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#because man I haven’t had a good day like this in a minute
joelsgreys · 2 days
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Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader
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snapshots masterlist
summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?
word count: 3.5k
a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.
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“Shit.”
You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?
Over the last few months, there’d been changes.
Some subtle and some not so subtle.
“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”
She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.
“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”
During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.
“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”
You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.
One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.
Not until now.
“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”
“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”
“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”
Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.
It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.
“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.
Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.
After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.
He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.
You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.
Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”
“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”
One stern glare from her had shut you right up.
“Fine.”
Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.
You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.
With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.
As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.
“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”
“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”
“You’re bigger!”
With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”
She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.
“You look different. I mean, you look great—”
“Ellie?”
“Yeah?”
“Just shut up and eat.”
“Deal.”
She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner. 
“You get your fractions homework done?”
“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”
Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”
“Sure.”
As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.
“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.
“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”
“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”
“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.
Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.
She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”
Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”
“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”
“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”
“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”
Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.
Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.
And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.
In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.
You bite back a small sigh.
By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.
“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”
“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”
You hear a chair scrape against the tile.
“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”
“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.
Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.
He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair. 
The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.
Uncomfortable.
Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.
“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”
“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?” 
He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”
You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”
Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.
“Mhm,” is all he says.
Your smile falters.
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It’s the middle of August.
The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.
“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”
He’s met with silence.
Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”
Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”
“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”
Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.
“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”
Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”
“Huh?”
“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”
Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”
“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”
“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.
“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten. 
“What are you afraid of?”
Joel almost laughs.
He doesn’t know where to start.
He’s afraid of everything.
“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”
“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”
“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”
“Joel—”
“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”
Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.
“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”
“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.
“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”
He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”
“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”
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Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home. 
“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.
“What does it fucking look like, man?”
“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”
Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.
“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”
Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”
Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.
He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.
He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.
He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.
Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.
Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.
He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.
The man you both needed.
Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?
He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.
“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”
“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice.
Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.
Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.
He waits.
And waits.
And waits.
And waits.
Until the minutes turn into hours.
Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains. 
Until he finally feels that little flutter again.
He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.
He’d just felt the baby’s movement.
There’s a sudden shift.
Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.
His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.
Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.
With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.
Maybe his brother’s right.
Maybe he will be just fine.
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divider credit to @saradika 🤍
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A good day made better when I was surprised with my preorder copy of Tears of the Kingdom a day earlier than the shipping notice said 😭 when I realized what was in the envelope I screamed in excitement and made my mom turn off the movie we were watching so we could start playing immediately 🩵🩵🩵 and what makes today even BETTER is that I’m also off tomorrow all day so I can play even more!!!
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jirai-kei-freak · 24 days
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why does it have to be this way
#Why#I was doing so good this past year#There were times I was literally crying tears of joy because I haven’t felt as happy as I was in years#Now shit’s coming back and I don’t like it#Every fucking time man#“Well life is supposed to have its ups and downs” HAVE YOUVE WENT THROUGH WHAT I WENT THROUGH#summer through all the way to the end of 2023 was one of two of the most miserable times I ever went through#I was almost never happy#Had cheap laughs for like 20 minutes then back to misery#There wasn’t a single day were I didn’t wish i was dead#Literally I would wake up and i immediately wanted to start crying#Thats how bad things were#You could see it in my face how lonely and miserable i was#I hadnt felt that empty for like a good few years since then#It was to the point where I thought there was never going to be light in my life ever again#I went through some fucked up shit and now im traumatized 10x more then i was before#The first day of school was a weak after some extremely traumatic stuff happened man#Then the new year started and everything was starting to get better#I started taking medication#I was much more happier#My self esteem boosted up#I started working on myself and became a better person#I dont think i ever had a period of my life where i felt THAT BETTER#Like I said i was crying because I had felt a massive weight lifted off my shoulders#It literally felt like i saw the light#I legitimately thought things were getting truly getting better#It’s just gonna be the same damn cycle over and over again huh?#For several months I feel depressed as shit#Then for a few months things start to clear up#Then suddenly and abruptly things go back to the shit
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cursingtoji · 5 months
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ᥫ᭡ 𝐬𝐨... 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰?
— where satoru comforts you after breaking up with toji
gojo being lowkey yandere, fem reader, toji is the ex, mentions of baby trapping, reader is older, gojo calls her senpai (almost as a mock), classroom smut, fingering, gojo has to wear a condom and he hates it, he’s also a bit pathetic and in love, reader is a bit of bitch. 4k (this was supposed to be drabble idk what happened)
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“i know what you’re thinking” gojo’s voice breaks the silence in the classroom where you were supposed to be grading papers but instead has been looking through the window for god knows how long now.
the sudden appearing happens after gojo catches your lost gaze on the field some of his students were training at. he saw your profile looking down at your desk, then after a few minutes you looked through the window until your eyes set on gojo’s protégée and the son of the man that broke your heart.
“but if you keep doing that megumi will get creeped out by you” gojo simply manifested in your classroom as soon as he realized you would stay in trance not even noticing your fellow teacher staring back at you from below.
“whatever, he never liked me anyways” you brush off, then remember what he said before, “and what the hell makes you think you know what i’m thinking?”
“ah, you forgot? i have an eye or six for this sorta thing” he points to his blindfold.
“you saying you can read minds now, you freak?” your relationship with satoru always had that dynamic. toji usually got very annoyed whenever he was in the same room as the two of you, he tried to pull you away or make an excuse for you two to go back to his place. deep down you knew he felt some type of way whenever you and satoru banter like that.
“please you’re so transparent i wonder how megumi haven’t seen it yet, i'm concerned that he might need glasses…”
“just say what you wanna say, satoru.”
gojo, on the other hand, didn’t need an instinct to see how jealous and possessive toji could be when he was around. all that gojo needed to say was one word to trigger the old man.
“every time you see megumi you think about him, don’t you?” he takes a step in your direction while you sink in your chair looking away, “senpai.”
gojo never showed respect for anyone, he was scolded several times by yaga because of it, utahime tried to hit him whenever she could, demanding formal treatment since she was his upperclassmen. but you, for whatever reason he decided, was the only one he used that honorific with.
“he’s his kid, of course i’ll—“
“ever since i heard about your breakup you’ve been acting like everything is fine, except for when you see megumi, then you frown,” gojo extends his index and taps the space between your eyebrows “and your cursed energy increases” he then sits on your desk looking down at you, “don’t tell me megumi had anything to do with why toji—“
“of course not” you stop him, although megumi was never fond of you, you know he’s a good kid and wouldn’t try to get in the way of your relationship with his father. as far as you know, he’s not particularly close to his old man either. actually, anything related to toji — bets, races, you — is automatically disregarded by him.
“then you gotta stop looking at him like he did something, or before you realize your energy towards him will become hostile and i can’t let that happen” gojo’s tone became more severe, it’s one of those rare times where he drops the playful persona in order to get serious. truthfully, megumi did nothing, but you can't unsee toji when you look at him, especially after seeing what your ex-boyfriend used to look like in the old days when he showed you some photos. it never occurred to you before, since you barely saw megumi anyways, you're not his sensei and in your free time you were with toji so there wasn't much time to get to know megumi since they don’t live together since the boy was five. you suppose gojo is right, pushing your hurt feelings away only makes them come out stronger when you see anything that reminds you of toji.
“that’s not gonna happen, i have my energy under control” you cross your arms, feeling exposed under gojo’s gaze even through the mask.
he stays quiet for a second, then his annoying tone is back.
“what did you even see in him anyways? he’s definitely not a good guy.”
“that’s rude, toji is—“
“did you think you could change him or something?”
“i— no, why—“
“from what megumi said he was cheap as fuck so it was definitely not the money” he rubs his chin.
“gojo, i swear—“
“was it the sex?”
you widen your eyes and close your mouth, not having a simple answer for that.
“jackpot” satoru whispers.
“fuck off, satoru” you raise from your seat but he raises too, blocking your way and trapping you against the black board and his body.
“you stayed with that guy for years just for the sex?” he has a mocking tone that makes your blood boil.
“no! and that’s none of your goddamn business.”
“and you’ve broken up, what? two months ago? you’ve been all this time without sex?” you raise your hand ready to slap his face or punch his nose but he sees your movements faster and catches your wrist, “don’t be like that senpai, your energy is getting hostile again” he takes all the time in the world lowering his blindfold and letting his hair fall down while staring at you with those freaking blue eyes, “although, on second thought i think that might be mmm… sexual frustration? it’s a color i never seen in you before” he grabs your wrist firmly.
“you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“oh but i do, senpai. i’m just wondering how you haven’t downloaded a dating app or tried to rub one off yet” gojo knows exactly which buttons to press to make you wanna stab him, or worst, make you wanna fuck him.
gojo gets closer to your face, so close you can smell his aftershave, and just the realization that it’s a different scent from the one you were so used to makes your heart ache and your clit throb.
“or did you?” he’s fast, gojo catches your phone on top of the table putting it right in front of your face to unlock then moving away from you to check it, “definitely no dating apps” you yell his name and try to snatch your phone back but he puts infinity on and you can’t reach him, “browser history?”
“satoru, you have no right, gimme that” your face is hot with shame.
“nothing either, well i suppose your camera roll…”
“no!”
“aha” he deactivates the invisible shield and right when you think you can retrieve your phone he turns you around, holding your arms behind your back and pressing your back against his chest, “is that what you use to get off?” he puts the phone in front of you, it’s opened in the gallery, more specifically in a part filled with lewd videos and photos.
“not bad, you could make some cash outta this” gojo puts his chin on your shoulder, playing a video which clearly was filmed by toji, his dick is getting in and out of you from behind, he gets a close look with the phone, his glistening dick shining under the flashlight while your pussy stretches to accommodate him. you press your legs together remembering the feeling, you’re not even struggling to get out of gojo’s hold by the time the video ends.
“you don’t need to get off by yourself, you know?” he smells your hair and kisses your ear, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
“that was forever ago” you reply, at the time you thought satoru was going to use that against you, just wait for an opportunity to drop that bomb on toji’s lap and proudly say he fucked his girlfriend before, but whatever image you had of him back then was proved wrong since no one knows about your little escape with gojo till this very day.
“and wasn’t it good? huh?” he presses, sucking the spot on your neck that has you throwing your head back.
“yeah, it was” you confess, too sensible from the light touches to rethink your answers.
“see? i can make you feel good so you don’t become a little monster” he trails his hand on your thigh, pushing your skirt up until he finds your underwear, playing with the hem to tease you then pressing a finger on your clit.
“so charitable of you” you mumble sarcastically.
“i would gladly do this favor to you” he replies in the same tone, “even though you still own me.”
“for what?!” you close your legs around his hand turning your head around to look him in the face, not even considering a world where satoru did you any favors.
“for raising your boyfriend’s son? you really think you would’ve had a sex life with an eight year old summoning pets around the house?” he raises an eyebrow.
“don’t pretend like you did that out of the goodness in your heart, if megumi didn’t have the ten shadows you wouldn’t have bat an eye if toji sold him to the zenin’s or whomever.”
“you sound just like him” gojo’s eyes get darker, now he has your clit slowly rolling between his thumb and index over your underwear.
“besides— hng i came in the picture years after you took megumi… so don’t blame me” you wiggle your ass on his crotch.
“a ‘thank you my favourite kohai’ wouldn’t hurt” you sincerely laugh at that, never thinking of satoru as your underclassmen since that fucking minx is everyone’s exception on their cursed technique due to how powerful he is, so him being below you somehow was never a posibility, at least not strength wide.
satoru pushes your underwear to the side, rubbing the wetness all over your pussy and teasing your entrance.
“five years” you murmur as he inserts a finger then pulls it back to join his middle one too and go back in.
“hm?” satoru gets quieter, after talking so much and having so many things to say you’re surprised he stayed silent for a whole minute.
“last time you fucked me, it was five years ago” you get comfortable on his hold, his leg is between yours, serving as support for you to lean on while he scissors you.
“that long huh…” he sounds… sad? no, maybe nostalgic.
“crazy, right? so much has—“ you sigh when he curls his fingers, “changed.”
satoru take a long sniff of your hair, keeping a pleasing rhythm with his hand, it feels like giving someone a massage. he could go crazy and have you stripped out of your uniform a while ago, fucked you on your desk and left after marking your body and giving your ass a mean slap.
he could still do that, but whatever feeling bloomed in his chest has him enjoying this moment with you in his hold, stroking your insides and smelling your shampoo while discreetly rocking his hips on your behind for some relief.
he almost feels sleepy, the relaxed state has his mind going other places. he thinks of a world where he can tease you under your uniform every other day, you would tell him the school is no such a place for that then the day ends and you go home with him, holding hands, and finally when you arrive home he gets to finish what he started. then, he cooks whatever quick meal he can find the ingredients for since he knows you don't like to cook, afterwards you fall asleep on his lap on the couch as he strokes your hair, your belly is full, your heart is warm, you feel loved and he feels—
“toru~” he comes out of the trance he fell at when you call for him, he thinks for a second you were calling his name cause you felt he was off, but in reality you were calling him cause you are getting close, “right there” your breathy moans makes gojo smile and kiss your temple.
“where? here?” he pretends to not know, when the truth is he never actually forgot after your first time together, “right here, senpai?”
“y-yeah” you throw your head back, shutting your eyes to give in to the orgasm. gojo looks down at your pretty face, he feels the urge to kiss you right now, but he wants you to ask for it first. your walls clench around his fingers, he strokes that spot sweetly, like he's caressing a pet.
which is an ironic comparison since he’s the one that would gladly accept being your pet.
when you open your eyes gojo is staring at you silently through half lid eyes, it is truly a shame that he keeps those hidden for so long.
“desk, now” you demand needly.
“yes ma'am” gojo picks you up easily, moving the papers on top of the table to the floor.
you immediately go for his belt, choosing not to comment on the wet spot on his pants.
you feel a pressure on your chin as he guides your head up to look at him.
“ask me” he pleads.
“for what?”
“for a kiss” you smile, looking at his lips and how inviting they look. you ponder if you should tease him for it, since he's been teasing you with words a lot today, but then you chose to comply, despite going through your phone without our permission and claiming your frustration comes from lack of dick, he's actually being good to you.
“gimme a kiss” you raise your chin higher, he gazes at your lips and eyes, looking for something other than lust, yet he gives in, sealing your lips with his trying to keep his mind away from thinking of the man that had your lips previous to him. and how dumb that motherfucker is to let you go.
gojo's lips are soft, he starts gently which feels foreign to you, but it doesn't take long before his hand presses your lower back, pulling you closer until his cock hits your clothed cunt. the warmth he feels is enough to relish the passion in him, he kisses you harder, tongue intruding your mouth like he's trying to devour you.
the wet kiss also awakens your urge for him, you pull his cock from his underwear in the tiny space between his and your crotch, the second it's out it's already against your folds, the leaking tip hot against your skin.
“nuh-uh you better have a rubber” you push your knee onto gojo’s pelvis when he starts to rub himself on you to spread your wetness on his shaft.
“did you make toji wear one too?” he raises a questionable eyebrow at you, willing to bet all his heritage on the answer.
“he had to earn that privilege” you reach for gojo’s wallet, not failing to notice the black cards and considerable amount of cash, “i don’t know what you do after 6 so…” you take the packs, ripping it open yourself and rolling on him. with a face and body like his you doubt gojo spends most nights by himself.
“unbelievable…”
“satoru” you warn stroking him slowly, “can i get another kiss?” you bat your lashes. gojo comes closer, his nose even touches yours, then you feel his hands on your waist, turning you around till your elbows and chest are against the table and your skirt is being flipped over, underwear pushed down.
“you have to earn it, senpai” he spits the words against your ear as he pushes his dick into you. until a few moments ago, satoru was composed, happy to accept whatever crumbles you chose to give him. you managed to trigger him by saying toji still had something he couldn't have.
he's still gonna go through this — that's how whipped he is for you — though now he’ll be less gentle.
his cockhead hits your spot, nothing accidental of course, satoru knows your spots like the back of his hand. you whine and arch your back, satoru pouts realizing he won't get to suck some hickeys on the skin of your back and shoulder, not now at least, but the night is young.
“c'mon satoru, don't be like that” you look over your shoulder, licking your lips at the sight of him sweaty, flushed and frowny.
the sound of his name in your voice makes him want to cum on the spot, he dips his head on your neck sighing, not stopping thrusting your behind. he wanted to feel you so badly, why the fuck did you make him wear a condom? he's clean, of course he is, he's gojo satoru for heaven's sake! even viruses are afraid of him.
or was it something else you feared?
“hey… you on the pill?” he lifts his head slightly, his voice still muffled by the material of your dress.
“you’re not fucking me raw, satoru.”
“just wondering… you said you didnt wear a condom with him, so what kept you from getting knocked up?” he wiggles his hand between you and the surface of your table till hes palming your belly.
“you keep bringing toji up a lot, obsessed much?” you tease him, avoiding the answer, gojo pinches your clit.
“please, he wishes. now tell me. iud? implant? injections?” you push him away turning around then pulling him back.
“okay, you clearly had sex ed classes, now shut up and fuck me right” gojo takes your leg and places on his shoulder, you bite your fist to contain your moan, the new position makes easier for him to nudge your clit with his pelvis.
“i could be fucking you better, you know how?” he bites the skin of your leg, not harshly but enough to make you yelp, he smiles, giving a particular hard thrust that makes your eyes roll.
“condom stay on, satoru, i can’t risk getting preg—“ you slap your mouth. satoru stops.
“you’re not… on anything?”
“listen you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” you cover your face, “i had a pregnancy scare a few years ago so… gosh why am i even telling you this…”
“go on” gojo massages your thigh.
“toji got a vasectomy. birth control wasn’t working for me anymore and it was only a matter of time before— well it doesn't matter. you can see why you have to use it right?” you place your elbows on the table, sitting up enough to see the look on his face, it’s not what your expected to see.
satoru looks like a child that just found out where his parents keep all the sweets. he’s grinning, dick throbbing.
“yeah, i see now” he bends, holding your neck and kissing you, he makes the kiss feel like a ‘thank you for trusting me’ but if this was a cartoon his shadow would have horns and a pointy tail.
all he can think now is exactly how to make you his, he can sweet talk you into allowing him to hit it raw, promising to pull it out, then… whoopsie.
the new discovery gives him a different kind of stamina.
“don’t worry, your secret is safe with me” he kisses your cheek after leaving you breathless.
he plunges in and out, a rhythm that has you seeing stars. gojo craves you so much, he’s quite bothered by all the clothes and the need to keep it down, otherwise he would have torn your dress apart and have you screaming by now.
“fuck— keep doing that” you run your nails on his undercut, gojo mewls and take your other leg, pushing it further to go deeper. he sees the white ring around his cock, getting high on the sigh of it combined with your pussy illuminated by the natural light coming from the window behind him.
he wonders if toji ever fucked you in a classroom like this, then he shakes his head, not allowing the image to form in his mind, instead he focus on you, and how your pretty face contorts as your orgasm approaches once again.
“so fucking pretty” he whispers quietly.
you attempt to lower your legs. feeling it’s gonna be too much.
“nuh-uh keep them here” he pushes back, “so tight” he closes his eyes.
you’re a moaning mess at this point, almost forgetting where you are.
“that’s right, let it go baby” your legs shake as your orgasm hits you, satoru can see the shape of your cursed energy peaking then getting softer.
he fucks you a little more, trying not to think about the condom trapping his dream of knocking you up.
god, you would look so fucking gorgeous carrying his baby, all round up for him to showcase around. he would do anything for you, you wouldn’t have to lift a finger.
if only…
“fuck“ he fucks his load — into the condom unfortunately.
after the initial high goes away he starts to hear his students asking where he went and why he’s taking so long, “wait here, i’ll take you home.”
“you don’t have to” you smile, poking his cheek.
“oh i do, i’m not done with you” he takes your hand from his nape and gives it a kiss before pulling out and throwing that despicable rubber into the bin, making a mental note to empty that bin outside where the evidence of what happened between two teachers is not so easily discoverable.
you sit up adjusting your dress and looking around, “did you see my…”
“nope” gojo leaves the classroom pushing the material of your panties further into his pocket.
gojo had the weekend of his dreams, he convinced you to stay in his place that night and the next one too, he rubbed your sore legs after you came so much you were spasming then made you breakfast, it almost made him believe of a happy ending for the two of you.
a dream that was shattered when, a few days later you returned from a mission and stood by the entrance of the school kissing… toji.
gojo watches the scene from above, a frown on his face.
“yeah i was surprised too” he almost forgot that megumi was with him, “thought she finally created some sense” he confesses.
gojo doesn’t say anything, he watches silently as you tiptoe to kiss toji, the fucker doesn’t even hold you right, he keeps his hand in his pockets and lets you with all the effort.
“meet you in the classroom in five” gojo disappears from megumi’s sight.
on your way to report your mission to yaga you see satoru leaning against a tree. you say his name in a surprised manner, not having prepared what to tell him beforehand.
“listen, i— hm… i thought you should know that toji and i are back, so—”
“did you tell him?” his arms are crossed.
“about… us? of course not.”
“why? don’t you think he should know?” you hear the challenge in his tone.
“no, and you’re not gonna say a word to him either” you step closer to him, trying to look intimidating which can be difficult due to the height difference, “may i remind you that between the three of us there’s a teen boy who would not appreciate the drama.”
“look at you, using fushiguro as an scapegoat” he smiles at the look of anger forming on your features, “it’s fine, i’m just a bit surprised at how quick you were to go back to him, that’s all.”
“let’s be real, satoru. it’s not like you were going to take me on a date or anything” gojo pulls you by your wrist, your body hits his, the sudden proximity has your eyes widening, anyone could see you and take the wrong conclusion. i mean, it wouldn’t be wrong but you didn’t want any conclusions to be taken for that matter.
“this is not going to be the last time and i don’t give a damn if you’re dating him or married or widowed.”
“satoru!” you shout his name in a whisper, immediately rejecting the idea of becoming a widow.
“you can tell toji or not, i don’t mind fighting him” he pushes himself out of the tree and past you. megumi is grown now, of course he still needs a lot of coaching regarding his skills, but emotionally speaking, he’s been a grown up since he was six.
before going to his classroom as promised, he teleports himself to yours, picking up the bouquet he left at your desk then teleporting to the fountain across the campus where he rips the paper that holds the flowers together and lets it all fall into the water.
satoru watches it for a moment, hurt but still decided to go through with his plan.
he wonders what would you tell toji if you got pregnant, maybe you could convince him the child is his, a miracle. then when the kid comes out with white hair and blue eyes you’ll have no choice other than be with him, the father of your child, the man who truly loves you. gojo satoru.
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fangswbenefits · 10 months
Text
Tracking
𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You find out Miguel has been tracking something that concerns you… and him.
𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. Breeding kink. Period talk. Miguel going all scientific and keeping track of fertility windows for maximum efficacy. Dry humping. Inspired by this ask.
Miguel was in a bad mood that afternoon. You could see it coming a mile off, because having spent that much time around him over the past years had revealed many warning signs.
The circular platform was lowered all the way down to the floor by the time you walked past the door.
Miguel not turning to acknowledge your presence was warning sign number one.
You strode up to it warily, as if expecting him to explode at any given moment. Trying to lighten the mood, you tip toed to place a sweet kiss to his cheek.
He grumbled in response.
Warning sign number two.
His eyes were fixed on the multiple of screen sprawled in a half-moon in front of him, occasionally tapping and moving them around when needed.
“Someone’s in a good mood,” you teased.
“I’m nearly done here.”
“Hello to you, too, grumpy,” you nudged his arm with a smile.
Miguel merely nodded.
Warning sign number three.
At this point, you figured something was definitely going on.
“What’s up?”
“Hmm?”
You sighed. “You look and sound off.”
He tapped on a screen to his left. “You’re on your period.”
“What?”
Usually, that sort of remark would earn any man a slap at worst or a ‘fuck you’ at best. There was no shortage of men who would use women’s hormones as an easy way to deflect their feelings.
But there was something in Miguel’s tone that resembled… disappointment?
He scowled deeply, turning to face you. “You’re not pregnant.”
You stared at him for a long time, before bursting into laughter. “Is that why you’re all grumpy?”
“Oh, you think this is funny?” Miguel’s eyes narrowed, his scowl deepening.
You stopped at once. “Wait… how would you know that?”
He returned his attention to the hovering screens in front of him. “Know what?”
“That I’m on my period?” you asked, suspicion rising inside you. “And I still haven’t gotten it, by the way.”
And just like that, Miguel’s crimson eyes were on you expectantly. “Why didn’t you tell me right away?”
You folded your arms while tapping your foot lightly. “No. You answer me first.”
Miguel knew better than to antagonise you, especially now that you had information that interested him.
Dragging his index finger across the panel, you saw a file pop up with your name. That didn’t seem odd at all. Every spider in Nueva York was required to have one that displayed several strategic details as well as bio data that was fed by the dimensional travel watch. Your heart rate was at a steady 67 beats per minute.
“What about it?”
He tapped on a second tab that read ‘Fertility’.
Nothing could have prepared you for the influx of information you were about to be bombarded with.
And what it concerned.
July 4th
Cycle day 1 - low chance of pregnancy
Fertility window - 12 to 18
Ovulation day - 17 (high chances of pregnancy)
“You’re tracking my period?!” you snapped in utter disbelief.
“I’m tracking your fertility window.”
You glared at him. “How is that any different?”
“It’s not. Just nomenclature,” he shrugged casually as if talking about the change of weather outside.
You shot Miguel a death glare, before shoving him to the side, gaining full access to the flickering orange screen. The data collected went back as far as three months ago.
Miguel had been tracking your fertility window for months now.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shifted to stand behind you, easily towering with his impressive height. “It’s my responsibility to get you pregnant.”
Your eyes widened partially in disbelief, but mostly at the realisation that this shouldn’t be a shocking revelation.
Miguel had to be in control at all times. It was embedded in his genetic code. A few months ago you had casually joked that you wouldn’t mind having a child soon.
It seemed that it was all the motivation he needed to begin his quest.
Now it made perfect sense why he had been so insistent on always cumming inside you. You just didn’t think he would be this dedicated.
Joke’s on you.
“But it seems the data is wrong,” he said lowly, arms circling around you to have his hands atop yours on the keyboard. “You can edit it,” he whispered, pressing himself fully against you.
The added pressure pushed your lower half gently against the control table, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.
“Are you trying to seduce me, so I ignore all of this?” you whispered, enjoying how the proximity was having a noticeable effect on his cock.
He rolled against you slowly. “Me? Of course not.”
His fingers intertwined with yours, and you watched your heart rate on the screen soar to 78 beats per minutes.
You fought back a whimper, as he was nipping at your neck, fangs lightly poking at sensitive skin. You could feel the hard print of his cock pressed against the curve of your ass, and as you bucked your hips instinctively, you felt his own meet you halfway, setting a slow rhythm.
90 beats per minute.
“Let me get a blood sample so I can test out,” he said, his erection pressed against your ass.
“Someone really wants to be a dad,” you said with a teasing smile.
99 beats per minute.
His other hand came to grip your jaw, tilting your head until you met his eyes. “I need you to get pregnant.”
Your breath was coming out in shallow pants as he kept humping you at a steady and torturous pace.
“You mean… you need to breed me, right?”
109 beats per minute.
His eyeds widened lightly and he thrusted harshly into you, causing a jolt of pleasure to travel all the way down to your clit. “That’s the same thing, cariño.”
You gave him a knowing smile. “Nomenclature and all that.”
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Masterlist
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theemissuniverse · 6 months
Text
MK 1 MEN REALIZE YOU’RE TOUCH STARVED
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SUMMARY : Basically they’ve been super busy so they hadn’t been worried about sex until they realize how needy you really are. Fem reader.
WARNINGS : (MDNI)! praise, unsafe p in v, riding, cumming, some other stuff I probably forgot
MASTERLIST
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LIU KANG
You were practically starving for intimacy. Your boyfriend, Liu Kang had his hands full with Earthrealm itself and you couldn’t even help him.
Liu Kang had forbid you to get involved in Earthrealm business because in the previous timeline, when Raiden brought you in it you had died. So, he wanted you to continue your normal life.
Though, Liu Kang made sure you were a worthy fighter just by the chance that maybe one of his enemies would try and hurt you. You would know how to defend yourself.
It had been weeks, close to a month. Liu Kang was there emotionally but was not there physically. You knew he was busy but god, did you think he wasn’t attracted to you anymore.
You were reading your book in the living room when you heard the door open. You didn’t bother to look up because you knew it was Liu Kang.
Liu Kang locked the door behind him. “Good evening, my love.” He walked over to you and gave you a kiss on the head. “How was your day?”
“Great until you got here.”
You were a very sarcastic individual so Liu Kang just took it as a sign that you were being sarcastic. Liu Kang sat beside you. “Did you eat today?”
Trying not to be annoyed was hard but you were so frustrated that you couldn’t hold it in. You slammed your book shut and got up from the couch. “I can’t even read a book in my own home.” You marched to your room.
Liu Kang now understood you were angry at him. He just didn’t understand why.
When you walked in the room, you shut the door and locked it. Then you turned around and there you faced the Fire God himself. You jumped back, startled. “I hate when you do that.”
“(Y/N), if I’ve done something wrong then you need to open up. We talked about this.”
That was true. Liu Kang did talk to you about you opening up more to him and communicating with him. It was just hard for you because you never really liked talking about your feelings. Especially embarrassing ones.
You sighed and placed the book on your dresser. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you. I’m just…frustrated.”
Liu Kang gently took your hands in his. “Whatever it is, we can face it together. Tell me what has you so frustrated.”
You bit your lip, not wanting to even look at him. “It’s just…you haven’t really…” You trailed off. Lucky and unlucky for you, Liu Kang was a patient man and he waited for you to say it. “You know…and I just feel touch starved.”
Liu Kang now understood what you meant and he could only smile. “I’m sorry, my love. I did not mean to. I am God and because I’ve been alive for so long, I don’t really have the physical needs as you do.” He brought you closer to his warmth. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you.” Liu Kang gave you a sweet kiss on the lips. “Next time, just ask.”
You smiled shyly. “It’s embarrassing to ask…”
“You should feel comfortable to ask me.”
“Well technically you’re the one that made me so uncomfortable, creator so who’s really at fault here? So ha!”
Liu Kang shook his head and gave you a kiss on the forehead. “You, my one and only, are so strange.”
You were in a panting mess. Liu Kang was on top of you while you laid on your back. Your moans were uncontrollable and you were mad at him again for making you wait so long to feel like this.
Liu Kang watched you pant and he was mad at himself that he made you wait so long to feel this good.
Having sex with a god was always more pleasurable because well, he was a god. It was so much easier to get you to cum. It only took three minutes. Sometimes even two.
“Keep going, love. You’re almost there.” Liu Kang told you.
You made short breaths out as you were close to your release. You felt all around Liu Kang’s chest trying to hold onto something. “Oh, god. Oh Liu. I can’t.”
Liu Kang kissed your lips. He knew that sex with him was ten times more pleasure able than if he were human. “Breathe in and out, my love.” He watched as you took some breaths in and out. He caressed the left side of your face. “You’re doing so good.”
You felt your release close. “I’m so close. Please.”
“I got you.” Liu Kang held onto your thighs and continued to go at his slow and hard pace. “Cum on me, my love.”
You felt the wave of your orgasm wash all over you. Liu Kang didn’t stop until you had came over him completely.
He pulled out of you. Then leaned down to kiss you on your lips. His lips then went to your neck and your shoulder. “Never make me wait that long again.” You told him.
Liu Kang chuckled against kissing your skin. “I won’t, lovely.”
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JOHNNY CAGE
You never thought in your life span that you would crave for Johnny Cage but you did. He was your boyfriend now so you should’ve been used to the feeling.
But it had been a whole week. A week that Johnny did not have intimacy with you which you found to be extremely weird. I mean you two would have sex at least five times a week so you could not believe he wasn’t on you.
You had to be the stay at home girlfriend while he made his new movie. You couldn’t even stand being around him anymore because that’s how touch starved you were.
But you were not going to initiate it because he always initiated it and you were not going to give him the satisfaction of how badly you wanted him.
You couldn’t hide your attitude towards him.
You finished making dinner. Johnny was back from work. “Babe! I’m back! It actually was better than yesterday.” He came into the kitchen and set his things on the counter.
Johnny came up behind you and hugged you. He kissed your cheek. “Damn you look hot cooking.”
Yup. You couldn’t hold your attitude back. You pushed his arms off of you. “Clearly, I don’t.” You mumbled under your breath.
He heard you though. He was confused. Of course you were. You were the hottest girl he knew. “What are you talking about, babe?”
You walked away from the stove and got out plates. You set them on the counter. “There’s dinner. I’m gonna take a nap.”
You walked into the bedroom and were about to close the door behind you but Johnny was too fast for you.
Johnny forced the door open and you rolled your eyes at him. You started walking over towards the bed, fixing the sheets while he stood in the doorway. “What’s up with you? Did I do something?”
“It’s what you didn’t do.”
Johnny looked at you completely confused. You were mad that he didn’t do something? “Baby, you gotta help me out here because I’m lost.”
You angrily folded the sheets before turning to look at him. “Are you cheating on me?”
Johnny’s eyes went wide at the accusation. “What?” He stepped closer in the room to close some of the distance. “(Y/N), I’m not cheating on you. What could possibly make you think that?”
You scoffed at him and you turned your attention back on the bed. “I highly doubt that thee Johnny Cage can go a week without having sex.”
That’s when Johnny put the puzzle pieces together. He laughed a little. “Babe, seriously?” He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. “Aw, I knew you wanted some of this Johnny Cage.”
You rolled your eyes and pushed him off of you. “No. I don’t. I’m just stating it’s weird.”
“(Y/N), I’ve just been busy with the movie. Nothing weird has been going on. I promise.” He went back behind you and wrapped his arms once again around you. He started to kiss your neck. “If you wanted me, you could’ve just said something.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s embarrassing.”
Johnny turned you around so you were facing him. He gave you an amused look. “Oh? So it’s embarrassing when I ask you all the time?”
You crossed your arms at him. “That’s different. You’re a man.”
“(Y/N). Just get your sexy ass in the bed.”
He watched you as you could barely ride him. It amused him a little. You were begging to have him but you were in too much pleasure to ride him the way you wanted.
Johnny didn’t have his hands on you as he wanted to see how far you could go without needing any help.
It wasn’t long.
“Oh my god. Johnny, I can’t.”
“You wanted this babe. You gotta ride me yourself.” He said smugly. He rubbed your nipples a little causing you to moan. “You tell me you love me though and I’ll help you.”
“I love you. I love you so much. Please. It feels too good.”
Johnny chuckled and grabbed onto your hips. He then started to move you up and down at a good fast pace. You weren’t doing any work. “I love you too, baby.”
You moaned loudly feeling your clit constantly hit him over and over again. “Yes. Please.”
Johnny let out a grunt at the new pace and your moans combined. “Damn I missed this.” His right hand traveled lower to smack your ass and then went back to your hip. “I’m never missing out on this again.”
Your hands were on his chest as you rode him. You felt yourself starting to inch close to your release. “I’m almost there. Oh shit. Yes.”
“Come on, baby. Cum on me. You can do it.”
His words made you lose it. You threw your head back. “I’m cumming. Oh god, Johnny.”
Johnny groaned as he felt you cum on him. He helped your ride out your entire orgasm. “There you go. I knew you could do it.”
You tried to control your panting as you sat on him. You didn’t make him pull out on you.
When he saw this, he rubbed your hips gently. “You alright, babe?”
You nodded. You leaned to kiss him on the lips and then you went back to riding his dick again. He moaned. “I want more.”
Johnny had no complaints.
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RAIDEN
With Raiden being Earthrealm’s champion it made him quite busy. You didn’t like it. He didn’t have any time for you and you were getting quite touch starved. It had been two weeks.
You were even more pissed when you found out that he was in Outworld helping Princess Kitana with something. Oh, that enraged you.
You were jealous. I mean, Kitana was a princess and you were just some Earthrealmer. You couldn’t really compete with that.
Washing the dishes, Raiden walked into the house. “I’m so glad to be home.” He walked to where you were at and kissed you on the cheek. “Hello, my heart.” He started to rub your back soothingly. “I missed you.”
“Go miss Kitana.” You told him bluntly and pushed him off of you.
He looked at you very confused. Raiden turned off the water and forced you to look at him. “What are you talking about, (Y/N)?”
You sighed a little, feeling bad that you were rude to him. “Nothing.”
“Is something troubling you? You know you can always talk to me.”
You bit your lip, slightly embarrassed at what you were going to say. “It’s just…you haven’t been around to…” Raiden waited patiently to hear you. “Make love with me and I feel like all your attention is on Kitana.”
“Oh, my heart.” Raiden lifted your chin up and gave you a kiss on the lips. “Trust me, I would spend all my time with you if I could but Lord Liu Kang has me going on missions that pertain to Outworld.” Raiden started to kiss your neck with sweet kisses. “I would make love to you every day if I could.”
You sighed happily at the kisses that were being placed on your neck. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so snippy with you.”
Raiden shook his head as he faced you. “You’re frustrated. I understand. Allow me to make you feel better.”
Raiden was eating you out as you laid on your back, his head between your thighs. You tugged on his hair. He licked all the right places and sucked on your clit greedily.
You moaned loudly. His hands were on your thighs and he continued to eat you out like you were his last meal. One thing about Raiden was that he knew how to eat pussy.
“Raiden. Yes. Oh god.”
He lifted his head from your pussy and licked his fingers. He then placed the fingers on your clit and started to rub it in circles.
You moaned louder and played with your breasts. Raiden watched you and licked his lips as he saw you throw your head back.
Raiden leaned over and kissed you on the lips, making you taste yourself. He wasn’t really a big tongue kisser but when he was horny, Raiden was the best tongue kisser in the world.
He licked the bottom of your lip before licking all over in the inside of your mouth. You moaned and tried to use your own tongue but when you did, Raiden wrapped his lips around it and sucked all over it.
You moaned incoherent nonsense and Raiden pulled away. “You look so pretty like this.”
The circles on your clit didn’t stop. You rubbed all over his chest. “Raiden please. I’m so close.”
When you said that, Raiden kissed you one last time. “I can’t wait to taste all of you in my mouth.”
Raiden went back between your legs and ate you out again. You moaned at the harsh licks and the way he sucked on your clit at a steady pace.
“Raiden. Oh god. Raiden. I’m cumming.”
He ate you out through out the entirety of your orgasm. Even to the point when you were done. You tried to push him off of you. “Too sensitive.”
Raiden came up from pussy and kissed you on your breasts. “Come on, love. You can’t give me one more?”
You couldn’t help but give in to Raiden’s words. You nodded and he smiled before going back down on you.
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soundlessdreamss · 3 months
Note
Can I have a Lucifer vs Alastor fighting for the reader romantically, please if possible yanderes...
Lovely riddance
part two
pairings: y!alastor x reader & y!lucifer x reader
Note: reader will be a fallen angel for this! (Also this is prolly ooc)
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You were a normal sinner (totally a sinner and not a fallen angel) living in hell you were in hell because of you questioning heaven which led to them throwing you down here… but you realized how different the other people in hell were compared to you. it just made you feel very weird, a total standout!
it made you miss heaven. A lot. Since you had made so many friends there and now you just lost it all. Well not all of it to be exact, your old friend Lucifer is the king of hell because he was the first one to rebel against heaven. You admired him for being so fearless against heaven themselves.
as you were in your own thoughts on the street of hell suddenly you passed by a poster that snapped you back to your senses. You suddenly scooted back to the poster and read it “want to be redeemed so you can live a gorgeous life in heaven? Well visit the hazbin hotel and let yourself be purified!” Oh my god. This could be your chance to meet other people like you! You decided to fly over there since the other angels didn’t rip off your wings when you fell down.
after like 69 minutes of flying (lol) you finally made it to the hotel! You couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious though, what would they think about you? Would they make fun of you? Would they humiliate you if you did one thing wrong- no you couldn’t let that stop you. This could be your chance to find your friends in heaven again. You knocked on the hotel door and waited for a response. It felt like it was taking forever until a blonde haired girl opened the door. (It only took 3 seconds for them to open the door but okay.)
she nearly screamed out of joy when she realized someone actually came to the hotel to be redeemed. She gave you a hug and welcomed you into the hotel where all the people there introduced themselves. There was Charlie, Vaggie, Angel dusk, Husk, Nifty, (nifty is a cutie) and a snake who you didn’t bother remembering his name cause it was too long. (Totally not an excuse to not have to write his name)
you almost choked though when Charlie said her last name was Morningstar, like Morningstar as in Lucifer Morningstar? She was his daughter?! You had no idea him and Lilith had a child but you felt happy for them. Not until she told you her mom left her 7 years ago. (Lol)
To your surprise (and relief) they accepted you and treated you nicely. And you recognized Vaggie but didn’t out her because you had a feeling that she didn’t want that to happen and you respected her.
All of a sudden a man just teleported out of the floor and tapped you on your back which made you scream so loud. He chuckled and said not to worry as it was him, the radio demon! And he also introduced himself as Alastor. He grabbed your hand and kissed it which made you a bit confused but you rolled with it. Over the couple of days you had spent there you bonded really well with all of them, but alastor specifically wanted to spend a lot of time with you.
he often invited you to brunch, dinner, and to help him work on the hotel. Had you caught his eye? Maybe… maybe you had caught his eye more than you thought you did. (He also may or may not be planning to make a deal for your soul.)
timeskip to when Charlie invited her dad over. ——————————————————————————————————————
you had all prepared for the place to look nice since the king of hell was coming to visit! Aka Charlie’s dad, and you wanted to make a good impression on him after you haven’t seen eachother for such a long time. He seemed happy that his daughter was inviting him over based on the tone of his voice when Charlie called.
You guys all got in position and Charlie was about to open the door until Lucifer barged in and greeted his daughter with a bear hug! He looked around the place awkwardly after and Charlie introduced him to everyone in the hotel. He stared at you for a couple of seconds not knowing if it was really you. He was about to speak to you until alastor teleported right next to you.
Alastor put his hand on your shoulder and had a death grip on it. Like he didn’t want Lucifer to even be near you. They both introduced themselves to each other and as they were talking about the hotel ideas, Alastor pointed out a thing you did for the hotel which helped them a lot. He brought your face to his as he put his hand around your neck pulling you closer. Your face was squished with his. He only did this though to simply piss Lucifer off and trick him into thinking that he had got to you first and that you guys have a deep connection.
as you pulled yourself away from him and looked at the two it suddenly felt as if there was an intense aura in the room all of a sudden. You laughed nervously and tried to excuse yourself before Lucifer grabbed your hand.
he was nervous and tried to compose himself to talk to you as it had been so long since you two had talked. Wtf was he even suppose to say? He decided to finally speak after an agonizing 5 seconds.
Lucifer: “oh [reader]… it’s been so long since we’ve last seen eachother! How have you been doll?”
[reader] : “oh I’ve been just fine. Well despite the fact that heaven kicked me out, it feels better here. Like I can actually breathe in this place.”
Lucifer: “good to hear. Would you mind visiting my palace sometime? Id like to show you some of my latest creations, especially one I made just for you!”
his smile became wider and his eyes seemed more sincere like he really wanted you to visit. I mean after all you guys haven’t seen eachother in eons!
before you could reply to his offer, Alastor grabbed your other hand and yanked you away as he chuckled.
Alastor: “I’m sure they would love to visit you sometime, but they’re busy with me today as I invited her to dinner and they accepted. Didn’t you dear?”
you suddenly remembered that you and Alastor were gonna go out for dinner tonight and you nodded your head.
[reader] : oh that’s actually right! I totally forgot about that for a minute. Well Lucifer would you like me to visit anytime I’m free if that’s okay?
Lucifer: oh, that’s just fine! Just try to make it soon cause I can not wait to spend time with you again!
his smile faded a bit and he seemed to give a glare to Alastor. In response Alastor simply had a wide smile as he continued to hold your hand after yanking away Lucifer’s.
After the argument with Lucifer and Alastor over Charlie was done.
───────────────────────
Finally everyone calmed down after they argued over who Charlie preferred as a dad. Thank god Mimzy barged through the door before another fight broke loose. After a couple minutes Alastor decided to tell everyone you and him would be leaving for dinner about now, you thought it was later but alright!
as you guys left through the door to go to your favorite restaurant, Alastor couldn’t help but giggle feeling Lucifer’s eyes burning a hole through him. He knew it pissed him off and he was glad that it did. And little did you or Lucifer know the Alastor was making more and more progress to his plan. His plan was to woo you enough so that you’d made a deal with him for your soul.
of course you’d get benefits aswell! Alastor would be at your every beck and call and you would do the same for him. It would just be a matter of time before he proposed the idea to you. He just hopes a certain someone wouldn’t mess it up.
part two coming soon…
note: hiii to everyone who read this, I’d like to thank you all for all the likes on my previous two posts! I’m going to be working on part two sooner or later. Also sorry is this is a bit ooc, I’m new to writing fanfics and tried to make alastor manipulative like he is in the show. :)
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retroellie · 1 year
Text
Twisted Game
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Summary: After the prison collapses, you and Daryl are stuck on the road. After chugging down some moonshine a game of "Never have i ever" turns into a night you'll never forget.
A/N: I've had this in my drafts for weeks, i finished it up all today so it might be choppy. But this shit was the horniess thing i have ever written God damn. Also, the way this gif has a choke hold on me, HIS TUMMY, i simply cannot.
Warnings: NSFW, Loss of virginity, unprotected sex, Oral sex, dirty talk and squirting
Word count: 6.9K
“So you understand the game now?” You asked the man sitting across from you.
He gave you a look, blue eyes boring into your skin as you raised your brow to him. You had butterflies in your stomach, whether that was because you were sitting across from a beautiful man or it was the moonshine kicking In. He hesitated, knowing this game could end up in hurt feelings or you being completely grossed out about his redneck life. Opening up to people wasn’t Daryl’s strong suit.
“Fine…” he mumbled.
You guys had been on the road for days, only stopping to set up camp to rest and cook your squirrels or whatever Daryl had hunted for y’all. You missed your family, your family that you wouldn’t even look at twice before all this but yet they were the closest people to you. Daryl was unfortunately a part of that little family but he made you feel like a burden, he was never your favorite person ever but at this moment he was.
He was the only one left to you, he was the only person left of your entire fucked up family you had. You had broken down so many times, crying at night hoping Daryl didn’t hear… he always did. He wasn’t too good at feelings so he never said anything but he wanted to. But here y’all were now, sipping on moonshine after Daryl had picked it out for you. He thought maybe it would take your mind off things… if it ever will be taken off your mind.
“Okay great!! I’ll start!” You said, smiling wildly as you thought about what you’d say.
You were usually well reserved, never really opening up to anyone but carol and maybe Rick at times. But you were tipsy, the moonshine burning low into your stomach and you were let loose. If someone were to tell you that you would be in an abandoned trailer with moonshine in your hand next to a pretty redneck?? You’d laugh in their face.
“I’ve never…. Drank before… I mean besides this.” You said, smirking over at Daryl.
Daryl rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his moonshine before putting it back down. It amazed you how he didn’t even make a face when he downed it, he’s definitely used to drinking you thought.
“Okay… it’s your turn!” You said
Daryl thought, there’s not much he hasn’t done so this is trying to rack his brain to find out something you have done that he hasn’t… It was hard.
“I never read a book and enjoyed it…” he said
This caused you to chuckle lightly, it was silly that he’d hadn’t enjoyed a book ever… completely opposite of you, books helped you get through the day sometimes.
“Really?? Like never?” You asked
He nodded, letting a smirk on his face at your reaction. He didn’t like you too much but he can’t deny your beauty, especially your smile.. You brought your cup up to your lips and took a swig. You tried to not make a face, trying to mimic what Daryl did but you couldn’t… this shit tasted awful.
“Yuck.. I’ve never liked drinking…” you joked, sticking your tongue out and shivering.
“It ain’t for everyone… I just like the buzz.” He said, sipping on his moonshine willingly. You gagged jokingly.
“Yeah… I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this shit.” You said, trying to swallow down the burning sensation as it creeped down your throat.
You guys went back and forth for a bit, Daryl saying something he hasn’t done which caused you to drink and then you saying something you haven’t done causing Daryl to drink. It’s funny how a simple game could bring you two closer together which honestly allowed you to ease up and just sit back for a minute. You weren’t thinking any thoughts but what you haven’t done in your life, it really made you think about how you honestly haven’t really lived.
You liked seeing Daryl smile, you’ve never really been able to see that smile of his but now you were addicted to it. You found yourself cracking stupid jokes just go see it and honestly, this might be the moonshine talking, you couldn’t help the dull ache that it created deep within you.
“Okay hmmm I’ve never…” you thought once again… thinking of any embarrassing thing you haven’t done.
You don’t know what came over you but you just blurted the first thing that came into your head, it was strange… like the moonshine was taking over. Your lips had become loose, not able to control them because you were far too gone for that now.
“I’ve never had sex” you were surprised you even said it and it kinda grossed you out.
You were definitely not yourself right now, you would never willingly say that to anyone. You weren’t ashamed of it but it can be a little embarrassing due to the fact you’re in your 20s and still a virgin. It’s not that you didn’t want to or you were actively trying to not have sex, it’s just something that never crossed your mind ever when you were with a person. You’ve had boyfriends and girlfriends, all of them have tried but you always told them you weren’t ready for it.
You looked up at Daryl, seeing that his facial expression never changed… but instead he lifted his cup to his lips and chugged down his moonshine.
“Sorry I…” you started, not able to finish before Daryl asked a hard hitting question.
“Why not?” He asked, setting his cup down.
You were surprised Daryl even continued the game after that, it was all fun and games… no gross shit until you brought that up. You were embarrassed, wishing you never said anything but honestly intrigued about what Daryl would say about the subject.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged, staring down into your moonshine glass. “I've just never been interested enough in someone to do it…”
You looked up at Daryl, making sure he was paying attention to you before you went on. He was staring at you with a different look in his eyes than usual, it wasn’t his usual hard stare he gave everyone. It was softer but still with the same hardness, his pupils were bigger… almost black as he bore them into your skin. When you say you weren’t yourself right now, you meant it. Without even having to rack out your courage from your brain, you looked daryl right in the eyes.
“Until now…” you confessed which created an even deeper ache within you.
Daryl’s eyes stayed on you, not flinching or moving off of you… not even once. You thought maybe he didn’t hear you at first and honestly deep down you wish he didn’t, you were embarrassed at your sudden neediness. Then you thought maybe he didn’t get your hint, maybe you were being too subtle about it. You hoped maybe he would be able to drop it so it would save the embarrassment but what you didn’t know was it lit something inside Daryl.
His blood ran cold when you said that, he watched as you gave him a clueless, innocent look as those filth covered words slipped out of your mouth. Daryl hated how childish you were, how cheery and how you were so optimistic about the world ending… yet he couldn’t shake the thought of you below him as you sucked his dick, he imagined you would be so sloppy with it. He could imagine your drool spill over his cock, making a mess out of yourself. His favorite day dream was you on your hands and knees in front of him as he rammed himself so deep inside you, his hands shoving you down into the pillow as you took his length like the whore you are… or the whore he thought you were.
You being a virgin struck a different feeling into Daryl, you had never been touched before and you never even wanted to be touched… except by Daryl. It was almost as if you waited for him, waited for him to take what was his. He just hates how it had to be this way, after losing everyone and getting drunk on moonshine but Daryl didn’t mind. Daryl had been waiting for this moment since he met you and knowing you’re a virgin was enough to send him off the edge.
“Take your shirt off…” was the only thing he said, suddenly you sobered up.
You were now hyper aware of everything happening in this moment. You could hear the walker outside, you could feel the carpet underneath you and how filthy it was, you could hear every breath that came out of Daryl… they were much deeper than before. You took a moment to let his words linger, making sure you heard him right but after a moment… you did what you were told.
You slowly unbuttoned your shirt, each button showing more and more skin to Daryl causing his breath to hitch. You heated up with every button, finally getting to the final one and then allowing your shirt to slide down your arms. You sat tall, watching Daryl’s eyes scan over your breast. Daryl sat there for a minute, just staring as your face began to heat up more than it already had been.
Then after a moment of hesitation, Daryl stood up and made his way over to where you sat on the floor. You could see how hard he was through his pants, his big cock standing to attention causing your mouth to water slightly.
“You really want this?” He asked, staring down at you as you sat on your knees like an obedient whore you thought you’d never become
You nodded violently, hands scratching at your thighs as you held back the need to touch him. Daryl just chuckled at your actions, running a hand through your hair, getting a good look at your innocence before he completely destroyed you.
“Then you're gonna have to work for it…” he grinned, taking his other hand so he could undo his belt slowly.
You were nervous to say the least, you had dreamed about this for months but it finally freaked you out. Not to mention you’ve never done anything like this, what if you weren’t good enough for him. You watched as he slowly undid his pants, watching as he went teasingly slow. When his pants were successfully undone, he pulled them down so they were down to his knees. You could see his cock straining against his boxers, you couldn’t help but squeeze your legs together for some kind of friction.
Then Daryl shed the last piece of clothing that covered himself, pulling down his underwear which allowed his cock to spring free. You felt a whole world wind of emotions, excitement, nervousness and pleasure all running deep within your bones. He was much bigger than you expected, causing everything wrong to go through your brain. Will it fit? Is it going to rip you open? Will you be able to take him? Daryl saw your nervousness, giving you a reassuring scratch on the head.
“We don’t have to… we can stop now.” He said, lifting your head to look up at him.
He gave you the softest look you had ever seen him give anyone, his fingers danced along your chin as you looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. You shook your head, readjusting yourself on your knees but really… you were trying to silence the ache that was affecting your entire body at this point.
“No… I mean, yes I want this I just..” you paused, biting your lip nervously. “I’ve never done this before… like any of it… I don’t know how.”
You tried to explain it the best you could, you thought you sounded stupid but Daryl knew what you meant. Daryl gave you a smirk, setting his hand on his dick as he slowly pumped it… you saw it twitch out of the corner of your eye. Daryl placed his hand back in your hair, not roughly, not trying to force your head down on him but it was comforting. His hand lightly scratched your scalp, trying to ease your nervousness.
“I’ll teach ya, ya can’t really mess it up so don’t worry.” He joked, even despite your nervousness you let out a chuckle.
You stood taller on your knees, coming face to face with his throbbing cock. You watched as Daryl thrusted his cock into his hand, watching as he set a slow pace for it. He engulfed his entire length in his hand, making sure to slide his fingers along the tip at times.
“Since you are a beginner, go ahead and start at the tip.” He spoke, watching as you looked up at him and then down at his cock once more.
You nodded, getting your lips wet as you opened your mouth and attached it to the pink flush tip. You saw a porno or two, seeing how the girls would give the tip kisses and tiny licks to tease the man. You started off making circles with your tongue on the tip, pulling off to set small kisses to it before going back. Daryl’s groans caused you to go a bit deeper, doing the same thing with the top of his cock.
“Good girl…” he groaned out, his hand in your hair giving you a reassuring scratch once again. “Now when ya think yer ready… hollow your cheeks and take as much as you can of me.”
You moaned at the pet name, loving the way he was talking you through it all. You started small once again, taking in small amounts of him. Your tongue went crazy on him, you weren’t quite sure what to do with it but it made his cock twitch in your mouth so you thought maybe you were doing it right. You bobbed your head up and down, each time you took more and more of him in your mouth.
You could feel Daryl tense up, you could see how hard he was trying to stop his hips from bucking… oh how he wanted to watch you choke and slobber all over his cock, but Daryl wasn’t that mean. Your first time was already going to be in a piss stained trailer, he might as well let you take your time with it. Daryl’s hand was now grabbing at your hair, which part of it was to help you bob your head up and down at a good pace, the other part was because your mouth just felt too good on him… he needed to grab something.
“Fuck… y/n, your doing so fucking good.” He moaned, you would have never guessed Daryl Dixon had such pretty moans.
You smiled on his cock, the praise was getting to your head slightly, you would even say it was causing you to get too big of a head. You attempted to take all of him all at once, you just wanted to make him feel good but you completely forgot about the fact you hadn’t done this before, you were still so new to it. You took your mouth almost all the way off before shoving his cock right down your throat, you gagged causing you to retract back from it.
“Woah there…” Daryl said, seeing how your eyes started to water slightly and your lips were rubbed raw from his cock. “Ya can’t take all of me… not yet at least, you have to start slow bunny.”
“I’m sorry…” you said pathetically, you had become so needy and the only thing you wanted to do was make Daryl feel good.
“ ‘s okay, you can try again if you want or we can stop.” He said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
You looked down at Daryl’s spit covered cock, the ache in your cunt was too much to bear now. You didn’t want to continue but you needed to, it felt like you were out of oxygen in the stuffy room you had been in and the only thing that could ease that feeling was Daryl. Even through your embarrassment you wanted to make it up to Daryl and suck the life out of him.
You looked up into Daryl’s eyes, placing your mouth on his cock once more. You bobbed your head at the same pace you had been before, making sure to not take your eyes off Daryl as his eyes closed slightly. You were much slower  this time, taking in as much as you could, licking up the small vein that laid on the back of his cock. You tried this time to have a small head about it, not get too cocky so as to not embarrass yourself again.
You had gotten to the point where you couldn’t take anymore, Daryl’s hand in your hair wouldn’t let you go that far anymore. Although seeing you choke on his cock gave him a power rush, he would never make you do it if you couldn’t.
“If you can’t take much more, you can use your hands on the rest.” He stated, reaching for your hand and you gave it to him. He placed your hand on the base of his cock, the small section you could not fit in your mouth. “Keep it at the pace yer mouth is going… there ya go.”
You were doing great so far or at least you thought. His cock felt comfortable in your mouth, although you wanted to go deeper, you wanted him all in your mouth but you knew what happened then. You watched as Daryl gripped into the table behind him, knuckles turning white as he had a violent grip on it. His head was thrown back, his nostrils flared as he tried to control his breathing. You liked what you were doing to him, how hard he had to keep himself contained. Who knew that you could do this to someone like Daryl Dixon.
“Doing so good y/n… fuck ‘m gonna cum..” he groaned, hand gripping harder at your scalp. “Gonna cum all over those tits…”
The idea excited you, the idea of you covered in Daryl’s cum, watching as he covered your tits with his seed. You picked up the already fast pace on his cock, taking him further into your mouth. He had gotten quite good at it, a little over half of his cock was fitted deep within your mouth and you could probably take in more if you really tried.
You could feel Daryl’s cock twitch more and more, his hips starting to buck into your mouth slightly, not enough to gag you on him but enough to feel in the back of your throat. You sucked harder, wanting to see how pretty he looked as he came especially when he came from you sucking his cock.
“Shit.. gonna cum…” he said once more, pulling you off of him with his hand and then placing his hand on his cock. “Pull your bra down… lemme see those pretty tits hm?”
You did as you were told, pulling your bra down so your tits were exposed to him. He gripped his cock harshly, starting his thrust at a fast pace as he looked down at you. Your eyes were lust blown and slightly teary, your mouth was wet with your own spit which had dribbled down onto your tits, your tits heaved up and down as you tried to catch your breath. Daryl grunted as he thrusted into his hand, his hand that was in your hair reached down to grab one of your breasts.
He fondled it in his hand, he was delicate with it though. Pinching the skin softly as not to hurt you, but his hips snapped violently against his own hand. You watched as his face was engulfed by pleasure, watching as his orgasm took over his body. Daryl thrusted a few more times into his hands as his cock spilled his cum all over your tits, exactly where he said he was. He pumped himself through his orgasm, the ropes of cum landing perfectly on your tits. You were too busy watching as his face looked so angelic as he came on you, doing the most disgusting thing but still looking so pretty while doing it.
Daryl milked himself onto you, almost completely covering you with himself. Daryl slowly came down from his high, cock still throbbing as it became hard again. You could do nothing but watch, watch as Daryl literally lost his mind for 20 seconds and then became his composed self after.
“Good girl… you did good for me.” He breathed out, moving strands of your hair from your face so he can get a good look at you once again. You were so obedient to him, it turned Daryl on to the max. “You still want me to fuck you?”
You nodded, pressing your thighs together once again. The ache just wouldn’t go away without him fucking you, you couldn’t keep yourself contained anymore. If you had to beg Daryl to fuck you, you would in a heart beat. Daryl nodded down at you, looking around the trailer… for something.
“I’m not gonna fuck you on a dirty floor, I’ll go get a sheet for the couch.” He said, walking back into the trailer. Leaving you there with his cum coating your tits.
You were so ready, you didn’t think you could be this ready for anything but you were. You tried to sit still but you couldn’t, you fidgeted on your knees trying to keep yourself from touching yourself then and there. Your nervousness nowhere to be seen, you were suddenly sober and ready for the pretty redneck to go ram you into the floor.
“You ready?” Daryl said from behind you, you were so in your own head you didn’t even realize Daryl had sprawled and put a sheet on the couch already. You looked up at him, seeing him hold out his hand for you to grab.
You looked down at his hand and then back up at him, with a smile, you took his hand in yours. He helped you up onto your feet but that didn’t last long before you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Daryl couldn’t help but chuckle at your eagerness but he didn’t try to stop you, no he just grabbed onto your hips and pulled you closer to him.
You slipped your tongue within his mouth, feeling every crevice of his mouth as his tongue fought with yours. As you were too busy trying to tongue fuck his mouth Daryl had walked you back onto the couch, knocking things off of tables as he did so. He laid you on the couch, your legs wrapped around him tightly. He supported himself with his arms but you pulled him down on top of you fully, wanting to feel his warmth in you as much as you could.
Daryl let it happen, letting you do whatever you needed to make yourself comfortable. Daryl snaked a hand down your body, creeping them into your pants and underwear as he slipped a finger through your slit. The sudden touch on your bundle of nerves caused you to gasp, no one had ever touched you there before and his rough hands had felt they were made for it. After Daryl had collected a good amount of slick on his fingers, he pulled it out of your pants and placed his fingers in his mouth.
“So wet… god can’t wait to fuck you.” He said, pulling you in for another kiss so you could taste yourself.
The makeout session didn’t take too long because as you were too lost in Daryl’s lips, he was pulling the rest of your clothing off along with his. When you had finally pulled away from his lips, you both were completely naked and your bodies were pressed together in one sticky and sweaty mess. Daryl looked down at you as he rubbed his cock between your slit, allowing himself to get as wet as possible.
“Are you ready for me bunny?” He asked, brushing your hair with his hands comfortably so you were feeling as safe as he could.
“I’m ready Daryl…” you whispered, pecking his lips softly.
Daryl loved how soft and sweet you were but he knew what came next, the sting of him stretching you out and the pain of your experience. Daryl wanted this probably as much as you but he hated being the one to take your virginity, he didn’t want to pain you in any way especially if he couldn’t control the pain. Down the road he’d show you good types of pain, how pain can make you feel good but this isn’t one of the pains he would want you to experience.
“It’s gonna hurt but only for a minute okay? You tell me when you want me to stop.” He stated, watching as you nodded.
You were too lust driven to understand the meaning of his words, you weren’t expecting to hurt that bad. Daryl nodded, grabbing onto your hand so you could squeeze it if needed. He lined himself up with your entrance before pushing himself in slightly. He watched as your brows furrowed and your eyes closed, he could tell you were already starting to feel the sting. He went in deeper, hoping it didn’t feel too much different but your yelp proved differently.
“ ‘m sorry..” he whispered, leaving soft kisses on your neck and jaw.
Daryl could feel your hand squeeze his harshly, you took in a harsh breath as the sting continued as he pushed more of himself in. He once again dragged his fingers down your body so he could rub the bundle of nerves, hoping that would take your mind off the pain for maybe a moment so he could push more of himself in you.
You felt like being ripped open but it was a weird good way, it wasn’t something you would like to feel any longer but it felt nice to know It was Daryl Dixon's pretty cock that was causing you this pain. Daryl tried to be quick with it, trying to shove himself in without causing too much pain. His quick work on your clit made it a little less painful, now the pain and pleasure mixing together to make a beautiful feeling deep in your stomach. It was complete hell for Daryl, he was only seconds away from going completely feral and his patients were wearing thin. He kept composure, trying to just focus on the way your face scrunched in pain.
“Are you almost in…” you gasped as he continued to ever so slowly inch into you.
He was almost half way in, he took moments to allow you to adjust to his size here and there but he was trying to make this go as fast as possible so you were able to feel our pleasure. You were soaked to say the least so Daryl was slipping right in, it’s just the pain and your contracting walls that caused his speed.
“Almost there… just a little more bunny.” He said, suddenly liking the pet name he’d given to you.
He continued to slide himself in slowly, only picking up the speed on your clit to make it easier for you all the while he peppered your neck with love bites. Daryl wasn’t a very affectionate man but right now he had a mission to make you feel as safe as he could make you and if he had to break down all his walls, he would. You had started to get a little fidgety, wanting to reject his cock out of you but also wanting him inside you fully… you craved it. Your body was heating up, your eyes filled with tears as the sting became so much and moans had slipped your lips like water out of a faucet.
You had never felt quite like this before, sure you’d touch yourself at night and one time you had dry humped one of your exes but it was nothing like this. You felt so full yet so empty all at the same time, you needed and wanted more even throughout the pain that coursed through your body. When you thought you were going inside, you felt Daryl’s hips fully against yours. You swear you could feel him inside your guts, it was such a beautiful feeling… being stretched out by his cock, the cock you had made cum no more than 10 minutes ago. You were in heaven…
“ ‘m in… just tell me when to move.” He whispered, landing a kiss on your tear streaked face.
You dug your nails into Daryl, trying to wait till the dull sting had stopped. It wasn’t too bad now, after a bit it had become nothing but an annoying ache but you weren’t ready for him to pound you yet. You stayed there, allowing your walls to get used to him. Daryl held back with everything he had, your velvet walls took his cock so well and he couldn’t wait to fuck them until they were worn down. Daryl couldn’t even day dream how good this feeling would feel, not even his hand could mimic the feeling of it.
You had completely molded to him, causing your walls to twitch slightly and your hips to buck into him. You could hear Daryl grunt into your ear as you teased him with your hips, you knew how hard he was trying to not hurt you… you thought it was sweet, so sweet that you wanted him to feel your appreciation.
“ You… can move now..” you said through a strangled moan.
That’s all Daryl needed, he started slow… teasingly slow even though he wanted nothing more than to slam into you. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge already, with the way his hand had taken a slow speed to your clit and how his cock was slowly bucking in and out of you… you could cum in seconds. Daryl kept his pace, his hand still in yours as he so softly pecked your lips.
Your moans filled the room, the annoying ache, the sting, the stretching no longer paining you anymore, it was now just pure pleasure. You were needing Daryl to speed up, you tried to buck your hips into his but your hips were sore and you couldn’t quite keep a good pace before exhausting yourself out. Daryl knew what you wanted though, he saw your face contort from pain to pleasure in a matter of seconds, he knew you were ready for a good pounding.
“I’m gonna move ya okay?” He said, asking for consent before he did pretty much anything.
“I don’t care… just go faster please!” You whined, causing Daryl to chuckle at your needy behavior.
Daryl sat up, seeing you pout as he took himself out. You asked for more but he gave you less, you were shitty but you weren’t upset for long. Daryl manhandled you basically, smacking your butt lightly to give you the hint to turn around. You did what he wanted, turning around in your hands and knees before Daryl pushed you down until only your front was pushed down into the sheets.
You shivered as the cold air hit your exposed cunt, you slightly whined due to the fact you couldn’t see Daryl. You never even thought the situation of you not seeing Daryl would give you any type of distress but here you were, ass up and waiting for Daryl to fuck you. Daryl got himself comfortable behind you, placing his hands on your hips as he looked down at your face pushed into the pillows.
“You okay? Need another pillow or a blanket?” He asked, watching you get frustrated with him.
“Jesus Christ! Daryl just fuck me!!” You yelled, loud enough for the walker outside to hear.
Daryl just chuckled, lining his throbbing cock up with your cunt once more before he pushed himself in again. You were still very much adjusted to his size, it felt like a hole inside you was filled as he did so… which literally happened but felt more hypothetical in the moment. Daryl started with his slow pace once again, this time only staying with it for mere seconds before he sped up. You twisted your hands in the sheets as his cock hit your g-spot every single thrust.
You were already on the edge before, the knot in your stomach had become annoyingly unbearable as Daryl sped his thrusts up. You couldn’t handle it, you felt like a hungry mad man who had just come across water for the first time in years. You could do much to stop yourself from coming up, you could only scream Daryl’s name at the top of your lungs as your cunt fluttered violently on his cock. Your vision went out, then your hearing and then you felt Daryl’s hands in your hair once again.
He pulled you back to earth with a single pull of your hair as he fucked you through your first orgasm. He spread your cunt apart with one hand as he continued his fast pace, his hips slapping against your ass every single time. You didn’t want him to stop, not even if your sensitive clit was begging for the abuse on it to stop.
“Fuck your so tight for me bunny ain’t ya? You needed to be fucked by my cock huh?” His words cause a deep desire within you, causing a wave of wetness to pour out of you once more.
Daryl was now at an animalistic pace, his hands now bruisingly gripped onto your hips as he thrusted you back into his cock. You moaned out a few “yes”’s and “need you.”’s as a reply to him but really it was the only thing you could say right now. Your mind was too clouded with his cock to be able to think any coherent thoughts, you had quite literally became a fuck toy  for him.
His abuse on your cunt continued, feeling your cunt contract on his cock as your second orgasm within the last 5 minutes started to stir up within your stomach. It only took a few thrusts from Daryl before it came undone again, he felt your cunt spasm once again on his cock. Daryl was close, so fucking close but he needed you to cum again before he could cum deep inside you.
“Just one more time bunny… need you to cum on my cock one more time…” he groaned, not stopping his hips as you came once again on his cock.
His words made yet another knot form within your belly, not waiting for your second orgasm to stop before moving onto the next. You were legit on fire, every one of your senses tingling, your throat burned from the screams that erupted deep down inside of you, your eyes were wet with your salty tears, your skin laced with a small sheet of sweat that seemed to pour out of your. Every inch of your body screamed at you to stop but also all at the same time wanted more, mixing pleasure and pain together as you got higher and higher to your third orgasm.
Daryl grabbed onto your shoulders, lifted you up off the couch so you were unbelievably close to him. Your back was flush against his chest, he held you there, locking your hips in place as he thrusted deeper and harder into your cunt. Your body was screaming for release at this point,  wanting nothing more than to explode under the pressure but you couldn’t get the push you needed to send yourself off the edge.
“I c-can’t…. Fuck Daryl!” You whined, the knot in your stomach so unbelievably tight.
You felt you were going to explode, you shook violently in the hands of Daryl as he thrusted relentlessly into you. Daryl slid his hand down to your clit, giving you an overwhelming amount of pleasure as you let out strangled moans and probably every curse word possible in this moment.
“You can bunny… your doing so fucking good for me, just cum on my cock one more time…” he whispered in your ear, lightly biting the lobe of it.
His words were exactly what you needed, that was the push that sent you over the edge. Suddenly the knot snapped, it didn’t feel anything like it did before though. It sent intense shocks through your body, every inch of your body screaming as it did so. You let out a scream, scratching at Daryl’s arm that was still placed roughly on your hips. You threw your head back over his shoulder, feeling your cunt shoot out fluids.
“God damn… fuck y/n!” Daryl moaned, thrusting only once more before spilling himself inside you.
Daryl’s cum filled you up to the brim, shoving his cock deep inside you so it can coat every inch of your insides. You watched as Daryl came, peaking at him through half closed eyes and seeing his face once again light up with pleasure. Daryl fucked not only you but himself through your orgasms, allowing you both to come down from your highs before he slid his now soft cock out of you.
Daryl held you for a minute, allowing you to go limp in his arms. Daryl wouldn’t say he was in love with you, he didn’t quite know what that felt like but the way he grabbed onto him now, half conscious as he held you softly, he would say you meant something to him. This moment all he wanted to do was protect you, he would kill anyone or anything that even tried to harm you… that terrified him.
“Uh… I’ll go check to see if that shower still works, so you can get cleaned up.” Daryl said, delicately placing you down on the couch.
You were still out of it, you could feel the moonshine creeping back up on you as your head pounded and your stomach twisted. You were plain exhausted as you watched Daryl get up and start collecting his clothes, pulling up his underwear and pants back onto his legs.
“Wait… Daryl?” You called out to him, sitting up so you could see him clearer.
“Yeah?” He answered, not even looking at you as he collected his clothes.
The thought saddened you but the only thing you thought was about how this was a one night stand to Daryl, his efforts to leave, to make you clean up after him, to be by yourself after you gave yourself to him. Daryl didn’t mean to make you feel like that but he didn’t do feelings, so when an ounce of feeling for you creeped up on him… he freaked. He suddenly felt like the world was collapsing under him and if that’s what love felt like, he didn’t want it.
“What does this mean for us?” You asked, seeing how the question left him frozen.
“What do you mean?” He tried to play dumb so hopefully you would just drop it, he begged of you to let him fuck you and leave so he wouldn’t have to deal with his feelings.
“I mean… I told you I haven’t felt this way about anyone before, I didn’t just give you my virginity just because..” you stated, eyes slightly watering as you could see yourself alone already.
Daryl didn’t mean to make you cry, he didn’t want to make you cry ever. God damn he just wanted to be alone now, he thought about you all the time, there wasn’t a single day he didn’t. He told himself that he hated you, you and your stupid optimism but it was just a way to trick himself because he knew he loved that about you. You were so happy and so hopeful, he was the complete opposite of that, and what do they say about the opposite? How do they attract each other?
“I ain’t good with labels” was all he said, not explaining what he meant by that.
It made your heart break slightly, you felt the same way about Daryl but you saw the way he pushed you away. He almost never allowed you to get close to him, ever. So you tried to push down the thoughts you had of him, even the dirty ones you would get at night. Hearing how maybe the man you had fallen in love with was willing to fuck you and than leave, it broke your heart. Daryl picked up on your change of posture, fuck he really didn’t mean it to come out like that.
“But this ain’t a one night stand if that’s what yer thinking.” He reassured me, hoping to get you to stop being so sad. “I do care about you…”
The confession made your heart flutter, you weren’t there what this meant, if this’ll be the start of something or you’ll just remain each other’s fuck buddies. What you did know was what the world meant to you, every word that left his mouth meant something to you. You knew that was his way of confessing he did have feelings for you, causing a big smile to appear on your face.
“You know what,” you started, wrapping yourself up in the sheet. “I’ll take it…”
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xxblairexxss · 8 months
Text
Who are you?
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader
Theme : Fluff, I think?
Word count : 2.4k
Requested!
Part 2 Part 3
You got into an accident on your way to work with a guy who drove Ferrari Pista 488 with the number 16. Weird thing was that everyone kept calling his name as if he was a celebrity.
Just a light one. Haven’t proofread!
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"The audacity of him! And then what did you say?"
Your mom thought your decision to accept an internship in Monaco out of all countries was solely because you could talk to your best friend, Linda, without having a problem with the time difference. It just happened to be on your side, though. Instead of listening to her story about her stupid ex before you went to bed, you had to get ready, so she had become your favourite podcast to listen to on your way to work.
"I said nothing." She winced, even before you screamed.
"What?! You let him disrespected you like that! Oh my God! Why?! I would have punched —“ The sound of a car horn kicked through your AirPods, taking over the voice of your friend. There wasn’t enough time for you to react when the black car came approaching so fast, cringing along the sound of a car honk that seemed to be echoing within the small town that you would have thought it would send you straight to heaven. It turned out your mind wasn’t ready for today to be your last day on earth, so you tried to run across the road and fell flat against the friction.
You were expecting to wake up surrounded by clouds, just like how the cartoons pictured the afterlife, until you felt a touch on your shoulder. "Fuck! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Are you—"
"I would have punched you in the face." You muttered, what was supposed to be something directed towards Linda’s ex boyfriend.
"Woah, okay. I’m really sorry. Here," He offered a hand and pulled you up; that was when the pain hit your nerves, making you bend over and wince. 
"Ow! What is wrong with you?!" The man was pushed away and staggered at the outburst. "It was a red light. Are you blind?"
"Okay, I’m really sorry; that was totally my fault. Let me take you to the hospital."
You retracted your arm from his hand relentlessly, limping your way to the roadside. "Leave me alone."
"You are bleeding!" He argued and tried to offer his hand for you to hold as he was you struggled to walk.
"I know! I have eyes."
"You need to treat those cuts. Just let me take you to the hospital."
You tried to hobble away from the man, but the pain had set a limit to your pace. "I don’t even know you. Go away."
"Okay, my name is—" 
"Charles! Everything good?" He looked up, surprised to hear his name being called out so sudden, and gave a thumbs up back to the waiter of the restaurant.
"You heard him. I’m Charles. You have a witness there," You looked back at the direction he pointed with his chin. “if I do something bad to you. Can you get in my car so I can take you to the hospital now? I’m kinda in a rush."
"If you are rushing, then you can just go. Don’t let me hold you up." Charles shut his eyes, tilting his head back. He knew he had misspoken because you were going to say yes before he mentioned about time. "Okay, okay! I’m not. I’m not in a rush at all. So, please, get in the car."
"Are you sure? Cause I can just —“
"No. I mean, yes. I’m very sure." He extended his hand, which you finally held while you limped your way to the car.
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This was your second tissue, which you had been pressing on your cuts. You just found out your chin was bleeding as well when you saw the reflection on his window.
"Do you need water?" He twisted open the mineral water bottle and offered it to you. You were so quiet, it made him feel restless. He would rather hear you curse him out than this eerily silent. "The hospital is 5 minutes away. Does it hurt a lot?"
"It’s not that serious. Don’t worry." You turned from looking out the window, eyes scanning through the buildings of the city, towards him, frowning in suspicion. "How did he know you? The waiter."
"He has seen me a lot. It’s a small town, after all. Are you a student?" He saw you were carrying a bag of laptop with a few files, which he had placed at the back of the car, so you were obviously not a tourist. It left him with two answers. Either you were a student or you just moved here, because if you had been living here for a while, you wouldn’t ask the question. He wasn’t saying everyone would know him, but they would at least aware of who he was.
"No, I’m doing my internship."
"How long has it been?" He queried.
"2 weeks, I think." You looked out the window as he drove into the hospital area. "You can just drop me here. I’ll be fine."
"No, it’s okay. You need help from a local, so that would be me. Can you walk?" His seatbelt retracted as he clicked on the unhook button and helped you register your name and details at the registration counter while you were asked to just sit and wait.
"Hi, Charles!"
"Oh my God! It’s Charles!"
"Are you Charles Leclerc? What are you doing here?"
It felt like you must have had a permanent wrinkles in between your brows, as you had been frowning for minutes whenever people called out his name. Sure, it was a small town, but did that mean everyone knew everyone to this point?
"Are they your friends?" He leaned in, moving his ear closer to hear your question.
"No, they are not my friends. They have seen me a lot too." The way he replied was so nonchalant, but it still didn’t make any sense to you.
"That doesn’t really make any sense." You commented, still frowning.
"It makes sense in Monaco." He looked away and bit his lips, trying to hold his chuckle.
The medical staff explained to you every cream and medicine you needed to take and when it was needed, while Charles joined in as well, listening as if it had anything to do with him.
"Can we get your phone number so we can call for a follow-up treatment on your sprained wrist?"
"Oh, my Monaco phone number? Give me a second." You just happened to find out that your phone was badly damaged in the accident right when you tried to turn it on. It probably had to do with you trying to stop your fall without realising it was in your hand, so the screen was cracked and it was just a black screen. You were forgetful and had written your new phone number in your notes so you wouldn’t get charged for accepting calls from a foreign country, but it was impossible to check your notes if your phone couldn’t even turn on.
"Use mine. If anything, just call me." Charles stepped in and wrote down his phone number, leaving you stunned. "And here’s my card. I’ll pay for everything."
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"Thank you for sending me home. Oh, my phone!" He had helped you bring your stuff all the way to your apartment, though you had assured him that you could carry your own things. Just when you were about to take the last thing of yours in his possession, he moved his hand away before you could take it. "I need my phone back?"
"It doesn’t even work."
"Okay? But that doesn’t mean I’m going to throw it away." Charles brought the phone higher when you tried to snatch it, smiling like an idiot when he saw you were glaring at him.
"I’ll get it fixed and give it back to you."
"I don’t need your help anymore. Give it back! I’ll get it fixed myself." You disagreed, refusing to owe him even more, but he stepped back and slipped the phone into his back pocket.
"You still need me for your follow-up treatment. You used my phone number, remember? I’ll see you in a few days once it’s fixed. Don’t forget to put the cream and your medicine." He walked away after giving you a nod out of curtesy.
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"Was he hot?"
Though your phone was broken, you still wouldn’t miss a daily update from your best friends. After explaining everything, including every single detail of what happened earlier, Linda’s main focus was to ask that. Not your sprained wrist, not your cuts—nothing about you, but all about the man you had told her about.
You rolled your eyes and continued to spread the cream on the cut on your leg, still engaging in the conversation from the video call on your Macbook. "He was cute. You know, apparently everyone here knows everyone. Crazy, isn’t it? Everyone kept on calling his name ‘Charles! Charles!’ as if he were some kind of celebrity, but it was actually very common. I was shook because—"
"Wait, what did you say?" She intervened.
"I said I was shook."
"No, before that. What was his name?" Linda asked, seemingly typing something on her laptop.
"Charles? Charles Lec something?"
"Oh my God! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" She shrieked, making you jump and scream along.
"What the heck?" You bawled as she started talking nonsense. "Slow down! What are you trying to say?"
"Is this the guy that helped you?" She brought the phone and switched to the back camera so you could see the picture on her laptop.
"Yeah? Why is his face everywhere in the Google images?" That was weird. Though you were treated like a celebrity in Monaco, why would you put out your pictures on the Internet in public, with not just one but more than what seemed to be normal for someone who just lived in Monaco?
"He’s a fucking F1 driver, you idiot! Oh my God, you are so dumb, Y/N!" Linda called out, feeling frustrated for her friend, who had to be the smartest in class but not street-smart.
"What?! But he told me that everyone knew him because they just saw him a lot." You argued back and tried to make it make sense to your friend, who seemed to be so disappointed.
"Yeah? Because he’s driving for Ferrari and he’s a Monegasque? Obviously, everyone has seen him a lot. You are so dumb."
"2 weeks in this new country, and I have already humiliated myself. I’m just going to ask him to leave my phone in front of the door so I don’t have to see him again, right?" You don’t think you could look at him in the eye anymore because you were so embarrassed that you might need 2 to 3 months to move on.
"I don’t know. To me, it sounds like he wanted to get to know you."
"Cut the crap, Linda."
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"I can’t just leave your phone out here." Charles came and rang your doorbell a few days later. You had been yelling behind the door, trying to make him go so you wouldn’t have to see him again, but he just wouldn’t let it pass.
"Just leave it there!" You replied back the other side of the wood door.
"Are you hurt?" He replied back, knocking on your door this time.
"No!"
"Okay, then why can’t you come out?" Charles could have just done what you asked him to do, but he wanted to see how your cuts were doing, if they were still bleeding.
And he also wanted to see you because he just felt so.
"Fine, I’m leaving it here. Make sure to not leave it outside for too long. Someone might steal it away." He remarked before walking away, knowing you had been peeking from the peep hole.
"Finally!" The door pulled open after you waited for two minutes, giving him enough time to take the elevator and left.
Until you saw him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He had this smirk on his face, as if he expected you to be dumb enough and fell in his trick, which you actually did.
"Finally what?" He strode closer, arms still crossed, as he looked down on your legs to see the cut had started to heal. "Hm?" Charles carefully tilted your face up to see your chin and nodded when it wasn’t as red and bleeding as it was a few days ago. "Did I do something wrong? Why can’t you just come out?"
You grinned and walked back into your apartment, pushing the door shut with your body. "Okay, you can go home now. I’ll call the hospital to ask them to change the phone number back to mine. Thank you!”
"Wait! Why are you acting so weird?" He blocked the door and tilted his head, trying to catch your eyes because you had been looking everywhere but at him.
"Why didn’t you tell me who you are? Here I thought everyone in Monaco would call out people’s names as if they were celebrities, and you actually turned out to be one?" Your tone went higher while you pointed your hand at him, as if he were an artefact in a museum and you were a museum guide.
"I’m not exactly a celebrity. Just an athlete. How did you know?" He asked in a very light way, like this whole situation was fun for him.
"My friend showed me your picture, and I still didn’t trust her, so I went on Google myself and typed…" You pressed your lips, squeezing your eyes shut, because you knew you were just going to humiliate yourself even more if he found out about this.
"And typed in what?" Charles repeated your last sentence.
"Charles Monaco." Your hand covered your eyes instantly while he burst out laughing. He would have left with a bruised nose if only you could slam the door in his face right now, but you wouldn’t want to be charge with assaulting the famous guy in this town. "Yeah, whatever. Can you step back because I’m trying to close the door?"
"So, that’s it?" I nearly hit you with my car, sent you to the hospital, fixed your phone, and that’s it?"
You furrowed your brows. "What else do you want?"
"How about I give you a tour around the town? I’ve lived here all my life. No one knows every corner of this town except me." He rested his hand on the door when he saw you try to close it again. "Are you sure you want to miss this one chance to be with Charles Monaco?"
"You are so annoying!"
“Your next appointment is in two days. I’ll pick you up at 10 a.m." He walked away, still wearing the cocky smile that made you want to punch him so bad.
"I can go on my own. I’m not going to open the door for you next time!" You stood outside the hallway, shouting back as he went even further.
"Then I’m gonna barge into your apartment. I’m Charles Monaco; I can do whatever I want."
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If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!
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Text
Mentions of being drunk.
Thinking about baby daddy!Miguel O’Hara who showed up at your work in the morning with your bagel and coffee like he did every time when you had Gabriella for the week. Knowing how you hadn’t eaten anything, waving off your concern about him going out of his way to bring it to you.
Baby daddy!Miguel who, despite knowing he will probably be late to work due to traffic this morning being abysmal, he still lingered around your work desk after dropping off your food. Not-so subtly hinting about talking about what happened during the weekend. Shooting him a glare to shush because you know how nosy your coworkers can be.
Baby daddy!Miguel who finally leaves for work, but not before you agree to discuss the unignorable conversation, later on of course, away from the ears of your coworkers and definitely not around the nosy girl that was your daughter.
Once the elevator doors closed behind him, you haven’t even gotten a chance to blink, let alone gather your bearings before your coworkers started up.
“Who was thaaaat?”
“Her ex-husband.”
“No, they never got married, remember? That’s her baby daddy.”
“Giiiirl, a man like him? One can dream.”
“I know right? Those muscles put my husband to shame, and he’s a firefighter. Why does a scientist need to be that jacked anyways.”
“Okay are you guys done ogling at my ex?” You finally spoke up, irrational so apparent that it made the other three girls quiet down almost immediately. You couldn’t help but feel your chest burning a bit as you took a bite of your bagel.
Baby mommy!Reader who finally got to clock out after a long day of work. One foot already out the door once the clock struck 5pm so she could go pick up Gabriella from after school soccer practice.
Baby mommy!Reader who listened to her daughter rambling about her day at school and practice, telling her all the juicy middle school gossip she learned on her first day while the two sat in the afternoon traffic.
Baby mommy!Reader who felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up when she turned the corner into her hallway and saw her ex sitting in front of her front door. Clearly not sober.
No, not Miguel, the other ex.
Baby mommy!Reader who hurriedly guided her daughter back towards where she came off the elevator, thankfully he didn’t see either of them turn the corner. Ignoring Gabi’s voice questioning why she turned away once she saw Henry, rather than walk up to him and greet him with a hug and a peck on the lips like Gabi had grown used to.
Baby mommy!Reader who assured her little girl that she’ll explain later. Before pulling out her phone, and opening up the messages app.
Miguel. -You
?? -Miguel
can you do me a favor? -You
What’s the favor? -Miguel
Henry is camping outside of my front door and me and Gabriella can’t go inside without facing him. He looks drunk. -You
I’ll be there in 20, stay in the lobby. -Miguel
Ten minutes later, Miguel came marching through the front door of the apartment building. Letting his scowl fade away so as to not let his daughter catch it. She didn’t need to know what he was about to do to Henry.
“Hey honey,” he scooped down to give Gabriella a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, before standing up straight to look at you. Pulling you into a hug as well so he can whisper his next words. “He didn’t touch either of you, did he?” You quickly shook your head no.
“Didn’t even see us.” You whispered back.
“Good.” He finally let his arm leave the small of your back, leaving the cold air to hit your back once more. “ Gabriella, you and mom are gonna go down to that nail salon down the street, and get some manicures and pedicures. We’ll explain everything when you get back.” He explained calmly, too calmly, as he reached for his wallet and pulled out a few twentys from it, handing it to you. You didn’t even get a chance to protest the action because he started to gently push you both back out of the complex building.
Now I can deal with this stupid rat once and for all.
Part 7<
Not proofread.
Word count: 700
TAGLIST IS CLOSED!!
Taglist: : @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @reader-1290 @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @fruityfucker @pigeonmama @scaryplanetdestroyer @migueloharastruelove @krentkova19 @genny1019 @maiyart @stressed-cherry @scaleniusrm @ginnysculture @mishaglass @wusyanmee @bunnibitez @miguelzslvtz @dahehow @sinners-98-world @othersideoftheparadise @toyfortoji @yeshajane @yvesbi @hanjisgf @deljojeisbackagain @safixiovi @emmalandry @maxinemus3 @lauraolar14 @aaaaslaaaan @kenz-ee @esmedelacroix @whattheshock @syler-griffin @comeonatmebruh @xwonderlandresidentx @m4dyy @the-pan-liquid @lilbrababe99 @jxstanemo @badbitchhour @freehentai @sillysillygoofygoose @nj452896 @jadeloverxd @faretheeoscar @ce3stvu @scorpihoooe @blossomofbismuths @nxxav3rs3 @ilovespiderverseeee @ghost-lantern @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiiira @lavenderslemonade @rinnako @reirain @nommingonfood @miguelsfavwife
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hiiiii🌻 if you haven’t already, will you do a headcanon for carmy? 🥺
Carmy Berzatto Headcanons.
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warnings - sexual content.
ohh sweet carmy. I definitely romanticise him, because we've seen on the show he can be a nightmare in relationships. so, take these with a pinch of salt. <3
3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.
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- Never gets tired of cooking for you. You feel bad, sometimes, when he offers to cook even after he's been at work all day. He reassures you one evening that he loves cooking for you, because it's different. There's no pressure. He can relax, and do what he loves most for the person he loves most.
- Terrible at DIY. The two of you always end up crying with laughter when you try and get a job done, because it always inevitably goes wrong. You're both determined to do it yourselves, though. You'll never call a guy.
- He's a commitmentphobe. Majorly. I think it'd be really hard work to get Carmy to ever really commit himself to you. It'd take time, and a hell of a lot of patience. But, once he does, he's fiercely loyal. He'd do anything for you, no hesitation.
- Carmy's awful at communicating. He's not good at processing his emotions, and ends up yelling. The first time you had an argument, you didn't yell once, which was a real turning point for him. You talked it out, and fixed the issue. From that moment on, he tries. He's not perfect, but he tries.
- Hates seeing you cry. It's his least favourite thing in the world. The minute you cry, his bottom lip is quivering, lump in his throat forming. You cry, he cries.
- Loves it when you pamper him. Happily sits with you while you apply your face mask, asks one day if you'll put some on him. You cuddle on the couch, wine in hand, terrible reality show on the TV. You do your skincare routine, and then do it on him too.
- Only trusts you to cut his hair. You don't have much experience, but you figure it out pretty quickly. He now refuses to go to a salon, begging you to do it instead. In the bathroom, stood between his legs, you trim his hair carefully, trying to ignore the way he's gazing up at you with those big blue eyes.
and now onto the sexy stuff...
- Doesn't stop talking during sex. He can't shut his mouth. He's got his lips pressed to your ear, murmuring the filthiest things you've ever heard.
- Lives to praise you. Sure, he'll degrade you if you want, but he loves getting to tell you how pretty you are, how perfect you look like this, how you're such a good girl for him.
- Loooves cowgirl. Loves getting to sit there all smug as you're on top of him. It's his favourite view. His favourite thing to do is sit up so you're chest to chest, his arms wrapped around you. Nothing beats it.
- Will fuck you anywhere. Kitchen counter, dining table, bathroom vanity, washing machine. Can and will bend you over the nearest surface. He's not a patient man.
- Gets off on eating you out. He's an expert in fine dining, after all. Loves when you grab his hair, tugging and pulling. He basically works himself to the edge as he laps at you. Has definitely made himself come by grinding his hips into the bed. He enjoys it just as much as you do.
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as always, feel free to agree/disagree/expand on these!! <3
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rreids · 19 days
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BE GOOD TO ME • A. HOTCHNER X READER
__ used in place of reader's name; age gap (both legal, unspecified, hotch implied to have worked with the reader's father); fem!reader; alcohol consumption; fluff; angst (i'm v bad at it, apologies); fears of abandonment; hotch is a bit insensitive at times; no jack or haley (assumed they have the same issues with his work & broke up pre-fic); sexual tension; has a nsfw section, skip from: (“Okay, they’re shut,” -> "I'll stay." if you are a minor or don't like smut; ~5k words; a poorly written ending, honestly; an (early!!!) birthday present for @hotchfiles (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) smut warnings: dom!hotch (nothing intense), fingering, marking, unprotected sex (do not copy them <3), oral (m receiving).
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Moving was always a hassle. 
Stressful, tiring, made tensions high — the works. It took the better part of your first day in Quantico to move in, and you could only settle onto your new couch (courtesy of your father, who’d worked in Narcotics at the FBI early on in his career, and was more than excited to find out that you wanted to move there) when the sun was thirty minutes from setting.
“Yes, yeah, Dad, I’m fine. I only had thirty more minutes of unpacking when you were leaving,” you click on speaker phone and lean your head back, sighing as you try to work a cord in your neck. “I’ll say hi to my neighbors tomorrow. Yes. Yes, I’m going to eat. The food you gave me to put in the fridge. I have my first day at the café tomorrow, I’ll get groceries then.”
He rambles for a bit and you close your eyes, letting him talk and talk. It’s nice. You know he worries.
“Ok, Dad, I got it. I’ll contact Gideon if anything comes up, and I’ll ask around for his team or wife — girlfriend? — if he’s busy. I love you, but I’m gonna go get ready for bed. Okay? Yeah. Thank you. Bye-bye,”
He hangs up first, knowing you hate to be the one to click it.
You sigh and stretch, tossing the phone down on the cushion. By the time you gain the energy to stand and go to the fridge, there’s a ring of your doorbell. 
You’re not expecting anyone, so you approach cautiously, peering through the peephole. It’s a man, older, but you can’t place by how much, standing with his hands in his pockets.
You crack the door, keeping the secondary lock in place. “Hello?”
“Good evening,” his voice has a nice husk to it. “Sorry, I should introduce myself. My name’s Aaron, I’m your neighbor. Wanted to ask if there’s any groceries or anything I could bring you, something to help you get settled or maybe you forgot to pack for the move…?”
You eye him warily.
“I was going to make cookies but I can’t bake.”
You chuckle. “Um, I think I’m okay. Are you handy, by any chance?”
“A little. I can do stuff around the house.”
“Then,” you pause, looking at his eyes. “Is there a chance I can get your number? You know, so if there’s any issue I can call you to come round and take a look,”
“Sure,” he smiles warmly at you. “I’m a little busy sometimes, though, so it might take me a few days to get around to stopping by.”
You nod and quickly undo the inner latch and open the door more fully. “That’s alright, I don’t expect you to drop your life because I can’t fix a leaking faucet. Can you wait here while I grab my phone?”
He nods, looking respectfully at only the foyer and not further into your new home, carefully avoiding focusing on the stacks of boxes you haven’t gotten to unpacking (full of knick-knacks and unimportant things that you decided could wait to be put on display). 
It doesn’t take long to save each other’s contacts, and while there’s no more excuse for him to be on your stoop, you want to talk to him more. “Do you have anyone to eat dinner with?”
Subtle, your inner voice snarks back.
“No,” he smiles sadly, bitterness to it. “Just me.”
“Well, it’s just lasagna to reheat, but if you’d prefer to not eat alone…”
“I’d love that…?”
“__,” you smile. “Come on in, Aaron. I’ll get you a plate.”
.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊
Work goes well, getting adjusted is easy.
You make friends with your coworkers and a few regulars, go out a few times and find a group of girls you mesh with.
Then again, you were a pretty sociable person, always trying to smile and improve people’s days. It was partially why you didn’t absolutely hate service work. There was a silver lining to every interaction.
Aaron was nice, too.
You’d had an issue with water pressure when you finally (after much longer than you’d like to admit) got your new shower head attached, and he’d come over and let his dress shirt get soaked while he fixed it for you.
Whenever you ask about work, he dances around anything more than telling you “FBI” and that he “travels a lot”, but you didn’t mind too much. Everyone has their secrets, and you knew your dad had seen some terrible things. 
You can only imagine what Aaron has seen.
He was good company, had a dry and witty humor that you never expected, kind eyes and a gentle smile you were lucky to see despite his tiredness, and, well, he was handsome.
You weren’t against eye candy, even if you didn’t know much personally about him. It took a week to learn how old he was, and a few days while was gone for work for you to reconcile that he was old enough to have worked with your father when he was at Narcotics.
It’s been two weeks since you’d last seen him, but he calls, voice exhausted and rough, raw, even, from what seems to have been an emotional case. 
“Aaron?”
He hums, sighs on the other side of the line.
“Everything okay?”
“Just tired,” he doesn’t explain more. “Can you keep talking?”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” you can’t help the way your brow furrows in concern about how worn-out he sounds. “Well, I can tell you about my job. I’m not nearly as secretive, Mr. FBI,” you tease, and he exhales — a softer, happier one. 
And so you do, rambling about different coffees, trying desperately to coax him into trying a latte (he refuses every single time you try to tell him he’d like one, but assures you there’s someone on his team who has equal amounts of sugar and coffee in his — you’re sure he’s exaggerating, the sugar would be too much for almost anyone — who would love to try your drink combos); telling him about regulars and new customers, the music that played, if there’s a song you know he’d like; really, anything you can think of.
“When do you get back?”
“We’ve landed, I’m back.” There’s more shuffling than there had been on his end, papers sliding and the crackling connection as he moves the phone before bringing it back to his ear. “Just finishing some paperwork.”
“Is it stuff that can’t be seen?”
“No. It’s not confidential.”
“Do you want to do it at your house, then? Or visiting my place. I made pasta and steak, I can heat some back up for you. I’m sure you haven’t been eating well when you’re chasing down bad guys, or… whatever you do when you’re gone, I’m not sure exactly.”
Aaron chuckles. “Thanks, __. Give me thirty minutes?”
“Yeah. Do you want me to stay on the line?”
He hesitates.
“No. No, it’s okay. I’ll see you in a little while.”
.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊
He takes closer to forty-five minutes, but you expected something to take a bit longer than he said. And it’s not a bother. Really, it was welcome because it let you run out to the store and buy a nice wine (you hoped he likes red), and reheat the food better than just by the microwave.
When he knocks, you try not to scurry over too quickly and to temper your smile. “Come in,”
Aaron smiles tiredly at you, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He hangs up his suit jacket and loosens his tie slightly.
He looks at the table and his brows raise. “Wine?”
“I figured you could use something to unwind,”
“Sounds lovely.” 
You can’t tell if he actually means that, or if he just doesn’t like red, doesn’t want wine, or what, and is being polite but you don’t push it. 
“Are you going to eat, too?”
“I already did,” you smile at him. “I was going to do dishes so I don’t leave them in the sink overnight — I try to never do that. But it can wait if you’d rather have company.”
He moves his napkin. “Well, I’d be able to hear you from the kitchen. More efficient,”
“Got it,”
You hum to yourself in the lulls of conversation with him, scrubbing a plate clean. He eats quickly, when you’re not across from him, and you find this out when he comes in with his dishes.
“Let me wash them. My mess,”
“You’re a guest,” you protest, but you don’t do much to dissuade him, watching the way he rolls up his sleeves and his forearms flex with a lazy smile as he scrubs off the alfredo sauce. “At least leave your glass. We can drink and talk for a bit.”
He raises his brows but nods, pushing it to the side.
“Do you want to talk about work?” You ask him as you fill one for you and then top off his. “Or would you prefer anything else.”
“I’ve been talking about dead bodies and abductions for two weeks. I’d like something more normal,” Aaron answers smoothly before pausing, placing his plate in your dishrack. “I’ve never told you that I deal with that, have I?”
“No,” you hand him his wine and guide him to your couch. “But I can make a guess why you haven’t,”
“I’m sure you can.”
“My father, he was in Narcotics, actually.” You look for a flash of recognition in his eyes, but without saying your father’s name there is none. “Maybe he worked with you at some point. But he would always come home tense and it strained my parent’s relationship… I get it.”
Aaron swallows. You guess relationships are a sore spot.
“Wanna hear about the last time I went out?” You couldn’t think about a better topic, and grimace when he sighs and sinks back into the cushions. “Nothing gross,”
“Hit me.”
You tell him, excited, bubbly, and pause about two-thirds into recounting the drinking games and how you could barely walk by the end of it. Namely, because you want to leave out the fact you almost drunk-dialed him (and that you were super wasted in public, considering he’s a federal agent), and second, because you realize you could show him the dress you were wearing that night.
Maybe the wine is getting to you a little, but you buzz with excitement at the idea of him eyeing you up and down.
“Actually, I wanna show you something!” Your voice is too excited and you know it when he gives you a questioning look. “Wait here.”
You stumble a little changing out of your clothes and quickly zip yourself into the dress, clasp the same necklace back on. Your hair isn’t done the same, your makeup is your day makeup and not what you wear out, but you still look pretty. 
Maybe a little less slutty than you did that night, but the way the dress clings to your curves would make up for it. Hopefully.
“Close your eyes!” You call out to him.
“What?” Aaron calls back, and you hear an exaggerated groan when you don’t reply. “Okay, they’re shut,”
You saunter out and lightly grab his wrist — he’s holding his hands to cover his sight completely, and your heart flutters at the boyishness — and tug them away. “What do you think?”
Aaron opens his eyes almost directly to your cleavage as you straighten up, and he snaps his attention to your face. That doesn’t last long as you spin and twirl, letting the light catch the glittery details. 
He’s moved his eyes to your hips and how much of your thighs are exposed.
He clears his throat. “You wore this out when you were that drunk?”
“Don’t worry,” you smile. “I was safe!”
“You were telling me you could barely walk,”
You pout at him. “You’re so serious, you know that?”
“It’s part of my charm.”
A beat of silence.
Another.
“Twirl for me again?”
You beam at him and obey, squeaking when he pauses you once you face away. 
“It’s not fully zipped,” he lets his fingers trace above the zipper as he stands, and you feel him pressing closer to you — tall, imposing, strong. Warmth radiating off his skin. “Can I?”
You debate what to say.
“Actually,” you breathe in deeply, trying to keep your voice level. “I think I cinched the waist too tight at the clasps. Can you loosen them?”
Aaron’s breath ghosts over the nape of your neck, and he says nothing as he slowly unzips it, fingers sparking desire and tensing the muscles as his fingers trail down your spine after the zipper. 
“Right here?” He asks, tugging at the cinch to make his point clear.
You smile and let the straps slip from your shoulders in a fake stretch. His breath hitches.
“A little lower,”
Aaron listens, entranced, undoing more and more until his fingers ghost right above your panties — a thong, maroon-y red. 
You imagine he’s shut his eyes now, trying to respect you despite the way you’re clearly trying to get into his pants.
And so, you act.
You reach back and grasp the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him a little closer to the crook of your neck.
“__,” he whispers.
“Aaron,” you match the soft desire thrumming under the words. “Please.”
You know he’ll snap when you arch your back, pressing back into his hardening bulge and pushing your chest out — right into his line of sight.
He kisses the skin of your neck gently, sucking on it harshly before running his tongue over the stinging sensation. He guides the dress down you fully, strong hands squeezing the fat on your thighs with a groan before slipping up and around your waist to cup your breasts.
“You’re beautiful,”
“Please don’t waste time on easing into it,” you grit out, aching for him. “I want you. Badly.”
“Shh,” he soothes, unclasping your necklace and placing it on the small stand by your couch, kissing where the cold metal had sat. “You’ll get me,”
You whimper out in surprise as he spins you and crashes his lips into yours forcefully, pressing you into him so your nipples brush against his ironed and perfect dress shirt, a perfect, aching friction. 
A confident hand goes to your thong and snaps the waistband against your hip as you press further into him, blindly pawing at his pants.
“Walk me to your bedroom,” he tells you when he pulls back for air, and you stumble into the wall twice, too wrapped up in his kisses and heat to move with grace.
He lays you down, but before he can pull back and stand, you pull him next to you. 
“Let me,” you say, tugging his tie loose and nimbly undoing his buttons with only a slight tremor to your hands. The button-up falls open to beautiful strength and skin, dotted with freckles and rippling with strength as he shrugs the fabric off and flings it to the floor.
When you start on his belt, his eyes bore into you and you shrink under the gaze once you tug it loose.
“Sit back,” he nods towards the headboard. “Now.”
You swallow and scramble to move where he wants. He strips down to his boxers and shifts to move over you, bracing on his knees and a forearm. He pecks your lips with a smile before deepening the kiss.
He leaves you gasping for air by the time he moves to lick over your nipples as his calloused fingers find their way into your panties. You quiver at the roughness on your clit, the way the fabric of the thong slips against you with his movements. 
He pulls off you, and your eyes hungrily drink in his deep breaths and the filthy sight of his fingers moving in your underwear, back arching as he slips one finger into you and continues to roll your clit with his thumb.
“More?” He asks when your hips grind down to meet him.
“Want it,” you gasp out, squeezing him over his boxers. The precum that’s leaked through makes you keen with need. “‘M ready.”
“I’d rather you not get hurt,” he pushes in another finger. “So be patient.”
You huff, fucking up against his hand.
He pulls back and pins you with that same hand, smearing your arousal over your hip. “You can’t wait?”
“Maybe I like it with a little pain.”
He raises a brow at that and sighs, but he lets go of you to pull down and kick off his boxers.
Your mouth dries at the sight of his cock, and you ache, so desperately empty. You grab at his shoulders, broad and strong, and he can’t help the twitch of a smile as he rubs himself against you and you squirm.
You kiss him as you hook your leg around him and drag him into you, delighting in the gasp of pleasure he lets out against your lips. His jaw sets, teeth grinding as he sets a torturously slow pace, letting you feel the drag of every vein and inch against your velvety walls.
You dig your nails into his back and scratch, and his hips stutter before finally speeding up. It’s still not enough, but finally forceful enough to draw sounds from your lips.
“You like a little pain too,” you laugh breathlessly, trying to leave a bite on his neck. He cranes back and out of reach, folding your legs up to drive deeper.
“I can take it. Can you?” Aaron asks, no expectation of an answer as he finally sets a pace that drives you to near silent gasps and shaking muscles. 
You whimper, digging your nails in more harshly to feel the way his shoulders flex as he moves one of his hands to rub your clit. His skin and his movements are rough and aggressive, punching moans out of you without care, sitting your nerves on fire.
He doesn’t relent, leaving wet kisses along your sweat slick skin as he fucks into you so hard you quiver in his hold, small and weak and helpless under him.
You moan at the idea, arching up into him as he scrapes his teeth over your left breast.
“More,” you beg breathlessly. “I can take it all,”
His brow furrows in delicious determination over darkened, blown-out eyes, lips tightening to hold in his gruff moans as he drags you closer to your ecstasy.
“Yeah?” He asks, bringing a hand to squeeze your cheeks together. “Want it all?”
You nod eagerly, urge him down for another kiss, and you clench when he sucks on your tongue before pulling back and completely away.
“Hands and knees.”
You flip hurriedly, trying to hide the way your muscles shake from the effort. He catches it, though, wraps an arm under and around your waist to help support you as he drapes himself over your back and slides back in.
It’s almost claustrophobic, so warm and close to him, skin slick with sweat, heavy breaths coming out in humid pants, wet presses of his lips and tongue to your shoulders and the nape of your neck; but you love it, whining and keening as he angles his hips just right and rubs your clit again.
You’re so, so, so close to the edge, you can almost taste it.
“Let go,” he orders, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his own sounds.
And you do, quivering around him, pussy desperately trying to keep him in place as he fucks you through it.
He hisses, and you whine at the empty feeling, rolling over to see him leaning back and jerking himself off, head tossed back and veins popping out. 
You crawl over and grin up at him “fuck my mouth” before taking him in, and he hisses, fingers tightening in your hair.
“Shit, __,” he groans, and you realize it’s the first time he’s said your name or lost composure during this. You hum in response and bob your head further down before hollowing your cheeks.
His hips jerk, but before he can apologize for the movement, you moan around him and press lower.
Aaron groans, deep and broken with need, and it only takes a few more seconds for him to cum, thighs twitching under your palms.
He tugs you off and kisses you after you swallow, tasting himself on your tongue.
“Let me clean you up,” he whispers after a few moments, observing how you’re still shaking from the aftershocks.
He leaves and comes back with a washcloth, wiping you clean and apologizing softly when you wince from oversensitivity.
Aaron even helps you get dressed (finds pajamas in a drawer for you and hands them to you) and makes sure you pee and brush your teeth.
When he starts gathering his things, you grab him. “Stay.”
He pauses and sighs, shirt bundled in his hand. He slips back into his boxers and slides under the duvet next to you.
“I’ll stay.”
.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊
When you wake up, Aaron is gone.
No note. No voicemail.
It stings. He’d even cleaned up the wine glasses and brought your necklace onto your nightstand.
When you stand, it aches, muscles exhausted. You shower slowly and pensively, chewing on your lip as you consider calling him.
You don’t.
You fix yourself coffee, eat some fruit and pancakes, and get ready for work. It’d be a long day standing and delivering orders with the way your muscles burned, but maybe it’d distract you.
You don’t even hear from him again for a week, and part of you is mad at him, but most of you is scared — you’d figured out that he deals with homicides and abductions that night, and there was a worry that took root and grew that he could be dead, and you wouldn’t know.
When you hear from him, it’s one a.m. on a Friday (Saturday, you suppose, since it’s past night).
“Hello?” You ask groggily, not having checked the caller I.D.
“__,” Aaron sighs out. He sounds relieved.
You tense. “Aaron.”
There’s awkward silence.
“Why are you calling?”
“I hadn’t heard from you all week,” he tells you, and your heart twists in your chest.
Who did he think he was, to sleep with you, leave without warning, and call like nothing happened?
“I wonder why,” you snap, voice bitter and biting.
Aaron sighs and shuffles.
More uncomfortable silence.
“Where did you go?”
“Home. I had to get dressed for work.”
You hope none of his team is around. You’re already upset enough just talking to him, and that’s without a team of whatever-the-fuck he does FBI agents listening in.
“No message?”
“Should I have left one?” Aaron sighs, and you can practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’re not dating, __.”
“Yeah. I can tell.” You scoff. “Then why do you care that I didn't call you?”
“I like your company, you know that.”
“You do a hell of a job making it clear.”
Eyes burning with tears you’re holding back, you finally ask.
“What do you want, Aaron?”
“To talk.”
“No,” you grouse, wiping the tear that rolls down your cheek.
“__, please, come on.”
“Come on?” You repeat, incredulous. “Aaron, I like you. You used me for sex and left. I’m fucking pissed at you,”
“You’re too young for me.” Aaron sighs. “I’m always at work. It’s dangerous work, too. You could have any guy,”
“Yeah. A shame I want you. And my age didn’t seem to matter last week. If you don’t want to date me, just say it!”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“That I want to see you.”
“No. Please… stop calling me,”
You hope he doesn’t hear the choked sob that leaves your lips as you hang up.
.°. ݁₊ . ݁ ⁺₊
You ignore him for two weeks pretty well, pretending to be gone or asleep every time he rings the doorbell, tossing out his sad attempts at cookies (even if you feel like crying knowing he can’t make cookies or bake for shit and is doing it just for you), letting the flowers he placed die on your stoop.
The first time you hear about him again — he hadn’t left messages in a few days — is actually at work.
A younger man, about your age, boyishly cute and nothing like who you wanted, comes in and smiles at you.
“Hey, do you have any like… special drinks?” He’s stuttering. “My friend—boss?— recommended this place, said you had lattes I might like.”
The gears turn a little.
(There’s someone on my team who would drink it. 
I want you to try it, Aaron.
I don’t do sugar in my coffee, __. But he does, I swear it’s more sugar than coffee sometimes. I’ll let him know the name of your café.
Should I be expecting him?
Yeah, maybe. His name’s Spencer. He’s a good kid.)
“Boss?”
“Yeah! We work together, but we’re also friends, but he could fire me, so I never know how to introduce him.”
You giggle slightly. “Um, well, we have a seasonal drink.” 
You rattle off the options and ingredients, and when he finally decides on his order, he blinks at you a few times.
“You know, your name is familiar. __.” He’s trying to place it.
With a smile, you glance at him. “What’d you say yours was? For the order.”
“Spencer.”
Bingo.
You write it on the cup and look to see if there’s a line. There isn’t. You hand the cup to the other barista working with the order ticket.
“Where’d you say you worked, Spencer?”
“I didn’t. But I work at the FBI in the BAU—that’s the behavioral analysis unit. We do something called profiling to catch unsubs, unknown subjects, who commit a variety of different crimes.”
You nod. 
Profiler. 
You’d think someone who knows the human condition and behavior so well would know not to leave a girl without a goodbye when you slept together the night before.
“Your boss, his name Aaron?”
“Hotch.” Spencer supplies automatically before his ears catch up. “Wait, yeah. Aaron Hotchner. You know him?”
You smile tightly, not sure what he’s shared with his team. With the BAU. “We’re neighbors.”
Spencer grins. “You should come in and surprise him! He’s been bothered by something lately, but he won’t tell any of us why. Maybe he’ll tell you.”
You tense. “You all sound like a nosy bunch, Spencer,” you hope your voice comes across light and playful enough. You thank your coworker for his coffee and say “I’m also on shift. Here’s your coffee. Have a good day.”
He smiles and says “you too!” and turns around. He almost bumps into someone immediately and you hear a rush of apologies as he looks at his watch and hurries out of the café.
You sigh.
All day, what Spencer said runs through your mind. Had he really been struggling? He had to be, assuming Spencer didn’t know you… and if Aaron is as private as you think he is, Spencer definitely doesn’t know you.
When you get home, Aaron is waiting on your doorstep, and it takes everything in you to not turn around and get right back in your car, drive somewhere for dinner.
“__,” his voice is pleading, broken and soft.
“Aaron, please,” you sigh. “I’m tired of the excuses.”
“I know. I know. Let’s talk. Actually.”
You huff.
“... I’ll talk. You listen. I’m the one who has apologizing to do,”
“First right thing you’ve said in a while,” you mumble bitterly, brushing past him to unlock your door. “Come on.”
He follows you slowly, and one glance at his face fills you with guilt. He looks like a kicked puppy. 
Damn him and his pretty brown eyes.
You settle on the couch with wine. “Go on,”
Aaron swallows. “I… got a call. A work call. At three. After we slept together, I needed to run to grab all my things, get new clothes… 
It was a brutal case. The… the guy — we caught him — was killing girls who looked like you. And, selfishly, I thought, maybe if I just ignored you I wouldn’t be worried. And that you’d be okay, that it didn’t matter to you like it mattered to me. 
But I kept seeing him kill you in my nightmares, and I knew I needed to focus on work before he killed another innocent woman. That if I called you, I’d break down and be a burden on the team and the case.
And I know that’s not good enough, I should’ve left a message or called anyway.
I do like you. And your age is part of me not calling, I just don’t know if it’s right. For me to want you.”
He pauses and stares into your eyes before looking to the ground. “I don’t care if it’s right anymore. I do want you. When I close my eyes before bed, I see your smile, I think of you, and I just,” he digs his nails into his thighs, exhales heavily. “I want you so fucking bad,”
You swallow. “Care to show me?”
“Not tonight.” Aaron sighs. “I don’t want… I don’t want it to seem like I just want your body.”
“Even if I say it’s okay?”
“Even then,” he leans over and kisses you. 
Sweetly. Romantic, even.
“Let me make it up to you. What do you say about dinner tomorrow?” He rubs his thumb over your cheek. “Let me show you that I want you,”
“Sounds good, Hotchner.”
His brows shoot up. “How do you know my last name?”
“Well, I met this guy,” you say teasingly. “His name’s Spencer. Ring a bell?”
Aaron curses. “Did he say anything?”
“Just that you seemed down. He didn’t know anything, I just said you were my neighbor. Why, did you miss me? That why you were so miserable?”
“Yeah.” It’s the most confident he’s sounded all night. “Going forward…” he pauses. “Just slap me if I’m being an ass. I thought I was going crazy not being able to see you.”
685 notes · View notes
letstripdotcom · 2 months
Text
truth- matt sturniolo x fem!reader
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a/n- i’m obsessed with matt in this car video⬆️
summary- you’re curious on how good your sex is so you ask the one person who you know will be brutally honest.
warnings- smut. that’s all🕺🕺
-
“i wish i could be a man but not me so then I could have sex with myself and tell myself if it’s good or not” i rambled on the phone with one of my best friends, nick sturniolo.
“y/n what the fuck?” he laughed. “i mean i- i don’t know it’s just a thought.” i sighed. “well if i liked women i would have sex with you” “thanks nick” i giggled
“why not just ask someone you’ve had sex with?” he asked very casually. “i don’t know i just feel like they wouldn’t be brutally honest” “yeah i guess you’re right. i mean you could always just ask a friend do have sex with you” he suggested.
“yeah, but who?” there was a moment of silence and thinking “mason?” he tilted his head “i haven’t talked to him in months, i feel like that would be way too awkward.” there was another brief pause “noah is cool what about him?”
“i’m pretty sure he had something going on with paisley.” “well fuck” nick said. “well i love you dearly but i gotta go. talk you you later love youuu!” he hung up the phone. i sat down an let out a long sigh. i don’t know why i was so bothered by this.
-
i pondered on the subject for days, until i found answers upon overhearing a conversation between matt and chris. i didn’t hear the whole thing but i did manage to overhear matt say “do you ever wonder if your dick is too small but everyone who has seen it is just to embarrassed to tell you?”
matt! it was perfect. i needed answers and so did he. the plan was to have sex with matt and you would tell him if his dick is small and he’ll tell me if my sex is any good. but how would i even approach that? “hey matt let’s have sex because we’re both insecure” yeah no
i sat on the sturniolos couch as you waited for the pair to go up to their rooms. when they were finally settled in upstairs, i started thinking of how you were going to ask matt. i decided to just go for it.
-
matty b
you
hey matt are you up?
matty
yeah what’s up?
you
well this may seem insane so you can say no if you want but i overheard you talking to chris earlier and i was wondering if we could make a deal.
matty
i’m listening
you
so i was wondering if we could like have sex? and i could tell you if your dick is small and you tell me if my sex is good. and we have to be brutally honest
matty
upstairs in 10?
you
see you then.
-
i shut off my phone and mentally prepared myself for what was to come. normally having sex never made me nervous, but first thing, this is matt. second thing, he’s actually gonna be brutally honest. what if i’m awful? and as bad as it sounds, what if his dick is small?
after 10 minutes passed, i headed upstairs to matt’s room. i knocked on his door and he opened it shortly after, wearing grey pajama pants and no shirt. i examined his body carefully.
the veins in his tattooed arm that’s holding the door open. the way his pants hung low on his small waist, revealing part of his boxers. his v line. his messy hair. i started to get nervous. please don’t be bad. i said to myself.
“we’ll come in” he said nervously, stepping out of the way. “so how are we gonna go about this?” i shrugged. “well we could-“ matt stopped. his hand reached out and cupped the back of my head, pulling me into a kiss.
once i eased into it, it was nice. matt’s lips were soft and plump, and he was very gentle. his unoccupied hand made its way to my waist, gently rubbing it. his tongue grazed my bottom lip, asking for access to the inside of my mouth. i let him in, and his tongue explored all of my mouth.
matt was a really good kisser and it was really turning me on. he gently made his way from my lips, to my jaw to my neck. he suckled gently enough not the leave any marks. i let out a quiet breathy moan.
he positioned both hands under my shirt and slid it off my body. he started to kiss the bare skin on my chest. wow he knows what he’s doing. he guided me to his bed and sat me on top of him.
i raked my nails gently down his bare chest, meeting the waistline of his pants. i looked at him for permission to continue and he nodded. i pulled his pants off, leaving him in his boxers.
i leaned forward and kissed him, grinding on his bulge that was only being held back by one thin layer of clothing. he grunted which seemed like a good sign
he reached around me and unhooked my bra, sliding it off. his mouth left mine and attached to one of my nipples, his hand massaging the other. i tossed my head back in pleasure. “fuck mattt” i whined. he hummed around my nipple causing me to grind harder onto him.
he separated from my chest and looked me in the eyes. “ready?” he asked “y-yeah” i nodded. he slipped down my shorts and underwear and i removed his boxers.
his dick sprung up and slapped his stomach. i swallowed nervously. definitely isn’t small. all the more reasons to be nervous. i looked at it with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape.
“well?” he muttered. “umm..” i paused trying to find words “definitely not small. like at all. you have nothing to worry about” i rambled “okay” he laughed. “well, my turn i guess” i sigh, lifting myself up. i slowly start to sink my way onto him. he lets out a broken whimper.
“i- fuck f-feels so good already” he gasps. i exhale the breath i didn’t know i was holding. i adjust to his size before bouncing slowly, wincing at the slight stretch. i moan at the feeling of my sticky walls hugging him.
i gradually speed up my pace. his hips start to buck upwards, meeting me halfway. this helps achieve a deeper angle. “g-good. you feel so good baby” i moan and clench at the way he said ‘baby’
“keep clenching and i won’t last much longer” he breathes. “i’m so close” i moan. “fuck y/n” he whines. i clench again, my stomach muscles tightening. “f-fuck say my name like that again” i beg “y-y/n” he moans, his voice cracking.
i came all over his dick, my legs a twitching mess. “yes yes yes. fuck matt” i whine as i ride his to his release. “i’m cumming. f-fuck yes. oh feels so good” he shouts praises as he cums. i lift myself off of him and sit down, catching my breath.
“so?” i asked. “fuck that was amazing, you have nothing to worry about. he lets out shaky breaths and collapses into my chest.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••
a/n- didn’t know how to end this but enjoy 😜
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writa-anon · 19 days
Text
"is that.. supposed to be me?"
francis mosses (the milkman) x artist!reader
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a / n ~ boom! first fanfic :3 i was a little inspired by uh.. myself LOL when i started playing tnmn i realized i was horrible at memorizing faces so i started drawing the characters to help me remember and it works sooo much. but anyway, super cute oneshot where they first meet, hope u enjoy :D
content included ~ isaack mauss, francis mosses, reader is an artist and doorman, no pronouns mentioned for reader, use of (y/n), shy n wholesome first encounter
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 4.10.24 | 1.6k words
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Another slow day at work, huh?”
A enthusiatic-ridden voice boomed, instinctively making me look up to meet the gaze of a strong-jawlined man. I cleared my throat and placed my pencil on the scratchy sheet of paper, sitting up in my chair.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Gauss.” I greeted, grinning that customer-service smile.
“Good afternoon, (y/n). I assume work is treating you well?” He said before sliding both his ID and request form through the letter hole. “Only your third day and you’re occupying yourself with side hobbies!” He exclaimed, squinting a little to see my doodle through the glass screen. I chuckled a little as I examined his ID.
“Eh, yeah..” I sighed. “But this actually helps with my job, believe it or not!” I said proudly, pulling out the floor 2 folder to compare his ID number. “I’ve been drawing neighbors in order to remember their features better. It’s especially helpful because of my terrible memory.” I said, shaking my head. Isaack simply chuckled as I placed the folder to the side as I went through his request form.
“That’s pretty smart.” He commented. “Who have you drawn so far?” He asked, curiously tilting his head. As I went through the checklist as I idly thought to myself.
“Umm..” I hummed. “The Schmitts and the Mikaelys are definitely in here.” I finished up the last check before rolling back to my sketchbook, using my finger to thumb through the pages.
“Unfortunate. I haven’t been drawn yet.” He faked pouted. I rolled my eyes before flipping one or two pages before presenting the portrait to him.
“I’m not necessarily finish. Your face is pretty hard to encapture.” I sighed, looking at the smears of led blended together. Isaack was something of a character: a big prominent smile that is not hard to catch a glimpse of in a room full of people. His hair perfectly styled each morning that still manages to maintain its shape by the end of the day. His voice had depth to it, almost like he was born to be the daily news reporter for radios and TVs of all kind. He stared at the drawing in satisfied awe before leaning back.
“Wow, it surely is accurate!” He beamed. I smiled proudly before placing my sketchbook down.
“Thank you,” I politely nodded. I slid his ID back through the letter box. “Everything seems to be good to go. You’re allowed in, Mr. Gauss.” He nodded in his head in gratitude, but however, did not my window just yet. He took a minute to ponder, as if contemplating his next move, before beaming his teeth once again.
“Ah, before I go,” he quickly inputed. “is there by chance Francis Mosses is on today’s list? He’s the local milkman around here.”
I raised my eyebrow a little, not exactly sure as to why Isaack chose to bring up this person’s name. I shook my head gently before folding my arms in front of me. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gauss, but I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information for you.”
“—Ah, of course.” Isaack quickly fixed himself, putting his hands up a little in defense. “I understand. I was just curious is all. I’m sure you know him though, no?” Thinking for a minute, I’ve realized that this is a neighbor I have not encountered yet.
“No, actually..” I pondered out loud. “Huh, that’s interesting. I guess he works a morning or night shift because the name doesn’t really ring a bell.” I noted out loud.
“Interesting.” He muttered. “Well, keep the name in mind. He’s a rather interesting person, and I think you would find him just as interesting.” Before I could say anything else, he gestured a quick wink before walking through the unlocked door. I quickly snapped out my thoughts before locking the door back up again.
Isaack never really mentioned other names— it wasn’t necessarily out of character, but it felt a little outlandish. I looked down to see my pencil in hand again and blank surface of paper. My eyes trailed over to the paper taped on to the wall next to my window, realizing that Frances was in fact on today’s check-in list. Out of curiousity, I located his room number before surfing through the folders. After locating folder 3 and apartment 02, I was able to find more about him.
He was a slim, tall man with a crooked nose and ruffled brown hair. His eye bags were prominent from what I assume to be lack of sleep. As I stared at his picture, my hand moved by itself across my sketchbook, forming a circle to start defining out the headshape. I squinted slightly, trying to feel for each detail in his face. From the way his eyebrows were rotated a little outward, defining more of his tired expression, to the bump in his nose bridge, making it a bit more interesting to draw. It was mesmerizing, almost wishing I could sit here and draw his face in perso—
tap, tap!
I nearly jumped out of my seat. The pencil flung out of my hand, rolling off of the desk. My eyes flickered up—
and there he was.
My breath near caught in my throat as I stared up in shock. The man behind the glass was barely shocked to see my reaction. His white “milkman” hat rested perfectly on top of his brown hair with small curls slightly peaking out. I was swift to regain my composure in my head as I folded my hands in front of me with my legs crossed under the desk.
“Good afternoon, sir.” I smiled. “I haven’t seen you before. ID and entry request?”
He let out a small hum, barricaded by his pink lips, as he took out his paper and ID. He politely slid them through the letter slot before I took the items to examine.
“Mr. Francis Mosses.. Lives on floor 03.. Room 02.. Coming from work as a milkman.” I glanced up to look at him, comparing the photo ID to his face. His expression was exactly alike: tired eyes, slight frown on the lips, crooked nose, and a clean shaven face. I double checked with his file already on my desk, making sure that the ID numbers and the description aligned with his ID. “Everything looks good.” I confirmed as I slid his ID back to him.
“Mmm.. Thank you.” He hummed. I turned around to place his request form in a folder, but once I sat back up, I realized he was still standing at the window, curiously staring through the glass. I raised my eyebrow a little, confused as to why he was still lingering.
“I’m sorry, did I forget something?” I asked. Francis shook his head before pointing down at my desk.
“Is that.. Supposed to be me?” He asked. A tiny bit of emotion seeped into his voice, dripping in interest and curiousity.
“I— oh—” I looked down to see the rough drawing of Francis sitting at my desk, drawn with sketch lines still lightly defining his features, while the harder drawn areas sculpted his prominent details. “Yeah..” I mumbled. “I-I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable!” I exclaimed. “It’s just a way to help me remember faces and I was going through the files and I realized I haven’t met you before so I—”
“You make me look so pretty.” He mumbled, almost breathlessly. A faint pink color brushed his cheeks as he was unable to take his gaze away from the paper.
“W-Well.. I do aim for accuracy.” I chuckled, complimenting the man right back. My nerves had calmed down after noticing his calm demeanor. “You could keep it, if you’d like that is.” I offered. It would be awkward if I kept the drawing rather than give it to him— I mean— this is his first time ever seeing me and it was an awkward first interaction right off the bat. It was the least I could do for him. Francis nodded his head and in response, I tore the piece of paper out of the scrapbook before sliding it through the letter slot.
“There you go.” I smiled.
“Thank you..” He replied, graciously taking the piece of paper and admiring it once again. “Oh— um,” He quickly looked up to me. “What is your name? I’m sorry, I’m not really good with.. Introductions.” He trailed off, but something about his shyness and reluctant voice made me grin even harder.
“My name is (y/n). I’m the doorman in training for this building.” I greeted.
“Ah, of course. I’m Francis— Mmm..Though you already know that.” He said, shaking his head a little by the end of his sentence.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Francis. I’ll be seeing you around, I assume?” I said, sitting at the edge of my chair as I looked up at him.
“More often than before.” He smiled. It was the widest he’d grin throughout our whole conversation. Something inside me told me that he doesn’t pass around smiles like that easily. It made me feel accomplished in some sort of way. But with that, he departed from my window. I made sure to unlock the door and listen for the door closing behind him before locking it again.
Francis Mosses.
I think I have someone to look forward to on tomorrow’s entry list.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
really hoped you enjoyed! replies, reblogs, and even likes are super appreciated! thank you so much for reading :]
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too-deviant · 1 month
Text
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jackie and wilson.
previous | next series masterlist.
summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.
paring: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader
word count: 4k
content: luke is still a moody teenager, reader is still the fly he cant get rid of. does he really want to, though?
notes: these first two parts feel very introductory but it gets juicy as we dive a little further in the next parts hehe. also who do we think readers godly parent is?
PART II — and lord, she found me just in time 
For a hotshot lawyer, your mom couldn’t lie for the life of her. Every time you brought it up, she’d always quip that she didn’t need to be a good liar to be a good lawyer, since all new evidence is legally required to be disclosed to both parties before they are presented in court. Therefore, there is no lying, only brief twisting of the truth. She was good at that — clearly. 
“You said you didn’t want me to leave you!” 
The wooden floor of Chiron’s office wasn’t the most comfortable of lounging places, but you’d accidentally kicked the radiator after tripping over a horseshoe and Mr. D — who had escorted you there when you’d asked about speaking to your mom — had just sighed and told you to use the mist currently spraying from it as a form of communication. The whole Iris Message thing was still unusual to you, but at the same time, you’d tripped over a horseshoe because the owner of the office was half-horse. Does it get weirder than that? Probably not. 
You leaned back on your haunches, disbelief written all over your face at the scene you…walked in on? Called in on? Iris Messaged in on? Whatever — you were more worried about what you were looking at than the right terminology to describe it. 
“Oh — sweetie!” Your mom was quick to hop down from the kitchen counter, pushing the man who had been standing between her legs away from her so forcefully he fell back into the living room. 
“What was that?” You heard him ask from afar. Your mom chuckled, buttoning up her blouse. 
“The answering machine.” She excused, “I completely forgot I was supposed to call back my daughter. Would you give me a minute?”
The man agreed with a huff and your mom pushed the kitchen door closed with a click before looking at you, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “I didn’t. I sure do now!”
“I’ve been gone for, like, two days!” You exclaimed, “And you’re already inviting your boyfriend over? How old are you?”
“Oh, let it go.” The woman chastised, shaking her head and attempting to push down her amused smile. “I was bored.”
“Bored.” You chuckled, “Of course.”
“But I miss you.” She said then, smiling sweetly and leaning her hip on the island, “How’s camp?”
“It’s great.” You grinned, “The people are great, the food is great. Turns out, I am super with a spear.”
“A spear, huh?” Your mom nodded, “No surprise there, you’ve got a hell of an arm.”
You hummed excitedly, the previous event long forgotten as you filled her in on your first few days at camp, “One of my friends in cabin nine offered to make me a personal one.” Your mom furrowed her brows, “Children of Hephaestus. Blacksmith guy.”
“Right.” She nodded with a click of her tongue. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” You smirked cheekily, ignoring the scoff and evil look she sent you in response. 
“Alright. I best go.” She interrupted just as you went to make another comment about her guest, “I will see you at the end of summer. Okay?” 
“Okay. Love you.” 
Truthfully, you were happy to spend the rest of the day talking to your mom — it was so hot that morning that you’d thought about sacrificing your breakfast to Apollo in hopes that he’d ease up a little. You decided against it and just sent your prayers to each of them in general, hoping maybe your dad could fess up to actually being your dad. 
Clarisse had suspected you would soon join her in the Ares Cabin — something about your skills with a spear and the swift right hook you sent Chris when he made one too many comments on your form during your training session with her. You weren’t even sure why he’d been there, but you could probably fathom a guess if you judged by the looks he sent her whenever she wasn’t looking. 
After the exciting discovery that yes, you were good at something, Mr. D had come by to say you could either call your mom now or never. You chose the former option, obviously, and you only regretted it slightly as you heaved yourself up from the ground — already missing the sound of her voice. 
You didn’t let it linger, instead you pushed the creaky door of the Big House open as gently as you could, even though it still swung back against the wall, and nodded at the pair sitting on the porch, currently in a heated card game you couldn’t recognise. They didn’t look at you for long, Chiron muttering something about meeting the Demeter kids by the fields to test your gardening skills before putting down a card that made Mr. D grumble in his seat. 
You were trudging through the grass, huffing when the longer bits tickled your legs and made you go all itchy, when you spotted a body sat by the hearth in the horseshoe of cabins. You lit up, changing course and jogging over to them, “JoJo!”
Luke looked up at you, frowning, “What?”
His curls fell over his eyes and he shook them away, only to squint at the sun that shone into them. You sidestepped, your shadow proving ample shade so he could focus on you, and you stammered a bit when his face fell into focus. He was pretty. 
You let out a breathless chuckle, folding your arms, “From Horton Hears a Who.” He shows no signs of recognition, “You’ve never seen it?” Again, his face did little to answer you, so you shrugged, “Whatever. I’ll get an answer out of you one day, I’m sure. We’ve made steady progress.”
“Have we?” He hummed, picking at the worn sleeve of his hoodie. 
“Of course we have, ya’ nutmegger.” You quipped with a short chuckle, grinning when his eyes snapped back to yours. 
“You still haven’t told me where you’re from.” 
You tutted, “Where’s the fun in that? You gotta find out.”
He huffed, “Whatever.”
Since his outburst about New England the day before, Luke had done a considerable job at avoiding you. Well, you didn’t think he was doing it on purpose — he just wasn’t obligated to spend time with you anymore now that you were cleared to roam camp on your own. You’d seen him at breakfast, perched silently on the end of the bench and staring sadly at his soggy oatmeal, but then Clarisse had whisked you off to the training fields with Chris hot on her tail and you hadn’t seen him since. 
You weren’t completely sure why you were so determined to break his shell. Maybe it was because you knew he never used to be this way — that underneath the deep frowns and annoyed huffs, was a happy boy who would spend days in the sun with his teeth bared in a wide grin — and you yearned to get a peek of who Luke Castellan used to be. To bear your eyes on the side of him he kept away and to find out why he did so, to understand him on a level deeper than anyone around you did, or even deeper than you understood yourself. 
Or maybe because he’s hot. 
Either way, you weren’t letting him slide away that easily. No sir. You straightened your back, “Going to the gardens.” 
No reply, as usual. 
A huff, “Mind walking me? I don’t wanna get lost.”
He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and standing, “Fine.”
You grinned then, wide and sunny, “Great.”
You knew where the gardens were — hell, you could see them from where you stood, the two teenage sons of Dionysus chasing each other with sticks while the Demeter kids scowled at them. But you were new, and Luke was ‘the guy’ for all the new campers, so really he wasn’t allowed to say no. 
You were desperate to know more about him; his favourite sport, movie, colour. Anything irrelevant that you could see in public and think: Luke. You just didn’t know where to start — he could shut down at any given moment, so which question was more fitting to ask before he built up his walls and fucked off? 
You settled for something easy — something subtle that wouldn’t hint towards you asking about him. An easy question that any reasonable tour guide would have to answer. 
“So, do you guys host any…mortal activities?” Looking up at him in question, brows raised as he once again made no indication that he’d even heard you speak. 
But he had, “Not usually. Sometimes on weekends we’ll play volleyball on the beach, and I think Lee Fletcher has a soccer ball he kicks around but…” He shrugged, “No. Not really.”
You hummed, “You said we. Do you play volleyball?”
Nice one. 
Luke stiffened a little, sort of appalled that you’d swerved the question on him so easily, but he answered with a grumble, “Not anymore.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, “Grew out of it.”
“Huh.” You said then, facing forward with a nod and continuing your trek through the long grass, occasionally reaching down to scratch your calves, “I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of baseball.”
Come on, Castellan, take the bait. 
“Baseball?”
“Yes!” You exclaimed, a little too excitedly for it to be a simple answer to a simple question. You lowered your volume and gave a more collected nod, “Yeah. Yes. I’ve played since I was old enough…little league.” You let out a weak chuckle, suddenly shy about the subject. 
Luke nodded at you, “First base?”
“Left field.” You corrected with a proud smile, “I got legs.”
“Oh.” He replied, a little caught off guard at that. Although, he was also caught off guard when you said you played baseball. 
You were debating whether or not to press when a gangly blonde boy with dark purple eyes jogged up to you and held out a wicker basket, “You’re the new kid right?” He didn’t wait for an answer before thrusting the basket to your chest, “I’m Pollux. We’re picking strawberries, c’mon, I’ll show you the best way to get ‘em.”
You weren’t sure there was a specific tactic to picking strawberries, but you stepped to follow him anyway. Turning your head to send a thankful smile to Luke for walking you down, you spotted him looking between you and Pollux with furrowed brows — then he noticed your stare and swallowed, nodding, “Uh, see you later.”
“Bye.” You replied, slightly starstruck. He walked off, but he did it slowly as if he was unsure of where to go next. You were positive he had somewhere to be — big shot counsellor and all — but as you stood, one foot in front of the other, face turned back to watch him go, he seemed to stutter in his steps at the top of the hill, deciding where to turn. His beaten converse led him west, and Pollux yelled you out of your stupor so you could help him and his brother pick strawberries. 
As suspected, your strawberry-picking skills were pretty much the same as everyone else’s — really, how can one person be any better at picking strawberries than another? It’s a very simple task. Either way, Castor and Pollux didn’t envision you as their long lost sister, and the Demeter kids apparently couldn’t smell it on you that you were one of them, whatever that meant, so you were back to your search for daddy dearest — at this point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to find out anymore. All this hassle and for what? It’s not as if he was going to attend the daddy-daughter dance with you, no matter which god he might be. 
“So, do you, like, know Luke or something?” 
Henry Furstatt was a Demeter kid a couple of years younger than you, who had been set the task of walking you to the lake where you would rejoin the Hermes cabin on their canoe lesson. He wasn’t very talkative until you’d put some distance between yourselves and the strawberry fields, where he posed his question. 
You glanced at him with a thoughtful frown, “I mean, he’s been showing me around the past couple days, so…I guess —“
“I meant like,” He swallowed, waving his hands around, “from before. Did you know each other before you came to camp?”
“Oh.” You responded, tucking a loose hair that had fallen in front of your face away, “No. Why’d you think that?”
Henry shrugged, his loose-fitting camp shirt doing wonders to hide the movements, “Dunno. He just hasn’t talked to many people since he got back from his quest…but he’s talking to you.”
“Well.” You were suddenly a little sheepish — were you pushing Luke too much? Was your constant questioning making him uncomfortable? You were only on a mission to find out more about him because he interested you, but did you interest him, or was he ready to boot you as far as you’d fly? “He has to, doesn’t he? He’s still a counsellor, even if he does hate everyone here.” 
“True.” He settled with a nod, fiddling with a daisy he’d picked while you were walking. 
You breathed a content sigh when you finally stepped out of the grass — the summer blooming made it slightly unbearable to walk through, tickling at your legs the whole afternoon. The beating sun didn’t make you feel any nicer, but you just wafted your shirt a little as you walked past the Hermes cabin and towards the dock. 
Camp was always noisy; something you’d grown accustomed to the longer you stayed there. You never really noticed it until you were alone, but the chatter of the kids filled the air the whole day and only really faded out when they all went to sleep. It was slightly unnerving to sit in the silence, and the loud murmurs often comforted you — made you feel less suffocated as the new kid. Less eyes on you, the better. 
You were so used to the noise, in fact, that you almost completely brushed past the argument that was brewing outside the Ares cabin just a few metres away. Fortunately, Henry spotted the commotion, and pulled you to a halt in favour of staring at the ever-growing crowd. 
You followed his eyeline and spotted a burly looking boy with black hair — when he moved his head and the sun hit the right spots, you could see dark red highlights swimming in his locks. You thought that was a little bit much, but you forfeited commenting on it considering the giant machaira that hung on his back. 
The boy in question was sneering at someone in front of him, but the corners of his mouth were perked up in an amused smile that made you think he wasn’t angry yet, but he sure was getting there. You couldn’t see who he was talking to, but as Henry ventured closer, you were forced to follow and eventually his words reached your ears. 
“—big shot golden boy finally got himself a quest and doesn’t fancy sharing the details.” He laughed, deep and low in his throat. 
Henry patted someone on the shoulder, and they stepped aside to let him into the circle. You stayed behind him, watching over his head and finally checking out the opponent. Your eyes stopped on the familiar figure, and his familiar curls that hung over his eyes — eyes that were glaring daggers in the Ares kid’s direction, casting shadows over his cheekbones and making his scar look a little menacing. 
The boy continued after Luke showed no signs of replying, “We get it, Castellan. You failed, but that doesn’t mean you get to gatekeep the whole thing.”
“Dean, man.” You finally noticed Chris, standing off to the side of Luke and glancing at his brother in apprehension at the boy's words. “Back off.” 
Dean just snorted, “Don’t defend him, Rodriguez. We let him mope, now it’s time for him to spill the beans.” He took a step closer to Luke, “What happened on your quest?” 
You had only known Luke for two days. You weren’t sure if he was the type to fly off the handle, swing before reasoning, but you suddenly became aware that neither did anyone else. Sure, these people had known him for years — but you’d heard it from enough people to know that he was a different person these days. After his quest a couple of weeks ago, people had been walking on eggshells around the boy. Maybe a month ago, he would’ve calmly walked away and let Dean simmer in his anger. But now? Nobody could be sure, but judging by the look in his eyes, darkening by the second, you might be able to fathom a guess as to what he’s going to do with his hands now that they were rolled into fists. 
“I mean, is this about glory? Because you won’t exactly be sharing it — ya’ can’t share what you don’t have.”  Dean let out a chortle at his own joke, looking between his friends around him and grinning with them. 
Luke stepped forward. And — you couldn’t blame anyone, really. After that last comment, you were all expecting fists to be swung. It was only reasonable. Maybe the old Luke wouldn’t have done it, but this new Luke was looking increasingly more angry at the world as the days went by, so when he took one measly step forward, the crowd around him let out a collective woah! and put their hands out to stop him from lunging. Including yourself. 
Only he wasn’t about to punch Dean. His hand stayed dormant at his side, the only clear movement was the single step closer he’d taken to match the one the Ares boy had made earlier. He was only really stepping forward so his next words would hit harder — that’s all it was, words. They died on his lips when he realised the implications of his actions, looking between the outstretched arms and tense faces. 
He looked at Dean, “We can discuss quests when you get your own.” 
Then he walked off, past the crowd that didn’t bother stopping him. Looking around, you saw the looks on their faces — shame, from assuming Luke would evoke such violence off the sparring mat. You definitely felt it, but you didn’t stick around long enough to confirm that with anyone else. Instead, you left Chris to berate Dean in place of the head counsellor and followed the boy in question as he huffed up the hill towards the edge of the woods. 
“Hey!” You said, breathless (you were not an uphill climber). “Hey, Luke!”
He hesitated in his steps like he did earlier, but he didn’t turn around. His head twitched a little, like he wanted to look but was holding himself back, but you simply rounded him until you were face to face. The anger had long since dissolved from his expression, replaced with soft confusion. 
“Hi.” You huffed, still recovering from that incline, “Are you okay? That guy’s a dick.”
“I know.” He replied, short as usual. 
You licked your lips, still catching your breath, and nodded. He remained silent, looking around you like he was just waiting for you to leave. You decided to take the hint, muttering lowly, “Okay, sorry for bothering you.” 
But his hand reached out, circling your wrist just as you passed him. You looked at Luke, raising your eyebrows, watching as he stammered on his words, “I, uh, you aren’t bothering me. I just…”
He let go of you and you stepped back to your precious spot. Behind him, the crowd had dissipated, Dean long gone. Chris remained, staring up at the pair of you on top of the hill. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression, but he seemed to hesitate before turning his back. You looked up at Luke. 
“Why did you…come after me?” 
You scoffed a laugh, “What? Anyone would’ve, it’s like…common decency.”
He twisted his expression, looking amused and devastated all at the same time, “But they didn’t.” 
He was right; before you’d set off up the hill, everyone had just been watching him walk off. It seemed a little out of character, but then again, you didn’t know these people as well as you thought. Luke let out a sad chuckle, shaking his head, “Everyone’s sorta given up on me now that I’m…”
“Moody and depressed?” You finished, raising a single brow. You smiled at him, and it lifted into a grin when he smiled back, albeit only slightly. But you’d take it. “I just think that they’re a little unsure.”
“They’re scared, is what they are.” He said firmly, staring at the ground in mirth, “Their precious golden boy won’t clean up all of their messes anymore and they’re scared that they’ll have to start looking after themselves.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” You said, even if you didn’t believe it. How could you? You didn’t know these people, Luke did. “They’re just worried about you.” 
He scoffed, finally moving his head up and meeting your eyes. He went to say something, presumably another quip about the campers, but stopped himself. Backtracked. Instead he said, “Aren’t you angry that you haven’t been claimed yet?”
That was a deep question. You sat on it for a couple of seconds, reeling at the sudden shift of conversation, until you finally let out a low puff of air and shrugged, “I don’t really know how I feel. Why? Should I be?” 
“This camp, it’s —“ He huffed, “It helps you, sure. But it also forces you to…mould yourself into the perfect kid for — for a parent who doesn’t care enough to watch you grow up. Help you live, use their divine powers when a dragon is clawing your fucking face off!” 
He’d stepped closer to you, unknowingly, that final shout making you wince a little at the volume. He stopped then, evening his breaths and stepping back with an apologetic expression. You brushed it off. 
“A dragon clawed your face off?” 
“Yeah.” He chuckled weakly, “Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.” 
You smiled at him, shamefully admiring his face. Now that he wasn’t glaring in anger, and his face was more relaxed, you could see the whites of his eyes. His lashes, unreasonably long, and his lips that were so plush you were close to asking him if he took a trip to see Dr Miami while he was on his quest. 
“Gods.” You murmured under your breath, “You’re so pretty it sorta pisses me off.” 
Luke laughed then — a genuine chortle that shook his chest and made passers by glance in his direction. His grin was uncharacteristically wide and for a second, a brief moment, you saw it. Luke Castellan, the one everyone looks up to. The one they turn to in times of peril, the one they giggle and gossip about under the shade of the fir trees. 
Then you knew your answer to Luke’s question. No — you weren’t angry that you hadn’t been claimed. In fact, you didn’t think you’d care even if you were so long as he was smiling at you like that. 
He calmed down, catching his breath, his face relaxing back into that cool expression he’s always got on. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you were sure he looked a little less tense than before. He nodded, waving a hand, “Alright, Sunny. Let’s go canoeing.” 
“Sunny?” You asked, walking alongside him. 
He clicked his tongue, glancing down at you, “If Apollo won’t claim you as a child of the sun, then I will.” 
“Alright.” You smiled softly, looking forward so he wouldn’t see it and run off. You picked at your nails, “So long as I can call you JoJo.” 
“Let’s watch that silly movie it’s from and I’ll decide if you can call me that.”
“Deal.”
🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons (comment to be added/removed!)
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disneyprincemuke · 6 months
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midnights, 2 * mv1
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you were in the middle of eating dinner alone when you got the feeling of getting punched in the gut
pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader
warnings: i specialise in angst and heartbreak so B)
notes: man i shouldve just written this when my breakup was fresh, because when i tell you my heart was BROKE… (i love oversharing)
(prev) // (next)
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your eyes are glued to your phone in your hand, as the other works the chopsticks to grab yourself some noodles. the tv is switched on in the background for some background noise.
the deafening silence in your apartment has haunted you for the past weeks since the breakup. to battle it, the tv is always turned on in your presence to keep you grounded.
you’ve been on instagram scrolling for about 5 minutes when a strange sensation hits you in your stomach. your throat feels weird, and your arms slowly start to feel numb.
you put the chopsticks down onto the plate that sat peacefully on your coffee table. you take a deep breath and lay your phone down on the carpet, looking around the emptiness of your apartment.
it’s the sudden realisation that you almost didn’t have a place to stay after the breakup. you had sublet the apartment your sister when you moved into max’s, and since she got engaged to her boyfriend and bought their own place, you’ve thought about putting it back on the market.
good thing you hadn’t.
it’s the weird void you felt in your chest sitting here all by yourself. being alone has never felt so definite until now.
the silence that creeps up on you every waking moment you’re in here miserably haunts you. you miss the sounds of clicking from max’s driving simulator, or the random clangs of things when the cats were in a mood, and the mews that conveyed dissatisfaction from the food bowl being empty.
your apartment is barely a shell of the home you’ve gotten used to.
you come home to nothing every day. no cats with their affectionate head rubs against your feet, and absolutely no loving boyfriend at the door whose hands cup your cheeks while he greets you with a loving kiss to your lips.
“-max verstappen scores at least three points in the sprint on saturday evening in losail, he will be crowned 2023’s champion.”
the mention of the name makes you lift your head to the tv. there’s your ex-boyfriend in all his glory, spraying champagne and having fun.
being this hung up about the breakup feels almost illegal; like you had the least right out of everyone to be so heartbroken, seeing as you did initiate it.
your phone lights up, notifications from alexandra and kika flooding your lock screen. you admire their determination — you haven’t picked up their calls and responded to text messages in almost 4 days.
you sigh and turn your head, eyes landing on the framed picture of you with the cats. you miss them terribly, almost as much as you miss the man himself. but it’s way more complicated than just dropping by into your old home to visit the cats.
victoria has mentioned to you that it’s no problem if you do in the week, since max is away for a race. you just couldn’t handle the thought to even be in that apartment. you’d just miss him way too much, and you would fold immediately.
but the constant fights that occurred towards the end of your relationship keeps reminding you to stay away. it’s unfair to keep holding on when it hurts you both.
your eyes linger on the frame that’s faced down on your entertainment centre. you have the picture in it memorised: you and max in abu dhabi under the fireworks when he won his first championship.
it was when he had first said he loved you.
how did it dwindle down so quickly? you could have sworn max was everything you wanted in a person. how did his little quirks you once loved about him be the same thing that drew you away?
you glance at the tv screen, the reporter moving on to other news. you’re holding your own hands back from chucking the tv remote at it.
“oh, god,” you mutter to yourself. the tv screen blacks out when you press the button on the remote.
you rub your forehead in frustration, feeling a headache creeping up from the back of your head. it’s the result from crying right before dinner.
the doorbell stops you from grabbing the faced down picture frame to hug— a habit you’ve gotten used to when you and max were separated due to work.
you tilt your head, eyebrows furrowing as you scramble to your feet. you push yourself off the floor and basically drag yourself over without asking who it is.
though, there’s a slight hope sparking up in your chest. could it be?
you unlock the door quickly, a small smile still stretching on your face when you realise who it is. it’s alexandra and kika, plastic bags decorating their hands and arms as they smile sadly at you.
“you really didn’t have to,” you frown, stepping aside and gesturing for them to come in.
“we can’t leave you all by yourself,” alexandra smiles, making a sharp turn for the kitchen.
you follow behind the pair, plastic bags laid down on the table slowly. it’s only then you realise the overnight bags on their shoulders, now neatly piled by the couch.
kika pulls out a bottle from a plastic bag, presenting it to you from where she is with a grin. “i am hoping you like red.”
“if you don’t,” alexandra pauses, taking out another bottle from another, “we have white wine.” she puts it down onto the table, slowly taking out bags of chips and tubs of ice cream. “but if you don’t feel like drinking, we have junk food.”
“we can eat our body weight,” kika smiles at you.
you frown, tears welling in your eyes at their thoughtfulness. “thank you,” you manage to huff out as your tears start falling out of your eyes. “this means so much to me.”
asking max for a breakup was never part of the plan that night. you still don’t even know where it came from because you know that you still want to be with him.
but when his silence filled the tiny room, eyes barely being able to meet yours, you knew that you basically had your answer. you didn’t fight for it any more after seeing the lifeless eyes that once used to be so bright.
maybe he had been beating around the bush. maybe he couldn’t bring himself to be the one to ask you for a breakup.
maybe you asking for it brought him relief, freeing him from the shackles of your deteriorating relationship.
in the flight back home, you were afraid that no one could ever love you as much as max did. but here are your friends, coming over unannounced to take care of you, despite the fact that you’ve been ignoring them.
kika and alexandra engulf you in a hug, one hand patting your hair and the other rubbing circles on your back. “we’re always here for you.”
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