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uluvjay · 5 months

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Christmas Realizations-D. Ricciardo

Daniel Ricciardo x wife! Reader

Christmas morning with your small family makes Daniel realize he wouldn’t mind another kid…as soon as possible

Warnings?; SMUT; breeding kink, unprotected sex, p in v, light fingering, slight cum play?, cursing, kissing, pregnancy, basically porn with a plot.

Day 5 of my ficmas celebration!

The sound of the bedroom door creaking open along with the soft struggles of his daughter climbing onto the bed is what woke Daniel up.

Opening his eyes he was met with the large toothless smile of his four year old, Gracie. The little girl was all Daniel on the inside but her hair and everything else was all you.

“Daddy, Get up it’s Christmas!” she beamed, face right in front of his.

“I am up baby, calm down” he laughed at her enthusiasm before continuing, “We gotta get mommy and Ollie up first.”

The small girl went to issue another complaint but was quickly interrupted by giggles as her father pulled her into his arms and blew raspberry’s into her cheek.

“Daddy! That tickles.” The girl laughed at the feeling of his beard against her skin.

The beautiful sound of their shared giggles is what woke you up to, turning to face the giggling pair you were met with large smiles as they realized you had woken up as well.

“Mommy! It’s Christmas, we have to get Ollie so we can go see if Santa came” the four year old beamed.

“Okay why don’t you go wake him up, me and daddy will be right behind you.” You replied softly, running a hand through her soft hair.

“Okay!” She cheered, sliding off the bed she took off down the hall to do her favorite part of the day, waking up her little brother.

“Morning Mama” Daniel smirked as he pulled you into him, his ringed hand taking place on the curve of your butt.

Your lips pulled up in a smirk that mirrored his as you leaned in and locked your lips, it was slow but hot and Daniel found himself releasing a groan as your tongue slipped into his mouth.

Pulling away from him you placed one more peck to his lips, “Morning daddy.”

And with that you were rolling away from him and pulling on your slippers to make your way towards your son’s room.

“Wait! Honey that’s not fair.” He grumbled, standing up to adjust the not-so-subtle erection in his pajama pants.

“Dad come on! You’re taking foreverrrr” your lovely daughter dramatically spoke once her father met the three of you at the top of the stairs.

“Oh hush the presents aren’t going anywhere.” He laughed as her little body took off down the stairs.

“Good morning my little man” Daniel smiled towards his son as he took him from your arms once you all made it to the living room.

“Hi dada.” The little boy smiled at his father.

Oliver Ricciardo was a spitting image of his father, he had everything from the eyes, to the smile, to the curls. You had felt as if it were Daniel who carried him for nine months.

“Ready to open some gifts?.”

“Yeah!” And with that Daniel sat his son down and watched him run over to you and his big sister on the carpet and begin to rip open the gifts that had taken you countless hours to wrap.

A few hours later after the excitement of new gifts had died down and the kids were finally laying down for a nap Daniel found you at the sink washing the dishes from breakfast.

“Hi mama.” He spoke as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder.

“Hi Danny.” You smiled

“So, I was thinking..”

“Oh god, that’s never good.” You laughed at the pinch his fingers left on your waist.

“First off rude, secondly I’m being serious.” He spoke softly.

At the sound of that you turned the running water off and turned to face him, you were met with warm but serious eyes.

“What’s been going through that head of yours?” You asked, hands moving up to wrap around his neck.

“Have you thought about having another one?” He asked.

“Another what?”

“Another kid, I mean Gracie started pre-k this year and watching her and Oliver this morning made me realize just how fast the time is going. Plus My contract is up in two years and I already told Christian I was done after that.

You stayed silent as you took in his words, kids had always been something you wanted and while your two held your heart in their small hands you knew you wanted another, but it was hard with Daniel being gone so much.

Noticing your hesitation Daniel spoke up again, “I won’t pressure you into another one, but think about it, we have the room and the process is pretty fun.” He smirked

He knew he got you at that, he didn’t buy a five bedroom house for no reason and the baby making sex was always some of the best sex you’d ever had.

“I guess a third one wouldn’t hurt.” You blushed.

“Yeah?” He asked, hands that had been contently resting on your waist moving down to your ass.

“Mhm”

“What d’you say we start right now?” He smirked down at you with darkening eyes.

“Daniel the kids are upstairs.” You giggled as his beard tickled the sensitive skin of your neck as he began to place kisses on the skin.

A surprised gasp escaped from you as your body was spun around and bent over the sink.

“Gotta be quiet then.” Daniel spoke in your ear as his body bent over your back.

He kissed down your cotton covered back until he reached the waistband of your pants, hands quickly pulling them down to reveal your cotton panties.

“So wet for me baby” he cooed, running a thick finger through your folds.

A shudder ran through your body at the feeling of his fingers coming into contact with your dripping folds, a shaky breath coming from you at the feeling the coldness of his wedding band as he pushed his ring finger into you.

“Danny, please.” You begged.

“Please what baby? What do you need.”

“Need you to fuck me, wanna be full of you.” You pleaded, turning your head to try and get a a glimpse of him.

“Yeah? Want me to fill you up? Want me to fuck you nice and full?” He growls.

“Yes, please Danny, please” you beg, smirking when you hear a breathless “fuck” behind you and the sound of his pants hitting the floor.

A small groan escapes Daniel as he pumps himself slowly, his free hand coming to rest on the back of your neck for leverage as he slides in slowly.

A choked gasp comes from your throat at how thick he is, it didn’t matter how many times Daniel fucked you it always felt like the first time.

However he doesn’t thrust up at first, teasingly grinding his hips allowing you to feel every ridge and vein on his cock.

“Daniel please go faster, wanna make you a daddy again.”

That was all it took for Daniel to lose his remaining self control, his hips snapping against yours at a fast pace while his hand remained on your neck to keep you in place.

Bringing a hand up to quite the lewd sounds escaping you wasn’t worth much because soon Daniel had a fist of your hair and used it to pull your back against his chest.

“Can’t wait to put another baby inside you, watch your stomach grow. Fuck your so hot when your pregnant.” He groaned into your ear, lips moving down to kiss along your neck.

Something carnal takes place in you when his hand comes to rub your stomach, hand going right over where your bump would start to form once you were pregnant.

“Dan-fuck, so good” you cried at the feeling of his tip nudging your most sensitive spot.

He turns your head to lock your lips, his mouth swallowing your cries as he continues to fuck into you at an ungodly pace.

His hand leaves your hair and a deep cry leaves your mouth as both of his large hands cup your breasts under your bra, fingertips pulling and pitching at the skin.

“Can’t wait to watch these grow, watch them get all swollen for me.” He growled.

His hands return to your waist as he begins fucking you harder and harder, his hips moving at a pace you’ve never experienced before. His movements never falter even as you reach a hand back in attempt to slow him down, he knows you can take it, and he knows you want this as bad as him.

“D-fuck, Daniel!, to much.” You cry as the pleasure completely takes over your body, the fire in your lower stomach getting hotter and hotter.

“Squeezing me so tight honey, fuck-can’t wait to fill you up.”

Daniel is met with loud cry as a he watches your body shake below his, hands gripping onto the edge of the sink for dear life.

“Danny, ca-can’t take anymore.” You cry as he continues to fuck you through your high, hips moving wildly as he chases a high of his very own.

“Almost there honey, just hang in there for me.” He groans, hands holding your waist so tight, he knows there will be bruises tomorrow, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.

You feel his thrusts become sloppy as a loud groan of his own escapes his throat, warmth spreading inside you as he paints your walls with his release.

“Fuck” he groans, chest heaving as he finally caught his breath.

“You good honey?”

His laugh fills the air as you give him a thumbs up, still a bit dazed from your orgasm. Gasps released from the both of you as Daniel pulled out.

You move to stand straight up but a hand on your back stops your movements, throwing your husband a confused look over your shoulder you move to speak but the feeling of his fingers running through your folds cut you off.

“Shit!, Daniel what the hell.” You cried.

“It’s dripping out of you sweetheart, gotta keep it in there. Make sure it sticks.”

February 14th, 2024

You smiled brightly at Daniel as you handed him the long box that was sealed with a pretty red bow.

“What? Honey this is unfair, I would’ve got you something. I thought we agreed no gifts.” He spoke once finished his bite of steak.

“Be quiet and open it.” You laughed.

With a taunting mock he opened the box, eyes growing wide as he looked at what sat inside.

“Shut up, are you serious?” He asked, holding the stick in his hand.

“Mhm”

“We did it? We’re gonna have another baby!?” He beamed brightly.

You nodded, breath getting stuck in your throat as the tears began to fall and within seconds Daniel was up and pulling you from your chair into his arms.

“I love you so fucking much.” He cried, pressing kisses all over your face before his lips finally found yours.

It was breathtaking and full of pure love, his hands tangled in your hair to keep you as close as possible.

“I love you more.” You smiled once the two of you parted.

“Do you know how far along you are?” He questioned.

“No, I took the test after I realized I had missed my period, probably no more than six weeks.” You spoke.

He gave you once more sweet kiss before he dropped to his knees in front of you, sticking his head under the skirt of your loose dress as he placed light kisses on your stomach.

“Hi baby, it’s dad. I know you probably can’t hear me yet but we love you so much and we’re so excited to watch you grow and eventually meet you. Now watch out because I’m taking momma upstairs to celebrate.” He spoke and with a finale kiss he was back on his feet and picking you up bridal style.

“Come on honey, gotta go celebrate.” He smirked as he took off up the stairs towards your bedroom.

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pushing500 · 7 months

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Henry has been following people around to watch them work all day, it's very sweet. He started by hanging out with Wookshys on the fishing bridge but got bored quickly and decided to trot around after Kaz like a little duckling instead.

Stared at this message for a few long minutes trying to work out how on earth Zonovo managed to "tuck a loose strand of hair" behind Baz's ear when Baz does not have hair. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that Zonovo tucked a strand of Zonovo's hair behind Baz's ear, and I could never resist drawing Zonovo with his hair down, so here you go.

Also loved that their smooches were immediately followed by a deep talk about death. Ah, romance...

Fafo is such a wonderful colonist to have. She's very talented, and I appreciate her a lot. Connie has been upset that her shoes are tattered, so maybe a pair of masterwork boots will make her stop complaining.

Then this happened, which was weird for a bunch of reasons, mostly because Andy is three and also we have no beer in the colony. Nothing actually happened after this notification- Kaz continued cooking, and Andy continued playing with the Comms Console.

The only person affected by this at all, in fact, seems to be Fafo, who now has a "jealous" mood debuff because Kaz was hanging out with someone else (even though he wasn't). I guess the pregnancy is taking its toll on her, poor thing.

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gracieheartspedro · 4 months

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No One Fucks With My Baby

pairing: fem!reader x dbf!joel miller (based on established back story from my oneshot Who We Are)

description: everyone now knows that you are joel's girl. when you're working a busy night at the bison, a newbie stirs up a bit of trouble. joel handles it the only way he knows how and you thank him the only way you know how.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is in his mid 50s), i don't describe the reader all that much, consumption of alcohol, drunk old men who harass reader, joel fucks them up, mentions of blood, glass breaking (?), voyeurism, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names

author's note: this fic is dedicated to the birthday girl @ilovepedro !!! happy birthday sweet nini, I love you so much! thank you for helping me edit this, but more importantly, thank you for being a wonderful friend. you make the world a better place. love you always <3

after the amazing love I got on "Who We Are", I decided to add to the universe. let me know if y'all want more! xoxo, gracie

“Didn’t know they made jeans that low cut!”

You were used to stupid comments made towards you by drunk men. But now that Joel has made it known, you are his, a lot of the men in Jackson kept their advances to themselves. The gentleman at the end of the bar must not know that your big ole’ scary boyfriend was positioned in a booth with Tommy and your father across the room. His eyes had been locked on you for most of the night, and every time he and the guys needed more drinks, he’d be the one to grab more.

You turn to the drunk man, who had to be your father’s age. He’s practically drooling at the sight of your ass in your favorite jeans. The summer air was not a good combination to a normally humid bar, so you had been wearing less and less clothes behind the bar. You were sporting the jeans and a tighter tank top than usual, mainly because you knew Joel would be around and you loved driving him wild when the shirt rode up on you.

“You’re gonna catch flies if you don’t close your mouth,” You joke, pouring whiskey for another patron, “Don’t think you’d like the way that would taste.”

The man slams down his glass which causes a couple people to look down at him. You don’t even glance in his direction, knowing if he’s mad, he can take it up with every man in the Tipsy Bison.

“I don’t take too kindly to sarcastic little sluts.”

Your heart stops. You calmly place the whiskey bottle down beside the shot glass you were pouring into and glance towards the red faced prick. You hear the conversations subside around the room while you lock eyes with the guy who’s bold enough to talk shit to you.

You know Joel’s already standing up from his spot at his booth, but you move quicker. You position yourself in front of him, leaning over the bar, your eyes raking down the pathetic boy in front of you.

“Pardon?”

He swallows, realizing how quiet his surroundings got. “I s-said I don’t take kindly to sarcasm.”

You click your tongue, a newfound confidence surging through your body, “I don’t think that’s all you said. Somethin’ about me being a slut?”

“Listen, girl-”

His boots are loud against the hardwood as he approaches you and the man. He stands scarily close to the barstool where the man sits. You don’t break eye contact though, wanting to handle this situation yourself.

“It’s ma’am, to you,” You cut him off, “I think it’s best if you leave.”

“I haven’t finished my drin-”

Joel reaches around the guy and grabs the whiskey glass from in front of him and slams it on the floor. The guy immediately starts to tremble, shaking like a little leaf. You crack a smile before whispering one final thing to him.

“Think you’re finished, buddy,” You flick your eyes up at Joel, who’s fury is written all over his face, “Mind walkin’ him out, baby?”

Joel grabs onto the guys shoulder with a bruising grip, “Would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”

He rips the guy from the stool, not even making sure the guy finds his footing. You ignore the shuffle outside and return to your pouring. You feel like your heart may beat out of your chest, but you’re relieved it was handled before Joel got even more handsy with him. You grab the shot glass and hand it to the fellow that was sat by the drunken fool.

“You got Miller wrapped around your finger,” The guy, who’s name you think is Aaron, says. He was a regular and frequently stopped Joel to talk about morning patrols. You smirk before snatching a rag off your shoulder.

“Yeah, he’s so wrapped around my finger that he’s gonna clean up all that broken glass.” You joke, wiping down the condensation ring the glasses left on the wooden table top.

You hear some footsteps approaching and when you look up it’s Tommy. He’s shaking his head, a grin playing on his lips.

“Where’s the broom? Joel seems busy putting that guy in his place.”

You furrow your brows as you reach for the broom, “What do you mean?”

“I just sent your Dad out there because it sounded like some rustlin’,” Tommy explains, grabbing the stick from you to begin sweeping up the shards, “I’m sure they are handlin’ it.”

Before you can get nervous, you hear the front door swing open quickly. Your Dad and Joel walk in and you can tell Joel is pissed and a bit rattled. You navigate your way around the bar and glass, reaching their booth as soon as Joel sits down. He’s cradling his right hand in his left, hissing in discomfort.

“What did you do?” You say, reaching out for his hands. There’s two gashes that litter his knuckles, only bleeding slightly. You shake your head when he pulls away from you.

“Nothin’ baby,” he mumbles, “Just taught the guy it’s not nice to talk to ladies like he did. He walked off with a bloody nose and busted lip when he started talkin’ shit back.”

You roll your eyes, catching your Dad’s glare.

“Did you break it up?” You press, wanting more of an explanation.

He shakes his head, “Nope. Joel can handle himself. I did tell the guy when he was walking away that if he talked about my daughter like that again, he’d wouldn’t be able to walk away cause he would have a bullet between his eyes.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms under your chest. “I swear to God…”

Tommy approaches the table, his task of cleaning glass finished. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, “You okay?”

“I’d be better if the men in my life weren’t insane,” You joke, nudging Joel’s arm as he inspects his knuckles.

Tommy laughs and sits back down across from your Dad and Joel. While he makes jokes with your Dad, Joel is silent and stirred. You can tell he’s bothered by something more than handling some asshole who called you a name. You decide against pestering him more, allowing him to settle back into conversation with Tommy and your Dad.

You give him a quick peck on the cheek and return to slinging drinks.

“Thanks for staying while I lock up,” You say to Joel as pushing in the last barstool, “And thanks for earlier.”

He is propped up on one of the middle pillars, his shoulder resting on the wood while his arms and legs are crossed. He was still being quiet, not giving into conversation. You approach him, your eyes trained on his arms. He was wearing a t-shirt for the first time all summer, which made you feel some type of way. His arms were tanned beautifully and toned. His biceps were perfectly outlined by the thin fabric of the gray t-shirt.

“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart.”

You glance up at him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Tell me what’s got you all bothered.”

“It’s nothin’,” He uncrosses his arms and reaches out for you. You know it’s not nothing, so you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him forward. He looks a bit surprised.

“It’s somethin’, so you better tell me what happened.”

He huffs, fanning your face with his breath, “That asshole said some shit about us and it set me off.”

You squeeze him a bit, “What did he say?”

You can tell he does not want to repeat it, but you were not going to let it go.

“How I’m an old man with a young girl. How I’m old enough to be your dad.”

You feel sick to your stomach at the idea he had to hear some asshole say that. You look down between you, shifting your weight onto your other foot. You started to feel clammy, unsure of a good response that would reassure Joel.

“He’s just some asshole. What does he know?” You manage to sputter.

Joel’s shoulder’s sag, “He’s not wrong, though, baby girl. I’m an old man with a younger girl.”

You push away from him, scanning him up and down. You are pissed that he’s even bringing this up again, after all this time.

“I’m a grown ass woman, Joel. A grown ass woman with a grown ass man. Just because there’s time in between us doesn’t mean we aren’t old enough to make decisions for ourselves.”

His lip curls, “I know baby, I am just saying that sometimes we get odd looks cause of the age difference. I really don’t care anymore… Just caught me off guard, is all.”

You fold your arms, “You put him in his place, right? He’s not gonna come around here sayin’ shit again?”

“He’d be stupid to come near you again. Think I got my point across.”

You feel like you owe him something. You had a couple ways you could repay him, ensuring that he never thinks about those stupid comments again.

You use your arms to press up your bra a bit, your cleavage more highlighted with the gesture. Joel’s eyes trail down, the scoop neck giving away your suggestive movement. You step closer again, wanting to be in his space.

“My man…” You trail, your eyes falling to his agape mouth, “Makin’ sure everyone knows I’m his.”

He nods slowly before his hand creeps around your waist, “What are you tryin’ to do, girl?”

“Nothin’,” you click your tongue. “Just thinkin’ of how I could repay you for handlin’ that for me. You hurt yourself defending my honor. I owe you.”

“Don’t think of it that way. You don’t owe me anything,” His fingers start to creep down to the curve of your ass. “But, I would love to see what you had in mind.”

“Oh, you would,” You hum, your arms unfolding to wrap around his neck. “Let’s start by walking back to your house.”

Instead of responding, he dips his head and peppers kisses down your neck, taking his time letting his fingers wander around the skin on your lower back and hips. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every press of his lips.

“Fuck,” You sigh as you try to bring him closer to you, but he’s not letting up on your neck. He’s suckling spots near your collarbone, groaning as you react to his every move. You knew at this point, this whole situation was in his hands and not yours.

He lifts his head slowly, letting his bottom lip drag across your skin, “How ‘bout this… How ‘bout I take you right here over this bar? Maybe that asshole is nearby and he can hear how well I give it to ya.”

His proposition sends you into a spiral. You and Joel have had plenty of sex in different places, but the bar? And he wants others to hear? Usually he’s telling you that your moans are for his ears only, and while he wants you to be loud for him, you’re usually too timid to actually vocalize your pleasure.

You place your hands on his expansive chest, “You want to fuck me here?”

He beams down at your question before he whispers, “I want to fuck you everywhere. Here, your bed, my couch, the shower. Hell, I’ll take you at this bar while people watch.”

“Jesus, Joel,” You huff, almost dizzy from the statement.

He brings his hand up to tilt your head back so you look at him. When your eyes meet, he brings the hand up around your neck and to the nape, right where your spine starts.

“God, I need you, sweet girl.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can speak, Joel brings you in for a passionate and eager kiss. He’s feverish, his hands now wandering down to your ass. He starts to walk you backwards towards the now abandoned bar top. You knock into a couple chairs, but his arms keep you from tripping. His hands are propped on your ass, navigating you to the edge of the bar top. When your back is pressed against it, he starts to shove his thumbs under your waist band. He pulls away from your lips to push down your jeans, letting them pool on the floor.

“Spread your legs,” he grumbles, “I want to taste you.”

You do as you’re told, shaking your jeans off your ankles and spreading your legs. Joel falls to his knees like a man starved. You note his devilish smile when you do as you’re told.

“I thought I was repaying you,” You choke out as his hands roam over your flesh. He chuckles darkly before pressing a kiss to your right inner thigh.

“Lettin’ me get between these legs with my tongue is repaying me,” He clicks as pulls at your panties. He slides them to the side, getting a great look at how wet you are already. Your knees feel like they may give out any second just from the anticipation, so when his mouth finds your entrance, you rest your elbows on the freshly wiped down bar.

Joel exploring you in this way was nothing new, but every time he went down on you, it was thrilling. He was simply so fuckin’ good at it. You never had a man take his time eating you out, desperately wanting you to cum straight on his tongue.

The vibrations from his groaning sends shockwaves down your legs, causing them to shake. Joel’s hands are the only thing keeping you stable because even your elbows are slipping from the bar top. The suckling noises coming from him are obscene, especially because you’re standing over the bar at your work. You cannot help but try to balance yourself so you can grind yourself down onto his eager tongue. Before you can really get started doing that, he pulls away, his wet lips glistening under the overhead lights.

He sticks his pointer, middle, and ring finger into his mouth, slathering them in his own saliva. You watch him carefully as he brings them up to your slit, adding to the slick that’s already there.

“I want you to cum all over my fingers before I bend you over this bar,” He practically moans. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

You can barely speak as his fingers slowly slip in and out of you, “Y-yes.”

“Yes what?” He adds another finger, curling them as he pumps in and out. Your head is spinning, watching his other hand spread over your lower stomach to hold you against the bar. You know what he wants, but you can hardly get the word ‘yes’ out, let alone the name he loves you calling him. You try to breathe in and center yourself, but the fire in your tummy burns bright.

“Y-yes, Sir. Please m-make me cum.”

He latches his lips around your clit as he speeds the strokes of his three digits. You grab onto his dark curls to hold him there to ensure that he doesn’t stop putting all the pressure right there. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train and you cannot help but scream out in pleasure.

He grabs your hips, not caring about your recovery. His dick is rock hard in his blue jeans and it makes you giggle in satisfaction. Joel has fucked you in so many different ways, but you do not remember a time he fucked you over counter.

Your upper body is laying flat against the wooden bar, your hands gripping onto the other side to steady yourself. You hear his zipper go down and then his hands are back on you. Your panties are stretched to hell already, so he practically tears the fabric off your lower body without any resistance. You chuckle at how vehement he is. He spreads your ass cheeks as he slips his cock between your closed thighs.

“Gonna need you to spread some more for me, sweet girl,” He mutters, smacking one of your cheeks lightly, “God, you’re so perfect.”

Your cheeks burn, “Yes, Sir.”

You do as you’re told, spreading your legs for him. When you do that, his dick prods at your clit, before easing into your entrance. You and Joel fuck raw, so when he opens you up, you feel every vein and ridge against your walls. He’s thick and it always takes you a minute to adjust to the feeling.

“So fuckin’ tight.”

He retracts back and inches forward again, letting you take in every inch of him. You grab onto the edge of the bar harder, your grip growing tighter with the action. He rests his grip on your hips, using them as leverage as he sets a steady pace. The moment his pace picks up, it’s like the motion pushes all the air from your lungs and you huff out louder. It only encourages him, but instead of keeping you in that position, he grabs onto your shoulders and lifts you up. You are lifted up to his chest, flush with his clothed upper body. He reaches around your arms and grabs onto your breasts through your thin v-neck.

“J-Joel,” you nudge him with your free hands, “Let me take it o-off.”

He slows his thrusts and lets you pull your shirt over your head. Instead of unhooking your bra, Joel takes the liberty to do it himself. The straps drop off your shoulders and you peel the padding off your chest. His hands instantly cradle your breasts, kneading them as he jolts forward to continue fucking you. His thumb and pointer pinch and tug at your pert nipples.

“Mmm,” He hums, “Only I can fuck you this good, huh?”

You whimper at his actions, “Only you, Joel.”

“That’s right.”

With that, he slips himself out of you, causing you to whine at the empty feeling. He moves you around like a rag doll, turning you around to face him.

Joel’s eyes are dilated and his hands are moving quickly to lift you off the ground and press your lower back into the bar. You place your hands on his shoulders, knowing exactly what position he wants you in.

He picks you up so seamlessly. It’s like when he’s horny or angry, he’s super strong and practically indestructible. He will probably complain how his back hurts later.

Your knees fold over his forearms, perfectly spread open for his taking.

You are so wet that he slips right into you. He uses the bar a bit for leverage as he fucks up into you, the angle completely sending you into a spiral. His eyes are perfectly trained on your chest, watching your tits jiggle as he drills into you.

“Most perfect thing I ever did see,” He remarks between strokes. Your nails are digging into his shoulder, right above a scar he got a couple years ago when he was out on patrol with your dad. You remember it was the first time you saw Joel shirtless. He was sitting next to your Dad in the infirmary, getting stitched up from getting caught on a sharp tree limb. You remember thinking how tan and beautiful he was back then.

Now you’re gripping onto his shoulders years later, his dick ramming into you and hitting you in all the right places.

Life is so mysterious and wonderful.

He bites his lip, putting all his focus into making you cum before he does himself. He’s a giver and for that, you’re extremely grateful. No man has ever put in as much effort. Before Joel, you did not know you could cum more than once in a single session. A couple months ago, he could not help his insatiable taste for you and made you cum 6 times.

His thrusts begin to falter when he feels you clenching around him, the fiery thrill building in your stomach. Your legs feel like jello, but as soon as the orgasm hits you, they stiffen in his grip.

“F-fuck Joel,” You whimper, stuttering at how good your body feels as your come down unravels. This orgasm is way more powerful, making you practically vibrate in Joel’s arms.

He fucks you through the feeling, his finish quickly approaching. When he’s finally finding his own release, he slips out of you before he can cum inside you. You two had an agreement that he could only cum inside you if you explicitly say he can. Since you didn't even think about it, you watch as his seed spills all over your pelvic bone.

When you two catch your breaths, he gently places you down on the ground. He steadies your wobbly legs by holding onto your naked waist.

You realize you are smiling like an idiot, completely blissed out on how good Joel made you feel. You find your footing, picking up your pants nearby. You don’t even bother with the material that used to be your underwear.

You hear Joel behind you fixing himself up, zipping his dick back into his jeans. You pull on your pants, leaving them unbuttoned. You grab the material on the ground and ball them up. You prance over to Joel, his eyes raking you up and down.

“You can keep this,” You joke, pulling at one of his front pockets. You tuck the panties into his pants, smiling widely.

“‘M just gonna add them to the collection,” He replies, gripping onto the point of your chin.

When he tilts your eyes up to meet his, your heart flutters at the action. He’s so beautiful with his fine lines and wildly untamed peppered curls. His eyebrows are furrowed as he contemplates your expression.

You finally say it. Those three words that you had been meaning to say for months. The words that you had never said to another man ever. There was a distinct moment about 2 months ago, after you had dinner with him and Ellie, where you almost said it while helping him with the dishes. It was that steadying of your heart, a moment you felt most at peace with someone. He made you comfortable. He made you feel safe.

“I love you, Joel.”

He drops your chin, his eyes soften at the statement. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Your anxiety starts to creep up your throat. Maybe you should not have said that. Fuck.

“I-I…”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” He says in almost a whisper before he takes your right hand, rubbing the top of it with his thumb. “‘M sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”

Your body relaxes, reassured by his answer. You did not have any doubts about your feelings for Joel, but your mind could not help but over analyze every little thing he ever said to you, forcing you to assume he may not feel the same way.

He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a long kiss onto your knuckles.

“Let’s get you home, sweet girl. I gotta get up for patrol tomorrow.”

#joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel last of us smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #gracieheartspedro

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haoboutyou · 2 months

Text

for your convenience | kim mingyu

suggestive, fluff | 1281 words | alcohol mention, making out

mingyu’s got an unconventional solution to both your problems

“I still don’t understand how you’re still single, Gyu. My back is hurting from all the girls shooting lasers at me!” Yuju threw her head back in a laugh, bumping her shoulders into you playfully as she shouted over the loud music.

The man in question groaned in exasperation. “Not you too, Yuju. You’re starting to sound like my mom.”

“Oh my god, really?! I miss Auntie Kim!” Yuju squealed in joy.

“I’m not kidding; she’s even set up blind dates for me!” Mingyu ran a hand over his face, whining.

“Oh please. As soon as they find out about his golden retriever-ass personality, they’ll lose interest and make a run for it.”

Next to her, Eunwoo smirked. He downed the drink in his hand in one go, wincing at the burn as he hooked an arm around Mingyu’s neck.

“You’re one to talk, Mr Dark-and-Mysterious.” Your cheeks are flushed bright red, evidence of the alcohol in your veins. You did a once-over of Eunwoo in his leather jacket, scoffing. “Remember when you cried because you stepped on a cicida?”

“One: I did not cry, my hair got into my eyes! And two: it was crunchy!”

All you wanted to do tonight was get drunk, make out strangers and party hard with your friends. As soon as you entered Cherries, your little group had made a beeline for your usual table. Two cranberry vodkas into the night and you’ve found yourself twirling around your best friends on the dance floor, steps only a little wobbly as you bounced between Yuju, Eunwoo and Mingyu.

Actually, it was just you and Mingyu. Eunwoo had already retreated to the bar, and Yuju got lost on the crowded dance floor, probably grinding on the nearest hottie around her. Not that you minded one bit– you were the closest to Mingyu, anyway, so being alone with him wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

Mingyu’s got a firm grip on your waist the whole time, ensuring your drunken self didn’t trip over your own feet. You were both mingling around, dancing along to the DJ and having the time of your life.

That was, until you spotted an unwelcomingly familiar figure by the bar, staring straight at you. The sudden chill that followed sobered you up in record time, halting you in your dance.

“Fuck, he’s here too?”

Mingyu looked up to see where you were looking. “Is that Jaehyun? I thought you guys broke up months ago”

“Apparently, he didn't get the memo,” you muttered.

You bit your lip, a nervous habit Mingyu noticed you formed a few years back. He couldn’t help but reach out, thumb caressing your lower lip to stop you from biting. He successfully managed to catch your attention; instead, you turned to look back at him.

“Y/n,” he gazed into your eyes, then towards the direction where your ex stood. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do. Why did you a-”

Mingyu kissed you.

He kissed you and now your brain is short-circuiting again, but for a completely different reason.

Kim Mingyu, possibly the most eligible bachelor in Cherries, just kissed you.

Correction: he’s still kissing you.

His hands gripped on both sides of your face, firm but gentle. His thumb softly caressed the apples of your cheeks as he angled himself to deepen the kiss. Somehow, his other hand found its way to the nape of your neck; tilting your head upwards and burying his fingers into your locks.

You let out a gasp as he ran his tongue along your lips. It happened too suddenly; your hands were left to find purchase on his jacket, gripping for dear life. You, however, found yourself drowning in his scent; his warm and woody scent engulfing you whole. Kissing him back with equal fervour was a no-brainer– he made you lose yourself in him, with him.

He’s really good at it too, you realised, until he reluctantly broke the kiss. Cocoa-colour eyes stared back at you intently as Mingyu leaned his forehead against yours. The ferocity of the kiss left you both panting, a bright rosy flush gracing both your cheeks.

The thumping beats and flashing lights of Cherries came rushing back into your senses. All around you, bodies continued to sway in rhythm, laughter and chatter melding into a rush of excitement as strangers burst your private bubble with Mingyu.

“Do you think he saw that?” Even between pants, Mingyu managed to look arrogantly charming, smirking proudly to himself when he realised he’d managed to render you speechless.

You suddenly felt shy, eyes flitting anywhere else but back at him. You took a deep breath, before using what little strength you had left to push him away.

“Uh, well… I think so, yeah. Thanks, I guess.”

From the corner of your eye, you spotted your ex slinking back onto the dance floor after witnessing your bold display of affection.

You sighed in relief, slumping onto Mingyu’s tall frame. He chuckled at how comically you do it, an arm wrapping around your waist to support you against him.

“No, really. Thank you. I think he’s been following me because he thought he still had a chance.” you shudder as you recall the terrifying past month you just had– a stalker ex following everywhere you went.

Mingyu peppered soft kisses on your neck, making sure to look over your shoulder into the crowd behind you. For good measure, you reasoned to yourself. You balled up your fists on his lapels, anchoring yourself to him. “I might have a solution to both our problems, y/n.” He’s got a finger twirling a piece of your hair now. “Go out with me. I’ll make him, and all your other problems gone.”

“Oh yeah?” Now it’s your turn to scoff. “Like what?”

“Rumour has it you’re looking for a new place?” Mingyu leaned forward, speaking into your ear. His breath tickled, eliciting a shiver that ran down your spine. The club’s music seemed to muffle his deep voice even more, straining to pick it up amid the constant noise.

He nuzzled deeper into your neck. “C’mon, Y/n-ie. We already get along great with each other. Most people already assume we’re dating anyway.” He took in a deep breath. “Help me stop my parents from sending me on those stupid blind dates. Won’t it be a win-win situation?”

“You want us to fake date?”

“I want us to real date.”

You bit your lip back again. Your voice dropped down to a whisper. “That’s not funny, Gyu. Be serious.”

His smile softens. For a moment, it reminded you of the goofy kid you first befriended in high school.

“Is falling in love with me that bad? I wouldn’t mind loving you, personally.”

You stared back at him hard. It’s hot and humid in Cherries, but Kim Mingyu pulls off the sweaty sexy look way too effortlessly. Brief flashbacks of your short-lived high school crush on your best friend reemerged in your head. Besides… He did help you chase off your ex tonight. Knowing how persistent your ex is though, maybe keeping Mingyu around wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Y/n-ie, baby.” You were aware that the both of you were only slightly drunk; sober enough to understand the consequences of your actions, but tipsy enough to act on your desires. Mingyu seemed to pout harder. “Date me, please? I’d rather be with you than anyone else.”

You pretend to ponder a little bit more before finally making a decision. “Fine.” You shook his warm hand in yours, ignoring how your heart fluttered at how his large hand almost engulfed yours.

“You’ve got a deal, boyfriend.”

divider credit

#mingyu fluff #seventeen fluff #kim mingyu #svt fluff #mingyu #seventeen #svt #kim mingyu fluff #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #˙✧˖° aiyu writes ༘ ⋆｡˚

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ma1dita · 30 days

Text

now that we're older

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.5k

summary: (established relationship) The one where he asks if you can stay the night even if all of cabin 11 makes fun of him. Luke is tired of the routine. He just needs his girl. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: its really something about me always posting at 4am.... listened to three songs on a loop while writing and they were all called ‘older’. 5sos-> gracie abrams-> lizzy mcalpine—this works for the trajectory of trouble & luke if you give it a listen; anyways you guys deserve the fluff. PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS HAPPY (ignore the...tinge of angst) BUT THIS IS HAPPY RIGHT? RIGHT? scream at me in the comments & enjoy <3

(posted 3/26/24, semi-edited)

—

Luke lets you love him in the nighttime.

It’s not to say that you don’t love him every second of the day and then some, but he’s much softer at night, weathered down and stripped of the many roles he carries. Maybe it’s the weight from the responsibility of being an all-star cabin counselor or the bone-deep ache of being camp’s best swordsman, perhaps even the ailment of being Hermes’ favorite forgotten son—but he endures until the night where he can lay it all down and be nothing but yours.

And you let him.

The mask usually starts to fall apart during dinner when he comes to sit at your table— besides the extra space, Luke likes intentionally knocking his knees against yours, the hand not holding his fork squeezing the inside of your thigh. He’s more open and receptive to your doting by the time the sun sets, fiddling with the hem of your camp shirt on the walks to the bonfire, letting you hang off his arm as you sidestep each other’s feet, hip to hip in hushed giggles. Whether it be chatty campers running through attempts at kisses, Chiron and Mr. D accidentally interrupting your loving glances, or occasional interference from the gods above, there’s only so many ways to be together in the in-between.

Tonight he’s yawning as he places his head on yours from behind, the both of you watching all your campers file out towards the amphitheater. A gentle smile graces your face and he’s warm all over, arms caging around your chest as you lightly sway against the summer breeze.

“You okay, angelface?”

Humming in response, he lowers his cheek to yours and whispers a proposition.

“Wanna skip the bonfire? Like how we used to…”

Turning to face him, your nose bumps against the scar on his cheek, and he feels the teeth of your smile on his skin as you mumble, “That was before cabin 7 needed an understudy for special requests, babe.”

“You could still sing for me. I’ll even clap if you want,” he muses before warbling out a few off-key notes to your favorite song until you’re a mess of giggles under him, fingers reaching up to cover his lips.

“That’s terrible,” you say between fits of laughter, until your eyes meet Percy and Grover’s wandering ones, “Hey! You two ready for your quest tomorrow?” Luke’s hold on you falters into an afterthought, fingers playing with your belt loops as the boys walk to the center of the clearing to meet you two.

He thinks about his little sister going on a quest to prove herself to her mother, even if it’s not her own cross to bear. He thinks about the satyr risking his life to protect another demigod who follows in his footsteps, and finally his dark eyes land on the sandy-haired boy destined to get caught in the crossfire. Luke’s feet feel heavy as if they’re cemented to the ground, and when you step away to greet the boys, he stays where he is. You misinterpret it for his fatigue, which is only part of what’s weighing on his mind.

“Luke? Go on ahead, I’ll cover for you. Get some rest.” But he can’t sleep without you; the times he’s tried are met with a touch of darkness only you can will away. He wants to hold on to you for as long as he can— Luke’s always been more vulnerable in the nighttime, with or without you.

Later he finds himself staring at the ceiling of his cabin, thrashing in the twin bed against the back wall as he rests his eyes and tries to get comfortable. There are reminders of you wherever he looks, gauzy white curtains strung up around his bed like swirling clouds, pictures of the both of you pinned to the worn walls of Hermes’ refuge for the unclaimed, and though he’s always known his heritage—the way he can pick out your voice through the sound of all the others that file in reminds him who his heart belongs to. Luke shuts his eyes until he feels your lips on his forehead, balmy from your berry chapstick with a hint of your smile. He murmurs your name sleepily, but your hands tickle his torso as you lift the hem of his shirt up.

“Woah there, keep it PG. There are children here!” Travis says mockingly, and the sound of giggles and shuffling sheets fills the room as everyone gets ready for bed. There’s a resounding thud that follows and that makes him open his eyes.

“Mind out of the gutter, Stoll! You know your brother overheats at night,” you mutter, and his hands are already ghosting your hip in silent confirmation. Tearing your lavender gaze from Travis who’s spitting out feathers from across the way, you look down at him and mumble, “Sleepy, angelface? They’ll do cabin checks soon and then it’s lights out.”

“Don’t wanna sleep without you. I can wait,” he slurs, saying your name slowly like he’s writing it out. Luke looks at you blearily when he sits up, rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes as he pulls his shirt off from the nape of his neck. When the orange fibers lift from his vision, he sees you in sleepwear (all stolen from his closet, just the way he likes it) and your face shiny with skincare.

“Was gonna get you ready for bed, babe. Got Lee to cover for me tonight and Beck and Katie are on morning shift. Wanna go to mine?”

He knows he should. The both of you never play hooky, not since taking up your counselor positions 3 years ago. Luke doesn’t remember the last time either of you were in bed before midnight and up before 6 the next morning. Never on purpose at least—the surprise jolts him awake a little as he cocks his head at you curiously.

“Got off the hook, trouble?”

The question makes you bite your lip, “You’re acting surprised. Something told me you needed it.” He flops back down on the worn mattress, far too soft with age that his back tweaks a little when he moves over for you and pats the space you’ll take up. It’s his though—even if it doesn’t have his name on it, and for once he just wants to sleep in here with his girl like everything is right in the world (and ignore that he’s about to tear it all up). He thinks he might actually miss this cabin, the sound of his scuffling siblings, the way things quickly disappear and reappear at the change of hands in this community of outcasts, but most of all, he’s going to miss you and how you can settle them down with a single hush.

“Can we stay here tonight? Too comfy. Never get to admire the little setup you made for me here since we’re in 12 so often.”

“M’not going anywhere, my love,” you whisper as you push back the curtains, climbing into his bed to cuddle against him, but he shifts so that his head is on your chest. Luke’s hugging you like he’s a weighted blanket, and he strings a garland of kisses along your collarbone leading up to the space over your heart. Running your hands through his hair, you sing to him quietly until lights out, not even noticing the change while you’re looking at each other eye to eye. No one laughs at your lullaby, the sound of your voice tucking the rest of the cabin to sleep.

Almost losing consciousness again, his cheek shakes with the giggle that rises from your chest as you whisper, “Didn’t know you put our camp prom photo up on your wall. We look like we hate each other.”

“You were so mad because I kept stepping on the bottom of your dress. Had to get your attention somehow,” he chuckles, before tightening his hold on you, “I knew I liked you already by then, too. Wasted too much time trying to get Chiron in a prom dress with the boys that I didn’t get the chance to ask you to dance.”

“Ended up on a bead though. Is that what that memory tells you, angelface?”

“You’re my favorite memory, trouble,” he sighs, muscles relaxing at the feeling of your fingertips tracing stars into the planes of his back. Then hearts. A squiggle of something you tell him is obviously a centaur, which makes his brows furrow, before he kisses your chin when you spell out your name. Slowly, like you want him to remember it. He does.

“I’m still here, silly—pretty sure to be a memory, time has to take me away first. Not letting that happen. Me and you forever if I can help it,” you say breathily, voice tinged with sleep and so much love for him that feels like it chokes you, but that might just be the angle of your neck as you try to look down at him again. Dopamine lines your system at his words, and you let out a strained sigh—lovesick and heady with the feeling.

“I know but you’re in all my favorite ones too. When I think of you, everything’s better. Like I didn’t eternally fuck up my fate before I even turned 20,” he jokes, and like a lot of them, they fall flat. You hope that by wrapping your legs around him Luke will know how much you want to crawl into his skin and hold his heart to protect it. That with you, he won’t ever have to be alone. Words are never enough, after all. Even if you have nothing you need to prove, it won’t stop you from trying to show him.

“Still a few weeks off, so don’t try your luck. There are worse fates than falling in love with you, Luke Castellan.”

He turns from the wall at the sound of that, wanting to disagree, but you kiss him before he can protest.

“I’m the lucky one. Sometimes I think loving you was the only thing I did right,” he murmurs, before drifting off. You’re the last thing he looks at before he goes to sleep, the way he likes it—like a longstanding memory he gets to keep before he’s vulnerable again in his dreamstate. He’s the strongest when you’re with him, and his brain goes quiet. No one dares to break him when he’s with you like this.

Not a dream, nor a titan.

You can't imagine sleeping another night without this crick in your neck with his name on it, the shape of him pressed into your body. With only the moon as your witness, you whisper words of devotion, sneak featherlight kisses wherever you can reach, and hope that they get to your love, wherever his mind is right now.

“I love you, I love you, I love you…”

—

You let him love you in the mornings.

Even unknowingly, it seems. On a normal day, your alarm would ring and you’d sleepily pat Luke (his face, chest, whatever part of him you could reach with your eyes closed) so he could shut it off. He’d let you sleep in a couple extra minutes (somewhere between 5-10) before pulling you from unconsciousness with a hug.

This morning, with no alarms ringing in his ears Luke finds that he wakes up a little before you anyway. Down to his circadian rhythm, you’ve affected him, and he takes it with an upwards quirk of his lip as he squints at the sunlight through the sheer curtains that brush against your arms. He watches you delicately, even with the sounds of a lively morning filling the cabin—everyone up and ready for the day while you two are wrapped in your little bubble. It’s a stupid thought that crosses his mind, but a coherent one nonetheless; jealousy fills his chest at the sight of sunlight kissing every inch of your skin that he can only try to reach. He runs his hands from where they’re tucked underneath your waistband to the expanse of your back, and over your shoulders until you’re humming under your breath, midway out of a dream.

Luke takes an extra moment to admire the way you latch onto him and he finds it almost frustrating how everyone from the gods above to the demigods at Camp Half-Blood down to the powers that damn him to Tartarus know you’re his biggest weakness. It’s almost unfair how you’re his strength too— the sheath that reminds him not to cut, the control behind his unbridled rage that heats up the back of his neck like a brand but instead of feeling fire, he feels sunlight.

You search for him in every sunrise, light refracting through your irises until a smile settles on your cheeks like you want to say, “Yes, I’m here with you. ”

“Good morning, pretty girl.”

The both of you shifted during the night, almost as if in a dance of limbs and dreams, and somehow you’re nestled against his side and using his bicep as a pillow. It flexes as Luke raises his arm to brush the hair away from your face, when you kiss his scar and mumble, “Did we miss breakfast?”

“Almost over, but we can just grab something from the kitchens. Surprised everyone left us alone, actually,” he says thoughtfully, “the kids might’ve already left for their quest.” He likes watching you reorient yourself into the land of the living, before you step into your boots of being head counselor, before you put on the facade of being the perfect demigod—the protector and glue of Camp Half-Blood.

“Mmhm… was gonna offer my lighter to Percy and them last night for protection, but he was wearing your shoes. You gave them to him?”

Luke wipes drool from the side of your lip, watching you kiss his thumb in thanks with no thought as it was as easy as breathing. A half smile splits through the scar on his face as he says, “He’s gonna need them. For luck.” You lift your upper body up and look at him, hair forming a halo around your face and you sniff, “But you loved those shoes. Gift from your dad aside, I know they’re one of your prized possessions.”

He coaxes you back into his arms as he shifts up and leans against the wall. Prying eyes would think you’re hugging, sitting heart to heart on the small mattress.

“Annie didn’t take your lighter?”

He knows you’re rolling your eyes against his shoulder, feeling your fingers clutch at his curls to pull him away to look at you. You look at him knowingly and say, “Stop trying to change the subject. Anyways, Annie said if we help them anymore she’ll think we don’t trust them enough to come back alive.”

“I mean it when I say you’re all I care about. Shoes…None of it matters.”

“What I care about is how you used to love flying around in those things. Even if you pissed me off a lot with them too,” you say, and the both of you laugh. They were a consolation from his dad after his quest, probably the closest thing to an apology (or even a “hello, glad you’re alive!”) he’d ever gotten from Hermes. Though the scar on his cheek was more than enough of a reminder of that—he didn’t touch the shoes until a few months after, when you taught him how to drive. Luke propositioned you promising to take you out on a spin once, and you thought he meant the car…

“You loved them more than I did,” he grins, and you recoil and slap his chest.

“You flung me onto the roof of the dining pavilion, Luke.”

“It was an accident! Plus it did make cabin checks go faster…Once I got the hang of them,” he snorts, deciding to pull you to stand. Batting away the curtain, he’s sliding into his slippers and Luke helps you step onto his feet and you groan into his chest, “What are you doing? M’gonna break your toes, Lu—”

“Shhh…I’m the strongest guy you know. Can handle anything for ya.”

He backs the both of you up to the center of the cabin, spinning you in slow circles to an imaginary beat. One hand around your waist and the other interlaced with yours as your smile feels like sun beaming through a window as you ask, “How did I ever get so lucky to fall in love with you, Luke Castellan?”

You’ll never tell him, but that’s the only thing you’ll be ever grateful to Hermes for.

He shakes his head in astonishment as he whispers, “I love you, you know that?” It hurts his head if he thinks too hard—how does a love so intoxicating manifest as something so gentle? How can he be powered by your love but still fueled by hate? How can he be both damned and saved by you? Luke wonders if his thoughts even break the surface of how busy the mind of a daughter of Dionysus is—to know insanity in love, and still be able to welcome it with open arms.

“Beats prom, huh? Am I a good dance partner?”

You tilt your head, tongue in cheek as you gaze at your boy like he’s said something stupid, and though it’s been a year and change, you hope the fluttery feeling Luke gives you will never go away. With him, you never have to pretend—never needing to mince your words or soften the blow. You’ve never felt more yourself than how you feel hand in hand with him.

“We’ve always been good partners, me and you.”

He sways you in the momentary quiet of cabin 11 as you step away and hold the bottom of your (his) shirt out like the frills of a skirt, and Luke raises your arm overhead and then you’re spinning, spinning, spinning…

The front door swivels open, and Chris peeks his head in.

“Hey lovebirds, sorry to interrupt but Sword and Shield is starting soon, and Clarisse still has your names on the roster…”

You both sigh.

“You signed up for offense?”

“And you signed up for defense, so don’t look at me like that, trouble…”

Instantly the two of you harden your stances, parrying at each other’s torsos with hands as your swords until you try to make a run for it and drag Chris behind you to use him as a human shield.

“Hey! Oof—”

Moving as quick as a bullet, Luke accidentally knocks the wind out of his brother who’s now hunched over as you laugh at him like a madwoman.

“You two are going to have weirdly violent children one day,” Chris huffs, before stepping back towards the door, “See ya in 30!”

Cheeks reddening at his brother’s comment, Luke crosses his arms and takes a good look at you, bathing in the light of the open doorway and looking like the rest of his life.

“Well, back to work. Bit too good to be true, huh babe?”

“For now,” he says thoughtfully, “Summer will be over soon though. Gonna get quieter around here for sure…”

You’re already stepping off the front porch walking backwards as you grin, throwing your arms up in the air as you make your way across the path to your cabin to get ready for the day. You’d hate to leave camp—it's as true as your love for performing, caring for others, and most especially, him. He knows it because he knows you, and unlike most things, that’s never going to change.

Not if he can help it.

“Summer doesn’t last forever. But we’ll still have the fall, the winter, and whatever’s next…me and you.”

You’re yelling to him over the railing of your porch and he nods his head at you, turning away before you speak again, “Maybe one day when we’re older!”

“What was that baby?”

Looking at Luke like you already have it all planned out in your head, you say softer, “Kids. If that’s what’s in the cards for us. Though I do like practicing…”

Instantly he cracks up but nods, because there’s no future he can conceive without you being in it. There’s a serious turn in his response and it makes your heart beat out of your chest.

“Anything you want. You know I don’t leave anything up to fate. Not glory, not you.”

Everything you touch turns into gold, and he hopes somehow he would too. Two sides of the same coin, striving for a good ending, one worth remembering—one to last forever.

You get to love each other in the in-between, when time can’t get in the way. The clock is always ticking though, rattling against his brain as a reminder.

Luke just wants to make sure there’ll come a day where there’ll be no more interruptions.

—

“When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. Oh, when you used to sing it to sleep.” Caitlyn Siehl

½ luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01@poppysrin@ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #trouble!verse #made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan fluff

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