#someone suggested I could turn it into a basket
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Softie
Agatha Harkness x Reader
Word count: 1.1k
Notes: Requested, fluff
Summary: You drag Agatha Harkness out on a picnic date and she can't believe how much she enjoys it.
An: Mega soft cute fluff. Sorry that it's a little short.
Masterlist
The more Agatha began to think, the more she was genuinely confused as to how she landed herself in this predicament. A picnic date.
It was too pleasant for her usual taste. The sun was up high in the sky, yet a cool breeze made the heat more bearable. People were scattered around the park doing various activities joyfully. There was not an ounce of chaos in sight.
“I’ve never seen someone look so perplexed about a park before,” you comment opening the picnic basket.
Her confusion seemed to clear at the sound of your voice. That’s right, she was here on this beautiful day at the park, because you suggested it.
“I’m not perplexed, it’s just not my usual.”
“Hundreds of years old and parks are mystifying to you,” you tease her.
Agatha deadpans, “Not parks, just you.”
You blush under her gaze, “Whatever, let’s just unpack the picnic.”
Agatha smiles genuinely, helping you unpack the basket. She was pleasantly surprised to find a lot of her favorites tucked away inside.
“So… what now?”
You laugh at her, “Now we enjoy the snacks, the outdoors, and each other.”
Agatha sighs, “It’s so mundane.”
You shake your head, “Does my company bore you?”
Agatha sputters, scooting closer to you, “If that were the case, I wouldn’t be here… at a park. I prefer having you by my side.”
You lay your head in her lap. Her hand finds a place in your hair, and it feels all too natural.
“You’re getting soft,” you say looking up at her.
“You seem to have that kind of effect on me,” she says softly.
You get lost in her aura. The feeling of her hands combing through your hair made you giddy. You reach for the bunch of grape you had packed, picking a single one and holding it up for Agatha to eat.
She looked at you for a long moment before eating the grape from your fingers.
“You want another?”
“Keep em coming sweetheart, if I use my imagination I can taste wine.”
You chuckle at her antics, “You’re adorable.”
She arches an eyebrow, “Adorable? I am Agatha Harkness, feared by all. Cunning, mischievous , hot, I am not adorable.”
“It’s even cuter when you go on those tangents.”
Agatha refuses to look at you as a blush coats her cheeks. However you don’t let her hide from you so easily. You sit up, gently pulling her towards you. You place a small kiss on her lips.
“I swear you’re trying to make me melt today,” Agatha mumbles.
You steal another kiss from her, “Maybe I am.” You lie flat on the blanket encouraging Agatha to do the same. “Look at the clouds with me. That one kind of looks like Señor Scratchy.”
Agatha stares into the sky and truly she only sees white blobs, but she thought better than tell you that. Instead she plays along, pointing out random clouds and attributing their likeness to something.
“That one looks like a broom.”
You intertwine your hands together unconsciously, “I see it, and the one next to it looks like a turtle.”
The excitement in your tone makes Agatha feel all warm inside, “We could get a turtle.”
You turn to face her, “I thought you hated pets?”
“Hate, is a strong word. Besides, I like Señor Scratchy. I think a turtle would be pretty docile in comparison to a dog or cat.”
“What would you name it?”
She shrugs, “I think that’s your domain sweetheart.”
“I don’t know, Señor Scratchy is a great name.”
Agatha thinks for a minute, “Tortellini.”
You burst out in laughter, “Tortellini the turtle? I love it.”
Agatha stares at your side profile as you laugh. The sun beaming down on you in that moment. It was as if you were glowing. Agatha begins to realize that she always feels like you have this glow about you. You carry yourself with a brightness that she can’t help but be affected by.
Her layers of sarcasm, selfishness, and superiority can’t help but peel away in your presence. She wasn’t used to feeling this amount of positive emotion. It was surprising that it wasn’t making her sick. In all truth she could never get sick of you or the ways that you challenged her.
The sweet moments between the two of you the cute dates, Agatha enjoyed it all. She may have even gone as far as to say she loved it. She loved spending time with you, she loved being around you, she loved talking to you.
“Y/n,” your name falling from her lips pulled you out of your laughter.
She hardly ever called you by your name. There was always a term of endearment to replace it. Whenever she did use your name, it felt serious. Yet when you look over to her, you see her eyes shining. You hadn’t seen Agatha scared many times, but it’s easy for you to pinpoint the fear in her eyes.
You hum in response, pulling your interlocked hands up to your lips and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.
The large breath she lets out does little to quell either of your nerves.
“I love you.”
Your eyes soften immediately as you stare at the older woman. Agatha waits for you to say something, anything. Her eyes are glued to the picnic blanket.
“Agatha,” her name is light on your tongue.
She hesitates, but eventually meets your gaze. There are tears welling up in your eyes, your emotions overwhelming you entirely.
The witch doesn’t know what to make of the situation. She doesn’t have to wonder for too long before your lips are on hers.
Her lips move against yours tentatively. The kiss is the exact opposite of the fiery woman delivering it. She lets you lead the kiss, hoping she’s reading the moment correctly.
You don’t want to break the kiss, but the breeze reminds you that you’re in a public park. You pull away from her slightly, hands cupping her face as you maintain eye contact.
“I love you too.”
All of the anxiety and fear leaves Agatha’s being. She smiles, fully; a sight that you’re always trying to get out of her.
“I can’t believe you have me confessing my love for you at a park, like some lovesick teenager,” Agatha jokes, smile not leaving her face.
“I always thought I’d say it first. I can't believe you beat me to it.”
Agatha wraps her arms around you, “ I’ll let you have the next relationship milestone, if that’ll make you feel better hun.”
You lean back into her hold, “No, no I like it when you get all nervous. It’s cute.”
Agatha squeezes you a bit causing you to yelp, “You’re lucky that I love you.”
You kiss her cheek, “ I love you too, you big softie.”
Agatha kiss your forehead, before resting her chin on your head.
“Only for you.”
#lowkeyerror#agatha x reader#agatha harkness imagine#agatha harkness x reader#lowkeyanswers#lowkeyrequest
147 notes
·
View notes
Text
→ of creation & devotion
PAIRING → mairon | sauron x female!elf!reader
WORD COUNT → 6.7k words
SERIES → of sauron & the moriquendi
WARNINGS → more childish yearning, mentions of torture, fighting, mentions of blood
AUTHORS NOTE → welp here we are, again hehe, though this time I do have a plan and someone will kind of get revenge for this little mishap hehe. @enseekay you wished for me to tag you ❤️
SUMMARY → years pass, and mairon settles into his new life while you yearn for what may never come to pass.
PARTS → one // three // four
“He seems utterly captivated by you,” Eärlindë remarked, her tone light with amusement as you walked past the forge. The clang of hammers on anvils echoed through the street, the apprentices bustling about their work, but you hardly noticed them. What caught your attention was the familiar sensation of Mairon’s gaze upon you, a weight you had grown accustomed to. His emerald eyes lingered, stealing a moment to take you in as you passed. It was never difficult to tell when he was watching; his presence was a part of you now, woven so deeply into your being that even Vairë herself might envy the threads that bound you together.
And yet, that was all it had been since he had taken over the forge—stolen glances, fleeting smiles, and polite nods as your paths crossed in the market. You had hoped, desperately, that he would seek you out after the moment you had shared in the glade. His touch, his words, his very presence had awakened something within you that could not be silenced. But he had kept his distance, offering no more than the warmth of his gaze from afar.
“I doubt it, Eärlindë,” you replied, clutching the basket of soiled linens a little tighter. The previous night had been a joyous one—the town celebrated the arrival of a new babe, and your heart had swelled with pride as you placed the child into its mother’s arms. The look of wonder and love shared between the parents had been beautiful, a reflection of Arda’s harmony in its purest form.
But as you had stood there, watching the couple bask in their shared joy, a quiet ache had settled in your chest. Your thoughts had drifted, as they often did, to him. You yearned to know what it might feel like to have his arms around you, to be held as though you were his entire world. You imagined him looking at you with the same adoration, his smile radiant as he beheld a child born of your union, the fruit of a bond unshakable and eternal.
It was foolish, you told yourself. A naïve maiden’s fantasy, nothing more. Surely, he could not feel the same yearning that you did. If he did, why would he keep his distance, leaving you to wrestle alone with this unrelenting harmony that sang between your fëar?
You sighed, shaking off the thought, but Eärlindë’s teasing glance told you she had seen through your words. She always did. Still, you walked on, carrying your burden of linen—and of longing—with you.
“Would it warm your heart to know he refuses any advance, Mornelótë?” Eärlindë’s words caught you off guard, and you turned to her, trying desperately to keep the sparkle of hope from betraying you. Her knowing smile only deepened as she continued. “Some of the maidens have tried, trust me, but he only has eyes for you.”
Her voice held a teasing lilt, but there was sincerity in her gaze. She paused for a moment, the hint of a youthful grin lighting her face. “I think you both are acting like two juveniles, dancing around what is so apparent to everyone else.”
The heat rose to your cheeks, and you quickly looked away, pretending to busy yourself with the basket of soiled linen in your arms. The weight of her words settled over you, and your thoughts spun with the possibilities they suggested. You dared not let the hope grow too strong—it was too fragile, too precious—but the warmth in your chest was impossible to ignore.
As the two of you approached the water’s edge, the gentle murmur of the stream mingled with the sound of Eärlindë’s soft laughter. You glanced at her from the corner of your eye, your heart both lifted and burdened by her words, the ache of your longing now tempered by a faint glimmer of possibility.
Laying his hammer down, Mairon removed his leather apron with practiced ease and draped it neatly over the wooden table. With a cloth in hand, he wiped the soot and grime from his face and clothing, a faint smile touching his lips. There was a quiet satisfaction in this work, in being the Master for once—a role he had never truly held, always serving under the will of another.
Now, he found a new joy in shaping not only metal but the minds of the young men who apprenticed under him. Their eager hands followed his guidance, their unformed talents beginning to take shape under his instruction. Through them, he could nurture his love for creation, order, and harmony, weaving his ideals into the very fabric of their craft.
They, of course, knew nothing of the depths of his true skill or the shadowed history that accompanied it. Nor did they grasp the full nature of the one they called Master—a being forged in fire and ambition, whose light was entwined with darkness. It was better that way, he thought. For now, he could simply revel in the act of creation, even as the weight of his true self lingered just beneath the surface.
Though echoes of his past still stirred in the depths of his fëa, haunting him in quiet moments, Mairon pressed onward. Sleep was a luxury he rarely indulged in, for he had no true need of it. Instead, his nights were consumed with work—designs and creations meant for other purposes. But not all his labors were practical or mundane. Some were more indulgent, more personal.
He toiled over creations of vanity, shaping wonders of unmatched beauty, treasures that no one could mistake for the work of another.
Jewelry for an elven maiden.
The one whose heart harmonized with his own, your soprano a perfect counterpoint to his baritone, weaving a melody that resonated through the very fabric of his being.
Jewelry making had never been a craft he favored; his love was for the grand and the enduring, for structures and tools that shaped the world itself. Yet for you, he found himself drawn to this finer art. He imagined the way the delicate pieces might adorn you, enhancing the radiance that already surpassed the stars.
He would do it for you—for the chance to see you graced with jewels forged by the same hands that had once shaped mountains and rivers. For the chance to give you something as eternal and exquisite as the bond that tethered his fëa to yours.
So he toiled deep into the night, his chamber filled with the faint glow of candlelight and the sound of his quill scratching across parchment. Designs littered the room, crumpled and discarded in frustration, none meeting the impossible standard he sought. His mind, normally so precise, faltered in its pursuit of perfection. Inspiration eluded him, and the longer he worked, the more the ache in his chest grew—a dull, unrelenting reminder of all he had lost.
In a rare moment of reprieve, Mairon leaned back, twirling the silver band between his fingers. It was a relic of an age long past, forged under the light of the Two Lamps before their destruction. The silver gleamed softly, its surface unmarred by time, yet the inscription on its outer curve remained obscured. It was as if the words had been veiled from his sight, their meaning withheld by some unseen power. His darkened heart throbbed faintly with the weight of it, an ache he could neither name nor escape.
He pondered the mystery, his mind drifting. Would the inscription return if he placed the ring upon your finger? Could your light, so pure and untouched, rekindle the meaning lost to him? Or was it gone forever, another casualty of his fall from grace? Perhaps it was a folly to even imagine such a thing. He had turned from Aman, from the purity of its light, and sworn himself to Melkor. What right did he have to hope for redemption—or to dream of you?
With a bitter sigh, he set the ring on the wooden table before him, its gleam dulled in the shadowed room. The thought nagged at him, unwelcome and relentless: something created in the brilliance of the Lamps could never truly shine in his grasp. His hands, once vessels of beauty and creation, had spent countless ages forging horrors in the dark halls of Angband, weapons to enslave and destroy the very people he now walked among. What right had he to even look at you, let alone dream of binding his fëa to yours?
Melkor’s voice echoed in his mind, a phantom that had never truly left him. He could almost hear the cruel laughter, sharp and biting, as if his former master stood before him. “You grow soft, Mairon,” the voice sneered. “Do you truly think she would accept you if she knew whose servant you were?”
And worse, Melkor would twist the blade deeper: “You are weak. A servant, nothing more. You were never meant to be a master—you exist only to obey.”
The rage surged in Mairon’s chest, hot and all-consuming, threatening to break free. He clenched his fists, the silver band forgotten on the table, as memories flooded his mind. When the Valar had come for Melkor, when Tulkas himself had dragged the Dark Lord screaming into the Void, Mairon had fled. He had abandoned his master, not out of defiance but out of fear—fear of what repentance might mean, fear of the light he had once embraced, fear of losing himself entirely.
And so he had wandered, hiding in shadow, evading both the eyes of the Valar and the judgment he knew awaited him. Melkor’s most faithful servant had become a coward, and though the Valar had never found him, he had never stopped fearing the day his master might return.
For when Melkor returned, there would be no forgiveness.
The thought chilled him. Melkor would exact vengeance with cruelty unmatched, and Mairon could imagine it all too vividly: his body torn apart, limb by limb, only to be pieced together again for further torment. And worse—Melkor would use you against him. He would fill Mairon’s mind with visions of your suffering, your demise crafted in every horrifying way his master’s twisted imagination could conjure.
“You will know, Mairon,” the phantom voice whispered in his mind. “You will remember who the master is. And you will bow.”
He shook his head violently, dispelling the dark thoughts before they could consume him. The candlelight flickered as if in response, casting long, wavering shadows across the room. His hands trembled, and his jaw tightened as he forced himself to breathe.
But the silver ring lay there, unmoving, its quiet gleam a reminder of the harmony he longed for and the darkness that would never let him have it.
So now, as he stepped away from his forge and toward the sweet, melodic sound of laughter drifting from the stream’s edge, Mairon allowed a small, wistful smile to grace his lips. He would find the courage to let your light pierce the darkness within him, to fill the hollow ache in his heart with warmth once more. Even if it was only for a fleeting moment, a brief chapter in the eternity that weighed upon him, he would cherish it—this harmony with you—before the shadows of his past claimed him again.
The sound of laughter and playful giggling grew louder as Mairon approached, cresting like a song reaching its peak. His steps slowed as the scene unfolded before him—you, radiant and carefree, and Eärlindë, your lively companion and the fisherman’s daughter who seemed to bring out the childlike joy in you.
This time, the two of you were engaged in a game so simple, so innocent, it could only belong to children—or those who had momentarily cast aside their burdens. You splashed each other with water, squealing and laughing as the forgotten task of washing linens lay abandoned on the stream’s edge.
Mairon stood still, watching, captivated by the sight. He did not know what lighthearted whim had brought you to this, but it filled him with a warmth he had thought long lost—a warmth he had not felt since the golden days under the Lamps or the shimmering glow of the Trees. It was a fleeting joy, a glimpse of something pure, untouched by shadow, and for a moment, it eased the ache within him.
Though his time watching you was intrrupted, and with his courage wavering he sulked back into the shadows of the forest.
“Calandil!” Eärlindë called out, her laughter trailing off as she noticed the tall warrior striding toward the water’s edge. You turned, catching sight of him just as he approached. “Brother, it is so good to see you once more,” she said brightly, moving to greet him. He chuckled, his arms wrapping around her in a warm embrace.
“It warms my heart to see you both well,” he said, his voice deep and steady, though his gaze shifted to you with a mock sternness. “Though I see neither of you has grown past your childish ways.”
You shrugged with a playful smile as Eärlindë swatted at his chest. “And you must tell us of your adventures! Surely traveling with the great Finwë has brought many tales of might and glory?”
Calandil looked down at his younger sister, his expression softening as he chuckled. “I can certainly share my stories,” he said, a hint of fondness in his tone. “But first, Mother requests that both of you join us for supper—if you are finished acting like unruly youths.” He winked at you, the playful gesture enough to draw a flush to your cheeks. It was not the searing heat Mairon could stir in you, but Calandil’s admiration for you was clear, as it always had been. His devotion had been unwavering, and you knew he would not let Mairon claim your heart without a fight, should it ever come to that.
Eärlindë laughed, but her words came with a teasing lilt that betrayed their sincerity. “Come now, brother, Mornelótë is pledged to another.”
Calandil’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression turning curious as he released his sister and stepped closer to you. “Is she now?” he asked, raising a brow in challenge. “Do show me this man who is worthy of your beauty, Meldanya.” The endearment, rich and unguarded, slipped from his lips effortlessly, and you felt your cheeks warm again under his gaze.
“Eärlindë speaks of things she should not,” you said sharply, your glare shifting to her as she began gathering the freshly washed linen, clearly pleased with herself. Ignoring your scolding look, she stepped away from Calandil with an innocent smile, leaving you to wade back to the shore alone.
Calandil moved toward you, stretching out a hand in assistance, but you hesitated and did not take it. Your heart was already bound, and his kindness, though genuine, could not sway the truth that sang within you.
For all of Eärlindë’s teasing, she had not lied. Your heart was pledged, irrevocably so, to the fiery being who worked tirelessly at the forge. To the man whose gaze met yours with a resonance that echoed the very fabric of creation. Every stolen glance, every imagined touch, every unspoken word that lingered in your thoughts was his. His song was intertwined with yours, the melody eternal and undeniable.
Even if it took an age, you would wait for him. You would wait for Mairon with a patience your heart could barely bear, even if the ache of longing threatened to consume you. For you knew, in the depths of your fëa, that your destiny was bound to his, as surely as the sun to the day and the moon to the night.
As you walked in step with Eärlindë and Calandil toward their parents’ home, your thoughts were elsewhere, your gaze drawn instinctively toward the forge. There he was, Mairon, toiling away in the amber glow of his craft, the movements of his hands precise and almost hypnotic. You chewed the inside of your cheek, hesitating as the urge to go to him warred with your sense of decorum.
Calandil noticed your faltering stride and gently grasped your arm, his touch careful yet questioning. “Mornelótë?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with concern. You turned your eyes to him, offering a gentle smile in reassurance, though your heart felt anything but settled.
“I will join you both in a moment,” you said, your tone steady though your resolve wavered.
Eärlindë, ever perceptive, tightened her grip on her brother’s hand and gave him a slight tug, motioning toward the man in the forge with a knowing look before pulling him along down the street. You caught the fleeting exchange as Calandil’s gaze darkened momentarily, his expression hardening as he glanced toward the fiery-haired smith. He thought he masked it well, but you saw the flicker of disapproval in his eyes, a silent challenge cast toward Mairon.
For a brief moment, you lingered there, the weight of Calandil’s protective nature pressing against the pull of the melody that tied you to Mairon. And as the siblings disappeared around the corner, you drew a steadying breath, steeling yourself for what would come next.
“Are you taking commissions?” you asked softly, stepping closer to Mairon’s forge. The heat of the embers radiated toward you, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of his presence. He had sensed your approach long before you spoke, and as you drew near, he paused his work, setting his tools aside with practiced ease.
“Not at the moment,” he replied smoothly, his voice carrying a note of intrigue, “but what does the lady have in mind?” The smile that curved his lips was magnetic, drawing you closer as you leaned your hip against the edge of his work table. Your cheeks warmed, not just from the heat of the forge but from the intensity of his gaze. You hadn’t yet thought of what you might request, and the realization made you hesitate.
Mairon’s eyes glimmered with amusement, and he chuckled softly, seeing through your pretense. “If you wished only to speak with me,” he said warmly, “you needn’t invent an excuse. You are always welcome.”
Your gaze fell to the table, shame blooming in your chest as his words hung in the air. You turned over the thoughts that had plagued you for so long. Mairon was a master of his craft, a smith whose skill could rival the greatest of the Noldor. His creations were coveted by lords and envied by those who could never match his artistry. And you? You were a simple maiden, without standing or title, your only claim being the quiet, unassuming life you led among your kin.
How could he ever lower himself to someone like you, whose worth seemed so insignificant in comparison to the brilliance of his presence and the magnitude of his skill? The thought weighed heavily on your fëa, and yet, the melody that resonated between you refused to be silenced. It called to you still, whispering of possibilities you dared not believe.
“I do wish for something,” you breathed softly into the warm glow of the forge, the embers casting flickering light into his emerald eyes. They seemed to burn with the same intensity as the fire behind him. “But I hardly believe you would lower yourself to it.” The words felt heavy with doubt, and you averted your gaze, surprised at the vulnerability that spilled from you. It was the effect he had on you, the way his presence unraveled all your carefully guarded composure.
Mairon tilted his head, a flicker of curiosity and tenderness crossing his features. Without hesitation, he stepped closer, his dirtied hand reaching beneath your delicate chin to guide your gaze back to his. The warmth of his touch sent a ripple of comfort through you as his steady eyes met yours.
“My dear,” he began, his voice as smooth as flowing silver, “there is no request you could ever utter that would be lower than I.” His thumb traced softly along your cheek, his touch grounding you even as it made your heart race. “For I am the lower being. You are the finest creation—one even my hands could never have shaped, no matter how much I might wish for it.”
A heat bloomed in your cheeks at his words, a shy smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. His own lips curled into a satisfied smile, clearly pleased with the way he had chased the doubt from your mind.
“Then—” you began, your throat tightening as your lips struggled to articulate the thought swirling in your heart. The hesitation felt insurmountable, the weight of your emotions too great to put into words.
“Mori,” he murmured softly, the affectionate nickname slipping from his lips like a caress. It was a name he alone had given you, a kindness that turned the town’s harsh moniker into something beautiful. “Please, do not hide your desires from me. I only wish to fulfill them with all my heart.”
His words, tender and unyielding, stirred something deep within you, and the harmony of your shared fëar swelled in unspoken promise.
He meant every word of his promise, and the warmth of his gaze gave you the courage to finally speak the desire that had lived in your heart for so long. “Craft me a ring,” you whispered, your voice steady yet soft, “so I may bind myself to you, and our fëar may finally sing in the song that only we shall know.”
For a moment, his emerald eyes widened, a flicker of surprise lighting their depths. But then, a slow, tender smile graced his lips as he leaned closer, his grime-streaked nose brushing against yours in a gesture so intimate it made your heart flutter. “And what,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection, “if I already have one?”
Your hands lifted of their own accord, your fingers gently tracing the contours of his face, brushing away the soot that clung to his skin. “Then place it upon my finger,” you said, the words filled with quiet certainty, “and let us wed, as I know we both desire to.”
The forge’s warm glow wrapped around the two of you, and for a moment, the world fell away, leaving only the unspoken harmony that sang between your souls, ready to be bound for eternity.
Mairon slipped the silver band onto your finger, the very band he had forged so long ago in the days when the yearning for an unknown being had first stirred in his fëa. Now, he realized, you were that being—the one he had unknowingly crafted it for, the one whose presence had filled the void that once consumed him. As the bluish inscription glimmered to life upon the silver surface, the fear that had long plagued him faded. His fëa reached out instinctively, and he felt yours respond, the tendrils intertwining as the bond between you sealed, eternal and unbreakable.
“It is beautiful,” you murmured, holding the ring up to the light of the forge. Its glow danced upon your features, and your words were filled with wonder. “Fairest of maidens, in the moonlight, you shall find me, for we are never truly parted.”
Your voice, soft yet sure, carried the words etched into the band—a mystery that had haunted him for ages. He had not known their meaning when he inscribed them, guided only by the melody in his heart. But now, as you spoke them aloud, they resonated with a truth that made his chest tighten. A smile graced his lips, and his hand lifted to cup your chin once more, his touch tender yet possessive, as if to ensure you would never slip away.
“I would find you even in darkness, my sweet Mairon,” you whispered, the words laced with conviction, “nothing could ever take me from you.”
Oh, how he longed to believe it, to cling to the hope that your love could withstand all that might come. Yet in the depths of his heart, he knew there were forces that could tear you apart—forces far beyond his control. Still, he let the moment linger, cherishing the promise your words carried, a vow he held onto with fervent desperation. Even if the darkness claimed him once more, even if time itself conspired against you, he would find you. For your bond, sealed now and forever, would endure, waiting to reunite you at another point in the endless melody of creation.
Your breath hitched as he leaned closer, his emerald eyes fluttering shut, and your heart swelled in anticipation. After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the song that had bound your fëar to his was about to reach its crescendo. The air in the forge grew stiflingly warm, his fiery presence enveloping you like the sweetest embrace. And then, after a moment that stretched endlessly, his lips met yours.
The world around you dissolved as the harmony of your shared melody surged to life, wrapping around you both like an intricate, unbreakable thread. It was delicate yet unyielding, a reflection of the bond you had nurtured and the longing you had endured.
His kiss was soft at first, tender and reverent, but the intensity grew quickly, as though he could no longer contain the depth of his desire. His lips teased at yours, pulling at your bottom lip, and his touch deepened, exploring the taste of your sweetness as if it were a gift he could scarcely believe was his to claim.
His strong arms encircled you, drawing you closer against him, as if he feared you might slip away. In his embrace, the forge’s heat was nothing compared to the fire that surged between you, igniting a connection that felt as eternal as the stars.
The moment shattered as you felt a firm arm snatch you away from Mairon’s grasp, tearing you from the warmth and harmony you had longed for. Your blissed-out mind struggled to catch up, your lips still tingling, aching to feel his pillowy kiss once more.
Blinking, you turned to face the intruder, your tongue sharp and ready to scorn whoever dared interrupt—but the words caught in your throat as your gaze met white hair and piercing blue eyes. Calandil.
A lump formed in your throat as the intensity of his expression struck you. His eyes burned with a fury that rivaled Ulmo’s great wrath, his jaw clenched as though he were holding back the full force of his anger.
“Mornelótë,” he said, his voice low but trembling with restrained rage, “what is this?”
You swallowed hard, your throat dry as your eyes darted back to Mairon. Your heart sank at the sight of his darkened gaze fixed on Calandil, his emerald eyes now sharp and unreadable. In all your prayers to the Valar, you had hoped this moment would never come to pass, this clash between the fiery smith and the stalwart warrior.
The weight of the silver ring on your fourth finger pressed against you like an anchor, a stark reminder of the bond you had chosen. The luminous inscription, which had moments ago filled you with joy, now felt heavy under Calandil’s burning scrutiny.
Words faltered on your tongue. You did not know what to say to Calandil, his expression a storm of betrayal and fury. Nor did you dare let Mairon speak, for fear of the provocation that might follow. Calandil’s anger simmered just beneath the surface, and you knew too well the rashness that could overtake him in such a state.
Desperation filled your chest as you stood between them, caught in the rising tension, praying silently that the fragile harmony of the moment might somehow be preserved. But it was not to be and among your silence, Calandil pulled you from between them and walked over to the smith.
“You think you can come here,” Calandil hissed, his voice trembling with barely contained fury, “share in our goods, take up the post as our city’s smith, and all would be well.” He stepped closer, his face now mere inches from Mairon’s, his posture bristling with indignation.
You moved instinctively to intervene, your heart racing as the tension between them grew. “Calandil—” you began, but your words were cut short as he pushed you gently but firmly back to where you had been standing. The action left you stunned, a flicker of concern flashing in Mairon’s eyes as he glanced briefly toward you. But the moment passed, and his attention returned to Calandil, his expression composed but steely.
“And now,” Calandil growled, his voice low and sharp, “you wish to defile one of our maidens?” His words dripped with venom, and your breath caught at the accusation.
“Calandil, please, it is not like that at all,” you pleaded, your voice trembling as you stepped forward once more. But the elf turned to you sharply, his blazing blue eyes cutting through you like a blade.
“You will silence your tongue,” he barked, the force of his words making you flinch. Tears threatened to spill as you gazed up at him, the sting of his harsh tone a bitter reminder of how much had changed.
This was not the Calandil you had known—the gentle, soft-spoken elf who had once protected and cherished you. His time away, wherever Finwë had sent him, had transformed him. It was clear now that the journey to the West had not been what he had hoped. The brightness that once filled him seemed dulled, replaced by a hardened anger that lashed out, even at you.
He would never have spoken to you this way before, nor would he have jumped to such cruel accusations. Something deeper was wrong within him, and it pained you to see it, even as his fury consumed the moment.
To your surprise, Mairon had remained silent, his lips pressed into a firm line as his piercing gaze stayed locked on the elf before him. He made no effort to defend himself, no attempt to argue against Calandil’s fury. But then your breath caught as you noticed his hand slowly glide toward one of the tools laid on the worktable. The motion was subtle, deliberate, and it sent a chill down your spine.
You shook your head sharply at him, your silent plea carried through the threads of your bond, tugging gently but urgently at his fëa. Don’t. Your eyes met his, wide with stress and desperation, imploring him to let it go.
For a long, tense moment, Mairon regarded you. Then, with a subtle exhale, he shifted his hand away from the tool, resting it instead on the edge of the table. Relief washed over you, though the tension in the air remained thick and unyielding.
Calandil turned back to him, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. “What do you have to say for yourself, smith?” he demanded, straightening to his full height, his presence radiating authority and challenge.
Finally, Mairon’s voice filled the forge, smooth and steady, its calmness a stark contrast to the storm brewing between them.
“I hardly defile your maidens,” Mairon said smoothly, his tone calm but firm. “For I have asked Mornelótë for her hand.” His emerald gaze remained steady as he watched Calandil’s reaction, the disbelief flashing in the other elf’s blue eyes like a storm. To Mairon’s mild satisfaction, there was more than disbelief there—there was hurt. It was subtle but unmistakable, a crack in the warrior’s hardened facade.
“Is this true?” Calandil asked, his voice low but edged with emotion. His piercing gaze flickered toward you, searching for the truth in your expression.
Mairon didn’t move, his heart attuned to yours, pulling at your fëa as though urging you to speak. Say the words, and be mine, he thought silently, his eyes never leaving you. He could see the conflict in your watery gaze, the way your throat worked as you struggled to form the words.
Finally, you took a trembling breath and answered, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, Calandil,” you said, your tone resolute despite the emotion laced within it. “His song matches mine in every melody known, and I cannot ignore what is destined.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with truth, as Calandil’s expression shifted, his hurt deepening. But your declaration was unshakable, your choice made. And Mairon, though calm in his outward appearance, felt his heart surge with a quiet triumph.
For all his darkness, Mairon felt a light and warmth now that rivaled what he had once known in Aman. You were his, and nothing could compare to the quiet triumph that swelled within him as your declaration echoed in the forge.
But the moment was fleeting. Calandil’s fist struck hard against Mairon’s cheek, the force of the blow staggering him backward. Pain bloomed sharp and immediate, but Mairon steadied himself, his gaze flickering briefly toward the enraged elf. He knew well that elves rarely turned to violence unless driven by absolute necessity. But the fury in Calandil’s eyes mirrored something Mairon recognized all too clearly—the same blazing fire he himself once bore in service to Melkor. It was the look of a predator consumed by wrath, striking without mercy or thought.
The blows came again, one after another, but Mairon did not retaliate. He stood firm, enduring the onslaught with a stoic resilience that only seemed to fuel Calandil’s rage. Each strike was met with silence, Mairon’s emerald eyes calm despite the chaos around him.
For Mairon knew. These blows, these moments of fury, would one day be avenged—not through violence, but through the quiet and unshakable bond that had been forged between you and him. In time, his triumph would echo louder than any fists could, and Calandil’s fury would fade into nothingness against the weight of destiny.
Though as he looked up at his attacker, he felt something else. The silent but deadly voice of his master. “You weak being, letting a mere mortal torment you over something so beneath you. I should flay you for your weakness.” Mairon’s eyes clamped shut as the taunting laughter and more degrading words echoed through his mind. His rage over came him and he pushed Calandil back with a forceful kick of his boot. The elf fell back on to the stone floor of the forge and in his consumed fury Mairon did something, he had never wished for you to see.
His fingers wrapped around the elf’s neck, squeezing down on his windpipe, drawing the air from his lungs. “She is mine,” he snarled at the choking elf. Eyes black with fury as the dark lines of his true nature stretched underneath his eyes. “Her fëa sings for mine, elf, not yours and you will do well to remember what Eru proclaimed in existence. Her destiny is with me.” Mairon snarled. Though in all his consumed fury and rage, your voice cut through him like a knife.
“Stop it,” You cried out. “Stop it, your hurting him.” You continued with tears in your eyes as he looked up to see the fear and desperation for him to cease his tight grasp on Calandil’s throat. That tiny amount of light inside him pulling and flowing once more, softening his gaze until he released the elf’s neck. Mairon moved off him and sat back against the work bench, trying his hardest to regain his breath as Calandil took in what he had been deprived of.
"Is there a problem here?" The question cut through the tension like a blade, as two guardsmen approached, their boots crunching against the cobblestones. Their stern gazes flicked between you and the commotion, shadows from the burning forge dancing across their faces. You turned, mouth half-open, ready to explain, but before your words could find air, Calandil surged forward, his voice trembling with a mix of fury and triumph.
"Arrest this man!" he commanded, pointing an accusatory finger, his hand shaking with indignation. "He dares to lay his filthy hands on me!" His breath came in ragged gasps, his face flushed, and the gleam in his eyes was that of someone savoring the power of the moment.
Mairon stared at the man in disbelief, the faint metallic tang of blood sharp on his lips as he wiped it away with the back of his hand. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, but his glare remained fixed, defiant even in pain. You turned sharply as the guardsmen approached, their deliberate steps carrying them toward Mairon, their expressions unyielding and devoid of question.
“Please,” you said, your tone steady yet pleading, like a balm over the fraying tension. “It was only a minor dispute. Escort my lord back to his home so he may recover in peace. I will see to our faithful smith.” The two elves exchanged a brief glance before inclining their heads to you. Wordlessly, they bent to hoist Calandil to his feet, the defeated lord sputtering protests as they guided him away.
You crossed the space to Mairon, your steps quiet but deliberate. His body sagged slightly, the tension in his shoulders melting away. Relief washed over him like the cool mist of a morning breeze, and his eyes fluttered closed as if seeking refuge behind the darkness of his lids.
You couldn’t suppress the flicker of satisfaction that stirred within you at his eventual defense of your honor. Yet, the events that followed left a shadow over your heart, a chill that gripped you tighter with each passing moment. The gentle, soft-spoken Mairon you had always known seemed to dissolve before your eyes, giving way to a darkness—raw, potent, and unfamiliar. It was a presence unlike anything you had felt in all your countless years among the spirits and the nurturing embrace of Arda.
Your fingers moved instinctively, tracing the curve of his split lip, the skin rough beneath your touch. They traveled upward, brushing aside strands of his fiery red hair, damp and clinging to his sweat-slicked brow, to reveal the bruised cheek beneath. The sight tugged at something deep within you, and you let out a soft tsk, the sound both chiding and affectionate. A faint smile curved your lips, tender yet tinged with unease.
“My sweet Mairon,” you whispered, your breath mingling with his as you settled yourself fully onto his lap, your knees bracketing him, steadying him as your hands ghosted over his injuries. Each touch was careful, reverent, as though the very act of tending to him might erase the pain he had endured. “You didn’t need to take such blows for my sake.”
A strong hand rose, his fingers curling around your left one with a firm yet tender grasp. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and the familiar softness of his emerald gaze pierced through the lingering tension. Without breaking his gaze, his lips pressed a lingering kiss to the silver band on your ring finger, an unspoken vow in the tender act.
“You are worth every torturous blow,” he murmured, his voice low but unwavering. “If it means that each man in this city knows whose heart you hold, who you belong to.” Heat rushed to your cheeks at his words, and your face warmed despite the coolness of the room.
“Mori,” he continued, his voice laced with an almost pleading tone, “I love you with all my being and wish for nothing but your happiness. Though I am sorry you had to see that side of me.” His tone shifted, laden with regret, but before he could say more, you silenced him with a soft shush, your free hand rising to cup his bruised cheek. Your thumb moved in delicate circles, careful not to worsen his pain, your touch a balm to his unspoken wounds.
“I love every inch of you, Mairon,” you said, your voice steady and filled with truth, “even the darker parts of you.” The weight of your words hung between you, unnoticed by you, but searing into him. For in that single, sincere statement, you unknowingly etched the lines of your destiny—an ending that would sear your place aside one of Melkor’s dark servants for eternity.
For now there would never be a place for you in the Blessed Realm. No white ship could bear this burden of darkness that you had pledged yourself too.
26 notes
·
View notes
Note
The rag rug is awesome! How is it done?
Thanks! The short answer is that it's a braided rag rug, using the braid-as-you-go method. Basically, this tutorial. I am not trying very hard to make sure the strips of fabric are the same size, and I'm not minding the edges of the fabrics being exposed. I'm also using the no-sew method of joining more strips of fabric as I go, and just kind of having fun with it? So far it's turning out well!
#ask away!#graaaaceeliz#wait I just realized my other rug in progress could also be considered a rag rug#I haven't posted about that one in a while though so I'm assuming you mean the braided one#someone suggested I could turn it into a basket#and I have done that with the sewn-and-batting version I've made before#but this rug has zero structural integrity#it's very soft and floppy and could not support itself enough to be a basket#so I will find a place for it to be a rug lol
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Meet-Cute
Old Man!Logan x fem! reader
summary: Failed talking stages inspire you to meet someone irl. Riding an older man in the backseat of his limo makes you forget about the immature boys who ghosted you on Hinge. Ch. 2 Ch. 3 warnings: MDNI, no use of y/n, smut, age gap, reader is 21+, fingering, riding, size difference, praise kink, pet names (doll, baby, sweet/good girl, sweetheart), unprotected p in v, light slapping, oral (male!receiving), creampie, car sex (nobody's around tho), logan's slutty glasses. wc: 3k
Hinge. The app designed to be deleted. You smiled as you pushed the cart, daydreaming about chucking your phone into the nearest lake. The few matches that you received often ghosted you after a week, afraid of committing to a real date.
So here you were, aimlessly strolling through a grocery store. Desperately begging the universe for a real man.
You spent an embarrassingly long time curating the perfect outfit to attract a guy worth your time. Casual enough for a quick errand, but still chic. I want to be with someone who admires my confidence. They shouldn't reprimand me for expressing myself.
That's how the feminist part of your brain explained your attire. The other touch-starved half, however, wanted to wear the shortest skirt you owned just to feel men stare holes through it.
You turned into the bakery aisle and pretended to evaluate the nutritional contents of a massive chocolate cake. Maybe this could be plan B, if tonight's endeavor was hopeless.
The comforting hum of fluorescent lights softened the sterile environment around you. Memories of simpler times floated in your mind. Handmade school lunches. Gentle kisses placed on your knee after a bad fall. You closed your eyes, lulled by the promises of love you were granted as a child. Now an adult, you yearned for a partner that could nurture you in a romantic way.
Logan overheard a bag of produce spill onto the floor as he picked up a shopping basket. The cashier dropped it when he saw Logan's blood-stained dress shirt.
Mumbling a string of profanity, he decided to release some steam. "Show's over!" he snapped, flippantly tossing his right arm behind him.
Ignoring the shocked gasps of the other shoppers, Logan sulked further into the store in search of something to soothe his palate.
His doctor tentatively ordered him to "lay off the booze," a suggestion that left three deep puncture wounds in the drywall of his office. Alcohol numbed the emotional and physical pain that plagued him, but it also further delayed his healing powers.
Logan's skeleton was withering away, and all he wanted was a fucking sweet treat.
Your body braced for impact as your chest made contact with a shopper haphazardly turning into the aisle. After dropping the cake onto the pristine white tile, you closed your eyes again, salvaging the moment of peace that was stolen from you.
"Hey, watch where you're going, asshole." You reluctantly opened your eyes and were met with the solid torso of a man.
Slowly raking your gaze up his body, you raised your eyebrows at the sight of his bloody shirt before meeting his narrowed eyes.
Crows feet radiating from the corners. Prescription glasses. He appeared much older than you expected from your brief contact with his chest.
You silently cursed your luck. This meet-cute plan was steadily evolving into a meet-angry situation.
"Not smart to close your eyes in public," he huffed, staring pointedly at the fallen cake. It was hard not to notice your mini skirt. He hasn't seen a skirt that short since the 60s.
Although you had pulled away from him, the man's eyes lingered on your chest. The playful baby-doll top hugged your cleavage in all the right places. Your glossy lips donned a similar shade of pink. He quickly resumed eye contact, feeling like a dirty old man for imagining them wrapped around his cock.
She's too young, you sick fuck. Logan's internal monologue worked overtime to maintain a shred of decency.
Your face turned away from him at the impending embarrassment you were about to put yourself through. Smirking, you shyly retorted, "Not smart to stare at a girl's tits in public." You gently pushed up his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose.
Closing the gap between your chests, you tip-toed to reach his ear before whispering, "It's okay . . . I want you to."
The answer to Logan's suffering was sweeter than any slice of cake he could have indulged in. A pretty little thing was actually flirting with him, a cynical ex-soldier worn by the unforgiving rings of time.
Logan's hands found the back of your elbows and slowly pulled you closer to him. You gasped as you felt his belt buckle catch on the flimsy fabric of your top.
"Careful, doll," he grunted, leaning down to meet the side of your face. "I'm old enough to be your father."
You defiantly peered up at him through your lashes. "Yeah, and . . .?"
The man slowly distanced himself from you, gently tugging the hem of your top down to its original state.
Okay, definitely not the best response to seduce an older man. You chewed the inside of your cheek, stunned by your juvenile comeback.
"I'm sorry, kid. Forget I said anything," he muttered before turning into another aisle. He mentally kicked himself for letting the interaction go that far. Although his aching body and mind yearned for some relief, he wouldn't take advantage of some young girl.
He hurriedly stomped past the cashiers, swiping a few cigars from a distracted employee's station.
After the initial shock wore off, you quickly followed the older man to the parking lot. Totally not stalker-ish at all, right?
You wanted to take care of him. His reluctance to return your lust-sick gaze should have deterred you, but it only made you more desperate.
You watched as his hands dug into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. The chipper click of the limo doors unlocking motivated you to get his attention.
"Hey! Can we talk?" You yelled, raising an outstretched palm to stop him from getting inside the car.
Logan froze at the sound of your voice. He contemplated being responsible, slamming his door and driving off without a second glance.
The gentle pressure of your hand wrapping around his wrist made him think extremely irresponsible thoughts.
Turning around to meet your gaze, the older man swiftly opened the passenger door. "Get in. Now," he growled.
Words betrayed you. All you responded with was a surprised squeak as he used your grip on his wrist to push you further into the vehicle.
His eyes widened as you briefly parted your thighs to get settled in the lush leather seat. The sinfully short hem of your skirt bunched up, revealing your underwear.
Logan whipped his head to the front of the limo, avoiding the sight of your body. Unfortunately, he couldn't avoid how you felt against his. You sat at an angle towards him, knees pressing against his thigh. His body tensed as you placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Why were you following me, huh?" he asked, finally meeting your eyes. "I've had a long fuckin' day and I need answers." He couldn't believe that a young woman like you would be interested in him.
"Yeah, you're old enough to be my father, maybe older-" you paused to move your left hand onto his thigh. "-but I'm done playing with boys." You shyly turned your head before continuing, "Need a real man."
Logan was done holding back. Now, it all made sense. Your lack of direction in the store, the low cut of your outfit that was way too sexy for a late night grocery run. We're both adults, he reasoned. She wants this.
He gingerly cradled your jaw with his large hand, turning your head towards his. "You sure about this, sweetheart?
You covered his hand with your own, bringing your lips to his in a spontaneous kiss. "I-I need to hear you," he stuttered.
"Shut up and fuck me, . . . " you sighed, pausing to ask for his name.
"Logan . . . call me Logan, doll." His left hand snaked around your waist, bunching the delicate material and exposing your breasts.
As you leaned into his palm, he fished the limo keys out of his pocket and clicked twice, locking the doors. He fondled the underside of your tits before rolling the sensitive nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
You were grateful for the tinted windows that shielded your embarrassing moans from the public.
"Already whining for me, hm? So fuckin' needy," he hummed, pushing up your top even further. You crossed your arms to undress, but Logan swatted them away, explaining, "It's cute. Wanna see your tits bounce for me, baby."
He gripped your ass with both hands and effortlessly swung you onto the broad expanse of his lap.
Your back arched as his rough palm cupped your pussy, thumb languidly tracing your sensitive bud through the cotton.
"But this . . . has to go," he drawled, tugging the elastic of your panties before letting it go with a faint snap.
It was too much. You were splayed over the lap of a stranger, hips wantonly rocking yourself over his prominent bulge and mewling as your sensitive clit caught on the rough fabric of his slacks.
He stilled your movements with his hands, lovingly kneading the flesh of your hips. "You okay with this?" he asked, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. "Yeah, Logan . . . more than okay. Need you."
You loved that he was confident enough to take what he wanted but also gracious enough to check in, unlike the boys you were used to fucking around with.
His fingers hooked around the waistband of your skirt and panties, skillfully pushing your legs against your chest as he pulled them off. He decided against slicing them off with his claws, not wanting to hurt you. "Fuck. You're so pretty. My sweet, sweet girl . . ." he cooed. You whined as your aching cunt was finally exposed to Logan's hungry gaze and the chill night air. He groaned as you resumed desecrating his lap with your juices.
Your breath hitched as Logan traced two fingers along your bottom lip. You granted him access, playfully darting your tongue around his digits.
After his fingers were thoroughly soaked, he used your saliva to gently trace your hole, noticing the faint flutter of your walls.
"Need me to fill you up, hm? Poor baby's clenching around nothing. Let me fix that . . ." Logan's palm brushed against your clit as his fingers plunged into you, setting a steady pace.
You were incredibly wet, but he needed to prep you for his thick cock. He drooled, collecting a heavy wad of spit onto his tongue before letting it fall onto your pussy.
"Ah-ah!" You exclaimed, surprised by the contact. You bit your lip, cheeks flushing at the lewd feeling of his spit mixing with your wetness.
He used his other hand to slap repeatedly against your puffy folds, mesmerized by how vulnerable you were being for him.
"Yeah, you like that?" He whispered, curling his fingers as they met your cervix. You covered your mouth, desperately trying to maintain some modesty. Logan withdrew his left hand to pry away your arm and swallow your moans, sloppily slotting his lips into yours.
You gasped into his mouth as you felt your cunt spasm around his fingers, gushing all over his tight slacks.
"Oh, fuck! Logan . . . " you mewled, biting his lower lip while he continued to finger you through your orgasm.
Your head fell into the inviting crook of his neck, nuzzling his graying beard. "Atta girl, come for me," he cooed.
Logan peered down at you, noticing wet droplets dampening his beard. You were silently crying, tears cascading down your puffy cheeks before landing on his face.
At first, he was alarmed. "Hey, hey, shhhh," he purred. "What's the matter, doll?"
His cock twitched when he realized you were smiling against his neck.
"Nothing's wrong, Logan . . . you make me feel so good, that's all."
He planted a sweet kiss on your forehead. "Yeah? Want me to make you feel even better? Fill you up for real this time?"
You nodded dumbly, still basking in the haze of your release.
"Nuh-uh. Words." The simple command made you rut into his lap.
You shuddered while responding. "Wanna feel you inside me. Need your-" Logan bucked up into you. "-cock."
He slid his hands under your thighs, briefly pushing you forward so he could unbuckle his belt. Your small hands slinked toward his waist. "Let me do it," you pleaded, hastily sliding his belt through its loops and tossing it to the floor.
You pulled his cock out of his slacks, leaning down to press sweet little kisses to the head. Your thighs burned with the effort, but it was worth it to feel him momentarily lose control. Logan hissed sharply, "Good girl, fuck-" before guiding his thick cock into your heavenly mouth.
You licked a prominent vein that teased its way above his waistband. The taste of him was utterly intoxicating. You moaned onto his length, choking back tears as he suddenly thrust up into your eager throat.
The delicious weight of his cock on your tongue was short-lived. He cupped your face, forcing your mouth to slide past the tip with an obscene pop.
"Won't last long if you keep doing that, doll. Takes a lot less to get me riled up these days," he explained.
You nodded as you straightened yourself, using your knees to hover above his lap. He teasingly ran the flushed tip of his cock through your folds before sinking into your weeping pussy.
"Oh my god! fuck-" you cried, lowering your hips to embrace his full length. Your hands found stability on Logan's shoulders as you bounced on his cock.
Logan stared in awe at your tits. They were practically spilling out the sides of your cute top, jiggling with each movement of your hips.
As he admired your form, you drunk in the sight of his coarse salt and pepper beard. His wiry glasses barely held onto the slope of his strong nose due to your eager movements. You paid special attention to his crimson-stained shirt, wondering how he was enduring the wounds.
"You're hurt." You stated, pausing to slowly unbutton his dress shirt.
Logan's hands grabbed a handful of your ass and slammed you down onto his lap, forcing you to continue taking his cock.
"Never said you could stop," he huffed. "It'll take time, but I'm healing."
You gasped as your clit hitched on the bunched fabric of his slacks, frantically shrugging off his shirt in the process. A devastating moan ripped from Logan's throat as you peppered kisses on his wounds. The coppery taste of his blood was oddly soothing, reminding you that the man buried in your cunt was real and not just a figment of your lust-fueled imagination.
Logan loved how dazed you looked, your chest rising and falling with each shaky breath, your pupils dilated and glossy. His cock twitched every time your soft tits brushed against his face. You whined as the steady rhythm of your hips faltered, hinting at your imminent release.
"Lean forward, baby. Let your old man take care of you," he sighed, wrapping his broad arms around your waist. You allowed yourself to slump forward, arching your back and playfully wiggling your ass in the air.
You yelped as he slapped your ass with enough force to feel the sting radiate from his outstretched palm. "Such a fuckin' tease," he growled, filling you up in one thrust. He set a punishing pace that made you sob into his chest. The loud squelches of your release echoed throughout the limo, mirroring your high-pitched wines.
"Oh, my god! . . ." you mewled, savoring the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. Your breath hitched every time his hips met yours, balls slapping against the sensitive skin of your ass.
He fucked up into your cunt, relishing the fact that you'd probably never had a cock as big as his. Logan stared at where you were connected, hypnotized by the subtle drag of your folds along his rugged length.
"Don't know what I did to deserve a pretty girl like you." His teeth tugged on the delicate strap of your top, exposing your breasts. His mouth enveloped the bud, gently sucking and pulling as they hardened.
"Logan . . . can't take it anymore. I'm close." You clenched around him, earning another hard slap on your ass.
"You gonna come for me sweetheart, hm?" He somehow increased his pace, hips drilling into your sensitive cunt. "C'mon, come all over my cock. Such a sweet young thing, so eager to please . . . " he hummed into your ear.
"And just so we're clear, I am definitely older than your father." His filthy words made you arch even higher, stilling your hips mid-air and allowing Logan to fuck you through your release.
The sound of you faintly chanting his name as you came sent him over the edge. "You can take it," he encouraged as your pathetic whines intermingled with his unabashed groans. His hips drove home, bouncing you harshly against his tense thighs and spilling into you with a low growl.
You almost blacked out at the feeling of his cum spurting into your walls, reaching even further when Logan buried his cock to the hilt. You clenched around him, overstimulated and thoroughly fucked.
"That's it, just relax . . . You look so pretty milking my cock," he praised, brushing stray hair away from your face.
You managed to sit upright and shakily moved to lift yourself off his cock, but Logan quickly steadied your hips. He's still hard, you realized, fascinated by his renewed vigor.
He panted, obviously just as spent as you were.
"So, uh, tomorrow, the Italian place on fifth street, 8 PM?"
You narrowed your eyes, incredibly confused at his choice of words after experiencing the best sex you've ever had.
"Our first date," he clarified. He kissed your cheek and you blushed at the contrast between the innocent action and the fact that his hard cock was still buried in your cunt. "After all, I'm a real man, right? And real men plan dates." He plastered on a cocky grin, repeating your earlier statements.
"Okay, old man. It's a date." You smiled, kissing his mouth with passion.
an: Ah!!! I had so much fun writing this. Old Man Logan, when will it be my turn >:[
#logan howlett#wolverine#logan smut#wolverine smut#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#old man logan#old man! logan#logan 2017#older man younger woman#marvel smut#wolverine fanfiction#logan howlett fanfiction#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool#logan howlett fanfic#x men#x men x reader#x men smut#x men fanfiction#mistyorchid fic
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
family thanksgiving with rafe
The house was alive with the warm chaos of Thanksgiving. The smell of roasting turkey wafted through the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses. Your family filled the rooms with lively conversations, stories, and the occasional outburst of sibling bickering.
Rafe stood at your side, looking every bit the charming Southern gentleman as he greeted your family. His crisp button-up was neatly tucked into dark jeans, and his hair was combed just enough to look presentable but still had that boyish disarray you loved.
For a guy who claimed to be nervous about meeting your family, he was doing an excellent job of keeping his cool.
“You didn’t tell me your mom could cook like this,” Rafe murmured into your ear as you both carried dishes to the dining room. His voice was low, teasing, but the way his hand brushed your lower back as you walked sent a thrill down your spine.
“Behave,” you warned, shooting him a playful glare.
He smirked, but his eyes held a mischievous gleam. “I’m always on my best behavior, sweetheart.”
That was a lie, and you both knew it.
The first time he pulled you aside was when you were refilling your aunt’s wine glass in the kitchen. The others were still in the living room, chatting over appetizers.
“Rafe,” you hissed as his hand closed around your wrist, tugging you into the small pantry just off the kitchen.
“Shh,” he whispered, his lips already brushing yours.
The kiss was quick, soft, and utterly intoxicating. His hands rested on your hips, his thumbs rubbing slow circles that made your knees weak.
“Your mom’s a great cook, but you’re the only snack I care about tonight,” he murmured against your lips, his tone low and suggestive.
You shoved him lightly, a mix of exasperation and giddy laughter bubbling in your chest. “If someone catches us—”
“They won’t.” He kissed you again, longer this time, his lips moving with a confidence that made you forget the world outside the pantry.
The second time was when you were setting the table. He waited until everyone’s backs were turned, then leaned in to whisper something very inappropriate in your ear, making you nearly drop the fork you were holding.
“Rafe!” you scolded, trying to stifle your laughter.
He just grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “What? I’m just thankful for you, babe.”
By the time everyone gathered around the dining table, you were already on edge—not from the family chaos but from the man sitting beside you. Rafe looked innocent enough, nodding politely as your dad asked him about his job and laughing at your cousin’s awkward jokes. But under the table, his hand had found your thigh.
At first, it was a simple, comforting touch. His palm rested there casually, his thumb rubbing soft, lazy circles just above your knee. You shot him a warning glance, but he didn’t move his hand. If anything, his grip tightened slightly, a silent challenge in the way his lips quirked into a smirk.
The conversation at the table flowed, but your focus was entirely on him. Every time he squeezed your thigh or shifted his fingers, your pulse quickened.
When his hand slid higher, you nearly knocked over your water glass.
“You okay, sweetie?” your mom asked, looking at you with concern.
You forced a smile, your face burning. “Yep! Just clumsy.”
Rafe’s fingers stilled, but you knew it was only temporary.
As the meal continued, his touch became bolder. His fingers ghosted over the hem of your skirt, then dipped just beneath it. The light pressure against your skin sent a shiver up your spine, and you clenched your fists on your lap to keep from reacting.
“Pass the rolls, Rafe,” your uncle said, breaking the tension.
Rafe’s hand disappeared as he leaned forward, grabbing the basket and handing it over with a polite smile. He was the picture of innocence, completely unbothered by the storm he was stirring inside you.
The final straw came when Rafe dropped his fork.
“Shit,” he muttered, letting the utensil clatter to the floor. “I got it.”
You froze, your pulse skyrocketing as he ducked under the table. His movements were casual enough to keep suspicion at bay, but the moment his hand wrapped around your ankle, you knew you were in trouble.
“Rafe,” you hissed through clenched teeth, trying to sound firm, but it came out more like a plea.
“Relax,” he murmured, his voice muffled under the table. “Just getting closer.”
The answer came when his lips pressed softly against the inside of your ankle. A rush of heat shot through you as he trailed kisses up your calf, his hands gently parting your knees.
Your grip tightened on the edge of the table as he moved higher, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just above your knee. You tried to keep your breathing steady, but the warmth of his mouth paired with the occasional graze of his fingers was driving you insane.
“Rafe,” you whispered again, more desperate this time.
“Shh,” he murmured, the vibration of his voice against your skin making you bite your lip to keep from reacting. “Mhm… just let me.”
His lips hovered just beneath the hem of your skirt, teasing in a way that made you squirm. His fingers slid further up, ghosting over your panties, and your stomach tightened as he paused, pressing his thumb against the damp fabric.
“So wet,” he muttered under his breath, almost too quietly for you to catch, but the deep tone sent a shiver down your spine.
You opened your mouth to scold him, but before you could, you felt it—a quick, deliberate kiss over the center of your panties.
Your entire body froze, a gasp threatening to escape as he lingered for a split second longer, his breath warm against the fabric.
“Got it!” Rafe’s voice rang out suddenly, cheerful and innocent as he reappeared with the fork in hand.
He slid back into his seat with a smug grin, completely unbothered by the chaos he’d caused.
You shot him a glare, your cheeks blazing with a mix of embarrassment and frustration.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “You taste better than dessert, babe,” he whispered, his voice low and raspy, so only you could hear.
Your stomach flipped, and your thighs pressed together under the table. You refused to give him the satisfaction of a response, but judging by the satisfied look on his face, he already knew what kind of effect he had on you.
By the time dinner ended, you were ready to throttle him—and maybe fuck him senseless. As the family moved into the living room for coffee and dessert, Rafe caught your hand, pulling you into the hallway.
“You’re impossible,” you hissed, your voice low.
“And you love it,” he countered, backing you against the wall. His hands found your waist, and his lips were on yours before you could protest. The kiss was slow, deep, and absolutely intoxicating.
When he pulled back, his blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “Happy Thanksgiving, baby.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “Happy Thanksgiving, Rafe.”
taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy y @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog
#rafe x reader#rafe x you#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks#rafe fic#rafe imagine#rafe cameron#rafe#rafe obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron blurb#rafe smut#rafe fanfiction#rafe one shot#john b obx#obx#obx season 4#obx4#obx cast#outer banks season 4#obx 4#outerbanks
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Oils and Incense [Masseur AU]
FEATURING : AITO SOUSUKE (OC) X male reader
Following your friend's suggestion, you went to a health & beauty spa, specifically for a massage and you're surprised to find a fellow student working there as a part-timer. What's that smell and why do you feel so hot? This was the wrong room? Your body won't be the only thing getting oiled up!
dubcon af, rough sex, aphrodisiac on both ends, shady reader(?), sousuke munching, profile
Find out more under the cut!
"All the rooms are full?"
The clerk standing at the register nodded with a polite smile on her face. (m/n) frowned, feeling the ache on his shoulder weighing on his figure.
It had been a harsh week for the (h/c), catching up on his assignments, managing his club activities and after sleeping on his desk for a week straight, his muscles were tense and in pain.
His friend, Daisuke, had suggested this place, a high-end beauty spa and of course it was expensive that motherfucker was loaded. But you decided to treat yourself, as a reward for getting through the semester and you drove over to the place after your classes.
Unfortunately for him, all the rooms are filled and busy.
"Well, we do have a private room available. Although it is usually booked in advance for regulars, I can make an exception for you." She winked at him, feeling sorry seeing the (h/c)'s tired expression. "I'll take it."
"And what kind of package would you like?"
(m/n) didn't bother reading the whole brochure, only skimming through the numbers. "Two hours, please."
The lady escorted her to the room, opening the door inside and (m/n) awed at the interior, fluffy flooring, multiple candles on mahogany cupboards with decorations to make the room more presentable with gold and green highlights with a warm lighting to compliment the whole design.
A massage table stood in the middle, layered with a white covered mattress and a hole for the face in the head area. "The rooms are designed for your privacy and comfort, thick walls and we provide a change of clothing afterwards. Your assigned masseur will be here soon." He thanked the lady and placed his bag on one of the lush seats.
(m/n) stood in the room idly, peering at the ceramic dishes and balls before hearing a conversation outside.
"Make sure you take the right incense and oils, okay. He's not one of the usual clientage." The woman from before seem to be speaking to someone. The masseur perhaps.
"Yeah yeah, I know." The voice replied with a drag, implying annoyance followed by a smack.
The door opened and (m/n) turned to see a familliar person, holding a basket of bottles and taper candles. Said person, with his long red hair in a claw clip with strands sticking to his forehead, froze seeing the (h/c). He had adorned the usual white piece, what masseurs would usually wear.
"You..." He seemed to be taken aback, although his face doesn't show much, (m/n) could definitely tell he knew him and vice versa as well. "...We go to the same university, right? Keio Shiki?' (m/n) broke the awkward silence with a nervous grin.
The redhead seemed to snap back out of his trance as he coughed into his fist and moved to one of the cupboards, setting up the session, placing the taper candles in its holders. "Yeah, we do." He replied dismissively.
"We shared a class once, too. Aito? Was that your name-?" "It's Sousuke. Just Sousuke." (m/n) tensed, nodding quickly as he rubbed his nape.
(m/n) had seen Sousuke around campus before, always alone and keeping to himself with his muted red hair that had always caught his attention. When they shared a class together, the (h/c) had attempted to converse with the redhead but was ignored or only received half-assed answers.
He only knew snippets about the redhead from his peers, who told him to stay away from the man, saying that he brought trouble everywhere he goes. However, (m/n) thought of otherwise.
"So you work here? I thought your dad runs a dōjō." It's not everyday you get to talk to the brooding guy in your prestige university, especially when he's supposed to service you. (e/c) eyes gazed at him with a smirk, teasing the redhead whose hazel ones squinted at him.
"...It's temporary. Until that old man gets off my back." He mumbled, lighting one of the candles with a long nozzle lighter, clicking it a few times. The (h/c)'s eyes still wandered, lingering on his muscular back the white uniform couldn't hide. "Do you remember me? You looked shocked when you first walked in here-"
(m/n)'s words were cut off as Sousuke promptly pressed a white fluffy cloth to his chest. "I do. (l/n)." The redhead emphasized, pushing the article on his chest with pressure. There's a hint of annoyance but (m/n) can see the tip of his ears turning red.
"You can call me (m/n)." His lips stretched a smile, cheekily looking up at the redhead through his lashes.
Sousuke stared for a second before turning away. "Change."
The (h/c) held the cloth Sousuke had given to him, it was literally just a white fabric meant to tie around his waist. "Just this-?" "Yes." Sousuke huffed as he turned back to the (h/c), his fingers snapping a pair of black latex gloves on his hands. "In other words, strip."
"Will do." (m/n) whistled, pulling his clothes off.
The redhead rolled his eyes, rummaging through the cupboards as the (h/c) had his fun teasing the former.
Sousuke did not expect the (h/c) as his customer for the evening. His father had sent him here for work since he had broken three sandbags at the dōjō, apparently his old man's friend owned the place and needed a pair of strong hands to cover a few shifts. Unluckily, Sousuke had been taking a degree in physical education so he was more or less qualified to work here.
However, the clerk suddenly called him on his break, saying that there was a fill-in in one of the private rooms, he was never allowed to step in there by the way, and the woman told him that there was someone looked like around his age while lecturing him about grabbing the right bottles or whatnot.
Sousuke had mindlessly grabbed the basket for the private rooms, there can't be much difference there can it? Probably just the brand itself or whatever.
Fuck, why is he here? Sousuke grumbled silently. He had known the (h/c), (m/n) (l/n) who had caught his eye ever since he walked on campus. His stupid cute smile, really nice build and those fucking thighs-
He snapped himself out of his thoughts hearing shuffles of clothing behind him as he lit the incense and waving the smoke around, letting it dissipate. Something smelled weird. He's dealt with incense before but this one smells more honey?
"I'm done."
The redhead had to stop himself from looking too much as he ushered the (h/c) to lay stomach down on the massage table.
(m/n) pouted, seeing the redhead was quick to place him down as he straddled the massage table, putting his head in its place and his face facing the floor through the hole.
Sousuke helped him place his legs on the rest of the table, his large gloved hands pulling his calves up before setting it down, avoiding looking at the (s/c) presented before him.
The (h/c) felt like he was purring in bliss. "It smells...sweet?" "It's the candle. Nothing much." Sousuke reassured (m/n) and himself, he had never used this specific candle before.
Taking a bowl of warm water, he placed three different sizes of ceramic balls or spheres, letting it sit in the liquid while the (h/c) attempted to start a conversation with him. "How've you've been? Anything interesting coming up?" "None of your concern." (m/n) scrunched his nose at the immediate rejection.
Was the room supposed to be this hot?
He felt warmer than usual, the blood rushing to the lower part of his body. (m/n) continued staring at the carpeted floor beneath him, talking to the redhead. "My team is having a practice match next week. With a university in the next town over."
Tilting the glass bottle, Sousuke dripped the oil in his gloved hands before rubbing them together, warming it up. "So?" "Will you come watch?" He huffed. "For what?"
"For me." There's a hint of flirt and Sousuke had to take a breather before nearing the laying (h/c), avoiding looking at his (s/c) legs. "I'll start now." "What-?"
(m/n) bit his tongue to prevent a moan from escaping his lips when warm gloved hands pressed on in between his shoulders. Fingers moving around, testing the waters as Sousuke gently spread the oil on his back like slicing butter on a piece of bread.
When the redhead felt the skin beneath him less tense, he slowly pressed his fingers deeper, kneading the muscle beneath him, rubbing his thumb in the notches and crooks of his shoulder blades.
Then he moved upwards, trailing his hand and poured more oil directly on (m/n)'s shoulders, letting it stain the cushioned table and he dipped his fingers in the skin between his neck and his shoulder, inching closer to his chest as he massaged his clavicle.
Sousuke was wondering why was the chatterbox underneath him was quiet. Usually customers would let out a satisfied groan every now and then. Maybe it was better for the redhead himself, not having to answer to the (h/c)'s incessant questions.
Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, sliding down the tip of his nose. (m/n) was holding in his breath, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when Sousuke's fingers massaged his nape, pressing his knuckles on the base of his neck, letting the pressure subside when he reached his hairline.
He had been holding in gasps and groans from his throat, feeling so pleasured with the service he's receiving. He felt more fired up than usual. (m/n) almost released a whine when Sousuke pulled his hands away, walking over to the front of him, where the bowl of water was and (m/n) stared at his legs, licking his lips.
"...Everything okay down there?"
Yeah I want you down here- "All's good." (m/n) felt his cheeks flushed, trying to focus back but his mind was foggy, all fuzzy and warm, he couldn't keep his head straight only thinking about those nice thick gloved fingers touching his skin.
Sousuke carefully picked up the smallest ball, placing it in the middle of (m/n)'s back, the latter letting out a noise of confusion. "It's a new thing they brought in. Constant pressure isn't good but the warmth helps and we've been receiving positive feedback..." The redhead muttered, stabilizing the sphere.
"Is it okay for you?"
(m/n) nodded drowsily. "Yeah, yeah. Anything's good from you." Sousuke's mouth gaped from the comment before looking away, grabbing the second ball while ignoring the butterflies raging wildly in his stomach.
"Don't move." He mumbled, balancing the second ball on his upper shoulders, near his nape. He rolled it around, using it as a tool before letting it rest on (m/n)'s body. Sousuke was unaware of the drooling (h/c) who was resisting the urge to utter the most sinful things human beings have ever heard.
The redhead paused, his steps stopping as he gazed at the taper candle, his eyes brimming suspicion before (m/n)'s voice brought him back to reality.
"Hurry up." He whined. Sousuke gritted his teeth, his cheeks warming at the cute noise the other had mewled out. "Be patient." (m/n) grinned. "Don't think you're supposed to talk back to your customers."
He heard the redhead sighed, his legs coming into his line of sight and Sousuke's face suddenly appeared close to his. "And I don't think you should be acting like a brat but here we are. Be quiet...and let me do my job." Hazel eyes stared up at him, his position crouching on the floor near the massage table.
(m/n) was silent, taken aback by the sudden proximity of his handsome face. He definitely got hard. "... Yes, sir." Sousuke groaned in annoyance, immediately standing back up, secretly adjusting his pants.
Immediately, he retrieved the third sphere, letting them all line up on (m/n)'s lower back, the latter letting out a guttural groan at the pressure. Hazel eyes leered at the (s/c) legs on display, sighing lowly as he poured another batch of oil on his gloved hands.
Steadily, he placed his hands on the (h/c)'s thighs, near the cloth and he dragged his palms down, pulling the muscle and knots all the way down to the ankle. Heat was looming all around his crotch as he massaged (m/n)'s foot, rubbing his fingers in between the appendages.
"You're like...mmn- really good at this."
Sousuke heard the drowsy comment from the mouth at the other end. "I work here. It's my job." "Wasn't it temporary?" "As I've told." "Wish it wasn't. I'd come for you everyday."
(m/n) was slurring his words, his cheeks flushed, his dick hard and sweat was dripping from his face to his nose. Fingers massaging him all over, caressing his thigh, pushing his skin and god he wished those fingers were in him.
Just fuck me- The (h/c) grinned to himself, not noticing the reddened masseur who pulled away, grabbing the spheres as well, eager to end the session already.
"Sit up. We'll work on your front next." "...My front?" "Yes. Is there a problem?" Sousuke went to grab a pillow to fill the hole in the head area so (m/n) could lie down on it but when he turned around, the (h/c) was on his side, his face looked embarrassed and he looked away when Sousuke's eyes travelled down to (m/n)'s crotch.
"...It's normal." The (h/c) frowned, mad that Sousuke isn't getting the hint. What the hell? Is it normal for customers to get hard after you massage them or what? (e/c) eyes glared at Sousuke, who was panicking in his head.
"And if I say it's intentional?" "I won't believe you."
He couldn't deny his slight attraction to the (h/c) and what the fuck why does he feel so hot right now? Sousuke staggered when the loop of his pants was tugged.
"Is it normal for you to get hard too?" (m/n) whispered into his ear, huffing his warm breath into the shell of Sousuke's ears that flushed at the contact.
The redhead looked down and he was indeed hard. Had he not noticed the whole time? Sousuke pulled away, facing the cheeky (h/c) who was kneeling on the table, the cloth around his waist barely hiding his erection and an amused expression on his face.
"Stop that." "You don't hate me." "I can." "I don't think you will."
What? Sousuke pressed his lips into a thin line, his head dizzy. (m/n) was so lax around him, closing the gap he had with others, toying with his boundaries like he was edging the redhead, wanting to draw a reaction out of him.
It's the same when they had first met too, when they shared a class. To (m/n), it was normal but to Sousuke, it was thrilling and confusing.
He was melting under the (h/c)'s gaze, his lips quivering and he felt his eyes water. "Are you flirting with me?" (m/n) purred. "Maybe." He winked and held out his hand.
The redhead swatted it away. He can feel his sweat building up on the collar of his uniform. (m/n) looked like a meal in front of him but he couldn't, his heart conflicted.
"Don't...play about these things. Don't toy with me." Sousuke stated, him placing down the pillow, covering the hole in the massage table, (e/c) eyes following him. "....I'm not."
Sousuke clenched his jaw, his neck tense as he felt fingers inching on his nape, tugging his claw clip. He yelped, his hair now loose, red strands laying on his back as the redhead glared at the (h/c).
(m/n) clipped the hair accessory onto his own tresses. "You should kick me out. I'm harassing you and all, aren't I?" The redhead stared at the now sitting (h/c) who swung his feet back and forth. He glanced at his hair clip on the (h/c)'s head.
"I ought to." "...You're hot, Sousuke." A cough escaped his lips, exasperated at the sudden confession. The redhead scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. (m/n) gleamed at him, glancing at the taper candles behind him.
"If you wanted to have sex with me, all you had to do was ask." "What?"
"You think I don't see that?" (m/n) jutted his chin to the candle holder behind Sousuke, the one he had lit up earlier. "Lucky Clover. Common choice but it does its job."
Sousuke snatched the candle out of the holder, blowing out the flame, his eyes scanning the brand name edged on the side of the candle. He had grabbed the wrong basket. "I didn-"
"Haa...now I'm all hot and bothered. It's not fair you're not as affected as I am." "I took the wrong candle. I didn't mean to-" "Whatever was your intention, it doesn't matter." (m/n) rested his chin on his palm, his body was coated with sweat, his back smooth with the oils Sousuke had rubbed in earlier.
"I have at least an hour and a half left. Now come here and do your job, masseur."
Something snapped inside the redhead at that moment, something raw and viscous. His feet slowly moved to the (h/c), settling behind him and grabbing a bottle of oil.
Sousuke should have never denied the attraction he had for the (h/c). His words that jumbled his thoughts, his eyes that made his legs quiver, his tongue that flicked against his teeth that made the redhead desire to grab his neck so he can-
(m/n) leaned his back against Sousuke's chest with a satisfied sigh, smudging the redhead's white uniform. Biting his lower lip, he grinned while staring at across the room. Sousuke was something (m/n) had wanted to solve, it wasn't a priority, but with the massages and the oils, it was like a candlelit dinner for him.
The claw clip was pulled from his hair, Sousuke swiping (m/n)'s hair back and clipped it in properly, (m/n) rubbed his cheek on the redhead's hand, the latter not responding and the (h/c) heard him picking up a glass bottle.
Slippery liquid trickled down his chest, Sousuke tilting the whole bottle on (m/n)'s torso letting it trickle down onto the (h/c)'s crotch. He placed the bottle aside, cracking his fingers. The redhead placed his arms underneath (m/n)'s own, looming his hands over his body before placing it flat against the (h/c)'s chest.
(m/n) gasped when Sousuke cupped his pecs, rubbing his nipples in between his fingers. "Mmnn!" He mewled as the redhead continued his work, massaging his man tit, rubbing his hands up and down as (m/n) gripped Sousuke's arms.
He squirmed when Sousuke's movements became rougher, squeezing his chest and essentially groping him. The redhead's right hand trailed down and rubbed the oil all over his stomach, kneading it into his side.
(m/n) was wrong when he had stated that the redhead was not affected as he is. The redhead had only not noticed. His will is strong, not something that is easily swayed by a mere candle.
Sousuke had bear flirts, jabs, and allure from the (h/c). He's a man. He has sensual passion. Although the redhead simply locked his aptitude to bite back deep inside himself. However, (m/n) was brave. Almost like he was aware Sousuke would let him trample all over him.
Hovering his tongue over the (h/c)'s shoulder, he licked a stripe experimentally. (m/n) flinched, his head turning to the side, looking with his glossy (e/c) eyes. He was panting disheveledly, Sousuke's hand still playing with his chest, gripping the fat and pinching his nipple.
The redhead leaned in closer, his face close with (m/n)'s and their breaths mixed. (m/n) was staring at the masseur's mouth, gazing over his lips and the redhead was looking for any sign of desire in his eyes until (e/c) met hazel.
There was only pure unholy lust. Sousuke pushed his mouth towards (m/n)'s awaiting lips. The latter moaning as they mushed their tongues together, exchanging drool and (m/n) was so excited as he sucked on the redhead's muscly organ.
"Aanh haa ah ah!"
Sousuke's right hand went lower, cupping (m/n)'s erection as he squeezed it lightly. The (h/c) bit his lower lip in response, the redhead gasping as (m/n) stuck his tongue inside Sousuke's mouth.
Tearing the fabric at (m/n)'s waist off, Sousuke grabbed (m/n)'s cock, pumping it up and down, earning whines from the (h/c). It was so slippery, so easy to move with the oil coating (m/n)'s skin and Sousuke gave no mercy to the (h/c) whose hips started to stutter in his hold.
(m/n) bucked his hips, loving the attention his cock was receiving as he pulled away from the makeout session. "I-I'm close- nggh ahh ang ahh!"
Ropes of cum spurted from his tip as Sousuke gripped his base, dragging out (m/n)'s orgasm. His hazel eyes had a fire in them, one (m/n) had ever since Sousuke laid his hands on him.
Drool seeped from his lips, (m/n) was in a daze as Sousuke laid his body on the massage table, letting him lie stomach down. He shivered when he felt the redhead pour more oil on his bottom, the liquid dripping on his ass, seeping and touching his twitching hole.
"You wanted this." Sousuke grunted, pulling off of his sticky uniform, revealing his sexy sweaty torso. His hand rubbed one of the (h/c)'s asscheeks before bringing it up and slapping it. The (h/c) yelped at the contact and Sousuke spanked him again, rubbing the oil on the cheek before swinging his gloved hand back down.
"Ah! F-Fucking- ah!" (m/n) screamed, feeling his cock twitch every time Sousuke smacked his ass. His hips stuttered he felt the redhead gripped and spread his ass, revealing his perky hole, Sousuke dipping his covered thumb in experimentally and scratched his rim.
Whining endlessly, (m/n) flinched as Sousuke spat on his hole, feeling the cold liquid trickle down. The redhead pulled his hips up, (m/n) hugging the pillow for stability, his nails digging into the fabric and pushing his face into the pillow.
Sousuke laid his tongue flat against (m/n)'s balls, licking up until he reached the wet entrance and he pushed a finger in, hearing a squeal from the (h/c). Digging inside, he shoved another gloved finger in to spread the hole with a scissoring motion. The (h/c) could only emit muffled cries, staining the pillow with his saliva.
The redhead licked his hole, a flinch from (m/n), and he pushed his tongue inside, brushing his fangs against (m/n)'s rim. He kissed, licked and spat on the twitching entrance, taking his time and ignoring the begging (h/c).
"P-Please- mmn ahh! I-I'm sorry- ungg mmn!"
Sousuke didn't want an apology from the (h/c). All he cared about was the ass in his hand he was eating right now. The redhead sucked on (m/n)'s balls while pistoning his fingers in and out of the (h/c)'s puckered hole.
He stopped when a hand grabbed his arm, Sousuke glaring down at the crying (h/c) whose back was facing him. "T-Too much. I'm s-sorry- mmn!" (m/n) cried, his tears and drool wetting the pillow under him.
"...Then what do you want?" Sousuke asked nonchalantly as he released (m/n)'s hips, letting him drop onto the table. (m/n)'s lower half was trembling.
"I w-wanna suck you off..." "Is this your apology?" (m/n) shook his head. "I want your c-cock in my throat." He mumbled.
Sousuke stared at him, (m/n) tried to calm down his nerves but his entire body was so hot, the oil covering almost every inch of his skin. "Get on the floor." He heard the redhead ordered.
Shakily, (m/n) pushed himself off of the table, landing on the floor on his knees with a pitiful whine. He turned to the unimpressed redhead who stood, his back leaning against the massage table, his flowing red hair framing his gorgeous face.
"I don't understand you, (m/n)." Sousuke mumbled, grabbing his jaw when the (h/c) inched closer to his crotch while on his knees, his (s/c) glistening under the warm spotlight.
Caressing the (h/c)'s inner thigh with his shoe, Sousuke gazed at his dripping dick, raising his line of sight to (m/n)'s panting flushed face. "You don't have to..." The (h/c) closed his eyes, enduring the tightening still gloved grip Sousuke had on his face.
"You're so...confusing. Pushing my buttons, testing my limits. I'm a man, (l/n)." (m/n) nodded drunkenly. "Handsome man..." He slurred and Sousuke rolled his eyes at that and extended his hand into (m/n)'s face who pulled off the drenched latex gloves with his teeth.
"I can't believe you're into this shit." The redhead raised his bare hand, slapping (m/n)'s face, not too hard but enough to leave a red mark. "You like this? You like getting slapped?"
Sousuke smacked the (h/c) again, who only cried out wantonly, his body leaning closer to the redhead's. "Does your friend know? That you're a fucking freak." (m/n) shook his head, tears threatening to spill from the corner of his eyes.
"I'm supposed to be special then?" (m/n) couldn't even talk properly, getting slapped for the third time. He only slobbered, his eyes peering up at Sousuke's hazel ones. "I-It hurts..." He whined.
The redhead released his tight hold, carressing (m/n)'s cheek. "Went too far, huh? Least' I know your limit now." He gently stroked the (h/c)'s reddened cheek fondly, as if its a way for him to say sorry. (m/n) purring into his touch.
Extending his hand, (m/n) tugged Sousuke's pants, sticking his tongue out eager to suck his cock. The redhead scoffed, his face expressing amusement. "You're cute, y'know?" The (h/c) pawed at the redhead's zipper, pulling it down and shuffling his pants off.
Sousuke pushed his briefs down, his hardened cock springing out and (m/n)'s eyes brightened, his tongue drooling and he whined even more, leaning closer into the redhead. Sousuke cooed, running his fingers through the (h/c)'s hair and he pulled the hair clip off, placing it on his own head.
(m/n) placed his tongue under Sousuke's tip, sliding it gently as he licked the base, caressing the veins. The redhead groaned, bucking his hips and accidentally gripped the (h/c)'s hair. Moving his head forward, the (h/c) took the long cock in his mouth, slobbering his spit all over the shaft.
It was a wonder how their dynamic switched. When (m/n) had first walked in, he was so adamant at poking at the redhead, now he was the one on his knees, sucking Sousuke's cock so desperately.
His cheeks hollowed as he hummed, (m/n)'s palate being grazed and the tip touching the back of his throat. He choked and coughed, Sousuke wanting to pull back but (m/n) grabbed his hips and shoved his own face into the redhead's crotch, his chin touching his balls.
"Anngg- mmff!" Sousuke held onto the table, his fingers clenching on the cushion as he closed his eyes, hot pleasure focusing on his dick and the (h/c). Cum shot from his tip and he was ready to pull out but (m/n)'s nails dug into his hips as he hissed in pain. Sousuke pulled his other glove off with his fangs.
The (h/c) sucked everything he could muster out of the redhead, letting the semen pool on his tongue as he shakily stood up and grabbed Sousuke's face, pushing his tongue in so the redhead could have a taste of himself.
Sousuke choked and gagged as the (h/c) shoved his tongue into his mouth as they stumbled, the redhead's arms around (m/n)'s waist and the latter around his neck. They planted themselves back onto the massage table, (m/n)'s back lying on the stained cushion and he spread his legs.
"Put it in." He breathed out, staring at hazel eyes who gazed back at (e/c), their sweaty foreheads touching each other. Sousuke took a breather and he adjusted himself, pumping his cock and lining it up against (m/n)'s hole.
"Just a second." The redhead spoke, he leaned forward, (m/n) stupidly clinging onto his body and rubbing his cheek against his face as Sousuke grabbed a decanter, biting the cork off and spitting it on the floor. The (h/c) rubbed his dick against the redhead's abs, letting his precum smear all over the rockhard muscles.
Sousuke pushed (m/n) to make room, tilting the decanter and pouring oil onto the (h/c)'s thighs, the liquid dripping down onto his ass and the redhead used his fingers to push it into (m/n)'s throbbing hole.
He also spilled the oil onto his own body, letting it drip from his chest and onto his dick, (m/n) now thrusting his hips to get the redhead's attention. "I know, I know." He mumbled, brushing his lips over (m/n)'s forehead.
Carefully, he held the (h/c)'s waist, adjusting both of them and he pushed in, the slippery oil letting him thrust all of his cock in one go. (m/n) let out a satisfied mewl, his thighs shaking as Sousuke pulled his cock out until only the tip nestled inside the twitching anus.
"Aannh ann ah ah ha ahh!" (m/n) wailed as the redhead began to pound himself with wet sloppy noises emitting around the room. Their squelching was so loud, the oil making their skin soft and wet as it smacked together.
Sousuke licked the (h/c)'s ear, his fangs biting the shell as the (h/c) spread his legs even wider, letting his ankles dangle in the air and the redhead slapped his inner thigh. "God you should've came here earlier." Sousuke groaned into (m/n)'s ear who nodded ferverently.
"Fuck fuck fuck." The (h/c) cussed with a moan , every time the redhead's cock kissed his prostate, his shaft dragging against his walls. Sousuke poured more oil on his base, as he pushed (m/n) down on the table, humping and fucking his meaty cock into his drenched ass.
The candle's waft still lingered in the air, although not as intense as earlier but (m/n) wished that it would last longer. His untouched cock was flicked by the redhead's fingers and (m/n) came, cum shooting out of his stimulated penis and it landed on both of their chests.
Sousuke wanted to kiss the (h/c), however he opted to graze his neck and sucked on the skin there instead, leaving hickies and marks. His hips stuttered as he shallowly thrusted into (m/n)'s bottom, his orgasm arriving and reaching its peak and (m/n) locked his ankles around the redhead, forcing him to still and cum inside his ass, filling his hole with his white batter.
(m/n) pulled Sousuke by his hair away from his neck and crashed his lips onto his and their teeths clashed. There were biting and saliva dripping from their chins, the (h/c) pushing his hips, indicating his want for a second round.
Sousuke climbed onto the massage table, asking (m/n) to kneel like him and he positioned himself behind the (h/c). He rammed himself inside (m/n) who arched his back and started to bounce himself on Sousuke's lap in time with his thrusts.
The redhead hands sneakily cupped (m/n)'s chest, groping his pecs and rubbing the skin. (m/n) whimpered when Sousuke scratched his nipple with his nails, pinching and twisting it as he continued slamming himself in and out the (h/c)'s throbbing hole, his previous cum spilling and dripping out of (m/n)'s rim.
(m/n) turned his face to the side, his (e/c) eyes begging Sousuke for a kiss as he stuck his tongue out. The redhead obliged licking (m/n)'s lips and kissing him again, them sloppily making out for the nth time already. The table shook with each thrust, shockingly still able to support the two.
Sousuke came inside the (h/c) again while (m/n) was pushing his ass back desperately for his own orgasm, the redhead gritting his teeth as (m/n) prolonged his climax by using his cock like a joystick.
Both of them lost any sense they had as they succumbed to their arousal, having sex on the table as much as they could. (m/n) was having the time of his life getting slapped, used like a fleshlight, begging Sousuke to fold him into many position and the redhead indulged in his cries, pushing him up against the cupboard, forcing him to ride his cock and they only stopped when the clerk had came back, knocking on the door while Sousuke was pushing (m/n) into a mating press.
"Is everything alright in there? Aito, the session is supposed to be over."
The redhead grunted out a half-assed response as he covered (m/n)'s mouth and quickly fucked himself inside the (h/c) making them both cum. (m/n)'s body was sweaty and slippery, his skin covered in oils and bite marks, his neck filled with hickies and his ass was dripping spit and cum.
Sousuke pulled the (h/c), pushing him and himself into the small shower station they had and quickly washed themselves clean, (m/n) begging the redhead for one last round and he unceremoniously followed through, making the (h/c) cum on his cock under the pouring shower head.
The redhead forced (m/n) to help him clean, changing the cushions, wiping the floor, throwing away the candle tapers so the clerk won't lecture him for using the wrong ones. Sousuke checked everything, making sure he didn't leave any evidence behind as he changed the drowsy (h/c) into a simple clothing the spa provided for customers.
He packed (m/n)'s clothes and his dirty uniform into a paper bag, clocking himself out of his shift as he left the spa hurriedly with the (h/c) hugging him fondly. Sousuke made sure to drive (m/n) back to his dorm with the latter's car, not trusting him to arrive safely as the (h/c) immediately passed out in the passenger's seat.
-
"(m/n), someone's looking for you." His classmate called him, the (h/c) lifting his head from the table he was sitting in. The class had just ended and (m/n) wanted to stay behind to finish his notes before his classmate yelled for him.
It had been three days since the whole massage thing and he couldn't find the redhead, not even at the spa. Hilarious to think that (m/n) actually went back searching for him but the clerk informed him that Sousuke asked for a few days off, him claiming that he had exams to study for and the (h/c) frowned, knowing that the redhead was avoiding him.
Understandably he was taken aback when he was met with the sight of the abashed redhead, who was standing with his hair still clipped in that purple accessory, his shoulder bag on his side.
"I thought we should go on a date. After that whole y'know." Sousuke handed him a singular sunflower, its stem jagged and (m/n) could tell that he didn't bought this at the florist.
(m/n) caressed the petals as he laughed. "Now which poor gardener did you stole from?" The redhead jabbed his finger behind him, the window showing the university's prestige courtyard with many beautiful flowers blooming, people won't notice one going missing.
"How sweet." The (h/c) smiled and Sousuke looked away, his ears reddened. "Let me grab my bag first. Where are we going?" "Eat. You need some meat if you want to win that practice match."
(m/n)'s heart fluttered, Sousuke remembered the practice match he had mentioned and he took it as a sign of him attending it for him as he hurriedly retrieve his books, shoving it in his bag as he skipped to the redhead.
"Told you I wasn't toying with you." The (h/c) teased Sousuke as he hugged his bicep. The redhead only rolled his eyes, letting (m/n) hang off of his arm as they walked through the hallway, earning weird looks from the rest of the students.
"The sunflower reminds me of you." Sousuke quirked an eyebrow, he had only chose said flower because it was the biggest one in the flower patch. "A flower?" "The sun." The redhead was silent, not understanding what he meant but shrugged. He'll let his potential boyfriend run his mind in weird places.
"Say...do you have it?" "Have what?" (e/c) gleamed up at the redhead. A knowing grin on (m/n)'s face as Sousuke slightly opened his shoulder bag, letting (m/n) peek inside.
The same candle taper, a new one, Sousuke had grabbed some from the spa. He'll cover a shift or two later and (m/n) kissed his cheek, the latter flinched and blushed heavily.
"Can't wait." The (h/c) was now pushing the redhead, eager to start and finish their lunch date so he could make room for their raunchy dinner that would last from the early evening to the dead of night.
[END SCENE]
[unedited]
Afterthoughts :
profile
I had debated the plot for this au but i didnt want it to be some random drugged bunny fuck so theres the convo, the trifling comm, and the buildup there. Everything is better w feelings involved and its good if its one that makes u think, its what gives character
I wished this fic was what debuted sousuke on my page argh. this might be my proudest work yet. When i meant rough I meant ROUGH
This will probably be my last one before i disappear for a couple of weeks. I'll reply to stuff but to post nahhh new sem starts soon so imma be super bz.
Haha i got happy cuz ppl commented on my last post so i shat this one out as quickly as i could.
comment lots and ill post lots mkay🍖
more of aito sousuke! 𖤓
#bottom male reader#sub male reader#x bottom male reader#x male reader#male reader#male reader smut#oukabarsburg#aito sousuke#oc x male reader#oc#oc x reader smut#oc smut#oc x reader#Spotify#rough smut#oc x male reader smut#uke male reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
movie date
fem!reader x choi yeonjun x huening kai
synopsis: you're too scared to go to bed after you watch a scary movie with your boyfriends.
warnings: 🔞!!! established relationship, throuple/poly, no mxm, threesome, praise, slight nipple play, fingering, oral (m!rec), multiple orgasms (f!rec), overstim (m&f!rec), breeding kink, size kink if you squint, unprotected sex, one bite, creampie, use of the names baby, pretty girl, she/her, aftercare, prob forgot some sorry
wc: 3.7k kinda got carried away oops
an: hope i did this anon justice <33 I currently have a fever of 101 so this was quite literally a fever dream lmao someone take the laptop away from me. not proofread sorry! feedback appreciated :)) [m.list] check out all my other yeonkai fics! busy signal, fit check, wake up call
you really did think you could make it through the movie without jumping once. It was only ten minutes in and your fingers were practically glued to your eyes, only half the screen visible.
When kai had asked you if you would be scared later you told him no so confidently. yeonjuns chin on your shoulder, one hand wrapped around your waist, and the other reaching out past you for the movie you held. “I don’t know…” huening hummed picking up another dvd from the family-friendly section. “maybe we need to buy this one so you fall asleep to something comforting,”
“I promise I won’t be scared,” you say, taking the horror movie from Yeonjun. “it doesn’t even look that bad, right jjunie?”
“I’ll be awake either way you know I can’t take the jump scares,” he gives you a light kiss on your jaw before pulling away to reach out for the movie Kai held. “we should take it just in case,”
“We won’t need it,” you say, placing the horror movie into the basket Kai held. “I’m sure I’ll sleep like a rock even before the movie is over,”
but even with Kai’s little grin turned on for you he knew to be skeptical when you and yeonjun thought it a good idea to put on anything scary. He never said no to the movies because by the end of the night, you would be curled up next to him holding onto his shirt with a death grip. You would bury your face into his arm, wedging yourself behind his shoulder on the couch, asking when the scene was over so you could look.
It was cute to watch you, Kai spent most of the time giggling at your reactions, kissing away your fear. Yeonjun liked to jump the gun on being scared flinching before the scary part happened making you extra jumpy and sensitive to the feel of anything brushing against you. It would make you tighten your hold on Kai lightly kicking Yeonjun to tell him to stop, “you make it so much scarier when you do that! I never know when to close my eyes,”
“I can’t help it! The door creaking freaked me out,” both of you let out a scream when the killer jumped up on the screen.
Kai knew this was exactly how the night would go and for a few days, you would be clinging to him in bed and following him around the apartment when it started to get dark.
“So we don’t need a fun movie?”
“The scary movie is fun enough,” you shrug as Kai leans down to plant a kiss on your nose.
“Okay I warned you,” Kai says as you both move to catch up with Yeonjun.
The three of you are trying to decide what popcorn to pick. You and Yeonjun always need Kai to come in to make the final decision on anything. Kai never knew who to say yes to, wanting to please his hyung and his girlfriend he always suggested to pick both. “butter or kettle? pick kai,”
“umm,” you and Yeonjun giving pointed looks to pick the ‘right’ answer.
“Huening,” yeonjun warns, holding out his option in front of him.
You drop your shoulder giving a fake pout, “Yeah I guess yeonjuns is better,” and the act is already working, the basket in Kai’s hand already leaning towards you.
Yeonjun hooks his arm around your shoulders pulling you into him, “don’t fall for it, stay strong kai,”
“No really I’ll put mine back,” you say with no intention to follow through, your puppy dog eyes in full use on Kai. “it’s okay hyuka you don’t have to pick,”
“Let's get both, sweet and salty,” he caves, your smile his favorite treat.
“she’s a little devil you know that,” Yeonjun says pressing a kiss to your temple, “and you always give in,”
Kai shrugs, “She is so cute, how do you not give her everything she wants?”
“easy, just think about how hot she is begging,” you roll your eyes pulling yourself out of his hold.
“I’ll remember that one when you want anything,”
“Baby,” he whines as the three of you make your way to check out.
When in public Yeonjun was always more touchy, if you weren’t by his side he was looking for you to lean on or kiss. It was never more than a few light brushes of his lips. Most of the time people assumed the two of you to be the couple with Kai being a third wheel. Only Kai wasn’t into pda besides holding your hand and the rare kiss. And when riding in the car Yeonjun always drives with you in the passenger seat. Kai napping in the back or laughing at the two of you arguing in the front over directions. Kai holding the door open for you when getting out.
It was your favorite type of night with the three of you in the kitchen. It was a little chaotic with the space being so packed and Yeonjun is usually moved to cleaning duty or playlist handling because of how clumsy he is. huening always being given the ‘kiss the cook’ apron you bought on a whim, the fit making his shoulders look so broad.
The three of you wedged on the couch with your popcorn after dinner. The one bowl mixed with the two flavors sitting in your lap both the boys reaching over whenever they wanted some. Only now the bowl has been totally forgotten in front of you and you’re hiding your face from the screen.
“Are you scared?” Kai asks, his laugh caught on the end of the question.
“no,” you say, shaking your head but you’re not even trying to move your hand from your face.
“I am,” Yeonjun mumbles, face pressed into your shoulder. the loud slash of a knife comes from the screen and while Kai is as still as stone Yeonjun and you are jumping out of your skin. “no no no no!” Yeonjun says to the screen before he jerks back and hides against your shoulder again.
“Tell me when I can look huening. I don't know if I can take anymore,” you say, wrapping your arm around his to hold against your chest.
“it only just started,” he laughs his hand between your thighs, rubbing soothing circles on your skin.
“it’s morning in the movie i think you can look now,” yeonjun says picking up the popcorn bucket from the coffee table. But for the rest of the movie you spend only seeing parts of the screen. When it’s over and the lights are on you’re fully regretting having put the comfort movie back on the shelf.
“who’s idea was it to watch something so scary?” you ask knowing damn well it was your idea.
“Is someone regretting their decision?” yeonjun asks, picking up bits of popcorn from the couch, at one point the bowl tipped sideways after a particularly scary bit.
“You were complicit in that decision, it's not only my fault, right hyuka?” you’re still holding Kai in place not wanting to get up from a safe spot.
“Nothing is ever your fault,” Kai smiles, peppering kisses on your cheek.
“don’t lie to her huening, as I recall it was with her suggestion that we went out on Sunday and none of us made it to our Monday classes on time,”
“yeah that was kinda a bad idea,” Kai agrees, “my perfect attendance record is all messed up now,”
“you still showed up and we had a good night, win-win,”
“come on let's get to bed or we might ruin huenings perfect attendance more than it already is,”
but when you look down the dark hallway it is the last thing you want to trek down after what you just watched. “I mean one more movie won't hurt,”
“So we should have listened to me when I said to get the extra happy movie,” Kai moves his arm from your hold only to throw it behind you on the couch. Yeonjun lays back down next to you leaning against the armrest, the grey sweatpants he wears low on his hips.
“just one more I don't think I'll be able to fall asleep,”
“You know I do know something I could watch right about now,” Yeonjun tucks his arms behind his head. You’re hyper aware of your surroundings, still coiled from the movie so when Kai leans down to kiss your neck you feel it spread throughout your spine.
“Now that’s a good idea,” Kai mumbles against your skin, “and I’m sure you will be worn out enough after to fall asleep without any problem,”
“Are you using my fear as a way to get off?”
“well…” Kai starts but Yeonjun nods stating, “Kinda,”
“I think it just might work,” you say, moving around so that you straddle Kai, your arms slinking around his shoulders. He cups your waist in both hands with an easy grin on his lips.
Kissing Kai was always your favorite thing to do, he always started off so gently. Testing the waters as he gave you soft pecks, building up momentum as he found his footing before he was all over you. Kissing down your jaw, hands sliding up under the back of your shirt trying to pull you closer to him. and he was always hard after a few kisses, grinding on him making him vocal. Eyes closed and his brows creased, whining about you breaking away to pull your shirt off.
“Do you remember your first kiss?” Yeonjun asks getting comfortable, you turn to look at him, Kai sucking hickeys down your neck while you grind on him.
Every once in a while Yeonjun loved to bring up how the three of you got together. When everything was new and you three had no idea what you were doing. How he had been the one to suggest you get together after years of friendship, how one simple kiss ended with the three of you living together in the best relationship.
“not so easy to forget,” Kai kisses down your chest before sucking your nipple into his mouth, your back arching into him.
It hadn't been much different than this night when you asked if either of them had ever kissed someone before. Shyly wondering if you were falling behind, Yeonjun confessed that he had in fact kissed someone shrugging like it was nothing and saying it wasn't too exciting. ‘have you?’
‘no,'' you admitted even if it felt like with anyone else in the room they would make fun of you. ‘neither have I,’ Kai piped up blushing from ear to ear.
‘Maybe you two should just get it over with now. Be each other’s first,’ and you had listened to the suggestion. Kai and you leaning in and giving the softest kiss imaginable. ‘no not like that, like this,” and without much thought, you were making out with Yeonjun before he pulled away and pushed you back to huening, ‘your turn,’ the make out with Kai leading to the three of you finding any excuse to repeat the night.
“Now look at you, our needy girl putting on my favorite show,” you loved having his eyes on you, watching every little reaction you had to kai, eating up every sound, craving the sight of you falling apart. And it wasn't only Yeonjun who looked at you like that, Kai's hands slipped back to your waist guiding your hips to rock back and forth on him, your hands twisted in his hair as he looked at you like he belonged to you, like you set the stars in the sky.
Kai slipped off his shirt and you still had your shorts on and needed to take them off before they drove you insane. But Kai wasn't letting you up anytime soon, he pushed one hand into your waistband slipping right past your underwear to rub circles on your clit, moaning at the feel of you. “You're already so wet,” he whispers, exploring your folds. You rock your hips into his hand, his smile spreading as he slips two fingers into your entrance letting you fuck his hand, clit pressed onto the heel of his palm. His fingers are so long that they brush your g-spot with no problem and every time he does you stutter in your grinding. Arm wrapping around his shoulders pressing his face into your chest, “I'm gonna cum,” you whine feeling your orgasm build.
“Maybe you should stop huening,” Yeonjun shrugs, knowing it's the last thing Kai would do when he had you this close. He just loved the way you responded, that drawn out, “noo jjunie please,” your hips picking their pace, your hold on kai tightening before you were trembling over the edge, cumming on the edge of a cry. huening gave a few slow pumps of his fingers before completely removing them to place in his mouth, moaning at the taste of you.
You were already getting tired and standing up on shaking legs it was evident. But Kai tugged down your shorts and underwear for you before pulling you back to the couch. On your knees leaning over Yeonjun, he adjusted himself to sit up more, the bulge in his sweatpants clearly evident. “hi pretty,” he placed a kiss on your temple as Kai kneeled behind you.
Kai was wasting no time, the head of his cock brushing over your entrance making you shudder. when he pushed in the tip the both of you moaned, his slow entrance making you push back against him to try and get any more that he had to offer but he kept you back with his hand on your hip, “Wait baby I don't want to hurt you,”
one hand holding yourself up and the other holding yeonjuns you squeeze his fingers to try and keep yourself still. “I can take it hyuka,” you whine and Kai gives you small pecks on your back, edging in, “I know you can, you always take me so well,”
you can feel the stretch in taking Kai but it doesn't stop you from trying to push back again, kai’s throaty moan is loud when your ass is pressed flush with his pelvis.
Yeonjun gives a soft chuckle brushing your cheek with his thumb, “So impatient,”
Kai wraps one arm around your waist leaning over you and wraps the other around your chest using his hold to slowly pull back out before sinking back in. He barely pulls out again, “god you're sucking me right back in,” he moans trying to pick up his pace. You can feel his tip kissing your womb, every achingly slow drag of his cock brushing right where you need him. “How did I get so lucky, hum? My perfect girl taking me so good, so warm and wet for me,” you preen at the praise arching your back and feeling him slip deeper if it were even possible with how close the two of you are.
You're a whimpering mess when Yeonjun says, “Why don't you suck me off and get me all prepped and ready before I fuck you, okay?” his free hand pushes down his sweatpants to pull out his straining cock. Your mouth waters at the sight, face already close enough to kiss the tip. The warmth of your mouth makes yeonjuns hips jerk, hand wrapped around the base to keep himself in place. Every thrust from Kai makes your head bob forward sending Yeonjun deeper into your mouth. Your moans around him send chills up his spine as you lick up his pre-cum. An extra hard trust sends Yeonjun to the back of your throat and he has to pull out before he cums, not wanting to waste a single drop when he could pump you full of it.
“hyuka,” you cry knowing you're close but needing some kind of stimulation to push you over again.
“Tell me you want my cum,” Kai can hardly get the words out, “tell me,” he begs, punishing his cock into you.
“I want it, please, please,” and Kai pulls you up to sit you fully on his cock, stilling before you feel him twitching, hand pressed to your pelvis as he fills you with his cum. Your head falls back to rest against his shoulder before you jerk forward at the feel of fingers rubbing at your clit.
You give a shout as Yeonjun works your clit, leaning over to help you. Kais still throbbing inside you as you cum, pussy fluttering and overstimulating him, you would have fallen forward if Kai hadn't been holding you in place on him, his tip pressed onto your gummy spot making you cry out.
“Thank you,” you say trying to catch your breath when Yeonjun moves his hand away from you, but you don't know if you're thanking him for starting or stopping.
Kai slowly lays you down on the now empty couch, your hands cupping your breast so that your sensitive nipples don't rub against the fabric, cheek presses into the seat as you feel the gush of cum leave your heat, your thighs slick with it. If this was supposed to wear you out they had succeeded but Yeonjun hadn't had his turn and he wouldn't stop until he came at least once.
Yeonjun climbs up behind you leaning down to bite the side of your ass before he pulls away rubbing his thumb over the spot, admiring your body laid out before him. So easily compliant to his needs after Kai had his way with you, it was why he never cared if he had you first or not, watching was just as fun as fucking, and watching you twitch with overstimulation was his favorite. So he slipped his hand down between your folds spreading all the fluids through your folds brushing over your clit watching the way you trembled for him. He pushed your knees apart, angling your hips slightly up so that he could have access to you.
He was painfully hard as he slipped his tip along your swollen lips, no time for teasing anymore as he sank in. Yeonjun leaned his weight on you, wrapping his arms under you to grab your wrists, lips pressed to your temple as he gave slow, shallow thrusts. So warm and slick to slide in and out of he was a mess, every moan rumbling against your back and into your ear. “my pretty girl is always doing so good for us, hum? When I cum will you be good and keep it all in?”
You're at a loss for words, nodding along to everything he says, his body keeping your shakes to a minimum as he hits your g-spot, whimpering on a loop. “if you don't ill have to fuck you all over again. How many orgasms until you're so overstimulated I only have to blow on your clit to make you cum?” just the thought has you squeezing him, your gummy walls begging to be coated. “my pretty girl likes that idea huh? oh fuck I'm gonna-“ his fingers intertwining with yours, hips jerking his thrusts slowing until he completely stills inside you, moaning into your hair. The warmth of his cum is enough to make you climax right after him, wanting to pull away from the overstimulation but trapped under Yeonjun and left to feel it all. You're completely shaking under him as he gives you soft kisses on your cheek, making sure not to move so that you can have some time to whine down.
You are finding it hard to keep your eyes open when Kai leans down in front of you two, pushing stray strands of hair from your brow. “I got the bed all ready for you when you’re up for it,” he had already put on his pjs, a few damp cloths in his hands ready for clean up. “I even made sure all the lights are on so you won't get scared,”
“thank you hyuka,” you smile, Yeonjun finally pulling away, a soft whimper leaving your lips when he pulls out. Yeonjun takes one of the cloths from Kai, cleaning you up as gently as possible before you roll over so that he can get everything. You're not sure your legs are ready to walk just yet but Kai hands off the rest of the cloths to Yeonjun to finish cleaning himself and putting his sweats back on before grabbing his discarded shirt off the back of the couch to pull on over your head. Kai had gotten you a clean pair of panties to slide on, helping you before giving your knee a kiss.
Yeonjun leans over to plant a kiss on the top of your head, “Let's go finish up in the bathroom and head off to bed before all three of us are late again tomorrow morning,”
your knees feel a little weak as you stand but not too bad, both boys watching to make sure you're okay. “I'm fine,” you stand on your toes to give each of them a kiss on the cheek but your thighs are trembling, “neither of you fucked me hard enough to do much,” you playfully joke.
Yeonjun rolls his eyes raising his hand, “A challenge or a dis?” you move away from him giggling as you hide behind huening knowing if you got anywhere near Yeonjun he would slap you on the ass.
“Both?”
“oh okay so now you're playing with fire,” Yeonjun lunges forward ready to follow you all around the apartment if need be.
“Kai please protect me,” you say moving him in the way but he just wraps his arms around you holding you in place, you squirm as he kisses down the trail of hickeys he left behind earlier. “oh no you're not getting away with that one,” he passes you to Yeonjun who holds you in his arms giving you a playful scowl.
“I'm going to make you regret saying that,” he dips his nose down to yours before kissing you, you should have expected the slap on the ass as soon as you were distracted but you yelp anyways.
“I love you,” you say, pulling away from him before reaching back out for Kai, “and I love you. but I'd like to see either of you try,” and you take off down the hall to the bedroom, both of them following after you, laughing the whole way there.
#kpop smut#huening kai x reader#txt huening kai#huening kai#txt huening kai smut#hueningkai#yeonjun smut#yeonjun x reader#txt yeonjun#choi yeonjun#yeonjun#txt fanfic#txt smut#txt#beomgyu#soobin#taehyun#yeonkai x reader
576 notes
·
View notes
Note
I like to stir up some drama for the Yandere twst boys 😈 I always would like to think that what if a few of the boys fell for MC but they turned them down because they already have a lover back in their world. Or their old lover is dead and MC would never love again since they’re still grieving. I would like to see the boys reactions, especially the more jealous and dangerous ones like Floyd, Jamil, Malleus or even Ace
oohhh yess the drama~ we gotta love some good dangerous jealous boys. i bet theyll get mad and they might do something... awful.
~Mc with lover at home/dead~
Yan!Floyd x mc
Yan!Jamil x mc
Yan!Malleus x mc
Yan!Ace x mc
Warnings: drowning, kidnapping, threats, game of cat and mouse?, stalking, blood, broken mirror
~~~~~
Floyd
Floyd doesnt like a lot of things... he doesnt like it when things dont go his way.. especially if that thing makes him work his butt off. a thing like... you.
From the day you caught his eye, it was when you stood up to azul to protect baby seal, crabby, and little mackerel. For one, a magicless human demanding something of azul was laughable, hilarious even. Plus how persistence you were, which was also a great charm he liked, when your little group, plus sea urchin, had get that photo azul requested. even when you knew you didnt have a chance to pass 2 mermen eels, you still got the photo and tricked azul and destroying all his contacts?! you were tough and he loved it.
after that, he tried to get to know you better any chance he got!!
theres a basket ball game and he wants you to come? he will annoy crabby and sea snake, with his poor performance, saying "if shrimpy isnt going, whats the point..?" he does it so much that the entire team goes to the ramshackle dorm, begging you to come to the game. floyd played great and won the match.
if there was a group assignment in class? Floyd will throw a fit and threaten anyone that even looks at you to be their partner. to the point, where the teachers just have to comply to his demands.
if you and your group of first years come to the Louge, he'll shove everyone off to lay on your lap. isnt he a cute eel?
After a while of this, floyd finally decided to ask you out (from Azul and Jade's suggestion because they were getting tired of complains about floyd's behavior).
He asked if you could come with him, outside of NRC. He wanted to show you something. He brought you to the beach shore. the sun was setting and it shine beautifully on the surface of the water. you thanked him for the pretty view, it almost made up for everything he's been putting you through recently.
when you turned to Floyd, he got on one knee and asked... he had a ring! it was a pretty pearl ring that he got himself. he had to go through a lot of clams to find the "perfect one for shimpy"
you were, of course, startled. but you explained to him that you had someone at home and you bet they missed you a lot. you tried to laugh the awkwardness away but before you could apologized again. floyd stood up and pulled out a potion vile? he quickly gulped it down and grabbed you, shoving you into the ocean with him!
when you opened your eyes, you were underwater and he was in his mermen form. he pulls you into a hug, a tight one. you thought it was sweet at first until..- you needed air! you tried to struggle against him and tapping him repeatedly, in a way to say "i to go up for air!" but he just wouldnt move.
"no."
"...?!?!"
"you arent going to that home. your new home... is with me, shrimpy~ we'll make a new home here~"
you tried to struggle more but it was pointless, you were losing air and it hurts. your lungs burned and his grip on you, his claws were digging into your flesh! you tried to dig your fingers into his sides but it was pointless.
you let out a finally gasp before falling limp into Floyd's arms.
~
~
without text
~~~~~
Jamil
Jamil doesnt really get attached to people a lot. everyone always wanted the "great an amazing Kalim," leaving him on the side lines. it hurt a lot at first but now he's just came to expect it...
Even in NRC, kalim still gets the spot light and jamil gets kicked to the side lines.
Kalim wanted to throw a party in the middle of the school week and jamil was in the kitchen. he was studying for an exam coming up and he needs to be "close" if anything were to happen. Meanwhile, kalim was in the main lounge partying with everyone... we know hes not gonna pass...
while Jamil was trying to study... you step in. you both stared at each other for a second... then you asked if you could get a cup of water? Jamil sighs and stood up to get you a glass..
"why are you here..? shouldn't you be.. partying too..?"
"im just refreshing on the material for the exam.."
Jamil hands you the cup and walks back to his spot on the kitchen table. you meekly followed him. on the table there were textbooks, notebooks, and different types of pens and pencils. you looked at his noted and you noticed how neat they were! some words were under-lined and bolded, some had highlights to help catch the eye. jamil noticed your stare and looks up at you.
"is there anything else i could help you with..?"
"o-oh! sorry, i just... your notes look really nice.."
you awkwardly sipped your cup. Jamil rolled his eyes and got back to his notes.
"ya.. its for kalim, whenever hes done partying, hell look at my notes right before the exam and fails the exam anyways.."
he dropped his pen on the table and rubbed his face, sighing heavily.
"haha! that's what ace, deuce, and grim do! out of the 4 of us, i write the notes! deuce tries to, ace doesn't bother, and grim.. sleeps. and with our study sesh, its not like it helps much. as an 'other worlder' i have better grades then they do combined! haha"
jamil stares at you as you laughed and he cracks a smile. its been a while since someone's situation was similar to his.
"hey... do you need any help with the up coming exam..?"
he's voice stammered while saying that... why? you looked at him and smiled. you both spend the rest of the night studying together. this was only the beginning.
now whenever you're alone, jamil will come by to give a helping hand. grim ate all your food? here, he accidentally made extras. do you need help with homework? meet him in the court yard, he'll help. the more he helped, the more his feelings for you grew, he only wished the feelings were mutual.
but the dreaded day came.. you had to return home. he chose that night to finally confess his feelings for you, hoping you'll throw away this vision on returning home and just come home with him.
when you told him that you had a past-lover that died and that you'll never love anyone again. he just snapped.
...!
with blood mix with mirror shards in his hand, he used snake whisper on you and brought you... home. good thing he did this after you said good bye to everyone.
~
~
without text
~~~~~
Malleus
to say malleus had an eye for the perfect is an understatement. from the day he met them, to the silly nickname they gave him, he had fallen hard.
he had to ask lilia for advice on how to charm the perfect. if flowers were too much for after knowing them for a week..? is his gifts in the night too much?
he just had to leave the gifts in your room because you were either not home or sleeping and he didn't want to disturb you. you liked so peaceful when you slept...
he wanted so badly to make you his then and there but he wanted the moment to be special for both of you. for him, he'll get someone who loves him and charish him. as much as he does you. For you, getting a loving dragon fae husband and becoming a queen of the briar valley. youre guarantee a great life with him! you wouldnt have to be hungry or buying the cheapies things that sam could offer. you will eat and sleep and care for like you are royalty because you will be royalty and be viewed with the highs respect, like malleus.
lilia had warned him to not rush this process. humans can be delikit creatures and some can get startled easiely. Sadly malleus didnt heed his warning and malleus choose to confess to you!
He choose a beautiful forest openning. he had a picnic set up with your favorites and he planned it so that you and malleus would watch the sunset and be out there to watch the stars. it would have been perfect... if it wasn't for you different views.
"oh! im really sorry, hornton.. um.. im actually taken! theyre back in my world but i bet theyre problay worried sicked about now. hehe.."
malleus was still... very still. in that moment, he didnt see red like he thought he would... everything just got dark for him. he wanted so badly to just disappeared and leave you there to be lost in the forest.. but he loved you too much for that. even when you ripped out his heart. the nerve you have to act like this to The malleus draconia...
he walked you home that night.. and told lilia what happened.
"oh dear... im sorry malleus. i didnt know someone has already stolen their heart."
lilia was flying over malleus's head, patting it. the head pats werent helping. the only head pats that will sooth him would be from his child of man, apologizing for their silly joke and saying its just a silly human tradition for courting...
"but... if perfect were to be persweaed into staying in twisted wonderland~ their world would... be nothing but a dream, right~?"
Malleus later asked you to stop by his dorm. he wanted to talk about that night. which you were happy for, you got worried when he didnt come to your dorm at his usial time..
when you got there, it was early quiet... no one in sight. you knew your way around so it wasnt a problem but every fiber in your body was screaming for you to go.
When you got to malleus room. he was at his desk writing something.
"Child of man... i have put some thought on what you said on our outing and ive decided to forgive you."
he stood up and walked over you. it never scared you before but him being so close and how its dark in his room, plus his glowing green eyes, didnt calm your nervse.
"ive decided to show you how prefect we are together... youll love the life i can give you in briar valley~"
in your panick, you pushed him away and made a ran for it to the doors. the last thing you heard made your blood run cold.
"Lilia, silver, Sebek.... after them."
"khee hee~ /Yes, sir. /Yes sir!"
~
~
without text
~~~~~
Ace
Ace is a lot of things! Mean, sneaky, and a liar! He likes to tease you a lot. sometimes it fine cause "youre with your friends and hes just teasing everyone" but sometimes hes comments to you feel too... personal..
"haha! perfect, bet no one is looking for you back home! i mean why would they? youre problay useless there as like here."
you grew quiet as your other friends come to your defence from ace's comment.
"well.. jokes on you ace. i do have someone waiting for me back at home! they are sweet and i know for a fact that they are worried sick about me right now! so HA!"
your other friends started to ask questions about your world and this mysterious person that stole your heart. which you were happy to answer their question.
sadly, you didnt notice a sad looking red head as he thought about you returning to this person...
during his afternoon club activities, ace was so out of it, he had to be benched for most the the games...
"aww~ did shrimpy leave crabby high and dry~? hehe~"
"stop teasing him floyd. but really ace.. whats going on? your game play sucks today."
"jamil.. i-"
"hehe~ its because crabby found out that when shrimpy leaves, theyre not gonna think about him at all any more. youll be washed up on the shore, stuck on your back, and shrimpy wont be there to help."
with every word floyd said, he got closer to ace. really digging deep that ace is losing you. in ace's fustrastion, he pushed the two guys away, grabbed his stuff, and headed out..
~
time had past and crowley (finally) gave you the mirror to return home! you were going around each and every dorm to give them gifts and saying your good byes.. but when you were in Heartlabyul, ace wasnt there..? Deuce explained that he problay when out but he'll make sure he'll stop by your dorm to say his good byes..
he didnt come by... and you had to leave without saying good bye to him..
~
it took a long while to get used to everything back in your world and explaining twisted wonderland to your parnter could have gone better. (they were on the fence to bring you to a pysc wraned..). your partner left to get you some of your favorite food that you missed since coming back.
you walked to the mirror that you came from and stared at your reflection.. will your first years be okay without you..? will grim be okay..? you closed your eyes to think on all your adventures, you heard a very familiar sound...
you looked at the mirror and you watched as the mirror ribbles... and then... ace appears.
"hehe~ its been a while, hasnt it? sorry i didnt get to see you when you visited. it just took me a while to make sure your new home.. is ready."
before you could step back, his hands reached for you, grabbing your shirt and pulling you into the mirror.
"i got a nice place for both of us. its a bit far from campus, but for you its worth it~ also~ you problay shouldnt run... or ill make sure you wont have anyone to return to here.."
~
~
without text
~~~~~
#twst fanart#twst#twst headcanons#twst wonderland#art#digital art#disney twst#yandere twst#disney twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twst art#twst floyd#twst floyd x reader#yandere floyd x reader#yandere floyd leech#floyd leech x reader#floyd leech#twst jamil viper x reader#twst jamil x reader#twst jamil viper#twst jamil#twisted wonderland jamil#jamil viper#jamil x reader#jamil twst#yandere malleus x reader#yandere malleus draconia#twisted wonderland malleus#malleus x reader#malleus draconia
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
strawberry lemonade
Sanji x LuffyOlderSister!Reader
the waiter walked over the table holding the plate of bread, "Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food." He said annoyed, his hand stuffed into his pockets as he placed the plate of bread onto the table
“My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?” Sanji said, looking at the table his hand in his pockets.
Luffy grabbed the bread plate. "One of everything, please," he said. [Y/n] shook her head, smiling at her always-hungry little brother who could eat a whole buffet and still ask for seconds.
The waiter approached the table with a friendly smile and a suggestion: "May I interest you in one of our signature cocktails to elevate your dining experience?" As he spoke, [Y/n] swiftly and deftly took one of the warm rolls from the basket in the center of the table. Luffy was taken aback and protested with a playful "Hey!" [Y/n] responded by sticking out her tongue, teasingly. She then tore off a piece of the warm, crusty bread and popped it into her mouth, savoring the flavor.
As she looked up, her gaze met the waiter's. Her heart skipped a beat as she noticed his flirtatious smile. "My apologies, madam. I didn't see you there. Would you like to start with an apéritif?" he asked, still smiling at her.
Her face turned bright red. "We have some rare Micqueot vintages in stock," he said, trying to impress her. "Or maybe you'd prefer a glass of Umeshu?" He continued to stare at her, captivated by her beauty.
The moment he flashed a flirtatious smile, her heart raced like a horse galloping on a race track. He leaned towards her and whispered, "You know, something sweet for someone sweet," causing her cheeks to flush with a bright red hue, reminiscent of a freshly picked ripe strawberry. She couldn't explain why she felt so nervous around him all of a sudden, her heart pounding relentlessly against her chest as if it wanted to break free.
He watched her intently, his gaze unwavering as she averted her eyes and looked down. Her cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as she fiddled with the gold Roger coin around her neck, a precious keepsake that Shanks had given her and Luffy when they were children.
He smiled at her and she looked up for a moment, smiling sheepishly as they locked eyes. Usopp clears his throat and says, "Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?" He tells the waiter ordering the drinks, "Two beers. I usually have three, but…" He said,
"Water." Nami said looking at him.
„And a milk." Luffy interrupted, "Three beers and a milk. a water. And, uh, for madam?" Sanji asked, his gaze once again falling on [Y/n] looked up at him and blushed, "U-Um, I would strawberry lemonade and a cup of strawberries," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of shyness. He smiled at her and said, "Right away." just as he left to walk towards the kitchen.
[Y/n] hid her face in her shirt while the other crew members chuckled, Luffy looked towards his older sister playfully. "Y/n's gotta boyfriend," He teasingly said to her. "S-Shut up!" She whispered shouted, elbowing him in the arm before, as the Sanji brought out her drinks. He smiled, at her as he placed the strawberry lemonade in front of her, along with the side of strawberries. Sending her a wink as he did so, her heart almost seemed to stop and her soul could've left her body.
"Y/n's gotta boy-" [Y/n] grabbed some meat on a stick, and shoved it into her brother's mouth silencing him.
#opla!sanji x reader#opla!sanji x you#opla!sanji x y/n#vinsmoke sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji x you#vinsmoke sanji x y/n#vinsmoke sanji reader insert#reader insert#sanji x reader#sanji x you#sanji x y/n#taz skylar x reader#taz skylar x you#taz skylar x y/n#one piece live action x reader#one piece live action fanfic
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Palm of Your Hand
Summary: Handcuffing Negan to the bars of his cell leaves him open for you to do whatever you want with him.
Characters: Negan & the reader (OC, second person)
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59417653
Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, Prisoner Negan, female reader, etc.
Notes: This is a short one shot to go with this kinktober list. The two prompts I used were handjobs and breast worship. Someone also recently asked me for another touch starved prisoner Negan, so here you go!
“I don’t understand why you are still doing this with me,” Negan grumbled, turning away from you to put his hands through the bars of his cell. Hooking the handcuffs around his wrists had him grunting out and he looked back over his shoulder at you. “Have I ever tried something with you? With anyone?”
“I’m just following the rules,” you reminded Negan, entering his cell with him dramatically dropping back against the bars of his cell. “You know that.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Negan countered, his right eyebrow arching up in amusement with you grabbing his bedding so that you could change it for him. “You seem like the type of person that was a bit of a rule breaker here and there. Sometimes breaking the rules can be fun.”
“And face the wrath of the people here in Alexandria?” you snickered, tossing his bedding into the laundry basket you brought with you. “I don’t think so.”
“Boring,” Negan snorted and it made you smile. Every time you came down here, Negan was constantly hoping that you wouldn’t handcuff him when you came into his cell. Then again, you were pretty sure that he was begging that from everyone.
“I’m the furthest from boring,” you suggested putting the sheets on his cot, shooting a small smirk his way. “I just don’t want someone giving me shit every day. The people here tend to have a habit of not letting things go.”
“You don’t say,” Negan snorted, a dramatic expression flooding his features pretending to have some kind of shock from your comment. “The people of Alexandria hold grudges? I would have never known.”
“Smartass,” you snickered, finishing up with his bed and standing up. Giving him a quick glance, you thought things over before unhurriedly lowering yourself down on top of his cot. Stretching out your body, you folded your arms behind your head. All the while keeping your eyes locked on his.
Tipping his head to the side, Negan’s eyes narrowed with him gazing over you, “Well that’s just rude laying in a man’s bed without asking.”
“I made it for you, I figured you wouldn’t mind,” you suggested, lowering your hand to drag your fingers up and over your abdomen toward your midsection.
“Of course I don’t mind,” Negan countered with a shake of his head, sucking at his bottom lip. His long eyelashes fluttered and he let out a rumble of a growl. “It will give me plenty to think about tonight while I’m laying in it.”
“I’m sure,” you chuckled dragging your palm across your chest. Maybe you were testing the limits and playing with him. You just couldn’t help yourself with the way his hazel eyes ate you alive from where he was handcuffed. “You jerk off a lot?”
“Several times a day,” Negan confessed, an arrogant expression tugging at his features. Dragging his tongue out over his bottom lip, his face grew hot watching you touch yourself while you laid on his cot. “Someone has to touch me. I haven’t been touched in years.”
“That’s a shame Negan,” you hummed, palming across one of your breasts leaving him breathing unevenly. “I wish I could help, I really do.”
“You’ve been toying with me for weeks,” Negan hissed wanting to look away from you, but he couldn’t take his eyes off when you allowed your shirt to ride up just underneath your breasts. “Flirting with me, wearing tight shirts to bring attention to your beautiful breasts. And here I was thinking you weren’t doing it on purpose.”
“I’ve been doing no such thing,” you feigned innocence, sitting up for a moment to reach for the bottom of your shirt. Setting it aside on the cot had Negan’s lips parting, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat and his stare eating you alive. “Why would I do that to you?”
“To torture me, like you’re doing now,” Negan growled, tugging at his wrists causing the metal from his handcuffs to clank against the bars. Sucking in a sharp breath of air, Negan lowered his head and winced. “You’re not playing fair.”
“What would you do if you weren’t handcuffed?” you lowered back down onto his cot, tracing your fingertips over the length of your abdomen. With every move, Negan’s hazel eyes followed with his lips parted.
“I would give your breasts the attention they rightfully deserve,” Negan hummed, resting his head back again. That answer had a tiny smirk tugging at your lips. The muscle at the corner of Negan’s jaw flexed as you palmed over your breast again purring out. “I’d make you feel like a fucking queen with the way I’d worship them. Palming over them and teasing your nipples.”
“Tell me more,” you hummed, circling your index finger over your nipple through the material of your bra.
An amused rumble fell deep from within Negan, “I’d spend a very long time showing you just how talented my mouth is while I’d pamper your breasts. Kissing, sucking, licking…nipping…” Negan dragged his tongue out across his bottom lip when you tugged at the cup of your bra revealing one of your breasts to him. His eyelids grew heavy with you circling your nipple with your fingertip turning it to a hard bud. “Fuck me.”
Reaching around your back, you undid the clip in your bra letting the material pull loose. Hooking your fingers into the straps, you lazily pulled the material from your body leaving you completely naked from the waist up. Hopefully no one walked by the window or decided to drop in to check on Negan because then you’d have a lot of explaining to do. And you’d likely be in trouble.
Palming over your breasts, you kept your eyes locked on Negan finding yourself incredibly turned on with the way that he was watching you. Slowly pulling yourself up from the bed, you moved across the small cell. Nudging the wooden stepping stool that they had given Negan to use when he’d look outside, you nodded down toward it and had Negan breathing loudly.
“Prove how talented your mouth is,” you demanded getting a wicked smirk to tug at Negan’s lips. Looking down, Negan yanked on his arms around and shrugged his shoulders.
“Like this?” Negan was referring to the handcuffs and you nodded your head.
“Yes ma’am,” Negan slightly lowered to his knees with a rumble, carefully balancing his weight on the wood stepping stool so that he was about level with your breasts. Stepping forward allowed Negan to lift up just enough to start peppering hot, wet kisses at the side of your neck. Closing your eyes tightly, you enjoyed the way his short beard scratched at your skin.
Gradually, his kisses lowered down over your collarbone toward the center of your chest. Balancing his weight with his arms handcuffed to the cell door was going to be hard for him, but he was managing. Growling against your flesh, Negan nipped softly at it getting you to purr out. Teasing his kisses at the swell of your breast, Negan’s big, hazel eyes lifted to watch your reaction. When his mouth reached the nipple, you felt the teasing flick of his tongue out over it before sucking faintly.
“You have such beautiful breasts,” Negan hummed against your flesh, a wet sound filling the air with his wet kisses pampering your body. Between his kisses and the sucking that followed, it had your back arching forward toward Negan who appeared to be enjoying himself while he cherished your breasts just like he said he would. “They deserved to be worshipped, not hidden away.”
Moaning out, you hooked your fingers into Negan’s dark hair caressing at the scalp when he went back to circling your nipple with his tongue. Fuck, you didn’t know where you were headed with this, but you liked it.
With a wet popping sound, Negan’s mouth released your breast letting it bounce slightly when he went to focus on the other covering the flesh with same dedicated strokes of his tongue and meticulous kisses. The bad thing about this is that you were going to want more and you didn’t know if you’d be able to get away with it. Yet, you weren’t going to complain about this. It had been so long since someone had made you feel this special.
“So fucking perfect,” Negan nipped at your flesh, dragging his tongue out over the nipple in a lingering moment.
“Stand up,” you ordered with Negan’s wet lips glistening. Looking up at you with his hazel eyes, he didn’t seem to want to comply but as you grabbed the collar of his blue shirt, he didn’t seem to have much of a choice.
Stumbling to his feet, Negan seemed confused when you slammed him against the bars to his cell. Kicking the stepping stool away, you reached out to start pulling apart the buttons of Negan’s long sleeve shirt revealing his flesh beneath. Pushing at the sides of the shirt, you let out a tremoring breath finally getting a full look at his slender body. Gazing over the tattoo that covered his pectoral muscle, you felt a breath escape your lungs. God, he was beautiful.
Outstretching your hands, you went to touch Negan and you noticed that he was trembling before you, “Are you okay?”
“I just haven’t been touched in a very long time,” Negan explained, his lips agape and his eyelids heavy with lust for you. “Not kindly anyways…”
Hearing that just made you want to touch him more. Extending your fingers, you let the tips of them graze against his flesh. That alone had Negan tipping his head back, resting it against the bars. Flattening your palms over his chest completely had him whimpering sucking in a sharp breath of air. The vein at the side of his neck was bulging slightly and it made your heart skip a beat.
Caressing down over his chest, you teased your fingers through the dark curls of hair that covered his lean torso. Sucking at his bottom lip, Negan groaned out and you were shocked by the way that he was shaking with you touching him.
“You are so touched starved,” you noted, palming up toward his shoulders and then back down again. Stepping in closer to him, you slid your hands up stroking through the dark hair over his chest. Once you reached his shoulders, you caressed at the freckle covered flesh. Leaning in, you very faintly pressed a kiss at the center of his chest. A tremoring breath escaped his throat followed by a groan. “It’s so attractive.”
Stepping back had Negan releasing a panicked breath, “Please, don’t stop. Please.”
“Wow,” you were enamored with him now having him begging you to return to him. His long eyelashes fluttered with chills flooding your body. Starting at the top of his pants, you unhurriedly lowered your hands to palm up his abdomen, over his chest and toward his shoulders. Hooking your fingers loosely around his neck, you urged him down toward you. With the warmth of your breath lingering over his, it had Negan’s eyes closing firmly. A pathetic Negan was surprisingly exactly what you needed right now. Taking your time, you dragged your bottom lip against his. It had a loud exhale following from him before you dragged your tongue out over his lips. It elicited a moan to fall from him and he licked his lips in return after you did it. “Good boy.”
Palming in over his neck, you let your thumb caress over his chiseled jawline toward his lips. With broken breaths, Negan took your fingertip into his mouth nibbling at the pad before sucking at the flesh. You gave a big smile and tipped up on your toes, tugging him to you to claim his lips fully in a passionate kiss. At first he was careful, not wanting to upset you, but when you continued to pepper kiss after kiss against his lips, Negan hungrily kissed you back. Parting his mouth and allowing your tongue to brush against his. Returning the gesture had a warmth growing at your core.
Stepping forward, you allowed the heat of your breasts to press against his chest and the skin-to-skin contact felt amazing. If Negan was shaking before, he was a complete mess after your kisses and being able to be touched like this.
“Look at you,” you palmed over the side of his face with your left hand, your right tracing over his lips again having him softly kissing at the tips. “You’re so desperate.”
Looking down between the two of you, you noticed the bulge at the center of Negan’s jeans. Lowering your hand between the two of you had Negan’s eyes dropping. Grazing the back of your hand against the material of his jeans had his hips arching forward. You’d teased him long enough. Taking one step back, you stroked over Negan’s belt, unhooking it and then swiftly pulled apart his pants eager to get the zipper down. You were being rough and he was hissing with every strong movement you had.
Forcing his jeans down his hips, you got them to his knees. Kneeling before him, you looked up at him and had never seen Negan so vulnerable before. At least not when you were around him. Taking advantage, you started caressing up over the sides of his long legs. Squeezing at his calf muscles before raising higher up toward his thighs. Circling around the back of them, you tested the flesh in your grasp until you grabbed firmly at his small bottom through his navy-colored boxer briefs. Standing slowly, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of Negan’s boxer briefs, pushing just enough at the material in the front to get his cock to bounce free from the restrictive hold they had on him.
“Fuck,” Negan winced again looking down at his throbbing length. He was completely rigid standing before you tied up to these bars and, in that moment, you could do whatever it is you wanted with him. Dropping his boxers at his knees with his jeans, you licked your lips at the sight of Negan’s cock. It was straining. What you had done in just touching him had him aching. Prominent veins donned his flesh from the thick base all the way up to the swollen red tip. “Please.”
“Don’t be greedy,” you hushed him, stepping beside him. Palming up over his chest had him sucking in sharply again, his back arching forward as you lowered your caress. Teasing your fingers through the curls of hair that surrounded his cock, you finally allowed your traces to run along the length of his shaft. Groaning, Negan’s lips parted and his hazel eyes were locked on yours. “Good boy.”
Curling your fingers around his girthy length, you took your time testing his flesh in your grasp. Lowering them to the base before dragging up toward the tip. Looking down, you watched your movements loving the way that Negan shook with just your touch alone. Lifting your hand, you spit into it then went back to pumping Negan’s flesh, focusing on his reaction to every touch.
“I wish I had a better lube, but this will have to do,” you slurred leaning up on your toes to start pressing kisses at his jawline. Each caress of your hand over his cock had Negan eagerly meeting your touch with careful thrusts of his hips. “With a cock like that, you shouldn’t be the only one touching it. You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Opening his eyes again, Negan locked stares with you. Lowering down told you that he wanted to kiss you and you met his mouth in a sloppy kiss that took your breath away. Negan’s moans vibrated against your flesh and you liked the way that it felt. You felt powerful being in control of Negan like this, having him a shuddering mess before you.
Using both hands, you pumped over Negan’s member, drawing attention to the red tip where precum was dripping from the slit. Licking his lips, Negan panted, never taking his eyes off you, “Are you going to come?”
Nodding, Negan could barely form words with you quickening the pace of your hand over his length. Dropping one of your hands, you cupped his testicles in your hand, gentle enough to have him bouncing into your touch. His throaty moans were growing more frequent and raspier.
His long eyelashes fluttered to a close, his chest rising and falling repeatedly, “Be a good boy and come for me.”
Working your caress over him harder had him hissing, burying his nose against the side of your neck. Winces were escaping his throat and you noticed his abdomen sinking in further. His thighs started to twitch with his breathing growing labored.
“That’s it, let it happen,” you urged him focusing now on the sensitive tip of his cock. At the side of your neck, Negan moaned out your name with his hips bouncing forward. Not wanting to miss, you looked between the two of you to watch the first line of Negan’s come cover your lower abdomen. Panting against your flesh, Negan continued to buck into your hand with his thick ropes of come covering both your abdomen and hand. By the time you milked him completely of his orgasm, Negan was a spent mess before you. His body was twitching, his legs weak with him being held up by the way that his hands were cuffed to the bars. With your free hand, you reached up to stroke your fingers through Negan’s damp hair kissing at the side of his face. “Good boy.”
Negan’s cum was dripping down your body onto the concrete floor of his cell, his breathing incredibly labored. Getting him to drop his head back, you gave him a tiny smile and traced your fingers over the sensitive tip of his softening cock. It was still twitching after his release with Negan’s eyelids heavy with awe for you.
“I think we can do this every time I visit, how about you?” you hummed against his flesh depositing a wet kiss at the center of his chest.
“Yes please,” Negan whimpered with a euphoric expression flooding his tired features. Hovering your lips over his had Negan whining and it made you smile. From this moment on, you’d have Negan eating out of the palm of your hand and that was an idea that you liked very much.
----
Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @pixelb4rbie @ibelongtonegan
@smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan
@redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted
@akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03
@sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf
@promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan @peachihellcat
#Negan#The Walking Dead#Negan fanfiction#Jeffrey Dean Morgan#Negan Smith#twd fanfiction#negan x reader#negan x you#negan imagine#kinktober 2024#The Walking Dead fanfiction#Negan smut
319 notes
·
View notes
Note
I want some papa Aegon II content with toddler daughter who came first before the twins. How hypocritical as it sounded, he definitely favoured her among her siblings just as Vizzy T favoured Rhaenyra. Perhaps he named her Visenya (He calls her ‘Senya), the name his eldest sister wanted for her daughter, since she named one of her sons Aegon with Daemon.
She’s a lil’ dreamer too with a hyperfixation with nature in general, but a little delight. So he basically encourages her to be a little rebellious while Helaena is a wholesome, doting mom who loves her bby.
Aegon would without a single hesitation name Senya his favorite if he was asked, you don't even have to ask, he'll tell you his five favorite things about her with no prompting.
Aegon loves her, he adores her, he would set this world on fire if she asked it.
Sure, there was the twins. The twins are great, he brings Jaehaerys to his council meeting sometimes but he loves watchign Senya toddle in with a bouquet of daisies in her hand and she gives them to each person she sees before giving her leftover to her papa. He loves them, he has someone put them in vases and then he has them pressed into bookmarks or things like that after Helaena suggested it (the only suggestion he actually took seriously)
He's always entering Helaena's room to ask about her whereabouts when he can't find her.
"She's out picking flowers, you shouldn't disturb her. She's on a very important mission." Helaena put emphasis on on important as she looked back down to the daisy she was embroidering in the handkerchief for Visenya.
Aegon made a face before he got up. "She'll need help if she's to pick a lot of flowers, I'll get a basket." He quickly found an excuse to follow after his daughter while Helaena watched him leave with a deadpanned face.
Did he really think he could fool her?
"Papa!" Visenya's smile was as bright as the sun as she beamed a smile up at her papa. "I've collected so many flowers! I even found a sunflower! I'll give it to you since i love you a lot."
He'd never get tired of hearing those words, that she loved him. She loved him not out of obligation or for lies, she genuinely loved him as her father.
"I've come to help my princess, shall I hold the basket full of flowers for you while you pick." He smiled at her, ignoring the words of his guard that he was the king and above such silly thing.
He turned and glared at him, waiting under the guard was completely quiet under he turned back to his daughter. "Hm? What do you say, Senya?"
"I'd love that! With Papa, I'll pick so many flowers! For Papa, for Mama, for Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, and uh.... everyone else too!"
How lovely his child was. He'd do anything for this smile.
364 notes
·
View notes
Text
Someone New 8
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You've had a crush on your best friend for years, but you're slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.
Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor
Note: nice to see ya again!
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
Thor makes himself as permanent as the layers of sediment. Whether you’re in the dirt or looking over the charts and maps, making notes or sorting through your findings, he appears. Knowing he’ll be there keeps you coming yourself. Despite the short nights and long drives, thinking of him finding an empty site deters you from a day off, even against Sam’s pleas.
The night before was filled with similar chiding from your friend. Sam is as persistent as ever. He always has a new account of his antics with Bucky and never forgets to tell you to take a break. You can’t stop though. You know if you do, you’ll have to think about everything you’re denying.
The time away has given you time to breathe but it’s suffocated you in new ways. Along with that weight on your chest that has a name, there’s another you can’t quite understand. The one that sees you spending your spare hours alone and your working hours longing for anything but. You’re desperate to get out but terrified of the very same.
When he arrives that day, you’re ready to give up. The tension in the air is giving you a headache and the dampness makes your skin feel sticky. You just feel gross.
“Ah, I didn’t think you’d brave the weather today,” he muses as Thunder hops around his feet. You don’t look up, in a mood as grim as the sky. “You’d do well to stay in tomorrow. Trust me.”
He’s always right about the weather. It must be the familiarity and yet it’s almost eerie how accurate he is. You might take his advice. You don’t like being wet and you’re starting to go cross-eyed from the hours and hours of concentration.
Thunder yipes as you use your gloves to brush away clumps of dirt. Thor’s footsteps mulch patches of grass that sparsely carpet the dirt. He hums as his shadows looms in your peripheral.
“Yes, my darling, I believe you’ve found the perfect spot,” he praises.
You look over curiously. What is he talking about? You only notice then that he has more than the tiny dog with him. He has a basket on his elbow and a blanket under his arm. You sit up and watch him place down the former and shake out the latter.
He spreads the blanket over the dirt and Thunder jumps onto it, rolling around on the fabric, digging her nose into the patched quilt as she wiggles across it. You clap off your hands and watch him as he gets down to his knees and flips open one side of the basket. He lays out several containers and two thermos’; one is the very same he brought you tea in.
“I thought you could use a nice lunch before the weather turns,” he stands and nears the fence, “summer doesn’t last long here. You may as well enjoy it.”
“Lunch?” You utter.
“Brunch?” He suggest coyly. “Surely you can take a break. You are only human, you need to eat.”
“You...” you lean to see around him, “you brought me lunch?”
“I know it isn’t the most elaborate picnic but I thought it might be a pleasant surprise. I must confess I’ve been rather bored these days,” he admits, “so?”
“Thor, that’s so... sweet,” you frown, “but...”
“Work, work, work. Surely they can’t expect you to work yourself to the bone, pardon the pun,” he insists, “it will only be a bit.”
“Yes, but...” you leave the sentence to hang. You don’t have a good excuse. You don’t know. It just makes you nervous. It’s a whole lot of effort for just you.
“Oh, I don’t mind if you would rather stay over there. Only mean more for, eh, Thunder?” He asks the canine tramping around the blanket. “More than happy to sit here and enjoy my jelly cookies and hot coffee.
“Coffee?” Your brows raise.
“Freshly brewed. Promise, There’s nothing pickled. Though I don’t mind a nice herring,” he grins.
Thunder bounces over and barks at you. She stands on her hind legs as she paws at the barrier between you. Now, how can you deny her?
You stand and shed your gloves. You carry them over to the table beneath the tent and grab a wet wipe from the back. You come back under the open sky as you wipe your hands.
“Sorry about all the dirt,” you scoff as you cross the dirt.
“I don’t mind,” he assures you. He pulls apart the panels of the fence to let you through. It isn’t something you could ever forget but you can’t help but be stricken again by his sheer size.
You bend to pet Thunder as she gets between your feet. She licks your fingers and you giggle. She’s cute.
“Go on, pick her up,” Thor goads, “she loves it.”
You scoop up the dog and stand. She squirms as she wags her tail incessantly. She swipes your chin with her tongue and you scrunch up your face. You carry her to the blanket and look over the spread. A leafy salad, pasta salad, sandwiches, cookies... There’s so much. Your protein bars and peanut butter and jelly can’t compare.
“Oh gosh, this... a lot.”
“Is it? Isn’t too much. We’re friends, yes?”
“Friends?” You face him as you pet Thunder’s soft head.
“Perhaps it is rather one-sided. You are obligated to be here, I just sort of haunt this place,” he chuckles.
“No, no, friends,” you smile, “that sounds about right.”
You turn away and lower yourself onto the blanket, sure to keep your boots off of it, as you hide your face. There’s a tinge of disappointment. You hear a far off echo in your head. How many times did Steve say the same; we’re friends, just friends, you’re such a good friend. Well, that’s all this is. No need to be so sensitive.
“Do you ever take time off?” He asks as he gets to his knees.
You look at him as you put Thunder down. He barely keeps her from chomping down on a rye crust. He lifts her easily and she kicks her legs.
“Eh, you beast,” he points a finger at her snout, “be good.”
He sets her back on her paws and she obeys. He tells her to sit and she does so. Her eyes continue to hungrily rove over the food. How can he resist them?
“Like you said, the weather won’t last. Should get done what I can before the ground gets cold.”
“Ah, yes, that is a concern,” he tuts, “how would you deal with that?”
“Heat lamps, tiger torch... jackhammer if I really need but I’d have to put in a request for that...” you hadn’t thought too much into the inevitability of winter.
“Ah, that’s...” he smirks, “I’m sorry but the idea of you with a jackhammer,” he snorts.
“Hey,” you pout.
“It isn’t to be mean but... you’re so gentle. When you dig, you’re so delicate about it.”
“Am I?” You wonder.
“Mm, is it a bit weird to say so?” He wonders aloud. “Yes, you are very precise, very cautious.” He takes out a set of plates and offers you one, “please, help yourself.”
“It must be boring watching. Really, I’m the one digging and it gets dull,” you accept and pluck out one of the sandwiches. Salmon, you think.
“You make it interesting,” he muses. “You talk to the bones.”
“I talk to the bones?” You repeat, “what?”
“Yes, I suppose you’re not aware of it. But your lips move when you’re focused. As if you’re chatting up the dirt,” he chuckles, “sometimes a few words do slip out.”
“They do?” You blanch before you can help yourself to the salad.
“You don’t say much. Usually something about the dishes, I’m not too sure.”
“You never mentioned,” you look away shyly.
“It’s... cute,” he shrugs.
“You mean crazy,” you shake your head.
“I say what I mean,” he counters. “No use in not. We can’t be happy if we’re not honest, not least of all with ourselves.”
You’re quiet as you turn your attention to your plate. His words feel sharp despite his placid tone. You know it’s only because they’re true, especially for you. If you’d just accepted everything sooner, if you hadn’t been so dumb, if you hadn’t been so emotional, it would never have gotten so bad. No, if you’d just been honest.
“I hope... I hope that didn’t come off wrong,” he says.
“No, no, I’m... this all looks so good and I’m starving,” you assure him as you sit back with your plate. “Thank you again. This is... great.”
“Well, I was thinking, you must miss your friends. I might be a paltry substitute but I thought i might fill that gap, even just for an hour.”
“It’s really...” your eyes tingle but you push away the tinge of sadness, “it’s really nice.”
“So tell me,” he scoops up salad onto his plate, “tell me about home.”
“I...” you begin, surprised by the prompt. “It’s just home. New York. It’s busy and loud. Not like here.”
“No, not that. Your friends. I want to know all about them. If I’m ever going to come up standards, I’ve got to know the competition.”
You laugh. He speaks as if he needs to impress you. It’s nice to be somewhere where no one knows you’re not that special. You take a bite of the sandwich and chew, thinking out your question.
You swallow, “well, my friend Sam, he calls every night to bitch at me. He’s great. Supportive but pushy. He likes to terrorise Bucky. He’s the strong and silent type, you know? Grumpy to boot but they’re... they’re awesome.” You smile without thinking, “before I left, they took me to this cocktail bar...” you blow out between your lips and roll your eyes, “real girly stuff.”
“Ooh, cocktails. I’ve been known to indulge. I love finding new recipes.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes, I love the sweet ones. I’ve only just perfected my blueberry basil concoction. I’m afraid I can’t share the secret ingredient unfortunately.”
“Blueberry?” You ponder the flavour, “sounds yummy.”
“Perhaps one day you can try it,” he suggest.
“Maybe,” you say evasively. “Anyway, yeah, Sam and Bucky are... characters.”
“They sound like it. How’d you meet?”
“Oh, it’s boring. What about you?”
“It’s not my turn,” he deflects, “tell me.”
You don’t know why he cares. It’s as confounding as everything else about him. You still don’t get why he’s here watching you sit in the dirt. It sounds as grueling as watching a golfing tournament, in your opinion. Yet here he is, a man who looks like that, staring at you in your mud-stained khakis.
“College. We met through a mutual friend,” you explain vaguely.
“Ah, so you’ve been friends for some time. Yes, I see, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” he hums thoughtfully as he toys with the braid that hangs loose by his face, the rest of his hair twisted back as always.
“Steve,” you say without thinking, your eyes drifting off into the distance, “he was my best friend. We met in art history. We spent almost every day together. Studying, whatever. He was more of a partier than me but... fifteen years, more than, and we saw each other...” You choke on your words and scoff darkly, “sorry, that’s... I’m homesick, I think.”
You bat away the glaze in your eyes and focus on your food. You take a few bites as he sits quietly. Thunder stands up cautiously and crosses the blanket. She settles against your leg, leaning her head on your thigh. It’s comforting.
“Yes, I think I would be very homesick as well. I lived in the city for a while but mother and father, they need me. And I love this mountain. It’s home. There was nothing in Oslo for me. I can work from here.”
“Work? What exactly do you do?” You ask, happy to divert from your own painful past. “Oo, are you like a farmer? Or a shepherd. There must be sheep up here or something.”
He laughs, “there are some sheep, yes, but those are protected by the government. We’ve not much of a choice where they settle. No, I’m not so savvy as all that.”
“Hm, you... oh, what could do you here?” You look around, “on a mountain... oh, tours? Do you give tours?”
He laughs, “it’s not a bad idea, but no. I’m a business owner.”
“A business. You must sell fitness or something.”
“Must I?” He narrows his eyes, “and what else do you assume about me?”
“Oh, it’s only you’re so...” you cringe as you eke out the word, “big?”
“Genetics,” he affirms, “not that but close, in a matter of looking at it. You recall that tea I brought you, with the cloudberry?”
“Uh, yeah, it was sweet. Yummy.”
“I’m happy you enjoyed it,” he smiles proudly, “I make superblends. All Nordic ingredients. There is a demand for wellness and organic products. I found the right niche and I’ve not done too badly.”
“Must not if you can live all the way up here,” you remark.
“Yes, but... it’s a reason I moved back. Business is a lonely venture. Now I’ve got it all figured out, I have my managers and my business plan, I break even, I realise how much I put to the side,” he mulls his sandwich and takes a glum bite. It’s the first time you’ve seen him anything but bright and beaming, “I feel like I’ve fallen behind. Like I’m playing catch up.”
His words sink in and storm inside of you. You crunch on the crisp lettuce and gulp. You wipe your mouth with a napkin and clear your throat.
“I know exactly what you mean,” you say breathily.
“Do you? You’re out here, on an adventure all you’re own, how brave,” his voice is wistful and his gray blue eyes reminds you of the clouds above.
“Yes, I know,” you say, “better than you. Trust me.”
You smile, a bittersweet tug in your cheeks, and he stares back at you. Your eyes cling to each other and you feel as if the world is moving around you. He smiles and a glimmer of something unfurls in your chest. You make yourself look away.
“Well,” you push the salad around your plate, “what about you? You must have friends, aside from the girl in the dirt.”
He hums and scrapes up a bite of the pasta salad. He takes his time chewing before he answers. You scratch Thunder’s nose as she sniffs at your plate.
“Yes, if you ever come to sample my cocktails, you might meet a few,” he coaxes, “I think you’d get along. Hogan and Vol, and Fandy. All good company. Sif’s not around so often when my brother’s around but he’s as fleeting as the sun.” He tuts, “I would call Loki a friend as well but he does scowl at the very thought.”
“Loki?”
“My brother of course,” he explains with , “yes, he is quite the dour one. He might get along with that Bucky.”
#thor#steve rogers#thor x reader#steve rogers x reader#angst fic#grayish fic#fic#au#series#someone new#mcu#marvel#captain america#avengers
355 notes
·
View notes
Text
See Through You
Pairing: Dark!Nick Fowler x Female Reader Summary: You head to a carnival with your best friend and get more than you bargained for when your handsome neighbor bumps into you. Word Count: Almost 4.8k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, NONCON/DUBCON, unprotected vaginal sex, semi-public sex, choking, mirror sex, possessive behavior, mentions of stalking, breaking and entering, threat of violence and implied violence (not against the reader), Nick Fowler (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fix #8 Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks to @maskedmistress87 who suggested dark!Nick with mirror and choking and @sgt-seabass and @tumblin-theworldaway for spitballing. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @buckets-and-trees (thanks for the feedback and help!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
It was your best friend's idea to wear costumes to the carnival. Though it wasn't Halloween just yet, it was a good way to get into the spooky holiday spirit. You weren't sure why you decided on a Red Riding Hood costume, but the cape would keep you somewhat warm if it got too cold. So would the stockings. You even got a basket purse so you could carry your things around and keep in theme with the outfit.
If you were lucky, you'd find yourself a big, bad wolf to play with.
After adjusting the cape around your neck, you spritzed yourself with your favorite perfume and carefully set the bottle on your vanity. You always set it to the right of your jewelry box. Strangely, it wasn't in its usual spot the last few days. Just like your robe wasn't yesterday. You swore you set it on the left hook, but when you got out of the shower it was on the right.
It would’ve been easy to write it off as a roommate messing with you, but you lived alone.
“I really need to stop watching scary movies before bed,” you mumbled as you went to your dresser and shut your underwear drawer. It was ajar a few days ago. Had you left your place in such a hurry that you forgot to close it?
The ding of your phone pulled you from your thoughts, giving yourself one more look in your vanity mirror before you went to get the device.
“Two minutes away!” Kiki messaged you.
There was a slight chill in the air as you went outside to wait, but that wasn't why you shivered. Every once in a while, you had the feeling someone was watching you. Like a pair of eyes following your every move. It didn't make sense. There was nothing about you worth watching.
It didn't stop a chill from sliding down your spine as you looked over your shoulder every time you left your home. Or when you thought about the random things that moved around your place. As far as you knew, no one knew where your spare key was. You lost sleep wondering if some creep snuck in. If someone did break in, they didn’t take anything.
But if someone went into your place and didn't steal anything, what did they want?
“Nice costume.”
You jumped at the sound of a familiar voice, almost dropping your phone as you turned toward it. “Nick, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” he smiled, but didn't sound sorry at all.
“Sure you are,” you smiled back, your heart slowing to a steady beat again as you wondered how he managed to sneak up on you.
Nick Fowler moved into your neighborhood a few months ago. He usually kept to himself, but made it a point to give you a nod when he was going to or from work. While you wouldn't say you were friends, he was friendly enough with you and didn't bother anyone. He even helped you fix your cable when it went out some time back. As far as neighbors went, he was a good one.
And a handsome one.
The man turned quite a few heads when he unloaded boxes from the moving truck and you didn’t blame anyone for looking his way. With his athletic build, he carried the heavy items with ease. He had the bluest eyes you’d ever seen and his short, dark hair only helped to make them stand out more. The scruff surrounding his lips and along his chin looked long enough to leave a delicious burn if it ever touched your skin. You hardly ever saw him smile at anyone, except you. And he smirked at you on more than one occasion.
Like he had a secret he was itching to tell you.
“You okay?” He asked, taking a step closer. “You seem a little jumpier than usual.”
“Just a little tired. Haven't slept well the last few nights.”
“Is everything okay?”
You debated telling him what was going on since he sounded concerned, but decided against it. You didn't need to burden him with that. Besides, nothing was wrong. Just the spooky season getting under your skin. “Oh, yeah. Everything's fine. I’ll probably end up crashing when I get back.”
“Well, I'm here if you need anything,” he said after a moment. Those blue eyes of his meticulously looked over your costume. “So, you have a fun night planned?”
You almost tightened your cape around your body to hide from his gaze. Not that his attention wasn't flattering. It was kind of nice. Plus he was single as far as you knew and you never noticed him bringing anyone around. “Yeah. Going out with a friend."
Nick frowned a little. “He isn't wearing a wolf costume, is he?”
You swore there was a hint of jealousy in his tone, but you were probably imagining it. “No, she isn't,” you said, smiling as his shoulders relaxed.
“Well, it’s a great costume. You honestly look good enough to eat,” he said, chuckling a bit when heat crawled up your neck. “Sorry. I hope that didn’t sound bad.”
“No, don’t be sorry. I appreciate the compliment,” you said, both of you smiling as the warmth continued to move up to your face. “Do you have any plans?”
“I may watch a movie,” he said, running his fingers through his short hair. You tried not to stare at the veins in his hands or the way his sweater hugged his muscular frame. “It's too bad you can't join me.”
Your eyebrows shot up, not expecting his offer. Was it an actual offer? He hadn't invited you over to his place before. “Is it a scary movie? I like them, but sometimes they…”
“Scare you?” he guessed, his smile sympathetic as you nodded. “Well, you don't have to worry about any bad guys with me around. I can keep you safe.”
You smiled softly before Kiki pulled up to the curb. “Maybe another time?”
“Yeah, maybe,” he said, seemingly disappointed as he nodded toward the car. “Have fun at the carnival.”
Your smile slipped a little as he walked toward his place. “Thanks,” you called out, quickly getting into the car.
“Hey! Isn't that your super hot neighbor?” Kiki asked as you buckled yourself in.
“Yeah,” you replied, looking in the mirror as she drove off. Nick had stopped before he went inside and watched as the two of you drove away. It made you shiver. “He kind of invited me over to his place.”
“What?! And you're in here with me?” she asked, lightly smacking your arm. “You should've gone with him or invited him to come with us. You could’ve gotten laid tonight.”
At the reminder of your recent lack of sex life, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with having fun, but you wanted a bit more than that. Not like anyone had shown interest in you as of late. There was the guy who lived across the street who flirted with you weeks back, but he pretty much avoided contact with you the next day.
You wondered if he moved out since you hadn’t seen him since.
“You were already on your way and I didn’t want to just invite him,” you said, loosening your grip on your purse when your fingers began to ache. “It's weird though. He told me to have fun at the carnival, but I don't remember ever telling him I was going.”
How did he know?
“Maybe he guessed. Or maybe you mentioned it and forgot. I mean, you did say you haven't been sleeping well lately.”
“That's my own fault,” you said.
“Well, lack of sleep could be messing with your memory. And may I remind you that I told you to stop watching scary movies? They always make you jumpy,” she said, glancing over at you as her smile faded. Nick even noticed your jumpiness. “Look, we can skip this and go tomorrow. I don't mind.”
You shook your head and brushed the strange feeling off. She was right. Those films made you paranoid and she didn't need to deal with that. “No, it's okay. We deserve some fun.”
“You want some real fun, go visit your neighbor when you get back. He looks like he knows how to fuck.”
“I'm sure he does,” you giggled. You had no doubt about that. “But I'm not going to find out tonight.”
“You might. Who knows? He may even show up at the carnival to hunt you down.”
You both laughed, your smile bright and happy again. No one was going to hunt you down. No one was watching you. Your life wasn't some creepy movie. You just needed to relax and have a good time.
The carnival was in full swing, booming with cheerful music and shouts from people on the brightly lit rides. As you followed Kiki though, you kind of regretted not taking Nick up on his offer to hang out. Not even thirty minutes after you arrived, your best friend bumped into a hot guy. Literally bumped into him and almost spilled her drink on his shirt. Both of them had hearts in their eyes and they had been attached at the hip since. While you were glad she was having a good time, you were starting to feel a bit like a third wheel.
You also had that impression that someone was watching you again. Your skin prickled as you looked to the left and right, wishing the feeling would go away. It was silly. No one was looking at you. Everything was fine.
“Hey,” you said, tapping Kiki on her arm as she laughed at some corny joke. “I think I may explore on my own a bit.”
Her face fell as she looked between you and her new beau. “You sure? We can-”
“I'm sure. Really,” you assured her. She deserved to have a good time and would've encouraged you to do the same if you bumped into a guy. “I'll text you in a bit so we can meet back up?”
“Or I can give you a ride home.”
Surprise was written all over your face as you spun around. That was the second time Nick made you jump today, an amused smile on his face as you held your chest. He was in the same outfit you saw him in earlier, but he now had a sticker on the left side of his chest that stated, “Hi! My name is NICK”.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, his smile immediately fading as you took a breath. Your tone was a lot sharper than you intended. “I'm sorry. You just scared me again.”
Nick peered at you before he sighed. “Didn't mean to scare you or eavesdrop. I got bored watching the movie and decided to check this place out,” he said, glancing down at his feet for a moment. “I tried waving a minute ago, but I guess you didn't see me.”
You felt like a bitch. Maybe that was why you thought someone was watching you. It really was all in your head. “Sorry, I didn't see you.”
“Sorry I scared you again,” he said.
“It's okay. Really.”
“Well, neighbor, since you're here, you two should hang out,” Kiki suggested, giving you an encouraging smile.
What did you have to lose? “Would you like to join me?”
Your neighbor's smile was back on his handsome face. “Yeah, I'd like that.”
Kiki nudged you forward, moving you closer to Nick as your stomach flipped. “Text me when you leave or if you still need a ride.”
“Don't worry. I'll take care of her," Nick promised as she walked off with her new guy on her arm, leaving the two of you alone. “Lead the way."
“Okay," you said, maintaining a bit of distance as you walked beside him. You had no clue if you wanted to play games or go on a ride. “Anything in particular you want to do?”
“You.”
Your head twisted in his direction so quickly you almost hurt yourself. “What?”
“I said ‘boo’,” he said, pointing in front of him. The two-story, brightly lit funhouse had a bunch of random words on the panels, including “boo”. Why did you think he said “you”? God, you needed to get a grip. “Should we do that? It could be fun.”
With a small laugh, you nodded. “Fun in a funhouse,” you said, stopping when the carnival worker at the entrance held up his hand.
“I’m about to go on my break. Come back in thirty minutes.”
“Oh. Okay,” you said, shrugging a little at Nick. Maybe you could find something else to do.
Nick, however, didn’t budge. “That’s quite a break. Tell you what,” he said, taking out his wallet and pulling out a bill. The worker’s eyes lit up when he saw the amount. “Why don’t you take your break and let us go in anyway? We won’t cause any trouble.”
“Stay the whole time for all I care,” the guy said, taking the money with a toothy grin and letting both of you go past to walk up the steps. “Enjoy!” he added, roping it off with a “closed” sign before he walked away.
“Go ahead,” Nick urged, waiting for you to finish going up the stairs first.
The normally whimsical music sounded strange to your ears. Maybe it felt spooky since you knew you were the only two that would be inside. Or maybe it was because the movie you watched a couple of nights ago took place in a funhouse. A group of teens went in. Nobody made it out. No, this wouldn't be anything like that.
“We really could’ve just come back,” you said, holding onto the railing as the stairs shifted back and forth. You didn’t hear Nick follow right away. Glancing back, you swore you saw him check out your ass. Not that he could see much thanks to the cape.
“You might have decided to leave before we made it back this way,” he said as you came across a spinning barrel. Just staring at it made you slightly dizzy. “Not that it would’ve been a bad thing if we left since Kiki ditched you so quickly.”
“She didn’t ditch me,” you argued as you stepped into the barrel. The sound of a laughing clown filled your ears as you did your best to walk in a straight line. “She deserves some fun,” you added, regaining your balance once you stepped onto a normal floor again.
Nick followed you so silently that you didn’t realize he was right behind you until his lips touched your ear. “So do you.”
Hot air shot out of the ceiling above your head with a piercing whistle, giving you an excuse to jump away as your heart pounded. His eyes sparkled in amusement at your reaction. “Like I said, fun in the funhouse,” you teased, putting your hands along the walls as the hallway grew narrow. It was still large enough for you to squeeze through.
“Especially since we have the place to ourselves,” he reminded you.
A shiver rolled down your spine. You wondered exactly what kind of fun he wanted to have and if you should’ve chosen your words more carefully. “You know,” you began as you stumbled into a Hall of Mirrors, frowning as you realized there wasn’t an open door or space to move through. Which mirror did you have to push to get to the next room? “You didn’t say why you were wearing a nametag.”
“It's my costume," he said, tilting his head like the answer was obvious.
You glanced around to see if any of the mirrors had any smudges, anything to give away which direction to go. They were all clean. “And what exactly are you supposed to be?"”
He smirked as he met your reflection in one of the mirrors. “I’m dressed as your neighbour who’s gonna fuck you until you can’t remember anything but my name."
You nearly fell into the mirror and he quickly caught your arm to keep you upright, the grip a bit tighter than you expected. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me," he shrugged a little as he stepped closer. “Almost wore a wolf costume so I could chase you down. The subtle hints I've dropped aren’t working, so I might as well spell it out for you.”
You tried to figure out if he was joking or not. Your reaction was to giggle. A nervous, soft laugh that seemed to wipe his smirk away. “Is that why you came here tonight? You were hoping you'd fuck me?” you asked, remembering your earlier talk with Kiki. “I don’t even remember telling you I was coming here.”
He tapped his ear. “I heard you on the phone with your friend.”
“I was in my bedroom when we made those plans. There’s no way you could've…” you trailed off, a sense of dread pooling in your stomach as he stared at you. Did his eyes always have a dangerous glint to them? “Nick, how did you hear that phone call?”
“Take a wild guess, sweetheart.”
You swallowed a little. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’ve been messing with me.”
It sounded crazy to your ears and you didn’t want to believe it because blaming it on irrational fear was easier. But the single, unashamed nod he gave you almost made you crumble. “I never told you what I do for work, but I’m good with setting up bugs and cameras. And such a sweet thing like you living so close, I couldn't help myself,” he explained casually, like he wasn’t admitting to something completely messed up. “You make such pretty noises when you touch yourself.”
“You watched me,” you whispered, your head spinning when he smirked. He watched you in your intimate, private moments. What else did he do?
“Knocking out your cable gave me the perfect excuse to get inside your place without raising suspicion. You never would've invited me over otherwise. Though you really should be more careful where you keep your spare key. Made it way too easy for me to make a copy.”
You held your stomach to keep from getting sick. So many thoughts raced through your mind as he advanced on you. Why had you ignored your instincts? Did your attraction to him partially blind you? “Why?”
“Because I wanted to. Because you’re mine. Take you pick,” he said, wrapping a hand around your neck before you could move back. “You have no idea how tempted I was to break down your door and fuck you after watching the footage. Or every time I snuck into your place. I even moved things around in the hope you’d turn to me and let me 'help you' figure out what was happening, but you didn’t. You kept your distance. Your little ‘hard to get’ act was cute, but a man can only take so much.”
Each word he spoke added a new layer of dread and alarm. He squeezed a little when you tried to pry his hand away, tears blurring your vision. Shouting wouldn’t do you any good, but it didn’t stop the screams in your mind. “I wasn't playing hard to get. I liked you,” you managed to say.
“And you weren't trying to lead that flirty neighbor on either, but you're too sweet for your own good. Don't worry. I took care of him. He'll never bother you again,” he smirked as your blood ran cold. What did he do? “Or anyone else for that matter.”
The man was insane. “Nick, you-”
He cut you off when he pressed his soft and warm lips against your mouth. You were two seconds away from biting into his bottom lip when he spun you around and shoved your front against the closest, normal mirror. It didn’t budge. “I’m tired of waiting for you to come around,” he said, yanking your cape off. “Tired of just watching when I know you belong to me.”
You froze, unable to fight or yell when he shoved your costume up. No one would hear you over the sounds of the carnival and the worker running the attraction wasn't close by. Why weren’t you fighting? Why couldn’t you do anything to stop him?
“Nick, let’s talk,” you tried to reason. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”
The sound of him tearing your underwear away made the first tear fall. “We're past the talking stage,” he snarled, kicking your legs apart before you whimpered. You weren’t sure if it was the sound that softened his gaze or the sight of your tears. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart. That’s the last thing I want to do.”
His words did nothing to soothe you when he undid his pants. “You are hurting me,” you whispered. He hurt you by bringing fear into your life when he could've just asked you out.
“Am I?” he asked, parting your opening with his fingers. He chuckled darkly as he pushed a digit in with no warning. “Then why are you so wet?”
You whined in denial, but he was right. Arousal trickled along your thighs, your hole aching with the need for him to fill you with something larger than his finger. What was wrong with you? “No,” you moaned.
“Don’t deny me,” he growled, nosing along your neck before he bit down. You yelped, the sharp pain making you tighten around his finger. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re going to have so much fun together.”
Your body betrayed your will as he played with you and you were thankful momentarily when he pulled out. The relief was short-lived when you looked over your shoulder, just in time to watch him unzip his pants and take his hard cock out of his underwear. He’d break you with his size. “You can’t, please.”
“Yes, I can,” he said as he pressed the head of his cock against your sopping wet entrance. “Now be good and take what I give you.”
“Don't-”
“The only thing I want to hear you say is my name. Let’s let your pussy tell me how much you want me.”
You screamed as he pushed inside, your walls burning as you tried to accommodate for the size of him. He hadn’t prepped you nearly enough, though your arousal took some of the pain away. He didn’t pause to give you a chance to adjust either, as if the wet sound of you sucking his cock in gave him permission to take what he believed belonged to him.
“Fuck, your pussy feels better than I imagined,” he groaned, your resolve cracking as you opened your eyes. He forced you to meet his gaze in the mirror and you watched in horrid fascination as he took you. The surrounding glass showed every angle of his claim, your reality becoming more and more distorted. He surrounded you. Consumed you. “And it’s all mine.”
You made a small sound as you braced your hands on the glass, forced to feel every drag of his cock. The more he moved, the more you tried to grind your hips back against his. It was shameful for you to like it, humiliating that you wanted to get off because of him. It was as if your body no longer belonged to you and maybe it never did. Otherwise, why would you want this?
“When I get you home, I’ll take my time. Get you addicted to my cock,” he grunted, smiling at the glazed look in your eyes. “I’ll record it. Make you see how much you love it.”
“Nick,” you gasped when he put his hand around your throat again, a silent command not to close your eyes or look away. You moved a hand to his wrist when it became harder to breathe. He loosened his grip enough for you to inhale and slid his hand down to your chest, squeezing one of your breasts with a moan. You moaned, too.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Look at you. Look at us,” he groaned as he thrust faster. The hand on your chest moved back to your throat when he reached under your skirt. “See how perfect we are together? How well you take my cock? You know you belong to me.”
The sloppy sounds of your cunt got louder as he found your clit and rubbed it quickly. It was almost too much, but you craved more. What was the point of denying him when your pussy kept trying to pull him back in? Why fight the inevitable pleasure when your body surrendered to him?
You weren’t sure how much time had passed and it didn’t matter. You were lucky to remember your own name. He was fucking you dumb and you wondered why the fear faded. You knew it would return when he finished, but you felt ecstasy for now.
“My fucking slut. Never letting you go,” he said, pinching the bundle of nerves with a smirk as you breathed his name. The familiar twist of pleasure grew and his name was the only word you said as dark indulgence flooded your veins. You were going to come and there was nothing you could do to stop it. “So come for me. Right. Fucking. Now.”
The rough demand made your fluttering hole squeeze around him almost painfully. You struggled to hold back, but the release washed over you like a tidal wave. All you could do was helplessly pant as you trembled, his soaked cock thrusting still so he could join you in sweet bliss. And you wanted it. You wanted him to come inside you.
You could hate yourself later for wanting it so badly.
“You. Are. Mine,” he growled, his name falling from your lips as he tipped over the edge. You spasmed around him still as he finished, your cunt filled to the brim. “Mine.”
You gasped for air as he buried his face in your neck, your body shaking as you pressed your forehead against the glass. Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Maybe once you had the strength you'd run. Scream. Cry.
“Look at me,” Nick breathed, his lips touching your pulse. You blinked some of the haze from your eyes as you lifted your head, your heart still racing out of control. Minus the darkened tint in his cheeks, he looked normal. Not a hair out of place. Like he hadn't forced himself on you. “Didn't have to be like this, but it would've happened no matter what."
You nodded, believing him. He took you in the middle of the funhouse without a care of getting caught. He got what he wanted.
“And don't even think about running away from me or I'll chase you down,” he added.
Feeling his spend slide out of you as he pulled out helped the reality of the situation sink in. He took you and you didn't stop him. “I won't,” you answered in a small voice you didn't recognize as he tucked himself away and fixed his pants.
“Good,” he smiled, retrieving your cape from the ground and wrapping it back around you. “Because I'd hate for anything to happen to Kiki. Such a nice coincidence that some guy bumped into her, isn't it?”
You shook your head quickly, tears forming in your eyes again. “No, don't hurt her,” you begged. If what he said about your neighbor was true…
Nick cooed as he framed your face and gently kissed your lips. It was so tender and you almost believed he was capable of being good. Almost. “Be mine and I won't.”
He said it casually, but his eyes told you not to defy him. “I'm yours,” you whispered.
“Good girl,” he said, pulling a hand away to check his watch. “Time's almost up. Let's go.”
You had a hard time moving your feet, but he put an arm around you to help. It was like you were drunk, unable to see or think straight as he quickly found which mirror to exit through. You just wanted to go home, but he took your safe haven away.
Was Nick Fowler your villain or was he an antihero for doing whatever it took to get you?
“Don't worry. We'll let Kiki know you got home safely. You can even tell her I asked you out tonight,” he said, flashing a smile at you that made him look like he'd take a bite out of you. “And when we get back to my place, I'll get you addicted to my cock like I promised.”
So, what do we think? Love and thanks for reading! 🧡
Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#navy's trick or treat nonsense#nick fowler x reader#nick fowler x female reader#nick fowler x f!reader#nick fowler x fem!reader#nick fowler x you#nick fowler x y/n#nick fowler#dark!nick fowler#dark!nick fowler x reader#nick fowler imagine#nick fowler fanfiction#nick fowler fanfic#nick fowler fan fiction#nick fowler fan fic#nick fowler fic#nick fowler au#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x female reader#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan x y/n#sebastian stan
850 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Waynes' Nanny
Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3
Book Shop Nanny
It was too nice of a day in Gotham to pass up sitting in the park. So, you packed up a little basket of food, a picnic blanket, and some toys, and rounded up the brood of children to force them into a day of outside activities. They all were enthusiastic about it, in reality, and even Mr. Wayne decided to join you.
Now, you were sat between Damian, who was getting a bit sleepy already, and Mr. Wayne, who looked too pale in proper lighting. The rest of the kids, save for Dick, were running about playing a sham game of badminton. You watched them happily, your heart leaping with every childish giggle or joke. Then, you noticed the eldest Wayne boy sitting across from you.
Dick was torn between paying attention to the group and a fine pair of brown eyes not too far away. You looked to where his eyes were to see a young redheaded girl sitting on a blanket with some friends, giggling away. Like you, they were having a picnic.
Smiling, you said, “You should go talk to her.”
“What?” Dick said.
Bruce glanced down at you, now focusing on the conversation right next to him. He didn’t say anything but listened as you said, “I see you staring at her, Dickie. Just go say hi.”
Looking over his shoulder, Bruce saw Barbara Gordon, Commissioner Jim Gordon’s daughter, sitting with her friends. Dick stumbled over his words, eventually getting out that it wasn’t really an option for him to go up and just talk to her.
“Do you know her?” You asked. When Dick nodded yes, you added, “Then it shouldn’t be a problem. Just go up and say you saw her over there and wanted to say hi.”
The boy seemed a little more interested now. “What if she really doesn’t want to see me?”
“Then get the hint and leave her alone. You’re making this too complicated.”
“What do I say?” Dick said.
Bruce was going to give some advice at that point, just to seem like a parent, but you were quick with a response. “After you say hi, ask her what she’s up to today. Just ask her about herself. People love talking about themselves.” You took a moment to yell to Jason not to be so rough with Tim and Duke before going on. “For instance, if someone asked me about my books, I’d never shut up.”
“But…” Dick paused to think. “Well, okay, I guess.”
Slowly, the boy got up and made his way over to Barbara’s group. She smiled upon seeing him approach and immediately invited him to join. Smiling, you told Mr. Wayne that you knew everything would turn out.
After a few minutes of silence, Bruce finally asked, “I never took you as much of a reader.”
“Oh, yeah,” You said with a bright smile. “I would say I read about as much as Jason, but I think he might have me beat.”
Bruce chuckled. “If reading ever becomes a job, I think Jay would be ten times richer than me...You’re always welcome to the books in the library at home, you know.”
You smiled kindly at Mr. Wayne. “I do now. Thank you.”
“Well, I think a majority of them are law and medical books, but it never hurts to brush up on your STEM knowledge.”
You laughed a little and adjusted Damian on your lap. “Oh, I’d say the books I read are a little medical.”
“What do you read then?”
You smiled before turning back to the kids, and he began to wonder if what you said had a little mischievous double meaning. Bruce stared at you, trying to find something to say, either about books or just about you, but couldn’t find the right question. Finally, he settled on just suggesting that, after the park, maybe they could all go to the bookstore. You agreed heavily, thinking that Jason and the rest of the kids would enjoy it.
“You can get something, too, if you like,” Bruce offered. “I think we can fit it into the budget.”
You laughed a little too hard at the joke, not having anticipated it from Mr. Wayne of all people. “I mean, if we can squeeze two pennies together then why not!”
“But, you do want to go?”
“Of course, I’d do anything for a free book,” You said with a playful wink.
Bruce chuckled as he looked back at his kids, thinking that just maybe there was a bit of weight in your advice.
#jason todd#red hood#bruce wayne#batfamily#romance#clark kent#dick grayson#slow burn#damian wayne#tim drake#cassandra cain#barabara gordon#batman#bruce wayne x fem!reader#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x selina kyle#duke thomas#batgirl#black bat#spoiler dc#stephanie brown#dc spoiler#robin#dc robin#red robin#the nanny au
217 notes
·
View notes
Text
Far From Home
Spiderman Across the Spiderverse
Obsessive!Prowler!Miles Morales x Spidergirl!Reader
Warning(s): slight violence, nothing too crazy
The adrenaline pumped through your veins sending a dull thump in your ears. As you and Miles traveled through the multiverse, your hands intertwined, somewhere along the line, a rift shook the two of you apart.
And once separated you screamed for Miles to him, arms reaching no helplessly as he was dumped into god knows where!
“Bug! Bug! Miles!” you yelped being thrown into the room. Miles’ room. But he wasn’t here! He must have been sent to the wrong dimension!
Your panting breaths filled the silent room as you looked around. What could you do? Your hands trembled as you tapped the watch, whispering your thanks to Hobie as you located where you were exactly.
“Earth…42…” your eyes widened. Miles was home….but where were you. Your arms settled as you took in the state of this room.
From the cracked door you could hear the front door open and see the flicker of light. Ms.Morales’ voice mumbled spanish into the empty apartment and her footsteps grew close to the door.
Quickly you latched onto the ceiling, pressing yourself as close as possible. Thankfully she neglected to cut the lights on as she entered the room, a laundry basket settled on her hip, still dressed in her work clothes.
“Ay, this boy…” she huffed, shaking her head grabbing the unclean clothes scattered across the floor and dumping them into the basket.
With every turn she made around the room you did your best to remain behind. She continued to move oblivious to your presence ce too she stopped for a moment. Your breath stopped thinking you let out a creak or dropped something to raise suspicion.
But instead she reaches for a picture on his mess of a desk. In the dark you watched a tear fall down as she gazes at this photo.
“Ahh, I wish you were here sometimes…he’s closed off since you’ve gone,” she shook her head letting the picture go back into its spot and turn on her heel.
She adjusted the basket on her hip to use her free arm to rub at her eyes, once she was gone you quickly shot a web at the door, pulling the door closed as quietly as possible.
Slowly you settled back down on the ground and walked to the desk, and with shaking hands you held a picture of…you? But it wasn’t.
You must’ve been in freshman year, that was the year your mother suggested you get braces. Cause in this picture they’re bright with your toothy smile. You wore a bright pink strawberry patterned cardigan with a cami white dress. And you were wrapped up in the arms of Miles. Two large smiles were on both of your faces.
“Aaron! You shouldn’t have…”
“No..” you pressed your body to the door slowly cracking the door open and looked through. Your eyes widened and you could feel your heart pick up at the sight of his uncle. He was alive? But if he was alive, that meant the prowler was rampant in Brooklyn.
You quickly ran to the window. And shook your head as you stepped out onto the fire escape. The streets were darker, more empty. And any one who was out looked like someone you would have put away in your universe.
“No…no..no!” you shot a web to the top of the building pulling yourself up to pace on the buildings ledge. “Miles, where are you! Come on, think!...”
That spider was meant for you and earth 42’s Miles. You were destined to be Spider-girl….He was a mistake. Now there’s an earth without a spiderman and a spider-girl.
You pushed your hood back slowly, shaking your head. There was no hero here. No spider man OR spider girl. Why would the universe kill you then if you were needed?
Slowly your head turned and your eyes widened beneath the mask. Your unmasked face plastered on a brick wall, next to, “Mr.Morales….” your breathing picked up, the eye of your mask widening as well.
Your head turned like a swivel till it landed on a spray painted billboard. Your mask and colors spray painted stood out high amongst the chaos. Like a SOS to the universe. Like you….were dead. You were killed in this universe.
“I need to find Miles! Where ... .where would he be…The academy right?” you paced back and forth pulling your hood up to shield yourself from the rain that begins to come down. Yet just when you were about to send yourself into the night sky a voice stopped you. A familiar voice that sets off your senses.
“Mi vida?” Your eyes widened and slowly you turned. You were faced with the prowler and on instinct you crouched low.
“What have you done! You killed him didn’t you!” Even if he wasn’t your Mr.Morlaes, even if you were still living. This Prowler was enough to make your blood boil.
“Amor no ... .listen” you quickly throw one of your orbs down, setting off a large explosion of thick bright pink smoke and shooting a web into his chest pulling him to you to knock him onto his knees and fight his gauntlets off of him. Only, he didn’t fight back as hard. He only deflected every punch and twist that you sent him.
Every punch and kick filled with an unexplainable rage as you knocked him around the building.
“Where is Miles! What have you done to his father!!!” your webs secured his arms and legs as you held him to your masked eyes.
“Amor….” you shook your head and pressed the side of his mask. And when it dissipated to reveals…him. Your bug, your,
“Miles…”
A sharp pain shot your head and you swayed, your hands released him. Your body dropped to the side.
It was dark and quiet now, Aaron, oh…why is he looking at you like that? What’s he saying to…Miles, but he’s not your Miles.
But your eyes are heavy, and the pain is so much. Too much. So you let your eyes rest shut, succumbing to the dull thud and dining in your ear.
It’s quiet when you wake up. Your body was wrapped in something soft and warm, the pitter of rain and echoes of thunder would have lulled you back to sleep.
But when your body pixelated and glitched throwing your body out of your comfort onto the floor you were wide awake grasping at the discarded blanket as you clench your eyes till your body settles.
You coughed into the silence.Your vision cleared as you took in where you were. Aaron’s old apartment. Only it was like some comic book villain lair. With plans and papers scattered and pinned to the wall and across a table.
The punching bag dangled in front of you from the couch you were laid on. You pressed your back to the couch, closing your eyes.
‘Let’s regroup, Miles was the prowler, you're dead here along with Miles’ dad and Uncle Aaron was alive.’ You held your wrists out cursing, no web shooters and they took the watch. That’s why you're glitching.
“How’s your head?” You flinched as the shadow in the kitchen shifted to Aaron who slowly walked to you, a glass of water in his hands as he eyes your crumpled form.
“I ain’t mean to go so hard. If I knew it was you.” he leaned forward holding the water for you. You hold it, but you keep Aaron’s gaze. He holds a hand out for you to grasp and let him pick you up to settle you back into the couch.
For a moment it felt like when you first met Miles’ uncle. How he psyched you out before smirking and questioning if you were the girl that got his nephews heads in the clouds.
And he does, he smirks like Aaron once did. “Nothing in it. I wouldn’t do anything to my niece.”
“I’m not though” your voice is hoarse.
“You aren’t” his smile slowly drops as he leaned back, “and at the same time you are just like her.”
“I'm not her. She’s dead. And you…” you shook your head looking down into the water.
“He’s what? Mi vida.” He steps from the inky blackness of the shadows while his uncle disappears.
All thats left is the silence as he stares down at you, and you take in how different Miles is here. It all makes sense.
Uncle Aaron and Mr.Morales were like Miles’ yin and yang. And Miles was that shred of goodness, of hope for Uncle Aaron. But without his father the balance tipped. Kingpin was surely alive and roped in this Miles. He was the Prowler.
“Miles…” and his eyes soften. You must have been gone a while in this universe. “ I have to…I need to get back. I’m not her. I don-”
“Back to him?” His brow raises and that cold look settles back in his eyes. You’d never seen such distaste in them before it struck a nerve. It sent ice into your veins as he stepped forward.
Your skin prickled in unease as he used the knuckle of his pointer to gentle cradle your chin and drink in your eyes.
“The one who took it all from me. He’s got it good, don’t he?” And your eyes lower. Because you can’t deny the hurt you feel for him.
This Miles should be the one keeping things safe on this earth. Should have a father. Should have a spider-girl by his side, to help, to love. But you need to explain it. How the Spot is the one to blame, not your Miles.
“Miles it isn’t his fault I promise. It was someone else. I can help you, we both can. But you have to let me go back home” you plead, trying to keep your voice steady as his gentle caresses halt. His head tilts.
A beat passes before he’s pinching your cheeks right and leaning forward just a breath away. His eyes pierce your soul and your heart begins to pound against your ribs.
The glass cup slips out your hand shattering into a million pieces just like your resolve.
And his fury is quiet, but you hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. “He stole my father, my life. He stole you from me. I don’t give a damn bout that fraud. Long as I got you back in my life, he’s safe.”
The threat lingers in the air and your heart drops to your stomach. Miles was smart. A genius. And for all you know he’d begun picking at the watch. If he could find a way to get to your Miles, he would have.
And something tells you that if he does, you wouldn’t be seeing him again. So you swallow what feels like cotton down your throat and try to stand firm.
But a tear is dripping down your cheek that he catches. He’s gentle again in cradling your cheek as his thumb catches the stream of tears.
“Things will be different. Better. I’ll be better for you mi corazon. I’ll keep you safe this time.”
#miles morales x spidergirl!reader#miles morales x reader#miles morales imagine#prowler!miles x reader#42!MilesMorales x reader#spiderman across the spiderverse#across the spiderverse#Earth 42!Miles Morales x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Shy
Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4
Sturniolo Little Sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets
SLS x Nathan Doe
Warnings: kissing, language, etc. Pure fluff!
SLS/N's POV
I woke up in Matt's bed, alone, unlike last night when I fell asleep with him watching a movie. I fell asleep in a pair of Chris's boxers and one of Nick's hoodies, looking like a train wreck. I throw my hair in a messy bun and then check the time.
11:15 am. Damn, I slept in.
Yawing, I quickly stood up and made my way to the kitchen. I heard my brother's voices coming from the couch as I walked in.
Only it wasn't just my brothers.
Sitting on the couch were Nick, Matt, Chris, and Nathan, who I completely forgot flew in from Boston this morning. He gave me a small smile as I met his eye.
They all turned and stared at me. I immediately felt my face turn red as I looked down at my feet awkwardly.
"Oh good! Sleepy head his up." Nick said. I gave a fake little laugh as I backed out of the room, mumbling something about getting ready. Once I rounded the corner, I sprinted to my room.
I cannot believe I just walked into a room with Nathan Doe, looking like absolute shit.
-
I changed into some cargo jeans and a crew neck, I also curled my hair and added some light makeup to my face. I was desperately trying to revive my first interaction with Nate.
I walked downstairs again, trying a new technique, rather than boxers and a baggy sweatshirt.
When I got downstairs, everyone was still on the couch, but now they had bagels. I grabbed one and sat next to Chris, who just so happened to be a couch cushion away from Nate.
"Well didn't someone dress up all fancy? Big difference compared to Matty's boxers." Chris said, nudging me in my side. I punched him lightly in the shoulder, giggling as my face turned red again. Nate laughed with us, meeting my eye again.
"So, what should we do today?" Nick asked the group, all of us finishing the last of our bagels.
"Top Golf?" Matt suggested. We all nodded in agreement.
"Sounds good to me!" Nate said cheerfully. He stood up to throw his plate away, but as he passed me, he said,
"Lemme get that for you." As he took my plate for me. I smiled at him for a split second before looking away and mumbling thanks, my cheeks feeling hot.
-
As the smallest, I usually sit in the middle back whenever we have company riding in the car with us. Only this time, I was squished between Nick and Nate, our legs constantly touching.
I felt the butterflies rise in my stomach with every little movement, my heartbeat quickening its pace.
But we soon arrived at top golf, our legs separating as we got out of the car.
-
About halfway through a basket of donut holes later, it was my turn to swing again. I placed my ball on the T and swung, barely missing the little red one. My brothers have always been better at gold than me.
"Oh, that was so close SLS/n! But here, try more like this next time." Nate said, walking towards me.
He wrapped his arms around me, grabbing my hands and helping me swing. He was talking, but I wasn't comprehending. The only thing I could think of was how close we were.
"...Got it, SLS/N?" Nate finished.
"I-Um... yeah, thanks," I said, quickly averting my eyes from his perfect smile. He stayed up at a matt since it was his turn, while I bolted to sit next to Nick. I could feel the heat all over my face.
"Someone blushing again," Nick said, nudging my shoulder. I gave him a Please don't say a word look and he just chuckled and then stood up, going to take his turn. But to my surprise, his seat was filled by Nate moments later.
And the cycle continued.
-
It was late. 1:04 am to be exact.
Everyone came home exhausted from our day of fun, showered, and then hit the hay. Except for me.
I woke up thirsty, so I walked down to the kitchen, turned on the overhead lights, then filled a cup with water.
As I was taking small sips of my water and scrolling through my notifications on my phone, I saw someone's hands being placed on the counter on both sides of me.
I quickly spun around, almost spilling my water and dropping my phone in the process, and came face to face with Nate.
I let out a breathy laugh, saying,
"Holy shit, you scared the fuck outta me!" He laughed lightly, giving me a lazy smile, his arms still on either side of me, trapping me.
Butterflies.
Our noses were only centimeters apart, and Nate was only leaning in closer.
God, I hope I don't have morning breath, I thought as he gently laid his lips against mine. He smelled amazing and tasted even better.
After a couple of seconds, he started to move his lips along mine, deepening the kiss. Just when I was starting to get the hang of it, he pulled away.
My face got hot and turned beet red as I rested my forehead on his chest, hiding my face.
"No, no, none of that. Don't get all shy on me baby." he said, laughing lightly as he used his index finger and thumb to lift my chin. I looked into his eyes, and just as I thought he was about to kiss me again, he backed up, moving his arms.
"You should go back to bed, you need rest." He then reached behind me and grabbed my water glass, taking a sip, and then handed it to me. I took it, staring at him dumbfounded as he walked back to Chris’s room.
Shortly after, I did the same. But as soon as I laid down, my phone buzzed.
It was a text from Nick.
I fucking knew it.
-
Pt. 2????????
Lemme know!
#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo smut#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo sister#nathan doe#nathan doe x reader#nathan doe smut#the sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo x reader
447 notes
·
View notes