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joelsgreys · 5 months

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safe and sound

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Your daughter has a nightmare—her daddy makes it all better.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. set in Jackson. slight canon age deviations (Joel is 56, Ellie is 17) READER’S AGE IS NOT SPECIFIED. she’s a child bearing adult woman so do with that information what you will. established relationship, reader and Joel have a toddler (her age is not specified in fic but she’s 3 ish years old), reader has NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION and neither does their child except she has Joel’s eyes and his dark curls, no mentions of her skintone. Joel and Ellie are fine bc he deserves it, Joel’s an overprotective girl dad, reader is the chill parent. implications of a toddler being told about clickers, bad dreams, almost smut, Joel and reader get cockblocked, SOFT Joel who comforts his babygirl, mention of Sarah towards the end. very minimal editing.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: listen, i love me some daddy joel but tonight i needed a bit of actual daddy joel. this was whipped up last minute bc i haven’t had the best weekend and needed some comfort. also i didn’t have the mental capacity or energy to come up with a moodboard, so gif it is.

Joel looks down at the old, worn book in his hand.

Winnie the Pooh.

He never would have imagined it. This.

Reading a bedtime story to a toddler. His toddler.

He’s in his fifties—he shouldn’t have a toddler.

He shouldn’t have a teenager, either.

Yet, he has both.

The toddler has his blood, the teenager doesn’t.

But that doesn’t matter to him.

Joel still considers her to be his own kid.

Only, she’s not a kid anymore, not really.

She’s seventeen now. She doesn’t need him much anymore, not the way that his toddler needs him.

“Ellie’s not coming home tonight,” you’d said from where you stood at the stove, stirring in chunks of potato and chopped carrots into the pot of stew in front of you. “There’s a birthday party down at the bar. She’s going with Dina and Jesse.” You can feel the look of disapproval on his face and add, “I said she could go, Joel. She asked me permission.”

“She didn’t ask me,” he’d gruffed. He looked down at the little girl sitting in his lap, scribbling away on an old state map. He had given it to her along with the pack of crayons he’d found during patrol when his group stumbled across a schoolhouse. Though crumbling on the outside, the inside had remained untouched throughout the last two decades—little coats hanging over the back of little chairs, papers scattered all over little desks, little lunch boxes still stored in their cubbies at the back of the room. He instructed the group to search for anything useful, anything that Jackson’s teachers could use for the children in their classrooms. Joel knew that taking without trading was against the rules, but that did nothing to stop him from secretly slipping the box of crayons into his jacket pocket when no one had been looking.

His daughter’s squeals of delight when he’d gifted them to her had been well worth the theft.

“Because she knew you’d say no to her.”

“I would have. Kid’s got no business going to a bar at her age. She’s fuckin’ seventeen years ol—”

The little girl had gasped and stopped coloring.

“Daddy said a bad word.”

You’d turned around and glared at him. “He did.”

She looked up at him with her wide, brown eyes.

Those she’d gotten from him. His dark curls too.

Everything else?

Her smile, her nose, her softness?

That was all you.

“M’sorry, babygirl,” he apologized, sheepishly.

“S’okay, daddy.”

And back to coloring she went.

“Joel, let’s face it. Ellie’s growing up. She’s turning eighteen in a few months and truth is, she has one foot out the door.” Crossing your arms, you leaned back against the counter. “She was telling me how she wants to turn the garage into her own space.”

“There a reason she ain’t talkin’ to me ‘bout this?”

You’d smiled wistfully at him.

“Because she knows this is hard for you, Joel.”

It is hard. Because even though she isn’t his, she’s his and he’s afraid to lose her somehow.

Joel manages to snap himself out of his thoughts.

Rosemary’s now fast asleep, her well loved stuffed bunny rabbit wrapped in her arms. She’s a handful for him during bedtime—she has too much energy and most nights, you have to step in and help him. But tonight, after her bath, he had warmed a glass of milk for her to drink and it seemed to have done the trick because within minutes of him reading to her, her eyes fluttered closed.

Joel sets the book down and leans over to brush a kiss onto her cheek, quietly whispering goodnight. “Sweet dreams, babygirl.”

He switches off the lamp on the bedside table and steps out of his child’s bedroom, being careful not to wake her as he closes the door behind him.

“I still can’t believe she fell asleep within minutes,” you say, staring at him in utter disbelief. “How?”

“Gave her a glass of warm milk before I tucked her into bed,” Joel explains, tugging on a pair of faded black sweatpants. He peels off his shirt and tosses it onto the floor before climbing into bed. “Worked like a fuckin’ charm. She’s out like a damn light.”

You set your book down and raise an eyebrow.

“Joel, I brushed her teeth before her bath.”

“I brushed them again after she drank it, darlin’.”

He outstretches his arm, beckoning for you.

Grinning, you scoot closer to him, draping an arm over his bare chest. “It’s only nine,” you tell him. “I have no idea what we’re going to do with all of this free time we have. Rosemary’s asleep, Ellie’s gone for the night.” You slowly drag your hand down his chest and over his stomach, a finger skimming the waistband of his sweatpants. You hear the way his breath catches in his throat and tease, “I guess we can actually get some good sleep for once, huh?”

Groaning, Joel rolls over and pins you down to the bed as he positions himself on top of you, his eyes glazed over with lust. “We can sleep,” he murmurs as his mouth hovers over yours. He reaches for the buttons of his flannel you’re wearing and begins to single-handedly pop them open only to find you’re not wearing anything underneath. He groans once more. “Or I can make you feel good. S’your choice, baby.”

You gasp as he nips at your chin and starts trailing his lips lower, peppering kisses down the length of your body. Heat blossoms in your lower belly as he settles himself between your thighs. Hooking both arms around them, he nibbles at the soft spot that is right below your navel, the spot you hate, but he adores. Having a child had changed your body and while you two seldom had time to yourselves to do anything of this nature, when you did find time, he never failed to make you feel like you were still just as beautiful to him, if not a thousand times more.

“Fuck,” you whimper. “Please, Joel.”

“Please what, sweetheart? What do you want?”

His voice is low, husky.

Your hands reach down and tangle in his curls.

“Your mouth, Joel. Please. I need your—”

The sound of a teeny knock at the door makes you both freeze on the spot.

“You heard that, right?” you ask him breathlessly.

There’s a second teeny knock.

It’s then followed by an even teenier voice.

“Mommy? Daddy?”

“Fuck,” Joel hisses, scrambling off the bed. “What the hell is she doin’ out of bed?” Picking his t-shirt up from the floor, he quickly throws it on, ignoring that he’d put it on inside out. Watching you as you fumble to button his flannel, he calls, “Just give us one second babygirl, alright? We’ll be right there.��

“I’m decent,” you tell him, getting the last button.

Nodding, Joel opens the bedroom door. His knees protest when he squats down, lowering himself so that he can meet Rosemary’s tearful gaze.

“S’matter, Rosie Posie?” he asks her in a soft voice that he reserves for his girls. “What happened?”

She sniffles. “I—I had a bad dream, daddy.”

You sit on the side of bed and wait patiently.

Joel has it handled. He always has it handled.

He never stopped knowing how to be a father.

“You had a bad dream?” he repeats, frowning.

Rosemary nods, clutching her rabbit to her chest.

A single tear slips down the side of her little face.

Joel reaches out, gingerly wiping it with his finger.

“M’sorry it scared you, babygirl. Tell you what, just for tonight, how about you sleep with me and your mama in our bed? That sound good?” With a small labored grunt, he scoops her into his arms. She is getting heavier and you often tell him it’s not good for his back—he can’t care less. He’ll keep picking her up until the moment his little girl decides she’s a big girl and doesn’t want him to pick her up. Joel carries her over to the bed and sits her on your lap and reminds her, “But this is just for tonight, Rosie Posie. Tomorrow night you’re back in your own big girl bed, alright?”

“Okay,” she nods again and leans against you, tiny shoulders slumping.

“Rosie? What was your dream about?” you ask her gently, wrapping your arms around her. She hardly ever has nightmares—she’s too young to know the world outside the commune’s walls, smart but still too little to understand why she cannot go outside the gates. “What did you dream about, honey?”

She hesitates, then answers, “Monsters.”

“Monsters?” Perplexed, you glance at Joel.

He seems to be just as confused as you are.

“Who did you hear that word from, babygirl?”

“Robbie.”

Your neighbor’s unruly, troublemaker son.

Joel’s jaw clenches slightly. “Thought I told you he ain’t allowed to be around her. The kid is nine, ain’t got no business bein’ around Rosemary. Little brat ain’t nothin’ but a bad influence. He’s always up to no good.” He shakes his head at you. “Said I didn’t want that boy anywhere near our daughter.”

“The kids were out playing in the snow today,” you remember. “He must have been there too. It’s kind of hard to tell who is who when they’re all bundled up and flinging snowballs at each other, Joel.” You shoot him an apologetic look. “Rosie was having a blast playing with everybody—I’m sorry. I suppose I should’ve paid more attention to who was around her.”

He bites back a sigh. He knows it’s not your fault.

Rosie’s too good of a girl, too pure and innocent to know that not everybody is her friend.

“Rosie, what did Robbie say to you?”

Again, the child hesitates.

“He said—he said monsters live outside. They bite people and turn them into monsters too. He said it happened to his daddy.” Rosemary’s eyes flit from you to Joel. “He said it would happen to you, too.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “He said that to you?”

Hands curling into fists, Joel reminds himself now isn’t the time to let his anger take over. “S’not true at all, babygirl.” He reaches over and slides her out of your lap and onto his. Like you, he wants to lie—tell her those monsters she was told about are not real, that they don’t exist. But they do exist and as much as he wishes he could keep her from finding out about all that lies beyond Jackson’s walls, Joel knows that one day, she will. “Listen to me. M’real sorry to hear ‘bout Robbie’s daddy, baby. But I can promise you, that ain’t gonna happen to me.”

She points a chubby finger at you.

“What about mommy?”

“Ain’t gonna happen to her either.”

Rosemary drops her hand, fear clear in her tone as she asks the both of you, “What about me?”

“Of course not,” you say, smoothing back her dark curls. “You’re safe here, honey. As safe as can be.”

Joel nods. “Your mama’s right, darlin’. You’re safe,” he reassured her. “You’re safe and sound.”

“I am?”

He gives her body a warm, gentle squeeze. “Mhm. Always will be. Y’know how I know that, babygirl?”

“How?”

“‘Cause. As long as daddy’s around, he will always protect you,” he promises her. “He’ll never, ever let anythin’ bad happen to you, Rosie. I swear it.” Joel kisses the top of her head, his gaze meeting yours. He murmurs his oath quietly, “On my life.”

Flashing him a small, grateful smile, you reach out and touch his forearm and he places his hand over your own.

“And mommy too?” Rosemary questions him.

“And mommy too.”

“And Ellie?”

“And Ellie,” he nods, firmly. “M’always gonna keep my girls safe. S’long as I’m around, you’re all safe.”

Rosie tiredly snuggles into his chest, yawning.

“What about you, daddy?”

“Huh?”

You squeeze his arm. “Think she’s asking you who is supposed to keep you safe, Joel.”

The little girl nods sleepily. “Yeah. Who?”

“Well.” Joel’s throat bobs nervously. He knows the moment he says what he’s about to say, there’s no going back. Not that he never planned to tell Rosie about her sister, but he’d always imagined doing it when she was older and understood death. “I—uh, I have an angel in the clouds who looks out for me. She watches over me, keeps me safe and sound.”

Rosemary’s curiosity is all that is keeping her from completely passing out in his arms.

“Really? You have an angel?”

Your heart squeezes tightly in your chest. “Joel—”

He lightly shakes his head.

“S’fine sweetheart. I don’t mind tellin’ her.”

Rosie’s fighting to stay awake just a little longer.

“Daddy? What’s your angel’s name?”

Joel answers in the steadiest voice he can muster.

“Her name was—her name is Sarah.”

“Sarah,” she mumbles, her eyes closing. “S’pretty. Your angel has a really pretty name.”

“The prettiest name,” you agree, softly.

Rosie yawns again. “Daddy?”

“What is it, babygirl?”

“Will you tell me stories about Sarah? Please?”

Joel chuckles, rubbing her back. “I sure will. I have plenty of them to tell, Rosie Posie. But not tonight. I’ll save them for tomorrow ni—”

You cut him off “Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s out cold.”

He glances down and sure enough, she’s asleep.

Moments later, the three of you are in bed. Rosie’s in the middle, curled up against Joel’s chest—your chest is pressed against her back but you’re being careful not to sandwich her in too tight in between your bodies.

In a beam of silvery moonlight shining through the bedroom window, you meet Joel’s gaze.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He chuckles. “For what? Doin’ my job and soothin’ our daughter after a bad dream?”

You smile at him.

“For being so good to her. To me and Ellie.” Lifting a hand, you reach over and cup the side of his face in your palm. “You’re so good to all three of us and I can’t even imagine what we’d do without you.”

Joel turns his face, brushing a kiss into your hand.

“I mean it,” he says, quietly. “S’long as I’m around, you girls will always be safe and sound.”

credit divider @saradika-graphics

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #fic: safe and sound

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charliemwrites · 5 months

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Part 5 of Obsessive!johnny

(CW: extremely dubious consent; I’d go so far as to say straight non-con. No violence. Please be safe, beans! 💕)

It’s your own fault - or no. That’s a dangerous way of thinking it not your fault. But you got complacent. Got desensitized to that looming sense of danger, the threat hiding in the shadow of his eyes. That little voice in the back of your head became background noise, not the guide it used to be.

All it took was a slip of your carefully crafted mask understanding Johnny’s “love” for you. Just one careless comment, a tone too honest.

You don’t even remember what you said now. Just that the feverish light in his eyes changed instantly. Like a shift in sunlight through colored glass. What frightened you was how his expression changed, shut down hard. His jaw tensing, brows going deceptively smooth.

“Is all this not enough for you?” he asks, taking big, measured steps towards you.

You start backing up, heart tripping over itself. “That’s not-“

“How many ways do you need me to prove it, hm?” he asks. “I’ve apologized a hundred times, bonnie, haven’t I? Is that not enough for you? I’m still not worth it to you?”

You put your hands up, all your carefully crafted and scripted responses fleeing in the face of this new, unfamiliar Johnny. He’s - he’s angry at you. Not because of you, or for you, but at you.

“I’ve been patient, haven’t I?” he continues, low voice wavering with something frightening. “Do you know how hard it is, seeing you cry for a life that wasn’t good enough for you? Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been trying?”

You swallow thickly, try to rally your scrambled thoughts. He just working himself up more and more and that voice that fell so quiet is screaming now. So loud it’s hard to make your mouth work.

“I-I know. I’m sorry,” you manage. “Im just… I lost my temper and said something I didn’t mean…”

His eyes narrow. “Oh, no, hen. I think you meant it.”

He up close to you now, barely a centimeter of space between your bodies. The heat of him is suffocating. You’ve never been so aware of how much bigger than you he is. It thrilled you when he’d loom over you at the bar, cocky confidence and easy smiles.

You meet his eyes.

And for a moment, he softens. You have the briefest golden flicker of hope.

And then he sighs. Deep and resigned. Your stomach flips.

“It’s my fault,” he mutters finally, shaking his head. “Haven’t been treating you right, have I?”

You don’t dare answer.

“Treating you like you’re one thing when you’re really everything.”

You open your mouth, try to speak, to reason with him. He just shushes you with a hand on your cheek, thumb pressing your lips closed.

“Always spoiling you like the princess you are, when sometimes you need to be treated like a slut.”

He jerk’s you around and shoves you onto the bed, plants a big hand between your shoulder blades and presses.

“Soap!”

“Hush up, baby, it’s alright. You don’t have to pretend to be all prim and proper,” he soothes, knocking your feet apart. “I don’t think any less of you for needing cock. Only natural.”

Your underwear rips like wet paper, accompanied by your high-pitched squeal of alarm. He makes a low, rough noise. Pure, animal lust. The fabric of his pants chafes against the backs of your thighs.

“Oh, there she is,” he purrs, “just like I thought.”

You cry out as rough fingers drag through your slit, gathering the slick you can’t believe is leaking from you.

“I’ve been so bad to you, bonnie, not treating you the way you need. No wonder you got all fussy and snappy.” The hazy thought that he might not he talking to you at all anymore burns through you. When you shift, trying to close your legs self-consciously, a sharp slap to your clit collapses your knees.

“We’re gonna set you right, babygirl,” he growls. “Won’t be able to worry your pretty little head anymore.”

He plunges two fingers into you without preamble. The stretch is vicious, but it doesn’t hurt. Not really. You’re too wet. Still, you scream - because Johnny’s spent so many hours playing with you, learning you, that he knows exactly where to press and curl and rub his fingers.

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, tears already collecting in your eyes because he’s being mean about it, twisting to grind his thumb against your clit. It’s too much, you’re not ready no matter what your body says. “Soap, don’t- ngh!”

“Gonna show you why you’re better off here. Right here. Gonna give this pretty cunt what it needs.”

The third finger is a stretch. You try to get away, try to crawl onto the bed to run, but he stomps a boot onto the chain around your ankle and flattens you to the mattress.

“Keep pretending if you want, baby,” he murmurs, “I know what you really need now.”

He’s withdrawing his fingers while you’re still pleading and babbling. You’re horrified to realize you don’t know if you want them back. It doesn’t matter though. Because Johnny’s cock is splitting you open before you can decide, thicker and longer than you’ve ever taken. He curses and groans as he pushes into you, inch by hot inch. Until you feel the fat leaking head tap at your cervix and he grinds, balls kissing your clit.

“T-too much!” you sob. “‘S too much!! Johnny, Johnny, please!”

Heat floods you as he shudders, hips jerking hard and rough. By your head, his fist is white-knuckled in the sheets.

“Did… did you just…?”

“Say my name again,” he snarls.

You blink wetly. “W-wha…?”

“Say. It. Again.” Each word punctuated by a brutal thrust. Something drips down your thigh.

“J-Johnny,” you keen, trying to beg for mercy.

“Jus’ like that.” He’s still hard. Still so fucking hard it’s like you’ve been edging him for hours. Like he didn’t just flood your poor pussy with cum.

“Been dreaming of you saying my name. Haven’t all this time,” he pants, rocking into you hard and fast. Any semblance of restraint is long gone. “Now I know why. Finally fuckin’ earned it. Gonna keep earnin’ it from now on.”

He fucks you so hard the bed leaves dents in the wall. Forces a hand beneath your pelvis to pinch your clit between two fingers and hurtles you shrieking into an orgasm. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause for a single beat. Just hitches your knee up onto the mattress and somehow fucks into your harder, faster, deeper. His fingers rub cruel circles into your oversensitive clit and you burn.

“No, no, wait, Johnny- ah! No, I’m gonna - it feels like-”

Wet heat gushes from you, spilling down your thighs, all over the bed and floor. You - you -

“Fuck, you squirted everywhere, good fuckin’ girl, princess.” He slows just a bit, presumably to appreciate the mess you’ve made. You’re too far gone on shock and awful pleasure to do more than sniffle and hiccup pathetically.

And then a death sentence.

“Do it again.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #obsessive johnny

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teapartyprincess4two · 2 months

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Can i ask for a johnnie guilbert x reader where the reader is a friend of tara who is a very private person, so she gets know in the channel as "baby" and people start to notice that johnnie gets shy and is always looking somewhere off camera (to her)

A LOTTTT of pinning by johnnie (like so much it hurts)

And maybe at the end he confesses she kisses him and a lil sum-sum 😏

Thank uuuuu 😘

Babygirl- J. Guilbert

pairing: shy!reader x Johnnie

classification: fluff

warning: use of y/n, slight cursing, slow build up, Jake and Tara are dating in this, suggestive content but NO smut, very long

inspiration: request^^, Deaf, Mute, and Blind Baking, Becoming Tara Yummy for a Day

summary: You didn’t choose a life in the limelight, you were just famous by association, and now you’ve earned yourself the nickname “babygirl” by the entire internet.

—

Most people wish they had the fame you had, they spend their entire life reaching for an unattainable dream that fell in your lap by coincidence. They wish for the fancy cars, the expensive clothes, and especially to be so famous they’re stopped by fans on the street for a picture.

Tara, your best friend, was one of those people. She spent her childhood and teenage years fangirling over pop stars and YouTubers, hoping that one day people would be fangirling over her too. She worked hard to earn the platform she has today, bringing you along with her to the top. But you never asked for any of this.

At first her newfound fame didn’t affect you, you were just a recurring background character in her videos and would sometimes, but very rarely, have a main role in them. Although you tried remaining in the background, the internet is quick to get attached to shy, background characters and before you knew it the fans were begging for more content with you.

So now you and Tara are a well known YouTube duo and you’re featured in almost every one of her videos, most of the time opting to participate from behind the camera. You especially remain behind the scenes when Jake and Johnnie are involved, specifically because you’re never able to hide your crush on Johnnie and would probably die from embarrassment if the fans caught on.

Like today for example, Jake and Johnnie are over at your house filming. They’re filming a video they’ve filmed many times before, they’re turning Tara emo. The three of them are piled onto the couch, discussing topic after topic as Johnnie packs on black eyeshadow on Tara’s eyes.

“Ow, Johnnie. You’re hurting me!” she squeals as Johnnie accidentally pokes her in the eye with the bristles of the brush. You can’t help but giggle from behind the camera, watching as Johnnie becomes flustered. “Sorry! I only ever do my own makeup, okay?” he apologizes, not becoming any more gentle with his motions. Johnnie glances at you quickly, a smile forming on his face because of your laughter.

“Why are you laughing, Y/n? You’re next,” Jake chimes in, following his statement with a boisterous laugh. Your face flushes slightly as you reply with a laugh, “no I’d prefer not to be tortured.” Johnnie laughs at this, sending you a fake pout, “you hate my look that much?”

Your face becomes even more red, if that was even possible. You didn’t mean the comment like that. Tara, whose face is being attacked with makeup, chimes in, “No, Y/n is too babygirl for this.”

“Oh God, you’re making me sound so high maintenance,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at Tara’s comment. “It’s true though!” she exclaims, turning to face you just as Johnnie begins applying eyeliner, causing a black streak to run from the corner of her eye to her hairline.

“Guys, Y/n is probably the most high maintenance out of the four of us. She gets a manicure exactly every two weeks, she gets her hair redyed like once a month, her room is NEVER dirty. She almost never ever has dirty laundry, AND she irons her clothes. Who irons their clothes?” Tara exclaims, flailing her arms in the air dramatically.

“So yes, she’s babygirl,” Tara’s talking to the camera now, completely oblivious to her appearance. You scrunch your name at the nickname, the internet tended to latch onto things like that, “First of all, you look ridiculous right now. And secondly, don’t call me that. I don’t need to be known as ‘babygirl’ for the rest of my life,” you reply, laughing as Johnnie tries to fix his mistake but fails.

Jake, who’s sitting on the couch next to Johnnie, straightens up and leans forward to look at Tara. He immediately laughs at the sight, the black eyeliner smudged all over her face. “You’re just mad that it has a nice ring to it,” Tara retorts, choosing to ignore the mess Johnnie made. You scoff, glad that the camera isn’t on you to catch how your eyes train on Johnnie.

“Okay, but doesn’t it sound cute?” Tara proposes the question to the boys, waiting expectantly for them to answer. Jake was always quick to agree with her, it was a trait she trained him to have over the years of their relationship, “yeah, it’s pretty cute.” Tara nods her head in triumph, turning to Johnnie for his response.

Johnnie doesn’t know what to say, he agrees that the nickname is cute, but he’s afraid he’ll say too much and expose his crush for you. “Johnnie?” Tara says, widening her eyes as she awaits his response.

“What was the nickname again?” Johnnie asks, trying to act casual. But if the cameras zoomed in they’d easily catch how his hands tremble as he fixes Tara’s eyeliner. “Babygirl?” he reiterates, attempting to sound confused and oblivious. Tara nods her head, causing Johnnie to mess up once again, but he’s too busy trying to keep his composure to care.

Coming from him the nickname doesn’t sound so bad, it actually makes you want to take back everything you just said. “Babygirl is cute,” he murmurs, sending you a small glance before quickly turning back towards Tara. You hide your face in your hands, trying to hide your flushed cheeks and the smile that won’t go away no matter how hard you try.

“Enough with the babygirl talk,” you groan, but you really loved hearing him say it.

—

From that moment on, you were known as babygirl within the fandom. You couldn’t escape the nickname no matter how hard you tried, and the fans loved teasing you about it. Whether it be through edits, Instagram comments, or tweets; the fans were always calling you the nickname.

Johnnie, Jake and Tara are currently filming yet another video, despite your protests. The three of them are standing behind the kitchen counter, with either tape on their mouths, earmuffs on, or blindfolded. They were trying to bake a cake, something they struggled to do even without the inhibiting factors, so all they were really doing was making a big mess.

They understand your hesitance with being on camera, so they never force you to make any special appearances, but you still loved to watch. You sit behind the counter, just out of view of the camera, watching in amusement as the three interact.

Johnnie keeps getting distracted by you, fumbling and stuttering his way through the intro. You watch as Johnnie struggles to find the supplies needed for the video, searching through every cabinet in the kitchen. “Every time Johnnie says he’s ready, he’s never ready,” Jake comments, adjusting the black beanie on his head. “Where the fuck did I put it? No, Jake where did you put it?” Johnnie replies, scavenging for the baking supplies.

“They’re in the pantry,” you comment, walking over to Johnnie briefly and guiding him towards the pantry. Johnnie smiles at you, grateful that there’s at least one sane person here to help him. The interaction was caught on camera, but you were too distracted to realize.

“Thanks babygirl,” Tara exclaims, bopping her head to the music blasting through her headphones. You roll your eyes, helping Johnnie take everything out of the grocery bags and sprawling them out onto the counter. Once everything is in order, Johnnie’s mouth is quickly covered with a sticker, but he’s happy he isn’t blindfolded because he can keep sneaking glances at you.

The entire situation was chaotic, none of them had any clue how to communicate properly and they had less knowledge on how to bake a cake. Jake’s arms were stretched forward as he tried finding his way through the kitchen, Tara’s loud singing making it hard for them to concentrate on one task alone.

Tara, who wore the headphones, was more focused on singing than the cake. You watch them intently, unable to stop yourself from laughing, “you need to whisk the cake!” Tara, who can’t hear a single thing you’re saying, repeats your statement causing you to burst into laughter.

Johnnie pulls out a plastic butter knife, deeming it appropriate for the task. “Get the beater!” Tara yells, following it by belting out song lyrics. Johnnie has no idea what Tara is talking about, so he sends you a pleading look. If there’s anyone here who’s going to help him finish this cake, it’s you.

“The whisk, get the whisk!” you exclaim, trying to talk over Tara’s singing as best as possible.

“What’s going on?!” Jake asks, one of his flailing arms slapping both Johnnie and Tara. Johnnie’s laughs are muffled by the sticker as he holds the whisk out for Jake, guiding him to the bowl.

“Babygirl?!” Tara is being so loud, her voice a good three octaves higher than normal. “Stop yelling!” you exclaim, but she ignores you and changes the song, continuing to belt out the lyrics.

“Y/n, we need your help,” Jake comments, stirring the bowl so aggressively that it was twirling. “We have no idea what we’re doing,” he continues, lifting the whisk up and blindly taking a lick.

“JAKE DON’T LICK IT!” Tara yells.

Johnnie’s laughter and shocked scream are muffled, his face scrunched up as he laughs uncontrollably, and you can’t look away. You wish you weren’t so shy, so that way you’d be able to join them in this fun activity without feeling anxious.

“This cake is going to be so bad,” you chuckle, catching Johnnie’s attention. His eyes linger on you for a little too long, a moment the fans were definitely going to clip and edit.

“What did you say?! Did you say my singing is bad?!” Tara is still yelling, following each and every statement with loud singing.

Many dirty dishes and a messy kitchen later, the cake is finally done. The oven rings throughout the kitchen, and Jake and Tara send Johnnie to fish the hot pan out. The cake didn’t look too bad, but considering you watched them make it, you weren’t too excited to actually try it.

“You have to wait until it cools to frost it!” Tara exclaims, the headphones causing her volume to be more than pleasant. Johnnie can’t respond because of the sticker, and he doesn’t want to wait for it to cool, so he continues haphazardly spreading the icing over the camera. Jake, on the other hand, is in his own world.

“That actually looks disgusting. It’s raw,” you gasp, watching as Johnnie lifts the spatula to reveal an uncooked, watery mess. “It’s undercooked!” Tara yells, her inability to hear you causing her to repeat everything you say in different words.

Johnnie’s muffled laughter is infectious, earning a string of laughter from you. “Let’s just eat it,” Jake suggests, facing the complete opposite direction of the group. The beanie on his head inhibits him from seeing the state of the cake, but even if he could see it, he would probably still ask for a bite.

“Wait let me help,” you get up from your seat and walk behind the countertop, immediately searching for something to serve the cake in. “This is gonna have to do it,” you hand Johnnie three plastic cups. He scoops up the raw batter, the liquid cake jiggling in the cup and running down the sides, immediately coating his fingers in frosting and batter.

“We’re gonna get salmonella,” Tara is staring at the goopy mess in shock, how had they managed to mess up such a simple recipe?

“I wanna see… I think we should take this off,” Jake yanks his beanie off, a fit of laughter attacking him as soon as he sees the state of the cake. Tara was subconsciously poking at it, creating a big hole in the center. Johnnie’s hands were full of chocolate frosting, and he held them up in exasperation as he waited for someone to remove the sticker from his mouth.

“Here lemme help you,” you murmur, gentle hands removing the sticker. Your touch lingers a little too long, but he doesn’t complain. If he had it his way, you’d have your arms around his neck and his lips would be on yours.

“Thanks, babygirl,” he whispers in return, loving how easily the nickname riled you up. You hated how much you loved hearing him say it.

“This is actually not that bad!” Tara’s boisterous voice breaks you two from the intimate moment, forcing you to reenter reality. “Try it,” Jake suggests, going back for a second scoop.

Johnnie is hesitant, but he grabs the cup and puts a spoonful of the raw cake batter in his mouth. His face contorts in disgust, but it couldn’t be that bad, could it? “Here let me try,” you take the cup from him, using his spoon to take your own bite.

As soon as the cake hits your tongue, you’re gagging. “Oh wow this is horrible,” you say, fighting the urge to throw up. They’re all laughing at your reaction, Jake pulling a long hair from his mouth in the process. “I love this hair, adds flavor.”

“Oh my God, I’m gonna throw up,” the hair Jake held between his fingers was only making the situation worse for you.

“See, she’s so babygirl,” Tara laughs, joking about the situation even if she found it equally as gross.

—

It seemed like your friends were always filming because every time the four of you hung out there always seemed to be a camera lurking not too far. Like today for example, Tara gathered everyone for a casual hangout, but once you arrived she explained that everyone was going to be living like her for the day. At first, you declined her invitation, making a lame excuse about not feeling good. But she begged and begged for you to be in the video, and before you knew it you were an integral part of it.

“Okay, since you guys are becoming me for the day, it’s only fitting that you dress the part. So, put on these track suits,” Tara says as she hands you, Jake, and Johnnie each a pink track suit. You’re trying to hide from the camera as much as possible, but Tara keeps pulling you back in every time you almost wander away.

The three of you shimmy into the outfits, immediately feeling the Tara Yummy essence wash over you.

“This is sexy,” Jake comments, admiring his figure as the sweatpants hang loosely from his hips. “I’m serving cunt,” Johnnie says, joining Jake in admiring himself. Their tattoos peeked through, contrasting the pink outfits entirely.

You emerge from the hallway seconds later, the track suit providing you with a newfound confidence, “I feel so stupid, but I also kinda feel like that bitch.” You stand still, allowing the camera to pan to you before hitting a dramatic pose. You turn around to show the camera the backside of the suit, the word babygirl written in curly white letters across your ass. “Slay, babygirl, slay,” Tara chimes in, strutting over to you and hitting the same pose.

“Let’s please not start with the babygirl jokes,” you groan jokingly, adjusting the sweatpants that kept riding up, you were starting to get a wedge. But you knew you weren’t going to escape the babygirl comments today, especially not with it written across your backside. It was like a label that you were forced to wear for the rest of the day, and the fans would surely seize the opportunity and run with it. To top it all off, the four of you were so well color coordinated that you looked like a 90’s girl group, ready to perform on stage at any moment.

“This is fun, but I still don’t understand why I’m being forced to do this,” you say, staring at Tara blankly.

“Because you’re my best friend,” she replies cheerily, offering you a big smile and booping your nose. It was hard to stay mad at her. She walks away, joining Jake as they engage in conversation.

“And you’re babygirl,” Johnnie teases, coming up from behind you unexpectedly, immediately causing a blush to form on your face. He loved watching you get flustered over the nickname. He laughs at your reactions, relishing every bit of it.

“Alright, first things first, time to eat. Mama’s hungry,” Tara says, ignoring yours and Johnnie’s interaction before facing the camera and leading everyone to the car. Jake and Tara are far ahead, leaving you and Johnnie to trail behind.

“It’s gonna be leaves,” Johnnie whispers to you, earning a laugh in response. He loved making you laugh. “Yeah, how much you wanna bet we end up at Health Nut?” you ask, settling the bet with a firm handshake between you and Johnnie. His hand holds a firm grip on yours, almost like he’s hesitant to let go as he says goofily, “$2, take it or leave it.”

As predicted, the four of you end up at Tara’s favorite restaurant; Health Nut. It’s no one else’s restaurant of choice, but you’re living as Tara for the day so it doesn’t matter what the rest of you want. You’ve been here with Tara enough to be familiar with the menu, so you order a simple salad and drink before moving to the side and allowing Johnnie to order. Once he’s finished ordering, he pays for your meals before letting Jake and Tara order.

Johnnie is playing it up for the cameras, trying to embarrass himself with his actions before the pink track suit does it for him. He’s sitting on a toddler chair and you stand next to him, choosing him as your comfort zone.

Because you always opted to remain behind the scenes, most of the viewers weren’t completely aware of yours and Johnnie’s dynamic. You two were always clinging to each other in uncomfortable or unfamiliar situations, making quiet jokes to make the other laugh. You both also had a huge crush on each other, which further served as a gravitational pull.

“Order for… babygirl?” the employee calls out, a hint of confusion in their voice as they read the name on the order. This immediately causes you to laugh out loud. “You did not do that,” you whisper shout at Johnnie, who held his hands up in feigned defense as he tries not to burst into laughter. You awkwardly grab the food, both of youwalking over to Tara and Jake’s table.

“Did they just call you babygirl?” Tara asks as soon as you’re sitting down. “Yes dude, fucking Johnnie told them that was my name,” you laugh, hiding your red face in your hands. They call out Tara’s name and she dismisses herself briefly to pick up the food.

“Let’s go!” She exclaims from the restaurant’s front door, bag and drink in hand as she pushes the door open and walks outside. “Oh, I guess Tara Yummy eats in the car,” Jake says sarcastically, the three of you following Tara to the car.

Once you’re in the car, you and Johnnie sit in the backseat while Jake and Tara occupy the front. “I wanted to eat in there, but you guys are so embarrassing,” Tara says, handing Jake his food.

She doesn’t give any of you enough time to respond, “you guys are already pretty embarrassing, but the pink track suits make us all look genuinely crazy.” She’s obnoxiously shaking her salad from the front seat, causing the entire car to rock.

“Damn, don’t gotta put your whole pussy into it,” Jake laughs, earning a sly remark from Tara. Soon, they’re lost in a conversation of their own, leaving you and Johnnie to talk quietly in the back seat.

“Why do you keep pushing this ‘babygirl agenda,’ sir?” You ask, both in true curiosity and to make light of the nickname. He blushes, mindlessly picking at the salad in front of him.

“Oh come on, don’t get all shy now,” you tease, piling up a good bite on your fork. He smiles at you awkwardly, preparing to admit something embarrassing.

“I think it’s kinda cute,” he admits with a shrug, taking a big bite of his food. Your eyes blow open in shock, this whole time you thought he was teasing you, but now it turns out he thinks it’s a cute nickname? “Don’t make fun of me,” Johnnie pleads in defense through a mouthful of food.

“I’m not, I just wasn’t expecting that,” you respond, trying not to be too loud. You couldn’t help it though, your giggles were soon filling the backseat. There was something about the confession that gave you hope that maybe you and Johnnie could be more than just friends. But you don’t want to get your hopes up, ir could easily all be for the video. You’re about to say something crazy and bold, but you’re cut off by Tara.

“Are you two done flirting? Cause I’m in the mood for coffee.” Leave it to her to ruin a sweet moment.

—

The day is finally over and the four of you are now wearing pajamas, reminiscing on the day’s events. Tara and Jake leave once the video is over, leaving you and Johnnie to lay on the large couch. The room is silent, but it’s not awkward, you’re both just catching up and joking.

“I was serious earlier, by the way,” he murmurs, staring at the ceiling above. “Yeah?” you say in a teasing tone, rolling over on your side so you’re facing him.

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “Yeah. If I’m being honest, I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed, I mean the fans definitely have.” You mindlessly play with the strings of your robe, subconsciously scooting closer to him.

“So that’s why you keep calling me babygirl?”

“Mmm yeah, mostly. I think it sounds cute,” he smiles down at you, your figure just slightly further down the couch. You feel a surge of confidence wash over you, something you don’t usually feel as a shy person, and straddle his lap.

He looks at you in shock, both arms limp at his sides. “Say it,” you whisper, moving your face dangerously closer to his. You use your hands to grab his, placing them on your waist. He feels excited, nervous, and shocked all at the same time, was this really happening?

You grind your hips down onto him, hoping to elicit a response from him. “Babygirl,” he whimpers, the sudden friction sending a shiver up his spine that has his hips bucking. You hum in response, finally inching close enough to connect your lips to his.

You’re in a heated make out session, completely obvious to the world around you. Johnnie’s hands are roaming your body, your hips are grinding down onto him, and your fingers are tangled in his hair. You kiss from his lips down to his neck, sucking and biting the delicious skin until you leave a hickey.

The situation is about to escalate, but Jake and Tara interrupt before it can. They saunter in loudly, both you and Johnnie jumping off of each other in shock.

“About damn time!” Jake says, applauding you both for finally make a move on each other. “Get it babygirl!” Tara laughs, joining Jake in his obnoxious round of applause.

“So annoying,” you groan, throwing a pillow at them and shooing them out. Once they’re out of the room, you and Johnnie share a sheepish look.

“You’re never escaping that nickname,” he chuckles, silently pulling you back on top of him. “That’s okay. If you��re the one saying it, I don’t mind,” you murmur, kissing him again.

“Okay, babygirl.”

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: Such a good request, I LUV being challenged with these specific requests!!! Hope I did it justice bby, I rewrote this like 5 times & had a different storyline each time. Also, I mentioned the famous hickey (💀💀) and I changed it from “baby” to “babygirl” because he mentioned that he’s “so babygirl” on Trisha’s podcast.

anyways, enjoy hunny bunches. Luv uuuuu

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

note: requests are open, I will be writing as many as possible because you guys have sooo many good ideas. Please be patient 💗✨

#teapartyanonreqs✨💗#johnnie one shot #johnnie and jake #johnnie guilbert oneshot #johnnie #johnnie guilbert x y/n #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert <3 #johnnie guilbert headcannons #johnnie guilbert angst #johnnie guilbert x you #Johnnie guilbert fanfiction #i love my emo boyfriend

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wintrwinchestr · 6 months

Text

obedience (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: you decide to act out after feeling neglected by joel for over a week. it doesn’t go quite according to plan, but his punishment does help you unlock a new kink or two.

warnings: 18+, smut, no outbreak au, daddy kink, d/s and ddlg relationship dynamics, brat tamer joel, degradation/humiliation (use of slut, whore, 1 use of bitch), orgasm denial/edging, boot riding, pet names (baby, babygirl, darlin’, sugar, sweetheart, honey, puppy), entering petplay territory??, finger sucking, one face slap but she likes it (and so do i), taking/sending nudes at work, subspace, hair pulling, joel cums on reader’s face, cum eating, two idiots who finally communicate and apologize to each other, gets soft at the end bc i’m a woman of many interests, reader can be carried by joel but no other physical descriptions, winter’s limited knowledge of what contractors do, pic of girl in the moodboard is for bra imagery only, reader looks just like you!! :)

word count: 4.1k

a/n: this is extremely self indulgent so please don’t look at me!!! lil shoutout to @pascalisbaby for inspiring me to write something just so i can use “puppy” bc their love’s gonna get you killed series has fucked me up extremely bad.

divider by @saradika

It’s coming up on nearly a week and a half of Joel working long days and late nights at the latest suburban McMansion he’s been contracted out to. Each and every time he creeps into his side of the bed after you’ve already gone to sleep, never failing to wake you up in the process, he always has a different excuse. “My concrete guy was out sick today”, “the vendor gave us the wrong size rebar”, “the landscapers were in our way all damn day”, and other similar eye roll-inducing anecdotes that were followed up with sleepy apologies.

Tonight, you’re almost certain, will be just the same.

Slogging through yet another slow and uneventful day at your corporate nine-to-five, you’re practically counting down the seconds until you’ll be able to escape your drab little cubicle for the day. You aren’t exactly looking forward to going home, though, either. You know that all you have waiting for you will be another lonely night of heating up a frozen dinner, watching reality TV reruns until the ten o’clock news comes on, and then tucking yourself into a cold bed.

While you’re waiting around for a coworker to message you back about something painfully unimportant, you decide to get up to kill some time in the bathroom on your phone and stretch your legs a bit. You stand up from your rolling chair, grabbing your phone in the process, and head down the hall to the one single-person bathroom in the building that you know of.

You step inside and click the lock shut behind you, looking forward to having a rare few minutes to yourself without the threat of your manager lurking over your shoulder. You inspect your makeup in the mirror and address some flyaway hairs before leaning back against the sink and swiping your home screen into view. Your heart soars at the discovery of a text notification from Joel, but settles just as quickly when you read the words across your screen.

A couple of my dumbass guys fucked up some measurements again. Gonna be another late one. Sorry baby.

You let out an exasperated sigh and turn around to face your reflection again, bracing yourself on the edge of the sink and trying not to cry. How much fucking longer are you going to have to put up with this? You'd been getting through it alright so far, but his sterile text had ignited a raging fire deep in your stomach that made a scorching heat climb its way up the back of your neck.

You’re determined to get his attention tonight, one way or another. Even if it means pushing some of his buttons, riling him up, making him feel a few licks of that very same inferno. You’re feeling fucking bratty.

You undo the top few buttons of your blouse and shimmy it off your shoulders, exposing the blushing lace of the bra you had chosen when you were getting dressed this morning. Using one arm to hold your phone up to the mirror with the camera app open, you use the other one to prop yourself up against the sink and assist in pushing your tits together. As a final touch, you pull down one of the delicate cups along with its accompanying strap, exposing an already peaked nipple. Meeting your own eyes in the reflection and forming your glossy lips into a faux pout, you snap the picture and attach it to your text conversation with Joel. You type out a coy little message to go along with it and send it off.

that’s okay daddy. just sad i wore a rly cute bra today for nothing :(

While you anxiously wait for his response, you take a few more lewd photos to tease him with later, and make your way back to your desk after you button yourself up again and smooth out your skirt.

Sitting back down at your cubicle, you check your notifications to find a response from Joel, sent just a few seconds ago.

What’d I tell you about sendin me shit like that when I’m at work? Put your fuckin tits away babygirl. Not in the mood today.

Despite his harsh words, you know your plan is already working in your favor. You can’t help but giggle to yourself as you attach another one of the photos you had taken in the bathroom, this one of your matching lace panties pulled aside to expose your bare pussy to the front camera. You type out another flirtatious message and tap the button to send it.

idk what u mean daddy :( just miss u is all. she misses u too :((

You promptly turn off your phone and place it screen-down next to your mousepad, resigning yourself to a mere ten minutes of work before you can’t resist temptation anymore and pick it back up again to check for a reply.

Last warning babygirl. I got enough shit to deal with today, don’t need your slutty pictures distractin me. I’ll see ya tonight.

whatever. u don’t pay attention to me anymore anyway :/

You begin to regret your message as soon as you send it, worrying you might have taken things too far. But it was true; you’re upset, in a bratty mood, and feeling neglected. And, maybe you did want to work him up enough for him to take it all out on you, to fuck the attitude out of you the way you know he likes to do every so often.

A few seconds after you power off your screen to do a few more minutes of work, it illuminates again.

Oh I don't? When I get home tonight you better be kneelin in front of the door waitin for me undressed like a good girl. Not like the fuckin brat you’re actin like. And we’ll see about payin you some attention. Now pull your fuckin panties up and get back to work.

Your heart jumps into your throat as you read his text, now feeling exhilarated that your plan is officially in motion. After you’ve read his words through a couple of times, squeezing your thighs together and stifling a whimper as you did so, your trembling fingers type out a simple reply:

yes daddy <3

The remainder of your work day seems to pass by in slow motion, every minute feeling more like five. You can hardly bring yourself to focus on any of your mundane tasks, your mind constantly drifting to what you might be in for tonight. Will he spank you and leave red handprints on your ass for days? Will he fuck your face while you sputter and gasp around him? Will he work you over with his tongue until all you know how to say is “I’m sorry, Daddy”? As you shake yourself from your trance and try to focus your eyes again, you wonder why you hadn’t thought to act up like this earlier in the week. You keep your eye on the little digital clock in the corner of your monitor for the last five consecutive minutes of your work day, and as soon as 4:59 flashes to 5:00, you practically sprint out to your car in your hurry to get home.

–

You’re cuddled up on the couch underneath your favorite fleece blanket, already stripped down to your peony-colored underwear set like Joel had requested. The past couple of hours have been spent cycling between all of your streaming services and social media apps, trying desperately to find something to occupy yourself with until he gets home. You’re half-tempted to get up and walk some laps around the house, but around 10:30, you finally see the scanning headlights of Joel’s pickup as it turns into the driveway.

You immediately spring up from your little nest on the couch and prance over to the front door, kneeling a few feet in front of it just like he ordered.

In your excited anticipation to see him, you tune your ears to pick up every little sound you hear as he makes his way to you: the slam of the truck’s driver’s side door, the dull thud of his work boots heading up the walkway, the prolonged jingling of his keys as he fumbles with them to unlock the door. You’re sure he’s fidgeting with them for a few seconds longer than usual, just to tease you and keep you waiting. A shiver runs up your spine and you can feel your heart pounding against the walls of your chest as he finally turns the lock.

He calmly steps inside and closes the door behind him, dropping his dusty work bag onto the floor and stripping himself of his canvas tool belt. He stalks over to where you’re knelt on the hardwood, wrapped in your dainty lace for him like a little doll. There’s something arousing about the contrast between your barely-there feminine attire and his dark, practical clothing.

“Well, whaddya know, she can be good after all… Waitin’ for me all nice and pretty just like I asked. All it takes is an order from your Daddy to get you actin’ right again, ain’t that right, babygirl? Obedient lil’ thing…” He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he speaks, keeping your eyes trained on his. You nod up at him, doe-eyed and dazed, already feeling yourself beginning to slip into that familiar saccharine headspace.

Every time you had previously tried your hand at bratting, it never lasted very long, and tonight was already proving to be no different. He was right, after all, it doesn’t take more than a command, a look, a gentle grasp of your chin, to remind you of your desire to be good for him.

“What, Daddy doesn’t get a proper greetin’ after a long day o’ work? You already that far gone f’ me, can’t use your words proper like a big girl?”

“H-hi, Daddy… Missed you today,” you half-whisper, your voice sounding a little higher and further away than it did earlier in the day.

“Yeah, I know y’ did… I’ll bet your lil’ panties are ‘bout soaked through already, bet you left a wet spot on your fuckin’ desk chair just from daydreamin’ about what I was gonna do to you tonight, hm?”

Another silent nod accompanied by a pitiful little whimper. The blazing fire in your gut from this afternoon is quickly being replaced by something much more easily tamed, something more akin to a flickering candle flame than a wildfire. You struggle to keep your eyelids open as they begin to feel heavier with submission.

A stern look and a ticked jaw is enough for you to correct your wordless response.

“Y-yes, Daddy…”

“And what is it that you think I’m gonna do with you tonight, babygirl? Speak up, now…”

You rack your brain for a moment, suddenly unable to remember any of the depraved fantasies you had been conjuring up all day instead of replying to emails. You eventually land on a relatively straightforward answer.

“I th-think you’re gonna… gonna fuck the attitude outta me, t-teach me a lesson… right, Daddy?”

He lets out a dark chuckle, releasing your chin from his hold to give your cheek a couple of condescending pats instead.

“Aww, dumb lil’ thing… you thought Daddy was gonna touch you at all tonight, make that pathetic lil’ pussy cum after the stunts you were pullin’ today? Nah, I don’t think so… Open that slutty fuckin’ mouth.”

You’re reeling, taken aback by his harsh words, words that were certainly not in any of the countless scenarios you had been imagining at work. There’s a long beat of silence as you struggle to process his command.

You hear the smack across your face before you feel the heated sting of it, and it prompts a debauched mewl to spill from your parted lips.

“I said open your fuckin’ mouth…”

Your jaw falls slack in an instant, your pulsing cunt releasing an ashamed wave of wetness at the degrading slap. Joel shoves his thumb inside your waiting mouth, and you wrap your lips around it obediently as you swirl your tongue along its calloused landscape. It tastes salty, a little dirty, and you like it.

“Good girl, suck on Daddy’s thumb, tha’s it… dumb whore’ll suck on anything Daddy puts in her mouth, won’t she? Desperate lil’ thing… Bet you wish it was this fat cock instead, don’t you baby?”

You whine and nod around him, your hole squeezing around nothing as you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Well… that’s just too fuckin’ bad, ain’t it? Tonight’s not about what you want, you can gimme that sad puppy look all you like, sugar, not gonna change anythin’...”

He pulls his thumb out of your mouth, and your slick lips try to chase after it until he wipes it clean on the side of your face. His hands make quick work of opening his stained work jeans and freeing his stiff cock from his briefs, taking it into one hand and beginning to pump it with languid strokes. He grabs a fistful of hair at the base of your skull with his free hand and taps the leaking head of his length against your cheek, adding to the dampness there from your own saliva.

“This what you want?” Tap tap tap. “You want Daddy’s cock? Hm? This what you been thinkin’ about all day, dirty girl?” He rocks his hips back and forth as he speaks, smearing his arousal along your skin.

You can’t help but squirm as a humiliated heat begins to pool in your tummy.

“Yes, Daddy, please let me have it, wan’ it so bad…” you beg.

He releases your hair and pulls his cock away from your face, making a show of massaging it and taunting you with what he won’t let you have.

“Nah, you ain’t gettin’ any of Daddy’s cock tonight, baby… In fact, I’m gonna stand right here and take care of m’self, and you’re gonna find somethin’ to rub that soakin’ cunt on while I watch…”

As the last of his words leave his lips, he steps one foot forward and nudges it between your thighs, looking at you expectantly. You lower your head to face his steel-toed work boot, covered in dust and dirt from his day at the construction site. Your mind still too deep in the clouds to understand what he’s asking of you, you lift your eyes back up to him for guidance. He juts his chin out in a silent “go on, then”, and you return your confused gaze back to his boot, the toe of which is positioned just in front of your aching heat. Your breath hitches and your eyes go wide as you finally realize: he wants to pleasure himself to the sight of you getting yourself off on his boot.

All at once, it falls into place how he wants the night to unfold. He wants to deny you. Deny you of his touch, his cock, even the privilege of making him feel good yourself… all because you acted out, disobeyed him, tested his limits.

“We understand each other, darlin’?”

“Y-yes, Daddy…” You meet his eyes as you speak, voice coming out a little unsteady. Any confidence you had while you were teasing him this afternoon is long gone, fully submitting to him now and completely at his mercy. He didn’t need to fuck you in order to put you in your place, he knew plenty of other much more degrading ways to rid you of your bratty attitude, to remind you of who you belong to.

You position your cunt over the filthy toe of his boot, the gusset of your lacy panties now completely saturated with your wetness. Your hands planted on either side of his leg, you try an experimental grind onto the leather-covered steel. A bolt of electricity shoots from your swollen clit to your fevered cheeks, burning with the eroticism of being made to humiliate yourself like this. He allows you to wrap your arms around his calf, using his sturdy form as leverage to rub yourself harder and faster against the solid material.

“Look at you, humpin’ my boot like a fuckin’ dog… that’s just what y’ are, ain’t it? Daddy’s lil’ puppy…” he teases, spurring you on with his words and the indecent sounds of his wet fist working along his thick cock.

You let out an involuntary yelp at the new pet name, which he’s quick to catch with a huff through his nose.

“Oh, she likes that, don’t she? Y’ like that, sweetheart, bein’ Daddy’s good girl, his obedient lil’ puppy? Yeah, I know y’ do… I got you trained good, don’t I? Do just about anything I want, won’t you? Got you rubbin’ that slutty pussy on my fuckin’ boot, for Christ’s sake, barely even had to ask… fuckin’ pathetic.”

The degradation makes your stomach swirl with a cocktail of embarrassment and pleasure. Your cunt flutters as you continue your frantic movements, releasing broken whimpers that sound something like uh huh and yes, Daddy. You’re sure that your slick has to be dripping down his boot by now, soaking straight through the leather and pooling onto the hardwood. You wonder if he might punish you for that, too, for making a mess of him and your freshly mopped floors. Just the thought of it has your hips picking up the pace, desperate to reach your high.

Your eyes are shut tightly as you pursue your orgasm, but you can still hear the shallow pumps of Joel’s fist and his stuttering breaths that indicate he’s close to his own release.

“Yeah, grind that sloppy fuckin’ puppy cunt on Daddy’s boot, there ya go… lookin’ like a goddamn bitch in heat… desperate whore… c’mon, puppy, make a fuckin’ mess for me…”

“I’m gonna cum, Daddy, gonna–”

Just as you feel yourself about to crest the wave of your climax, he pulls his foot out from under you and yanks your head back by another fistful of hair.

“Open up, puppy,” he groans as he splashes his hot release all over your face, aiming most of it around your mouth as you cry out from the denial of your own pleasure.

“Look at you, filthy girl… So pretty for Daddy, all covered in me,” he coos as the last few milky drops land on your cheek. Before any of it can start to drip, he scoops it up with his thumb and feeds it to you a bit at a time, and you continue to suck his finger into your eager mouth once again.

When your face is fully cleaned of his spend, he pulls his thumb from between your lips for a final time with a pop, and you stick out your tongue to show him you’ve swallowed everything he’s given you.

“Good girl,” he praises, petting the side of your hair in soothing strokes. “What do you say to Daddy, hm?”

“Th-thank you…” you choke out, still trying to steady your voice.

“And what else?” he asks.

You take a deep breath. “And… I’m sorry, Daddy,” you relent.

“For what, sweet girl?”

This was always your least favorite part, the part you struggled with the most: admitting that you were wrong.

“For being a brat today, for not listening and disrespecting you…” Your posture deflates, wondering if you should continue your confession. You remember one of the ground rules that was laid out when you first entered this dynamic with him, the one about how important communication is, and decide to keep going. “I jus’ feel like you’ve hardly paid any attention to me the past few days…” You start to sniffle as you speak, the overwhelm of it all finally catching up with you.

“Oh…” he breathes sympathetically. “Here, can you stand up, babygirl? C’mon, come sit on Daddy’s lap for a minute.”

He offers you his hands, and you use them to push yourself up onto shaky legs, feeling like a newborn foal. You wrap your arms around his neck and he scoops you up, carrying you bridal-style back to your cozy spot on the couch. He situates you in his lap, wrapping you up in your blanket again, and you bury your face in the warm expanse of skin between his shoulder and neck. You inhale through your nose, smiling to yourself and sighing contentedly when your senses are flooded with his natural comforting smell.

“I know I’ve been workin’ some real late nights recently… I’m sorry about that, honey,” he apologizes, rubbing comforting circles around your upper back.

“‘S okay, Daddy, ‘s not your fault,” you say into his skin.

“But I shoulda made more of an effort to give you some lovin’ anyway, I shouldn’t have had to wait for you to brat on me… Look at me, baby.” You lift your head and meet his sincere gaze, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours. “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“I’m sorry too, Daddy.”

“I know y’ are, sweet girl, I know…”

You exchange warm smiles, and he curls his pointer finger under your chin to pull your face toward his, placing a delicate kiss to your lips. He settles both of his large hands on either side of your face before breaking the kiss to press your foreheads together. You close your eyes and try to match his breathing, enjoying this moment with him.

After a minute or so, you break the silence. “So… puppy, huh? That’s a new one,” you giggle.

He laughs and releases your face from his hold, meeting your eyes again. “Jus’ wanted to try somethin’ new, I guess…” He snakes a hand under the blanket, thumbing over the damp crotch of your panties. “And judgin’ by this lil’ mess down here, I take it you liked it. Hm, pretty girl?”

Still sensitive from your earlier denial, you let out a high pitched little whine and an involuntary buck of your hips into his hand.

“See? Even sound like a lil’ puppy… Daddy’s good girl. You want Daddy to train you, babygirl, you wanna be his pretty lil’ pet?”

“Uh huh, yes, Daddy, please…” Your face is buried in his chest as you rut into his hand, squeezing it between your thighs, back to the same place you were just before he pulled his boot out from underneath you.

“Daddy was so mean earlier, wasn’t he? Not lettin’ you cum, punishin’ you for actin’ up… But I think you’ve learned your lesson now, huh puppy? C’mon, sweet girl, let go, soak Daddy’s hand…”

And you do. With his permission, you cry out, muscles spasming and cunt twitching as you finally ride out the climax you’ve been chasing all night. You’re panting by the time you start to come down after what feels like several minutes, exhaustion hitting you hard all at once. When some of your awareness has come back to you, you realize that Joel is gently rocking you back and forth on his lap, petting the back of your head and gently shushing in your ear.

“Shh, shh, you’re alright, babygirl, I gotcha, Daddy’s gotcha… So good for me, baby, my precious girl…”

When your breathing evens out once more, you muster the strength to lift your head from its place against his heart, and he chuckles at the sleepy and sated look on your face as you blink slowly at him.

“My lil’ puppy’s all tuckered out, huh? Let’s get you up to bed, darlin’, Daddy’ll tuck you in.”

He stands up with a groan, cradling you in his muscled arms, and carries you into the bedroom. You’re already drifting off to sleep when he sits you on the bed, carefully stripping you of your ruined underwear and helping you into a clean, sensible pair of cotton undies. He retrieves one of his oversized “Miller Contracting” shirts from his drawer and slips it over your head, helping your weak arms through the sleeves. Brushing your hair away from your face, he places a scruffy kiss to your hairline and helps you lay down onto the cool sheets. He pulls the covers up all the way over your shoulders, the way he knows you like, and smiles to himself when you burrow yourself into the sheets.

He takes a quick shower to rid himself of the grime and grit he collected on his skin during the day, and slips into bed beside you. Another private smile and a small shake of his head when you instinctually turn to face him and snuggle into his warm body, wrapping your arms around the breadth of his upper arm and inhaling the masculine cologne of his body wash.

He reaches across his chest to gently scratch at the top of your head, prompting a dreamy little noise from you. “Just like I said,” he whispers to himself, “a lil’ puppy.”

He wouldn’t have you any other way.

not really sure who to tag for this one, gonna use the same list from my last fic if that's okay!! anyone else please let me know if you'd like to be tagged on my future fics!!

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @gracieispunk @iamasaddie @rebel-held

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller smut

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thefanbasewhore · 7 months

Text

Skz think your skirt is too short. | Bangchan, Felix, Hyunjin and Changbin.

a/n: currently accepting preference/blurb requests for stray kids (NSFW included)

💖🌷Bang Chan:

The moment he sees you slip from the room he stands just a little bit taller. Eyes roaming over those legs, bare and soft. Your skin is forever tattooed in the pads of his fingers which he feels twitch, wanting to feel the soft ribbons of your skin.

The skirt was cute, it's flowy and matches the color of your white socks. Without even realizing he's grouping the back of your thigh, pushing you close until you're cuddled into his chest.

He presses a gentle kiss to your head but just like that a light goes off. Full protective mode is on. The brunette's hands clasp at your shoulders and pull you away to take one more look. If he's thinking this so will other guys.

"Babygirl," He starts softly, "You look so so cute and I love it but isn't is a little short?"

"But Babe," You whine, pouting and meeting his eyes. "It's not that short."

Chan scoffs, raising his eyes brows. "Yeah? Bend over, love, we'll test it."

Crossing your arms against your chest and not caring to move a muscle to challenge him. Not wanting to fall into exactly what he wants; for you to change.

"I want to wear it." Chan huffs, rolling his eyes but you know it's a facade, he can never be made at you. He pulls his hoodie off and over, messing his hair in the process but he still looked so cute as he wrapped the sleeves around your waist.

He doesn't move once it's tied; instead simply presses a kiss to your forehead. "What my baby wants she gets."

💖🌷 Felix:

The restaurant is rather crowded, he's skimming past the tables, looking around to find you. He is rather busy but promised he would make a quick trip to meet your friends. The relationship is fairly new, however, meeting the people who mean the most to you is important to him.

What he doesn't expect is you sandwiched between two guys. Well, that's dramatic, seated in SEPARATE chairs between two men. One of them has his arm resting on the back of your chair as he brings his phone closer to show you something.

As he walks closer he can't help but look at your legs, bare but crossed, causing your skirt to ride up more. No doubt the man next to you is getting an eye full. Felix pulls at his jacket, sleeve by sleeve and clears his throat; directly behind you.

Before you can even realize it's him he lays the jacket over your legs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Hi baby."

"Hi everyone." He bows politely. "I'm Felix."

The night went pretty well, they all seemed impressed. One of the men gave their seat up for him. During conversation he leans forward to whisper into your ear, "Your skirt is a little short, yeah?"

He watches as your nose scrunches, Felix was never protective like this before. Besides who is he to tell you? "Excuse me?"

He seems to have noticed the change, "Not like that baby, you look so pretty. I mean you keep pulling it down and moving. Just uncomfortable?"

Oh sweet little Felix, it makes you pout slightly and apologize, "I'm sorry Lix, I thought you meant something else."

"No worries, love, we can go back to mine. I'll give you some of my sweats to wear. Get my angel nice and cozy." He reaches and pinches the skin of your cheek affectionately but his hand drops once realizing the whole table is staring at you both. He clears his throat, turning as red as you in embarrassment.

💖🌷Hyunjin:

"No," Hyunjin says a little too quickly for your liking the moment you step out of the room. A frown forms on your lips showing your own disappointment.

"But I think it's cute and matches so well."

"No." His brows scrunch together, as his long finger nudges you gently to turn. The moment you do he's repeating himself, "Absolutely not."

"Baby.." you get but he's not having it.

"Too short. If you were going with me then yes, not out with your friends."

"Why not?"

"There's a lot of creeps out there, I don't want anyone thinking they will get a peak." His hand meets the small of your back, gently guiding you to the bedroom. "A little longer, petal."

"Hyunjin, I will look out for myself."

"Please, just change?" His face is only inches from your own, lips forming a soft pout. You're about to tell him no but those damn puppy eyes make you sigh.

"Fine but I'm mad at you." He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"We can go out to dinner tomorrow and you can wear it, promise, flower."

💖🌷 Changbin:

"Baby," He pouts softly watching as you apply mascara. On your tippy toes, reaching over the bathroom sink to see which makes your skirt rise up just enough to see the bottom of your underwear. "You can't go out like this, it's too short."

Changbin comes behind you, both hands on either sides of the counter, boxing you in. He's so big he takes up most of the space but you just continue to apply your makeup. "Honey, I said it's too short." He whispers against your skin before softening his words with a kiss at the shell of your ear.

"It's fine, Bin."

"Nooo." He practically whines, "You look too good, everyone is going to be staring at you."

"No one is going to be looking at me."

"What if you need to bend down? Everyone is going to see your panties and cute little butt, it's mine." He makes you laugh as you turn around wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Do you want to come with us?"

You watch his eyes light up, you want him to come to dinner with your friends?

"Wait, really babe?"

"Mhmm, of course you're always invited." Before you know it he's scrambling to get dressed but not before throwing a pair of stalkings your way.

"Sorry baby, it's so short. For my peace of mind."

#stray kids imagine #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #hyunjin x reader #felix lee x reader #changbin x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids

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milkteabinniechan · 5 days

Text

take your time - chan

pairing: bf! Chan x afab reader ☕//m.list

warnings: just fluff, mentions of menstruation, cramps etc

a/n: this is purely self indulgent. no one asked for this and I cried while I was writing it lmao. thanks for indulging in my insanity<3

This was it. Finally some alone time with him, with Chan. You had both been working so much. Your schedules almost complete opposite of each other. When you fall asleep, he would just be getting home. But now it was your weekend away. You had planned it for a month. Channie had taken the time away from the studio and you had pushed some deadlines back.

There was just one problem: your period. You had painstakingly checked your calendar to make sure this wouldn't happen, but the anxiety of it all much have started you up early. Ah, what perfect irony.

"it's alright, babygirl. I just want to be with you." Chan had repeated throughout your drive to the cabin.

But the guilt bounced off the edges of your brain like ping pong balls. You couldn't think of anything else besides your painful cramps and your failure as a girlfriend. As Chan's car pulled up the long driveway to the cabin, you felt your chest tighten. You knew if you opened your mouth, you'd only apologize again for the 1000th time.

Chan grabbed the suitcase you both shared and led the way to the front door.

"After you, gorgeous." He said with a smile, arm outstretched to the open door.

Jdndnndndjdndjdjd

Jdjdjdj

You stepped inside and were immediately greeted with bright sunlight and the smell of warm cedar. You had booked this same cabin a year prior, and absolutely nothing had changed. It was just perfect. Chan wrapped his arms around your waist from behind you. He nuzzled his face into your neck and took a deep breath in.

"I love you." He whispered low into the curve of your throat.

You quickly spun around and kissed him deeply. You were so incredibly in love. At times it felt like you could drown in this love. You pulled your head back and Channie held your face in his hands. His eyes spoke words of adoration. His lips recited an ode of devotion that your mouth had never tasted before.

Later that night, Chan had set up your electric heating pad and propped a few pillows under your feet. He had asked a few times if you were comfortable, especially when he moved on the bed or readjusted his seat. You apologized just once more that you couldn't, that you wanted to, but you didn't have energy to-

But this last apology was firmly interrupted with a slow, warm kiss.

"You never have to apologize," Chan's eyes locked with yours so he knew you were really listening, "You're in pain. I just want you comfortable and happy, because you always make sure I'm comfortable and happy. Always."

You fell asleep in Channie's arms that night. The fireplace burned until just low, bitter-orange embers flickered against the starlight.

taglist: @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @doohnut @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics

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reiding-writing · 5 months

Text

melatonin and oxytocin [ s.r ]

Summary:

You and Spencer pair up in an inn room that just happens to have one bed. Oh, and did you know that physical contact promotes better sleep? Well, that’s what Spencer says anyway. And he’s always right.

WARNINGS: literally none, crazy i know

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: pure fluff, friends to lovers

wc: 5.1k

masterlist!!

a/n: here’s my official apology for all of the angst i put you through in erotomania 😭 i dont write pure fluff like ever so please bare with me if it’s a little stunted 😭🫶 also this is very very loosely based of off 05X21 - Exit Wounds.

The team was currently in Alaska working on a case, set up in a small inn during their stay. The issue was, they could only provide 4 rooms despite there being 8 members on the team, meaning that everyone had to double up for the night.

Spencer’s first instinct was to turn towards Morgan, but before he even had the chance to open his mouth Morgan was profusely shaking his head. “Absolutely not,”

“Wha-” Morgan held up his hand before Spencer could question his decision. “Never again. You are some kind of vampire I swear,”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows in Morgan’s direction, met with a shrug. “This man needs his beauty sleep,”

“Dibs!” Garcia leaned over the back of the couch she was sat on so she could grasp at Morgan’s forearm. “I call dibs.”

Morgan chuckles at Garcia’s enthusiasm, leaning over to place a kiss on the crown of her head. “Alright, me and you babygirl,”

Garcia’s soft giggle is joined by a yawn from where you’re sat next to her, and you rub your eye with your knuckle as you lean your head against the back of the couch. “Can we just all choose quickly? I’m exhausted-”

The end of your sentence is cut off with another yawn, only further emphasising your point. Your words were definitely more blunt than usual, your tiredness most definitely making you more irritable.

“I uh- You can share a room with me if you want,” Spencer’s voice is timid as he speaks, and if he wasn’t stood directly behind you you’re not sure you would’ve heard it.

"Sure great, let’s go-" You drag one of the room keys off the small table in front of you as you stand, throwing your travel bag over your shoulder and walking around the couch, placing the palm of your hand flat on Spencer’s back to push him towards the stairs up to the rooms. “Goodnight.”

Your call back to the rest of the team is more of a custom than a genuine wish for them to get a good rest, and if you were more alert you’d probably hit yourself over the back of the head for being so blunt. But politeness wasn’t on your mind right now. You just wanted to sleep.

You fumble with putting the key in the door through your drowsiness, but eventually manage to push the door open to the room.

It’s about what you’d expect from somewhere small like this in the middle of nowhere.

The flooring was dark, with a small rectangular rug in a wine red colour in the centre, the walls an off-white with a slightly suspicious looking water stain in one of the corners. There was a dark-brown leather armchair leaned against the wall next to an ajar door leading to a bathroom, with a decorative pillow of the same shade of red as the rug on the floor. The arm of the chair had a noticeable rip, most probably from a child who’d got bored whilst staying there.

The room was warmly lit from the two lamps on the two side tables, the only other thing on them a basket-weaved mug coaster. The over head light was notably turned off, unable to be used at all seeing as it didn’t even have a bulb in it.

And of course, there was a single queen-sized bed in the centre of the room, it’s frame the same dark wood as the floorboards and definitely just as worn.

Although, the duvet and its pillows seemed brand new, a clean, sparkling white that stood out against the dis-colouring of the wall behind it, a throw blanket over the end and two decorative pillows on top, again matching the other decorative pieces in their dark red colouring.

You didn’t even have to look over at Spencer to know that he was definitely a little perturbed.

With a sigh your drag yourself into the room, dumping your bag on the armchair and unzipping it to pull out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to change into.

Spencer however, remained stood in the doorway, seemingly considering whether it would be a better option for him to go out and sleep in the SUV.

His rational brain told him to just suck it up and get on with it, but he couldn’t help that subconscious voice in the back of his head that rattled on about how unhygienic hotel rooms are, especially in small rural areas like this.

Not only that, he was also battling the reality that he would inevitably have to share a bed with you, even if it was large enough to house both of you without any unintentional physical contact; He was at least grateful that it actually looked clean.

“Can I- leave the light on?” He breaks his own train of thought as he pushes the door closed with his foot, surrendering to the inevitability of spending the night in this dingy room with you.

You give him a short nod as your answer, joined by your third yawn in the span of five minutes. "God I genuinely think I could fall asleep standing up right now-"

Spencer chuckles at your yawn and nods at your words, leaving his bag on the floor as he takes a seat on the left edge of the bed, pulling out a copy of Les Fluers de Mal and flipping through it until he found the page he’d left on.

“It has been scientifically proven that it is physically impossible to fall asleep while standing, as your cerebellum would be triggered in response to the lack of stimulation which would cause a reflexive response to make you sit down.”

Of course Spencer would know something like that.

You rifle through your bag to find your toothbrush and travel toothpaste. "So what I’m hearing is I could fall asleep standing, but then i’d just end up sitting down," You zip your bag shut again once you’ve retrieved everything you need, pushing open the door to the small en suite bathroom, which thankfully, was much newer than the bedroom. "That sounds like falling asleep standing up if you ask me,"

Your voice muffles ever so slightly as you shut the door behind you.

“Yes, that is a fairly logical conclusion,” He nods slightly as he reads, not taking in the fact that you can’t see him from behind the door.

“Although I still believe it doesn’t quite count as 'falling asleep standing', as when you sit down your brain then activates its natural response to the loss of stimulation in order to put you to sleep. You see, it is impossible to enter the first stage of the sleep cycle within that split second between standing and sitting down, meaning that your body would still be awake.”

You chuckle lightly as you stick your head out of the bathroom once you’ve finished changing, toothbrush in your mouth as you dump your work clothes over the arm of the chair.

“The act of falling asleep occurs when your brain begins to transition from a state of wakefulness to a state of deep sleep. This is signalled by a spike in alpha-waves, which creates a relaxed feeling leading to…” He trails off as he watches you walk past him, figuring you’re not listening to him anymore.

"Why’d you stop?" You straighten your posture as you stop momentarily in your tracks, turning your head towards him.

“Oh, I- thought that you weren’t interested in listening to what I was saying.” His reply betrays his surprise at your engagement.

“I was simply going to add that when you are sitting and the spike in alpha waves occurs and you begin to fall asleep, your brain will automatically trigger a response that causes you to slump forward, hence causing you to sit down.”

Your body subconsciously mirrors your brain’s interpretation of what slumping over means as you walk past him again to spit out your toothpaste.

"Oh- like when you’re in a car and your head falls forwards-"

“Yes, that is a fairly similar example actually. Your brain receives the sign that you are beginning to fall asleep when your head starts to nod forward, and this causes a trigger within the brain’s automatic control system that in turn activates a response that makes you sit up straight so that you don’t fall asleep at the wheel.” As Spencer speaks, he shuts his book, leaving it on the side table as he unpacks his bag so he can also change.

“It’s actually rather surprising how the brain is capable of performing such complex tasks that we sometimes don’t even realise,” He said with an astonished gleam in his eye.

"Huh, the more you know-" You give a satisfied nod at Spencer’s little exposition, taking a seat on the right side of the bed and leaning over to turn the lamp off, allowing Spencer to leave his on as he retreats into the bathroom.

You’d never express it verbally, especially not to Spencer’s face, but you quite liked when he’d ramble about topics he was interested in and knew a lot about, it was both educational and weirdly charming.

You let out another yawn as you pulled back the duvet to lie down, extremely grateful that the mattress of the bed was just as new as the bedding itself. Looked like you might be able to get a good night’s sleep after all.

"Did you know that the human brain has over 100 billion neurons making over 100 trillion connections between them. Each second, a 100 billion electrical messages pass from one neuron to another. It is really quite fascinating." Spencer continued his tangents as he exited the bathroom, now clad in a black t-shirt and a pair of tardis pyjama pants that you found oddly endearing.

"That’s a lot of electrical signals…"

"A lot is an understatement" He chuckled, moving over to the left side of the bed and carefully laying himself down, making sure he wasn’t accidentally making any contact with you.

"It is so complex that it is believed that only a portion of our neurons actually fire each second, meaning that there is potentially trillions of more electrical messages going to unused parts of our brain." He seems to get lost in thought, staring up at the ceiling as he considers the idea further.

You hum softly with a small nod at his assessment, turning to lie on your side so you were half-facing him as he looked up at the ceiling, and you couldn’t help but find yourself tracing his jawline with your eyes as you studied how the dim lighting from the lamp besides him gave it even more definition.

Spencer turns to look at you after a few moments and notices your sleepy expression, feeling a tinge of guilt at keeping you awake since you are clearly exhausted. “I should probably shut up and let you get at least a little sleep. “ He chuckles awkwardly, “Sorry for rambling on, I kind of got carried away.”

"It’s okay… I like listening to you…" You rub one of your eyes with your knuckle as you struggle to keep them fully open, eyelids fluttering as you blink repeatedly to keep them from closing shut. You weren’t done looking at him yet.

Spencer’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink at your confession of enjoying listening to what he had to say.

He then starts to talk again, his voice quieter as he tries to accommodate it to your tiredness. “It’s not the brain’s electrical signals that dictate if you sleep or not, by the way. It is actually a neurotransmitter called melatonin.”

“Melatonin is the hormone responsible for controlling your sleep cycle, and it’s responsible for that sleepy feeling we get when we're tired.”

"Mhm…” You nod softly against the pillow, that was one fact you were definitely familiar with thanks to the joys of university, although hearing it come from Spencer’s mouth just made you want to go along with what he was saying like it was brand new to you.

“Melatonin also helps to regulate your body’s circadian rhythm, which is basically your daily schedule,” Spencer explained.

“Our bodies are naturally conditioned to go through a cycle of sleep and wakefulness. During the day your body will release cortisol and adrenaline for stress management and focus, and during the night your body will release melatonin to help you relax, making you feel sleepy.”

“Well i’m certainly feeling the effects of melatonin right now…” You try to keep up your responses to what Spencer is saying without falling asleep, but you can’t help closing your eyes as you focus on the softness of his voice.

Spencer smiles at your response and nods as he looks at you and notices your eyes are closed. “I should probably stop rambling then, since I don’t want to keep you awake for any longer…” He spoke even softer if that was possible, his eyes trailing over your forehead and down the bridge of your nose.

"I like your voice Spencer, it’s calming…" Your words are half muffled as you mumble them against your pillow. "And your facts are interesting…"

“Huh?” He asked you with a raised eyebrow, having not quite heard what you’d said.

"I like hearing you…" You simplify your words a little bit as you repeat what you’d said, a little louder this time, and you force your eyes back open again to look at him.

Spencer’s cheeks immediately turn pink at the compliment, and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He is then quiet for a moment as he tries to process what you said.

“You… like hearing my voice?” He asks, a tinge of confusion evident in his voice, to which you reply with a soft nod and a small hum of affirmation. "I hate it when people interrupt you…"

Spencer’s cheeks remain a light shade of pink as he tries to process what you said, and he stays quiet for a while, trying to think of how he could respond to your little confession.

“I… Well… thank you-” he replies, trying to stay calm whilst also hiding his flustered smile.

“No problem…”

Spencer smiles at your response, eyes studying your expression in an attempt to better understand your feelings. All that he can make out however is your hair, and your tired and half-closed eyes.

“You know, you should probably go to sleep.” He chuckles softly, “It’s quite late after all,”

“Yeah… that’s a good idea…” Your voice is quiet as you mutter out an agreement, but you can’t help from feeling a mild disappointment that your small conversation with Spencer was coming to an end.

“Did you know it takes an average of 7 minutes to fall asleep?” You murmur out the fact as a last resort, half-hoping that it will encourage Spencer to keep talking to you.

“Well, it depends on the person actually” His reply is soft and non derogatory, and his eyes remain locked on the peaceful tiredness in your expression. “On average it takes about 15 minutes of lying down in a relaxing environment to fall asleep, however for some people it might take 20 minutes or more. On the other hand, some people can fall asleep much quicker, with one study finding that it only took an individual 65 seconds to fall asleep.”

“I wish I was that person,” You shift slightly to make yourself more comfortable, pulling your right leg upwards towards your chest and incidentally brushing it against his in the process.

Spencer is lost in his emotions as he stares at you, and it takes you turning your head against the pillow for him to realise that he wasn’t fully listening to what you’d said. “Oh- Yeah, pretty lucky huh?”

His eyes avert from you after that, suddenly very intrigued by the water stain in the top corner of the wall opposite where you were laying down, trying to remind himself that it is inappropriate to stare at his colleagues like that.

But despite all the rationalisation, his heart continues to beat at an accelerated pace and he begins to feel strangely excited seeing you move around the bed. You might be tired, but he certainly wasn’t. Not anymore.

Spencer turns to look at you again as you cover your face with your arm, seemingly protecting your eyes from the light of the lamp on his side table.

He’s silent for a moment as he finds himself staring at you again, mentally punching himself for finding himself getting so lost in your facial features.

"Do you want the light off?" He asks you, keeping the tone of his voice gentle.

“No it’s okay,” Shake your head underneath your arm, “You can keep it on…”

You knew about Spencer’s phobia of the dark. The whole team did. It was pretty much a given after what he went through a few years ago with Tobias Hankel. And you wouldn’t mind sacrificing your comfort of sleeping in pitch black darkness if it meant that Spencer wouldn’t be uncomfortable or afraid.

Spencer gives a nod at your answer, and you can tell he’s relieved that you didn’t want him to turn it off. After a few seconds he speaks again.

"Can I ask you something?" He says, keeping his voice soft.

“Mhm?” You move your arm from your face to rest against your forehead so that you can look at him as he speaks.

Spencer's cheeks immediately turn a light shade of pink again as he meets your eyes. “It's… uh… Well, it's a strange question,” He replies awkwardly

“Would… you mind if I… uh….” He pauses, struggling to find the right words. “Would you mind if I put my arm around you?” He eventually manages to say, keeping his voice soft.

“Huh-?” You let you arm fall back down to your side as you process his question, eyes blinking more awake and Spencer’s cheeks only turn more red as he sees your surprised expression.

“Well… You see… I- it's a common thing that people do when sleeping… to… uh… to hold one another..” Spencer replies, still keeping his tone soft and gentle. He begins feels incredibly stupid for even bringing up this topic, hastily trying to explain himself before it has the opportunity to become awkward.

“Is it?-” Your eyes flicker around his face, your eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly as your exhaustion seems to momentarily disappear.

“Uhm… well… usually it’s for romantic reasons,” He replies, his face turning a light shade of pink yet again. “But… uh… I’ve … heard… that some people like to cuddle in a… platonic way… to help them fall asleep…” His voice threatens to waver slightly as he speaks, and he hides the lower half of his face in the bedsheets in an attempt to hide his cheeks, not wanting you to see how red he’s gone.

“Oh- Uh- Well, if you think it’ll help…” Your subconscious mind knew that Spencer was pulling those facts out of his ass, but you didn’t have the mind to care, not when he was practically openly inviting you to drape yourself all over him.

Spencer perks up when you give him the go-ahead, gently wrapping his arm around you and lightly pulling you closer to his body as he turns to look at your face. “Is this okay?”

His expression screams nervousness as he stares at you, praying that you don’t find his actions uncomfortable.

“Mhm…” Your response is short and direct as you nod, adjusting yourself to lie with your head resting under his chin, allowing your arm to drape over his torso like he’d done yours and bringing your leg up to rest over his waist.

Spencer can’t help but smile as he feels you make yourself more comfortable, sliding one of his arms underneath you and moving the other to hold the inside crease of your knee.

“Do you know that physical contact has a calming effect on people’s minds?” He keeps his voice gentle, as he always does.

You give a soft hum that gently vibrates against the skin of his neck, sending a small shudder down Spencer’s back.

He carefully adjusts the position of his head so that he can keep looking at your half-closed eyes, figuring that considering the two of you were practically intertwined like a pretzel that it would be okay for him to gaze at you again.

“You know that skin-to-skin contact promotes the release of oxytocin…. It… uh… it can help to make you feel calm and comfortable,” He says softly.

“Oxytocin…” You mumble the word under your breath as you try to remember what the hormone is, “…the love hormone..?”

Spencer’s voice turns to a whisper as he responds. “That’s correct. A lot of people refer to it as the ‘love hormone’ because it is released at high levels when people engage in romantic activities or are falling in love.”

“It is also responsible for the feeling of trust and comfort,” His hand on your leg begins to draw small circles against your skin, barely feathering over you to the point where you can hardly feel it.

“Would you believe me if I told you that we were producing this hormone right now?”

You sigh softly against his neck at the ghost of his fingers against your leg, only half listening to what he’s saying as you try to focus on the feeling, and Spencer responds with one of his own as he feels the warmth of your breath against his skin, leaving small goosebumps in it’s wake.

Spencer’s fingers slowly widen their ascent up and down the side of your leg, brushing along your thigh as his fingertips gently skim your skin.

“Comforting, isn’t it?” His voice is low and gentle as he feels just how comforting your presence is, slightly shocked by how excited he feels when being this close to you.

“Yeah…” You muster up as much of nod under his chin as you can, giving his torso a slight squeeze from where your hand is around it.

Spencer smiles at your gentle squeeze of his torso, noting how light it is as you barely manage to add any pressure at all.

“Do you know that physical touch also triggers a person’s serotonin and dopamine production?” He asks you softly.

As if to test his fact himself, he moves his thumb up and down your thigh with a little more pressure, his fingertips leaving behind a trail of almost unnoticeable goosebumps.

“Yeah… Yeah I knew that…”

Spencer smiles softly at your confirmation. “Then you know the feeling they’re giving you right now?”

You give him another small nod as he pulls you a little closer to him, stroking his fingers a little higher up your thigh. His arm underneath your side shifts to your mid back and starts to gently massage at the tense muscles formed over your last few days bent over a desk to work on the case’s profile.

The slow pressure elicits a soft groan from your lips, a pleasant release from all of the tension you’d been carrying over the last few days, slowly dissipating as his fingers worked their magic over your t-shirt.

Spencer can feel you starting to relax into his body as his fingers work against your skin, and his breath threatens to catch in his throat as your hand moves from resting around his torso to up over his shoulder, fingers curling closed against the fabric of his t-shirt.

Spencer leans his nose against the crown of your head, the trace scent of lavender entering his nose as he took a slow breath in, most likely a trace from when you’d last washed your hair.

By this point, the two of you were very aware that the position you were in was anything but platonic, his hand tracing patterns into your thigh, your head pressed into the crook of his neck, and your hand slowly tracing over the curve of his shoulder to take it’s place cupping his cheek, your thumb pressed against the front of his ear with the rest of your fingers splayed in the soft curls gracing the side of his head.

“I’ve run out of facts…” Spencer laughs nervously at his confession, breaking the small silence between you.

“you’ve run out of facts…?” You force your eyes to blink open again as you repeat his statement as a question, pulling your head out of it’s position under his chin to look up at him curiously as you arbitrarily trace your thumb over his jaw. It wasn’t at all like Spencer to just not have anything to say.

Spencer’s face turns a dark shade of red when he hears your question, made much worse at the feeling of your thumb on his jaw, the feeling sends a shiver down his spine. “I- Yeah….” He says quietly.

Suddenly a thought passes through his brain.

“I… actually…. I do have one more fact…” his voice turns to a whisper as he speaks, a tinge of nervousness still lingering in his tone.

“Hmm?” Your expression brightens a little, and he catches the small glisten in your eyes as the dim light from the lamp reflects off of your irises.

There’s a short pause.

Spencer then clears his throat before speaking.

“...Do you know that right now... at this very moment... I want to kiss you…?”

He remains facing away, his hands trembling ever so slightly against your skin as he mutters out his confession, trailing off at the end to the point where if you were any further away from him you wouldn’t have heard it.

“...Is that okay…?” His voice was barely a whisper, scared that if he were to speak too loudly he’d scare you off and you’d never want to speak to him again.

“You want to… kiss me..?” His confession spurred you further awake, no longer struggling to keep your eyes open as you scanned his expression, your hand halting its movement against his jaw.

The sight of you gazing up at him makes his heart skip a beat and causes butterflies to flutter in his stomach. Spencer then looks down at the space between your noses, and speaks nervously.

“…I- Yes, I want… to kiss you…” His eyes quickly dart over to your lips and back again as he waits for any signal of acknowledgement or refusal.

“Will it help us fall asleep?” The question leaves your mouth instinctively as a way to try an alleviate the mild awkwardness between the two of you, and you internally berate yourself for not taking the situation seriously.

Spencer laughs a small, nervous laugh when you ask if it would help you both fall asleep, moving his hands back over to your thigh and gently brushing his fingertips against it.

Spencer then looks down at your lips again as he speaks. “No, I don’t think so…” He says, his tone once again turning to a whisper. “…if anything it might actually wake us both up further…”

“Just say it will so I can kiss you-“ Spencer remains silent for a moment, face frozen in shock. He then lets out a nervous sigh as he looks down at your lips again.

“…It- Yeah- Yeah it’ll help us fall asleep…” he whispers, his voice barely audible, and he gives you a nod that’s a little too eager.

“Then there’s no harm in trying right?” Your hand cups the side of his face, gently encouraging it down towards yours so you can finally place a kiss on those perfect pink lips of his.

“Yeah…” He slowly leans forward towards you, taking in your faint scent, the warmth coming from your breath, the softness and moisture of your lips.

Spencer’s lips slowly press against yours, just barely ghosting them with the tiniest bit of pressure. He then slowly pulls back, his eyes darting all over your face before again settling on the stain in the corner of the wall. It was just so interesting.

You take his chin in your hand gently to turn his face back towards your own, your thumb gently tracing the line under his bottom lip as your eyes scan his cheeks, pouring over the extremely faint spotted freckles over his cheeks. You’d never noticed them before. But then again you’d never been close enough to.

“I’m not quite sure it worked… Maybe we should try again…” You watch as Spencer’s face erupts into a beautiful pink flush, a soft breath resembling a laugh leaving his mouth. “Yeah, we can try again-”

Spencer nods as he speaks cutting his own sentence short as he leans down to kiss you again, adding a little more pressure this time as he seemingly grows in confidence. The kiss remains chaste and short, and as he pulls away for the second time his eyes remain fixed on you, smiling alongside his mouth.

“Is it working now?” He laughs softly as he speaks, eyelashes gently fluttering as he places a kiss on the bridge of your nose, his fingers slowly sliding into your hair at your temples.

“I’m not sure yet…” You respond with a kiss of your own placed against the curve of his chin. “Maybe we should keep going…” You place another kiss right in the corner of his mouth, and Spencer sighs softly as it misses his lips by a hair. “For research purposes…”

He smiles lightly when you mention it being for ‘research’, and his voice grows even quieter as he speaks.

“Yeah… research purposes…”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff

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starsinmylatte · 3 months

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The Taste of Love

In which our beloved bathtub lawyer realizes that he loves you the first time he’s forced to cancel a date.

Pairing: Higurma Hiromi x gender-neutral reader

Rating: Pure fluff

Word count: 0.6k

Click here to join my taglist (18+ only, this blog is mostly filth!)

Higuruma Hiromi was perpetually exhausted and wanted nothing more than to spend an evening relaxing with you, but his current caseload was just too overwhelming. He was a brilliant man and a peerless lawyer, but, unfortunately, he was still human; there was only so much work he could do in one day.

Higuruma had called you, head planted shamefully in his slender, ink-stained hands, and requested a rain check on your date. He apologized profusely, but you still sounded heartbroken over the phone. You reassured him that you understood, but the situation tugged at his heartstrings; his last relationship had ended because his girlfriend accused him of loving his work more than her.

Originally, the night was supposed to be spent with a lovely steak dinner and a movie at his place afterward. Hiromi wanted nothing more than to be snuggled up on his couch with a glass of wine and your head on his shoulder, but here he was at 8 pm... still in his suit from the workday and permanently attached to his desk chair with a mountain of files in front of him.

The last thing he ever expected was to hear a knock at his door thirty minutes later. A very confused, slightly disheveled Higuruma opened the door to find you standing out in the cold with three bags of groceries, a pan, and a loaf of bread.

"I wasn't sure what kind of pans you have, so I brought one!" You chirped, beaming up at the tired man. Higuruma blinked at you blearily, not daring to believe his eyes.

"Are you going to let me in?" You teased, slightly concerned that you'd done the wrong thing by surprising him.

Higuruma backpedaled instantly, quickly ushering you out of the snow into his apartment. "Sorry for the, uh, mess...." He apologized with a faint blush on his cheeks.

In truth, his apartment wasn’t excessively messy, but Hiromi was a working man in his 30s with little time to clean unless he had a date planned…. and he thought his date had been canceled. His heart thumped as you breezed into his kitchen with no preamble and set up a small cooking station on the counter.

At that moment, Hiromi would’ve testified in court that he’d never seen anyone more beautiful, even though you wore absolutely no makeup and your outfit consisted of leggings and a law school sweatshirt you’d “borrowed” from him. He stood there watching you wordlessly, slack-jawed from appreciation as you clicked on a burner and tossed the pan on to preheat.

“Are you… okay with me being here?” You paused, blushing slightly. “I wanted to do something nice for you since you’re working so hard. You still deserve a good meal and I know you’re too busy to eat properly. I probably should’ve asked before inviting myself over-”

Higuruma’s soft lips were pressed against yours before you could finish rambling. He kissed you tenderly but thoroughly, and you simply melted into his arms. All of your worries faded away as he broke the kiss to press his lips to your forehead.

“No, it’s perfect…. You’re perfect.” He murmured against your skin. “I just can’t believe how lucky I am.”

You kissed him again with a soft smile on your lips, and in that moment, Higuruma Hiromi tasted nothing but pure love.

Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @Orangecremepuff @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty @unoriginalidea @cindyneko-strider @markleeisdabestdrug @gabbyburgers @pseudowho

#tumblr pls let me actually tag people challenge #higuruma hiromi #jjk higuruma #higuruma x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #hiromi jjk #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi x you

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another-lost-mc · 4 months

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a new dating sim catches your eye and asmo is absolutely 100% not jealous at all.

a date with death | asmodeus x gn!reader

cw: sfw (slightly suggestive towards the end). pet names (asmo calls reader darling, sunshine). vague spoilers for parts of the game (up to day five). silly fluff and jealousy over 2d characters.

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: I really like this game (a date with death) btw, I definitely recommend it.

"I tried that new game you've been playing."

Asmo's comment catches you off-guard and your eyes slowly blink open. You were on the verge of sleep, warm and content with his chest pressed against your back and his arm draped loosely over your waist. The words are muffled slightly against your shoulder, his lips leaving a sticky trail from the hydrating mask he smoothed over them as part of his nightly skincare routine.

You've been playing a new dating sim lately. You knew Asmo peered at the monitor over your shoulder to see what you were up to, but he didn't seem all that interested. He didn't give any indication that he wanted to play it himself, either.

It's not the first romance-based game you've played in the Devildom and he never cared before. He thinks it's cute when you find a character that appeals to you. Sometimes he watches you play through the stories, or he'll listen with a smile while you talk about the game later.

When you offered to play other games with him in the past, he insisted that was Levi's area of expertise. That didn't prevent him from finding his own ways to enjoy your hobby with you though. He preferred to indulge you with a little bit of roleplay instead: parading around his room dressed like your favourite characters, imitating their speech patterns and mannerisms to sweep you off your feet, and seducing you as if they had come to life.

(Later, he seduced you properly as himself because no one can ever love you as much as he does).

But he knew right away that this particular game was different. You giggled at your desk while you tapped away at your computer. It made you smile in a soft and charming sort of way. It irked him that some pictures and words on a screen drew that sort of reaction from you the same way he did.

You lean back and glance at him over your shoulder. His expression is hard to read in the dark, but you can feel the heavy weight of his stare on your face. "I didn't know you wanted to play it. You should've told me! Did you like it?"

"Not at all," he declares firmly, and you can't help but chuckle at his sharp response.

"Really? Why not?"

"I'm so glad you asked, darling," he says as he turns over and sits up suddenly. He flips on the lamp beside him, and he rubs the back of his hand against your cheek in apology when you wince as light illuminates his room. He plucks something off the bedside table and waves it in your direction with a flourish. "I made a list!"

You give him a skeptical look as you roll over to give him your full attention, and he clears his throat and taps the top of the page. "My first complaint is the ridiculous title: I Made a Bet and Have to Survive the Next Seven Days Without Falling in Love With a Babygirl Reaper Who Wants My Soul! Seriously? The title alone should warn you how terrible it's going to be."

"That's not what it's called in the human world," you explain with a shrug. "I don't understand why they changed it here, it's a little bit silly."

He tsks under his breath. "Silly indeed. Where do I even begin with this so-called love interest? It's almost like the creators have never met a real reaper before. I can assure you most of them aren't as nice or cute as they make him out to be." The look he shoots you next is oddly serious, and it sends a chill up your spine as his words sink in. "I recommend not getting too close to their kind. Thirteen seems docile enough, but I prefer your body and soul to remain in one piece."

You're not sure how to begin to respond to that little speech, but he pokes the paper with his finger and continues reading his list of "glaring issues" with the game. The complaints get more ridiculous and obscure, and it's only when he gets to the bottom of the page that the reason for his sour mood dawns on you.

"...and when I thought it couldn't get any worse, he calls you 'sunshine.' He has some nerve - that's what I call you. Remember when Mammon thought it would be funny to call you his sunshine too?" A dangerous gleam twinkles in his eyes before it disappears just as quickly. "At least he learned not to do that again," he murmurs under his breath.

You shuffle over on your knees and swing your leg over his thighs so you can sit in his lap. "Do you have any other complaints on that little list of yours?" you ask him with a teasing smile.

He huffs in frustration and his frown is adorable - of course he has one more grievance to share. "That stupid reaper doesn't even know your favourite flower. Tomorrow I'm going to buy you the biggest and most beautiful bouquet you've ever seen."

He finally drops the paper but neither of you spare it a second glance as it falls over the side of the bed and flutters to the floor. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes your waist gently, slumping his head against your chest with a drawn-out sigh. "I don't see what you like about him."

"Oh, Asmo." You run your hands gently through his hair as you hide your smile against the crown of his head. "Are you telling me there's a video game character you're actually jealous of?"

"Of course not," he mumbles into your collarbone, mouthing softly at the skin with little flicks of his tongue but it's not quite enough to distract you. "I wanted to see what all the hype was about." His teeth graze the bottom of your throat and you swallow down a quiet moan. "I found it extremely disappointing, by the way."

You cradle his jaw gently and tilt his head up so you can kiss the corner of his mouth. "You're so cute when you pout," you coo softly, just to watch how his cheeks turn pink. "I hope you know that he could pop into existence and appear outside your window right now, and I still wouldn't be interested in him. He's not you."

The words seem to soothe him a bit if the purring in his chest is anything to go by. You kiss the tip of his nose and let out a quiet squeak when he grasps the back of your neck and pulls you down so he can kiss you.

Repeatedly.

"You're right, darling." Kiss. "He's completely irrelevant," kiss "and I've already forgotten what his name is."

The world tilts suddenly as Asmo flips you onto your back and braces his weight on his hands. You giggle when he leans down and noses along your jaw. One of his hands slowly glides down your chest and tugs at the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and tossing it aside without a second thought.

"Let's see if I can make you forget his name too, hmm?"

read more: asmodeus masterlist | obey me masterlist

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmodeus x reader #asmodeus x reader #obey me x reader #gn!reader #x reader

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rinasangel · 4 months

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𝗄𝖺𝗓𝗎𝗁𝖺.

g!p kazuha x fem reader

cw : dom kazuha, rough zuha, g!p, sub babygirl reader, daddy kink, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, pet names like ‘princess’ & ‘pretty girl’😵‍💫, mentions of cheating with yunjin, mentions of corruption, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, mentions of pregnancy, pure smut n nasty sex ☺️

a/n : to the anon who requested dom kazuha, sorry if you didn’t want g!p :(( I couldn’t stop myselfff🤤

zuha , reader

You tried your best to hold back your tears as your girlfriend scolded you for your previous behavior. Everything was all too much to handle. From the way her harsh tone rang throughout your ears to the way her huge dick bullied its way into your tiny cunt. Kazuha had you laid on your back, nothing on except your baby pink panties she pulled aside for easy access instead of just taking them off, because she knew you liked it better like this. You hugged your favorite plushie closely to you, it was the pink bunny that Zuha bought for you because she said it reminded her of you, trying to ground yourself as her long cock constantly bumped against your cervix. She was hitting all the right spots inside, making your vision go blurry as you failed to listen to her little lecture.

“You just couldn’t stay away from her could you? Such a fucking slut, couldn’t wait for daddy to get home so you fuck her best friend. Isn’t that right princess?”

You peeked up at her behind the plushie with big teary eyes, ones you knew she couldn’t resist. But this time, she was teaching you a lesson and disregarded any of your little tricks to get her to be nicer.

“‘m so-rry daddy. couldn’t help it… needed you so badly ‘n yunny offered to help.” You barely managed to squeak out as she scoffed and gripped your hips even harder.

She was right though. Last night you were waiting impatiently for Kazuha to get home, nothing but the thought of her dicking you down running through your mind. Yunjin happened to be in the dorm at that time and saw your needy state, offering a hand, well maybe more than just a hand iykwim ;). Things led to another, and next thing you know, you were on the couch bouncing on top of your girlfriend’s best friend’s cock, and you even let her cum inside. You couldn’t help it :( Kazuha had corrupted you into this cock hungry little slut, ready to jump on anyone’s dick when she wasn’t around to satisfy you.

“Nothing but fucking excuses. What’s next? Are you gonna let Chaewon and Sakura cum inside this pussy too? My pussy? This pussy’s mine and mine only you dumb slut.”

You gasped when she ripped the plushie from your hold and threw it somewhere in the room, you have nothing to hide behind now. A pout adorned your features when your girlfriend just smirked at you, picking up speed and maintained eye contact that became almost unbearable when you felt her reach a special spot inside of your used cunt.

“d-daddy, why did you th-throw tokki?” you said with a deep frown and teary eyes.

You were the type of person to apologize to your plushies when they fell off of your bed, so you almost felt guilty by your girlfriend’s actions (it’s silly, i know😭).

“You don’t need anything else distracting you, princess. Just focus on me fucking this tight cunt of yours.” Kazuha grunted out, struggling to thrust her big cock in and out of the tightness of your small pussy.

“o-okay daddy.”

You never disobeyed your daddy and settled on digging your nails into the light pink sheets beneath you, almost tearing them. Squelching noises filled your senses, along with Kazuha’s low and sexy moans and grunts. A knot formed in your tummy as daddy continued to hit that certain spot inside your sopping cunt. Her balls smacked against your ass from the force of how hard she was thrusting into you.

Your breath hitched and tears fell down your cheeks when her thumb made contact with your swollen clit, relentlessly rubbing in circles, forcing you into your high. Loud moans and whines escaped your mouth as your orgasm hit in full force, your cunt clenching hard around her large shaft and creaming on it. You let out shaky breaths, trembling thighs trying to close because she was starting to fuck you into overstimulation.

“d-daddy, please. slow down, i just- fuck- came.”

Your pleads fell to deaf ears though. Kazuha smiled at your fucked out state and pushed your thighs back, reaching even deeper places in your cunt with the new angle. She was relentless, ignoring your cries as she just continued pushing her thick cock into your pussy, stretching out the small hole. A new knot formed quickly again, faster than the last as she bottomed out inside you over and over again, driving you to your limit.

“wait, daddy, ‘m cumming again!” You barely managed to speak through your broken sobs that she caused.

You groaned as you felt a liquid rush out of you when she gave a particularly hard thrust. Clear cum splashed against her pelvis, coating her lower abdomen as well. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt relief once again, this time way more intense than the last. An arm covered your eyes, you refused to look into her eyes after squirting all over her.

“Look at me, pretty girl.” Kazuha was now fucking you softly while she gently palmed the prominent bulge her large cock made in your lower tummy.

Your arm fell to your side as you looked at her, sniffling and moaning while making eye contact. Your gaze trailed down to see her palming at the bulge in your tummy, eyes rolling back as she kept rubbing her hard shaft along the sensitive walls of your pussy. Your mind was hazy and numb while all you could think about was cock, daddy’s cock.

“Wow, look at the mess you made princess.”

Strings of sticky cum stuck to her pelvis and cock every time she pulled out, causing you to blush in embarrassment.

A shock of pleasure and pain shot through your body when Kazuha began pounding you into again, pushing you far past overstimulation and sensitivity. This time, she wanted to see you do the work. Since you’re so cock crazy, she wanted to see how much you needed and wanted it.

Flipping the two of you over, she sat up with her back against the headboard. You weakly gripped her shoulders for support as your whole body trembled.

“Ride me, princess.”

And so you did. It was your favorite thing to do anyways, but it was much harder when your cunt was so sensitive you almost came within seconds, or when she started to suck on your tits and pinch your nipples.

Kazuha made you do everything, just to show you that were hers, and only hers. She made you ride her until you were crying again, made you suck her off until you were gagging from her face fucking you, made you take it from behind like a good girl until you were screaming her name.

You were so fucked out after losing count of how many times she made you cum. Six? Seven? Hell maybe even eight. All of that and she hasn’t even dumped her own load into your begging cunt. She had her arms wrapped around your stomach as she fucked into the mattress. You could feel her tits press against your back, and it drove you insane. Kazuha’s hand found your clit once again and she made a mess of you, pinching and circling the bundle of nerves until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“stop… i c-can’t daddy…” your eyes were closed as you drifted in and out of consciousness, the only feeling filling your senses being daddy’s hard cock throbbing inside.

“Well you’re gonna.” Kazuha was dead serious, she was going to force another orgasm out of you, and she’s not going to take no for an answer.

“You’re gonna cum again like a good girl, and maybe I’ll consider giving you my load.”

Now that sounded like a good deal. So you endured one more mind shattering orgasm just in hopes to feel her hot cum paint your walls.

This time, her hands gripped your hips and harshly pushed you against the bed as she pounded you, making your ass bounce after every thrust. It was clear she was finally pushing herself to her own climax. Kazuha focused on the way your pussy perfectly squeezed around her aching cock, loving the feeling of you trying to milk her absolutely dry and empty her heavy balls.

“Fuck princess, you feel amazing. I’m gonna fill this pussy to the brim ‘n knock you up so good. You’ll be mine forever.”

You could barely manage a small hum in response, patiently waiting for her to fill you up. Kazuha’s hips stuttered as she approached her orgasm, tightly gripping the sides of your panties(yes they’re still on, she’s such a perv😵‍💫) and rolling her hips into you. Her veiny cock throbbed and twitched as she grunted out.

“Princess… gonna cum. You feel so warm ‘n wet, fuck-“

Kazuha moaned loudly and buried her face into your shoulder, her eyebrows furrowed as her teeth sank into your soft skin, marking you up. One hand squeezed your waist and the other gripped your ass. She gave a few small thrusts before burying her cock into you and cumming deep inside. Her large shaft throbbed as thick ropes of white pulsed out of her pink tip.

“Good girl, so fucking good for me princess. Take this cum, my pretty cock sleeve.”

So warm and so thick. You sighed in satisfaction as your girlfriend emptied herself, gifting you the feeling of her gooey cum shooting into your womb.

Kazuha took a few minutes to calm down before pulling out her flaccid cock, drenched in your sticky juices as well as her own. She carefully flipped you on to your back before readjusting your now soaked panties to cover your sore cunt again. Lying down beside you, Kazuha pulled you to rest on top of her as she held you in her arms, ignoring the way your soft skin felt against her wet cock.

“Keep my cum inside baby. You’re mine, no one else’s. Don’t want anyone else touching or fucking what’s mine.”

#le sserafim smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #kazuha smut #yunjin smut #chaewon smut #sakura smut #le sserafim imagines #im actually so down horrendous for big dick zuha like maam pls give me ur cock-🧎‍♀️#g!p #nakamura kazuha smut

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animehideout · 5 months

Note

I think a lot about jjk men being angry because their gamer girlfriend ignores them 😩

(sorry for the writing, english is not my first language

JJK Men x Gamer GF

a/n: Hello anon thank you so much for your request. I had fun writing this one. I really hope you like it 🫶🏻

( Requests are open )

Characters: Gojo Satoru / Toji Fushiguro / Ryomen Sukuna / Nanami Kento.

Gojo Satoru:

Satoru has been very busy with endless missions lately, getting home really late.

To ease your lonliness, you started gaming.

Well till it turned into addiction.

You were kinda mad at him for not making time for you or at least speak to the higher-ups to take some days off.

But you never talked that out with him, since you didn't have the chance to express yourself.

He surprisingly arrived early tonight, excited to spend the night cuddling with you while watching movies.

But he didn't expect you to have your eyes glued on the screen in front of you while gaming like a maniac.

The room echoed with the sounds of keystrokes and game music.

He jumped in excitement to surprise you but no reaction.

“huh? baby! Im hooome”

“hey” you smiled unenthusiastically at him and quickly turned your focus back on your game.

He raised his eyebrow, watching as you delve into your virtual world, a world seemingly more captivating than his presence.

Would try everything to bring your attention towards him.

He knows his touch makes you weak, so he leaned in wrapping his arms around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head, wishing to draw your attention away from your screen.

“I missed you so much babygirl”

His attempt failed miserably, you just hummed in return completely ignoring him.

When his affection didn't work he started teasing you attempting to provoke you and get a reaction out of you.

“You sure you can play this game? I feel like you suck at this”.

When his teasing fell on a deaf ear as well, his frustration reached its peak.

His calm and amused voice turned into an annoyed tone.

“ARE YOU REALLY GONNA IGNORE ME FOR THAT STUPID GAME Y/N?” he would yell in an unusual harsh tone.

The question hang in the air as it left you momentarily stunned.

“Why the hell are you yelling?” you would question.

“Oh so now I got your attention?! I've been trying to talk to you for half an hour now and all what you did is playing your stupid game”.

His anger was very evident.

He would remove his blindfold throwing it somewhere in your shared bedroom.

“So you got mad because I was focusing on playing my game but you didn't consider that I'm probably the one who's mad because you're never home” you let out of everything, confronting him.

“you're comparing this stupid game to my job?”

Oh boy he fucked up, he didn't get the whole point.

After raging and snapping at you he would give you the silent treatment.

Of course his narcissistic ass wouldn't apologize first.

He's convinced that it's your fault even though he was offensive as well.

You would eventually say sorry and he'll show you his bright smile at the spot.

Both of you would talk things out and find a solution to spend more time together.

“so we good now baby?...can we cuddle?”

“yeah Satoru just lemme finish this round” you would joke.

Toji Fushiguro:

As much as he enjoys your giggles and the way you throw cute tantrums while playing, he HATES IT when you're completely engrossed in your game, oblivious to the way he's sitting there watching you.

Kinda paradoxical.

He wished to have you in his arms.

Or having you on his lap while making out.

But all of these were just thoughts crossing his mind cuz you don't seem like you're finishing your game any time sooner.

And that annoyed him to the core.

“y/n, y/n ?”

“HOW LONG IS THIS GOING TO TAKE”.

You didn't even hear him with having your headset on.

He's very possessive of you and he wants all of your attention to himself.

Especially when you started chatting with your friends, while playing together.

That shit was his last straw.

“Thats it...get your ass over here y/n”

You would look at him in disbelief.

Mouthing “my friends heard you”

“oh trust me I don't give A SINGLE FUCK” he would yell again.

You apologized to your friends and quickly paused the game.

“Are you out of your mind Toji why did you say that”.

“Why did you apologize to your friends while I'm the one you should apologize to”

He would stand up approaching you, narrowing his eyes, clearly pissed.

His giant figure making you take a step back, trapping you between him and your desk.

“Now what should I do to you for ignoring me for too long huh?” he whispered.

You started stuttering, his strong aura did things to you.

His narrow eyes piercing through you, sending shivers down your spine.

“I- I'm s-sorry” you gulped.

“What a good girl...now turn off that computer before I smash it and get your ass on the bed”

Well you had no other options, so you obeyed him.

Unless you want to act bratty which will result in him punishing the hell out of you.

Would spend the whole night cuddling you, literally smashing you in his strong arms, never letting go of you. 🫶🏻🥹

“But Toji I really need to use the bathroom”.

“Nuh-uh”.

Ryomen Sukuna:

Two possibilities, whether you're too bold or you're suicidal and have a death wish to test this man's patience.

They just released this new game and you're completely obsessed with it.

You would spend hours playing it, luckily Sukuna was busy with some things so he didn't notice the way that game took your whole attention and energy.

He wants to be the one taking all of your time and energy.

But when he does notice, oh god, run or pray for your life.

“y/n come here let me kiss you”

“one second!!!”

He would look at you in disbelief.

Cocking his eyebrow, while leaning back .

Even though your back was facing him, you could feel the daggers he was sending your way.

“I said NOW”

“Please baby, I'm winning be there in a sec-”

You didn't even get to finish your sentence when he threw your whole set up off of your desk.

Your eyes would widen in shock.

You don't know if you should feel sad that your whole gaming set up got destroyed or scared that you're the one about to get destroyed.

“You dare to ignore me.. that's bold of you y/n” he would say in his deep voice, making your chest tighten.

“I'll only allow this once, there won't be a second time... do you understand?”

You would nod immediately.

He would throw you on his shoulder taking you to your shared bedroom.

“You need to be taught a lesson after all”

Of course he wouldn't apologize that he got angry at you.

I mean, it's Sukuna we're talking about.

The next day, Sukuna would surprise you with a new gaming computer with complete setup.

You've never imagined him doing this gesture but you truly appreciated that the king of curse actually considered your feelings.

“I don't understand what humans find so entertaining in this game... you should try murder is much more fun..”

You would happily unbox it and place it on your desk.

“Now, Doll next time when I tell you to stop you stop immediately without any stupid excuses”.

Nanami Kento:

Would be home after a long day at work.

Brings dinner with him and expects both of you to eat together while talking about your day and future plans for the weekend.

Only to find you in a dark room, only your computer screen glowing.

“y/n I'm home darling!”

“oh hey there baby” you would simply say eyes still glued on the game.

He wouldn't think much of it even though you were used to jump on him, embracing him in a long hug and telling him how much you missed him.

But lately all what you've been occupied with is this game.

Would give you space, while he takes his time to shower, prepare the table for both of you to have dinner.

“y/n dinner is ready, let's eat”

“yeah yeah I'll be there in a sec Kento” you said, agressively pressing the buttons on your controller.

He would sigh and head to the kitchen, to wait for you there.

Half an hour has passed, an hour and you didn't show up yet.

“shit” you said to yourself when you checked the time.

You ran downstairs to find him on the couch watching TV.

You slowly approached him and sat next to him.

“ken-”

“you don't have to say anything y/n”.

Your heart ached because you know you screwed up.

He would ignore you, his eyes fixated on the big screen in front of him.

You would place your hand on his lap but he would reject you.

“Kento please”

He would start lecturing you.

“You know, that was extremely childish y/n.. I've been waiting for us to have dinner together since the moment I left the morning.. that's what keeps me going.. knowing that I'll come back home to find you..but you did what? you ignored me”

He would be really furious but he kept it to a low and cold tone.

No matter how much he gets pissed he'll never raise his voice at you.

You would look down, embarrassed and feeling extremely guilty.

“I'm your husband y/n , lately you're not fulfilling your duties towards me like I do to you..”.

He is a responsible man, and he believes in efforts from both sides.

You would end up crying.

And he'll end up apologizing even though it was your mistake from the beginning.

He hates seeing you cry, especially because of him.

He regretted getting angry at you.

Between sobs you managed to explain to him that you were trying to win an award by getting the first place in this game.

Would bring you to his chest, holding you close.

“shh I'm sorry.. that's okay. I understand. I'm sorry if my words were harsh”

Would wipe your tears.

Doesn't go to work the next day and spends the day with you while you teach him how to play.

Thank you for reading (⁠♡⁠ω⁠♡⁠ ⁠)⁠ ⁠~⁠♪

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luveline · 8 months

Note

Ok Derek angst what about a non-bau gf getting jealous of his flirting with Garcia? Bc ngl if my bf did that with a girl who I hadn’t met I would be super upset and then May be his gf meets Garcia and realizes she’s a girls girl and super sweet? Idk u can take it any direction

ty for your request ♡ fem!reader

You don't want anything to do with Penelope Garcia. Honestly, you wouldn't ever meet her if you had your way, but you're level-headed enough to know that she's important to Derek. Integral to his life. It's a miracle you put off meeting her as long as you had.

At first, you genuinely thought she was Derek's mom. He always ended calls with, "Love you, mama." It was only a few weeks ago when he shook things up to say, "I love you, babygirl," did you look up from the book on your thigh to ask who it was.

"Penelope," he'd said, like he was confused. "Who'd you think?"

You shrugged noncommittal, earning yourself a hair pet and a kiss. You lay awake that night wondering if you got it wrong. You'd heard a hundred stories about her and felt reluctantly fond, but now? Your boyfriend calls other girls pet names, what do you do about that? What can you?

You ignored it. And now you have to meet her.

She doesn't seem as nefarious as you've imagined her, springing from her seat at the cafe table to hug you. "Hi! Oh my god hi! I can't believe I'm finally meeting you, I've never been this happy in my life! You're so pretty!"

You wince at her arms thrown over your shoulders but reciprocate. You aren't a total bitch.

"Thank you," you say. She smells like coffee creamer and hairspray. She pulls away to beam at you, her lips painted a shiny, pretty red. "It's nice to meet you. Derek has nothing but good things to say about you."

It sounds awfully formal, like you're opening a bank account with a teller who has a shared acquaintance. Derek gives you a look. You give him a look back, mutual confusion. She may be his best friend, but you don't know her (and what you do know you're jealous of, so).

Derek takes your hand despite your off behaviour to show you off with pride, his teeth peeking from behind his lips milky white. "My two favourite girls had to meet eventually."

"I thought I'd be more jealous about coming second," Penelope says, eyes twinkling, "but I've never seen Derek so happy." Her voice turns scratchy like stretched linen. "He deserves the best, you know? And it's clear you're it. He's smitten."

"Maybe don't give up all my secrets, sweetheart," he says.

Seeing them together chills your raging envy. There's a lot of love there, clearly, but the sexual tension you pictured is fictional. "Girl code, my love,'' Penelope says with a shrug. She winks at you.

Insecurity nags at your skin like condensation on a cold window, "You've known Derek for nearly six years? Have you guys always been this close?"

"Well, mister muscles here didn't bother remembering my name for the first couple of weeks that we worked together, so he deferred to pet names. And, you know, he's him," —Penelope gestures to him as if to say, behold, drawing a startled laugh from you— "and I'm me, so. I didn't want him to stop."

"Hey, now."

Penelope shakes her head at you. "He always does this."

"If 'this' is stopping you from talking bad on yourself, babygirl, then yeah. I'll always do it."

You feel clarity break, the sweet taste of relief and the muggier lick of shame. Derek and Penelope have a special friendship. That you knew before meeting her. She's made a huge, irreplaceable impact on his life, and Derek has clearly done the same. They aren't playing work husband and wife —there are reasons for their affections that go well beyond the surface flirtation.

"I get it. Nobody ever called me anything so nice as Derek calls me," you confide. Derek's eyebrows leap up. You've never told him this; you're telling Penelope as a sort of apology, though she can't know that. "I never got asked out growing up. When he asked me on a date I thought he was trying to win a bet."

Penelope's expression flickers with relief. There and gone, quickly replaced by sympathy. "Are you kidding? You're so pretty, Derek's lucky he got to you before someone else did."

Derek kisses your cheek. His lips linger against the apple of it, your joined hands pulled instinctively to his firm torso. You might be imagining it, but Derek seems to know everything, so he probably knows the hill you've just climbed in your head. "Damn straight I'm lucky. I'm surrounded by beautiful, genius women. This is paradise for the modern man."

You flush at his touch and praise. Penelope makes a pleased squeak. "Ooh, you guys are cute! You need to let me take a photo. This'll make a great printout for your wedding."

"Penelope."

#derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan x fem!reader #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan fluff #derek morgan fanfic #derek morgan oneshot #derek morgan scenario #derek morgan drabble #derek morgan fic #derek morgan fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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ghostsbaby · 1 year

Note

BABE. WE NEED A FANFIC OF THE READER RIDING SIMONS THIGH LIKE RN, LIKE IMAGINE HIM BOUNCING HIS LEG UP AND DOWN TO TEASE THE READER OH MY GOD?

pairing - ghost x fem!babygirl reader

word count - 742

warnings - just some thigh riding, name calling, bad plotting and daddy kink!

a/n - got you baby! hope it’s okay. it’s not a complete fic but had to whip something up. let me know if you want something different. not proof read so if things don’t make sense oops I apologize 🖤🖤🖤

You weren’t facing him. Weren’t witnessing the change in his eyes when he felt your cunts heartbeat against his thigh. Weren’t seeing the amusement in his grin when you didn’t make a sound about it.

So he only did what felt natural. Tease.

He knew how to get your attention while you just sat there in his lap solving a puzzle with your holes untouched and pussy dancing on his thigh. Ghost knew how to fuck with you.

You had just finished the border, putting the last piece in place before moving onto the next section of the 1000 piece puzzle that had a picture of a cute puppy on it with pretty pink flowers. How cute he thought, gonna ruin it.

Of course at this time you weren’t alone. The rest of 141 already joined in the same room while Ghost had plans of turning you into putty. Gaz and Soap were watching a movie while Price began to softly snore on the couch. Perfect.

Looking for matching pieces you were playing oblivious to Ghosts intentions, not even noticing his growing cock under you until you felt the first bounce and heard the light tap of his boot hit the ground.

Your eyes zeroed in on one of the pieces in your hand, coming back from your little princess world of everything perfect now that you know what Ghosts really doing. You were sitting in his lap and occasionally, but purposely fluttering your pussy all over his thigh. You knew he could feel it.

The bouncing of his leg continued and it only made you weaker, starting to lose focus on the puzzle in front of you while the only thing Ghost is paying attention to is your cunt bouncing against him. It wasn’t the first time.

It didn’t take long for your panties to soak. The fabric thin and rubbing against you, his pants having all sorts of pockets and buttons that you find one and press your sensitive bud into it. Fuck he was going to have so much fun with you.

Ghost sat lazily in the chair, watching and waiting your every move while he bounced his leg. Starting off slow before going into a continuous rhythm of trying to get you to come while the boys were in the same room, almost all of them awake. Ghost knows how fucking loud you are and is going to use it against you.

You roll your hips impatiently and deeper. Your feet hanging off the floor under you, only bracing on Ghosts thigh as the puzzle doesn’t exist to you anymore. All hope of you being silent and not giving into your boyfriends shenanigans was thrown out the door.

“Look at you baby. Fuck.”

Low growling in your ear, his pace slightly quickening to see what noises he could get away with. You squeaked, hands bracing against the table while you started to hump Ghosts thigh and he fucking loved it. Ghost didn’t need to look over to notice the shift in Soap’s body and it drove him mad.

Ghost wasn’t even fucking touching you and you were melting all over his leg, riding his thigh like it was his cock you were gonna cum all over. His cock stretched his pants tighter and tighter while you desperately dry humped the Lieutenant.

“Do you want them to see you? Fucking slut.”

His hands finally made contact with your hips as he brought you down even harder against his thigh, making you hump against him vigorously until he could feel your body start to go limp. He held you up effortlessly, pushing his knee up so your clit presses against the buttons on his pocket and rolls your hips in circular motions.

You’re panting, letting out a string of moans before Ghost starts to bring you to orgasm from words you never wanna repeat.

“Come on baby. Ride Daddy’s thigh until you’re making a mess.”

The puzzle pieces scattered on the table started to fall off the table while you whined and whimpered out moans, hitting the ground with just enough noise that Price opens his eyes while you’re shaking against Ghost and he holds you down harder, leaving bruises where he dug his fingers into your sides.

You dared yourself to look in the captain’s direction, turning your head ever so slightly until it’s brought back to the puzzle in front of you by a hand closing your throat.

#simon ghost riley #b answers #b writes #simon riley #ghost #simon riley smut #ghost smut #ghost x babygirl!reader #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #mw2 #call of duty: modern warfare 2

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bsxcrxts · 5 months

Text

mess

Luke Skywalker x fem!reader

(note: written with fem!reader in mind, but no gendered language towards reader. reader is afab with breasts)

MINORS DNI. AGE IN BIO TO INTERACT WITH MY WORKS. I WILL BLOCK YOU IF NOT.

word count: 5k shameless, shameless words. teehee

Contains: This is a sex pollen fic!!!! Very mild dubious consent due to those circumstances, but reader and Luke check in with each other multiple times. Reader calls themself a slut briefly but no degradation, the nickname "bunny" and "baby", cunnilingus, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this unless you want a baby lol), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, Luke is so babygirl

A/N: This takes place between ANH and ESB and may be the closest I've ever written reader's personality to my own irl; reader is pessimistic and self-conscious at times though it does not come up during the sex in this fic, just before and after. Not to worry, happy ending ;)

The Rebellion's cover on Yavin IV was completely blown, of course. You can't get away with obliterating the Empire's most impressive weapon of mass destruction and then trying to just stick around to find out what happens– it would be exceptionally bad strategy. The Rebellion has mere weeks to relocate.

You're just not sure why you raised your hand to be placed on the mission to scout the next uninviting and dangerous planet to build a base on.

Actually, you admit to yourself, that's a lie.

You are sure why you thought it was a good idea, in fact, you're very sure, and the reason is a blonde man around your age with the prettiest blue eyes you've ever seen. You've had a crush on him since the moment you saw him, and he had also volunteered for the mission.

The reason is Luke Skywalker.

You jump at the chance, thinking that being around him in a small group would be the easiest way to get to know him. To make him really notice you, not just wave in the hallway as he walks by. Except, coincidentally of course, the Rebellion could only afford to spare two people for the mission, and they stopped taking names once they wrote yours down.

So now, a mere week later, you're alone, on a transport, with Luke Skywalker.

And things have never felt so awkward in your whole life.

In fact, you're seriously rethinking the whole Rebellion thing in general; yes, the cause is deeply important to you, but how important is your dignity in comparison? Would disappearing into the woods back on your home planet forever be letting the Empire win?

It's just that in the three days and two planetary excursions you've spent together, you've fumbled over every interaction you've had with Luke, and it's killing you. You've spoken to him before, but only in short, passing conversations, the kind of thing that's easy to run from. But now? There's no where to run. You've bumped into him at least four times that you can count on the tiny transport and rushed out apologies every time, tripped over a vine on the first planet, slipped on ice on the second. Both times he caught you before you hit the ground. You could have died from the embarrassment, melted into the floor and slipped away.

Your small talk is weak, but at least you can always talk about the weather, since it's actually topical to the mission. You don't know what else to say, desperately trying to come off as normal around him, not like some over-enthused fan who just wants to get with him because he's the Hero of Yavin IV. Luke is either oblivious, or pretends not to notice, and keeps trying to make conversation anyway.

"I don't like Hoth for it. Too cold," he says, sitting down in his seat as the two of you rocket through hyperspace, heading to the next planet. "Actually, it's all the snow. How do you build anything in all that?"

What's worse about the situation is that the mission has been fruitless. The base has to be built on a planet that is next-to inhospitable, with no current population to disrupt. It's a short list of horrible places, but you have to make one of them work.

"Well," you hesitate, "Deyer is toxic, we couldn't even breathe the atmosphere there. Plus we saw Imps orbiting Anout, which we should probably tell someone about."

"Already sent Leia a comm on the secure channel."

You're quiet for a half second. Luke talks fast, and you have to answer quickly to keep up with him, but you aren't used to hearing General Organa's first name from other recruits. Of course he's close with her. Are you trying to compete with a princess? You have to wonder.

Luke sighs and leans back in his chair. "Just like places where it's hot, that's all."

"Cause you fit right in," you mutter, completely accidentally, and hearing yourself, your eyes widen. "Being from Tatooine, you're used to it," you rush.

Hardly your best save, but Luke smiles at you, bemused. You swear sometimes he can see right through your facade.

"You know, I couldn't wait to get off that planet," he says. "There was never any adventure there, not anymore."

"Really?" you ask. "None?"

"I guess I could have stuck around to bullseye womprats in my T-16 but I'd been doing that since I was a kid."

"Oh," you note. Honestly, you don't know if you're sure of what a womprat even is, though you can guess. "So, is this mission another adventure, then?" you ask.

"It can be," Luke says. "I have a feeling it's an important one."

You nod, not sure if you have the right to ask what he means by a feeling. That's the other thing about Luke, he has this power most people don't, this Force that everyone started whispering about after he arrived on base with certain things no one had seen in a long time; a lightsaber, luck, a certain type of faith.

As you're overthinking it, the transport shudders out of hyperspace, blue lines becoming dots of light as you drift into the orbit of the next world on your list to investigate. The two of you part ways as he takes over piloting while you go to prep the packs to bring with you on the excursion.

When Luke lands the small ship on the planet's surface, you hope that this is the perfect location, but something just feels... off.

These places that you and Luke are investigating are all supposed to be disagreeable by design. Something– be it the weather, the atmosphere, the creature life– is supposed to keep most people away, including and especially the Empire. Everyone should be unsuspecting that the Rebellion would ever chose such a location for their base.

The problem is that the ecosystem here is shockingly nice. Welcoming, even. You've landed in a little clearing, but just a few yards away the landscape morphs into nothing but fields and fields, valleys and meadows as far as the eye can see, and in every field grows delicate little wildflowers; with purple petals barely the size of the tip of your finger. They seem to grow on the wild grasses, some of them reaching as tall as your hips.

"We got the right coordinates, right?" you venture.

"Yeah! I don't understand," Luke answers. "This isn't unpleasant at all."

Nerthusa, if you remember the name of the planet correctly, didn't list any conditions in the records, just that there were no sentient inhabitants. Your atmospheric indicator is reading that it's safe, so the two of you take your masks off. There's an overtly sweet smell in the air that hits you right away when you do, obviously because of the flowers.

"There's gotta be some massive creature that lives here that's plotting how to kill and eat us right now. I mean, why else..." you trail off, still looking around for a threat or an incoming storm, but there's nothing.

Luke has done his own surveilling and apparently also come up with nothing in the immediate vicinity.

"We should explore some," he says, "y'know, before we definitely pick this spot instead of Hoth for the base," he jokes, smiling at you again.

For all the grief you gave him earlier, you're not too keen on the idea of living on Hoth either, and so far, Nerthusa is beautiful. Plus, you'd feel pretty bad if you signed off on it and then it turned out there were wild herds of vicious carnivorous beasts roaming around or something. A thorough investigation is only fair, you think, so the two of you grab your packs and set off.

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

For a while, everything was fine, but about a half an hour into your trek, things are decidedly not fine in a very unique way, but you would probably rather literally die than mention anything about it to Luke. For one, he was so hopeful about this place, and secondly... well. Let's just say your symptoms were unusual.

It started off with what felt like hot flashes. One moment you'd be perfectly fine in the afternoon breeze, and the next, your cheeks would be burning and you'd have the strong urge to yank your shirt off. In the beginning, it would come in waves, and pass over you, leading you to think you'd just been pushing yourself too hard through the field or something, but how could that be true? The landscape was hardly difficult to maneuver, and your pace steady but not too quick.

The flashes were slowly replaced by waves of a different type of heat, one that was much more difficult to rationalize. Shit, you know you're attracted to Luke, but you've never, ever felt like this, not in situations outside of your bedroom. And not even then.

You can't look at him for too long or you think you might lose control. He's thankfully trailing behind you now by just a little bit, your only reprieve that he can't see your face like this. When you do glance back at him, he's looking at the ground, but his cheeks are flushed just beautifully, his hair catching the light from the late afternoon sun. His toned biceps have a slight sheen of sweat and, and, and–

You rip your gaze away. You want him. No, you NEED him.

No, you're being insane, you mentally scold yourself, but it's getting more and more difficult to rationalize your way out of it. There's a perpetual feeling low inside you now, and you can feel yourself actually dripping into your underwear.

You're not sure how much more you can take, and when you pick up on the sound of Luke breathing heavily behind you, it doesn't make it any better. Is he feeling this too?

Your resolve to say something breaks when you find yourself beginning to imagine what would happen if you stopped walking and let him run into you, pushed your ass against his cock, let him bend you over and fuck you into the goddamn ground, right here, right now. You're thinking about having something, anything inside your cunt, but especially his cock. You have to snap out of it.

"Let's stop for a second," you rush out, not giving Luke a chance to protest. You start walking away from him, hoping to put some distance between the two of you as if that will cure your ailment, so you lean on a large rock a few feet off the side of the trail you'd been walking.

The atmosphere is sickly saccharine now, stifling your breathing. There's a low mist or something hanging in the air and everything feels strangely heavy. You close your eyes for what you thought was just a second, trying to figure out how to bring up that this planet is obviously poisoning you despite what the indicators read earlier, but when you open them again, Luke is gone.

For a second, you panic; your blood runs cold, and your system is too overwhelmed with the brief shock and fear that you can almost fight off the symptoms the planet is subjecting you to. You scan the fields rapidly, your mind searching. It certainly would be worse to lose Luke Skywalker on a random planet in the Outer Rim than nearly any other bad luck that could befall you, and it would mean you'd be alone here. Under any normal circumstance the thought would certainly unsettle you, but rational thought is quickly slipping from your mind's grasp, and you feel different. Maybe even abandoned.

You wheel around and finally see him standing in the valley, several yards away, with his back to you. Your relief is palpable; you feel your shoulders drop and your heart rate settle.

And then the other feelings are back, ten times stronger.

"Luke!" you can't help but call out as you practically double over, and then, fighting to straighten your posture, take a few steps his direction.

Luke turns around and puts his hands out like he's trying to corral a frightened bantha, and that's when you know he's feeling it too. The thought of Luke being as equally aroused as you are in this moment makes your knees buckle.

"Don't, um... don't come any closer, something's wrong," he says.

"I know. We have to get out of here," you shout, continuing to move towards him. "I think I'm... I think I'm getting sick," you insist. It's not a lie, necessarily. It's not the truth either.

"Yeah," Luke says, his voice trembling. "Yeah, me too."

At least both of you are determined to avoid what's really happening.

"It's the flowers," you say, stopping a foot or two away from him. "We're allergic to the pollen, or... or, something. We should take the reaction treatment in the medpacks and leave."

Luke is not listening to you. It's evident by the way he's avoiding your gaze entirely. His eyes wander briefly down your neck to your chest before he appears to zone out completely, gaze falling to the ground.

"Luke..." you trail off. No response. "Luke?" you insist. He doesn't react until you touch his wrist– it's instinctual, and a huge mistake.

"Mm?" he moans lightly as he seems to snap out of the trance he was in, but when he looks up at you, his face is flushed, his pupils blown wide. You probably look similarly messy, you imagine, as the touch of his skin to yours electrifies you. It dulls the ache, soothes the relentless arousal even just a tiny amount. Stars, it's bad. It's worse, because you could become addicted to the way his skin feels against yours right now.

You pull back your hand like you'd been scalded. You want him like you've never wanted anyone. You don't dare to look at his body any further down than his chest, knowing if your own state is any indication, that he's hard and aching in his pants, and you don't know how you'll hold yourself back if you see him like that.

"Sorry," you whisper. He doesn't say anything, just licks his lips subtly and nods.

"Luke," you protest, "we have to get to the ship, and soon. If this is... I don't know what it is," you trail off. Half-truths. You've obviously both been exposed to an extremely powerful aphrodisiac via the flower pollen, you and Luke know there's no denying that. But the extent of its symptoms, and how bad it will get if you stay, there's no way to know.

It pains you, staying focused like this. Your heart and cunt are screaming at you to just have sex with him, to just give in to the urge to use one other to get off. What's left of your logical reasoning persists in one singular thought; get away from the flowers.

"Okay," he says. "Okay, let's go back."

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

The walk to the transport is as silent as it is excruciating. You and Luke have an unspoken agreement to stay several feet away from each other, so he trails behind you once again. There's nothing to talk about, anyway.

The seam of your pants rubs against your clit with every step. You almost feel thankful for it, because if not for the merciful contact, you're sure you would have shoved a hand down your pants already. You can feel that there's a wet patch on the crotch of your trousers and you have never felt more humiliated, or more needy. Every few minutes, you sense Luke exhale a soft, barely audible moan behind you.

Don't look. Keep walking, you think. All there is to do is keep walking.

More lies, your mind supplies, like a screwed up dialogue with yourself. You could fuck him instead.

When you reach the transport, you dash inside like you're possessed. As soon as you're both inside, you seal the doors, hoping once you're out of the environment, things might change. You open one of the ship cabinets and rummage through the med supplies until you find the reaction treatment and quickly take the pill that's supposed to regulate your internal systems.

You turn to pass a pill to Luke, who's slumped against the wall, a hand conspicuously placed over the front of his trousers. You don't say anything, just watch as he also takes the treatment, then look away, seating yourself in the passenger side of the ship, crossing your legs, not knowing what else to do.

It's supposed to be instant, but nothing is happening. You wait a few minutes, hoping. Not a goddamn thing feels better.

"If you expect me to– I can't– I can't fly like this," Luke sounds almost irritated for a moment, which you suppose is fair, but you refuse to turn around to look at him. Your nails dig into the armrests next to you. If things hadn't been so damn awkward before, maybe there would have been some kind of resolution to this that involved you implying getting rid of the effects naturally instead of torturing yourself like this.

Distracted again at the idea, you imagine getting up and kissing Luke, pressing your body against him the way it craved. You imagined him pinning you to the wall, ripping your ruined pants and shoving his cock into you at a brutal pace, giving you everything you wanted, craved, needed right now.

Stars, you were on the edge of orgasm just thinking about it, clenching and relaxing your thighs rhythmically, hips doing tiny, almost imperceptible circles on your seat.

But you caught yourself before you could finish; you couldn't see your way out of it. You barely knew Luke, no matter how much you were into him, so you couldn't muster the strength to ask him if he'd consider it– if he'd consider you. You might die from this before you gave in, you thought. Maybe literally. You reluctantly uncross your legs, denying yourself release, and shifted in your chair.

"Fuck," Luke whines, suddenly across from you in the pilot's seat. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" you breathe. His close proximity is taunting you, and when you look over at him, his head is thrown back against the seat. He's absentmindedly touching himself, rutting his still-clothed cock against his hand as his hips jerk every so often, like it's not even on purpose but on pure instinct.

Animalistic.

"When you," Luke squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, "when you sit like that, I can, uhm–"

It's your turn to be a bit snappy with him. You're more than uncomfortable and there's no getting around it now. Mere moments earlier, you still thought you could ignore the problem and it would go away, but now Luke is grabbing at his cock over his pants right in front of you. Fuck it.

"Spit it out, Skywalker," you say, giving in and letting your own hand snake down your torso to cup your heat, pressing your wet trousers and panties against your pussy.

"Can smell how turned on you are when you open your legs," he rushes out.

"Oh," you breathe, barely above a whisper. It makes sense. Enclosed spaces. No longer the open field of flowers to mask the scent of your arousal or of his sweat.

When you think of it, your hips grind harder against your hand and the chair, and you let out a moan, frustrated, self-conscious, but unable to hold back any longer.

At this, Luke suddenly keens. His hips give one, two, three little jerks, and he bites his lip in an effort to stifle his own noises, his whole body tensing, blue eyes rolling back as he very obviously came in his pants, a wet spot forming on his trousers.

"Did you–" you go to inquire, but think better of it. It's obvious what just happened. "Did it help?" you ask instead. Your face is burning with embarrassment and intense arousal. The look on Luke's face when he cums is not something you ever intend to forget.

"No," Luke sighs, "no, I'm still– it's still– I think we can't get rid of it on our own. It... it's worse than before."

When you don't say anything, he keeps talking.

"Really want you," Luke says softly, and then he's sliding off his seat, moving to kneel right in front of you. His hands come to rest on your thighs, gently spreading your legs further open. Your eyes have to be as wide as saucers when he kisses your inner knee and inhales deeply before pulling away.

"Please? It's hurting you, too, isn't it?" he asks, his gorgeous blue eyes looking up at you, begging you silently.

In more ways than one, you think. You're being haunted by all the complications of this, no matter how badly you want him. You could fall in love with him, but Luke doesn't owe you anything; you're not dating, you've never even had a conversation longer than ten minutes before this week.

He doesn't even owe you this, and yet he's offering to give it to you.

"Yes," you breathe shakily, "I want you too."

No sooner are the words out of your mouth than Luke is pulling on the belt loops of your pants. "Take them off," he whines, and you rush, shoving your trousers off in haste. It feels good to give in to the effects of the pollen, feels right. You mind gets clouded, thinking only of Luke's skin on yours.

The flowers must be similarly affecting Luke, because before you can divest yourself of your panties, Luke's shoving his face against your clothed pussy, tonguing you lewdly over your already ruined undergarments. The feeling is amplified by whatever the two of you inhaled earlier, and you throw your head back, your hips leaving the chair as you squirm, at the mercy of the mess of a man on his knees in front of you.

"You're soaked," Luke moans against your cunt. Your mind is empty, filled with the base desire to feel his mouth against your bare cunt, and you shove your panties off your legs hurriedly. Luke helps, yanking them down.

"Oh," he whines, "These are so pretty." He's holding your wet undergarment up and staring like he's won a prize, momentarily distracted by the lace trim and the smell of you on them.

"We ruined them," he laments. "I'll get you new ones, bunny."

Luke doesn't give you time to respond, or to react to the new nickname he's given you, before he's practically pushing his face against your cunt. He doesn't hesitate; there's no teasing, no build-up, just the feeling of his tongue firm against you, starved in a way you've never felt before.

You can't help but writhe on his tongue. At the start, you try to avoid fisting your hands in his pretty blonde hair, but you can only hold yourself back for mere moments before you're tugging at him, pushing his face into your cunt and grinding your hips across his mouth.

And Luke likes it, moans into your cunt below you, panting. His big blue eyes find yours when you tug particularly hard and you swear you see his eyelashes flutter. He's doing his best to get as close as humanly possible to you, too, grabbing your thighs and pulling you forward onto his mouth, the wet sound of your cunt urging him on. He licks and sucks on your clit, and you sob.

It's heady. It's disgusting. It's going to make you cum. And somehow, he knows.

"Yeah?" he barely pulls away to answer you, "You like that?"

"Luke," you cry, pushed over the edge, grinding against his face as you let the aftershocks overtake your body, expecting your body to relax as usual into the bliss of the afterglow.

Except, the desire doesn't fade. The symptoms don't go away. If anything, they've intensified, and you moan frustratedly. The orgasm Luke has given you on any other day would have sated you completely, but not now.

Luke looks wrecked on his knees before you, pupils blown so wide that his eyes look dark. His mouth shines with your release, his cheeks a bright red.

You give into your urges.

Sliding off the chair, you situate yourself so you're also on your knees on the floor of the ship with him. You lean over, crawling into his lap, and claim his mouth, kissing him the way you've only ever dreamed you might one day. It's the first time you've kissed, you realize somewhat embarrassingly, mind reeling that he's had his lips on your pussy before your mouth.

"That was so good. You're so good," you compliment him between kisses, and he lights up at the praise, smiling against your mouth, hips grinding against yours, and you can feel how hard he is.

"D'you feel better?" Luke hesitates, almost like he's too nervous to ask.

You shake your head. "No...I-I need more."

"Me too," he answers.

"Let me help you?" you ask, trailing a hand over his cock, hard and thick in his pants. He shudders and bucks his hips, nodding.

You're quick to pull him from the confines of his pants, underwear just as soaked as yours was from his earlier orgasm. You can't even think to tease him about it though, because his cock is gorgeous. Long and pretty, flushed so much it must be painful– you know it is, just as much as your cunt aches to have him inside you.

You meant to take him as quickly as you could, to satiate the pollen, to cure yourself of the beyond intense desire you feel. You don't mean to toy with him, but you can't help it, you're mesmerized. The way his cock is leaking precum makes you stop and just watch, letting him fuck your hand, twisting your wrist a bit at the tip to make him moan and keen and cry out and– and–

He's cumming again, all over his open pants, all over his shirt, all over your hand. You've never seen anything like it. Your cunt twitches and flutters around nothing as you watch him finish.

His little noises, his "ah, haah, mh!" sounds almost send you over the edge.

"Oh, baby. There’s so much,” you gasp, eyes wide at the way he's literally dripping with his own spend. His cock refuses to soften, twitching in your hand even as you pause your ministrations– the pollen has completely eradicated his refractory period.

"I needa be inside you right now, please," Luke begs.

By now the feeling inside of you is debilitating too, impossible to ignore. You rip your own shirt off, pawing at Luke's clothing that's stained with his cum and help him take everything off before you're quickly straddling him, pinning him to the floor.

Selfishly, you wish you had time to marvel at his body, to slowly worship him, to mark his abdomen with love bites and kisses instead of jumping to this point, but the need for him is overwhelming. You sink down onto his cock, and you feel like the air has been punched out of your lungs.

"F-fuck!" Luke exclaims as he feels the tight heat of your pussy clench around him for the first time, overwhelmed. You would love to take your time with this one day, too, you realize as you look down at him. He's cute beneath you, staring up at you adoringly, eyes darting from where his cock is buried inside of you, to your tits, to your face. Maybe he'd react well to being teased, but it isn't the time.

And the way he's desperately thrusting his hips up into you now isn't so bad, either. His hands grip your hips, fucking you on his dick as you grind down on him, the two of you working in tandem.

You don't know if it's because it's Luke, or if it's because of the pollen, or a little bit of both, but you feel amazing right now; there's a comfortable warmth spreading throughout your body, and everywhere Luke touches you feels addicting. The pace is fast and rough and perfect.

You may never get this again, you realize. You've got to make the most of it.

"So pretty," you tell him. "Look so good like this."

Luke moans underneath you, his breathing shallow and stuttered, hips never ceasing to roll perfectly against you. You notice the way his gaze continues to linger on your breasts and can't help yourself.

"Touch me," you whimper, pulling his hands from their place on your hips to your tits. "You like them, don't you? Seen the way you look at them."

Luke practically worships your breasts, running his hands along your body.

"You're perfect," he whines. "A-all of you. Feel like a dream around my– uhm, uh! L-like you're meant for me."

The idea does you in. "Oh, oh god," you cry out, clenching on his cock and cumming for the second time in a matter of minutes. It wracks through your body, making you shudder and collapse against Luke, who redoubles his efforts, holding your body against his as his hips continue to fuck against yours, which is all the better for you; you can't believe it, but you still feel that your body needs more.

It's obvious that Luke is losing all concentration, lost in his own pleasure. He chases his own orgasm, rutting into your body like a man possessed, until you feel him erupt inside of you.

“Ccan't stop cumming..." he whines as you feel his cock twitch in your cunt, and now you're dripping in a different way than before, "Again, bunny, I n-need it again.”

"Fuck yes, me too," you cry out.

No sooner have the words left your mouth than Luke is flipping the two of you over, throwing your legs around his waist. You cross your legs behind him, drawing him even closer, and throw your hips back towards him, desiring to take everything he can give you.

He gasps sharply as he sheathes himself inside you again, overstimulated, but still absolutely insatiable.

"Does it hurt?" you ask, your own pussy sure to be sore soon, you knew.

"A l-little but it feels s' good," he whines. "Can't stop. Don't wanna stop."

"Then don't, baby. Fuck me hard," you insist.

He listens, his pace brutal, completely drunk on your pussy. Under any other circumstances you'd want to tease him for it, but you were much the same for him. His moans were relentless, whining and gasping at every thrust as you ran your nails down his back, clinging to him. One of his pretty hands comes to play with your swollen clit, rubbing against you gently but firmly.

"Y'like it?" Luke asks.

"So much," you answer. And then, because you're feeling a bit brave; "Feel like such a slut f'you," you say, sultry, hardly above a whisper.

Luke's eyes go wide for a second before he suddenly kisses you deeply.

"Y'wanna be my slut? Is that it?" he asks against your mouth.

"Yeah," you cry out as his cock perfectly hits that most sensitive spot inside of you.

"That's really hot," he whines. And then, like a silly little afterthought, "We're kinda both sluts right now," he huffs out with a laugh and you can't help but to smile as you kiss him again.

Hardly thinking anymore, you kiss at his neck, yet again wishing in a possessive way that you could mark him more permanently, but this would do for now. Luke shudders against you, crying out.

"Ah, oh, m' c-close. Y'gonna make me cum again for you, bunny."

"Yeah? Good," you say, and grab a handful of his beautiful blonde hair, tilting his head back so he's looking at you, "Want you to cum inside me again."

"Oh, unh, I ccan't hold it," he babbles, "cumming."

Luke sloppily ruts into you as he finishes; there's so much it's practically spilling out of you. He's falling apart, and you are too, following him over the edge mere seconds later.

You can sense that the pollen's effect is waning, but it's not yet gone from either of your systems. Luke's cock, despite having just pumped you full of cum, remains hard inside your pussy. You still ache for another orgasm, not yet content.

"Oh," Luke whines as he shifts inside of you, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

"Baby?" you ask, "are you okay?"

"Uhn," he chokes out, "yyeah, just, oh, ffuck, sensitive s'all."

"Just one more, baby, it's gonna feel so good. One more time," you coax, despite your own aches and pains.

This time, it's much gentler; not romantic, not quite, it still feels like there's an urgency, but the two of you are well-worn out, bodies nearly giving out despite the influence of the pollen; his cock oversensitive and your cunt full to the brim of him.

Luke presses a soft kiss to your forehead and you freeze, just for a split second. It shouldn't change things, but it does. It's not the time to be caught up in the logistics of all this, but your mind is beginning to be released from the brain fog caused by the flowers and suddenly there's nothing else to think about.

He must sense something about the change in your behavior, because he holds you close, and rocks into you softer. It makes you like him even more, makes you so fond of him you could cry. You don't. Instead, you pull his face towards yours and let yourself kiss him tenderly in return, unbearably erotic, tracing his skin as you moan quietly into each other's mouths, a mixture of sensitivity and pleasure mingling.

It's not long before the two of you are close to cumming again, and in a moment of greed and blind arousal, you pull him closer by his hair and bite and suck passionately at his collarbone, knowing it will bloom into a beautiful, dark mark that he'll hopefully remember you by, at least for a while. He liked it earlier, you remember. And he likes it now, you observe. Luke absolutely melts, gasps and moans delightedly, and spills inside of you for a third time, triggering your own orgasm as you clench around him.

Finally, you feel spent. Your cunt flutters with aftershocks, but there's no uncontrollable lust accompanied with it anymore. Luke slips out of you, his cock softening at last. The two of you lay on the floor of the transport for a quiet moment, breathing together, your muscles only now feeling the burn of your exertion.

Reality has set back in.

"I'm sorry," you blurt out when you can finally think of anything to say, grabbing your clothes from the discarded pile nearby and holding them in front of your nude frame, as if there was anything Luke hadn't seen that evening.

Luke, who's been lounging on the duristeel floor quite comfortably, sits up and furrows his brows.

"Sorry? Why?"

You look at him pointedly, and gesture vaguely. "Kind of a mess, isn't it?"

"Oh, we can clean up," Luke says, his mild confusion obvious.

"I... I don't know if I meant literally," you say slowly, "I mean, the whole mission has been a mess. I'm a mess. This is a mess."

"I don't think you're a mess," Luke wagers, his tone careful yet reverent, and it shakes you. "and I don't think this mission has been all that terrible either. 'Cept for Hoth, really, but that's besides the point."

You're silent. The air might as well have been punched out of your lungs.

"If you want to pretend all this didn't happen, that's fine," Luke continues, "but I like you, and– and if you feel the way I feel, maybe you'd think about going on a date sometime? After we find a planet to put this stupid base on?"

Something in you relaxes, despite the fact that your heart is pounding. "Yeah. Yeah, I- I like you too. We can do that," you can't hide your smile.

"This is going to make a real funny story one day," Luke says, smiling back. "I told you. Adventure."

"Yeah, well... I don't know if we should put it in the mission report."

Luke actually laughs then. It's a sound you hope you get to hear for the rest of your life.

"Share the sonic?" he asks, "You weren't kidding about this mess," he says, gesturing to your shared fluids on both of you.

"That tiny shower? We'll be pressed against each other like sardines," you tease. "I'll probably slip and fall and break my ass."

"I'll catch you."

"Well then, how could I say no?" you wink.

"I guess I'll see you in there," he jokes back, starting to walk down the small corridor to the refresher. When you join him, you were right, there's barely space for the two of you to even turn around comfortably, but you wouldn't change a thing.

“One more thing," you say as you step inside, "There's no way in hell we can put the base here.”

Luke sighs, an over-exaggerated thing, and pretends to roll his eyes.

“Hoth it is.”

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

a/n: holy shit guys. I finally did it. two years in my mind. three days to write. here it is. I hope you love it.

#luke skywalker smut #luke skywalker x reader #star wars smut #luke 💛#becca’s bs

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