic. One that wasn’t going to make him fall in love with her so readily.

“Just one. We’re not very close, but I wish we were. I’d still kill for him. But he’s still in high school and I’m finishing college. I’m hoping when we’re older we’ll get closer.”

“My sister and I are closer now that we’re older. I imagine I was a pain in her butt when we were younger. When she was a teen, and I was an annoying little kid.”

“I bet she loved you still. There’s six years between us, I loved the crap out of him even when I wanted to tear his head off.”

He chuckled. “I think you’re nicer than Gemma.”

She smiled and sipped her drink. Harry wanted to know everything about her. Every seemingly trivial piece of information there was to know. It felt like if he didn’t know he would explode. It was like he was studying for an exam, and she was every answer. All the months he spent in his regular booth twice a week, he felt like he learned nothing. Now he was trying to cram for some made up test and nothing about his line of questions made sense.

“What kind of music do y’listen t’when you’re cooking?”

“Like this classic rock radio station that my dad listened to my entire childhood. It’s super nostalgic but it’s like a hug when I’m alone cooking for myself,” she wrinkled her nose. “It’s kind of lame, isn’t it?”

He shook his head. “No, s’nice,” he smiled. “Send me the station so I can listen too,” he suggested.

Her head tilted; her eyes thoughtful as she grinned back at him. As much as he wanted to know everything about her, he would have loved to stare at her just as much. He opened his mouth to ask another question but fortunately the waiter interrupted.

It probably wasn’t appropriate to ask her how many kids she wanted on a first date.

Harry walked her to the door feeling more anxious than when he came to pick her up. He was supposed to kiss her. Supposed to. But how could he? How could he do that if he was worried he would drool in her mouth or if he would do it wrong and ruin it? If he ruined it, she would never go on another date with him. After all that, all the stuff he learned about her, it seemed cruel for his anxiety to ruin the end of the night.

“I had a really nice time,” her voice was soft as they shared the top step of the stoop outside her apartment. A one bedroom in a small duplex house. Her friend lived on the other side, and she was glad there wasn’t a car in her driveway to make her feel exposed.

“Good,” he bit his lip. “I... I guess I’ll let y’go. I know y’work a double tomorrow.”

Was that disappointment in her eyes? “Oh... yeah. Yeah, I do,” Her face fell ever so slightly. If Harry wasn’t so entranced he would have missed it for sure. Leaning in he pressed his lips to her cheek. Her skin was so soft and he was so nervous he was going to linger and act like a creep.

“Good night,” he murmured.

“Good night,” Harry turned the second the word left her mouth. He walked to his car feeling like an idiot. He closed his eyes as he touched the car handle and then there was a touch on his back. “I’m sorry!” She blurted then looked up at the sky and winced. “Jesus, I’m so sorry,” she croaked.

Harry blinked. “Sorry?” He questioned.

“Yes, so sorry. I feel like I ruined our first date. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I lost an hour of prep time and I’m not blaming you. I was so happy to have you around for an extra hour but I didn’t get to think about what I wanted to ask or say. Then you just asked all these really sweet and thoughtful questions. I didn’t ask you one question about yourself, Harry. Not one I don’t know why you even stayed the whole time, I feel so terrible. I don’t know what happened and I’m sad you didn’t want to kiss me because of it—”

Harry was in awe, but he wasn’t someone that liked to inflict pain on others. So he cupped either side of her jaw and kissed her. Just pressed his lips to hers and ran his thumb along her cheek as he did. She grabbed one of his elbows and sank into the kiss as well. Her lips returning the pressure perfectly. There wasn’t too much drool and he didn’t ruin it. He pulled back and her eyelids fluttered open. Her cheek was warm beneath his thumb. If it was a bit lighter out, he imagined a pretty blush bloomed across her cheeks.

“I really wanted t’kiss you,” he murmured. “Can I kiss y’again?”

She nodded mutely, her eyes fluttering closed as he pressed his mouth back to hers, one hand moving from her jaw to the back of her neck before it smoothed down her spine and he pulled her closer to him by pressing against the small of her back. He kissed her softly again restraining the moan that begged to come from his throat. When he pulled away again, he swallowed.

“Y’didn’t do anything wrong. M’so... tongue tied over you. I want t’know everything ‘bout you. I was trying so hard not t’let the conversation die because I didn’t want you t’think I was stupid. Or boyish and only obsessed with how pretty y’looked—which y’did, by the way. You look stunning,” her smile looked equal parts relieved and adorable. “I didn’t even notice y’didn’t ask a question.”

“We talked all the time at Sunflower.”

“I think it was different when I was jus’ a customer, kitten,” he shrugged. “Y’flitted about and chatted so easily because it was your job. M’glad y’were nervous. Means it wasn’t a chore for you t’go out with me.”

She giggled and Harry wondered if he could record the sound, and have it play in his headphones while he fell asleep. “I want to know everything about you, Harry. I’m sorry I didn’t ask more questions.”

“You don’t have t’be sorry, love,” he assured her, kissed the top of her head and pulled her into his embrace and leaned against his car as he held her. “You could ask them on the next date?” He offered as a question.

“Yes,” she nodded against his body. “A next date for sure.”

“What are you thinking about?” She whispered. “You’ve got this dreamy look in your eye.”

Did he? How long had he been staring off thinking about their first date. Poor thing had to be starving, and he was just lying there, keeping her trapped in his arms while he pictured their first two kisses. “Nothing,” he shook his head.

“Thinking of your other girlfriend?” She wrinkled her nose. Harry snorted.

“Don’t be ridiculous, kitten,” he rolled his eyes and kissed her forehead before he sat up shifting to hold her on his lap as if she weighed no more than a basket of laundry. “You’re the only girl for me.”

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

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#harry #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #hs #hs fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles concept #harry styles one shot #one direction #one direction writing #sunflower

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piedinthepiper · 7 months

Text

Prima Ballerina ˖ ⊹

Yandere!Jimin x ballerina!reader

Summary: What’s the difference between a great ballerina and the greatest ballerina? The answer is Park Jimin. And he had his eyes on you in more than a professional way.

Warnings: heavy dubcon, Jimin is super cocky and thinks he knows everything (misogyny?), cursing, corruption, Jimin is also a creep, age gap (reader is of legal age), stalking (non descriptive), smut

Wc: 4.3k

A/n: Written for this request. I love black swan and ballet so I had to do this! Hope you enjoy! Don’t be a silent reader! Like, repost and comment!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I know nothing about ballet except for whatever ballet they show in the Barbie movies. Everything is off Google, so some technical terms and such might be incorrect.

You did a final jump before the dramatic music came to an end. His eyes were piercing through you. Watching your every movement, your every step, your every breath. But he watched you all, you thought to yourself. Everybody had to be perfect for the premiere of Swan lake. The hardest and most demanding ballet you had ever danced in your career. The choreography was almost impossible. So Mr. Park had yet again kept you there for hours overtime, and all of you were exhausted.

“Agh, my feet hurt. I hope this was the last round.”

Your friend, Maria, whispered to you. You smiled at her and was about to answer, when a loud clap was heard throughout the room. It silenced everyone.

“Ms. Sanderson, do you have something to tell the company?”

Mr. Park locked eyes with her. Staring her down from across the room like a predator. She looked a bit tongue tied for a second.

“Ehm- no. No, Mr. Park.”

He nodded at her answer.

“I do think I heard complaining back there, are you sure you didn’t say anything?”

She looked down to the floor and carefully shook her head.

“I don’t believe you, you’re pathetic. Out of my studio!”

He yelled at her and pointed a sharp finger towards the exit. Her eyes continued to stay on the floor. Accepting her fate.

“I said it!”

You yelled back and raised your hand. His eyes turned back to you.

“Bold of you, Ms. y/l/n. Thanks to you all the swans have to practice for another hour. The rest are dismissed.”

The room was filled with sighs and groans.

“Ok, let’s make that two.”

No one uttered a single word, afraid that the time would get longer.

“That’s what I thought. You, come with me.”

He briefly pointed at you, before he started to walk out of the practice room.

“The rest of you can take a 10 minute break.”

Maria looked at you with a apologetic look.

“Thank you, y/n.”

She said and grabbed your hand. You gave her a small smile. Of course you would stand up for her. She was your best friend in the company.

“Yeah, thanks a lot y/n.”

One of the other girls said sarcastically. You didn’t pay it any mind, you would also be furious if someone made you stay two hours overtime when you already were on overtime. You grabbed your leg warmers.

“No worries, you know I got you.”

You comforted Maria, before you started walking towards the exit. You knew Mr. Park went to his office. It wasn’t your first time being scolded.

“Sit down.”

He said once you entered. He was already sitting behind his desk. You sat down opposite of him, leaning down to slide into your leg warmers.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Park.”

You started off with. Trying to sound as apologetic as possible. He sighed.

“Do you think I do this for fun, y/n?”

You got up from your crouched position and looked him in the eyes.

“No I don’t.”

He was one of the best ballet teachers and directors in the whole world. It was obviously an honour just to be able to dance for him. But you knew he had a soft spot for you for some reason. That’s why you were comfortable taking Maria’s place.

“I would much rather be at home as well, relaxing and eating a good meal. But there would be no Swan lake, and there would be no good ballerinas without me.”

He pulled his hand through his black hair in stress. It was slicked back like usual, but throughout the day a few strands had loosened.

“If everyone stopped practicing at five o’clock like scheduled, the premiere would be nothing but chaos. Do you understand that, y/n?”

You nodded. He looked you up and down for a second. Taking in your form. He slowly got up and walked towards you. He grabbed your chin harshly, making you look back up at him.

“I’ve been observing you for the last days, you truly are far too beautiful and talented to be just a swan.”

You raised your eyebrows at his sudden compliment.

“You’re prima ballerina material, for sure.”

His hand slid to the side of your face, cupping your jaw.

“Too bad I have to fire you.”

“What?!”

Your eyebrows crossed as you shook your head out of his grip. His hand went into his pocket, making him look surprisingly relaxed.

“The two of us, let alone the entire company, knows that this isn’t your first time being sent to my office.”

You looked at him in shock. You couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“If I don’t give you the consequences, it’s going to look suspicious.”

You shook your head. He was going to fire you just because something as simple as complaining?

“You can’t do that.”

“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”

He smirked again, before walking to stand right in front of you. You looked up and down his long body. Before looking back at him with your most innocent, but still sultry eyes.

“Please don’t fire me, Mr. Park. You wouldn’t do that to me would you?”

He cocked his head at your plea. Scanning you up and down yet again. He had a puzzled look on his face.

“Don’t test me.”

You grabbed his hand as you fell down to your knees. You knew he liked it when you begged. And since this was a life or death situation for your career, you didn’t mind being a little extra.

“I’ll do anything. Please just let me continue to dance for you. I’m nothing without you. I can’t- you can’t-”

You knew what buttons to push. His ego was too big to not take the bait.

“You’re right. It would be a shame to waste your potential.”

He lifted your head up again by your chin. A sudden sexual tension hit you, once you saw the outline of his bulge. You knew your actions had an effect on him, but not to that extent.

“It would be a shame to waste such a pretty face.”

You tried your best to look him in the eyes. It was hard to not shy away at a situation like that, even for you.

“Please, Mr. Park.”

He inhaled sharply, before he broke out in a smile.

“I forgive you, y/n. I can’t live with myself if I don’t give you another chance.”

You smiled up at him as well, preceding to get back up on your feet. But his arm found your shoulder and stopped you in your ascend.

“Wait.”

He warned you, and you quickly sat back down on your knees.

“I like seeing you like this, it’s not often you look so- submissive.”

Chills ran down your spine at his words. You definitely did not take that as a compliment. You were quite fiery, yes. And in any normal situation you would never let a man speak to you like he did. But the fear of losing your job, combined with the reverence you felt towards him, made you defy yourself.

“After this season I want you to take private lessons with me. Every Tuesday and Thursday.”

You nodded carefully, not looking up at him.

“Don’t look so down, darling. I’ll make you my next prima ballerina.”

“He said what?”

Maria half whispered in shock.

“Ms. Sanderson.”

Mrs. Petrova, your instructor, who was so old she probably was alive when swan lake was composed, hushed her. Maria looked at her before looking down at her moving feet. The company was warming up, standing in clean lines against the railing, moving to the rhythm of the slow classical music.

“Not only did he not fire you.”

She whispered once Mrs. Petrova was at the other end of the room.

“But he also said he would make you a prima ballerina?”

You nodded.

“Switch to third position!”

The two of you switched.

“Wow, you are so lucky. Mr. Park hasn’t had a prima ballerina in years.”

You smiled at her, and lifted you head higher when Mrs. Petrova walked by. You remained silent until you knew she was far enough away.

“I’m happy of course, it’s just- I don’t know. There’s something weird about him.”

“Yeah he’s like really cocky.”

She answered and held back a laugh.

“That too, but he’s just eerie. Like I don’t know if I want to spend so much time with him alone.”

“Ms. y/l/n! Would you like to share something with the company? Or do I have to send the two of you to Mr. Parks office?”

Mrs. Petrova suddenly bursted out. You locked eyes with Maria. Not knowing what to answer the old hag.

“We were just talking about-“

“Boys, just boys.”

You interrupted Maria. Not wanting her to say anything about you or Mr. Park. Mrs. Petrova gave the two of you a strict look, before the music started playing again.

“Please focus on your movements, not the opposite gender.”

She scolded before walking away from the two of you.

“And fourth position!”

“He just kept looking at me weirdly, and telling me that I’m beautiful and shit.”

You said as the two of you were walking down towards the cafeteria for lunch.

“Oh my god! He probably has a crush on you or something!”

Maria said a little bit too loud. You poked her in her side with your elbow.

“Please, keep it down.”

She started laughing, and you quickly followed. As you turned a corner you crashed into something. Or rather someone. A hand snuck around you waist, keeping you from falling. You looked up, finding the familiar brown eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Park. I didn’t see where I was going.”

He looked at you for a second, before smiling. He didn’t let go of your waist, and when you became aware of that you awkwardly stepped away from him.

“No harm done.”

He simply said and walked away. You looked over at Maria.

“I get it.”

She simply said as you started walking again.

“Right?”

You asked, looking back at her as she tried to keep up with you.

“What ever look he just gave you was not the look you give to someone you have a crush on.”

The season had ended, for a minute you felt relief. Knowing you had time off now to just relax before the next season. But as you read the message on your phone, you felt that relief fade away.

“Studio 5, next Thursday at 07.00 am. Don’t be late.”

You sighed, was this really what you wanted? Of course it was a dream come true to potential become Mr. Parks new prima ballerina. But you couldn’t help but feel weird about that time in his office. It seemed like he had other intentions in mind. Mr. Park was an attractive man yes, but he was way older than you and you didn’t want his attention in that way. He was your teacher, your mentor. Not a potential hook up. You didn’t see him in that way, and you hoped against all odds that he didn’t see you like that either.

What you didn’t know was that in that moment, outside on the dark street. He was there. Looking at you through your window. Watching your puzzled look at his text. He didn’t know his intentions fully yet either. But he did know they were not good.

“Higher.”

He simply said as he watch you dance to the music. It was your fifth lesson together, and everything was going well. You hadn’t seen the side of him that you saw when he proposed this idea. And you were enjoying yourself, getting these private lessons had really helped you improve. In the next second arabesque, you lifted your leg even higher. Showing him that you listened. But he still shut the music off. You stepped down from your tips, looking at him as he walked up to you.

“Turn around.”

He said once he reached you. And you did as instructed. You looked at him through the big mirrors.

“Do your second arabesque.”

You stood back up on your toes, and gracefully bent into a second arabesque.

“Look at yourself in the mirror.”

He said, and you did. You instinctively pushed your leg even further up, once you saw your own reflection.

“Now back to full position.”

You moved your face upwards again, looking away from the mirror. You felt his hands touch your waist. He straightened your back, before one of his hands went to your lifted leg.

“Look back at yourself.”

He almost whispered in your ear, now with one hand on your waist, and the other holding your leg higher than what you were comfortable with. You smiled once you saw yourself. Your arabesque looked different, more sophisticated.

“When you do your second arabesque, or any arabesque for that matter. Remember this. Straight back and high leg.”

He said in a low comforting tone once he saw your smile. You nodded, and stepped down from your tippy toes. He let go of your leg, but moved that hand to the other side of your waist.

“Think of me holding your waist, it’ll help you stabilise.”

He whispered now, you felt his warm breath on the back of your neck. You turned to look at him.

“Thank you.”

You muttered. His eyes immediately fell to your lips, and in a split second his lips were on yours. You were caught off guard, and didn’t respond at first. But once it dawned on you what was happening you quickly moved your face away from his. You felt his hands on your waist tighten.

“Please don’t ever do that again.”

You looked up at the mirror, wanting to see his reaction. He was looking you dead in the eye, with anger written all over his face. He leaned down to kiss your bare shoulder, still maintaining eye contact. Before he deeply whispered.

“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”

His hand moved up to your face as he turned to kiss you yet again. You pushed him away, and tried to make a run for it. But he snaked his arm around your chest.

“Let me go!”

You struggled against him, now scared of what would happen if you didn’t get away. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in and you elbowed him as hard as you could in his side. His hand loosened and you ran. But not quick enough. He grabbed you by your arm and threw you into the big mirror. It was pure luck that it didn’t shatter. His body locked you in.

“Hush, I won’t hurt you.”

He said, and for a second you stopped fighting. You were out of breath, but still managed to give him a death glare.

“Let me go!”

You tried once again. He shook his head.

“Do you think I just give away free lessons? Don’t you think you need to repay me?”

You felt something hard against your abdomen. You wanted to cry, you didn’t know what to do. His face shifted once he saw your eyes watering.

“No, no. I’m not a rapist, y/n! God no. But if you want to be my prima ballerina. You have to get your priorities straight.”

You clung onto the little bit of relief you felt from his words.

“I’ve tried my best to stay away, y/n. I really have. But there’s just something about you.”

You felt his hips grind against yours.

“You make me fucking crazy. I can’t wait any longer. I need you.”

He let out a small moan at the friction. A tear fell down your face.

“Please, Mr. Park. Let me go.”

You sobbed. He hushed you again.

“I’ll let you go. Just listen to me.”

You took a deep breath, collecting yourself as much as you could.

“By next Thursday I want an answer. Either you show up or you don’t. Don’t be late.”

He pushed himself off the wall and gave you one last look before slowly walking out the studio. Leaving you alone in the big dance room. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

“I don’t know what to do, Maria. This is like a fucking nightmare!”

You said sobbing onto Marias lap as she comforted you. You called her the minute you got home, knowing that she already knew most of the backstory. She immediately came over to your place, wanting to be there for you in a situation like this. You were forever great full for having a friend like her.

“You have to report this. Surely the police could do something about him.”

She said in a calm voice, stroking your hair lightly. You sat up in your bed, wiping your tears away from your swollen face.

“Would they though?”

You asked defeated. Mr. Park was a rich and famous man. You wanted to believe Marias theory, but the hard sad truth was that you didn’t stand a chance against him. Especially with no proof.

“Either I don’t show up and give up my career or-“

You paused, collecting your thoughts.

“Or you give that bastard what he wants.”

Maria finished for you. Knowing exactly what you were thinking.

“Look, being Jimin Parks prima ballerina is huge. It really is, but- I don’t know, is it really worth it? Is it really worth loosing your dignity for a life of fame?”

She asked you with a worried face. You blinked away your tears, not wanting to cry anymore.

“What else would I do? I’ve been dancing my entire life, everything I’ve ever done has lead up to this moment. I can’t-“

You shook your head, not letting the emotions take control over you again.

“I have to show up, I have to talk some sense into him. I can’t give up now. I just can’t.”

You looked down at your hands in your lap as you felt a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You could go to college, get a degree, get a nine to five. Anything but this, please I can’t watch you go through with this. It’s not safe to see him again.”

You looked up at her again.

“And be a complete failure? Not only to my parents, to you, to the company, but also to myself. This is all I’ve ever dreamed of, Maria.”

“You won’t be a failure! You’re an amazing dancer, you have real talent. But it’s not worth it.”

You shook your head. You had already made up your mind.

“I’m sorry.”

You mumbled. Maria sighed and got up from the bed.

“You do you, girl. But you better not call me crying next Thursday. I won’t feel bad for you.”

She said before walking out your room. You were alone with this now. But like you told her, you couldn’t give up on your dream. No matter the cost.

Thursday. You were sweating. A lump had formed itself inside your stomach, and it was impossible to to ignore it. You took what felt like your last breath before you opened the door to the studio. He stood in the other end, hands crossed over his chest, with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“You’re late.”

His voice rang through the big room, leaving an echo. You stepped into the room, the door shutting behind you. Another echo filling the otherwise dead silent room. You didn’t walk towards him, you stayed by the door. The silence making the lump in your stomach grow even larger.

“What are you doing?”

He asked, still with a slight smirk.

“Come here, we have dancing to do.”

You didn’t know what to do. Your entire body was screaming for you to run out the door and never look back. But your brain didn’t let you move.

“Come over here, y/n. Right now!”

He said in a strict tone, once you didn’t listen. Your own feet moved against your own will, as you slowly started moving forward. You put your bag down on your way.

“Good girl.”

He said, barely audible. But you heard it. All your senses were sharpened. He watched you like a predator, as you can closer and closer. You stopped at a reasonable distance. Close enough to have a conversation with him, but still just out of reach.

“Why so gloomy? You’ve made the biggest decision in your life, baby.”

He stepped closer to you. Every single muscle in your body tensed as his hand met your face in a loving embrace.

“I’m going to make you a star.”

He whispered. You shook your head.

“I don’t want to have sex with you, Mr. Park.”

His smile faded at your words. You straightened your back, trying your best to seem confident and not afraid of the man standing in front of you.

“This is all I’ve ever dreamt of. It’s all I’ve ever worked for. But I refuse to think that this is the only way I can get what I want.”

You said as you tried to conceal the shaky breath escaping your mouth.

“Please, I don’t want to sleep my way to fame. I want to earn it. So tell me, do you see a true and genuine prima ballerina in me. Or am I just a piece of meat?”

He looked at you directly in your eyes. You didn’t break eye contact. You were not giving up, not yet. He broke out in laughter after a few seconds of staring into your soul.

“Oh, y/n. Please.”

He continued laughing, as if this whole thing was a joke. You stayed as serious as ever.

“This is what I like about you. You’re so stubborn, so strong. You don’t see that often around here.”

He turned serious in a split second.

“Why would I be lying to you? Huh? I can sleep with whoever I want. If I wanted just a one night stand I’d pick one of the other girls. Someone easier to manipulate.”

His hand slid around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“I’m a man of my word, y/n. I see potential in you, I wouldn’t just say that to anyone.”

His eyes flickered down to your lips. You instinctively turned your head away, opting to looking at the two of you in the mirror. He looked back at you in the reflection.

“I see my next prima ballerina.”

He said and pointed at the mirror.

“You’re not just beautiful and talented, you have a strong mind. You’re perfect.”

You sighed, looking back at him.

“Why would you waste it all?”

He asked and softly caressed your chin. Your gaze flicked down, wanting to look anywhere but him. He was right, why would you waste the opportunity to have everything you’ve ever wanted?

“It’s honestly a package deal. You get fame and fortune, and good sex. I don’t see what the problem is honestly.”

You looked back up at him again. Trying to conceal the ick you just got.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

His face turned into a devilish grin.

“Join me in my office.”

He hastily got rid of your bollero, throwing it onto the floor. The second you stepped into his office his lips were on yours. Your fate was sealed, there was no return now. He grabbed at your hips harshly, digging his fingers into you with desperation and lust. He lifted you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked over to his desk, leaving your lips for a moment to push whatever was on it onto the floor. It all hit the floor and made a loud crashing noise. He placed you onto the desk, continuing his heated attack of your lips.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long, baby.”

He said in between kisses. Working on your wrap around skirt and tights. You lifted yourself off the desk so he could slide your garments off. Leaving you in your underwear and tank top.

“You have no idea how crazy you’ve made me. How many sins I’ve done in your favour.”

His lips crashed back onto yours. You started thinking of your career as you heard him removing his belt. Preparing yourself for what was to come. He pushed your upper body down onto the desk, making your head dip over the edge of the desk. You looked at his office upside down, staring at the expensive painting hanging on the wall. You felt him sliding your underwear to the side.

“What a pretty pussy you have, baby.”

He said before sliding himself into you, making you moan as you felt yourself being filled up.

“Better than I ever imagined.”

He groaned as he started to slowly move. You continued to look at the painting of the ballerina with a bouquet in her hands bowing down in a gracious pose. Your hands found his forearms, digging your nails into his skin. Your breath got heavy as you felt his speed increase.

But still you focused on the ballerina. You imagined it was you. Maybe that would be you after this. Bowing deeply to the applause of hundreds, maybe even thousands of people in the audience. They all applauding you. You moaned loudly once he hit a good spot.

“You like that? You want it, huh?”

“Yes.”

You said in a shaky voice. You wanted this, you wanted this more than anything. This was all worth it in the end. You would be a star, a prima ballerina. Someone little girls looked up to, and adults wanted to be. You would be like that ballerina in the painting. Gracious and beautiful in every way. Everything you ever aspired to be. Everything you were meant to be.

“God, I’m gonna-“

You belonged here. On that desk. In that studio. Alone on a stage, bowing to the audience after the greatest performance of their lives. You were Mr. Park’s new prima ballerina.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

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outsideratheart · 9 months

Text

Time Has No Concept (Ingrid Engen x reader)

It may not have officially been winter but that didn’t stop the -5 degrees feel any warmer. You always said you liked the cold weather or at least you weren’t bothered by it. Today was a true test of that.

Walking out for the pitch inspection you only have one thing on your mind or more specifically one person.

“It hasn’t even been a week” Keira tries to tease you but fails because you don’t bite.

“I don’t care. I spend every day with her in Barcelona so when we’re apart a day is like a week.”

It was true. It didn’t take much for you to miss Ingrid. You moved to Barcelona after the euros and quickly became friends with Ingrid. It stayed like that way until you won the Champions league. It was a night to be remember for more reason than one.

Lucy and Keira agreed to go with you to Ingrid as she was with Caro and Ada.

“Tell me why you, a Norwegian native, are wearing more layers than me?”

“Because I’m not a human heater” Ingrid opens your arms and makes herself comfy.

“Hello my love” you look down at her, fully disregarding the company around you.

“Are you nervous?” Ingrid asks as she sees a crack in your confident persona.

On game days you were serious, locked in and there was little anybody could do to steer you from this mindset. Ingrid however had the unexplainable ability to see through it and as she stands on the pitch in your arms she sees her girlfriend, not the England captain.

“About the game, of course not” you wink playfully “about what comes after, a little bit. I just want to make a good impression”

“Pull back your shots and maybe you will”

Ingrid knew you would never do as she asked so isn’t surprised when she gets a scoff as her reply. The two of you stay together in each others arms for a few more minutes as you involve yourselves in the conversation between Lucy and Ada.

It was very well known that you hated wearing base layers but it was advised to put one on gor the game given that it might snow was forecast. That didn’t stop you from removing the thermal layer within the first ten minutes when you saw their goalkeeper go down. At half time most of them put a second base layer on and an extra pair of gloves whereas you opted for a cup of tea instead.

The post match team huddle was one of the quickest in team history and the lap around the pitch that followed matched it. Only one or two England players remained on the pitch to thank the fans, you were one of them. Once the last photo was taken your attention shifted to a different kind of fan.

There she stood talking animatedly with two people who you recognised from the time Ingrid FaceTimed home whilst staying at your apartment.

“Y/N!” The younger boy, Ingrid’s nephew you think, shouts.

“Look at you” Ingrid cannot believe you are standing next to her in the now -8 degrees, maybe even colder, in only shorts and a shirt. No base layers, no gloves, no coat “You’re going to get a cold”

“You forget that I don’t get sick, it’s my superpower. Besides, I’ll have you to keep me warm” you are millimetres away from kissing her when you are interrupted.

“Y/N, please can I have your shirt?”

“No”

“Yes”

Much to Ingrid’s dismay you give her nephew your shirt. He takes his coat off and quickly puts your shirt on over Ingrid’s. The smile on his face rivals the Cheshire cat’s and you whisper in your girlfriend’s ear that the look on his face makes it worth it.

Ingrid holds her jacket open and pulls you close as you chat away to her brother about the game, happy with the fact that the two of you get along well and that you will have a familiar face when you meet everybody else a little bit later. It is only when she feels you shivering against her does she politely end the conversation so that you can go inside the stadium.

“Shower, please. No ice baths. We can go on a recovery walk tomorrow” your girlfriend knew your post match routine well at this point but prayed that tonight you would stray without any arguments.

“Yes ma’am” you salute her before doing as your told.

Almost two hours later you were pulling up to Ingrid’s parents house. Ingrid seemed confident that her family would like you. The way she grabbed your hand and led you into her childhood home did ease the nerves building inside you.

Luckily for you, Ingrid’s nephew is the first to see you and pulls you over to show you his Legos. You can’t believe that you are using a child as a shield against her family.

The protection doesn’t last long because your girlfriend soon calls you over to her parents. You had practiced this speech plenty of times in the mirror.

Mr and Mrs Engen, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.

Yet when you get within a meters distance of them you freeze. These are two of the most important people in your girlfriend’s life and making a good impression on them is a must.

They stare at you for what feels like an eternity and you can also feel Ingrid’s eyes on you too. Another thing you notice in the corner of your eye is the smirk that is tugging at her lips.

“You were right. In person she isn’t anything like she is on the pitch” her father says.

Still you are frozen. Do you slip the player switch on and play the confidence card? No, that might be too much and they’d know it’s an act.

“Hyggelig å møte deg” you hold your hand out for both her father and her mother.

Their eyes widen and you don’t know if it’s in shock or horror. Your girlfriend’s silence didn’t help either.

“I said nice to meet you, right?”

Ingrid leans in and kisses your check.

“Elskling, it was perfect” Ingrid compliments you.

“She is right. The pronunciation was very good”

“Ingrid didn’t say you knew Norwegian” her father adds.

“Our team mate Caroline has been teaching me after training”

Ingrid knew you had been having lessons with Caro, you had told her that much. She just assumed it was Spanish because of how quickly you picked up the native language of your new club. Never in a million years did she think you’d be learning her language.

The four of you talk for a little while. You get to know Ingrid’s parents and they ask all sorts of questions. They are mainly football and life in Barcelona related. You don’t get the hurt my daughter and I’ll kill you speech but you suspect they are waiting until you’re alone for that.

After the introductions you retake your place on the floor with Ingrid’s nephew. His company you found a lot less intimidating. Her parent’s are sat on the sofa behind you watching the tv with some of Ingrid’s other relatives but you aren’t bothered by their presence.

“Y/N” Ingrid shouts from the kitchen where she is helping her brother with the food.

“Yes, my love” you reply.

Ingrid’s parents share a look that you don’t see. Was the nickname you had given their daughter part of your English charm or were you really in love with her.

“So you love our daughter?” Ingrid’s father asks rather boldly.

“Pappa!” Ingrid comes to your rescue just in time.

The three important words had not been said but the feeling was there.

“I do” when you stand to your feet you feel betrayed by your body and mouth.

“You do?” Ingrid face is the picture of shocked.

“I do” you whisper softly “I think I’ve know for a while. Everything was made clear in the summer. I was heartbroken but you took me in your arms and held me until I was whole again”

There it was. The admission that you, for some unknown reason, had been scared to make.

Ingrid didn’t care that her family was surrounding her. She kissed you with the same passion as the kisses you share at home. It may not be an intense kiss but it is enough to convey her feelings.

“I love you, I really do”

What comes over you, you have no idea but you lean back in for another kiss, a peck. The public display of affection does earn a fake gagging sound by her brother before he announces dinner is ready and served. You do have to hold back a laugh when he goes the extra lengths to let everyone know he did it without his sister’s help.

Later that night you get another hot shower to warm you up. Maybe your girlfriend was right about you getting sick.

The two of you lay in Ingrid’s teenage room.

“Did you really mean what you said earlier?” Your girlfriend asks you.

“What did I say earlier?”

Hearing this Ingrid sits up and slaps you on the chest. The impact send you into a coughing fit.

“Don’t play with me. Also, you’re getting sick. Take these”

You are handed two tablets which you take happily despite your stubbornness.

“I meant it but I thought it was too soon and I didn’t want to scare you away. How was I suppose to tell you I love you after only being dating for a month, in fact we weren’t even dating, not officially”

“You knew after a month?”

“You think it’s too much. You see, this is why I didn’t want to tell you”

Your brain went into overdrive as you began overthinking your decision.

“It’s not too much Y/N. I met you a year ago yet I feel like I’ve known you a lot longer. I would shock myself at how easy I would open up to you. When it comes to you it’s like time has no concept”

Nobody has ever spoken about you in that way. You were never anyone’s person until you met Ingrid.

“Jeg elsker deg” Ingrid pecks you on the lips “Jeg elsker deg”

When you fall asleep that night you do so with a huge smile on your face and a sense of calmness that you very rarely feel.

The next morning Ingrid wakes up to the sound of you coughing, or more accurately barking, in the bathroom.

“I’m sick” you admit when you see Ingrid standing behind you in the mirror.

“Come on I’ll make you some broth that will have you feeling good as new in no time”

“You don’t have to. I’ve taken some more medicine, I’m ok”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to and it’s what I do for the people I love”

#Ingrid Engen x reader #Ingrid Engen one shot #Ingrid Engen imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #barcelona femeni one shot #norwnt x reader #norwnt imagine #norwnt one shot

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chaoticladyfire · 1 year

Text

Things I screamed about in ATSV (spoilers)

-Got to rewatch the film so I’m just going to add the colours changing to warmer tones when Gwen hugs her father. Not even ten minutes in and I was already crying.

-Realised that we missed the Gwen-Vulture fight BUT got to see Jessica Drew enter the scene like a bad ass in her bad ass bike and hearing the audience collectively say ‘me too’ when Gwen asked if Jessica could adopt her.

-Screaming OSCAR ISAAC when Miguel spoke

-Lyla. Just Lyla.

- ‘Do you say anything other than no?’ ‘No-YES!’ more of miguel and jessica pls

-The Spot’s introduction. I didn’t see any promotional stuff, teasers or even trailers before watching this film so I had no idea who or what the The Spot was which was great because he really went from villain of the week to villain of the movie. And they clearly had a great time choreographing the fight scenes with him

-Miles’ heating up the beef patty while the spot and the convenience store man argue

-Miles patting the spot’s with a ‘good cow’ text

-Gwen and Miles both having to deepen their voices to avoid being recognised by their respective cop dads

-Miles saying that he can get two cakes when the counsellor says you can’t have your cake and eat it too and then bringing two cakes for his father’s party and neither of them saying what he wanted to convey.

-Rio and Jeff scolding an annoyed miles but instantly smiling when a relative hugs them what an universal experience

-Gwen teasing Miles for drawing her in his notebook almost obsessively but also breaking the biggest rule to spend time with him knowing the consequences.

-As they went to talk, my friend leaned over and said ‘yeah I bet they will talk’ and when they only talked he groaned very loudly at which point I had to remind him Miles was only 15

-Watching Jeff talk to Spiderman about his son not knowing his son is spiderman

-The DJ increasing the volume when Miles’ parents started scolding him in the middle of the party (the real mvp of the movie actually)

-JK Simmons cameo that no one seems to be talking about??? Embarrassingly enough I had to literally scream into my friend’s ear for most of the people to realise it was indeed JK Simmons

-Just the entire Mumbattan scene. It was so exciting to see my city be represented like that, still a bit cliched in my opinion but not like Slumdog so obviously they have updated their views. Everything from the traffic gag to Pav’s rant about chai tea had the theatre howling. Also the detail of the thought boxes (?) and sounds being written in Hindi

-Screaming DANIEL KALUUYA

-My friend and I are huge fans of the UK punk scene (her for the ideologies and myself for the music and fashion) so Hobie was a dream come true. He was already super cool with his guitar and mohawk costume but when he revealed his face it was just so amazing

-Gayatri is every indian’s dream girl with her modern shirt-flannel and jeans combo mixed with bangles and piercings I really wish we get to see more of her in the next movie. Anyway there was a lot of wolf-whistling and hooting for her and Pav

-Also Pavitr literally means pure I don’t know if they did that on purpose or not but I love it

-His pet name being Pav cured my soul

-’This is the most emotional I have seen him’ and Captain Singh has no emotions at all

-I want to see how they came up with so many spider designs because each was so unique and immediately endearing. My friend who is also a big dinosaur fan screamed DINOSAUR

-Kind of obsessed with how detailed Ben Reilly’s arms are they did not need to go that hard with it

-Tom Holland’s Spider-Man being referred to as ‘the little nerd’ by Miguel

-When everyone was making puns about the Spot my friend leaned over and said ‘i wonder which hole the spot prefers’ it is a miracle we are still friends actually

-The Donald Grover cameo!!!

-Peter B Parker having a cute little baby with the love of his life is what he deserves

-Miguel O Hara is one step away from becoming a Batman-Spiderman

-Hobie’s admiration for Mayday being the avatar of chaos Spider-baby

-Screaming ANDY SAMBERG

-I think they saw the appreciation for the art style in the previous film and then trebled it for this film and I cannot thank them enough for it

-Peter complaining about how Miguel breaks the Spiderman tradition of being funny and witty and Miguel being the first anomaly

-Every scene with the Spot is very unnerving because as I said, you watch him transform from this joker to a literal void of vengeance and it is every bit of terrifying

-Miguel is a man suffering from the destruction of an entire universe because of his selfish actions and forcing that anomaly narrative on a fifteen year old boy who became a spiderman on accident and doesn’t want his father to die because of that. Unlike the Spot, who isn’t even human anymore, Miguel is drowning in grief and guilt and trying to ignore it by holding the weight of the spider-verse on his shoulder. I hated him so much for making a boy go through that but then I just couldn’t in the end.

-Andrew Garfield and Tobey Maguire cameo!!! Hopefully we’ll get a fun Tom Holland one too in the next movie.

-’Let me guess, he died?’ being a therapist for Spider Men must be a fairly boring job after a few patients.

-I just loved the absolute of wrongness of the scene where Miles returns ‘home’. The rain and darkness. I didn’t really think about Rio asking Miles what happened to his hair because I thought she was referring to the rain (although of course she wouldn’t ask him why his hair was wet when it was obviously raining outside) but realised something was wrong when he didn’t know about comic con but she did because in the first film there’s a joke about Peter B Parker explaining the concept to Miles.

- This movie is not good for my father related issues

-The glaring neon welcome sign when the gang end up in Earth 42

-How did Uncle Aaron get even scarier?

-Miles being the Prowler is honestly a great twist I saw it coming but still felt the shock of the reveal

-Prowler Miles having an accented voice meaning his father probably died when he was young and he only had his mom growing up

-Can’t wait for the original spider team to return for the third film seeing as they brought back Spider-Man Noir and Spider Ham and Peni Parker

-Screaming WHAT when the ‘to be continued’ appeared because that cliffhanger is absolutely destructive. All that adrenaline and excitement just popped. I’m still oscillating between being impressed and being disappointed.

I probably skipped over a lot of other scenes because these were the most memorable and I only watched the film once (unfortunate) but I can’t wait for the movie to hit streaming services and watch it again and again for all the other details I missed. Ill probably keep adding things as I remember

#across the spiderverse #atsv #miles morales #gwen stacy #hobie #pavitr #miguel o'hara #jessica drew #peter b parker #the ultimate spiderman #spiderman #spiderman noir #spider ham #rio morales #prowler

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braxlrose · 1 year

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i read your tom kaulitz weird and silly headcanons and i can't stop laughing 😭 wtf it's 4 am.. anyway will you do the same headcanons only with bill, pretty please?🤭 i know one hundred percent that this little bastard isn't so innocent what he looks like.. i'm sure he's as dirty as Tom 😭 btw sorry engilsh is not my first language ☠️ Greetings from Poland!!:)

(his skirt is so cute?!?)

Cześć jeszcze raz! Rzadko spotykam Polaków, więc cieszy mnie możliwość ćwiczenia języka polskiego!

also his skirt is super cute omg

silly and weird bill headcanons

cw: mentioned oral(f and m!recieving), making out, nipple play?, etc

-you are completely right, this mf is far from innocent 💀 tom is seen as the dirty minded one but this little shit would make the most dirty fucking jokes every and then act all innocent LIKE BITCH

-he's also passive aggressive. like very passive aggressive. pookie can't help it 😪

-the first time you, him and tom all got high together he got super paranoid and thought that you guys were all just figments of a dog's imagination

-when you guys are spooning, he reaches underneath your shirt and cups your boobs. it helps him fall asleep quicker apparently

-but sometimes when he's feeling like a little shit, he'll tweak and pull at your nipples and you have to slap him away. so then you make him promise not to do it again. spoiler alert. he does it again 😐

-hes an impatient mf so the amount he's burned his tongue after heating up a pop tart 😒 like bitch..just wait the two fucking minutes

-he loves kissing your temple and your forehead

-during the winter, if his hands are cold he asks if he can put his hand in your pants. 💀 like that's his exact words. "Can I put my hand down your pants?" he says it's because you're warmer down there than he is, but I think it's just cuz he's a dirty minded little fuck

-when cooking marshmallows over the fire, it's a 50/50 thing. Sometimes he's super patient and will wait and make his marshmallows a crispy, perfect golden brown color and other times he gets to lazy and will just shove it in the fire.

-he also thinks it's like the coolest thing in the entire world when his whole marshmallow is on fire

-he didn't know how to snap until he was like 16 and always got mad whenever tom could do it 😭

-he was super happy when he realized that he was the taller twin bc tom was allllwayyss talking about how he was 10 minutes older.

-YOU GUYS GOT MATCHING TATTOOS

-he literally loves getting matching tattoos with you, he thinks it's so cute and fucking loves it. somehow he convinced the both of you to get some dumb ones 💀

-when you two were little kids he used to beg the teacher to make you, him and tom partners. lil bro would get down on his knees

-speaking of getting down on his knees, the first time he went down on you he "accidentally" 🤨 bit your clit. I still say he did it on purpose though

-you guys know that thing that Gomez does with Morticia when she reaches her arms to the side and he kisses from her finger tips to the other finger tips? yall know what I'm talking about? WELL BILL DOES THAT

-he likes to sleep naked sometimes. because it's "better for sleeping" but I think it's just because he wants to sleep next to naked you.

-almost drowned tom at the pool 💀...multiple times

-him and tom make you sit by the pool and then make you tell them who's cannon ball was better. and this isn't just a like 16 yr old boy thing. they do this at 33 too.

-bill once stood up upside-down on a keg and drank it 😧. not the whole thing but it was super crazy. you later found out it was because tom didn't think he would do it

-he once jerked off in class and found a way so nobody would notice him EXCEPT YOU 😨 MF YOU WERE TRAUMATIZED

-he also doesn't know how to lock a door. so you'll just walk in and he'll be jerking off, or you'll turn a corner in his house and he'll be jerking off, you go to use the bathroom and he'll be jerking off. "I'm a teenage boy it's what we do!" BRUH GET A HOBBY

-if you don't know german, he'll randomly say dirty stuff to you in german. BUT THEN PROCEED TO GET MAD AT TOM IF HE TEACHES YOU BAD WORDS IN GERMAN 🙄

-he loves sitting in your lap when making out. like obviously he loves it when you sit in his lap, but he LOVES when he gets to sit on top of you and kiss you

-the first time he tried to give you hickies, he wasn't completely sure how to and ended up biting you 💀

-he's not a morning person, we all know this. so if you want to get him out of bed, you will have to drag him out by his feet.

-his dick is big. we all know this, but the first time you tried to give him oral, he accidentally slapped your face w/ his dick 😭

ANYWAYYSSS TY SM FOR THE REQUEST POOKIE I HOPE MY POLNISCH WASNT TOO BAD

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @dead-tapes @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles

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a-coffee-addict-613 · 6 months

Text

Cold hands - Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader, a short fic

Summary : reader's hands are cold and Ghost is tired of hearing her complain about it, so he offers to warm them up for her so she will shut up; except he gets more than he expected...

CW: smut, that's it; oh and bad language

"It's cold as hell," she whispered into the night. Ghost stood beside her; they were both keeping watch while the others slept in their tents a bit farther behind them.

"Freaking hell, my hands are like ice blocks, I'm freezing," she said shortly after her last comment. This had been going on for a while; she had been constantly complaining about being cold, or at least that was how Ghost was experiencing it.

"Stop complaining," he said, short and cold, almost like an order, cutting through the air.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not trained for this stuff like you guys, so I have the right to complain," she huffed, trying to bury her nose underneath her scarf.

"That's not how it works," he replied with a sigh.

After that, she did not say anything more, but she was still getting on Ghost's nerves because she couldn't keep still, rocking up and down on her heels, pacing around, and constantly blowing on her hands to try to warm them up.

Ghost let out an inaudible groan and begrudgingly said, "If I find a way to warm you up a bit, will you shut up and stop moving?" He didn't even deign himself to look at her.

"Dude, if you do that, I think I'd marry you," she laughed, blowing on her hands for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Just stop," he said, and with that, he grabbed one of her wrists and guided it to his abdomen where he had lifted up his shirt. After all, body heat is the most efficient way to warm up.

She hesitated, even if she was yearning to put her hands on Ghost's perfect abs. "Are you sure...?" she mumbled, looking up at Ghost. They were so close now; she had never stood so close to Ghost in a non-combat way.

He did not answer, only hummed and tugged on her wrist again, still in his grasp, to bring it even closer to his bare skin. She did not hesitate this time; she splayed both hands on his hot skin, and she could not contain herself; his warmth thawed out her fingers almost instantly, and a small sigh of relief escaped her mouth.

He couldn't help but smile at the way she sighed when his warmth reached her hands, despite the shiver that coursed through his body. He was glad the mask hid his smile; he couldn't afford a distraction like her, even if she *was* a pretty distraction.

"Hurry," he huffed out instead, the sooner she was done, the sooner he would be rid of her hold on him, one he couldn't seem to shake off.

"Fine, fine," she all but brushed him off. She moved her hands further up, grazing his ribs, searching for warmer skin. This time, she felt the chill that crossed his skin. Little did she know that it was not the cold that made him shiver.

"Careful," his voice cut through the air; it had a dangerous undertone that made her look up and look into his eyes for the first time since they started this whole thing.

This time, it was she who did not answer; she simply decided to head in the opposite direction. And so, ever so slowly, she slid her hand back down to their starting place, but she did not stop there; she continued further down, over his V. She did all this while maintaining eye contact with Ghost, a bold move because, honestly, he could be quite intimidating.

She kept going, allowing her hand to fall to his belt. After two beats of hesitation and due to the fact that Ghost remained unmoving, she unbuckled his belt, popped open his pants, and slithered her hands inside. Inside his boxers, not his pants.

Upon her still freezing hands making contact with his soft cock and balls, which she cupped with both hands, it broke Ghost's stone-cold demeanor. He hissed loudly and let out, "That's freezing, Doc," his British accent thicker than usual.

"I'm just following your orders, Lieutenant," she answered cheekily, her eyes holding a mischievous smile. She used one of her now warm hands to cup his balls while the other traveled to wrap around his cock, which was now not so soft. She began stroking it leisurely, slowly making it harder by the second, her hand squeezing his head each time her fist traveled up, her thumb stroking it every time.

"You are playing a dangerous game," Ghost whispered, but despite his words, he brought both hands up to rest on her hips.

"My hands are warm now, but.... I think that my lips are cold; maybe you could help me with that too..." she murmured, a small smile on her face, as if she wasn't asking permission to do such an obscene thing.

There was a small silence, one where Ghost was having an inner struggle, but eventually his non-logical brain won, and with a groan, he said, "Be quick about it."

She did not need him to say it twice; she dropped to her knees, no longer caring about the cold ground hitting her knees. All she cared about was finally doing something that she had fantasized about for so long.

A/N : part 2 is posted !

#smut #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut #ghost x reader smut #simon riley x reader smut

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pickingupmymercedes · 3 months

Note

can you for a blurb or something like going on a trip with lewis and like and just soft stuff, like sitting by the fire and staying close to keep warm and making memories

maybe something like this for a dialogue

"Can you hear the owls?” "Yeah, but I’m more interested in the sound of your voice."

Can you imagine 48hrs with that man and no form of outside communication?!

Btw this is the sfw and fluff version, but there's surely a nsfw (writer's cut) edition if you guys are interested.

"Can you hear the owls?” and "Yeah, but I’m more interested in the sound of your voice."

The crackling fire in the stone hearth casted shadows across the walls of the tiny cabin.

Y/N, nestled against Lewis on the worn leather sofa, let out a contented sigh. Forty-eight hours of no phones, no internet, no outside world distractions – it had been a strange, yet surprisingly liberating experience from the relentless demands of their daily schedule.

"Can you believe it?" she said, her voice barely a whisper. "It feels like an eternity since we've had time like this."

Lewis, his chin resting on her head, chuckled softly. "Agreed. Just… us."

Y/N hummed in agreement, shifting slightly to get a better view of the flickering flames. "Although I wish I had my phone to get a picture of that elk herd, did you notice? And that waterfall we stumbled upon? It was like something out of a painting."

She launched into a detailed description of their day's hike, pointing out landmarks on the mental map she'd constructed in her head. Lewis listened patiently, a smile playing on his lips.

He knew most of the details already – they'd spent the entire day together, after all – but it was the way her eyes lit up while she recounted the adventure that captivated him.

As she spoke, Lewis noticed her hands tucked away under her arms, a telltale sign she was starting to feel cold. He reached out, intertwining their fingers.

Suddenly, an ear-splitting hoot shattered the peaceful silence. Y/N flinched, her eyes widening comically.

"Can you hear the owls?" she whispered, her voice tinged with a hint of fear.

Lewis chuckled again, the sound warm and reassuring. "Yeah, but I'm more interested in the sound of your voice," he teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

His words sent a blush creeping up Y/N's cheeks. She opened her mouth to retort, but a loud, guttural hoot from outside the cabin cut her off. Y/N flinched, a startled squeak escaping her lips.

Lewis chuckled again, the sound warm and reassuring. "Scared you there, did it?"

Y/N covered her face with her free hand, a sheepish grin peeking through. "A bit. That… that sounded like a pterodactyl!"

Lewis reached out and pulled her hand away from her face, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Pterodactyls? Really, Y/N?"

She shrugged, a playful smile on her lips. "Hey, I don't know what they sound like!"

He pulled her body closer, his warmth embracing her. "It's okay," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. "They're just owls. They're more interested in catching mice than snacking on hikers."

Y/N sighed contentedly, her eyelids growing heavy the warmer she got. As her voice trailed off into a comfortable silence, Lewis noticed her breathing slow and even. He looked down to see her fast asleep, her head resting peacefully on his chest. Without a second thought, he tucked both her hands inside his sweater, enveloping them in his warmth.

Lewis couldn't help but smile as he marveled at how quickly she'd adapted to the digital detox he had suggested merely a month prior. Her voice replacing the endless stream of notifications that usually dominated their lives.

He traced a gentle finger along her cheek, enjoying the soft texture of her skin as he took in the moment. Her figure completely at ease as she used him as her personal pillow and warmer, the fireplace to their cabin a reminder they didn’t need much when they got each other.

"See" he whispered, more to himself than to her. "Told you we’d have a good time up here."

He leaned in, his lips brushing the top of her head. "Thank you," he whispered, the words meant for both the owls and the woman who had stolen his heart. They weren't just words of gratitude for the weekend though; they were a heartfelt confession for the way she grounded him, for the way she brought a sense of serenity into his otherwise chaotic world.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf @priopp123 @jajouska

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#Ella500 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lh #lh44 #lewis #lewis x reader #lewis imagine #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 imagine #lewis hamilton x you

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a-killer-obsession · 12 days

Text

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 10 - Terms and Conditions

Now that you're part of the crew, it's time to set some ground rules.

WC: 4k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

You sat sleepily in Heat's lap, well, not his lap really, more like the middle of his tail. It was coiled in a tight spiral, your rump sat firmly atop it, your back pressed against his warm chest and his warm arms around your center. His naturally hot body temperature soothed the aches you still had from yesterday, he was taking such good care of you, knowing how worn out you were from taking most of the crew. He graciously hadn't attempted to mount you, but he hovered close by, which was welcomed given his sweet doting and care you were very much in need of. Your joints ached from the positions you'd been in for such a long period of time and your pussy was raw and aching. You didn't speak more than needed and Killer had provided soft foods, knowing your jaw was stiff from all the pussy eating and cock sucking you'd done. You were happy though. You felt content, and finally safe and secure in your position here. Well, as safe as you could be, now that you were officially a pirate.

“Now then Mouse,” Kid grinned, “let's make things official, aye? We believe ya story now, or at least we're trying our best to. It's still hard to accept yer from another universe. But you've at least proven your usefulness to us, so ya can stay on the crew. How bout it, Mouse? Ya wanna join my crew?”

“Yes captain,” you smiled sleepily, “will my job here be as your… bed warmer?”

“Aye, you'll be our ship whore,” Kid smirked, “only for the four of us here though, unless we decide to give someone a night with ya as a reward. You good with that?”

“Yes captain, as long as my boundaries are respected,” you stated.

“Of course lass,” Kid replied, “Wire will draw up a contract for ya later. He's the most knowledgeable here, he'll make sure your boundaries are laid out for us. Everyone we let have you will be made clear of your conditions. You're still up for the four of us free using you, aye? It was your original offer. I did let you live, after all.”

“Within limits, yeah,” you responded, trying to not let your lust-addled brain distract you from an important conversation. Being free used by four big, strong, attractive, well endowed men? Ohhhh what a horror, the worst thing you could imagine. “I like what we've got going on. Will I be given a share of the loot like the others?”

“Of course lass,” Kid chuffed, “if anything you'll be paid better. You'll be saving us a great deal of money by servicing us instead of having to spend money on island whores. We'll give you your own room, for convenience. Everyone else shares but the four of us, but I'm not sure anyone is keen on losing sleep whenever we have need of ya. There's a lounge in the castle we barely use, we'll have it cleared out for ya. We're on our way back to Sabaody as we speak, you can go to the shops and get whatever you need to get set up once we dock. We'll back pay you for your time since ya started servicing us.”

“Thank you captain,” you replied gratefully. You didn't expect him to pay you for your time as a prisoner. “That's generous of you. I won't let you down.”

“You'll probably find your bed doesn't get much use, unless you're in need of a break,” Kid continued with a chuckle, “but it'll give you somewhere to keep your shit anyway.

“Speaking of resting,” you interjected, “I had a bit of an idea. In terms of the free-using. I was wondering if you'd make me a more long term wearable collar, something that won't irritate my skin, thin perhaps. With a tag that has your jolly roger. I thought maybe we could use it as a signal, if I'm not wearing the collar then I'm in need of rest.”

“EXCELLENT IDEA!” Kid roared, spooking you a little as he thumped his fist against the table, “I'll make ya a collar that'll make everyone jealous of ya!”

“Thank you, captain,” you smiled, nuzzling sleepily against Heat's bicep.

“Tired, Mouse?” Kid smirked.

“Mmm,” you mumbled, “I feel like I'm hungover from yesterday. Drunk on dick I guess. And pussy.”

Killer and Wire snorted while Kid made a boisterous laugh. “Before you fall asleep,” Killer jumped in, “is there anything we need to know for the immediate future?”

“Mmm,” you mumbled, trying to sit upright, to which Heat helped you, nuzzling his face against your back, “you need to get the ship coated before Ace's execution, cos after that the only coater I know will be busy.”

“Where do we find him?” Wire asked.

“You're all familiar with the coater already, in fact you met him the other day,” you alluded, “Silvers Rayleigh, he can coat the ship. You'll find him, or at least his wife, Shakky, in grove thirteen at Shakky's Rip-Off Bar. You unintentionally helped his friend rescue that mermaid by helping the Straw Hats escape, so he should be amenable to coating the ship.”

“He's the coater?” Kid exclaimed, “the fuck is the ‘Dark King’ doing coating ships?”

“Paying for his alcoholism, mostly,” you yawned, making the others snort laughs.

“Alright then Sleeping Beauty,” Kid laughed, before his smile fell to a more serious expression, “we don't have to worry about this whole execution shit, right?”

“There'll be a war, but your crew won't be involved,” you replied, “it'll all happen over at the marine base. You'll just see it on a screen on Sabaody.”

“Alright then,” Kid huffed, pleased and relieved with your answer. It was no secret that there was tension in the air regarding the execution and whether returning to Sabaody was even safe tight now. There were reports that Whitebeard was on the move to save Ace, and it made Kid uneasy, but he trusted your prediction, you hadn't let him down thus far. “Go get some rest then princess, we promise we'll behave till you're up to it. I'll have that collar for ya before your pussy is ready to get destroyed again.”

Kid winked as he stood and grabbed a boob as he passed by, making you squeal and slap his hand playfully as the captain chuckled. You started to stand as well, but Heat swung you onto his back to carry you, making you giggle as you grabbed his horns for support. “Giddy up!” You laughed. He pretended to buck you, which only made you giggle more, Killer shaking his head with a grin under his mask as Heat carried you out. He and Heat were in high spirits, overly relieved and happy that your story had been proven true and you got to stay. You'd promised Heat to do some sunbathing with him on top of the dinosaur skull while the sun was out, it was a good excuse for a nap and a cuddle really.

You hopped off Heat's back as he made it up, he was surprisingly fast and agile in this form. It'd made you curious as to why he didn't use this form more, to which he had told you that it ‘wasn't polite’ to go around in that form, whatever that meant. Maybe it was like how zoan fruit users usually stayed in their human form? Heat laid down first, making a pleased grunt as his head rested on the pillow he'd chucked up here earlier, his long tail stretching along the skull like an arrow pointed at the distant Sabaody that hovered on the horizon.

“I'm really glad you get to stay,” Heat hummed as you got comfy next to him, resting your head on his chest, tucked into the crook of his armpit.

“Yeah, me too,” you murmured back with a big yawn. Heat gave you a soft smile and a little squeeze before the yawn caught him too.

“Alright, ready to get started?” Wire asked, tapping the tip of the feathered pen against the page in front of him, “I've made a list of kinks the crew like to indulge in. You just let me know which ones you're comfortable with. Ready?”

“Yup!” You smiled back sweetly, leaning forward and resting your face in your palm, your elbow against the table. It was just you and Wire in the navigation room, he didn't want you to have the pressure of the others watching you and potentially pressuring you into things you weren't comfortable with.

“First item - free use for the four commanders, under the circumstances that your collar is on. That much I know you're good with, but what about outside of that?” He asked.

“A big maybe,” you replied, “I'm a regular woman without the collar. If they can seduce me, sure. But I reserve the right to deny them without consequence.”

“Okay, seems reasonable,” he replied, the pen making scratching noises as he jotted it down, “I have a list of things you've already participated in, so I'll just run through them quickly so you can confirm them for the contract. Touching of all body parts, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, cunnilingus, blow jobs, deep throating, face fucking, use of strap on, cum on body including face and genitals and inclusive of female cum, cum in mouth, creampies. Threesome, degradation, praise, bathing together, face riding, both giving and receiving, those are the basics, yes to all of the above?”

“Can we make an amendment for no cum near my eyes?” You asked him, “otherwise yes to everything else.”

“No cum near eyes, got it,” he wrote on the page, “the next set is things you've done that are on the more intense side. Gangbang, bukkake, self-wetting, humiliation, somnophilia, exhibitionism, bondage, pet play and master/servant dynamics, both as dominant and submissive. Amenable to all of those?”

“Somnophilia is the sleep one, yeah?” You queried.

“Aye,” Wire confirmed.

“Okay, yeah that's fine,” you confirmed, “but um… I don't want Heat watching me use the toilet anymore. And I'm not eating out of a bowl or shitting in a litterbox.”

“Noted,” Wire replied, scribbling that down, “you were fine with the self-wetting though? What about other watersports?”

“I've never tried but, I'm not not curious,” you replied unsurely, “the self-wetting was… enlightening.”

“I'll put it down as a maybe, for future experimentation. You can change your mind later if you want, same goes for anything on this list,” Wire assured you, “now for the requests. Anal fingering, mouth to ass, anal sex. Receiving and giving. Thoughts?”

“Yeah, those are fine. I've done a few on the giving end as well, but I guess that person wanted to keep it to himself,” you noted, “just uh… only receiving the whole way with proper lubrication. No spit as lube bullshit unless it's only fingers.”

“Got it,” Wire confirmed, “next up, use of toys such as dildos and vibrators, use of nipple clamps, impact play, with hands and equipment. Bondage such as shibari, cuffs, bed, wall and furniture mounted restraints. Sensory deprivation. Tickling. Forced orgasms. Edging. Thoughts?”

“No to the tickling, limited to impact play. I'm not a fan of pain,” you explained, “light smacking is fine, but you can cross off anything too painful, otherwise yes to everything else.”

“I'll cross off knife play and hook suspension,” Wire said as his pen ran a line through several items, “next set. Foot play, non-con roleplay, softcore roleplay such as maid, fisting, sex under the influence of alcohol and drugs, use of purpose built furniture such as breeding benches, double penetration, of separate holes and of multiple cocks in one hole.” Wire looked at you expectantly, his pen paused over the page.

“Uhh, no to fisting,” you ran through the list in your head trying to make sure you remembered everything, “um… yes to one in the ass, one in the cunt. Maybe to two in my cunt, I've never tried. Definitely no to two in my ass.”

“I think you could manage two in one,” Wire smirked, “as long as I wasn't one of them. You took me so well.”

“Mmm, I certainly want to try,” you hummed, “quit reminding me of your big beefy cock or I won't be able to concentrate.”

“We're almost done,” Wire snorted and shook his head, “anything else not on this contract, we'll ask first. You'll be paid the same split as Heat and I get. You'll use the colour system for safe words regardless of if your collar is on or not. Green when prompted to go ahead, orange if something needs to change or you need a break, red if you need to stop. No consequences will come from using the safe words so please don't be afraid to use them. By signing this you agree to remain up to date with your birth control unless an explicit agreement is made to impregnate you, you may expect that from Heat or Killer, Kid and I aren't the type to want babies. If an accident happens, Kid promises not to kick you off the ship. The rest of the crew will keep their hands off you unless you give them permission, otherwise a maximum of once a week we may choose to allow them a night with you as a reward. You won't allow anyone outside of this ship to touch you without permission from your captain. You will remain on this crew unless relieved of your contract by the captain. You'll also be given regular STI screening, as the four of us do, and all other crewmates will be required to use protection with you. Do you agree to all these terms?”

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed, openly ogling Wire's muscular torso, “you wanna fuck?”

“Sign here first,” he shuffled the page over to you and you quickly signed it, biting your lip as he stood and rounded the table. He loomed over you from behind your chair, running his hand up your neck until his hand was sweeping your chin up, forcing you to look at him. You pushed aside the page with its drying ink and sat on the edge of the table, spreading your legs for Wire to slot between them.

“What happened to having a sore cunt?” Wire mused, running his thumb over your lower lip, pressing against the soft flesh. He was all for fucking you, he'd been thinking a lot about your tight cunt and wanted to take his time with you. He worried though that you were ignoring your limits.

“Well you see there's this thing called ‘remembering how fucking big and hot your cock is’ and unfortunately I'm no good at disagreeing with my pussy, she wants what she wants,” you purred back up at him, peeking out your tongue to lick his digit before taking it in your mouth, humming as you sucked his thumb.

“You're so cute when you're being submissive,” Wire grinned, replacing his thumb with his pointer and middle finger and gagging you with them, “I have been wanting to get a taste of that pretty cunt of yours. No collar though,” he hummed, running his finger down your neck and tracing a trail of saliva over where the collar would sit, “so I have to ask, can I taste you, princess?”

“Please do,” you huffed, pulling your legs up so your feet rested on the table, showing off your flexibility as you sat back. You'd never properly redressed after waking up, still just wearing one of Heat's old shirts, large enough to fit as a baggy dress on you, your pussy exposed and inviting underneath. You tugged on the hem of the shirt to reveal yourself to Wire, who hummed appreciatively as he ran his thumb between your folds.

“Already wet for me,” Wire cooed as he knelt, “such a good girl.”

He kissed your thighs softly, making you giggle, before his teeth sunk into the soft flesh and the giggle turned to a moan. He nipped you a few more times before his tongue ran a fat stripe up your cunt, and your hand pushed away his hood to tug at his short hair. His tongue lapped against your pussy as he pulled your legs to rest over his shoulders, giving the occasional suck of your bud that made you whine. He was clearly enjoying himself as well, grunting against your cunt as his tongue bullied its way inside you, licking at your walls while his hand looped over your thigh to thumb your clit. You could feel his pointed sideburns against your thighs as he ate you out, his thumb making small, firm circles on your bud as his thick tongue wiggled inside you.

“Oh fuck that's good,” you moaned, laying back against the table, “just like that, fuck.”

His other hand weaselled up under his chin, the end of his middle finger toying with your asshole and spreading the slick and spit that had rolled down around the ring before sinking in. There was a spark of electricity in your clit as his finger pushed inside your ass, not quite finger fucking you, just toying with your hole for extra stimulation. It made that coil in your stomach pull tight, your back arching off the table as you fisted his hair, holding him tight against you. You could feel the coy grin he made against your cunt, and you made the mistake of looking down, immediately catching his eyes that were watching you carefully from between your legs. Those fucking eyes, they always did something to you, and you threw back your head with a groan, cumming on his tongue, his finger forced out of your ass by the contractions your orgasm made.

He gave you a few more greedy licks that made you shiver before he stood, making a show out of unfastening his pants and laying his thick erection against your stomach as his shorts and briefs pooled at his ankles. He rut his cock between your folds, getting his shaft coated in slick and spit and rubbing against your over-stimulated clit. “You're so pretty like this, blissed out with my cock laying against you,” he noted, “pull your shirt up, I wanna see your tits.”

You obediently did as he asked in your post orgasm daze, squishing and kneading your tits for his enjoyment. He groaned as you pulled at your own nipples, your hips rolling to grind against his shaft on their own accord. “You want it bad, huh? Cute little bunny, horny little thing,” Wire purred, putting more force into the rutting. He took himself in his hand and pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, pushing only the tip in and stretching you out. That on its own was enough to make you whine and try to shift to take more of him. “So greedy, trying to get more already. I'm gonna have fun taking my time with you,” he teased, pulling his tip out and sinking it back in over and over, making you whine at the emptiness each time he removed himself.

“Please!” You begged, “want it, want it so bad.”

“Yeah? You want this?” He asked, suddenly sinking himself in, to what he knew was your limit, before entirely leaving you empty again, his cock rubbing against your clit. “Use your words baby.”

“Want- want your fat cock,” you whimpered, “want it splitting me open. Wanna feel you filling me, please.”

“Such a good girl,” Wire cooed, bullying his cock back inside you, but not moving any further. You only said you wanted it inside you, you never said anything about moving. Wire was a master of restraint, any of the others would have already been fucking your brains out by now, while he enjoyed watching you writhe against the table as he warmed his cock. “That feel good, baby? You like keeping my cock nice and warm?”

“Y-yes,” you whined, “feels so full, hnng. Fuck me Wire, please, please please please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he toyed, before pulling out most of the way and slamming back in, prompting a scream from you at the sudden heavy thrust. He did it over and over, pulling out slowly, then pushing in hard and fast, driving you insane as you got enough stimulation to feel incredible but never enough to sustain the building orgasm, and you got the feeling that was purposeful. Wire was only doing exactly as you asked, he was testing you, teasing you to see how far you would go to beg for it. You reached between your legs to rub your clit, but he quickly grabbed your wrists and folded them against your chest, pinning you down.

“Please,” you begged, “more, please, wanna cum on your cock so bad.”

“How bad do you want it?” Wire teased, “what are you gonna give me in return?”

“Anything!” You cried, “please, anything, please fuck me harder!”

“You're gonna let me frost your face, and you're gonna wear it for the rest of the day,” Wire growled, “you're not washing it off till bedtime. Everyone's gonna see what a little slut you are.”

“Yes! Yes!” You whined, trying and failing to fight his hold to try and fuck yourself with his cock, “please, please, please.”

“Good girl,” Wire praised, before finally committing to a hard and fast pace that had you shrieking and seeing stars. Your pussy made obscene squelches as he fucked it, Wire making grunts and tightening his grip on your arms as he used you like a cock sleeve, loving the way your pussy was already fluttering around him, so desperate to cum, choking his cock like it was desperate for him to breed you. “You gonna squirt for me, bunny? Gonna make a mess?”

“Y-yes,” you moaned, unable to escape his hold as he started to overstimulate you, making you dizzy as you felt your orgasm rushing at you. “C-cumming!” You shouted before your thighs clamped around him and shook hard, cum dripping off the side of the table and on to the rug below, some of it drenching his abdomen. His cock never stopped pumping you, the wet sounds now increased tenfold with the added lubrication while you squealed and writhed before finally stilling with a heavy pant.

“Good whore,” Wire purred, “such a good girl.” You barely heard what he was saying, practically lifeless against the table, all you could do was whimper pathetically. Wire got close to his own peak and pulled out, climbing onto the table and straddling your chest. He pumped his cock over you, pleased by the half-lidded puppy dog eyes you were giving him, too weak and fucked out to do more than lick the end of his cock or feebly suck on the tip when he pushed it between your lips. “Close your eyes sweetheart,” he cooed. No sooner had you closed them did he grunt, and you heard his palm hit the table next to your face for support as the first hot spurts of cum hit your face, aimed mostly for your lips and cheek, some of it getting in your hair. It was a large load, and you could already feel it start to drip as he panted, rolling off you to lay on the table beside you, his legs hanging over the edge while yours were folded up, feet against the edge, knees together and still shaking.

“What do you say?” He teased.

“Th-thank you,” you whined.

“Good girl,” he huffed, before surprising you with his softness as he linked his hand with yours, “you're gonna do well here, and we're gonna take good care of you.”

“Mmm,” you replied sleepily, resting your eyes for a moment and enjoying his warm hand encompassing yours. Later you would go to dinner with Wire's cum still coating your face, sitting in his lap so it was clear to everyone who's cum it was. Everyone told you how pretty you looked, and promised they'd paint you too soon.

[Next Chapter] - coming soon

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toomuchracket · 3 months

Text

melted ice (dad birthday party!matty x reader smut)

temp play for day 1 of summer75. really, what else is there to do on a summer evening after your daughter's gone to sleep, other than make a cocktail with your husband and let him go down on you? enjoy <3

matty's arms are warm when they wrap around your waist. his lips are even warmer when they meet your neck, eliciting a smile from your face as you continue to concentrate on measuring the gin you're pouring. “hi, baby,” you murmur, transferring the alcohol into one of the crystal whisky tumblers you got as a wedding present. “amy all tucked in?”

“kicked the covers off in her sleep as soon as i pulled them over her, but yeah,” your husband laughs softly into you, kissing your skin again before resting his chin on your shoulder. “what are we drinking tonight, darling?”

“negronis.”

“nice,” matty's smile is audible. he unwraps himself from you, and you mourn the loss of him instantly. “i'll get the ice. do we need prosecco too, or…?”

you shake your head. “nah. i think we keep it classic tonight, if that's alright with you.”

“‘course. oh!” matty gasps, and you turn in concern; he's smiling, though, and holding up a ziploc bag filled with dried blood oranges. “can tart the drinks up a bit with these, though, yeah?”

you giggle. “i love you.”

he grins, wandering over to you with the fruit in one hand and a tray of ice cubes in the other before pecking your lips. “love you more.”

“that's impossible, you know.”

matty scoffs, delicately dropping ice cubes and orange slices into your respective cocktails and sliding one to you. “no, it's not.”

you roll your eyes as you take a sip of your negroni, matty matching you with his own. “it is impossible - oh, fuck, that's good - matthew. i love you so much. you can't possibly love me more than i love you.”

“come on, sweetheart - christ, that is nice,” your husband smacks his lips appreciatively, laying his glass down and tugging you into him. close enough to see yourself reflected in those beautiful eyes your daughter inherited, the grey is visible not only in his hair but in the day-old stubble decorating his pretty face, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't turned on by how sexily distinguished he looks. “but yeah. you're talking nonsense, darling. please stop.”

a smirk. “make me.”

another in return. “gladly.”

matty's hands find home on your jaw, tender as always, and cold from the cocktail glass in a way that sends a burst of adrenaline right through you. but that's nothing compared to the feeling when his lips meet yours, flavoured from the negroni and just as iced - the butterflies that have lived in your stomach since your first ever kiss with matty have awoken from their dormancy, the beating of their wings matching pace with your heart and blooming a trail of goosebumps across your body. all rational thought in your brain is clouded over by sheer want for your husband; actually, all thought in general has been replaced by a constant loop of his name, his face, his lips, just him in general.

you sigh happily. matty takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your parted lips, his grasp on your face tightening slightly as he does. in response, your hand slides into his curls and latches on, and the moan he lets out in response floods heat into your cheeks, your underwear, and the night itself - despite it being july, it's not a particularly warm night, but kissing matty could make even a december midnight in svalbard feel as sultry as it seems now.

he's dazed when he pulls back, lips swollen and eyes wild and hair messy and chest heaving. you're sure you must look a million times worse than he does, but matty still looks at you like you're the most exquisite thing he's ever seen, thumbs stroking your cheek as he beams. “hi.”

“hi,” you reply, breathily, eagerly, lovingly, elbows resting on his shoulders; his hands settle on your hips, familiar. “that was nice.”

“yeah,” matty kisses you again quickly, humming happily. “we should have these drinks more. your lips make them taste better.”

“i'm up for that,” you huff out a laugh, cheeks warming under your husband's adoring gaze. “i like the way your lips feel, all cold from the ice. like it a lot.”

you don't miss the way matty's eyes light up at that, nor the way his hands (likely subconsciously) travel to rest on your arse. “s'that so, my girl?”

“yeah.”

matty smiles, scooping you up effortlessly and sitting you on the counter. you open your legs and he slots between them, a well-practiced routine, before kissing you softly and murmuring against your lips. “d'you trust me, darling?”

excitement thrums in the pit of your stomach as you nod enthusiastically. “implicitly.”

“good girl,” matty leans sideways to reach for something while you preen at the praise. he returns with a fresh ice cube, already starting to drip in his hands - relatable, you think - and holds it to his lips. “can i kiss you again?”

oh.

shuffling forward on the countertop, you nod. “yes please.”

he beams at you, free hand caressing your jaw. “sweet girl.”

before you can reply, the ice cube is in his mouth, and his lips are on yours again. you whimper into him at the coldness, but it's deliciously erotic - when your husband traces your lips with the ice, you shiver, body arching further into his as the cold runs through you and leaves heat in its wake. matty smiles into you, one hand snaking down to your lower back and the other up into your hair; you can feel his wedding ring against the nape of your neck, cool gold on flushed skin, and you melt into matty faster than the ice cube does.

with a breathy laugh, he pulls back just enough to speak. “are we too old now for me to get you off on the kitchen counter?”

“depends,” you smile, scratching his scalp the way you know he loves. “you reckon your back can handle it?”

matty smirks, gently smacking your arse. “i can try.”

you kiss his nose. “go on, then.”

“thank you, darling. and remember,” he winks at you as he grabs another ice cube. “be quiet for me, yeah? don't wanna wake up our baby girl and leave you hanging, sweetheart.”

“alri- oh,” you moan as his lips (and the ice between them) meet your neck; they travel further and further down, slow as dripping honey, across your throat and over your collarbones. “fuck, baby, that feels good.”

“yeah?” matty pulls back, pretty eyes already hazy with lust as he looks up at you. “pull your top down and it'll feel even better, darling. promise.”

almost shyly, you oblige, sliding the straps down your arms, and your nipples are barely visible when matty takes the left into his mouth. a deadly cocktail of cold and lust shoots through your nervous system when the ice meets the bud, sending a strangled cry flying from your lips and into the summer night, and your hand into matty's hair. he smiles against the flesh of your tit, releasing the nipple to slide the melting ice across your sternum and repeat the motion on your right boob; as he does, tongue and the remaining sliver of ice flicking across the hardening bud, you can't stop your hips from jerking, core grinding into nothing in a desperate attempt to find friction and subsequent release.

your husband notices your wanton movement, pulling off you with a pop and standing. you don't miss the way he winces and quickly touches his lower back, but you're soon distracted from that by him softly caressing your face. “oh, sweet girl,” he coos, the slight condescension in his voice going straight to your underwear. “you need to cum, don't you?”

you nod, pathetic. “mhmm.”

“let's get these shorts off you, then, yeah? lift your hips - that's it, good girl,” matty's fingers hook into the waistbands of your shorts and underwear, gently manoeuvring you so he can slide them off your legs and lay them to the side. grabbing another ice cube, he kneels on the concrete floor in front, pulling you towards him until you're sat on the very edge of the counter. “gonna let me taste you, darling?”

“please.”

matty doesn't answer. instead, he pulls your left leg over his shoulder and presses his lips to the soft skin of your inner thigh, thumbs rubbing their outsides soothingly when you inhale sharply at the coldness, unfamiliar on this new, sensitive part of your body - the breath leaves your body in a sigh when your husband starts to move his lips in some sort of pattern along your leg, leaving a trail of goosebumps and water droplets in its wake, and turns to a moan when you realise said pattern is him writing his name with the ice cube. you can feel him smile against you when you whimper it in acknowledgement, a smile that seems to get even wider when he finishes his signature and immediately turns his attention to your now-aching clit.

you cry out when the cold hits the bundle of nerves, one hand clapping over your mouth when you remember your daughter is asleep, the other raking through her father's hair in a futile attempt to keep some semblance of control. an impossible feat, really - the hunger with which matty goes down on you is enough to get you off quickly as is, and the extra stimulation from the temperature of his lips and tongue and the ice cube itself threatens to send you hurtling towards orgasm. desperate as you are to cum, though, you don't want it to be over quite so quickly, so you try to regulate your breathing, doing your best to focus on the softness of matty's curls between your fingers and reduce the overwhelming pleasure coursing though your body to a more steady, manageable buzz.

and then matty starts to actually tongue-fuck you with the ice, and all of your composure evaporates. the pleasure ramps up to an even higher voltage than before, sparking through you towards the growing heat in your lower stomach; when he adds his thumb to your sensitive clit, you're set completely alight, and it's all you can do to warn him from behind your shaking hand. “matty, matty, i'm cumming.”

“good girl, so perfect for me,” comes the reply, muffled by your body as he works every last vestige of climax out of you. whether it's because of the heat emitted from your orgasm or from the sheer enthusiasm with which your husband was eating you out, you're unsure, but the ice has completely melted - when matty pulls back and smiles at you, eyes as loving as you've ever seen them, you can see the water dripping (presumably mixed with your own wetness) down his pretty face. he hums happily, lightly kissing your thigh before resting his head on it, still looking at you adoringly. “back to the cocktails, then?”

#mads muses #mads does writing #summer75 #into the birthday partyverse #birthday baby #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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