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honeyedmiller · 4 months

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An Ode to Forever | Joel Miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni.

warnings: mostly pwp, sex in a bathtub with lots of feelings, fluff, tenderness, they’re both so sickeningly in love, smut (vaginal fingering, unprotected piv, joel is handsy af, some butt stuff [lol]), light alcohol consumption, sort of erotic food consumption(not really tho???), use of daddy twice in this (idk what came over me), joel doesn’t have kids in this, no use of y/n.

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: after an arduous day, joel draws a bath to help you both relax.

an ode to how much you love joel miller, and he, you.

a/n: this is a lil valentine’s day one shot i wanted to put out. slowly getting my writing juju back. this is also a follower milestone celebration. thank you to everyone who supports my work. love you all <3

divider by @saradika-graphics

It’d been a rough day.

A day where bones ached, minds were exhausted and all that was yearned for was to be home with each other.

You’d texted Joel that you were stopping off at the store to get some wine because hell, you needed to relax. He instantly texted you back to be safe and that he loves you.

He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

A true love like this is something you’d never in a million years think you’d ever have to yourself. Someone who cares so much. Someone you can cherish. A love that was all your own. You were so wrapped up in the bliss of Joel Miller, and he, you.

It was the kind of love that was terrifying and beautiful and gut wrenching and so fucking rare. A love that made you feel like you were floating in the clouds, euphoria pumping through your veins every time you looked at him. The kind of love that was a forever thing. Something you never, ever thought you’d have.

He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

The lights were off when you got home. You call out his name, hanging your keys on your designated hook before toeing off your pumps.

“Up here.” He calls back, voice cascading down the stairs. You make your way up and into the bedroom, setting your work bag down before you look around in confusion.

“Joel?” You call out, and his broad frame emerges from the bathroom.

“Hey baby.” He says. You smile softly at the sight of him, body visibly relaxing in his presence. Joel notices and the corner of his mouth twitches upward into a smile.

“Hi.” Your voice is as soft as your expression, allowing him to envelope the whole of your being into his strong, warm arms. He kisses your temple before gently taking the pinot grigio out of your hands, humming at your wine choice.

“Take your work clothes off and meet me in the bathroom.” He gives your forehead a kiss before disappearing again. You cock your eyebrow in confusion, but oblige to his request anyhow. You strip off your clothes, leaving your body clad in just your bra and underwear. The plush carpet beneath your bare feet feels heavenly after a day of wearing those pumps for work.

The cold tile of the bathroom sends a chill up your spine, but you ignore the sensation when you take in all that’s in front of you—a bubble bath with rose petals scattered atop, candles lit on the side of the tub, and a small tray of chocolate covered strawberries waiting to be devoured. Wine glasses filled with two cubes of ice each sit perfectly next to the strawberries, along with the pinot grigio.

You feel the sting of tears immediately. Your eyes move over to Joel, who’s standing with his hands behind his back and a boyish grin adorning his handsome face.

“What—what’s this?” Your voice is meek, eyes glossy and bottom lip slightly trembling.

“I know we won’t get that much time to ourselves on Valentine’s Day, so I thought we’d celebrate a little early. Y‘know, a nice way to relax after a tough day.”

“Joel, honey, this is perfect.”

“Yeah? You like it?”

You turn to face him fully. “I love it. And I love you.” You close the distance between the both of you, pulling him in for a tender kiss. He hums against your lips, enveloping your body into his arms. He slides his hands down to your ass, giving it a playful tap.

He unravels his arms from you before taking a small step back, shucking off his shirt and his pants. He looks at you as you watch him, desire for him pooling your eyes. A glint of fascination crosses his gaze as he studies you studying him.

“One more thing.” Joel says before stepping out of the bathroom. A minute later, soft tunes of Frank Sinatra wafted throughout the bedroom and into the bathroom. He comes back in with a smile on his face as he grabs your hand and twirls you before kissing you. You couldn’t help but smile against him.

He pulls down his underwear and climbs into the tub, groaning at the warm water against his achy bones.

“C’mere, sweet girl.” He nudges his head, holding his hand out to you. You smile and remove your bra and underwear, climbing into the tub with him. The warm water eased the tension that was left in your body, rolling off your shoulders and dissipating into the aroma of scented bubbles. Lavender, you think.

Joel pulls you back against his body, warm and inviting as you lean on him and close your eyes. You sit like that for a minute—still, calm, and silent. It’s what you both needed. Days like this could be more than overstimulating, and Joel knew that. You both basked in the fact that you could sit in silence in each other’s presence and be perfectly content.

You felt movement behind you, only to see Joel reaching for the wine bottle. He opens it with ease and pours the wine into the two glasses, clinking his with yours in a soft ‘cheers.’

Joel set his glass down on the edge of the tub, hands landing on your shoulders. Water sloshed gingerly with his movements. He started to dig his thumbs into the tense muscle. You couldn’t help but groan, head lolling to the side slowly.

“Feel good?” Joel chuckles close to your ear, goosebumps raising at the low vibrato of his voice.

“Mhm,” You manage.

Joel leans his mouth down to the base of your neck, leaving tender kisses in his wake. Your nails trace patterns on his thick thighs, the slow drag pulling at the need for you within him.

Your touch, your smile, your voice, your laugh, you. You drove him absolutely crazy. This man loved you more than life itself. If he could give you the whole world, he would—but for once in his life he knew he was enough.

“I love you, darlin’.” Joel’s voice is nearly a whisper. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing your soft flesh repeatedly.

You crane your neck to face him and his hands drop to your arms.

“I love you more, cowboy.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Not possible.”

“Mm.” You muse, leaning in to kiss him. Those same rumbling butterflies stir in your stomach, heart strings pulling at the softness of his lips and how perfect they feel slotted with yours.

His tongue easily made its way into your mouth as you slid a hand into his slightly graying curls. You moaned into him, your other free hand gripping his thigh tighter as the neediness ignites within your body.

See, that was the thing. Joel had you wrapped around his fingers. He knew exactly what made you tick.

His hands slowly slide to your breasts, kneading them with such care before pinching both of your nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. You gasp into the kiss at the sensation as it travels down like hot liquid to your core, already pulsing with aching need.

Joel’s small chuckle separates the kiss, and you lean your forehead against his cheek as he continues to toy with your pillowy flesh. Your breathing begins to stagger, mind clouded with the carnal desire for the man who’s stolen your heart.

“Joel,” You’re breathless, legs mindlessly rubbing together for any friction you can get. “Please.”

“Please what, baby?” His chest rumbles with the low vibrato of his voice, goosebumps erupting on your skin once more.

“Fuck. Touch me. Please, Joel.”

“Fuckin’ love when my girl uses her manners. How do you want daddy to touch you?” His voice is a low growl, one hand easily gliding down the curves of your body before his fingertips brush over your mound. You can’t help the soft whimper that escapes you as he easily spreads your legs with his hand, running his middle finger down your slit. “Like this?”

You suck in a breath behind clenched teeth, head dropping back onto his shoulder as he starts to slowly drag his fingers over your slick sex. Even underwater, Joel could feel how aroused you are.

“Answer me, sweet girl. Tell me.”

“Y-yes. God, yes–please—fuck me with your fingers.”

You’ve come to learn how to be more vocal with Joel, always shying away from telling him what you wanted when it came to your pleasure at first. He eventually coaxed it out of you, telling you that there’s no reason to be shy around him. He’d take care of you all the same.

You knew that, but you were still grateful for the man being patient with you when words would get lodged into your throat, seemingly unwilling to be vocalized. It got easier over time, and the confidence you radiated when you and Joel initiated anything intimate was a show he’d always want a front seat to.

You moaned as he easily slipped a finger into you, disappearing down to the knuckle. It was a welcome stretch, his fingers always reaching places yours never could. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

“Another one, please.” You sigh, rutting your hips down to grind onto his hand. He easily complies, this time a little bit more of a tight fit. You moan at the sensation, and Joel has a crooked grin on his face as he starts to languidly pump his fingers in and out of you. He was teasing you, you think, because he wanted to hear you beg him to go faster. And, truthfully, you weren’t above doing so.

“Such pretty sounds you make for me, baby,” He starts to pick up his pace, and you subconsciously bite your lip to quiet yourself down. “Uh uh, don’t go all shy on me now, darlin’. Wanna hear you. Wanna hear how I make you feel.”

“You know—shit—you know how you make me feel, Joel,” You reason with him, “You drive me fucking crazy.”

“Good.”

That was all he said before he picked up the pace of his fingers, curling them to press against the spongy spot in you that had your eyes rolling back and your toes curling. He swiped his thumb over your clit, finding a steady rhythm with his fingers.

One of your hands had his thigh in a vice grip, likely to leave scratch marks on his tan skin while the other held onto the edge of the tub. That same liquid heat traveled throughout the course of your body, pooling at the bottom of your spine. Waiting. Wanting. Begging to be released. You grind your hips down to match his pace, just needed a bit more of a push.

The whimpers and moans that eluded you only added to Joel’s own arousal, the occasional grunt from him reverberating off of the bathroom walls. His cock was solid against your back, and you couldn’t help but think how much self control this man had.

“Can feel your pretty pussy clenchin’ my fingers, sweetheart. You gonna come on them? Hm?” His lips are at your ear now, poking his tongue out to lick your earlobe before nibbling on it.

“Yes—oh, fuckfuckfuck. Right there, Joel, please don’t stop. Pleasepleaseplease—” You’re a begging, whimpering mess before you come undone, whole body shuddering as your orgasm washes over you so intensely.

“There you go. That’s it. My girl always does so well, hm? So fuckin’ well.” Joel praises you, slowly sliding his fingers out of you before running them over your slit once more, featherlight and meticulous. You shudder at the sensation, a choked moan escaping the hollows of your throat.

“What do you say?” Joel teases, riling you up.

“Thank you, daddy.” You laugh softly, giving his thigh a gentle squeeze.

You sit up and turn yourself around, careful not to slosh any water outside of the tub. Joel has an amused look on his face and you huff a laugh through your nose before kissing him. It was passionate, like something you’d see in those romance movies on the big screen.

It’s a silent promise, something that can’t be put into words. It surges through your veins and exists in you all the time, heightened by the very man that made you feel these things again.

You pull apart from him, rubbing your nose against his before you lean back to take in his handsome features. His dark brown eyes gleamed with budding love.

Your gaze shifts to the untouched strawberries, and you pluck one off of the plate before taking a bite. It’s sweet; the mixture of chocolate and the fruit dancing on your taste buds. You hold the rest of the strawberry to Joel’s lips, and he grins before taking a bigger bite. You place the calyx back on the tray, gaze drifting to Joel again.

You grin when you see some chocolate on his bottom lip.

“You got a little…” Your words die in your throat as you lean forward, licking his bottom lip before kissing him again. You move to straddle his lap, hips flexing to fit around the broadness of him.

“Be mine forever.” He whispers against you.

“I’m already yours, Joel. You’ve always had me.”

You trail a hand down his chest, toying with his hair before sliding your palm down his torso as your nails slightly scrape his flesh. You plant soft kisses all along his collarbone, tongue poking out to lick his already wet skin.

Your wandering hand brushes through the tuft, wiry hair that sat atop his aching cock. You hum against him and wrap your hand around his length. He pulses in your hand, heavy and waiting to be relieved. You begin to slide your hand up and down his silky flesh, nipping at his collarbone as you did so.

Joel sucks in a breath behind clenched teeth, eyes closing in pure bliss as he tries to refrain from bucking up into your hand.

“Such a pretty cock. Love it so much.” You muse, and Joel groans at your words. He’ll never get used to you worshiping him and his body the way you do, he thinks.

But, he loves it all the same. It makes his heart fucking flutter, and even though he’ll probably never openly admit it, he loves it. It makes him feel worthy. Wanted. Loved.

“It’d look even prettier buried in that perfect pussy.” He says, and your movements falter for a split second. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his filthy mouth, but it was something you couldn’t get enough of.

You look down at him with hooded eyes and a satiated grin before lifting your hips up to hover over him, swiping his tip over your folds before sinking down on him. You’re slow with your movements, wanting to feel every ridge and vein his pretty, pretty cock has.

You both moan in harmony as you reach the hilt.

“So-fuckin’-perfect.” Joel grits, head lolling back as he takes in the sensation of your warmth wrapped around him so perfectly, like you were specifically made to be there. And you are, you think.

Your hands rest on his shoulders as you start gliding up and down on him, the stretch so welcoming every time you fully sink back down. Joel’s hands settle onto your ass to guide you into a steady pace. He wraps his lips around one of your nipples, giving it a soft bite, and you gasp at the sensation. Joel could feel you clenching around him with every pass of his tongue on your sensitive bud.

One of your hands tangles itself into his curls once more, giving them a little tug. His eyes pop open and he lets go of your nipple with a small ‘pop’, gaze never wavering from yours. You toss him a saccharine smile before kissing the tip of his nose.

“So handsome.” You whisper, kissing every high point of his face before resting your forehead against his once more.

“Yeah?” He asks, fingers grazing down on your ass slotting themselves between the crevice of both cheeks.

“Mhm.” You bite your lip, knowing what was coming. It was something new that you tried around a month ago and really liked, so Joel would implement the action whenever he could.

The tip of his middle finger circled around the tight ring of your asshole, a wicked grin on his lips as your hips stuttered.

“Gotta fill you all the way up, darlin’.” He chuckles as he pushes his middle finger into your tight hole.

Your eyes clamp shut tight, feeling so full of the man you love.

“Fuck, god, Joel– feels s’good.” Your words are slurring together and you’re trying your damnedest to keep the pace of your hips steady, maybe even riding him a little faster if that means his finger in your ass will pump faster, too.

“I know, baby. Doin’ so well. So good for me, hm? Takin’ what I give ya, so full n’ all.” He cooes, nosing at your jaw as your mouth falls slack and eyebrows thread together.

The pleasure coursing through your body is devastatingly euphoric, the sensation of him everywhere driving you crazy in all the right ways.

You know it wouldn’t be long before you fell apart at the seams for him once more.

That deep, throaty growl he does while his eyes are shut in concentration, and the pulsing feeling of his cock is a dead giveaway that he’s going to fall apart for you, too.

“‘M close, Joel.” You’re clawing at his back now, his finger curling inside you as you bury your face into his neck.

Your hips burn from straddling his wide frame, desperate for a break, but you won’t stop. Not until You’re falling apart for him and he, you.

“I know, sweet girl. Can feel ya. Give it t’me, c’mon.” He groans, fucking up into you. His jaw ticks as his teeth clench, feeling you pulsing around him as you cry out his name in pure bliss. Another orgasm crashes through you, eyes rolling back as your body goes limp on his.

It only takes him a few more thrusts before he’s coming, filling you with everything he has. He moans with every stutter of his hips as his chest heaves up and down, body following suit with yours and going completely limp. He removes his finger from you slowly before you lift yourself off of him, already missing the feeling of being so full.

You stay wrapped up in eachother for a few minutes, giving yourselves the chance to catch your breaths. You kiss his chest repeatedly, placing your hand over his rapidly beating heart.

“I love you. So fucking much, Miller.” You laugh softly, tracing patterns on his chest as your head presses against the solidity of it.

The feeling of his beating heart surges life into you. Knowing that you get to exist at the same time as this gorgeous, loving man is a feeling you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. There really are no words for it, you think. At least not strong enough to describe the feeling.

“I love you too, darlin’. Forever.”

And then you think to yourself, you’d do life over and over again if it meant you got to meet Joel in every single one of them.

i’m such a fucking sap dude. lmfaooo anyway, hope y’all enjoyed <3

tags: @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @endlessthxxghts ; @punkshort ; @joelsgreys ; @pamasaur ; @cool-iguana ; @joeloverture

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you

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tiredfox64 · 1 month

Note

I was thinking how would Bihan react if he was caught staring at the reader a little to long and gets teased by it from the other guys? Imagine how flustered he would be 😁

I Spy

Prior notes: I just thought about Bi-Han looking at me and idk it’s giving alternative looking at me in the corner of my room.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Gn reader

Warnings ‼️: There’s a spider in my bathroom pls kill it.

You certainly capture the eyes of men. Many different men actually. All kinds of men. The kind, the mean, the strong, the cocky, the calm, and many more. But one man out of the bunch was looking at you for a long time.

Bi-Han thought this visit to the Wu Shi academy would be quick. A quick conversation with Liu Kang that will allow him to be in and out. Of course Liu Kang was nowhere to be seen at first. The only notable person he could see was you. You were in the cooling shade as the wind blew the leaves of the trees which casted pretty shadows all over you.

In that instance he was enchanted by your presence. Your beauty captivated him. It was as if he was looking at a majestic deer calmly move through a mystical forest.

All you were doing was occasionally raking the sand in the zen garden. You were very focused on making the circles clean and precise so you never even knew Bi-Han was looking at you.

There was a perplexed look in his eyes. He was almost observing you. He can’t figure out why he is so drawn in by you. You are doing a menial task. Yet the nature around you was presenting your natural beauty to him with the way the shadows and sunlight danced on your body and the wind glided over your hair.

Bi-Han was so lost in this moment that he forgot that there were others around. He was stuck in a world where it was only you and him. That was until he heard someone speak near his ear.

“What are we looking at?” Asked Johnny

Bi-Han was caught off guard and threw a punch at Johnny’s direction while he luckily avoided this time. He’s not making that mistake twice.

Bi-Han saw that the whole group was near him. Kenshi, Johnny, Kung Lao, and Raiden were staring at him like he was crazy for throwing a punch.

“Nothing. What do you want? Where is Liu Kang?” Bi-Han tried to switch the top immediately but these boys won’t allow him that freedom.

“So you’re not going to acknowledge the fact that you were standing there for a good five minutes.” Kenshi spoke with his usual attitude.

Was Bi-Han really standing there and staring for that long? No, Kenshi has to be messing with him.

“We came over about three minutes in because you would not move. We were even whispering among ourselves yet you didn’t react.” Raiden added on.

Okay so he was just standing there like an idiot. He thought he was there for only a minute how did you manage to make him stay in once place and forget his purpose of being there.

“Well boys, I think I know what’s up with Mr. Grumpypants. He’s crushing hard on our special gardener over there.” Johnny wrapped his arm around Bi-Han which he promptly slapped away.

Like the immature men that Johnny and Kung Lao could be they started letting out a ‘ooo’ like middle school boys would do when they find out their friend has a crush. Bi-Han was shushing them with this somewhat panicky expression. Raiden was trying to hold himself back from chuckling at the fact that this cold-blooded warrior was getting flustered while Kenshi seemed confused by that fact. Kuai Liang and Tomas soon heard the commotion and came over.

“What is the matter, Bi-Han? Did you find Liu Kang yet?” Kuai Liang asked.

“He didn’t find Liu Kang but he found himself a new crush.” Kung Lao made a joke which threw Kuai Liang off. What did he mean by that?

“Are you okay? You seem flushed. Are you sick?” Tomas went to place his hand on Bi-Han’s forehead to check his temperature but he moved away.

Incredible! There is some color on his face. The color of embarrassment. Yes, Bi-Han was blushing at the fact that everyone was teasing him and exposing him. This has never happened before to him so he is unsure of how to solve this.

The only thing that came to mind was use his powers to make everyone back off. In an instance, jagged pieces of ice came out from the ground. They aimed at everyone which made them back up from Bi-Han. They were poking the bear they shouldn’t be shocked that he would pull something like this. Cold vapor was coming off his body due to using his powers and from his frustration.

“You incompetent fools have no respect. Keep your mouths shut!” He barked at them.

The group wasn’t looking at him anymore but past him. He was confused at first before he turned around and saw that you were staring at him with a concerned expression on your face. You were unsure what all the hullabaloo was about and you were now wondering if it was about you since they were all staring at you. You looked at Bi-Han and trying to keep the peace you gave him a wave with this somewhat awkward smile on your face.

Bi-Han had no idea what to do now. A low rumble came from his throat as he thought of what to do. He gave you a halfassed wave before quickly walking off. His head was lowered as he walked off. His brothers quickly left as well to catch up to him. You were left looking at who was still there before asking something.

“Do I need to clean up that ice?”

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Liu Kang was looking at Bi-Han strangely. He was wearing his mask for no reason while his brothers didn’t.

He can tell by Bi-Han’s body language that he was upset by something. Not an angry upset but an embarrassed upset. His arms are folded and his head is lowered. Liu Kang looked to Kuai Liang and Tomas for an answer but they didn’t want to say. All they knew was that their eldest brother put his mask on to prevent anyone from seeing that he was blushing.

“I’m guessing something happened before you came to me. You do realize how red the tips of your ears are, right, Bi-Han?” Liu Kang pointed out.

Bi-Han let out a frustrated growl before covering his ears with his hands. The look of shame in his eyes was clear as day to Liu Kang. Still doesn’t answer what happened out there.

Kuai Liang tried his hardest not to laugh while Tomas was gesturing to Liu Kang is he could step out. Liu Kang nodded and Tomas booked it out the room so he could laugh.

“You must cool down, brother. Wouldn’t want your crush to walk in at any moment and see how red you are.” Kuai Liang teased.

“Silence, Kuai Liang!”

After notes: He don’t even have a resting bitch face he got a ‘I’m going to end your bloodline’ face. WHO ARE HIS OPPS BRUH! WHO’S MAKING BLUD THAT MAD! It’s me. I’m his opp. Imma flick his ear now. Adiós!

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wild-lavender-rose · 4 months

Text

Proposal

Pairing: Darry Curtis x fem!reader

Category: One-shot

Summary: Darry asks your abusive father for permission to marry you, a request that does not go over well. But Darry and you are determined to be together, no matter what it takes.

Warning: Verbally abusive father, drunk father, language, canon typical fighting

Prompts: This is for the @rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me Valentine's Day event. I chose the prompts "I love you" and "I could marry you right now". Enjoy!

"Get off of my porch and oughta my sight, you filthy little-"

"Dad?" You walked faster down your street at the sound of your father's slurred cursing, paper bags full of groceries heavy in each arm.

"Look, I'm just trying to do things the right way, she deserves the best,"

"Oh god," you broke into a run. "Dad? Darry?"

"Then why the hell you comin' here askin' for her?"

"I can take care of her a whole lot better than you can,"

You rounded the corner to see your Dad backing Darry out onto the front porch. Your father was drunk again, but then there was seldom a time where he wasn't drunk.

"I'm about to take care of you right now." Your father raised the half empty beer bottle in his fist just as you kicked open the broken metal gate guarding the overgrown lawn to you and your father's dilapidated house.

"Dad, stop!" You dropped the groceries without thinking, running up the creaky porch steps to stand between him and Darry.

"Baby," Darry's tone softened.

"I told you not to bother with askin," you looked over your shoulder at him, noting how he had gotten dressed up for the occasion.

"There is no way in hell that I'll ever let you marry him." Your dad waved his beer bottle at you. "Now get in the house."

"No, Dad." You shook your head even as your insides trembled. "Darry and I have a plan, we've had it for a while. We're getting married."

"You are not! I won't let you!"

"I don't need your permission, Dad, I'm leaving."

"What the," your father spluttered. "If you leave I'll call the police and have him and his brothers arrested."

"For what? Taking care of your daughter?" Darry took a step closer, his chest pressing against your back. "I love her, sir. I love her and I'm gonna take care of her."

# # # # #

"He said what?!" Ponyboy burst out laughing as he flopped on the couch next to Sodapop. "Our Darry?"

"This stays in the family, all right?" Darry reached out for you as you came from the kitchen to the living room where the brothers all sat, tugging you easily into his lap. "Not a word about it to any of the others."

"We wouldn't want anyone else to know he's a softie." You grinned as you settled against him, draping your arms around his shoulders with your legs pulled into his lap.

Darry rolled his eyes but didn't bother to hide his smile. "I could marry you right now." He bumped his nose against yours.

"Can't wait three more days?" You nuzzled right back. "I don't mind sleeping on the couch until then."

"Let Ponyboy take the couch, he don't mind," Sodapop nudged Ponyboy who nodded willingly.

"I love you." Darry said.

You blinked, surprised that he said it in front of his brothers. "I love you too."

"What do you say we go wake up the justice of the peace now and have ourselves a wedding?"

You laughed. You should have known something like this was going to happen. A midnight wedding seemed the perfect start to the crazy life you and Darry were going to make together.

"Of course, babe. I'd love that."

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby. I love you."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Dare."

Fanfic Masterlist

#yippee ki yay valentines #the outsiders fanfiction #outsiders #the outsiders #the outsiders darry #darry curtis #darry x reader #darry x you #darry x y/n #the outsiders Darry curtis #darry #darry curtis x reader #darry curtis x you #Darry curtis x y/n

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thetriumphantpanda · 8 months

Text

i work from nine to five; hey hell, i pay the price | Marcus Pike

Summary | You use the office halloween party as a way to prove you can push yourself out of your comfort zone. You didn't expect that to mean that the apple of your eye, Marcus Pike, would take an interest in you.

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Plus Size F!Reader

Word Count | 4.4K

Warnings | Explicit smut, workplace 'romance', negative talk about bodies, body issues, plus size reader, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, dirty talk, mention of food and alcohol, halloween vibes, costumes, pet names, but nothing else.

Authors Note | I told myself I wasn't going to do halloween writing, and then I had a very vivid image of Marcus Pike bending me over his desk at a work party.... So I did some halloween writing. As a woman who lives life in a bigger body, this one goes out to everyone else who has felt the way reader has felt. These are MY OWN experiences, attitudes I've had given to me, and given to myself, they aren't universal, we all feel differently about ourselves, but if you've ever been made to feel less than because of the way you look, just know I see you and that Marcus Pike would absolutely take you apart regardless of how thick your thighs are. If you liked this, please consider supporting me through my Ko-Fi.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You tug at your skirt a little, trying to pull it down over your thighs. It seemed like a good idea at the time, to choose something skimpy for the office Halloween party. A way to challenge yourself, finally start to work through the years of bullying at school, and the off-hand comments from your almond-mom who had always told you things like, ‘you could stand to lose a few pounds’, or ‘surely a salad would be a better idea?’.

It had been such a relief when you’d gotten this job two years ago, finally earning enough on an FBI salary to move out of your family home and into your own space. A space where you weren’t judged for how many fries you had on your plate, or how the pair of trousers you’d chosen to wear made your belly look. It had been good for you, and ever since, you’d been trying your best to challenge yourself to do things you never thought you’d ever have the confidence to do.

Things like standing in the office, in a pair of fishnet tights, with a skirt so short that if you bent over, Dave from Finance would get a complete eyeful. Looking around though, you couldn’t help feel like it had been a terrible idea. Amy from HR looked absolutely phenomenal in her devil outfit – a red bodycon dress that looked like it had been painted on, showing not a single imperfection on her body – and Jessica, who worked reception, in a Catwoman jumpsuit that hugged her figure perfectly. You don’t think it would ever go away, the comparing yourself to everyone else, even though you knew that Amy and Jessica would totally have their own insecurities about things.

You were trying to make yourself at small as possible, crowding yourself into the corner of the room, hand clutched around a plastic cup full of ‘spooky punch’, that Hannah, the office manager had put together, which comprised of mostly vodka, some orange juice and what looked like a whole bottle of green food coloring, with some eyeball candy floating around in it. She’d put together a Halloween playlist, which was currently blasting The Monster Mash at a decibel you think should be illegal, and everyone had contributed to her spooky buffet, which was just normal food cut into shapes – like your addition of frozen pizza that you’d cut out with a ghost-shaped cookie cutter. You know you should go and mingle. Adam, on your team has already tried twice to get you to join their little group, so you relent, and walk over, giving everyone a warm smile. It’s all going well, until Alison, nods her head in your direction and stats speaking.

“Did you work late?” She asks, to which you shake your head.

“No, why?”

“Oh,” She grimaces, “I just didn’t think you’d dressed up, is all.”

And you know it’s mainly because she’s oblivious to mostly everything, but it smarts. Sure, the orange turtleneck is something you’d worn to work before, as are the black platform heels, but the skirt that ghosts the bottom of your ass and the fishnet tights that are still probably one size too small are not something you usually wear, nor are the fake glasses, with thick black frames, or the fucking magnifying glass you’re clutching. You sigh, make your excuses and walk over to the buffet table, picking up one of the slices of pizza you’d brought. Once you’ve eaten that, you reach for one of the cupcakes at the back of the table. It’s iced like a pumpkin and the cake looks to be chocolate, which is your favourite. You’re peeling off the wrapper and about to take a bite when someone interrupts you.

“They’re delicious.”

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Marcus Pike. Head of Department. Not your boss, but your boss’ boss, and the most beautiful man you think you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d sat in on meetings that he chaired, supposed to be taking notes but instead focused entirely on him and how he commanded the room. The way he talked with his hands, and how much you wish you could have him run those over your thighs. Or the way he would chew on his bottom lip when he was concentrating, wondering whether he’d like it if you did that if he were to ever kiss you.

“Oh.” You exhale softly, suddenly uber aware of the fact he’s probably just watched you eat the ghost-shaped pizza, and now, not a minute later, getting ready to bite into the cupcake, you go to set it down on the table, but he stops you, hand gently holding onto your wrist.

“Please,” He says softly, “I made them, so I need the ego boost.”

You smile a little, finally meeting his eyes, “You just said they were delicious, what do you need my opinion for?”

“I remember the raspberry muffins you made last week,” He smirks a little, “And the apple turnovers the week before those, and everything else you bring in, I need to know what the office star baker thinks about my effort.”

You’re going to refuse, say you’re already full, despite the pizza being the first thing you’d eaten that evening, that you’ll take it home with you and report back on Monday, but his beautiful brown eyes are soft, almost pleading, so you sigh, peel the rest of the wrapper off and take a bite. It’s actually delicious. He’s put some kind of orange flavouring in the icing, and the cake itself is really good.

“You were right,” You smile, “It is delicious.”

He smiles, like he’s won a prize and it makes you feel a bit fuzzy inside, that this man next to you has been affected by your praise.

“Great costume, by the way.” He compliments, and you don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body.

“You mean you don’t think I ran out of time and came in my office clothes?” You tease.

“You’d wear that skirt to the office?” He’s smirking at you, and also offers you a wink, which has your hand dropping to the table, holding yourself up, why on earth was Marcus Pike flirting with you? “It’s good, Velma, right?” He motions to the magnifying glass abandoned on the table.

You chuckle a little, “First prize, got it first time,” You then take a moment to take in his costume, he’s wearing a brown jacket over one of his usual shirts, a brown satchel is draped across his body and he’s got a hat on, but it’s the whip that really gives him away, “Indiana Jones?” You say quietly.

“The one and only.” He smiles, opening his arms a little.

You think it must be the amount of vodka that Hannah put in the punch, but even so, your next question shocks you, “Do I ask where you got the whip from?”

He looks around dramatically, “Just checking Amy from HR is out of earshot,” Then he leans in a little closer, “It’s from my own personal collection.”

You reach your hand out, letting your fingers run over the material where the handle is holstered in his pocket. It feels expensive, although it’s not like you have much experience with them to pass judgement on what’s expensive and what isn’t.

“Feels expensive,” You hum, “Guess that head of department salary has to get spent on something.”

He reaches down and takes your hand in his gently, running soft circles over the skin on the back of your hand, “You really do look lovely tonight,” He speaks softly, “Enjoy the rest of the evening.”

And then as quickly as he was stood in front of you, he’s gone. You let out a breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding in, focusing on the way your chest is heaving and you can feel your pulse in your head. You pick up your plastic cup and down the liquid that’s left in the bottom, wincing at the strength of the vodka, then deciding you need a top up.

You mill about for a little bit longer, but still feel like a bit of a spare part. You’ve shown your face, spoken to everyone you should have, and now there’s a glass of wine and a bubble bath with your name on it back home. You pick up your coat from the back of a random office chair, grab your bag from your own desk, and sneak out as quietly as you can. You’re halfway down the hall, almost to the elevator, when you hear a voice from behind you.

“Running away?”

You turn around, Marcus Pike is leaning against the doorframe to his office. He’s taken the satchel off, and the whip is no longer in his pocket. He’s crossed one ankle over the other, arms crossed over his chest.

“Feeling a little like a spare part,” You shrug, “And there’s a glass of wine calling my name at home.”

He nods in understanding, “You drink whiskey?” He asks.

“If I have to.” You answer back.

“Well, how about you stay and have one with me,” He offers, “Leave that wine for another day.”

You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, because why on earth would Marcus Pike want to have a drink with you? It feels like someone somewhere is having a good old laugh at your expense, but you feel your feet leading you towards him, brushing past him and into his office.

You’ve been in here a handful of times before, mainly to drop of reports and papers, and only once whilst he’s been there. It’s been a very professional relationship up until now, no flirting, nothing inappropriate. You drape your coat over the arm of the small couch he’s got there – you imagine he sleeps on it when he hasn’t got time to go home during crunch time of investigations. Your bag sits on the floor next to it.

He leaves the door open, giving you an out if you want it. He points to the couch, tells you to sit down, which you do, pulling once again at the tiny skirt, trying to cover the way the skin of your thighs bulge through the holes of the fishnet tights, ultimately failing, as Marcus reaches into one of the drawers of his desk, pulling out two crystal tumblers and a bottle of whiskey. He fills them both equally, handing one to you, but he doesn’t sit next to you, he just leans against the edge of his desk.

“I always thought it was a myth,” You muse, “Agents with whiskey in their desks.”

He smiles at you, “It’s in there for big wins,” He explains, “Cracking cases and that kind of stuff.”

You nod your head, taking a small sip of your drink, wincing as it drags down your throat, “What’s tonight’s big win?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and then cringing a little at yourself.

“You looking that sinful.”

You’re taking a sip when he says it, so you end up spluttering quite unattractively at his words. Is he serious? You dab at the corners on your mouth, setting your glass down on the floor, “Sorry,” You mutter, “But are you for real?”

He smirks, “As real as you and I.”

He pushes himself off the desk, puts his drink down on it as he moves. He takes three wide strides until he’s stood in front of you. You look up from where you’re sat, hands folded in your lap. He reaches out, drags the fake glasses from your face, throws them absentmindedly onto the couch next to you. You’re breathing heavily as reaches out with one of his hands. The flat of his palm cupping your jaw, whilst his thumb traces along your bottom lip.

“Do you want me to close the door?” He asks, voice lower than you’ve ever known it.

You have no words, your tongue refusing to work, so you nod instead, because as much as you’re still thinking someone is going to come in and tell you you’re being pranked, you also want to know what he’s going to do next. He’s back to you in moments once he’s closed the door and turned the lock. The light above is harsh, but it’s needed, because the blinds are closed.

He's standing in front of you again, this time both his palms are cupping your cheeks, and he’s leaning down, ever so slowly, until his lips are a hairs breath from yours. God, you want him to push the last few millimeters and kiss you, but he’s stopped. Waiting. And you don’t want to break first. You’ve done it before, gone to kiss someone, and then felt them laugh just before you can, because why would they want to?

“You gonna kiss me, pretty lady?”

“I want you to kiss me first.” You admit on a shaky breath.

You’ve got your eyes closed, so you can’t read his eyes, look for the sense of regret in them, so it’s a shock when you feel his lips on yours. It’s so soft, barely there, before he’s pulling away, still close enough to feel his hot breath over your skin though.

“There,” His thumbs are moving across the skin of your cheeks, “Now you.”

So, you do. You reach your hand around to the back of his neck, pull him into you and really press your lips to his. His bottom lip slots between yours and you suck it gently into your mouth. You smile a little at the sound that comes from his throat, then he’s opening his mouth against yours and you’re following, doing exactly the same, letting his tongue behind your teeth as it melds with your own. His hands are dropping from your face, trailing down your shoulders. He leans forward into you a little, his hands under your arms to tug you up.

You drag your mouth from him to stand up, his hands dropping to your hips to guide you behind his desk. There are nerves bubbling under your skin because you know what he wants as he pressed your ass into the wood. He wants you to sit on it. To be fair to the department, it’s a sturdy looking desk, but the thought of the way it’s going to creak under your weight makes you want to crawl into a hole. Marcus doesn’t push though, just brings his mouth back to yours, letting his hands wander a little, dragging them back up your body to palm your tits through the layers you’re wearing.

“I think you did this on purpose,” He speaks against your mouth, “Like you knew this woman had always driven me wild.”

You don’t mean to, but it makes you laugh, “Don’t tell me Velma from Scooby-Doo was your sexual awakening?”

He laughs back, doesn’t confirm it, but doesn’t deny it either. He’s looking down your body, having pulled back a bit, “Fuck,” He mutters, “Every time I look at you, it gets better.”

“The magic of a slutty Halloween costume.” You shrug.

He nods his head, but speaks again, “It’s not just that though,” He’s speaking softly now, “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, wandering around the office all the time, driving me mad.”

This would normally be the time that you’d try and fight against the compliments being thrown your way. Tell them they must be lying, or joke that they need to get their eyes tested. But somehow, it doesn’t feel like you should do that here. There’s something about Marcus that makes you think he wouldn’t lie, wouldn’t string you along this far just to have a laugh at your expense, so you don’t do it, for the first time in your life.

You reach up to his shirt, undo two of the buttons, “You know,” You hum, “I think exactly the same as you, with your whip or not.”

He breathes out, taking hold of your wrists to stop your movements, “Let me make you feel good?” He asks.

You meet his eyes, feeling heat rise across your face, but you nod anyway, because you’ve come this far, and you can already feel wetness pooling in your panties. He drags his hands down your body, grips your hips and forces you to sit on the edge of the desk, dropping to his knees in front of you. He’s looking you straight in the eyes, as he pushes the material of your skirt to gather at your waist. Your legs open further, and Marcus groans when your movement reveals the see-through black lace of your panties. It hadn’t felt right to dress as a sexy Velma and wear your normal underwear, is how you justify it.

You’re expecting him to tell you to lift up so he can drag your tights off you, but instead, he hooks a finger through the material at your groin and fucking rips them apart. It makes you gasp. You’d chide him for ruining them, but at this point you don’t care. They were cheap, and if it means you’re going to have his mouth on you quicker, then you’re not going to complain.

Marcus leans forwards, you can feel the heat of his breath splaying across the lace material, and then he drags his tongue across the length of your folds over the lace of your panties. Even with the material barrier between your skin and his mouth, you’re tipping your head back in pleasure, letting out a breath as he repeats his movements, dragging his fingers just behind his tongue on his last pass of movements. It’s not enough.

“Please, Marcus.” You beg quietly.

“What do you want, pretty lady?” He asks, looking up at you with angelic eyes, as if he couldn’t possibly think what it is you want from him.

“Your mouth.”

“You already have it.” He points out, proving his point by licking another stripe up your panties.

“Marcus,” You sigh, “Move the… fuck… move the damn material out of the way.”

He lets out a huff of amusement, “See,” He says, doing exactly as you ask, hooking his fingers under the material and moving it to the side, “All you had to do was ask.”

He doesn’t waste any more time now. Letting his tongue dip between your slick folds, dragging the wetness that’s pooled at your entrance up to your clit, where he flicks softly with the tip of his tongue. You feel his thumbs spreading the lips of your cunt, baring you to him so he can really start to work you up. He presses the flat of his tongue to your clit, working it gently as your hand settles into the curls on his head, anchoring him there. He’s doing all the things you love, moving between wide stripes of the flat of his tongue, and quick flicks with the tip, until your hips are grinding against his face and you’re biting down onto your bottom lip to keep quiet.

“You taste so fucking sweet, pretty lady,” He speaks against your skin, surprising you a little as he pushes not one, but two of his fingers into your soaked cunt, “Feel good?”

“Oh God,” You breathe out as he hooks his fingers inside you, pressing against a spot you had no idea even existed inside of you, “Don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.”

He doesn’t, the obedient man that he is. He starts dragging his fingers in and out of you, whilst his lips wrap around your clit, pulling it into his mouth, laving it with attention from his tongue, which sends you over the edge.

Your thighs are clenching around his head as your body convulses. All you want is to cry out, call his name into the room, but even though you can hear the music from the party down here, anyone could be walking past, and it would be just your luck that it would be Amy from HR. His mouth is working you through those aftershocks as your thighs ease the pressure around his head.

He's breathing as heavy as you are when he stands, slotting himself between your open legs. You can feel the hard length of him pressing against your silken center, as he dips his head to kiss you again, your taste intoxicating on his tongue.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, almost desperately, “You gonna let me?”

“Please.” Is all you can get out, as he drags you off the desk, flipping you around so your front is pressed against the wood of the desk.

He’s got his hand on the nape of your neck, pressing you down. You can hear him undoing his belt, dragging the zipper of his jeans down. You shuffle a little, widening your stance as he takes his place behind you. You can feel him dragging his cock through your folds, gathering the slick he’s pulled from you, before he’s plunging into you in one go. It takes everything you have not to scream. He’s big. Stretching you like no-one has before and it feels so fucking good.

Marcus is still gripping the back of your neck as he starts moving, his other hand gripping the plush cheek of your ass, spreading you open even more as he slowly drags himself in and out of you. He’s going slowly, and you think that the way his breath is hitching in his throat means he’s struggling to keep his composure, so you decide to have a little fun.

When he’s pulled almost all the way out of you, you turn your head as much as you can with his hand resting there, looking over your shoulder at him as you wiggle your ass, slowly backing into him, letting your cunt suck him right back into you again.

“Baby, you can’t do that,” He pleads, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass, “Carry on like that and this will be over before it’s begun.”

“Don’t care,” You mutter, “Harder, please.”

He starts pounding into you now, the sound of his skin slapping against yours is obscene. You’re both trying as hard as possible to keep the moans and groans as quiet as possible, and you can’t help but wish he wants more, that he’ll take you home sometime, unwrap you and let you scream for him, but you decide to focus on the here and now.

“Touch yourself.” You hear demanded from behind you, “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

You snake your hand underneath you, pushing the discomfort of how your arm is trapped between your body and the desk, and start tracing quick circles over your clit. You’re already sensitive, hanging on the edge from his mouth, so you press harder, move your wrist faster.

“Feel so fucking good, baby,” Marcus groans behind you, “Close, ain’tcha?” He asks, “Go on baby, let go for me, let me feel you.”

And it’s his voice that does it, that finally tips you over the edge, has your cunt clenching around him, walls fluttering and teeth biting into your bottom lip as your knees give way. Thankfully, Marcus is gripping at your hips, which helps to keep you upright.

“Where, baby?” He asks, voice strained, and you don’t catch what he means, “Quick baby, where do you want me?”

“Anywhere.” You groan out, “I don’t care Marcus, just come for me.”

You think for a moment he might stay inside you, which would be fine, you thank the implant under the skin of your arm, but at the last minute he’s pulling out of you, feeling the hot slick of his cum on the skin of your ass as he lets out a low groan out of his mouth. He’s breathing heavily behind you, pulling his jeans back up. You try and move, to push yourself up, but you’re worried if you move further you might collapse.

“Stay there.” He says gently, leaning over you to pluck a few tissues from the box on his desk, gently wiping away the mess he’s caused, pulling your panties back into place and letting your skirt cover as much of your ass as it can in your position.

“You okay?” He asks softly, helping you to stand, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear.

You nod, because you are, you’ve never been fucked so thoroughly, never been made to come so hard in your life, but there’s an anxiety settling in your stomach. What always happens now is they’ll tell you they had a great time, but don’t think they want to see you again, which is going to be even more embarrassing because you have to work with this man.

It's almost as if he can sense your anxiety, because he’s cupping your cheek again, leaning to give you a soft kiss on the lips, “Would you maybe want to go out sometime?” He asks, “I know we’ve done things out of order, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.”

You smile, because it does make you happy, that the man you’ve fancied for the best part of a year actually wants to take you out, “As long as you promise to take me back to yours after and let me see you naked?”

He blows out air from his mouth, but his eyes are twinkling, “You drive a hard bargain,” He muses, “But you’ve got yourself a deal.”

He’s moving from you now, over to the couch, picking up your coat and your back, motioning you over so he can help you into your jacket, hooking your bag onto your elbow, then moving to gather his own things, “Wait, right now?” You ask, sounding surprised, as he shrugs his jacket on.

“I know a great diner just down the road.” He shrugs, picking up his satchel.

He’s walking back to you, but you put a hand on his chest, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” You ask, watching a confused look fall over his face, you dart your eyes to his desk, where the whip from earlier is lying abandoned, “I’m only coming back to yours if you bring that.”

You watch as a smirk splays across his lips. He snatches the whip from his desk, shoving it into the satchel, “Well, pretty lady, lead the way.”

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #Marcus Pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike fluff #Marcus Pike smut #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #Pedro Pascal #The mentalist #the mentalist fic #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #plus size reader

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ever8ea · 5 months

Text

Pretty Boy ; Luke Castellan x Child of Aphrodite!reader

/ nsfw; heavy makeout, Luke and reader are rivals. Afab reader

5.7k characters, 1.1k words

I know this isn’t my usual content, but ughhh Im so in love with Luke y’all.

The bright blaze of the campfire was really the only thing that brought the whole camp together. All of the cabins sat around it, sharing food and stories.

My sister Silena sat next to me, chatting my ear off about her girlfriend. I pretended to listen, giving the occasional “mhm”, or “omg”. But my attention was trained, seemingly, on the fire. Though really, I was gazing through it, looking at the Hermes table. It was sat perfectly across from the Aphrodite table, as if fateing our rivalry.

Not many at camp would agree that the two cabins as a whole had a rivalry, but almost anyone would agree that Luke and I sure did. From sword fighting, all the way to crafts, it was like a never-ending competition. Some campers had even begun keeping score, something that was heavily discouraged by Chiron.

Today had been no different than usual. Silena and I, the Co-Counselors of cabin 10, had split the cabin in half, and led through the day separately. Silenas half had been focusing on crafting and recreationals, whereas mine had chosen combat, training for capture the flag.

Per usual, Luke was waiting for me, bow and arrow in hand. My confident facade switched on, and I grabbed my own bow and arrows.

See, the thing about luke and I was that we were posers, pretenders. I could see through him, and I knew he could see through me. We both have a facade, a performance. A certain confidence that wasn’t exactly real.

As I approached him, he gave me his signature lopsided smirk. I pulled back my drawstring, and glanced at him.

“Ready for round two, pretty boy?” I muttered, referencing the previous day. He bad crushed me at sword fighting, pining me the the ground.

He snorted, releasing the arrow onto the target. It almost hit the bullseye, centimeters off. I let my arrow loose, hearing the cheers of my cabin mates. My arrow hit the bullseye, beating Luke. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his easy-going smile falter, but come back swiftly.

I turned towards him, grinning smugly. I stuck out my hand for a sportsman-like shake. He grabbed it, pulling me flush against his body. His mouth grazed the shell of my ear, and bit my lobe lightly. “What are you doing,” I muttered, but I didn’t flinch away when he nibbled again. “Call me pretty boy again, it makes me hard,” he muttered, turning away. He glanced back at me, seeing my slack-jawed gaze. Luke winked, smirking lightly. He sauntered off, his confident display shining.

From an outsider looking in, it was playful. It was competitive. But for me, the already suffocating sexual tension just got amplified tenfold.

The day passed normally, with my siblings unaware of my dirty encounter. So when I made eye contact with that beautiful boy through the campfire, I just couldn’t refrain. I stood up from the table, giving Silena a weak excuse. I glanced over at Luke again, but he was already waiting by his cabin. Silena followed my gaze, and cocked an eyebrow at me. “Tell me later,” she giggled, Turing away from me.

I walked over to the Hermes cabin, trying to seem inconspicuous. Ducking in through the doorway, l was met with Luke’s smug face. “Hey love,” he greeted, leaning against one of the buck beds. “We have the cabin all to ourselves,” I walked slowly over to him, and for the first time, I felt unsure.

“I like you luke. I don’t want to be just a one night stand.” I stated, avoiding his eyes. Luke just grabbed my hand, and pulled me around so my back was against the wall.

“Look at me.” He asserted, grabbing my chin in his hands, tilting it up. I gazed into his eyes, smiling softly. “I want you. Beyond tonight. I want you to be my girl.” I didn’t answer, instead pressing my lips softly against his. He kissed me back, his mouth doing wonders against my own. I melted into the feeling, from the way his hand was rubbing circles in the small of my back, to the way his plush lips felt against mine.

He pulled back, taking a breath. “Fuck, love,” Luke huffed, closing the distance again. Somehow, he pulled our bodies even closer together, pushing a knee between my thighs and against my heat.

Placing a hand on his cheek, I deepened the kiss, he, inturn, carded his fingers through my hair, tugging lightly. I gasped, briefly opening my mouth. Luke took the opportunity, slipping his tongue through my lips. I almost let a moan slip, the feeling of his warm, wet tongue exploring my mouth was nearly pornographic.

Instead, I gave it a harsh suck, causing us to clash teeth. I heard him sharply inhale, reminding me to breathe. I was floating on cloud nine, the feeling of his plump lips on mine and his thigh adding just enough pressure on my core got me off.

Suddenly, he shifted, his knee sliding against me. Our lips disconnected and he gazed into my eyes, panting.

“Shitt, I can feel your wetness through my pants.” Luke groaned, palming himself through his shorts. I blushed profusely. He hadn’t even taken my shorts off, let alone touch me.

“Oh, I’m- ugh, I’m sorry, Luke. You’re just so-” he cut me off, nipping against my neck. “Don’t be. Please, don’t be. Your so fucking hot I don’t even know what to do with myself”

He grabbed my hand, and climbed the ladder to his bunk. He gestured for me to join him. Climbing the latter, he quickly switched positions with me, having my back against the mattress and him hovering over me.

I reached up, running my fingers through his curley hair. His tongue slipped out to wet his lips, and my thighs clenched together.

“Oh, fuck me,” I muttered, shutting my eyes tight. I couldn’t believe that I was in Luke’s bed, practically begging for him.

“Gladly, love,” he chortled, taking off his shirt. I gazed at his rippling muscles, his defined torso not helping my situation.

“Truely not funny, pretty boy,”

/pt 2, anyone?

#pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan smut #cabin 10 #silena beauregard #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #pjo disney+#x reader #aphrodite #just ughhh #smut #rivals to lovers

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sunofpandora · 5 months

Note

Heyyy so I saw your requests post and I’ve been dying to get this one off my chest, so how about a neteyam x omaticaya! warrior! reader where reader’s a fierce warrior (maybe a protege of one of the higher ups). And we all know Neteyam (the mighty warrior lol) is strong and also one of the best their age, but what if Neteyam had such intense feelings for her that all he wants to do is impress her but whenever she comes around he gets all klutzy and flustered? And of course she finds it funny and cute and all that jazz. Just fluff I NEED FLUFF

P.s. The decision to fulfill this request is yours and I won’t be upset if you decide you don’t want to. As long as you’re comfortable, all’s fine by me.

But yeaaa have a good day/night :)

Authors note:

Hi babes!

So I loved this request so much! So I decided to make my very first actual long series! ‘Virago’ is going to be an original work and one of my first long projects. Unfortunately, I will not have a TON of time to do smaller requests in between chapters but i will def try! I’m very excited for this and i wouldn't have even considered this without the request so thank you so, so much.

V I R A G O

Part 1.

The Day the Sky Turned Red.

8.7k words.

𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼/𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼/

‘Y/n was made of fire. Oh, a goddess girl with lips of lightning and a caged Phoenx under her skin. Neteyam is just the ashes and remains of the heavens she crushed under her heel.’

When grief plagues the young warrior, Neteyam gives her a gift. But it is enough to console the flames in her heart?

Neteyam and reader having a sun x moon relationship (hello 'diaphanous’ readers <3)

Warnings: Descriptions of death/ parental death/ reader is a war orphan/ as always, spider, the reader, and Lo’ak are a trio/ Lo’ak and Reader being platonic soulmates?/ Spider and Reader being trauma twins/ Neteyam being lovesic/ Neteyam being nervous and shy around reader/ Neytiri being mother/ Jake being the husband i wish i had/ Tuk being a little sister and looking up to y/n/ Mentions of grace’s school.

Mentions of insecurity, blood, war, guns, reader being mommy/

I think that’s it?

Oh right, Reader fell first but neteyam fell WAY harder.

Extra info:

Y/n is one year younger than neteyam, the first part of this chapter is a flashback to when y/n was 15. Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk are the agesthey are in atwow for the first part of the story. They age up in part 2 (in story)

(Ka’lik is the name of Y/ns father, her mother’s name is Zensira. Both were warriors, but Zensira was the best songstress in the clan. (Ninat go cry to the plant in the corner))

Super important note for the request sender:

Hey gorgeous so ik you asked for fluff and don't worry babes. I hear ya loud and clear. Unfortunately the first part of this chapter will be a bit angsty bc the creative juice were flowing and i got carried away but I swear on my grave the rest is nothing but fluff and lovey dovey shenanigans,

Not proofread

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

To some, surrender was a comfort. A sanctuary of softly spoken submission.

To Y/n? It was a ‘bitch move’

3 years ago.

Day the sky people returned.

Y/n is 15-16

The Na’vi say, every person is born twice.

That we can redeem ourselves in the eyes of the great mother.

That being truly evil doesn't mean just craving the pain of others.

That the life of a single diseased root does not kill the whole tree.

That darkness is deadly, because like the brothers and sisters of bountiful green that dwell in the great mother’s garden, we too need sunlight to grow.

Your mother always told you monsters aren't born from a seed.

They grow when they are deprived of light.

But sometimes, we find solace in even the darkest of places.

That sometimes there's comfort in the dense night. Where others see hell, you build a home.

Sometimes we thrive in darkness because we feel we do not deserve the glory of sunlight.

Is it wrong? Is it terrible of you?

To see light where the great mother’s grace and the violence of the sky demons collide?

Things that were not meant to tear the ground of our great mother’s delicate skin.

Their metals and turning wheels, their combat boots and weapons that scream and spit fire.

But did it belong in your hands?

Your father would say,

“Each person is a thread, weaved within a tapestry that tells a story.”

The thing about stories is that sometimes, they may not always end well, or worse, they end too early. Some people stretch the thread as far as they can, too unsettled to be spread too thin, too soon.

Change is fundamental. Mo’at reminded you “there is no death, only change”

A moral structure that refuses to be severed. You believe that's whats what distincts na’vi from the sky people. Humans are quite flawed creatures. Humans love to dream and dance about stars and rain because their planet refuses to cry for them any longer. Humans dwell with memories that are haunted with light that only exists in the past, lingering behind desire to relive. Humans are afraid of grief, or loss. Of the empty void that lingers behind the shadows. Humans love to selfishly cling to the fantasy they don't live in.

You will never understand why they put themselves through such violent tendencies. To torture themselves. To provide reach towards an unseen daydream just to rip it out of their hands.

Humans remain. Na’vi evolve.

Na’vi find solace within the endless sky. Burning with color, blazing infinite. Na’vi dance on the precipice of the clouds.

Grief came over like the waves grazing the tide, promising reassurance and return.

Violence was never a necessity. A lingering intrusion of a spark that refused to become a flame.

But what lies beyond the sky? Was there truly a shadow behind the sun?

When the embers refused to settle.

You found yourself infatuated with open spaces. Abundance found within indecipherable notions.

Cracks in the mountains. Small tears in the tapestry where light leaked through the canopy of the trees.

Nothingness was never a threat.

Not when the promise of warmth remained.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n met grief when she was only a child.

When she was 15, the RDA returned.

The day the sky turned red was the day the air smelled of sulfur and blood.

Gray and red were never a pretty combination.

The demon ship’s wings stirred the trees and a storm of dust arise,

Screaming, everyone running, the distant screeches of ikran and war cries.

The night your parents went out to gather some herbs, and never returned.

When the pale light of the moon became a blazing, scorching, blanket of blankness that simmered into a forest engulfed in white flames.

You found your mothers songcord on the ground the next morning.

Her body stained with red.

You stood next to Neteyam at your parent’s funeral.

You watched as Mo’ats hands guided the delicate floating Atokirina to rest upon your mothers chest as she murmured a prayer.

People have this inherent conception that the hardest part of grief is change.

The loss of warmth in the safest of places, when the shadows loom rather than live.

In reality, it's this unnamed feeling of a void.

Love is the amplification of a connection. Love distracts. It paralyzes you within its sanctuary of promises.

Grief feels like a shield with a hole blown through the middle. When the connection is shattered, and the sky is no longer protected without the scattered solace of the stars to veil the blank spaces.

Emptiness no longer infatuated you.

The sky without the stars is not a mystery anymore.

Neteyam held your hand. It didn't aid the hollowness within the cup of your palm. Guilt revenues in a realization, that even the great mother’s solace could not soothe this wound. This ache. This pain.

Neytiri’s soft sobs scorch the air with a soreness, the morning mist. Her fingertips, victims of bow strings and arrowhead edges gently brush the flowers placed around your mothers body.

Neytiri was your mother’s sister. Not biologically. Preservations in our blood don’t always remain unsevered when a bond is born.

Your mother sobbed with her when hometree collapsed. Helped unbraid her hair for her night with Jake. Your mother had saved Neytiri’s life.

All those years ago when the RDA invaded Grace's school. When her body trembled at the sight of sylwanins blood that painted the floor and the walls, your mother walling as she desperately tried to drag Neytiri away.

To have such a bond. The heartbeat of one another emplaced in your bones, to sing a goodbye song with cruel unmeasured melodies.

Jake held neytiri, gently rubbing circles onto her back, his own grievances had been paid due to earlier.

Kiri’s tear stained cheeks didnt go unnoticed. She stood close to her father, Tuk’s tiny body squished between them as Kiri sobbed into Jake's shoulder . Kiri had always admired your mother. Chasing her shadow like wisp catching the breeze ever since she was a child. A woman of eywa. A healer. A hunter. Her heartbeat reserved for her home. Her people. Her daughter.

Lo’ak had placed his own tribute to the small spread laid out before the gently laid corpses.

A small carved arrowhead.

Your father took over your mother’s job when she had other jobs to attend to, as being the one who trained a young group of warriors. Lo’ak included. He was patient with Lo’ak. Never discouraged him. A father liek mentorship had bloomed. So when his time came to join the great mother, Lo’ak contributed his own item of remembrance.

Lo’ak gave his arrowhead.

Tuk gave a small flower.

Kiri gave a small bundle of herbs the omaticaya believed was to aid the departing spirit on their journey.

Neytiri added a few carved beads from an anklet she wore. One your mother, Neytiri and Sylwanin had shared over the years, each of the three contributing beads or small trinkets to the piece.

Jake gave some beads as well. From a necklace your mother helped him make Neytiri when he struggled with the stringing of the oddly-shaped beads back when Jake was training for iknimiya, attempting to woo the young blue-skinned warrior he knew as neytiri.

All the omaticaya came to bear their gifts. Neteyam included, who gave you the gift of his warmth.

He cradled your hand in his, he raised it to his chest when the roots covered your parents bodies.

You’ve loved Neteyam for many years now. Watching him grow from a boy to a man.

You grew up next to the sullys. Your heights measured next to theirs as a child. Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri, even little tuk had built a circle around you. You were a part of their lives. They were piece of yours.

You found him in an irregular-shaped void in your heart that only he could fit in. Nights were filled of him. His voice. His eyes. His hands. The curve of his nose and the coves of his lips.

His voice was made of tender summers. His eyes were liquid gold.

You saw him. You truly, truly saw him. Not the evascent shell of the perfect warrior or son made of stone.

You saw him in the bleak day and in the night. When reality rivaled your thoughts of him, when the warmth of his touch seemed ephemeral, the invisible interstellar you swore was not a figment of your fantasies. You settled yourself from afar. Sullied yourself with stains of shame from the secrets you kept from him. The thousands of words you harbored, right next to the stars you swore you would steal for him.

This unrepeatable pattern became tiring, something you yearned to touch but your hands couldnt reach.

To tug on the silver string that dangled from this disguise he wore. This mask. This ruse of your heart.

He was to find the perfect mate. The perfect woman, A women to be the closest to an eywa incarnate. That wasn’t you. That could never be you.

Perfect with no edges. No uncalled for curves and no outward coves.

So you settled once again with the itching of your palms and the aching of your heart.

He was not yours.

Distance became a familiarity because distance was safe.

There was a time where the itching in your palmsd for his. Now, his had felt hollow as it held yours now.

Grief was a funny thing.

You stood here, your skin feels more like a shell. Your mirror feels more like a window.

Staring at yourself with pity.

Such a weak thing she is.

Sobbing.

What once was warmth and abundant is now hollow and overcast by anguish.

You start to resonate with the corpses that once rested in your line of sight before the roots of the tree engulfed them.

Why is it that the sunlight denies you shelter?

Why must your whole become hollow? The ashes of what it once was line a new path.

Is the sun falling? Have the stars collapsed? Will anyone catch them for you?

What is this? This pain? This agony? Why must it overcast your morals? Your rationality of peace? This homage harbors the resdiual of what little warmth is salvaged from this sunset of black.

You feel the merciless fire in your veins. You want revenge. The cage of a Phoenix becomes an eternity of warmth.

Even with neteyam at your side, the stars are falling. And the sunlight feels cold.

⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆⋆｡☁︎｡⋆｡ ☾ ｡⋆⋆

Later that evening, the clan settled after Jake announced that his clan had to relocate to the Hallelujah mountains, where everyone would rebuild a stronghold and dwell with the loyal humans. To avoid any more bloodshed, Where the humans couldn't find you.

You sat in the Sully’s Marui, Neytiri behind you as you sat infront of the fire.

She rebraided your hair. You had mo’at and kiri unbraided for the funeral. Neytiri’s soft humming soothes you a bit, but your hands haven’t ceased their small tremors of shaking.

She gently runs her hands through your locks, placing a few beads on each braid.

Th hut is silent, Neteyam sits in the corner, he hasn’t spoken since after the funeral.

Tuk perches on Jakes lap asleep, Kiri at your side, rubbing your back. Lo’ak sat on the other side of you, resting his head on your shoulder.

“My sweet”

Neytiri’s melodic whisper whisked through the heavy gray.

“We leave in a few days time, at first light for our new home,”

She paused, her thought lingering behind a wall of hesitation, she exchanges a look with Jake, who nods at her, gently taking tuk off his lap for a moment,

“Y/n, hon, with what's occurred..-”

He waved one hand around, flicking his wrist against the air to try and demonstrate some kind of invisible concept.

But you know he was referring to your parents deaths.

“We don’t think you should be alone.” Jake adds. Neteyam nods with his dad’s words, attempting to gain some kind of partaking in this conversation without speaking.

Neytiri rests her hand on your shoulder, making Lo’ak lift his head to peer at you.

“What are you saying?”

It comes out as a breath, the unveiled remnants of the traumatic experience you had endured still fresh on your still-processing mind.

“Ma yawntu…We want you to stay with us when we settle in our new home. To stay in our home. We can take care of you.”

The warmth of the fire feels pale for a moment. I’ts vulnerability. Its shallow. Yet, Its deep, and dark, and you can’t see the bottom. Your’e left unguarded for a moment.

“I’ll be fine on my own-“

You pause when you realize how hoarse your voice sounds. you clear your throat, your gaze meeting Jake’s. His eyes soften a you an you can tell its pity. Something you would have considered affection becomes an insult. A weakness.

“I’ll be okay. I’m not helpless. I can provide for myself.”

Jake sighs and shakes his head, his words calm.

“Y/n. I know you are strong. Hell, you’re one of the strongest i know, kid. But This is not something we’re going to let you carry alone, I made-”

He pauses, taking a breath, his head tilting down a bit and his eyes squeezing shut before he raises his head to continue.

“I made a promise. To the people. To the clan. To keep everyone safe. And to your parents, we would look out for you if anything ever happened.”

The lump in your throat is dry as you swallow.

Neytiri kisses your head gently.

“Ma yawntu, we will look after you..we will guide you on this path.”

She gently guides you to look at her bow in the corner.

“My father. He gave me that bow as he laid dying.”

The air becomes thick, even the moonlight seems to freeze with its slow creeping up the wall.

The only sound is the soft 3-beat melody of Tu’ks soft breathing as she sleeps, but her heavy eyes flutter open now and then as she nuzzles into jakes side.

Neytiri squeezes her hand on your shoulder to keep her voice from breaking, her chest tightening.

“He told me to protect the people.”

The pain in her voice breaks through the cracks in the walls that kept the shadows out, cages that kept the anger in.

“I owed your mother my life. I could not protect Zensira.

I have let the demons take another from me.”

The red in her voice stained the shadows behind ehr words, the sharp syllables in ‘demons’ evident, Kiri closed her eyes and winced at her mothers words, still holding your hand.

She took a breath and gazed at you.

“But yawntu, i will not let them take you. I will protect you. You have always been one of my own at heart. The skyships will not take that from us.

The familiar sting you felt only a few hours ago returned to your eyes along with the ache in your chest.

Jake nodded.

“We can be stronger together, Y/n. Let us look after you.”

The wisp of shallow aches still burn behind your heart but you nod, silently.

Lo’ak smiles in an attempt to lighten the load.

“Just like old times, sis. We used to have sleepovers all the time, now we get to have them every day.”

Neytiri was about to scold Lo’ak for his bluntness until she heard you chuckle,

Tuk’s big eyes blinked open as her tired voice mumbled.

“Now you can play with me more..and braid my hair..”

She mumbes as she smiles to herself. Jake chuckles and ruffles her short braids.

Kiri squeezes your hand and Neteyam’s gaze hasn’t left you since the beginning of the conversation.

You took a walk that night, creeping around the hammocks of the sleeping sully family as you quietly ventured outside the small camp village.

You stand under a tree, the moonlight leaks through the canopy as you start to count the stars. You wondered how the sky and the heavens could still be standing when your whole world had collapsed around you just earlier that day.

When you were small your mother would tell you not to pull on the loose thread of her tapestries she wove. Because the more you pull, the faster it will fall apart.

Thats how you felt. One loose string being mercilessly tugged and then all the colors were fading away, you chased them, you chased them along with the falling stars but no one caught them for you.

Your heart has been thieved. Your light has been stolen.

Sin and soul seem to have a war under your skin, and the soft lllabies of the creatures of your planet seem to have more of a shriek-like quality.

Why did the colors go away?

Did they chase you to the place i cannot follow when you went away?

“Y/n.”

You jump slightly, the chill in the pale air becoming a prick of awarness as you reach for the knife on your hip, turning around quikcly.

Neteyam stands before you, his wooded-honeyed scent fills your nose, you blink as a breath of his name leaves your lips.

“Neteyam-

Oh Neteyam you scared me, you asshole.”

Usually he would have laughed. But not today, not with the shadow that looms.

He gently touches your arm.

“I’m sorry, truly-

What are you doing awake? Are you hurt? Are you in pain? Did something-

Did someone-”

You laugh at him. But its bitter and its thin. Its forced.

“For eywas sake why does everyone think i am the weak link suddenly-

I am fine. Stop looking at me like i am wounded-”

Neteyam cuts you off.

“Y/n, i would never think such a thing about you, ever. You know this. I want you safe, you can’t expect me not to be concerned when you wonder off in the middle of the night, syulang”

The nickname from whe you were children is a warm familiarity at the least.

You huff and lean against the tree bark.

“I just needed air.”

Its small and muttered.

A shaky breath left your lips.

“I’m trying to find ways to endure my own thoughts.”

Neteyams eyes soften as he steps forward, he gently takes a place y beside you, back against the tree as he stands next to you. Your hand brushes his, but your fingers refuse to interlace.

The two of you stared up at the stars for a moment.

“Teyam?

“Yes?”

“Do you think it’s ungrateful to feel as if you have nothing, even when others orrond you with love and promises?”

“I’m not sure I follow…”

“Is it wrong to feel alone when your in the arms of others?”

As it falls into place for neteyam, he gazes at you as if you were a mystery in the moonlight.

He tries to see past your walls, to place himself in your shadow.

He glances at you, then back up at the sky.

“No. It’s not ungrateful. I think we’re all born with some sort of circle around us.”

You pause for a moment, looking over at him.

“A circle?”

He nods.

“A circle. The people we love and care for? the people we would do anything for? The people who make our home, they all belong inside our circle.

My father, my mother, Lo’ak, Tuk, Kiri, they're all a part of my circle.”

He pauses for a moment, his tail swishing behind him.

“And…you are too. You’re apart of my circle, Y/n.”

You gaze at him and he withers under your eyes, averting his eyes and fidgeting with his necklace.

After a moment, he speaks again.

“I can’t imagine loosing people in that circle…things must become so…empty. As if the world seems too small all of the sudden.

So no, it’s not selfish to feel alone when that circle is gone.”

His words spark comfort. The hollowness within your palm seems less heavy.

“Thank you.”

You whisper, and he nods at you.

“You don’t have to be alone, y/n. My family…when they spoke to you tonight about staying with us when we travel to the mountains, it was not because there’s a need to replace what you once had. Y/n, we want you to embrace this new circle-“

“What if I’m not ready to find a new circle?”

The vehement tone you were bearning stunned neteyam for a moment.

“Your mother was right. The sky people will take, and they will kill, and they will hunt, until everything under the sky of pandora is either dead or theirs..”

Your eyes hardened for a moment and Neteyam was still as he took in your words.

You look up at the moon once more; taking a breath.

“I do not wish to fear them anymore, Neteyam.

I want them to be the ones who fear us.”

There was a new found devotion in your heart.

A bitter song of fire and desolation.

Vengeance.

Each note a new mockery of blood and ash. Every chorus an unfamiliar revelry of hunger.

That night, under the fallen stars and the cold moonlight, the inextinguishable plotted purpose was born within you.

Neteyam sighed; his gaze fitting back to the moon.

“And so you will..”

No.

Don’t.

I don’t want to loose you in the fire.

But he didn’t dare speak it aloud.

After a moment, he spoke again.

“I have something for you.”

He felt his heart flutter when your eyes met his.

He reached into the pocket of his loincloth.

“It was a gift I planned on giving during the ceremony.”

You felt twitch of anguish as you recalled the memory.

“You already contributed your gift..you gave that armband my father taught you how to weave.”

He gave you a tender look. The kind whispered in the solace of summer and soft secrets.

“It is for you. Not for your loss.”

His words unclouded a new warmth in your chest.

For a moment, your anger ceased to simmer.

“I made this, for you a long while ago..but I never found the right time to give it to you.

Then..the incident happened and I knew it wasn’t a good time..I was planning on giving it to you on this day..but the plans changed.”

He opened his palm to reveal a small carved wooden spiral, polished and smooth. 3 strings with little charming dangling.

The first charm was 2 purple colored crystal, the second was a wooden bead that wore a Maude color, with a tree carved on it, the last was a stack of small purple beads with marbled colors.

He placed it gently in the palm of your hand, and you cradled it with such delicacy.

“Oh it’s beautiful…”

Your breath truly caught itself in his trap.

“When we were young your mother made you that necklace out of those crystals and small jeweled beads, the one she found in the river?..you were so happy to wear something so colorful..I remember the purple ones were your favorite. You always placed them so that they were in the middle. I’d thought I’d add them as a small bonus.”

He smiled at the memory.

You hugged him, your cheek pressed against his chest, he was stunned for a moment but hugged you back, you looked up at him and your breath caught for a moment, your faces mere inches apart.

You both Depart slightly and avert your eyes.

“Thank you. It’s lovely, Neteyam.”

You said softly, he nodded and smiled at you.

“The spiral suits you. Even now with this great loss you bear. It’s a connection. Even to those who are no longer with us.”

You smiled at him back, and the two of you started to walk back to the village.

How could you not see it? The spiral. A sign of support? Of friendship? Of trust?

No my dear Y/n.

It was how he felt like his soul was steadily orbiting around you. Thoughts of you never ended.

His circle.

His spiral.

You were the center.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓

Years later….(y/n is now 18.)

(her code name is “X” neteyam’s name through comms is canonically ‘pathfinder’)

Jake yipped to Neytiri as she raised her bow and looked over her shoulder.

Her face is adorned with war paint, much like yours. She had painted you for the day. Red, purple, blue, the colors of your ikran worn proudly like a hyde of victory.

“Remember the plan.”

Jake says through his throat comms, his volume fighting the wind. You held your two fingers to the small mic on your neck so you could hear through your earpiece.

“Neytiri and I will strike from above, X, you're my Archer. I want you to hit em’ quick and move out fast. Eagle Eye, pathfinder, you two are spotters. Do not engage in close range, or air combat, understood?”

You heard lo’ak groan through his comm.

“Bro, why does Y/n get to have all the fun!?”

You felt a tinge of pride. Knowing you were Jake’s right hand out in the field. Higher ranked than either of his son’s. A skilled Archer.

“Because I'm older and I have more fun.”

You quipped back, unable to hide the smile in your voice.

“Ya know what'd be fun? If you were to crash straight into one of those mountains and fall in your cocky as-”

“Both of you! No arguing on the comms!”

You refocused as the smell of ash and metal was fast approaching. YOu and the war party arrive on the scene right on time

You flew up above the train tracks and watched as the vehicle crashed into a collision of smoke and ash on the derailed tracks. The air scorched to sting your flesh with an uncomfortable heat.

Neytiri let out a ululating sound to signal to you as she flew down to help Jake. Behind you were 3 smaller aircrafts.

You grabbed your bow from the side saddle, mentally commanding your ikran to dive.

Everyone who witnessed Y/n fight swore the wind under her ikran’s wings were grazed with fire.

She was made of red-ribboned rainstorms in a scarlet blaze of uncharted wind and wildflowers.

For a moment it’s all too real. The encore of your arrows, the satisfying stretch of your bow string, Like the last note before the chorus. You dive down, sliding down the neck of your Ikran ever so slightly as the wind stings your cheeks, the sunlight strong. You draw back, a loud call escaping your throat, and the arrow flies.

Its in a blink of an eye the cockpit window is shattered, the pilot now sporting an arrow of yours through his neck as the metal gray bird ceases it’s flight and collapses in a cloud of smoke and sulfur.

You’d usually be celebrating if two bastards weren't behind you.

You grasp two arrows this time, the long wooden shaft in your clutch as you line them up properly for the next shot.

The pilots pathetically attempt to surf with the wind beneath you, scattering your duo targets into far off spots.

Thats the thing about humans. They tiptoed on the wind as if it was uneven ground. Na’vi warriors like you danced upon airstorms and harsh rains. A swirling spiral of helix grazes your skin as you feel one of their shots fly past you the heat just missing your ikran,

You soothe him before regaining your position, you mentally make a new command to your ikran.

‘Drop’

In a moment, the settled feeling of security that once shaved your bones seems to wither away.

Your ikran free falls, rolling against the wind that whips and wails. Your chest heaves as you ready your shot, the reverberation from your bowstring sings to your fingers as the two arrows fly, hitting both pilots as your irkan regains a flying position instead of a falling one, all adrift in a fleeting shot.

The aircrafts fall together, crashing against the ground.

The ground team jake had arranged comes into view frm the side forest clearing, all watching in awe as if you were the embodiment of phoenix.

They raised their bows and let out warcalls, you pridefully returned, raising your bow above your head and releasing a war call of your own.

Neteyam watched from afar. His ikran synced with Lo’aks as they circled the scene below, na’vi led by Norm gathering all the weapons they could.

But he couldnt let himself focus on the world below when all he could see was the woman made of exquisite inferno and grace was scorching the sky with her blaze.

Neteyam felt the wind brisk through his braids as he looked up, squinting against the sunlight in hopes to catch another glimpse of you.

The light of day made you seem grazed with gold that brushed the cobalt hues.

He watched as you shot down the aircrafts, he watched you shoot two arrows.

To Neteyam, you were made of fire.

Remnants of moonlight and high-tided sea storms. A hellish radiance and a scarlet soul.

Neteyam remembered the night he saw the flame embed itself in your soul. The night he gifted you that carving that was now a charm that rested tied to the long expanse of your bow.

He hated it. How inconsolable he feared you were, how he feared this new alit flame would burn his touch away from you. Useless was an understatement, of how he felt that night, even the stars above refused to guide him down teh right path.

He knew you were angry.

He was angry too.

He wanted to fight just like you did. His hatred for these sky demons simmered beneath his skin. He was a warrior. He wanted to fight next to you and his father. He was a protector of the people.

He had seen what they had taken from his home, from his parents, his family, from you.

At first, he thought it was jealousy.

The way Jake encrusted you to be his main archer. To shoot down sky ships.

Neteyam? He wasn’t anywhere near the fighting. Not anywhere near you.

He knew his father thought him and Lo’ak were “too important” to be fighting.

Jake was trying to salvage the sons made of stone before the heat of war can melt the rock.

Were you better than him?

Stronger than him?

Why did his father trust you more than he trusted his eldest?

As he watches you now, the archer who had her arrowhead aimed at his heart from day 1.

He knows its love. It must be.

It keeps him awake at night. The devoured feeling that gnaws at his heart. You were the center of his sky in all your celestial glory and he wished he would have gifted you the entire universe but instead he gave you that carved spiral.

He loved you because where other struggled to see in the dark you danced with dusk. You were a paradox. Detached, but focused. Because you somehow made the most dissolute and reckless seem graceful. You were real. Imperfect. Unconfined hunger bordered by each beautiful bruise blemish and scar that covered your skin.

You haunted him.

“Bro!”

And funny enough, it seems eywa created little brothers for a different kind of haunting.

Neteyams eyes flickered to where Lo’ak circled around him on his ikran.

The cold colors tattered across the ikrans purple and blue skin, trapping the yellow large speckles of shapes of the banshee’s skin.

Lo’ak’s echoes dwindle in the gust of wind, the war paint he wore proudly on either side of his face, Neteyam had watched Y/n paint Lo’ak after his begging back at high camp.

Something about Lo’aks smile in situations like these always found ways to disquiet Neteyam.

His eyebrows hover above his eyes as his fangs bare through his smile.

“Bro! We have got to get down there!”

Neteyam shakes his head, a warning look traces his features.

“No way! Dad will skin us!”

Lo’ak shakes his head, the wind uplifting his braids as he dives.

“C’mon! Don’t be a wuss!”

The flushed first notes of an uncertain heartbeat ablaze neteyam’s mind as he dives as well.

“Shit! Lo’ak! Get back you dumbass!”

Lo’ak dived blow into the musk of what might as well be no man’s land. The air wailed and whipped around him as he hopped off his Ikran. Yanking his kuru from his banshees and running towards the chaos in question.

He looked over his shoulder to see Neteyam following suit. He laughed, waving his hand through the dust and smoke.

“C‘mom bro!”

“Lo’ak!”

“Lo’ak come back!”

Lo’ak faltered momentarily when he saw Norm directing some navi’s into a brigade to gather all the weapons from the train’s supply cart. Swiftly swerving to stay out of the dream walkers sight, he joined the forming crowd where around where Tarsem had just opened a new cart of guns.

“Here boy- take this weapon! Go!”

Lo’ak let put a silly war cry and puffed up his chest,

Neteyam came to a halt.

“Lo’ak, you don’t even know how to use it.”

Lo’ak waved the gun around like it was weightless, handling it like one of Tuk’s toys.

“Nah bro. Dad taught me!”

Neteyam rolled his eyes, done with Lo’aks bullshit.

“I’m sure he did-

Let’s go-“

He grabbed lo’aks bicep but Lo’ak shrugged him off.

“Or maybe I’ll just be like y/n and shoot down some sky demons!”

Above the clouds, you circled the ensuing hustle below. Watching the brigades, monitoring the ground team. Your bow at the ready in its position on your saddle sheath.

And then you saw them.

“Son of a bitch!”

You hissed quietly, swiftily diving down to where the duo of your headache embodied currently argued about something stupid.

Lo’ak smiled as he saw you, but it faded as he watched the shadow of your Ikran (which was larger than the average Ikran, granted)

Loom over the both as you hopped down, glaring at them.

“What are you two shitheads doing here!?”

The feathers on your raid top gently shook in the breeze, a few of your beads clanking together in your braids as you made your descend.

Neteyam seemed to straighten, but his breath seemed to form a blockade for his own voice.

Maybe it was the way the brightly covered beads and feathers of your top accentuated your skin. Or maybe it was the way the fathers in your braids matched your waist beads Kiri had made you.

Maybe it was the way your loincloth seemed a bit more perfect than usual as it hugged your hips.

Maybe it was the way the red, blue, and purple war paint on your face outlined your eyes like wings and shed down your cheeks like tears, sorrowed in starlight for you had just been warrior of the wind.

I guess we’ll never know.

Lo’ak spoke for him.

“We wanted to help! C’mon, we have the ground team to be spotters! They don’t need us! I’ve been practicing the trick you taught me with the bow, just let us fly with you- we promise we’ll-“

You shot Lo’ak down before the words flooded further, the scarlet hues ablazed and begged for nothing but obedience in your voice.

“Kehe! You will do nothing-! Go back to your post. Both of you. Now!”

You swatted Lo’ak with your bow, hissing at him, Neteyam tried to drag Lo’ak away.

“Bro let’s go!-“

The sound of heavy mechanical whirring instilled the heightening of your awareness in the moment, your ears pining back as you saw the larger ship approach.

“Gun ship inbound!”

Jake shouted, you saw neytiri hiss and take off on her Ikran.

“Shit! Run!” You cursed, shoving Lo’ak and Neteyam in the opposite direction and making a break away from the approaching enemy.

As it would seem time was not in your favor, your Ikran had already been spooked away by the blast, Neteyam grabbed your hand before you could run,

“Come with us, now!

Go-!”

He shoved Lo’ak ahead of him as they ran, Neteyam’s hand clutching yours as you kept pace with the two.

The 3 of you climbed over the derailed debris, Neteyam and you scaling the bright yellow RDA logo train doors,

“Bro come on!” Lo’ak called.

A flash of light invaded your vision, the scorching heat of the blast incircled you.

You feel Neteyam attempt to reach for you, but instead all you feel is a tug on your wrist as your senses start to numb.

Your airborn for a moment, then your body collides with the uneven ground, the rocky surface below.

You groan, your vision blurring. The embers and ash clash against your skin in the harsh sting of the hot air.

You winced in pain as the adrenaline started it’s course of abandonment. The aching sensation swallows your body.

Scarlet etched its way in a jagged scratch on your side. The world seemed to darkn as the scarlet hues slowly faded to black. The sky’s golden and blue game of chance changes its rules as your eyelids become heavy.

Neteyam’s eyes shoot open as his vision readjusts itself clearly.

Lo’ak is above him, shaking him awake. Panic in the half-notes of his jagged breaths.

“Bro!? Bro! C’mon, get up we gotta go!”

Neteyam stands to his feet, groaning, but quickly regaining his senses.

He looked down at his hand to see where something small and beaded made its home in his clutch.

A bracelet?

Your bracelet.

It hit Neteyam like a tidal wave.

“Shit! Y/n-“

Neteyam tried to run past when his body collided with a taller one, Jake stood looming over his son’s, placing one hand on each of their shoulders “Hey! Easy, easy, where’s Y/n?! Are you hurt?!”

Neteyam tried to speak but all it was met with is stuttered breaths and a poor panicked exclamation.

“That way! I meant to grab her arm and I grabbed this instead-

The blast-“

Jake didn’t hesitate as he started running in the direction you were in, Lo’ak seemingly still in shock and Neteyam following his father without missing a beat,

“Stay behind boy! Get your brother out of here!”

“But sir-“

“That’s a direct order!”

Norm, quickly dragged Neteyam and lo’ak away to the sidelines of the forest to make their quick escape.

The sound of a screech flooded your ears, the footseps barely audible over the smoke and wind.

“Y/n! Oh child, Eywa please no.”

You reached for your knife with the last ounce of motor control you could muster, before a hand gently lifted you on your back, the sun’s blinding silver line halo of heat scorched your eyes, you hissed and winced in pain.

The hands were familiar, it calmed you rather quickly.

You knew it was neytiri when the blurry shape of gray purple and green, faintly recognizable as her bone collared-top.

You groaned, the raw rushes of pain encased your vision.

“I’m sorry-”

You mumbled.

“Shh. No apologies, my dear girl. Come, we must go. Quickly.”

The last thing you remember is the gently shrill of her Ikran and her hand around your waist was she settled you in front of her on her ikran. The Scarlet hue no painted the wind.

☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾𖤓✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓

When you awake, its to the sound of herbs grinding soflty in a boil. The reverberations of the grinding tool against the small wooden bowl make your ears twitch.

Your vision settles. Mo’at sits infornt of the small fire in the tsahiks tent, Tuktirey by her side.

Her big eyes blinking at her grandmother’s handy-work, her much smaller tail swishing to the beat of each sound.

You sat up slowly, with a small wince. But the pain was significantly better.

Tuk gasps

“Y/n! You're alive!”

She wraps her arms around your waist, nuzzling her little head into your chest. You smile at the smaller girls, roughly a few of her braids, kissing the top of her head.

“of course I’m alive, yawntu! It would take a million Sky People to take me out.”

You teasingly mocked the position of an archer, holding a pretend bow and arrow made out of thin air as Tuk laughed.

Mo’at gently cleared her throat, making her way to you as she placed a hand on your shoulder.

“ Child, your wounds were deep, but they shall heal quickly with the salve. Kiri shall be back with more herbs soon. But please rest, simply until the bandages are removed.”

You nodded greatfully, squeezing her hand in a gesture of thank you.

She was the closest thing you would have to a grandmother, even before your parents began their journey with Eywa. You never got to meet your actual grandparents. They died in the attack on hometree. The only memory you had of them was through the clans' stories.

You wore a choker that was strung with river pearls and brown leather, a small navy-blue colored stone in the middle. A treasured piece your grandmother once wore.

Tuk snuggled up to you in the hammock, and you gently rubbed her back.

A soft rustling made your ears perk up when Kiri slipped through the tent flap with a basket of herbs.

“Tsmuke, (sister)

You are awake.”

Her expression softened, as if tensed up since the moment you returned unconscious. It probably was.

She handed the herbs to Mo’at and kneeled at your side, gently brushing a few of your braids away from your face.

“How are you feeling? Better? I used yalna bark when grandmother wasn’t looking. Was it Lo’ak again? It’s always Neteyam getting in trouble and you getting hurt when that sxkwang gets bright ideas-“

You gently stopped her mid rant. Holding her hand gently to your chest.

“I am fine, Kiri. A few scratches and bruises has never done much harm.”

She chuckled softly, standing back to her feet to assist Mo’at with the rest of the preparations for other wounded warriors.

As the hours passed, and the sun started to set, Kiri had to drag Tuktirey off to bed and Mo’at left the tent for the night. Leaving you alone to find sleep.

Mo’at had insisted you sleep in the Tsahik’ s tent tonight. Get some extra rest.

You didn’t argue. It was better than sharing a hammock with Lo’ak. The boy snored more than what you were almost certain was normal.

It was an understatement to say you nearly killed someone when you heard the tent flap rustle. You jumped, instinctly reaching for your knife.

It was well after hours.

Everyone should be asleep.

Who was it? Were you followed when you left the train?

Was it a sky demon? An animal?

You slowly felt your heart steady once again when you saw a small pale figure enter your tent, the small glimmer of his mask dances in the firelight. Lo’ak is behind him, looking less hyper than usual. Instead, a subtle tinge of gray flickered past his eyes, but it quickly gilded itself to green and gold once it settled on your form. He released a breath of relief and spider smiled.

“See? I told you she was okay.”

It took you a moment to realize that Lo’ak was worried about you.

You gave him a small smile opening your one arm that wasn’t aching, and he slipped himself under it, sitting next to you in the hammock, resting his head on your shoulder.

Lo’ak was your best friend. But really, he was so much more than that.

He was your family. Your ride-or-die.

Your right hand.

It made you feel a bit guilty, that Lo’ak seemed to prefer you over Neteyam sometimes.

Lo’ak wanted you to be his teacher when it came to his archery training and sparring. Lo’ak wanted it to be you who he went on hunts with.

Yet again, he also only lets you braid his hair because apparently neytiri pulls too hard and Neteyam doesn’t know how to tie them off properly.

Spider was a bit of a different case.

As you grew older, you realized how much you envied your motehrs sense of lightness.

Her entire being seemed to be made of golden hour gardens and softly whispered summers.

She was strong. The strongest woman you knew.

But she was kind.

She wasn’t like Neytiri in the sense that she resented all humans.

Your mother always felt a sense of protectiveness over Spider. A small, pale boy who used his heart instead of brain, chasing shimmyflys and tripping over vines that were larger than him. She welcomed him into her circle. She shielded him from the storms of strange staring and pesky fears.

Your mother always cared for Spider. Helped him re-twist his locs and make him new loincloths and hair beads. Some of your earliest memories were you and spider playing with the small carved toys in your family’s tent, or giggling after dark under the blankets after your father told you both to go to sleep.

She argued when spider had to go back to his foster family, and ended up making bargains with him to stay overnight every few days.

You’re almost positive it’s the only motherly love spider has ever known.

He cried when your mother died.

You think he might have cried more than you did.

Sobbed for days with you, and it brought you closer together.

You smiled as Lo’ak fidgeted with one of the bracelets on your wrist.

When you were about 8, Lo’ak was 7, spider was 9, your mother carved you these special beads for the three of you to use.

You three decided to make bracelets and your father helped you string them together, all collecting charms and gifting them to one another to add.

The two biggest stones were carved river crystal the two boys collected, Lo’ak rolled the beads between his two extra fingers, sporting a bracelet of his own you and spider made him.

“So, I heard you got your ass kicked.”

Spider snickered. Sitting down in front of you.

You whacked him with your tail.

“Fuck off. Those sky demons ate my arrows.”

Spider groaned,

“I’m so pissed. I heard you fell down in a explosion and ate shit-

And now one took a picture for me!”

Lo’ak threw and arm around your shoulder and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah. And her Romeo was panicking because he didn’t save her in time”

You flushed, shoving him away.

Spider laughed, standing up.

“I can only imagine-“

He cleared his throat, before making his voice go an obnoxious pitch higher, twirling his locs around his fingers and batting his eyes, mimcmking what was supposed to be you.

“Oh Neteyam! My big strong warrior man! Come save me!”

You hissed in annoyance, but couldn’t help but bite back laughter at the back of your throat.

Lo’ak stood to his feet, puffing up his chest and taking his braid out of the way he tied them back, letting them hang, deepening his voice and stomping towards spider, dramatically holding him in his arms as spider collapsed with a loud rehearsed sigh.

Lo’aks Neteyam imitation sent you over the edge, you were now cackling and had rolled out of your hammock.

“I’ll save you from the demon ships with my bow and arrow!”

Lo’ak, you, and spider all break into a fit of laughter, rolling around on the ground. Lo’ak steadying himself by burying his face in your shoulder as spider banged his fist on the ground, finally, as the laughter died down, the three of you stared at the top of the tent, out of breath, the only sound being the gentle wheezing endnotes of your breaths.

“Glad you kicked some ass today. Those fucking RDA pilots didn’t stand a chance against you and that bow of yours.”

Spider whispered. Nudging your shoulder gently.

You smiled at him, Lo’ak squished in between you.

The three of you said your goodnight s, and you watched the two missing parts of your circle leave the tent before they could get caught after lights out.

You nestled back into the hammock, staring up at the ceiling.

The aching in your arms hasn’t completely vanished it’s fortification of pain in your shoulder.

You gently rub circles around the small carved spiral you untied from the long shaft of your bow when spider dragged it inside.

You played with the small crystals and the beads, gently humming to yourself.

Your fingers traced along the shape, Neteyams eyes invaded your mind.

It was fascinating, really. How a warrior such as yourself had won today's battle and yet the one thing you truly yearned for was still not within your grasp.

It hurts sometimes, to think about how beautiful he was.

The way his irises encompassed golden hour in all its starlight sessions.

The air was thicker in the mountains like this, up here in high camp. Perhaps that’s why the sweltering residual warmth that rippled across your skin like lillies to a pond every time you thought of him

You wondered if he tasted like the sun. Sweet, possibly bitter. Bleak and addicting, such a delicacy deserved to never touch your lips.

Alas the stars did not align for you.

Not tonight.

You trace the spiral one last time before letting your eyes flutter closed.

Your tail flicked as you heard yet another rustling.

The sound of footsteps, slightly heavier than last time.

You groaned.

“Spider did you forget something again?..”

When no answer was heard you grumbled. Standing to your feet and untying the tent flap, only to be met with two two golden hour orbs that had just plagued your mind.

“”Neteyam?..”

authors note:

I’m finally done! I haven’t slept in two days but I’m finished. I can’t decided whether I like the way this turned out but I LOVE some of the smaller little details. Y/n is such a badass and she’s in her reputation eraaaa. We love to see it 😩👏 this first one was a lil angsty but I PROMISE y’all, this series is NOT angst. I’ve got a ton of stuff planned. I’m thinking maybe a little bit of jealous Neteyam? Some humor? Spider and Lo’ak being the captain of the ship? Mo’at being a sassy Granmda? Maybe some sister bonding with Kiri? AHHH IM SO HYPED. I, about to pass out and I can’t feel my fingers but that’s it for now! Stay tuned for part 2 🏹

-Sol

Jan 2034

“Virago” series, chp. 1.

Taglist:

@plooto

#neteyam x reader #neteyam #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully #jake avatar #kiri sully #avatar fanfiction #lo’ak x reader #neteyam x you #neytiri

288 notes · View notes

endless-ineffabilities · 1 year

Text

your heart's serrated edges are much like mine own (18+)

dark!Aemond Targaryen x dark!fem!reader

synopsis: Prince Aemond Targaryen and his Lady wife may just be the biggest assets of the Greens. Two ruthless, determined and cunning lovers, who are crazy about each other and will stop at nothing to get what they want.

themes/warnings: violence, language, torture, f*cking, choking, it's a slightly dark romance so be warned! - strictly 18+!!!!

recommended listening: angel - massive attack // mad - echos // bottom of the deep blue sea - MISSIO // daydream in blue - I Monster

word count: 2k ▪︎ masterlist

a/n: this delicious little thing had been sitting in my drafts for far too long, so I just had the sudden urge to feed into my Aemond fantasies and finish it! Enjoy.

Aemond twists the knife in further, deeper, causing the spy's eyes to roll back in his skull.

This imbecile, this apparent whisperer, had been caught attempting to lace Queen Alicent's wine with poison. Luckily, you had been there to catch him in the act. You were quick to incapacitate the man with a blow to the head, rendering him unconscious. You never had much patience for the White Worm's lackeys, and this distaste heightened significantly after the atrocities committed by Blood and Cheese.

Aemond found you, sitting prettily in your chambers, a picture of perfect calm. As if you did not have a man gagged and unconscious by the hearth.

"What is this, my darling?" He crooned. "Having a bit of fun?"

"You will find that this is justified, my love. And you will want to take this cunt's head off yourself."

"Is that so?" He questioned, amused at his Lady wife's brazenness.

"Mhmm," you purred, pulling him closer by the lapels of his leather tunic, "I missed you today."

"Council business," His eyes rake over your figure - the only prize that makes everything worth it. "I missed you as well, as always. Come here." He jutted his chin out to you once, beckoning.

His hands wound tightly around your hips, as he kissed you. His tongue found yours, melding against each other. The kiss grew rough, teeth nearly grinding against teeth. He pushed you back onto the table, making you hold onto it with palms outstretched, as he assaulted your neck with peppered bites.

The moment was divine, up until the man regained consciousness, squealing like a wild boar upon taking in his surroundings.

"Fuck's sake," Aemond cursed at the intrusion, still keeping hands on you.

"Well, my love?" You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and dragged a finger along his sharp cheekbone, your query hanging in the air. Will you feed into your darkness with me?

"Hmm," he smirked slightly, lips pursed, "shall we amuse ourselves then, ñuha ābrar?"

My life. It tugged at your very soul when he called you that.

"Let us go play, dear husband."

Which brings us here in this damp cell, poorly lit by a few torches, with Aemond's precious knife buried deep in the thigh of the man who calls himself Bane.

Bane's skin has become so pallid and colourless. Having lost a significant amount of blood, it is only a matter of time before he fully loses consciousness. Or he might die. What difference does it make? Another used-up pawn in this fucked up war.

"Tell us what you know," Aemond growls, his voice dripping with malice, as he crouches in front of the snivelling man, "and we might just let you live." A mere embellishment, you know that Aemond would never let him live either way.

You stand behind Aemond, your left hand stained with Bane's blood. You are responsible for the first incision done on his skin, and that had been many moments ago.

Now, the man is but a husk of what he used to be, but much to your annoyance, he remains defiant, haughtily turning his cheek to you and Aemond when bombarded with questions.

Evidently, he knows more than what he is letting on. He could reveal the identities of the rest of White Worm's spies, the whole lot of them having infiltrated the castle under the guise of regular employment.

You did not know who to trust. Not truly. Except for your husband, and him alone.

"Fuck you." The man spits, blood spilling from his lips. "Fuck all of you. The Blacks are coming for all of you. All of your women and your children. Especially that traitorous cunt of a false King." He should have stopped there, but he makes a grevious error and continues, glaring right at you, "Even you, whore. You think your prince can save you? No. No. You're going to-"

Aemond's fist clashes once again with the remnants of Bane's teeth. Blood splatters on his beautiful, taut face.

The one-eyed prince, your one-eyed prince, with crimson smeared across his enraged face, and his sapphire eye exposed, would be able to strike fear in anyone's heart.

But not yours. The sight of him, unhinged, exhilirates you.

He growls, "You will never speak to my lady again. You will never even so much as glance at her, because I will gouge your eyes out. Then, I will rip you apart, and send the pieces of your mangled corpse to those Blacks whom you are so blindly loyal to."

"It seems that we have no further use for this worm, my love." You crouch beside him, gazing at him in admiration and reaching forward to push a stray strand of silver hair away from his face.

Bane freezes, realizing that he may just be speaking his final words, "I have heard talk about the pair of you... how... how absolutely fucking besotted you are with one another. And now I see why. You both are insane!"

"Oh?" You smile "If loving my Aemond renders me insane then so be it, little worm."

"Hmm," Aemond stands and pulls you with him. He then wastes no time in capturing your lips, snaking his tongue inside, wanting more. Always more of you.

You moan against him, feeling pumped with adrenaline. Reaching down to his breeches, you quickly find out that your dear husband has grown quite hard.

He bites your lip when you squeeze his length, making you groan against his mouth.

"My beautiful, beautiful, wife." He pulls back to look at you, his sapphire eye glinting in the firelight.

"Let me go!!" Bane screams again, unable to stomach what he sees, "Fucking let me go, you cunts!"

Bane continues squirming, his wrists twisting against his metal shackles. Right outside, Ser Criston Cole stands guard, although the need has never arisen before. Aemond and Lady Y/n always knew how to handle themselves. They were skilled in keeping their prey subdued.

Not many knew of the true extent of yours and Aemond's shared madness. The methods you both employ could rival that of Maegor the Cruel.

But the Blacks have forced your hand. At every turn, they have picked and plucked off important people in your lives. Without any shred of clemency.

Sure, it is a war. And it is only fair that you and Aemond would seek to retaliate.

Only you and Aemond could do things so methodical, and so wicked. Aegon does not have the stomach to do all that is necessary, even with him being King.

"Let me go, and I won't tell anyone what happened here." Bane grows desperate. "I... I swear on the Seven!"

Aemond makes a clicking sound of disapproval with his tongue, as if scolding a child. "But as it stands, Bane, we have no reason to trust you."

When Aemond carves Bane's eyes out, he screams his throat bloody, the grating sound echoing mercilessly in the darkness of night.

Until all is quiet, save for the sound of hungry lips devouring each other. Until the final blade has been pushed into Bane's heart, and you and Aemond - two lovers soaked in blood - practically attempt to carve a piece out of each other, with groping hands, biting kisses, his manhood pressed against your covered core.

Tempting, torturing, trembling.

"I need you," he whispers. "I need you now. And forever."

"Then have me."

You blindly find your way through your chambers, only focused on each other. Hurriedly taking off every piece of clothing, every damned hindrance, until skin only meets skin.

Finally, you are both uncovered. You take a few steps back until your ass meets the cold surface of the wooden desk, upon which you sit on the edge haphazardly.

Leaning back, and spreading your legs, every inch of you is bared for Aemond. The lips of your cunt drip with liquid pleasure, aching for only what he can give you.

"Mm." A hundred years could pass of just this, a thousand, forever, and Aemond would never tire of the sight in front of him. His lady, his love, offering herself up to him for the taking.

He takes his time in walking towards you, savouring the sight, as you do him. Your eyes are near pitch-black with desire as you drink him in, the sharp planes of his figure, his endless silver hair, his sapphire eye.

And his long, girthy cock glistening translucent-white at the end. You bite your lip, and whine, "Hurry now, Aemond."

He laughs deeply as he finally reaches you. He licks a stripe on your chest and your collarbones, cleaning off dried streaks of blood. When he kisses you, his tongue tastes of rust. Of the man whose life you just ended.

"Your skin tastes divine," he purrs, as his cock grazes the edges of your folds. He grips your back with one hand, urging you closer, steadying you, and his nails dig into your flesh in their intensity.

"Do not torture me, husband." You plea, for fear that you might explode, and you just might push him down to the floor and ride him until dawn.

He laughs again, almost tauntingly, "Why, dear wife, what is it that you want?" He whispers close to your ear, "Do you wish for me to fuck you? Do you want my cock inside you, my lady?"

You grip his hips and urge him forward until his cock breaches your entrance, only just.

"What the fuck do you think I want?" you growl at your husband. "Fuck me."

"As my lady commands." And with that, and no other word of warning, he enters you to the hilt, the sting of his size only a slight tinge compared to the maddening pleasure.

"Is this what you want?" His voice is deeper now, thick with need. He leans over you as you prop yourself up on your elbows, his pelvis moving relentlessly. His thrusts quickly grew sloppy and unhinged. His palms brace themselves on your back, as he lowers and takes a nipple between his teeth.

"Agh!" You squeal, and he sucks your breast soothingly. "Don't stop."

He buries his face in your neck, breathing you in. He slows the assault of his length inside your increasingly sore pussy. But the thrusts remain deep, his balls slapping wet against your ass each time.

"Can I... shall I...?" He pants, knowing you will understand.

You stare at your lover. Your dark, breathtaking other half. You respond, without a doubt, excitement taking a hold of you. "Yes. Do it, my love."

He seems a tad apprehensive, but equally wanting, so you guide his hand to your neck, gingerly splaying his fingers on your skin.

"Do it," you repeat.

"I love you," he swears, his fingers beginning to tighten, his cock burying deep inside your dripping cunt again and again. "I love you forever."

You feel the familiar pressure on your windpipe. Bearable, with only the mildest hint of discomfort. Aemond would never dare hurt you badly. This serves to spur you on even more, and you grip his forearm.

You tighten your legs around his torso, and use your heels to help propel him forward. Deeper, if that were even possible.

"Harder," you say. "Fuck me, Aemond."

He moans, his lips pulling back from his teeth, eyes glazed over as he looks down upon his love. His hand clenches your neck even tighter, and you welcome it, feeling lightheaded.

"I love you," you gasp with utmost sincerity.

Two deranged lovers, glistening with sweat and cum. Deep maroon patches of dried blood from an hour before, melting on their skin. Writhing, squirming, whimpering against each other as moonlight filters through the sheer forest green curtains.

With strangled cries, they spasm into each other near simultaneously. Prince Aemond Targaryen collapses on top of his wife in bliss. He looks up at her and finds her in the same state.

He rights himself, reaching to the faint impressions of his fingers on her neck. "Are you alright, my love?"

"Am I alright?" She grins, then plants a soft kiss on his lips. "Shall we go again?"

#aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader

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aheathen-conceivably · 4 months

Text

Josephine was sitting at the vanity table that Giorgio had restored for her, tracing her hand along the same wood grain that she had when she arrived over two years before. Only her nails weren’t painted any longer; they were bare and chipped, fingers permanently raw from hours of soaking and scrubbing.

She was staring at them intently, like their presence alone was enough to make her feel like she was a different woman than who she thought she had been her whole life. Out of the corner of his eye Giorgio could see that she was lost in thought, a small downturned frown playing on her lips. He barely had time to register just how unlike herself she seemed before she blurted out, “Do you ever think about having children?”

Gio nearly choked on the cigarette he had just lit. There were certain things he had given up on when he fell in love with her, things that he now told himself were for the best. He looked up at her suspiciously, now wary of the traps he knew she could set. The lost look in her eyes was vacillating with something that looked like what, suspicion? Like she didn’t trust him to answer correctly despite his years of acquiescence on the topic.

But as she addressed him through the warped glass, he got the impression that she wasn't actually speaking to him at all, “It would be stupid, you know that, right? Violette would hate it. She could learn to share, I know. But something tells me she wouldn’t. She would only get worse.”

Then she turned to look him dead in the eyes, and he realized he had been right. She was challenging him, even though he had only recently told her that he didn’t mind her near militant precautions against pregnancy any more now than he had in New Orleans. As she spoke her resolve became more palpable and the uncharacteristic insecurity that had been there moments before was replaced by something he was more familiar with: anger. “And Jesus Christ we can barely feed ourselves as it is. It would be stupid. Absolutely stupid. Why would anyone ever think otherwise? It’s a horrible, horrible idea.”

As she finished speaking she continued to stare straight at him, and he had to look away to escape the intensity of her eyes. It was nothing that he didn’t know; she had told him from day one that she would never have children, not for any love in the world. He had been young enough then to want nothing other than her, and over time his feelings had morphed into hers. It was never a dream he had, and it wasn’t as though he had a name he was proud to pass on. He had come here to hide from it, and it had done nothing but convince him that he would have no more sons to pass the name or the horrors onto.

As he gathered himself to look at her, his eyes cut through the tension that hung in the air like cigarette smoke. Because he had said it all a dozen times before, and that look was all she needed to know that he agreed; not just with her logic, but even to her aversion of having your life taken from you in that way, so that your dreams and your choices were no longer for yourself anymore. They would always have to be made in adherence to someone else, and they could barely do that for each other, much less a child.

He put his lit cigarette in the ashtray the moment she stood to walk nearer. Up close, the challenge in her eyes transformed into something like relief, like she had sated a fear that for however much he might ask her to give, at least he would never ask for that. Or maybe, unbeknowst to him, she had just talked herself off a ledge that he would never know had been an option at all.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, bringing one knee onto the bed beside him and the other one between his legs. His breath caught in his throat as his body responded to the movement, “Are you…sure? I thought we still couldn’t. I — I lost count of the days.”

Her voice took on a soft note of mockery, exactly the way it did when she knew more than the other person, “As you always do.”

He took that to mean that they were once again free to do as they pleased for a few weeks, before the cycle of counting and caution began all over again. Yet even after all this time those days in the center of the month went by the slowest, so he immediately hooked his hand around her hips to pull her down on top of him.

She left one foot on the ground as she gave into his weight, letting him move her robe aside and bring his hands to her thighs. All the while she was sure to remain balanced on the tip of her foot, keeping herself from giving in completely even as she climbed far enough atop of him to let him think that it was fully off the ground.

Then she leaned back onto it, leaving him stranded on the bed as she moved her hand off of his neck, down his shirt front, and just above the button of his pants. She took it between her fingers and kept her eyes on his, silently telling him that she could unhook it without ever looking down, “But I never do; and I don’t make mistakes. So not until I say so, my love. Then, and only then.”

As his smile faded, she trailed her hand back up his shirtfront to his chin, letting it linger on his lips before she bent down to kiss him. He knew better now than to try and pull her down again, or even to bring his hands to her hips as they hovered above him. She moved away and looked down into his eyes as though to say, good boy. Then she walked away back to her well-worn seat at the vanity, leaving him with nothing but his half smoked cigarette and unspent longing.

#1932 #sims 4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #the darlingtons #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #1930s #Josephine Duplanchier #Giorgio Mistretta #sim spice

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yenonnoff · 21 days

Text

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! 25. fame is not for the weak

today, you weren’t “rising actress y/n l/n.” you were just a normal, law-abiding citizen spending the weekend watching oikawa tooru’s new film. that sentence alone should’ve been the first red flag that the trip would turn disastrous. the next was your co-star’s quote-unquote disguise. you cared less about the former: if you didn’t watch daybreak today, you’d be bombarded with spoilers from your friends later on. the latter, however, was inexcusable.

“you’re ridiculous,” you said, eyeing the blond actor up and down. “you don’t blend in, atsumu, you blend out.”

“glad you’re enjoying the view. it didn’t take me long to pull this together.”

it was true: the outfit was completely minimal. it barely required any thought, yet, it still looked perfectly coordinated and eye-catching. that was just atsumu’s irking influence on things—but that was exactly the problem. you’ve seen him in casual clothing before but it was even more salient today. compared to the people walking in and out of the movie theater, atsumu stood out like a sore thumb. it made you realize he was born to be on stage.

“your good looks are betraying you,” you sighed, eyes surveying the area hurriedly. the two of you had made sure to arrive an hour early for precautions, of course. still, with the small crowds coming and leaving, it made the two of you even more vulnerable and undeniably conspicuous. you tugged on atsumu’s sleeves, lowering him closer to the theater’s large indoor planters. you made a face, “what about our plans of not drawing attention to ourselves?”

you couldn’t see the teasing smile behind his white mask, but you had caught the twinkling amusement in his eyes. he wore a basic hoodie with his usual denim cap concealing his blond hair. (though, you made him remove his hood since someone was bound to mistake him for a creep or member of the paparazzi. you realized later that it was intentional, he just wanted to see your flustered expression).

atsumu leaned forward to say, “don’t worry. if someone recognizes us, just act clueless.”

“that doesn’t sound like a good plan.”

“i know,” he agreed. “i’ve never been caught before so i don’t think about backup plans too much.”

you were about to retaliate, call him ridiculous once more, but he stopped you before you could. grabbing your shoulders, he ushered you towards the dozy security guard at the end of the corner. atsumu chuckled, “let’s stop gawking and actually get in before your worst nightmare comes true.”

yeah, this was not the plan you had in mind.

you took your seats in the center all the way in the back row. it was for precautions, but at least you could see the whole screen. strangely enough, atsumu had let you take the middle armrest. he also humored you by answering all your spontaneous questions to pass the time.

the first topic was about your fellow co-stars.

“jolie… is loud. she’s too friendly for her own good, but she’s a hard worker; she rarely slacks off too. you should see her at parties though, she’s scary.” when he realized everything he said was mostly positive, atsumu crossed his arms to think. “don’t be fooled, she also has a really clumsy and high-maintenance side to her.”

“who? jolie?” you stifled a surprised laugh. you always saw her as incredibly charming and supportive so this was news to you.

“yeah, she always loses her phone. it’s a bigger hassle when she comes to you asking where it is. honestly, this girl thinks you’re the one to blame for her phone being lost.”

atsumu went on to recall other things too: “we met when i was acting during university. can you believe she’s a year older than me? we’ve been friends for a while so she was there when i broke up with emma.”

it was the slight grimace that made you change the subject. he seemed glad when you asked about semi. “he’s completely stoic and too professional. he reminds me of you in a way, but he does have his moments.”

he continued promptly. “this is my first time working with sugawara. though, i heard he’s pretty popular in the industry, both on and off-screen. for akane, i met her in some minor roles. she likes to ask me for tips and tricks sometimes.”

you listened and hummed while he spoke. you understood what was so enthralling about atsumu now. his good looks draw you in, sure—but it was the way he spoke so naturally and full of confidence that made you stay. he made you want to hear more: about himself and his casual attitude on things.

when atsumu finished speaking, there was still enough time to buy snacks before the theater got crowded for daybreak. he took the liberty to do so, sneaking back in before people started to swarm. they didn’t seem to notice the two of you all the way in the back. the middle rows were usually more favored anyway. then, the lights dimmed further and the room was consumed with darkness.

there were perks to being friends with thrill seekers. it meant you were immune to most things: horror movies being one of them.

everyone in the group had their own signature hangouts. you guys liked to rotate between each other’s preferences, it only seemed fair that way (this was only true during high school, however. during university and nowadays, you simply decided on things that worked with everyone’s schedules).

kuroo liked study dates and movie theaters the most. he’d always drag everyone to watch the latest movies, usually either horror or action. due to that, you’ve built an immunity to jump scares and supernaturals; it would take a lot to frighten you.

while you weren’t screaming or gripping the edge of your seat like others in the theater, you still enjoyed the movie nonetheless. oikawa’s flawless acting had completely occupied your attention, and on more than one occasion, you were watching with your jaw hung open. he was a man of many achievements, worthy of every praise for his charms and incredible acting skills. he was your inspiration, and you hoped fervently to be on the same stage as him one day.

before the ending credits could even roll, you and atsumu had already snuck out. it took you a while to steady yourself. the bright lights from outside the theater room had mercilessly attacked you when you stepped out, and you felt dizzy from staring at such a massive screen for so long.

atsumu saved you the cruel embarrassment, excusing himself to the restroom. you teased him before he went: “what—were you scared of the movie?”

“if i was, i wouldn’t be going to the restroom alone.”

“i’m sorry, i don’t think i can accompany you,” you said sincerely.

atsumu scoffed, not knowing whether to be vexed at the sheer genuineness in your voice or the embarrassment he was feeling. he grumbled, “i wasn’t going to ask you to!” then he stormed off with his hands shoved in his hoodie pocket.

while he did his business, you ventured to the merchandise area of the movie theater. surprisingly, you spotted merch for vengeance, your previous film, in the corner. shirts in various colors; tote bags; and small prints decorated the shelves from top to bottom. the bags were nearly sold out, it made you feel grateful that people still poured so much love into the film. besides you was a large poster hung from the ceiling. there was a close-up shot of you and your other co-stars. the editing was immaculate, they even made kuroo look g—

“y/n l/n?”

the unfamiliar voice that spoke your name made you freeze in place. in front of you was a girl you’ve never seen before. you staggered slightly, realization hitting you at full speed. this was a fan. her oikawa shirt, oikawa lanyard, oikawa pins, oikawa— they all gave her away instantly. your first thought was wow, too taken-aback by the girl’s clear devotion. your next thought was run, get away from the corner that would soon reveal your identity.

the fan didn’t waste a breath. she pointed to the large poster next to you, the one you’d been admiring. “look! that’s you right? you worked with tooru on vengeance!” she nearly squealed his first name.

you coughed to get her attention. her assumption was unbelievable, really. even if you were y/n l/n, your face was heavily concealed with a mask and cap. “what are you talking about? you’ve got the wrong person, my name is—“

“everyone, come! i think i found y/n l/n!” she turned to face you again, her eyes widened in excitement. “hey, can i get your autograph? how about a picture?”

you nearly facepalmed yourself. daybreak had just ended, all these people rushing into the merchandise store came from the same theater room as you. fuck.

you should’ve realized sooner that you were in the heart of tokyo, where the chances of running into a celebrity was augmented by at least 70%. of course there would be radical fans everywhere you went. diehard oikawa fans were possibly the worst of them all, this fan especially.

you were about to gently coax her that this was a misunderstanding when a large hoard of people started crowding towards your tiny corner. being suffocated by hardcore fans was not on your bucket list—seeing people get shoved and nearly trampled on wasn’t there either!

people pushed; they ran; they shouted. phones were shoved in your face, adrenaline rushed through your veins, and you had to yell over the mass to stop them from forcing their way towards you.

pandemonium struck the movie theater.

the dozy security guard from earlier bolted towards the herd in a hurry. clearly he’d finally snapped out of his drowsy state and commanded the crowd to disperse. then, a hand slid around your wrist and pulled you away from the mob. your breath hitched in your throat as the tall figure hurried you into a sprint out the building. you heard the roaring yelling resume when they realized you weren’t there anymore.

this was definitely not conspicuous at all. you were pretty sure your cover was blown… your blond co-star’s as well.

you raced with your heartbeat thundering against your rib cage. the two of you ran until you stopped by a short alleyway next to the street. you were furious at yourself for ruining your plans of being discreet, but for also destroying the pleasant movie trip for the both of you.

“atsumu, i’m sorry. that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

he didn’t answer you, his breathing still heavy. one of his hands remained enclosed around yours, the other went up to soothe the back of your head. you heard him say, “are you alright? first time that’s happened?”

you nodded to both questions. you were just flustered and shaken up by the whole ordeal. even if it wasn’t what atsumu meant by his second question, you understood what it conveyed about your reality as an actress. you were too naive and inexperienced. if the security guard hadn't come, someone would’ve been injured and you were to blame for not handling the situation properly. it was something you should’ve known as a public figure. diehard fans already lack respect and morality; the chances of them learning how to be decent human beings were obscenely low. it seems you’re the only one who can take control of these situations, even if it’s not your fault—even if you dislike it.

you felt atsumu take both of your hands in his. they were warm and full of comfort, they held yours gently with so much care that you could melt.

“don’t blame yourself, y/n. it’s never your fault, that should’ve never happened.” atsumu’s tone was full of frustration—not at you, but rather at himself.

you didn't have the energy to fight back. it was obvious: if you hadn’t gone into the merchandise area, you would’ve never been recognized. you walked into the lion’s den all by yourself; it was a situation you had complete control over.

minutes passed and atsumu ended his call with the taxi driver. he wanted to see you off at your condo, and you didn’t refuse. the damage has already been done. sure, this could land you in more trouble but you couldn’t help it. you were human. you were selfish. you wanted to stay with atsumu for a little longer, just a couple moments more.

you let out a low chuckle. “are you going to continue holding my hands, atsumu?” you brought them up in front of you. “both of them?”

his face finally softened. “maybe i’ll let go of one. just one though, the other is needed to open the door.”

the small moment was cut short by the arrival of the taxi. still, it was more than enough to console your dispirited heart.

as always, atsumu remained true to his words: your hands found each other again in the silent taxi, warm and heartbreakingly soothing.

“you’re not allowed to blame yourself, atsumu.”

your co-star exhaled a heavy breath. “isn’t that what i should be telling you?”

“i’m fully aware of what happened. it was my fault i was in that situation—don’t try and deny it, atsumu. i’ll take responsibility for whatever happens tomorrow.”

“you’re too professional, y’know that?” he asked and you nodded vehemently. “i’d like to talk to y/n, the one that likes roller coasters and lives off of coffee, not the y/n that’s a prim workaholic. can you ring her up for me?”

you huffed, squeezing his hand. you were currently standing in front of your condo still holding your stubborn co-star’s hand. perhaps you were both stubborn—too focused on different priorities to understand one another. “i’m being serious. i enjoyed today. thank you for letting me watch daybreak before getting every detail spoiled.”

atsumu was about to counter, but you beat him to it. “don’t say that today was a mistake! i knew the consequences but i still went… if you’re going to blame yourself, you might as well blame me too for agreeing to go.”

“hey, you can’t do that to me. now i’m backed into a corner,” he frowned beneath his mask. “then promise me you won’t beat yourself over this. if things get out of hand tomorrow in the media, you’ll let me help you. please rely on me too, y/n.”

“i promise. i’m an adult too, atsumu.”

“yes,” he breathed, slow and firm. “you’re so incredibly strong you put all the other adults to shame.”

you could crumble at the underlying softness in his voice. you could crumble from how clearly upset he was at everything that’s transpired. “then i should probably head inside. thanks for walking me all the way up here, you’ll be sneaky when you leave, right?”

the sound of his laughter eased your mind, and you let go of his hand. the two of you shared a moment of sweetened silence before he watched you disappear behind your door. you both knew then that it’ll be a while before you would spend time with one another again.

atsumu lowered his head and removed his denim cap. with a rough hand, he raked it through his messy hair and sighed. he desperately needed something to clear his mind, perhaps a nap that would last at least three hours. the blond turned away from the closed door to do just that. he was going to go home, shower, eat, and doze until the next day.

“atsumu miya?”

the tall blond whispered a curse in his mind before spotting a black haired lady in front of him. he looked left and right, behind and in front. he pointed a confused finger at himself. “me?”

the pretty lady with the distinctive mole near her lips laughed softly. “yes, you. i saw you in front of y/n’s door. were you two hanging out earlier?”

atsumu’s face bloomed in realization. she was undeniably familiar, and he was sure he’d seen her somewhere before. that’s right, she was a model in the same agency as emma. what a small world.

atsumu rubbed the back of his neck, only saying, “yeah.” how long was she there for? how much did she see? god, did she see them holding hands? atsumu grumbled under his breath, heat rising unexpectedly to his cheeks. it was just one after another, the two of you needed a break.

“actually, i wanted to talk to you for a moment if that’s alright with you.”

he tilted his head in curiosity. she said it would only be a moment and that where they were standing would suffice. however, her expression was inexplicably serious. he braced himself for her few words.

“i know that you and y/n have spent a lot of time together, but i want to know how you feel towards her. with your current situation, y/n could be affected negatively if people found out.”

it was a sensible question but one that was hard to answer. atsumu wondered how close the two of them were; it was understandable why she would be concerned about her friend’s career and his intentions. and he fully understood what she’d meant by “current situation.” he was completely aware. even if he hated it, emma’s foolish shenanigans and her crazy fans were targeted at him and only him. you shouldn’t be dragged into it.

“she brings me comfort in a way. there’s not many people that i feel comfortable around, so I’m grateful towards her. i’ll take responsibility for anything that happens; it’s my fault anyway since i was the one that wanted to hang out. don’t worry, we probably won’t be spending time together again any time soon.”

his words hinted at two meanings. first, filming that summer was the number one priority. second, atsumu would do anything to protect your career and peace of mind.

the pleasant lady in front of atsumu nodded. her eyes were clear of any doubt, shining instead with gratitude. “thank you for your time. i hope you have a safe trip back.”

“thank you,” the blond replied, walking towards the elevator at the end of the hall.

atsumu didn’t have the words to sum up today’s events. however, everything had unfolded in front of him and he was face-to-face with a realization. a cruel one that he needed to accept. it wasn’t the right time for the two of you. no matter how much atsumu might want it, he couldn’t deny that now wasn’t the time. it might never be the time, but that was something he needed to realize.

the world was heartlessly cruel.

masterlist ⌒☆ previous ⌒☆ next

fun facts:

if it were anyone else, atsumu would've definitely hogged the middle armrest all to himself. he would do it with the popcorn and snacks too. the bucket stays with him! he finds it too troublesome to reach over and grab it.

it's why he doesn't like going to the movie theaters (mentioned in chapter 19) since he only ever goes with either osamu or rin. it always ends in an argument and the other people there hate them all.

jolie is the type to look for her phone while on call with someone.

whenever she does lose it during filming, she always goes to semi because she knows he'll (begrudgingly) look for it with her.

can you tell i have the biggest, fattest crush on shimizu. i wanted to go full rampant on describing how pretty she is but i had to control myself!

i felt very bad writing this chapter. no matter how careful you may try to be, people make mistakes and they always blame themselves for it. there are external factors that you can't control; it's just the harsh reality of things.

TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! ｡ｏ♡ an atsumu miya smau

synopsis: when y/n l/n, a rising actress, decides to star in a romance film that could make or break her career, she’s unable to showcase her skills, revealing her inexperience within the romance department instead. worst of all, atsumu miya, her co-star and the main lead’s love interest, seems to hate her guts! with absolutely, unbearably zero chemistry between the two, an idea was proposed: spend time with one another in the upcoming weeks. will y/n be able to ignore her professionalism and listen to her heart? and will she, a clueless romantic, be able to pick up on the signs her co-star is sending her?

a/n: i think this ch was a little heavier than i intended it to be but it was also a lot easier to write than i thought. yay! drama! haha! i'm always learning how to be more impactful and purposeful with my writing. words don't always come as easily as i would like them to be but this ch was a step in the right direction! i hope that was how it felt to you guys as well!

taglist is open! dm or ask to be a part of it! (those bolded were unable to be tagged)

@kqbukimono @empathum @clyver @chosoluv @oceansfloor @sunarots @marga-j @rukia-uchiha-98 @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ast4rg1rl @seiamor @saiewithakatana @usermins @literally-a-ferret @terrarain @iuspired @haruskatana @wolffmaiden @ris-krispie @vellichxrr6782 @animenaces-world @reignsaway @emii4evr @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @yuminako @tojirin @v3nusplanetofluv @vyvixen @secondary-character-25 @tenjikusstuff4 @444choso @mylahrins @deimmortales99 @hisfuture @staywhelmed8801 @dl-yum @nessaasstuff @milesmoralesluvs @101tsumu @ryeyeyer @cherrypieyourface @azharyy @mimi3lover @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @dazball

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forays-into-fiction · 2 years

Text

Take Me Shopping Eds

Eddie shows you just how alike the two of you are and you fall even harder for him, plus a little shopping trip as a reward. Another Eddie x Bambi fic.

Eddie x Bambi Masterlist

Minors DNI

Contains: Perv!Eddie/Not So Innocent!Girly!Reader, Dom!Eddie/Sub!Reader, Mutual Masturbation, Mild/Hints at Mild Knifeplay, Honorifics/Petnames (Sir, Bambi, Baby, Babe, Sweetheart, Princess), Dirty Talk, Degradation/Name-calling (Slut), Praise Kink, Corruption Kink, Unprotected Sex, Public Sex, Oral (Female Receiving)

You and Eddie sit in his trailer, Wayne was at work as usual, the two of you curl up on the couch having put on a movie. You lean into him, head pressed against his chest, legs curled up beside you on the rest of the lounge.

You’re not really paying attention to the tv, just enjoying Eddie’s touch, almost on the verge of drifting off to sleep. His fingers absentmindedly trace along the tattoo on your thigh as they creep up under your skirt. You wonder if he even realises that he’s doing it.

He gets your attention unexpectedly, an uncertainty creeping into his voice as he says, “Hey, I was thinking…”

You tilt your head up towards him, “Yeah, what’s that babe?”

The corners of his mouth upturn briefly at the sound of the word ‘babe’ before he continues, “… do you want me to make Eddie Bear smell like me again? I could… I could show you what I did…”

“Would you?” You gasp, “Oh, please, yes I would love that.”

He chuckles at your eagerness, “Ok, next time you come over, don’t forget to bring him.”

And the next day you do, you take the big brown bear and shove him in your locker at school, going the whole day distracted. When you meet Eddie by the front doors at the end of the day you hold the toy clutched to your chest.

He gives you a quick kiss, the bear pressed firmly between the pair of you. His eyes drift down between you to look at ‘Eddie Bear’, “Can’t believe, I’m gonna do this…” he breathes out.

Then looking up at you he brushes his thumb over your cheek, “Come on Bambi, we got the trailer to ourselves all night tonight, Wayne isn’t due back til about four in the morning.”

He takes a step back and leads you over to his van, helping you in as usual. Always the gentleman, until he was decidedly not as you had learned in recent experience, and in the best possible way.

You were practically vibrating with excitement the whole ride over, tonight he was going to let loose a little, show you more of his pervy side and you couldn’t wait. When you get inside, he turns to you nervously, “Do you wanna get right into it or…”

He glances away, not meeting your eyes, hand rubbing along the back of his neck.

You step closer and grab his other hand, the bear in your arm dropping to your side, his eyes are drawn back to you. “Hey, no need to get shy on me now, I will never judge you for these kinds of things. I love you Eddie, nothing will change that no matter how perverted you may think it is.” You assure him.

He looks back at you with an overwhelming adoration, “You really mean that?”

“Of course, I do. Hey, I’m just as perverted as you, you know…” you giggle, “we match.”

That gets a chuckle from him, “Yeah we do, surprisingly… and you’ll see just how much in a sec.”

“Alright then, take me to your bedroom. I wanna see you put on a show.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him earning another laugh.

“Ok, come on”

You follow along into his room, moving to sit on the end of his bed cross-legged, with the bear between your legs. He stands before you still a little unsure of himself, so you prompt him, “Why don’t you start by getting undressed, I love seeing you naked.”

He chokes out a gasp, “Yep, al-alright.”

He sheds his clothes clumsily, until he’s down to just his boxers, erection tenting the fabric there.

You give him an encouraging wolf-whistle and he blushes, laughing, “Stop, I’m not-”

You cut him off before he can finish, “You are fucking gorgeous is what you are. Look at you, all hard already. Is that for me?”

You pout up at him, looking at him lustily through your lashes, your hands fiddling with the toy in your lap.

“Fuck, yeah Bambi always hard for you, you have no idea.”

You beckon him with a finger, “Alright come show me what you did to my little Eddie Bear that had him smelling so delicious.”

“I uh… need something first.” He mumbles.

“Yeah, what do you need baby?”

“Uhhh… a knife.” He then rushes to add, “Is that… is that ok? I promise I won’t do anything to hurt you or scare you with it.”

“A knife?” You hum curiously, “Yeah that’s ok, I know you won’t hurt me. I trust you.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief, moving over to his bedside table going through one of the drawers. He moves to sit on the bed in front of you flipping a pocket knife over and over in his hand, “You still ok with this?” He asks searching your eyes.

“Yep babe, all green here.” You confirm.

“Ok, pass me Eddie Bear.”

You hold the teddy out towards him and he takes it, “So, what I did first is, you see this seam right here…” he twists the bear and indicates with the knife in his hand, drawing the closed blade across the stitching, “I cut along there.”

“Show me.”

“Ok.” He flips the blade open and carefully cuts through the seam, he closes the blade back up quickly and tosses it aside.

He shows you the opening there and stretches it with his fingers, poking at the stuffing inside.

You whimper, imagining those fingers buried inside your cunt instead, arousal beginning to flow through you, practically drooling from both ends.

“Uhh huh, then what?” You murmur, hands moving to toy with the hem of your skirt.

“Umm… do you think… do you think you could give me something to look at while I…” he trails off.

“Of course, baby. Just like you did for me when you caught me that first time?”

“Please.” He groans.

Your hands move to the buttons on your frilly blouse, eagerly you shed your clothing, leaving you also in nothing but your underwear and his guitar pick necklace. You had donned a matching little baby blue set with white bows placed on the band between your cleavage and one at the waistband of your panties.

“Aww look at you with your little bows, so cute.” He coos eyes trailing over your body appreciatively.

You giggle, “So, what did you do next?”

“Well, I can’t say I took my time with it, but I positioned the toy on the bed like this…” he demonstrates, “and then I kinda held it like this, so I could squeeze my cock through the stuffing, control the… tightness.”

He curls his hand pressing it into the bear’s stomach above the opening, “And then I… I fucked it.”

“Show me Eds, please.” You whine.

“O-ok.” He replies shakily, hands moving to roll down his boxers.

You eye his weepy, bright red cock as it spills out, licking your lips unconsciously. He fists it lazily, spreading his precum along its length and you watch with rapt attention.

He can’t bring himself to look at you at first as he eases himself into the hole he’d created in your teddy, but once he’s fully seated inside his eyes drift up towards you. He begins thrusting slowly, shallowly, he gasps when he catches sight of the wet spot forming on the front of your panties, “Is this… is this making you wet sweetheart, watching me fuck your toy?”

You nod your head, “Mhmmm, can I touch myself, while you-”

“Yes! Yes absolutely!” He gasps eagerly.

You dip one hand into the waistband of your panties, collecting your wetness and playing with your clit, “Tell me what you thought about when you did it the first time Eds.”

“Thought… hmmm… thought about you, the way my guitar pic sits between those perky tits like it is now…” his eyes travel to the swell of your breasts and you unclasp your bra with your free hand pulling it off and tossing it aside.

You begin twisting one of your nipples as he continues, “…thought about after… giving you the teddy, how you’d sleep with it…”

You slide your panties off giving him a full view of your dripping pussy as you plunge two fingers between your folds. He gasps his pace quickening, hand tightening in the toy, “oh god… fuck… how you’d always have a little piece of me cuddled up with you. Thought ‘bout how you sometimes press little kisses to the noses of your teddies, thought ‘bout you kissing me. And then you named him after me... goddamn...”

“Yeah? Bet you never thought I’d be riding it too?” You tease breathily, adding another finger and pressing into your clit with the heel of your palm.

“Fuck… shit… no never could have imagined that back then. Thought you were too innocent, thought I was gonna ruin you one day.” He pants.

Your giggle is cut short by a drawn-out moan, lust coils in your belly like a tightening spring, you grind against your palm more firmly, “Yeah, tell me… tell me how you were going to corrupt me, turn me into your dirty little slut…”

His hips stutter in their motions, losing rhythm as he chokes out a gasp, “Fuck Bambi, thought I’d have to teach you everything. Thought every little thing this damn town thinks about me is true… I’m just some perverted, freak, a sinner going to drag you down with me… this adorable, innocent little thing and I was going to defile you.” He bucks into the toy more vigorously, shaking the bed beneath the two of you, it creaks in response, adding to the wet, slick sounds and whimpering moans from the pair of you.

“Oh god… fuck… Eddie.” You double down on the pace to match him.

“Thought about filling you with my cum like I did with this toy… Christ… fuck, I’m close… are you close Bambi?” He looks up at you desperately.

“S-so close… so close… can you… can you tell me to cum, sir? Please?”

“Fuck yes, sweetheart… cum for me like the good little slut you are.” He growls.

Your walls begin to flutter around your fingers, you throw back your head with a cry of his name, drenching your digits as you pulse rhythmically on them. Your wetness dribbles out, down between your asscheeks onto his bed.

He follows along after you matching your cries, hips stilling, buried into the toy beneath him.

He lets himself fall forward into the mattress, trapping the toy beneath him, panting. His cheek is pressed flat against the bed, he avoids looking at you until you move to run your hand through his messy curls.

“That was perfect Eddie, you did so good. Thank you.”

“Yeah? It wasn’t… it wasn’t too much?”

You push him to sit up, a hand pressed to his bare chest as he slips out of the abused teddy bear. You clamber into his lap, arms curling around him, nuzzling into his shoulder and he settles back against the pillows.

“You are never ‘too much’, don’t ever think that. I want you exactly as you are.”

“God damn, I love you, Bambi.” He breathes out, his hand coming around to rub your back.

You lift your head from his shoulder and look up at him, “Love you too Eds… sooo much.”

He pulls you in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

“So, whatta ya wanna do now?”

“Well, we gotta clean up a bit, but after do you wanna go shopping?” You ask hopefully.

He laughs and strokes your hair, “Anything for you princess, you know that.”

“Thank you, Eddie.” You reply sugar-sweet as always, grinning up at him happily.

You jump up before nodding to the toy left lying on the bed, “How about you hang onto him for a few days, make sure the smell sticks around nice and long this time.”

“Jesus fucking Christ y/n, how do you still catch me off guard like that?” He groans.

“Come on let’s get ready, I got something special planned for the shops.” You whine tugging on his arm.

Starcourt Mall had opened not too long ago and you loved it, it had everything you could ever want and more.

Eddie’s favourite part was the new record store, he could spend hours in there and you loved seeing the joy that would overtake his face as he went through the records or spoke animatedly with the workers, he didn’t even have to buy anything to be happy.

You always took note of anything he showed interest in, in there, got him little presents here and there, as he would for you. He still had a hard time accepting your gifts he’d always say it was ‘too much’ and he didn’t need anything like that, but if it made him happy you wanted him to have it.

You suggested the two of you start there at the record store, hand in hand, he grins down at you, “Thought this shopping trip was supposed to be for you.”

You smile back, “Yes but I like going to the record store with you, and just ‘cause we do something for me doesn’t mean you can’t have fun too.”

He pulls you closer, draping his arm over you, “Always so sweet to me, what’d I ever do to deserve you?”

You know it’s rhetorical but you want to reassure him, “Nah, I think I’m the lucky one here, always getting treated like a princess.”

He lays a kiss to the top of your head, “As you should be.”

You bump against him, “Come on let’s go.”

He ends up buying some new strings for his guitar, you had noticed him eyeing a new Metallica album, ‘Ride the Lightning’. Without him noticing you slide up to the counter and buy it for him, slipping it straight into your backpack. When you exit the shop he turns to you, “Where to next then?”

“Oh, there was this really cute dress I saw from JCPenny! Let’s go there!” You gasp.

“Sure thing, lead the way princess.”

You take him by the arm, dragging him through the throngs of people going about their shopping and he finds he doesn’t mind the odd stares people still occasionally throw his way. Not when he’s got you hanging off his arm anyway.

You buy a few things, enter a few different stores before turning to him, “So there’s one more place I wanna go and this is the special thing I had planned.”

“Ok, you have piqued my interest, go on.”

“Soooo… I wanna go to the lingerie store, Lovelace… you know the one down-”

“Yes!”

You giggle at his enthusiasm, “Alright come on then.”

You take his hand once more leading him down a few stores, walking past Scoops Ahoy and stopping right in front of Lovelace. He trails behind you as you go through the racks picking out all sorts of things, all pink and lacy with bows.

You make sure he doesn’t spot the last item you picked out, pointing in the opposite direction, “Whatta you think of that one the mannequin has on over there Eds?”

While he’s distracted you hide it in the bundle, something in his favourite colour, extra special, just for him.

“Yeah, uh… it’s nice sweetheart, you wanna try that one too?”

You hum as if considering, “Nah, I think this is enough for now. Will you come into the change room with me?” You pout up at him, flashing your puppy dog eyes.

“Uhh… what?” he splutters.

“I wanna do like a little ‘fashion show’. It’ll be fun and I wanna get your opinion on some of these before I buy ‘em.”

“Ok, uhh huh yep sounds… fun.” His voice comes through strained and you giggle at him.

“Let’s go.”

You drag him back to the changing rooms, he stumbles along after you dumbfounded.

You pull the curtain closed behind the pair of you and dump your little pile of lingerie on the chair there beside the mirror.

You spin around to face him grinning up at him as you slowly strip off your clothing and pull on the first set in the pile. You give him a little twirl, “So we have this one… what do you think?”

He stares at you slack jawed for a moment “Fantastic… amazing. Buy it. Love the little bows, you and your bows always like a pretty little present for me.”

You giggle, “Ok next set…”

You continue like that ‘til the last item, “So… this one I got special for you, ‘cause I know it’s your favourite colour…” You hold it up against you and spin around to show him.

“Fuck… right, no honestly what did I do to deserve you?”

You giggle at him, “You know this is called a teddy too, maybe when we get home you can cut a hole in it and fuck me like you did with Eddie Bear.”

“You really love to torture me, don’t you? First, with your little ‘fashion show’ now this? Bambi please, I’m begging you, I’m so fucking hard my dick could cut glass.”

“Well, you got me here now…”

“What here in public?! Just when I think I’ve got you figured out, you say shit like that and I’m just fucking gobsmacked. If… if we do, you gotta be quiet, ok?”

You bite your lip and nod, he grabs the teddy out of your grip tossing it aside before pulling you flush against him kissing all the air from your lungs. His hand travels down the length of your body, running through the neatly trimmed thatch of curls at the apex of your thighs. He circles your clit briefly before running his fingertips down lower. You gasp into his mouth as he teases at your entrance.

“God baby, you’re so wet already, lemme taste you…”

You nod your head against his, foreheads bumping lightly, he’s quick to drop to his knees, looking up at you in adoration.

His gaze drops to the tattoo by his face and he groans. “Ohhhhh God… I just wanna leave bitemarks on you…”

“Y-you can…” you whimper softly in response.

His eyes practically pop out of his head, “Yeah?”

You answer with a nod and he bites down on the soft flesh of your thigh, right next to the tattoo. He bites down harder and starts sucking and licking at the spot, leaving you gasping and dripping with need. When he pulls back there’s a bruise forming and the outline of his teeth.

“Now I’m gonna taste you.” He growls lowly before sinking his face between your thighs, hands moving to spread them wide in a bruising grip.

He dives in and you whimper, biting your lip, he pulls back giving you a warning, “Don’t make too much noise. You’re gonna get us caught if you make too much noise.”

He returns to your slick folds, tongue probing in all the right places, your hands tangle into his long curls. When he brings one of hands to join, slipping in two of his digits and sucking hard on your clit you can’t hold back the moan that follows.

“I said be quiet.” He growls again, hand searching for something beside him. He finds what he’s looking for, your hands drop from his head as he stands slowly. You realise he’s got your panties balled up in his fist.

“Open.”

“Huh?” You look up at him in confusion.

“Open your mouth.” He orders.

You follow through and he stuffs your panties into your mouth.

“There, that should keep you quiet.”

Your whine is muffled by the fabric as he sinks back down to his knees resuming his ministrations.

You��re a quivering shaking mess above him, stumbling back until your back hits the cool surface of the mirror behind you. The panties in your mouth dampening with your saliva as you pant and moan around them. He doesn’t relent until you’re seeing stars, cumming all over his tongue and fingers.

Your chest heaves with the exertion and he’s rising to face you again, “Turn around and bend over I wanna fuck you from behind.” His voice deep and rumbly in your ear.

You do as you’re told, bracing yourself against the mirror, looking back at your own reflections, over your shoulder and into his eyes. “…that’s it, watch us in the mirror.”

He fumbles with his belt and jeans tugging them down to his ankles along with his boxers, unceremoniously. He fists his cock lazily, a few passes before he’s guiding it between your slick folds, with a groan he whispers in your ear, “I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to keep quiet sweetheart but I’ll try.”

He begins thrusting shallowly, his head resting on your shoulder, panting in your ear. He grips your hips firmly holding you in place. For someone who was so adamant about keeping quiet, he sure is talking a lot, “My cock is so hard for you… fuck… I wanna pound you so fucking hard… mmhhh… but we can’t let anyone hear us… hngh.”

You push back into him, flexing your walls around him “God you feel sooo good… oh fuck oh fuck hmmm… God yes push back into me just like that, cause if I fuck you any harder, we’ll knock that mirror down.”

All his dirty whispers directly in your ear have you falling to pieces, you’re grateful of the material in your mouth muffling your cries, you know you’d be screaming if you could. His arms wrap around you one moving up to your tits squeezing and kneading the flesh there, the other going down to your clit, brushing against it softly.

“You close sweetheart, just thinking of all those people on the other side of that curtain, if they could hear us, if they could know what we’re doing, what I’m doing to you, if they knew what a slut Hawkins’ little good girl is…”

You clamp down around him forcing your hips back even more, “God, do you feel that? Do you feel how wet you are? You’re drenching my thighs right now.”

You’re close, so close, right on the precipice. If he continues like this, one more stroke, one more whisper from his filthy mouth…

“Jesus, I want nothing more than to hear you scream my name… but just knowing that there’s people so close, you gonna cum on my cock princess?”

And you do earthshattering, mind-blowing your orgasm crashes over you wave after wave, jolts of electricity passing over your skin. He fucks you through it all groaning encouragingly, “Cum on my cock, you dirty slut… mhmmm yes, fuck cum on my cock that’s it…”

And suddenly he bites down on your shoulder, muffling his own cries as he unloads deep into your wet heat, hips still pistoning away.

The two of you are breathing heavily, barely standing, propped up by the wall, you pull the underwear out of your mouth gasping, “Th-thank you Eddie, that was… amazing.”

“Fuck tell me about it, Bambi.” He pulls out of you, flipping you around to face him you grin back at him.

You barely manage it, on your shaky legs, but you uncrumple your sodden panties and slip them back on. They settle against your skin, collecting everything that drips out, soiling them further. You make an attempt at collecting your clothing, mumbling to him, “We’ve been in here too long we should collect everything and go check out.”

“You’re not even gonna give me a second to recover after that? Uhh Uhh, sweetheart come here.” He pulls you against him once more, kissing you softly, quick little pecks between each word, “You. Are. The. Worst. You. Know. That.”

You push on his chest, whining, “Stooop. At least let me get dressed.”

“Alright fine.” He huffs dramatically.

You giggle re-dressing yourself as he watches rightening his own clothing in the process. You begin collecting the discarded items of lingerie when you get to that one, the one in his favourite colour, “That’s it, that’s definitely the one.” You announce, turning to show it off to him once more.

“Oh, baby I’m getting all of them for you. Have I ever told you how much I love shopping with you?”

“Really? You don’t have to get them all you know.”

“No, I want to. And you’re right we have been in here too long let’s take all of this to the counter and check out.”

You collect all your selections and he nods to the floor, “Don’t forget your bag sweetheart.”

He pulls the curtain open for you, stepping aside to let you pass through and you carry your armful of lingerie over to the counter giddy smile plastered across your face.

The lady at the register gives you an odd look, but doesn’t ask any questions as she scans through your purchases. Eddie pays and the cashier wishes you a good evening, you smirk, if only she knew.

Eddie is struggling as the pair of you leave the store, he can’t stop thinking about what he just did, following you along mindlessly. Watching your little skirt flutter about your legs as you bounce along, thinking of your saliva and cum soaked panties resting between your thighs, the way his bitemarks looked against your skin. He really is going to hell for this, he thinks, but it’ll all be worth it for you.

“You wanna get some dinner from the food court?” You ask looking over to him, but he doesn’t respond.

“Eddie…” Still nothing.

“Edddds…” You whine more insistently.

He shakes his head, “Huh, what? Sorry sweetheart what was that? I was kinda spaced for a minute.”

You giggle, “Yeah, I can tell. I said, do you wanna get something for dinner?”

“From the food court?”

“Yep, I’m thinking maybe a burger and fries… or pizza?”

“Sure sweetheart, sounds good. You want a milkshake too?”

“Oh, you know me too well Eddie. I absolutely want a milkshake.”

As you sit down to eat with him you pull your backpack up into your lap, “I uhhh… I kinda got something for you too.”

“Hmmm… Whatcha get sweetheart?” he mumbles through a mouthful of food.

Unzipping the bag, you pull out ‘Ride the Lightning’ and his jaw drops, “You didn’t have to do that Bambi, I coulda’ got it myself next time…”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.” You echo his earlier statement. “I saw how you were eyeing it and you got me something too, so…”

“Yeah, but mine was also a gift to myself.” He chuckles, grinning cheekily.

“Yes, it was and I will be rewarding you for it for a very long time.”

He groans, “Yeah?”

“Absolutely… would be even if you hadn’t paid for my stuff.”

“Well, let’s hurry up and get back to the trailer then.” He begins scarfing down his food at an even more alarming pace.

You giggle at him, “Slow down, you’ll choke. I’ll still be here baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?” There’s an unexpected weight behind his words.

“Yes. I promise. I love you, Eddie.”

“Love you too, Bambi.” He sighs almost in relief.

Taglist: @strangerthings1983fan @hellfirefiend @justskin-and-bones

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