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starzblvd · 11 months ago

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Counting Seconds | Ellie Williams

synopsis; A new special way to welcome the new year in Ellie’s old bedroom during a party

an; Wishing everyone a happy new years !! I’m going to be eating grapes under the table and following superstitions🤍

established relationship, panty play, some spit play(?), scissoring, fingering (receiving), dom!ellie sub!reader

જ⁀➴˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Back in Jackson Ellie agreed to help host a New Year’s party with Joel, Dina, Jesse. Of course any of your friends or family were free to join.

Considering the party was held in the house Ellie was raised in during her youth she took the liberty to dress more comfortably. The party was open invite, more people than you’d thought ended showing up. It was a lively party, everyone had plenty of things to talk about since the night was still young. The music would have been irritatingly loud if not for it being New Year’s Eve. Opposite of Ellie, you dressed up and did your hair up. Black mini skirt and your favorite top, now fixing a few flyaway hairs in the bathroom mirror, then you heard someone’s knocking outside the door.

“I’ll be out in a sec!”

Ellie turned the knob and let herself in when she heard your familiar voice, walking in to hug you from behind making eye contact through the mirror. “Think you’re gonna make it to midnight?”

“We have to make it to midnight El’s.”

જ⁀➴˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ Now that it was closer to midnight your vow to stay awake didn’t sound so important. The loudness of the music had the opposite effect, instead keeping you alert it was almost like a lullaby easing you to sleep. Ellie didn’t look sleepy in the slightest, she was swirling her drink by the glass rim staring at the performances on the television.

With her back turned to you, leaning in you clutch her waist in allowing your head to rest on Ellie, using her back as a pillow. Maybe this way you’d find it easier to make it to the end of the night. Ellie caught on early how you were currently struggling to stay up with how you sighed, then breathing back in her sweetly tart perfume scent.

“Cmon, getting tired already? We’re just half an hour away,”

Putting aside her drink on the table, she held her hand on top of your own. Ellie nudged you buy rolling her shoulder to hopefully open your eyes from their half lidded position, but you responded by groaning against her spine and squeezing her to let you stay like that a little longer. Long enough for you to see the clock strike zero.

Standing behind her, Ellie looked from the left of the room to the right checking the coast to make sure not one person would notice to arise suspicion for her next moves. People were on the other side of the room so she took this as her sign to go. “I need to show you something.”

A quieted low laugh came from her while prying your hold away. Ellie held her arm out to you still looking everywhere else to make sure she’s slipping away quietly. Treading more on your toes than your heels you followed her up the steps of the staircase ascending away from the party. Upstairs the music was muffled, Ellie geared towards her room kicking the door open with the tip of her shoe. The hinges squeaked like in annoyance with how she never used the handle, inside her old room the walls were painted a muted blue.

Posters pinned up of almost everything she’d ever taken an interest in, memorabilia of her teen years in every corner of her room. The current studio in your shared apartment shared so many similarities to this room, it was cute really.

Ellie rolled her eyes at your staring, grinning she anchored you down with her weight onto the bed to sit next to her. Immediately she was leaning into your body kissing you fast onto your lips, then your cheeks, then the bottom of your jaw. By now you’ve gotten a hint of her intentions of bringing you alone.

“El’s there’s people below”

“A few kisses isn’t gonna scare them,”

Being so close her words ticked on your skin and so did her seemingly never ending peppered kisses. Regardless of being on a different floor, paranoid you kept your giggles hushed to not be heard by any other soul than Ellie’s.

Slipping from her original spot she sunk down to the ground onto her knees, poised right before you. Putting your hands together for her to kiss the soft skin of your fingers, Ellie was savoring you slowly as to make sure not to miss any part of you. With both legs pressed together you could feel a new need for her. Subconsciously squeezing and tensing your thighs together didn’t help the surge of impatience for attention from you. It would be embarrassing for how quickly you got like this if Ellie wasn’t the same.

“El’s,”

“What are you so whiny for?”

She whispered and even her chuckling was brought down to the same volume you spoke. Except Ellie didn’t plan on keeping so quiet the entire time. She rode the fabric of your skirt up delicately letting the sheen of the moons light gloss your thighs. Whether you choosing to opt out on wearing safety shorts tonight specifically was intentional or not, she pulled the sides of your panties up making a clear, tight display of your puffy lips. Allowing, no, begging her to get closer you further separated your legs apart, leaning back onto the support of your forearms staring down at Ellie giving her lips a coat of saliva with a quick lick.

At first she plunged in with the tip of her nose bumping your clit before moving her face up to properly kiss it. Bringing the panties even more higher up your torso the fabric scrunched to be enveloped in between your folds, exposing how’d your body quickly opened up yearning for Ellie.

Keeping the panties in front of your cunt she put some pressure in sticking her thumb in, only a bit. Ellie was acting insufferable only giving you teases, pushing down onto her finger only made her retract her hand and body back.

“You gotta hold off a little, can’t go giving it up so easily,”

“but, I want to.”

”you sure about that?”

Placing her hand back onto your crotch bottom side wrist up, her index took no time to force the soaked underwear out and to the side, easily plunging into you with her middle finger too, squishing the wetness while doing so. Whimpering louder than you’d like to let out was more embarrassing and nerve racking given the situation outside the door. Wiggling her fingers up and down outed the absolute messy sticky slush you had created in the few passing minutes.

Touching up on the spongey spot inside you with her long fingers completely lost in you, by now you’d wish Ellie moved faster.

On the shelf of the headboard there was a digital clock that had the seconds in the corner ticking by, counting down. 11:53. Ellie shifts upwards putting a knee up on the edge of the bed between your legs, doing this she slid out from you to grab the clock.

Ellie smiled at the red illuminated digits scoffing at it, soft and raspy “I can use this.”

Watching her pushing herself up from the ground to sit besides you, Ellie grazed your skin trailing up your thighs to completely remove and get rid of your panties. Slowly, she moves a bit back to lower her head to kiss your exposed clit, to suck it into her mouth with her lips so she could touch it with the tip of her tongue, plopping it back out with a coat of Ellie’s spit.

Bringing her head up to meet your face she smooshed your lips into another kiss, but you were needy now. Wasting no time to unbuckle her belt, not bothering to take it out the loops instead just pulling down her jeans along with her underwear. You could feel her heavy breathing on your top lip,

“I’ve been needing this all night.”

Ellie kicked her jeans off with each leg, pushing down onto you while cupping your hips. Now you were laid down completely on your arched back, raising your right leg up to her shoulder. When you easily offered yourself up for her like this she couldn’t ignore her urges anymore and immediately straddled her body onto you groaning a moan out when she could put her throbbing cunt on yours. Starting to rock on top of you, moving on you felt like continuous weaker orgasms that fluttered by. Meanwhile you were teased and touched the entire time so far, Ellie didn’t get to receive any attention on her own cunt, keeping everything inside her pants. Letting for her self made mess by watching you, playing with you, to pool and drown itself in itself before meeting yours. Whatever silence on the upper floor remained was filled with the slippery noises that came with the desires of each other and not to quiet moans.

“I need to fuck-…fucking see your tits.”

Her words came out trembling off her lips, like being almost out of breath, obliging by Ellie’s demands you grabbed the hem of your top pulling it off, trying to yank your bra right off too, disregarding the clasps in the back. Ellie copied your actions and brought her t-shirt over her head making her hair all disheveled, it was easier considering Ellie only ever wore sport bras.

Once your nipples got hit by the colder air and hardened she scooped both boobs into her palms to make some cleavage while they bounced back and forth. Looking up, the glowing stars placed on the ceiling started rocking back and forth too. Ellie let go one of her hands to pick the clock back up, staring at the seconds it was 17 seconds til midnight struck. Slowing down the speed she was going at she turned over the clock so you’d see the seconds go down for yourself.

“what are you showing-“

“We’re going to..make it to..zero.”

Ellie was seriously dedicated to pin pointing both of your climaxes the moment it became midnight. Placing the clock below your boobs staring the seconds down with furrowed brows, refusing to give you the satisfaction of cumming before she said so.

“10.” Ellie started counting down, thrusting only once.

“9” Not getting any faster. People started joining in counting down, quiet between numbers.

“8” One hand cupped her own breast while the other cupped yours.

”7” She squished the bundle of nerves in your nipple.

“5” Moving just faster to pick up pace, careful to not set her off.

“4” Forgetting to be careful.

“3” You could fell yourself on the very urge to unravel.

“2..fuck it.” Inconsiderate of the time Ellie pushed herself down on your clit with hers, sliding down on your slick, cumming right outside your cunt entrance. Downstairs people erupted into screams, they couldn’t hear Ellie’s broken stuttering moan, but maybe they could hear the high moan close to a yell you let out right after hers. The liquid slid down to the duvet, it was mixed with your cum and even more so with the last gentler thrusts.

Ellie collapsed right on top of you sandwiching the clock in the middle of your sweaty bodies. Kissing your cheek she blew a strand of hair from your face away, she looked tired but elated. Ellie lifted herself up to properly look at you,

“I can’t wait to love you for another year.”

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cursedwoman1859 · 1 year ago

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Arm Candy (Silco/F!Reader)

“I need someone who can look pretty on my arm and be trusted not to make off with the silverware from a topsider estate. That’s you.” Silco needs a plus-one for a fancy topsider party. You don't really have a choice but to agree.

AO3 Link

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Words: 5.8k

Content: Resolved sexual tension; semi-public sex; vaginal fingering; dirty talk; dubious business ethics

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It wasn’t often you got called into Silco’s office first thing in the morning. You were a paper-pusher, not one of the battle-hardened henchmen who usually hung around the Last Drop, and your work mostly kept you at your desk. Calculations came as naturally to you as breathing, and you could crunch numbers faster even than Silco himself. In the few months you’d been working for the Eye of Zaun, you’d made yourself indispensable. You helped keep track of the Shimmer shipments going to and from Zaun, you effortlessly slipped the profits from the drugs business into the earnings from the various factories and bars and properties that Silco owned, and once a week you’d spend the evening alone in the office with your stern, exacting boss while you went over that week’s financial reports. Silco needed someone to cook his books, and you prided yourself on being the best damn chef in the undercity. You kept to yourself, you prayed he never noticed your furtive glances up at him when he was absorbed in his work, and you did not cause trouble.

So it was only natural that your stomach twisted itself into knots as you stepped into his office, and that those knots tightened when he looked up from the paper he was reading, his bicoloured stare pinning you and making your walk to stand in front of his desk feel like miles instead of metres.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” you said when you were near, and the way his eyes flicked over you, almost too quickly for you to notice, did nothing to calm you.

“I did,” he said, his chair creaking as he leaned back in it. You’d definitely never wondered if it could hold two people. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

You could swear that sentence made your brain fritz like a faulty wire. “I, um—” Absolutely nothing was the real answer, but for some reason you didn’t want to admit that. “I made plans with…Ran and Dustin,” you said, saying the first names that came to your mind even though you’d never shared more than small talk with either of them.

Silco’s eyebrow raised as if he could see right through your lie. Which he probably could, because it was completely transparent. “Then cancel them. I need your help at an event.”

“What kind of…event?” you said, your mind reeling with all the things Silco could be alluding to. Shakedowns, back-alley deals, assassinations…

“Don’t look so frightened,” Silco said, taking a cigar from his ashtray and lighting it. He took a deep drag, letting the smoke billow around him as he spoke. “Are you familiar with Ko Shosu?”

It took you a moment to remember the name from some of the background research you’d carried out on Silco’s competitors. “Doesn’t he own that factory that makes gears or something?”

“The very same. He’s hosting a party at his residence topside tomorrow night and unfortunately, I’ll need to make an appearance. Shosu seems to think we’re acquaintances. And on top of that, I happen to know that one of his associates has run into some financial trouble as of late. His factory makes components that are essential to the Shimmer-tanks we’re developing. Now isn’t that a stroke of luck?”

“You want to get to this associate so you can get him to work with you?”

“Exactly. His name is Rupert Torek and he’s run up gambling debts with some very unsavoury people. I’m sure he’ll be cooperative once he realises I can lend him enough money to get himself out of debt before his wife finds out.”

You decided not to ask how Silco could have information like that on someone he’d never even met. For your sanity’s sake, it was better not to know. “And why do you need me, sir?”

It might have just been your imagination, but you could swear Silco looked you up and down again. Slower this time. “I thought that would be obvious. I cannot exactly show up to something like this alone. I need someone who can distract Torek’s wife so I can get five minutes alone with him, and who can look pretty on my arm and be trusted not to make off with the silverware from a topsider estate. That’s you.”

“I, um—” you floundered for a minute – the words look pretty on my arm setting your heart racing, which was stupid, he’d literally just said he wanted you to be his arm candy for a night, it meant nothing – and Silco raised an eyebrow at your hesitation.

“You’ll be paid overtime for your trouble, of course,” he said.

“That wasn’t—thank you, sir,” you said quickly.

“Good,” he said, flicking through some of the papers on his desk, his focus already slipping back to his work. “Meet me outside Ko Shosu’s house at eight sharp. Wear something nice and do not be late.”

It was a struggle to focus on your work for the next two days. The figures that usually came so easily to you seemed to blur together until you had to triple-check your spreadsheets in case you’d made an error while your mind insisted on screeching Silco think’s I’m pretty over and over like a stuck record. You were sure he’d meant nothing by that offhanded comment, but that didn’t help anything.

It was almost a relief when the next evening rolled around just so you could focus on doing something.

But that relief didn’t last long when you realised you didn’t have the first clue what you should wear to a party at a topsider’s fancy estate. There wasn’t time to hit up the markets even if you could justify the expense, so you settled for a black dress that was simple, but showed off your figure without showing too much of anything else, as you could at least guess that anything shorter than the knee-length hem of your dress might not go over well among the stiff, buttoned-up topsiders. You’d had the dress a long time and had to stitch it once or twice, but surely nobody would notice a little thing like that.

You felt strangely buoyant as you made your way through the upper districts of Zaun, where at this time in the evening business was just starting to pick up. Lines were forming outside the nicer clubs, the street hawkers were packing up to make way for the crowds, and the air nearly sparkled with Shimmer residue as you passed the open doors of some of the edgier establishments, where topsiders went to get a taste of the undercity without actually having to venture below. You couldn’t even find it within yourself to be annoyed at the arrogant topsiders who came to Zaun to indulge in all the things they couldn’t in Piltover before returning to their cushy homes and easy lives. Tonight felt like an infiltration, and it was you who would be inserting yourself somewhere you could never belong.

You met up with Silco outside the gates of Ko Shosu’s estate. He’d gone straight there from a meeting with some topsider businessman, and he was dressed as elegantly as he always was. As you approached you glanced at the people milling around on the wide driveway, and you suddenly felt underdressed.

“You’re almost late,” Silco said by way of greeting, and the nervous knot in your stomach only tightened.

“Sorry, sir. Border guards held me up. You know how they are.” The Enforcer at the checkpoint on the bridge had made a huge fuss over your ID photo having a slightly different hairstyle than you did now, just being an asshole because he was an Enforcer and he could.

“Hm,” was all he said as his eyes raked over you, and your mind instantly went to those little stitches in your dress. You suddenly felt as if he could see every little flaw in you, and the feeling only worsened when a couple of women in glittering floor-length gowns swept past, arm-in-arm and laughing airily.

“Do I look all right?” you said just to break the tense silence. “This is the best I have.”

“You look perfectly acceptable,” Silco said, and that was almost worse than if he hadn’t said anything. Acceptable. You’d be lucky if you weren’t mistaken for a servant. “Shall we?” he said then, offering you his arm. When you hesitated, he rolled his eyes. “Take my arm. We have to at least appear as if we both want to be here.”

“Do you want to be here?” you said as you curled your hand around his elbow, trying to ignore the jolt you felt at touching him, even if he was wearing a coat.

He scoffed. “Of course I don’t. But needs must.”

As you made your way up the long driveway, you couldn’t help but gawk at your surroundings. You knew this wasn’t even close to being the grandest house in all of Piltover, but at that moment you could have believed it. There were at least four floors, the upper two ringed in balconies spilling over with hanging flowers and vines. The next closest house had to be at least a hundred metres away, and in the dark space between you could make out the open expanse of a lawn lit by a ring of ground-level lamps, and manicured trees on each side. You couldn’t imagine what the topsiders would do with such a space – you could probably fit a whole other house in there, even one as large as Shosu’s.

And when you entered the house itself, you actually gasped. “Someone lives here? It looks like a palace.”

Silco shot you a glare as you stared at your surroundings with wide eyes, barely even registering the doorman who came to take your coats. “Remember how I said you were the only one I could trust not to fill your pockets? Don’t make me regret it.”

But you were hardly listening as your eyes roved over the crowded ballroom. It was a sea of fine suits and jewel-toned gowns, with servants darting through the throngs like the quick little fish that lived in the shallows of the river, trays of drinks and tiny pastry-like things balanced on their fingertips. Music drifted from somewhere you couldn’t see, almost drowned out by the chatter, and diamonds glittered at fingers and throats – and even on the ceiling, you noticed as your eyes drifted upwards, or at least it seemed like the chandeliers were draped in strings of gemstones that scattered the lights in every direction.

“Concentrate, girl,” Silco muttered close to your ear, making you shiver. “Remember why we’re here. Torek is over there,” he said, though you couldn’t possibly guess which of the guests he was indicating. “Do you remember your task?”

You dragged your eyes away from the spectacle before you to meet his mismatched eyes. “Keep his wife distracted while you get him to consider working with you. I’ve got it.”

“Good. We won’t need to stay long – an hour at most, then you can go home and do whatever you’d like. Maybe you can even catch Ran and Dustin.” As he said this the corner of his mouth tilted up, and you realised with some shock that the Eye of Zaun was teasing you.

You shrugged in what you hoped was nonchalance. “It takes as long as it takes. You know I’m not one to rush a job.”

“I’m aware,” he said as you started to make your way through the crowd, weaving through the throng as if you weren’t aiming straight for your unfortunate target. Perhaps it was because people knew he was from the Undercity, or maybe whispers of the things his people did in dark alleys and dingy establishments travelled ahead of him, but the dense crowd of people seemed to loosen before him, as if people suddenly remembered they had other places to be when he approached. If it offended him, Silco gave no sign, but instead he leaned in to you again. “He is close now. Laugh like I’ve said something terribly clever, you look petrified.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, but you did as he asked anyway, and it seemed to help. The tension you had felt in the air around you receded a little, and before you knew it Silco was shaking hands with a tall, portly man. You barely heard as he introduced you as his guest for the night, your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears. Rupert Torek had an open, kind face, his eyes crinkling at the sides when he smiled, and he didn’t seem surprised that Silco had sought him out. You wondered if he had any idea how fucked he was.

“We haven’t met before! I’m Liana, Rupert’s wife,” a voice at your side said, making you start, though you quickly smoothed it over with a smile as you turned to the woman who had appeared next to you, introducing yourself and hoping you sounded like you knew you belonged here, just like she did.

Liana glanced between you and Silco, who had already captured her husband’s full attention. Her brows lowered slightly, and you wondered if she had suspicions about her husband’s gambling. “I didn’t know Silco had a partner,” she said carefully.

“Oh, we’re not…together,” you said, laughing airily. “I’m just accompanying him tonight.”

“I see,” Liana said, though now her smile seemed frozen in place, and you wondered if you’d offended her somehow. But nevertheless she called over a couple of her friends, whose names you quickly forgot, and for a moment you were very pleased with yourself. There was no chance Liana would try to join her husband’s conversation while you had her distracted like this.

It was at this point that things started to go wrong.

In hindsight, you should have realised what Liana thought you were implying when you’d said you were accompanying your boss, and what a topsider would think of that particular occupation. But you were a few minutes into a banal, vapid conversation with Liana and her friends about something that you weren’t really paying attention to before you realised that they all thought you were a whore he’d hired for the night, and apparently found this very offensive judging by the bladed smiles and barbed compliments that started heading your way. It didn’t help that you were inadvertently showing much more skin than any of them – and how you were supposed to know the current fashions topside, you had no idea. Pretty soon your fingers were itching to take off one of your high-heeled shoes and beat Liana’s face in with it, but you couldn’t exactly square up in the middle of a ballroom as if you were in a Zaunite dive bar.

So instead, you just played dumb.

You let the thinly-veiled insults, the insinuations that you didn’t belong among them, glance off you. Nobody spent their whole life in Zaun without growing their own kind of armour. Right now yours was keeping your smile frozen firmly on your face, and so Liana was too busy with you to notice that her husband was making a business deal with the Eye of Zaun himself, right under her powdered nose.

That thought made you glance over at Silco, and the second your eyes met his, you felt a strange sort of calm descend over you. Rupert Torek was still chatting away, not even a hint of discomfort on his round face. Silco gave you a minute, almost imperceptible nod, raising his glass of wine slightly.

It had actually worked.

You tried to keep your face blank. That only became harder when Silco turned his attention back to Torek and you realised that when you’d looked over at him, he’d already been watching you.

Soon after, you excused yourself to go to the ladies’ room. You were pretty sure Liana and her friends forgot all about you as soon as you were out of sight – or at least you hoped so. You didn’t want to know what they’d be saying about you as soon as you were out of earshot.

You didn’t head to the bathroom, though. Instead you went out the way you’d come in, not bothering to collect your coat from the doorman as you went down the stone steps as fast as you could without running.

As soon as you were outside, away from the glare of the house’s lights, you felt the tightness that had settled in your chest loosen. You hadn’t even noticed the anxiety creep under your skin with every barb Liana and her friends had thrown your way, but when it finally dissipated you wondered how you’d been able to breathe at all.

You should go back now that you’d got your fresh air. You couldn’t just disappear.

But one glance back at the shadowy figures moving through the ballroom windows had you moving away from the house, into the shadows of the grounds where nobody would notice the Zaunite girl who was hilariously out of place among them.

The pathways were lit by low electric lights, and there was nobody else out here. You chose a path along the edge of the grounds, shielded on one side by a high wall and on the other by a huge rosebush bordering the lawn. You weren’t sure whether you were really supposed to be out here, but nobody stopped you as you wandered further into the grounds.

Eventually you found a bench and you sat down, tipping your head back to watch the stars in the sky. You’d only ever seen them when Silco sent you up to Piltover on business, and on those nights there was never time to stop and really look at them. Down in the Undercity it was difficult to see the sky at all through the smog, let alone the dozens of stars that shimmered through the haze of Piltover’s lights.

For some reason you couldn’t name, tears sprang to your eyes unbidden, and you tried to blink them away without ruining your makeup.

Of course, that was the moment you heard footsteps approaching.

“Drinking alone already?”

Your head snapped up to see Silco strolling towards you, and it was then that you realised you still had your glass of wine in your hand. You sighed, taking a sip as your boss sat down next to you.

“Just needed some air,” you muttered as Silco slung his arm over the back of the bench. It didn’t escape you that if you leaned back, he would have his arm around you. “How did it go with Torek?”

“I expect we’ll be getting a visit from him or one of his associates in the near future. His wife wasn’t too much for you, I take it?”

“I handled it. But they’re all just so…ugh.”

Silco chuckled as he pulled a cigar from somewhere in his coat, and you tried not to let the sound startle you. You’d never heard Silco laugh before, not even a little, and the sound was surprisingly warm. “Don’t worry, we won’t have to do this again for a while.” You watched as he held the cigar between his crooked teeth as he flicked his lighter, the strange angle of the lights highlighting his sharp cheekbones as he took a long drag.

“You know, I don’t think we’re allowed to smoke out here.”

“I don’t care.” He blew a long puff of smoke out into the crisp night air, staining it with a rich scent of tobacco and spices. “Is something bothering you?”

You searched for words to explain the anger tightening your throat, but came up with nothing that made sense. You were a numbers girl. Words were Silco’s thing. You shrugged. “It’s stupid. It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m asking, so I would say it does.” His voice had hardened, and you glanced over at him in alarm, though he didn’t look angry.

You didn’t want to push it, though, so you sighed and took a sip from your wine to buy a few seconds, feeling Silco’s mismatched gaze on you the whole time. “It’s just…all they did in there was bitch about things. What I was wearing, how I acted, their husbands, their lives. And yet…” you gestured vaguely at your surroundings. The gardens that must have needed a whole team of people to maintain. The lawn that sat empty when it could have grown enough food to feed a whole street of hungry Zaunites. The house. “They have all this, but it’s all they’ve ever had, so they can’t even see how privileged they really are. Meanwhile we have to scrape every penny just to put food on the table and some people in Zaun don’t even get that. If I lived up here I’d never complain about anything ever again,” you finished, and by now you were speaking into your wine glass, your eyes fixed on the ground.

Silco was quiet for a moment, and you didn’t dare glance up at him to see if you could gauge what he was really thinking. You’d never been so candid with your boss before, and you half expected him to leave and pretend tonight had never happened. The very last thing you expected him to say was, “What if I told you that tonight had been something of a test of your loyalties?”

Now you did look up, and he was watching you with that kind of calculated detachment he was so good at, though something in the hard lines of his face had softened. Or maybe it was just the moonlight.

“I don’t understand, sir.”

He took his time answering, taking another long drag of his cigar and releasing the smoke in a ring. “You’ve been with me a short while now, and you’re a very talented accountant. With your skills and some forged papers you could easily find work topside. Something with less risk and more pay.”

You flushed at his insinuation. “You pay me just fine.”

He rolled his eyes. “All wages are higher topside, you know that. You could have walked out of that house with a whole list of people who would pay you far more than I can for the same work, but you didn’t. Instead you stood there and allowed me to work on Torek while everyone in that room thought you were just some girl I’d hired for the night.”

You started to splutter a protest, but it died on your lips when you realised Silco was right. If you’d revealed your real job it would have raised Liana’s suspicions.

“It’s a long road ahead of us until Zaun is an independent nation. The topsiders won’t let us go without a fight,” he said, his voice dropping in case you weren’t alone in the gardens. “There will be times when you are tempted by offers of money, better jobs in better places, employers who won’t ask you to break the topsiders’ laws every day. I needed to know that you were true to the cause, that you would remain loyal to me even when you had the opportunity to make things easier for yourself.”

“You were giving me an out,” you said as it clicked into place. “Why now?”

“Because by now, you know exactly what you’re getting into by staying. Your choice to work for me is a genuine one.”

“So did I pass? Your test, I mean.”

“We would not be sitting here now if you had failed.”

You weren’t involved in the…bloodier side of Silco’s business, but you weren’t ignorant to it, either. You knew what he did to people he suspected of disloyalty. Would he really have let you go if you’d wanted? Or would you have disappeared into the shadows of the Lanes, never to be heard from again? You wouldn’t be the first. But then you realised that you’d never been afraid of that, because you would never give him a reason to doubt your loyalties. Zaun had to break free of Piltover, and he was the only one with the wits, the resources, and the sheer bloody-mindedness to finally cut the undercity free.

A sudden cold breeze blew in off the river, making the hedges surrounding you tremble, and you became acutely aware that you had left your coat inside. Before you could give yourself the chance to think better of it, you leaned back, and as you’d suspected, Silco didn’t move his arm. He didn’t quite put his arm around you, but he traced a circle on your bare shoulder with the back of his thumb, almost as if he was reluctant to touch you in case he scared you off.

“We can return to the party if you wish,” he said, and now he was near enough for his warm breath on your ear to send shivers along your skin that had nothing to do with the chilled night air.

“I prefer it out here.”

“As do I.” He held his cigar between his teeth as he reached into his coat and produced a small metal hip flask.

You couldn’t help but snort as he uncapped it and the smell of whiskey hit your nose. “You brought your own alcohol?”

He took a swig and then passed the flask to you. “Better than the swill they’re serving in there.”

“That swill is probably very expensive.”

“So is this. Drink.”

You took a small sip and were proud of yourself when you didn’t cough, even though the whiskey was strong enough to make your eyes water. A pleasant warm sensation spread out from your chest as you swallowed, though, and you shivered as you licked a drop off your lip. “Definitely tastes expensive.”

You looked up at him, and Silco’s eyes quickly snapped away from your mouth as he made a vague hum of agreement. For a while neither of you spoke, and you only passed the flask back and forth in companionable silence. The music that drifted towards you on the wind picked up in pace, and you heard the occasional drunken shout in the distance. Still nobody ventured into the dark grounds.

“Earlier I told you that you looked acceptable,” Silco said all of a sudden as he tapped out his half-smoked cigar and put it back in the tin. “I believe I should have told you that you look lovely instead.”

You felt a flush creep up your neck, and you risked a glance up at your boss – who had told you that you would look pretty on his arm, who had trusted you with this mission and had noticed when you slipped off to be alone. Nobody ever did that.

Maybe it was the whiskey. Maybe you were delusional or perhaps just stupid. You didn’t really know why you did it, but before you could think better of it, you leaned over and kissed him.

It was only a quick, chaste press of your lips against his, and you instantly regretted it when Silco stayed completely still against you. You jerked backwards, already apologising. “I’m so sorry sir, I shouldn’t—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Silco’s hand was firm on the back of your neck as he pulled you towards him and kissed you. Properly this time. It was your turn to freeze in shock, but you quickly got over it as his tongue danced against yours and you tasted whiskey and smoke. You eagerly let him in as he deepened the kiss, shivering as his hand slid up your leg from your knee to your thigh, and for the first time that night you were glad of your too-short skirt.

You gasped in surprise as he pulled you onto his lap, barely breaking the kiss as he made you straddle him, your skirt riding up as your thighs spread. Feeling bold, you ran your hands through his soft hair, and he hummed in approval as you raked your nails through the short hair at the base of his neck. In response he gave your ass a firm squeeze, grinding you down onto his lap.

And onto the hard length beneath you.

You circled your hips against him as he moved down to your neck, holding you in place with a hand in your hair pulling just tight enough to hurt as he bit more than kissed you, leaving marks that would definitely be impossible to hide in this dress. You couldn’t give a shit. No way were you going back into that stupid party after this.

“Tell me how long you’ve wanted this,” Silco said, emphasising his point with a sharp snap of his hips up against you.

“I—” you started, but you could only focus on his hands creeping up your thighs again. Except this time, they didn’t stop.

“Go on,” he coaxed, as if you were supposed to focus on anything except his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. You hissed as he tugged them down and the cold night air hit your pussy, and it faded into a whimper as he trailed his fingers along your lips, pausing to circle your entrance in a way that made your back arch. “And don’t you dare try to lie to me, sweetheart, because you’re already wet for me.”

“Um…” you tried to focus on anything but the soft, barely-there brush of his fingers against your pussy. Every time you tried to grind against his hand he moved away, keeping his touch just a little too soft, the bastard. “I think – maybe…”

“A few weeks?” he prompted.

“Mm – no…”

He raised an eyebrow, but rewarded your answer by pressing his thumb against your clit, though he still refused to give you what you wanted. Needed.

“Months?”

“Longer. Since… I wanted this since my first day working for you.” Finally, Silco slid one long finger into you as his thumb drew an agonisingly slow circle over your clit, and your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

“Do you want to know a secret, my lovely?” he said, his fingers moving faster, obscene wet noises filling the air.

“M-hm.”

“I have you beat. I’ve wanted this since I interviewed you.”

Your eyes flew open at his admission just as he sank another finger into you without warning. Later. You could think about what he’d said later. For now you just let yourself enjoy the curl of his long fingers inside you, the expert ministrations of his thumb on your clit that sent waves of warm pleasure up your spine.

Until the bastard stopped.

He withdrew his hand from you, and his fingers glistened in the moonlight from your wetness. Your eyes widened as he licked them clean, then he motioned for you to stand. “Get up. Go and stand at the end of the bench.”

You followed his directions on shaky legs, and Silco followed, casually strolling around to stand behind you. You had a good idea of what he intended. He trailed his fingers up your bare arms, then fisted one hand in your hair while the other held your bicep in a bruising grip. “If you want this to stop,” he purred in your ear, “say the word now.”

You only pushed back against him, feeling his hard length behind you.

“I thought not.” Then he bent you over the arm of the bench, the ornate steel armrest digging into your hips as he lifted your skirt and pulled your panties down to your knees. You weren’t sure if you shivered with the cool breeze or the anticipation as you heard him unbutton his pants, his hand still in your hair. Then you hissed as you felt the press of his cock against your centre, arched your back as he slid it through your wetness before finally sinking into you as his free hand started playing with your clit once more.

Your voice rose in a high, keening cry as he sheathed himself inside you, easing the ache of his entry with his fingers on your clit. He stopped abruptly, pulling you up by your hair. “Hush now,” he hissed in your ear as he let go of your hair and shoved his fingers in your mouth. You could taste the echo of yourself on his skin. “You don’t want them to think you really are my whore, do you?”

You choked around his fingers for a moment before you relaxed your throat enough that you could shake your head and make a garbled nuh-uh sound, which earned you a low chuckle.

“I didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart,” he said as he started to move, setting a quick, urgent pace that reminded you that anybody could come around the corner and see you bent over a bench with the most powerful man in the Undercity driving into you from behind as you gagged on his fingers. Every thrust of his hips ground yours against the metal armrest, and you knew you’d surely have bruises in the morning. “I wish we were somewhere I could fuck you properly. Take you apart piece by piece until you’re nothing more than a writhing, crying mess in my bed. But perhaps you do like the idea of someone seeing you, seeing how well you’re taking me. How wet you are.” His breathing was becoming shallow as he fucked you, but that didn’t stop the stream of filth from his mouth. “I don’t know about you, but I would kill to see the look on Ko Shosu’s face when he realises we used his party to lure his friend into our web and then defiled his rose garden right under his nose.”

He said something else after that too, but you’d stopped listening to his words and let the low, rough cadence of his voice be the final push you needed over that peak you’d been approaching, once interrupted and now higher than ever. Even Silco’s fingers in your mouth weren’t enough to muffle your cries as you came, your thighs shaking from the strain of standing while your walls clamped down on Silco’s cock, over and over again in waves of agonising bliss. He followed soon after, and you felt a warm rush as he spilled himself inside you with a groan he muffled in your neck.

For a moment you both stood there, catching your breath. You sighed in relief as Silco removed his fingers from your mouth, and after tucking himself away he cleaned you up with a handkerchief before pulling your panties back up for you. “You felt just as good as I’d imagined you would,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your abused scalp.

“Is that something you imagined often, sir?” you said teasingly.

“Most nights,” he murmured into your hair. “And perhaps some days, too.”

Well, damn. You had no idea what to say to that, other than, “Me too.” Maybe you had actually drank too much. “Take me home,” you said, leaning back against his chest as he straightened out your skirts. You felt him smile against your hair.

“It would be my absolute pleasure.”

#arcane x reader #silco x reader #silco x you #arcane x you #arcane x female reader #cursedfanfic #ive been dipping in and out of this for months and now im sick of looking at it so here you go lol

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bumblesimagines · 7 months ago

Note

look, the sex is great, but i don't want to get involved.

i don't feel that way about you.

Maddy Perez

look, the sex is great, but i don't want to get involved.

i don't feel that way about you.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

As much as he hated admitting it, house parties weren't a complete waste of time. Sure, half the time the only way to have fun was drinking until you were comatose and praying nobody caught the embarrassing moments on camera, but at least they were a good way at meeting others. (Y/N) merely had to wait for the party to really begin once everyone had a bit of alcohol or weed or harder shit in their system and were screaming the lyrics to whatever song the host put on, most often from a hip hop playlist full of songs about gangbanging or doing drugs put together by a suburban white kid who'd only ever touched weed once in their life. Sometimes, he'd wait around for Maddy and her posse to show up, wait a couple mintues while she pretended he didn't exist until the party bored her and she dragged him someplace private, but (Y/N) wanted to spice things up. After all, his father had always told him that 'men eventually get bored of eating the same meal everyday'.

So, after scoping out the scene at the little house party some random classmate had thrown, (Y/N) found himself being approached by a pretty redhead he vaguely recognized from 3rd period English class and only had to take a few sips of the spiked punch before leaning in to kiss her. It'd all been going well. The redhead whose name slipped his mind the second after she told him had perched herself on his lap, the pink lipstick she wore certainty smudging against his lips though he hardly minded. He geared himself up to ask if she wanted to head upstairs, only for his eye to catch Maddy making a beeline straight for him with her two friends tripping over themselves to follow.

He hardly had time to react before Maddy grabbed a fistful of the redhead's hair, a shriek of pain and surprise leaving the girl as Maddy pulled on it and dragged her right onto the floor. (Y/N) shot up from the couch while everyone around them moved out the way, making a circle around them and fumbling for their phones.

"The fuck's the matter with you?!" The redhead shrieked, one hand holding onto Maddy's wrist in a vain attempt at getting her to let go.

"The fuck's the matter with me?! Look at yourself, bitch!" Maddy shouted back at her, ignoring Kat and Cassie's pleading shouts for her to calm down until she finally released the girls hair with a forceful shove. The redhead grunted, touching the back of her head where Maddy had grabbed her before she reached for a nearby unattended cup and tossed it in Maddy's direction, drenching Maddy's miniskirt and most of her thighs in beer. A chorus of 'ooh's spread around the crowd, shining lights from phone's recording pointed at the two of them. "You dumb fucking slu-"

"That's enough, Maddy," (Y/N) coiled your arms around her waist before she could lunge for the girl and hauled her off, shoving his way through the crowd while she withered around in his hold, shouting insults and threats at the top of her lungs. Her nails dug into his hands, trying to pry them of herself while he searched for a door that hopefully led to an empty room. He found one by the stairs and opened it, flickering the night on and finding himself looking into the garage. Good enough. He walked in, minding the small step, and shut the door behind him with lock for good measure.

"Let me go." Maddy demanded and he loosened his grip enough for her to wriggle free. She staggered forward and looked down at herself, irritably groaning and wiping her palms across her bare skin in hopes of drying herself. (Y/N) exhaled heavily and took a glance at the back of his hands, finding red lines from her nails. He typically never minded scratch marks, but only under the right circumstances.

"What the hell was that about?"

"Oh, I'm sorry for interrupting you before you could fuck that bitch infront of everyone. I didn't realize you were into that shit, my fucking bad." Maddy snapped, letting out a huff and raking her hand through her hair, pulling strands away from vision. She murmured angrily under her breath when she looked down at herself again before fluttering her eyes shut and taking in a deep breath. "Whatever. Forget about it, okay?"

"No, no I won't forget about you almost ripping some chick's hair from her scalp for no reason!"

"You stick your tongue in her mouth for five seconds and suddenly you start giving a shit about her? Give me a break. She'll be fine, (Y/N). She'll have a headache for a couple hours and that's it." Maddy rolled her eyes and scoffed. "I didn't even hit her."

"That doesn't explain why you did it, Maddy. You were fine one second and the next you're trying to fight some chick you've never even spoken to before. What's your problem?" He stared at her and she refused to look back at him, instead keeping her head angled toward the tools hung up on the wall.

"Forget about it, (Y/N). Let's just... let's just have some fun, okay?" Maddy exhaled softly and finally looked at him, her heels clicking against the concrete floor as she closed the distance and slung her arms around his neck, her perfume invading his senses and maroon-colored lips capturing his. He grunted, grabbing hold of her hips and pushing her back. "Come on, (Y/N). You know you would've ditched her for me if I asked."

"But you didn't, Maddy. You cockblocked me by dragging around that damn chick and you won't even tell me why. You getting jealous on me or something? 'Cause that's what it looked like." (Y/N) pried her arms off his shoulders and stepped around her, creating distance between them. Maddy crossed her arms, head tilting back and another groan leaving her mouth.

"So what if I was?"

"So what? Look, the sex is great, but I don't want to get involved with whatever bullshit you've got going on with Jacobs, alright? You're a cool chick, Maddy. You're practically perfect. But.. I don't feel that way about you. I've seen you and Jacobs. You'll never let each other go, and that's just not for me. I'm... sorry."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #euphoria #euphoria x reader #euphoria x you #euphoria x male reader #euphoria x y/n #euphoria hbo #maddy perez #maddy perez x reader #maddy perez x male reader #maddy perez x you #maddy perez x y/n

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macfrog · 1 year ago

Text

moneyball cowboy like me chapter four

part iv of dbf!joel is yours!!! check out my masterlist to find the first three chapters for all your dbf needs. as always, thank you all so much for all the love n support. you guys make writing this series so much fun!! 🤍 i lowkey don't know whether or not i hate this chapter but i had to write it once the idea was in my head 🤷‍♀️ enJOY

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: when joel double-books you and your dad, you decide to teach him a lesson

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! oral (f receiving), praise kink, lotsa teasing, lil bit of bratty reader, lil bit of dom!joel, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), consumption of alcohol, cursing

word count: 4.2k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You raise your eyebrows at Joel innocently as you push the popsicle deep into your mouth, sucking as far as the back of your throat will allow, before dragging it back out with a pop. A thread of sweet, fruit-flavored saliva strings between the tip of the popsicle and your bottom lip as you pull it away. You run your tongue slowly over your lips and smile at him. He looks pissed. He can’t take his eyes off of you, or your swollen lips, but he looks ready to snap. “I found snacks, by the way,” you lull.

How slutty is too slutty? When you’re going over to your dad’s best friend’s to…Well, you’re not quite sure what yet. You’ve picked out a short blue summer dress, strappy back, with black lace panties underneath. If you’re looking, and the light is right, you can see them through the blue fabric.

Joel would, you know that much. That’s all you really care about.

You’re putting earrings on in the mirror when your dad knocks and edges into your room.

“Where you headed, kiddo?”

“Just out for a drink with Sam. Said we’d have a catch-up at the barbecue, so.”

He narrows his eyes.

“It’s not a date.”

“Hey,” he lifts his hands, “I didn’t say anything. When will you be home?”

“Dunno. Why?”

“I’ll be at Joel’s, so remember your key. Just in case.”

Excuse me? Did he just say –

“Joel’s?”

He nods, sitting down on your bed behind you. You stare at him in the mirror.

“What’s happening at Joel’s?”

“Rangers game. He’s having Bill and Hank and me.”

Just then, your phone buzzes. You subtly lean over and catch a glimpse of the screen before it fades to black again.

Joel: Call me when you’re alone. ASAP

You roll your eyes and let out a low sigh.

“Can you give me a sec, Dad? I think I wanna change my outfit.”

“Sure. I’ll give you a holler when I’m leavin’.”

He shuts your door behind him and you wait until you hear his footsteps recede to call Joel.

“Hey, baby, listen, I’m gonna have to raincheck.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Something’s come up.”

“Right.” Your tone is muted and flat. On purpose. Joel notices.

“So…we’ll figure somethin’ out, right? You workin’ much this week?”

You scoff. “I dunno, depends on when the next Rangers game is, doesn’t it?”

He’s quiet for a moment. Then he takes a deep breath. “Kid, I’m so sorry–”

“Here I am,” you throw your arms up and march around your room, though you know he can’t see you, “getting ready, putting together the sluttiest-within-reason outfit I own, and all the while you’re gearing up to host my dad and your buddies.”

“…You’re wearing somethin’ slutty?”

“Not anymore,” you huff as you pull the dress off. “I’m changin’ into sweatpants.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’d still be into you in the sweatpants.”

“Shut up.”

He laughs. “I will have them out and gone as soon as the game’s done, and then you can come over, okay? Sound good?”

“And you’ll make it up to me?”

“I intend to.”

“’kay. Just know you’re gonna pay for this.”

He says through a chuckle, “See you later, baby.”

You hang up.

You rake through your drawers for something a little more comfortable to wear, settling for a floral skirt and off-shoulder top. Equal parts casual and suggestive. Perfect for payback.

Joel knows he’s gonna pay. He just doesn’t know when.

“Hey, hon, that’s me headin!” your dad calls up the stairs.

“Wait up!” you reply, grabbing your shoes and hopping out of your room. “I’m comin’.”

“You want a ride to Frank’s?”

“No, I’m coming to Joel’s.”

He watches you struggle down the stairs with one shoe on, brows furrowed. “You wanna…come watch the game? What about Sam?”

“He just cancelled.”

Your dad looks tickled. “Cheatin’ on ya, is he?”

You stand straight, finally having pulled your shoe on, and punch his arm. “I’ll be in the car.”

“Alright…” he mumbles, following you out.

----------

Joel’s face when he opens the door is a picture you never want to forget.

“Hey– I – did not know you were comin’.” He ushers you both in.

“Neither did I,” your dad replies, “she decided last minute. Blew off some date with that boy from Frank’s for this.”

“It was not a…” Your sentence ends with a sigh as you follow him inside, looking up at Joel as you pass. He knows damn well you didn’t even have plans with Sam, never mind a date.

“Big Rangers fan?” Joel calls from behind as the three of you head for the living room.

“Yes,” you reply, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as possible.

“Big enough to schedule a date during the game?”

“I’m sure I’m not the first to do that,” you hiss through your teeth, and he gives you an amused grin.

Bill and Hank haven’t arrived yet. Your dad sits in his usual recliner seat and sighs. You and Joel share the couch, where he turns on you to interrogate you more.

“So, what’s with the change of heart?”

“I, uh…I didn’t know it was this game.”

“And what game’s that?”

“The…Uh…You know. Rangers.” You shrug.

“Name three players.”

“That’s sexist,” you reply, pointing a finger at him.

Your dad cackles, rocking back and forth in the chair. “Beers, Joel?”

“In the fridge,” Joel answers, eyes still on you.

Your dad, who’d be oblivious to a hurricane outside if it weren’t for the warnings on the news, waltzes past the pair of you, locked in a death stare.

“You’re here to cause tr–”

“Trouble, yeah.” You flash him an innocent smile. “You caused it first.”

The doorbell rings and Joel doesn’t move, eyes still dancing all over your body; your shoulders, your hips, your thighs peeking through the slit in your skirt.

Your dad calls through from the kitchen, offering to get it, and you hear the rumble of Hank and Bill’s voices.

When Joel’s eyes meander back up to meet yours, a dangerous look in them, he leans in close. You tilt your jaw to allow him access, but his lips never touch you.

Breath hot on your skin, his Southern drawl whispers, “I started it, and I know how to finish it, pretty girl.”

Then he stands and heads to the hallway to meet his guests. You clamp your legs together.

Bill roars your name when he sees you. “I didn’t fuckin’ know you liked the Rangers!”

You stand and nervously accept his arms over your shoulders, squeezing you so tight it takes your breath away. Joel stifles a laugh in the doorway.

“I just wanted to be around for all the fun,” you almost gasp when he releases you.

Hank is older and smaller in frame, and he gives your hand a little squeeze as he passes by to the couch. “We’re up for it tonight, kiddo,” he smiles sweetly, “it’ll be a good’un.”

“Bill, beer? Hank?”

“Bourbon for me, Joel. Brought my own bottle.” He hands it over.

As your dad squeezes past to join his friends, Joel clicks his fingers at you and jerks his head toward the kitchen. Your jaw falls open with mock offense.

“Dick,” you whisper as you pass.

“Needed help from my waitress with the drinks,” Joel murmurs with a smirk, the two of you heading through.

He opens the fridge and reaches up to grab three beers – Buds, you notice – from the top shelf. His shirt lifts a sliver from the waistband of his jeans, exposing the tan skin beneath.

Your head cocks as you stare at him, gripping onto the worktop, probably more to stop yourself from approaching him than to look casual. But when Joel turns back around, he reads you like an open book.

“Quit starin’,” he mutters, nudging you to shift out of his way.

You don’t budge, so Joel shifts further up the counter. When you slide up to follow him, pinning yourself between him and the marble surface, he scoffs.

“Stop that,” he whispers.

“Stop what? Thought you knew how to finish this?”

“Alright,” he hums, arms reaching around yours to crack the beers open in front of you. Your back is flush against his chest.

“Then,” he mumbles, chin hooked over your shoulder, “we take this,” he reaches for a whiskey glass and Hank’s bottle of Yellow Rose, sliding them over in front of you with one hand. He takes your hands in his, using you like a puppet to pour Hank’s drink.

You can’t help but giggle as his stubble grazes your cheek.

When you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, you feel an unmistakable swell behind your ass. Joel’s breath falters for a brief second.

You want more. To be frank, you’d take him here and now if it weren’t for his buddies in the next room. But this isn’t about what you want right now. Not yet.

You push off the counter gently, your ass touching Joel’s crotch, grinding into him. His jaw tightens, teeth lock together, and he emits a low growl. He doesn’t move; just stands with his arms around you, hands gripping the worktop, holding you in place as your hips rut on his hardening bulge.

The TV is switched on and you hear a familiar commentator’s voice.

“Joel!” your dad yells from the living room.

“Had your fun?” he grumbles in your ear.

You shake your head. “Not yet.”

He moves his arms then, letting you go, taking his and Bill’s beers and Hank’s bourbon, and backs away. His eyebrows are cocked, and you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face.

You watch him until he disappears into the living room, and snap out of your daze. I’m not here to be wooed by him.

I’m here to make him finish what he started.

When you enter the living room, beer in hand, all four men are literally on the edge of their seats, as far forward as they can get without actually sliding off of Joel’s couch.

You notice a space between Joel and Hank, and slip between the coffee table and Hank’s legs. He moves back to allow you the space to squeeze by and slot in on Joel’s left.

As you fall down into your seat, all eyes glued on the TV screen, your right hand comes up to balance yourself �� Who are you kidding? – on Joel’s thigh. The inside of Joel’s thigh.

His head jerks down to stare at your fingers, locked around his leg. Checking nobody’s looking, you move it slightly upward. Closer to his –

“What are you doin’?” he whispers through gritted teeth, low enough that the other men don’t hear.

“Watchin’ the game,” you reply, innocent and sweeter than sugar.

His free hand takes hold of yours and slides it off of his thigh without looking, eyes always on the room around him.

You breathe a laugh as he readjusts in his seat, sitting up awkwardly straight and keeping his legs a safe distance away, parallel to yours.

You’re just getting started.

----------

Let’s be frank about it: baseball is fucking boring.

Well, let’s rephrase. It’s not that you don’t like watching it; you’re sure that, in more appropriate circumstances – relaxing on a lazy Sunday, or at an actual game, where the atmosphere buzzes with excitement – you could enjoy it.

But right now, you’re sat with your dad’s buddies, an ache between your legs that you can’t fix, and the only person who can fix it, is refusing to even look at you.

Given the situation at hand, you can’t really fault him for that. But you’re still a little mad.

When they roar at the screen for what feels like the thousandth time, you decide to take yourself for a quiet jaunt to the kitchen.

“You got snacks?” you ask Joel.

“Cupboard above the microwave,” he replies, gaze locked on the game.

You saunter out of the living room, finishing the dregs of your beer, and place the bottle in Joel’s sink.

Reaching up to search his cupboards, you find one bag of Cheetos and another bag of pretzels. You toss them both on the counter, and they land a little bit away from Hank’s bottle of bourbon.

You pick it up, reading the label. You’ve never really been much of a whiskey drinker, but you’re bored, and it’s here, so you may as well.

You pour a little into the bottom of a glass and lift it to your lips, giving it a good sniff before you take a sip. Your face screws up immediately, swallowing just to get the liquid off of your tongue, feeling it burn its way down your throat.

“You okay in there, kiddo?” your dad calls, hearing your coughing, and you splutter a “Yep!” in response.

Would it taste better with ice, you think? Maybe if you could get used to it, it wouldn’t be that bad. You amble over to Joel’s refrigerator and haul the freezer door open, in search of ice cubes, but finding something even better.

You lift the box, sliding one of them out and unwrapping it. When you knock the freezer door closed with your hip, you strut through to the living room and stand behind the couch in the doorway.

No one notices you sneak in; they’re all waving their fists and yelling curses at the TV.

“What’s goin’ on?”

Four heads turn to give you an update on the game, and three hastily turn back when the crowd suddenly begins cheering.

One head, though, whips straight back to you. Stood in his living room doorway. Sucking on a popsicle.

He looks pissed. He can’t take his eyes off of you, or your swollen lips, but he looks ready to snap.

“I found snacks, by the way,” you lull.

“Yeah? Good.” He twists back around to face the television, a hand running across his jaw. He shuffles in his seat again, just as awkward as he is uncomfortable.

You let out a quiet giggle and meander gleefully back through to the kitchen.

Not long after, you’re at Joel’s counter eating some of his pretzels when he and your dad stalk through, followed by Bill and Hank.

“Game over?”

“No, kid,” Bill chuckles, “seventh-inning stretch.” He yanks open Joel’s refrigerator and takes three more beers, passing them around.

He perches on a bar stool next to you, bringing a hand down on your back – loving, of course, but in typical Bill nature, kinda painful.

“We ain’t doin’ too bad,” Hank muses as he pours another whiskey, and your dad nods silently.

Your eyes flit between the men, now deep in conversation about the game, then land on Joel, leaning against the doorframe sipping on a beer, his eyes on you.

You lean over the counter, popping your ass out, and make him watch as you open your mouth, extend your tongue, and place a salty pretzel on it, closing your lips around your finger and licking it clean.

His expression never changes. Just watches like you want him to, beer bottle clutched in his fist.

“I’ll take these.” Bill’s hand swings across and scoops up the Cheetos, and before you know it, they’re making their way back out of the kitchen.

Joel’s eyes bore into yours as your dad, Bill, and Hank filter out past him. He’s mad, you can tell that much. He paces over to you.

“Knock. It. Off.” His voice is a low growl.

You shake your head. “No can do.”

He sighs, gripping your wrist. Before you can take a breath, he’s dragging you out of the kitchen and upstairs, where he makes a right and almost shoves you down the dim hallway.

“The hell is your game?” he hisses when you’re out of earshot of the others.

“Having fun, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to keep everybody from seeing the fun you’re having. Touchin’ and rubbin’, lookin’ at me like that in front of everyone. The damn popsicle.”

“You liked that, huh?”

“You gettin’ off on this?”

“Mhm.” You nod a little too desperately.

“Well, quit it. When we’re alone, fine, do whatever you want. Not when your dad’s watchin’.”

“My dad ain’t seeing none of it and you know it.”

He runs a hand through his hair and brings it down over his eyes. Seeing him this stressed and undone over you, over what you’re doing to him, sends pulses of electricity through your body.

“What the hell am I gonna do with you, girl?”

You shrug. “Maybe you should punish me.”

“Maybe I fuckin’ should,” he spits, turning away from you.

As if just hearing what you said, he turns on his heel, staring you down with an expression you read to mean one thing: he’s fucking considering it.

“Maybe I fuckin’ should…” he whispers again.

You try to keep your cool façade up, but the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark, jaw clenched, towering over you and cornering you against the wall, has you so wet and needy that you can’t pretend anymore.

“Joel…”

Whatever you were about to say is cut short by the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Joel reacts before you do, reaching behind you to pull a door open and backing you into his linen closet, quietly following you in and closing the door again.

There are just inches between you both, pressed chest to chest in the tiny confines of the closet. Joel’s head tilts and listens for Hank’s figure, stumbling back and forth across the landing in pursuit of the bathroom.

“Where’d you say it was, Bill?” he calls downstairs.

“First door on the right, dumbass!” Bill’s voice shouts back up.

Joel’s fist suddenly wraps around the handle, his eyes glued to the wall above your head, listening intently. He’s making sure Hank doesn’t try the wrong door.

Which, of course, he inevitably does.

It rattles some, but Joel’s grip stops the handle from turning. He glares up, shaking his head, mouthing profanities. First door, you fuckin’ moron. You stifle a laugh behind both hands.

“Hank!” your dad’s voice shouts from downstairs. “Not that one, idiot, the one next to it!”

Finally, the door stops trembling.

“I see it now, sure enough,” Hank mumbles, and you both listen to him spill into the bathroom next door.

You let out the breath you’ve been holding in your chest. Joel lifts his hand off of the door handle and places it around your jaw.

“You’re gonna be real quiet, alright?”

He’s speaking so low and so quiet that your eyes track his lips to read the words he’s saying.

“Gonna do what I say and keep that pretty little mouth shut.”

You squirm under his touch, hands gripping his shoulders, desperate for him to kiss you.

Instead, he holds your jaw tight and forces you to look at him.

“Say it.”

“I’ll be quiet,” you breathe, “I’ll be good. Just fucking touch me.”

He runs his tongue along your bottom lip then, asking it to part, and when it does, pulls you roughly against him, free hand dropping to your ass. His tongue battles strong against yours, bittersweet with the taste of beer.

You feel yourself intoxicated with the taste of him, the smell of him, the feeling as his hips purposefully rut into yours. You want him to mark you again, give you something to hide, something to make half-assed excuses over when people spot it. You want him to make you his.

You moan into his mouth, hands finding his hair, and he grips you tighter.

“Shut – the fuck – up,” he snaps between kisses.

He pauses only to listen to Hank tumble out of the bathroom and back downstairs, then gives you a peck on the lips with a cocky smile.

Suddenly he’s at your neck, lips kissing, tongue licking, teeth grazing, and then he’s making his way down, over your breasts, breath hot and unsteady on your heaving chest.

You can hear the booming laughter of the men downstairs. Their shouts and calls at the television. It all echoes up the stairs, floating in under the slit of light from the hallway outside.

Joel’s on his knees now, placing delicate kisses up your thighs. His hands pull your weight onto his shoulders, fingers taking hold of the hem of your skirt and hiking it up. When he reaches your underwear, he looks up, a dark look in his eyes. A question.

“Quiet,” you mutter, nodding, and buck your hips toward him in attempt to hurry him the fuck up.

He smirks at your neediness and kisses you over the lacey fabric of your panties. You bite your lip to keep a moan from escaping your lips. Joel’s eyebrows raise, waiting for you to make a sound. When you don’t, he pulls the fabric back.

He positions himself perfectly at your sex, pulling your thighs a little wider apart over his shoulders. Your head falls against the wall behind you, but your eyes stay locked on him, watching every little move he makes.

He starts by placing his lips against your clit gently, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. He’s soft, warm, but with a hunger for more.

He sucks there for a minute, your hips rolling against his mouth, vision becoming clouded with stars in the darkness of the closet. Your hands tease his hair, gripping and pulling harder the more pressure he applies to your core, the closer he drags you to your high.

When he pulls away, a tiny gasp passes your lips. You expect him to get mad, punish you for making noise, but he just grins to himself and dives back in.

His tongue licks along your folds and you have to bite down on your sleeve this time. It’s no use, your moan breaks free and fills the tiny space, but Joel’s groaning too as he tastes you for the second time in three days.

“So – fucking – good for me, darlin’,” he whispers when he comes up for air, then gets right back to it.

His fingers grip your thighs so tight it almost hurts, keeping you steady. His head drops a little lower, and you feel his breath across your lips.

“Joel,” you moan, and he looks up. “Need your tongue.”

When he drags it between your folds and dips ever so slightly inside you, your back arches, shoulders digging into the wall. You’re doing everything not to scream, his tongue lapping you up, nose rubbing against your clit, but you’re nearing closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Keep – going – fuck, Joel,” you breathe, eyes screwed shut, hands tangling in his hair, pulling his head closer against you.

“Shh,” he’s cooing now against your cunt, pulling a hand under your thigh to insert two fingers as his tongue massages your clit. “I know, I know,” he says, lifting his chin. “Poor baby just wanted some attention, huh?”

You smile, eyes closing in bliss as his tongue reattaches to your core. You whimper his name as your walls start to close around him.

Just then, a roar lets out from the living room, and the coil snaps. You cry out, moaning Joel’s name as you cum on his tongue, your sweet noises drowned out by the thunderous cheers from downstairs.

You swear you feel Joel smirk against your wetness as you unravel for him.

You’re panting, hands still clinging onto his hair for stability, as he pulls away from your cunt and leans back. He gently rolls your thighs off of his shoulders and helps you to stand, before his tall figure straightens up in front of you.

You instinctively grab his shirt and pull his lips against yours, wanting to taste yourself on his tongue. Joel’s breath hitches when your teeth graze his bottom lip and you pull away, releasing it.

“I fucking love this,” you mutter, and he laughs.

“Yeah? I just missed a whole inning ‘cause of you.”

“Worth it.” You smile as he opens the door, checking the coast is clear before letting you out first.

“Where the hell you two been?” your dad asks as you both rejoin the group.

“Missed one hell of a play, you pair.” Hank raises his glass toward the television.

You sit a little distance from each other on the couch, your needs fully satisfied, and Joel clears his throat.

“Was showin’ her my new six-string.”

You notice him out of the corner of your eye licking his lips. Fucker.

Your dad shakes his head with a laugh, spinning the recliner back to face the screen. “First baseball, now guitars. What has gotten into you, lately, hon?”

“Hey, Joel?” Bill sits forward, leaning over the coffee table to Joel, who lifts his head in reply. “You mind showin’ me that six-string after the game?”

You choke on your beer and Hank’s hand comes up to clap you on the back. “You alright, girl?”

“Maybe, maybe,” Joel replies, trying to ignore you, coughing and spluttering at his side.

With a few more good whacks from Hank and a clean sip of your drink, you recover just enough to join the conversation.

“It’s a really neat guitar, Bill.”

----------

taglist: @yvonneeeee @brittmb115 @subconsciouscollapse @leahlovestwd @peqchsoup @whorror-s @k1ttybean @whichwitchwanda @abuttoncalledsmalls @anner--nanner @jpbplvr @laysmt @ankhmutes @bookishhella @cannolighost @luvrking @mellymbee @yourwinchesterbros @serenaxpedro @nostalxgic @scottstotts @daiseygriffithx @letsgroovetonighttt (let me know if u wanna be added!)

#joel miller #joel miller fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #dom!joel miller #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #fic: cowboy like me

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lokisgoodgirl · 11 months ago

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Peace [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: After an outing to the Christmas Tree Farm goes awry, Loki does a little soul searching in his moccasins. (w/c 1.2k) Warnings: A tiny bit spicy. Like literally pepper. Fluff, some forestry angst(?) A/N: My contribution to the Secret Santa 2023 event hosted by the wonderful @fictive-sl0th - Merry Christmas @coldnique ❤️ Request: Reader and Loki are burdened with a mission; finding the perfect tree. Unfortunately, our god doesn't deem any of the ones they see at the farm worthy so...

You watched Loki’s frown deepen as he concentrated on the road ahead. A familiar sign flashed by at the roadside, finally. Tony had given you a loan of his cabin in Vermont for the week. But festive, it was not. Not yet.

You turned up the volume on the touch-screen, hoping that Elton would rouse Loki’s mood a little. Biting your lip, you glanced at the god out the corner of your eye. No change. The trip to the Christmas tree farm had not been a success.

“They were all too...bushy, unkempt” he grumbled, switching to fifth gear with an unnecessarily erotic yank. “Well that’s what pine trees do, my love” you replied, letting your eyes run up his chest, up his neck. Loki hurmphed. “-And the needles on them were so jagged. Dry. All arrogance and no substance." He tilted his chin upwards, the hard vein in his neck throbbing at the tip of an elegant turtle-neck jumper. The god let out an incredulous scoff. “My dear you could injure your delicate mortal hands. I simply will not allow it.” He paused, nodding sagely as you approached a bend. "Arrogant. Yes, that's what they were. No individuality, no...depth,” he growled, giving a haughty sniff. You looked out the window, taking a deep and silent breath. Placing a hand on his thigh, you felt the muscles beneath his jeans work, clenching. You gave him a consolatory pat. “I mean really,” Loki continued undeterred. “Once the various trinkets you like so much are added to the tableau it will look truly ridiculous. Pompous, in fact.” “At least they were green,” you murmured. The sound of Loki’s hair whipping as he snapped to face you rustled the air. “Yes,” he snipped. “At least they were that.”

Back at the cabin, you flinched as Loki threw the door closed behind him. He strode into the kitchen, dropping the car keys in a dish with a malevolent rattle. You walked to where he stood gripping the counter top, sliding your hands around his waist. He huffed gently, before his touch covered yours. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I ruined the Christmas ambiance, didn’t I?” “A bit, yes” you replied. He huffed again. The soft, nasal kind that denoted annoyance at himself. He spun to face you.

The fine knit of his sweater pulled against your fingertips. In seconds his lips sealed to your neck, longing kisses wet against the angle of your jaw. Loki pulled you against him, soft tongue darting teasingly against your lips as he sought entry. Your hands slid up his chest, toying with the high collar tight against the sharp slate of his jaw before you slid your fingers up. They tangled in his locks, tugging gently while he moaned into your mouth.

“Ah-” he gasped suddenly, timed with a well-placed squeeze of your hand against his cock.

It pulsed against your palm. You smiled. Fucking on Tony’s counter-top was most definatley on your 'Christmas ambiance' list. The smile fell as Loki touched your hand, pulling it gently aside. He gazed at you with narrowed eyes, a thoughtful glint sparking deep within them. His lip twitched as he straightened, towering over you. Rogue curls fell around your face, the scent of his almond and redcurrant cologne that clung to every strand making your mouth water. “I cannot be held responsible for diminishing the glimmer of Yule in that precious heart of yours,” he whispered gallantly, before clearing his throat. “I shall be back presently to right this most egregious wrong.” And in the swirl of a coat and the click of the latch, he was gone.

Loki walked approximately fifteen steps before he admitted to himself that the soft leather moccasins were a bad choice.

He pulled the coat he was wearing tighter. The hem flapped against his knees as he walked. Unfortunately for Loki, he had neglected to pack alternative shoes in his pocket dimension. And furthermore, he could not abide a return to the cabin after such a flawlessly theatrical exit. A warming enchantment on his feet would have to suffice.

He walked, and he walked. And the forest grew thicker.

The god’s gaze darted between each majestic pine tree, stretching to the sky. Perfect, he mused bitterly. They’re all too perfect. If Loki had learned anything in past years about the power of this so called christ-mas, then it was that the festivities were a time for see the beauty in things oft overlooked. To celebrate that which was diminished throughout the other, more bountiful seasons. Loki could relate to that feeling. It was part of the reason he enjoyed it so much. He came to a clearing, shivering lightly as he stopped. Snow had begun to fall in silent flakes, resting atop already heaving branches. How far had he walked, he wondered. Loki looked up, closing his eyes to the bright, frozen sky. The god would never quite understand how he had found himself living happily on Midgard. In truth, how he had found himself living happily at all. It frightened him sometimes how much he saw his past-self as another. Like one of your documentaries, or a myth. Stories told as a cautionary tale with a flashlight under one’s chin in the dead of night. A fiction. And he would tell them gladly. But it was not himself of which he spoke. Not really. Not anymore. It frightened him, oh yes. Not that he would ever tell anyone that. No one but you.

But Yule is a time for honouring one’s past, he surmised. And so – the first emblem of the season he chose himself should reflect that. "Where are you?" he murmured quietly, spinning in a measured circle with his eyes closed. A flake of snow stuck to his bottom lip. He felt it melt against the warmth it found. Loki opened his eyes. He took a few steps towards the nearest tree. Tall, bushy, perfect – just like the others. But he trusted in the moment, however that worked.

His moccasins crunched, disappearing into thickening snow beneath his feet. Moisture soaked into the suede lining. The god shifted around the plump fir, pushing its branches from his path. "There you are," he whispered against the chill.

In amongst the tightly packed pine trees, sat a rather modest specimen. It was a fine tree. Noble, despite its diminutive state. A little tired. Lack of sunlight from those crowding around it had stunted its growth. Loki could see where its branches had fought for every scrap of light, twisting and adapting at strange angles. He ran his fingers gently across the vibrant spines. Plump, and luscious. None came loose. The tree was free of snow, shielded by the very branches which cramped his ascent to their level. He hummed an Asgardian chant, running his hand to the tip of the branch.

Loki waited for a response. He lowered his head, listening. It was ceremony. "This, I swear," he murmured in reverence. With the greatest care, he summoned the gentlest magic he possessed. The tree roots came away with ease, plucked from the moist soil like sponge from a greased tin. Willingly, he thought with a smile. And Loki cradled the small tree all the way back to the cabin. You were overjoyed, greeting him through the window and then at the door with a smile that would rival the brightest moon. That evening, you and he decorated the small tree with delicate ornaments. Loki was sure that he had never seen a finer Yuletide scene. And every day, in the bright winter light of the living room, and where you and Loki spent lazy nights celebrating by the warmth of the fire – that little tree grew. Love, space, freedom, faith. Loki pondered those words whenever he saw it. The god tended it every day with his magic, keeping the roots fresh in their temporarily home. And when the holiday ended, he would re-plant it. Somewhere it could continue its journey to its full potential in peace. Peace, Loki mulled as he brushed a strand of hair back from your cheekbone while you slept on his chest. Carols played. He inhaled against your hair, feeling your breaths rise and fall in time with his own. Peace.

Secret Santa 2023 taglist: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @simplyholl @lady-rose-moon @superficialdomina @cultofcarter @coldnique @give-me-a-moose @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @fictive-sl0th @smolvenger Tags (cont in comments)

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips

#loki x reader #loki fluff #secret santa 2023 #Camilles secret santa #loki x reader fluff #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fanfiction #loki oneshot #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson x reader #loki imagine

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yukipri · 6 months ago

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Some thoughts on Cara

So some of you may have heard about Cara, the new platform that a lot of artists are trying out. It's been around for a while, but there's been a recent huge surge of new users, myself among them. Thought I'd type up a lil thing on my initial thoughts.

First, what is Cara?

From their About Cara page:

Cara is a social media and portfolio platform for artists. With the widespread use of generative AI, we decided to build a place that filters out generative AI images so that people who want to find authentic creatives and artwork can do so easily. Many platforms currently accept AI art when it’s not ethical, while others have promised “no AI forever” policies without consideration for the scenario where adoption of such technologies may happen at the workplace in the coming years. The future of creative industries requires nuanced understanding and support to help artists and companies connect and work together. We want to bridge the gap and build a platform that we would enjoy using as creatives ourselves. Our stance on AI: ・We do not agree with generative AI tools in their current unethical form, and we won’t host AI-generated portfolios unless the rampant ethical and data privacy issues around datasets are resolved via regulation. ・In the event that legislation is passed to clearly protect artists, we believe that AI-generated content should always be clearly labeled, because the public should always be able to search for human-made art and media easily.

Should note that Cara is independently funded, and is made by a core group of artists and engineers and is even collaborating with the Glaze project. It's very much a platform by artists, for artists!

Should also mention that in being a platform for artists, it's more a gallery first, with social media functionalities on the side. The info below will hopefully explain how that works.

Next, my actual initial thoughts using it, and things that set it apart from other platforms I've used:

1) When you post, you can choose to check the portfolio option, or to NOT check it. This is fantastic because it means I can have just my art organized in my gallery, but I can still post random stuff like photos of my cats and it won't clutter things. You can also just ramble/text post and it won't affect the gallery view!

2) You can adjust your crop preview for your images. Such a simple thing, yet so darn nice.

3) When you check that "Add to portfolio," you get a bunch of additional optional fields: Title, Field/Medium, Project Type, Category Tags, and Software Used. It's nice that you can put all this info into organized fields that don't take up text space.

4) Speaking of text, 5000 character limit is niiiiice. If you want to talk, you can.

5) Two separate feeds, a "For You" algorithmic one, and "Following." The "Following" actually appears to be full chronological timeline of just folks you follow (like Tumblr). Amazing.

6) Now usually, "For You" being set to home/default kinda pisses me off because generally I like curating my own experience, but not here, for this handy reason: if you tap the gear symbol, you can ADJUST your algorithm feed!

So you can choose what you see still!!! AMAZING. And, again, you still have your Following timeline too.

7) To repeat the stuff at the top of this post, its creation and intent as a place by artists, for artists. Hopefully you can also see from the points above that it's been designed with artists in mind.

8) No GenAI images!!!! There's a pop up that says it's not allowed, and apparently there's some sort of detector thing too. Not sure how reliable the latter is, but so far, it's just been a breath of fresh air, being able to scroll and see human art art and art!

To be clear, Cara's not perfect and is currently pretty laggy, and you can get errors while posting (so far, I've had more success on desktop than the mobile app), but that's understandable, given the small team. They'll need time to scale. For me though, it's a fair tradeoff for a platform that actually cares about artists.

Currently it also doesn't allow NSFW, not sure if that'll change given app store rules.

As mentioned above, they're independently funded, which means the team is currently paying for Cara itself. They have a kofi set up for folks who want to chip in, but it's optional. Here's the link to the tweet from one of the founders:

And a reminder that no matter that the platform itself isn't selling our data to GenAI, it can still be scraped by third parties. Protect your work with Glaze and Nightshade!

Anyway, I'm still figuring stuff out and have only been on Cara a few days, but I feel hopeful, and I think they're off to a good start.

I hope this post has been informative!

Lastly, here's my own Cara if you want to come say hi! Not sure at all if I'll be active on there, but if you're an artist like me who is keeping an eye out for hopefully nice communities, check it out!

#YukiPri rambles #cara #cara app #social media #artists on tumblr #review #longpost #long post #mostly i'd already typed this up on twitter so i figured why not share it here too #also since tumblr too is selling our data to GenAI

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takenbypeter · 2 years ago

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When Symbiote Meets Symbiote

Eddie Brock x reader

Words:1283

Author’s note: This isn’t exactly like the request there could be more arguing but I’ve been trying to write this for awhile and this is all i got and I’m tired of thinking about how to make this better so this is is it

Requested by anonymous: Obsessed with the thought of Eddie running into someone else with a symbiote, n y know they're alike in the sense that their symbiote is... well they're not as murder happy as Carnage n such, Problem is that Y/N's symbiote doesn't know that Venom isn't really a threat to their host, and Venom doesn't know S/N isn't a threat to him

It was one of those late nights…you know the kind.

Those kind of nights were only the overhead streetlights guided your footsteps and cars zoomed by despite how dark it was out. The kind that had some people clutching their purses, while others walked around with hoods over their heads while minding their own business.

You were a part of the latter, having to run a small sort of errand so late and were just about on your way home.

The past you would’ve been terrified roaming the streets but the present you? The present you, was just fine with it.

The present you had no fear.

Okay not no fear but let’s say less fear, but anyone with your…”condition” would feel the same.

Suddenly feeling a cold rush of wind against your face you felt the dryness of your lips starting to irritate you. Pulling out your teeny tiny chapstick, you yank the top off. Pulling it a little too hard, it drops and rolls down the sidewalk. Despite knowing you’re not going to use that again, you still refused to litter and you followed after it.

With a bend at the knees you reached for the small object but became easily distracted at the sound of the sudden thrashing you heard coming from the alleyway right beside you.

Then, you heard some yelling. Curiosity quickly took over you, you stood there wondering if you should go and help, or you should instead just go about your day and mind your own business.

The latter was always, always so tempting.

“What to do? What to do?” You whispered under your breath before you heard the familiar voice.

“Let’s go check it out! Might get some brains out of it!”

You rolled your eyes at the clear excitement in your symbiote’s voice.

Creeping closer to the chaos your eyes quickly turn attention to the shadow that’s illuminated on the wall across from you.

You didn’t know what you were looking at.

All you knew was that it was huge.

The shadow appeared to be some huge bodybuilder type, and in his grip looked to be a body.

You watched in slight horror as the giant mass of shadow’s mouth seemed to split open before it ate the small body’s head clean off.

Now, having lived with a symbiote yourself for some time now, this seemed like very very familiar behavior, you in fact have eaten a couple heads yourself. But not once have you met or even seen another symbiote.

“Oh my god is that—?”

“A symbiote.”

After seeing what you just saw you’re not sure how to react, but your symbiote, Abyss does, “we can take ‘em.”

You knew you had a very tight knit bond with Abyss, therefore making you very powerful together, however you weren’t so sure about this.

“Wait, let’s just see what were up against first,” you suggested.

“Our bond is so strong, we‘re more than half as powerful as I am on my planet. Let’s go now while they’re distracted.”

“Okay wait let's just…wait.”

Despite feeling different about the situation than you, Abyss listens and you try to figure out what was going on, as you did your best to creep along the wall discreetly, until you’re standing behind the black symbiote. Before you could get “geared up,” as you might call it, you see the body in its hand fall and the black ooze slowly seems to disappear inside of someone revealing a rather normal looking man.

You let out an, “oh my god,” not as discreetly as you probably should have, because the man turns around spotting you.

He doesn’t have much time to react because soon the dark purple color of your own symbiote begins to surround you, covering every inch of your body until you’re fully concealed.

The man is clearly confused at what he sees before him. “Who the hel—“

Before the man can finish that question Abyss’ purple material goes out practically body slamming him onto the wall.

Inside your jaw drops, “you didn’t even let him finish,” you felt like he at least deserved that.

You watch as the poor man struggles to get up, using the wall as a helper, “wait, I just wanna—“ another slam against the wall, this time a double hit and you almost feel sorry for the guy who seemed to pose no actual threat.

It seems like Abyss may have thrown one too many punches because a new voice, a deep and raspy one shouts, “that’s it,” before the man becomes engulfed in the deep black-like material once again.

You really didn’t want to fight the guy, but thanks to Abyss it seemed like you no longer had the choice.

“I’ll eat you up and spit you out for breakfast,” said Abyss, clearly taking a line from one of the many wrestling matches that you‘even heard before.

You didn’t even have a chance to hold back Abyss because soon, the two symbiotes were practically tearing each other apart. Hitting each other left and right, uppercuts, pinning each other to the walls, it was almost an evenly met match.

It came to the point where they were pushing each other, hand gripping hand, and you couldn’t help but wonder, why you were even fighting this guy in the first place?

While Abyss and this random symbiote were screaming in each others faces, you fought to have your face revealed, and you managed to get out, “time out, time out. Can we all just time out and talk?”

It was a stretch simply asking for that while the two were at each others throats and clearly the symbiote across from you didn’t favor the idea.

“Ha you must be joking if you think—“

“V,” came a voice as the man’s face pulled through, “V come on, they just want to talk.”

A second passes by and the symbiote he called, “V” growls.

Taking this as a sign of hesitant agreement, you announce, “okay we’re backing down,” and although not on board with this, Abyss let’s go.

V doesn’t even let a moment pass before leaping and taking the opportunity to pin you by the throat. But before it can do any harm you hear the man shouting for it to let go and after struggling for a moment it lets go.

You grapple to collect your breath, as the two argued against the opposite wall.

“Venom, what the hell was that?”

“What? I thought it was a trick. How was I supposed to trust them? They tried to kill us first.”

Venom wasn’t the only one who was upset as you heard Abyss mumbling, “they’re distracted, why don’t we attack now and get it over with, they shouldn’t be here,” Abyss suggested.

“No Abyss, we’re just going to talk and figure everything out.”

Abyss, not really caring anymore, falls away flowing back into your veins and your skin. While the other two continue their dispute.

“Venom we’ll just talk, not everything has to be fought its way out.”

“Because bad people love talking so much.”

“How are we supposed to know if they’re bad if we don’t talk to them?”

“Don’t come to me when you’re lying in a ditch, I can just find another body to occupy anyway.”

“You know that’s not true.”

You almost don’t want to interrupt with how intense they were going back and forth but the man sensed you behind him, which interrupted their talk. Turning to you just human to human now, he asks, “do you want to get hot chocolate?”

And there’s really nothing else for you to say except, “I would love to get hot chocolate.”

#eddie brock x reader #eddie brock fanfiction #eddie brock fanfic #eddie brock imagine #venom x reader #venom imagine #venom fanfiction #venom fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #requests #request

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 6 months ago

Text

Blood Sport

Feyd Rautha x Y/N - drabble part 4 - 2.6K WC

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 (you are here!)

Part 5

Part 6 NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: violence, blood, fighting, Baron and Reverend Mother being shady af, pretty fluffy, reader is just built different, knife throwing, full on fight, blood licking?, slow burn, two passionate people trying to protect each other, I completely made up the language of Succo so don’t come for me, not proof read but then again none of my fics are

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You woke early, a slight crack in the curtains letting the blindingly bright black sun of Geidi Prime stream across your face. You groaned as you threw your arm over your face; the bed felt cold, lonely. You looked over to where Feyd slept last night, rolling towards his pillow. His scent still lingered - sweet blood mixed with musky sweat. You breathed deep before your maids entered the room.

“What?” you hissed at them, holding your hand out to pause them in their place. Your blood magic felt stronger than it had in days now that you had fed, especially from such a strong host.

“The Lord Na-Baron Feyd Rautha has requested your presence in the training arena princess. He gave me a message for you.” your maid said not looking you in your eyes.

You made a ‘come here’ motion with your hand, your magic dragging her towards you. You set her down, she handed you the note with a trembling hand. “Out.” you said dismissing them. They scurried out like frightened rats.

Fitalitum veritanic et alumi read the slip of parchment. You smiled to yourself, in your own mother tongue of Succonant he wrote “There is beauty in ferocity”. You placed the note in the top drawer of the bedside table before getting out of bed and readying yourself. You purposefully picked out one of your long dresses instead of training gear. He wanted to see beauty and ferocity, you would give it to him. As you adorned your dress you couldn’t help but admire how every piece of it could become a weapon. The sharp shoulder pads could be taken off and used as individual throwing knives. The belt became a barbed whip. The long sleeves hid two painfully thin blades, dainty but they hurt no less than a regular Cruor blade. Each layer on the dress had razor sharp edges, if you spun they were sure to carve your opponent. Finally a diadem which encased your shield should you need it. Cruor fought without them but you didn’t want to risk marking your face days before the wedding. You finished admiring yourself before grabbing your beloved Cruor sword and heading down the corridor to the training arena.

As you walked down the cavernous halls of the Harkonnen palace you were confronted with the Reverend Mother herself, as if her ghostly form sprouted from the floor itself.

“Princess Y/N” she stated in an unimpressed tone.

“Reverend Mother.” you said, equally displeased.

“Are you prepared for your wedding?” she asked, reminding you that the end of the week was approaching rapidly.

“Of course.” you replied, bored.

“You may think yourself above the rest Cruor, but you must remember where you are. And who truly rules.” she said with spite in her voice.

“How could I forget Reverend Mother? Your shadows haunt these halls.” you said viciously, referring to her Bene Gesserit sisters.

“You are fortunate the Voice does not affect you. But there are other ways to make you cooperate.” she said, stepping closer to you in an attempt to be imposing.

You twisted your fingers, your magic forcing her back and making her stumble. “Unfortunately for you, you are not and will never be immune to blood magic. It is built into my very being, not some trick to be learned. You do not frighten me, and I will not cooperate with you unless I alone agree to it.” you snapped at her.

“There are always ways to make one cooperate. Should something happen to your husband, the Queen will be looked at intensely as a suspect. With my advice.” she said with an unsettlingly soft smile.

“And what makes you think I care for him in the slightest?” you asked, despite knowing it wasn’t entirely true.

She hummed curiously, “Good day princess.” she said before walking away from you.

“Cunt.” you whispered before pushing on towards the training arena.

When you entered the arena Feyd was nowhere to be found. You honed in your accelerated hearing, listening for his heartbeat. Your scarlet eyes narrowed to your left but a blow hit you from the right. You rolled to the ground with a groan. Feyd looked down at you with nothing but malice.

“What the fuck? That hurt you ass.” you coughed, hand holding your ribs which felt slightly cracked.

“What makes you think I care in the slightest?” he said with venom in his voice. He stomped towards you.

You knew he overheard your conversation. This was no longer training, this was a fight. You kept hold on your side, continuing to pretend like you were in immense pain. As Feyd stood before you, you kicked out his ankles with one swipe of your leg. He fell to the ground, you held your nails to his neck. Feyd grabbed your wrist, yanking you towards him, he threw you over him. Using your momentum he rolled with you, pulling his knife out and stabbing it next to where your shoulder would have landed if you had not pulled yourself towards him as you rolled. You smacked your forehead into his, pulling one of your shoulder blades out and stabbing at his shoulder, the blue shimmer of the shield vibrating the small blade. You pushed off each other, both of you getting to your feet.

You tossed the small shoulder blade away from you, “You want to fight? Fight.” you said, pressing the main jewel on the diadem. Your blue shield shimmer faded before you tossed it off entirely. Feyd followed suit. You smirked at him which only seemed to anger him. He lunged at you, blade thrusting towards your chest. You made an ‘X’ in front of you with your forearms, the thin blades in your sleeves caught the knife, you twisted until he dropped the blade. He brought his armored arms down, breaking the thin blades. You backed up, kicking his chest to push him away. Feyd tried to rush you but you spun away, the dress ends slicing through his armor and into his thigh slightly. You took your belt off, lassoing his ankle before pulling him. He landed on his back. You snatched the lasso back, wrapping it around your knuckles before you squared up. He attempted to swipe your leg, instead you caught his and punched him in the side, hearing one of his ribs crack. Feyd groaned as he bent over slightly, holding his side.

“Now were even.” you said, tossing your belt to the side.

Feyd pulled you down by your dress, rolling you beneath him before he snatched one of your remaining shoulder blades. Starting right above your belly button he dragged the knife, cutting your dress up to your neck. A thin cut trailing your skin from the very tip of the knife, making you suck in a sharp breath as you felt drops of your blood seep out. You reached up to grab him, he held both your wrists down after tossing the small blade away. Both of you breathed heavily, chests hitting each other with every inhale. His eyes looked into yours, alight with fire. His hips nestled between your legs. Your dress fell open, revealing the cut he left behind, hardly keeping your breasts covered.

“You learn quick.” you smiled beneath him. “You are not your weapons. You are the weapon.”

His eyes wandered to the cut he left up your torso, he saw the few drops of blood that dripped to your side. He slowly lowered himself down your chest, keeping his eyes locked with yours. You watched through a haze as his tongue flicked out before he dragged it up the cut between your breasts. You sucked in a breath, your eyes closing as your back began to arch into him. You felt his tongue leave you all too quick.

“Absolutely vile.” he said, savoring the way your iron tasted on his tongue.

You heard the door open and shut, a Harkonnen maid entered without looking at either of you, “The Baron has requested your presence in the Great Hall my Lord Na-Baron Feyd Rautha.” she said before scurrying out.

Feyd stood, offering you a hand to help you up. You tugged your dress closed with one hand, accepting his help with the other. Chest to chest once again, time felt as if it had froze. Your breaths matched each other, breathing each other in and out. Feyd leaned in first, his forehead going to rest against yours. You moved to kiss him, not entirely sure why but every fiber of you ached for him and him alone.

Before you could close the gap, the Barons voice boomed throughout the arena. “Nephew! We have much to discuss. You are dismissed princess.” He said waving you off.

You tightly held your dress together, ripping yourself away from Feyd and exiting the room. You checked, making sure no guards or maids were around before remaining right outside the door, honing your hearing in on them.

“Holding knives to your bride? I figured you’d be a brute in marriage like you are in battle. Try not to break her in too rough, they’re much less likely to oblige. Although… we could always have someone hold her down for you. Like I had to with you the first few times.” The Baron chuckled.

You could hear Feyd’s heartbeat, his soul was crushing at the memories and yet he was calm. The Baron confirmed what you had seen when you drank Feyd’s blood, he had abused Feyd - physically, mentally, emotionally, sexually. Your body warmed with anger, you had half a mind to go and rip the Baron’s throat out with your own teeth. He was an animal, he should die like an animal.

“That won’t be necessary, I’m perfectly capable of taking her on my own.” Feyd replied.

Your heart sank and a low boil of fear started in your stomach. You felt stupid for starting to feel anything for him besides hate.

“She is strong willed, thinks she knows best. Tame her, break her. She need only produce and heir or two… then you can dispose of her.” The Baron said.

Feyd’s eyes widened slightly as his head whipped up to meet the Baron’s gaze. He composed himself once more, “Of course.”

You couldn’t listen to anymore. You hastily made your way back to your chambers, tearing off your gown once inside. As you moved to put on more comfortable clothing you caught sight of your reflection. You could see bruises forming along your side, and the blood that had dried on you from the cut that was still present up your chest. As soon as you had finished cleaning yourself up, dressing your wounds, and changing into much looser clothing you heard the door slide open.

Feyd looked at you, startled by what he saw. Black veins around your eyes were ever present as your pupils looked like that of a cat. Instead of your regular two fangs you had four. You looked like you were ready to devour him mind, body, and soul. “Y/N?” Is all he said.

“Are you here to break me? Tame me? Are you going to hold me down or will your guards be doing that?” You asked with so much loathing in your voice it made his head spin.

“You know I’d never hurt you-“ he started.

“Do I?” You cut him off. “You breathe because I allow it. Do not forget who comes from the more powerful house. Who carries generations of magic within them. Who feast off the very life source of others.”

Feyd could see how much you distrusted him, and yet he saw your eyes getting misty.

“You are a beast, Feyd Rautha. A beast and a monster. To believe I ever thought otherwise…” you trailed off.

“I may be a monster but at least I am not some unfeeling blood magic wielding wench who cares for no one but herself. I overheard you with the Reverend Mother.” Feyd argued back, both of you now heated and angry.

Your jaw dropped. How could he be so thick? So fucking oblivious? “I said that to protect you!” You yelled at him, stepping closer.

“What do you think I was doing?” He yelled back, throwing one of your empty glass jars to the side.

The jar shattered as it hit your light disc he had gifted you. The disc faltered, the stars and Rubrum disappearing as the disc finally died, “No!” You yelled, rushing to it, forgetting the argument at hand entirely. You knelt next to it, picking it up and trying to make it work again.

Feyd watched you, his eyes softening. You were scared and alone on a planet you had never known, surrounded by people who viewed you as strange and lesser, whose only purpose was ultimate obedience, to be used any way that would benefit House Harkonnen without regard for you.

You sighed, letting the star disc clatter to the floor. You remained on your knees, a small sniffle emanating from you. You hated looking weak, but you knew this was coming; everything was too much. You wanted nothing more than to go back to Succo.

Feyd knelt in front of you, gently taking your arms till you rested against his chest. You let out a heart wrenching sob. One that had been held in for quite some time. “I would never hurt you, I am loyal to you above all else.” He murmured as he stroked your back, trying to calm you.

You leaned into him, finally letting out all that had been held in since you left Succo. “I don’t want to hurt you either. I have no one on this planet but you… I wish for us to be equals; us against any who oppose us.” You said between sniffles.

Feyd pulled you back so he could see you. Your face had returned to normal, as did your fangs. Black tears cascaded down your cheeks, he gently wiped them off. As you looked at one another you could feel it. The same need to be understood, wanted. You both leaned in, lips finally meeting. Both of you let out sighs, the long awaited tension finally breaking. It was slow and sweet but gained momentum. You nipped his lip with one of your fangs, causing him to reel away from you in surprise.

“Sorry…” you blushed.

He shook his head, “Don’t be… we should rest…” he said after a few moments.

“We have much to discuss.” You said.

“And we will. But for now, let us rest.” He said, his hand coming up to hold your cheek.

You placed your hand over his, closing your eyes before nodding. He stood first, guiding you up as he stood. You climbed into the large satin covered bed. You watched as Feyd discarded his armor, along with his shirt. He held it for a moment, hesitating if he should or shouldn’t do what he was thinking.

You reached out a hand for him, “Come to bed.” You said sleepily, already laying down amongst the pillows and blankets.

Feyd smiled softly as he set his shirt down and climbed in next to you. He did the same as the first night, sleeping far from you. You peeked at him through the haze of sleep that was rapidly consuming you. You tugged on his arm, making him scoot closer to you. You wrapped yourself around him; one leg around his hips while you laid yourself on his bare chest. You snuggled in for a moment before finally drifting off. Feyd caressed your hair as you slept, thinking of how he could protect you from his uncle because you were, by far, the most precious thing to him.

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Naboo's Note:

This took 3 days to write but I think it was well worth the wait. We're finally getting somewhere romantic! I know ya'll are horny but patience is a virtue and trust me it will be worth it. We've got wedding bells coming the next chapter! Thanks for all the support around this series, I'm having a lot of fun with it :) I love comments and find them super encouraging so be sure to drop me some XOXOXOXOXOOXOXOXO

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#feyd imagine #feyd x reader #feyd smut #feyd rauth harkonnen #feyd rautha #feyd x you #feydpaul #feyd rautha harkonnen #house harkonnen #baron harkonnen #harkonnen #dune part two #dune part 2 #writing #dune movie

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