#i think it should be alright if someone still enjoys some things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sparklovespink · 2 months

Text

PARK JONGSEONG! --- as your next door neighbor

🥽—warnings 18+ hard thought, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation, teasing, masturbation, listening in on masturbation, jay's kinda nasty, pussy whipped!jay, horny simp!jay

📼—author's note this is my first work with even minor plot in it on here. hope you guys enjoy this bc ive been feenin for jay all week long. so sorry that this is in lapslock! it was originally a drabble but it got long and i was too lazy to change it. 🎀—w/c 2,000~

⠀⠀ ⠀myslut masterlist

JAY had moved into the apartment next to yours almost a half a year ago. although he's really only seen you is passing, he thinks you're a good neighbor for the most part—you don't bother him, only greeting him with simply waves when you see him in the hall, and you're not a party person either. in fact he thinks you could be the perfect neighbor, the only problem being your little habit. actually, the things he hears at night from your room might be a major problem, but not in a bad way.

occasionally, every now and then he comes home from work in the later hours of the night, to hear you moaning. it could be past midnight but you're still going. you're so fucking loud about it too, sounds of muffled whimpers slipping through the walls. at this point you probably haven't missed a single night, it's like you've got to want him to know. his only secret show.

and his imagination runs wild. whether you're fucking yourself on a dildo or fingering yourself, he has no idea. sometimes, when he can hear you, he wonders if he could get you to shut up with his fingers in your mouth. wonders if you get off to the idea of him and probably everyone else on your fucking floor being able to hear you. wonders if your own fingers really are any good and if you'd want his to help out that pretty cunt. because jay just knows that you're an absolute whore, can hear it in every squeal.

he's so obsessed with you and he can't help it. even now he's started to jerk off to your sounds too, small moans fueling all of the nasty thoughts that run through your head. fist wrapped around his fat, veiny cock as he strokes himself in tandem with your moans. it's not even enough, he needs to fuck something. and something, is you.

so, he sets a plan into action. seducing you. he knocks on your door the around ten the night after, thinking to at least just meet you under the guise that he's made too much dinner and has leftovers to share.

and there you are, swinging open the door. his already hard cock stirs harder when he sees you, standing behind the door. you're flustered and disheveled, clad in just shorts and a tee. your shorts are hiked up on your ass and he can see your swollen nipples peaking through your shirt. he must've 'interrupted' you, because you look like you slipped them on in a hurry after hearing him knock. fucking jackpot.

"can i help you– oh, hi?" you say, obviously not expecting him, nor noticing the way jay is running his eyes over your figure. you lean one arm against the door frame, making eye contact right as he glances up from your tits to talk to you. "you're my neighbor, jay, right?"

of course you remember him, duh. there's no way you fuck yourself that loudly every single night if you don't want someone to know. at this point the only thing that's confusing to him is why his name's never left your mouth.

"yeah, i'm next door alright." he nods. he shuffles so that the tray of leftovers hides his boner. he's got what he wanted already, now thinking if he should just leave the tray with you and be on his way, maybe come back and ask for it tomorrow. but before he can even say anything, you beckon him invite him in with a wave of your hand.

"actually...it'd be great if you could bring it in and have some with me," you say, "unless you already ate? sorry, it smells so good but i don't think i could finish it myself."

heaven has got to be listening in on this conversation because jay's never been this lucky. even when he won a hundred bucks betting on jake—who's an absolute wildcard in monopoly, jay knows better than to put money on him again—he swears he was not this lucky.

not even fifteen minutes later and he's sitting at your dinner table. he seats himself while you're grabbing two plates and put everything together. you have no idea how hard he is right now, how badly he wants to go home and jerk off to the memory of you. but he's holding in it, pressing his palm against his erection with the hope that it'll be enough to soothe him for now. it obviously isn't.

he somehow makes it through dinner, eventually making small talk with you. you get along rather well with him, shooting bratty quips to match his quick comments. you don't even mind when his knee bumps into yours, moving until it's touching your thigh.

he trades numbers with you and soon seeing each other is routine. he brings over a plate of food for you to try at least once every week, usually over a movie or a board game. you even introduce him to a couple of friends, who he glares horribly at whenever he think they're to close to you. although you never seem to notice, he knows that one guy wants you just as bad as he does, can see it in the way he looks at you.

which makes sense, as you are also currently single, jay soon finds out. he had already thought so, but a small part of him was also worried that there could be a someone. someone who you let hold onto your bare hips and fuck your pussy when jay could be doing that. when jay should be doing that.

and when he gets back to his apartment after one particularly touchy movie night, you really let him know that. he doesn't think you've ever sounded this loud, this needy. he's on the other side of the wall, groaning as he teases his angry, red tip to the sounds you're making. right now, he could be taking care of you, fucking you hard into your mattress. he dreams about it every fucking night. he pulls out his phone, opening your contact and typing with one hand as he squeezes his cock.

damn ur loud lol

he tosses his phone to the side, watches as it lands across his mattress, screen facing up. he's seriously about to cum, core tightening just as his head falls back. the sounds of your moans have quieted, but he hasn't noticed yet, strokes speeding up.

yh i know

come ovr

jay's hand falters as he registers the texts, neck straining to reread because there's no fucking way you just sent that. he double checks. triple checks.

fuck.

he's crawled off his bed in less than three seconds, pulling his sweats up and throwing on a shirt before heading out to hall. when he gets there, he doesn't even have to open the door. you're already flinging it open, coming face to face with him in the door frame.

jay's flustered, pupils big and cheeks painted a soft red. he looks at you, looks down at your hands, wrapped around the door knob, and back at you. he swears every time he sees you, you're in less clothing. panties and a tee. are you trying to kill him? "fuck, that wasn't to the wrong person or shi–"

you shut him up by pulling him by the strings of his sweats, dragging him into your apartment. closing the door, you spin both of you around so that you're pressed up against the door. "no mistake." you hum, looking into his eyes.

"fucking hell, really?" he asks, eyes wide and glossy as he stares back. he's so close, could press his mouth to the corner of your lips if he wanted to be romantic. could stick his tongue in his mouth and mix his spit with yours if he wanted to be nasty.

“so i was right. you were listening to me fuck myself." you coo, giving him pouty lips as you press your leg against his cock, hard underneath his sweats.

there's a choked up noise that spills out of his throat at your words. he can't admit to that, fuck. even if it's already obvious. he watches your tongue run over you bottom lip, coating it with slick spit. "think you're any better than my toys?"

jay's on you in a second, dropping down to his knees. he presses his face against your panties, rubbing his nose in between your inner thighs. you're already soaking yourself and he can taste it, dragging his tongue along the the crotch of the fabric. "so much fucking better."

his eyes roll back so far when you slide a hand into his hair, tugging him closer to you. he's impossibly hard, dick leaking precum inside of his sweats when he hears the way you murmur a little "jay, please."

and jay wants nothing more than to please you and taste the pussy that's haunted him for weeks. he pulls your panties down, lifting your legs up one by one to take them off. chucking them to a random, pressing his lips right above your cunt before he looks up at you.

this is the man who's wanted you for a damn long time now. who spent nearly every night edging himself to the noises you let slip into his apartment through the walls. who jerked himself off in your bathroom when you got to close on movie nights. who fucking dreamt about you riding his cock till he can't cum anymore.

he fucks his tongue into your cunt, loving the way your thighs suffocate him. his mouth vibrates every time he moans into your cunt.

all the nights he spent in his bed, poor cock between his hand were nothing compared to this. the way you squeal when his nose bumps into your clit, making you rut your hips into face.

"fuck, right there," you cry out, feeling jay's hand snake up your leg to grab your ass cheek. he palms your ass, pushes you further onto his mouth. he's so fucking good at it, eats you out like you're the last meal he's had in days.

there's a dark look in his glossy eyes when he looks up at you, speech muffled as he speaks into your core. "this pussy's fucking perfect." he mutters, diving right back into you.

you let him work, lapping up your arousal, his eyes never looking away from your face even once. "look at me baby." he says, tone stern. one glance down and you can't fucking help the your fist tightens in his hair at the sight of him; dragging his tongue along your inner thigh. delighted in the way you squirm, he sucks a hickey against a patch of skin that's gone wet from the messy way he's been eating you out. "mmm...just like that."

you pout at the loss when his mouth separates from your cunt, begging him to start up again. "jay please, i'm so fucking close."

"just knew you were damn needy." he murmur. it earns a whimper from you, and that's enough to get jay to attach himself back to your cunt. you don't even notice when his free hand drops to fist his his swollen cock, pumping his length the same way he does every other night.

when you cum, it's overwhelming, messy, and wet. you're fucking crying, and even then jay's not pulling off, letting you choke him with your thighs tight around his head. his own cock aches, pent up from earlier. it only takes one more sound from you before he cums, hard, hand all over his hand.

he comes off your cunt with slowly, like he could have buried his face between your legs for hours if he really wanted to. his face is mess sticky mess of cum, and you can feel the soft blow of his breath against your inner thigh.

hiccuping, you watch the way he cleans himself decently enough with the back of his hand, licking your juices off of his skin. "so much better than just hearing you baby."

#enhypen smut #enha smut #jay smut #jongseong smut #jay x reader #jongseong x reader #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #park jongseong smut #park jongseong x reader #🥽—✩ enhypen

2K notes · View notes

iceunhie · 8 months

Text

voicelines about you: as their lover !

featuring: imbibitor lunae, jing yuan, gepard. (+ jingliu and kafka)

notes: headcanons! some might be ooc HELP. i couldn't resist writing for hsr man… also jingliu and kafka sneak bc mmm i love morally questionable women 🤩. gn!reader. reader is not trailblazer. some fluff, some angst (?) kinda. reblogs are very much appreciated!

Imbibitor Lunae (Danheng IL)

About [Name]: They're one of the few people who's never condemned me for Danfeng's sins, nor ever tried to get me to own up to them. Their presence is very comforting to me. My lover? *coughs* Y-yes, they are.

About [Name]: Selfies Aside from March, [Name] always seems to ask me to take photos with their camera. Hm? No, I don't really mind. If it makes them feel happy, then that's enough reason for me to agree.

About [Name]: Photo Albums [Name] made an Express photo album with March yesterday. Yeah, pictures of our adventures and memories, according to them. It's in the Data Bank, so just ask me if you want to take a look at it.

Gepard Landau

About [Name]: [Name] is the most amazing individual I've met. Their determination and their will to pursue their goals to the fullest… I'm proud to call them my lover. Oh, ah… Was that too forward?

About [Name]: Lending a Hand Oftentimes, Serval asks [Name] to help her carry some things for her workshop. Although the times I get to personally help out are rare due to my duties, I still make it a point to support them by asking the Silvermane Guards to keep an eye out for them and help carry my sister's things for them if it's too heavy. Of course. They're always my top priority.

About Serval: Nagging Every time Serval stops by my post, it usually means [Name]'s run into some difficulties, which I try to help them out in. While her telling me about my lover's state is greatly appreciated, she always nags and teases me being a fool for them and… *sigh* No, it's alright, really. I'm thankful that my sister cares about [Name] and goes out of her way to talk to them for me. Still, I do hope her nagging would decrease next time.

Jing Yuan

About [Name]: Hm? [Name]? Yes, they're indeed my lover. Hehe, now that you've brought them up, I should go look for them. I'm afraid I've grown so used to the feeling of laying my head on their lap that no other pillow can suffice. Ah, what a predicament…

About [Name]: Spending Time Together While I do enjoy dozing off, [Name] makes a point to let me rest at a more appropriate place, instead of at the Seat of The Divine Foresight, buried under a mountain of paperwork. Oftentimes, I do as they say, but when I'm not and just craving their presence… Heh, now that's another matter entirely.

(BONUS! - Yanqing's Voiceline) About [Name]: Oh, [Name]? They always give me some extra allowance for buying swords, buying me sweets and food I like… Of course I won't say no to that! Sometimes, them being with me when I'm being scolded by the General for my expenses helps a lot. Probably because they're the only one the General can't say no to.

Jingliu

About [Name]: ….Do you really think you have the right to know about them? This is a warning. Try to ask again and perhaps you'll be faced with the end of my blade as my answer.

About [Name]: Soothed The whispers of the marastruck, succumbing to the Abundance… They are the only one able to calm the storm of my thoughts. For that, I am grateful for their patience and their kindness.

(BONUS 2! - Jing Yuan's Voiceline) About Name: While Master's current state is one of irreparable damage, at the very least… She has someone to hold onto while she grapples with the curse of mara. Even if I don't quite believe she's the Jingliu I knew from before, I know that her feelings for [Name] are sincere. I just hope she doesn't end up hurting them in the process.

Kafka

About [Name]: Aha, now thats a question I didn't expect to hear from you. My lover? Yes, [Name] is that to me. I very much enjoy their love and affection, you know. Even if it isn't on the script, I'd still mention them. Quite romantic of me, no?

About [Name]: Trophy They always, always chide me about me ruining my velvet coats when we finish up a script. What's wrong with a little blood? I keep most of them as trophies. There's one I'm especially fond of, too. They think it's rather embarassing that I keep the coat from the time they got injured on the job. Although the stains have long since turnt black, there's still a faint scent of iron in it. Hm? What do I mean by that? Heh, let's just say I don't take any harm coming to [Name] lightly. While they call it a reminder of their lack of caution, I'd rather call it a little show of my affection~

About [Name]: Destiny's Course Elio refused to tell me about what my future with them would be, saying that the path in that choice is quite difficult to discern, and I think it's for the best. I suppose if [Name] decided to leave the Stellaron Hunters, hm, would locking them up till they can't leave me anymore suffice….? Haha, just kidding. I wouldn't let them leave in the first place.

#dan heng #hsr x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #dan heng x reader #gepard landau #gepard x you #hsr gepard #gepard x reader #gepard x gender neutral reader #hsr kafka #kafka honkai star rail #kafka x reader #jingliu x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan hsr #jing yuan x reader #imbibitor lunae #mhie's spirals

3K notes · View notes

chrisevansonly · 2 months

Text

Some Extra Goodies

charles leclerc x female reader

summary: you are the master at sneaking things into the grocery kart, only this time…someone is watching

warnings: none very fluffy and domestic charles

a/n: thank you all for the cute little ideas i’m gonna work through them, i hope you enjoy these little blurbs!!

Grocery shopping was something you and Charles loved to do together, ever since you moved in together, and even when you both still lived in your respective homes; it was a tradition for you two almost.

Another thing you were good at was sneaking extras into the cart, whether it was your favourite candies or a little package of double chocolate chip cookies, luckily enough for you Charles never seemed to notice.

Until today.

“Chérie, what kind of apples do you want this week?”

You hummed for a second, having just sneakily added a package of cookies to the cart, your eyes then moving up to look at your fiancé who narrowed his stare onto you.

“Oh um let’s just get the honey crisp again! Those were really good last time”

Charles didn’t say anything before grabbing a few apples and placing them into your little fabric fruit bag, the bag you’d started to force him to use to avoid all the plastic use.

“Okay, we just need milk and then we are good to go”

Nodding you hooked your arm through Charles’s and walked towards the dairy section, not before subtly grabbing a pack of gummy bears and trying to hide them under the bushel of banana’s that had just been laid down minutes earlier.

It wasn’t until after you’d gotten the milk and some yogurt that Charles stopped by the cash register, a slight smirk on his face.

“So are we forgetting anything?” he asked softly

“Nope, everything is checked off on the list!”

“Really?”

You raised a brow looking at him and shrugged, showing him the crumpled up grocery list

“Yeah, see I checked it all off…is there something we’re forgetting?”

“Well I just noticed something funny…”

Charles kept his eyes on you, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he pulled out the cookies, gummy bears and the little box of truffles you’d slipped into the cart.

“It’s funny because I didn’t see these on the list…”

“What! Oh well how did they get in there! Must have flown off the shelf!”

Charles couldn’t hold his laugh back at your fake shock, it was something he loved about you, how you’d get so animated and pretend as if you didn’t do something: you both knew you most definitely did.

“So I didn’t see you sneakily place these in the cart over our trip here?”

“Charles! I think you’re seeing things, should we go see a doctor?”

Biting back a smile you tried hard not to crack nor laugh, but as Charles pulled you in for a hug and pressed a kiss to your forehead, you sighed, finally breaking.

“Alright…you caught me…i just wanted some sweets…”

“Well you didn’t have to sneak them mon amour..”

You shrugged

“It’s more fun that way! Plus you never notice!”

At the look on thé Monégasque’s face your mouth dropped open

“You’ve known?!”

“Every year since we started dating…”

Now it was your time to laugh, all of this time you’d thought he’d never noticed your additions to the weekly groceries, when in reality he’d known everytime for the past 5 years.

“Let’s just say don’t become a spy…you’re not very good at hiding things”

“Hey!”

Pressing one last kiss to your forehead the two of you made your way to the cash to check out and pack all of your things up to go home. Even if you weren’t a good spy, and Charles did know when you snuck extras in, he’d never say anything, in fact he loved that you did it.

Because half the time, he’d want the same sweets as you, he’d just never admit it….not now at least.

1K notes · View notes

strang3lov3 · 10 months

Text

For Science

Soft!Joel Miller x Fem Reader

Summary: Joel’s heart breaks at your misery when you’re on your period, so he does what he can to alleviate your pain.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, blowjobs, fingering, awkward Joel and Reader, period cramps, period sex, unprotected PIV. sweet sweet joel. Mutual pining

W/C: 4k

A/N: For all the menstruating Joel girlies, this one’s for you. And me too, because this shit fucking sucks. Admittedly this is very self indulgent. This isn't my favorite fic, but I hope you guys like it anyway. I feel like it's devoid of a lot of typical period fic tropes so I am unsure if y'all will enjoy. Have a great weekend!

btw, send me an ask or comment if you aren't tagged and would like to be! mwah kisses love you all <3

masterlist

as always, please leave me a comment or reblog if you liked the story! i am desperately in need of validation

Knock knock knock. “You okay in there? Haven’t seen you at all today, honey,” Joel asks as your door swings open slightly. His brows are knit together and his soft eyes are big and worrisome.

Joel hates seeing you like this. You’re huddled with your knees curled into your chest on your bed, trying to will away the pain. Your hands are clutching your stomach, you’re quietly moaning in agony.

“I think I’m getting sick,” you rasp out, your voice weak. It started with a dull ache in the pit of your stomach that didn’t seem to leave. Then came the nausea.

“Sick, hm? Can I come in?” Joel asks you. You nod yes, and the door opens wider. His footsteps are soft towards the bed as he sits next to you. “Let me check you for a fever?”

You nod again, not having much energy to use your voice. Joel places a palm first on your forehead, then your cheek. Not satisfied with the results, he repeats the action with the back of his hand. It’s such an unexpectedly sweet and caring gesture, your eyes prick with tears.

“Not terribly warm,” he mumbles. And then it catches his eye: that rusty bloodstain on your bed, heavy and concentrated to a few square inches. He leans over to check your backside, where he finds the stain mirrored on your pants. “Think you started your period, honey.” he whispers.

The cramps and nausea feel all too familiar now.

You hadn’t had a period since the beginning of your trek across the country with Joel and Ellie. Not that it was a super regular occurrence before that, but you often gave your food to the younger girl. Being so malnourished, your period disappeared. It was a welcome exit, your period was always exceptionally painful and miserable for you.

“Oh,” you move your hand to your ass and press your fingers into where you think the bloodstain should be. And yup, there it is. “Shit.” you grumble, looking at the matching bloodstain on your blanket. The last thing you wanted to do today was laundry.

Your cheeks heat up slightly. Hiking halfway across the country with someone, modesty is usually thrown out the window. You and Joel have seen each other in all sorts of intimate states, too intimate for the type of relationship you share. But still, you can’t help but be slightly embarrassed.

He must see your blush. “Hey, it’s alright,” Joel assures you softly. “I was gonna go over to Tommy and Maria’s anyway to do some laundry. Why don’t you let me wash your blanket and those clothes, hmm?”

“You really don’t have to, Joel,”

He ignores your gentle protesting. “Nonsense. I’m gonna give ya some privacy for a second, leave what you want washed outside your door. I’ll be back in a few hours,”

You smile gently, scolding him in your mind. He doesn’t need to be doing all of this for you. He smiles back, warm and shy, before exiting your room and shutting the door behind him.

You strip, changing into some sweats and fresh panties. In the bathroom are some reusable pads made from old towels that Maria gifted you when you first arrived in Jackson with Joel and Ellie. She gave the last menstrual cup to Ellie, who’s at school today. You put on a pad, toss your soiled clothing outside the door, and curl up with a book on your bed.

Joel lets himself inside Tommy and Maria’s home. Yes, there’s a community laundromat. But those often require socializing, which Joel is not much a fan of. Tommy and Maria generously offered you and Joel their to use washer and dryer instead.

He places the basket of laundry on top of the dryer and begins filling the washer with your clothes and blankets, none of his own, and sprinkles in some detergent.

Joel lied. He did his laundry yesterday. But he knew how ill you were feeling, and Joel, ever the gentleman, decided to take it upon himself to take care of this for you. The grumpy asshole did have a heart after all.

“Back so soon?” A voice interrupts. Joel turns to look, it’s Maria standing in the kitchen with her baby on her hip. “Didn’t you do laundry yesterday?”

“I did, yeah,” Joel responds.

Maria notices your soiled panties sitting on top of the blanket she recognizes as yours in the washer. “She got her period, I’m guessing?”

Joel nods. “Yeah, figured I’d take care of the laundry for her,” “Well aren’t you kind,” Maria says, impressed. Not many guys would take care of washing a woman’s period-bloodied clothing. “I thought she might be starting soon. Noticed yesterday at the dining hall she was complaining of cramps and such. She also seemed a little moodier than usual.”

Joel shuts the lid and turns on the washer. “I thought so too,” he agrees. “She was a little irritable.”

Maria puts on a pot of coffee and offers Joel a cup, to which he accepts. For a while they talk about Tommy, then their new baby. When the washer finishes, Joel moves the clothes and blanket to the dryer.

“I can drop those off for you if you’d like,” Maria offers. “You may wanna get back and make sure your girl’s doing okay.”

“That’d be great, I was actually thinkin’ the same thing,” Joel thanks Maria. “You don’t have any pain meds, do you? Poor thing looks terrible. She’s all curled up into herself, barely speakin’ to me.”

“No, I don’t, unfortunately,”

Joel sighs. “How do you deal with it, then? Cramps and all that,”

“Well, a warm bath always helps. So does a heating pad if she has that,” Maria says.

Joel nods his head. “Is there anything else? Tea? Somethin’, anything. I mean, this girl is absolutely miserable,”

“Well,” Maria starts, unsure if she’s ready to reach this level of personal with her brother-in-law. “Orgasms.”

Joel sputters into his mug as he chokes on the coffee in his mouth. “Pardon?”

“Yeah, orgasms. Have sex with her. It’s what I recommend to all the women here. It does help the cramps subside, at least for a bit,” Maria says. Joel’s face drops, his eyes go wide. “What, are you afraid of blood or something? You’re washing her bloody clothes…”

“No, no. It’s uh, it’s not that. We aren’t…we’ve not…”

Maria stops Joel, understanding. “My apologies. I thought you guys were together like that. Well, God gave women fingers for a reason,” she says, very matter of factly.

Joel blushes, images of you and your wandering fingers flooding his imagination. “Got it,” is all he says. No fucking way in hell he’s going to tell you to masturbate to alleviate your cramps. That can most definitely be a conversation between you and Maria another time, when Joel is far away from you both.

He awkwardly says goodbye then, making his way back to your shared home. Maria sends him home with some potato soup, instructing him to heat it up for you. It’s good comfort food, she says.

In your bedroom, you look to be in about the same position as you were before. Whimpering in pain, rocking your body back and forth in the fetal position. Anything to shake the hurt away.

“Hey darlin’, Maria gave me some potato soup to heat up for you. Can I make you some?” Joel’s back in your doorway, his tall frame leaning across the rickety old wood.

“No, thank you,” you whisper. “Not really hungry.” “Figures. That’s alright. Anything else I can do?”

No, you tell him. Not unless he’s willing to be your human body pillow. This entire time you’ve been bleeding, you’ve been aching for comforting touches. Strong arms wrapped around your torso, warm hands pressing on your lower tummy. The other hand holding your own, thumb tracing back and forth on your skin. Soft kisses on your forehead, your hair. You just want to be loved, gently. The way you so deserve.

Joel turns to leave then, just about shutting the door behind him.

Maybe…

“Joel?” you call out.

“What’s up, honey?”

“I was just wondering if you’d maybe hold my hand. Just for a second,”

Joel smiles sadly through the crack of the door. “Of course,” he says tenderly, like it shouldn’t have even been a question on your mind. Of course he’ll hold your hand. He meets you at the bed, sitting awkwardly next to you. He offers you his hand, which you take in both of yours. It’s dry and calloused, but so warm and comforting. “Squeeze me as hard as you need, alright? I can handle it.” Joel adjusts slightly so he’s laying next to you, his other hand stroking your hair. He smiles to himself, small and genuine.

A wave of ache overtakes your body, beginning in your abdomen and spreading up your chest and down your thighs. Your breasts are heavy and swollen and aching angrily. You groan in agony. “Fuck,” you whimper.

“What hurts? Where?”

“Everywhere,” you cry. Your hands leave his, and they find their way to his torso. You grasp his sides in your fists and squeeze, but he doesn’t complain. It doesn’t hurt, and even if it did, you’re hurting worse. In truth, he’s savoring the warmth your bodies create together. He loves being able to comfort you like this.

Joel wraps his arms around your back, dragging his fingertips up and down your spine. “You’re breakin’ my heart, honey,” he whispers. “Let me help you. What can I do?” he asks, hot breath tickling your ear.

“I don’t think you want to,” you murmur.

“Try me,”

You sigh, sitting up on his chest slightly. “Can you…massage me? My chest?”

Joel’s breath hitches and he shuffles awkwardly. “I suppose,” he starts.

“I’m sorry. I just need your strong hands, I tried doing it myself but–”

“No, yeah. Of course,” Joel interrupts. He’s at a loss for words, more filthy images of you flooding his mind. Just like before, at Maria’s. “It’s what friends are for, right?” He cringes inwardly at the word he uses. Friends.

“You’re too good to me,” you mumble.

“Nonsense, honey,” he hushes you. “Sit up, turn around. I’ve got you.”

You trust Joel completely. He can be rough around the edges, but you know how soft and nurturing he is on the inside. Joel is meant for this, taking care of the people he loves.

He spreads his legs and you lean back into the soft warmth of his torso, holding onto his denim clad thighs. He’s awkward to start, still unsure of how to do this, exactly. You take his hands and drag them up, up your tummy, stopping for a second to savor the heat from his palms radiating through to your abdomen, then continue pushing them up your body. You stop just before your breasts, his thumbs lightly tracing the soft flesh of your tits.

“You ready?” he asks, his voice steady and calm but slightly nervous. He wonders if you can hear the way his voice is wavering slightly.

“Mhm,” you mumble.

And then he gets to work. Gently, timidly, he runs his hands over the soft flesh of your breasts, then your nipples. You groan at the contact on your sensitive buds. He squeezes gently, then increases pressure experimentally. He can feel how swollen you are as he explores every inch of your chest.

“Doin’ alright?” he asks, fingers and thumbs digging deep into your breasts. He massages you intently and with such tenderness, his gentle caretaking instincts taking over.

It hurts so fucking good. The ache is amplified yet dissipates with each motion of his palms. “Yeah, harder. Don’t stop,” you plead desperately.

Joel swallows thickly and increases pressure again. “Like this?”

“Just like that, Joel. So good,”

God, how sinful you sound. Whimpering and moaning for him, begging for more. Shit, not now. Not fucking now, he thinks as his cock begins to harden under you. “Fucking moron,” he whispers.

“What?”

Joel freezes. “Shit. I uh, wasn’t callin’ you a moron. Sorry,” he apologizes gruffly. “It’s me. I’m the moron.”

“Why are you a moron?”

“I’m gettin’ a bit hard. I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He feels heat rise up his neck and to his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to.”

“My tits are in your hands, Joel, I get it. I don’t mind,” you assure him. You feel his cock half hard, pressing into your lower back and you shift a little. You both notice how he grows harder at your adjustment.

Joel chuckles awkwardly, trying to break the tension. “I’m only a man, hon. Can’t help it,”

“You’re okay, Joel. I promise,” You chuckle with him, sighing and resting your head back on his chest again as he starts massaging you once more. The stubble on his jaw tickles your face, his chest rises and falls with every second. You share a moment in the silence, made slightly awkward by Joel’s arousal. You wince as another strong cramp overtakes your body, and you curl up into Joel.

“Cramps?”

“Cramps,” you mumble. “I don’t think you can massage those away, though.”

“No, probably not,” he mumbles. “Not with my hands, at least.”

“With what, then?”

Did he really just say that? You really are a fucking moron, Miller.

“At Maria’s today, she told me a way to alleviate cramps,” he starts, speaking slowly, like he’s whispering a secret that’s not his to tell.

“How?”

“Orgasms,” he whispers stiffly. He presses his lips together in a thin line and looks up towards the ceiling.

“Oh,”

“I could give you some privacy if you wanted to try that out,” he mumbles.

“Why would you do that?” you turn to look at Joel, who is bashful and looking down. He looks at you with an eyebrow raised, and you continue, “Didn’t you just say you could make the cramps go away, just not with your hands?”

“W-well, yeah, but,” he stutters.

“I have been so fucking horny. And you’re hard too, so,”

Joel’s eyebrow is still raised, he’s eyeing you suspiciously. “Are you askin’ what I think you’re askin’?”

“You already washed my bloody panties. I’m guessing blood isn’t an issue for you,”

“No, no. ‘Course not. You want me to fuck you?”

“Yeah, you know. For science. For the sake of experimentation,”

Joel smirks mischievously. “Nothin’ wrong with a little experimentin’,” he agrees. You smile at the twang of his Texas accent.

You share another awkward moment, both unsure of how to continue this scientific endeavor. Joel makes the first move this time. “Come here,” he breathes, lifting you into his lap. “Kiss me.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, intertwining your fingers in the grey-brown curls at the base of his neck. His hands are on your waist, holding you steady with your thighs straddling his. He leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss, his lips are slightly chapped but so deliciously soft and warm against yours. He tastes like himself and nothing more, but his taste is addictive nonetheless.

You grind your pelvis into his bulge, whimpering at the contact on your sensitive heat. You’re craving more than his kisses, needing to feel all of him. His weight on your body, his skin on yours. His member deep inside you, massaging that spot that makes your head spin. “More,” you whine.

He hums in amusement against your lips, thrusting his hips into yours. Cheeky motherfucker.

You swat his arm lightly. “Don’t tease, Joel. I need you,”

“I know ya do. Let’s get you warmed up then, hm?” you nod hurriedly, leaning back. Joel pulls you back in for a kiss, his hand snaking under both your sweatpants and panties. “This alright?”

“Yes, fuck,” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. His fingers dip further, gathering your wetness and circling back up to your clit. He traces slow, steady circles into your bud, taking his time with you. He pushes his middle two fingers deep inside you, fingers curling up and hitting that sweet spot. You gasp and whimper into his mouth.

Joel loves taking his time with you. Playing with your body like a musical instrument, eliciting moans and whimpers from deep inside. Watching you dance for him, falling to pieces under his touch.

“So pretty like this,” he praises you.

You kiss him again and hop off his lap, he pulls his hand away from your core, quickly hiding it from your sight. He doesn’t need you feeling any shame or embarrassment of your body doing what it was meant to do. “Get a towel?” you ask him.

“‘Course, honey,” Joel sits up and grabs a towel from the linen closet, then walks back to your room. He shuts and locks the door behind him before laying the towel down on the bed. You stand up to meet him, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling off his shirt. He does the same to you, helping you out of your sweats and shirt. You quickly sit down on the towel and he stands before you, cock rock hard, admiring all of the curves of your figure. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.”

You blush and reach forward to pull him to you. “So are you,” you tell him earnestly. He steps toward you and pushes you back, getting ready to enter you. You put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“Is everything okay?” his dark brown eyes are big and full of worry.

“Of course,” you say. “I’m not ready yet. I wanted to taste you,” you admit.

Joel smirks. “You’re the one bleedin’ and cryin’ in pain, and you wanna taste me?”

You smile back. “For science, right?”

“Sure, sweetheart. For science,” Joel sits next to the towel, you lean over his lap and get ready to take him into your mouth. “Ah ah ah,” he tuts, “Like this.” Sitting next to him on the towel, he instructs you to face him and spread your legs. This way, he says, he can take care of you too.

You lean over, making sure your heat is still accessible to him. Joel leans back onto the pillows and lets you get to work, his fingers tracing up your thigh before meeting your center once more. Your lips part around his member, tracing the soft and warm skin with your tongue. You moan when his fingers enter you again, voice sending vibrations through his cock. “Fuck, honey,” he groans.

You play with each other like that for a while, Joel working you open with his fingers and you taking him further and further down your throat. His cock twitches, engulfed in the wet heat of your mouth.

“Stop, stop,” he begs. “Not gonna last.”

You pull off of him with a pop, and his hands leave your body. You whine at the loss.

“I know,” he soothes. “C’mere.” Once again, you’re in his lap, hovering over his cock. It’s held loosely between his fingers, tip prodding at your entrance. “Ready?” he asks you, his sparkly brown eyes are looking up at you, his eyebrows raised in anticipation.

“I need you,” you whisper desperately. And with that, Joel notches the tip at your entrance, carefully studying your features to make sure it’s not too much, not too fast, not painful. You steady yourself on his shoulders, fingernails indenting his skin. He pulls your hips down slowly, letting you savor every inch of him. He bottoms out with a deep sigh, and you lean forward to rest your forehead on his.

“Wait,” he interrupts. You frown with concern, and he bucks his hips up. You let out a yelp, partially in pleasure, partially in surprise. Joel pulls the towel under you both. “There.”

You giggle. “Good idea,” you whisper. You stare down at him, a slight smile on his lips. You start to roll your hips, letting your clit brush the thick tuft of dark hair at the base of his cock. You whimper at the feeling.

“Feel good, baby?” Joel asks expectedly.

“So good, Joel” you assure him. “You feel so good,”

Joel pulls your body down to his, letting you rest on your knees. He thrusts into you rhythmically, letting you relax against him. “Fuck, you feel nice, honey. Knew you would,”

You moan and cry, kissing and whimpering into his neck. Using your sounds and the way your body reacts to his touch, he fucks you hard, intently, but gently at the same time. It’s delicious.

You rock your hips, bouncing on his cock to match each of his thrusts. He hits that sweet spot in you repeatedly, he can feel your walls squeezing him, hear your moans becoming quicker, more frantic. “God, you’re sensitive,” he says. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, yes,” you whimper. “M’close, need t-to come,”

“You can let go,” he speaks softly, voice low and gravelly. “Come for me, baby,”

You lean back, lifting your hips slightly to give his fingers access to your clit. He takes the hint and begins circling your sensitive bud once more. It doesn’t take long before you’re falling apart on his cock, your cries and moans muffled as you bite into his shoulder.

“That’s it,” he coos, fucking you through it.

You try to take a second to catch your breath, steady yourself, only Joel has something different in mind. He doesn’t stop fucking your pussy, overworked and overstimulated. Within minutes, you’re coming again, your pussy making a beautiful crimson mess on his pelvis and fingertips. Still fucking you, he watches you come like you’re a work of art in a museum. Taking in every detail, every twitch of your face, the way your mouth drops in pleasure, how your tits bounce with each thrust.

“Too much, Joel,” you cry. “S’too much, please.”

“You give me one more, baby. C’mon now, want you to come with me,”

“I can’t,” you pant. “I can-”

“Yes, you can,” he encourages firmly. His voice is sweet but stern, and it is clear your pleasure is not to be negotiated. You will come again. “One more, one more. S’all you gotta do.”

“Fuck, Joel,”

“I know, you’re doin’ so good f’me,”

It’s almost painful, but you focus on the pleasure building once again deep inside you. You rock your hips, grinding your clit on the pads of Joel’s calloused fingertips. Right there, right there…

“You’re makin’ such a pretty mess of this cock, darlin’. Wanna fill you up, baby,”

His sweet talking sends you reeling, you love the way he praises you. “M’close again,”

“Right there with ya, baby,” he soothes. His thrusts are frenzied, cock throbbing inside you. “Now, baby,” he commands. “Fuck, need you to come now.”

Moans and cries spill out of your mouth like liquid sugar, thick and sweet and slow. You come on Joel’s cock for a third time, your body melting into his own. He comes with you, his own grunts and moans mixing with yours to create the most beautiful sounds to fill the room. His voice is deep and desperate, sounding like pure sex as he paints your insides with rope after rope of his seed.

You slink on top of him, focusing on catching your breath. His skin is sticky and sweaty as he holds you in a tight embrace, his heaving chest lifting you up and down. He pulls out of you, a mess of your fluids dripping onto the towel. You curl up next to him, your head on his chest.

“Cramps?” he asks.

You shake your head. “All better,” you pause, then speak. “But hold me some more? Please?”

“‘Course, honey. For science, right?”

You smirk. “For science,”

You lay like that for what feels like hours, Joel stroking your back tenderly. One of his strong arms wrapped around your body, his warm hand pressing into your back. His other hand is holding your own, fingers squeezing you comfortingly, thumb tracing back and forth. He presses soft kisses to your forehead, your lips. He’s loving you gently, sweetly, the way you so deserve.

tags: @swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat @anoverhwhelmingdin @dontatmethebeasts @venus122idkpleaze @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @spideysimpossiblegirl

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller one shot #soft!joel miller #soft!joel miller x reader

3K notes · View notes

crheativity · 3 months

Note

Hello how have u been I was wondering if I can request a slightly part 2 of the reader making the overblot squad cute little plushies so wha if the reader makes the plushies clothing and accessories like for vil’s plushie little fake makeup and same clothing he has sorry if my English is bad I’m still learning

SUMMARY: You decide to make the Overblot Squad’s plushies clothes! How do they react?

WARNINGS: None that I am aware of!

COMMENTS: Oh my GOSH this is such a cute idea!! And no worries Anon, your English is just fine :D I hope you enjoy it!!

Part one - Prefect making the Overblot Squad plushies of their respective Seven member - can be found here. Part three - their reactions when the plushies are stolen - can be found here.

You made his plushie some… clothes? He didn’t even know you could remove her current ones! He would never think to try something so scandalous on his own! Especially not with a plushy of the Queen of Hearts!! Ah, wait- he meant no disrespect! He just meant that he wouldn’t- uh… He’s just gonna stop talking now.

You have to show him how to change his plushy’s clothes – he refuses to figure it out on his own in case someone walks in – but once you show him it’s not like that, he’s more comfortable with it. He doesn’t change things around a lot – maybe whenever you make him a new one. He keeps them all safely in a box under his bed. Occasionally, he’ll take them out just to look at. Seeing them always makes him smile.

You decided to make the powerful, feared and mighty King of Beasts… a hat? And slippers? Hah, you got guts, Prefect. He’s gotta say, he respects it. Alright, he’ll indulge you. He’s slightly surprised at how small yet detailed the accessories are. There’s something slightly endearing about such small clothes… maybe that’s one of the reasons why people like children? Tch. Te can’t relate.

Nonetheless, it’s amusing to him what kind of accessories you think of. He’s also not the type to change up the doll’s outfit a whole lot, but he’ll stash them all around his room. Much like the toy, they all smell of you. It’s starting to annoy the other Beastmen. Ruggie’s strongly considering having an intervention.

Prefect… these are adorable! Are you sure you don’t want to sell these? Ah, r-right. Please forgive him for forgetting they were for-... for his eyes only. Please stop looking at him and let him regain his composure. He absolutely loves them! He hopes you know how much of a friend the doll has become to him. He’s starting to tear up, you’re so kind. Give him a minute.

Azul has designated different clothes for different purposes. Before bed, he puts his doll in her pajamas. When he wakes up, he selects her outfit for the day and changes her into it. He does this almost ritualistically every day. Floyd and Jade have teased him for it, but surprisingly, Azul doesn’t seem to mind.

Oh? You made his Sorcerer of the Sands doll some different outfits? Pft– that’s so cute. He didn’t mean to laugh at you – he’s delighted, really! He just… can’t believe that you’d spend precious free time doing something like that. Hey, come on, he’s not judging you or anything, but free time is precious, right? You should spend it more on doing what you want to do. Still, though, he loves the clothes - and finds your cute little pout adorable.

He definitely keeps them with the doll. Whenever you make him new ones, he’ll pick up the doll and change the outfit. Otherwise, he’ll only change them a couple times every so often. This has given him an idea though. Maybe you’d like a doll too? Then you could match. Although, Ramshackle dorm doesn’t really have a mascot… maybe he could make you a ghost? Or a plushie of Grim?

(Didn’t he say that spending ‘precious free time’ doing something like ‘that’ was wasted? Point it out to him and he’ll get flustered and walk off in a huff. He will return with a plush and an apology for you two days later. He enjoyed making it a lot.)

You made his doll clothes?! He’s trying not to squeal like a teenage girl. He didn’t know that his doll could change clothes!! Oh, prefect, he loves you so much. He’s going to ask you to make so many clothes, you better be prepared for what you’re getting into!

He, like Azul, changes the clothes all the time and will often just sit down for like an hour and change the doll into perfect outfits. As you could probably guess, Vil LOVES using the doll to try out new looks. Whenever he’s designing an outfit or a piece of clothing, he always asks you to make a small version for him to try out on the doll. This helps him to be able to practise styling them and getting an idea of how the finished piece would look.

His favourite kind of outfit to ask for, however, is anything that reminds you of fashion from your homeworld.

You made his marketable plushie some marketable clothes?? Oh my gosh. That’s adorable. It’s so small! Looks like those itty bitty cutey kitty clothes– AH– ahem. you didn’t hear that. He definitely wasn’t just having a total fanboy moment. no siree… do you think you could make him an outfit from his favourite anime? that’d be cool, he guesses.

He’s DEFINITELY gonna make the little guy cosplay his favourite characters. Maybe that’d improve his gacha roles even more? Oh he is 100% down to help too. Any clothes that require metallic details he is WELDING that stuff together. It’s so cute how invested he gets in this. Ortho loves seeing his brother get so passionate about this too!

Malleus is DELIGHTED. He was not aware that his little friend could change outfits! How adorable! He loves you so much! He is this close to buying an actual, fully sized wardrobe just for them! …But Lilia talks him out of it. Actual, fully sized wardrobes take up a surprising amount of room. So, he ends up getting two, miniature wardrobes. Which fills about the same space. Lilia’s not sure his advice really worked.

Malleus will now dress up his dolls for tea parties, picnics, or whatever outings they decide to go on. He is constantly surprised and delighted by whatever you make him, although he’s not very good at suggesting ideas. One of the few ideas he came up with was fashionable about a hundred years ago and was a very complicated piece of clothing. However, when he received the outfit, he took great measure to ensure that no harm would ever come to it.

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

795 notes · View notes

the-offside-rule · 2 months

Text

Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Embarassing

Requested: yes

Prompt: 3) "His smile gives me butterflies"

Warnings: alcohol maybe idk

Y/n, the brilliant Red Bull strategist, reveled in the success of another 1-2 finish for the team. The victory celebration echoed through the night, and with each cheer, Y/n's heart raced. As the party reached its peak, she found herself drowning her nerves in a bit too much alcohol. In the dimly lit corner of the party, Y/n sat alone, contemplating the stars above. Max Verstappen, unaware of her intoxicated state, noticed her isolation and decided to check on her. "Hey, everything alright?" Max inquired, concern etched on his face as he sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her to show his support.

"I'm just here, having a moment. You know, thinking about someone." Max, intrigued yet puzzled, sat beside her. "Someone special, huh?" Y/n nodded, a dreamy expression settling on her face. "You won't believe it. I'm head over heels in love with Max Verstappen! Can you imagine? His smile gives me butterflies, and when he races, it's like my heart is on the track with him." Max, amused, played along. "You think so?" She nodded. "And his determination, Max never gives up. It's inspiring. Also, that Dutch accent is-" She paused lifting her glass to her lips. "It's something else."

Max couldn't hold back his laughter. "You seem to know him quite well." Y/n nodded, blissfully unaware. "Oh, absolutely! I have have come up up his strategy like all the time. I wish I could tell him how much I love him." Max, enjoying the banter, decided to play along. "Well, maybe you should." Max looked at her with admiration. She was seen as somewhat of a recluse at Red Bull. Yes, she was lovely but she was serious about her job and worked so hard to prove she was serious, that Max and many other team members were unaware she was even capable of being able to love someone. "I will! Next time I see him."

"Shouldn't be too hard. You're in a huge nightclub with him." Y/n nodded. "Yeah. Oh, and the way he talks about racing, it's so passionate. I could listen to him talk about it all day." Y/n sighed, blissfully unaware that she was talking to the very person she was gushing about. Max chuckled, enjoying the unexpected revelation. "Well, I'm flattered. Thanks for the compliment."

"Wait, what?" She turned. Max smiled and put his hand out. "Max Verstappen." He said teasingly. Y/n's eyes widened, realization hitting her like a sudden gust of wind. "Wait, what? Oh my- Max, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to- I mean, I didn't know it was you." Max laughed, genuinely appreciating her honesty. "No worries. It's flattering. Let me walk you back to the party." As they stood up, Y/n, suddenly shy, looked down. "I should probably go. I've embarrassed myself enough." Before Max could even say a word, off she went stumbling away. Max followed, but in the crowded venue, he lost sight of her. The party continued, but Max couldn't shake off the amusing encounter and the even more amusing strategist

The next day in the buzzing Red Bull factory, Y/n immersed herself in her work, determined to focus on strategy and leave the embarrassing incident behind. As she studied data and simulations, Max casually strolled through the facility, inspecting the ongoing progress. He eventually found his way to Y/n's desk, where she was engrossed in her tasks. Max leaned against the edge of the desk, smirking, "Hello, darling."

Y/n's eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I, uh, I think I may have said some things at the party." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Max, still amused as he was the night before grinned. "Oh, you mean the Max Verstappen love fest?" Y/n cringed. "Yeah, that. Sorry about that." She hid her head in her hands as Max simply laughed. He interrupted with a playful grin, "No need to apologize. I thought it was cute, actually. If you ever want to show that side of you more often, feel free."

Y/n blinked in surprise, and Max reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. He jotted down his number and slid it across her desk, winking mischievously. "In case you need someone to talk to about your Max Verstappen crush." Flustered but intrigued, Y/n managed a shy smile. "Thanks, Max. I'll... keep that in mind." Max nodded, giving her a knowing look, and continued his stroll through the factory. Y/n couldn't help but replay the interaction in her mind, a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

#f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fic #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x reader

629 notes · View notes

kivino · 5 months

Text

BIG GUY || SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X GN!READER

my masterlist

ao3 link to this fic

Word counter – ~1,8k

Tags/Warnings – Fluff, a bit of miscommunication and jealousy, nothing much.

Summary – Ghost takes a liking to the nickname you give him, but struggles to understand just how much he likes it.

A/n – I’m still struggling with my school projects so wish me luck, I made this instead of making a video for my language class lmao, enjoy! i’ll add the ao3 link a bit later.

upd. link added for ao3 enjoyers!

It didn't miss anybody, the way Ghost seemed more easygoing and light-hearted on certain days, letting recruits get away with a bit more than usual. Coincidentally, it was right after various interactions with you, be it training or sparring together, doing reports, moving some shit around the base, or just hanging out in the common room. Nobody could just figure out what it was about your interactions that lifted Simon’s spirits so high, which was notoriously hard, courtesy of how gloomy or menacing the man usually appeared. But the answer was quite simple, really.

“Thanks, big guy. Always a huge help.” Simon catches your small smile as you pat him on the shoulder and nods, barely containing his joy, he’d hate to make it too obvious. He was wearing a balaclava after all, and the smallest stretch of the fabric on his cheeks and around his mouth could easily give away how joy spread itself in his chest at the affectionate nickname.

Big guy. Big guy. Your big guy.

Nickname reserved only for him, exclusively from you. Of course, Ghost knew he’d be larger than your average soldier, and that regularly got acknowledged by others, but something about you calling him like this made it different. That pleasant warmth inside, which reminded him of the sun, or that stupid fluttering in his stomach, was…unusual to say the least. It made his mood better almost instantly, an interaction he eagerly, but silently looked forward to each day. Something about you calling him a big guy made his head spin, swimming in the endless clouds. Something Ghost hasn't felt in a long time and didn’t think he’d ever experience.

It was easy to let down his guard around you, you stripped him of the metaphorical armor just like this, with an effortless joke and that godforsaken pet name thrown in somewhere in the conversation. And just like that - Ghost’s low laugh rumbled in unison with yours, heart missing a beat when he looked into your eyes that sparkled with something unknown and captivating. It felt…good. New. And so fucking warm, Ghost felt like he was about to suffocate.

You were the newbie, your reputation preceded you but Ghost didn’t pay much attention to all the rumors swirling around on the base, like some suspicious soup in a boiling pot. He had better things to do. Like following you similarly to a lost puppy, maybe staring intently right at you with his huge brown eyes, if he was feeling brave. Or lingering somewhere around, just to make sure you’re adjusting alright. After all, all of you soldiers have to look out for each other, right? Right. Definitely.

It felt good to finally be able to just laugh and play around with someone, who didn’t seem scared shitless by his presence, mask and, well…everything about him, that seemingly drove people away. Not that he didn’t understand the reasoning for that – quite on the contrary. But you were probably just built differently, drawn to the weird, unappealing, and scary. Maybe Ghost should feel lucky that you were like that. And truth be told, he did. He liked it and he liked you.

Ghost could only hope that he lightened up the things for you the way you did for him. To ask and dig deeper would probably be too much, Simon could still feel that caution and tremble at the mere thought of trying to grow closer to you and spend even more time together. Like he’ll put a curse on you the moment he decides to open up a bit more and show you at least some inner workings of his mind on a more intimate level than just some stupid puns, or gossip and discussions about the way you spent your day. Although they were certainly pleasant, with you giving him a subtle, understanding smile from across the table, while steam from your coffee mug made it seem so domestic and wholesome like Ghost was in a dream. So, Ghost kept what little distance he could, despite his wishes, and hoped that you take your time and be patient with him.

That is until he overheard something that startled him, to say the least.

“Well, your jokes are a bit too much for me, big guy.” You say, letting out a clear, loud laugh, as you patted Soap’s chest. Scotsman straightened up almost immediately in front of you, a proud toothy smile beaming on his face. Now Ghost felt like he just got punched in the gut, for some reason. Annoyed and on edge in a split second. But why? He truly couldn’t seem to pin down the reason for the surge of anger and something bitter in his chest, bubbling right under his skin.

It was probably nothing worth his attention. Just something weird with his body, exhaustion from the training, muscle cramps...or whatever it could be. In any case, running headfirst into dissecting his mind for something so small and minuscule? Ridiculous, really. Completely unnecessary. Of course, Simon knew that both you and Johnny weren’t saints, two rascals more like, but he had no obvious reason to feel this bitter stinging inside of him, that slithered and slipped around, followed by tightening of his throat and bobbing of his Adam’s apple. He swallowed loudly, trying to wash down that gross aftertaste on his tongue hours after he saw that interaction. And the fact that he couldn’t get it out of his head was telling enough, that he was, in fact, bothered by something.

So, Simon decided to do what he did best. Bottle it up. But then it just kept sitting in his head, that nasty feeling still eating him from the inside out. It didn’t help that he started seeing you talking with Johnny more often, while Simon unintentionally avoided you, still buried deep in his thoughts and contemplations about what caused him to feel the way he did. Of course, he couldn’t help but eavesdrop. And there you were. Laughing with him. Calling him “big guy”. Again. This only caused Simon to become more cranky and unfriendly, taking his frustrations out on poor privates who’ve never ran so many laps in their entire lives.

The only people Ghost was outright cruel and merciless to were his enemies. He wasn’t the friendliest guy, of course, but everyone noticed when the lieutenant who usually would crack jokes and dumb puns at the expense of others at most suddenly started to get annoyed at smaller mistakes more, using harsher words and overall look like he was down in the dumps. Nobody dared to talk about the subject though, so Ghost was left terrorizing the privates and recruits, having lunches in his office and avoiding areas where he knew you’d be at certain times of the day from your long talks before. Which, of course, didn’t help him to understand what was wrong at all.

So, all Ghost was left with were his own thoughts. He didn’t feel jealous of you interacting with other people before. You were never his, so he had no right for that at all. But there had to be something else that pushed Simon to where he was now, tired, unsatisfied, and craving at least a passing smile and a short “Hey there” from you. So that the two of you could sit down somewhere together, and you’d talk about some irrelevant nonsense, and then you’d open your mouth again and call him “big guy”. It didn’t feel fair that Johnny got to be called that. It was Simon’s nickname. From you. Wait-wait-wait, hold on a second.

The sudden revelation as to why exactly Ghost was feeling that way when he saw you talk with the sergeant hit him like a damn bus. Fuck, that is childish. Weird. God, Simon feels like a damn creep. Getting upset because of a damn nickname, way to fucking go, you oaf. This felt confusing. Irrational. Absolutely fucking stupid. To think that something that simple threw him off so easily. That’s human relationships for you. Now it felt like he needed even more time. Not to make it complicated. Not to hurt you and himself.

Regardless of his wishes, he didn’t have any more time to think when he was soon approached by you, a concerned frown adorning your face, along with a look full of sympathy and understanding. Ghost already dreaded the conversation that hadn’t even begun. And he wasn’t even the one reaching out first. Which makes it even more embarrassing.

“Hey, Simon. I have something I want to talk about with you.” You, bless your heart, probably thought something terrible happened in Simon's life when in reality he was just running away from you and his feelings like a whole wildfire was chasing him. The only correlation he could think of is dumb teenagers, which is…remotely fitting with his recent behavior. “I’ve noticed you’ve been kind of…avoiding me? Did something happen, or am I just overthinking everything?”

“It’s stupid, really. Nothing you should be worrying yourself about.” Ghost blurts out before he can even think. Great, now he can only tell you the whole truth, without the options to back out or lie. But it was truly so unusual for him because Simon never expected to get attached to a nickname and to you.

“Well, let’s hear you out. I won’t judge.” Again, with your perfect reassuring smile and your calming presence. Simon lets out a deep sigh, his throat itching from what is about to ensue. He knew he was going to embarrass himself, but he just couldn’t bring himself to lie. Which would’ve been so much easier, instead of baring his true feelings in front of you.

“Well, your nickname for me…You know what I’m talking about.” Simon’s tone is deep and gruff as he tries to conceal that uncertainty in his voice. You appear to be listening attentively, your eyes trained on him, head slightly tilted to the side, which makes his heart melt. You give him a confident nod at the mention of the nickname, and Ghost continues. “I want you to call only me like that. And I mean, only me” He can see your eyebrow rising, your expression more teasing than questioning. There we go, now you’re going to mock him or laugh at him. Just perfect.

“Sure thing, big guy.” A shudder runs down Simon’s spine from your words, a sweet, saccharine feeling immediately blossoming in his chest. Oh, he had no words to describe how hard he missed it. All his worries lifted immediately. You didn’t find it weird. In fact, from what Ghost could tell by your satisfied expression, it was quite the opposite of the reaction Simon initially expected. Which was extremely relieving. He would hate to lose your intriguing relationship to the miscommunication of his own making. “Could’ve just said that you wanted it reserved just for you.”

Oh, it wasn’t just the nickname that did it to him. But it’s a bit too early to tell you that.

check out my masterlist for more fics or send me a request/comment!

1K notes · View notes

astrophileous · 6 months

Note

hi !!! can i request literally anything with spencer based on "in a world of boys he's a gentleman"? everytime i hear it on tiktok i just think of him and i physically cannot😭😭 thanks a lot <3

ANON YOUR ✨️MIND✨️!!! I go crazy over any edit of spencer with slut! audio omfg and you're absolutely right, the lyrics scream HIM SO MUCH 😭🫶 Thanks for the request lovely ❤️ btw some parts of this are kinda similar to details of my other blurbs but you know what? idc 🥰 I hope you still enjoy it tho <3

Warning(s): fem!reader, minor injury (scrapped knee), reader being stood up, profanities

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

You turned around at the familiar voice. "Spencer? What are you doing here?"

"I'm on the job. Were you inside the club?"

You glanced at the entrance of the establishment behind you. "Yeah, I was. Can you tell me what's going on? Why was everyone evacuated? Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine, angel. Don't worry. We've got things under control." Spencer looked around at the mass of people in your immediate surroundings. "I thought you said you had a date today?"

You shuffled your weight from foot to foot, ducking your head so Spencer couldn't read the embarrassment on your face. "I do. My date, he's—well, he said he saw some of his friends earlier and went to say hi, but then we got evacuated, so..."

Spencer frowned. "He hasn't contacted you yet?"

"No." You looked at your phone again for good measure, hoping that somehow your date had dropped in a text or a missed call in the two minutes since the last time you checked the device, but alas. "Maybe he doesn't have service? The signal on my phone has been terrible as well."

You and Spencer both knew that it was a pathetic excuse, but you were thankful that he chose to brush past it completely.

"Are you cold?" Spencer asked when he saw you shudder. He instantly took off the FBI bomber he was wearing and draped it on your shoulders. "Here. You know you get cold easily. Why didn't you bring a coat?"

Truthfully speaking, you didn't think you would need a coat when you left your place earlier that night. After all, your date was going to drive you from your apartment to the club and back. How were you supposed to know that he was going to stand you up halfway through your date, leaving you alone and freezing in the middle of a sidewalk?

Perhaps the fact that he decided to bring you to a club out of all places for a first date should have been your first red flag all along.

"Better now?" Spencer asked.

"Yes. Thank you, Spencer."

Someone bumped against you from behind, and before you could dive head first onto the curb, Spencer caught your fall mid-air. He led you away from the mob of people littering the club entrance with protective arms enveloping your shoulders.

"What happened to your leg?" Spencer asked when he saw the slight limp in your walk.

"Oh, that? I, um, kinda grazed it against the pavement when I fell."

"You fell?!"

"Well—" you winced when a particular step sent a jolt to your limb, "—believe it or not, people can get real physical when they panic, and a sudden PSA to evacuate the premises is apparently the surest way to do it."

"Let me see." Before you could stop him, Spencer was already kneeling in front of you in the middle of the road. He flipped the sheer material of your skirt so he could inspect the damage. "Shit, angel. You're bleeding. Why didn't you say anything?"

Carefully, Spencer ushered you towards the nearest ambulance, sitting you down at the back before requesting a first aid kit from the paramedic.

"Need help with that?" the paramedic asked.

"No, thank you. I've got her."

The way Spencer said the phrase made your entire insides heat up all at once. It didn't help that for the following minutes, you had to endure all the gentle ministrations Spencer was doing to treat your scraped knee. You were both glad and mournful when Spencer finished dressing the wound, your skin tingling with the aftermath of his delicate touches.

Spencer took a seat right next to you. "Still no word from your date?"

"No." You sighed. "I don't even wanna think about him right now. Should've trusted my instinct and not go on this stupid date in the first place."

"Why did you go anyway?"

"I didn't feel right canceling just like that. Deirdre went through great trouble setting it up for me."

Deirdre, bless her heart, was your best friend and closest confidant. She was also the person who arranged this blind date for you because she was, quote-unquote, tired of seeing you pining over a certain FBI agent with an IQ of 187.

"For a certified genius, he's sure as hell real dumb if he hasn't figured out how you feel about him by now," Deirdre had said once upon a time.

So, like the good friend that she was, Deirdre set this blind date in hopes that you would finally stop moping around and start moving on instead.

"Your date is a friend of Deirdre's?" Spencer questioned.

"No, no, no. I think he's a coworker of her sister's husband or something? Anyway, thought I'd at least show up and have fun, y'know? I didn't expect that I would be the one getting stood up."

Spencer clenched his jaw. "Well, you can tell Deirdre that her sister's husband's coworker is a brainless dickhead."

"Spencer!" You wanted to reprimand him, but the giggles that broke through betrayed your intention completely. "You don't know that. You've never even met the guy."

"Don't need to. He's got to be the biggest idiot in the world to have the audacity to stand you up when he should be thanking you for even giving him the time of day in the first place."

Your stomach churned into knots. "You appraise me way too highly, Spencer."

"I appraise you exactly as you deserve." Spencer's shoulder bumped against yours. Even under the layers of clothes you were wearing, your skin still managed to burn. "I wish you could see that."

His words washed over you like a high tide. Spencer was the only one who held such power in the world; the power to render you compliant just by the utterance of several words.

It should have been terrifying.

"Do you want to go home?" Spencer offered as he rose to his feet. "C'mon. I'll drive you."

"What? But your case—"

"They'll be fine without me."

You followed him to one of the parked SUVs several paces ahead. Spencer meandered for a minute towards a group of people whom you could only assume was his team. You offered a small wave and an awkward smile when their gazes slithered your way.

"I feel bad for taking you away like this," you admitted once Spencer returned. He had tendrils of curly hair falling down his forehead, and it took every willpower you had not to reach out and stroke them away.

"It's fine. They understand. We all cover each other all the time when one of us has more urgent things to do."

You were 100% certain that taking you home should not have been categorized as "more urgent things to do". After all, Spencer was a federal agent working a federal case, and you could've easily taken the metro or a taxi back to your place. If it had been any other person with you at that moment—if it had been any other guy—you doubted they would have gone through all those troubles for you.

But Spencer was different.

In a world of boys, Spencer Reid was a gentleman.

He opened the car door for you before getting himself into the driver's seat. The drive back to your apartment lasted a little over twenty minutes. You stared at the building outside your window before turning to face Spencer.

"I'm sorry again for hindering you from your job."

"Are you seriously just gonna keep apologizing to me?"

You grinned. "Maybe. Unless, well, you'd let me treat you to lunch sometimes. Or dinner. Whatever works for you."

Spencer chuckled. "Deal. Just text me when and where, okay?"

You bid your goodbye and exited the SUV. Just before you could close the door, though, Spencer suddenly called out your name.

You bent down and peered inside the car. "Yes?"

Spencer assessed you in silence before looking away. "Nothing. Just... don't forget to brush your teeth."

"Brush my teeth? Who are you? My mom?"

Spencer waved you off when you started to laugh.

"Goodnight, Spencer," you said one last time, slamming the car door and heading towards the entrance of your building.

Spencer's heart stirred as he watched you walk away. "Goodnight, angel."

1K notes · View notes

entitled-fangirl · 3 months

Text

Two idiots in love (P2)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: the three survivors try to find the supplies they left behind. The two lovebirds bond over the reader passing out.

Words: 2,135

Warnings: anemia, cursing, passing out, lots of bickering

Part 1 and Part 3

Masterlist <3

............................................................

She woke up long after Joel had gotten up.

So, she didn't see the way he held her in their sleep. Or the slight smile on his face as he slumbered.

But Ellie did.

Now, the three were packed up, and ready to continue their journey.

They walked along a gravel road, gravel crunching under their feet being the only sound they could hear in the forest.

"Have you gone this way a lot? No infected?" Ellie asked.

Joel was in a much calmer mood today, his voice soft, but his body still very much tense, his eyes scanning the area constantly, "Not a lot, no."

"What are you looking for?"

"People."

More silence.

Joel started to notice Y/N taking smaller, slower steps. Her lungs expanded more than his. It was hard to keep up with his long strides, regardless of her illness. Joel was very long-legged, and the two girls were very much not.

But Joel's head turned to see her slowly fall behind.

He looked forward once more, his steps naturally slowing until she was next to him again.

"Oh.... thank you, Joel."

He turned, "…You doing alright?"

She nodded, "Yeah, I feel okay."

He rests a hand on her shoulder, "Then don't thank me."

More silence.

The silence could be nice, if you made it so. Y/N certainly enjoyed it. It meant she could focus on her breathing and not the constant bickering of the teen and her partner.

Her smuggling partner.

But, as usual, Ellie broke the silence again.

"Are Bill and Frank nice?"

Y/N nodded her head, Joel answering, "Frank is."

"How'd you get that scar on your head?"

Joel let out a sigh, causing Ellie to smile.

"What? Is it something lame? Like you feel down the stairs or something?"

Y/N looked over Joel, "Ellie…"

"I didn't fall down any stairs."

"Okay, so what then?"

"Someone shot at me and missed."

"See, that's cool. You shoot back?"

"Yeah."

"You get him?"

Another sigh comes from Joel, "No, I missed, too. It happens more often than you think."

"'Cause you suck at shooting or, like, in general?"

Y/N stepped in again, "Hey…"

Joel looked over to Ellie with a glare, "…in general."

More silence.

Y/N got a smirk on her face, "Be glad that they both missed."

Ellie immediately moved to walk by Y/N instead, interested in her story, "…what? What do you mean?"

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, the other hand kept on his gun holster.

Y/N leaned in towards Ellie, "…why do YOU think, Ellie? You're a smart girl."

Ellie thought for a while before a huge grin appeared on her face. She pointed back and forth between Y/N and Joel, "You mean… you two… and that…?"

Y/N let out a soft laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, we did."

"That's so fucking cool! See, Joel? That's not lame, that's cool as fuck!"

Joel grunted, his voice dropping slightly, "I'm glad me almost fucking killing her is cool to you, kid."

Y/N grabbed Ellie's arm, giving her a small wink.

Ellie noticed the two different guns in Joel's holsters. "With it just being us, I was thinking I should pro-"

"No."

Y/N let out a breath, holding back a laugh. Laughing would slow her down- slow them all down. She was the weak link. She couldn't let things get the best of her.

More silence.

…

"Cumberland Farms."

The three approached an old convenience store, the building covered in vines and broken cement.

Joel turned around to look at Ellie, "Hang back a minute. I gotta grab some stuff I stashed."

Ellie's head tilted, "Stashed? Why do you have stuff stashed here?"

"You ask a lot of goddamn questions."

"Yes, yes I do."

Joel opened the door, poking his head in to check for people.

"…so…. Are you gonna answer me or what?"

Joel sighs again, "We hide supplies on routes in case we find ourselves short on gear, which I currently am 'cause-"

"-No way!"

Ellie immediately runs in, approaching a mortal combat arcade machine. "You ever play this one? I had a friend who knew everything about this game."

Joel tugged at Y/N, pulling her to one of the tables, pushing on it to ensure it was strong, "Sit. You need to rest."

She huffed, pulling her self up to sit on the table, her legs swinging as she watched the girl.

"…there's this one character named Mileena who takes off her mask and she has monster teeth and then she swallows you whole and barfs out your bones! Oh, man."

The two girls turn their head when Joel kicks at a rack.

Ellie sighs, "You forgot where you put your stuff."

Joel looked up, "No, I'm just zeroing in on it. It's been a couple of years."

"Okay, well… I'm gonna take a look around, see if there's anything good."

"Trust me, it's all been picked over already."

Ellie's feet crunch over the glass on the ground, "Maybe, maybe not."

Joel pushes on one of the aisles against the wall.

Ellie moves further away from the two, "Is there anything bad in here?"

"Just you."

"Getting funnier."

Ellie then goes to the back part of the store, away from Joel and Y/N.

Joel mutters a quiet, "Fuck."

Y/N pushes herself off the table, moving towards him to help.

He looks up, "No. No, you go back. I'm fine."

She sighs, "I don't think you are."

He stands straight, his hands on his hips, "Alright, then, sweet girl, tell me where the fuck we left it?"

"I don't know, Joel. Ju-"

Ellie zones out on their bickering as she starts to get further and further away from them. She pushes on a door, opening it with a loud creak. She kicks at the stuff on the ground, inspecting it with her shoe. Eventually, she finds a trap door. She moves everything off it, opening it slowly.

She hears Joel's voice from the front of the store, "You all right back there?"

She jumps, "Uh, yep!"

She hears the two begin to bicker quietly again, prompting her to continue.

Y/N let out a light sigh, "Listen, Joel. It's been years. The odds that no one has taken our stuff isn't realistic. Let's just forget about it, yeah?"

He shakes his head, not even looking at her, "no. That's not an option."

"Not an option? Joel, everything we're doing now is a fucking option! It's not gonna be here!"

"IT HAS TO BE!"

She steps back from him slightly, an involuntary breath leaving her throat. Her breathing picks up, hurting her lungs.

His eyes soften at her reaction, his voice dropping again, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I… Fuck."

She puts some distance between them, giving them both room to breathe. "I… what…. What's so important about what you left here, Joel?"

He looks up towards the ceiling, his hands moving back to his hips as he slowed his breathing. His voice became a low whisper, "…it's…. It's for you… your medication…"

Her face became one of surprise, "…what?"

"When… when we left stuff here… I left some of your medication because I knew… fuck, I KNEW something like this would happen and you'd need it."

She was speechless. He came here for her. To get her more medication. "…uh… thank you…"

He nodded, "Don't thank me, honey. Don't thank me yet."

But that moment was quickly interrupted by the sound of an infected's scratchy growl.

The two turned their head towards the noise.

Ellie.

Joel immediately turned to Y/N, "You're gonna stay here."

She grimaced, but listened anyway.

He pulled out his knife, walking toward where he last saw the girl go. "Ellie…?"

She quickly came through the doorway, "Picked over, my ass."

A breath of relief came from both adults.

…

"Holy shit!"

The two turned to the hill Ellie was looking at, a plane crash's remains laid there, scattered over the land.

"You fly in one of those?"

Joel shrugged, "Few time, sure."

"So lucky."

"Didn't feel like it at the time. Get shoved into a middle seat, pay 12 bucks for a sandwich."

Y/N let out a laugh, Joel turning to her, "What, sweetheart? You find that funny?"

"Fuck yeah, I do."

He felt a smile grow on his face, "Jesus, you're something else."

Ellie jumped back in, "Dude, you got to go up in the sky."

Joel turned back to the crash, "Yeah, well, so did they."

A silence fell over them before Joel grabbed Y/N's wrist, pulling her with him. And they began the grueling walk again.

…

A little while later, Joel puts a hand out in front of both girls, stopping them, "We'll cut across the woods here."

Ellie tilted her head, "Isn't the road easier?"

"Yeah, it's just- There's stuff up there you shouldn't see."

"Well, now I want to."

"I don't want you to."

Ellie began to walk forward, Joel following, "Serious. Ellie."

"You're too honest, man."

Y/N sighed, starting to walk behind them, "Jesus, you two…"

Then she stopped.

She was losing her vision, "Oh, fuck."

Joel turned immediately, "Hey. Ellie, stop. Sweetheart?"

Y/N brought a hand up to her head, as if it could stop the black clouding her vision.

Joel watched with a worried look in his eye, "You alright?"

She looked up, "I… I don't know…"

She fell to her knees.

"Oh Fuck!" Joel ran to her quickly, squatting down next to her.

Ellie watched the two from afar, not sure how to help.

"Sweetheart. You gotta lay down. C'mon. Lay down."

Y/N let out a groan, not wanting to move in fear of making things worse.

Ellie began to walk towards them, "what's going on? Is she gonna die?"

Joel's voice turned to stone, "SHE'S NOT GONNA FUCKING DIE!"

Ellie stopped walking, deciding to give them privacy.

Joel let out a sigh, his focus entirely on Y/N, "You gotta lay down, Sweetheart."

She sighed, "….help me… please."

Joel didn't need to be asked twice.

He immediately shrugged off his jacket, getting his plan in motion.

He moved behind her, pushing her torso backwards towards him. He played his jacket on the ground in front of him, right where her back would meet the ground.

He pulled her hair to the side, letting her head rest on his leg.

"Alright, honey. How do you feel?"

"I… can't see… anything…"

He sighed, "that's alright. You need to sleep?"

She shook her head, but stopped seeing as it made things worse, "No… I….I'm…. Fine..." She was slowly losing consciousness.

"Shit. Shh…. Just.... Let it happen…."

He held her face with one hand, the other still resting on the gun on his hip in case of an emergency.

…

Half an hour later, her eyes opened to see Joel hadn't moved since she had passed out. One hand still held her jaw, his thumb brushing her skin lightly, but his other had moved to her hair, lightly playing with it.

She saw Joel give a relieved look before his hands disappeared from her completely. "Oh, thank god. How you feeling, Sweetheart?"

She let out a groan, "achy."

He smiled, "Well, do we need to stop?"

She shook her head, "No. I can do this."

She sat up slowly, letting her body adjust to the feeling. Joel stood up, moving in front of her. He then held out a hand, offering to help her up.

She took it, of course. His other arm snaked around her waist for stability. When he decided she was stable enough, his moved his hands back, letting her adjust the rest of the way herself.

She leaned forward, whispering in his ear, "…thank you."

He felt a little color come to his cheeks, "Don't thank-"

"Take my fucking gratitude for once, Joel."

He laughed, "Alright. Just this once. You're welcome."

Her head immediately looked around, trying to find Ellie.

She was not too far, her famous shit eating grin on her face.

Joel knew he wouldn't hear the end of it. "Alright. Get up, Ellie. We go at Y/N's speed, got that?"

Ellie nodded, mumbling under her breath, "Yeah, you do everything her way, don'tcha?"

His head turned, "What the fuck did you just say?"

Her eyes shuffled between the two, "Nothing, sir."

He huffed, beginning to let Y/N take the lead on their walk.

Ellie caught up with Y/N, "Say… you think you can tell me that story?"

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed, "…what story?"

"The one where you almost shot Joel."

She laughed, "Yeah… yeah, I can do that."

They heard Joel's voice behind them, "Hey. Watch it."

They giggled, continuing their journey with a smile.

..........................................................

part 3

#fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction

645 notes · View notes

mysecretlittlelibrary · 9 months

Text

So Much To Learn

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: a lot, again; Sub!Spencer and kinda mean dom reader, oral (f receiving), age gap (reader is 21), hand job/teasing, honorifics & pet names, marking a lot, p in v sex, they both talking diiiiirty, minor praise, risky sex, multiple orgasms, edging, squirting- I think I got everything??

Genre: Smut kinda fluff and like minor minor angst if you squint

Summary: You don't react well when you realize someone else is giving your professor boyfriend entirely too much of their attention

A/N: technically this is a continuation of So Much To Teach but order is arbitrary lol

Part 1< >Part 3

***

The weeks after Spencer's confession in his office are- fun to say the least. Meeting in secret, teasing him in class, it's all very exciting. With finals just around the corner now though, you're not sure what it means for the two of you. Will he be interested in establishing anything solid with you once you're out of his class? Will things continue as they are? Will he toss you aside only to replace you with another student from another class next semester? The last possibility bothers you more than you'd like to admit. You'll have to find a good time to bring it up to him soon. Between preparing for final exams or papers and Spencer's near insatiable appetite for time with you there's never a moment you want to risk ruining with what will no doubt be an awkward conversation.

There's a slight knock on the door at the back of the classroom that interrupts Spencer's lecture and your wandering mind. Everyone turns to see another professor walk into the room.

"Oh shoot. I'm so sorry Spence I- I thought your class would be over by now." Professor Greene says. She has the decency to look remorseful although you've noticed her sniffing around Spencer for a little while now so you roll your eyes to yourself.

"Oh don't worry about it Professor Greene we're just wrapping up, come on in." Spencer says kindly. "Alright guys reminder, your finals are online and are due at the end of finals week- that's Friday in two weeks' time. We're not meeting on Thursday but next Tuesday for our final meeting time together I'll be having a review session. It's not mandatory but I'll be here during our class time to answer any last minute study questions you may have. I hope to see you next week but if not good luck on all your finals, if you're graduating congratulations, enjoy your holidays, and have a good day!" Spencer dismisses the class. Usually, you'd linger to drop by his office after class but with Professor Greene about to commandeer his attention, you're not sure if you should. Still, you take your time packing up your things while listening in on their conversation.

"I really am so sorry I interrupted your lecture, Spence. I just wanted to ask about the staff meeting I missed the other day." Professor Greene says.

"Oh don't worry about it, Professor Greene but I can email you my notes from the meeting real quick." Spencer says walking over to his computer.

"I've told you a thousand times Spencer call me Ellie." She says patting his shoulder. Spencer mutters something you can barely hear as you exit the classroom. You don't catch the way his eyes trail after you for a moment before he focuses back on sending this email.

"Y/n!" Matt calls pretty much as soon as you make it out of the classroom.

"Oh, hey Lewis. What's up?"

"Was wondering if you were free to meet up sometime to do some studying for the final? Ya know that way we can help each other with things that are confusing and anything we can't figure out together- we can bring up next week during the review session."

"Ya know what that's a great idea Matt. Why don't we do Thursday- since we don't have class we can just hit the library during that time." You suggest.

"Perfect. I'll meet you at the library on Thursday then." Matt smiles, rushing ahead to catch up with some friends. You make your way to Spencer's office like you do after every class although usually you walk together. Today you sit on the bench that's a few feet from his office and wait for him while reading a book.

"Sweetheart. I was wondering where you ran off to." Spencer says when he reaches his office.

"Didn't want to interrupt. She likes you, you know."

"What?" He frowns over his shoulder at you as he unlocks his office door.

"Professor Greene. She was totally flirting with you when she came in during class." You stand up and follow him into his office.

"Was she?" He hums.

"You're telling me you didn't notice?" You scoff.

"Do you want me to notice other women flirting with me?"

"I don't care, Spencer, you're not my boyfriend-"

"Hey, that's not fair." He frowns. You know it's not, Spencer told you early on the only thing stopping him from labeling your relationship was because of how risky it is to date your professor, but you're apparently facing jealousy and it's making you mean.

"I was only saying she's being really obvious. Whether you're interested or not though, is your business. I have some studying to do so I can't stick around today but I didn't want to disappear without letting you know." You say dismissively.

"Y/n," Spencer says softly.

"I'll see you next week." You tell him, turning on your heel. You need to get your feelings under control and quickly.

"I'm not interested in her. You have to know you're the only one on my mind." Spencer says before you make it out the door. You're not even sure what to say back, so you leave without a word.

You've never considered yourself a jealous or insecure person but for some reason, Professor Greene really gets under your skin when it comes to Spencer. Maybe it's because you know it would be easier for him to date her, she's close to his age and there's no taboo surrounding that pairing. That doesn't make feeling this way any less annoying. I mean- you've been ignoring her attempts at making advances at him for the past couple of months but you think the stress of exams and final papers is exacerbating a feeling you normally wouldn't even notice. Honestly, you have entirely too much else going on to be wasting time focused on staking your claim over a man that's only yours in locked offices, empty halls, and dark rooms. You don't fight over men, if Professor Greene can 'take him from you' she can absolutely have him.

By Thursday when you meet up with Matt, you've managed to knock those ugly thoughts of Spencer and Professor Greene to the back of your head, drowning yourself in studying and paper writing. You have no problems in Spencer's class, even before you were fucking him you had an A average so his final is the least of your worries but you know a review can't hurt. You spend way longer than the length of a class studying with Matt, he's a good student which appears to come with great effort on his part. He goes over things in such depth you're actually a little impressed and for a moment there you wonder what it would be like to pick the easy lover. Matt's kind, and attractive, and it would be much less complicated, no sneaking around- well maybe a bit but it would be for fun, not out of necessity. He'd walk you to class holding your hand, and kiss you on the quad, you'd probably adopt his whole friend group, they're athletes whose girlfriends always seem to be adored by all of them. It would be nice, it would be sweet. If things with Spencer do end at the end of the term you'll seriously consider falling for Matt. The version of reality where you end up with him sounds good. If only you'd realized it before Spencer caught your eye so severely. Would things be different? Would you be holding Matt's hand across the table right now? Sitting next to each other in class? Having him over to study late into the night until you'd have him just stay over because you don't want him to leave so late? It seems silly to spend so much time dwelling on a world that you gave up months ago. You blame it on the stress of the end of a semester.

When Tuesday rolls around you go to the review session knowing you don't actually have any questions but maybe someone will ask one you didn't think of that will come in handy. There are not that many people here for the review, some kids from other sections for sure, but still only maybe 20 of you in total. Spencer tries a number of times to catch your attention while he answers questions to gauge how you're feeling but you don't give anything away on your face. That is until Professor Greene walks in about halfway through the review session.

"Hi Spence! Sorry to interrupt, I know you're reviewing for finals and stuff but I ordered a sandwich for lunch and they gave me 2? I just thought I'd offer you one." She smiles as she scurries to the front of the room. Spencer catches the wry smile that just barely cracks your poker face for a moment and he's almost nervous to address Professor Greene.

"Oh- I appreciate it Professor Greene but I brought lunch, I always do. Perhaps Mike would like it if he's on campus? I know he usually buys food at the student center for lunch." He offers. Graceful rejection. Hopefully enough to keep you happy and put off his coworker at the same time. You make a point to not react outwardly but you do notice his choice to call her Professor Greene while calling another professor in the building Mike despite her giggling request last week to call her by her first name.

"Mike?" She blinks at him.

"Yeah he's- probably doing some grading in his office upstairs." Spencer smiles. "Anyone have any other questions for me?" He turns his attention back to the small group of students who mostly seem ready to leave after watching the exchange.

"The exam is a combination of multiple choice and short answer right?" A woman asks.

"Correct, just like your exams in class." He nods. "It- seems like we've covered all your questions guys so, I think it's okay for us to wrap this up a bit early yes?" Spencer asks. Professor Greene is still in the room but Spencer avoids her gaze diligently as the class murmurs affirmatives.

"Spence before you head off can I speak to you for a moment?" Professor Greene asks quietly while the rest of the room is busy packing up their things.

"Of course." He answers reluctantly. "Miss y/n, don't go far I have an assignment of yours I'd like to discuss in my office." Spencer tells you before you can even stand up.

"Sure prof." You drawl resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"Look Spencer the sandwich was- a decoy. I mean they did give me an extra that I wanted to offer you but it was really an excuse to ask you something else." Professor Greene's tone is hushed as you and a few others are still milling about the room.

"Oh- well what is it?" Spencer asks though his gaze shifts to you every so often. You who sits so seemingly unbothered waiting for him, chewing gum, tapping away on your phone, not even looking their way although your ears are definitely paying attention.

"I'm having a little faculty get-together and I wanted to invite you personally."

"What, like going out for drinks?"

"Yeah exactly! Will you be there?"

"Uh- email me the details and I'll let you know."

"Awesome! I really hope to see you there Spence." She places her hand on his arm and he quickly walks over to his satchel to escape the touch.

"I'll- see what I can do." He mutters. "Is that all? I don't want to keep y/n waiting all afternoon."

"Y/n?" She frowns.

"My student? The only person in the room. Who I asked to wait up when I dismissed everyone?" Spencer frowns at her.

"Right! I guess I forgot. One track mind sometimes." She waves off with a giggle. How unnecessarily dismissive.

"Y/n. My office. Ready to go?" He turns his attention to you without even addressing her comment.

"Whenever you're done." You shrug.

"That would be now."

"Alright. Let's go." You stand up and exit the class before him.

"I'll see you at the gathering Spencer." Professor Greene says as he follows you out. You don't say anything as you walk down the halls with Spencer trailing behind. He thinks he handled that well but he can't tell. It's like you're being hard to read on purpose. He unlocks his office door and lets you inside before him, shutting it behind him.

"Look I-"

"I think you should go." You tell him first.

"What?"

"To her little get together. I think you should go." You shrug.

"You do?" He frowns which deepens when you nod. "Why?" He asks.

"It's good for you to socialize with your coworkers." You offer noncommittally.

"You're in a better mood about her today than you were last week." He says carefully.

"Is the door locked?" You ask him.

"What?"

"To your office. Did you lock the door?"

"Oh- yes. I always lock-"

"Yes is sufficient." You say sitting in his office chair.

"Sweetheart, talk to me, what's-" He stops when you hold up one of your hands.

"Spencer, drop to your knees." You say.

"What?" He blinks at you.

"It's a very simple instruction, I would expect a man with as many degrees as you hold would be able to understand a 4-word command."

"I understood it fine I just-"

"Then why are you still standing? If you understood it Spencer do it. I want you on your knees. Now." You cross your arms. Spencer slowly, unsurely, lowers himself to his knees, still by the door to his office. "That's better. Come over to me. And just so we're clear you'll have to crawl." Spencer bends and shuffles over to you on his hands and knees, gaze pointed at the carpet in his office. You've discussed the possibility of him giving up control a number of times but this is not how he expected today to go. When he's by your side you lift his chin up to force his eyes to yours. "Finals week starts in two days Spence, I've got three papers and two exams to think about. I don't have time to worry about if you're going to behave or not." You tell him.

"I-"

"Choose your next words very carefully baby they might just ruin your day." You warn him.

"I would never misbehave darling. My loyalties are to you." He says softly.

"Are you willing to prove that?" You ask.

"However you ask me to." He says immediately.

"I like that answer." You hum. You tug your dress over your head and drop it on his desk. "You can start by removing my panties with your teeth." You tell him. "Just your teeth. I want your hands behind your back." You add. Spencer shuffles forward and tugs at your underwear with his teeth. You move only when absolutely necessary to help but he gets them off after a few moments and holds them between his lips, looking at you for further instructions. "Good boy professor." You pull them from his mouth and drop them on the desk beside your dress. "You'll need your mouth free for this next bit." You say threading your fingers into his hair. "Your loyalties are with me you said?"

"Of course princess." Spencer's reply is breathy.

"Hm- no, not princess. Today you can call me mistress or your queen. I'll let you choose but only between those two. Anything else will get you in trouble and- today is not the day to get in trouble."

"O-okay, My Queen."

"Good. And as for proving your loyalties, you can begin with your head between my thighs, let's see how loyal you are." You spread your legs and tug at his hair still in your hand hard enough to shove his face directly into your center. Spencer is quick to react, his tongue laps up your juices as eagerly as you'd expect. He will regularly spend ages between your legs when he can just because he enjoys tasting you so much. Your back arches as he thrusts his tongue into your pussy feverishly. "Yeah, oh fuck, keep going. Show me- show me your devotion." You moan out as you grind against his mouth. Spencer groans into you as you pull at his hair. His tongue curls inside you just barely brushing against that spongy patch and you have to bite your lip to keep from squealing when he does. Spencer's nose nudges at your clit as he focuses his tongue on your inner walls until your legs stiffen around his ears. When that happens he drags his tongue up to your clit and focuses his attention there, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucking on it while his tongue lashes it with figure 8s. You almost scream when your orgasm crashes into you, fingers tightening in his hair and your back coming off the chair as you ride the waves of your release. "Don't- don't stop Spence. Fuck- keep sucking my clit." You pant out. Your eyes squeeze shut at the almost painful stimulation, but you want a second orgasm from him before you let him up for air and you plan to get it. You swallow your whines from those first few moments of post-orgasmic overstimulation and force Spencer further into your heat, practically smooshing his face against you. Your moan when overstimulation gives way to pure pleasure again is enough to have Spencer clenching his fists as more blood rushes to his already painfully hard dick. It fills him with a new level of determination as he sharpens the movements of his tongue against you. Your second orgasm builds quickly, and within a few minutes, you're shaking again, this orgasm covering Spencer's face and even squirting onto his shirt. You pull his hair harshly enough to move him away from you as you take a few deep breaths. Spencer sits panting, covered in your juices, pupils blown so wide there's no trace of his hazel-colored irises. "Look at what a mess you are." You hum. "You look pretty like this."

"Thank you- mistress." His voice is hoarse.

"Strip and sit on the couch. You can walk this time." You tell him. He stands, though a little unsteadily, and walks over to the loveseat, taking off his shirt and then his pants before sitting down with his gaze trained on you. You take your time standing from his chair and walking over to him, detouring to grab your jacket that you'd tossed over your backpack upon entry. You won't put the dress back on for now, having totally soaked your lover you have no interest in walking out of here in a damp dress, but your leather jacket will be fine. Spencer watches you with rapt attention as you finally approach him, his dick is an angry looking red flopped against his stomach and his whole body is tense. You drag a finger across his thigh and then up the length of his dick, slowly, reveling in the way he jolts at the contact.

"P-please." He gasps out.

"Please what Spencer?" You tilt your head at him.

"I- I need you to do something my queen I can't- it hurts."

"Do something? I'm already touching you. You need more?"

"Yes mistress, please." Spencer's head is tossed back against the couch as you trace the veins along his dick lazily.

"You're a greedy thing." You hum.

"Please mistress- please my queen I need- god please sit on my dick. Need it so bad- need you. I can't- can't help it." Spencer grips the cushions beneath him tightly, desperately trying not to squirm under your touch.

"Only because you beg very cutely." You tell him swinging your leg over to straddle him. You grip the base of his dick in your hand and lower yourself onto him with a satisfied hum while he lets out a guttural sound that makes your walls clench around him.

"Oh god thank you, my queen. thank you, thank you. You feel so good." Spencer pants out. You brace yourself using his shoulders and set your rhythm, bouncing on his dick quickly.

"Spencer, you're not allowed to cum until I say so." You tell him, grabbing his face to make sure he's listening.

"O-okay mistress. Of course mistress." He nods frantically.

"Fuck Spence this is what you're good for, this is where you belong. Filling me with your pretty little cock, covered in my squirt, you're mine aren't you baby?" You huff as you ride him furiously.

"Yes my queen yes. I'm yours. Just yours. Only you get to use me, touch me, take me. Only you make me feel so good." Spencer groans. You feel his body tense up under you and slow your pace almost to a stop.

"Not yet Spence." You mutter sweetly kissing his neck. You stay there for a few moments, grinding against him as you take some time to litter his throat with hickeys of various sizes some of which are quite dark as well. Dark enough that you're sure he'll have them through finals week. When you're satisfied with the marks covering him you pick up your pace again and his small whimpers from your lips against his skin turn to full-blown moans again. "This time Spencer you can cum, but you ask first." You tell him. He nods at your instruction and while you should scold him for not using his words you'll let it slide considering how close you know he is. He barely manages a few minutes before he's stuttering out his request.

"C-can I mistress please can I cum?" He pants out frantically.

"Good boy. Yes you can." You chuckle airily at the relief on his face when you give him permission. You keep pace until heat spills into you at which point your hips slam down harder against him even when he begins hissing from overstimulation.

"M-my queen I- too sensitive w-wait."

"I said you could cum baby but I didn't say I'd be done with you. Today you're my toy and I'll use you as long as I want. So be good and let me play." You say, letting yourself relish in the feeling of filling yourself over and over, even as his release leaks out of you and makes his thighs sticky. You moan in surprise when Spencer's dick hardens again inside you. "Oh- fuck. Well aren't you just the perfect plaything- eager to keep your queen happy."

"I- I- yes mistress." He whines. You ride him for a while longer, taking all he has to give and then some. He fills you two more times before you're satisfied and you make sure you have a couple more releases of your own by the time you're climbing off of his completely spent dick. You walk carefully over to his desk and grab his pack of wet wipes before walking back over to him, cleaning up the utter mess around his thighs. If he didn't look so exhausted you'd have him clean the mess on your thighs with his tongue, but right now you think if you asked Spencer to do anything else he'd simply collapse, so you take a few wipes to clean up yourself once you're done with him.

"You were very good today Spencer. I'd say you more than proved your devotion." You tell him with a gentle kiss.

"You're mean when you're jealous." He chuckles breathlessly.

"So are you professor." You tap his nose and stand to dress yourself. You pick his clothes up from the floor and lay them on the arm of the chair for whenever he gets the energy to stand and dress himself. You find his lunch and set it out for him on the table as well while you're at it.

"Are you leaving?" He asks, barely able to focus.

"Well- I do have some studying to do. Will you be okay? Do you want me to stay?" You ask. You won't leave him if he's going to drop but you've set up food, cleaned him up, and made sure he knows he did well.

"I- I don't want Professor Greene you know." He mumbles.

"I know, that's why I think you should go to her gathering. With all those pretty marks on your neck, she'll surely get the hint." You say. You bend over and gently brush some hair from his eyes. "You make me feel so territorial." You mutter.

"I'm sorry." He pouts.

"It's not your fault, it's unavoidable but- I don't like hiding you." You say.

"I don't like hiding you either." Spencer takes your hand in his. You pause for a moment and sigh.

"Do you want me to stay with you, Spence?" You ask brushing your thumb against the back of his hand.

"Can you spare the time?" He asks.

"Sure. But at some point, we should talk about what the end of the semester means for us." You say. Spencer sits up and you sit on the couch letting him rest his head in your lap.

"When you finish all your finals I have a question for you." He slurs a bit through his declaration.

"Why not just ask me now?"

"I want your head clear." You can barely make it out, he's obviously falling asleep, your fingers against his scalp lulling him too quickly. You're still high off adrenaline now, not quite ready to sleep but you know you'll feel the effects of this later. Good thing tomorrow is study day and you can get away with not leaving your apartment.

***

A/N: I was gonna post this on Friday but I’m posting it early as a thank you for all the love on part 1 already 🖤

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid

1K notes · View notes

bitchy-craft · 5 months

Text

Who’s Thinking About You | Pick A Pile

Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find out who is thinking about you. I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I do want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people: therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Masterpost > Questions > Paid Readings

Pick A Pile!

Pile 1:

A playful person is thinking of you; possibly a younger sibling or someone younger that looks up to you. They see you as an inspiration and adore how you guide yourself through difficult tasks (school, hobby, work etc.), they really look up to you with how you handle things, they are proud of you and want to impress you.

They find some things difficult to understand or sit in your shadow, but they like it that way. They like to observe, see and learn, to have ideas and thought about his own future and how they can be like you. They are possibly shy, or don’t say much when around people of authority or strangers, they get uncomfortable and possibly scared of some form of disappointment. They don’t understand why, but they always try to make sure to do his best and please the people around him.

Whenever you leave they feel left behind or not liked, but they understand that’s how life goes, and that you’ll come back soon again. They understand how you have a different life than them but they are still sad about it and that’s alright. They love you and want to spend time with you (or more).

Pile 2:

A person of authority is thinking about you with a worry they don’t feel like they should express, at least not all of it. They feel like you don’t understand how serious certain situations are and that you shouldn’t joke around about them. They feel like you’re trying to figure yourself out but you’re not quite there yet but they won’t intervene and give you the time and space you need to succeed in that.

They care for you and find you very important although they have a hard time expressing these feelings sometimes since they don’t always understand what’s going around in your head, how certain things you’re interested in work etc.

Because they find this difficult to understand they often use their authority over you in ways you do not appreciate nor like. They do this because they don’t understand how to get close to you, how to understand you and how to get to know you. It’s like wanting to control someone and let them go at their own pace but hating that there is not enough control to begin with.

Pile 3:

An entity is thinking about you and watching over you, They love to see you experience new things and work through difficult moments, they love and enjoy to see you grow and would want to be able to help / be more in your life.

They want to walk with you through all the troubles you’ll be going through in your life, guide you through them to help you learn from them in a healthy and understanding way. They want you to get you to know yourself and rid all things that no longer serve purpose to you.

This entity gives off a very parental and caring energy, something they want to share with you to get you to feel more comfortable in all troubles and new situations. They want you to look back at things you keep with you that still hurt or bother you, they want to help you do shadow work how unknown or scary it may be, they are there for you to guide and help you.

They know it might take some time, but they’ll patiently wait until you feel like your ready, although with a lot of you they know that you’re already ready for this new part in your life.

576 notes · View notes

iluvmattsbeard · 11 days

Text

kiss me (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: none!

preview: you were the odd one out from the group. nobody really paid attention to you and you were aware you weren't a sight for sore eyes. never anybody's choice. little did you know someone saw something in you.

a/n: this imagine is sort of based off 'she's all that', not entirely, but that's where I got inspo to write this! listen to the song for the full effect lmao. enjoy!

"alright people! prom is coming up! make sure to purchase your tickets in the auditorium if you're planning to come! tickets at its lowest price!" you hear over the inner come. you didn't even bat an eye at the announcement. you never understood the fascination in prom. the fancy dresses, the excitement of being prom queen, and etc. it was not your scene.

your thoughts were interrupted by someone shaking you. "y/n! are you excited? our last prom!" Nick says excitedly still shaking you. you look at him with a still face. "totally." you respond sarcastically. you watch him frown as he responds, "oh come on y/n. why are you being sarcastic?" you sigh, "you know this isn't my type of thing." you respond. "you got that right." Chris blurts out. you weren't even fazed by it. Nick shoots him a sharp glare, "don't be rude."

"no he's right Nick, I am not someone who should be at prom." you say. all Nick does is roll his eyes, "everyone is welcomed at prom. can you at least think about it?" he says with a small pout.

you let out a small laugh, "maybe. now stop bugging me about it." all he does is nod and smile. the bell rings initiating that lunch is now over.

Matt's POV

i was sat at the dinner table, right next to Chris, as we ate our food in silence. our parents were out doing something so we ended up getting raising cane's. Nick and Chris started bickering when Chris asked him for some fries. "you can't have any since you were being rude earlier." Nick sternly says, pulling his fries closer to him. "dude she said it herself she doesn't belong at prom." Chris replies trying to reach for his fries. “how can you act like that? y/n has feelings you know.” i said as both of them look at me. “you care why?” Chris asks with an eyebrow raised. “because Nick doesn’t owe you any fries.” i reply. Nick looks at Chris with a face as he goes “ha ha”. I had to agree with Nick on this one. Chris’ reply to what y/n said earlier was uncalled for. she didn't need his opinion.

i don't get how she doesn't think she belongs at the event. I always overheard her conversations with Nick and Madi. she always thought of herself as the odd one out. I never thought that. so what if she didn't look like every other girl? to me, I thought she was beautiful in her own unique way. i'd be teased if anybody found out I thought that. but it was nothing but the truth. I couldn't tell her that. I knew she was just too focused with school to even care what I had to say anyways.

End of Matt's POV

*time skips to the week before prom*

it was a Friday evening. you were at Nick's house sitting on his bed, right next to Madi, who was painting her toe nails. "have you given any thought about prom?" Nick says as he's holding his suit and tie against his body in front of the mirror. you let out a groan, "no nick. what is so exciting about it?" you respond. Madi and Nick look at each other then back at you, "maybe because this is the last time you'll have the opportunity to dress up and kill it on the dance floor." Nick says doing a little dance. you shake your head letting out a small laugh. "yeah I don't know about that one." you say, “i think prom is just an excuse for a guy to get into a girl’s pants.” you continue. “if you hang with the right people, like me and Madi, you will avoid that.” Nick says.

you see Madi stand up with her toes pointed up. you and Nick laugh at the scene. "what? I don't want to ruin the paint!" she says with a giggle. you see her reach down to her bag as she pulls out three tickets. "don't tell me the third one is for me." you say, shaking your head slowly.

all Madi does is smile waving it in front of her, looking at Nick, then the both of them looking at you, "you know it is!" they say in sync. you cover your face with your hands shaking your head. you felt defeated. Nick sits right next to you speaking, "it will be fun trust me! you have to take advantage of every moment." "I don't know how to dance, I don't do makeup, and I have nothing to wear." you exclaim.

"don't worry y/n. I got you I promise!" Madi says with the biggest smile on her face. you let out a sigh. what did you get yourself into? Nick gets up doing another little dance, "y/n is going to prom! y/n is going to prom!" he says in a sing song voice as Madi joins along.

Matt's POV

as I was walking down the hall, I over hear Nick and Madi practically singing over and over again. I got closer to Nick's bedroom door as I hear them say, "y/n is going to prom!" I laugh quietly at the chants. they actually convinced her. i'm glad they did. now i wont be the only one not enjoying the experience since Chris is dragging me along. maybe y/n and I will bond over the dreadful experience.

my thought was interrupted by the door opening. my eyes land on y/n. "oh hi Matt." she says with a soft smile. I couldn't help but smile back. I analyzed her face. she had prominent freckles I had never seen before. maybe because I haven't really paid attention. I laugh softly to myself noticing how big her glasses were against her face. they were slightly slipping a bit from the bridge of her nose.

"what's so funny?" she says, raising an eyebrow. I kept a smile, pushing her glasses back up delicately, “nothing.” i say as I turn around to walk away.

as I laid down in bed, closing my eyes, all that popped into my head was her face. the freckles, the soft smile, and the glasses. how could she not realize I notice her? she always talked about how she could never be a first choice. but to me? in a crowd of people I would look at her first. even though I just pointed out that she had freckles, i've never seen, I knew little things she did. like when she laughs she covers her face, when she drinks a beverage she sticks out her pinky finger, and when she's stuck on something she scratches her head a little from frustration. I open my eyes staring at the dark ceiling, smiling at the thought of her. I let out a small sigh. if only she knew.

End of Matt's POV

it was the day before prom. after school, you, Nick, and Madi end up at a little boutique looking for the perfect dress for you. you looked around feeling hopeless. everything looked too much for your liking. "how about this one?" Madi says holding up a pink sparkly long dress with off the shoulder sleeves. you shake your head indicating a 'no'. pink was not your ideal color. you felt like it was too bold.

Nick then walks over with a handful of dresses. "oh my goodness." you spoke, "Nick that is a lot." all he does is smile shaking his head, "come on! try these on!" he says. you hesitate for a bit as you grab the dresses from his hands, walking into the dressing room.

after a few dresses, you were still feeling hopeless. "this isn't working guys." Madi and Nick look at you wearing a green dress with a scrunch on their faces. "yeah no definitely not that one." Nick says. you sit down looking around. your eyes catch a beautiful simple white dress. you get up and walk over to it. "I mean hey. simple is timeless." Madi says smiling. "try it on!" she continues. you nod your head as you walk back into the dressing room. you slip into the dress looking in the mirror. you look up and down at yourself with a smile. Madi was right. simple is timeless. you walk out the dressing room as Nick and Madi cover their mouths in sync. "you are definitely wearing that dress!" Madi squeals in excitement. "definitely! you look beautiful in it y/n." Nick says pretending to sniffle, which caused all three of you to laugh.

Y/n's POV

today was the day. the day I've been dreading. prom night. I stand in front of the white dress I picked out slowly running my hand down it. I let out a small breath as I shake off my nerves. "alright lets do this." I say looking at Madi and Nick who were behind me.

Madi was already done getting ready, so was Nick. Madi was in this beautiful purple corset dress and Nick was wearing a suit with his tie matching the shade of purple of Madi's dress. she sits me down quickly, taking off my glasses, and putting my hair up to get it out of my face. “trust me. you will look like a work of art.” she says smiling at me. me and Nick just laugh. she starts doing my makeup. i've never done my makeup before. I told her I wanted it as simple as possible. which she did.

she hands me a hand held mirror as I look into it. my eyes widen at myself. "Madi... you actually made me look... pretty." I say quietly. she giggles, "more like gorgeous!" she says. Nick then pretends to sniffle, "oh my goodness. our baby girl is growing up so fast." he says. me and Madi laugh at his choice of words. "thank you so much Madi." I stand up hugging her. "don't thank me! it’s literally just your face that’s perfection." she says grabbing my dress, "now, put it on!" she says with a smile clapping her hands excitedly.

i laugh at her actions and grab the dress. I go into the bathroom to change.

End of Y/n's POV

you finally were ready for the night you never expected to attend. you look at yourself one final time in the mirror smiling. "here we go." you whisper to yourself before picking up your heels.

downstairs, Matt and Chris were struggling to do their ties. Nick gets downstairs and sees them. "i'll help with that." he says walking up to the boys. "thank you." Matt and Chris say in unison. "are we all ready to go?" Chris says looking around. Madi steps down the stairs clearing her throat. "where's y/n?" Chris says.

"she will be down in a second. but first! I would like to say, this is my favorite masterpiece yet!" Madi exclaims smiling. "okay well get her down here." Chris says with an eyebrow raised. Madi looks up the stairs and yells out, "oh y/n! get your cute butt down here!" everyone laughs as Madi steps down completely from the stair case. steps now can be heard going down slowly. Chris stares with his jaw dropped. Matt looks up as he freezes in his place with his mouth agape.

Matt's POV

as I looked up at the stairs and see her, all I could do was stay still taking in a gulp. she was beautiful. she lets a small smile appear on her face. i couldn't take my eyes off of her.

End of Matt's POV

as you step down slowly, you stumble a bit at the end of the stairs as Madi quickly holds on to your hand. "still learning to walk in these." you let out a nervous laugh. Chris repeats his question, "how?!" Nick rolls his eyes, "don't ask stupid questions."

everyone, except you and Matt, step outside preparing to leave. you had your glasses in your hand, placing them down on the counter. Matt rubs the back of his neck slightly, "uh hey." you hear him say. "hi Matt.” you say turning around looking at him up and down, “you look really good." you say smiling. "thank you. you look- uh-good too." he stutters out a bit. you let out a small laugh as you thank him. "lets go!" Nick shouts.

*time skips to the prom*

you all walk inside as you look around at everyone. there was loud music blasting and you see couples dancing up against each other. you cringe at the sight. Chris walks off meeting his buddies. Madi and Nick grab your hands pulling you onto the dance floor. you shake your head quickly as they both laugh. "let's dance the night away!" Madi screams out. you kind of just stood there not knowing what to do. but you swayed a little to the music. Nick was going all out making you laugh. "okay Nick! work it!" Madi shouts smiling.

“wait wait wait!” Nick stops in his place a little breathless. “let’s go get our photos taken before we look like a mess from all of this dancing.” he says. you and Madi nod walking with Nick towards the photographer waiting in line. you were still feeling anxious about what could happen tonight. you didn’t want to make a complete fool out of yourself.

you catch a glimpse at the photographer. it was your math teacher, ms. rose. as you guys were next you couldn’t help but notice her face. “y/n? is that you?” ms. rose says smiling. you nod smiling back, “hello ms. rose.” “i’m glad you made it!” she says looking around. “did you bring a date?” she asks excitedly. you shake your head quickly, “absolutely not.” all she does is laugh and prepares to take a picture. “alright pose!” she exclaims. i was in the middle of Madi and Nick, all of us smiling for the camera. “beautiful!” ms. rose says as she snaps the picture.

Matt grabs a drink looking around. his eyes locks on you taking a sip from his drink. he watches as you smile for the picture. he smiles admiringly. he couldn’t help but stare at you.

as time passes by you decided to step off the dance floor. you were feeling a bit overwhelmed. especially because you couldn't shake off the thought of how stupid you look trying to dance. you grab a water as you step outside. as you're walking around for a bit you notice Matt sitting in the outside courtyard. you decided to go keep him company. you sit next to him as he looks at you. "what's on your mind?" you say looking up at the moonlit sky. "not much. what are you doing out here?" he asks still looking at you. "I was feeling overwhelmed. which I feel bad because I know Madi and Nick have been waiting for this night and I just left." you respond. “well how about you? you can't just think about what they want." Matt says trying to read your face. "well, I didn't want to come in the first place." you laugh softly, "I feel stupid on the dance floor." you finish speaking. “you weren’t bad.” he says, “but it did look a little forced.” he says causing you both to laugh.

still looking at the sky, Matt suddenly stands up, stepping in front of you, holding his hand out. you look up at him taken a back. "what are you doing?" you ask softly. "I want to make this experience memorable for you." he says with his heart beating fast. you gulp as you take his hand gently. you stand up holding his hand as he pulls you into a slow dance position. your arms wrapped around his neck, while his hands rest on your hips. "i-i don't know how to do this." you say nervously, avoiding eye contact. "don't worry. just follow my steps." he says reassuringly with a smile. you nod as you look at your guys' feet. you accidentally step on him. "oh- i'm sorry." you say biting your lip softly.

"maybe you should look up at me. it'll distract you from your feet." he whispers. you do as he says. you look up up at him already looking down at you. you look into his eyes having your throat swallow. your heart was pounding. "hi" he whispers. you felt the nerves go away from the sound of his voice. "hey" you whisper back. it was quiet for a bit as you both sway from the faded music coming from the gym. you notice him analyze your face as you do the same at him. you never really looked at Matt in the way you were feeling in this very moment. your chests nearly touching, his hands caressing your hips softly, and the eye contact. it was making your stomach flutter.

"you know how you said you don't feel like you belong here?" he whispers. you nod waiting for what he has to say next. "well i'm glad you're here." he says not breaking eye contact. the light from the moon shines on his face.

"really?" you whisper. "yes really y/n." he pulls away a bit, "I'm always happy when you're around. even if you don't notice." he says. you couldn't hide your smile. this whole time you felt like nobody's choice. when this whole time the person who wanted you the most was right in front of you. "can I kiss you?" he says softly.

"kiss me." you whisper back. he grabs you by your face gently, pulling you into a soft deep kiss. you felt yourself melt under his touch making you both lean back, having him dip you slightly, still attached by the lips. you couldn't believe this was happening.

when you both finally pull away, you both look at each other breathless, shortly laughing after. "let's head back inside?" you ask smiling. "one second" he answers putting his hand in his pocket, taking out your glasses. you look at them with confusion. he steps closer to you placing them on your face gently, taking a step back smiling. "perfect." he says. you laugh at his actions and grab his hand walking back inside to the loud music with your mind now replaying the perfect moment that just had happened outside.

you and Matt head over to the dance floor once the song “Kiss Me” starts playing hand in hand as you repeat what happened outside. “what a perfect song.” Matt says with a soft laugh. “well you have no choice but to listen to the song.” you say as the song says ‘so kiss me’. he smiles pulling you in closer kissing you with his soft lips.

“i thought you didn’t have a date?” you hear a familiar voice shout out. you both pull away as you look at your math teacher noticing a smile on her face with her arms crossed. “now she does!” Matt shouts back happily.

a/n: this took me a while to write but somehow seems so short lmao. I loved writing this! I hope you enjoyed reading. likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated! follow for more imagines!

#Spotify #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets imagines #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

259 notes · View notes

ineffable-suffering · 7 months

Text

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #story of job #job minisode #good omens analysis #aziraphale is a storyteller #but not a very accurate one #my own meta

931 notes · View notes

kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

Note

God the idea of Simon having a s/o that's like wayyy shorter than him something like 5'5 is doing things to me. This man is 6'4 something and he's HUGEEE AF, like i think it would be a turn on for him, having his babe so small underneath him. And i don't even need to get into how probably big he is down there too? The struggle to take him in everytime but the afterwards is a pure bliss. Ugh.

Like, i agree with what you said, this man is an epitome of masculinity. And the need and want to take care, love and protect his mate. <3 <3

Mmm. Mmmm.

Ok I'm just gonna leave this here.

Original photo: @ S0CIALHUNTER on Twitter

This is not a Drill

Word count: 2.2 k

Tags/warnings: SMUT 🔞, a dash of fluff, size kink (obviously), size difference, swearing, premature ejaculation, penetrative sex toy. F!Reader.

A/N: Gaahh. No poetry this time. Just pure filth. Enjoy 🍽

This might just be one of your better ideas.

You've done this in secret for two weeks now, hoping by the time he arrives, you'll be able to surprise him with how well you've trained yourself to receive him.

If you can take a large toy so well, day after day, it should help with taking him in more easily too. Right?

As in, take in the biggest dick you've ever had and, god willing, will ever have.

You're actually quite proud of yourself. Not only does this thing keep you juicy, but it also makes you thirst for him even more. The need to have something even bigger inside you, the knowledge that he can provide that bigger thing, makes your lips purse, makes your walls throb as you remind yourself that tomorrow, your man will finally come home.

…Except that the stealthy fucker has chosen to arrive a day early. You don't even hear him before he's at your bedroom door. Fuck his profession, fuck all that experience in sneaking around, even with all that mass…

He comes in just in time to see how the said dong comes out, slick with your wetness.

Oh shit–

"Well. What do we have here?"

He looks at the brutal object in your hand, then raises his eyes to you – flustered you, lying all naked and throbbing and flushed on the bed. He can barely hold back a smile, but it's his eyes that laugh with an amused gleam.

"Careful or you'll hurt yourself with that thing."

That's some cheese coming from someone who's even bigger than the crude thing in your hand…

"You said you'd come tomorrow," you mewl as your excuse. He cocks his head a little, raises an eyebrow.

"Disappointed?"

"No, of course not, but–"

"You want help with that?"

He gives a side eye to the toy still in your hand. You blink a few times, then reach to set it somewhere, anywhere – the bedside table has to do, but you're too clumsy, and the toy drops to the floor and rolls at his feet.

Jesus, could things get any more embarrassing?

He examines the sorry thing with a stare that says How pathetic. Because even if to you, it's gigantic, it's nothing compared to what he's got in those pants. And he knows it too.

"Now ain't this convenient. I can go straight in, right?"

"I– I'm not sure," you breathe with anticipation.

"Let's give it a try then."

He doesn't even wait for your admission, which would only be a blaring, blazing Yes please sir. He doesn't trouble himself with undressing, merely crawls to the bed and over you.

He pulls back only to get himself out of those jeans, and it always looks like he's drawing out a massive weapon. Even in his hands, which are fucking huge, the cock looks like an oversized beast. He's fully hard, too, probably started to gather blood there the minute he saw you on that bed, puny and shy and caught red-handed.

And he's as impatient as can be: finally, there's a chance he can drive that cock right in, that he doesn't have to warm you up for half an hour with mouth and fingers and hear you cry when it still takes a few tears and some swearing as he guides it inside.

But the toys are no help, it seems. The massive head of his cock disappears in you, alright… But that doesn't mean it feels safe or sound.

"Oh, no. No, no."

He halts, hovering over you with just the tip inside, pulsing wildly.

"No?"

Ugh, why did you have to pick the biggest colossus of a man to be your fuck buddy for the rest of your life?

"Just… slowly, ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah."

He swallows and gets back to it, more slowly this time, and the spread is delicious – but it's also blinding, and you always have to remind yourself to keep breathing.

You just need to relax; it can fit, it has been there dozens of times before…

"Fuck, you're– you're even tighter down here," he groans with a dry throat and a heavy accent that makes you instantly clench around him.

It appears that you have only managed to train your inner muscles with that ridiculous dildo.

So much for trying to coax yourself open with toys…

He feeds more of that thickness in, in, in, until his balls make contact; they press against your flesh while your pussy hugs him with a perfect O shape. You bite your lip and hold your breath, and you're not the only one gaping at the scene in mild shock and admiration.

"Look at that…"

He doesn't even bother to tone down the drunken arousal in his voice which always drops down a few notes when he's fucking you. But every now and then, it's tinged with concern. How the hell can you even take him fully in?

He glances your way with the smallest smile playing at the corner of his mouth, muscles taut with anticipation. The man simply can't wait to ruin you.

"You ready?"

No…??

You give him a frail little nod and some high-pitched, broken whimpers from your mouth.

"Uh-huh?"

He chuckles, then withdraws, slowly… But the next thrust is not that gentle, and your brows knit together in pleasure and pain. Well, it's not exactly pain, just… It's a little too much. If the angle was even slightly off, it would hurt. The wetness no doubt helps this business, but you still find your teeth sinking into your lower lip again – he starts to roll his hips, fuck you with experimental thrusts that, blessedly, don't plunge too deep.

You feel your inner walls both accommodate him and tighten around him; greedy, like it's no problem at all to have far too big a shaft stuffed down there. And not just crammed, but plowing: back and forth like you're a toy, too.

"What in the bloody hell have you been doing…"

He detects the tense muscles that pull him in every time he reaches the base. You're too small for him; that fact was established long ago. But added with the clenching and throbbing pulse of your cunt, a fervor that tries to suck him like he's a fat stick of candy cane makes his jaw gradually fall open. The man looks like he's going to pass out.

"Were you doing that shit for me?"

You smile and flutter your lashes innocently, all the while a giant is trying to work his giant cock in you.

"Yup. Welcome home, I guess?"

He looks at you, not with mirth, but with reproof. You're playing with fire, toying with a sharp blade, and teasing a man of his size might not be the best of your ideas.

But that's exactly what you are; a goddamn tease. You just can't help it. You know he gets an equal kick out of this setting: of you being so small. Anyone is small compared to him, but you're small compared to anyone. Next to him–not to talk under him–you look like a helpless doll.

And perhaps that's what this is all about: perhaps one of these days, you want him to wreck you.

Use you.

Even the very thought makes your cunt wrap around him again. Massive thighs at least twice the size of yours force your legs wide apart as he goes deeper – so deep that you can feel those balls again, hefty slaps against you as he tries to bury himself inside a place he's not meant to fit.

You always wonder what you look like under him, disappearing entirely under a dark shadow and hundreds of pounds of muscle. Spreading your thighs to offer too tight a slit to what's practically a monster. It must always be forced inside with sweat, patience, and needy grunts. How insane it must look for that thing to disappear inside you again and again until you're loaded with him… His cum never stays inside before you reach the shower, but the feel of it running down your thighs is absolutely glorious.

You notice he slows down the pace, which is odd. Normally, he's fucking you with abandon at this point.

"What's wrong?"

He huffs above you, chest swelling with shallow, alarmed breaths.

"Wrong? What's right, more like…"

He resumes with a thrust or two, looks down to where you are joined, and lets out an aggravated groan.

"I'm sorry, I can't…" He draws back as if to pull out completely, and you whine a complaint. A decision is made right away; he sinks back inside, fills you again and again, until…

"I think I'm gonna cum," he informs with apologetic alarm.

Oh.. Right.

… Already?

"It's ok… it's ok," you sweep your hands up his back, clutch him to make it known that he can collapse like a tower upon you, and you would only feel enthusiastic about getting buried under the rubble.

Use me.

Just fucking take me.

The look on his face is a rare glimpse behind the walls of a remorseless soldier: something primal but vulnerable, something fragile that only you are allowed to see.

"You can use me," you whisper, and it's like a spell that calls upon disaster.

"Ah, Christ…"

It takes only a split-second before he accepts your offer in full. You're planted in the mattress with starved thrusts, his thighs and chest spread you open until he's drilling you in an almost 90 degree angle. You're concerned for the bed's capacity to take this sort of plowing when you should perhaps worry more about your poor abused pussy.

It's such a heaven that your jaw falls open, too. You're dreamy and helpless under him while he's far from feeble. He looks like thunder above you, especially when you're looking at him like he's a demigod.

Like you're in love.

Which you are… And he knows it, even without that adoring bimbo stare you give him.

"Gonna–cum. Fuck, I'm gonna–"

You can almost see the sweat breaking, can feel the cock inside you jolting even when there's no room for it to do such a thing.

"Fuck–! "

It swells inside you as he cums with a painful groan. The orgasm seems to just last and last, and you realize with horror and thrill that the guy hasn't had a wank in days. Work has been a bitch, then, and you get to pay for it – a punishment you suffer with glee.

He gives you his all, squeezing you between arms that feel like a too tight cage, crushing you with a chest that feels like a compression machine burying you under an iron weight. Hard thighs press against yours until you're spread open for him to be buried in to the hilt.

And you know it gives him hell that he finished before you: it's on par with a failed mission, you suppose. Your mission, however, was a success. The body around and over you is coiled tight, but the tension gradually leaves. Obviously it makes him feel even more heavy.

He finally goes slack against you, just like you wished, and you almost squeal while getting imprisoned by a heap of heaving muscles. He's catching both breath and the remains of his pride as he lies there on top of you. The cock inside gives an occasional pulse, but you're forever hungry.

This man should be illegal…

You know you won't be left stranded for long, and seeing him so utterly done gives you enough satisfaction for now. You can wait for him to finish you in other ways.

"You're fucking dangerous," he huffs in your ear while trying not to crush you completely with his weight. He's gathering his strength in the solace of your neck, and you smile like you're on drugs.

"Does that mean you like me..?"

"What do you think," he snorts humorlessly on your skin, but you know he's more than happy. "'Welcome home'... Bloody hell, woman."

"I'm glad you're here," you laugh and place a hand on that broad back to caress him gently.

"Yeah. You can keep that toy."

"Perhaps I'll finish myself with it," you chirp to annoy him a bit more. Another triumph: you have to suppress a laugh upon hearing him groan.

"Now give me a bloody minute…"

Poor man. The thought that you feel just too fucking good to him, so good that it makes him lose control, gives you such a high that it's just sinful. The thought that a stoic goliath like him is rendered weak on top of a small, harmless woman is more intoxicating than a wine glass filled to the brim.

You pet the back of his neck and know he's probably tired from work and wants to sleep. You wouldn't object to falling asleep too while he's holding you.

"How about we give it another try after a nap?"

Your offer makes him rumble softly, contently; the man's ready to drop but also thoroughly enamored. Your heart skips a beat from pure happiness.

"Mm. You always have the best ideas."

#ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #mw2 smut

1K notes · View notes