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assassinsblade · 3 months

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Arrows and Ashes | 2

Azriel must balance his need for vengeance and his need to take care of you.

WC: 4.3k

Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, gross gore, injury, violence, blood, vomit, all that kind of stuff, fluff too though.

a/n: Holy shit everyone, the response to Part 1 was incredible! Seriously! All your comments and thoughts and everything are what make me want to keep writing, so thank you!!

Part 1 Part 3

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If someone would have told Azriel when he woke up that morning that he would later be kneeling in front of your bloody body, begging you to stay awake, he would have locked you inside of the House of Wind so you couldn’t leave.

He would have never let you get out of bed that morning. He would have come up with some excuse to keep you safe near Velaris, safe near him.

But he hadn’t known. So when you and Cassian left that morning to meet with Autumn Court heir, he was only slightly nervous. He hated the idea of you being anywhere near Eris, but Cassian was there, and he trusted his brother to keep you safe. He trusted that he would see you in only a few hours, sitting across from him at the dinner table, giggling at something snarky Nesta threw at Cassian while picking at the food on your plate.

So when his and Rhysand's talk was interrupted by a letter arriving from Eris Vanserra, one that made Rhys tense in his silent reading, Azriel felt his panic start to rise.

The way his heart had stopped in his chest when Rhys had read the words on the paper aloud: Your two spies missed the meeting window outside of the forest cabin, and upon investigation, were found in the dungeons of my father's establishment. We are doing what we can for the one you call Daisy, but I would advise arriving to the forest cabin expeditiously and with a healer in tow.

Azriel hadn't even waited for Rhysand to respond. He had barely gotten the words out before Azriel was winnowing to the forest cabin, his blood rushing in his veins, making him lightheaded with panic and rage.

And when he had seen you there, lying on a wooden table, bare and vulnerable with nothing but gore and a light blanket covering your form? He had nearly collapsed.

Your eyes had been swollen and wet with tears, cheeks splotchy and bruised. Everything around you had been red. The blanket, with creamy white fibers of wool woven together, was soaked red along your back. The natural brown of the table underneath you dripped with the dark red falling from your form. Your hair matted with both old and new bright red blood.

Something Azriel saw so frequently, and red quickly became his least favorite color.

He had tried to comfort you, tried to soothe any pain you were feeling, but nothing seemed to work. Each sob, cry, whimper, and croak had cracked something in his chest, and he was sure irreparable damage was being done inside of him with the agony he felt from your state.

The memory of your body shaking from the pain, of what your back looked like when the blanket was pulled back, was what made Azriel immediately demand to see what had happened in that cell.

Cassian had at first refused, tears in his eyes, insisting it was something neither of his brothers should see or experience. But Rhys also demanded to see, if only so they could track down the three males who had been with you in the dungeons.

Azriel could feel the self-hatred coming off of Cassian in waves, but the general acquiesced, giving Rhys a short nod.

Then Azriel was watching his brother go into Cassian's mind. And as Rhysand tensed and paled, stumbling at what he was seeing, Azriel found himself breathing harder, attempting to prepare himself to see you hurt.

When Rhysand came to again, both he and Cassian had tears in their eyes. Rhys met Azriel's and gave him a cautious look. Azriel only nodded.

And then he was in the dungeons, seeing from Cassian's point-of-view.

He watched as the soldiers walked into the dungeons and shackled you to the wall. There were wounds already covering your body from what looked like whips and manual beatings, and Azriel wondered what Cassian or Rhys was omitting from these memories.

But his thoughts were cut short by the sight of a sword coming down on your wings and your back arching in pain. You didn't even make a noise, your mouth open in a silent scream and body scrambling to get away.

Blood sprayed everywhere, and the motions of the soldier hacking your wings off were haphazard and angry, but also uncaring and almost bored.

Azriel had never felt as heartbroken as he did then, watching you lose your wings, your screams beginning to echo through the cell.

Cassian was trying to get you to look at him, trying to remind you that he was there, that you weren't alone, but you were too far gone to the pain and torture.

When both of your wings were nothing but ripped off limbs on the ground behind you, and your body slumped into your own blood, piss, and vomit, Azriel had already committed the males' faces to his memory.

Your bare vulnerable form, twitching and mangled on that concrete floor, would forever haunt him.

"Her wings are gone," Cassian choked out when Azriel had finished seeing the memory. "And it's all my fault."

Rhys shook his head. "It's no more your fault than mine."

Azriel didn't say anything though, because all he could feel was the anger raging under his skin, begging to be let out, and he didn't want to say anything he'd regret to either of his brothers.

He was shaking, his body burning, vibrating with energy. He turned to the auburn-haired male leaning against the wall.

"Are there wards surrounding the dungeons?"

Eris smirked. "You don't think us foolish enough to leave our prisoners unguarded, do you?"

Azriel nearly growled, his patience running thin. You were unconscious on a hard blood-soaked table only feet away from him, and it was driving him insane, panic, anxiety, fear, grief all morphing in his chest and begging him to act, act, act, seek vengeance for Daisy.

"I swear on the Mother, Eris, I will-"

"Relax." Eris sighed, pulling himself from his position by the wall. "There are wards, but I can get you through them."

Azriel only continued watching him, because it was obvious by the way the Autumn male eyed him that he was not done speaking. "The only question is -- should I? Will my father not be more angry when three of his guards turn up dead? Why should I put my ass further on the line for you bastards?"

Before Azriel could kill him, Rhys interrupted. "Having the three guards dead only plays into your favor, Eris. Say Cassian killed them when escaping. Leave evidence hinting at Cassian overpowering them."

Eris rolled his eyes but didn't protest. Azriel was glad because he was one word away from cutting out his tongue.

The Autumn male did grumble, though, as he lowered the wards long enough for the shadowsinger to winnow in. But by that point Azriel was already humming with bloodthirst, already savoring the fear he was going to suck out of the males who had hurt you, who had taken your wings.

He would make them pay, he would make them bleed.

The first guard he came across, he recognized immediately. He had been one of the two to lift you into the shackles, to make sure you body hadn't slumped out of reach of the sword.

The feeling of Truth Teller piercing his throat gave Azriel a satisfaction he would be wary to admit. He wished the male had wings Azriel could peel off himself, taking his time and basking in each scream of pain that came out of his mouth.

Instead, Azriel used his dagger to slash across the male's skin as he choked on his own blood, unable to scream. He targeted the most sensitive parts of the body, twisting the sharp weapon, pulling out nerves and tendons where he could.

When his body fell to the floor, Azriel was unsatisfied. It had been too quick, and he needed more.

He kept moving, relishing in the blood coating his hands. His siphons gleamed a bright blue that warned of his approach, that told the others he was there to exact his revenge.

When he found the second male who was backing away from him with a look of pure fear in his eyes, Azriel nearly smirked. He walked slowly toward him, and the way the male's body trembled only reminded Azriel of you. His smirk immediately dropped, replaced by an animalistic urge to kill.

Azriel thought of your shackled wrists, the way you were bound and vulnerable, and immediately threw his dagger into the male's hand with such force it impaled into the wall behind him, lodging into the space where two stones cracked.

The male screamed, and Azriel welcomed it. It filled his chest with purpose, with justice, as he screamed louder. Azriel took his sword out and cut the males arm off in one motion.

Didn't feel too good losing a limb, did it?

He did the same with the male's other arm, his legs, and then finally his head, watching as it rolled to the concrete floor.

He kicked it out of his way before moving forward once more.

He had one more target, and this one he was going to make sure lasted long. You had been held captive for hours. Tortured for hours. And he was going to repay that action, just as he told you he would.

Azriel reached where you and Cassian had been kept, and the smell in the air nearly brought tears to his eyes. It smelled of fear. Of urine, as if you had been so terrified you couldn't control your own bladder, and of blood. It permeated the room, your despair, and Azriel's hair stood on end at the scent. It made him want to return to you, to hold you and make sure you were safe, to make sure you knew you were safe.

But as he eyed the shackles on the wall, the stained red on the ground, the discarded wings in the corner, he knew he needed to slaughter this last male before he returned home.

He shoved the image of your wings, bloody and mangled only feet away, out of his mind and moved forward.

He found the last male one more room over. He was prepared, a sword raised in defense as Azriel sauntered in. His siphons blazed brighter, ready to fight and make this male feel the same pain you did.

This was the one who had cut off your wings. And he was holding the very sword he used to do so.

Azriel felt his power rumbling within him, and all at once, almost out of his control, he threw it toward the male.

It slammed into him with the force of a mountain, slamming the male into the wall behind him with a crack. The male groaned, the sword clattering from his hands, and Azriel almost complained at how easy it was going to be to kill him.

He kicked the male's sword away once he reached him, not wanting to touch your dried blood coating its edge. It made his skin crawl, and he needed it out of his sight.

Kneeling down in front of the male, he pulled him forward by his ankle, dragging him to one of the cells in the room.

He thought of you bare and vulnerable, naked and bleeding, scared and trembling.

He thought of your flayed flesh, the blood dripping down onto the floor under the table, the charred skin of your back.

He thought of your screams, your cries, the way you heaved in pain.

Azriel snapped the shackle around the male's ankle.

He flipped Truth Teller around in his hand, gaining comfort from its weight. He would do some carving with it. The male didn't have wings, but he had other things he could take away from him. He would make him feel the same vulnerability you felt, the same fear and pain you felt. And when he was done, he would burn just as you did.

For once in his life, Azriel was excited to watch flesh catch on fire.

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When Azriel returned to the forest cabin, the only people remaining were Rhys and you.

You were still unconscious, and Azriel felt his heart beat painfully in his chest at the sight. Fortunately, the excess blood, dirt, and other bodily fluids seemed to have been cleaned off you, presumably by Rhys and his magic. You now only looked pale and weak, skin still bruised and healing its wounds.

Azriel, on the other hand, was coated in blood. His fingers dripped with it, his face was splattered with it, and if his leathers were any color other than black, they would have been dyed with the red of blood too.

Rhys eyed his appearance cautiously. “I take it they are dead?”

Azriel only nodded, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. His fight was over, but he was still restless, still searching for something to quell the anxiety in his chest.

“I took Cassian back to Velaris. Madja fixed up his wings, and he’s healing there.”

“Must be nice that his wings are fine,” Azriel spit out before he could stop himself.

He immediately felt guilty. It wasn’t Cassian’s fault. Cassian loved you as much as they all did, and those guards would have hurt you regardless of what Cassian had done or said.

Rhys gave him a hard look, his following words stern. “Yes, it is nice. You should also be grateful our brother is still alive.”

Azriel was quiet. He didn’t need a lecture or scolding right now. He didn’t need a high lord.

But he also didn’t know what he needed.

He turned to look at you, still laying on your stomach on the table.

“I was waiting for you to take her back home.” Rhys’ voice was softer as he watched the shadowsinger eye your form.

“She hasn’t woken up?” Azriel asked.

Rhys shook his head.

Azriel felt a pit form in his stomach as he walked toward you. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed even in your sleep, and he wondered if you could still feel any pain or if your mind was replaying traumatic memories while unconscious. The thought made him nauseous.

He reached out with a hand to lightly move the hair back from where it curled in front of your neck, but he paused seeing the blood coating his fingers.

The liquid matched the injuries on you, seemingly connected. Like a tether tied the red to the bruises on your cheekbones and undereyes, to the whip lashings on your arms, legs, and torso, to the haphazard gouges and burns on your back.

Azriel was grateful the blanket was covering the majority of your body, because just the bruises on your face made him feel weak. He was tempted to fall before you, to curl his body around your own and shield you from anyone else.

He would do anything to ensure not even a scratch was made on your skin again.

Rhysand eyed him from the other side of the room, watching Azriel hesitate to touch you.

"Let's get her home," Rhys spoke tiredly. As Azriel glanced at his red-rimmed violet eyes, he realized how emotionally drained everyone else must have been as well. "She'll be more comfortable there."

Azriel agreed. He couldn't imagine how sore you were going to be, and the wooden table underneath you was only going to aggravate your tired body. He wanted to wrap you in the softest blankets he could find, tuck you into his bed, and make sure you rested for days.

When he reached for you again, he noticed his hands were now clean. Rhys only nodded at him before Azriel could even thank him.

He eyed your bare shoulders peeking out from underneath the wool blanket and moved to grab the light nightgown presumably left by Eris. As much as he hated the male, he was grateful he had been mindful enough to grab you clothing, let alone clothing that was thin enough to not cause your injuries any irritation.

Azriel wrapped the blanket around your shoulders before pulling your body up to a sitting position. He then carefully pulled the nightgown over your head, gently moving your arms through the openings. Once in place, he readjusted the blanket around your body and picked you up into his arms.

Barely any time had passed, yet your body felt so different in his arms compared to the times he had carried you in the past. It was lighter -- a fact that caused pain to swarm in his chest as he realized it was due to your missing wings. It seemed more vulnerable as well. Fragile in such minimal clothing and covered in bruises and slashes and scars.

That protective instinct inside of him caused his scarred hands to grip you just a bit tighter.

Rhys approached, giving him an understanding look, and then you all were winnowing back to Velaris, back to your home.

As soon as he could feel the floor under his feet, Azriel was moving, filled with purpose. He needed you comfortable, he needed you warm, and he needed you safe.

So, he immediately made his way to his bedroom, not even sparing Rhys a glance or a goodbye. The high lord instead spoke into his mind: Madja left some healing tonics and creams on the counter. Directions are attached. Please keep me updated.

Taking note of that for later, Azriel laid you down onto his bed. He would have taken you to your own room, but he wanted somewhere he knew you would be safe. Somewhere he knew every inch of, somewhere he had fortified himself.

He turned you onto your stomach so as to not irritate the wounds on your back. In doing so, the wool blanket from Autumn slid from your body, and Azriel was left facing the bandages Madja had placed on your shoulder blades.

The sight of the white gauze caused Azriel to pause.

You had lost your wings.

Oh, Daisy.

Azriel slowly lowered himself to his knees beside his bed, needing a moment to compose himself before continuing to gather all the supplies he would need to care for you. Tears burned his eyes as he watched your back rise and fall with your breathing. He focused on that motion, on the reminder that you were here in his bed, alive.

He had never been more scared than when Rhys was reading that letter from Eris. When he had heard you had been hurt and that it was bad.

But there, kneeling before your battered body, Azriel was terrified all over again. You were safe now, living and breathing, but . . . he had no idea how he would fix this for you. There would no longer be any flights together during sleepless nights or teasing pokes or comments at each other's wings. No longer would he see your joyous smile when leaping from the House of Wind, allowing the wind to carry you to where you wanted to go.

Your wings had been so beautiful. Something he had admired from a young age, just like you.

He couldn't imagine losing his own wings, what it would do to him.

So, he was absolutely terrified at what you would face when waking up.

But he would be there, he vowed. He would do anything you needed. Anything you wanted, and it would be yours, and he would do it with a smile on his face and love in his heart.

Taking a deep breath, Azriel wiped his tears and rose from his position. He removed the blanket from Autumn, disliking the scent of it clinging to you in his bedroom, and instead pulled his covers over your shoulders.

Your face seemed more relaxed than it did while laying on that table, and he hoped you were comfortable, that your dreams were allowing you some peace.

It took all of his willpower to leave your side. But he needed to collect some things to make sure you would heal okay. So, reluctantly, he left his bedroom, keeping the lights off, and made his way to the kitchen to find what Madja had left.

He filled a glass of water for when you woke and approached the numerous vials on the table.

Apply once daily for the wing removal, one jar filled with white cream read. Apply once daily for the whip marks, another that had a bluish tint said. Lastly, a taller vial with a tannish-colored liquid, looking almost like tea, that read Drink at night for sleep and pain.

Azriel gathered all of them in his arms and carried them to his room. He assumed Madja would check in soon enough to see how your healing was going, and he knew he could always get in contact with Rhys to call on the healer if need be.

He just wanted to make sure you weren't in pain. The tears streaking down your cheeks earlier still haunted his memories, forming a pit in his stomach. And he knew, with absolute certainty, that his nightmares would be filled with your screams and cries for years to come.

So he would make sure these creams and tonics were applied and taken. He would advocate for you if you needed more, and he would track down every healer in all of Prythian if need be.

Setting the supplies on his bedside, he went to his bathroom and collected extra gauze and tape for when he needed to change your bandages. Once all was prepared, he looked around the space, wondering how he could make it more comforting for you. Less like the space of a spy and more like a space worthy of you.

He fiddled with his scarred fingers while his brain raced, remembering what your bedroom looked like or what you did to the rooms you read in when you wanted a night in.

Azriel quickly made his way to your room, praying to the Mother you wouldn't be angry with him for entering without your permission.

Your bedroom had been exactly what Azriel expected it to be when he first entered it all those years ago. The walls were a dark blue, decorated with drawings and artwork bought in Velaris and drawn of the inner circle. Books littered the space, along with a music player, a chest filled with trinkets from other courts, and an entire shelf of your favorite teas. Your bed was unmade and messy, white sheets and white comforter bundled altogether. There, Azriel spied what he was searching for: a little stuffed bat you slept with.

He and Cassian both had teased you relentlessly when they had glimpsed the small thing on your floor one day. Your cheeks had gone bright red as you floundered trying to explain that you didn't get to have anything like that as a child and you wouldn't be shamed for finding comfort in it now.

Azriel found it endearing. Even during his teasing, an admirable smile had still tugged at his face, his eyes gleaming with care. Such a tough girl but still soft.

He picked it up in one large hand, turning to see if there was anything else in the room you might like to have with you. A book on your nightstand you were reading, your favorite candle -- Azriel grabbed it all before going to make his exit.

When he went to leave, however, he spied something on the desk next to your door.

It was a flower. Long dead, but preserved by being pressed into artwork, framed delicately and displayed on the wooden desk. Azriel recognized that flower. One from nearly a year ago. A daisy.

Azriel had been making his way to Elain's garden, infatuated with her at the time. Knowing how much she liked plants, he had bought some beautiful flowers for her under the guise of sprucing up Rhys' and Feyre's house. But he had seen you on his way over, and your eyes had lit up seeing the bouquet. He remembered the guilt that had swirled in his stomach, seeing how just the sight of the flowers had made you happy. So he had pulled the most perfect daisy out of the variety of flowers and held it out to you.

"For our Daisy," he had said. And you had smiled so sweetly, it had warmed the guilt in his chest away.

The daisy stared back at him now, and he felt like crying again.

Because you were such a sweet soul. He knew at the time the flower would make you happy, that's why he had given it to you. But for it to mean so much to save it?

One small flower had meant so much when he had been carrying an entire bouquet for someone else.

He suddenly felt like he needed to give you the entire world.

You were such a sweet girl, and he had almost lost you.

Azriel swallowed hard, readjusting the things in his arms and leaving your room.

He would give you your stuffed bat, set your book nearby, light your favorite candle, and then he was going to order some fucking daisies.

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar fic #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel fluff

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nvirskies · 3 months

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it's getting hot in here - c. la rue

warnings: reader is like half-naked? just no shirt on is all but reader is wearing a sports bra, nothing sexual just like a tad suggestive?, clarisse is a gay mess, kinda ooc clarisse, i know next to nothing about blacksmithing please hang in there with me, fem reader, no use of y/n, self-conscious reader, not beta read

summary: clarisse goes to pick up a custom order dagger from the forge when she's met with an unexpected sight.

hephaestus!daughter!reader x clarisse la rue

word count: 1.3k

taglist: @lvrue @azrielsdiary @b0ok-lover @star-girl69 @petitegavotte

from this post !

a/n: tbh might make this a multi part thing, at least a second part. also, so sorry this took so long to finish- i got sidetracked with a couple other things irl. hope you enjoy! men, nsfw, non-sapphics, 16- / 19+ dni

It was no secret the kids of Cabin 9 ran a side business to make some extra cash. It was pretty lucrative, given that there would always be a line of demigods waiting to have their weapon(s) of choice customized. Custom engravings, patterns cast into handles, ergonomic handpiece add-ons, and so much more. Name it, and it would be done for the right price, forged with impeccable quality.

And that was how Clarisse La Rue found herself heading to the forge just east of the strawberry fields with a thin paper in one hand and a small bag of golden drachmas in the other. The edges of the slip were just barely singed, and the writing on it looked nearly incomprehensible to many eyes, scribbled notes of her order confirmation and gods only knew what else. It didn’t matter to her, she just needed it to get her dagger and go.

Crowds parted for her like the Red Sea, once-lively conversations coming to a grinding halt as she walked straight through crowds and groups with nothing more than a glare and a sharp look in any general direction.

In no time at all, the familiar sounds of machinery clanking, fire hissing and crackling, and hammers striking metal filled the air. It was the forge, the singular place where one could guarantee there would be at least one child of Hephaestus in there at all hours of the day.

She pushed open the heavy metal door, swinging it wide open soundlessly despite its obvious weight. And what a sight she was greeted with. You were there alone, hunched over a piece of blisteringly hot metal, pounding away at it with a hammer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other.

Something about you entranced her.

She didn’t know if it was the way your hair was pulled into a low ponytail, some loose strands clinging to the sides of your face, the way you subconsciously bit your lip as you focused completely on the red-hot metal in front of you. Or perhaps, it was the way your muscles rippled in the dim firelight as you struck the metal again and again, a thin sheen of sweat covering the exposed portions of your skin from both the heat and the exertion.

Maybe it was a combination or something else entirely.

As she gazed at you, a light blush dusted her cheeks as she came to the realization that you weren’t wearing much while working. The heat of the forge had led you to forgo wearing a shirt entirely, said shirt reduced to a tiny, crumpled gray bundle of fabric in the corner of the room. You were left wearing a sports bra, dusted with ash and soot and a pair of baggy sweatpants resting just above your hips.

It wasn’t as if Clarisse had never seen people dressed in less before. Hell, she’d seen her own fair amount of skin for various reasons. But this time, it seemed different. The slip of paper and bag of coins in her hands were forgotten momentarily as she simply stared at you from the doorway.

The way the dim light of the roaring furnace illuminated you from behind gave you an almost ethereal glow, the edges of the flames flickering around your moving silhouette.

She could see the muscles in your arm and shoulder tensing and relaxing with every ever-so-precise swing of the hammer, and she found herself silently watching you work from the doorway.

Ultimately, it was the soft clinking coming from the bag of drachmas Clarisse held in her hand that drew your attention away from the project in front of you. Your head snapped up, tense and a tad startled from the sudden sound, having been so zoned into your work that you hadn’t noticed her presence.

The hammer in your hand dropped to the metal workbench with a loud clang, the sound reverberating throughout the forge, ripping Clarisse from the glossed-over, hazy look in her eyes as she watched you move just moments ago, having been completely and utterly under your spell.

“Shit-!” you exclaimed, jumping slightly and wincing at the harsh sound, eyes widening further as you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed far too casual compared to how she normally treated campers, especially given her outward distaste towards children of Hephaestus.

And all of a sudden, you’re all too aware of your lack of a shirt and your cheeks flare with an embarrassed bright red flush.

Flushed the same color as the heated metal in front of you, Clarisse noted absentmindedly. It wasn’t a look she didn’t like. But of course, she would never admit that. The big, bad Clarisse La Rue flustered over something as insignificant as muscles on a girl? Impossible.

Her attention is drawn back to you, observing as you scurry to the other side of the room to grab your stashed-away shirt, slipping the loose grey fabric over your body, any and all views of the muscles she had seen just moments prior completely disappearing in a matter of seconds.

After having taken a few calming breaths, you steeled yourself for a barrage of snarky remarks that you were sure would come spewing out of the Ares cabin counselor’s mouth like acid out of the myrmeke’s mouths, but they never came.

Instead, you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed to be a bit flustered? Her eyes didn’t meet yours for a moment before she straightened herself out. Before your very eyes, you watched her cool and collected facade slip over her like a mask, and that trademark smirk of hers tugged at the corners of her lips.

“I’m here to pick up an order, under my name,” she remarks, holding up the bag of drachmas and thin slip of paper in an outstretched hand. Her gaze seemed like it was scrutinizing everything about your appearance from the baggy grey shirt that hung loosely over your frame to the soot just barely smudged on your forehead. Whether it was a good or bad look you had no idea, subconsciously shrinking into the shadows of the dimly lit forge.

“Right, right, La Rue…” you trail off nervously, scanning the room for the rack that held completed orders and leafing through the tags attached to each object. “La Rue, La Rue, La Rue, where is it-?” you muse to yourself, repeating her last name in a hushed tone until the sight of it comes into view. The dagger she had ordered was at the edge of the table, with the request for a heavyweight handle and an etching of her initials into the butt of it.

Normally, Clarisse would have found your behavior annoying if it were coming from anyone else, but oddly enough, she quite liked the way her last name rolled off your tongue. It felt almost natural, too natural. Quickly, she brushed away the lingering thoughts about how you had looked almost god-like with the flame from the roaring furnace glowing behind you, the thoughts of what your skin would feel like under her hands.

After a beat of silence, you grabbed said dagger, placed a little ball of clay over its razor-sharp tip, and slipped it into a small drawstring bag, pulling it closed.

“That’ll be five golden drachmas, La Rue, or fifteen silver ones. Whatever works for you” you say as you hand her the bag, other hand outstretched for the paper she held and to take the coins. She dropped the five golden coins in your palm and grabbed the bag to turn on her heel and walk out without another word.

Or so you thought.

“Thanks for the weapon. I’ll see you around, pretty girl.”

#🖋️ nvir writes #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x fem reader #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue pjo #clarisse pjo #cabin 9 #daughter of hephaestus #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo tv

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l0vergirlv0mit · 5 months

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hey girl, can you write abby or ellie teaching reader (who's never been in a relationship) how to cuddle? I feel like it would be so cute ☹️

a/n: Hey girly!! YESS ofc I love comfort🤭🤭🤭 I wrote for Ellie cause I haven’t yet. Sorry this is short!

warnings/contents: weed, fluff, cuddling.

“Are you gonna come sit down or what?” Ellie giggles and waves you over. She’s propped up on your bed with her rolling tray in her lap. You tentatively go to sit next to her watching as she focuses on rolling the perfect joint.

She looks over at you while licking the edge of paper. “Come closer hon, you know I don’t bite.” She hummed out placing the tray on your night stand, she nudging her head to the side bidding you over. “You wanna take the first hit? I’ll light it for you babe.” You nod and Ellie’s pulling you into her side placing the joint between your lips.

“Ya ready?” She says holding the lighter up. Her lips pulling into a small smile.

“Mhm.” You replied holding the joint between your fingers. Ellie goes to light it and you take a shallow inhale in to keep from coughing. It’s no use as you cough uncontrollably anyway. Ellie chuckles quietly, carefully taking the joint from your fingers raising her brows. “Amateur.” She teases you taking a long drag. Her lips wrapping around the joint with a faint smirk. You hit her shoulder lightly in faux annoyance.

You take the joint again right before it hits her lips for a second hit and move away from her to the other side of the bed. She gasps at you before her face falls into disappointment. Her green eyes wearing a look of concern. “How come you keep sitting so far away from me? You don’t wanna cuddle?”

You blow smoke into the room hoping the weed would soon calm your nerves as you look away nervously. “I-I don’t know.” You shrug. Ellie exhales a quick laugh at your response. “You don’t know? What do you mean you don’t know?” She’s furrowing her brows at you confused but the corners of her mouth perk up with slight amusement. Taking the joint from your hand taking a final puff then ashing it for later.

You start to get nervous feeling a bit stupid at your inability to be affectionate. “I-I don’t know, I mean I’ve never done…that.” You look away again at the last word. Ellie moves closer to you instead just filling the space herself. “You mean you’ve never had someone cuddle you before?” She questioned with an astounded look on her face.

“No…” You were fully embarrassed the weed honestly only heightened your feelings. “Awww you poor thing!” Ellie watches with droopy red eye as you pull you lip between your teeth and can’t help but giggle. Playfully pulling you into her arms. “Your cute, how about I teach you babe hmm?” Her fingers running through your hair.

You nod timidly. Her arms around you felt good she soothed that anxiousness inside of you. Ellie goes to lay down in the bed lifting the covers up. She was staying the night dressed in her boxers and an oversized tshirt. “Come on.” She beckons you to lay beside her and you obliged. “Ok now what?” You felt silly honestly giggling quietly waiting for more instructions.

“Put your head on my chest.” Her command made you confused so you laid only your head on her chest not knowing what to do with the rest of yourself. Ellie let a laugh slip and you shoot her a glare. “I’m sorry I’m sorry! Ok now like put your leg between mine. Kinda lay on top of me.” You listen to her and she grabs your arm herself making you hug her abdomen.

The position immediately has you sinking into her. The feeling of Ellie’s chest raising and falling with her breathes grounding you. Ellie’s hand comes to rest on your back for a moment before scratching lightly up and down. “Comfy?” She asks and you’ve already closed eyes settling into her affection. Your cheek squished up against her. “Mhm…” You reply tiredly the soft sounds of the television nearly lulling you to sleep.

You look up at Ellie and she greets you with a soft caring smiling in return. Your hand finds its way under her tshirt pulling her even closer and closing your eyes. Her soft skin helping you into a dreamlike state. Ellie swears her heart stoped beating for a second. Pouting like how you would when you see a really cute puppy. Ellie’s attention is split between you and the tv as she mindlessly plays with your hair. After a couple minutes she hears soft snoring. She pushes hair out of your face and behind your ear to get a better look at you.

She’s smiling to herself when she realizes you’ve fallen asleep. She turns off the tv and carefully adjust herself so she holding you in her arms. She leaves one final kiss on your forehead. Letting out a deep sigh. She closes her eyes and falls asleep in the comfort of your intangled body’s.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 10 days

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The Witch's Bodyguard

Actress!Wanda Maximoff x Bodygaurd!Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda is in need of a new bodyguard and you are called upon to fill in.

Word Count:

Warnings: None this is just a set up and establish chapter

A/N: I'm so glad you're all looking forward to this series!

Wanda Maximoff; sure you'd heard the name before. She was one of the top celebrities around. You didn't pay any of it much mind as you worked security at a gala. Your manager had asked you to work there since she'd be there talking about contracts with people. She had other bodyguards under her, but she always favored you.

“Y/N?” You hear your manager, Val, called out as you stand on the balcony making you turn towards her. Next to her was Wanda Maximoff, you'd seen her around talking with a handful of others like Natasha Romanoff and Kate Bishop.

“What's up Val? Everything okay?” You ask immediately going into guard mode. She chuckles a bit, putting a hand on your bicep.

“Calm down. Nothing serious. Miss. Maximoff here was asking about you when she overheard me speaking so highly of you.” You looked over at the ash blonde, you had seen earlier someone playing the trailer for her upcoming movie which explained the blonde instead of her natural brunette.

“Ma'am.” You gave a nice enough smile and held out your hand.

“It is very nice to meet you…” Her voice trailed off, leaving you to fill in.

“Y/L/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” She smiles and takes your hand. You see her eyes rake over you, assessing if you'd be a good fit. Currently you were wearing black army pants and a tight fitting black short sleeve shirt. As she looked you over, you swear you see her bite her lip.

“You said she's available, right?” Wanda looks away, back to Val, as if you suddenly don't exist anymore.

“Yes she's open right now. We can draw up a contract for you to look over if you'd like?” Val suggests earning a smile from Wanda.

“That would be lovely. Can it be ready tomorrow? My last bodyguard had to take a leave so I am I'm need of one as soon as possible.” You wonder what could have possibly happened for only a moment before your presence is being requested elsewhere through your ear piece.

“It was lovely to meet you Miss. Maximoff, but I'm needed in the main hall concerning a matter.” You take your leave with a smile, getting one back from both women.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You had woken up at 5am, done your workout, showered, and had breakfast before you were being summoned by Val for this new contract. Standing in the at home office with Val, Wanda, and a handful of lawyers and other important people from Wanda's team all gathered. You stood at ease behind Val wearing much the same as you were yesterday. Only difference was an army green shirt today.

“We need your signature Mrs. Y/L/N, can we get your signature?” One of the lawyers asked.

“It's Miss and yes you can.” The lawyer looked at the paperwork and Val then went back to you. “I told you to fix that, Val.” you hissed as you signed and initial on the lines indicated. You were used to this by now. You'd been through dozens of contracts with Val. You knew every word in the contract by now.

Your eyes flicked up to Wanda, feeling her eyes on you as you signed. It felt like she wanted to say something, but decided against it as you finished your signatures, pushing the papers back to the lawyer.

When everything was said and done most of Wanda's team left leaving just Wanda, Val, her manager Agatha, and yourself. There was small talk mostly of what it would entail. One of them being you'd be a live-in bodyguard for her. Sure Wanda had other guards, but you would be her personal bodyguard and she needed you at all times of the day.

You couldn't complain really. Leaving the old stuffy apartment you'd wanted to leave behind for a while now would be good. You didn't have to pay rent or anything. Food would be provided and you'd still be getting a paycheck each week. It was probably the best possible outcome you could have asked for.

“Well hire some movers to get all your belongings and bring them here.” Wanda spoke as you followed her down the hallway, her heels clicking on the hardwood. You took in the different pieces of artwork she kept around the house. Her home is mostly filled with white, gray, and blacks. The only splashes of color are scarlet hues every so often mixed into things such as a blanket or an accent rug. “This will be your room here.”

She opens a door to show off a rather blank room at the moment, but it's bigger than your whole apartment had been and it even has its own bathroom. You were a little in shock. This was a first for you being 24/7 for someone so you'd never stayed in any other celebrity's houses.

“Once we get your stuff here anything else you might need we can go get or order whichever you prefer.” You honestly weren't sure what to say.

“Oh thank you Miss. Maximoff, but once we get my things here I should be fine. I don't need much, honestly if I didn't have anything besides clothes this room alone would be enough for me.” She let's out a bubbly laugh at your statement.

“A minimalist. I like that.” She responds and you turn to fully face her.

“I did four tours in Afghanistan ma'am you learn to live minimally.” You tell her. She pauses a moment as if unsure what to say as she just looks at you.

“Straight out of high school?” She finally asks, but you have the feeling it wasn't what she really wanted to say.

“Yes ma'am. Did four tours and then met Val through a martial art class. I was trying to blow off steam in a healthy manner after coming back. We got to talking and she asked if I wanted to work for her. The rest is history.” You explain without giving away too much. You didn't like any one person knowing everything. She simply nods.

“Well if you need to grab anything we can go do that. Clothes, essentials, all the big stuff we can worry about tomorrow.”

“We?”

“Yes. You're supposed to stay close to me and if you need to grab your things then I'm going with you.” She says with a smile. Guess you were stuck with her now. At least she's nice. You've had to work with some people who aren't and you couldn't stand being around them.

“We can go whenever you're ready.” she tells you, starting to leave the room as you follow close behind.

“Ready when you are ma'am.”

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop @rroyale-109 @wandanat01 @scarlizziee @nixxnsworld @snoozingredpanda @mrsromanovaa @sweet--escape17

#ley speaks #ley writes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #actress!wanda #beefy!fem!reader #bodyguard!reader #bodyguard au #The Witch's Bodyguard #TWB

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scarletlizzard · 3 months

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Her Favorite Drug

Pairings: wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: drug use (marijuana), smoking, smut, cunnilingus, fingering, stap on use (R receiving), fluff because I tortued yall with my last story

Summary: Your girlfriend is a stoner. One night, you decide you finally want to try some.

Masterlist

A/N: This is just smut oops. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. Also, the pics with the backward hats kills me every fucking time. Anyways, have fun 💚

Wandas delicate fingers expertly pack in the unfamiliar green into a brown wrapper. You watch closely, feeling her breath on the back of your neck and tickling your ear as she speaks.

"See detka? Then I'll just roll it up like this.." Her voice is soft as she speaks. You nod, eyes stuck on her fingers as they begin to roll the paper.

You were currently sitting in Wandas lap, her arms working in front of you to wrap another joint. In the year you had been dating, this was the first time you were going to join in on your girlfriends favorite recreational hobby. It was no secret that Wanda smoked weed, almost every night to be exact. You had never really been interested in smoking it, but you loved to watch her enjoy it.

Tonight was different. Tonight, you finally wanted to know how it felt. Wanda was surprised at first when you asked, but she was more than happy to pull you into her lap and show you how she does it.

"Lick along here for me," she says, drawing a line on the wrapper. You lean forward away from the warmth of Wandas chest to follow her instructions. "Perfect, baby!" Wanda praises, fiddling with the joint for only a moment before holding it out in her hand to show you the final product.

"Now it's ready?" You ask her, turning sideways on her lap. Your back rests against the arm of the couch, and your legs lay across her thighs.

Wanda nods, a grin on her face, "It's ready. I'll go first, you watch me, okay?"

You had planned on it. Wanda couldn't be more sexy when she smoked. You watch her bring the joint to rest between her lips, the other hand holding a lighter to the end of it. It catches easily, and Wanda inhales deeply before removing it from her lips and blowing out smoke. You press your thighs together tightly, Wanda always had that effect on you.

"You ready, baby?" She asks with a smirk, resting her hand to rub small circles on your leg. You nod slowly, reaching out your hand. "Just take a small one at first.." Wandas voice is husky from the smoke, only making you squeeze your legs tighter.

You begin to smell the familiar scent of the weed as smoke fills the air between the two of you. Here you go.. you take the drug between your lips as Wanda did, breathing it in. It's smoother than you thought as you inhale, but the burn in your lungs was unexpected. Wanda quickly takes the joint out of your hand as your eyes widen, and you let out the smoke with a set of coughs.

"Fuck.." You mumble out between coughs. Wanda chuckles and reaches for a water bottle, handing it to you. She watches with dark eyes as you sip the water, smoking the joint with no problem.

"Burns, huh?" She smiles and rubs your back soothingly as you nod at her, still drinking the water.

After a few moments and the burning resides, you take another hit. You feel your tensions disappear. Another one, and you feel an overwhelming rush to your head, not in a bad way. Then another, and so on until you and Wanda are finished with the joint. Your senses feel heightened.

You finish off the water as Wanda sets what remains of the joint in an ash tray. She smiles at you with red, squinting eyes, "Come here, baby." She chuckles and maneuvers you, so you're straddling her lap. "How do you feel?" She whispers, staring into your red and glossy eyes.

You giggle at her sentence, for some reason finding it funny. The lighting in the room was dark. Only a few string lights lit above the wall shone brightly against the side of Wandas face. There was a cloudy haze above the couch and in your mind. You felt...

"Like I'm floating," you giggle more, causing Wanda to chuckle. Her fingertips run along the hem of your shirt, sneaking under the back of it. They make their way slowly up and down your spine, the feeling practically euphoric in the state you were in.

"Feels good, huh detka?" Wanda mumbles as she plants soft kisses on your neck. So, so soft.. is all you could think. Your eyes close at the sensations. You nod, and you know it's too slow. Wanda lifts her head to look at you, and you take advantage by holding her face in your hands.

"So good, Wands.." Your thumbs rub over her cheeks as your eyes take in her features. You swallow hard, looking at her red lips and thinking of the way they kiss you softly. Your eyes travel down to her sharp jaw, your fingers tracing each feature you spot. "You're so pretty," you whisper with a giggle.

She laughs.

God, her laugh..

Your thoughts are slow as you look down to a freckle on her neck. Christ, you want to kiss it.

So you do. You lean forward and press your lips to her neck, feeling how warm her skin is under your kiss. Wanda lets out a low hum in response, so you kiss it again. Her nails scratch softly down your back, so you bite down on the skin and suck gently.

"Detka..." Her head lulls to the side, giving you more space. The thick accent in her voice only makes the ache for her stronger. "Baby," Wanda groans as your lips work their way down her neck. Her hands move down to your waist, "Move against me," she moans out, gripping your hips.

You rock back and forth in her lap, letting out a moan at the pleasure of the small amount of friction. As soon as your lips leave Wandas neck she's pulling off your shirt, along with her own. Among the haze you feel her breasts press against yours, and she leans forward to kiss you.

The kiss is unlike any you had before with her. It truly felt magical. You still felt like you were floating, and you could feel every inch of her skin on yours. "Need you.." You whimper in between kisses, still grinding yourself down against her lap. Wanda only moans in response. She continues to kiss you as she stands, still holding you. Your legs wrap around her waist.

The walk to her bedroom is short, and you don't even realize it until she's lying you down on the edge of the bed. The only thing you can think of is the way her lips fit perfectly against yours. You whine when she pulls away, frowning as you see her red and puffy lips that you still wanted to be touching your own.

"Now, now, detka.." She says, sliding down your pants. Bare for her to see, Wanda shakes her head as she gets down on her knees in front of the bed. "Fuck.. you're always so pretty for me." She mumbles in between wet kisses on your inner thighs. Your head was spinning between the lust and the weed, your body was begging for her touch.

Her hands move to hold your thighs open, gripping down tightly on the soft skin. "God, I can't wait to taste you," Wanda groans. You feel her lips attach to you clit, kissing it gently. Looking down you see green eyes peering up at you, a wicked grin on her face as she takes one long lick up your slit.

"Wanda, please.." You moan out, bucking your hips towards her. Your hands grip the sheets, and she can no longer hold back. Wandas mouth attaches to your wet pussy, her experienced tongue sending you into a frenzy.

"Mmm.." She moans against you, sending vibrations onto your clit. "You taste so good baby, just like always.." Wanda moans again, sucking softly on your clit. "Always so fucking good.."

"Ohh god, Wands.." You moan out, barely able to watch as she continues to move her tongue sinfully. Suddenly, you feel two slender fingers at your entrance, pushing in easily with how turned on you were. "Oh, fuck!" You whine out as she begins to pump her fingers inside of you, her lips sucking on your clit. Wanda can't help her own moans as you call out her name.

"That's it, babygirl.. just like that.." Her lips smack as she removes them from your clit, glistening in the dim lighting with your juices. You stare at her with red eyes as she kisses her way up your body.

"Baby I'm gonna cum, please," you moan.

"Cum for me then, detka." Wanda coaxes you, watching with dark eyes. She could get off right now at just the sight of your body beneath her, the way every one of her touches raised goosebumps on your skin. Wanda feels you tighten around her fingers, wet walls pulling them in. She smirks down at you. "That's it.. just like that, fuck.." She mutters.

You repeat her name as pleasure flows through your body, your climax crashing over you like waves. You knew being stoned would be different, but you hadn't expected to feel this euphoric. Your eyes open to see Wanda staring down at you with stars in her green eyes.

"Wanda, that.."

"I know, detka," Wanda chuckles.

You take her face in your hands and kiss her passionately. The way her tongue swipes across your lip and the fact that you can taste yourself has your body heating up all over again. You feel a familiar fire burning in your lower stomach as Wandas naked body rubs against yours.

So, so soft...

So, so warm...

You don't know how long it is, with no sense of time, that you had been kissing Wanda. But she parts with swollen lips to walk across the room. You feel yourself throbbing as you know what she's getting, what she's about to do. Wanda walks over to you, her strap now attached to her.

"Sit up, baby," Wanda says gently and helps you sit up. She moves to sit at the head of the bed, her back sitting against the headboard. "Come here." She smiles at you, helping you straddling her lap. "Such a pretty girl, for me, aren't you?" You nod in response. "Then ride my cock like the good girl you are." Her voice is stern, but soft.

Wanda practically lifts you up before you settle yourself down onto the faux cock. Your mouth parts and your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of her deep inside you. Any pain quickly turns to pleasure as she guides you with hands on your hips to begin moving.

All you could grasp was the feeling of Wandas hips snapping up to meet yours, the way she moans your name, and how soft the skin under your hands was. Your hands traveled from her shoulders, to her neck, to her jaw. You couldn't pick one to settle on. You had to keep touching her.

Wanda could feel, with every thrust of her hips and every bounce of your body, the strap rubbing her in all the right places. She could feel her skin burning against yours.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," She moans along with you, sinful sounds filling the room. "You're doing so good detka, fucking bouncing on my cock like that." You only manage a whimper out, legs shaking as they were about to give out underneath you.

Wanda suddenly grabs ahold of you, lifting both of you up and lying you onto your back. She pounds relentlessly into you, and you know at this angle you're not going to last long.

"Oh god, Wanda! Feels so good!" You cry out, feeling her breasts press against yours. The muscles in her arms flexed as she held herself above you.

"I know, baby, I know.." Wanda praises. Your hands hold onto her back, leaving scratches down her back as she continues to thrust into you with no mercy. She grunts at the feeling, loving the way you held onto her.

Wanda is met with more resistance as she thrusts, your walls tightening once again around her. "Are you gonna cum again for me baby? Fuck, fuck.." She can't help the low moan that escapes from the back of her throat. This time you can only nod, mouth unable to form actual words. "Fuck Y/N I'm gonna cum!" Her hips waver, that steady rhythm she had finally faltering. "Cum with me, detka. Cum for me," Wanda pants out, hot breath hitting your sticky skin.

That's all it takes for you to repeat her name again, over and over like worship. Another orgasm crashes over just like before, waves hitting you over and over.

You don't know how long you'd been laying like this, but you were loving every moment of it. Wanda held you close under the covers, at the wrong side of the bed. You felt the soft fabric of your pillowcase tickle your toes. The two different highs you experienced tonight slowly fading away.

"I guess I could probably do that again," you say with a giggle, your finger tracing imaginary letters on Wandas chest. She hums in response, kissing your forehead. You could feel the smile plastered on her face.

"We're definitely getting you stoned again," Wanda laughs and moves herself on top of you again, settling herself between your legs. Her green eyes were just that, no sign of bloodshot anywhere.

Wandas' regular usage had her craving more already.

So she kisses you again, her favorite drug of choice.

#marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x fem!reader #elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #marvel one shot #scarletlizzard writes

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wingedhallows · 2 months

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cause you're kinda cute; james potter

pairing: james potter x reader | 0.7k words plot: you're kinda scary and james has a crush on you, paper birds which are hard to control aren't helping either prompt: "you don't scare me. then why's your heart beating so fast? cause you're kinda cute." authors note: i tried something fluffy for once, hope you like it, have a good weekend, y'all :)

navigation

The simmering and slight whispers in Slughorn's classroom were the only thing audible, a cold breeze which glided past your cheeks made you sigh. It was mid July and unbearably hot in Hogwarts.

The worst thing was that teachers, especially Slughorn, didn’t approve of improper uniforms. You were allowed to wear shorts, even short sleeve shirts but the robes had to stay, safety reasons he had said. You were sure that he secretly enjoyed seeing you all suffer.

“I’ll drop dead soon, it’s sooo hot in here” Isolde, your friend, muttered as she wiped her forehead with her arm. You were hot, yes, but Isolde had to bear the heat with a head full of black thick curls.

“I told you to put your mane up.” Diana snickered, her ash white hair in a bun on top of her head. You stirred your pot and took another look at the book, something didn’t seem right. Why was Isolde’s whitish and yours almost green?

“It’s not that simple, Diana.” Isolde bit back, her mouth in a thin line. “Just ‘cause you have a fist full of hair.” Diana’s mouth opened in shock as she smacked her friend's shoulder.

“Why is yours like that and mine’s like this?” You asked, leaning over Isolde’s cauldron, eyebrows in a frown.

“Cause you’re kinda shit at potions, hun.” She patted your shoulder and gave you a fake pout.

“But I really need this grade.” You grumbled as you stared at your greenish liquid. Slughorn wouldn’t even be surprised, you thought. “I know, I know." Isolde whispered and dropped something you didn’t know into your cauldron.

“Why don’t you ask for help?” Diana spoke, eyes fixed on her book. “Help? From who?” Diana gave you a small smile.

“You heard Slughorn before, Potter’s a genius at potions.” Your eyes widened as you shook your head. “No fucking way, Potter’s a nightmare.” Isolde’s mouth twitched into a smile as nudged you.

“That’s not what I heard two nights ago.”

Your eyes closed as you turned to your cauldron, you had played truth or dare spiked with Veritaserum. You had blabbered about how hot James Potter and his friends were and how much you would give for him to do certain things to you.

“Shut up, Diana.” You grumbled.

A second later a paper bird stumbled over your head onto your book, flapping its wings as it unfolded.

10 Prettiest Girls

Y/N L/N - slytherin, scary :(

Aurora Kent - boring

Lily Evans - snivellus' friend

Narcissa Black - cousin, not cool

Marlene McKinnon

Diana Hunt - slytherin, airhead

Isolde O’Neil - mean also slytherin

Alice Fortscue

Mary McDonald

Florence Williams - slytherin

You couldn’t believe what you held in your hands. Your eyes widened as you looked over it again. You were number one, wow, but you’re scary?

Slowly you turned around, paper in your hand. Sirius and Peter stared at you with wide eyes as you noticed what had happened. This paper wasn’t supposed to fall into your hands, it was supposed to fly over your head into James’ and Remus’ hands.

With your face cold as ice you walked over to them, their eyes still wide. Remus took a step back.

“Y/N, hi.” He spoke, much higher than usual. You slammed the paper down on James’ table, careful enough to not disturb Slughorn, who was busy in his cabinet.

“This-This-”I’m scary?” You said, mouth in a grin. His eyes widened as they switched between the paper and your face multiple times.

“What?” He tried but you let a small chuckle slip. You took a step around the table, closer than needed. James fell back onto his chair, faces inches apart.

“Do I scare you, James?” His lips formed into a grin and he put his hand on the table, to steady himself, you guessed.

“You don’t scare me, Y/N.” You crossed your arms and now smiled at him, your braids fell over your shoulders, almost hitting the boy in front of you in the face as you bent down a tad. Your lips hovered over his ear, his neck tensed

“Then why’s your heart beating so fast?” He hung his head as a chuckle left his form, he placed his hands on his thighs before looking at you again.

“Cause you’re kinda cute.” You threw your head back as a giggle, barely audible, escaped you. Your hand found his chin, lifting his face.

“Right back at ‘ya.” He smiled and gave you another smile.

“And since we’re already here, you might want to cross that, Diana’s much smarter than she lets on.” He nods and takes the pen Remus holds out for him.

With a hand to his forehead he smiles at you, a pinkish tint on his apple cheeks.

“Yes ma’am.”

#harrypotter #hp fanfic #marauders era #marauders imagine #the marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #harry potter fanfic #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #the marauders fanfic #marauders #the marauders era #james potter fluff #harry potter fluff

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cowgirlcherrie · 9 months

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STARTEAM ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ volleyball! loser! ellie drabble

a/n: there is no plot for this it’s just a thought I haven’t been able to shake since seeing the amazing volleyball! ellie art by @caspervi ♡♡

volleyball! ellie art. support their work here!

update: also just realized @elliespeach has a wonderful volleyball! ellie fic and basically kickstarted the idea so support their work here too !!

content: 18+ MDNI, sexual themes, lowk saliva play if u squint bro, fem! water girl! reader

— song(s): STARTEAM by lastclass & byelilfly

Ellie was in timeout.

Well not literally, but being benched felt like she was. Suddenly she was 5 again and her teacher was moving her card to red, for her indecent behavior. Ellie wanted to whine, she wanted to fight back – bitch and moan. She had been putting in the work! Up in the gymnasium at the crevice of the glowing somber night to practice her bumping and setting; perfecting her spikes and it seemed as if she would never get to reach tranquility. She couldn’t be an ace, she couldn’t beat her opponents.

She was drenched in sweat head-to-toe — the fabric of her jersey sticking to her chest like glue. Beads of fresh sweat dripped down her forehead as she licked her dehydrated lips. She needed to breathe. But Ellie didn’t know breath control. She didn’t know stopping either, her routine was damaged, she was jaded and her brain was fuzzy the plays didn’t even make sense to her. Her brain was insanely flawed. Nothing but incoherent doodles as her coach yelled in her face to take 5.

All she knew was routine:

Wake up at 5 am. Go for a run at 7 am. Nutritious breakfast at 9 am. Practice 10-4 pm. A quick nap and muscle soak before a game.

All her hard work burned into ashes; eventually to dust and crumbs as it became nothing but a false sense of dedication. Sleepless nights and aching muscles just to be benched. Ellie was incandescent. Her eyebrows furrowed, cheeks a pulsing red – like clown makeup from the intensity. Her blood cells flowed healthily and her heartbeat was in the root of her ears like the pulsing of the music that kept her going. While some may say a body is a temple; her’s was a ticking time bomb ready to go off in any second.

Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes open, the sound of sneakers against the freshly polished floors made her eardrums bleed, similar to scraping a metal ruler against a school board.

Dropping her head as she looked down at her legs. Her thighs were drenched in sweat the shin guards cutting off any circulation, making her thighs look wonderfully plump and 10x more muscular. Ellie was becoming hyper-aware until a sudden tap on her back and a sweet toothache-inducing smell filled her nostrils.

It was you.

The water girl, her hero. Just the right person to fix her cravings. A thin white ridged paper cup in your hand with water filled to the brim as you held it out in front of you with a gentle smile. Ellie always thought your sweetness was ravishing. She thought her teammates were undeserving of such pleasure and authenticity from you. The other girls would dim your light – and by dimming it she meant flirting with you. Calling you sweetheart and asking to take you out to dinner which was followed by your rich voice telling them, “It’s unprofessional!” but she was too bashful to admit it; she wanted to do it too.

The word baby could not escape her lips without being immediately flustered by it, Ellie was too smitten and starstruck by you. Quiet and lightly spoken, hell she was called ‘Bitchless 7 Williams’ for a reason. Stuttering over her words, hands shakier than ever, her affection becoming aggression she wanted nothing more than to drag herself out. She wishes she could be more flirty, more outspoken; then just maybe she would have been lucky to snag you, her water girl.

You knew she could get down, she palpably could get rough with the right motivation. It was the way her anger transcended on the court, you were sure it would manifest in other places too. But part of you loved it, it turned you on, when you were alone at night, entangled in your duvet as you wondered what she would look like calling out your name. She was a fucking loser, a pathetic whiney player that still took the fall.

Initially, you thought you were sweeter; more gentle but Ellie was more bashful than you. She wasn’t like her teammates. Ellie didn’t make eye contact with you at all or call you names. She did, however, stare at your boobs for too long through your tightly fitting workout jacket that hugged every crevice of your body just right. Giving your boobs an extra push. It was perverted, but you caught her every time. Coincidentally that’s what got you hooked on her. You weren’t going to stop her.

Like a hound dog you could smell what she wanted, you never failed to see the drool finally dripping from her tongue that she masked by bringing up her cup with great speed as the stretchy saliva dripped down the edge of her fingers and her cup. You did notice how she would leave a sticky residue; her clear fluids all over the cup before handing it back to you. Running off right before you can get a word in.

“Hope you’re thirsty It took me hooours to pour this” you teased, holding out the cup towards Ellie with a smile. That soft grin of yours that easily made anyone swoon on you. Ellie caught herself doing it again. In a room with so many people, her team, friends, and family, she sent a quick look at your boobs before looking back at the sparkles in your eyes. Like diamonds and pearls; vibrant and warm. Lewd thoughts raced in her brain like gnats.

She was giving you teeth, as she took her shirt up; again, to wipe her forehead clear of the everflowing liquid.

“Oh yeah,” Ellie taunted back, with a smirk on her face. She wasn’t sure where this confidence was coming from, so she reached out to take the cup from you. Bringing the cup up to her lips as she tilted her head back, taking large gulps of the water not breaking eye contact with you. You saw the string of saliva again as she dropped the cup from her lips, taking a soft breath.

“More . . .” Her voice was breathy as if she ran a mile.

“More what?”

“More water…please?” Ellie pleaded, she spoke fast and in a whisper shaking the empty cup as she handed it back to you.

“Sure thing Els,” You confirmed taking the cup from her hands feeling the sudden dampness of her drool around the cup. Almost damaging to the deteriorating paper. “You got something here”

You pointed to your own chin with your pointer finger, as Ellie quickly rushed a hand up to wipe off any excess liquid with the back of her hands, fingertips covered in bandaids.

“Sorry,” it was a quiet whisper.

You turned to the back this time giving Ellie a full view of the way you looked in the short shorts — that were almost as tight as your top. Ellie had to look away. Almost as if she were being under surveillance, she had to behave; control her wandering eyes that betrayed her more than often.

Just as you were about to give Ellie the cup again, a shout from her coach filled the spacey gymnasium. With that simple shout, Ellie became a machine. Lifting her legs up forgetting about her water request and rushed back onto the court. If she was so lucky to have the chance, she’ll fetch the water from you later. Hopefully with a reward on her back.

Williams! Back on the court! Let’s try it again #7 Hustle!

#💭ᜊ cher thinks #cherry writes 🤍#ellie williams drabble #ellie williams #modern! ellie williams #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x reader #volleyball! ellie #modern au #ellie x you #ellie x reader #college! ellie williams #ellie williams smut #loser! ellie #loser!ellie #sub!ellie

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heartcereql · 4 months

Text

shades of cool

୨୧ young!coriolanus snow x f!reader ୨୧ IN WICH Coriolanus is the person you've grown to hate and compete against. But when you and him have to work together to achieve what you want, the tables start to turn. (6.2k+ words) ୨୧ cw: cursing, a LOT of tension (yall r going to hate me for the cockblocking but next chapter will make it up i promise), probably ooc snow (acting like he's a sweetheart and not a psycho lollll), like one mention of blood?

a/n: snow lands on top (of me pls)

𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝐼 - 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝐼𝐼

There were only two things that you completely and utterly despised: breaking your favorite nail and the voice of Coriolanus Snow.

"Y/n!"

You made no sign whatsoever to acknowledge the man following your across the crowd of burgundy uniforms. You just clutched your books tighter and quickened your pace.

"Hey, Y/n- wait up!" he called again.

Sighing, you stopped in your tracks and turned around to see a platinum blond running in your direction. The usual shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You put on your best effort to suppress the eye roll that was begging to be released.

"Yes?" you asked, unamused.

"I was just wondering- you seemed kind of distracted in class today." His words were sugary, almost enough to trick anyone into thinking he was truly concerned. But not you though. You had learn to identify the glint in his eyes from a mile away. "Well, just in cas you missed this-"

Before you knew it, you had an A+ graded exam shoved in your face. Making a face of disgust, you scrambled away to look at his face, expression filled with pride.

"That's great, Coriolanus, real great. Would be even greater if I had asked", you scowled, turning away while Coriolanus scoffed behind you, quickly catching up with you again as you resumed your way out.

"Oh, c'mon, Y/n! You're not the only one who's allowed to brag", he said, nudging your side.

"Clearly not. You do it all the time", you deadpanned.

"Don't be mad 'cause you weren't able to beat me. Again."

The smell of roses was too stuck in your nostrils for your liking. Sweet and inviting, but remembering who it came from made the flowers lose all their charm.

"Also, exercise three's answer was option D," he pointed out, that annoying smirk on his face again.

"What?"

"It was option D, not A."

"How did you even- Nevermind. Option A is the literal definition, care to explain how it is option D?" you argued, rolling your eyes.

"I- A's not the definition!" Coriolanus tried to rebute.

"It is. Try paying attention for once."

"It's not!" He stopped fully, leaning against a wall and opening his bag.

"What are you doing?" you raised a brow at his franctic search. Sometimes you forgot how infuriating he was.

"I'm looking for the textbook," he replied, face almost buried in his bag.

"Unbelievable," you scoffed, turning around. "You really are unfixable, Snow."

Walking away from the mess of papers he had made around him, you could hear him protest.

"Hey, don't go! I'm finding the page!"

You shook your head. The exasperation in his voice was like music to your ears.

You knew who you wanted to be from a very young age. You knew exactly what you wanted and what you had to do to achieve it. You wanted everything.

Top of your class since you were five. Student of the month every month. Class president. Winning every single award that could be won by a child under twelve years old.

You wanted to take everything from a life that had given you nothing. Like a phoenix, your mother used to say, risen from the ashes to burn in the most blazing fire. With little to no resources, your family had incredibly made it work so that they could afford a small apartment in the Capitol (if you dared call the cubicle that your family shared a house). But your family had made it. And so had you, child prodigy, wanting to rescue your poor parents and sister. Specially when your mom's frequent coughing developed into something far more serious.

You were unstoppable. Nothing in your way. Praise. Applause. Recognition. It was all in the back of your hand.

Until Coriolanus Snow appeared.

He and you were basically the same. Same drive for power, same desire to rescue your family, same overachiever character, same flawless grades. One would think you would get along, being so impossibly similar.

And perhaps you could have. You could've befriended him and helped each other. If he had not equalled you with such aptitude. Before you knew it, Y/n Y/l/n was never mentioned without Coriolanus Snow. You were no longer the only student to pass with distinction. You weren't the only clear winner, or the only candidate for class president, or weren't so easily distincted class president, for Coriolanus was your vicepresident (something that had never been a thing, that appeared as suddenly as him).

But he was fighting you for your spot. Naturally, you didn't even consider him as a potential friend. He was an obstacle in your way, as you were in his. Soon, you two were always engaged in bantering, cruel comments, trying to bring the other down by showing off your accomplishments and grades and awards and titles.

It was more than safe to say that you and Corolanius held special hatred for each other.

And then came the Plintz Prize. Both of you wanted it with equal burning ache, and gave your very best since the first day. Obviously, you weren't the only students who were interested in winning the prize, but you were the ones ready to sacrifice everything, the ones to always make the most of an opportunity, even if it was minimal.

You were so deeply convinced that you were nothing like the other.

But neither of you was willing to let anything come in your way.

"A new financial aid is going to be gifted."

The words echoed in the room as students hushedly commented, whispered to one another.

"Students will submit a proposal, individually or in pairs. A suggestion with your own design of the Hunger Games. You'll go into detail about every little thing, so that in the end, Dr Gaul will select the project she fancies more to be the winner and receive the financial aid."

You and Coriolanus shared a look from opposite sides of the room.

The prize is mine.

As per usual, you were determined to go for everything. You needed to nail this. That very same afternoon you were sat in front of your desk, scribbling down what was supposed to be the first draft to your proposal project. You'd noted some ideas, but they didn't seem to make sense altogether.

Groaning for the umpteenth time, you got up from the spot you'd been occuppying for the last two hours. Your home was no inspiration, which was why you gathered all your scattered pages and notes and made your way to the Academy's library.

There was a spot you liked there. Your spot, though only you referred to it as that, of course. A comfy chair with a green cushion on the end of a large oak table, between the shelves of Geometry books and medicine articles. Golden rays of sunlight filtered through the large window on spring afternoons, and even in the bleak winter it felt nice to look through it.

Making your way over to your spot, you could almost feel the comfort of the chair, how your thoughts would clear and start to make sense. Eyes half closed anticipating the delight. But you opened them only to find a familiar (and annoying) blond sitting in your corner.

"Move" you said as you finished your way over to him.

"What? No. I'm working. Thinking", Coriolanus answered, unbothered, without looking up from his notes and papers, some scrambled, some with big ink stains.

"I don't care. It's my spot. Move.”

He raised his head to look up at you and stopped writing.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise this chair had your name engraved on it,” he pettily remarked.

“Whatever,” you exhaled, plopping down on the seat next to him. “You are such a pain in the ass, you know.”

“Back at you,” he replied, eyes focused on his papers again.

You huffed and reached inside your bag to grab your notes.

Your messily written ideas were mocking you, at this point. If you thought they didn’t make much sense at home, they definitely weren’t making any now. You had so much in mind. And they were great ideas, really. But you couldn’t find a way to connect them, for them to make sense altogether. And you were missing something. Something so essential, something that you couldn’t quite place.

How will the games be watched if they’re held in the middle of a desert? Where will the cameras be?

You scrunched your paper, groaning again and dropping your head to the table.

"Something wrong?"

You lifter your head to find Coriolanus looking at you, carding a hand through his hair.

"None of your business."

"Jesus, chill out Y/n. I was just asking if you were okay.." he spoke, not in his usual bratty tone; he sounded just worried.

Your eyes widened a bit with a mix between embarrassment and shyness.

"I'm just... stressed. I'm stuck on the whole proposal thing, it just won't make any sense. I feel like it's missing something, but I just can't know what," you told him, rubbing your temples.

Coriolanus let out a breathy chuckle, to which you looked at him disbelief.

"I knew you were cruel, but laughing at my miserable state is just-"

"I'm not laughing. I'm relieved," he explained. You looked for any signs of mockery, but his eyes were truthful and soft.

"Relieved?" you frowned.

"Yeah. I-I thought I was the only one having a kind of block," he looked down to his notes and that was when you noticed the messy paragraphs the crossed ideas, the lines and arrows that tried to connect everything.

You gave Coriolanus a tight-lipped smile. He was right. It was somewhat relieving to know that your only real threat was having a hard time like you were.

"Hey, I've got an idea."

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Oh hell no. No idea Coriolanus could want to share with you would turn out great.

"Shoot"

"I think we should partner up for the project," he bluntly said.

"Pardon?" you asked raising your brows. You really thought that you hadn't heard him correctly.

"Yeah, I mean, think about it. We both have a lot of ideas but feel something missing. We-we could help each other out!" Coriolanus clarified, somewhat flustered. "We'd win the prize and split it. Highbottom said the proposal could be submitted by pairs. If we do this together, we'll be unstoppable."

You blinked twice, digesting his words like you couldn't believe they were real.

"I think that's the worst idea I've ever heard."

Coriolanus scoffed. "Right, because you're so well known for your good ideas."

True. Though being a straight A's, perfect student, you had a certain fire inside you that had given you a reckless and flaming reputation.

"I'm in."

You were back in the library the next day, only this time you were sitting in your spot, and Coriolanus was besides you. You had been sitting in silence for the past fifteen minutes, reading the other's anotations and doodles.

When you finished, you leaned back into you seat, stretching your neck and pushing loose strands of hair behind your ears.

"So?" Coriolanus inquired when he noticed you were done. "What do you think?"

"I'm... surprised," you told him, chin resting on your hand as you looked at him. "It's almost identical to mine."

He chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I was noticing. I guess great minds think alike, right?"

"Could be, or you just copied me," you said. Coriolanus sneered and you saw the complains forming behind his lips, so you were quick to clarify. "I was joking, Snow. It seems we're not so different."

"Or you just copied me" he mocked, using your words from earlier.

"You wish," you smile, scoffing in a playful manner.

"Hey, what was it that you were unhappy with about your ideas? Because I think they're pretty great," Coriolanus asked, handing your notes back to you.

"They don't make sense to me. I couldn't come up with a way to connect it all," you shrugged. "Maybe we shouldn't use all of this, I don't know."

The entire day was spent between countless bickering and snacks, you and Coriolanus discussing the project and how insufferable the other was, shielded by the brimful shelves and the hushed conversations between students.

Over the next few days, your begrudging meetings with Coriolanus continued, each session marked by a mixture of tension and reluctant cooperation. The library became your unofficial battleground, the hallowed halls witnessing the clash of two strong-willed minds.

As you both settled into your usual spot once again, there was a palpable air of wariness. However, you couldn't help but notice a subtle change in Coriolanus. He seemed more open to discussion, his usually stoic facade occasionally cracking to reveal a hint of vulnerability. The topics ranged from the project at hand to personal interests, and amidst the disagreements, you discovered shared preferences and surprisingly similar perspectives.

By the first week, a sort of unspoken truce had settled between you. The bickering had mellowed into a more civilized exchange of ideas. Coriolanus, despite his initial resistance, began to respect your opinions and even admitted to finding some merit in your perspectives. You, in turn, acknowledged the sharp intellect beneath his icy exterior. Shared laughter became more frequent, often catching both of you off guard.

Throughout these encounters, the library transformed from a battlefield to a space of reluctant collaboration. Despite the lingering differences, a strange sense of partnership emerged. The once insufferable project discussions turned into an exploration of each other's intellect, and with each passing day, the library witnessed the evolution of an unexpected connection between two seemingly incompatible souls.

Your bag hit the leg of the table as you slipped in your chair, the blond taking the seat next to you. A soft thud was heard, along with something rolling. You were going to duck down to reach it, but Coriolanus was already grabbing it.

"Hey, are these yours?" Coriolanus asked, holding a bottle of pills.

Your eyes widened. Your mom's medicines. You reached inside your bag to check if the bottle you had picked up from the chemist's before school was still there. It wasn't.

"Yeah. Well- my mom's."

He handed the bottle to you, whcih you were quick to put back in your bag.

"Is she okay? Not like it's any of my business, but those pills are like one of the strongest shits ever," he frowned.

Taking a deep breath, you explained, "She's not. She hasn't been for quite a while. And the doctors don't say much, but it isn't looking good."

"I- um, I'm sorry," he stammered, looking down. "If you or her ever need anything, you know you can talk to me, right?"

You nodded, leg bouncing up and down.

"Here," he said, scribbling down something on a ripped piece of paper. "My address. If you ever need it."

"Thank you," you looked into his eyes, words barely a whisper. "I really appreciate it."

His knee bumped yours, like soothing it down, keeping it steady. "Anytime," he smiled.

You gave him an awkward smile, looking away.

The green folder, clutched tightly in your arms, contained the first draft of yours and Coriolanus' design for the Hunger Games. You both were going to introduce it to Dean Highbottom, since you needed to inform him of who formed your team and some other information. Then, he would grant the two of you an interview with Dr. Gaul.

Once, Coriolanus had referred to the folder as 'your baby'. You had given him a blank stare for a second before the two of you broke down in laughter.

Mindlessly turning around a corner, you bumped into someone's shoulder. A pair of arms caught your own, steadying you, keeping you from falling.

"Whoa, sorry-"

The folder. You quickly stepped back, freeing the folder from being crushed any further. Compulsively checking if the folder was okay, you failed to identify the pair of arms that had held you seconds before.

It was okay. Your baby was okay.

"So sorry, I- Coriolanus?" you asked as you finally lifted your gaze. "I thought you were coming by later?"

"Couldn't wait. I was actually looking for you. I just saw Dean Highbottom enter his office. Campus is pretty deserted, so I'd say we could be the first ones."

A soft smile graced his face.

"Shall we then?" you posed the courtsy question playfully.

"We shall"

The two of you made your way to the Dean's office, gushing about the project like two schoolgirls. Grades and rivalry were not brought up once. Perhaps just because you wanted the day to be perfect.

After knocking on Dean Highbottom's door and hearing a 'come in', Coriolanus opened the door and both of you came in.

"Look who it is! Snow and Y/l/n. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes", the Dean greeted you.

Coriolanus and you shared a glance before giving the Dean a polite smile.

"Are you here about the project?"

"We are," you answered, gesturing to the green folder in your hands.

"As in the two of you are submitting the proposal together?" the bearded man asked, raising his eyebrows. When Coriolanus nodded, he let out a chuckle. "I thought I wouldn't live to see the day."

You offered an awkward smile as you and the blond sat in the seats before the Dean's desk. You silently handed him your folder. After opening it and browsing through the various concepts and sketches, Dean Highbottom closed the folder, tapping his figertips against it.

Nervousness gnawed your insides, your leg bouncing up and down in anxiety. You hadn't even noticed this, too caught up into thinking the absolute worst of the situation; until you felt a knee- his knee- press into yours. Suddenly very aware of what was happening outside your mind, you blinked once, as to come back into reality, and then again, swifting your eyes to Coriolanus besides you.

For a moment, just a moment, you saw only a pair of eyes that guaranteed comfort peering into yours, crowned by the softests of golden curls. And then you saw the snarky comments, the whole usurping-your-place scheme, the perfect grades and the annoyingly pitched voice. The smile froze on your lips. Fuck.

"So," the Dean's voice broke the silence. "Are you two dating yet? Because it would really benefit you"

Both your head and his snapped into the Dean's direction.

"Pardon?!"

"What?"

Two pairs of eyes now looked wide and with a mix of disbelief and annoyance at the Dean.

"I take it you're not." No shit.

You were still too astounded to speak. What did he mean yet? He was your proffesor. He should, must, know that everything between the two of you is rivalry. Right?

"What, um, what did you mean it would benefit us?" Coriolanus asked, his voice as thin as thread.

"Well I eyed your proposal. And it's good. More than good. It has a lot of potential. But Volumnia Gaul loves one thing more than her creations. Gossip. Drama. If she hears the two of you are dating, she'll make you the Capitol's power couple. She'll give you a story. You will become her favourites. If you want to win at all costs, I'm just giving you a shortcut." He stared at the pair in front of him."But, overall, you've done a great work. I'll leave you to ponder it and I'll alert you when Dr Gaul is ready to see you."

You nodded, as Coriolanus and you mumbled 'thank you's and 'goodbye's and 'have a nice day's before leaving the office.

Campus wasn't very crowded yet; only a couple of students could be seen lurking around. The morning still preserved its coldness, dew remained on the grass.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you started walking, the blond boy quick to catch up.

You hated how you got caught up in this mess. All because you and him needed help. And because he and you were the only answer to the other's problem.

"Y/n?" Coriolanus spoke softly. "How do you feel... about what the Dean said?"

Sighing, you replied, "I just don't know. I mean, this was all crazy before but now? I'm confused, I guess."

"Don't you think it can help us even more?" he frowned.

"But we don't need any more help. We joined forces, no one can beat us, there's no need for us to-"

"I know we can do it without Gaul's help. But it’s one thing to win this aid, and another thing to become Gaul’s favourites. Do you realise how many doors she could open for us?” Coriolanus had stopped both of you now, his body blocking your way, hands in your shoulders, eyes fixed on yours.

“C’mon, Y/n, it’s just pretending,” he pleaded. “Plus, we’re in this to help each other out, right?”

A warm smile spread over his lips, one that only encouraged you and painted a smile of your own on your mouth.

“Fine. We’ll do this lunatic shit. Since you’re not able to reach my level without my help,” you teased, moving past him and resuming your way.

“Sure, Y/n. Whatever makes you sleep at night!” you heard Snow shout behind you.

You just gave him the finger, biting back a smile as you walked away.

The news spread like wildfire through the campus. The dean's offhand comment had ignited a storm of speculation and gossip. As you navigated through the university halls, it was impossible to ignore the curious glances and hushed conversations that followed you.

The library, once your sanctuary of academic warfare, now became the epicenter of buzzing rumors. Students stole glances at you and Coriolanus, whispering behind cupped hands as you pretended not to notice. The atmosphere had shifted, and your every move seemed to be scrutinized under an invisible magnifying glass.

Your next meeting at the library felt different. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the weight of the rumors hung in the room. As you both delved into your project, the tension was palpable. Every accidental touch or shared smile now carried an added layer of significance.

By the third week, the rumors had taken a life of their own. The once reluctant collaboration now felt like an uncomfortable alliance, forged not just for academic success but to navigate the newfound attention. Your life, once a sheltering and private, now felt like a fishbowl.

The doors that led to Gaul's lab appeared impossibly big. You let out a shaky breath, one you didn't know you were holding. Bouncing your leg usually was how you showed your nerves, but, since you were standing, you settled with just a trembling pinky finger.

Cold fingers were wrapping around your hand before you knew it.

"What are you doing?" you turned to Coriolanus.

"Gaul's no fool. We have to put on our best efforts to make her believe we are together. You have to help, too. And your hands were shaking," he shrugged.

Taking a deep breath, you swallowed his words and leaned further into his arm, clinging to him like a good girlfriend would.

As if on cue, the door swung open, revealing brown and blue eyes shooting a daring look. The woman’s face was instantly lit up with a smirk.

“Coriolanus Snow and Y/n Y/l/n. The sweethearts Dean Highbottom has told me so much about,” Volumnia Gaul greeted the both of you. “Please, come inside.”

She stepped aside to let you in. The ceiling seemed to be miles away from the floor. White, ivory columns welcomed you, glass cabinets displaying all sorts of weird creatures and experiments.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Gaul commented behind you.

There was just something so... unsettling about her, something you couldn't quite place but that was ticking you off

It's for the better.

That had been your mantra for the past few days. The end justifies the means. You kept telling yourself that you didn't want this, that you were only doing this for convinience. But lately you hadn't really been feeling that way. Not when you were sitting right next to him, laughing mere seconds ago, his eyes staring into yours, not trying to intimidate you but more in an attentive way.

He thought you looked so delicate and alluring. You did often, as of late. There were a few stray strands of hair that hid your dashing smile from Coriolanus. A smile he had so recently grown so fond of.

He just couldn't resist the urge to tuck them behind your ear; his fingers a soft caress against your skin. And so he did.

His touch was feather-like, as if you were a porcelain doll that was about to break. At the sudden contact, you shifted your gaze from the papers on the table to look at him. And, god, you almost wish you hadn’t. Because he looked otherworldly just sitting there besides you, hand behind your ear, lips parted slightly, dangerously close to you.

“Your hair was getting in your eye,” he mumbled.

The proximity was going to kill you. He was invading all of your senses. And you hated it. You hated it because this wasn’t even real. It was just supposed to help you with Gaul, nothing more. You hated it because it didn’t feel that way. You hated it because this was not the Coriolanus you knew; not the Coriolanus you chose to know.

“Thanks,” you breathed.

You were scared. As pure and simple as that. This was uncharted territory for you; you had never seen this part of him. It frightened you because you were losing control over your emotions.

"Coryo..."

He was convinced you were goingo to give into his desires. You were convinced for a moment, too. But then it occurred to you that this wasn't supposed to be real. That whatever you had between you both was just a scheme. That he was just joking.

"What did you score on the last biology exam?"

You mentally cursed yourself as soon as the words left your mouth. You felt yourself involuntarily slipping away from his touch.

“100%,” he responded, frowning. “Why?”

“Guess all these time around me wasn’t enough. I got 102%,” you smiled, trying to sound (hoping to sound) less awkward than you sounded in your head.

“How’s that even possible? I thought there were no extra exercises.”

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat before continuing. “I detailed every answer more than it was needed, so.”

“Oh. Well, congrats.” His lips were pressed into a thin line that he tried to transform into a smile, but ended up just contorting his face.

You looked at the papers before you, laying in a mess on the table, surrounded by pencils, sticky notes and highlighters. Then your eyes peered at the window besides your spot. The sun was setting behind the Capitol’s skyline, painting golden and rosy hues over the library. It was getting late.

“I- I think I should go. I’d better go home before it darkens.”

Coriolanus nodded. "Cool. I'm gonna get going too."

You bit your lip as you stood up, gathering your work. Not another word was uttered until you noticed the librarian peering over at you from behind some shelves, and students at the end of the aisle were turning their heads to you.

Perks of being Gaul’s favourite couple, you supposed.

You leaned to Coriolanus’ level again, pulling him into a side hug as you whispered in his ear.

“They’re looking.”

And then, you pressed a kiss to his forehead and walked out.

Too overwhelmed thinking about that moment with Coriolanus, you missed the way his eyes stayed on you until you left the library, and the way his fingers lingered on the part of his forehead that had been in touch with your lips.

The thought of him plagued your mind as you made your way home. Not even the biting cold of the evening could take the warmth spreading over your cheeks. What was going on with you? He was the guy you hated, you used to hate, the one that was trying to take over your spot.

But your attempts to convince yourself were vain. Because you no longer felt raging hate when you thought of Coriolanus. You couldn't excatly pin what it was, but it was definitely not hatred.

Reaching inside you bag for the key of your family apartment, you sighed, as if that was going to clear and sort out your messy feelings. Yet you didn't even need to open the door, for it was opened swiftly in front of you.

"Y/n!" your father pulled you in. The frown between his brows, the worry reflected in his eyes, the way he held you. Something was not right.

"Dad, what's wrong? I-"

"It's your mom, she- she started to cough so much blood. She's unconscious now, I- I was just about to take her to the hospital."

"Oh my God." Tears stung in your eyes. You knew she was bad, worse than she'd ever been, but this was far from what the doctors had informed you about. "Shit, where's Deena?"

"Your sister's staying over at a friend's. Is there anyone who can take you for the night? Someone who knew about your mother, if it makes you more comfortable?" he asked, rubbing your arm.

Coriolanus. You hated that he was the first person to come to mind, but the truth was thas this project had swept you up from practically every other aspect of your life. You hadn't seen your best friends much, since they were also focused on their projects. Most of your time had been spent with Coriolanus. And you didn't know how to feel about that. Disgusted, you supposed. But that didn't quite match the tugging in your chest whenever you met him at the library, or the calmness that took over you when his knee pressed into your anxiously bouncing one.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so," you nodded, blinking the tears away, though they slid down your cheeks anyway.

"Good. I don't think it'd be good for you to be alone right now."

You hurriedly packed your essentIals and some extra clothes, making your way to the door. You held it open for your dad as he carried your mother.

"I'll see you soon. Be safe, Y/n," he whispered.

"You too, Dad."

You tried your hardest not to break down as you saw your father making his way to the doctor's with your mom in his arms.

But once he was out of sight, you rushed out of the filthy apartment building. As you ran through the Capitol's streets, you remembered the now wrinkled paper that he had written his address on.

"Here. My address. If you ever need it."

It sat scrunched in your coat's pocket. You kept running as your trembling hands unfolded it, and quickened your pace once you'd read the address.

You arrived at his door short of breath, cheeks reddened from the effort, tears dried from the wind. Your knuckles softly knocked at his door.

Mess. You felt like a mess. Everything you had known to this day seemed to have completely flipped around, changing everything all of a sudden. Your mind was a tangled, impossible knot of thoughts and feelings and emotions that were constantly contradicting each other.

A blonde girl opened the front door. To your blurry eyes, she looked like an angel.

"Can I help you?" she kindly prompted, a concerned frown appearing in between her brows.

"Yeah- I'm looking for Coriolanus?" you said, voice on the point of breaking.

"Come in, he'll be right here," the woman spoke, stepping aside so you could come in and closing the door right after. She sat you down on an armchair, her touch gentle and tender. "Coryo! Someone's here for you."

As soon as the words left her mouth, you heard footsteps tumbling down the hallway and into the entrance. The instant his eyes met yours, he put everything else aside. His sole focus was you. The red around your eyes, eyelashes glinting from the recent caress of tears, shaky hands, bottom lip between your teeth, and your leg bouncing up and down almost uncontrollably.

He wanted to hold you forever. Take you in his arms like you were a fragile flower, yet the most fierce of them all. Rivalry long forgotten and buried, mean comments and hurtful offenses forgiven without a second thought. He saw Y/n. Not perfect grades, not snarky remarks, not an opponent. Just Y/n. Sweet, sweet, Y/n.

And you didn't see Coriolanus Snow. The blond standing in front of you now was not the one you'd been fighting for the better part of your teenage years, even before. He was not the one competing against you. Who was him then, if not the Coriolanus Snow you had known all your life?

Coryo.

"Y/n, hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked, voice surprisingly soft, even for his cousin. He crouched down, placing a cold, calming hand on your fidgety leg.

You could feel the tears welling up again, because he was there for you.

“I… I’m going to head out,” the woman said. “I’ll be back in a while.”

Coriolanus muttered a goodbye and then she was gone. And as soon as she was, you broke down.

Burying your head in your hands, tears burnt past your eyes, flowing now freely. All that could be heard were your heavy, shaky breaths. His hand on your back, tracing small circles, made you pull your head up.

Fuck, why were you even here?

"Y/n?"

"It's my mom." You tried to dry your cheeks, only for tears to fall down again. "She-she lost consciousness. The doctors didn't even say she was that bad. And I.. I just arrived there and there was nothing I could do-" your voice broke before you could finish the sentence.

He instantly pulled you into a hug, your head hidden in the crook of his neck, arms around it. One of his hands was wrapped around your torso, safely drawing you to him, while the other was tangled in your hair.

"I am so, so, sorry," he whispered, breath tickling your ear. You only clinged to him tighter; the only thing on your mind other than your mother right then was how warm and guarded you felt in his arms.

When you finally retracted to look at him, you found your body almost leaning into him again, yearning for his embrace. You inhaled sharply.

"I'm by your side no matter what, okay?" he assured you, eyes piercing yours, hands sliding up your figure to cup your face. "I'm here for you."

You did your best to gather yourself and nod at his words. But then you felt him pulling away in the slightest. No. You wanted him close. You wanted him.

You rose a hand to his neck, fingers dancing along his skin, messing with the blond curls they could reach.

"Hey, Y/n," Coriolanus called out. "She's going to make it. She'll be okay. And so will you."

A knot formed in your throat, the prequel to infinite tears, because who was him and what was he doing to your heart?

Whatever prejudice or thought you had against him was blurrying in your mind. The person he was supposed to represent in your head was further and further from the one barely inches away from you now. And then it hit you. Right then, right there. It didn't scare you. You wanted to know this person. You wanted to give the both of you a second consideration under different lightning.

And so, you closed the gap between Coriolanus and you, as he had tried and wanted so bad to do mere hours before. His lips were warm, contrary to every other part of his body you had ever been in contact with.

For a fraction of second, he hesitated, frozen in his spot, convincing himself that this was happening, that this was real, that you were real. But once he kissed back, he just couldn't let you go.

His hands were suddenly everywhere, exploring your body and drawing you to him as he kissed you, all the desire and passion (and even the resentment, too) poured into the kiss. Coriolanus wanted to make you feel okay. Not just now. But 'now' would have to do as of that moment. And if this was how you wanted the pain to go away, so be it. Fingers digging in your hips made you leave out a mixture of a gasp and a moan, which Coriolanus used to slip his tongue inside your mouth. Everthing he did got you addicted, craving more.

You had both been sitting on the floor, but now you were climbing into his lap, pulling away for the smallest of seconds, but either way Coriolanus was quick to reunite your lips again. Your mouths danced together. Your sking tingled pleasantly under his touch; a constant fire travelling beneath his fingers. But when his hand raised to your cheek, checking for the trace of any new tears. It was simply enough to melt you on the spot.

Tugging at his hair, you angled his face to leave a trace of open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. His groan reverberated through your skin.

The pain was buried somewhere in your mind, but your heart didn’t ache in that moment; he was all your senses were taking in. And you felt safe.

#heartcereql #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you

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tightjeansjavi · 13 days

Text

My Dearest,

A/N: so, while I was in Galena for my girls trip this weekend…my friend and I went into a bookstore and that’s where the inspiration struck! Ulysses Grant wrote letters to his wife (My Dearest Julia) from June 4th, 1844 to February 2, 1854. Of course I immediately had to throw Joel into the narrative, with a twist ;) please have your tissue boxes at the ready for this one and remember, fiction can’t hurt you! Also, big thank you and kisses to @beardedjoel for sobbing along with me while I wrote these series of letters 💘 P.S I know California wasn’t founded as a state until 1850…but let’s just pretend!

~word count: 1.9k~

Summary: a series of letters written by Joel Miller, a hopeless romantic yearning for your embrace once more.

Pairing | forbidden love!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: angst, allusion to smut, infertility, pining, hopeless romantic, unrequited love, forbidden love, major character death, alcoholism, death by alcohol poisoning, yearning, no age gap, mentions of social status, somewhat historically accurate language, no happy ending, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is my dearest, +18 minors dni! (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

June 4th, 1844

My Dearest,

I am deeply remorseful for the events that transcribed three days ago. I know I have put you in an undesirable situation now with your father’s wishes for your arranged marriage to the rich banker's son. Forgive me, for I don’t care to remember his name. My dearest, do not put the blame upon yourself. If we had known that there were prying, hateful eyes watching us, I would have waited for you in the stables and not inside your chambers. Jealously drives even the sanest of people to do the unforgivable. The deep wounds your father has inflicted upon me will heal, but my heart? Oh, how it aches for you, my dearest. If I were not a coward, I would turn back and face the gallows just to see your face one last time, for what else is a man to do when he is in love? I’m heading west, like we planned in the gardens, in hopes that you will follow me and go against your father’s wishes. Please write to me soon, tell me that you are safe, and grace me with your sweet words.

Your devoted Joel.

July 13, 1844

My Dearest,

California is beautiful and my eyes are seeing the ocean for the very first time. I wonder what your view is? Last I heard you were moving to New York. Is it true? Please tell me it’s a lie. I would be naive to think that what is written in the papers to be false, but my heart is still holding on. Are you moving to New York because of me? I’m so sorry, my dearest. We should have been more careful. I can still smell your perfume, and feel the ghost of your lips on my skin. I am no poet, but if I was, perhaps your father would think highly of me.

I dream of you even in the daytime.

Please write to me, dearest.

J.M

September, 7th 1844

My Dearest,

There is a sweetness on my tongue that I have not felt the indulgence of for many moons and suns. I worried that I would never hear from you again, that I would become another distant memory fading into ash. I forbade this from happening, dearest. We are thousands of miles apart, and all I wish for is to see your face once more. Do you wish for the same, dearest? To see your Joel, to feel his warm embrace? Please don’t forget me, please. I know in your heart that you still feel for me. California calls your name as it did mine. Come back to me, dearest.

Yours most affectionately,

Joel

January 12th, 1845

My Dearest,

I have not heard from you in months and my heart cannot bare it any longer. Why do you not write to me, dearest? I’ve enrolled in classes, maybe I’ll even become the next great American author! Would your father accept me then, if I was no longer a penniless man? I think he would. Your father is a very simple man in those regards. If only my status in society didn’t matter. Do you lie awake in bed and think of me, dearest? Does your dream state float off to the thoughts of your Joel? My dearest, my love for you has not changed, only grown stronger. Has yours for me felt all the same?

Joel

July 11th, 1845

My Dearest,

I write to you with a heavy heart and an anger that has never once possessed me. Please tell me it isn’t true. That you have fallen for another, the rich banker's son? It cannot be true. The papers lie, dearest. Your heart belongs to me, does it not? It must. You promised! You said that no matter what happened, no matter the consequences, we would end up together. You spoke those words so sweetly upon my ear when I laid beneath your sheets, dearest. Back in Texas, in your abandoned home, the stench of me still lingers. When you receive this letter, close your eyes and imagine me there with you, wherever that may be. I’ll come to New York, I swear it. I’ll come find you!

Please, write to me soon, dearest. Do not allow this to be the end of our story, I beg of you.

Yours always,

Joel Miller

October, 1845

My Dearest,

This morning I write to you about the thoughts of reminiscing on our love. Something so sweet, fresh, ripened, but not yet spoiled. Do you remember the night we first met? We were just children then. All bright eyed and filled with curiosity. I remember the bows in your braided hair, your mother scolding you for them, slapping your cheek and yanking them from your braids. You wept with your face buried in your hands, and I comforted you. Your mother taught you how to curtsey, how to engage in small talk and forced you to wear those unbreathable garments that you hated so. I showed you how to run, to make mud pies and swim in the river. Do you remember the night of our first kiss? The first time our lips touched and my life held a meaning again? The foul mouthed, stable hand boy winning the affections of a girl such as you. If I bring my fingers to my lips now, I can feel your kiss there, too. I moved back to Texas, dearest. I wanted to feel closer to you. Write to me soon, and in your letter tell me that you wish for me to come to New York to be with you.

I am inconsolable without your presence at my side.

Yours devotedly,

Joel Miller

P.S. Every night I pray to the moon and stars that we will be in one another’s embrace very soon. I have never been a religious man by any means, but I find myself praying for you, my dearest.

March 29th, 1846

My Dearest,

It is spring once again, and everything is in bloom! A new family has moved into your abandoned home, and I am back to my roots. I have given up my dreams to be an author, but I write to you, still. I missed being around the horses more than you could possibly imagine. There’s a piece missing here, and that piece is you. The new family I work for has a daughter around your age. She’s pretty, beautiful even, but she’s not you, my dearest. She’ll never be you. Her hair isn’t the right length, her eyes the wrong shade, her laugh isn’t yours, her mannerisms are all wrong. She yearns for my affections, but my heart belongs to another. I will not commit adultery against you, my sweet. Even in my loneliest hours, I will not give into my sins against you. She would make a fine wife, and her parents are unlike your own, but she will never be you, and she will never possess my heart.

I yearn for you.

Your Joel

July 2nd, 1846

My Dearest,

I write to you with sweat dripping down my brow. I cannot sleep, the Texas heat has played a cruel trick upon my mind. I awoke to your voice, whispering my name through the billowing curtains. I taste your sweet kiss and the oncoming summer storm, but you are not here. Am I going insane? I fear that I am. What is the weather like in New York? Write to me soon, I beg of you.

Joel Miller

September 23rd, 1847

My Dearest,

I am facing my loneliest night yet, and I picture you laying beside me beneath my sheets. I have scrapped up enough money to finally buy you a ring! Isn’t that the most wonderful news? Tomorrow evening, after supper, I will head into town to the jewelers and buy you a ring that shines more brilliantly than the heavens above. You’ll wait for me, won’t you? Promise me that you will.

With love,

Your Joel

January, 1848

My Dearest,

Today is the day where I wish I never awoke. I wish to stay in a sweet slumber where my dreams are filled with you. You cannot marry him, please. Tell your father that you don’t accept the banker's son’s hand in marriage! He will never know you as I do, my dearest. He will never satisfy you the way that I can. He will turn his nose up at your politics, your drinking habits, your antics and wildness. But I love you as so. Come back to me, runaway with me. I can give you so much happiness if you only let me. How will your husband to-be react when he finds that you cannot bear him children? When the marriage is to be consummated, and he strips you of your skirts and touches you where only I have been, how will he feel? I worry for you, my dearest. I remember the night that we first became one. Do you still think of the way I moved in you? I still feel the phantom crescents of your nails in my back. I wish the marks left there were permanent, so I would always have a piece of you with me. Tell me that you remember the way that my kisses feel, my taste on your tongue, my voice, my body moving with yours. There was a time when you wanted to bear my children, and begged me to fill your womb with my seed. We waited and waited, but your womb never swelled with life no matter how many times we tried. You assumed my feelings for you would sour, but they only grew.

If you accept the banker's son's hand in marriage, I wish to never see the sunrise again.

Joel Miller

May 7th, 1848

My Dearest,

I have never wept more than I have this morn. I shredded the papers, I pounded my fists into the earth and spooked every horse in the stable. Even the heavens weep with me, my dearest. Can I even call you that any longer? You wear his ring upon your finger, awake beneath his sheets, smelling of him. I’m sorry, my dearest. I’m sorry I could never be enough for you. I have tried so hard, and have continued to fail. My heart aches, and I wish I could rip it from my chest and stab it till all movement ceases. I wish to not feel any longer. I have lost all hope, and I fear that my attempts to hear from you have been fruitless. My devoted letters are out there, somewhere. Or perhaps you have collected them. Perhaps you did not awaken in his sheets. Perhaps you are on your way back to me. I’ll wait for you, my dearest.

Undoubtedly yours,

Joel Miller

June 4th, 1848

My Dearest,

In my loneliest hour, I write to you. If you ever receive this letter, do not weep for me. You and I were cut from a separate cloth since birth. I was not born into wealth. I was not fed from silver spoons. My clothes are tattered, the soles of my boots are worn down. All I have to my name is my penmanship and my memories of you. Think of me sweetly, will you? I wish you only happiness and love. I have turned into a drunk, my dearest. Alcohol soothes my mind, woes, and ailments. I hear your voice so vividly when I am in this state. You’re here beside me now, watching as I write my final letter. I can reach out and touch your cheek, soft, supple. You smell of saccharine honey and lavender fields. Your laugh is my favorite tune, and I can hear it now. Sing me a lullaby, my darling as I close my eyes and dream of you for a final time. If another universe exists, I hope I am rich. I hope I am the wealthiest man who is adored by your mother and father. I hope that on the night we meet again, I present you with a ring forged from my heart, a piece of me that has forever belonged to you. I hope I am fed from a silver spoon, dressed in the finest garments, attend every gala with you on my arm as my lady, my wife, my reason to live. I hope to bless you with as many children as you so desire. I have always loved you, my dearest, from the moment we met, I have been yours.

Farewell,

Your Joel.

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hellfire--cult · 7 months

Text

Stripper!Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

wc: 7.5k

Request by @pastel-pillows: Billy gets hired for a private party. The only rules is to keep it in his pants and for the clients to not touch him... Unless he says so.

+18 MDNI, stipper dancing, grinding, hard on, fingering, roughness, p in v, billy is OOC, he is not an ass, smut, smut, smut

A/N: This is Stripper!Billy from my Do I wanna Know Series. I love you ash for this request, and I hope you and every other horny person for Billy enjoys it.

REBLOGS are true support.

no charge

Billy looked at himself once more in the mirror before grabbing his duffel bag filled with other clothes and things he would need for tonight.

He pays no mind to these kinds of jobs, and Joyce is the one that arranges them. Clients can approach her to talk about hiring one of the strippers for one night for a private gathering or party. Joyce lays down the rules for every client, and she ensures their safety by having their GPS turned on at all times in their cellphones. The job lasts two hours, and if in two hours Joyce doesn’t have any notice from them, she sends someone to the address of the place they are heading over.

The client must give many personal details such as their full name, legal address, real phone number and it is all cross checked with their IDs. Joyce is very strict when it comes to the boys' safety, so he is really thankful for her taking care of them this way. Not many bosses work the way she does, but Billy guesses it’s just her motherly instinct.

Today he was hired for a birthday party. The one that hired him was the birthday girl's best friend, and she was very direct when she asked for Billy specifically. He walked down the stairs and to see Steve playing with Eddie with the switch controllers as they stared at the screen. “Stop throwing shells at me!” Steve yells at Eddie who only laughs at his friend as he now stands at 4th place in Mario Kart. Billy rolls his eyes as he walks towards the front door.

“Hey! Remember to put the GPS on! We’ll be watching!” Eddie yells at him and Billy only sighs but internally he is grateful he is being taken care of by his closest friends as well.

“Yeah mom.” Billy retorts and then Steve is the one that speaks next.

“Don’t stick the dick in!”

Billy only groans at that and walks out of the apartment to start heading to the address of the birthday girl. He knows about the rules and the clients know about them too. This is a dance only. The only hands that can be pressed on him are just on his shoulders and if he allows them, on his chest. They cannot touch him indecently in any way or at any point. If the rule is broken he has all the right to head out because he feels uncomfortable and he gets paid in full anyway.

That happened a few times, but mostly with the older crowd. Women in their 40’s or 50’s. This party was of people his age from what he had read. He threw the duffel bag in the back of his camaro and turned on his GPS and immediately sent a message to Joyce telling her he was heading to the address. Joyce sent him a reminder to be careful and if at any point he has to bail out, to do so.

He starts his car and drives towards the suburban part of town. He has been here a few times for bachelorette parties, so he knows his way around. He looks at the piece of paper in order to get the street and number right and after driving for two more minutes, he reaches the house and he can already hear the music and some girl yelling. He looks at the window and he tries to figure out how many people are there.

A smirk spreads on his face when he sees the birthday girl.

Oh, this was going to be one of those nights.

You giggled as you danced in the middle with your best friend, your other friends cheering you on. You had put some pink lights to make the space more fun, more enticing.

It’s not every day that you turn 25, and what better way than to simply get drunk with all of your friends. It’s been so long since you had fun like this, and you can finally be free again thanks to your decision to break things off with your boyfriend after a year. The problem with him was that he was a prude, vanilla, and sadly that interfered with your feelings for him. It didn’t mean you didn’t love him, and it took a while for you to get over the breakup– even if you were the one that did it.

Attraction is very much needed in a relationship, and you had lost it completely for your ex.

He just didn’t want to try anything at all. You came up with ideas, positions and things you could both try and he didn’t find anything interesting. Not even some spanking. It became harder and harder to reach an orgasm with him, and the attraction slowly started fading away. Emotionally he was perfect, but he didn’t match that physically. It had angered you that he wasn’t even willing to try anything for you, so that also impulsed your decision to break things off.

The doorbell rang and you immediately stopped dancing with your best friend and you looked at her with a confused look on your face and then scanned the room. Everyone was here. You didn’t invite anyone else. You let go of her in order to go get the door but was stopped by her with a smile on her face.

“Don’t! Just, stay there, I’ll get it!” You were frowning at the situation but then you saw all your friends giggling with one another, Jeremiah smiling at you as he got a chair right in the middle of the room. What is going on?

“Don’t kill us…” He says to you and you are still staring at him as he looks over your shoulder and you see him giggle with a blush to his face, stepping back into his chair. Heavy boots could be heard as they walked into the living room and you slowly turned around and you really thought that a Greek god of some sort just entered your house.

He had the brightest set of eyes you’ve ever seen, piercing even, blonde curls styled and pulled back into a half ponytail with some falling towards his shoulders. He was built, and tall, and you couldn’t help but almost salivate as you stared at his plump lips. Lips that slowly spread, showing off his bright teeth to you.

“Is this the birthday girl?” The man asked and his voice just sent a shiver down your spine instantly. Your best friend snickered behind him and nodded, saying your name to him.

“This is our gift baby, from all of us.” She was smirking at you and then the room cheered. They… They got you a stripper. Oh dear god… You weren’t prepared for this, you’ve never experienced what a stripper could do, never went to a show but– You should have. If men like this work there then it is worth every penny and you were so grateful to your friends right now.

The man took a few steps towards you, his eyes locked with yours, and it might be the alcohol you’ve been drinking but everything simply grows hot as he raises a hand up and places it on your chin, tilting it upwards for you to look at him more properly.

“I’m Billy.” You were completely certain that you looked dazed, as if hypnotized by this man’s looks. You heard Jeremiah woo at him and Billy only chuckled as he leaned towards you. “One rule for you birthday girl. You don’t touch me unless I want you to, got that?”

You nod dumbly at that request, and it was going to be hard to keep your hands to yourself, but out of respect you knew you had to. Billy lets go of your chin, and he turns around to give a nod to your best friend. She bit her lip and headed over to her phone to change the music. He put a request for songs for tonight, and he had asked your preference of dance.

He wanted to know if you would like it rough, or exciting, or slow and enticing. When he gave your best friend his options, she instantly went for slow, yet rough at some parts because she said, and he quotes ‘You needed it.’. He didn’t press for more questions but Joyce did, just so she would know your mental situation and for Billy to know exactly what to do and what to not overdo.

You needed to be shown what you have been missing the past year.

Billy sat you down on the chair your friends had placed in the middle of the room as they all were sitting around it, small cheers and whistles being heard as your eyes never left Billy’s. He didn’t expect to dance for someone like you tonight. You caught his eye the moment he saw you whipping your hips from side to side as he looked through the window of your home outside.

There was this carnal need growing inside of him, but he had to focus on the job, not let it get to his head. One of the things he had to make sure of in these kinds of parties or small side jobs was to never, ever, get hard. It wasn’t impossible to do so really, since he was always the one grinding on the people, but if he does get hard it might give the wrong message, and people might feel entitled to touch him, thinking they can do it, just because he is a man with normal reactions.

‘Renegade’ by Aaryan Shah started playing on the speakers and your breathing hitched at the rain sound at the beginning of it. You took a shaky breath in as he started circling around you, his hand softly grazing all over your shoulders, and when the beat started, his hands pressed on your biceps, dragging them all the way down, slowly, and not putting pressure on his fingertips but it was enough to make your skin grow goosebumps from it.

“I’m gonna make you feel wanted…” You didn’t even notice he had gotten close to your ear from behind, his hot breath hitting your skin making you shiver and his low whisper sent a shock that reached your center. Your mind was blocking out everyone else, slowly, as if your friends weren’t cheering you on, or him for that matter.

“Please…” You replied to him and he was sure he wouldn’t be able to hear you through the music, but he did, and his eyes almost widened at your boldness. You really needed this. He took the opportunity while standing behind you to push his sneakers off by placing the tip of his foot at the back of each and pulling.

He kept circling you until he was standing in front of you again, a smirk on his face as he suddenly ripped his jacket open, taking it off in one swift motion and you were so focused on his face before that you did not notice that he was wearing a button up shirt that was half closed, showing off his chest and some of his abs.

Your breathing stopped at the sight and he chuckled at your expression. He definitely knew he was attractive, never an ounce of self doubt about that, and that’s what made this job easy for him. But there was something in your eyes that was different from the other girls and women he danced for– Something that was making his body grow a little hotter at each flick of your eyes towards his body.

There was genuine and pure lust in them.

He knew there was desire for him with all those other clients, but you… There was something else, as if you were hungry, starving even. He motioned for you to give him your hand and you took a second to notice what he was saying, raising a shaking hand to him. He licked his lips and bit the bottom one as he made you grip the middle of his open shirt, right under his pecs.

He gripped your hand tightly, and made you pull it down in one hard motion, surprising you, and all of his buttons flew away as his shirt flew completely open, revealing all of his abdomen to you. You felt your mouth salivate at the sight, the rhythm of the song blasting in your ears, making the moment much more seductive.

You were expecting strippers to be rough, manhandling you around as you’ve seen in tik tok videos, or instagram, and even magic mike, and just grinding on you aggressively. You didn’t expect this man to be moving slowly, yet it was sending fire currents all over your body at each sudden movement he did.

Billy took his shirt off and smirked as he threw it towards your other friend, Jeremiah, who squealed in delight at it. You had forgotten about your friends, and your eyes blinked as you looked around and you saw all the clapping and cheering going around, only to be pulled back into that bubble of arousal as you felt strong hands grip your chin again, and make you look up into blue orbs that were staring back at you intensely.

“Your attention is only mine tonight. Keep it that way.” Billy smirked as you stared up at him, an amused look on your face. He never expected responses from his dominance, most of the time they just nod at him and let him proceed, but you… you wiped Billy’s smirk away as you smiled at him and actually retorted back to him.

“Yes Sir.”

That word shot right to his dick. He cursed at you in his mind, shaking the feeling of rising arousal he was feeling to keep going with his job. He pulled his hand away from you only for both of your hands to be grabbed by him, pulling you up from the chair, causing you to gasp as you stand on both of your trembling knees.

He smirked at how you slightly wobbled and he made you press your hands against his chest and then guided you, very slowly, over his chest and down to his abdomen. He was expecting you to be looking at where your hands were going, but your eyes kept locked against his all the time. Your hands were on fire at every dent you passed by, at the heat of his skin, but you didn’t press your hands on him.

And for some reason, Billy was disliking that.

He licked his lips, a smirk appearing on his face as he looked down at his jeans and then back up at you. You followed his gaze and your eyes widened, looking up at him again wondering if you understood right. He guided your hands towards his happy trail, making you graze your fingertips on his V shape and he almost let out a groan at the feeling. Your eyes were now stuck at his form, feeling the soft hairs that went beneath the hem of his denims.

“Open them up.” There were cheers and whistles around at the request, but you couldn’t hear them, just the soft bass that played on the song. Your fingers swiftly unbuttoned his jeans and you took a deep breath in as you got hold of the zipper and started pulling it down. Billy could feel the tip of your thumb as you glided it down with the metal and he felt it. He felt how his bulge was slowly growing.

You looked up at him when everything was undone and he tilted his head at you, as if telling you that you are missing something. He nodded once towards the floor and back at you, and you felt your heart beating into your ears as you slowly started getting on your knees in front of him.

And Billy cursed inwardly once more. You look so fucking beautiful like this.

He almost never took his pants off at a performance. But oh he wanted to right now. He chuckled as you kept yourself on the floor and he walked to your side and then behind you. He felt himself starting to lose control of his desire because you just looked too exquisite to him. It wasn’t that the other clients were not of his liking, but you… something was coming out of your body, almost like pheromones that were pulling him in.

He pressed a hand on your shoulder and he gave you a soft push, enough to make you lose some balance and get on all fours as your hands landed on the floor. Billy couldn’t contain the smirk inside of him because you were completely unaware of your friends around you. You weren’t paying any mind to them any longer and it was all thanks to him. Now he understands what your best friend meant by you needing it.

Your heart thumped in your chest and your eyes widened when he pressed his hips against your ass, and you felt him. He was hard. It was something normal, wasn’t it? They grind on clients and it is normal for them to get hard. Billy on the other hand, couldn’t help himself as he pressed against you and that made him even harder than before, not caring any longer about the people in the room, just like you weren’t paying mind to them.

He pressed onto you even rougher, prompting you to finally lay down on the floor, hands on both sides of your head as it turned to look at him over your shoulder. Billy salivated at the hazy look in your eyes, pupils blown wide, and he chuckled at you while getting on top of your body, his face coming close to your ear, softly whispering to you.

“Stay still.” And that you did, feeling your thighs clench at his order, cheeks becoming flushed as you wondered what he was going to do. He smirked as he raised himself up on his hands as he hovered over your body and then he parted his legs even wider so he could have some leverage. His hips started swaying back and forth into a sensual motion, grazing over your bottom half every time he went down.

You gasped at the sensual movement, and you held in a groan as the wetness started to soak your underwear. This man had you in a curse at the moment, and you didn’t know if you wanted it to be cured. Were you that desperate that a stripper is making you feel this way? He is just doing his job which is just dancing, nothing more to it.

But fuck will it rise your expectations for other men now.

Billy’s eyebrow twitched as he looked down at you, and all he could think about was ripping that shirt off your body, to feel your skin under his palm. He stops grinding and his hand snakes to the front of your throat and he pulls you with him as he kneels back up. His chest presses against your back, a moan coming out of your throat.

You wanted to take your hand back, to be able to touch him, rub him, feel him. But your hands were kept in place, not wanting this to be over. If you did as you desired he will stop this and leave, and that’s the last thing you want. Billy couldn’t contain himself as he broke his own personal rule and pressed his bulge against your ass, and you heard him growl in his throat.

Your head was spinning and suddenly you felt his free hand grip yours, and your eyes widened when he guided you to where you wanted your hand to actually be. He made you stick your hand into his open pants and you could cup his hardness into your hand. His breath was in your ear and you were sure he was giving you permission now to do as you please, so in front of everyone, you moved your hand, slowly, up and down on his bulge.

Billy had made up his mind at this point. He is going to break every single rule, every single warning sign thrown out the window. He was going to get his phone out of his bag, message Joyce, and Eddie and Steve that he will take a little bit longer. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his fingers splayed all over your throat, massaging it gently, and his lips came close to your ear, his hot breath fanning onto it.

“Can I give you a present?” He felt you stiffen, and he smirked as your hand stopped rubbing on him due to shock, but then he groaned into your skin as you began to move your hand even harder on him, surprising him as you turned your head to look at him with a smirk on your face.

“A gift?” You dared to ask and he could only smile at you, his lips coming close to yours, hovering over them, and you were dying to move forward and press them against his. You wanted to taste this man, and the next words he said to you made your body tremble suddenly with an urgent need.

“No charge.”

That’s when he pushed you off him and your eyes seemed to come back to reality for a few seconds, the yelling and cheering from your friends sipping into your ears. Sounds you had blocked out completely all this while, dissociating from the world that was around you and Billy. You looked up towards your best friend who had a wide eyed look on her friend as she covered her mouth with her hand.

Billy walked around you, a smirk on his face all the while, and he went to grab his bag that he left on the front door, winking at your best friend as he passed by, and then he turned around to face you again, tilting his head as if waiting for you to make the next move.

“Turn the music all the way up.” Those were your simple instructions and your friends cheered on you as you walked towards the stripper you met just a few moments ago. Your best friend gave you a wink and a motion for you to not lock the door. Your friends protected you just in case… because Billy is still a stranger. No matter what the job is, he still is one and you don’t know him.

What you do know, is the size of his dick. And you definitely need it inside of you.

You walk towards him to get hold of his free hand, his jeans still unbuttoned and open, the bulge just trying to break free from them. You gave him one look as if asking one last time if it was okay and he gave you a wink with a teeth showing grin. You turned the both of you and headed upstairs as the music started to increase in volume. You didn’t really care if your friends heard you, not when you deserved this.

Billy took the opportunity that you had your back towards him to take his phone out of the side pocket of the bag as it hung on his shoulder. He texted his friends and then Joyce. His boss knows what it means when they say it’s taking a little longer, no need to clarify. She always sends a be careful and to keep the GPS on. Eddie is the one to reply to him and he almost lets out a snort at the message.

‘Wrap it.’

Billy puts the phone back in the bag, and then grabs onto the small metallic package he has there, tucking it into his back pocket, as you walk down the hallway of your home. Billy was amazed by your age and the fact that you own a home. None of his business on how you got it, but it was still intriguing. The music, even if loud, was becoming distant, even if a bit, and you were happy your room wasn’t above the living room.

You opened the door to your bedroom, and the nerves finally kicked in. All the confidence you had earlier on to make a move were now squashed as you turned around to see Billy closing the door behind him, looking down at you as his bag dropped to the floor. Your breathing stammering slightly, not knowing how to move on from here. It’s been so long since you’ve been with a man other than your ex, so you didn’t know how to start this off like you used to.

But Billy knew what you needed, from the moment he saw you, the moment your best friend said your preference. He knew, and he was glad you needed something like that because he loves it that way.

His hand shot up suddenly, grabbing you by the shoulders and turning you both around so that he could slam you against the closed door. You gasped at how he manhandled you so effortlessly and just took you completely by surprise. He towered over you, gazing down at your eyes and you could feel your knees trembling at how intense his eyes were. His hand raised up to put it under your chin and hold your eyes to his own.

“You need it badly, don’t you? You need a real man–” He pressed his hips against yours and you could feel his bulge against your lower belly, making you whimper against your throat. “To treat you like you deserve.”

You felt yourself clench at nothing in his voice. He had you in the palm of his hand, and his eyes were looking down at you, as if waiting for something. This man knows you want him, but you also know that this man wants you just the same, and that is boosting your ego and your confidence. You never imagined a guy like him to look twice your way… but here he was. A smile spread on your lips as you answered back to him.

“Yes sir~”

At your purr Billy’s lips instantly slammed on yours, a moan escaping your mouth and into his as he did so. His hands moved towards your wrists and he grabbed onto them, pulling them up above your head and using one hand to hold them together and staying there. You were surprised at the sudden movement, a whine coming out of your mouth, while his lips were pulled into a grin in between the kiss.

His lips moved against yours, roughly, seeking for more as his body fully pressed against yours, chest against chest, and his other free hand went towards your neck, pressing your head against the door as well. You felt yourself becoming wetter by the second, and you moaned in surprise as his thigh came in between your legs, pressing harshly against your center, the seam of your jeans pressing just right against your clit.

He chuckled into the kiss and pulled away, barely, so he could look at your face. Your eyes turned half lidded and wanton moans escaped your lips every time he pressed his knee even harder on you. He took his tongue out and ran it through your bottom lip, gently. You tasted divine, but he wasn’t here to be gentle tonight. He knew you didn’t want him to be gentle either.

Your hips started moving against his thigh, and he looked down at your movements as you rode him. He felt his cock twitch in his underwear, and he looked back up to your face and he took his hand away from your neck. He was surprised to hear you whine at the loss of his grip, but he then started sliding his hand down, reaching the button of your pants, making your eyes snap wide to look at him.

“Let me show you what you’ve been missing, sweets.” The grip on your wrists tightened as he unbuttoned your jeans and pulled your zipper down. You couldn’t hear the music or anything but your beating heart. It was just a constant pumping of blood in your ear. You felt his fingertips slide into the elastic of your panties, and you shivered at the tickling sensation he was leaving behind each time he inched closer to your cunt.

“Please, please Billy…” You begged, and who was Billy to deny you when you asked so nicely? He smiled down at you as his fingers found the bundle of nerves that made a moan come out of your lips without shame. He gave it a few circling motions and your hips were trying to grind against him.

His face leaned down towards your neck, inhaling deeply to take in your scent, your perfume. You whimpered when you felt his hand moving lower and his lips closing onto the skin of your neck, leaving kisses over it. You gasped when he suddenly ran his fingers through your drenched folds, making your skin flush completely, a chuckle escaping his lips and onto your neck.

“Look how wet you already are, baby.” Your arms were starting to hurt from being pinned for this long above your head, but that pain was thrown out of the window when you felt a finger of his running over and over your folds in order to wet it before entering you. You gasped as you threw your head back, leaving Billy more access to your neck.

He was becoming drunk of how wet you were for him as he pumped his finger in and out of you. Damn, he really wanted to taste you now, but he had to move quickly. He couldn’t spend the night here, nor take his sweet time with you. At least… not today.

“Billy– Billy, fuck–” You were moaning his name, and he couldn’t help himself but bite onto your neck as he inserted a second finger in you, his pace quickening. You couldn’t believe how good you could feel with just fingers. He was curling them in the right position, hitting your spongy spot over and over, rubbing his fingertips against it.

He let go of your neck in order to kiss you again so he could swallow your moans into his throat. He took the opportunity of your mouth being open and his mouth instantly slipped in, clashing against yours. You tasted divine. If you tasted like this in your mouth, his resolve of not eating you out was wavering.

His tongue danced with yours, his fingers going deep inside you, curled as he pressed the belly of his palm against your clit and moved his hand rapidly back and forth, making the movements of your tongue falter as loud moans went from your throat to his. He pulled away in order to hear you and your loud whimpers were music to his ears.

“Fuck, look at you…” He was mesmerized by you, your head thrown back onto the door as his fingers kept moving. He then stopped all together, making you whine at the loss of friction. You were feeling so good and he decided to stop now? His hand finally lets go of your wrists and you sigh in relief as you pull them down to your sides once again. His fingers leave you, and he pulls them out of your underwear to look at them.

You are looking at him as he smirks at you, taking his fingers into his mouth, his eyes closing as he tastes you on his tongue. Fuck, you were sweeter down there. He should have eaten you out instead of fingering you. He moaned into his fingers and you clenched onto nothing at the sound.

When his fingers left his mouth, he opened his eyes to find yours. His hands then grabbed the hem of your pants and he crouched in order to pull them down along with your now soaked underwear. You couldn’t help but blush in embarrassment. You stepped out of them and he stood up as he scanned you again.

“W–What?”

“Take your shirt off.” You gulped at how demanding he sounded, but you complied in just a second. You pulled your shirt over your head and threw it across the room. He raised a finger towards the strap of your red lace bra, pulling it to only let it go so it would snap against your skin, making you gasp. “Cute, but it needs to go too.”

You lick your lips and you take your hands behind you to unclasp your bra. His eyes were digging holes onto every part of your body from how intense he was looking at you. You took the bra off and threw it somewhere, and you really didn’t care if it got lost. He stood there, just taking your naked body in. His dick twitched again and he knew this was his limit.

You saw him reach behind him and then put something in his mouth. Your eyes widened when you saw the aluminum foil square that is in between his teeth. He smirked at you as he pulled his pants and boxers down. He didn’t step out of them just yet, and one of his hands grabbed onto the foil, and with his teeth he ripped it open, taking the rubber out.

Your eyes went down towards his dick and, holy shit. He was huge. Your sense of touch was spot on before. His bulge felt… bulky, and now you can confirm it was because he was big. He followed your gaze and he chuckled, making your eyes look back up at him again. He licked the inside of his bottom lip as he handed the rubber to you.

Your breathing was heavy as you grabbed onto it, and you pressed onto the tip to then roll it down onto his cock. He threw his head back in a circle at the feel of your hands around him. The primal part of him switched on, and he was going to show you what he could do, what the others didn’t dare to do to you.

Your hands immediately flew away as you saw him crouch again, his hands cupping right under your ass and prompting you to jump. His hands cupped your ass tightly, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, your legs around his waist so you wouldn’t fall. He smirked at you as he pressed you harder against the wall so he could take one hand away from your ass so he could line himself up to you.

You threw your head back, a loud moan escaping you as you start feeling the stretch of him entering you. His hand went back to cupping your ass, holding you up and onto the wall. He cursed under his breath as he felt how tight you were. He kept moving forward into you, gasps escaping your lips that caused him to grin at you.

“Fu-Fuck–” You were already cock drunk, and he hadn’t bottomed out yet. You heard him call out your name to you and you looked down to see him smirking at you, making you frown slightly only for him to slam himself inside of you in one motion, knocking the air out of your lungs in a choke.

“You’re so fucking tight, you’re sucking me in.” He groaned out as he felt you clenching around him, adjusting to him as you writhed on his hold. He then moved his hips back and then back in, first in a slow movement as he started building up in tempo, each minute that passed.

Moans soon filled the room, the slamming of your body against the door as he thrusted in and out of you as you started falling into a state of euphoria. You never felt like this before. You had your share of experiences, but it was never like this, and he just stuck his dick in. He didn’t do anything special, but the foreplay and the edging was enough to make you lose your head the instant he put the tip in.

Your hands were digging onto his shoulders as you chanted his name like a mantra, bodies becoming sweaty as he started increasing his pace, your moans becoming louder and some whimper were thrown into the mix as well. His pelvis was hitting against your clit thanks to the position as well, the burning in your belly starting to form.

“It feels so good, it feels so fucking good–!” You were starting to moan out words, things you never did before. You never liked dirty talking and that was because it had never been done to you. He chuckled and you felt him grip onto your ass cheeks even tighter and he pulled you both off the door so he could stand up straight, his back a little bit bent backwards.

“Yeah?” He smirked as he used his strength to raise you up and then make you fall down on his dick again. You moaned loudly at that, the new position letting him hit your G-spot perfectly. His hands guided you up and down so you would bounce on his cock, your arms now wrapped completely around his shoulders.

You nodded dumbly as you felt your eyes becoming teary from how deep he was hitting you and it never stopped, in and out, in and out. Your mouth fell open with silent moans, with whimpers, whines, groans, huffs of air. Billy was trying to hold them in, but you felt exquisite on his dick, tight, and clenching every so often, so many grunts escaped into the air from his throat.

“Shit– Oh god–” Your belly was burning, the coil turning, tightening, and he could feel it, so he braced himself on his feet in order to slam you even harder down on his dick in a slow pace. Your eyes were wide as you looked up at the ceiling, your vision starting to go white as the burning sensation came closer and closer, your walls clenching around him repeatedly.

“Come on baby, cum on my dick, come on… Let me feel you.” The dirty talking did it for you. The elastic band snapped instantly, and you let out a loud cry of his name as your walls clenched tightly around him and he growled as he tried to move but you were sucking him in and not letting go. Your legs trembled around him as your nails started to dig on his back.

He rode your high until he felt you unclench, the both of you breathing heavily as he sits inside of you. He could feel your body starting to slump on him, making it harder to keep you up. He licked his lips and backed up towards your bed, turning around to throw you into it. It took you by surprise, snapping you back to reality, looking up at him through the tears of your eyes.

“You didn’t–?” You asked innocently and Billy only smirked through his panting.

“On all fours.” He ordered and you took a deep breath in to hide the gasp as you complied, your ass facing him as your knees and hands were on the mattress of the bed, your calves and feet hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Like this?” You ask as you wiggle your ass for him, teasingly, and Billy was surprised you still had this spark in you. Maybe it was a spark that never came out before because the chance had never presented itself for you.

“Put your fucking ass up.” You gasped at how rough he sounded, but a small smirk appeared on your face as you slowly laid your upper body down on the bed, your back arching forward so you could stick your ass out even more for him.

“Like this~?” You purr this time and you hear a hum of approval, only to then feel a hand slamming against one of your ass cheeks, causing you to choke out a moan in surprise.

“What a view.” He was salivating as he looked at the roundness of your cheeks, wanting to sink his teeth on your flesh. You wiggled your ass at him again and he chuckled in desire as he raised his hand up to slap your other ass cheek, making you yelp and clench onto thin air, a smile on your face that was on the mattress. “Forward.”

You complied and moved your body a little more into the middle of the bed so he could kneel in between your legs. He grabbed onto his dick and rubbed the tip on your clit, slapping it a few times which caused you to whimper. He pressed the tip in through your fold and didn’t wait for a second to grab your hips and slam himself back into you.

You moaned against the bed as his pace turned brutal, piercing even. He didn’t do the slow pace at first like before, but you didn’t mind the roughness, you actually loved it. This is what you always needed, what you always wanted, and it was finally being given to you.

Billy threw his head back as his eyes closed at how much you were clenching around him still thanks to the overstimulation. He growled when he looked down at the bouncing of your ass against his hips, seeing himself going in and out of you. He raised his hand up and smacked your ass again, seeing it jiggle as he kept thrusting in and out of you.

You choked out a moan and he could see the smile on your face as he repeated the action, two and three more times. He smirked as he pulled himself forward, and his hand came to the side of your head, and he pressed you against the mattress even more, making you instinctively raise your ass up even more as your knees slid down a little bit.

His thrusts became deep and the sound of skin slapping bounced from wall to wall. Your moans were muffled against the mattress, and your smile was still on your lips as his hand pressed even harder on the side of your head. You were immediately feeling the burning sensation in your belly and you wanted him to touch you, you needed it again.

“Billy, Billy, I need to cum again, please–” SMACK.

“You’re going to cum with my cock only, so fucking take what I give you.” You moaned at his words, your bodies going back and forth from how deep he was moving in you.

“Yes Sir, yes Sir!” His dick twitched inside of you at your chants, and he groaned loudly mixed with a moan as he felt his balls clench with the need to cum. He needed to cum while you clenched around him, and he knew you were close thanks to your walls fluttering every so often as he kept thrusting into you, his hand still pressing onto your head.

The thrill of it, the roughness and the sound of his groans from how good he was feeling with you made your belly explode again, even harder than before. You yelled onto the mattress as your vision turned white, your mind becoming mush as you clenched tightly around him as if it were a life source.

“Fuck–” He gave more thrusts, fast and deep ones until the last two faltered slightly and then a moan escaped his lips as he spilled into the condom. He trembled as ropes of cum left him, one after the other. He was breathing heavily as he tried to come back to earth. He looked down at you and he let go of your head to reveal you huffing for air against the mattress. “You with me?”

You gave him one nod and he winced when he pulled out of you, slowly, and you whined at the emptiness of it. He pulled the condom off and he was surprised by how much he had spilled inside of it. It’s been a while since he came this hard. His eyes turned to your figure and a smirk appeared on his face. He called out your name and that made you snap back into reality, turning around on the bed to lay down on your back.

“Yeah…?” It was a soft moan, your breath still trying to settle into a normal rhythm again.

Billy came back home only to find Eddie still up and talking on the phone with his girl.

“It’s 1 AM. What are you two doing up?” Billy groans as he walks towards the kitchen, throwing the duffel bag onto the floor. He was wearing the extra clothes he took in there, and Eddie examined him, up and down.

“Well… was it a good show?” Billy opened the fridge and took a water bottle out and took a long sip out of it. He looked at Eddie a smirk forming on his face once more.

“I may have found a student myself.”

A/N: Im getting to write my pending requests, so be patient with me. I hope you all enjoyed this smutty thing, and I love billy so sue me.

I love you ash.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove request #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove smut #stripper!billy hargrove #stripper!billy #do i wanna know #diwk #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove one shot #billy x reader #billy x you #billy hargrove stranger things

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starrystormwritings · 1 month

Text

The Water Is Fine

Master List <3 Request List <3 Marauders Master List <3

James Potter x Black! Reader

A/n: This is inspired by the song The Water Is Fine by Chloe Ament and I tried to write proper conflict in this and I don't think it's great lol

Summary: After retuning home for Christmas you end up following in the footsteps of Sirius.

Warnings: Blood, cuts, abuse, swearing, arguing, she/her, reader is a member of the Black family and is the same age as Sirius but isn't called a twin or described in anyway.

Word Count: 2890

(NOT MY GIF)

I walked into the great hall with a quicker pace than normal since I'd accidentally slept in a little and still wanted time for breakfast before the train left for Christmas break.

I spotted my brother and our friends sat on the Gryffindor table laughing at something as I approached, causing my speed to pick up even more.

"Morning!" I said whilst wrapping my arms around James's shoulders from behind him before pressing a quick kiss to his head and taking a seat in the spot left empty next to him.

"You're cutting it very close." James said with a laugh, kissing my cheek in response, his arm resting over my shoulders as I began to load my plate with breakfast.

"I know, I slept in and realised I hadn't done my packing."

"Organised as ever." Sirius said with a laugh, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"You're one to talk." Remus laughed from next to him.

James coughed awkwardly and looked down at me with a more serious face, "So, have you made up your mind on where you're spending Christmas?"

James and Sirius had been trying to persuade me to spend Christmas with the Potters for weeks now, Remus was spending New Years there as well and Peter only lived five minutes away so we could all be together.

I shook my head slightly and turned away from the boy, picking at the breakfast in front of me. "I don't know still, I'll decide on the train."

"C'mon love, please? I don't like the idea of you being stuck in that house with those people for two weeks. They won't even let you send me an owl so I know you're okay."

His pleading was cut off by the squawking of the owls delivering the mail from above us.

Two small black envelopes were dropped onto the table in front of us, causing me and Sirius to look at each other with an identical worried look in our eyes.

I picked up the one addressed to me and inspected it for a moment. Looking up and over at the Slytherin table to see Regulus already looking at me nervously, the same black envelope in his hands.

I sighed and slowly opened it, the silence that had now taken over our small group as they watched me and Sirius not helping with the anxiety growing in the back of my throat.

'Dearest Y/n, You are expected for an appearance at the Black home immediately for the Christmas holidays. Alliances must be made immediately and we intrust in you to make the correct decision. Orion and Walburga Black.'

I look up from the paper to see Sirius rolling his eyes and using his want to quickly set his letter aflame.

"They can't be serious." James said from next to me, obviously reading from over my shoulder.

"On what part?" I said with a sigh, folding the letter into a small square and slipping it into my pocket.

"On what part? The allegiances must be made part, obviously!" He said with a raised eyebrow.

"You can't be seriously considering still going? After what they're obviously asking from us?" Sirius said, giving me an unreadable look as he shook his head.

"We don't know exactly what they're asking yet. I mean I don't know how they'll react if neither of us go!" I look over his shoulder to see regulus looking at me again, his hands shaking slightly as he held the letter, his nervousness obvious to anyone.

"It's obvious what their asking Y/n, your not stupid. They want a decree of allegiance to the dark lord what else?" Sirius said, obviously pissed of that my letter wasn't in a pile of ashes next to his.

"Sirius I can't leave Regulus there alone! They probably just want us to attend a meeting or something. I might even get some information that could help Dumbledoor. I have to go Reggie's can't deal with this alone."

He huffed at me, quickly standing from the table angrily "Well I hope you have a very merry fucking Christmas then, I'll see you in the new year if you haven't already been made into a death eater."

He stormed out of the hall before I could respond, Remus running after him with an apologetic look.

I pushed the plate in front of me away, suddenly loosing my appetite.

"You okay?" James asked gently, rubbing my shoulder.

I sighed and nodded, spotting Regulus trying to wave me over in the corner of my eye.

"I will be. I just need to sort this out."

~~~~~

It was obvious that Sirius didn't want me joining their carriage on the way back and since I didn't fancy the idea of sitting with Reggie's friends either I decided to just look for an empty carriage.

After finally finding one at the end of the train I took a seat, pulling the letter out of my pocket and re-reading it again and again.

"Mind if I join you?" My boyfriend's voice said from the doorway.

I looked up with a smile, scrunching the paper back into my pocket as I nodded at him.

"Of course you can."

He smiled back and took the seat next to me, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips before pulling me into his side for a hug.

"What're you thinking?"

I shrugged slightly and sighed again.

"Honestly James I don't know what to do. I don't want Sirius to be mad at me and I'd love to spend the next two weeks with you but I don't think I can bring myself to leave Reggie there alone. I know what that house is like James, I know what they do. I always had Sirius, I wouldn't have gotten through it alone. He needs me there."

James took a deep breath, obviously upset by the conversation.

"Y/n/n I know what you mean, but please. I'll do anything if you followed me off this train and spent the next two weeks in my house, singing carols, opening presents, cuddling by the fire and drinking hot chocolate. That's what Christmas should be, not being in that cold house. I don't know what it's like I know, but from what Sirius has told me I know that you shouldn't be there. Please, I'm begging you."

I looked up at him to be met with desperate eyes. I lent in to press another soft kiss against his lips, letting my fingers caress his cheek even after I pulled away.

He rested his forehead against mine and used his arm to try and pull me even closer.

"I'm sorry James, truly. But I can't spend Christmas happy knowing what they might be doing to him. I'll be okay. I promise."

He didn't respond for a moment before just giving me a small nod and pulling me tight against his chest.

~~~~~

My mother was furious when Sirius followed after James at the station, and she was even more furious when James gave my head a gentle kiss goodbye.

She harshly gripped Regulus's arm and apparated away without looking at me.

I sighed before looking over my shoulder to see James, Sirius and Peter looking at me.

I offered a small wave and apparated away before they could respond and possibly convince me to change my mind.

As I appeared in the living room of my house I was met with my family and a few faces of men I hadn't met before.

"Follow me." My mother's voice said sternly as she swept away from the room and down the corridor.

I glanced over at Reggie who looked terrified and offered him a reassuring smile before following after her into my bedroom.

"So the Potters have sunk their teeth into you as well?" She asked after the door was shut.

Her voice still made my blood run cold, although her intimidating presence no longer held the same effect as it did when I was younger.

"I'm here aren't I?" I tried to sound strong, self assured. Like a Black would.

"Their a family of blood traitors, just like your brother. There will be no more of that from now on."

I didn't respond to that, instead just looking away from her eyes and clearing my throat to try and build my confidence again.

"What was that letter about?"

She straightened up slightly, obviously ready to deliver news that she knew there would be a reaction to.

"As you know things are changing, the Dark Lord is rightfully raising to power and it has become time for everyone to decide what they think is right. As you know your brothers already made his decision and we will have no more embarrassment put on this house. Orders have been put in place to ensure that."

"Orders?"

"You and Regulus are lucky to hold the Black family name and we expect you to wear that privilege with pride. That means no more messing about with the Potters it's time to make your family proud. Your allegiances will be cemented today and you my dear, will be Married off to the Rosier boy to continue this noble bloodline and ensure that you don't follow in your good for nothing brother's footsteps."

I looked at her dumbfounded for a second. "Evan? You can't be serious-"

Before I had a chance to argue my point I was cut off by the sound of Regulus's screams from the other side of the door.

"What was that? What're they doing to him!" I rushed towards the door but she had caught my wrist before I could move.

"Your brother is making the correct decision."

"Decision, what?" I looked at her with confusion before my eyes caught a glimpse of the mark that covered her arm and I felt a chill down my back at what was happening.

"No. No way. He's sixteen you can't brand him like that!" I ripped my arm away from her and made a move towards the door. Before I could open it though I felt a sharp cutting pain shoot up my leg.

I fell to the floor with a yelp and looked up to see my mother holding her wand sternly towards me.

The sharp burning pain was agonising but I clenched my teeth as hard as I could, refusing to give in.

"You are an adult Y/n. This is your birth right. Take it." She lent down and grabbed my arm, yanking me up to her height again. The weight on my burning leg causing me to let out a short scream.

"This isn't right. I'm not allowing you to do this to me, to him. I won't do it. I'm not marrying Evan, and I'm sure as hell not pledging my allegiance to the Dark Lord!" I shouted through gritted teeth, tears quickly streaming down my cheeks despite my best efforts.

She let go of the spell she had cast against my left leg, causing me to let out a breath of relief despite feeling the blood dripping into my shoes.

"I am your mother." Her wand now pressed against my arm, hard. "This is my blood that runs in you, the blood of hundreds of years of purity and strength. The blood of the noble house of black! This blood runs thicker than anything. You are my daughter! My skin! My flesh! My soul! You have no say in the matter, you do as I say or you pay for it!"

I could feel blood dripping from my wrist as well now, I glanced down to see the shape of a T and an R being carved against my skin in her neat handwriting.

I took a couple shaky breathes, and thanked Merlin that my adrenaline seemed to numb the pain slightly.

"I am not my family. And maybe if you weren't you would still have a son and daughter. You are a sick, sad, bitter woman who'll live the rest of her life in misery until she dies a forgetful and deserved death. You'll rot."

She stared at me, her wand pushing harder against my arm as the pain quickened. Neither of us spoke for a second before I ungritted my teeth so I could spit on her face.

She didn't respond for a second, her face full of fury before I felt a swift sting to my face as she slapped me, hard.

She'd used magic to punish me and Sirius before, but never her own hand.

She screamed before withdrawing her wand from my arm and casting a spell that dropped me back to the floor, screaming in pain as my whole body felt like it was on fire.

I laid there for a second, trying to muster the strength to move as she held the spell over me. I thought of Sirius and Regulus, and us playing outside by the lake as kids. And I thought of James and how he held me, how he made me feel save and happy. How he taught me what a home actually was.

My hand shifted to the pocket of my robes slowly, gripping my wand as tightly into my hand as I could.

I used any and all the strength I had left to pull it out, casting a spell I never thought I would against my own mother.

"Crusio!"

She dropped to her own knees with a scream, calling me every name under the sun as she writhed on the floor.

I watched horrified for a second before I saw the door open, my father's furious face prompting me to apparate out of there as quickly as I could before he could reach me.

Before I knew what was happening I was laying on the porch of the Potters house, every bone in my body burning and aching as I used the only strength I had left to weakly knock on the door.

It took a second but before I knew it the door opened to the smell of firewood, mint and vanilla and I knew he was there.

"Y/n? Merlin!"

I felt his arms wrap around my and lift me off the floor and the second I entered his embrace I allowed myself to let go, to cry.

"Mum! Dad! Sirius! Help! Please!"

The panic in his voice caused me to grip onto his shirt as hard as I could and that's the last I heard before everything went silent.

~~~~~

I woke up in the most comforting bed I could image. The reassuring smell of James engulfed me and soothed my aching body as my eyes adjusted to the warm light of the room.

James was asleep on the arm chair next to the bed, a worry line creasing his forehead and I felt a pang of guilt in my gut for what I probably put him through.

I sat up slightly, feeling a pain shoot up from my leg. I looked under the covers to see that my leg had been carefully wrapped in a bandage up to my knee and I spotted from the corner of my eye that my arm had a matching one.

I slowly unwrapped my arm to assess the damage and let out a quiet gasp when I saw the word 'traitor' neatly carved against my skin.

I felt a few tears roll down my cheek as I quickly tried to wrap it back up, not wanting to look at the word.

"My mum said it shouldn't scar, Pomfrey is coming by tomorrow with some ointment for it. If it does leave any mark it should be faint. Your leg was the problem." James's sleepy voice said from next to me, he carefully took my arm to re-wrap the bandage himself since my hands were shaking to much.

"Jamie I'm so sorry." I said with a sniff, causing the boy to frown at me.

He walked around to climb into bed next to me, pulling me into his arms gently.

"None of this is your fault, at all. You don't deserve any of it." He kissed my hair, letting his face rest there for a moment.

"I should've just came back with you. I tried to get to Reggie, I really did. But it was already too late and she wouldn't let me go to him. She wanted me to get the mark and marry Rosier, Regulus already has it. I couldn't help him." I cried softly into his shoulder as he smoothed my hair comfortingly.

"You're never going back there, they can't hurt you anymore. Regulus will be okay, he's welcome here if he decides to leave. But I'm here now, nothings going to hurt you when I'm around. I promise."

I nodded, allowing him to wipe the tears from my cheeks before leaning in to kiss him.

I was safe in his arms, in his bed, in his home. The looming knowledge of the war was pushed away by his room. The sense of home breaking my thoughts away from anything other than him.

Him and his soft hair, his infectious smile, his gentle laugh and his addictive touch.

"I love you so much." I said as his lips pulled away, resting my head against his and rubbing our noses together softly.

"I love you too"

#x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #harry potter #marauders x reader #sirius black #marauders #marauders era #hogwarts #james potter x reader #james potter #regulus black #house of black

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stevenose · 8 months

Text

not the name you say (18+)

day 30/31 of the august writing challenge

today’s word: mask

contains: steve x reader; friends to ???; high!steve + high!reader; smoking; pillow humping; mutual masturbation; kissing; perv steve AND perv reader; kinda gross steve

a/n: my favorite one i’ve written methinks <3

“So,” Steve says, thick brows scrunching together, eyes hardly open. “How do you usually get off?”

You laugh. “What?”

“What?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

Steve shrugs, seeming a little confused with why you’re so confused. He makes grabby hands towards the joint between your index finger and middle finger. “Gimme.”

You take another inhale and ash it before handing it off to him. “I think you’ve had enough.”

He frowns and furrows his brows again. “Why?”

“You’re starting to get perverted.”

He scoffs, then takes a deep inhale. You take a moment to soak him in. Wrinkled dark green shirt, a pair of sweatpants. White socks. His hair is messy in his face and yet it still looks like it’s been styled that way. The tip of his broad, straight nose lights up with the ash from the joint as he breathes in. The smoke he exhales acts as a mask, shrouding his features.

“I’m not perverted,” he says. “I’ll tell you how I do it if it’ll make you feel better.”

“I feel like you don’t have many options.” You watch the ash on the joint get longer and the paper become shorter, closing in on Steve’s fingers. You’re careful to watch to make sure he doesn’t get burned, but you forget why you’re staring after a few seconds.

“That’s not true,” he insists, ashing the joint out on his bedroom carpet. “I have tons of options. We could use our hand, or we can use our hand with lotion, or we can use one of those toys that looks like a pussy -“ he giggles, eyes squirting further. “We can hump a pillow, we can hump the bathtub -“

“You’re insane,” you laugh, reaching for the joint. You take one more drag before putting it out on the green ashtray on Steve’s desk. “You ever tried that?”

“Not the bathtub, but I’ve gotten off on my pillow before.”

You blink slow, shocked. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.” He takes out a lighter and starts playing with it, flicking his wrist over the flame quickly to not burn his fingers. You grab it from him and place it beside the ashtray.

“Please don’t tell me I’ve used the pillow in question.”

“Oh, no,” he assures. “I keep it in my closet.”

Then he’s up and stumbling towards the closet, pulling the door open and disappearing for half a second before reappearing with the article in question. You stare. It looks like a normal pillow. White pillowcase, no obvious staining. You scrunch your nose. “Ew, Steve.”

He shrugs. “Have you ever tried it?”

“No!”

“You should!” he says. “Here, let me show you.”

“What?” you laugh, your face heating up. “You can’t -“

“No no no no no,” he waves you off, getting onto his bed. “I’m just gonna show you how, I’m not gonna - like, fuck it.” He folds the goddamn thing in half, then mounts it. “You just kinda do that, and then rub yourself on it. Grind on it, you know? You really should try it.”

Your curiosity gets the better of you. “Is that how you normally get off?”

“Not telling! I asked you first!”

“I don’t know! I - I have a few options, too, okay?”

“Try this,” Steve says, and he grabs another pillow on his bed, a clean one. He beckons you over with his head and hand. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

“That’s fucked up,” you say, and you don’t totally believe it. Or maybe you do and you’re just trying to ignore it. “Isn’t that like fucking?”

Those brows furrow again. “No? I’m not even gonna touch you.”

You’re sore between the legs, anyway, and high, so you get up and stumble onto his bed. You’re wearing black cotton shorts, so you can feel the plushness between your legs rather well. With the pillow folded in half, you climb onto it, bursting into laughter once you do.

“This is so weird.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Don’t knock it til you try it, ‘kay?”

“‘kay.”

“Now grind down on it. Let it catch on you.”

Experimentally, you do so, and it does feel good. It feels just about as good as your palm rubbing against you. It’s dull and not targeted but still enjoyable. And with how sensitive you get while high, it feels pretty alright.

“Like that,” he praises. His hips aren’t moving. He’s simply instructing. “Don’t be afraid of it, you can use it.”

“What do you think about when you do this?” you ask, continuing to grind. Watching Steve is stirring something in you even if he’s just sitting innocently.

“Specifically?”

“Well, like, do you think about fucking someone?”

“I always think about fucking someone.”

“Well, yeah.”

“I think about fucking someone, or their tits,” he clarifies, hands gripping on to the edge of his pillow. “It’s not as wet but if I’m high enough it can work.”

Your breath catches at the idea - of him jerking off, and of him fucking you. You grind down a little harder, not really thinking about it. “Who do you think about?”

He stares at you for a really long time, though it’s probably only a few short seconds. His auburn eyes seem lost in thought, contemplative. “You know,” he finally says. “People that come into work or whatever.”

“Oh,” you say, a little disheartened. “So… what exactly do you think about? How do you make it work?”

You watch Steve’s adam’s apple bob while he swallows. “I guess I usually think of it doggystyle, but sometimes I think of it missionary. And I imagine I’m fucking something soft and wet. Gripping someone’s skin.” His hips start to move now, gentle and slow. His eyes focus in on your own movements. “And I think about what I would say.”

“Do you say it out loud?”

“I hope not,” he says, but his tone isn’t entirely lighthearted. His mouth is agape, pupils blown, staring where you meet the pillow. “But I think about it. Like, I usually tell ‘em how beautiful they are ‘n how good they feel.”

You grind down a little harshly. “You like praise?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “I like being praised, too.”

“Like what?” you ask, voice growing softer. There’s a familiar build up in your lower stomach starting to form. “Do you like being called good boy or -?”

Steve moans, lightly, his hips grinding harsher into his pillow. “Jesus, you can’t just say it -“

“Why does it matter if I say it?” you rush out. “Do you like it when I call you that?”

And now, it seems, like formality is gone. The line between friendship and something else has been erased.

“Yes,” he moans, fucking his hips into the pillow rough and quick. “I think about it sometimes.”

Your face is alight. “Yeah? What else?”

“Fucking you,” he answers. His smooth voice cracks. “How good you’d feel and sound.”

“You’re so fucked up,” you scold, getting off on it. “Do you usually have pants on?”

“N-no-“

“Take them off.”

“Maybe after you answer my question.”

You swallow harshly, stomach twisting tightly. “I think about how m-much your cock would stretch me out.”

He grins wide. “That wasn’t my question.”

“What - what was it, then?”

“How do you get off?” One of his thumbs tucks into the waistband of his sweats. A wet patch forms on the front of them.

“Oh,” you say dumbly.

“Although I think I like this question more.” His thumb pulls down his sweatpants just slightly. You can see his happy trail, how his tan skin turns a little paler behind them. Your mouth waters. It’s only a quick glance, though, because he lets his waistband snap back into place with a smug grin. “Tell me more and I’ll get myself out.”

“Want you to eat me out.” If you were sober you’d be shocked at how easily you let that information go.

“That’s good,” he nods, panting a little. He stops his hips for just a moment to pull his pants down and off. “Get closer.”

You and your - his - pillow slide in so that you’re facing him, noses nearly touching, the edges of your pillows meeting in the middle. “You can’t touch me,” you say, “we’re - we’ll regret that.”

“I know. Just wanna be closer t’you, ‘s all.”

You’d do anything to kiss him right now. You have no brain telling you to not. Only instinct - that this will fuck things up. That you’ll regret it in the morning. And you like Steve way too much to sacrifice that. Instead, your nose presses against his, and you rub them together.

“You’re doin’ so good,” he groans. “Feeling close?”

“Yeah,” you whimper. A particularly well placed thrust makes you keen and you instinctively reach out for Steve to hold you steady. Your nails dig into his biceps but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“There you go,” he praises, “Keep doin’ it like that, baby, gonna cream on my fuckin’ pillow in no time.”

“I wanna kiss you,” you blurt out, overwhelmed by it, your previous inclination fleeing.

Steve leans forward and catches your lips in his, but he keeps his hands strictly to himself. He’s a hell of a kisser, adding teeth only where necessary and using little licks to get you closer to your orgasm. You moan and bite down on his bottom lip and tug it. “Mmm, fuck, Steve….”

“I know, I know,” he shushes, panting, starting to sweat at his hairline. “‘s okay, it feels good, huh?”

Now your eyes wander down to his cock. You’ve never seen it before and at this moment you don’t know why he was hiding it from you. Or how he hid it from you. He’s giant, sure to split you or your mouth open. But so pretty, too. A little bead of clear precum disappears into the cotton of his pillowcase.

“You like it?” he grunts.

You look back up, noses bumping, and nod. “Your cock’s so pretty, Steve.”

He moans and throws his head back slowly, and you take the opportunity to lean forward and kiss his neck. He groans now, his hands gripping his pillow lest he reach out and embrace you.

“So fat and big,” you mumble, “you’d make me gape.”

And then, for reasons unknown, you look down and spit on his cock. Steve gasps, a thousand emotions flicking across his handsome, flushed face at once before he reaches out and pulls you in. He kisses you fiercely, hungrily. “I’m gonna fucking cum,” he moans messily against your lips.

“M-me too,” you whisper, reaching up to grip his hair and tug. His eyes roll back. “Come on, wanna see what it looks like when you cum thinkin’ ‘bout me.”

Steve’s so pretty. Truly. His neck and body stiffen and his eyes clench shut. He lets out a few high pitched gasps and moans before he cums. You’re caught between looking at his face and his cock, his cum shooting onto the pillow below him and onto yours. The sight makes you cum, gripping onto him and kissing him messily as you do.

“There y’go,” he mumbles, holding you. “Told you it’d feel good.”

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #august23

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