pairing: nick jakoby x reader
fandom: bright—after movie sequence
anon request: You could write anything about Nick Jakoby , especially something sexy , and I would be super happy!! 😈😈
notes: NSFW (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)
(this is my second smut piece, my first with a male character so please don’t roast me for this)
—check out my other works; masterlist
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
After another tiring day filled with paperwork, one arrest, and nasty insults, Nick just about had it. Even after he saved the world (along with Ward), the working conditions within the Los Angeles Police Department remained the same. Day in and day out, he's being overlooked for serious cases to do intern filing. The harassment has dwindled a tad bit since Pollard had been disposed of, but Nick still feels the suppression by his peers and superiors. No matter what he does, it'll never be enough.
The only good thing about being the only Orc is the fact that he can do nightly patrols alone. He can listen to smooth jazz or orcish metal without Ward bugging him about it. The thoughts swirling in his head can be sifted through in quiet. There's plenty of endless opportunities he can grasp onto during night patrols.
One of those opportunities is the chance to speak to you without Ward pestering him to hurry up. No, the nighttime allowed Nick to savor a few, undisturbed moments with you before he clocks out.
By the time Nick pulls up to the bodega you work in, it's a downpour with thunder in the background. Surprisingly, the usual shining yellow lights are completely out and the front of the store is closed up. Nick looks down at the dashboard where the red digital clock shines: 11:37 pm. His forehead furrows. The bodega's closing time is 1 am, not 11 pm. It's odd and a bit saddening. Nick deflates at the missed opportunity to see your gorgeous smile. Even more so when he realizes he has tomorrow off.
He'll wait for the next chance.
Putting on the windshield on the fastest mode, Nick peels out of the sidewalk and continues his patrol. He has less than half an hour left on his shift. He'll make the best of it by driving slow since the usual bodies walking the streets were gone to avoid being drenched. The thunder calmed his sadness as he drove. However, he noticed someone walking the streets. Ward's voice automatically rang through his brain, ‘don't be too nice, it only causes problems.’
But when did Nick ever truly listen to Ward's negativity? No, he wasn't going to let someone potentially get pneumonia. So he pulls over to the shaking figure whose umbrella is practically broken. It doesn't shield the person from the rain at all.
Nick rolls down the window. "Excuse me!" The person halts and turns to him. He can't see who they are through the blankets of rain. "Would you like a ride? Can't have you getting sick."
Their head frantically nods before bolting inside his vehicle. Instead of sitting in the backseat, they slide into the front with him. "Nick, you are my guardian angel."
At the voice, Nick freezes. He knows it better than he knows most protocols for his job. Like a bee flocking to fresh flowers after a rainy day, he constantly attempts to be around that voice for rejuvenation. But that only happens when he's prepared to see you. He needs to hype himself up before speaking to you. After he saw the bodega closed, the energy simmered down to calmness. Now, he's anxious because the pep talk motivation is all gone. He knows he'll just make a right fool of himself in front of you.
You begin to shed your soaked jacket and the cardigan underneath before throwing them on the car floor along with your side purse. After squeezing out the excess water from your hair, you turn to greet Nick with a smile. It takes a lot of willpower for Nick not to stare at your hardened nipples.
"Hey," His voice cracks and he wants to die. "What were you doing walking in this storm?"
You dramatically threw yourself on the backrest before huffing. "Fernando told me to head home early because of the rain, but he fucking forgot to pick me up. Talking about being busy and shit. We all know he's too busy fucking Maria. I wanted to call Daryl but it's practically midnight and I know he would drag me through the wringer if I dared to bother him. Then, I was like," You gasp, "I can always count on his really cute but shy partner." You give Nick a sly look and he looks away bashfully. To keep himself occupied, he begins driving away. "But I realized that he never gave me his number so I just decided to walk instead."
Nick never knows how to respond to your teasing or flirting. The suave style his inner self tries to hype him with never sees the light of day. Instead, it's replaced with stuttering. "I drove by the store." Again his voice cracks, so he says it again. "To look for you. I mean to get a red-Redbull."
The expression on your face lets him know that you definitely heard what he said. "You do that often, you know?" He looks at you expectantly while making a right turn. "I thought in the beginning when I would flirt with you, that it was one-sided. You always look so damn uncomfortable. But then, Daryl tells me sometimes when you don't have the night shift, that you still pull up to the Fernando's at midnight. I thought to myself, why would Nick do that if he obviously doesn't like me?" You snap your fingers. "But then I started noticing the little glances you threw at me, the little compliments, and the adorable flush of dark blue on your skin. I knew right then and there that the feelings are definitely mutual.
"And yet, you never make a move." You sigh and mumble an "I don't get it."
This is the most conversation Nick has ever had with you and of course, he's fucking nervous. Inner Nick never prepared him for such a conversation. At this point, he just wants to jump out of the car and jog to the police station. He'll make an elaborate story about how he got hijacked by a gang. Yeah, he'll get more ridicule for it, but he doesn't care. As if sensing his dilemma, you reach over, grab his arm and tell him to drive a different way to your house. He doesn't question it but he's confused by the time he drives into deserted dirt-covered land. He turns to ask you about it, but the smolder you give shuts him up. Your hand returns to his bicep and it flexes underneath your fingers. After feeling his muscles for a bit, your hand travels to hold his chin. He watches you carefully, lips parted and eyes wide.
"Tell me what you want."
Nick stutters for a moment, unable to comprehend the situation. Is this a dream? It has to be. In this reality or any other alternate realities, you would not be sending out such delicious pheromones directed at him. Pants tightening and hands sweaty, Nick whispers his desires. He needs you now before he explodes.
You smile sweetly before leaning over and pressing a searing kiss on his lips. As soon as it connects, Nick is moaning as if you'd already sucked him off. A little pride swells in your chest. While your working on his lips, your other hand moves down to rub his bulge, eliciting even more moans. It's making you extremely hot. So, you move away from him and take your shirt off, leaving your bra-less chest hanging out. Eyes wide, Nick looks around frantically.
"We can't—" You cut him off with another kiss to his lips.
"Do you trust me?" He nods eagerly. "Then trust me when I say no one comes here. Now let's take this to the back, shall we?"
After quickly going from the front seat to the back while trying to stay as dry as possible, you pounce on Nick, hands roaming his broad chest while he tentatively moves his hands to cup your ass. A low moan comes from you and in turn, Nick grabs them harder. His lips begin to trail down your neck as you're grinding on his restricted cock.
You're chanting for Nick to fuck you already. Words like 'please', 'fuck me', and 'oh god' fill the air alongside low growls from Nick. Eventually, he's had enough with heavy petting and decides to let himself go. You barely get a chance to see his cock before he's ripping a hole in your leggings, moving your panties, and inserting himself within you. A loud gasp emits from your lips as you try to grind yourself down some more. But you can't.
No, Nick is in charge.
His powerful thighs give him the leverage to pound into you at unknown speeds. You once even said faster, and your boy complied swiftly. His hands grab your hips hard, using you as a rag-doll as his rhythm picks up and you're getting fucked to the point your seeing stars. There's drool seeping out of your opened mouth and Nick takes it as a chance to lick it up before digging his dull tusks into your neck. As soon as he does, the Big Bang happens behind your vision, the built orgasm just exploding.
Despite this, Nick continues. Your pussy is oversensitive but you don't tell him to stop because he hasn't gotten his fill yet. But you know you're going to orgasm again before he does. Not even a minute later, you do. At this point your begging Nick to finish. You begin to kiss his neck, searching for his sensitive spot. When you do, you suck on it as if your life depends on it. That does it for him.
A deep, loud orc growl emits from him as he says "Fuck!" Within seconds later, he's spilling his cum into you. It takes a moment for him to fully finish, but even after he's done, he still holds you.
"Oh, Nick." You breathily moan as you peel yourself off of him. Looking down, you find his uniform pants completely ruined—your juices mixed with his cum smearing his entire right pant leg. "We made such a mess."
Nick shyly smiles, his chest still moving at a rapid pace. "Sorry,"
Shaking your head, you lean forward into him and press a kiss on his sweaty collarbone. "You know how you can make it up to me?" He hums and closes his eyes, savoring your gentle touches. "By taking me to dinner and maybe, just maybe, making me your girlfriend."
His eyes snap open to watch your expression for a moment. A soft smile adorns your swollen lips, eyes on the verge of closing, and face devoid of any worries. His heart feels full of adoration, knowing that he wants to have you in his arms for as long as he can.
Without replying, Nick presses a kiss on your forehead, hoping that action alone can convey everything he wants to say.
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pairing: nestor oceteva x reader
fandom: mayans m.c — season 2-ish
prompt: nestor doesn’t mind being your chauffeur as long as he can spend time with you before you leave.
notes: my coco fic barely has any recognition, so i’m assuming this won’t either
—check out my other works; masterlist
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
When Miguel told Nestor that Nestor's promotion as an adviser isn't happening, it angered Nestor. Besides Marcus getting the job Nestor rightfully deserved, Nestor got demoted to being an over-glorified babysitter/chauffeur. Emily and Dita posed problems for him. Always hiding secrets from Miguel and as a result, undermining Nestor's capabilities in watching Miguel's family. In a way, dealing with them became far more exhausting than running around town with Miguel. At least then, even with the potential of being injured, there's action to keep him entertained.
For the longest time after Miguel shut him down, Nestor was bored with his job. The strong love to protect the Galindo's dwindled due to the overwhelming, annoying issues each Galindo member decided to be apart of.
That is until you came along.
The house dynamic between the Galindo members shifted. Everyone seemed happy, almost too enthusiastic over your arrival. For a short time, Miguel even halted his Agricultural Park project and cartel business to accommodate you.
Initially, Nestor isn't too thrilled about meeting you. Miguel gave him the job to protect you for the two months you'd be visiting. After all, he'd only be your chauffeur. But then, he met you and his uncaring attitude disappeared. Within a week, he genuinely enjoyed your company, far more than Emily's or Dita's. Soon enough, within a month, he became completely enamored with you. However, he knew that he couldn't necessarily entertain his affections. Not only are you Miguel's prized friend, but you're under his supervision. Oh, and you'll be leaving for New York City in just a few weeks.
Luckily, as of late, you've been needing Nestor to escort you more than usual. For once, being a chauffeur is the best thing he's ever experienced. The traces of resentment he felt toward Miguel disappeared as well.
"Hey, Nestor?" He looks up at the rear-view mirror to find you looking out the window. He hums to get your attention. "How long until we get to Miguel's?"
"About an hour and a half."
You sigh and lean your hot forehead against the cold window. Nestor keeps his eyes on you, watching your lips form into a pout. It takes him a minute to shake himself from the sight. But just as he looks away, you begin to talk again.
"Since we have so much time to kill. Tell me about yourself." Nestor remains silent. He isn't even sure if he's allowed to speak candidly to you and in all honesty, he doesn't even want to. After all, you're leaving soon. If he starts chatting, he'll get more attached. "Oh, come on! You're this elusive character. A mystery to many."
He shrugs. "There's nothing to me."
"Yeah okay." You roll your eyes. "Is this all you do? Miguelito makes you drive people around all day?"
"Only beautiful women." Fuck.
You blush prettily at his compliment. "You tell Em and Dita such pretty words."
I'm already in too deep. Might as well play with fire until I get burned. "I don't think Mikey would like me hitting on his wife and mom."
Somehow, even when you snort, he still finds it sexy. His eyes return to the road and he thanks Mother Mary that this desolate back road has no cars driving beside him. Before you can get another word in, your ringtone disrupts the relaxed atmosphere. The sigh of resignation signals to Nestor that it's your job calling. He doesn't usually eavesdrop (unless Miguel makes him listen in on Dita or Emily's conversations), so he focuses on the road once more. Besides, you began to speak a different language that is beyond his comprehension.
After what seems to be an eternity, you hand up and rub your forehead. Nestor wants to ask about your welfare or your situation, but he reminds himself that that is above his job description.
"I knew these dumbasses can't function without me." You huff angrily, tossing your phone into your purse and rub your temples. Once you get minimal relief, you look up. "Anyway, where were we? Oh yeah, you were flirting with me."
Nestor remains silent. What the fuck is Mikey gonna say?
"I would've never thought you were a charmer." You breathe out a laugh before pushing yourself to the edge of the car seat. "That's good, though. I was thinking that this is a one-sided attraction." With that, your perfectly manicured fingers dance across his gray button-down.
He jolts at the touch, looking down at your fingers. He says your name firmly before pushing your hand away. "Mikey won't like this."
"What he doesn't know won't hurt him, Nestor." You whisper, leaning even further forward to graze his ear with your teeth. He sucks in a breath and your fingers return to play the buttons. He mumbles something about not keeping secrets. "How 'bout this? We'll see where this takes us for the time being until we're secure enough to tell him."
Whatever you just said doesn't compute within Nestor's whirling mind. He nods while trying not to close his eyes at the sensation of you sucking on his earlobe. But as soon as you're fingers trail down to his slacks, his mind finally catches.
Fuck it.
Nestor pulls over behind a dune before you could do some serious damage. Once he's parked, he turns to you. "Are you sure about this?" You nod and smile which signals him to grab you by the neck and press a kiss onto your own. Miguel will have to wait for your return. Now, Nestor is taking what's rightfully his.
♦ ♦ ♦ ❛ as of right now, i no longer write for the mcu ❜ ♦ ♦ ♦
♦ for each character, posts are from oldest to newest [2017-2019]
♦ total posts: 25
♦ total word count: 21,300+
♦ key: ★ = favorite
Bucky Barnes
medieval
the lack of uniformity is comforting
Gamora
no other way ★
you would do anything for gamora, including giving up an infinity stone to protect her life.
Erik Killmonger/Stevens
stress & love
requested—life has hit you hard to the point of a mental breakdown, but erik is there to remind you that you can still pull through, oh and that he loves you.
irresistible
requested— erik is your asshole ex-boyfriend and you do your best to avoid him. however, he’s looking mighty fine in the club tonight.
this californian night ★
erik takes his time to admire your flaws
Wanda Maximoff
muse
you are at an art museum and find yourself a muse in a beautiful stranger.
M’Baku
thank you [part one], [part two] ★
two parter; you are saved by the infamous jabari warrior during the battle with killmonger and even though it’s been days, you can’t get him out of your mind.
Nebula
eye-contact
requested—nebula needs to leave before she forgets her goal.
waiting up ★
requested—you tried waiting for nebula to come back to the ship, but fell asleep.
euphoric
requested— nebula has her first kiss ever
soft
requested—you and nebula have a soft morning together.
an unusual request
requested—you have a fear of flying and ask nebula to comfort you.
leaving you
requested (2)— thanos has all the stones and it’s time for half the population to be wiped out.
Peter Quill
can’t take my eyes off of you
based off the song—peter realizes he loves you, not gamora.
Steve Rogers
renaissance
each time steve lays his eyes on your art, he falls deeper in love with you.
Natasha Romanoff
change of mind
you didn’t realize you liked women until your next door neighbor, natasha, prances around in a bikini.
Tony Stark
lorn
you’ve been in the military for 2 years, leaving tony a self-deprecating mess.
unbreak my heart
based off the song—tony took your relationship for granted and he begs for you to love him again.
Shuri Udaku
is this goodbye?
requested—you’re a guardian, meant to explore the galaxy to save lives, but saying to goodbye to shuri is not something you can do.
T’challa Udaku
silence
you just wanted to be held in t’challa’s arms but thanos has other plans.
breathtaking
wakanda is beyond beautiful, but so are you.
seconds of happiness [part one] ☐
requested—you find out you’re pregnant at the most inopportune time.
Sam Wilson
next time ★
you’ve got ptsd and it causes you to go into a shell that sam desperately wants to break. but, he’s willing to wait until you’re ready.
‘firsts’★
requested—there are many ‘firsts’ in a relationship but these by far are the best ones.
pairing: nick jakoby x human!reader
fandom: bright — after movie sequence
prompt: nick experiences the best morning of his life and happily learns he’s not only great at sex, but is wanted as your boyfriend.
notes: kind of requested by @rfitzhugh74 @every-jai @faeylinn
OH AND THANK YOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS
check out my other works; masterlist
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
For once in his life, the birds chirping in the morning didn’t particularly annoy him. He felt relaxed, albeit a little tired, but overall good, happy. As if he slept on the clouds of heaven for days before coming down to earth. And once he opened his eyes, the sunshine only brightened his mood because he knew it would be a great day.
Until he moves his arm around to grab you and feels the sheets instead. Cold, as if you’d been gone for a while. A little piece of his heart disintegrates as his stomach churns. He should’ve known not to get his hopes up. Despite you having the most wonderful soul in the entire world, he was after all an orc and not even the purest soul could get over that. So, Nick lies there trying not to scream out in frustration and self-hatred.
It’s his day off which means he can just roll over and sleep the pain away, ignore it for a few more hours until his stomach begs for food. He’s half-asleep anyway, so it wouldn’t be hard to fulfill that task. It beats agonizing over rejection.
His eyes slowly blink shut, but before he can fall asleep, he hears a thud in the bathroom down the hall. The law enforcer part of him wants to immediately jump up to scope out the noise but the lazy, dejected off-duty part of him needs to stay in bed to cope with heartache. So whoever plans to rob him can do so without any fight. Not like he has many luxuries in the place anyway.
The stranger at least is being decent enough to not make much noise.
Then his door opens, creaking ever so gently and maybe a little panic raises within him. But he remains still, back against his plush bed which soothes him just a bit.
“It’s too early in the fucking morning for you to be so damn frantic, Jules. So relax, I’ll be there in 20. Bye.” The stranger, who is not actually a stranger, whispers into the phone before shuffling around the room.
Maybe just maybe, Nick is hallucinating because there is no possible way you’d willingly stay here. Even though that’s a possibility, he can’t help but crack open his eyes to see what’s going on.
There you are, in all your beautiful glory, standing in front of his dresser mirror, topless. A little spit gets stuck into his throat and he has to will it away quietly by taking one deep gulp. You don’t seem to notice him having his struggles. Instead, you bend down to pick up your bra.
“God, Nick.” You say once you notice your bra is hanging by a mere thread in the front. “You animal.” There’s a smile on your lips and a piece of Nick’s ego swells at the scene.
Your phone rings, the obnoxiously loud default ringtone blaring through the medium sized room. Rushing toward it, cursing as you do so, you pick up the call and begin angrily murmuring into the speaker.
“For godsakes Jules, if my boyfriend wakes up because of your incompetent ass —”
Jules says something which Nick can’t hear no matter how much he tries to strain his hearing. But whatever Jules says have you blushing.
“We haven’t made it official yet but I’m hoping he asks me tonight.”
Again, Nick’s ego swells.
“I will not discuss his dick size with you.” A little more from Jules. “Let’s just say I can’t walk straight.” Now he’s blushing.
He doesn’t really listen to the rest of the conversation because he’s feeling a newfound bliss never experienced before. You want to be his girlfriend? His girlfriend? Hot damn he really hit the jackpot with you.
By the time he’s out of his little daydream filled with movie dates, stargazing, and his hands tentatively touching your body, you no longer spoke to Jules and opted to get fully dressed in clothes you packed the night before. You look about ready to leave so he makes a sound, a groan to seem as if he is just waking up. His eyes are slitted to emphasize the point.
“Y/N?” He ‘groggily’ calls out.
“Over here, Nick.” His eyes open to find you sitting beside him. “I really got to jet now if I don’t want to be late. There’s coffee already brewed and I made you a bagel. I’ll see you later, okay?”
Before he can even mutter a word, you’ve pressed a quick kiss to his lips and bolted out the room. If every morning was going to be like that, filled with kisses and pet names and breakfast, he’ll gladly make you his girlfriend.
pairing: julian devorak x prakra!reader
fandom: the arcana — after game sequence
prompt: julian doesn’t think someone as beautiful as you could ever want him
notes: slight self-deprecating thoughts with fluff
check out my other works: masterlist
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Julian waved for the umpteenth time, bowing and smiling at the rowdy crowd that cheered him off the stage. He moves to the back where his room is filled with makeup, wigs, and costumes, passing by backstage workers and volunteers who congratulate him on another successful night. Despite walking around with his usual confident flare, he’s humbled by their words and gives thanks to everyone for their hard work.
After he arrives at his room, he shuts the door and lets out a sigh once all the noise quiets. He sits at the large vanity with an enormous main mirror and grabs a makeup wipe before rubbing the cloth all over his face to rid any product. It takes about two wipes to get all the makeup off, with elbow grease put in to take out the sparkling silver glitter from his eyelids. By the time he finishes, the adrenaline high from performing has already burned out, leaving him tired but satisfied. So, he lowers his head down onto the dark brown table, relishing in the cold temperature of the wood.
A soft knock takes him out of his thoughts. It might be the manager of the night or some fan that’s interested in spending some extra time with him. It doesn’t matter because Julian can’t be bothered with either right now. He takes a deep breath and calls them in, plastering a fake grin for appearance's sake.
“Julian?” The door pushes open, revealing your silhouette, adorning a baby blue dress with lavender accents and glittering stones.
The said man feels his heart stutter and he rushes to tell you to come in suddenly feeling flustered that out of everybody, you decided to come to visit.
In the four months of you arriving from Prakra, Julian’s been smitten. The first time you asked him directions to get pumpkin bread Nahara had been raving about, he was hooked. When you asked him to talk about leeches and doctor stuff, he knew he was in love. But Julian has some demons that fuel his self-deprecation and a confident facade that he tries to hide behind. So he doesn’t pursue you, the glittering jewel of Prakra. He observes you from afar, desperately wanting but ultimately never having. Just like he deserves.
“Hi,” he breathes out, feeling overwhelmed as you close the door behind you.
“Sorry for interrupting, the bald man said you would be resting.” You smile lightly, biting your moisturized lips. “But I couldn’t resist.”
“Oh no, you’re fine! I just sit here and close my eyes a bit before going home.” Mentally berating himself, he throws a quick grin toward you to appear less nervous. Which he knows he’s failing at since his sweat levels increased at the sign of you, making the white button-down cling to his skin.
“Do you get to keep the wigs?”
“What?” At that moment, brunet bangs fall into his eyes and Julian quickly wrenches off the wig with the clips and hair cap still attached, ripping at his real hair before tossing it on the vanity. Tears begin to prick at his eyes.
But it doesn’t matter because he hears you giggling and it sounds like bells chiming.
“I rather like you as a brunet. it somehow changes the color of your eyes,” you say as you move closer to the vanity, leaning over the table to look at various lipsticks. You’re a bit preoccupied so you can’t tell he’s blushing. Even if he did, he’ll pass it off as an aftereffect of being underneath all those bright lights on stage.
He doesn’t reply which allows you to continue. “I have the night off and thought I would explore a bit. Then Portia informed me of you being the star in tonight’s play, I simply couldn’t resist.”
Your shining eyes finally look away from the lip products and meet his eyes, cool gray ones clashing against your own. “Why is that?” He coughs out and tries to smirk after but it comes out as a grimace.
Straightening up, you easily walk toward him and pass a bouquet to him that he now noticed. Yellow acacias and blue violets contrasted beautifully against the white gardenia flowers. You pass them to him with a delicate and nervous smile.
“Why?” he breathes out, shakily grabbing the beautiful bouquet while his heart swells at the thought. Never in his life had someone given him flowers and it’s something he never thought he would genuinely want. But here he is practically vibrating in warmth.
You shrug, stepping closer to him. “I just adore you.”
A shudder shoots through his body, causing him to stare at you open-mouthed and wide-eyed. “I uh, oh my,” He stutters out, trying to articulate his adoration for you but he sounds like a broken record especially when you begin softly tugging him toward you.
Carefully removing the flowers from his tight hold, you whisper “shh,” before closing the gap.
Julian is shaking as you easily slide your tongue into his mouth, twisting and twirling around to mingle with his own. A loud, quaking moan spills out of the redhead and he feels his skin get even hotter. He’s grasping your shoulders as if he’s about to pull away. But he doesn’t, he never does. Your the one to break the embrace, your shimmering pink lipgloss all over your mouth and Julian’s pretty sure his lips are just as messy and swollen.
You’re staring at him with such intensity that he can’t help but feel as if you do want him. Despite him being Julian Devorak, certified leech doctor and fuck up extraordinaire.
“I love you,” The words spill out of his lips before he can catch them. But when he sees a bright smile stretch out across your face, he doesn’t regret his word vomit.
“I know,” You blush, a delightful warm hue dancing across your cheeks. He laughs jovially before hugging you and spinning your body around as he jumps for joy. He ignores your false scolding and protests because the tinkling of your laugh seems to heighten his happiness.
And for once, Julian feels like he deserves to be happy. He’s finally got a reason for it.
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pairing: michael emerson x vampire!reader
fandom: the lost boys — post-movie
anon request: lost boys imagine with Michael falling in love with another vampire?
notes: finally, i’ve done a request. let’s give me a round of applause.
—check out my other works; masterlist
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“I can’t…” Michael trails off, breath hitching as you peppered kisses on his bare chest before swirling your tongue over his erect nipple.
After the whole David and Max situation, Michael thought he would be done with vampires. They did nothing but bring death and danger to his doorstep. He promised himself that he would never bring harm to his family again. And yet, here he is, purposefully interacting with a vampire passed platonic familiarity. Intentionally putting him in a position to be dominated by you.
If anyone caught a whiff of his nightly endeavors, there is no doubt in his mind that the Frog Brothers would track you down. They’re more experienced now and much more thirsty to kill any bloodsucking creature of the night.
And despite promising to never get involved, Michael knows deep down in his heart that you’re the one. Once upon a time, he thought Star was that girl. However after the initial shock of becoming human went away, he didn’t click with Star anymore. There was no danger binding them together. It seemed as if their relationship only thrived based on the vampire blood pumping through them and the need to destroy David being a priority. Without those two similarities, Michael knew they wouldn’t last.
So now he’s with someone he has numerous things in common with, who happens to be a vampire. While his brain tells him to get the fuck out, his heart manages to persuade him to stay. To be used by you until you’re absolutely satisfied. And if there’s one thing Michael knows about you is that you are never satisfied.
You let go of his nipple with a sloppy, wet ‘pop’ emitting and echoing in your lair. “You can’t…what? Michael, what can’t you do?” You crawl up to meet his eyes and push a hand into his soft, fluffy hair.
“I can’t,” He’s trying to catch his breath and it amuses you because he’s putty in your hands even before you’ve actually touched him. “This.” It’s breathy and unsure.
Tugging his hair to one side, you lean into his ear, pressing a delicate kiss to his neck. “I can stop, but you have to tell me.”
He’s quiet as you press more kisses to his neck and you feel his member jump excitedly. But his lack of verbal response is irking you so you begin to suck and bite on his neck, making sure to leave marks.
“Tell me, Michael.” You remove your lips from his neck and back away, hands trailing his chest before crossing over your chest.
But as soon as you do so, his right-hand latches on your arms. “Comeback.”
You roll your eyes. “I won’t have you second-guessing me anymore, Michael.”
He sits up, pulling you into his chest. “No more second-guessing.”
With an eyebrow raised and uncrossed arms, you grab the necklace that adorns your name on it and pulls him to you. Faces close, lips barely brushing, you whisper, “Last chance.”
“I want this. I want you.” A smile adorns your lips before you press them to his red, swollen ones.
Michael knows he shouldn’t be with you, but he can’t help it. He loves you and he knows you’re the one he wants to be with. But he’ll keep you a secret for a while until he can ease you into a conversation with his family.
pairing: donny donowitz x reader
fandom: inglourious basterds
anon request: Can you do a fluffy fanfic with Donny donowitz please? Maybe a jealous/overprotective Donny? The world would be a better place if we had a tad more Inglourious Basterds 💕✨ (RE: during the war pls) (fem reader, fem pronouns, already in a relationship)
notes: pretty short, but cute, i also had no idea what to title this
—check out my other works; masterlist
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
By the time the Basterds come back to your quaint, little apartment—their makeshift headquarters—it’s midnight. Although they were trained in the art of stealth, as soon as they reached your home where it’s safe, they became of animals stomping around, throwing things—basically making as much noise as possible. They were safe there, they didn’t need to be careful.
Usually, you would be up, scolding them for their carelessness. They took it in stride. Stiglitz would give you a small bottle of alcohol, Ulvitch would smile, Aldo kissed your cheek, and Donny smothered you in attention.
But right now, you’re too damn tired to even think about getting up from your warm, cozy bed. Even when you heard Ulvitch asking for you, you remained in bed, half awake and half asleep.
About an hour or so later, Donny tries to quietly enter your room. Despite all the training, you would think he learned how to navigate around a dark, open area without tripping over himself. You think he missed that lesson because here he is, stumbling around and swearing like a sailor when he bumps into the closet cabinet.
You take pity and call out. “Over here, baby.”
A sigh of relief and a few steady footfalls after, Donny is sliding underneath the covers, pulling you against his chest once he gets comfortable. He places a kiss on your bare shoulder.
“Didn’t mean to wake ya up, doll.”
“It’s okay,” You yawn and ask him about his day. He can tell you’re a bit delirious and opts out of telling you everything that happened. You’ll find out about his knife wound tomorrow.
“Did A’chie keep you safe?”
The distaste Donny has for the Englishman is quite apparent. Ever since he met Archie, there’s been this sort of unspoken rivalry—especially since it’s one-sided only on Donny’s part. He thinks Archie will whisk you away after he charms you with his ‘pretty sentences and English mustache’ and you’ll live in London where it rains all day instead of beautiful Boston.
“He was the perfect gentleman. Not only did he keep me safe, but he kept me warm—”
Without a second thought, Donny releases you from his grip and scrambles to put clothes on. He’s swearing again, muttering about how no one will miss Archie and comparing him to some poor Yankee fan Donny had a scuffle with three years ago. A little tired giggle escapes before you can contain it before it becomes a string of soft laughter. Donny, who is barely off the bed with only boxers on, huffs in feign annoyance.
“You goin’ be the death of me, you know that?” Another giggle and Donny crawls back over to you, again pulling you into his arms. “Please tell me he didn’t make a move on you.”
You shake your head, playing with his fingers. “He threw a tantrum after I made a comment about some beloved movie of his. The funny part is, I never even seen it.”
“That’s my girl.”
You hum, wiggling yourself to get closer to him. His little member jumps in excitement and tired laugh emit from your lips. “I’m dog tired, Don.”
His grip tightens and you could practically feel the mischief exuding off of him. “I’ll do all the work.”
Again, you laugh but it's cut off by a yawn.
Another kiss to the shoulder. “Tomorrow, yeah?” You hum in agreement.
Feeling warmer now, you slip into a deep, peaceful sleep. Donny waits for your breaths to even out before smiling. Now, he feels safe.
pairing: beric dondarrion x reader
fandom: game of thrones—season 8
requested: @lilithness — you’ve been a part of the brotherhood ever since beric took you in. he’s taught you a lot about fighting, companionship, religion, and love. it makes saying goodbye even harder.
notes: this was requested eons ago, i apologize for the wait and the suckiness of this fic but i wanted to do it about season 8 since episode 2 gave me inspiration. sorry if you don’t like it.
—check out my other works; masterlist
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
By daylight, the war against the dead would be in full swing. The Night King and his overwhelming army would storm Winterfell, attempting to kill and turn anything in its path. Friends, family, neighbors, and strangers would fight to the death to protect their home in the North—to protect Brandon Stark from being murdered by the Night King.
With a few hours left, many of the people you’ve met and grown close to over the years simply milled around; getting ready for battle but still enjoying moments with friends and loved ones in between. You’ve made your peace with those you might lose. Arya, Gendry, Sandor, and a few others experienced their last moments with you because despite having some shred of hope of surviving, everyone knew it might be their last hours ever breathing.
They were hard to say goodbye, there’s no doubt about that. Each and every one of them had some part in your upbringing. You’ve learned from them and thrived because of their lessons, no matter how short your initial time with them lasted.
However, no person would ever amount to Lord Beric Dondarrion.
From the very beginning, when he found you shivering in the rain sporting a baggy tunic, varied sizes of wounds, and covered in heavy amounts of blood too much to be just your own—Beric treated you with respect a Knight/warrior only has. He took you in, treated your wounds, gave you shelter, food, company, and eventual warmth in your bed. Everything he’s done for you taught you were not in vain. Everything he’s said has been taken into account and pushed you to thrive into the fearsome woman you are today.
It only makes saying goodbye harder.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Winter air puffed around your breath, making small clouds when you breathed. You felt a chill climb throughout your body, causing you to shiver and have the urge to go inside where Tyrion Lannister invited you inside for warmth and a drink. However, you decided against the much-welcomed opportunity. One of the wildings, the ginger, stated the dead could come at any moment as long as its before sunlight. Which means you needed to be focused, guarding the outside towers. Besides, the little fire from the flame pits scattering the top level of the towers keeps you somewhat warm.
“You’re cold,” The richness of his voice sends a layer of warmth through you. “Here.”
You turn to see Beric walking toward you, a large flimsy flask of wine in his hand. Once he reaches you, he opens the flask lid and pushes it to your lips. A gloved hand holds his bare one as the liquid smoothly passes through your throat. Indeed, it’s helped you warm up a bit.
“Thank you,”
Beric closes the lid and places it onto a random barrel before kissing your cheek. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” He stares at you, letting silence fill the air. Of course, within seconds you crack. You grab onto his hands, staring straight into his eyes. “I’m afraid.”
“Death is nothing to be frightened of. It is a necessary step into the next life.”
Annoyance bubbles within you. “Usually, I listen to your rants about the Lord without complaints but this is no time for blind optimism. I’m not afraid of death itself because I know it’s inevitable. The fear is turning into a White Walker, but above all else, the fear comes with the knowledge that this is your last hurrah.”
You’re panting since you barely took a breath through all that. After a deep breath, you continue. “You’ve died six times and returned to me all those time. Beric, this seventh death will be your last. That completely terrifies me.”
“That is true.”
There is a part of you that wants to strangle him because you’ve always been the more emotional one in this relationship. Not one could you be the rational one since Beric is the epitome of being calm, cool, and collected. You want him, for once, to be something besides being zen.
“The Lord has agreed that the next death is final. I’ve done my duty, fulfilled everything the Lord wants of me.” Beric squeezes your hands, taking on of his own to caress your cheek. “It is only now that I realized that the Lord has saved me countless time were not to fight great battles of life alone. He saved me to find you, to continue living for you and eventually die by your side.”
Your Beric has always been stoic in a sense. Not as romantically inclined as Gendry is to Arya, but enough to keep you satisfied. He’s rough around the edges, never saying anything sappy. So to hear him say such words had you reeling and on the verge of tears.
“From now, to the very last moment of your breath, I will be beside you—just as the Lord willed it to be.”
He pulls you into a kiss after he speaks, silencing your sadness for a brief moment and pouring all his pent up love into his actions. The tightening on your waist leads you to grasp on his shoulders, using it as leverage to keep your knees from failing.
You push him off a little, looking at him with conviction. “I love you, Lord Beric Dondarrion. I will to my very last breath.”
Just as he’s about to speak, the horns are heard throughout Winterfell.
