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hazelfoureyes · 2 days

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A Doe in Fall (part 5)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 6 Posting Thursday April 25

Part 5 Too Much

Actions famously speak louder than words, so what did you say, exactly, to Alastor with your actions that night? You were briefly rattled by what happened in the park but not for the obvious reasons. Despite everything, despite your fears, you found the situation deepening between you two when he suddenly invites to stay the night at his home. Perhaps he had fears of his own?

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, No smut! That’s next part because this part was already super fucking long 😭 , but we do flirt our asses off and get taken by the hand, crying, panic attacks, discussions of murder, dead bodies, you really have to stop smoking, deer, adorably nervous Alastor, this man owns more than one mug you fucking know it」

19 days later… 😩 please don’t kill me. 5000 words here, Another like 6000 words are posting this Thursday, also tumblr wouldn’t let me post this for like an hour , just gave me error messages, I had to copy and paste 4 times so there may be some errors in here so let me know if you find spelling or format issues🙏

When he came to, momentarily either unconscious or just incapacitated as his brain started up again, he was frantic for his glasses. He could hear the sounds of a brutal death, the crunch of anger, the squish of rage.

His eyes focused now, slightly askew and smudged glasses helping him see you clearly.

Leaning over the man, hands red and face twisted in a marriage of fear and wrath, you were bringing a large rock down on the man’s unrecognizable face over and over and over and—

You flinched when Alastor’s hands delicately slipped down your arms and peeled your fingers from the rock.

Full body shaking, “He was going to kill you!” You said it too loud, too fast. “He was going to—,” Your breath got caught in your throat, “He wanted to— He was trying to kill you, Alastor.”

Wet with mud and blood and the rain still left on the grass, you were pulled into Alastor’s lap. He tucked your head into the crook of his neck with a small wince and hugged you. “He was. He almost did.” Low and slow, his chest rumbled when he said it. “You did such a good job.”

You looked down at your hands, but he pulled your face back up to look at his, “Always surprising me in the best ways.”

You’d forgotten already, how when adrenaline wanes you’re left with terrible tremors and a suddenly clear head. Alastor almost died. You hadn’t thought at all when it happened. Everything had taken place so fast, faster than your brain could process.

You had seen Alastor stop struggling against the man, his body went still and your eyes were blinded with tears, there was a horrible sound that may have come from you, and then there was nothing. A flash of running Colors. Distant muddled sounds.

Maybe you saw someone grab a rock.

You might have hit the man on the back of the head.

You think he fell down and something didn’t stop moving against him.

Perhaps you thought if you hit him enough you could make it have not happened at all. If you killed him fast enough, Alastor would have been fine and standing.

But you weren’t sure. You blinked and Alastor was touching you and underneath you was a pulp of a man’s face.

Alastor’s heart was racking against his ribs. Arms tightening around you unconsciously as his eyes landed on the dead man.

He’d gotten too comfortable. He pushed too hard. He wanted too much. He was too much.

He felt himself spilling over and staining your hands metaphorically and now literally.

You didn’t feel anything. Not during. Now you felt too much.

Your mind was filled with an echoing chorus of, ‘He almost killed him. He almost died. He almost killed him. He almost died. He almost died. He almost died.”

There was a strange fear that Alastor had died, and any second you’d blink again and be alone in the trees with two dead men. You twisted in his lap, hands rocketing to Alastor’s face and gripping the sides of his head. You were staring into his eyes, panting.

“You can’t die. I’ll—,” tears poured down your face in streams not drops. Your throat closed around the words. Short and fast, your breath ran wild. Hands tingling, your lips felt like they were pricked with a hundred tiny needles.

Alastor pushed down his own mess of emotions, “One deep breath in.” His hands settled on yours, still on his face. He could feel the familiar stickiness of drying blood in his hair. “Keep breathing in.” You coughed, shaking your head no. “You can, I promise it. Would I lie to you?”

You laughed, managing to catch your breath for a moment, “Y-yes.”

“Well, now you’re adding insult to injury.” He made a show of rubbing his neck. You smacked his chest lightly, breathing in twice in a row.

He held both of your hands in both of his, “Name a time I’ve ever lied.” He distracted you but wounded himself. He could name a time.

You tried to think. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re just a really good liar.” Your voice was hoarse.

Alastor nodded, “That’s true, there’s actually nothing I can’t do well.”

Another laugh, a cry, “Stop it.”

His warm, clean hands wiped your tears. “You’re being aggressive again, sweetheart. You know I prefer soft spoken women.”

The laughter helped break the cycle of hyperventilating. As your breathing finally got to a manageable speed you felt exhaustion deep in your bones.

All at once the sensations became prominent. Your knees were red and muddy, your hands bloody, your left side and back wet. You were sticky and sore and cold. “Alastor,” his legs were framing you, yours now folded under yourself and digging into rocks, “I wanna go home.” You adjusted his glasses, “Together.”

If he had a reason to say no, he ignored it.

“I thought I was the messy one.” He washed your hands with the water cans and settled you into the passenger seat of his car. Alastor took care of filling the trunk and cleaning the ground before sliding into the driver's seat.

He turned to you, his face dirty and clothes worse. You looked down at yourself; knees a color of wine, and blue dress now dyed brown.

“I know you have to get rid of him. So, I won’t ask you to sleep over. Just,” you felt sleepy, mind asking you to let it catch up, “let me take care of you for a little bit. Okay?”

His hand slipped onto your leg, he wanted to make a joke about sex or murder hoping to make you laugh again. But it was obvious he needed to be quiet, so he just nodded.

Alastor left the car on a side street behind your building. The man whose name you never asked concealed under canvas and red oil tins.

Luckily everything was clean in your apartment. It was small, just one room and a bathroom. The other apartments you’d seen had communal toilets and showers so you were quite proud of your space. You’d made it yours, gifted trinkets here and there, walls decorated with hanging dried flowers you'd had thrown at your feet. A shrine to your abilities.

You peeled off his clothes, tossing them in the kitchen sink and wiping off as much dirt as you could with a damp rag.

Clothing hanging over the radiator, you both got into the shower. Cold and wet now hot and soaking, you took his hands and sat you both down in the tub while the water ran down. Taking your time, you gently scratched the blood and mud from his hair and let it all wash away.

When fully cleaned and dried off he slipped on the only bit of clothing he had left, a loose pair of boxer shorts. You had a slip, silky and soft, to comfort you. Your mother wore silk, and it always made you feel safe. The way the fabric slid around its self and others, never catching or bunching up, was something you always hoped to emulate; smooth and cool, but always in need of a little caution and care.

A small bed meant for one, but you offered it. When Alastor motioned for you to slide in too, you didn’t hesitate.

Nose to nose, the room was quickly heating up with the radiator's help.

You hadn’t been in a bed with Alastor in nearly two months, not since that first time. His words stuck to you like embroidered messages lovingly stitched into a handkerchief you didn’t want to lose. So you kept your hands between your thighs, still and away, to make sure he had space to exist in your bed.

“You saved my life.” Alastor whispered, one of you finally bringing up the obvious.

A hummed acknowledgment, “That makes us even.” He saved you before, you did the same in turn. A little piece of you worried the contract was done and he’d disappear.

“No, my dear. I owe you so much more.” A kiss to your cheek.

A terrifying thought took hold of you. “Roll over.” He looked confused but did. You were always asking him to turn away, always trying to hide your face when you said things that scared you. You hooked your arms under his and held tightly.

“If I wasn’t there, there’s no one to have told me. How long would I have waited,” another torrent of tears into his back you couldn’t keep in if you tried, “at the phone booth for you to call in the morning.”

You were crying like a child, uncontrolled and with your entire body. Pathetic.

He had never had someone to worry about those details. Everyone truly close to him was dead. Until now, of course.

Of course.

What a natural addition you provided to him. He thought it like that it was a long standing fact.

He hugged your arms tighter to his chest.

A shiver of fear in the warm bed as you continued, “I want to be there. With you. Always.” You gathered your courage. Shields completely down, if just for a moment, “I know there was nothing right about tonight but,” you wiped your tears off his back with your palm, reabsorbing that pain before he could soak it in, “Please. Don’t shut me out now. I’ll go to hell tomorrow for you but please don’t damn me to picking up a newspaper and seeing your name in the headlines; Learning you died in block letters for a nickel. I wouldn’t survive it.”

You didn’t want to meet his eyes, worried rejection was waiting for you there, so you’d asked him to turn so you could hide. He picked up your hands and kissed your knuckles one by one. “Please don’t say things like that outloud. Things like ‘go to hell’ and ‘tomorrow’ so close together. The spirits can hear you.” A kiss to your palm, “And I wouldn’t dare shut you out.” He couldn’t. The very idea of going back to how he was before, alone and mumbling to the dead, made his heart race with his own panic. If you disappeared tomorrow he was scared to think what would happen to him. “Plus, I know you’d just find me anyway. You always do.”

Had you not been there, he would have still tried to kill the man. Waiting in an alley or for a walk home through an empty space. You weren’t at fault. He’d been hurt before, but this was by far the worst situation he had been in. But he would have been in it regardless of your participation. Alastor pressed his lips into your hand, smelling the soap you’d washed him with.

You hadn’t hesitated. He had thought you would run, that he’d slip away into death and you’d book it to safety. Something he never planned to ask you to do, to kill someone, you’d done it for him when it was the most selfless option. Did he mean so much to you? He wanted to ask, but if you said anything other than an immediate yes he feared he would turn to a pillar of salt and crumble.

If you both could find the courage to just look at each other you’d have all your answers. But you couldn’t. The fear still too strong. So you changed the topic for a chance at an escape.

A small confession, to turn the conversation away from death. “After our dates, your cologne always lingers on my clothes. Sometimes I just fall asleep in them. When I wake up, my pillow smells like you.” Your body formed against his back, pressing as tightly as you could. How was that less embarrassing than everything else you’d said when it was arguably more pathetic?

He was quiet. You worried you’d pushed too far. Alastor worried he’d already hurt you too much.

“If you asked me,” he spoke slowly, hands resting on yours above his heart, a deep breath, “I’d stop.” He would.

But, “I’d never ask that of you.” You said it so quickly, like blinking or yawning it happened without you needing to think about it. Alastor did something he felt he needed to do, you saw that look in his eyes before and understood this was Alastor at his truest. And the people he killed weren’t good people. He provided a service to New Orleans that no one appreciated.

He smiled against your palm, making sure you felt it, “Why are you so good to me?”

Without hesitation, Because I love you.

After a beat of silence, “Because you know where I live, obviously.”

A huff, “And where you work.”

“And the park where I like to get fingered.”

Finally, his unburdened laugh, “I didn’t expect you to say that.” That sound of his joy bounced off the thin walls around you both. He rarely expected anything you said or did. It was part of your charm. Normally he could predict what people would say like reading a bad story, but you were something else. Effortlessly entertaining, was that a compliment? He was sure you’d say no and make that face you always did, something between a pout and a glare, between sad and angry.

He had been asking genuinely. Why were you so good to him? Why so patient? Why care at all?

“Can you sleep? Or do you need to go?”

Alastor thought about it, if he left early enough he could still get home in time to empty the trunk. He hummed an affirmative, when he didn’t move you understood it was the former. He didn’t want to go. He needed more time. He needed to feel you nearby. An odd sense that if he pulled away now the thread holding you two together would pull him apart at the seams with the distance.

You would think nightmares would plague you after killing someone in cold blood, but no. You practically killed Tommy, when you considered it thoroughly. And while this night was not a joy, you had defended yourself and Alastor. You didn’t feel bad. You didn’t regret it. You were just scared you did a bad job. That you’d get caught.

The kind of dreams you had were different kinds of scary. Of Alastor always leaving a room when you entered, of falling off the stage and landing too far down, of waking up to feel Alastor cold beside you.

When you did wake, your arms were still tight around him and he was warm. Your forehead rested between his shoulder blades. You didn’t feel different this time, you didn’t feel changed like after Tommy.

Alastor always had nightmares so he wasn’t surprised to have them in your bed. He dreamt he awoke on the ground, the man was gone but you were there broken into several pieces.

Had it been a dream though?

After he dressed, you brushing his hair over a shared cup of coffee (you only had the single mug), you walked him to his car. The sun was nearly up and luckily no one else was. You had just wrapped a coat around your slip, not exactly acceptable clothing for being in public.

A shared kiss, small and chaste, Alastor’s mind elsewhere. He opened the door but stopped and turned back to you. It was always in these moments before you two parted that he felt the most frantic.

“I know we love talking in circles and making jokes, but I have to ask you, bluntly. You killed a man. Are you alright?” When you only blinked, he quickly added, “It’s okay if you’re not.” His expression was pure worry, furrowed brows and flat mouth. “Nothing will change if you say you’re not.”

When you started to smile, Alastor thought he had lost his mind. The sun was rising behind you, making the shadows on your face slowly shift. He took a second to take in the scene. Ankles naked with sockless shoes. To your right was a trunk full of a dead man. And you just smiling like he’d made a joke. Which he explicitly said he wasn’t going to do.

“I don’t feel like I killed anyone.” You said it with a levity that made him glance around, wondering if you’d hit your head a little too hard earlier, “I feel like I stopped someone from killing you. Which feels,” you fought to suppress your smile from growing any further, “kinda good. Like I’m strong. I’m just scared I made a mistake and police will find out. I’m terrified we’ll be seperated. But I don’t feel bad.”

A normal man would be deeply concerned. You didn’t feel bad? For killing a man with a rock? Arguably one of the most brutal ways to murder a person. A normal man would worry he would be next.

Luckily for you both, Alastor was not a normal man. He stared at your face, trying to discern any hints of deceit there before he fell into the comfort of trust.

Your pinky came out, “I’m fine, and if I’m ever not, I will tell you. Promise.” His eyes left your face to stare at the tiny digit, “If I break the promise, you get to break the pinky.”

“Pinkies are useless, we should use a finger that matters.” He offered his index. You let yourself laugh, hooking your pointer finger with his.

Smile to smile, he exhaled his stress and slipped into his normal demeanor, “No worries, darling! No one will ever know what happened to him.” He leaned beside you and patted the trunk. “Leave it to me.”

Alastor drove away with the man, ready to disappear the body and try to sleep before work if possible. A nagging still sat in his stomach, a little pull that maybe you’d change your mind.

He asked you the next morning, on your routine call, if he could stop by the theater when he finished with work that night. No reason in particular. He’d pull into the side street, and you could run out to see him.

When he arrived, you were in your stage outfit waiting to greet the crowd. Alastor smiled, “The prettiest bird I’ve ever seen!”

“A bird? Alastor just ‘pretty’ woulda been a fine compliment.”

He offered an apology by way of kiss, soft hands coming to your cheek as he leaned against the door of his car. “I just wanted to see you. Steal a kiss before you stole some hearts. May I return tomorrow?”

Ah, that feeling again. Stupid school girl with her first crush, her first taste of love. “I wouldn’t complain.”

That flow of conversation eased Alastor, things felt normal already. For you, they were. A small worry remained he may begin to act differently but the only difference was he seemed to be embracing you deeper.

After your delivered kiss, you took the stage like a woman reborn. The warmth of the light felt like the sun. Pointed toes as you moved along the stage, hips loose and smile coy.

As you looked around the backlit crowd you didn’t search for a good mark. The times you did play a man’s attention for Alastor were different, it felt like art when you lured men into Alastor’s claws.

A shake of your feathered fans, a very controlled lowering of your head, you let a hip rock out into view. A little flash of inner thigh. Then, your favorite part. One hand gripped your fans as you them with the aide of practiced fingers. Free hand undoing your still remarkably heavy and glittering bra and handing it behind the curtain.

Surprise reveal, a naked magic trick done behind distracting whirling feathers. Arms open, fans high, you waited for the applause to die down. Deep breaths were not possible, adrenaline and the weight of your costume keeping you from hiding the heaving of your chest.

The whistles were your favorite. You couldn’t imagine Alastor whistling but you were sure it would be flawless in its ability to capture your attention.

“Anyone wanna smoke? I don’t want to go into the alley alone.” You asked the room, several girls glancing your way and shaking their heads no as you hurried back in from your set.

“Just take the fire escape to the roof. That’s where we’ve been smoking since Mr. Brady said it was dangerous at night.” Florence was normally a perfect smoking partner, never talking too much. The name Brady made your stomach flip though, you had forgotten about him for a second. You’d managed to avoid him until Tommy’s bloody trail went cold, but you knew he still stalked around the jazz and music district.

A dancer laughed, “Nighttime has always been dangerous for women.”

Someone you didn’t see added, “Fuck, daytimes not safe either.”

You climbed the creaky and seemingly forgotten-about fire escape to the roof. The breeze hit your face before your feet even left the metal railing.

It was… a roof. Grey painted floors and brick sides. Nothing special, but you could see the bowl full of discarded cigarettes near the front of the building. You looked over the short wall that edged the front, you were able to see the pigeon shit covered marquee. What an unattractive view, the lights flashing out from beneath actual shit.

There was a metaphor there, you were sure.

Looking around, there were a few wicker chairs hidden in the shadow of the street’s lights, thankfully upside down to keep them clean from the birds.

If more people used roofs instead of alleys Alastor would be out of luck. Tommy was difficult enough with a staircase, the fire escape would have been the nail in that coffin.

It had been a lovely night, absolutely jarring compared to the night before. You leaned back in the chair, you knew you weren’t the best at saying what you meant. Especially when the words you offered could be used to hurt you. Words of affection and love, when true, were daggers given handle-first to someone else.

So you hoped Alastor could guess how much he meant to you. You shouldn’t need to say it, right? Actions speak louder than words. You bludgeoned a man to death for what you had thought was a lost cause. It had seemed Alastor was already dead when you first brought down the rock.

Diamonds are rocks, you considered. The most expensive costume the theater had was peacock feathered with shining crystals. You wanted to say you felt like a peacock, spirit large and wide and colorful. But those were males. Of course they were. The animal kingdom had males compete for mates with pretty colors and lovely songs. Now ladies pranced around in painted faces and short dresses. You didn’t feel pale or small like the ‘fairer sex’ peacock.

You felt like the swan. Vicious and beautiful, not out shone by anyone.

Well there was someone you’d allow to shine brighter. Someone you’d happily let take the lead. You’d thought letting a man walk in front of you was a sign of subservience. It hadn’t ever occurred to you that there could be respect in trusting someone else to go ahead. That the act of going first could be for protection and not power.

“Hey!”

You hurried to the fire escape, “yeah?”

“There’s a man asking for you. Tall guy named Frank?”

Frank?

Oh, Frank.

You’d forgotten about him. He’d left months ago. He was a whale, rich and generous. You took a moment to consider sitting down with him, smiling and laughing at his jokes, letting his hand settle on your thigh. It had been weeks since you entertained scamming anyone, and now you couldn’t even stomach the idea of faking interest in another man. Frank wasn’t one to scam, he just liked having a pretty lady on his arm to make him feel young and wanted, and in exchange you got into private parties and were gifted jewelry and clothing.

“Tell him I’m busy and send him off.” You hollered down. You could buy your own clothes.

“Did he leave?” Alastor asked you the next morning, you leaning against the glass phone booth in the early morning light.

Your finger wrapped around the phone cord, “No of course not! They never do. I snuck out the back.”

There was a hum, “Well my dear, you’ve offered me a wonderful transition into my next question.” Alastor was sitting at his kitchen table, nervously turning his coffee cup around in circles, “Would you like to come over tomorrow night? I can pick you up after your show.”

Like a glacier drifting away from shore, you very slowly crouched down in the booth. “To your home?”

“No, to Alabama.” He waited a beat, “Yes of course my home. I can show you what happens after I drive away.” A cheeky smile evident through his voice.

You pressed the phone receiver into your chest, teeth chewing on your bottom lip. What happens when he drives away? So…where the bodies go. But most importantly, the biggest part of this—where he lives. So much can be gleaned about someone from their home. A bookshelf alone could make or break an attraction. You brought the receiver back to your mouth. “Lovely! Sure thing— Alastor. Yes.” you almost added on an awkward nickname like daddy-o or mister man, like an idiot, because your brain was misfiring like you’d seen him in the sunlight again.

Ah, you could see his bed.

Where he slept.

Did he ever dream of you?

What if it was terribly dirty? Could you still love him if he was a slob?

“I’m quite far from downtown, pack an overnight bag, okay?” He stopped fidgeting with the mug. When the call ended he sat at the table for some time, staring around the kitchen. The home was large by city standards, but it was old. His mother’s charm was evident through every part. A finger scratched at the wooden table, heavy and solid. Why was his heart racing?

He walked to the screened back door, looking from the weathered patio steps to the greenhouse.

No one had ever been to his home. Ever. A teensy part of him was panicking. Was this a mistake? Was he going to fuck up the budding relationship? Throw off the peace of his safest place?

Budding. Okay that was ridiculous even for him. The kind of intimacy gained through murder did not allow any union to be called budding. He’d shared pieces of himself no other living soul knew of. Your image of him was possibly even more complete than his own mother had held, even though he tried to always be the most sincere with her. Even people he did care for and consider close friends had never knew where he lived. Never heard what kept him up at night. Never learned his distaste for a random lay.

Opening the screen door with a signature creak, the sound many southerners could call comforting, he walked to the greenhouse.

The newest part of the property, the glass walled structure was built shortly after his mother’s death. Double doors: locked. Just beyond the glass was a forest of plants and potted trees. They had no need for a greenhouse, but Alastor had a need for them.

He set about preparing his home for another occupant, a task that brought him such a shock of joy and anxiety he began to wonder who he was. New sheets on the bed, extra pillows set against his wooden headboard. Large glass jar in the backyard full of water and tea bags.

It was also unexpected he was thinking so much of his mother. In a perfect world she’d be there to greet you. Though if she was alive, he wouldn’t have been in that alley that night. He made a mental note to not mention his mother, at least not as much as he was remembering her as he walked around the two story home tidying.

Would he have met you if he wasn’t a killer?

A flicker of fear was quickly extinguished by romance. Definitely. You both ran in the same scenes. He’d seen you before that night, he just never approached you. He hadn’t anticipated how much more you were than the facade you put on. Nothing about your sweet face said, ‘I have a high tolerance for murder.’

Alastor spent the day at work physically present but mentally pacing his living room. He nodded along to discussions of who was to be live on set next, smile never faltering as he worried if he had breakfast foods. He rarely ate breakfast, did you? How had he not thought to ask. Sloppy.

The only outward sign he was feeling any stress was the tapping of his finger on his desk, which he hadn’t even noticed until the stage manager commented.

“Alastoooor,” her voice was high, like it seemed many women’s voices were recently. Was it a trend? “Impatient? Hot date with a young lady this evening?”

While she meant well, she always pried, always asked questions he didn’t appreciate.

Alastor shook his head, smile strained. A perceptive person would have picked up on it, but Brenda was not perceptive.

“Oh.” A noticeable disappointment, “That’s boring.”

Actually on second thought maybe she didn’t mean well.

“I’ve had too much coffee, is all, Brenda.” He pulled his hand into his lap. “Was there anything you needed?”

“No,” she pouted, much less endearing than you.

If he murdered purely for fun Debra would be dead before sunset. Unfortunately her only crime was being remarkably annoying.

Alastor waited behind the theater, where it was less likely any staff would see him. It was still important to avoid connecting the two of you together, at least at your workplace yet.

He was quick to grab your bag for you.

“Not the trunk, please.” You said, it took him a second to catch the joke. He set it on the back seat after opening your door for you. You’d only been in his car a few times but he never failed to be a perfect gentleman.

Your palms were sweating, when his hand rested on your leg while he drove you resisted the urge to hold it. Instead you slipped yours under his. Alastor asked you about your day, about work, about if Frank came back. Typically as soon as you left the theater you were in a cone of silence until your phone call with him the next day. It was kind of nice, having someone to speak to. Before meeting him there were times you worried you’d forget how to talk naturally, how to sound like yourself.

The glowing eyes of deer popped up from the side of the road, startling you. Eerie. You held your breath, would they run, stay still, or sprint into the road.

“Is it true their antlers can break car windshields?” You asked not breaking eye contact with a doe as you drove past.

Alastor nodded, “If a buck hits your car the wrong way, not even the car will make it out of the accident.”

“Are there a lot of bucks around?”

“Will be soon, as fall— wait why am I telling you this,” he laughed, “Miss Autumn Hind already knows what makes the bucks run wild.”

You shouldn’t be smiling, it was a dumb rut joke, but it felt like a compliment.

The car lights passed over the home as he turned into the dirt driveway. Powder blue. It wasn’t a color you associated with Alastor. He was caramel, honey, midnight blue, red. His sometimes sinister smile didn’t look quite right against powder blue. But, for a home, it was lovely.

“Is someone home?” You saw a light on in an upstairs room.

Alastor reached behind you for your bag, “No, I leave it on when I’m gone. Gives the impression that the house isn’t empty.”

A minor bit of acting, Alastor opening the door and offering to bring your bag upstairs before a tour like a good host. His anxious energy was barely contained by that grin of his. For your part you played the appropriately impressed guest.

But deep down you were very impressed. An actual house. Your mother struggled to keep apartments rented. Alastor had a home. With stairs. That went to more home, not a neighbor. What a lovely thing. What did he do with all this space?

He could probably hide quite a few bodies in there.

Alastor opened his bedroom door and motioned for you to enter.

You took in every detail as shrewdly as you could. Two circular nightstands, a wide dresser with a few framed photos and a radio. One large window facing the yard, you could see the car outside from where you were standing. “Wow a man’s bedroom. I tend to avoid these.”

“What a coincidence, so do I. Bedrooms in general, really.” He placed your bag on the dresser, offering to unpack it for you. Your smile screwed up, shaking your head no. You couldn’t imagine Alastor folding your panties and setting them into a drawer.

Well.

“Yes please.” You took a seat on the end of his bed, watching him tenderly empty the bag before beginning to put things away like you’d come home from a trip. “A bed big enough for two people. You didn’t tell me you were a fancy man. Ooh la la.”

Alastor laughed, “Your bed was quite comfortable.” He set your dress onto a hook attached to the closet door, hands running down the fabric to straighten out the wrinkles, “But I have a feeling that had more to do with you than anything else.”

The floor was clean, the rug beneath the bed a simple but pristine white. What an odd color for a rug.

You truly did avoid men’s homes. The power dynamic shifts too much.

“Are all men so clean?”

“Oh god no. Have you really never been to a man’s home?” Without a moment of hesitancy his long fingers flattened out your underthings and neatly folded them. You could call it erotic, knowing what else his fingers could do.

A hum, you swayed side to side, “Too much risk. I don’t know where the knife drawer is, which locks stick, what windows open all the way.”

He set the empty bag into a reading chair in the corner, “That sounds stressful.”

You shrugged, “My mother taught me to always have an escape. From situations, from rooms, from people. Not terrible advice.”

That was true, he thought. If the few women he killed had considered that, he would be less prolific. Women tended to be easier in some regards.

Alastor finally let himself look at you sitting on his bed. Were you wearing the black garters today? He liked those. He appreciated the red dress you’d worn.

Taking off his jacket and vest, he hung them up while his eyes kept returning to you. Your legs were crossed, thighs soft and pressed together. He remembered feeling them against his ears. A little cough to clear his throat and mind.

“Are you hungry?”

You werent, but you weren’t ready for sleep either, so you asked for some bread and butter. Alastor sat beside you at the table, watching you look around. It didn’t look like a killer's home.

“Ya know, I was going to rob you. I had been wanting to talk to you, before that guy caught me off guard when I was smoking.” You said it easily.

He smiled, “Oh, why’d you change your mind?”

“Well, you slit a man’s throat in front of me.”

“Tsk tsk, you give up too easily, my dear.”

Salted butter, soft bread. Simple. Happy. “You were so handsome-,”

“We’re?”

A snort of a laugh, rolling your eyes dramatically, “and you looked well off. I was searching the room for the lights reflecting off of your glasses all night.”

Alastor grimaced, fighting the well of his ego, and leaned on his elbows, “Is it too morbid to say I’m glad that man tried to kill you? I like this timeline more than being robbed and never seeing you again.”

“That’s very selfish. I would have enjoyed chasing you down and finessing your wallet off you.” You set the glass lid back over the butter dish, content with the snack. “Some men come back actually and confront me at the theater.”

He howled. The idea was ridiculous, “Seriously? Why not just tell the cops.”

“Men don’t like telling other men they got taken for a ride by a dame.”

Alastor stood, “What would you have done if you had robbed me and I marched into the theater demanding my cash back.” It took a second to realize he was being serious in wanting you to play along.

You popped the last piece of bread into your mouth and stood too, “You rake!” A fake smack to his chest, “I booted you to the curb! You had more hands than an octopus!”

Alastor tried to stay in character but his smile kept cracking through his serious face. “And my wallet? None of my hands can find it.” You took a few steps back, feigning shock at the accusation.

“Sir! You were so drunk I’m not surprised you lost it.” When Alastor closed the space between you with two wide steps and pulled you into his chest you giggled, hitting softly at him, “You should be ashamed of yourself. Trying to take advantage,” his hands wandered down your hips, making your voice catch in your throat, “of a good woman like me.”

His mouth came to your ear, “Well, miss, I think you owe me the opportunity to try again.”

You went stiff against him, the sudden turn of his voice into seduction taking you by surprise, “If you were a real mark, I’d punch you in the face for saying that.”

“But for me?” Breath against your neck.

Your hands slid up his chest and to his collar, pulling him down and into a kiss. His smile spread across your lips.

His mouth stayed against your cheek as he pulled you into a hug, “Ready for bed?”

“Are you sleepy, hun?” You pulled away, a sincerely worried face. Two nights now you’d interrupted his normal routine.

Alastor’s eyes seemed to sparkle behind his glasses, head shaking, “No, not at all.” You felt the heat rise up your face. Wanting to avoid assumptions, you tried to temper your expectations.

His hand pulled you toward the stairs, you dragging your feet, “Did you want to show me around?”

“In the daylight.” He led you up the stairs and to the right.

“Oh okay….”, your mind was reeling, mouth dry. No dead body in sight. No blood. You hadn’t pressed him or asked for anything. Maybe he just wanted a good cuddle, or some kisses. You often enjoyed necking near the car before he would go home. Right. Let him lead.

You followed him, letting him guide you hand in hand back to his bedroom.

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

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🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

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#human alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel alastor #human alastor #alastor smut #alastor x you

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01zfan · 2 days

Text

anything 4 u | j. sc

brothers bestfriend!sungchan x fem. reader | 9k words

loosely inspired by “anything 4 u” by lany. this damn near killed me to write omfg.

contains: arguing, double standards, a little possessive? on both sides, sungchan and the reader are both a little mean. unprotected sex.

before you came into the world as shotaro’s little sister, sungchan was his bestfriend. they were friends before they could walk, gravitating towards one another even as crawling babies. sungchan was shotaro’s first sibling, crossing the threshold of being his bestfriend in such a short amount of time. shotaro was the closest thing sungchan would ever have to a sibling, he was the only child in his house.

“can you stop messing with her, sungchan?”

when you joined the mix, sungchan wasn’t on board. he discovered jealousy as a toddler, having to share shotaro’s attention with his new little sister. he didn’t understand what was so interesting about you, why shotaro wanted to spend all of his time watching you be an annoying baby instead of playing outside. sungchan would complain when his bestfriend would drop everything to go to you when you’d cry. sungchan would complain when they couldn’t play rough with you or that you couldn’t play video games. sungchan would go over to shotaro’s house only to find out he was going to be the plus one at your princess tea parties.

sungchan let his jealousy turn to teasing and he became the first and only person to get away with it. shotaro only watched your interactions and laugh, knowing you’d get him back tenfold. by the time both of you were preteens, you and sungchan had built a relationship that bordered bullying. you always made sure to come out on top, only having to tell shotaro that sungchan was bothering you so he could collect his friend.

when you two first became teens, sungchan found himself seeing you in a different light. the teasing had started to become forced on sungchan’s part in an effort to hide his emotions. he was able to convince himself that it was normal to feel that way about you from the proximity of being together and how familiar your personality was. but when sungchan was around you he forgot his words and only received your teases instead of dishing them out the way he used to.

by the time sungchan was about to go off to college, he had started to become protective of you. he tried to make his protectiveness logical, blaming it on the fact that he would be going to school away from his bestfriend, like he was compensating for the future knowing he’d be so far away from his friend. sungchan also blamed it on the fact that no one else seemed to notice you were always texting someone on your phone and you coming to the house late at night. sungchan was basically forced took to bare the burden of being your protector and to stop you from making bad decisions.

when you found out sungchan was no longer the immature boy who pulled your pigtails or stole your toys, you found yourself coming to him more. he was able to give you unbiased opinions, and you could tell him about the crushes or failed relationships that broke your hear. he was a familiar face in your life, one you didn’t mind spilling your heart out to. sungchan had found you a couple times crying your eyes out over something unimportant. sungchan followed the sound of your gentle sobs when you thought you were alone, slowly opening your door telling you everything was going to be okay. each time he was comforting and nonjudgemental, letting you get it all out before helping you find a solution.

the relationship you had with sungchan turned into something strange. you found yourself telling him things you could never tell shotaro or anyone you saw as a brotherly figure. at the same time sungchan didn’t feel like just a friend. there was something more when it came to sungchan, something you tried to ignore. you combated the turbulent emotions it by telling sungchan about all your newest romantic endeavors, hoping that it would make you only see him as a friend.

sungchan found out quickly he couldn’t be someone you came to in relation to boys. you had shown sungchan one too many photos of your direct messages, filled with non-deserving boys trying to get with you. the messages all began the same, all of them acting ignorant to the fact that you were shotaro’s sister, or that sungchan was always near you. too many of the faces and named were familiar, some of them even running in the same social circles as sungchan and shotaro. seeing the messages made his blood boil, causing him to accidentally tell shotaro something he wasn’t supposed to know about.

shotaro was surprisingly calm about the situation. sungchan saw his friend be the calmest he’s ever seen when it came to protecting you. shotaro only tilted his head slightly while asking extremely specific questions. sungchan answered calmly, suddenly embarrassed that he seemed more angry about you seeing guys than your overprotective brother was. when sungchan was done answering shotaro’s questions everything was back to normal. the two continued playing basketball like nothing had happened.

sungchan had almost forgotten what he told shotaro until you came home the next day. the two were playing a game when you stomped through the house screaming their names. sungchan was wide-eyed and shocked, but shotaro was completely calm as he continued to play.

“up here.” shotaro said casually.

sungchan could hear each stomp up the stairs. sungchan had stopped playing, only focused on shotaro’s closed door that he was sure you was going to break down soon.

you came through the door so fast the door hit the wall and recoiled back. shotaro only looked up after he killed sungchan’s character in the fighting game, looking at his door that slammed against the wall.

“mom is gonna kill you.” shotaro said evenly.

“i’m going to kill you!” your wild eyes locked on sungchan’s, and you brought a finger up to point at him. “then i’m going to kill you!” you yelled.

that’s when shotaro got upset and leapt to his friend’s defense. when shotaro stood up and started yelling back at you sungchan was frozen on the bed with his head on a swivel watching the screaming match in front of him. sungchan had no siblings, so he could never understand how you two were going at it so viciously or loudly. what sungchan understood was to keep his mouth shut as you two went at it. he knew better than to interject and become the new target both of you focused on.

so sungchan held his tongue, even when he knew shotaro was acting irrationally. he could tell you knew your brother was being ridiculous by the way you let out a deep breath and pinched the bridge of your nose. before you could argue back sungchan saw you give shotaro a simple smile and a head tilt. it was the same expression shotaro gave sungchan when digging for information about your date.

you said nothing else to shotaro or sungchan. you turned around and left, slamming your door behind you. sungchan looked around shotaro’s room to see his pictures on the wall shake. only a moment passed before shotaro went back to the game like nothing happened. sungchan had to act he didn’t just witness the most brutal screaming match he’s ever seen in his life. sungchan only continued playing on the game with his friend, subtlety trying to sneak looks to your closed bedroom door to see if you would come out.

“she’s going to act out like crazy now.” shotaro said.

sungchan had to pull his attention away from your door to his friend. shotaro tried to remain calm, but he could see his friend was visibly bothered. when the round of fighting was over, shotaro turned off the game and rubbed his temples from the stress.

“you know her top pick for college is the place you’re going to?” shotaro asked.

sungchan was the first one you told when you got accepted.

“i had no idea.” sungchan said, shaking his head.

“can you look out for her when she goes there? just until she finds a group of friends?” shotaro asks.

sungchan knew he should’ve said no. you already had friends and you were going to be an adult soon. sungchan had also promised himself that he would stop doting after you when he would leave for college. the distance would do him some good, maybe he’d finally be able to calm his heart when you came around. you were more than capable of making your own decisions, both sungchan and shotaro knew that. but when shotaro looked to sungchan and told him he’s the only person he could trust, sungchan couldn’t say no.

so when you came to campus a year after sungchan, he did what his friend asked him to. he looked out for you and kept tabs on you through mutual friends. sungchan even found himself at the frat parties you would be at on friday nights under the guise of seeing his friends. he wouldn’t drink, knowing that it would be him guiding you and your drunk friends back to the dorms. he had become your confidant, the incident from highschool long forgotten. you knew now sungchan was looking out for your best interest—the man you were going to see that night wasn’t a good person.

once sungchan found out he was in your good graces again he was wrapped around your finger. he followed you around campus, making sure you got to your classes before he even thought about going to his. he was there for you the moment you called for him, and he found himself taking you anywhere you asked. sungchan put his car to good use, taking you to the store or to pick up food for you. sungchan was able to find an excuse for doting on you, telling himself that it was because he had to look out for you after shotaro asked.

he only told your brother the good things. you were doing great in school, and you had found a good group of friends. sungchan never dared to tell shotaro that you went to parties in cropped shirts and even shorter skirts, that you were seeing boys, or that he was slowly developing feelings for you.

sungchan was determined to play the long game with you. he never made the first move, never even expected you to reciprocate his feelings. sungchan was happy to just be your guardian angel at the frat parties you frequented, or the person you could come to with your problems. sungchan saw himself as such a constant in your life that you didn’t notice his developing feelings. how were you supposed to know he was doting on you when you’ve been doted on your whole life?

it wasn’t until he laid on the floor of your dorm with you that he couldn’t take it anymore. you were in the middle of telling him about your most recent conquest, some random guy who was your partner for an upcoming project. sungchan sat up suddenly, not looking down at you laying next to him as he spoke.

“i don’t think it’s appropriate for you to tell me about the men you’re seeing anymore.” sungchan said.

you sat up too, not used to sungchan putting his foot down or him telling you no.

“why not?” you seemed to think for a second before your mind started filling in the gaps of sungchan’s silence. “did you talk to my brother?” you asked.

he defended himself quickly, shaking his head to show you he was being honest. you visibly calmed down before asking your question again.

“i mean i talk to your brother everyday, but not about who you’re seeing.” sungchan said.

sungchan pulled in a deep breath and let it out. he came clean then and there on the floor of your dorm room. he told you about how shotaro asked him to watch after you when you came to campus and how he enjoyed taking care of you a little too much.

before sungchan could confess his feelings, you did it first. you pulled sungchan in for a big kiss, throwing all of your body weight onto him. he caught you and held you, reciprocating your kisses and smiling when you pulled away. it was wordless your confession, everything communicated through smiles and shining eyes.

from that point on you and sungchan have been in a relationship. everything was the same as usual, except you didn’t go to parties as much and sungchan talked to shotaro a little less. sungchan found it extremely hard to talk to your brother about your life with you in the room. that’s why sungchan was on the phone with his bestfriend now, trying to smack away your teasing and persistent hands that messed with the buttons on his flannel.

“just say you’re busy.” you whisper.

you make sure to say it close enough to the speaker that forces sungchan to crane his body away from you.

“sorry taro i was watching a show. what did you say?” sungchan smiles when he talks to shotaro but turns away from his phone to give you a stern look.

you hold up your hands defensively like you’re doing nothing. when sungchan’s attention goes back to his phone you go back to messing with him, pulling at the end of his flannel and leaning in to kiss his neck.

“one second let me pause the show.” sungchan puts his hand over the speaker of his phone and looks at you. “stop it.” he commands.

sungchan’s eyes are large and indignant, trying to get you to listen to him. you try to take sungchan seriously for his sake but you can’t stop yourself from smiling. sungchan trying to boss you around is when you find him the funniest. your smile only grows when sungchan grips both of your wrists with one hand. even as he holds both of your wrists to keep you away from his body he doesn’t use much strength. it’s all for show, both of you know sungchan would crumble to you immediately if you asked. but you humor him, sitting patiently on his lap while he continues talking on the phone.

sungchan eyes you, still holding your wrists as he listens to shotaro.

“you need me to pick her up?” sungchan looks at you, trying hard to pretend like you’re not in the room.

“that fancy italian place? no i haven’t been.” sungchan looks at you again when you make a tiny ooh sound. “i don’t know if she’s been shotaro. how am i supposed to know that?” sungchan says.

“okay. we will meet you there at 6:30.” when sungchan sees you shake your head he stops shotaro mid sentence. “actually does 7:30—” sungchan checks your expression and when you give him a thumbs up he nods his head. “does 7:30 work instead?” he asks.

you still sit on sungchan’s lap, messing with the bottom of his flannel as he gets confirmation from shotaro.

“okay. see you then.”

when sungchan hangs up his phone you let your hands go underneath his shirt. he lets out a sigh of relief from being off the phone while you draw your breath in. sungchan is solid underneath your fingers, and so warm you find yourself wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

your chest is pressed against sungchan’s when he brings his arms around you too. he kisses the top of your forehead, letting a sigh slip from his lips again.

“we almost got caught.” sungchan says quietly.

“no we didn’t.” you say

you were the complete opposite to sungchan in regards to shotaro. sungchan didn’t know how you weren’t constantly panicking at the thought of shotaro finding out. sungchan knew shotaro well, and he knew that he did not play when it came to you. sungchan’s stomach dropped at the thought of shotaro finding out about the two of you. the betrayal and anger that would cross shotaro’s face winded sungchan. he couldn’t stop thinking about every single terrible outcome possible as the two of you got ready to meet shotaro for dinner. sungchan found himself not saying a word the entire car ride to the restaurant, mentally practicing how he was going to talk to you with your brother around. sungchan put his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching for your hand, and he walked in front of you to stop his mind from subconsciously trailing close behind you.

when you and sungchan met shotaro in front of the restaurant, shotaro went to hug you first. whatever playful teasing was happening was lost on sungchan, he was too busy overthinking how close he might’ve been to you. he looked at your hand twitch in between the space of your two bodies. he casually moved, afraid that you were going to grab his hand in front of shotaro. he felt the side eye from you and the confused look on shotaro’s face before he brought sungchan in for a hug.

sungchan was so focused on trying to remain as neutral as possible that the night went by him in a blur. you filled in the silence or the awkward gaps in the conversation that were a result of sungchan not listening. he was grateful for your easygoing personality, but sungchan found himself tipping his head occasionally at you, surprised you weren’t nearly as effected as he was. you were the same version of yourself, no pauses in your words or shrugging your shoulders in confusion. the only reprieve sungchan got from conversation was when the food arrived.

“i hope you guys enjoy the food.” sungchan watched the waitress smile to you and shotaro, both of you nodding your heads the same way. when the waitress got to sungchan she put a hand on his shoulder and pointed at the food on his dish. sungchan’s eyes snapped up to hers as she pointed at the plate. “i put a little extra on your plate for you.” she said, smiling at sungchan.

before sungchan could say anything the waitress was gone. he was left with the with an extra serving of food on his plate with you and your brother staring at him. shotaro had a facetious smile on his face as he continued eating his food—you looked at sungchan with wide eyes and a straight face. he couldn’t stop his face from feeling hot, trying to play off the very obvious flirting.

“she must’ve seen how tall i am.” sungchan laughed nervously, trying to find a reason for the extra food.

“oh she must’ve.” you scoffed.

shotaro didn’t pick up on the nuance in your voice, how annoyed you sounded. he only laughed, focusing on the attention that sungchan was getting.

“you’re all red in the face.” shotaro teased.

“no i’m not.” sungchan said back.

sungchan felt like his face was on fire as he could see you progressively get more and more upset. sungchan silently wished for his friend to be quiet, to stop digging sungchan into a hole he couldn’t get out of. the more shotaro talked the more annoyed you became, by the time the waitress came back with the check you were clenching your jaw, wordlessly pushing food around on your plate with your fork. even when the conversation shifted to sungchan catching up with shotaro, you were completely silent. sungchan wordlessly took the initiative to fill in the gaps in the conversation with questions about shotaro’s studies, or how he was adjusting to being away from home. you barely contributed to the conversation, never reacting to sungchan’s quick glances to you when shotaro was occupied with his food.

you knew that sungchan could tell you were pissed off. the way he would shake his head profusely anytime shotaro brought up the waitress made you blood boil and when he stole quick glances you felt like rolling your eyes. you couldn’t stop thinking about the waitress and the way her eyes lingered, or how she gave sungchan nearly double his serving of food. everything was too obvious, right in sungchan’s face and he actively denied it. he was denying everything for your sake, but you had eyes of your own to see the scene laid out in front of you. you never considered yourself to be the possessive type—you never had to be. arguably the only positive effect of being spoiled was that you never had to greedy or clinging—you never had demand for something if it was handed to you without having to say a word.

but you had a mean streak when it came to sungchan. he knew it too. he knew that you never had something not go your way. he knew you always got what “rightfully” belonged to you and never settled for anything less. but here sungchan was, blushing and shaking his head bashfully while a waitress blatantly flirted with him in front of you. a voice in the back of your mind that you’ve never heard whispered to you that sungchan liked the attention. the thought made bile brew in your stomach and the anger almost pushed you to stab your fork through the plate in front of you.

“i think we should get the check.” sungchan looked at you pushing food across your plate, a majority of it was untouched. he could see your jaw clenching and he could feel your legs becoming restless underneath the table. “it’s getting kinda late. i have a class early in the morning.” sungchan says to shotaro.

sungchan almost feels bad seeing the confusion flash across shotaro’s face, but he knows it’s time to go. sungchan was unsure how much time he had left in this restaurant before the hole he accidentally dug himself into was too deep. shotaro understood, motioning for the check to the waitress. sungchan ducked his head when he felt her gaze on him. unfortunately for sungchan you saw it all, following the waitresses line of sight straight to the side of his head.

sungchan couldn’t bring himself to meet your gaze while the check came. he focused solely on shotaro, head resting on top of his clasped hands as his own legs started becoming restless. when the waitress placed the check between shotaro and sungchan, sungchan failed at snatching the paper before shotaro could. his eyes glossed over the prices of the dishes, instead focusing on the tiny note written at the bottom. shotaro elbowed sungchan playfully, and sungchan tried to telepathically get shotaro to not say anything else.

“sungchan, she left her name and number on the receipt for you.” shotaro whispered to sungchan.

shotaro was amused by the sight, showing the paper to sungchan. before shotaro could show the receipt to you sungchan quickly snatched it from his hands. shotaro let out a small sound of surprise, raising his eyebrows comically when sungchan shook his head.

“she handed the receipt to you, so it must’ve been for you.” sungchan said quickly.

shotaro shook his head and you were so close to losing it you smiled and laughed to yourself briefly. never in your life would you have thought you’d be in this situation. you felt insane and sungchan quickly put his card in the folder to pay. he pulled out cash to tip instead, too afraid to take the pen to the paper.

“she was definitely flirting with you.” shotaro said when the waitress circled back around to collect the form of payment. “i mean look at how much food she gave you.” shotaro continues.

“it wasn’t very good though,” sungchan looks to you legs crossed in the seat, eyes wandering around the dining area apathetically. “right?” sungchan asks you.

you only shrug your shoulders, letting out a sigh as you scratch at your scalp. sungchan turns to your brother, not reacting to your extremely obvious annoyance. shotaro only focuses on sungchan, side-eyeing him when the waitress comes back. when sungchan sees you looking away he puts up his hands frantically motioning him to stop. when you look back to sungchan, shotaro gives him an extremely obvious wink. sungchan sighs and puts his reddening face in his hands.

“hope to see you guys again!” the waitress calls after the three of you while you walk to the door.

“you will!” shotaro says playfully.

sungchan continues to walk, speeding up to try to make it to the door of the restaurant before you can. before sungchan can open the door for you, another man beats him to it. the biggest smile you’ve had all day adorns your face, and your eyes do a quick look up and down of the man holding the door open as sungchan stands directly behind you.

“thank you.” you say.

your voice is saccharine, and your eyes invite the man to look you up and down the same way. the man doesn’t spare sungchan a glance as your face takes up the lens of his sunglasses.

“you’re welcome.” the man says back.

the moment is quick, flying past shotaro as he falls behind sungchan. however sungchan freezes in front of the door then and there, replaying the moment in his mind. the candied looks and the complete turn in your mood at the drop of a hat. the honeyed look the man got is nothing like the glares sungchan got all night, and the sweet demeanor is nothing like the closed off girl that stands in front of the restaurant looking back at sungchan in annoyance. shotaro bumps into sungchan, complaining about him stopping the flow of traffic. sungchan ignores his friend, letting the quick burst of jealousy fire off in his brain. it intensifies and mellows out at the same time as sungchan clenches his fists, following shotaro as he brings you in fro a hug.

sungchan can still see the unmistakable sour look on your face soften for the second time, your previously crossed arms open to hug shotaro back. the straps of your purse are still caught in your white knuckle grip, and you purposely avoid looking at sungchan as shotaro sways you back and forth. sungchan turns his head to face the night breeze, maybe the calm weather could calm him down.

“what are your plans for the rest of the night?” shotaro asks.

sungchan looks to you as you answer the question. he can see the gears in your mind turn, and he swears he can see the smallest smile flash across your face before your lips turn to a pout.

“i’m tired. i wanna to go back to campus.” you complain.

“what’s wrong?” shotaro stops in the middle of the parking lot, putting his hand to your forehead to check for your temperature. “are you feeling sick?”

sungchan has to remain benevolent, acting like he doesn’t feel your piercing gaze as look directly at him.

“i’m feeling very sick.” you put your hand over your stomach. “like i might throw up, actually.” you say.

shotaro is instantly worried, asking about food poisoning and asking you if anything tasted bad. sungchan looks at you making a scene in front of your brother, indirectly complaining about something sungchan couldn’t control. sungchan was able to be calm and levelheaded when it came to you, but sometimes your spoiled attitude cut through the patience. the way you looked to your brother with fake pain made sungchan scoff out loud.

“dramatic.” sungchan said under his breath.

you smiled to yourself when shotaro snapped his head to face sungchan.

“look who’s talking.” you sneer.

sungchan felt like he was a kid again, rolling his eyes and stomping his feet at shotaro babying you. maybe sungchan was jealous that he couldn’t be the one doting after you, holding your purse in one hand while checking your temperature with the other. but he put himself in the position of being only your brothers annoyed bestfriend, so he was going to act like it.

shotaro played his role well too, stopping the two of you before you could start bickering. shotaro looked between the two of you, stern as he told sungchan to take you back to campus. sungchan fake protested—all three of you knew it was just for show. sungchan only crossed his arms across his chest before nodding his head silently. shotaro smiled and pinched his sungchan’s cheek, talking about how good of a friend he is.

“i gotta start driving back now before it gets too late.” shotaro says.

he hugs both you and sungchan, hoping that you feel better after a long rest. sungchan has to convince shotaro you’ll be alright, going the extra step to say he’ll pick you up medicine from the store if you still feel sick. shotaro thanks his friend before pulling him in for another hug. you two walk shotaro to his car to send him off.

“drive safe.” you say to shotaro.

“text me when you get home!” sungchan tells shotaro before he shuts the door.

both you and sungchan wave shotaro off as he backs out of the parking spot. you continue to wave, even long after his car disappears down the road.

almost immediately, sungchan tries to put a cautious arm around you. you look up at sungchan with your meanest look, shrugging his hand off your body as you start walking towards his car.

you can hear sungchan sigh as he starts to follow behind you, still keeping a hand close to your back incase you stumble in your heels. you looked uncomfortable in them the whole night. if you would’ve let sungchan he would’ve gladly picked you up and carried you to the car. he still opens the door for you despite you trying to beat him to it, and you have to pull the seatbelt from sungchan’s hands to stop him from buckling you in.

when sungchan gets in the car and puts the key in the ignition, neither of you say a word. you hope that sungchan doesn’t speak before you have the chance to calm yourself down. you close your eyes, to try and muster up the last bit of understanding in your body to not snap at your boyfriend. when you close your eyes all you can see is the waitress, how she flirted with sungchan and he did nothing to stop it.

when sungchan doesn’t pull out of the parking spot you open your eyes. when you hear him pull his keys from the ignition you start to get irritated. when sungchan clears his throat, you practically have smoke coming from your ears.

“it’s not my fault a girl flirts with me.” sungchan says.

your eyes widen, indignation across your face.

“it actually is your fault.” you say.

now it’s sungchan’s turn to look upset, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you confused.

“what did you want me to do?” sungchan asks.

“maybe not pretend like you don’t notice? she was practically fucking you in front of me.” your voice starts bouncing off of the walls in the car.

sungchan’s eyes go wide and he laughs in shock, mouth open in amusement at your dramatics.

“you know you’re being ridiculous.” sungchan laughs.

hearing sungchan call you ridiculous makes the remaining bits of your patience crumble. before you know it you’re pointing an accusatory finger in sungchan’s face, your manicured nail almost poking his nose.

“you’re the one that won’t even tell my brother we’re dating!” you yell.

“he’s my bestfriend!” sungchan says, raising his hands in defense.

“but you’re my boyfriend!” you draw your hand back,fingers flat agaisnt your palm as you feel the car heating up. “what if i flirted with a waiter or went out with the guys shotaro has tried to hook me up with?”

you point is proven when sungchan has a visible reaction. he can’t help it, the way his eyes close and his mouth dips in disgust. he didn’t even realize he reacted until you pointed your whole hand at him.

“so that’s what’s ridiculous.” you say.

when sungchan says nothing back, your anger starts dipping. it turns into defeat, and the adrenaline leaving your body at such a fast rate causes you to you lean against your seat. you’re defeated, between the dinner and your unregulated emotions getting the best of you, you’re suddenly exhausted. you only lean your head against the window, staring outside as you feel the stone forming in your throat.

“just take me home, sungchan.” you say quietly.

he hears you clearly, putting his keys back in the ignition before silently pulling out of the parking lot.

the drive back home is silent. songs play from the speakers of sungchan’s car, many of them are songs that remind him of you. he feels sick seeing you upset, leaning your head against the window not saying a word to him. you won’t even look at him, your eyes trained on passing building and stoplights. sungchan almost wishes that you’d yell at him, that you would let it all out. but he only continues to drive, the hand that would usually be on your thigh grips the steering wheel hard.

the closer sungchan got to campus, the more he felt that sinking feeling in his stomach. his mind went to the worst possibilities—you calling it off or making him choose between you and shotaro. when sungchan pulled in his reserved parking spot, he felt like he was going to be sick himself.

sungchan didn’t know that the sick feeling in your stomach dissipated a long time ago. the migraine you got from your frustrations melted and traveled to your stomach, making your whole body feel warm. you didn’t know what to do with the jealousy and the possessiveness you felt for the first time tonight. when you noticed the empty spaces in the parking lot of students that went home for the break your mind started to wander. the feeling in your stomach turned to something that churned and pulled you towards sungchan when you noticed the deep tint of his windows.

sungchan was too busy turning the engine off, trying to figure out how to get you to speak to him. he turned his key, hand still on the ignition as he turned to you.

“and what about you,” sungchan looks over to you. “treating shotaro like an attack dog still after all these years.” he says.

sungchan watches you take in his words through one ear just for them to fall out of the other. you’re spoiled and can never admit when you’re wrong. it’s shotaro’s doing but sungchan is no better, your attitude comes from years of everyone around you giving you what you want. sungchan remains steadfast, refusing to back down to your irrational anger. but he doesn’t see the anger in your eyes when you look to him. he sees a playful glint, and he feels your eyes look him up and down. sungchan subconsciously straightens his posture, letting silence fill the car again.

you mess with the locks on sungchan’s door, slowly switching back and forth. the sound makes sungchan feel uneasy, how slow and constant it is as you very clearly think about something. he remains still in the drivers seat, trying to not falter. sungchan only lasts a second before looking back to you and clearing his throat.

“you’re really just not going to say anything?” sungchan asks.

sungchan feels the hair on the back of his neck raise when he sees the smile on your lips.

“get in the backseat.” you said from your spot.

sungchan remains still, looking to you in disbelief. at a time like this, in the middle of a fight in the student parking.

“we need to talk about this.” he says.

sungchan believes that he still has authority. he can be mean when he has to be. although sungchan’s sternness is fleeting he believes that he can channel it when necessary. but the way you look at him with glossy puppy eyes reminds him why you’re so so spoiled

“can’t we talk in the backseat?” you pout.

sungchan wasted no time, barely looking at the mostly empty parking lot surrounding him as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. he pulled on the backdoor handle twice impatiently, waiting for his car to automatically unlock.

when his car finally decided to listen, he clambered into the backseat, laying across the cushions like he has so many times before. when your relationship was new and your roommates were nosy, the only option you guys had was the backseat of his car. what was awkward at first turned to second nature, and then it became a rarity when sungchan got his own place. but now here he was, shirtless waiting for you in the backseat while you stayed in the front. sungchan looked to you, already feeling an ache in his pants from the anticipation and tension from the night.

“babe?” sungchan called out.

you moved in the front seat, causing the car to slightly shake. sungchan was filled to the brim with excitement, reaching for the button on his pants to push his jeans down. sungchan saw your pretty manicured hand—paid by him—reach to to the backseat. your panties hung by the end of your nail, dangling in the space by sungchan’s face. before they could fall to the floor he grabbed it a little too quickly, balling it up in his hand and bringing it to his face. although he couldn’t see you he could hear you scoff and say some degrading word that made him twitch in his pants.

sungchan wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was nasty when it came to you. he liked licking his cum off your body to clean you up. he liked pulling you up after you sucked on his dick and tasting himself on his lips. he liked making a mess of you when you were together, and he liked stealing your panties when you weren’t looking to hide them for himself. he liked smelling you after a long day after work, taking in big huffs of you as you bashfully hit his shoulders. he liked rutting his dick pathetically against your body. he liked doing those things because when he did it you’d look at him with that almost disgusted glint in your eye and call him a freak. he wore it like a badge of honor. he was a freak for you and you alone—your freak. so when he heard his title fall from your lips, all he could do was nod his head. you finally came into his view, body hunched as you made your way over the center console.

sungchan reached his hands out to help you, one hand still holding your balled up panties. you declined his help, sitting on the other side of the car.

“are you going to keep those for yourself?” you mocked.

sungchan nodded, realizing he couldn’t see the look in your eyes well enough. he stretched to turn on the light in the backseat, illuminating the space. he could see your foot propped on the seat while the other was planted on the floor. your legs being spread gave sungchan an almost clear view of your cunt, only obstructed by the fabric of your dress fell down between your legs. sungchan squeezed your panties in his hand while licking his lips.

“come over here princess.” sungchan said.

sungchan settled against the door and spread his legs, trying to look as inviting to you as possible. he even went the extra mile to throw in your nickname, one that he used to tease you with until you would raising your voice at him. you thought about it, eye raking down his body before you shook your head.

“i don’t think you deserve it.” you say simply.

you shrug, your hands starting at your knees working their way up. sungchan clenches his hands at his side, seeing you tease yourself the same way he always does. when you reach the ends of your dress you teasingly lift them up, giving sungchan a quick peak of you. when he reaches forward to touch your inner thigh you smack his hand. sungchan recoils, going back to leaning against the door.

“what’s gotten into you?” sungchan said.

you always had the habit of bossing sungchan around, it’s been there since you both were young. but more often than not the one time you were pliant in taking whatever sungchan wanted to give you in the bedroom. the two of you came to the agreement that sungchan was more than capable of taking care of the both of you, because his pleasure was dependent on yours. he liked seeing you get weak underneath him and he liked having to take you the rest of the way when your legs failed you while riding him.

but this was different.

you had told sungchan so many times breathlessly that you liked when he grabbed you, you liked seeing how you seemed to fit perfectly in the palm of his hand, even if your flesh spilled out between his fingers. sungchan has seen your eyes screw shut from pleasure at from touches that were light as a feather. so sungchan had no idea why you were denying yourself the pleasure of being touched by him. he was forced to watch you sit across from him as you lifted up the bottom of your dress. you subjected him to watching you slip a small finger into your cunt, forcing him to see and hear you whine from frustration when it wasn’t enough.

“i told you that you don’t deserve it.” you added another finger, and sungchan watched you try and bend your fingers the same way he did when he was inside of you. “you don’t even act like my boyfriend.” you pouted.

sungchan kept his hands tucked underneath his thighs, nails digging into his skin. he shook his head like an idiot when he saw your mind try to comprehend you weren’t getting what you wanted.

“i’m your boyfriend baby, i promise.” sungchan squeezed your balled up underwear in his hand as you unskillfully fingered yourself. “touch your clit too.” sungchan said, nearly drooling.

you snapped out of your haze when sungchan tried to give you orders, narrowing your eyes at him. his eyes were immediately apologetic when he saw that you stopped fingering yourself completely, sliding out of your cunt with a shudder.

“i know how to masturbate, you fucking idiot.” you seethe.

sungchan nods quickly, biting his lip at your insult. the way your words cut through him with the airy tilt from stimulation has sungchan aching in his pants. he presses against the fabric of his underwear, he has to shift and move his jeans down his leg to allow for more space.

“i’m sorry baby. i just want to help.” he apologizes.

you go back to your show, smiling at your pliant boyfriend. the one who was so adamant about standing up for his wrong opinion was malleable before you, doing anything you wanted with just a simple look. all you had to do was press your finger to your clit and look to the button on sungchan’s jeans before he was hastily pushing them down of his legs. when you opens your legs a little wider he nearly tripped over himself to put hands on your body.

sungchan saw every part of you call to him—your chest that moved in tandem with your body, the dip of your hips that always allowed sungchan to have a perfect grip of you. even your eyes called to him, blown out with want and your cheeks begged to be touched. sungchan covered the expanse of your body in seconds, gasping and clutching at anything as you continued touching yourself. sungchan pressed wet kisses to your neck, trailing all the way up until he got to your ear. you loved when he did that, shivering with each kiss pressed to your skin.

“you’re mine right?” you whimpered.

sungchan pulled away to look you in your eyes. his hand tilted your chin and kept it in place when you tried to turn away. he saw your eyes almost gloss over when his hold on your face tightened.

“yes.” he said.

sungchan’s voice was no longer desperate, no longer apologetic or looking for approval as his other hand started trailing towards your cunt. you had taking your hand away from your core completely, one hand already holding the back of the driver seat for stability.

“you’re mine.” sungchan said.

he saw your head dumbly move up and down and your long eyelashes bat as you blinked away tears. your soft pretty hand from never working a day in your life went over sungchan’s large hand, slowly guiding him to your center. your plush lips almost mouthed please as sungchan just let his hand rest there, unmoving.

sungchan smiled in your face, reveling in the defeated look. all the anger was just a show, you were now desperate and nearly begging for what you wanted. this was nothing like the girl who had people submit to her like it was nothing.

“you really don’t know what to do when you don’t get what you want, huh?” sungchan cooed at you, tapping on your cheek as his other hand on your center didn’t move.

you nod your head before shaking it, hesitating before you see sungchan’s smile get bigger. he cups his hand around your head, and you pitch your hips forward slightly to get closer.

“you just get mad and hope for the best, don’t you?” sungchan asks.

you nod again, and you continue nodding until sungchan slips his iddle finger and ring finger into your heat. your eyes close and your hand goes to sungchan’s hand that still holds your face. he doesn’t stop pumping into your heat, looking down at your furrowed eyebrows and your wobbling legs. he slides in so easily, and he can see how pitiful you are so clearly from up here. sungchan taps your lip with his finger. you part your lips so sungchan can lick them, and you open wider so he can slip his tongue into your mouth. you whine instantly, bringing both hands to grip sungchan’s shoulders. you tilt your head to give him a better angle, even if it sacrifices your own comfort.

he picks up the pace of your fingers, just to feel how you fall behind his kisses. sungchan pulls away, purposely letting spit dribble from the corner of your lips.

“you’re so spoiled.” sungchan says amazed.

“it’s your fault. you always give me everything i want.” you say nearly breathless.

you have a small smile as you struggle to open your eyes. when you finally do, sungchan picks up the speed to wipe the knowing look off your face. you’re a mess all over again, mouth opening while pitiful high-pitched whimpers fall from your lips.

before you can tell sungchan you’re close he speaks first.

“i don’t think you deserve to cum.” he says mockingly.

instantly your eyes open, tears threatening to spill at the denial of something so sweet. sungchan only watches you in amusement, still trying to decide your fate.

“you want me to give it to you?” sungchan asks.

you nod, hands reaching down to pull at the elastic of his underwear. sungchan smiles, pulling away from you to free his dick from his pants. you pull your legs from the center console, tucking them underneath you while you wait for sungchan to give you what you want. with your underwear still balled in his hands he beckons to you, spreading out his naked body like he’s your new seat.

you close the small space quickly, pushing your face into sunghcna’s. it’s rushed, you miss a beat when he smiles against your lips at your desperation. he guides your hips to straddle his hips, and you put your hand against the fogging window as the other rests in the crook of his neck.

when you pull apart sungchan bunches your dress at your hips, exposing your lower half to him. he looks down before letting a glob of spit land on his heavy dick. it’s against his stomach, occasionally twitching upwards when you dig your nails into his skin. his hand goes to his dick, mixing the spit and precum down his shaft as lubrication. his other hand guides your hips forward until you hover above him. you pull in a gasp in anticipation.

“ready?” sungchan asks, smile on his lips.

before you can say yes, sungchan slides you down on his dick. he stretched you out, this new angle in the cramped space causes your body to seize before relaxing. sungchan hisses as he finishes sliding in. your head goes to the crook of his neck, whimpering at his pulsing dick buried deep in you. sungchan’s face is void of pity as he drags your body up to make you take him all again. you do nothing but whine and moan pitifully into sungchan’s neck, sucking on his skin to satisfy your oral fixation. sungchan takes your hand that presses against the window to pull it behind your back. lack of stability causing you to lean more into him, and takes away any attempt you could make at pulling yourself up from sungchan.

“you like it?” sungchan pulls your body up before bringing you down harder. “when i tell you that you belong to me?” sungchan whispers into your ear.

his voice is strained, holding back grunts from the way your walls squeeze around him and pull him in.

“i do.” you whine.

sungchan lets go of your hand but you keep it there, placing it on his thigh to try and hold your body up. sungchan thrusts up into you quickly at your suspended state, completely changing the pace he had set. you dig your nails into his flexed thigh as a result. he watches your chest bounce in the confines of your dress. part of him wants to rip it off of you, but a bigger part of him wants to keep you completely covered in case someone catches you two out here. sungchan refused to have too much of you exposed in public, seeing your body in all its naked glory was reserved for him and him alone.

“this pussy belongs to me.” sungchan presses his finger to your clit, and your body curls into him even further. you’re a whining mess, letting yes repeatedly fall from your lips when sungchan rubbing revolutions on your bundle of nerves. “you don't even treat her right.” he scoffs.

“please give it me sungchan.” youpull away from the crook of his neck to reveal your tear tracks, wet and shimmering down the sides of your face.

sungchan tried his best to remain mean. but seeing your glossy self-bitten lips and your wet face softened sungchan. he still snapped his hips up into you that caused your chest to jump and his car to shake, but he cooed at your pitiful face and kissed your salty tears before swiping them away with his thumb. he kissed your forehead and wrapped an arm around your back underneath your arm to bring your chest close to his.

“anything for you, baby.” he moaned quietly.

sungchan’s voice was gentle with you, but the change in the way he fucked you was not. suddenly the arm wrapped around your back pulled you up and he snaked his arm underneath your leg to hike it up. he lifted your body with small grunts to bring you down harshly, making you cry out loud. crescent moons were digging into sungchan’s skin and you could feel your nails bending from the pressure. the sound of your hips coming down on sungchan’s filled the car, mixed with moans he finally let slip from his lips. you were both getting high off of getting fucked, your walls clamped around his dick in a vice grip that had sungchan cursing your name. how could he not give you everything you wanted while you felt like this inside. you both looked down where you two met, watching sungchan disappear inside of you to hit deep in your stomach. he looked up at you, blowing a piece of hair from his line of sight.

“look at me.” sungchan grunted in between thrusts.

you listened immediately, eyes glazing over as you got close to your peak again.

“you’re gonna cum just for me?” sungchan asked.

you nodded, words fractured anytime you tried to speak.

“so close.” you stuttered.

“i can tell.” sungchan said knowingly.

“cum—” you stopped mid sentence to lean into sungchan’s chest. you looked up at him from your place on his chest and he looked down at you, eyes full of love as he watched you become more and more undown. your walls held him a little tighter when he tried lifting you. “cum inside. all yours.” you babbled.

that was all sungchan needed to hear. he pulled you down one last time, gridning his hips against yours to stimulate your clit. sungchan’s eyes looked everywhere, and felt your drool on his chest as you slapped his thigh. it was always a telltale sign for you, trying to relieve your tension. sungchan grabbed your hand to limit the movement and continued moving his hips.

you let out one final cry before arching your back against sungchan’s chest, and he held you in place. you squeezed around him over and over, milking his dick until he had no more left to give you. your wet walls still pulsed, so much that sungchan could feel his cum seeping out past his dick. you went completely limp against him, your loud cries turning into soft whimpers as your body started shaking. if sungchan touched you, you whined, and when he didn’t touch you you pressed your chest closer to his. it was a game sungchan didn’t want to win.

“i really always do give you what you want.” sungchan said.

it was a quiet revelation, one you had a long time ago back when you two were kids fighting over pointless things.

“yeah. you do.”

#requestz #01zfan: sungchan #sungchan smut #riize smut

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milswrites · 3 days

Text

The Trials of Aphrodite Part Four

~ Azriel X Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist

Series summary: Hopelessly in love with Elain, Azriel enlists your help in order to win her over. The only problem? You have been in love with Azriel for as long as you have known him.

Chapter summary: A chat with Rhysand and an unexpected encounter.

Warnings: Angst (not going to give it a level because you guys will come for me and say I'm wrong).

You should have known nothing would get past Rhysand.

Your High Lord had been alive for long enough to know when someone was sneaking around behind his back, even if it was the elusive shadowsinger.

So despite the fact the sudden appearance of the Lord of Night at your door had your palms sweating and heart beating in distress, his arrival wasn't entirely unexpected.

With a long exhale and a quick tap to your mental shields in order to make sure they're in place, you open the door, a synthetic smile working its way onto your face as you greeted your waiting friend.

"Rhys, how wonderful to see you!" you simpered, praying the male wouldn't be able to hear the irregular pounding of your fluctuating heartbeat. Rhysand provided you with his own sickly sweet smile in return, violet eyes twinkling knowingly as he began to speak, "Azriel -"

You didn't allow him the time to finish his sentence, interrupting the Lord in an attempt to draw the conversation away from your rule breaking best friend, "Az isn't here unfortunately, maybe you should try -"

It was Rhysand's turn to cut you off, the male casually raising an inquisitive brow as he did so, smirk only growing wider at your flustered manner, "The market?. . . With Elain?" you blanched at his words, "hmm quite unusual how he seems to be able to talk to her now, isn't it? You wouldn't happen to know anything about that?"

"Awh Rhys I'm hurt," you pout mockingly, holding a hand to your heart as you step aside to allow the male to enter, "Here I thought you came to see me, and yet all you want to talk about is Azriel's lousy ability to talk to females."

Rhys scoffed at your reply as you busied yourself with making tea, avoiding his pressing stare for as long as you could until your reluctant eyes finally met his own. Sighing at his persistent glare, you held your hands up in defeat, "Fine, I helped him! He practically forced my hand, what was I supposed to do?"

"He made you?" Rhysand asked unimpressed, your eyes already rolling at the lecture which was no doubt about to ensue. Yet his next words were enough for you to spit out the tea you had just consumed, "Or your feelings did?"

"This has nothing to do with that" you snapped in defense, body recoiling at Rhysand's sympathetic stare, "Az needed me Rhys, of course I had to help him."

Your friend stretched his arm across the counter, resting a heavy hand onto your own to stop the slight tremble which his words had triggered. "At the expense of your heart?" Rhysand questions, his face contorted in empathetic pain, "You don't have to do this Flower. You are your own person, there's no shame in saying no to him."

Your eyes began to water as you stared at Rhys's comforting hand, head shaking hopelessly in denial. "What kind of friend would I be?" you miserably ask, "If I can't overlook my childish feelings in order to make him happy."

"It's not your job to make him happy," Rhysand reasons, gently squeezing your hand in order to pull your saddened gaze to his own, "you being there is enough to do that."

"But I am not enough" you shout, Rhysand's arm retracting in surprise at your sudden burst of anger, "I will never be enough for him. I have offered him everything; my friendship, my happiness, my heart. And what do I have to show for it after five hundred years other than his unreciprocated feelings?"

Rhysand came to stand before you, pulling you into a crushing embrace, lips coming to your ear to whisper words of consolation as you cried into his chest. "It's ok" he promised, cupping your head to press you tighter still into his hold, "You're ok. Feelings pass, it just takes time."

"It's not just feelings Rhys" you wept into his shirt, thanking the cauldron that your tears didn't show on the dark material, "I love him."

"So why?" Rhysand asked, moving his hands to your face in order to wipe your tears and draw your eyes to his own begging ones, "Why are you doing this? Why help him?"

"Because I'm tired of loving" you confessed, hiccupping as you spoke, "I want to move on. And if moving on means I have to help him fall in love with somebody else . . ."

Your friend sighed in defeat, a wave of disgruntled understanding beginning to pool in his violet eyes. "You are so unbelievably selfless" Rhys said with a sad smile as he came to place a soft kiss against your brow.

"Are you mad at me? . . . For helping Azriel go against your orders?" you sniffled, voice wavering as you spoke. Salty tears still making their way down your cheeks. "I could never be mad at you Flower" Rhysand consoled, "I'm only disappointed that Azriel would bring you into this mess in the first place. You deserve so much more."

So you continued to cry.

And whilst you were wrapped within the loving arms of the Lord of Night, you could have sworn you had never felt more alone.

Leaving your house was a trial in itself nowadays. Having to force yourself to vacate the sanctuary of your home in order to stir some feelings inside of you that weren't just hopeless despair.

Yet you were unable to shake your loneliness as you walked through the streets of Velaris without the shadowsinger by your side. Azriel having regretfully told you that he had training to make up for with Cassian after having spent the morning alongside Elain.

So, aimlessly wandering around in a melancholic state, you opted to grab yourself a treat in the hope of lightening your mood. For that there was only one place to go, the charming little bakery which you and Azriel had discovered together many years ago.

It was a difficult decision, choosing what pastry to buy, your hungry eyes scouring over the selection until you saw something you liked. The smiling shopkeeper making polite conversation as you pondered your options. Her words bringing your thoughts back to the male you so longed to forget, "now where's that handsome friend of yours today?"

Your heart twinged at the mention of his name, smile dropping slightly as you focused your attention back onto the baked goods before you, "Oh you know, the life of the shadowsinger is a busy one."

The keeper nodded in understanding, wide grin still plastered across her lips as she spoke, "would you like to grab something for him too? On the house for such loyal customers."

You wanted to say no, to prove that Rhysand's words were true and show yourself that your life didn't revolve around Azriel. Yet the flash of his grateful smile appeared in your mind, the warm buttery feeling of the male hugging you in thanks already growing in your chest.

Yet before you even had the chance to answer the waiting lady, a hurried figure bumped into your side, spilling the contents of their steaming cup onto your shirt.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" flustered apologies flowed from the male's mouth, his hands flying to rub the newly formed coffee stain with a napkin.

You found yourself incapable of answering.

Unsure of whether it was the shock that had stunned you into silence, or the dark ruffled hair and deep hazel eyes of the mysterious stranger. Unfussed by your lack of response, the male continued to ramble, "gods I'm so stupid, I should have watched where I was going. I'll buy you a new top I promise."

Stirring to your senses, you grabbed the male's hands to stop his hastily-done cleaning, allowing a reassuring smile to grace your lips as you promised him it was alright, "Don't worry, I was wondering what this top would look like with coffee all over it."

He barked out a laugh, lifting a hand to muss his short black hair, "I suppose I can only be grateful for running into someone as wonderfully forgiving as you."

It were as if he had you under a spell, his sharp jaw and strong features working to draw you in. "If you wanted my attention you could have just asked me for it" your jaw snapped together as soon as the words slipped out, eyes going wide at your unabashed confidence.

Your words seeming to please the male, a smirk crossing his face as he leaned into reply, "Can you blame me? Getting the chance to run into the most beautiful woman in all of Prythian doesn't come too often."

Unable to stop the blush which flushed across your heated cheeks, your eyes looked to anywhere but his own hazel ones in an attempt to escape the intensity of his gaze.

"I'll tell you what," the handsome stranger started, gesturing his head towards the counter, "I think I owe you a drink after that accident, if you want to join me that is."

All thoughts of getting something for Azriel forgotten, a smirk of your own worked its way onto your face as you reply, "hmm, I'm not sure. I only drink coffee with males I know the name of."

"Deimos" he eagerly replied, the glint of an unknown emotion shimmering within his hazel eyes, "My name is Deimos."

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

Notes: I would apologise for the lack of Azriel in this part but honestly I think you guys would thank me for it at this point!

Big thank you to @sarawritestories who waved her magic wand and made me love my writing again.

Taglist Part 1:

@a-cup-of-nightshade @yearninglustfully @illyrianbitch @ninaduchess @sarawritestories @annaaaaa88 @antiquecultist @madelyncullen @erencvlt @chaytea06 @dxjaaaa @saltedcoffeescotch @spark1epuffba11s @thestartitaness @amysangel @historygeekqueen @thelov3lybookworm @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @willowpains @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @dreamlandreader @sidthedollface2 @leeknows-wife @riorgail @eve175 @evergreenlark @anuttellaa @daily-dose-of-sass @jesus-is-me @tothestarsandwhateverend

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel series #azriel oneshot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar

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writing-fanics · 3 days

Text

Adam having finally found someone who loves him. She becomes his third wife and he loves her more than anything.. so when he losses her in the battle.

he’s wondering why?

how many times does he have to go through the same thing? Third times the charm right?

but not like this.. why? He finally found someone who actually tolerated him yet still put him in his place he found someone he could be happy with and now she’s gone

Her blood covered his hands. Was this the consequences of his actions? He just stared at his hands then at her lifeless body a faint smile on her face a single tear stain on her cheek.

they never even had the chance to start a family together. yeah he already had kids from his previous marriage with Eve but he rarely ever talked to them.

maybe this was his punishment for his actions he broke the rules after all hurting a hellborn breaking the contract.

maybe it eas his fault his wife was lying before him. He seemed to blame himself in that moment his ego in that moment but it wasn’t until he stared up at Lucifer.

no it was all his fault everytime.. Lucifer has stolen something from him. First Lilith then he seduced Eve and now took you

Adam will never see you again hear your laugh or, wake up to u making breakfast. Cuddling with you in bed and hearing your sad excuses for jokes that were terrible but god he couldn’t help but laugh

the nursery that you’d decorated will no longer be needed. he didn’t only lose you but the child you carried.

And it was all Lucifer’s fault.. and he was gonna make him pay no matter what even if it killed him.

#Hazbin hotel Adam #Hazbin hotel Adam x reader #Adam x reader

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noted-aj · 2 days

Text

Feeling so tired, really falling apart.

hazbin hotel (some of) cast x gn!reader

comfort / angst headcanons

HCs for if the cast found reader crying in their room, yet they attempt to hide the fact that they were. reader is gender neutral, they/them are pronouns used along with Y/N <3

(SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT!!!) first post ever :3

characters included: angel dust, charlie, husk, alastor

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・.・。.・

Charlie:

💌 - Charlie would definitely bring snacks or things that comfort you to your room.

💌 - She can be a bit much at times, and my accidentally pry too much.

💌 - I swear, her hugs could probably comfort anyone within seconds. Just imagine a soft yet intense cuddle sesh with her

💌 - She wouldn’t want to be too pushy, but would definitely offer to stay with them and help cheer them up.

A light knock sounded from your door and a soft yet somehow still energetic voice followed it. “Hey, (Y/N)?..” A small sniffle could be heard from the other side of the door, coming from you. A strained “Yes?” you said. The door creaked open, your head staring at the bubbly woman who stood in your doorway. “I just wanted to check on you, you haven’t been out of your room all day.” You swiftly wiped the tears from your face “No, no, I’m fine Charlie. Don’t worry.” Charlie gave you an empathetic look and walked over to your bed, sitting down on the corner of your bed. “Tell me how I can help.” She wrapped an arm around you with a smile.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・.・。.・

Husk:

🍻 - Husker is definitely great at comforting others, but doesn’t like to do it to people he doesn’t trust or know.

🍻 - He would be similar to a father figure just letting you rant about what happened, but not trying to shut down your problems.

🍻 - Asks what kind of drinks you like and make them for you, or have Charlie help him find comfort objects for you

The door to your hotel room creaked open softly, but loud enough for you to hear. You wiped your eyes and stood up defensively, taking a few sniffles. A cat demon looked down at you slightly, a melancholic look on his face. You sighed and turned away from him, giving up the attempt to hide the fact you were crying. “You alright, kid?” You nodded largely, not saying a word. He looked down with you and then back towards your face, turned away from him. “..Would you tell me if you weren’t..?” You looked away shamefully, still remaining silent. He placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a small smile “That’s okay. I’m here for you if ya need it.” He chuckled.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・.・。.・

Angel Dust:

💒 - Depending on what you were crying about, Angel can usually always help in some way or another

💒 - His hugs are immaculate, he has 6 arms for a reason. And he’s soft as hell too.

💒 - He has a lot of problems as well, and I’m sure you two could have such a relieving vent & cry session together.

You walked up the stairs on the hotel lobby, not speaking a word to anyone in the lobby. You received a few concerned and confused glanced for someone who was usually striking up conversations, you didn’t spare a glance to any of them. “I’ll check on ‘em.” Angel walked up the stairs behind you, and paused before knocking on your door. He hesitated but eventually tapped his knuckles against the door and was met with a “Go away.” and a few sniffles. He opened the door lightly and frowned at your clearly upset state. “C’mon doll, you know you can talk to me.” He reassured and walked over to your bed, sitting on the edge and placing a hand on your shoulder.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・.・。.・

Alastor:

📻 - Despite seeming so careless about everyone, he took pity on you when he saw your depressive state.

📻 - Will NOT leave you alone until you tell him what happened or why you’re so upset.

📻 - Someone hurt you? Done, killed. Someone accidentally hurt you? Also done, killed.

📻 - Won’t get physical, but will offer some advice.

(Similar to the last scenario)

You walked into the hotel foyer, looking around and only seeing Niffty dusting a window sill while Husk was slumped at the bar, his face stuck right in it. Alastor, Charlie, Angel, and Vaggie were nowhere to be seen. You saw this as a great opportunity to not talk to anyone. You sniffled and wiped your eyes with a huff, perking up the staircase and maneuvering to your room. As you closed the door to your room, you sighed and leaned against the door when you felt the tears come back again. All of a sudden, Alastor manifested in your room, towering over you. “Mind telling me about your melancholic facade?” He smiled at you, in typical fashion. “I’m fine, Alastor. Leave me alone.” He saw right through your persona, and his gaze narrowed. “Now, now, let’s not be hostile. Fill me in.” He sat down on your bed, patting a spot next to him.

authors note: i started this in early march and COMPLETELY forgot about it.. please request ideas, I NEED STUFFS TO WRITE BEFORE I RUN OUT OF MOTIVATION!!!!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・.・。.・

#hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel platonic #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #gn!reader #comfort #hazbin hotel comfort #alastor x reader #angel dust x reader #husk x reader #charlie x reader #aaaaahhhhhhhhhhh #noted aj

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kooberist · 2 days

Text

. . . . ⋆.˚ when i see you cry it makes me smile~ ♪ 𔓘

nerd!jungkook x crush!reader

non con, sadistic jk, crying, mentally ill jk? jimin being the devil on jks shoulder

His lips purred into a smile so wide that they parted and his eyes squinted, teeth showing. His smile was almost angelic, as if he held a secret that could brighten the darkest of days.

Your face did the opposite. Lips quivering as tears overflowed your waterline and made your eyelashes all soggy and your eyebrows all furrowed.

This was all going on at the same time. Jungkook was smiling because you were crying, something he found inexplicably joyful.

Why? Why did he find joy in your tears?

Jungkook's heart beated for you, and his lungs expanded just for you. He felt euphoric when he saw you, but all of it came to a halt like a cog was missing in a clock.

"Would you like to be friends?" Jungkook studied; he knew he wanted to be more, but this was a baby step in the right direction. A sour expression crept on your face as you heard his question. "no thanks." Your words cut through his heart like he was in a slasher movie, leaving him feeling rejected and hurt, but one more thing consumed him: hate.

Jungkook sat on his best friends' beds as he contemplated how to deal with this new emotion. "You want to fuck her, right?" Jimin asked with a smile. Jungkook shyly nodded, and that's when Jimin said what Jungkook secretly had in the back of his brain. "Then rape her." He stated that it was a simple task. With a little help from his friend, he found a light in the tunnel at the end, and that was revenge. He had no choice.

Browsing through the campus library, trying to scurry as the clock almost reached the closing hour and the dim place slowly got empty, nobody left except you and the young pink-haired person at the desk down on the bottom floor. Fastly looking through the big books in the empty, dark island, a boy in a big black hoodie tapped your shoulder.

"Would you like help?" His voice was soft and calm. You shear your head no and go back to searching and he felt like a genius as his prediction to your reaction was spot on

He tapped your clothed shoulder again, and when you turned around, his hand that was once on your shoulder flew to your neck in a tight grip.

He felt ecstatic as you gasped for air and your face shifted to fear and panic.

"Im sorry." He lifted you off your feet with ease while his free hand undid his belt in a swift motion along with your skirt, and your mind raced, desperately searching for a way to escape his grasp. The room seemed to spin as you struggled to break free, your heart pounding in your chest.

Pants dropping along with his boxers. He groans as he strokes his throbbing cock about twice before sticking it in your wet heat with a soft and quiet moan..

"Ah, fuck," he groans. Was he really losing his virginity to rape right now? He told himself it was your fault in low groans as he thrust in and out. Tears are now streaming down your face, and moans of pain are escaping your mouth loudly. His fat cock thrusting in and out as his legs shook and his forehead met his, and sweat beamed down his forehead. Pre-cum and slick juices mixed together, creating a slippery sensation. The room filled with a mix of desperation and pleasure as he continued to move with increasing intensity.

"help" You cried out in a raspy voice. The intensity of the situation weighed heavily on your mind as you desperately pleaded for help, hoping someone would hear your cries. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as you struggled to comprehend how this could be happening to you.

"Sorry," he said in repeated whispers, but when you started to ugly cry, his guilt flew right down to his dick, making him on the brink of orgasm. His legs are shaking due to the sound of your moan-ish cries.

The knot breaks the rope in your stomach as you cum all over his cock in an extremely loud cry. The sweet music in Jungkook's ears echos through the big library, and you grow limp in his hand. His hips speed up at an inhumane pace, and his cum fills up your womb as his eyes shutter and his hand lets go of your neck, causing your energy-less body to fall to the rough carpeted floor of the isle full of books.

His lips purred into a smile so wide that they parted and his eyes squinted, teeth showing. His smile was almost angelic, as if he held a secret that could brighten the darkest of days.

Your face did the opposite. Lips quivering as tears overflowed your waterline and made your eyelashes all soggy and your eyebrows all furrowed. Sitting in the chair of an office and trauma comes back as you retell the traumatic memory. Jungkook innocently smiles as he knows you are just crying at the memory of what he did while he peeks through the glass window of the dim office.

Maybe you will think twice about being an asshole next time.

©kooberist 2024

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kneelingshadowsalome · 2 days

Note

Idk if you remember but you wrote a small drabble where reader was konigs secret admirer and it's been eating at my brain ever since😭 would you ever consider making it an actual story?

Oh I fell in love with the concept too! Here's a part 2 to that little drabble, I humbly offer it to you with my fluffy little paws ^^

CW: 18+ smut, fluff. Nothing bad here, just sweetness. Ok maybe a tiny bit of biting and light angst because it’s König after all... (Part 1 here)

He still doesn’t know who the mystery girl is.

She likes to tease him with cute messages and a photo of her tits but won’t tell him her name or where she lives. The girl won’t come to meet him so that he can show her some love, nor will she agree to go on a date with him. She just responds to his pathetic suggestions with a bundle of emojis that are about to drive him crazy, and another message that says: “Soon!”

König has to fall back on the bed and go to sleep with a rock hard dick and a set of twitching, lonely hands. His dream of having a proper girlfriend was shoved on the back burner ever since he joined the Jagdkommando, but now there’s a certain girl inside his head, a new, even better dream he can’t repel. The next day is no better; he even forgets what he was supposed to bring home from the store, knowing his mom will only sigh and tell him they’ll survive without some ingredient they both know is very well essential.

He stands before the butters and spreads, trying to recall what his mother wanted when he hears a soft gasp further down the aisle. He turns his head and barely catches the sight of a woman, turning in her heels and rushing down the flour section, just somewhere out of sight.

Hope and curiosity spark inside him as he leaves the butter and darts after her, calling “Hey” and “Wait” between the shelves as she flits towards the cashier in mild terror. He chases her as if he were trying to catch a thief, and the girl picks up her pace, then slows down to a complete halt… and turns.

Lovely, fearful eyes behold him the immediate second she meets his gaze, immobile hands clutching a bag of croissants and a jar of chocolate butter against her chest.

He slows down his jog and arrives in front of her with a smile, but the girl only looks more and more afraid. Even her jaw is clenched shut, the spitting image of a prey who just got caught.

“You’re her, aren’t you? The mystery girl,” he asks, trying to make it clear as day just how excited he is to finally meet her in person.

Her eyes stay wide as she blinks, the little bag of croissants crunching a bit further in her grip as she tries to shield her vital parts.

“Are you done shopping…?”

Still no answer.

She’s shy, just like he is... Maybe even more so, which is incredibly endearing: the same girl who sent him a picture of her boobs last night, the same girl who had no trouble teasing him to the point of leaking cum all over his sheets is as shy as a deer when caught in daylight.

It’s so incredibly cute… He thought she was a seductress of the most dangerous kind, but here she is now, looking up at him as if he was some boogieman about to come and snatch her away.

His smile only widens as he looks at his little minx who just tried to run away from the individual she’s sent postcards and love letters to ever since they were kids… Who knew his secret admirer was a bashful little cutie who sneaks around the local store to get herself some sweets and snacks?

“Let me pay for those,” he gestures at the products in her hand.

Another awkward silence follows until she finally turns her eyes to the floor and nods.

Perhaps it’s not that odd that she sent him anonymous notes and talked to him in texts and letters if she’s this timid -- he of all people should know how tough it is to walk to someone he likes and tell them he wants to go out. But he can’t help but wonder if the girl is mute, or partly deaf, or both. He wouldn’t mind. As long as they understand each other, it’s perfectly fine.

She looks at him like he’s a god —or a monster—while he pays for her humble delicacies. She stares at him with eyes still wide while putting the groceries inside a tiny cotton bag she has with her, and says nothing when he extends his hand towards her.

“Here. Give it to me.”

He’s trying to act the part of a gentleman to the full, and she offers the floor a tiny smile while handing him the bag. It weighs less than a half kilo, but the gesture is all that seems to matter because she is indeed smiling, shy and pleased as he shoulders the so called burden for her.

“I can walk you home if you like?” he suggests while pushing the door open for her.

She steps out into the luminous sunlight, eyes squinting a little from the sudden brightness. Then she turns to him and says her first meek words.

“But... Then you’ll know where I live…”

“Ah! She talks,” he laughs with a full smile and watches with a spreading warmth in his chest how she starts to grin, too. She’s looking at the asphalt and her shoes but she’s smiling, incredibly beautiful and pretty, outshining even the prettiest summer day.

“Don’t worry,” he starts to banter with increasing confidence—when has he ever teased anyone, let alone been confident around a girl he likes? “I promise I won’t come howling under your window at night...”

“It’s… It’s not that,” she laughs and bites her bottom lip. “I still live with my mom…”

She starts to walk towards where he lives, and he follows, his long legs catching up with her with ease.

“There was the COVID, and my mom is a little unwell… And with the economy… I’m still a student,” she explains while they stroll down the street.

“Really? I’m a student, too.”

“Oh…? What are you studying?”

“How to kill people,” he shrugs, cursing his stupid carefree mouth immediately. “Fuck… Sorry. That was… I mean, I’m in the army.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles.

He sneaks a peek her way, and she indeed doesn’t seem to be shocked in the slightest. Far more frightened she looked at the store when he noticed her and began to chase the poor girl.

They proceed to talk about what he does and why, how he only just returned from a month’s training that included concealment training in the mountains. She seems interested enough in his choice of career, which he tries to make sound as striking as possible, far more intriguing than it actually is. He tries to appear a little too glorious in her eyes, fearing he won’t live up to the reputation and fantasy she has built inside her pretty little head.

What if she wanted him to be a doctor instead of a moronic soldier? Maybe she fantasized about a lawyer or a historian with whom she could have fascinating conversations… And he’s just babbling nonsense about weather meters and ghillie suits.

But her eyes are still smiling, always at him when he looks away and starts to talk with his hands. When they arrive at the little wicket gate leading up to her house, he notices she lives only about a kilometre away from his childhood home.

She was always here, and he never knew anything about it… His secret admirer, his passionate seducer, turns out to be a harmless, lovely angel who lives right in the neighbourhood.

She takes her little cotton bag and turns to open the gate, and his hands twitch and flex. Say something clever, his mind yells, ask her out for fuck’s sake… But he needn’t worry, for his precious girl next door immediately turns back and shields her eyes from the sun while looking up at him.

“I’m sorry… I froze a little at the store. I just… This wasn’t how we were supposed to meet...”

“No? What did you have in mind for us then?”

She drops her hand back down and gives him a little halfway shrug, embarrassed.

“I don’t know. I just… I don’t even have any make-up on...”

He risks to bring a hand to her face, his thumb on her cheekbone, sweeps a little arc there to let her know she’s fucking beautiful.

“You’re very pretty,” he says, and she raises her eyes back to his, this time looking like she’s being blinded by the sun even if he’s shielding her from it.

“I really liked the picture you sent me,” he says boldly, and for the second time this afternoon, hopes the earth could swallow him right then and there.

A pretty girl sends him one nice picture of her tits, and he has to be an asshole about it… She looks super uncomfortable, so flustered that she nearly guides her face away from his palm.

Fuck that he’s stupid… Must he always be such an idiot and fuck everything up?

“I’m sorry... I meant to say that–”

“I’m glad you liked it,” she rises on her toes and plants a quick, flustered peck on his cheek, then turns to the gate as quickly as a whirlwind. Opens it, and returns solely to give him a bashful, naughty little smile.

“I liked your picture too,” she says so softly he can barely hear it.

“...Oh,” he squeaks, cheek still burning from her kiss.

“Do you want to come and see me tonight...? Mom usually drops before ten...”

“I… I… Sure.”

…

It’s a catastrophe.

His old jeans barely fit him anymore, they’ve become way too tight around the thighs. He’s put on some weight during the past few years and made sure to go to the gym every slack hour he has at his disposal, which means he’s packed a bit of muscle here and there. That, along with the many outdoor trainings, have ensured his appetite remains even bigger than usual so it’s no wonder none of his old pants fit. The only ones that don’t look utterly suggestive and wrong are his grey sweatpants, which he wore to the store today. He can’t very well wear those on a date, no matter what all those thirsty TikTok memes say...

He sighs, and grabs the black military pants he had on when he came here, pairing them with a simple black T-shirt. That’s all he has in his drawers: black, black, black, a few white ones that have some food and coffee stains on them, stains that never leave no matter how hard his mom tries to wash them for him.

The house is silent as he slips the keys into his pocket and hollers that he’s leaving. Like some lovesick, unneutered dog about to slink into the night…

“Mom? I’m going out. I… I have a date.”

“At this hour...?”

“Yeah… We’re… Going out to look at the moon,” he makes up off the top of his head.

His mom would scold him for harassing some poor girl when it’s almost midnight, even if it was her who invited him to her house. And if he’s lucky, there’s going to be a lot more action than just staring at the moon together… Not that that’s all he wants; it’s just that he’s been lonely as fuck and could really use a hug.

Is it a crime, with the past that he has, to want some human contact? Some skin on skin memories that don’t include punching?

“My little boy,” his mom strolls into the room, looking at him with soft, worried eyes. “You look like you’re about to invade some poor, innocent country…”

“Eh… I know. All the other pants were too small.’

She smiles at him: seeing a grown man sweat like a pig before a date must be a silly sight, even more compelling when that man is your own boy. The clock ticks on the wall as she looks at him like he’s about to march off to war, his only shoes a pair of standard leather boots he’s used for two years now. He showed them some grease and a brush, managed to make them look a little less worn and torn – if he had known some cute girl back home had a crush on him, he would’ve visited a clothing store before he came here…

His mom raises a shaky hand and draws him down to kiss him on the cheek, her eyes glossy and hazed from the gathering tears.

“I’m glad you’re finally eating enough,” she whispers with a voice that barely holds intact, and they both know why it’s shaking, why everything’s trembling; her hands, her voice and her tears.

His bottom lip is twitching too from witnessing his mom being so happy for his sake. But he doesn’t want to cry. He must stay oblivious and strong and pretend that things are finally how they should’ve been: normal and easy and wholesome and good. For her, he will never show that he’s shaking… Too many things in her life have done that when she needed them to stay stable and safe.

“Wish me luck,” he gives her a nervous smile, laughing the tears away.

“I always do…”

He leaves before his tower crumbles, slips out into the sweet, scented night.

There’s roses somewhere, roses that smell heavenly, some early jasmine too that wishes to intoxicate his mind. He realizes he has nothing with him to take as a gift for her, and cusses again. This is a fucking date, and he’s not even dressed properly; he doesn’t even have flowers to bring with him… She’s going to think he’s a nobody, some penniless freak who dresses like a crazy person when he’s supposed to dazzle her and make her swoon.

On his way to her place, he stops to cut a small branch from a flowering rowan tree and shelters it from the gusts of wind that blow from the river. The tiny flowers are delicate and fragrant, not exactly what he would’ve taken to her had he been clever enough to visit a florist before they all closed. But it’s cute enough, to him at least, especially when it’s cut from the tree that was his safe haven as a boy.

The curtains at her window shift when he arrives at the gate, and he knows she’s been expecting him, waiting for the clock to strike ten as eagerly as he.

The front door opens, and there she is: dressed far more accordingly than he; his lady has slipped into a sweet summer dress like the angel that she is. It’s bright and yellow, far from the darkness he always wears, and his heart is slowly squeezing to bits inside his chest.

“Hey,” she gives him a wide, knee-buckling smile.

“Hey,” he smiles back, marching to her door like a horny, ugly wolf. “You want to go for a walk? It’s a beautiful ni–”

The moment he arrives at her feet, the moment she sees that he’s carrying a tiny branch from the rowan tree for her, she snatches the front of his shirt and pulls him inside with a surprising amount of strength.

His forehead hits the doorframe with a thick thud before he manages to bow, and there’s a bit of a commotion after that. He huffs something akin to Oof and laughs, making the angel flit around him in a wild, flustered shame, apologizing to him at least ten times.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry! I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I’m sorry….”

“Heh. It’s okay,” he smiles while rubbing the achy spot on his head. He’s forced to sit into an old wicker chair, wide enough to accommodate his back but far too low to hold his stature. He sinks inside it like a veritable giant while she continues to fuss around him, inspecting his “wound” and taking the offering from him with a helpless, embarrassed stare.

“I’ll get you some ice,” she says before leaving him in his chair, the flower he brought softly placed on the bed.

He’s afraid the furniture will break if he moves, so he stays as still as possible while taking in his surroundings, the soft girl adobe he has somehow managed to sneak his sorry rotten arse into.

She has a large TV in front of her bed, a gaming console and a lot of books, candles everywhere he steals a look. The beige bedding looks freshly changed and incredibly soft, and there’s an old bunny toy on her bedstand along with another book, both loved to bits. Some houseplants on the floor appear to be doing extremely well, a small leather bag and some makeup left scattered on her desk. Rocks and twigs and dried flowers rest on her window sill, treasures she’s gathered from her trails. It makes his heart grow soft because he knows she will probably put his little offering there too. A bouquet of expensive, luxurious flowers wouldn’t have hit their target at all.

She returns with a small pack of ice and rushes to him in her flowy, blooming summer dress. Descends on her knees and brings a small towel to his forehead before pressing the ice over it, ensuring that it’s not too cold to make him uncomfortable.

As if he could ever feel uncomfortable, seated in a wicker chair with an angel between his legs, treating his supposed wound with ice and the softest touch…

“Remember all those postcards you sent me?” he asks while she continues to look like the worst person who ever lived, simply because she was too eager to pull him inside her room.

“Sadly, yes.”

“Remember what you wrote to me?”

“Not really,” she says, dabbing the ice pack all over the rising bump on his head. “Something stupid, I suppose…”

“You told me that you love me.”

Her eyes dart to his for a while, hope and shame battling in her fae stare.

“...Oh God.”

“Many times. And then you told me that I’m cute…”

She sighs and brings the ice and the cloth somewhere in her lap. The breasts inside their soft little cell look astoundingly delicious when viewed from up here: he’s slouching in a chair and still, is able to take a rude little peek inside her dress. He slaps himself mentally for being such a goddamn pervert, but then she sighs again, the cute little peaches swelling inside her dress once more.

“That’s it?”

“That’s mostly it, yes…”

He’s getting hard here, which is a problem. A big, big problem…

His shy admirer never notices anything, not even when he softly gestures for her to give the ice to him. He continues to press it on his forehead, trying to concentrate on the cold sensation rather than the swelling dick in his pants.

How is he supposed to not grow hard when he knows this adorable little creature has been infatuated with him for so long? When he knows she’s flustered now, just from hearing him tease her about those silly, harmless cards?

“I kept every single one,” he tells her, only to watch how the shy girl grows even shyer.

“You didn’t…”

“I did.”

He tells her about the bullies and how they made it look like they had sent the cards, telling him no girl could ever want to be with him. It’s a sad attempt to fish for her affection and pity, words of contempt and judgement to hammer it home that he did receive those cards from this girl, he did, in fact, deserve to be loved and adored.

And then she starts to talk about how she watched him... How she went to a different school than him, but that she sometimes strolled behind him when he walked home. They shared the journey to and from school, and he was always completely unaware that he was being followed.

“You stared at this rowan tree for what seemed like hours,” she recalls with a sad smile. “Then, if a bee caught your eye, or a bird or some flower, you stopped to ogle at those instead…”

He laughs, but there’s a bittersweet stone in his chest. If he remembers correctly, these were the only times of the day he could drop his eternal guard: in school, he was being tormented by cruel kids and at home there lived a tyrant with his sad little subjects. Trees and bees and birds were a welcome distraction.

She smiles a little, but it’s not a happy smile, even if it is affectionate.

“My mom always told me to come straight back home,” she says. “But you were never in a hurry...”

He looks at her, and she looks back, some pity in her eyes. There arrives a sweet and sour pain in his heart, a feeling that comes from knowing there was someone who witnessed a glimpse of the hope and pain he lived in. That there was someone there all along…

“You even stopped to look at dog poo…”

“Heh... Was that the moment you fell for me?”

Her lip twitches, the pity in her stare breaks. She rises a little to lean forward, and he catches her with ease as she falls there into his arms, snug into his lap. His lips find hers without effort, and sensation bleeds: his hands are sweaty and shaking as he runs them down along her dress, cups her ass so that she gives a little gasp straight into his mouth.

That’s the thing he was pining for: for her to open that pretty little mouth so that he could pry it further open with his own. Plunge an exploring tongue inside, not too quick and not too greedy, just a little poke to see if she wants to be claimed.

The angel melts in his lap, like pure white snow, until he braces his core and rises to his feet. It’s now or never, and he’s not going to let this moment slip past his fingers. Somehow, they end up on the bed, the smell of fresh linens and her dainty perfume catching his nose before she presses a pair of weak hands on his chest.

“The flower...”

The flower... Of course.

The flower from the rowan tree.

He huffs a laugh on her face, a relieved smile as he understands she’s only worried about trampling his gift.

It’s set aside on the table, but right after that, he attacks her again, begins the ascension to heaven. His lips won’t get enough of her, not even as he drinks her like honeydew and ambrosia: the dress he used to associate with seraphs and summer now seems like a huge obstacle between his tongue and her skin, the need to taste more of her urgent in his hips.

“Can I take this off?” He roughs a hand down the fabric that shields her breasts, relishing the tiny moan that follows when he does that. “I want to kiss you everywhere…”

Her throat makes a wet, charming sound as she swallows, her eyes now pools of dark, drunken love.

“On one condition,” she tells him, out of breath. “If I can kiss you everywhere too?”

It’s a deal, his mind exclaims immediately, but his devilish grin is how he tells her he’s more than eager to accept these terms. His clothes find their way on the floor along with hers, black on black on yellow, but he won’t let her shiver in the cold for long. Like a man possessed, his body finds hers, her soft, naked skin colliding with his like heaven after all those lonely nights of slick, urgent fapping.

He’s not sure who’s worshipping who here, but he vows to never again let this angel fly under his radar, no matter how perfect of a guardian she has been. A guardian angel, following him with her blessed stare, sending him heavenly messages that were real and true all along.

She should be rewarded for her abundant gifts, and so his lips find her shoulders and her neck; they graze her nipples and claim her breasts in devouring that leaves her back arching on the bed.

“You don’t have a girl? Waiting for you back there...?” she asks shyly, even when half her tit is being sucked by his mouth.

“The only thing waiting for me back there is my hand,” he rasps while diving down, down, down, all the way past her navel and the mound she still tries to protect from plunder.

“...I can be your girl,” she whispers somewhere high above, her hands holding his head like that of an untamed dog. “If you want…?”

He breathes on the apex between her thighs, presses a furious kiss there without care.

“F-fuck…” she sighs those thighs open, and from that point on, nothing is enough.

It’s horrible that it must be so: that he finally gets to drink his fill, and it’s still not enough. Her sighs are not enough, her trembling body is not enough. Her attempts to muffle her moans with the back of her hand are not nearly enough.

He wants more, so much more: he wants to try all there is to this with her, forever and ever until the day he dies. He wants to hear her soil her tongue with more curses as he ruins her, bit by bit, just a little bit…

“Say it,” he pants into her glistening lips, “Say that you’re my girl…”

When she does nothing but whimpers in return, he attacks her with both teeth and tongue. Bruises the thigh beside her treasure before plunging straight towards the main prize with reckless want. That’s what finally forces the words out of her mouth: his tongue inside her cunt, delving so deep he has to breathe through his nose to keep from fainting.

“I’m your girl,” she moans on the bed, a bit louder now. “I’m yours, I promise… I always… Always…”

I always was….

She doesn’t say it. She doesn’t need to.

He grants her mercy after that, replacing the tongue with a finger or two. Slow wide circles over her clit accompanied by quick little pumps in her hole make her cum in no time, and he’s glad he listened to the dirty mess talk of his filthy comrades. Patience is not his virtue, but for her, he makes all the effort.... He for sure leaves a little memory on her thigh. It’s not very nice of him, and he fears those teeth marks might stay with her longer than just a few weeks.

Maybe she’ll forgive him if he fucks her after this, rocks her slowly and softly, fucks her like angels ought to be fucked. But no, fucking is not the right word... He wants to make love to her. Drink her moans right from her lips while he does it.

After the climax, he’s still hard and she’s still panting.

He wonders if he’ll get slapped or kissed if he asks for permission to put it inside now... His dick is throbbing while they stare at the ceiling together, but as always, his angel is two steps ahead.

“My turn,” she says with newfound vigour, and he gets more than he bargained for: everything and more as she gives his body the same attention he just gave her. Bites his nipples a little too hard, the little minx, licks his ribs as if it’s some kind of a contest to try and make him tickle. Laughs angel trails across his skin, draws a finger down his nether hair until she meets his jutting dick.

She gives him a tame little lick at first, then slowly, expeditiously, kisses his cock from root to tip. Before due time, his thighs start to tremble, and that’s when she takes it in her mouth: sucks and licks him deep until his abs and balls pull tight. The sheet in his fist threatens to get torn to shreds when he cums, and for a moment, he forgets everything, even his name, until he notices that the poor little thing can’t swallow all his load. She almost chokes on the first spurt, withdraws to cough with her mouth closed while he hisses fat curses past clenched teeth.

When he arrives back to Earth, there’s cum everywhere: on her face, on the sheets, all over his abdomen and his thighs, an eruption that spilled everywhere because his angel got a little appalled.

“I’m sorry,” she peeps with her mouth still full of it.

The poor girl swallows it bravely, and his heart is about to explode: his angel swallows his filthy load like a champ and looks so incredibly valiant while doing it.

“Hey,” he raises a shaking hand towards her, too weak to rise from the bed to comfort her. “It’s okay… You didn’t need to do that…”

“But I wanted to,” she complains while the thick, sticky cum drips down her cheek and onto her breasts.

“Shit… Come here,” he coaxes, and she crawls forward to nestle in the nook of his arm.

He uses the sheet to dry the rest of it off her face. She looks up at him with that trademark seraph stare, so helpless and in love—if this is what having a girlfriend is like, then he doesn’t feel bad at all that he had to wait a little longer than most men. It was worth all the trouble and toil that he has her here now, in his arms, batting her lashes sweetly.

“You’re still incredibly cute, you know...?” she whispers, and a mountain inside him moves.

It’s not sorrow, nor is it yearning; it’s just sweet, simple love. The room smells of salt and sin, but there’s nothing sinful about her when she cups his chin. He knows it’s not elegant to tell someone you love them on the day you've met them, but if the one you love happens to be an angel, then isn't it a sin not to confess?

#könig x you #könig x reader #könig fluff #soft!könig #strangers to lovers

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ghouljams · 3 days

Note

Begging on my hands and knees for Fae!Gaz to tap me into the next fucking dimension jeussnchfihsn

It's just that... coincidences only work when you believe that's what they are. Gaz can memorize your schedule, he can know your route to work, he can happen by your usual morning spot for tea, but it doesn't take many run ins before you start to get suspicious. He smiles at you across the tube platform and your skin crawls. Some prey response in the back of your mind startling. You've seen him every morning for the last week, and he's always looking at you. Normally you spare him a quick glance, but today he holds your attention. He takes a step forward and you have the brief feeling like he means to hop across the tracks to you.

Your train arrives just as your heart jumps into your throat. You don't see him out the window, it doesn't calm your nerves. He's outside sitting on your usual park bench when you go out for lunch, tossing bread at crows that scatter as you approach. You didn't know there were so many of them in the area, the trees are heavy with their dark wings, the air still of their clicking chatter. You walk past your bench and find another one, closer to the little playground, somewhere someone will hear you if you shout.

You break from your usual routine after work and swing by a patisserie. Paranoia is bad for your skin, you need something to calm yourself down, something deliciously normal. You sit outside enjoying the sun with your fruit tart and decide that seeing one stranger twice doesn't mean he's stalking you. Still, you're going to change your route and maybe the times you leave for work/take your lunch break. There, problem solved, your therapist would be proud of you. You didn't jump to the worst case, and you came up with achievable short term solutions.

"This seat taken?"

You look up and meet warm umber eyes, a smile with too many teeth. Your fight or flight kicks in and you're on your feet before you can drop your fork. Gaz catches your wrist before you can take a step away from the table and rips you to face him. His fingers finding your face before you can register you've been caught.

You drop, your body slumping to the side as Gaz catches you under your arms and helps lower you back down into your chair. He tips your head, holding your chin with gentle fingers, and pulls your eyelid up to check your pupil. All good. No damage done, just scared you a little.

"Sorry about that love," He sighs, taking the empty seat next to you and plucking one of the strawberries off your tart, "pushed too hard, I'll get it right this time. Promise."

Perhaps it's your own fault for giving him such an open wish. "It would be nice to fall in love." He can do that. He just needs to get the formula for it right.

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz mw2 #gaz modern warfare #gaz cod #gaz garrick #gaz garrick x reader #fae!gaz #1fae1 #oc: sunny #tap tap tap

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lorarri · 4 hours

Text

★ . . . 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 , 𝐋𝐍𝟒

summary , when making a guest appearance on your youtube series chicken shop date you were surprised by how much you actually enjoyed his company and the rest was history

pairing , lando norris x fem! youtuber! reader

main masterlist | f1 masterlist | lando norris masterlist

yourinstagram now playing: friday - riton, nightcrawlers, mufasa & hypeman

liked by landonorris charles_leclerc 89,279,365 others

yourinstagram landonorris has my heart racing 🏎️ chickenshopdate out Friday !

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user Lando is literally perfect for this you don't understand

user brb need a pit stop you two are too good together ❤️‍🔥

user ICONIC collab 😮‍💨🙌🏽

user cold

charles_leclerc me next??? ⤷ landonorris no she mine ⤷ yourinstagram ummmmm since when sirrrr

user STOP STOP STOP IM SCREAMING!!!!!!!!

user He’s P1 in our hearts 😍🧡

user Get him some fish sticks

user ok song choice, you know what’s up

user can already hear his giggles

user Yeah, we needed this for sure

user IT'S FRIDAY THENNN 🕺

user Lando buzzing that he gets to eat a proper meal for once 😂

user At this point I don’t watch for the celebrities, I watch for Y/N.

user the capri sun is so iconic

user Weird, I’m jealous of a ketchup bottle

user BROOO IS THAT HOW IT FEELS TO GO ON A DATE WITH LANDOOO!???? cause im in

user We can’t gatekeep him anymore😭

user So this is what a date with Lando Norris is like?

user not him and charles beefing in the comments over Y/N 😭😭

user 😭 HOW 😭 DOES 😭 IT 😭 FEEL 😭 TO 😭 BE 😭 LIVING 😭 MY 😭DREAM 😭

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yourinstagram . 2hrs ago

seen by landonorris maxverstappen1 57,279,364 others

landonorris replied to your story!

you love me really

no comment

yourinstagram

yourinstagram The secret is out 💋 chickenshopdate with landonorris out now!

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user RUNNING TO WATCH RN

user Y/N if you don’t I will

user Please make out with every guest, okay thank you bye

user STOP SMILING MAN WHAT THE HECK HE IS SO CUTE

user “i’m down” fell to my knees in the grocery store

user LMFAOO the way she answered “playing hard to get” too😭😭😭😭

user The LIP BITE after the ‘even hotter if I was in there’ 😅😅😅 OH MY

user LMAO she still didn’t follow him back😭😭😭😭😭

user lmk when someone writes this fanfic pls

user Y/N. This man is in love with you.

user Man was offended by "thats why your not winning" 😭

user Nah because they’re cuteeeee together 😩😩

user Wow I think I might like this one more than the one with central cee 😭

user Freaking get married right now

user he’s so bashful loveeee

user best duo ever ahahahahaah so chaotic

user Wasn’t long enough!!!!! 😭😭

user Okay, now I need every F1 racer to do chicken shop date

user This is a real date

user Lmao, best crossover

user This is illegal 😭 too cute😍

user PLS HE COULDN'T EVEN STOP BLUSHING 😩😩😩

user Amelia, this is so darn cute, please just date him already

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Y/N L/N → LANDO NORRIS | CHICKEN SHOP DATE

landonorris

liked by yourinstagram carlossainz55 89,265,186 others

landonorris Gonna go get my appendix removed. Apparently you do it and you win a race soooooo…. congrats Carlitos 🌶️ #weightloss

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user CARLANDO. 🙏

yourinstagram Yay you were faster !!! 😍 xxx ⤷ landonorris all for you bae ⤷ user 😭💀 ⤷ user CSD effect💅 ⤷ user HELP HE WAS ⤷ user followed him back after getting on the podium 😂😂😂 ⤷ user it’s the power of love….🎶 ⤷ user more Y/N motivation 😍😍😍👏👏 ⤷ user FAV WAG 🥰 ⤷ user the most supportive gf for real ⤷ user not him calling her bae on the main

user What a duo 🔥

user Another Carlando podium….Another happy day 😁

user every racing driver about to go remove their appendix

user CARLANDO NATION! WE WON 🧡❤️

user All drivers take notes 📝 🤣🤣

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landonorris and yourinstagram . 4hrs ago

seen by carlossainz55 charles_leclerc 79,394,579 others

charles_leclerc replied to yourinstagram story!

so is this still a no for that chicken shop date??

get lando's blessing and then we'll talk

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luveline · 2 days

Note

Hellooo!! I saw your requests were open so I thought I'd ask if you could do singer/guitarist reader who fucked up on a gig (totally not self projecting here) and she like forgot some lyrics and stuff and she's just really upset and poly!marauders or really any of them comfort her

If not I totally get it and no worries!!

ty for requesting!! fem!reader, 1k

The best part about having more than one boyfriend is that one of them is bound to be good at something if the others aren’t. So while Remus can’t usually lift heavy things and Sirius doesn’t want to, James is more than happy to help your band pack up their things at the end of the night.

It also helps that he’s a bit of a fanboy about it. He might jokingly ask you for your autograph from time to time, but he genuinely likes talking to your bandmates about the songs you play and the equipment. You can hear him talking someone’s ear off as the other boys in the band huff and puff as they lift the amps into the back of the van.

“Why are you all silent?” Sirius asks, blowing a breath into your ear.

It’s not a very Sirius question. He sounds teasing, and his hand is playful as he pulls you into his side against the hood of his car, eyes on Remus where he chats across the car park to a friend.

You look up into his face. “M’not.”

“Ah, forgive me. I must be going deaf.”

You press your cheek to his shoulder. “You are. Hope that helps.”

“Of course it does.”

He hooks your shirt with his pinky and slides his hand onto bare skin, scratching at your tummy and ribs with short nails. “You don’t want to tell me?”

You turn further into him, hiding from his nagging questions, though you answer, because he’ll only find a way to drag it from you, and because you’d desperately like some reassurance. “I messed up really badly tonight. I ruined the set.”

“You didn’t ruin the set. You did mess up, but really badly is subjective.” Sirius looks down at you on his shoulder, his breath warming your skin, strands of his hair falling onto your face softly, you’re that close. “Everyone messes up,” he murmurs, “doesn’t mean you ruined it.”

Remus’ voice carries from a few feet away, “Where’s James?”

“He’s still helping. Our poor angel can’t use her arms, it seems.”

You and Remus wrinkle your noses simultaneously. “Her arms are fine,” he says.

“James offered,” you butt in.

“I’m joking,” Sirius says, touching his nose to your face, drawing a soft line before pulling away. He leans back casually. “It’s what people tend to do when their partners are upset.”

You needle him with your arm. “Dick.”

“You’re upset?” Remus asks.

That’s exactly why Sirius is a dick. You step away from his arm in time for Remus to stop in front of you and look you over in concern. “What’s the matter?” Remus asks.

“She’s embarrassed about forgetting the words earlier,” Sirius answers immediately.

You glare at him. He lays back against the car with an arm behind his head, grinning. Makes sense for him to be sweet and kiss you like that just to chuck you into the deep end.

“I didn’t want to say,” you mumble.

Remus sidles up to you, and he’s taking the same stance as Sirius, a teasing lightness that colours his smile as he wraps his arms around you. These boys are always hugging you.

“I don’t care if you want to say,” he murmurs, “you must tell me.” His hands clasp behind your back. “I won’t be left out.”

His face works into your neck, breath warms and tickles your skin.

He gives a scratch of kiss before he yanks away to meet your eyes. “Come on.”

“Messed up. Everyone saw. Set ruined.”

“Oh, oh,” he murmurs, “is that what you think happened?”

“Don’t be a liar,” you say.

“You forgot the words to one song. Everybody still had a good time, you looked amazing up there.” Remus leans far from you with his arms still braced behind your back, laughing as he says, “You were nearly perfect, and next time you’ll remember the embarrassment you’re feeling now and you won't forget the words.”

He kisses your cheek.

“Can we not tell James?” you ask.

“We have to.”

“I know.”

James is back sooner than you anticipated with a grin, the curls of his hair still perfect with pomade, not a drop of sweat on him. To your surprise, he doesn’t need to be told. “Oh, my girl,” he says proudly, jabbing your stomach with fake blows, “you did great! You only messed up one song!”

Remus winces, but you think perhaps James’ way of looking at it is best of all. You could’ve messed up every song you performed tonight but it was just one.

“You’re amazing,” he furthers, taking your face into both hands. “Fuck, you look amazing when you’re up there with your guitar like that. I had a dream once we were in a band together. Remus got all handsy with you–”

“Are you sure you’ve got the right man?” Sirius asks, letting Remus pull him up from the hood.

“It might’ve been me,” James concedes. “I know it’s not like me to ask for something back, but I did all that heavy lifting for you shortcake, and I’m dying for an encore.”

You’re not sure if he’s asking for something more than a show, your cheek turning hot in his hold. He encourages your face to his, his nose tapping yours up for a long, slow moving kiss, at odds with his flirtations but not his touches. His hands drag sluggishly down to your shoulders, the breath he takes on your lips like a happy sigh.

“Get off of her, pervert,” Sirius says, jostling you both apart. “We’re in public.”

“It’s just a kiss. I’m very proud of her, Sirius. She deserves a good kiss.”

You fluster in his hands.

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hisfavegiri · 2 days

Text

One Mistake - Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader.

Warning : typical inscet Targaryen, angst, mentions of an affair, harsh language, mention of blood, miscarriage.

You looked at your husband with the knife still at his neck, your tears flowing freely. You ignore the screams of your mother and sister asking you to stay away from Aemond, you are really angry now that Aemond has crossed the line.

"What are you waiting for? kill me now” you could see Aemond smile a little and it made your stomach turn, how could he be this calm when there was a knife at his neck?

"You think I can't do it, huh? You're wrong husband, I really can" once again you pressed the knife deep into his neck which you guaranteed might have hurt him because you could see the change in his expression a second ago.

You continued to stare at him sharply and angrily, but suddenly you dropped the knife in your hand. You may be angry and disappointed, but you still love him. he looked at you in shock and you ran out.

You ignored everyone's whispers and stares as you ran towards your chambers, you no longer cared what they said. As soon as you enter your chambers, you throw everything and scream.

You ignore the knock that comes from outside the door, you feel empty, you feel weak, your husband, the person you love has a child with someone else. A bastard, news that you can deny as strongly as possible, but it turns out that today the woman, Alys, brought their son and you saw him. A son that Aemond longed for was in her arms.

Suddenly your world was destroyed, the dreams you had created together with Aemond suddenly collapsed. You kept crying and screaming until your throat felt hoarse, You decided to stay in your chambers, you wouldn't come out to anyone. even your mother and your twin sister.

“My love? can you let me in?” You hear the soft voice of your mother who has been begging you to come in for three days, but you still hold on firmly and don't let her in.

you can hear her breath before she knocks again, “you should at least eat, I'm worried about your health love.” You remained silent, you hadn't even touched the food she brought you yesterday.

when night falls, your mother still continues to persuade you to open the door. This time she was accompanied by your sister, Haelena. “y/n.. please open the door, talk to me” but they noticed that your chambers door was no longer locked.

When they opened the door to your room, your mother screamed hysterically when she saw your current condition. You are lying on the floor with blood coming out from between your legs, there are also bloodstains on your mattress, there are visible tear marks on your cheeks and soft sobs are also coming out of your mouth.

"M- mother.. what happened?" that's all you can ask, Haelena ran out to call the Maester while your mother shouted for Aemond. You slowly closed your eyes making your mother panic even more and suddenly everything went dark.

You lie on the bed, your mother and sister always visit and even accompany you. It's been almost two days since you were unconscious after that incident, the incident where you lost your first child who you didn't even know was growing inside you.

When you find out that you have just had a miscarriage, you feel very useless, you feel broken, and feel empty. you blamed yourself until your mother told the Maester to give you medicine to help you sleep.

You growled as you felt extremely dizzy, you blinked your eyes and looked around you. until your eyes fell on Aemond who was standing near the fireplace, he looked at you with a blank but sharp gaze.

“What are you doing here? I don't want to meet you” you spat at him as he walk closer to your bed. You were shocked when you felt his big hands grip your cheeks roughly, you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

“because of you, I lost my child. because of your stupid and childish attitude, I lost my heir”

You looked at him in disbelief and anger, tears rolling down your cheeks now. You let go of his hand with all the strength you have, you're angry, you're furious. Not only does he blame you but he also doesn't realize that the reason they lost their child was because of him.

“my fault? you blame me?! Don't you think Aemond!? why am I like that? you cheated and got that whore pregnant! you have a child with someone else! and you can still blame this on me?! Are you crazy!?”

you screamed in his face, your breathing was very irregular because you were angry. your eyes are red from crying, you can't understand how he could blame you?

“What?! now you can't talk huh? what I said is a fact! You got her pregnant and hoped I would forgive you because I love you?!? I'm not that stupid! I'm not like Haelena when she found out Aegon had many children from his whore, I'M NOT LIKE HER!”

Aemond just remained silent and continued to stare at you, he had no intention of replying to you and you hated that. you turned your head around when you heard your mother's voice “what is this? y/n darling? why are you screaming? you must rest"

You looked at him and smiled a little, before finally taking the knife that was on the left side of Aemond's body. Aemond was shocked and you pushed his body, he fell unguarded.

"I'm sorry if I was never the best daughter for you mother, I will always love you" before your mother and Aemond could take the knife in your hand, you had already slashed your neck.

Aemond captured your body, you could hear your mother's voice calling all the guards to immediately bring in the Maester. Aemond looked at you in shock and fear, you smiled and gently stroked his cheek. "I hope you are happy Aem, sorry I couldn't be a good wife for you" then your eyes close and slowly your hand fell from his cheek.

“no, no, no! don't you dare close your eyes! y/n! Forgive me! y/n! please come back!” Aemond shouted while hugging your body which was starting to get cold, he cried and whispered sorry repeatedly in your ear. when the Maester came, he told you that you were gone. and that night was the night Aemond lost the only person who truly loved him, you.

tag list - @danytar @looneytun3s @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @julessworldd @eratosmusings (italic means that i can’t tag you)

#hotd #hotd imagine #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen #hotd one shot #aegon ii targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond x you #prince aegon targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #alicent hightower #haelena targaryen

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ladymunson · 3 days

Text

One 18+

Fic summary: Bucky struggles with his feelings toward you, which he hides by pretending he doesn’t trust you. You get placed on a mission together where trust is essential.

A/N: sorry if this is all over the place, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything so this might be a jumbled mess. Enjoy though!

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f rec), fingering, language, unprotected p in v, kissing, heavy petting.

Word count: 5.3k

Not proofread and no beta (apologies for any mistakes)

I do NOT consent to my work being copied, translated or posted to any other platform.

Support content creators by REBLOGGING

Dividers made by the wonderful @firefly-graphics and thank you to @jijilaufeyson for helping me make a decision.

“Are you serious?!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, “I’ve been with SHIELD for three years, I can do this mission by myself. I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Yes, you do.” Bucky sneers, you turn your head towards him and glare.

“I hate to agree with Barnes but he’s right, I think you still need someone to keep an eye on you. Your ex was HYDRA after all.” Tony says, as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You throw your head back in frustration, they’re never going to forget about him.

Three years ago, you had come back to the apartment you shared with you boyfriend of two years to find the place swarming with HYDRA agents. He had been assigned to you to eventually recruit you to HYDRA after they had discovered your abilities.

You’d always been able to sense how someone was feeling by just being near them and eventually it had morphed into being able to influence their emotions. You could walk into a party or a meeting and know exactly who to look out for, whether it be because they were vulnerable or someone with ill intention.

It took immense concentration, effort and energy to be able to change someone’s emotions without touching them. Which you always try and avoid, you don’t want to change someone unintentionally, you could ruin things for them. So, you manage to keep your emotions in check most of the time, and don’t accidentally influence anyone.

The moment you realised that Russell was HYDRA, you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, but they weren’t going to let you go without a fight. Luckily, you’d befriended the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, when you’d met her and Wanda Maximoff one night at a local dive bar after Russ had blown you off again. One text to her and they’d both been at your door and helped you get away from the agents and back to the safety of Avengers Tower where you’d been subjected to an intense interrogation from Tony Stark, Cliff Barton and Bucky Barnes.

You’d thought that after all the years spent training and fighting by their sides, they would trust you by now, but obviously they don’t. Or more specifically; Bucky doesn’t. Cliff had decided you were trustworthy the first time he interrogated you and had told them as much, but Bucky wasn’t hearing it. So here you were three whole years later, still deemed untrustworthy by the Winter Soldier of all people.

“You know what…?” You start and Bucky smirks at you, adding more fuel to the fire. “I’m glad you’re doing the recon alone, gives me time to pack.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “This is my last mission, I’m done. I quit!” You turn on your heel and leave the conference room without another word.

Bucky groans and places both hands on the table in front of him, flesh beside vibranium, and hangs his head.

“Well that went well Barnes.” Tony says as he walks over to the door. “Looks like I have to do damage control.” He points at Bucky. “You find something on that recon and figure out a way to fix this. We can’t lose her.” And leaves the room, the glass door swinging back and forth.

Bucky makes a fist and slams it down on the table in front of him. “Fuck!”

You stalk down the hallway, heading to your room, walking past everyone and ignoring them all as they try talking to you. Natasha notices and follows you to your room, the doors are automated so you can’t even slam it to let out your frustration. So, you throw your self face down on your bed and scream into the comforter. Natasha just stands by the door, not saying anything and waits for you to finish your screaming.

“Feel better?” She asks as you flip yourself over to lay on your back.

“I can’t believe he still doesn’t trust me! Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, I quit.” You say without looking in her direction.

“You didn’t quit.” Natasha says as she walks over to join you on your bed.

“I did, straight to Bucky and Tony’s faces. Both of them looked shocked but I don’t care anymore. I’m fucking done!” You say as you jump off the bed and begin going through your closet and putting clothes in a suitcase.

The one thing you want, is to have Bucky’s trust…. Okay there’s something you want more than his trust, but you’re never going to get it. If he doesn’t trust you to be member of his team, there’s no way he’s going to trust you in any sort of relationship. So rather than trying anymore, you’ve picked the nuclear option. Serves him right!

“Buck…?” Steve says as he walks into the conference room where Bucky is still hunched over the table. “What’s going on?”

“What is wrong with me Steve? Why can’t I trust people?”

“You mean y/n?” Steve asks. Bucky groans. “Buck, I think it’s obvious to everyone except you and y/n that you like her.” Bucky looks up at Steve. “In a romantic way.”

Bucky stammers, “N... no I don’t.” Steve raises an eyebrow and smirks at Bucky.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since she joined SHEILD, hell you haven’t even on a date in a year. You like her.”

“You’re right Steve, I do. But… She quit.” Bucky says as his head hangs head.

“What did you do? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Fix it!” Steve says and leaves the room.

You and Bucky avoid each other for the next week, but to be fair he was out doing recon for the mission with Sam, who had been ribbing him about his feelings for you and pissing Bucky off. They had however, been able to meet the mark and started integrating themselves into his world. Your role as Bucky’s girl would come later, and you couldn’t help feeling like he was ruining your chances to prove yourself. You could’ve done the getting to know the mark and maybe brought Bucky or Sam or even Steve in as your man later on.

You hated to admit it but their getting to know him first was the better plan as not many women were in that world.

The mark. Carlo Vizzini is the head of an organised crime syndicate, who deals stolen HYDRA and SHIELD weapons and technology to other members of the syndicate. The goal is to find the times and locations of all the shipments being brought into the city, finding a list of buyers would be the icing on the cake but it isn’t a priority.

Bucky’s role is to present himself as someone new to the area who wants to become a member of the syndicate. FRIDAY has come up with an elaborate backstory for the two of you, created entire histories for you both which you’ve spent the last week reviewing and learning. Your backstory isn’t too far away from your real story, so it isn’t hard to memorise. The problem is pretending to be his girl. How can you possibly work together and be convincing if it’s obvious to everyone that he doesn’t trust you. There has to be a reason why Tony suggested Bucky for the mission and not Steve, you don’t know what it is, not that you care because you won’t be around once this mission is completed.

The story. You and Bucky have moved to New York from Michigan, where was a mid level HYDRA agent who oversaw a warehouse that contained new tech. The place had been breached while he was attending a HYDRA event with you, and they had fired him for allowing the breach to happen (An actual event orchestrated by Vizzini).

You had been together for five years at the point you’re at, and Tony had decided to add the fact that you were recently engaged. So, you had to wear an obnoxiously huge diamond on your left ring finger, which really bugged you. You had both been set up in a brownstone in Brooklyn, sleeping in separate rooms but having to appear all lovey dovey in case you were being watched.

Four weeks later.

Carlo Vizzini has invited Bucky and you to an event hosted at his mansion in the Hamptons, where you will both be introduced to other syndicate members. So, you need a spa day and shopping trip where you can buy a dress for the event and be seen out and about acting like this is a normal occurrence. Tony has also arranged for someone from Tiffany to show up at your house and lend you some jewellery for the event as you’re a simple teeny hoop earring kind of girl.

You find the perfect dress while browsing online so it’s very easy to go and get it without having to actually search in store. Scratch that, Natasha found the dress for you and told you it would be a crime if you didn’t wear it.

The idea is to infiltrate the syndicate event, find the intel and get out without your cover being blown until the weapons and tech have been recovered. If your covers can last beyond that until the entire syndicate has been taken down, that’s even better.

So, you’ve been to the salon and had your hair done and are heading back to the brownstone when you notice the dark SUV you spotted outside the mall had parked across the road and the occupant was crossing over to you. You play it off like you haven’t noticed, a civilian wouldn’t have and that’s who you are for the foreseeable future.

“Excuse me? Y/N” The stranger starts a conversation with you.

“Yes? You answer, turning to face the person who has spoken to you.

“I’m sorry, I work for someone your boyfriend is trying to get into business with and he’s asked me to check that you out.”

You chuckle, “Fiancé.” The stranger looks confused. “He’s my fiancé, not my boyfriend. Does Mr Vizzini think we haven’t done the same the same to him? Can’t be too careful these days, too many con men around, especially in New York.”

The stranger seems a little taken aback by your words, but continues, like his job is at stake. “I have a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind answering.”

You cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow. “Okay?”

He takes a picture out of his jacket and asks. “Who is this man?”

The picture is of Sam Wilson, the Falcon but you answer, “That is Sam, James’s brother, adopted of course. “

“And how long have you been together?”

“Five years, engaged for one. Are we done here? I have to get ready for a party.” You say and turn to the steps of your brownstone, heading up to your front door.

“One more question.” You turn to face him again. “Can I use your bathroom?” You sigh and open the door, directing him the right way and stay in the hallway so he doesn’t sneak anywhere else for a snoop. You hear the cistern flush and the squeak of the faucet, but you also hear the sound of the medicine cabinet being opened. Yep, he’s snooping. A few moments later he steps out of the bathroom and thanks you as he leaves your house.

You head straight into the kitchen and start the coffee machine; you then grab a detector out of the kitchen drawer and head into the bathroom. Using it to detect for a bug, which you find in the cupboard under the sink and leave it there. You have a get out your phone and send a message, one you’ve prearranged with Bucky, telling him about the bug.

‘Can’t wait to see your reaction when you see what I have on under my dress (followed) tonight. You’re not gonna be able to keep your cool or your hands (Suspicious) to yourself’

‘New lingerie?” (Bug?)

‘Maybe (yes), but you’re gonna have to wait and see’

‘Can’t wait’ (Understood)

You’re gonna have to start your charade earlier than anticipated and act like a real couple. I suppose there are worse things in life than pretending to be in a relationship with Bucky. You can’t deny that the dude is hot.

You pretend to use the bathroom by slowly pouring a bottle of water in the toilet, flushing and washing your hands. Then you head back into the kitchen to pour yourself a coffee.

Bucky arrives home a short while later, carrying a bouquet of roses (Sam’s idea) and gives you a kiss. You feel a little twinge in your stomach, feeling his lips on yours. His kiss is light and sweet.

Feeling your lips on his sends a thrill through Bucky, the feelings he’s been trying to hide for years bubbling to the surface and he has to stop himself deepening the kiss.

“There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen babe, I’m going to start getting ready. No peeking!” You say and head upstairs.

Bucky stays downstairs to drink a coffee and makes a few phone calls, all in character of course, before heading upstairs to get into his tux which takes only a few minutes. He’s back in the living room in less than ten minutes, waiting for you join him.

Bucky isn’t downstairs for very long before he hears your heels on the upper landing and stands up to greet you but at seeing you, his breath hitches in his throat.

(This is the dress you wear)

“You’re fucking stunning!” Bucky breathes out, causing you to grin.

“Not too bad yourself James.” You reply as you walk down the stairs and take his outstretched hand.

You arrive at the house in the Hamptons, impressed with the size of the place, hanging on to Bucky’s arm. The size of it is really impressive and you live in Avengers Tower.

Bucky thinks that he must thank Natasha for picking out that dress. He can’t keep his eyes off of you, that dress hugs your curves in all the right places. Bucky knows he needs to remain professional, but he really wants to get his hands on you and bring you pleasure like you’ve never known. He won’t have any problem pretending to be your lover tonight, because that’s the only thing he wants.

The party is in full swing an hour later, you’ve mingled with everyone, hanging on Bucky’s arm, acting like he’s your entire world. And to him, you are his world. It’s not acting, he’s crazy about you and has been since you met.

Another forty-five minutes go by with the both of you all over each other, giving you a reason to sneak off at some point, to find the intel you’re there to get.

Bucky’s arm is around your waist, holding you close to him as you leave the “ballroom” where the party is. You’re acting the part really well, practically hanging off of him, hands wandering. Walking down the hallway, still all over each other, opening doors looking for a place to have some privacy. Some rooms are all occupied, but the one you’re looking for is empty, Vizzini’s office. As soon as you’re in the room and you part ways, straight back to business, heading for his desk and turning on his computer. Plugging a USB drive you take off of your bracelet into it, and copying the files.

“Heads up Buck, Carlo is on his way and he’s not alone.” Sam says over comms. The last file copies just in time, and you attach the USB back to the bracelet and walk back around the desk.

“Shit!” Bucky says. “We’re gonna get caught!”

Your brain works quickly, “I have an idea, but you have to trust me.” You say as you switch the computer off.

Bucky nods. “Okay.” You pull him over to the wall beside the door and lean against it. You reach up under your dress and remove your underwear, Bucky’s eyes bulge out of his head. You throw your panties in the vicinity of the desk and reach down to undo Bucky’s pants. “What are you doing?!” He asks.

“I told you to trust me, I’ll get us out of this.” You unbutton his slacks and bunch up your skirt a little. “Lift me.” You instruct. Bucky catches on and lifts you, so your legs are wrapped around his waist. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close. “Go with it okay?” You say. Bucky gulps but nods and your lips meet in a searing kiss that makes you both moan out loud into each others' mouths. His hips begin to move instinctively, playing the part of a man who can’t keep his hands off of his girl. Bucky feels an usual sensation, kind of like a happiness he’s never felt before. As quick as he feels it, it goes away again.

You’re moaning loudly, alternating between passionate kisses and heavy breathing when Vizzini opens the door to his office and “catches” you, entering the room with two burly bodyguards. You gasp and fake panic.

“What the…?” He exclaims, his eyes bogging out of his head before he composes himself and continues. “This is my office, not a motel room!” You giggle. “This is not a laughing matter young lady, this is very inappropriate behaviour!” Bucky lifts you and places your heeled feet back on the floor and helps you rearrange your dress before tucking his shirt back into his slacks.

“We’re sorry Mr Vizzini, but when your girl looks like this, you have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself.” Bucky says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“But this is my office!” Vizzini says, exasperatedly.

“We’re sorry but other rooms were occupied!” You say with a smirk. Vizzini nods and the two bodyguards rush out of the room, they return moments later, both red faced.

Vizzini nods again and turns to you. “We will not mention this again and our meeting Tuesday will go ahead.” Vizzini says. Before sitting at his desk and making a choked sound. “I think these belong to you.” He says, pointing to the black lace panties that had landed on the keyboard of his computer. You giggle and retrieve them from his desk, biting your lip as you do.

“Sorry again!” You giggle as Bucky wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the office. You head back to the party, makes it seem less like obvious that you’re involved in espionage.

You both carry on playing the devoted couple, you’re hanging off of him like someone who can’t get enough of their man. Sneaking kisses here and there, selling the bit. Vizzini reappears a little while later and blushes when you and he make eye contact, you smirk back at him and pull Bucky in for a kiss. It’s after midnight by the time your car has pulled up outside and you’ve said your goodbyes.

You’re still all over each other as you get into the car, smiling and waving to everyone as the car pulls away. You keep the act up until you’re on your way out of the Hamptons and on the free way before you separate, in case you were followed. You stay close to each other just so you can snap back together quickly if you noticed someone watching you or for when you get back to the brownstone that is your “residence” at least until this mission is over.

You can smell Bucky’s cologne and it’s been invading your nostrils since you walked down the stairs before leaving in the early evening. It’s lingering on your skin from how you’ve been all over each other all night. You recognise it as Sauvage, one of your absolute favourites. You can’t remember Bucky ever wearing it before, he’s usually a Hugo Boss guy, which is another of your favourites. You momentarily let your control slip (not for the first time this evening) and imagine what it would be like, to have Bucky’s affections and let happiness bloom inside you, but you stop it as soon as you feel it reaching your face.

Bucky has put so much effort into hiding how he feels, he feels like he’s suffocating right now. He feels something again, like a happiness that he’s never felt before. But it disappeared as quickly as he feels it. The truth is drowning him and he needs to tell you how he feels, the thought actually terrifies him though. What if you reject him? What if you don’t feel the same way?

He needs to talk to Steve, find out how to approach this because he can’t lose you before he’s even had you. The car pulls up to your brownstone and you both get out, his arm around your shoulders as you head up the steps. “I need to go run a quick errand I’ll be back soon, wait up for me?” Bucky asks.

“Of course, baby, I’ll see you when you get back.” You reply with a kiss on the lips, smiling at him as you unlock the door and step inside, closing it behind yourself and leaning against the door with a sigh.

Bucky runs to the bodega on the corner and uses their pay phone, making sure that he’s concealed before dialling.

“Hello…?” Steve answers on the fourth ring, his voice scratchy with sleep.

“How do I tell her? After everything, what do I say?” Bucky’s words are rushed out, not even telling Steve that it’s him.

Steve lets out a sigh. “Buck, just say what you feel. Honestly is the best policy. She needs to know what you feel is real and not because of what you’re both living right now. Open up, I think she will be more open than you expect. I’m going back to sleep now.” Steve hangs up and Bucky is more determined than ever.

He grabs a bottle of wine and some other items so it looks like he had a legit reason to be in the bodega, pays and heads back to your brownstone.

He unlocks the door, you’re not in the living room when he gets back so he quickly takes off the jacket of his tux and goes into the kitchen and puts the items he bought away. Bucky rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up his arms, grabs two glasses and opens the wine then heads upstairs.

You’re in your bedroom, you’ve taken off your dress and are wearing a short black silk robe. He walks in with the wine and goes to speak but the words die in his throat. He takes a deep breath and closes the door, you raise an eyebrow but take one of the wine glasses off of him as he pours the red wine into it. He pours his own, puts the bottle down and takes a big gulp from his glass.

“We need to talk.” The words rush out with his breath.

“About what?” You reply.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky says, looking straight in your eyes. “I act like I don’t trust you because it’s easier than admitting the truth, but the truth is what you deserve so here goes…” You look at him expectantly. Bucky takes another deep breath before he continues. “I like you and I have since we met, and it scared me because I’ve never caught feelings that quickly before. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever caught feelings like I have for you, with anyone. I think I…” he stops himself.

“You think you what?” You nudge.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

You look into his eyes and the cerulean blue shows nothing but sincerity. He means it. He loves you. You contemplate telling him how you feel but actions speak louder than words.

You walk to Bucky, standing in front of him. You lick your lips he looks into your eyes, searching for hesitation and finding none. He reaches out for you, his hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you closer. His lips brush yours and your breath hitches in your throat. You look into each others eyes and you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him closer and planting a firm kiss on his lips.

Your lips feel like they were made to kiss his, they slot together perfectly, like two halves of a whole. He sighs contentedly as your lips open to allow his tongue access, your tongues dance together, caressing each other as your bodies get even closer.

Something snaps in Bucky and he pulls you towards him, walking backwards until he’s against the wall. He spins you around and pushes you against the wall, breaking the kiss and leaving you panting for breath.

“I need you to say that you want this, please say you want this. I can’t bear one more moment without touching you.” Bucky says breathlessly.

“I want it, I want you.” You say and reach out for him again. He kisses you sweetly, pulls back and sinks to his knees. He plants a kiss on the inside of your knee which makes you shudder. “Fuck!” You moan out as his mouth kisses up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your centre. Bucky lifts your robe and groans out loud, noticing that you never replaced the underwear you removed in Vizzini’s office. He grabs your knee and lifts your leg, hooking it over his shoulder and moving his mouth to your mound, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. “Holy shit!!” You moan out and grab Bucky’s head with one hand and scratching at the wall with the other.

Bucky groans at your taste and begins to practically make out with your pussy, his eyes glassed over as your juices drip down his chin. His uses two fingers on his flesh hand and teases your hole, gathering your slick until he can sink them into you, straight to the knuckle. He’s eating you with such fierce ferocity and fucking you with his fingers so passionately that your orgasm builds quickly. “I’m not gonna last much longer.. I’m gonna…” a long moan escapes your lips as your orgasm washes over you. You shudder and shake, struggling to breathe as you ride the waves of your climax, your cunt pulsating around his fingers.

Bucky’s oral ministrations slow as your orgasm dies down, and your breathing returns to normal. He removes his fingers and your leg from his shoulder, stands and unbuttons his shirt before removing it and using it to wipe his face. He stands there in a white vest, his face flushed and looks at you adoringly. Bucky undoes your robe and lets it fall off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bra. You reach out and undo his pants, pushing them down leaving him in just a pair of black boxers. You can see his erection straining the fabric, you want nothing more than to take what you can tell is an impressive member out of his underwear and show him how good your head game is. Bucky however has other ideas.

“Take off the bra, please. I need to see all of you.” He says, his eyes still glassy. You oblige and he groans out loud, he steps forward and pushes you against the wall again. He takes your left breast in his hand and massages gently, causing you to arch into him. He lowers his head and takes your nipple in his mouth, circling the tight bud with his tongue. Bucky stops and plants a searing kiss on your mouth, it’s sloppy, full of teeth and tongues. He pushes his underwear down as you’re kissing, depriving your view.

You still don’t get a glimpse as he grabs your ass and lifts you, your legs automatically going around his waist as you continue your assault on each others' mouths, it’s like you can’t get enough. Bucky breaks off the kiss as he looks into your eyes, the both of you are heavy breathing already. “Ready?” He asks, you nod. “Words baby.”

“Yes please!” You feel the head of his cock against your entrance, gathering as much of your creamy slick as he can. Before notching inside you, your eyes roll back in your head as he slides into your wet cunt, painstakingly slowly. He wants you to feel every inch, every vein, the way he throbs for you. Once he bottoms out in you, you release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your arms are around Bucky’s shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. You’ve never felt so full, so… complete. There’s a slight sting and burn, you can only assume but there’s a very good chance that he’s big and girthy.

Bucky plants a kiss on your lips before he begins to move, sliding out of you, almost completely before sinking into you again. The air is knocked from your lungs, you feel amazing as his cock slides in and out of you at an agonisingly slow pace. You moan out loud at the sensation.

“Faster!” You groan out, frustrated at how slow he’s fucking you.

“All in good time, I need to feel you.” Bucky moans out, but pretty soon he can’t just revel in the feeling. He needs to move faster, chasing his end. His hips snap up quicker and your moaning increases in volume, that heat in your belly building again with each thrust of his hips.

Bucky takes your mouth again, kissing you with all of him as he fucks into you with abandon. Your moans and tongues intertwined, your heavy breathing entering each others' mouths. Your hands carding through Bucky’s hair, tugging gently on the strands at the nape of his neck. Each time you do it makes his hips thrust harder and makes him grunt. But you have to stop after a minute as the heat blooming in your belly expands more until it can go no further.

It snaps and blooms upward and downward, sending heat to your toes and making you see white. Your climax makes your head roll back and you let out a scream of pleasure. There’s a new sensation as your orgasm hits, the feeling of white-hot heat spreading through him. Happiness, love, every positive feeling ever shoots through him and the spasms of your cunt around his cock, prematurely sets off his orgasm. He has wanted to draw another two or three from you before his end but he can’t hold it back.

He roars out, even the way your climax muffled your hearing you heard him. You’ve never heard anything like that, the sound was primal, animalistic. Your breathing slows and you lower your head to look at him, he’s staring back at you, looking completely fucked out, but so do you.

“You okay baby?” Bucky asks, breathing heavily and pulling your face towards him so he can kiss you. You can’t even speak, you just about nod before he lifts you off the wall and carries you over to the bed. He lays you down and pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, which makes you whine. He goes into your en suite and grabs a washcloth to clean you up, before joining you on the bed. He pulls you close and you snuggle into his warm body, your hand rests on his chest, just above his heart.

Happiness blooms in his chest once more, a content feeling. He realises that you’re projecting onto him with your abilities but you’re too out of it to realise. The feeling is one of pureness, a feeling of love. Bucky realises he has had this feeling before, many times, the first time was the day he met you. He really did feel love at first sight, he didn’t think it was possible but it happened. And now you both knew how the other felt, there’s no way he was going to go back to the way it was. And you’re not leaving SHIELD. Not unless he leaves with you, because from now on, you are one.

THE END?

Posted 23/04/2024

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #ladymunson #Bucky Barnes x female reader #18+ only

253 notes · View notes

joelmillerisapunk · 3 days

Text

Beach Daddy II. Jet skis and the ocean breeze

Rich daddy!Joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist • Masterlist

Wordcount: 8,173

Summary: You and Joel have some alone time.

Warnings: 18+, some cute reader and Joel moments, mentions of cheating and parental loss, falling into the water and struggling.

Notes: Welcome back babes 😘 hope you enjoy. Comments and any feedback are always so welcome. Thanks for reading ily.

You wake up the next morning, feeling refreshed and excited about your first day on the ocean. Sometime during the early morning hours, someone slipped an itinerary under your door. As you read it, you can't help the pang of dread you feel when you see that Sarah has planned the whole day out for you, and you will be spending all day with Todd.

At least you have a few hours before you are expected at the poolside brunch starting at 10:00. So you call down for coffee to be sent to your room, and as you wait, you go to the sliding door to the balcony and open it to let the sound of the waves take over your room.

You get dressed in a pair of shorts and your favorite top. Before you have time to finish your makeup, there is a knock at your door announcing your coffee has arrived.

"Good morning, Miss," says the pool boy Sarah had snapped at the day before. He’s carrying a coffee tray holding a glass coffee decanter, cream and sugar, and a plate full of fruit. You love that each time you've called down for something simple, the staff adds something extra.

"Good morning; I don't think I caught your name yesterday," you say.

"It's Derek, Miss. Where would you like me to put this?"

"If you could put it on the balcony for me, I would really appreciate it. It looks amazing."

"Of course," Derek says as he makes his way onto the balcony. You don't think you will ever get used to this level of service.

"Thank you so much, Derek," you say, and he responds with a smile. You don't think the staff is used to Sarah's guests calling them by name.

You quickly finish getting ready for the day and make your way to the small breakfast table before your coffee gets too cold. In the light of the morning, you can see the ocean rather than just hear it like the night before. You watch the water closely as you take your time, sipping your coffee and enjoying the sweetest fruits you have ever tasted. You hope, at some point on the trip, you will be able to catch a glimpse of a dolphin. You've always thought they were beautiful creatures.

Five minutes before 10:00, you accept your fate, slip on your sandals, and make your way out to the pool deck. Smaller tables are set up around the pool, each only allowing two to four occupants. You sit at an empty table, happy that you don't have to make small talk.

You place your order with a waiter and sit in silence, watching the rest of the group. Many of them are clearly very hung over from the night before.

The blond, Hudson, has his head resting on the table, not responding to Megan, who is talking to him nonstop. A girl with short black hair sits next to them, carefully working on an omelet, shooting dirty looks at Megan, who must have been talking too loudly.

The group must have stayed at the dinner party drinking until the early hours of the morning. You're happy you were able to slip away. Even though you had that awkward run-in with Mr. Miller, your night ended up a lot better once you were alone in your room.

As soon as your mango mimosa is set on the table, the chair next to you is pulled out. You look up and are surprised to see Todd sitting next to you.

"So, Sarah tells me that you two lived together at NYU. What did you study there?" Todd says, continuing his game.

You look around for Sarah and shoot a glare at Todd when you notice she isn't on the deck yet. "You know exactly what I studied, Todd."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he says with a wicked glint in his eyes. Why had you never seen past his fake smile before now?

Todd leans over and whispers, "You look good, babe. That’s always been your color.”

You could have slapped him, and you might have if Sarah hadn't walked up right at that moment and sat on the other side of Todd. She looks flawless, like always, in a perfectly fitted sundress.

"Hey! You really missed out on a great party last night. Adrian nearly fell into the pool in her dress," Sarah says.

"Wow, it really does sound like I missed out. I had a headache, so I snuck out early, but I won't miss a thing today," you say and take a big sip of your drink.

"Daddy, come sit with us!" Sarah squeals. You nearly choke on your drink, but luckily, you have time to compose yourself as Mr. Miller makes his way to your table.

"This is my old roommate from NYU. Unfortunately, you didn't get to meet her last night."

"Nice to meet you, darlin’," Mr. Miller says with a smirk sneaking onto his lips. He raises one eyebrow playfully. "I hope everything and everyone on the ship has been to your liking."

"Everything has been wonderful, thank you," you say. You wish you could hide under the table instead.

"Mr. Miller, what do you think of the new design of aircraft that AmeriAir just revealed?" Todd says, breaking Mr. Miller's eye contact with you. You look over at Todd and realize that he has witnessed the strange moment between you and Sarah's dad.

"It seems like it will be a great little plane. I'm interested to see how it does in this market," Mr. Miller says, and the conversation steers towards his new airline.

Of course, you know that he's wealthy, but as breakfast continues, you quickly realize that his kind of wealth is more than you can even imagine. You try not to look impressed as he talks because you keep catching the look Todd is giving you out of the corner of your eye. Even in front of Sarah, he can't control himself.

It's hard not to be impressed by Sarah's father. Not only is he wealthy, but he is extremely attractive. You could have watched the way his lips moved all morning. Sarah would catch you making googly eyes at her father if you didn't get yourself out of there. You scan the deck for an escape route when you notice Reggie sitting alone at one of the tables.

You slide your chair back and stand as casually as you can manage while saying excuse me to the table. You quickly take a seat next to him, and he looks up from his breakfast.

"Hey, Reggie. Can I ask you for a huge favor?"

"Of course. What do you need?" he asks.

"Is there somewhere quiet the rest of the guests don't know about?"

"I know the perfect place," Reggie smiles and quickly gives you directions. You stand, ready to go to this secret spot before anyone notices you are gone.

"Where are you going?"

You turn to find Sarah walking over to you. "We're all heading to the sauna."

“That sounds great, Sarah. I’ll head back to my room and change.” This is the perfect opportunity to slip away from the group for a while.

Sarah smiles. "I'm headed that way, too. When you're done, the Sauna is on B deck towards the front of the ship."

—

You enter your room and change into a swimsuit. You throw your shorts back on overtop and grab a book from your luggage. You quickly make your way out of your room, ensuring you don't run into Sarah.

You carefully avoid the sauna and head to the very back of the ship, just as Reggie suggested. You enter the dining room and step out onto the balcony. The balcony leads to a secluded deck with two lounge chairs. On the table between the two chairs is a pitcher full of lemonade and a couple of glasses.

Reggie must have arranged for this to be brought here for you.

You make yourself comfortable and try to read the book you've brought with you, but the sound of the waves at the back of the boat is so loud. You have a hard time keeping your eyes open, so you set the book down on your chest and let the sun warm your face.

Just as you're about to drift off to sleep, a shadow blocks the sun from your face.

"Seems like you found my hiding place. You must've had the same idea," a deep voice says, and you open your eyes.

"Mr. Miller!" You sit up, fully awake.

He sits down on the lounge chair next to you, leans back, and places his hands behind his head.

"Call me Joel.”

—

As Joel rounds the corner, he's surprised to see your hair flowing off the back of the lounge chair. You look so relaxed that he feels guilty invading your solace, but he can't leave now. If you notice him leaving, he'd make an even bigger fool of himself than he'd done the night before.

"Mr. Miller, I don't know if -" You start.

"Please, I insist," Joel says before you can finish.

"Alright," you answer with a small smile. "I am so sorry if I took your hiding spot. I needed some time to myself, so your intern, Reggie, told me how to get here."

"You can stay as long as you'd like, darlin. Do you mind if I hide out here with you, though?" Joel asks.

You laugh lightly, "It is your boat - Joel."

"True, but finders keepers, right," Joel says, looking over at you and winking. Then, you laugh a real laugh, making him want to say anything to hear you laugh again.

"It would be nice to have some company. Reggie sent out some lemonade. Would you like some?" You ask as you sit up and start filling the two glasses.

Reggie told Joel about his run-in with you the night before and how he'd tried to smooth over his terrible blunder. He made sure he helped you back to your room, and now he was helping you find all the best spots on the ship. He was really going out of his way for you. Joel couldn't help wondering if the boy had a crush on you.

You hand Joel a glass, and he has to stop himself from staring at you in your swimsuit. Reggie would be crazy if he didn't have a bit of a crush on you.

"So you and Sarah met at NYU?" Joel asks.

"Yeah, we were roommates during our undergrad. After that, I stayed to get my master's degree in political science. I just graduated, so this trip came at the perfect time."

"Wow, congratulations. Do you know what you’re gonna do with your degree yet?" Joel is impressed. He had begged Sarah to continue school, even bribing her with a new convertible, but she flat out refused.

"I was actually accepted into Harvard Law. I’ll be starting this upcoming fall semester," you answer rather sheepishly.

You are unlike Sarah's other friends, most of whom live off of trust funds.

"That's real impressive, darlin. My father pushed me to get my degrees in finance, but had I chosen for myself, I like to think I would’ve gone to law school," Joel says. "I don't know if I woulda been able to do it, though. It takes a lot of effort and determination to become a lawyer."

You sigh a little, "I do spend most of my time studying, but one day, it will be worth it."

"I couldn't agree more. That just means you'll have to take every second you can before your next semester to relax, " Joel says.

"That's the idea. It's really why I said yes to Sarah's invitation. I just hope I can find time to relax between everything she has scheduled. I can't really keep up with the partying her friends are used to."

"Now that you mention it, how is it that you and Sarah became friends? You two don't seem to have very similar interests," Joel says.

You laugh again, and Joel can't help but smile.

"Sarah and I did spend our free time very differently, but she knew how to get me to get out and have fun. So I guess she really helped me find a balance between school and having a life."

It's nice to hear someone talk so positively about Sarah. Joel hopes that during this trip, if his daughter spends more time with you, he will get to see more of that side of her. The kind side that Sarah often hides in favor of popularity.

"Well, I'm real glad Sarah invited you to join us."

You quickly return to your glass of lemonade, feeling almost embarrassed, and you sit in companionable silence for a few minutes.

"So, what do you think of Todd?" Joel asks. "It's unlike Sarah to bring a guy to meet me, so this relationship must be important to her."

You're taking a long time to respond, so Joel figures you haven't heard him. He turns to look at you, but you're looking down, purposely not meeting his eyes. "Are you okay?"

You ignore his second question and say, "Um, he seems to make Sarah very happy." You still refuse to meet his gaze as you get to your feet and grab your book off of the table.

Joel is confused by the sudden shift in the conversation, and he hopes he hasn't made another blunder.

"I think I'm going to go back to my room and lay down before the party. Thank you again for sharing your hideout with me," you say.

"Of course. Please, use it any time you want."

Finally, you look at him and, with a weak smile, say, "I will. I enjoyed talking with you, Joel."

"I enjoyed talkin’ with you too. I’ll see you later darlin," Joel says.

You nod and walk away, clutching your book to your chest.

Joel can't help but to watch you as you walk away. There’s something different about you that is intriguing.

He’s not used to women who are beautiful, reserved, and kind. Usually, when a woman he’s talking with finds out how much money he has, it's all he can do to escape from them. Not being able to find someone genuine is the main reason he never dated anyone long-term. There is nothing he hates more than someone trying to get to know him for access to his wealth. Sarah’s mother was the first and only woman to fool Joel into thinking she was someone she wasn't because she wanted him for his money.

Joel closes his eyes and leans back in the lounge chair. He’s positive that the conversation he had with you was genuine. He gets the feeling that there is nothing about you that isn't one hundred percent genuine.

Lost in thought, Joel doesn't hear the footsteps behind him.

"Oh, hello, sir."

Joel turns to see Reggie standing behind the two lounge chairs, looking confused.

"Reggie, I need to thank you for looking after Sarah's guests. You really have gone above and beyond what is expected. You’re doing a remarkable job."

"No problem, sir," he says with a sheepish grin.

"That reminds me to show you those sales reports from last quarter. If you could email Pam, she will get those sent over. Oh, sorry, is there somethin’ you need from me?" Joel asks.

"No, sir, I was just looking for - never mind. I will go get those reports ready. Please excuse me." Reggie says and turns to go.

Joel is confused by the interaction until he looks down at the pitcher of lemonade and the two glasses. You did say that Reggie sent up the lemonade for you, but he sent you two glasses. Joel realizes he had probably intruded on a moment Reggie set up. The thought that Reggie wants your attention shouldn't bother Joel, but it does. It bothers Joel more than he cares to admit.

He remains on the lounge chair, replaying his conversation with you over again in his head.

Finally, after an hour, he decides its probably time he rejoins the guests. Sarah is planning a cocktail party for that evening, and Joel needs to check with the staff that everything is running smoothly. Sarah had ordered an ice sculpture to be made in her image, and she told Joel she would 'die of embarrassment' if it didn't turn out. Joel plans to go check it before she can. That way, if there is a problem, Joel will be the one to deal with it, and Sarah won't get a chance to terrorize his staff.

As Joel exits the dining room on his way to the kitchen, he hears his name being called from the other end of the hall.

"Mr. Miller! I've been looking for you," Todd says.

Joel turns towards him, wondering what you aren't telling him about Todd.

"I was hoping I could have a word with you, sir. Alone.”

—

You wake up on the fourth day of the trip to a fantastic view. Wrapping a robe around yourself, you make your way to the balcony. The yacht is no longer moving; it must have come into port sometime during the night. You're docked at a tropical island with white sand beaches lined with palm trees.

A squeal of excitement threatens to escape you. Sarah told you yesterday that you'd be going on a private luxury catamaran dolphin tour. You've always wanted to see a dolphin in the wild. Even being stuck on a smaller boat with Todd all day seems worth it.

You've become quite creative in finding ways to avoid Todd each day. You still attend every planned activity but manage to sneak away and spend some time relaxing. On a few occasions, Reggie saves you from talking to the other members of the group.

You've had a few decent conversations with Alison, the woman in your group with short black hair. You like her far better than Megan, who's caught up in impressing Hudson. Megan is one of those people who puts others down to get a laugh. Unfortunately, you've been the subject of too many of her jokes for you to want to get to know her any better.

But no conversation could match up to the one you had with Sarah's father, Joel. It was also the only conversation you kept thinking about; you have to be careful whenever he's around not to stare too much. Joel, like you, usually joins the group for a while but slips away as soon as he knows he won't be missed.

Quickly getting dressed in shorts and T-shirt over the top of your bikini, you head to the dining room for breakfast before you board the catamaran.

You're the first one there, as you should have remembered that to Sarah and her friends, on time is actually early.

You sit next to one of the windows overlooking the island and place your breakfast order. Each meal is prepared by a private chef who makes the best food you've ever tasted.

The waiter brings over your latte while you wait for your lobster frittata.

You sip at your drink and watch the tropical birds flying over the ocean. Joel fills the chair across from you, breaking your trance. You look over and smile at him.

"Mornin, darlin," Joel says, returning your smile. Your stomach does a small flip as his eyes meet yours.

"Good morning," you say, glad that you picked one of the smaller tables that only has room for two.

"This has got to be my favorite place to stop. It's a quiet little island between Florida and the Bahamas. The locals are amazing, and the restaurants are to die for."

"It is absolutely beautiful," you say wistfully.

"So, what does Sarah have planned for you today?" Joel asks.

"She has a private catamaran dolphin tour planned," you say, and your tone conveys how badly you're looking forward to it.

"Oh, that will be an enjoyable day. You seem excited about the dolphins."

"I have loved dolphins ever since I was little. My parents even bought me a little stuffed animal dolphin that I carried everywhere with me. I named it Dolly," you say and then quickly stop talking.

The memory of the loss of your parents still stings, and you do your best not to talk about it.

"Have you ever gotten to see one in real life?" Joel asks you with a slightly amused look on his face, probably imagining you with the little dolphin doll.

"No. There is a pod that lives year-round off the coast of Maine where my grandpa lives, but he doesn't get out much. So I never got the chance." You're not quite as happy now as you were before as thoughts of how much you miss your family fill your mind.

Joel remains quiet. You hope he won't ask why your parents never took you. You don't want to explain about them passing away. However, you're saved when your food arrives, which gives you time to change the subject before he can ask. "You'll have to help me spot the dolphins while we are on the catamaran today," you say, hoping to sound innocent.

Joel's face falls, "I'm afraid I have some business that I really have to attend to. I won't be able to make it."

"Oh," you say, trying not to sound disappointed. You had been hoping to spend some more time with him. He's one of the only people here you like to talk to.

"I'd love to hear about your first dolphin sighting when you get back, though," he says, running a hand through his hair.

"I'll make sure I get some good pictures," you respond with a small smile. You would love the opportunity to speak to him again, and that would be the perfect excuse.

Your conversation continues as more members of the group finally turn up. When you finish your meal, Joel excuses himself and heads to his private office on the yacht.

You're sad to see him go but fight the urge to watch him walk away. Instead, you focus your eyes on the ocean, imagining what it would be like to see a dolphin leap out of the water.

Sarah is the last to arrive at breakfast, wearing another glamorous bikini with a matching sheer coverup.

She spends a few minutes sitting near Megan chatting away while she eats. Then, she says the words you've been waiting for. "The catamaran is waiting!" Sarah squeals, lifting her mimosa into the air.

With a smile, you hop up, finally eager to take part in one of the activities.

—

A man dressed in a light blue polo hands you a glass of champagne as you board the catamaran. As the captain sets sail, you quickly find a spot next to the railing.

Sarah and Todd immediately find the net forming a hammock between the two hulls and claim it for themselves. You drain your glass of champagne and turn your eyes to the ocean, constantly scanning for any movement.

The party continues on around you, and Sarah and Todd are getting more and more handsy as the cruise continues. The crew members have turned on music, and the group is dancing, drinking, and enjoying themselves.

You keep your focus on the water and try your best to ignore your ex with his tongue down your friend's throat. You grab another glass of champagne as one of the servers walks by and sample some of the hors d'oeuvres until you accidentally eat a dip that turns out to be caviar. You're not a fan.

After a while, you notice that you've turned around and are on a reef not far from the yacht. Your heart sinks as the captain stops the boat. Hudson and Todd jump into the water and try to get the girls to jump in.

"Excuse me," you say to get the attention of the man in the blue polo.

"Yes, miss? Can I get you another glass of champagne?" he answers.

"No, I'm fine, thank you. I was just wondering if you could let me know when we will start looking for the dolphin pod again?" You ask.

"I'm sorry, but Miss Miller is getting bored of looking for the dolphins and has ordered the captain to stop so everyone can do some snorkeling and swimming. We can't resume our tour until Miss Miller gives us the go-ahead. This area is great for snorkeling, though; you can see a lot of wildlife swimming in the coral," he says with a sympathetic smile.

"I see. Thank you," you say, turning away from the man, trying to keep the tears of disappointment from welling up in your eyes.

You had been so close, and the thought of leaving without seeing a single dolphin is heartbreaking.

You hear screams of excitement behind you, and you head to the swim deck and dangle your feet in the water. Todd has convinced Sarah to jump in the water, and he is now kissing her while they are both treading water. He'd never been that romantic when he was dating you; you guess he was too busy cheating on you to show you that kind of attention.

You know you probably should have given up on your hope of seeing a dolphin, but you continue to scan the surrounding water. You notice a jet ski in the distance, and it comes closer and closer to the catamaran. As the rider gets closer, you realize it’s Joel. He pulls his jet ski next to you.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, we couldn't find the dolphins, though," you try but fail to keep the disappointment out of your voice.

"Really?" Joel says, watching you closely.

"No, everyone was getting bored of looking, so Sarah had the captain stop so we could snorkel over the reef," you say while you watch your feet kick back and forth in the water. You look over at the group, all swimming on the reef, and notice Todd watching your interaction closely.

"I bet we could find them. There's a cove not far from here that I know the dolphins have been spotted in before. We could ride over there together."

You look up at him with a bit of hope in your eyes. "Are you sure?" you ask, shocked at his offer.

"Darlin, I don't want you to miss out on seeing the dolphins. Come with me," Joel says, holding out his hand to you.

So, you reach out and grab his hand with a smile on your face. He helps you off of the swim deck and onto the back of the jet ski.

"Let's go find those dolphins," he says.

You take off, and you have to grab around Joel's waist to stay on the jet ski. You nearly jump when his skin meets yours. It's only then that you realize Joel is shirtless. You instinctively want to slide closer to him, to press your body against his muscular back. You constantly have to work to fight that urge. He’s your friend's dad, you scream at yourself internally. You switch your attention back to the water. The water is crystal clear and calm. Looking off the side of the jet ski, you can see to the bottom in some places. You pass over colorful sea life that is so captivating that it almost takes your mind off of Joel's muscular back.

Almost.

"There's a cove just up here where the dolphins are known to spend time. A boat would have a hard time getting back there, especially one the size of the catamaran, but this jet ski will be a perfect fit," Joel yells over the sound of the running jet ski.

"I can't thank you enough for trying to help me. It really means a lot."

You continue at a fast pace in the direction of the cove until you get close enough that you can see the narrow inlet. Joel slows the jet ski, and you coast into the cove. The circular cove is surrounded on all sides by beaches that ease into cliff faces. The cove is completely cut off from everything; you understand why the dolphins would find this place appealing. Joel cuts the engine, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore takes over.

"I have never seen anything like this," you say, staring around. "The water is so - blue."

"I stumbled upon it when I was a teenager. My dad was teaching me how to sail. He thought the best way for me to learn was to figure it out by myself." Joel chuckles under his breath. "He sent me out on a small sailboat all alone, and I got caught in a current and pushed in here," Joel says, a bit more seriously.

"That must have been terrifying," you say.

"It was. I sat on the boat for a long time, using every curse word I knew, and aimed them all at my father. After that, my anger started to turn to panic; I had no idea how I was going to get back or if anyone would be able to find me in this cove. Then I noticed the water rippling next to me," he says. "It was a big group of dolphins, and I watched them play and forgot about my problems. After they swam away, I was calm enough to figure out how to get myself back to the dock," Joel says, staring into the water.

"That’s an amazing story," you say, watching the creases on his brow relax. It seems as though the memory is very bitter sweet for him.

"It was a big turning point for me. I watched my parents be unhappy with each other for years, and their unhappiness trickled down to how they treated me," he says with a sigh. "The dolphins seemed so happy and were so in tune with each other. I swore to myself I would have a different kind of marriage and family life than my parents did."

You sit quietly for a long time, the sound of the soft waves lapping against the side of the jet ski. You find yourself still pressed against him, though you let your arms drop. You catch yourself constantly looking at him. It's undeniable at this point, you want Joel. You can't help but wonder if that is why he isn't with Sarah's mom, but you don't dare ask.

"My parents tried to take me to see dolphins in the wild. They planned an amazing trip for my sixteenth birthday. They were going to take me to San Diego, and we were going to stay in this cute little beach house."

"But you didn't get to go?" Joel asks.

"They were going to surprise me with it, but they never got the chance. They got in a head-on collision with a drunk driver on their way home from picking up takeout. I found the tickets and travel plans in an envelope in my mom's nightstand," you say. You feel comfortable sharing part of your past after Joel was so open with you. A very small number of people knew about your parents passing, but you feel safe with him.

"Baby girl I'm so sorry," Joel says and then pauses, clearly not knowing what to say.

"Thank you. It was a few years ago, but I still miss them every day," you say. The silence returns as you continue to scan the water. "Joel, look!" You nearly throw yourself backward off of the jet ski because you see a ripple of green-grey under the water.

"It looks like you are going to get your wish, darlin," he says with a huge smile on his face. It seems as though he is enjoying your excitement more than watching the dolphins.

A large pod has entered the cove and is swimming all around the jet ski. The water is so clear that you can see each dolphin individually. Some are playing a game of chase with each other. There are mamas with their babies swimming close to them. Others are even brave enough to come close to the jet ski, investigating what you are.

"They are common bottlenose dolphins. Oh, look over there, Joel!" You squeal in delight as two younger dolphins that are racing each other jump out of the water. "I so badly want to get in and swim with them, but I am afraid it will scare them away," you say.

"Their beauty is best observed from a distance. If you try to move too fast, it can ruin what's happening in the now," he responds quietly.

He says it so quietly that you wonder if you weren't supposed to hear him.

You sit and watch the dolphins play for almost an hour until they are ready to go, and they make their way out of the cove. "That was the most incredible thing I've seen in my entire life," you say breathlessly.

"I was thinking the same thing," Joel responds, but he is staring at you.

"I don't know if I've ever been this happy before. I'm so happy I could kiss you," the words escape your mouth before you can stop them.

Joel laughs, "Don't get my hopes up."

You smile but quickly look away. Your face feels like it's on fire. Joel kindly gives you a few minutes to recover and for your face to stop burning.

"Would it be horrible if I said I'm not ready to go back and join the rest of the group yet?" you ask.

Joel laughs, "It might be, but I agree with you."

He starts the engine again, but instead of heading out of the cove, he takes you to the beach at the far end of the cove.

He takes your hand and helps you down into the water. It's up to your waist when you jump down, and you wade to the beach while Joel anchors the jet ski.

You let your feet sink into the hot sand. It clings to your feet and legs as you sit down and rest your weight on your elbows. Joel walks over to join you and stretches out next to you. You both sit in silence and let the waves hit your feet.

"Did you ever go sailing again after what happened when you found the cove?" you ask.

"I didn't sail again for a long time. I resented my dad, so I purposely hated everything he loved. He loved to sail, so I refused to do it," he says with a small smile. "That's actually why I started my own business ventures in air travel. Flying always terrified my father, so I picked a business he would have no interest in."

"But you did sail again, right?"

"I did in my late twenties, only when my dad was out of town. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he was right," he answers.

You laugh lightly with Joel and return your attention to the cove. You want to take a mental picture of everything. You hope that when you look back on today, you will be able to remember exactly how you felt.

"I don't know how I will ever repay you for such a perfect day," you say.

"You don't owe me anything. I'm just glad you’re enjoying yourself."

"I will find a way," you say defiantly with a smirk.

"You are not what I expected, darlin," he says.

You laugh, "I hope that's a good thing."

Joel slides his hand toward yours and brushes your pinky finger with his. A jolt of hope rushes through you. You want to grab his hand but settle for the brief touch of your fingers against each other.

"It’s a very good thing. To be completely honest, I was dreading this trip after Sarah invited all of her friends. But, my time getting to know you has been well worth it," Joel says.

You slowly slide your hand away from his after he mentions Sarah. It's so easy to forget that Joel is Sarah's dad when you're alone together. However, that doesn't change reality. Are you awful for finding him so irresistible?

"It's probably best if we head back. We're all having dinner together at one of my favorite restaurants on the island. I think you're gonna love it," Joel says while getting to his feet. "Do you want to drive the jet ski back? I’d be happy to teach you if you'd like," he says with a hint of mischief behind his smile.

"I don't know. I've never driven anything like that before. Are you sure you trust me not to tip us both in the ocean?" you say with a shy grin.

"I trust you. Plus, I'm a strong swimmer," he says with a wink. He reaches his hand down to help you to your feet.

Before grabbing his hand, you pick up a small pink shell sitting next to you on the beach and slip it into your cover-up. You want something to remind you of the day and seeing the dolphins.

—

"This lever here is the gas, and you steer just like you would with the handlebars on a bike," Joel says from behind you on the jet ski. "Just take it nice and slow out of the cove. You can get up to a higher speed when we get to open water, and you feel more comfortable," he continues.

You can feel his warm breath on the side of your neck, and it sends goosebumps all across your body. You imagine his lips pressing to your neck where his breath is warming. You wonder what his hands would feel like on your body -

"Ready?"

"Oh, um, sorry, what?" You say, pulling yourself out of your daydream.

"Are you ready to go?" Joel says with a small chuckle. You're glad he's sitting behind you, so he can't see your face.

"Yes, I think so," you say with slight hesitation.

"Don't worry, I'm right here," he assures you. "Just take it slow."

You ease your thumb on the throttle, and slowly, you start moving. You remain at a snail-like pace until you're completely out of the cove and a bit beyond.

"Try givin’ it a bit more gas," Joel says softly next to your ear.

You aren't prepared for your stomach fluttering at Joel's closeness and not thinking clearly you hit the throttle way too hard. Your hand slips from the throttle, and with a rush of air beneath you, you go sailing through the air. A moment after you hit the ocean, you hear a second splash and know you've thrown Joel off of the jet ski, too.

As you sink into the water, you begin to panic. You can't tell which way the surface is. You fight to swim to the surface, disoriented and fighting for air. With a gasp, you emerge from the water and look around frantically for Joel. He pops out of the water next to you.

"Joel, I am so sorry! Are you okay?" You ask.

Joel's mouth breaks into a giant smile, and he starts laughing. He laughs one of those deep, uncontrollable laughs; he has finally relaxed enough to truly let go. You can't help but start laughing, too.

"See, that's why you have to wear the kill cord on your wrist. That way, if you fall off, the jet ski doesn't keep going without you," he says and starts swimming over to the empty jet ski.

You start swimming after him and watch him as he pulls himself back onto the jet ski. His back muscles flex as he gets back on, and the water droplets dripping down his body emphasize the definition between each muscle. You can't help but imagine running your hands down his back as he hovers over the top of you.

Joel reaches his hand down to pull you back on the watercraft. You have to catch your imagination before you let it wander off too far. He pulls you up effortlessly, and you sit down behind him.

"I think I'm going to let you drive us back now."

"Are you sure you don't want to take the reins again?" he says, gesturing to the handlebars.

"I think it'll be safer if I let you take over. It seems like I only have two speeds," you say with a small chuckle.

"Fine, but we're going to have you driving one of these like a pro before this vacation is over," Joel says with a small smile. You wrap your arms around his waist, and he sets off.

As Joel drives, you replay watching the dolphins swim in the cove. You're so distracted that it isn't until he stops the jet ski that you realize he hasn't gone back to the same dock where the yacht is waiting for you. Instead, you're at the edge of a small coastal town, where each side of the streets is lined with the glowing lights of shops and restaurants.

"Oh, I thought we would go back to the yacht before dinner. I can't exactly go to dinner dressed like this," you say, gesturing to your very wet swimsuit that is clinging to your body.

Joel looks you up and down and smiles, "I don't think you would hear many complaints, but don't worry, we can stop at one of the shops and get you something dry."

Your heart sinks. You have very limited funds, and getting new clothes is definitely not in your budget. Not wanting to admit this, you nod your head and follow Joel down the street. You'll have to pay him back because you haven't brought any money with you.

Joel leads the way into a boutique called, AmoreBelle, and you can already tell from the window displays that the store is way out of your price range.

The smell of fresh lavender drifts out through the door as soon as it opens. The walls and floors are the brightest white, so all of the customer's attention is drawn to the glamorous dresses hanging on the racks. You feel so out of place in your simple and very wet clothes. You pray that you won't drip on their floors.

"Well, hello, welcome back," says a saleswoman as she comes to greet you. She smiles at Joel, clearly recognizing him.

"Jane, s’good to see you still work here. This is my friend," Joel says, introducing you. "I need you to help her find some new outfits. As you can see, we need to get her out of these wet clothes."

"Anything for you. I already have some great pieces in mind that will go perfectly with her hair. I will go get you a room started, hun," Jane says and walks away.

"I'm going to head over to the men's store next door, but I think you should try this one," he says as he grabs a cocktail dress in a deep midnight blue and hands it to you.

"Your room is right this way," Jane says and gestures for you to follow her.

"I'll see you soon," Joel says and turns to leave, but before walking out the door, he stops to talk to one of the other women on the sales floor. She immediately starts gathering dresses off of the racks.

You walk around the corner, and there is a pedestal in the middle of the room surrounded by mirrors and changing room doors. You've watched TV shows where women try on wedding dresses in a setting similar to this, but you never imagined yourself in a place like this.

"I put some things for you to try in the first room on the right. Can I get you anything? Champagne?" the woman asks.

“That sounds lovely,” you say while trying to hide your shaking hands. You turn and shut the door of your changing room as soon as the saleswoman leaves. The changing room is already lined with outfits for you to try on. You take a deep breath before looking at the price tag on the dress Joel had handed you. You could have cried and probably would have had it not been for a soft knock on the door. You open the door, and the saleswoman Joel spoke to before leaving is standing there, with her arms full of elegant dresses.

"Mr. Miller asked me to make sure you leave in a semi-formal dress. I brought some great options. My name is McKenzie." she says as she starts hanging up the dresses on the hooks in the dressing room.

"Thanks," you answer. You consider running out the door and waiting by the jet ski until Joel returns, but you know you will have to explain eventually.

"Well, please let me know if you need anything."

"Actually, McKenzie. I have something to confess," you say nervously.

McKenzie looks confused but lets you continue.

"Everything in this dressing room is way out of my price range. Honestly, I probably couldn't afford a pair of underwear."

McKenzie smiles and giggles a little. Your face drops; you can't believe she is laughing at you for being broke.

"I am so sorry. I am not laughing at you; I totally understand your concern. I just figured you already knew. You don't have to be able to afford anything here."

"What do you mean?" You ask, still confused.

"Joel already has everything covered. He told me I am not allowed to let you leave this store until you have found a dress and at least ten new outfits," McKenzie says, amused with the shocked look on your face.

"I can't possibly go along with this," you say, your voice cracking.

"You have to. If you don't, we won't earn any commission." McKenzie leans closer and whispers, "I can't afford the underwear here either."

You are uncomfortable with the idea of Joel spending so much money on you, but you refuse to be the reason that these women miss out on a huge commission. You immediately feel better, knowing you have much in common with McKenzie and possibly Jane.

"Okay, where do we start?" you say with a small sigh of defeat.

"Let's start with the everyday outfits and move on to the gowns after," she says and then adds, "Oh, we can also spend some time looking at the underwear if you'd like."

That's when you realize how this must look to these saleswomen and how it would look to anyone. You start to wonder how many other women he's done this for; the saleswomen seem used to this type of thing. You quickly push the thought out of your mind. It doesn't matter what this looks like; Joel is just a kind person. Plus, there is no way he would be interested in someone like you.

After many outfit changes and finding more new clothes than you've bought for yourself in an entire year, all that is left to pick out is a dress. McKenzie and Jane have outdone themselves in giving you beautiful options. You try on every single one and are met with many compliments from the sales team as you model them on the platform in the center of the dressing rooms.

Jane refills your glass of champagne and asks, "Have you decided which one you want to go with?"

"I have one more left to try on before I decide," you say and slip back into the changing room.

As soon as you put on Joel's choice, you know it is the one. The midnight blue silk slides over every inch of your body like it is molded specifically for you. The dress brushes the floor, but a slit up one side makes it easy to move in.

"Wow," two voices behind you say in unison.

"I'll take this one.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal #joel miller smut

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