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feral4daryl · 5 months

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need a part 2 of sweet scent with pervy daryl trying to explain it to you but you couldn't get it cuz you'd never done anything like it so he says he's gonna show you how good it feels and has to muffle your screams so no one in the house hears you as his cock practically splits your tiny cunt in half and he uses his thumb to rub ur clit to try and make u relax.........

I'm crazy but I'm free

masterlist and other infos || MDNI

sweet scent pt2.

perv!daryl x innocent!fem!reader

summary: after getting caught sniffing your panties by you, daryl persuades you into giving your precious virginity away to him while your dad's just in the next room.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl's is in late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18 [or older, it's up to you]), 18+ smut, praising, dubcon? (reader lacks enthusiastic consent at first and daryl has to do some convincing), panty gagging, p-in-v, blowjobs, cunnilingus, masturbation, manipulation, petnames, daddy kink, orgasm denial, mentions of dumbification, mentions of degradation.

word count: 6.2k

a/n: the following content contains some extreme fetishes and kinks that some readers might find disturbing, so if you're not comfortable with any of those, please do not proceed. click here to read part 1.

[...] His movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. He sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. He opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.

Then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...

You. Standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.

"U-uncle Daryl?"

---

Shit.

You definitely weren't what Daryl expected to see when he opened his eyes, the remains of his freshly busted nut all over his hand and his cock out, fully on display. For a good 5 seconds, he just freezed, completely unsure of what to do. But then, it hit him. He freaked out.

His eyes got as big as they possibly could and he immediately pulled his cock in his pants back again, clumsily trying to regain his composure, taking a little longer than usual due to his nervousness. Meanwhile, you just stood there with an unreadable expression. You didn't look exactly shocked, or angry, or anything like it. You looked strangely curious, with your head slightly tilted to the side.

Daryl shook his hand to get rid of some of his essence that was still sticking to it and then rubbed it on the side of his pants, on the hip area. Still not capable of looking you in the eyes, he quickly glanced at your frame and finally broke the awkward silence.

“Y/N? W-What'r'ya doin' here?” Stuttering was very unusual for Daryl, considering that although he was a man of very few words, he was always very direct and precise with them. Maybe playing it cool as if you hadn't just caught him in the act was the way out of that unpleasant situation.

“Well...” You let out a small chuckle and took a step closer to him. “This is my room.” His awkward smile immediately faded away.

“Oh, uh... I was jus’...” He looked around the room, searching for anything to use as an excuse for being there. But before he could start, you interrupted him.

“I didn't leave with the others, daddy told me to stay here to take care of you. He's in his room.” Your sweet girly voice had a way of calming Daryl, making him a bit more relaxed despite the current scenario and the shame he was feeling. But at the same time, just hearing you enunciate that one little word 'daddy' had him taking a deep breath to control his urges and not have another erection right there and then. You said that so innocently, because, well, it was in fact innocent since you referred to your actual father Hershel, but still, Daryl's twisted mind made it sound suggestive in his head.

“Take care'a me?” He pondered. Daryl wondered why your reaction was so calm considering what you had just witnessed. Maybe you didn't see much.

“You know, somebody's gotta change your bandage.” You smiled and pointed to his head that still had the bandage around it. “Actually, can you step to the side a bit? So I can...” You gestured to the dressing table behind him. He didn't say anything and just did as you said, moving to the side a little so you could approach the piece of furniture. In that moment, Daryl was the definition of what they call a standoffish.

“I was expecting to find you in your bed, resting. As you should, uncle Daryl.” Your voice carried a hint of playfulness along with a sincere worry. But the way you called him uncle for the second time that day gave him mixed sensations. He wasn't sure if he was aroused or weirded out by it. Or both.

You extended your hand, meaning to pull the drawer open to collect the items needed to change his bandage, which included the gauze, antiseptic wipes, medical tapes, sterile dressing and other kinds of medical stuff your dad had taught you how to handle, but you had to stop your hand midway when you noticed a white slimy thing dripping down the furnishing.

He followed your eyes, noticing how stared at the liquid. The farmer's sweet young daughter had just noticed the results of Daryl's arousal while it coated the dressing table. His mind started rushing with apprehension, you could tell your dad and everyone else how much of a perverted old man Daryl actually was, and he could be kicked out of the group, being left alone in the woods to fend for himself. It's not that he wasn't capable to make it on his own, but his family was important to him, he didn't wanna lose them over that type of thing that could change the way they looked at him forever.

“What's this?” You bended your knees a little, leaning forward and squinting your eyes to take a better look at the unknown substance. Now, you had completely forgotten the reason why you came into that room that was changing his bandage. Daryl lifted one of his eyebrows out of confusion. Did you really not know what that was? If that was the case, it kind of made sense.

Of course. Living on a farm far from the city, you had a close-knit relationship with your family in a way that they were pretty much all the people you would interact with. You had never had boyfriends, or kissed, or anything remotely romantic like that due to your dad's overprotectiveness, after all, you were his youngest daughter. All you knew about the existence of sexual stuff had been taught by him, when he mainly warned you about the terrible consequences of that type of action and that you had to stay innocent.

You didn't really know what he meant by all that, since he was very vague in his descriptions about sex. Hershel just used to say that there were certain areas on your body that you should never let a boy get near and you knew better than to disobey your father's orders, being aware that he always knew what was best for you. Not even your own hands had ever darted down your body to meet those spots more than once or twice before quickly pulling away. You wanted to remain innocent, whatever that meant.

But Daryl was the observant type, and he quickly caught up that you knew nothing about that type of thing. He knew you had always lived in that farm, away from the perverted hands of boys your age (or older like him) so connecting the dots wasn't tricky at all.

Oh, the things he could show you. That thought alone brought a somewhat creepy smirk to Daryl's face as he stared into the wall, contemplating the opportunity he had in hands to finally have his way with you. He knew he still had to be careful though.

“Daryl?” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. You turned your head to look at him before turning your entire body to face him. Your gaze was curious.

“This?” He motioned with his chin towards the dripping substance on the piece of furniture, looking out of place. “Ya don'... know wha' it is?” He double checked, wanting to make sure you were actually unfamiliar erotic nature of what you saw him doing.

“Well, I saw where it came from.” You revealed, not sounding accusing at all, just simply stating a fact.

“...How long 've ya been watchin' me?” He asked with an almost audible gulp. Though he was considerably excited about teaching you all that new stuff, he was still unsure if he should or not. It'd been so long since his last sexual interaction with someone else that he could barely remember it. And doing it with the daughter of the man that gave him a roof to put over his head in times like these? That was risky.

“A while.” You stated. Now, Daryl could notice how you started staring at his crotch area with a renewed sense of interest. That meant you had definitely seen his dick despite his efforts to hide it when he first got caught just moments ago. He wondered if you knew what it was or its purpose.

You stepped even closer to him and he couldn't help but step back slightly. “I've never seen somebody pee like that. Are you... Sick?” You raise an eyebrow. “The bathroom's just in the next room, you know...” Your worried tone was awfully adorable to Daryl. And well, he was indeed sick, but not in the way you meant it. Nonetheless, the amusing way you mistook his semen for urine made him share a light chuckle.

“Nah, tha's... Tha's not piss.” He bluntly let out. You walked across your room and over to your bed, sitting on its edge. Daryl followed you until he was standing in front of you. He crossed his arms.

“How so?” You tilted your head to the side with a sincere curiosity displayed on your face. You had seen the way he rubbed that one thing of his that you weren't sure how it worked until that slimy liquid started oozing out of it, deeply stimulating your curiosity.

“Ya sure ya wanna know?” His tone sounded more dark and his voice turned hoarser, however, that didn't seem to faze you. You nodded frantically. “Aigh', i'll show ya.” Once again, a smirk creeped onto his face. Your eyes were all sparkly as you attentively listened to him. “Sometimes people touch themselves ta feel good, ya know?” You shrugged, not really sure of what he was talking about.

As he spoke, he took light and slow steps towards you, like a predator preparing to hunt its prey, until his knees was almost touching yours. “Ya ever touched yerself, darlin'?” Despite the raspiness in his voice, it was now rather calm, with a surge of some sweetness to it.

“Like how?” You asked.

“Like here...” He extended his hand with a gentle movement, his finger tracing a path from the valley between your breasts down to your bellybutton. The slightly ticklish sensation made you flinch a little. Then, his finger continued making its way down to your lower belly, stopping inches above your clothed pussy. “'N here...”

Your breath hissed, and you started remembering how your dad told you those parts were sacred and shouldn't be touched by anyone, no matter who. The uncertainty was obvious in your face as you discreetly pushed his hand away. “Uncle Daryl...”

“Ya can call me jus' Daryl, sweetheart. 'M yer friend, remember?” He tried his best to sound convincing.

“Yes, Daryl...” You corrected yourself with an awkward chuckle. “I... I think I shouldn't.” You avert your gaze from his.

“Why not? Dontcha wanna know wha' it's like?” He leaned in a little closer, resting his hands on your thighs. You made a motion to try to push him away again, but he insisted on his touch. “Don' be scared, doll. 'M not gunna hurt ya. Quite the opposite.” He smirked while practically whispering the last part, making sure to sound extra coaxing.

You weren't really sure what you were afraid of, exactly. You just knew that you wanted to make your father happy and proud of you, since he'd always been so caring towards you and your family. In the end, you just wanted daddy's approval.

“I'm... I'm not sure. I don't know, it doesn't feel right.” You confessed, your voice filled with worry. Daryl knew how to be intimidating when he wanted to.

“'S okay, doll.” He spoke the way one would speak to a puppy. And giving you no time to protest, he used one of his hands to tug at the hem of your white tank top and pulled it up in one go, revealing your bare tits to him. He bit his lips, noticing you weren't wearing a bra. As quick as he did so, you felt so ashamed of your sudden nudity that you lifted your arms up to try to cover yourself up from his hungry eyes. “D-Daryl...”

“Shhhh...” He shushed you against your ear, making shivers run down your spine. Although you were uncertain, the way he spoke to you made certain parts of your body warm up, an unusual sensation for you. “Ya got such pretty tits... Ya shouldn't hide 'em away from me.” As he said that, he gently grabbed one of your breasts, giving it the slightest squeeze not to startle you. You couldn't help but let out a small squeak at the unfamiliar sensation. Weirdly enough, it felt good in a way you had never felt before.

“Ya like tha'?” He whispered. “It's nice, but... Daddy wouldn't like that. I just wanna make daddy happy.” You just wanted to be a good girl. Perhaps, you could find a different way of doing that.

“Yeah?” He muttered practically to himself as he got an idea. “Well, I can be yer daddy for today. Like tha', ya could make yer daddy happy in a way. Yer jus' gotta lemme lead ya, aigh'?” He didn't feel guilty in the slightest for making you engage in one of his twisted fetishes while you were barely aware of it.

“H-huh?" You were uncertain about the reason behind his suggestion.

“Ya can pretend 'm yer daddy.” He continued playing her mind. You weren't really sure if you liked the idea to depict him as your old man, but you tried to convince yourself to play along.

“But... What will he think of me when he finds out?” You fidgeted with your fingers. Meanwhile his grip on your breast continued to intimidate you.

“He don' have ta know. C'mon, dontcha wanna make daddy happy?” He conveyed in a hush against your ear, his thumb now grazing your sensitive nipple, making you feel that one funny sensation again. You couldn't help but lean into his touch.

You closed your eyes, darting your tongue out to lick your lips. The nervousness in you due to the newness of it all made your lips dry. The way Daryl was making you feel was curious, and you just wanted more of it. He took your silence as a confirmation.

“Good girl.” He cooed before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, very gently sucking on it. The feeling made you arch your back instantly.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

You just wanted to be a good girl. And if following Daryl's lead was a way to do it, you were all in for it. Your senses awakened as a cascade of unfamiliar yet electrifying sensations coursed through you, a dance of pleasure that tingled on your skin. In that moment, a subtle warmth enveloped you, as if you had discovered a secret realm of bliss previously unknown.

You reached for his head, the feeling of your delicate fingernails scratching against his scalp and pulling him closer sent tingling sensations all over his body. Instinctively, you slightly opened your legs at the pleasure and that drew a smirk onto Daryl's face.

“Eager fer daddy, huh?” The way he referred to himself like that made a faint blush spread across your cheeks, although you couldn't wrap your head around the reason why. It felt so wrong but so right at the same time.

“I need ya to trust me, 'kay?” He said as he pulled your shorts down and then tossed them aside, revealing your white cotton panties. Once again, you felt to urge to hide, not knowing how to deal with someone else seeing you naked for the first time. But before your legs could involuntarily close, his big hands groped your thighs, keeping them spread apart. “'S okay, sunshine.” He practically manhandled you, gently but firmly pushing your body downward so you rested you back on the mattress.

The new position made you feel strangely vulnerable, but it wasn't exactly a bad feeling. Your doe eyes had a mix of unsureness and curiosity as they meet his. Sensing the mixed sensations within you, Daryl leaned in to place a small peck on your plush lips, aiming to make you more comfortable. The feeling of his rough lips against your soft ones so suddenly almost made you flinch, but they felt rather inviting. As he pulled back, a confident smirk could be seen displayed on his face.

The archer's rugged fingers traveled their way down your body once again until they found the soft fabric of your panties, making your breath hiss. He brushed his index and middle fingers against your clothed pussy lips. Just with that, the dampness was so obvious that a small wet spot could be seen on the cotton fabric right where your slit would be. He dragged his fingers across it until they reached your clit.

“This lil spot righ' here...” He kept his hand there. “...is magical." For now, he just added a small pressure, testing the waters and watching close to your reaction, but that was enough to draw a whimper from you, the unknown sensation making you grasp his forearm. It indeed felt magical. You bit your lips and though you couldn't see it, Daryl shared a satisfied smile at the way he was able to get you all hot and bothered with just a simple touch.

Your legs squirmed a bit and he took that as a good sign, so he continued. Now, he started slowly rubbing your clit in circular motions over the fabric of your panties. Your back arched again, and you accidentally let out a dangerously loud moan.

“Nuh-uh.” He brought his other index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet. “Ya gotta be quiet, ya hear me?” His tone was mostly reprimanding, which strangely excited you. You nodded, enjoying the authority he guided you with through those new sensations. You had touched yourself there before, but never like that. The sensation always felt somewhat wrong, but with Daryl, it was totally different.

You were still kind of upset at yourself for disobeying your dad, but the way Daryl worked his fingers so skillfully had you seeing stars. You never thought you'd be handing out your innocence for some old redneck you met just a while ago, but there you were, completely given to him.

In the beginning, Daryl used to always kind of avoid you, despite your attempts of trying to get to know at least a little bit about the mysterious archer. He knew that deep down, those desires towards you were always there, since the very first time he saw you. At first, he tried to brush them off, but now, all he wanted was to be the one to feel your tight virgin cunt for the first time.

In a swift motion, his big hands tugged at the hem of your underwear. “Up.” He ordered, gesturing for you to lift your hips so he could pull them down. You didn't argue at all and promptly did as he said, reveling in the control he had over you. It was like he dominated your weak mind. “Good girl.” He cooed once again. Oh, if only he knew what that did to your little inexperienced pussy.

After tossing the piece of fabric aside, he reached for you knees, gently spreading them apart. The sight of your glistening bare cunt had his mind rushing through all the things he could do to it. He wondered if he would be able to hold himself back and be gentle or if he would end up losing control. After all, he hadn't done anything like that in such a long time that his whole body was aching for it. He stared at it in an almost scary way, you'd never seen his eyes so hungry.

If his cock hadn't awaken until that moment, now it was hard as a fucking rock. He had to really fight the urges to pull it out his pants and dick you down right there and then, but he knew he had to take it easy on you at least for now and get you nice and ready for him, even though you were already visibly dripping wet.

“Is this all fer me?” His tone was almost mocking. You weren't sure what he meant by that, not fully understanding the concept of natural lubrication, but you just nodded with your eyes closed. Something about being in that position felt so right, so freeing that it had you wondering why you never did that before, and why you were so afraid of trying it in the first place.

Daryl's hands sensually traced their way down your body, exploring your every contour until they reached the back of your thighs, pushing them back until your wet cunt was all over his face. He tried his best to control himself, but his own arousal was practically taking over his mind, so he buried his face on it like a starving man. As soon as his wet tongue made contact with your sensitive little clit and he lapped at your abundant juices, you immediately gasped, gaining a look of disapproval from Daryl.

“I warned ya.” That was all he mumbled before taking your panties he had just took off you and sticking them into your mouth almost aggressively. You could taste yourself on the white fabric, and although it felt strange, it turned you on even more. Now, your little sounds were muffled by the piece of clothing as he resumed eating you out, flicking his tongue on hour clit and burying it between your folds. You never thought a feeling like that could actually exist as you experienced that overwhelming rush of pleasure, a novel sensation coursing through you sending shivers down your spine as a delightful warmth enveloped your entire being. You tried your best to hold back your sounds since your dad was home and could hear you if you slipped, but Daryl's skilled tongue and lips made it an extremely difficult task, even with your panties stuck in your mouth.

He continued working your clit with his mouth, and maybe a little sooner than it should, a tingling sensation forming in your lower belly caught your attention. Daryl noticed the obvious shift in your demeanor and took the panties out of your mouth so you could speak. “D-daddy...” You experimented the honorific he had previously suggested. “I-I feel funny.” You whimpered, squirming a bit harder than before as it started feeling as if you were gonna burst at any moment. Daryl smirked against your skin and gave your pussy a last peck before pulling away, making you whine in disapproval. It had only been seconds but you immediately missed the sensation. You craved it.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He said. Not yet what, you wondered. But you still wanted to be good for him, so you nodded as the good girl you were. You couldn't think of anything you wouldn't do for him in that moment, considering how desperate you were to feel that pleasure again.

Your curious eyes followed his hands as they reached to unbuckled his own belt, setting it aside. He undid his pants and pulled them down just enough to reveal his boxer briefs to you. There. There was the place where you saw that sticky white thing shooting out from. Now, the excitement in you was unbearable as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his movements closely. Your eyes visibly lighted up and that didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

“Yer gunna love this, lil' girl.” He bit his lips. Something was very obviously bulging in his boxers, which you found odd since it didn't seem to look so obvious when it was in his pants even though now it looked so big. Either way, you were completely drawn to it. You glued your eyes to his crotch while he pulled his underwear down.

You had heard about it, but you had never actually seen one of those before. In the aftermath of the apocalypse, his pubic hair had grown wild and untamed, a reflection of the makeshift survival and the absence of the once routine grooming practices. Not that he used to care a lot about that kind of thing before the outbreak. In a way, you thought it looked charming, suiting his rugged looks and personality.

You could feel your mouth starting to water at the sight of his cock standing tall and proud in front of you. Since the archer had touched his mouth to your cunt, you wondered if you could do the same to him in that same area on his body. As if he could smell your thoughts, he brought a hand to your head, gently pulling you closer to his crotch while he held it by the base.

“Ya wanna have a taste?” He slyly suggested and chuckled at your frantic nodding. Leaning closer to it, you felt the musky and raw scent that emanated from it, which made you even more drawn to the possibilities that ran through your mind. But at the same time, you didn't know what to do or how to handle it.

Bringing his hand to his mouth, he collected some saliva from it and rubbed the wetness on the tip of his cock to lubricate it. “Gimme yer hand.” He reached out his hand, and instantly you complied, allowing him to direct it towards his cock. He enveloped your hand around it, keeping his atop yours, slowly starting to move it up and down. It felt warm and hard against your soft fingers, and the way he threw his head back and quietly groaned made your stomach churn with butterflies. “Fuck baby, tha' feels good.” He had to whisper due to the dangerous presence of your dad in the house threatening to put your little playtime to an end.

You smiled proudly at yourself. You liked the way he sounded and you wished to draw more of those grunts from his lips. And Daryl, being just as eager as you, removed your hand from his length, holding it by the base. His other hand found its way to the back of your head, his touch almost feeling impatient as he pulled you closer to his cock. “Open yer mouth.” He didn't have to tell you twice. Therefore, he guided his swollen tip to your awaiting tongue, smearing his salty pre-cum all over it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to hold back any compromising sounds.

Your lips instinctively closed around his tip, trying to mimic the way he sucked on your clit, aiming to make him feel as good as he previously did to you. The act not only gave him pleasure, but it also brought you a deep sense of satisfaction, making you hum against his sensitive skin. The vibrations from your vocal chords sent a chill through his body and he couldn't hold back this time, the warm sensation of your mouth being so tempting and promising that he pushed his hips forward a bit too much, causing it to hit the back of your throat and you to gag on it.

He immediately retracted his body, removing his cock from the velvety confines of your mouth. Your eyes got a little watery but you smiled either way. “Sorry, princess.” He said with a hint of awkwardness in his voice.

“It's fine, I liked it.” You confess, looking up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stood in front of you. Your innocent expression contrasting with the dirty nature of your encounter made him impossibly hornier, and he didn't feel like waiting any longer. “Fuck” He almost whined. Eagerness to feel you wrapping around him filled his body, so he grabbed you by the arms, not too rough so he wouldn't hurt you, and put on your feet against the pink wall of your room.

He brought a hand to your head, pressing it against the wall. You gasped a little at his roughness but soon you felt him brushing the tip of his cock on your slicky slit and clit. “'S gunna feel good, I promise.” He mumbled against your ear, making your body hair stand on end. The sensation had you biting your lips to try and not make any sounds, but your efforts were proven useless as you felt the pressure of his tip carefully going in your cunt, causing a burning sensation and you accidentally let out a loud cry.

Daryl's hand went immediately to your mouth, forcefully pressing his palm against your lips to muffle your sounds, your dad shouldn't hear Daryl using his sweet daughter in his own home after all. “Shhh, shhh.” He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head for a moment. You wrapped around him so tight even though he only had his tip in yet that he couldn't restrain himself from pushing his hips forward a little more, intensifying the burning sensation while he stretched your virgin cunt out.

“'S okay, ya can take it.” In that moment, you were confused at why he was making you feel so good just a moment ago, and now he's ripping your little pussy apart. But even though it hurt, it was somewhat pleasant to feel so full in such a new way, so you stuck your ass towards him, inviting him in. While still keeping his hand pressed on your mouth, he brought his other one to your hips, gripping them a little too tight.

Without warnings, he buried his entire length in you in one swift motion, filling you up to the brim and worsening the burning to a whole new level. The only thing that kept you from letting out a scream at the sudden invasion was his hand muffling your pathetic sounds and the fact that you'd be in deep trouble if your dad found out about that, but even so, Daryl couldn't help but quietly grunt at the intense sensation. He didn't know he missed fucking a warm cunt so badly until he was completely inhumed inside you. “Good girl. Yer being so good fer daddy.” He praised you. His words had an immediate effect on you, making your pussy even wetter, if that was even possible.

You didn't even care if it hurt or not anymore, so you just stood there, caught in the paradox of sensation — a mix of pain and pleasure etched across your face. The twinge felt like a sweet ache, and yet, an irresistible allure pulled her deeper into the experience, as if the discomfort held a hidden charm that she couldn't resist exploring.

Despite the pain, you found herself oddly drawn to the sensation, craving more as if the discomfort carried an inexplicable appeal that kept you coming back for another taste. So you slightly wiggled your ass against Daryl's body, moving his cock a little inside you. The feeling of being stretched out had you desperate for more.

Daryl's warm breath hit your ear as he let out a light-hearted laugh at your reaction, sending delicious goosebumps all over your body. His hips started going back and forth to meet yours in a sensual dance. He tried to be gentle at first, but your virgin cunt was just so wet and warm that he couldn't help it but succumb to his primal desires. “Jus' like tha', princess. Take this fat cock.” He whispered loud enough so only you could hear, making you weak in the knees.

His calloused hand let go of your hips to find your clit, starting to rub it with just the right pressure to make you squirm under his touch. The mixed sensations of intense pleasure and pain confusing your brain, making you melt like putty in his hands. Overwhelming waves of pleasure surged through you, leaving your head blissfully empty as if every thought had been swept away by the sheer intensity of the sensation, which was exactly what Daryl wanted, to turn you into a brainless little fucktoy for him.

If a few months ago somebody told you that you'd be letting some perverted older man take advantage of you in your own room, you would've laughed right in their face. Giving your innocence away to anybody used to feel like such a distant reality, and now there you were, pressed against the wall by Daryl's sweaty body while he mercilessly pounded your no longer virgin cunt, making you experience the most pleasurable pain you could ever feel.

As he continued bucking his hips like a desperate animal, you drooled against his hand, your brain now reduced to putty due to the overpowering sensation that dominated your every sense. “Nngh...” Your muffled moans stirred an even deeper desire within Daryl, turning him as primal as one could be. Your body language made it obvious that you were close to your orgasm, and this time, he didn't plan to deny you of it.

But you had never experienced something like that. You didn't know pleasure could get so extreme that could made you burst, so as the sensation built and grew stronger, it also made you unsure about where it was taking you, and you tried to fight the feeling. Daryl's skilled fingers working your clit only threw you even closer to the edge and you felt like your legs could fail at any moment.

Noticing the shift in your demeanor, he muttered against your ear. “Jus' let it go, baby. Trust me, don' hold it.” His tone was strangely sweet considering what you were both up to, but his encouraging words relaxed you a little, and as he intensified the rubbing on your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold it in not even if you wanted to, whatever it was.

Then, it hit you. An entirely unfamiliar and intense sensation washed over you, catching you off guard. It felt like uncharted emotional and physical territory, leaving you completely stunned, wide-eyed, and grappling with the unexpected intensity of the experience, something that almost made you mad at your dad from convincing you of staying away from it for so long.

Daryl had to intensify the pressure of his hand against your lips, but even so, he wasn't able to muffle your cries completely as your body convulsed and you were sure you lost consciousness for a few seconds. “Good girl, cum for me.” You didn't know what that word meant, but considering the situation, you understood that it probably had something to do with the new type of pleasure you just experienced.

As the orgasmic sensation slowly faded away, it was replaced with an even more overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. You squirmed even harder and you swore you could cry if he continued using your cunt like that, not giving you any breaks to catch your breath. You'd been turned into a whimpering and drooling mess, a total slut for his cock. You wanted him to have his way with you and you knew that if he wanted to, you'd let him fuck you all day without arguing.

The intense clenching of your tight pussy around his length initiated his own orgasm, and now it was his turn to experience the compelling feeling of being right on the edge of pleasure. “Fuck, turn 'round." He desperately voiced, but he didn't even waited for you before decisively grasping your shoulders, swiftly turning you to face him. As he did so, he removed his cock from inside you and stroked it hard and fast for a few seconds with just enough pressure to make himself burst.

Your mesmerized eyes watched as the pleasure took over his body. And now, it all made sense as he started shooting his load aiming right on your bare pussy, just as he was doing earlier today when you first caught him in your room. The warm sticky substance coated your cunt and it was so much that it felt like it would never end, leaving you astonished. You couldn't help but smile at the sight before you.

You two stared into each other's eyes while desperately trying to catch your breaths, sharing a small chuckle and satisfied smiles. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead and now, you knew who to come up to when you feel that funny feeling in your lower belly again. You knew Daryl had what it took to take care of your needs.

Without saying anything else, he pulled his briefs and pants back up again, adjusting his clothes. Then, he reached for his pocket, pulling out those panties he had stolen earlier and putting them on you again, leaving his load smeary and sticking to your skin. “Leave it there.” He hoarsely voiced, ordering you to walk around with his cum inside your clothes while no one else knew of it except the both of you.

“And these...” He walked over to your bed and bended his knees a little so he could reach for the white cotton panties he had tossed aside right before railing you and put them in his pocket.

“...'M gunna keep these fer later.”

a/n: omg guys the first part of sweet scent got over 1.1k notes and that's like??? insane??? tysm for all ur support, that's crazy. it was so much fun to write both parts and i'm so thankful if you read it this far!! i hope y'all have a great and happy holidays xx

taglist: @imagininghim , @murdadixon , @epilepsywarrior8787 , @darklydixon

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luveline · 9 months

Note

maybe hotch and reader are expecting a little bambino and nobody else knows until someone points out reader's belly? (i feel like it'd be absolutely hilarious if it was spencer that pointed it out 💀💀)

thank u for ur request! fem!pregnant!reader

"Can I ask you something?" Spencer asks.

You smile at him gently. "Always, Spence."

He seems cagey despite your assurance, lowering his voice and stepping closer to you. "Do you think maybe you need more fibre in your diet?"

You've been friends, best friends, with Spencer for so long you genuinely can't remember a time in your life where you didn't love him, but you have no idea what to say to that. It's the weirdest thing he's ever said unprompted. That's saying something.

"Is there… a reason that you're asking me?"

"There's three," he says. He waits for you to nod before laying them out. "For a few weeks now you've been more tired than usual. You're hungry all the time, and your stomach is bloated. I know that can feel painful, you could eat a handful of chia seeds in the morning and it would help."

You feel like someone's dropped an ice cube down the back of your t-shirt. Disarmed, you turn to Hotch where he's standing at the whiteboard, your hand moving automatically to your stomach. He gives you a similarly perturbed look. Derek's head shoots up at the list of symptoms, and Emily covers her mouth at your protective hand where it's poised. Fucking profilers.

"I've actually been taking vitamins," you say, wondering if you can still save it.

Emily is the first to break. "Wait, are you–?" She doesn't let herself finish.

Spencer shakes his head, brown curls bouncing at the base of his neck. "What?" he asks, his lips twisting into a trademark pout.

"Spence," you murmur, taking his wrists into your hands. "I want you to know that I was going to tell you first. This weekend, genuinely. I didn't think you'd notice so soon, is all."

He looks at Hotch, then you, then Hotch again. You press your lips together. "Please don't be upset," you say.

It clicks. There and then, you witness the cogs turning. "You're pregnant?" he asks breathlessly.

"On purpose," you joke.

Spencer tackles you. His arms fly around your waist, a tight, brotherly squeeze of a hug that makes you feel like you're gonna burst. "You're kidding!"

You're barraged by hugs. Emily, Derek, JJ. Rossi shakes Hotch's hand and pats his back in congratulations, which is so old-man style you find yourself laughing under JJ's arm. "How do you know it's his?" you ask Rossi.

Hotch laughs as Derek moves in for a similar bro-hug, nothing but love in his eyes as he smiles at you from over Derek's shoulder. You smile back, amazed and ecstatic at their happy reactions, until Spencer forces JJ aside with more gusto than he likely should to hug you again. You're blinded by his wild hair.

"I don't think you can fix this with a cup of chia seeds," Derek says.

"We couldn't be happier," Hotch assures him.

"On purpose, huh? When were you going to tell us?" Emily asks, her face a picture of surprise, a hint of disappointment in her thin brows. "I had no idea you wanted another one!"

"Jack wants a brother," Hotch says. "You know she can't say no to him. And he's perfect–"

"But there's nothing wrong with wanting more," Rossi finishes, his eyes gleaming.

"I thought it might be a little awkward to emphasise that we were trying," you say, patting Spencer's shoulders.

Emily winces. "Gotcha."

"Let's see the bump, mama," Derek says.

You step back from Spencer's side to turn, holding your shirt flat to the underside of your baby bump. It got bigger quicker than you thought it would, and now that it's been pointed out, it's obvious.

Derek shakes his head in disbelief. "That's–"

"Amazing," Hotch says. You beam at him.

There's a second round of hugs. Delight thrums in the air like a charge, laughter buoyant. Hotch parts the sea of excitement to kiss your cheek and hug your shoulder proudly, turning his head away from everyone. You know what he's thinking —this is going to be a really special time for you both. Your team will make sure of it.

"Um?" Penelope asks, elbowing open the door with a weighty laptop in her hands. "Did I miss something?"

Penelope, predictably, screams down the house at the presenting of your bump. Then she cries, and for a while you're all unashamedly teary-eyed.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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fairydvsts-blog · 9 months

Text

𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

obx masterlist

summary; your best friend, Rafe, finds out that you're dating someone else and he's not happy about it

warnings; some angst, jealous!Rafe, SMUT, praising and degrading, spanking, oral sex (fem receiving), hickeys, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up you all!)

a/n; english isn't my first language, so you might find some mistakes; I'm open to constructive criticism. Enjoy!

While you were sitting on your bed doing your homework, Rafe suddenly entered your room, looking at you with anger in his ocean blue eyes.

"When were you going to tell me?" he questioned, not even bothering to say hello.

He had showed up unannounced, clearly annoyed at you; but the thing was you had no idea why he was so mad, since you hadn't done anything that could have upset him.

Or so you thought.

"Tell you what, exactly?" you asked.

Your confusion only grew as seconds passed, luckily, Rafe broke the silence and said, "That you're dating someone."

His statement surprised you, you didn't expect him to figure it out that soon; only a week had gone by since you had started seeing the guy. But guess what, Rafe Cameron seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere.

"I don't know, Rafe," you answered him, then added, "I mean, I've barely know him for a few days." You saw his stoic features harden as you talked.

"So what?" he replicated. "You didn't think I would want to know?"

You rolled your eyes at his hypocrisy; he dated a new girl every week and he for sure didn't talk to you about any of them —not that you wanted to know anyways. Why should you tell him then?

"Know what? That I'm fucking someone? I don't recall you telling me such things" you declared as you frowned, starting to get mad at him.

You stood up, taking some steps in his direction, while his eyes widened at your words. He clearly wasn't expecting to hear that.

"You've fucked him?" the blonde snapped; his jaw was visiblely tense.

"Yes, it is wrong now?" you asked him with raised eyebrows at the same time that you crossed your arms.

Your breasts poked out from the neckline of your tank top, drawing Rafe's attention for an instant. Though he looked away quickly, his intense stare made you blush a little and you let go of you arms unconsciously.

"Yeah, it is," he stated, then he added, "you said it yourself, you don't even know him that well."

He was being so unfair to you that your blood started boiling. When he fucked girls at parties, he didn't care about not knowing them; he didn't even ask for their names.

"So what?" you mocked him. "Do you know every girl you've put your dick into?"

He gasped, not knowing how to argue with that; he knew that you had a point, but he wouldn't recognise it.

"It's different," he ended up saying.

"The hell is not," you refuted.

After a few seconds of silence, in which you gave each other a deathly stare, you sighed and decided to speak again, "Sometimes I don't get you, Rafe, I just don't."

Rafe's attitude pissed you off so much; one minute he was all over you, like you were the most precious treasure he had, and the other he was fucking other girl that wasn't you. And it enraged you because you liked him, a lot, even if you didn't want to admit it out loud.

"Bet he doesn't even fuck you properly." His sudden statement made you gasp because he was, in fact, correct.

You couldn't deny the guy sucked at sex, but he was popular and good-looking and just happened to be at that party where Rafe stood you up for some blonde chick; and given that you wanted him to feel as jealous as you felt when he fucked other girls, you couldn't prove him right.

So you held your head high and, then, you lied, "I think he does it quite well actually."

You had to look up at him after he took a step closer, fixating his fiery eyes in yours. Suddenly, you were so close together that you could feel his warm breathing in your skin.

"Bet I could fuck you so much better."

He left you open-mouthed and your heart started hammering in your chest as he spoke. When he finished talking, he licked his lips with a smirk and your eyes betrayed you, looking closely at his mouth.

On a normal basis, you would have been intimidated by him, but that day you were feeling bolder than ever, so you rose up on your toes to reach his ear and whispered, "Then fuckin' prove it."

He shortened the distance between the both of you, grabbing your chin between his fingers and connecting your lips with his; the action took you by surprise and your eyes widened for a moment. In just seconds, the kiss became so hungry and desperate that your breath hitched and your legs started feeling like jelly.

Your hands caressed his cheeks, feeling the stubble on his jaw, while you closed your eyes. As the kiss deepened, you felt his bigs hands grabbing your butt and then Rafe lift you up so that he could place you in top of your bed. You felt your notes getting crushed, so, without breaking the kiss, you fumbled on the mattress for the sheets to toss them to the ground.

After that, you took off his cap, throwing it aside, to tangle your fingers in his messy hair. You pulled his blonde locks to push him away in order to start undressing; your eyes didn't leave his as you grabbed the hem of your t-shirt and removed it. His eyes dropped from your eyes to your exposed breasts and his breathing became heavier.

He stood still for a few seconds, just staring at your body, before saying, "You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

He leaned over you to take one of your nipples between his lips, sucking at it like a man starved. You moaned at his action as your hands sneaked under his polo shirt to touch his soft skin; when he let go of your nipple with a loud pop, you decided to take it off.

As you put his shirt aside, he started to kiss and lick your neck, marking it. You were sure he'd leave love bites all over it and the thought of everyone seeing his marks on your body only made you wetter.

You had waited so long for that moment that it felt unreal.

"I want that fuckin' asshole to know who you really belong to, baby," he stated, gently bitting your collarbone.

His hand wandered over your left thigh, caressing your naked skin, until it reached your shorts. He looked at your face, asking for permission to undress you completely; you nodded to make him know that it was okay. Rafe smirked and, then, took off your shorts and underwear.

He didn't waste any time after that; he just buried his face between your legs. His action took you by surprise and you gasped for air while you grabbed at your bedsheets, moaning loudly when he sucked hungrily at your clit. Your back arched because of the pleasure his talented tongue was giving you, licking every sensitive part of your pussy from your entrance to your bundle of nerves.

Seconds later, you felt how Rafe placed his tongue right onto your clit again, licking it up and down at a tortuous pace. Your legs started shaking and you grabbed his hair to bring his head closer to you; he was almost suffocating in your pussy, but he couldn't think of a better way of dying. You felt a little bit ashamed when you started cumming after just a few minutes of stimulation, however, Rafe encouraged you to do so.

"That's it, baby, cum in my face like the little slut you are," he said, rubbing your clit with his thumb to help you ride your orgasm.

"Oh my god! Rafe!" you moaned, desperately grinding your pussy against his mouth.

The pleasure clouded all of your senses for what seemed minutes and when the feeling went away, you looked down to find his blue eyes staring at you, mesmerised.

"I love you," he admitted, climbing over you to kiss your lips hungrily but you couldn't return the kiss.

"What?" you asked, totally surprised by his confession.

"I love you, baby, do you love me?" he answered, caressing your cheek while he placed himself between your legs.

It took you a few seconds to react, but you finally said, "I love you, Rafe."

He smiled at you, giving you a short kiss before unbuttoning his short dress pants under your attentive gaze. You tried to help him undress but he didn't allow it, grabbing your hips to turn you around and place you over your stomach. After that, Rafe couldn't resist the urge to spank you and his action made you moan.

"Stay still, baby," he ordered while he finished undressing.

"Again," you demanded, ignoring his request.

You heard his laughter.

"So my little slut likes to be spanked... Interesting," he pointed out, positioning behind you and lifting your hips from the mattress.

Then, he slapped you again, harder that time, and you moaned, feeling your pussy getting wetter —if that was possible. You looked back, finding him in all his naked glory and your cheeks turned red at the sight.

He was gorgeous, every part of him.

"Please, Rafe," you begged, shaking your butt in need of some sort of friction.

"Fuck, baby, you have the prettiest cunt," he told you, rubbing the thick head of his cock over your clit and you squirmed in response, "I'm going to fucking destroy you, sweetheart."

He penetranted you in one single thrust, taking your breath away because of the sudden intrusion. He was big and it took you a few minutes to adjust to his size, but he didn't push your limits, thrusting into you slowly and carefully at first, which made it more pleasant for you.

When he felt that you were ready to take more, he started pounding into you faster; his dick filled you perfectly, it was like he was made to fuck you, and in no time you were a moaning mess under him. With each thrust, his pelvis hit your ass cheeks, pushing you hard against the mattress.

"I wish you could see yourself, baby," he panted, slapping your thigh while he screwed you hard, "You look like a fucking goddess."

The bedroom was too hot; his skin was covered in sweat and it felt sticky against yours. He leaned over you, reaching for your neck to cover it with wet kisses. At the same time, his right hand trailed toward your pussy, pressing and rubbing your clit with two fingers. You held onto his arm, digging your fingernails into his skin unintentionally due to the pleasure.

You bit your lower lip so hard that your drew blood. He noticed it, so he grabbed your jaw with his free hand to bring your mouth closer to his and licked your lip clean.

"I'm so close, Rafe," you announced, whimpering on his lips.

"I know, baby, I can feel your pretty pussy tightening around my cock," he moaned next to your ear, giving you goosebumps.

Hearing Rafe's moans was your new favourite thing in the world.

"My little slut is gonna cum all over my cock?" He asked, caressing your back until he reached your ass, spanking you again.

"Rafe, yes! I'm cumming!" you almost screamed in pleasure, trembling in his strong arms.

Your muscles became so thigh that your orgasm triggered his own.

"Fuck, baby, I'm cumming too," he warned, trying to pull out because he wasn't wearing a condom, but you stopped him from doing so.

You didn't want your orgasm ruined.

"Inside, please," you begged.

Rafe pounded into you one last time before he came with a loud moan, filling you with his cum. He kept thrusting into you for a few seconds to ride his climax and then he collapsed over you on the mattress. It took him a moment to move to the side to cuddle with you; both of you were gasping for breath.

"Who fucks you better then?"

You couldn't help but smile and answered, "You do, Rafe."

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe x oc #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe smut #obx #obx smut #obx fanfiction #obx fic #outer banks x reader #outer banks #outer banks smut

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papercorgiworld · 4 months

Text

Boyfriend material: Mattheo Riddle

Mattheo tries to convince you he’s boyfriend material, but almost screws it up. Smut, so beware!

This part two. Read part one here.

Warning: piv, no protection, oral fem receiving.

Feedback is always very, very welcome.

Somewhat after midnight, you're dancing with Luna and a definitely drunk Hermoine. Pansy lets herself fall next to Mattheo who had been sitting on a couch with a drink in his hand, talking with a random piss drunk Ravenclaw. “Don’t party too hard, Matty.” Pansy can’t hide her pleased smile. Mattheo clenches his jaw, but ignores her. “You know, with an attitude like that people will start thinking something is bothering you.” The filthy grin on Pansy’s face never drops. Matheo leans back and finally looks at Pansy. “I’m not playing.” He simply states. Pansy lets out a laugh. “I know, I figured that much. Actually for the better. You couldn’t have won.” He raises an eyebrow and she elaborates. “(Y/n) is looking for a boyfriend and she doesn’t think your boyfriend material.” Mattheo’s eyes go soft as he stares at you. “I’m not boyfriend material, hm?” His question comes out so vulnerable even Pansy softens up a bit. “She wants hot sex, but also late night cuddles. She wants to lay her head on someone's shoulder and hold hands, intertwine fingers. She wants stolen kisses in the hallway between classes. Study sessions with messy make outs. Casual evenings, reading while leaning against one another. Nothing you would ever wanna settle for, right?”

You’re still dancing when an arm snakes around your waist. You turn your head, your nose almost brushes Mattheo’s. He gently pushes you against him and whispers: “Come with me.”. But he doesn’t wait for your answer. Pushing you in the direction of the exit. You make your way to the hallway, when someone tries to talk to you he grabs your wrist and drags you a little further to an empty hallway. “What’s up with you?” You ask, getting frustrated and you push him away. He licks his lips and a cocky grin spreads on his face. You're immediately intimidated and back up against a wall as he comes closer. He rests his hand against the wall and his other hand lingers near your side, but he doesn’t touch you. “Apparently you don’t think I’m boyfriend material.” He whispers in your ear. You swallow at the twisted tone in his voice. You want to protest but your mind can only think of his piercing eyes looking at you longingly. “I would like to prove you wrong.”

His face inches towards you, his perfect curly hair falls a bit forward, he’s too close for you to function properly. It really doesn’t matter if he really is boyfriend material or not. You want him and your body is screaming for any kind of touch, resulting in a soft whimpering noise rolling over your lips. For a second he smirks, enjoying what he’s already doing to you without touching you, but then again he really wants you too so his lips crash into yours. One hand reaches for your face, holding you as he kisses you passionately with a hint of hunger. His other hand pushes the small of your back, keeping you close. Your hand rests on his chest, tugging the material of his shirt urging him for more, while simultaneously intertwining your fingers in his hair, claiming as much of him as you can. His lips let go of yours, giving you a moment to breathe, but he doesn’t seem to need a break and continues kissing and sucking the flesh of your neck. When he finds your soft spot, you arch your back, unintentionally winding him up even more, and this does force him to take a moment to catch his breath. He scans over your body, pushed against his. A soft growl escapes him. He curses himself for having so little control over his hunger for you.

Mattheo’s attitude shifts and he lets out a sheepish laugh. “As part of proving to you that I’m boyfriend material, I say we take it slow.” With that he takes a step back. As his warmth leaves you, realization washes over you. What? Take it slow? Just my luck. I get Mattheo on his one day of good behavior. “What? Are you playing a game?” You blur out, “I’m going to find Enzo, at least he knows what girl needs from her boyfriend.” Mattheo’s eyes widen. You can only take one step before Mattheo is already in your way. With a confused and slightly angry expression he desperately scans your face. Woman, what do you want? I really am no boyfriend material. I have no clue what she wants. Fuck. How did I already screw this up? His shoulders drop and his face becomes so soft, it’s then that you realize he was serious about this. You smile lovingly and take a step closer. You wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t want to take it slow.” Mattheo’s signature smile returns to his face.

The walk to his dorm was filled with sloppy kisses and him squeezing your ass signaling for you to hurry up. Once in his room, he pulls his shirt over his head. Exposing a muscular Mattheo with messy hair that gently leans against the door as he locks it. He looks at you as you ever so slowly unbutton your oversized shirt, gently exposing a little more skin to Mattheo. His breath gets a little louder with each button and his hardening member is starting to twitch. When your shirt falls to the floor and you stand there in shorts and bra only, he approaches you almost touching you but for the moment only watching you. “So, if I get this boyfriend thing right, I can have you in this room, again, tomorrow?” You nod and you close the last bit of space between you two by hooking a finger behind the outline of his pants, pulling him into you. His lips leave sloppy kisses before lustfully locking with your lips, all the while you make work of undoing his pants. Your hand strokes over the bulge held by his boxers. “Fuck.” He growls, he makes quick work of your bra and pushes you onto his bed.

As he crawls over you he shamelessly stares at your breasts. “My oh my.” Is all he says before having his way with your boobs. Kneading the left one, while sucking and licking the nipple of your right breast. It’s like he’s playing an instrument, everything he does has you making noises that sound like music to his ears. He can feel himself get harder with every second. He wishes he could play with you all night, but he honestly doesn’t have the self control for it. “Matty, please.” You whine. Your legs shift, as your pussy is in desperate need of attention. He slowly kisses his way down to your shorts. When you get impatient with his teasingly slow way of taking off your shorts and panties, you slip your own hand down to your folds. “Don’t think so, love.” Mattheo says and snatches your hand to hold it in his. He crawls over to you, his lips landing on yours as his fingers intertwined with yours, pushing your hand into the sheets. “Now let me do the work.”

“You tease too much.” You say with a pout on your face. “Is that so?” His eyes never leave yours as he plays with your nipple, leaving your pussy longing. “Matty!” You whine and your only free hand thugs at his biceps signaling that he needs to move. He loves how needy you are and how whiny you get. He smirks and comes down claiming another kiss from your lips. This time his hand moves down and without teasing or warning he pushes in a finger, immediately circling your clit. Your buck your hips, fucking his finger. “Needy are we?” Mattheo taunts. “Says the guy who’s staining his boxers.” You snap back, pleased to know he is as desperate for you as you are for him. But he really is desperate, desperate to make you come so he can then mercilessly and selfishly fuck you. You squeeze your legs around his hand, finger still circling your throbbing clit, signaling how close you are. “Come on, love, open your legs for me, let me take care of you.”

The moment you open your legs, his mouth is on your folds and his tongue guides you to your release. One hand on your boob and the other holding your leg, making sure he has all the access he needs. His name leaves your mouth over and over again between moans and whines as your orgasm washes over you. You softly pull on his hair as you need him to stop pleasuring you, feeling like you’re going to explode because of the overstimulation. It’s your squirming and begging that almost push him over the edge. So when he pulls away, he keeps himself from staring at the wonderful view you are, making quick work of his last piece of clothing. You're still coming down from your high as you get to watch him pump himself a few times. “Oh, Merlin.” You blur, slightly worried about your overstimulated pussy. “Don’t worry, love, I’ll be gentle. So, may I?” He asks so politely how can I say no. You nod.

He swallows and licks his lips. “Would you mind rolling over?” A moan slips your mouth at his request, your pussy going desperate for him again. You shift your position, arching your back and giving him a perfect view of what he wanted. “Fuck. I need you.” He sighs admiring you. He slips his thick hard cock inside of your soaking wet pussy and gives you a moment to adjust, while gently stretches your walls. “You’re perfect.” Is all he manages to say before he starts thrusting into you with a steady pace. Your hands instinctively grab a hold of the sheets, enjoying how he has his way with you, enjoying how his hands again make their way to your boobs playing with your nipples and enjoying how he moans your name softly. The sounds of your bodies clashing over and over again fill the room. He quickly figures out how he needs to take you to have you begging. When you start whimpering his name, he pulls out and flips you over and fills you with his cock again. “I’m so close. I need to see your pretty face.” He explains. Your mouth hangs open as no sounds come out. He holds your face in his hand as he watches you with lustfull eyes while rutting into you hitting your sensitive spot harder each time. A pleading moan leaves your lips and you pull Mattheo close, hiding in the crook of his neck, as your walls clench around him. Letting your second orgasm wash over you. After that it only takes a few hard thrusts to have you now both reaching your high.

He lets his cock rest inside you for a few seconds loving the idea of being inside of you, of having you. Mattheo’s possessive side definitely shows as he holds you the entire night, shamelessly admiring your body, but also treating you like a goddess.

And as requested a tag for @crossedskulls 😊

#mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin #papercorgiworldwritings

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makeyoumine69 · 2 months

Text

Memory Reboot

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: You work at P&P, and one day you come into Bateman's office and witness his breakdown. Your attempts to comfort him only increase his obsession with you, and without realizing it, you push this man to his limits. The outburst that finds you both in a club called the Tunnel will change your lives forever and irrevocably.

CONTAINS: Smut, angst, obsessive behavior, desperate-touch-starved Patrick, masturbating, oral sex (reader receiving), aggressive foreplay, dirty talk, body worship, teasing, biting, drug usage, pet names.

WORDS: 3k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent - Memory Reboot

A/N: This is for my dear @iron-flavored-lipgloss! It was such a pleasure for me to write this for you! Enjoy!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST] 🪓 [EDIT]

gif by @tvandfilm

Patrick Bateman. What kind of a mess was this man? Chaotic, impulsive, pathetic? Or all of the above?

Smirking, you went to his office to deliver some documents you needed him to sign, but when you got there, you noticed that Jean — his lovely blonde assistant — was absent and the door to his office was suspiciously half open. It was strange, to say the least, but you just shrugged your shoulders and stood there for a while when you heard a loud thud coming through the door — the sound almost made you jump in surprise. 'What the hell?' You wondered as you approached the door, turning around to see if Jean was coming, but there was no sign of her. With measured steps you got closer to the hole in the open door and just peeked in out of curiosity, but the scene you saw was not what you expected — Bateman, all flushed and covered in sweat, was storming around his office, his hands desperately fumbling with his tie as if it was choking him.

Your reaction was quick, and you didn't even notice as you opened the door and stepped inside. "Bateman? Are you okay?"

The man stopped shaking the moment he heard your voice and leaned down on his desk. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to get your signature on some of my docs when I heard you crying,” you grinned, watching his face go pale. "What's wrong, Bateman? Did you miss your facial?" The way he balled his hands made you laugh. "But really, did something happen?"

"Yes," Patrick replied, looking at you and running his hand through his disheveled hair. "I mean...no...nothing happened…" You saw his lips tremble a little each time he spoke. "Gimme the docs."

Frowning in confusion, you pulled out a napkin and handed it to him instead, meeting his scornful gaze. "You're sweating…” You placed the white piece of cloth on his desk, only now noticing a small jar that you were sure was full of pills. "Maybe I should ask Jean to bring you some coffee? You look really sick..."

"No!" Bateman suddenly blurted out, pointing his finger at you. "I asked Jean to take the day off..."

"Hey, hey, relax," you raised your hands defensively. "Relax, I was just trying to help."

Slowly, you placed the folder of documents on his wooden desk, which he grabbed almost immediately, and your hands touched for a brief moment, and Bateman didn't flinch, and neither did you.

"Take a seat." Patrick muttered incoherently.

"What?"

"Sit," he repeated irritably. "And wait."

His tumultuous behavior actually frightened you, but you did as he said and sat down in the chair opposite him. ‘My God, he really is mental, Tim was right.’

"What are these pills? Some vitamins?" You tried to keep the conversation alive, not even knowing why, as you watched his long, thin fingers floating across the pages.

Your question made him stop and look up at you. "That's none of your business, (y/n). I asked you to sit and wait, not ask me stupid questions."

‘Why does he look so cute when he's so angry?’ The thought brought a smile to your face, but then you zipped up your mouth theatrically and Bateman's office went silent for a while. And you used it to admire his perfect jawline, even though his brown hair was messy now, it looked so inviting to touch anyway.

"Is that all?" Bateman asked suddenly, arching his eyebrows and interrupting your train of thought.

"Uh, what?"

A prominent line appeared on Patrick's forehead — a testament to his annoyance. "Are you deaf or something?"

"Lemme see them," you pointed at the documents. "I want to make sure you put your cute sign on every page." Your playful tone made the line between Patrick's eyebrows even more noticeable. "I don't want to come back here."

Bateman didn't even try to jab back, his face still pale and sweaty, his eyes nothing but dark voids — oh, how fucking empty they were. Sighing heavily, Patrick raised his gaze when he heard the chair creak as you got up and walked around his desk. The sudden cut in the distance between the two of you was something Patrick didn't seem to be ready for, as his hands nervously gripped the armrests, but you pretended not to notice.

"We all feel down sometimes," you murmured over his ear, literally sensing the tension radiating from his body. "And that's okay." Placing your hand on his broad shoulder, you leaned down to look at the documents, surreptitiously inhaling the scent of his perfume mixed with his sweat. ‘Fuck, what am I doing?’

"I didn't know you had a part-time job as a therapist," he grumbled, examining your palm, wondering if he was going to kill you here and now, or keep you in here forever. "Listen, I have a reservation at Barcadia..."

"Mmm, Barcadia? Really?"

Bateman nodded and finally removed your hand. "Yes, I'm having lunch with Coutrney."

"I wonder what Luis thinks of these lunches with his fiancé." You picked up the folder and stepped back from his armchair. "You don't feel guilty about sleeping with Coutrney behind his back, do you?"

Gritting his perfectly white teeth, the brown-haired man abruptly got up from his desk and stormed toward you, surely intending to yell at you or say something rude, but the moment he stopped directly across from you and your eyes met, Bateman's expression suddenly became lost and confused. "Just stop," he finally managed to mutter. "Stop poking around in my fucking head…" As you noticed his pupils widening, things were no longer funny to you. "Understand?"

‘Well, maybe turning it into a joke is not a bad plan,’ you hummed and nodded. "Sure, Bateman," you sneered a little nervously. "I'm just reading this book Timothy gave me," you slowly turned and walked to the door. "The book about Human Psychology." That was surely a joke, but judging by the serious look Patrick gave you, he didn't seem to get it.

"Tim gave you... a book?" He repeated, frowning in confusion and disbelief.

When you opened the door, you paused for a second, wanting to say something smart at the end. "Oh yeah. Why don't you ask him about it? Maybe he can recommend some books about... human relationships or something." And with that, you smiled in satisfaction at seeing Bateman's face quiver with anger before you left his office, leaving him with a raging tempest in his chest.

Later that day, Patrick couldn't sleep because his mind was so full of different thoughts, but the only thing they had in common was that they were all connected to you. You, you, you. The sound of running water echoed off the marble walls of his lavish bathroom as Bateman stood in the shower, enjoying the way the strong streams of cold water hit his back. Huffing, Patrick desperately scrubbed his skin as if it would help him get rid of the thoughts of you that haunted him the day he first met you — you were so cheeky, so sweet, everyone loved you and wanted to hang out with you. How fucking cute. Patrick groaned as he felt a throb at the base of his hard cock, God, he felt like it was hard all the time and no sex could help him with that because all those people, they weren't you.

"Argh, fuck," he groaned as he finally allowed himself to touch his twitching dick and give it a few strokes.

"F-fuck..." Bateman pumped his length rhythmically, recoiling at the memories of today, the way you put your hand on his shoulder, the warmth of your breath on the back of his neck. And what would it feel like if you had placed your hand on his chest, or run it over his abdomen and then down?

"Uh, a-ahhh," the man moaned louder, shaking uncontrollably from the orgasm building at the base of his spine. "(Y/n), your hands feel so good on me, oh-shit…" Patrick had to lean against the shower wall as his legs buckled from the intense waves of ecstasy as he cummed with your name on his trembling lips, the water still running down his sculpted body, washing his cum off, but he was still so hard.

"Reading books on psychology," Bateman chuckled, tilting his head. "What an idiot." His nervous giggle bounced across the shower, but soon the laughter turned to a low wail. "Pathetic…”

Time flowed like sand through your fingers, and you couldn't even remember how many days had passed since your visit to Bateman's office, but since then something had changed between the two of you, but you both couldn't understand what exactly had changed, or maybe you didn't want to try to understand. To be fair, it was so fucking annoying that when you found out that Tim, David, Craig and Patrick were going to the Tunnel, you saw it as your chance to dot the T's, no matter how the evening would end.

When you arrived at the club, it was so crowded that it took you a while to find the group of yuppies sitting on the plush couches next to the dance floor, jamming to the music and drinking their cocktails.

As you approached, Craig was the first to spot you. "Woah, woah, look who it is!" His cheeky remark caused everyone to look at you, including Bateman, whose teeth were visibly clenched around his cigar at that moment.

"Hey, guys! Enjoying the music I see?" You smiled, fixing your hair briefly from the sudden rush of panic. ‘Damn it, stay calm! Why am I so nervous?’

Timothy winked at you and raised his glass. "Did you come alone or..." he stopped abruptly when he noticed someone behind your back. "Hey, is that Paul Allen?"

‘Shit, shit, shit. That was so much easier in my head than it is in reality.’ You chewed on your cheek, and while the men were guessing whether they really saw Paul Allen or not, a sudden idea came to your mind, but you hated it before you even started to bring it to life. "Do you have a gram?" You asked without thinking, hoping they would say no.

"I do," Bateman's voice came out of nowhere and you almost screamed in your head, but you had to keep your composure. "But you will owe me." As he said this, you came closer to where he was sitting with a playful smile on your face and took a seat next to him. "Wait, we are not going to do coke here."

"Hey, why not?" David chuckled and took out his business card holder. "What's wrong with it?

"Oh God, look at that cheeky bastard," Craig pressed a palm to his face. "Van Patten decided to be a bad boy today."

The men laughed and high-fived each other before Bateman whispered in your ear, making you almost jump. "Follow me." Those two simple words made you obey like you were under a spell.

As the two of you made your way to the bathroom where people in the Tunnel usually did coke, your heart pounded to the heavy beat of the music, or even faster. Patrick went first, his elegant silhouette like a shining star in the midnight sky — so eye-catching and mesmerizing that it wasn't surprising that a lot of people turned around to look at him, but you didn't care as soon you would be alone with him. ‘Just you and me, Bateman.’

The bathroom was surprisingly empty today. The last time you were there, you had to wait almost half an hour to get into the free stall, but now luck seemed to be on your side. As you stepped into one, Patrick pulled out his business card holder and rolled the $100 bill; you did the same, watching as Bateman made lines of coke with his platinum AmEx card.

"I have to say, you look much better." You commented briefly.

The man was about to lean over to snort the white powder, but your words made him freeze. "Huh," he chuckled abruptly and brushed away a stray lock of hair. "I was just reading some books about... relationships," Patrick grimaced, drawing out the last word with a cocky grin. "It changed my mind." Before you could say anything, Patrick was snorting the coke, holding the rolled-up bill to his nostril while holding another down with his thumb.

"Very funny," you mumbled, tapping the rolled note against the inside of your palm. "Where was your wit when I walked into your office a week ago?"

Bateman coughed quietly and threw his head back for a moment to clean his nose. "What does this have to do with anything?"

Rolling your eyes, you moved closer to his business card holder to inhale the white line of powder that had been left there, your mood was already off, and at some point you even began to regret coming to Tunnel tonight. Though it wasn't your first time doing coke, you felt so dizzy as the drug began to intoxicate your system that you almost fell to the floor if you hadn't bumped into Bateman's chest, leaving a white stain on the lapel of his Valentino suit.

"Hey! What the fuck!" Patrick blurted out, ready to push you off, but the way you grabbed his shoulders stirred something strange inside him, something he was fighting all the time. "Have you ever done coke?"

You coughed several times, blinked nervously, and only then did you let him go. "Sorry..." you gasped and leaned against the wall of the stall behind your back. "It's been a while."

"You stained my jacket."

"God! I'm sorry, okay?"

"No," Bateman replied, brushing off. "Not okay."

"What do you mean?" You asked confusedly, batting your eyelashes and breathing heavily.

Patrick dropped his head for a second before looking at you again, your faces dangerously close. "I'm not okay."

You licked your lips nervously. "Why?"

Instead of saying anything, the man pulled you against his massive frame, giving you no time to react as his hot mouth covered yours; it was difficult to call it a kiss, it was more like the act of claiming — his strong arms trapping you between the wall and his muscular body while yours hovered motionlessly like whips. When Bateman released you, he tugged at your lower lip and licked it with a wet, obscene sound. "Because...because of this."

Panting, you stood in shock for a moment before nodding and touching your wet lips. "Yes," you put both hands on his chest, exploring it slowly but boldly, causing him to close his eyes for a second. "I don't think I'm okay either." After whispering it in his ear, you slid your tongue down his bare neck, right over the mole, and when you heard him grunting, you lowered your hand to his belt, playing teasingly with the buckle.

"Lower," Bateman husked, and when you didn't listen, he grabbed your hand and lowered it himself — the outline of his fully erected cock eliciting a muffled moan to break out of your cramped throat. "Ahhh-fuck."

"God, you're so needy," you murmured against his neck, busy undoing his belt. "So touchy."

It only took a few seconds for you to undo his pants and let his taut dick pop out of his underwear. ‘Mmhhm, his cock is so perfect, just as I expected,’ you smiled to yourself, and in the next moment you were stroking his throbbing length, smearing his slick pre-cum around his swollen tip without any shame or fear of getting caught.

"(Y/n)," Patrick hissed as he pressed you against the wall with his weight, his hands sneaking down your back to grope your ass. "Be quiet," the man ordered when he heard your soft moans. "Keep quiet and undo this." Bateman pointed to your bottom and just the thought of what he was about to do to you almost made you cum.

"Why?" You gave him a foxy grin and tightened your grip on his dick, forcing Patrick to hold his breath.

"Just...just do what I say..."

"Okay, honey."

"Don't call me that!" He uttered and squeezed your ass painfully, your bodies grinding against each other, making you hot and sweaty.

"Patrick..." You attempted to kiss him, but he turned away.

In one swift motion, the man reached your neck and aggressively nipped at the throbbing artery. "Shut up! Just shut up and undo this fucking..."

You didn't let him finish his tantrum as you caught his lips with yours, increasing the tempo of the jacking, and you could feel he was so damn close. But since he was so insistent, you undid the lower part of your garment, and everything that happened next was like one of your recent dreams. Bateman, flushed and panting, crouched down, his cock slipping out of your grasp, but the next second his fierce mouth found its way between your legs as he began to suck on your sensitive flesh with sheer greed and passion, not forgetting to pump his dick and growl softly against your skin.

"Ohh, Pat-Patrick," you gasped, tugging at his brown hair, dishevelling it, but neither of you cared. "I'm gonna cum if you don't stop..."

"Mmm-fuck, you taste so sweet," Patrick pressed his face closer to your core, his free hand nailing you to the wall to hold you in place. "You're shaking like a fucking whore."

Chucking, you yanked at his hair a little harder. "And you're devouring me like a starved man, are you starved, Bateman? How long have you been... so fucking s-starved?" You hiccupped as he redoubled his efforts, lapping at your crotch and jerking himself off. "F-fuck, I'm... I'm gonna..."

The loud footsteps made you both stop in your tracks, and when you heard people coming into the bathroom, you stalled completely, only to quickly fix your clothes and then pretend nothing had happened as you left the stall. Later, as you were washing your hands, Patrick stood behind you and you met his eyes in the mirror. "Are you leaving or..." You asked briefly as he handed you your twisted bill.

"Yeah," Bateman straightened his jacket and wiped his mouth with a paper towel before opening the door. "You better forget about it. Believe me."

‘And now I feel like I need a memory reboot.’

Chapter 2 is here! 💗✌

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines #patrick bateman x male reader #gn reader

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the-modern-typewriter · 3 months

Note

Hello! Would you be willing to write about someone who finds out that their roommate and childhood best friend is actually some kind of supernatural creature? Preferably m/m but its okay if you’d like to change the genders.

Have a nice day!!!

"You're...uh...wow."

Maybe Holden should be horrified, but all he could really do was stare, dumbly entranced. The staring wasn't that different to normal, if he was going to be really horribly honest with himself.

But Atlas also wasn't normally crouched near stark-bollocks naked in the middle of their dorm room. He didn’t normally have dark, gorgeous wings unfurling from his back. He didn’t normally stare at Holden with eyes that had gone from blue to literally black too. Hungry. Heated.

Holden hastily shut the door behind him before someone else on the floor saw.

"Are you, uh, okay, man?"

His best friend was, very clearly, not okay. His gaze tracked every small movement that Holden made.

"You," Atlas growled through his teeth. "Are not supposed to be here."

"Right. Yeah. Uh. My class was—" Holden lost his trail of thought as he continued to stare. "God,” he said, a little dizzy, “you look incredible."

Five-year old Atlas had been funny and brave. Nineteen-year old Atlas also had the absolute gall to be stunning on top of that. It was, frankly, terrible on a night out. On his own, Holden did okay. When he was standing next to Atlas though, more and more as the years passed by, he may as well have been a potato. He couldn't even hold it against anyone. He did enough trying not to stare himself.

But...he definitely hadn't noticed the wings before. He would have noticed wings, right? Even with that smile and those cheekbones to distract.

He realised, dazedly, that he'd drifted closer. One step, two step, three, until he was standing right over Atlas. Close enough to touch.

"Get out." Atlas sounded strained. "Now." His fingers – his claws – dug into the threadbare carpet.

Holden wanted to run his fingers through Atlas's blond hair. He wanted to kiss his parted lips, the line of his jaw, the beautiful curve of his throat. He wanted to touch every inch of Atlas that he could. He wanted Atlas's hands on him, sure and just as smitten as Holden had been for years, and he'd do anything, offer anything if—

"Holden."

The sharp snap of his name cleared Holden's mind a little. He shook his head and backed up. "Sorry. I—"

What the hell was he doing? Heat rose to his cheeks, mortified.

There were a lot of reactions one could have to seeing their best friend suddenly sprout wings, but Holden was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to just drool over his roommate like some kind of neanderthal. He'd done such a good job of not letting his stupid feelings impact their stupid friendship until stupid now too.

It wasn't like he'd never caught a glimpse of Atlas without his clothes before. It had never made him like – he would never have – but would it be so bad if he just—?

No. Something was definitely wrong.

Holden whirled around, heading back for the door. He'd opened it only a crack when Atlas's hand slammed down on it, shutting it again. The lock clicked as Atlas bracketed him with an arm on either side. They weren’t quite touching, but they were close enough that he could feel the heat of Atlas against his back.

He hadn't even heard Atlas move. His breath hitched.

Atlas groaned. He let his head thunk against the door, above Holden's left shoulder, as he drew in ragged gasps.

Holden heard him swearing and muttering under his breaths. He caught a few words that’s sounded suspiciously like ‘bloody scheming bastard vampires’ and a much more familiar ‘shitshitshit’.

Up close, Atlas’s new cologne was…was it cologne? Holden’s head felt cloudy again. He dug his nails into his palms, desperately shoving down the truly ridiculous urge to turn around and kiss Atlas immediately.

“What the hell is happening?” He squeezed his eyes shut. “You have wings. You have – I feel –”

“You’re supposed to be in class for the next three hours!”

“My class was cancelled,” Holden said. “Some last minute—”

Atlas caught hold of his hips, spinning him as if it was absolutely nothing, pressing him back against the door.

The bit of Holden’s brain that wasn’t too busy with oh, yes please reminded him that Atlas was not that bloody strong. He should not be able to do that. He always skipped the gym when Holden went, despite looking like that.

“What are you?” The obvious question finally penetrated the fog.

Atlas’s attention lingered on his lips, seeming…distracted.

“Incubus,” he murmured. He’d always had a nice voice, but in that moment, that word, it was like caramel. Sweet on Holden’s senses. “God, you’re pretty. Sharing a room was a terrible idea.”

It took a second for the actual response to register, let alone the rest.

Incubus.

“What?” Holden yelped.

It was all some elaborate joke.

(Atlas didn’t do pranks.)

It was impossible.

(Those wings looked very real, no matter how impossible they were.)

How had it taken 14 years for him to notice his best friend was an incubus?

(Did that mean he didn’t really have a crush on his best friend? It was just – what he was?)

Atlas’s fingers grazed just slightly beneath Holden’s jumper, blazing hot against the skin above his hips.

Holden asked no coherent questions whatsoever. He didn’t even manage an incoherent word. Every reasonable thing he should have been considering vanished in a haze.

His best friend was an incubus? Sure! Whatever. Nothing mattered except the fact that there was really far too much distance between them. Atlas’s mouth was right there and – Holden couldn’t have said which of them initiated the kiss, but it was ravenous and he was putty against the door. Head empty. All need and greed and wanting. He finally got to tangle his fingers into Atlas’s always annoyingly perfect hair and –

The lock clicked.

Faster than Holden could fully comprehend, the door was open and Atlas had bodily shoved him into the corridor. He landed sprawling and ungraceful on his butt.

He had a second to peer up, bewildered, at the look of absolute raw desire on Atlas’s face before the door slammed shut. The lock clicked again.

The texts pinged on his phone a moment later.

Don’t come back until I say so.

Will explain later.

Sorry.

Well, crap.

Holden pressed a hand to his mouth, catching his breath and his sanity with Atlas out of view. Then he went to the uni library to research everything he could about incubi.

By the time Atlas texted him that evening, he was ready.

#incubus #incubi #m/m #m/m romance #writing #story #ficlet #supernatural creatures #writeblr #writing snippet

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joelalorian · 20 days

Text

Fall Into Me - Chapter Six: And I Knew My Heart Wasn't Mine

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling in love. Finally some smut-ish stuff. Dry humping on the couch. Joel is his own warning. Tommy keeping it real. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Some of the tags aren't working in the taglist - if you're not getting the notifications, please check your settings to make sure you are taggable. Thx!

Chapter Five | Main Masterlist

Sitting at the kitchen table on Sunday morning, you reviewed an email on your phone from the Texas Education Agency. Relief washed over you. The State Board finally approved your certification after jumping through a million hoops, just in time for your upcoming meeting at Sarah’s school.

Yet another step closer to finally feeling like an actual adult contributing to society.

“Morning, Spud,” your dad greeted as he walked into the kitchen in search of his morning coffee. “You’re up early. Did you have fun with Sarah yesterday?”

“I figured I’d seize the day and all that. I had a blast yesterday! Sarah is so smart, and Joel was really nice, as always,” you replied, playing down quite how much of a roll Joel had in making the day so enjoyable. You still couldn’t believe how things worked out.

Joel Miller, dead sexy single father, liked you, wanted to be with you. Little morsels of doubt tried to weasel their way into your mind, trying to make you question what was so special about you that a man like Joel would be interested in. You shook those thoughts away, resolving to believe that you deserved someone like him, someone who liked you for who you were and not who they wanted you to be.

“He comes from good stock, that Joel,” your dad interrupted you’re wandering thoughts. “Not sure what happened with Tommy, though. Musta been dropped on his head as a baby or somethin’.”

“Dad!” you laughed, shaking your head. “There’s nothing wrong with the guy. He’s young, single, and unburdened by responsibility. I imagine you were like that once upon a time.”

“Musta been so long ago I can’t remember,” he replied, hip checking you into the counter when you stood to place your glass in the sink. “Watch yourself there, Spud.”

“Jeez, thanks, Dad,” you replied with an amused eye roll. Your dad watched as you tidied up your little mess from breakfast and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

“You know, Spud. You’d do well to find a man like Joel. He’s a really good guy. Shame he doesn’t date. All the women go crazy over him.”

Your dad kept going on about Joel’s aversion to dating, but your mind froze on that one simple statement – you’d do well to find a man like Joel. You tuned back in just in time to hear him say, “He needs to settle down with a girl like you. Someone smart and responsible who’ll still give him a run for his money.”

Practically bursting with the urge to admit that you and Joel just officially started seeing each other, you curled your lips between your teeth and just nodded. You promised Joel you’d wait a bit before mentioning anything to your dad and you planned on keeping that promise. “He should be so lucky to find someone like me,” you sassed finally.

The day carried on as you spent some quality time with your dad watching TV and lounging around. It was refreshing and relaxing, reminding you of times past where the two of you spent a bunch of time together.

The urge to text you plagued Joel all day Sunday, distracting his attention from the football game until Tommy finally snatched the phone out of his hands and hid it.

“Enough, brother. You’re like a lovesick fool checking your phone every five fuckin’ seconds. You just spent the day together yesterday. Give her a little breathin’ room,” Tommy chastised. “Women like a little mystery after all.”

Flopping back into the couch cushions with a huff, Joel crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t want to play games with her, Tommy. None of that aloof, hard to get bullshit.”

Shaking his head, Tommy waited until a commercial break to turn to his brother again. “I’m not sayin’ to play games. I’m just sayin’ you don’t need to be up her ass 24/7. You’ll see her every day this week. It’s ok to build up a little healthy anticipation today.”

Joel knew his brother had a point. He just couldn’t help himself. It’d been so long since he felt like this about someone – if he ever really did before – and it was messing with his head. Berating himself for not even kissing you yesterday, Joel wanted to at least text with you today. It felt somehow wrong to not talk to you.

Then again, you hadn’t texted him either.

Tommy made a valiant effort to distract Joel from his thoughts, talking statistics about the game and the players, anything to get the guy talking. It only worked for so long before Tommy couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, how ‘bout this. I’ll take Sarah for a dinner and ice cream date tomorrow so you two can spend some time alone. Get a little action in and maybe that’ll help you get your head out of the clouds.”

For the first time in hours, Joel’s face lit up. “You sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer otherwise,” Tommy replied. “You two need to figure out if there’s something there and you can’t do that with a ten-year-old hanging around all the time. Not unless you want to scar her for life.”

Joel nodded, reaching out to take his phone back. Before letting go of it, Tommy grinned. “I already texted her for you. You’re welcome.”

Ripping his phone out of his brother’s hand, Joel scrolled through his text messages to find what Tommy sent you.

JM: Hey sweetheart. Netflix and chill tomorrow?

He only knew what that meant because of Tommy and you had to know that wasn’t something Joel would say. “Jesus fucking Christ, Tommy!” Joel growled, his ears turning red from what you must think. He was about to really lay into his brother for overstepping when you responded.

You: Netflix and chill, huh? Sounds like my kinda date 😉

Not expecting that response, Joel chuckled. Maybe Tommy knew exactly what he was doing after all.

“Like I said, you’re welcome,” Tommy teased when he saw the goofy smile on his brother’s face.

Joel ignored him, proceeding to ask you about your day. The two of you texted back and forth well into the night until it was time for bed.

Climbing between the cold sheets of his large, empty bed, Joel wished you were there with him. He could already imagine you there, falling asleep together after a romp or two, waking up next to you in the morning. It sounded like heaven to him.

Hmm, maybe he could Netflix and chill his way to convincing you to spend the night tomorrow.

You didn’t know what to expect when you walked into Joel’s house Monday morning, but it certainly wasn’t a flustered Joel, knelt on the floor, staring down at a mess of pancake mix surrounding him and Sarah giggling her little heart out at the breakfast table.

“What happened here?” you asked, hands on your hips and eyes surveying the damage. “Did you have a fight with the boxed pancake mix.”

“He really did!” Sarah exclaimed, still laughing. “It went everywhere!”

“I see that,” you replied, grinning at her before turning back to Joel.

He stared up at you with wide, sad eyes and shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t get it open and then it just…” His arms spread wide, gesturing at the powdery mess on the tile in such an endearing way. You couldn’t stop your smile from growing wider.

“Go finish getting ready for work. I’ll get Sarah some cereal and clean this mess up,” you directed, gently pulling him to his feet and around the mess.

“You shouldn’t have to clean up my mess, sweetheart,” Joel replied, pulling you in for a hug. You could tell the warm press of your bodies together made him feel better and you basked in it as well, not minding the bit of pancake mix that transferred to your clothes.

“Don’t worry, I got it. Now git!” One hand swatted at his ass playfully as he rushed out of the room. “Now, what kind of cereal do you want, nugget?”

Fifteen minutes later, Joel returned to find the mess gone and you running a mop over the tile to wipe away any last remnants of the pancake mix disaster. Sarah already finished her cereal and was upstairs brushing her teeth before it was time to head to school. When you put the mop back into the bucket, Joel crept up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you close until your back was flush against his chest.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he breathed in your ear, sending a flood of goosebumps down your arms. Joel pressed his lips to the spot just below your ear and left a trail of kisses down your neck. The feel of his lips on your skin exceeded any expectations you had, and a contented sigh left your own lips.

With a hurried tenderness, he spun you around in his arms, the mop forgotten as it nearly fell out of the bucket. Faces close together now, your eyes drank in every detail of him from the richness of his dark brown eyes, the curve of his nose, the purposeful stubble of his beard, and, finally, to the fullness of his bottom lip. You could feel his eyes doing the same, drinking in every bit of your face before tilting his head impossibly closer.

“I’m going to kiss you now, ok?” Joel murmured; lips nearly pressed to yours already and you hummed in approval.

After all the weeks of mutual pining and self-doubt, Joel finally kissed you. It started as a soft press of lips and quickly morphed into an overwhelming need to devour each other when his tongue teased along the seam of your lips, begging entry to deepen the kiss. Teeth knocked together and tongues tangled as you tasted each other – somehow, the taste of coffee was suddenly appealing when it came from Joel’s mouth.

Hands wandered – his over your curves and yours into his luscious, dark curls. Joel’s hair felt as silky as it looked, and you had been itching to get your fingers in it from the moment you met him.

The sound of Sarah’s footsteps bouncing down the stairs broke the two of you apart, breathless, and dazed.

“Wow,” Joel murmured, struggling to remove his hands from your waist.

You smiled up at him, equally unwilling to remove your fingers from his hair. “Exactly,” you whispered, stepping back with your hands at your side just as Sarah entered the kitchen.

“I’m ready!” she declared excitedly and you both grinned at her cuteness.

“Okay, nugget. Let’s head out.”

Heart melting in your chest, you watched Joel and Sarah do their morning routine of saying goodbye. The love between the two of them was so strong it was like a tangible thing you could hold in your hands. Nostalgia washed over you as memories of your own childhood, moments like this with your dad, flooded your mind. What you had with your dad, what Joel and Sarah had together, was a connection that would never fade, only grow stronger with time.

Briefly, you wondered if your evolving relationship with Joel would affect that connection, interfere with it in anyway. You couldn’t move forward with him if that was the case. Some woman showing up and changing the dynamic between you and your dad would have upset you as a child and you refused to be the cause of any upset Sarah felt.

When the two of them stepped back from their hug and grinned at you, any question about your place in their dynamic washed down the drain. You felt nearly dizzy with relief when Sarah quickly said, “Give her a hug, too, Daddy,” and shoved him as hard as she could in your direction.

With a chuckle, Joel gave in to Sarah’s demand, wrapping his arms around you. The broadness of him surrounded you, enveloping you in warmth and a sense of security you’d not experienced before. Was that what love felt like?

“Have a good day, darlin’. I’ll see you later,” Joel’s deep voice was but a whisper in your ear, his lips just grazing your earlobe. “I’m looking forward to tonight.”

Warmth raced up your neck to your cheeks and you squeezed your thighs together in anticipation of what you hoped would happen later. “You have a good day too, Joel. Be careful, ok?”

“Always, darlin’.” He winked as you led Sarah out the front door to your car.

The journey to Sarah’s school started off quietly, Sarah bopping along to the music on the radio as you navigated the morning traffic. Your thoughts wandered to what you should wear later when Sarah startled you with a sudden question.

“Are you my dad’s girlfriend now?”

She asked the question so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure how to respond. Would she be upset with whatever answer you gave? Was there even a right or wrong answer? What did she want to hear? Mind racing, you settled on asking Sarah a question in return.

“Would you be upset if I was?”

Tilting her head side to side a few times, the little girl contemplated her answer while you held your breath. She turned to you with a smile so big it scrunched up her nose. “Nope! It’d make me really happy.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows were nearly at your hairline.

“Uh huh. You’re the coolest and prettiest. My dad would be lucky if you were his girlfriend,” Sarah admitted with all the confidence and knowledge of a ten-year-old. Another head tilt and she added, “So, are you?”

Equal parts amazed and grateful for Sarah’s acceptance of the idea, you opted for honesty. “I mean, I don’t know,” you shrugged. How could you explain what you had to a 10-year-old? “We haven’t talked about naming it yet, but we did decide to see how we like being together. Does that make sense?”

Sarah gave it a moment of thought. “Yeah, I think so. It’s kinda like how you’re a teacher, but not officially until you get the job, right?”

You laughed at the comparison with a nod. “Exactly. I’m as good as your dad’s girlfriend, we just haven’t made titles official yet.” You pulled up in front of the school and it was Sarah’s turn to get out. “Now get going, nugget. Have a good day!”

The little girl bounced out of the car, calling out to one of her friends. Just before you pulled away, you heard Sarah tell the other girl that you were her dad’s not-yet girlfriend.

The day absolutely dragged. Joel could swear that time went backwards every time he looked at a clock. It didn’t help that every single subcontractor gave him a hard time about something today.

The roof trusses arrived six weeks early and the sub refused to take them back even though the damn things would rot before they got to the roofing phase of construction. The company he rented the extra backhoe from wanted to raise their rates in the middle of his contract. The list went on and Joel ran out of patience three hours ago.

The only thing holding him together was the thought of you. Spending time with you. Kissing you. Touching you. Burying himself inside you… He adjusted himself with a sigh. Damn, he needed to put those particular thoughts on ice before he got himself riled up. The workday was shitty enough, he didn’t need the guys giving him a hard time about an untimely chub in his pants.

Finally, Joel had enough of everyone’s bullshit and called it a day, leaving his foreman in charge of the worksite.

“Off to doll yourself up, are ya?” Tommy teased as Joel headed for his truck. Gesturing in the general direction of Joel’s crotch, he added, “You remember how to use that thing? Make sure to clear out the cobwebs and use protection!”

“Jesus, Tommy,” Joel grumbled, climbing into his truck, and driving off. He knew his brother was only teasing, but Joel was nervous enough as it was. He didn’t need Tommy getting in his head. He did have a point about protection, though.

A quick stop at the convenience store to grab a box of condoms, Joel made it home before you and Sarah. Putting on some 90s rock, he jumped in the shower, putting in the extra effort to tidy himself up down there. He wondered if you preferred pubic hair or not. Fearing he was getting way ahead of himself, Joel opted to just trim his down and hoped for the best.

By the time he finished trimming his facial hair and tousling his curls, you and Sarah were downstairs, working on her homework. As he walked down the stairs, Joel could hear you encouraging his daughter to think the questions through and congratulating her when she got the answers right. His heart grew three sizes watching how you were with Sarah. You held his whole world in the palm of your hand and treasured it like the precious cargo it was.

Joel was falling so hard for you. You were quickly gaining the power to destroy him.

“Hi Daddy!” Sarah called out when she spotted him in the doorway. “We just finished my math homework. Can I play in the backyard?”

He set up a tire swing on the large live oak out back a week ago and it quickly became his little girl’s happy place. “Of course, nugget. Come give your old man a hug first.” Bending down, Joel swept Sarah up in his arms, biceps stretching his shirt sleeves as he swung her around in a circle. Sarah’s laughter echoed through the room, and you smiled sweetly at the pair of them.

“Uncle Tommy’s coming to take you out for dinner and ice cream in a bit. Ok?” Sarah nodded when he settled her back on her feet and raced for the sliding door. Once she was out of sight and earshot, Joel turned to you. “Come ‘ere, darlin’,” he said, voice deep and velvety.

Your body followed his command without conscious thought, so great the need to be in his arms. “I thought about you all day,” you admitted, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“Me, too. Could hardly focus on the job thinking about you and spending this evening together.” He tightened his arms around you, head bending to seal his lips to yours. When your lips parted at his prompting, Joel teased your plush bottom lip with his teeth. “It’s like a tasty little gummy worm,” he teased. “I could nibble on it all day.”

You moaned into his mouth, the little breathless sound music to his ears.

The kiss deepened until you were licking into each other’s mouths, hands wandering and grasping for purchase on any piece of real estate you could reach. Neither of you heard the front door open or the footsteps approaching the kitchen.

“Am I interrupting somethin’?” he asked cheekily as the two of you sprang apart, disheveled and gasping for breath.

Joel ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself. “Excellent timing as always, brother.”

“Y’all just couldn’t wait five more minutes, could ya?” Tommy’s grin a mile wide as he teased. “Lemme get the nugget out of here before you two scar her for life.”

You tucked your face into Joel’s shoulder bashfully when Tommy slipped through the sliding door. Joel groaned and wrapped his arms around you. “Don’t mind him, darlin’. He just likes to bust my balls.”

Ten minutes later, after some hugs from Sarah and more teasing from Tommy, you and Joel were alone. Taking your hand, he led you to the couch. He hoped you didn’t notice that his rough palms were sweaty with nerves. You were abnormally quiet, and he wondered if you were nervous as well.

Seated a few inches apart, the tension became too much. “What are you in the mood for?” Joel asked, breaking the silence as he pulled up Netflix on the TV. He barely logged into his account when you suddenly straddled his lap.

“Hi,” you said when he stared at you in surprise. “You know what I’m in the mood for?”

“What?” He barely got his mouth to form the word, his brain short circuiting with you in his lap. His grip on the remote loosened, yet neither of you cared when it fell to the ground.

“You.”

There was a moment where you both froze, each waiting for the other to act first. Then the tension snapped, and Joel’s lips crashed against yours. His tongue danced along the seam of your lips until you opened them to let him in. Tongues tangled in a never-ending dance as your hips tilted, grinding down on him. Joel was uncomfortably hard in moments, pressing up against your warmth.

His hands were everywhere, fingers tenderly tracing the structure of your cheekbones, down the curve of your neck, along the swell of your breasts. They finally settled, grabbing handfuls of your ass to pull you impossibly closer. You moaned into his mouth, hips bucking in search of more friction.

Gasping for breath, Joel tore his mouth from yours, his hands urging your hips into a rhythm as you dry humped him. His mouth left a trail of scorching kisses down your neck, eliciting a wave of goosebumps to flow down your arms. Your hips rocked, gliding across his hardened length and Joel swore he could feel your wetness breaching through the layer of clothes separating you.

Fuck, how he wanted to taste you, get high on your sweet nectar. He knew, just knew in that primal way, that yours would be the best pussy he ever tasted. His cock swelled impossibly harder at the mere thought of burying his face between your legs.

“Jooooeeelllll.” His name coming from your luscious lips in a drawn-out moan caused his own hips to buck up into you, hitting just the right spot to make you both see stars from the friction alone. His mouth sucked little marks into your neck, leaving his left ear exposed to your mouth as crooned, “I’m gonna come, fuck. You’re gonna make me come in my panties, Joel.”

“Fuck, darlin’. Come all over me, pretty girl. I want to see you fall apart from grinding on me like this. Drench those panties.” Joel sat back a little, just enough to watch your face as your orgasm swept over you. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, eyes rolled back in your head, mouth hanging open in a silent ‘o’ as you trembled above him, delicate hands clenching the meat of his shoulders for balance. A little sheen of sweat dusted your hairline. Fucking beautiful.

Joel was absolutely certain he could feel you drenching his pants as you came, your breath finally coming back in a sharp exhale. He had never been so turned on in his life. Watching you come apart for him, feeling it seep through the layers of clothing became too much. For the first time in his adult life, Joel Miller came in his pants with a desperate whimper.

tbc

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #Fall Into Me #pedro pascal #eventual smut #mutual pining #idiots falling for each other

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nicxl333 · 8 months

Note

hello

Could you write about bllk boy accidentally hurting their s/o badly.

It's okay if you're too busy. No pressure

BABY YOU SOLD ME A DREAM

characters: isagi yoichi, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, barou shouei, itoshi rin

content: major angst, reader is female coded (wears a dress, heels and makeup), mentions of smut in barou’s part but nothing actually happens (lol), vulgar language

☆彡 ISAGI YOICHI

“you think you know better than me? do me a favour and go find someone else who has the time to put up with your bullshit. ‘cause it won’t be me.”

you lay in your cold, desolate bed for the umpteenth time this week alone, which, considering it was only wednesday showed just how often isagi trained past late hours. as much as you understood his passion to climb to the top, it was simply neglect at this point. to you and to himself. you woke up, he was gone. you went to sleep, he wasn’t beside you.

of course, things were never like this in the beginning. he used to be around, take you out, nurture you and show you devoted love for you each and every time.

until he wasn’t.

once his team reached the quarterfinals of the champions league a while back, he changed. 2 hour training sessions in the evening turned into 4, and the time he spent with you halved as a result. it made you feel lonely and simply put, abandoned.

your texts querying his location and when he was coming home lay unanswered and unopened, probably within the confinement of his phone which lay in his bag during training. so you went to bed alone like you always did, missing what your relationship used to be.

as you stared at the pristine, bare white ceiling you heard a key in the lock of the front door. a few moments passed and the door pushed open, pads of feet resounding in the apartment.

you decided to go meet him in the living room, wanting to know if he’s at least okay.

as you entered the room, you were met with his figure, donned in black sweatpants paired with a black compression shirt. his normal post-training gear. the same gear that never failed to make you melt each and every time. he glanced at you in your nightwear and weary expression, due to him returning back so late.

“hey ‘ichi, how was training?”

“alright.”

you immediately frowned. outside the pitch he was never so curt and void of language. especially with you.

you ventured closer towards him, trying to debunk his guarded persona.

“are you sure? did anything happen to you?” you stepped closer still, till you were right in front of him, immediately noticing his dark circles, even in the dim lighting of the living room from the hallway light. you attempted to give him a hug, shrinking back in disappointment once he shrugged you off.

“i said it was alright. i’m fine, just go back to bed, i’ll join in a bit.”

bullshit. you knew full and well he would just retire to the sofa, watching playbacks of his games to further evaluate his performance. even when he wasn’t working physically he would somehow manage to work himself further mentally.

“yoichi. what’s wrong baby?”

“y/n, i won’t repeat myself again. go to bed.”

you stood there in disbelief. as far as you were concerned, you hadn’t done anything wrong, so it’s quite unbelievable that he would take whatever happened today out on you.

“isagi,” you made sure to use his last name to make aware you weren’t fucking around. “come correct with me please. i haven’t done anything to you and i’m concerned for your well-being. you’ve been going to sleep late, training until ungodly hours. this isn’t good for you and i’m now on the receiving end of your misery, god knows why.”

the tone in the room shifted, isagi, now displaying a scowl across his features at your rebuttal. yes, he was well aware he was maltreating himself, but to have you acknowledge his moment of weakness gave him an displeasing itch of anger that no one could scratch, not even you.

before he could think, the next words that flew out of his mouth changed the status of your relationship, whether he meant to or not.

“you think you know better than me? do me a favour and go find someone else who has the time to put up with your bullshit. ‘cause it won’t be me.”

you instantaneously drew back, his words punching you in the gut and twisting your insides. your heart leapt and fell, never expecting those words, out of isagi’s mouth of all people.

it was deathly silent for a moment, both parties having a staring match. you fought back tears, trying so damn hard to not allow him to see how his words affected you. alas, your emotions got the best of you.

you lightly sniffled, before balling your hands into fists. “you know what yoichi? fuck you, i’m done.”

you turned on your heel and made a beeline towards your shared bedroom, grabbing your biggest duffel and shoving clothes into them, not minding what it was that you picked up. only once isagi was the only individual in the living room did he snap out of his state, realising the weight of his words. he listened to the loud shuffling, registering that he may have just fucked his relationship over for good.

he swiftly followed you, watching you in a frenzy, having just changed into an outfit suitable enough for outside. it was then that he grasped you were serious, and slipped into full panic mode.

“y/n! y/n please baby, i didn’t mean any of that! don’t leave me.” he reached for your arm, falling apart, the same way you did moments before, when you pulled away from his touch. you knew if you succumbed to his pleas you might— might just stay. but you couldn’t. his words resonated within you and made you accept that fact that you needed space at the most, before your relationship delved into something irreparable.

you stood, duffel bag slung on your shoulder, tears running down each cheek, until they conjoined at your chin.

“isagi, i can’t. not right now. not when emotions are running this high. i need space. we should probably talk when we’re both calmed down. i’ll be at meguru’s house so you don’t need to worry about where i am.”

he respected your wishes, he had no choice. if he wanted this relationship to survive he had to.

so he let you go.

☆彡 MIKAGE REO

“you’re very much subpar, do you think i need to keep you around? my name alone will help find me someone better than you.”

one thing about mikage reo that really ticked you off was his obsession over his best friend, nagi. simply put,

he was always there.

when you were chilling together, when you went out, even after date nights he would come to your shared condo, playing video games with your boyfriend until god knows what time in the morning. it always felt like you had to share and fight for reo’s attention, which was pretty much a losing battle considering reo gave nagi as much of his attention to nagi as he did.

you did your best to not voice your concerns to him, withholding your true feelings, that you did. but sometimes there’s just moments where you can’t help but snap.

and that moment came at your first year anniversary dinner with reo. hell, you should’ve called it your first year anniversary dinner with yourself, considering the fucker didn’t even show up.

you had dolled yourself up so nicely, a sexy silk black dress (purchased with your own money, you didn’t like to depend on reo too much) with matching heels. your makeup was done flawlessly and not a hair out of place.

you sat at an expensive table at an expensive restaurant, sipping over-expensive wine while you waited for him to show up. you hadn’t seen him since this morning, due to him training all day today, but you had planned this dinner with him together a month ago, reservations and all, with reminders here and there about the upcoming date.

you had waited for about an hour, taking into consideration that there could be traffic, although you hadn’t experienced any on the way here, thus giving him the benefit of the doubt.

however, when no signs showed of him arriving you turned to a waiter and excused yourself, paying the bill and walking out to collect your car from the valet.

once it was brought to you and you were seated, ready to drive off, the first thing you did was call reo via the bluetooth feature, beyond pissed off.

after a few rings he picked up, the sounds of video game gunfire audible in the background.

“y/n? what’s up? where are you?”

you scoffed incredulously, ignoring the city lights whizzing past you as you drove on the highway.

“what’s up? where am i? reo, do you know what day it is today?”

“no, why?”

you gripped the leather of your steering wheel, your frustration hitting a boiling point. “you cannot be serious. does our one year anniversary ring any bells, huh? the fact that i’ve reminded you, time and time again? you stood me up reo! what could you have possibly been doing that was more important than remembering a big milestone in our relationship?!”

he didn’t even have to answer for you, because the answer came in the form of a “reo, why did you stop? our team just lost.”

nagi seishiro.

if you weren’t angry before, you were absolutely livid now.

“reo, so you mean to tell me that spending time with your friend was more important than remembering your one year anniversary with your girlfriend? do i mean nothing to you?”

“y/n it’s not that deep, we can just reschedule for tomorrow or something.” you could hear his exasperation through the phone. the audacity of him, considering he was completely at fault here.

“not that deep? not that deep?! you let me sit there for over an hour in an upscale restaurant by myself and didn’t even think to worry about where i was! why is it not getting through to you that you missed our anniversary to play games? you see nagi everyday, whether it’s at training or at home. you mean to tell me that you couldn’t bear to not see him for one singular day out of the week?”

there were probably a ton of possibilities and explanations for why he said what he said next, but if you had to choose, it would probably be the fact that nagi could most likely hear the argument over the phone, which lead reo to attempt to regain control over the situation, by any means possible, to not appear weak.

“you’re very much subpar, do you think i need to keep you around? my name alone will help find me someone better than you.”

oh. you see how it is.

his words stunned you into silence, knocking the wind out of you. the only sounds that could be heard was the continuous tapping from reo’s controller and the low hum of your engine as you drove.

“look y/n i’m busy now, so we can talk later when you’re ho-”

you didn’t wanna hear what else he had to say, hanging up the call via the steering wheel and letting out a deep breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

without fail you indicated to turn off the highway, making your way to the nearest hotel. nevermind the fact that you didn’t have any clothes, you simply couldn’t handle seeing reo after the way he just wounded you.

once at the hotel and settled in your room you lay swaddled in the crisp white blankets. without any external eyes being able to see your state you let all walls crumble, tears cascading down in waves as you let all the previous bottled emotions fly free.

unbeknownst to you, your phone lay on the side table, softly vibrating whilst the screen lit up to show a picture of you and reo at a theme park, a call coming though from him.

it lay unanswered.

☆彡 NAGI SEISHIRO

“being in a relationship is a hassle already, i shouldn’t have to deal with you bitching and whining on top of that.”

you awoke to the sounds of rapid gunfire emanating from the living room, sighing to yourself. once again, nagi was devoting himself to a night of endless gaming.

it was a never-ending cycle. when he wasn't gaming, he was training and vice versa. as much as you loved and embraced the fact that nagi was lazy, he could at least make some effort to give you attention every once in a while.

rubbing the sleep away from your eyes you trudged your way through the apartment wearily, before being met with his figure, hunched on the sofa, eyes glued to the screen in front of him.

"sei, when are you coming to bed? i miss you."

"in a bit y/n."

"sei baby you said that last night, and i came back to you passed out on the sofa. the bluelight isn't good for you, especially so late."

he barely was around as it is, but when he was, he either slept, or was parked on the sofa.

it made you feel unappreciated, and majorly unloved. he never made the effort to take you out, tell you that you ever looked pretty or even acknowledge you anymore. to you at this point he was practically a roommate with a shoddy title that really shouldn't apply to the both of you.

"y/n, just leave me alone for now. i'm too tired to get into it with you."

"so you're too tired to argue with me being concerned for your wellbeing, but not too tired to invest your time into games, which ultimately drains your thought processes more? really sei?"

he was still focusing on the tv instead of your words, which ticked you off. so, determined to get his full attention, for once, you walked towards the tv and stood directly in front of it, blocking his vision, arms crossed and frowning.

"what the hell y/n? you made me lose."

"seishiro, can you stop being an ass for just a second and focus on me and what i have to say?”

faced with no way out, he had to oblige, placing the controller down with a heavy sigh, letting you know he was agitated. you couldn’t give a flying fuck though. you’d had enough of being neglected by nagi, and weren’t going to let him off this time.

“you don’t spend time with me anymore. you never take me out, we don’t ever talk to each other anymore. is it so bad for me to want to spend time with my boyfriend? is a game really more important than me? or is being with me detrimental to you in some way?”

he rolled his eyes, sinking back into the soft material of the sofa, irises piercing into yours. you shrunk back at his change in demeanour.

“being in a relationship is a hassle already, i shouldn’t have to deal with you bitching and whining on top of that.”

huh?

“nagi, where is this coming from? what do you mean being in a relationship is a hassl- i’m a hassle?”

he shrugged while rising to his feet, placing a hand behind his head and massaging his neck.

“i said what i said didn’t i? look, i’m going to bed, happy now? i don’t wanna argue with you, you’re too loud when you’re angry.”

you stood in shock, registering his words fully before swallowing and deeply inhaling.

“forget it nagi, i’m leaving. lose my number.”

“leaving to go where?” he watched as you briskly walked to the bedroom, following you in as you changed, grabbing your phone and keys.

“that’s none of your concern anymore. i’m breaking up with you.”

he said nothing as you walked to the front door, leaving with a final slam.

he should’ve stopped you, he really should’ve, for he would come to realise soon enough that allowing you to go,

would be one of the worst decisions he ever made.

☆彡 BAROU SHOUEI

“oi, i didn’t get into a relationship with you just so you can make my life harder. fix up or leave.”

when you asked barou out, you knew damn well what you were signing up for. considering he was so headstrong, particularly when it came to football, there would be moments where he might be nonchalant or absent.

what you didn’t anticipate, would be just how bad he would get.

once his mind was focused on football, specifically climbing his way to the top, there were no distractions, especially from his girlfriend, who at times he deemed his biggest distraction.

you did try to help and aid him every way you could, cooking him meals to eat after late night practices, tending to his injuries he may obtain after over-intensive sessions, cleaning up the apartment flawlessly so he wouldn’t be tempted to do it himself. all you really wanted in return was love.

surely that wasn’t too much to ask for, right?

wrong.

even after 7 months of dating, public outings with attempts to hold his hand resulted in subtle swatting away, instead opting to walk side by side. laying in bed together? don’t expect any cuddles from him. quite laughable actually that you’d ever think he’d be willing to do that. don’t think movie nights will be any different either. you’d better be keeping your hands to yourself.

fucking was a rarity, only really when he was very much pent up with frustration from football, libido overflowing from lack of release. and even then, while you were able to cum, that’s pretty much all there was to it. no making love or anything like that. he wouldn’t display his emotions to you enough in the first place for that to ever happen.

when you asked barou out, you knew damn well what you were signing up for. but you didn’t know it would be this hard. you figured he would loosen up eventually, getting used to at least some form of affection towards you. a little peck on the lips, or a hug from behind every once in a while would be nice.

one day, you simply grew tired. you were sitting on the dining table with him, having just finished dinner. barou stood up, ready to leave the table to shower.

“shouei.”

he stopped in his tracks, pivoting on one heel to turn and face you. his face remained blank, save for his usual signature eyebrow, arched in waiting.

“hm?”

“i-” you suddenly grew self conscious, afraid to voice your concerns to him. if you wanted things to change however, this conversation had to happen sooner rather than later.

“can we do more stuff together?”

his face now contorted into utter confusion, genuinely puzzled by what you were trying to say.

“what do you mean? i do enough with you do i not?”

“no, not that that sho’, i mean more couples stuff. like…couldn’t you just be more affectionate? i just— i don’t know how you feel about me at certain points, you don’t tell me anything as it is.”

he looked at you, playing with your hands, trying to look anywhere but him, clearly uncomfortable about this conversation.

“cmon y/n, you know how it goes already, i’m not into shit like that. i may like you and all, but all that lovey-dovey stuff? that ain’t me. never has and never will be. surely you should understand how i feel about you? the fact that i’ve kept you around this long should say more than enough.”

damn. fucking cold. either way, you weren’t backing down. you stood there, holding a firm staring competition with him before opening your mouth to speak.

“shouei, it’s been 7 months and news flash! it doesn’t. when you do shit like this, it makes me feel fucking inadequate. like i’m not deserving of you. long story short, you make me feel like shit. i’m tired of it sho’.”

“y/n, regardless of how you feel, i told you how i feel, and that ain’t gonna change.”

you couldn’t accept what he was telling you, believing that what you were saying weren’t getting through to his thick skull. his stance was too relaxed for your liking, arms simply crossed over the other, looking slightly bored.

“you’re not getting it shouei!” you raised your voice slightly, not quite shouting, but about two thirds of the way there. “you’re not understan-”

“oi, i didn’t get into a relationship with you just so you can make my life harder. fix up or leave.”

you halted, making sure you heard him correctly. to hear that he basically wouldn’t fight for 7 months worth of memories and time with each other left you in denial that it would be so easy for him to let go.

“excuse me?”

“did i stutter? fix up, or leave. two choices, one answer. it’s up to you but whatever you pick is your business.”

he gave you an out, an out from what you were currently going through. and as much as you did love and care for barou, you’d be a fool not to take it. things would only get worse.

you chose the latter, opting to leave, considering how little value your relationship held to barou. weeks passed, and the items you once held in the apartment decreased, leaving a half completed house, just like your heart.

he continued as normal at first, trying to get used to the newfound ‘freedom’. but as days passed on, the emptiness of the household became more apparent. the meals you used to cook were no more, barou having to take on the tasks himself. his injuries were taken care of in a subpar manner. while he could do it adequately, they weren’t bandaged or plastered as well as you used to do it. yes he would clean, but having it done already when he came back from training and to his standard…made him start to realise just how much you really did for him.

and maybe— maybe you weren’t so bad to have around. you did give him a sense of comfort that he could not achieve on his own, filling him on things that happened during your day gave him a sense of normalcy which alternately gave him that balance from his meticulous life as a quickly rising footballer.

he missed you, he missed what you had,

it’s a pity he realised only when it was too late.

☆彡 ITOSHI RIN

“honestly i don’t understand why i got with you in the first place. you’re so lukewarm it hurts.”

you were both busy. you both knew and understood that. rin was constantly abroad on travels for football and you had your own stuff going on at work, often leaving the office late at night.

when your schedules would occasionally match up and you’d both be home, most of the time it would still be you alone. rin would go off on his own to his usual training ground and work himself to the bone. he wouldn’t even tell you he was leaving, disregarding your worries or concerns that may surface.

you jolted awake randomly, looking to your left to see disturbed duvet covers, but an empty side. yet again. next you turned to your phone, squinting at the light from the screen which temporarily blinded you.

2:34am

you could take a guess or two at where rin was. specifically because you knew he lost his last match abroad and was pissed off about it, meaning double the training he usually did. you threw on some clothes, splashed water on your face and grabbed your car keys to drive to the open football field.

the massive stadium style lights lit up the field, illuminating it in a cool white, as you pulled up next to rin’s car. even from the car park you could hear the discernible sounds of rin’s foot booting a ball repeatedly. once closer, you could see him in his normal training gear, sweating profusely, enough to fill a small bucket.

“rin!”

he stopped, just short of making the next ball his victim, making eye contact with you, not expecting to see you there of all places this late.

he waited until you had crossed the distance between you, and stood in front of him to speak.

“y/n, why are you out here this early? i thought you were sleeping.”

“rin, i should be asking you that. it’s too early to be this active my love. come home please, i’m worried for you.”

all was silent for a moment, the only audible sounds on the pitch being a crow cawing in the distance, and rin’s heavy breathing.

“…i’m fine. just go back home. it’s too early for you to be up.”

you stood, hand on hip, showing your determination to get him to give up, not taking no for an answer.

“rin, you need to sleep. you’re overworking yourself. what happens when you’re fatigued and you leave yourself open for mistakes to happen? it’ll be worse for you in the long run.”

“tch, i wouldn’t expect someone who does office work all day to know the inner workings of an athlete. you don’t understand y/n.”

you sighed exasperatingly at his attempts to disarm you. he could be so stubborn when it was really for his own good.

“rin, i don’t need to be an athlete to understand that this isn’t good for you. anyone with two working brain cells can understand that constant working out and lack of sleep isn’t healthy.”

he rolled his eyes and turned back to the football in front of him.

“fine. whether or not you leave isn’t my problem, but i’m not leaving. stay or go, the outcome is the same either way.”

he took position, aiming and shooting flawlessly at the top left corner of the goal, the ball spinning against the net before falling to the ground.

he grabbed another ball, ready to complete the same procedure before you interrupted him once more.

“rin, just please come home, you can come back tomorrow. just because you lost your match doesn’t mean you should overwork yourself like this.”

this time when he turned back towards you, the tone had shifted. his face immediately darkened, eyes thinning into dark slits, eyebrows forming a crease on his forehead. his teal eyes shot daggers into yours.

“listen. we may be together, but that doesn’t mean you get to talk to me like you know what i’m going through. i’m going to be the best football player out there, and if i need to work double to make that happen, then so. be. it. i don’t need someone like you telling me about what i should or should not be doing.”

you stood in silence, effectively stunned and insulted simultaneously. you couldn’t say anything to counter yourself, rin’s harsh words opening up a side to him you’ve never seen before. that wasn’t the worst of it though.

“honestly i don’t understand why i got with you in the first place. you’re so lukewarm it hurts.”

your heart shattered, face hung in desolation and disheartenment.

after not hearing you argue back for a while he scoffed, walking to the side to collect his training bag. “whatever, i’m leaving now.”

he left you there, standing while the gears turned in your head to make some semblance of his words.

you didn’t even register you were crying until the cold nipped at your cheeks, decreasing the temperature of the liquid against your face. you pulled yourself together, just about enough to shakily make your way back to your car and press the ignition button.

you spent the whole car ride crying your eyes out, before wiping your eyes as you arrived back home. rin’s car was nowhere to be seen.

you walked up to the front door, slotting your key in and twisting your wrist to align with the lock.

pushing the door open, you stepped in to see the lights off and the aura dark.

“rin?”

silence.

“rin, are you there?”

nothing.

you sighed, tossing your keys on the table next to the door, making a beeline to your shared bedroom. it was empty, no signs of life present.

you stripped out of your outside clothes and slipped under the covers,

leaving you to cry yourself to sleep, wondering when it all went wrong.

baby you sold me a dream pt.2

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messylustt · 10 months

Note

Lowkey I genuinely want to have a zesty HC of Miguel's, Hobie's and i feel bad he doesn't get enough attention Ben Reilly's reaction to s/o reader surprising them in the wee bunny suit lingerie

omg plss. ben really doesn't get enough attention. he deserves it :(

( nsfw ) marks smut. praising. reader wearing lingerie. slight pet play. bj. brief mention of overstimulation. dry humping. (i actually made ben kinda subby here…also I’ve never written him before and don’t know his character a heck of amount but i wanted to try <3). semi unedited i apologise.

okay...cause miguel o'hara would of course be working.

you having had enough of his over busy schedule and lack of free time, resulting in short lasting kisses and quickies that always made you want more.

miguel would be fucking you, hair damp, praises easily tumbling from your lips..."dios, mi amor...that's it...doing so well for me...making me feel so fucking good...your tight little pussy taking me so well...carajo...you're so wet, letting me slip in whenever I want...yeah?"

and you'd be nodding, body pushed up, legs wide for him against a wall or a table.

but then his wristwatch would buzz, calling him in for another mission, saying 'something's gone wrong', and miguel wishes he could stay fucking your sweet cunt, but he can't.

which results in barely finished orgasms and an ache for so much more than what he can give you right now.

so, now you walk, hips slightly swaying with an air of indifference.

his office is always empty, miguel liking keeping the space to himself...and of course you.

so when you casually wander in, body adorned with a cute little bunny lingerie set that screamed innocence, miguel's gaze finally left his work...and he freezes.

god, did his eyes dart, everywhere they could go. no section of your half exposed body got free from his heated eyes.

but you act as though what your wearing is a simple shirt and simple pants, walking in saying you "accidently left something on his desk"

and as you go to step closer, moving your body torturously and languidly, miguel's eyes begin to darken.

you tapped your fingers along his desk, humming to yourself in fake thought. "i wonder where it is?" "maybe i did leave it back in my room..."

and you can hear the buzz of his wristwatch but when you glance at him his eyes are nowhere near his wrist, his gaze focused entirely on you as he stood, switching the wristband off with a flick of his fingers.

you go to step out of his office. "maybe you should take that...i'll go find phone in my room...i'm sure it's back there..."

but miguel is not gonna let you leave, swiftly webbing you towards him, and making you tumble into his chest with a small gasp.

then he's backing you up against his desk, as you're forced to press hard against it, miguel's arms caging you in as a small snarl edges his lips baring his fangs to you.

"are you sure you don't want to get that?..." you glance at his turned off wristwatch. but his large hands are grabbing your thighs and lifting you onto his desk, spreading your legs wide as he stands between them.

his hands brushed over the bunny lingerie, as he harshly pulls you closer to him, his mouth hitting your ear. "i don't think i will take that..." he meets your gaze, holding your cheeks between his clawed fingers. "i think..." he hoists one of your legs higher up, pulling you even closer, so that you covered pussy rubs against his hard on.

your mouth would fall open as miguel would speak to it. "...i think i need to fuck this pretty little bunny, who just wandered into my office..."

now you and hobie brown have tried many different kinks in bed.

many on his call, his lack of consistency making him suggest all sorts of new things he can do to your body. "come on, babe...i know you'll like it." he'd say with his signature side smile and teasing tone.

you'd always give in, and as promised it would feel so...good. "thank christ, hobie..." "yeah? that feel good, luv?" he'd be thrusting his long, ringed fingers inside you as your wrists would be webbed behind your back, your legs shaking with overstimulation. his fingers having fucked you for hours on end. "but don't thank the lord, babe...it isn't his fingers inside this...pretty lil pussy."

hobie loved the feel of your warm cunt clenching around them. and as he'd finally draw his fingers out of you his tongue would lick them clean.

now even though hobie was perfectly comfortable with expressing his kinks, you felt a little more nervous doing so with your own.

so when you had the idea to suck hobie off in a little bunny lingerie set, (leaning close to petplay) you on the floor as you licked his throbbing cock, you felt that familiar nervous flutter in your stomach.

hobie was lounging on the couch, legs spread as he watched something random on tv.

you were too shy to straight up tell him your ideas, so you instead decided to show him.

walking out of your room, the bunny lingerie on, with its little cottontail, and white fur features, you spotted hobie first before he looked to you.

"oi, luv, can you—" but the words would die in his throat upon seeing you, walking in...and looking like that.

you would walk up to a gradually turned on hobie as you moved to stand between his legs, a small shy smile spreading across your lips.

hobie's breathing would turn shallow as he quickly reached to touch you and pull you onto him. but you moved to your knees, placing your hands gently on his thighs and spreading his legs further.

hobie would be staring down at you, tongue coming out to lick his lip ring as you shuffled closer to his bulge. "i just wanted to...try something" you would say as your pretty fingers would drag along his hard on, making his hips slightly jolt.

"bloody 'ell, luv..." hobie would breathe out watching as you would take out his cock, your little bunny tail now at an easy view for him to see. "mm, dressed up as a cute lil bunny...is that for me?" he'd tease out, just as your tongue would quickly lick out, tasting his pre-cum, and letting the tip glide along the piercing there (yes i'm saying he's gonna have one).

his hands would fly to your head, as his legs would spread further.

you then begin to wrap your lips around his cock, going at a torturous pace, making hobie groan out little phrases... "oh, fuck...you're like ma' own lil pet...on your knees for me-'ell, luv...your tongue feels bloody good doin' tha'..."

and when you'd finally fit his entire cock into your mouth, the metal piercing hitting the back of your throat, his words would get worse (better). "don' stop...that's it...suck ma'-ah...my pretty little bunny...doing so fucking good...mm feel s'good." and in that moment hobie realised his slight kink for you being his pretty pet.

ben reilly would be stunned. eyeing your lingerie-clad body.

it had been a surprise. he had been working soo hard on special missions and destroying anomalies’ chances of evil doings.

you wanted to give him a break. you’d both never actually had sex yet, you guys taking it at a slower pace.

but now as ben stared at you, you moving to take a seat on the couch, as you stared at him, the concept ‘take it slow’ just didn’t seem register.

he moved fast, his muscled arms coming to wrap around your body, as his eyes continued to stare at your half exposed body. “what’s this for?…” but he didn’t really care for the reason, his hand already wandering your furry bra, while his body rested between your widened legs, that had begun to wrap around his hips.

“i thought you could use a break.” you say innocently as ben’s chest began to heave. “did you…fuck.” he’d hiss, his mouth moving to kiss your collarbone, as he pressed himself further into you.

you’d slightly shuffle your hips so that your lingerie would rub against his suit. a small moan would slip from his lips as his kisses would turn open-mouthed. “can I— can I fuck you?…god can I please fuck you?…i can’t wait anymore…”

he’d be shaking his head, slightly grinding down onto you as you’d bite your lip at his almost desperate tone. your hand would move to slightly play with his blonde hair, weaving through the strands. “you don’t want to take it slow?” you tease out.

“no, fuck no…I wanna touch you…all of you…please.” his grinding became nearly feverish, his want to just rip your bra off heavily prominent.

“since you asked so nicely…” you’d say unclipping your bra—ben couldn’t let your body go for the rest of the night.

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fooled-around-and-fell · 2 months

Note

angst to fluff with carmy please? 🥹

hope you like this!

Bad Day

genre: angst to fluff

pairing: carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings: cursing

Masterlist

------

it's not often that you're exhausted from work and the burning out usually never consumes you like this. when days like this happen, all you really want to do is to be left alone with your own thoughts, so you always stick in the office or walk around aimlessly to have some alone time first before going home. after today though, you just want to be in bed.

carmen also had a shit day at work, and usually he can come home, expect you to shower him with love and kisses to make it all better. you're so nurturing and it heals part of him, so when he comes home to a cold environment, he feels something is off.

"hey babe," he finds you in bed, scrolling endlessly on Tiktok.

"hey," you tried to sing-song it but came out flat. you didn't even look at him.

did i do something? carmen thinks to himself.

he hangs his jacket on the coat rack and plops on the bed, seeking warmth from you. "did you eat yet?"

"yeah, a while ago." you say. it's normal for you to eat first, carmen often tells you not to wait for him.

he frowns, noticing your nonchalant tone and scoots closer to you to cuddle, but you immediately scrunch into a ball and that makes it difficult for him to hug you.

carmen's frown only deepens, but he decides to let it go. "okay.. i'm gonna shower. wanna join me?"

"mm, i showered already."

carmen sighs and walks away while muttering, "that never stopped you before..."

carmen wracks his brain in the showering, wondering what he did wrong this morning because you were happy and cheerful. he did leave in a rush earlier today, didn't even have the chance to kiss you bye. maybe you're mad about that?

when carmen steps out of the shower, you're still in bed scrolling on your phone. he gets under the covers to join you, and once again tries to cuddle.

"carmen-"

"sorry i was in a rush earlier this morning," he says, kissing your shoulder.

you hum to acknowledge him and slowly remove his tight hold on you. he's actually not holding on that tight, but with your thoughts right now, it feels like a death grip.

carmen frowns again when you turn around not to face him and scoffs. "okay, what's wrong?"

"what?"

"i'm sorry i didn't have time to say bye earlier this morning, i was running late." he repeats himself, "i'm trying to make it up to you, alright?"

"what?" your turn to frown. "what are you on about?"

carmen sighs and gets up from the bed. "you've been ignoring me all night! i had a shit-terrible day at work and all i wanted to do is to come home and cuddle with you and feel better, okay? i'm sorry if that's too much to ask."

"fuck off, carmen."

"eat shit, carmen."

"get the fuck out, carmen."

that's the go-to response when you're usually in a fight with carmen. it's usually a yelling competition, or carmen being self-destructive, you being passive-aggressive or sarcastic, and it all ends with you two tired, in bed in each other's arms. but now, carmen is met with your silence, and he's really worried that he fucked up.

"did it ever occur to you that maybe i had a bad day too?"

maybe that's when carmen finally sees the dark circles under your eyes, or how you don't seem like you're able to smile. he doesn't think he's never seen you this exhausted, and he doesn't know what to do.

"do whatever you want, carmen."

you've never said that one before. his words hurt you, but you're honestly too tired to fight.

carmen isn't sure what to do. doing whatever he wants involves making you feel better, but he isn't sure he can do that at the moment. so instead, he lies back down in bed next to you and turns off the light.

------

the next morning's sunrise wakes your sleepless eyes, and you see carmen still lying down next to you. usually carmen still has work, but he told syd last night to take over so he can take care of you. well, maybe you don't need to be taken care of, but he decides he should do better and be there for you.

you slowly make your way to the kitchen to make breakfast and coffee, but carmen appears behind you and takes the coffee pot from you.

"sit down."

"i got it, carm-"

"sit. down."

you sigh and sit on the couch. you feel bad for possibly making carmen feel bad last night, but you also feel like he had it coming. he's not the only one who's allowed to have a bad day. then again... you usually don't show your bad days and deal with it on your own, so of course he wouldn't know when you're having one or how to cheer you up.

carmen sits next to you and hands you your coffee.

"thanks."

"listen," he starts. "i'm sorry, i should've paid attention to you more. i should've seen that something's wrong -- i sensed something, i just.. i don't know why i assumed you're fine when now that i think of it, you were obviously stressed out. it was selfish of me. i'm sorry."

you put your coffee down and climbed on top of him, letting him straighten both his legs on the couch while you lay between his legs, head on his chest.

"it's not your fault, carmy." you say. "i never... i didn't have anyone to rely on before you. it's not easy for me to tell you when i'm having a bad day or when i'm struggling because i'm so used to handling things on my own, and somehow i think telling you all that would make me a burden."

carmen slowly caresses your waist, kissing your forehead. "you're never a burden, and however you cope is up to you. just know that i'm always here regardless."

you look up and kiss him passionately. "thank you, carmen."

"there's that smile." he grins, kissing you again.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x female reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x female reader #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy fluff #carmen the bear #carmen berzatto the bear #the bear

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 5 months

Text

TOW they're both clueless

Steve struck out again, and he's not sure where he went wrong. He was leaning against Eddie's kitchen counter, frowning.

"Oh, man, did you tell her about the six kids thing?" Eddie asked from where he was sitting on the counter.

"Yeah, I mean, I told her I wanted to adopt and that I would happily be a stay at home dad," Steve said.

"Maybe they think it's a line. It's probably hard to believe that a guy actually wants to do that. I mean, I would happily do it too," Eddie said.

"I don't think she liked the hand grazing the thigh thing," Steve pouted.

"What? She's crazy. I loved it when you showed it to me," Eddie said. "Maybe you got nervous and did it wrong that time? Show it to me again, big boy."

Steve sighed and stepped in between his open legs. He took his hand and ran it gently up Eddie's thigh. Eddie sighed and bit his lip.

"Well?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, she's crazy. That was good. If I was a girl, I'd totally be into it," he replied. "Maybe you're a terrible kisser."

"What? No! Every girl I've ever kissed always told me that I was a really good kisser," he said defensively.

"Maybe it's because they think you're so handsome that they just don't have the heart to tell you that you're bad," Eddie said.

"Well, then how the hell am I supposed to find out?" Steve asked.

"Kiss a friend who you know is going to tell you the truth," Eddie said.

"I don't think Robin is going to want to help me with that, and I'm not sure I'd want her to," Steve said, scrunching up his nose.

"Kiss me, man, like you did with the hand on my thigh," Eddie said. "I'll be brutally honest."

Steve nodded and moved closer to him. Steve cupped his cheek and pressed his lips softly to Eddie's. It was gentle at first until he slowly sped it up, moving his lips against Eddie's as Eddie started to do the same thing. It was weird. He didn't need to imagine Eddie as a girl. All he was thinking about was Eddie and his tongue slipping into his own mouth. Eddie deepened the kiss for a moment before breaking away, breathing heavily.

"Okay, yeah, no. That was fucking good. If I were a girl. . .," Eddie said.

"Yeah, right, if you were a girl," Steve said, blushing.

They stared at each other for a moment, not saying anything.

"What are you like when you fuck?" Eddie asked.

"Eddie!"

"What? You have to know, right?"

Several sweaty naked moments later. . .

"Okay, so it's not that," Eddie said as he stared at his ceiling. "If I was a girl. . ."

"Do not! We just had sex, Eddie!" Steve exclaimed.

"Right!" Eddie blushed.

Steve sighed and rolled out of bed. He pulled on his boxers and one of Eddie's shirts.

"After I sleep with someone, I usually make us some food like breakfast, lunch, or dinner. It's dinner time, what do you want?" Steve asked.

"Jesus, how are these girls still rejecting you?" Eddie asked, rolling out of bed and pulling on his own boxers. "You're the perfect man!"

"I don't know, maybe it's because I talk too much about the kids or about Robin or. . . Oh," Steve said softly.

"What?" Eddie asked.

"It's because I talk too much about you," Steve said.

Eddie stared at him for him for a moment before laughing. He hopped over to Steve and pulled him in for a seering kiss.

"We're both idiots," Eddie said.

"Yeah," Steve agreed with a crooked smile.

"You should know, though, that we both can't be stay at home dads. Someone is going to have to work," Eddie said.

Steve laughed and kissed him so hard they fell back onto the bed.

"You owe me a date, Harrington."

#stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #bisexual eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington #bi4bi #mutual awakening #based on an episode of friends #because they remind me of joey and chandler sometimes #stranger things fanfiction

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libraryofgage · 5 months

Text

A Place Like Steve in a Boy Like This

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One (you're here!)

The Mummy (1999) is one my comfort movies, actually, and I realized Rick and Steve are very alike actually. It's the looks, it's the hair, it's the loyalty and devotion.

Anyway, here's an AU where Rick and Evelyn O'Connell are Steve's parents lol

If there are any other people you think would make good parents for Steve, let me know! I'll take them into consideration and see if inspiration sparks :D

Anyway, if you'd like a tag on any future parts, let me know!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;P

-----

After being relegated to the open-air portion of some ruins in Crete, Steve entertains himself by slowly moving closer to the cats nearby in the hopes of petting them. His parents said he couldn't go into the ruins, but they didn't say a thing about playing with the ruins' inhabitants. Said inhabitants are gathered in a circle, some standing and some stretching out in the sun, but sticking together as though they're waiting for someone to begin a discussion.

He takes a piece of jerky from his bag, tearing it into small pieces as he peeks around the corner of a column. A few large stones are scattered around it, nearly reaching his shoulders and helping to hide him from the view of the cats on the other side. Though, in all honesty, they're probably only sticking around because they smell the jerky in his hand.

Steve grins and tosses a piece of meat over the stones, watching as it lands in the middle of what he's dubbed the Cat Council. A calico cat jolts, ears perked as she stares at the meat before taking a tentative step forward. She sniffs the meat, decides it's an acceptable offering, and eats it.

When it's gone, Steve tosses more pieces. He feeds a few more of the cats now, and he's practically buzzing with excitement. Deciding they're less likely to scatter, Steve clambers onto the huge boulder in front of him, managing to find little footholds to boost himself up. With a grunt, he makes it to the top and looks down on the Cat Council, ready to throw the last of his jerky when he hears the stone beneath him shift.

In the time it takes to blink, the ground crumbles beneath the rock, scattering the cats and dropping the stone out from under Steve. He falls with it, momentarily and terrifyingly weightless before gravity takes over and he drops. A yelp escapes him, followed by a pained cry as he lands feet-first on the rock, his ankles taking the brunt of the impact and, if not breaking, severely spraining for the effort.

Grit, dirt, and dust coat Steve's tongue and throat, and he coughs up as much as he can while taking in his new surroundings. Thankfully, sunlight filters into the underground space, allowing him to see the tiled floors and walls covered in a carefully carved and painted frieze that has, somehow, survived the centuries since its creation. Several figures wearing togas and carrying baskets line up outside a darkened arch. They don't exactly look happy to be there, but they seem resigned to their fate. Steve can even see the tears meticulously carved into several faces.

When he follows the frieze, he realizes the space he's in is really a hallway, one that seems to stretch forever on either side of him. Amazingly, there's no other sign of aging in it. No spiderwebs crowding the walls, no erosion from wind or water damage, and no sign of people having walked the passageway in centuries. It's the kind of perfectly preserved discovery Steve and his mother lose their heads over while his father waits for something to go wrong.

Steve is about to try standing (if he can stay upright, maybe he can explore a little and find something to show his mother before they realize he's gone missing) when he hears...a snort? Maybe it's more like a heavy puff of air. He tilts his head, twisting around to squint down the corridor to his right. Something glints in the darkness, close to what he assumes is the ceiling, and Steve grabs his flashlight.

He clicks it on, aiming the beam at the ground and slowly moving it down the corridor. He stops when the light shines on cloven hooves, a bad feeling beginning to build in his chest. With a now somewhat shaking hand, Steve slowly raises the beam, that bad feeling growing as it shines over furry hind legs and a furry waist that seamlessly blends into scarred skin just below the navel. Despite everything, he keeps going, only confirming his worst fears when his flashlight finally reaches the top to find the head of a bull staring straight at him, the horns cracked and nearly scraping the ceiling, the black eyes undeniably trained on Steve, and a glimmering golden ring looped through its nose, as untarnished by time as the friezes.

For ten seconds (Steve counts while trying to control his panic), he and the minotaur stare at each other. Then, it puffs out air again, the force strong enough to sway the ring in its nose. Steve grips the flashlight tighter, swallowing around the wariness threatening to choke him and briefly wondering if, maybe, centuries have somehow soothed the minotaur's anger.

And then it roars, deep and loud and powerful enough to shake the corridor and bring more dust and grit raining down on Steve from above. It lowers its head, aiming its horns straight at Steve, and charges with all the fury of a creature that's been denied centuries' worth of sacrifices.

Steve screams as the minotaur's hooves shake the ground with each step, too scared to do anything more than sit there and wonder if there will be enough of his body for his parents to identify when the minotaur is done with him.

He's just about accepted the answer (it's no; the answer is no) when something grabs the back of his shirt and yanks him up just before the minotaur crashes into the boulder. Strong arms wrap around Steve, holding him close as his father's familiar voice says, "I gotcha!"

Steve blinks, his heart still hammering as he clings to his father's neck and looks at his mother over his shoulder. She's staring at the hole, a frown on her face as the minotaur's enraged roar sounds from below. "Rick, I think we should go now," she says, grabbing the back of Rick's shirt and yanking him back just in time to avoid the minotaur's giant hand slamming into the ground next to the hole.

"Great idea, Evie," Steve's father says, his voice a little strained as he passes Steve over and pulls out a gun. "I'll cover you. Get Steve to the car, get it running, and I'll meet you there." The minotaur screams again, and Steve is still close enough to see it realize it can climb the stone to reach the surface.

"You have three minutes, or I'm coming back for you."

Rick looks over his shoulder, flashing a grin at Steve and his mother. "I'll be right behind you," he promises.

And he was. With a minotaur right on his heels and another week added to their time in Crete while they tried to get the whole situation straightened out without too many casualties or Steve's uncle Jonathan ruining more than one good pair of trousers.

-----

Steve doesn't think he'll grow used to the smell and sounds of the hospital. The antiseptic, sterile atmosphere isn't too bad, but the constant background noise has the potential to drive him up the walls. It helps that he, Eddie, and Max were finally moved to a room together, mostly muffling the beeps and PA announcements with each other's chatter, snoring, and other noises.

Right now, everything is drowned out by the kids arguing with Eddie about their next campaign. Eddie wants to do a sequel of their current one while they've been gunning for something sci-fi-themed if Steve is understanding their debate correctly. He's not sure why it's so important, but their voices are creating nice background noise, and Robin's rhythmic, habitual tapping of her fingers on his arm grounds him, so he lets his mind wander.

Honestly, Steve thinks they'd all benefit from a nice trip somewhere. Maybe Paris. They can't possibly run into anything in Paris, right?

Well. The catacombs do exist, and nobody knows what's down there. So they'd have to stay well away.

But still. Paris. The food. The Louvre. The history. And, you know, maybe they could just pop into the catacombs just so Steve can take pictures and show his mother later. Following a strictly regulated guided tour should be perfectly fine.

Steve drops his head back against the pillow, wincing slightly when the action tugs at the stitches along his throat. They hurt, but his worst injuries are on his sides where the demobats bit and feasted. The doctor said they'd scar permanently, looking somewhat apologetic about the fact until Steve waved her off. What's a few more for the collection?

Besides, at the time the doctor was giving him a rundown of his injuries, another had been doing the same for Eddie. His list was pretty similar to Steve's, and it only took him a few seconds to realize something very important: if Steve hadn't been there to share the demobat burden, Eddie would be dead.

That fact had sat with him for a while. Death is no stranger to Steve. In fact, he's intimately familiar with the concept. And all the ways it can be subverted. Steve doesn't want to think he'd be the kind to pull out the Book of the Dead after everything his parents have told him, but he also knows he'd do anything for the people he loves. Like Eddie. Like Robin. Like the kids.

Steve has risked his life for them numerous times, and he'd do it again without a moment's hesitation.

"I can't believe we're only just finding out!"

This statement comes from the hallway on the other side of the room's closed door. The voice is achingly familiar to Steve, one he's only heard over the phone for the past few months, and he sits up straight. The conversation in the room falters for a few seconds before picking up again after the kids decide it's probably not relevant to them.

And then comes hurried, angry footsteps outside the door and a doctor's voice saying, "I'm sorry, but only authorized visitors are allowed to see patients."

"I wouldn't stay in her way," a man's voice says, his tone teetering between amused and genuinely sympathetic toward the doctor.

Apparently, he doesn't heed the warning, and the room is silent enough that everyone hears the following tirade. "Authorized visitors? Authorized visitors?! Are you stopping me from seeing my son? Who on earth do you think you are? If you don't get out of the way, I will make you move, mister."

"I wonder when she'll realize she's got the wrong room," Dustin says, sounding amused.

"Ma'am, I ca--," the doctor's words are cut off by a sudden yelp and the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the floor outside.

The door is thrown up to show a woman, her shoulders heaving and her curly hair in disarray. She's covered in grime like she dragged herself out of a grave and came right away without stopping to clean up. Which, honestly, might be the case. Behind her is a similarly disheveled man, a fond smile on his face as he looks at the woman. "That's my girl," he says, the smile becoming a full-blown grin when the woman smacks his chest without turning around.

The sight is so familiar that Steve nearly tears up. He hasn't seen his parents in months, and their appearance suddenly lifts a weight that he didn't even realize was on his shoulders. Whatever else happens, they'll take care of it.

Finally, Evelyn's eyes land on Steve, and the anger on her face melts away into relief and worry. She rushes over, sliding around Robin before she can move, and cups Steve's face in her hands. "Oh, my poor boy, are you okay? What have the doctors said?" she asks.

Steve's father hovers behind her, giving Steve a once-over with his eyes before determining he's fine. "Better question," he says, placing a hand on Evelyn's shoulder and leaning closer, "Where in the hell were your guns?"

Steve is about to answer when his mother whirls on Rick. "His guns? Our son is in a hospital bed, and you're asking where his guns were?! Are you daft? Have you lost your mind?" she asks, poking her finger into his chest.

He sighs, takes her hand, and wraps his other arm around her waist. "Evie, he's fine. He's awake, and nobody in here looks like they're preparing for a funeral. Clearly, he's gonna be discharged soon. So, I think asking where his guns were is reasonable because maybe he wouldn't be in a hospital bed if he'd had them."

"Dad is right," Steve says, getting his parents' attention. He grins at them. "I'm fine. Doctors said it would just be another scar. Or, well, like three more scars. Doesn't matter. I should get discharged later this week."

Before Evelyn or Rick can say anything else, Dustin asks, "What the fuck is going on here?!"

"Language!" Steve shouts, turning his head to glare at Dustin.

"Did you seriously just call him out on language?" Rick asks. "You?"

"His mom gets upset when he swears, so I've been trying to set a good example," Steve mumbles, slumping down in his bed. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Everybody, these are my parents. Evelyn and Rick O'Connell. Parents, this is, well, everybody."

"Oh, let me see if I can name them," Evelyn says, her eyes lighting up some at the challenge before pulling away from Rick. She points to each child as she correctly names them. "I already know Robin. So nice to see you again dear--"

"Nice to see you, too, Mrs. O'Connell."

"--Now, you must be Dustin. I've heard plenty about you, young man. And based on the haircut, you're Will. You've got to be Mike, and you two are Lucas and Erica. This must be El, and you're Max, right? I'm sure you'll get better soon, dear." When Evelyn turns and sees Eddie, she gets a softer smile. "And you're Eddie. I've heard quite a bit about you, too. All good, I promise. It's so nice to finally meet you."

"Wait," Lucas says, frowning slightly in confusion, "Eddie and Steve have only known each other for, like, a week?"

Everyone looks at Steve, and he shrugs in response. "Eddie was pretty impossible to ignore in high school," he says, brushing off the questioning looks until only Robin and Eddie are left staring, the former with a knowing glint in her eye and the latter with a confused one in his.

"Sorry, I still can't get over Steve having parents," Mike says, his nose scrunched up like this entire thing might be some hallucination.

"Did you think he was an orphan?" Robin asks, shooting him a similar scrunched-nose look.

"I don't know! He's never talked about them! I thought his parents were, like, absent assholes or something," Mike says, his shoulders raising defensively.

"That's our fault, I'm afraid," Evelyn says, smiling apologetically as she moves to stand by Steve again. She places a hand on his head, gently carding her fingers through his hair. The motion is familiar and reassuring, and Steve leans into the touch, unaware of Eddie staring at his mom's hand.

"Our work is pretty, uh, need-to-know," Rick says, shrugging as he reaches behind Evelyn and places a hand on Steve's shoulder. "As in, nobody needs to know."

Steve is nodding in agreement when more footsteps sound from the hallway and his uncle slides into the doorway, nearly tripping on his own feet. He clears his throat, adjusts his jacket, and looks up to find a whole room staring at him.

He blinks and tugs on his collar, shifting his gaze to Evelyn and Rick. "Well, after you lot ran off, I got us visitor passes," he says, holding up three stickers.

"You stole them," Steve and Rick say, their voices in synch and nearly indistinguishable.

To his credit, Jonathan doesn't question it. He just scoffs, walking into the room and slapping a sticker on Rick's chest. "I am offended. How could you possibly think I stole them?" he asks.

"Should I remind you how we met?" Rick asks, raising an eyebrow at Jonathan.

"Fair enough. Carry on," Jonathan says, looking away and moving to Steve's side. "Good to see you, old boy. Glad you aren't dead, and sorry it took so long to get your parents here. It's not easy making phone calls to the Amazon Rainforest."

Steve shrugs. "I figured," he says, watching as Evelyn pulls her hand from his hair to place the visitor sticker on her chest.

There are going to be endless questions later. The kids are definitely going to try to grill Evelyn and Rick about their work and about Steve as a child. But there's plenty of time for that later.

For now, Steve is happy to just relax and let his parents take over. He doesn't have to be the responsible one anymore, and he can finally breathe with that weight off his shoulders.

----

Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@badgerburrows

#steddie #steddie fic #the mummy 1999 crossover #steve harrington #rick o'connell #evelyn o'connell #jonathan carnahan #eddie munson #the party #future steddie #here for a good time not a long time #that's the vibe with these crossovers btw #just enjoy the chaos lol

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demetris-cocksleeve · 1 year

Text

(A/n: Disclaimer- I don't know French; I took Mandarin in high school instead lmao. I asked my sister who took it (she failed but google wasn't helping😂) and she said to default to the male version of ma chère/mon cher if the gender isn't stated, so blame her if it's wrong lol)

Word Count: 1,724

Summary- Everyone knows that some actions are just objectively more attractive than others. But which of these actions represent the brothers?

Warnings: Allusions to spicy moments in Mammon's, Asmo's and Belphegor's

Age Rating: Pg 13

Obey Me Brothers x Things That Are Attractive

------------------------

Lucifer as- Pulling you in by the waist:

"There you go. Just like that." Lucifer guides.

"I feel ridiculous," you say as you step to the side with your right foot and slide the left back into position.

He had taken it upon himself to teach you how to dance. Which, on the surface isn't bad in itself, but when you dig a little deeper and find the two left feet you were 'blessed' with, it becomes slightly more daunting.

"You don't look it," He assures you as he leads you through an improvised spin.

Coming back in, your hands find their place on his shoulders as you waltz around the empty ballroom. He dips you low, arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you upright once more. Though, instead of resuming the steps, Lucifer keeps you in place; his arm tightening around you until what little space between you is gone.

Your hands are pinned against his chest as you look up to him. There's a look in his eyes that you can't quite decipher, and you don't know if you should try to.

"Despite your self-acclaimed 'two left feet', I think it's safe to say you have successfully learned the waltz." You can feel his minty breath fan your face with how close his is.

"What a shame," you tease. "Looks like you won't be needing to teach me anymore."

You earn a soft 'hah' as he leans impossibly closer with a smirk that shouldn't have you feeling the way you do. "On the contrary. You'll be learning the Salsa next."

Mammon as- Pinning your hands above your head:

"No!" You yell as you're knocked down.

"Gotcha!" Mammon cheers as he reaches for your phone.

He has you on the bed, legs on either side of you as he attempts to get rid of the picture of him sleeping.

"C'mon! You look so cute in it!" Your attempt to reason falls on deaf ears as he fails to snatch your phone again.

"I'm literally droolin' ya dummy!"

In a last-ditch attempt to preserve the photo, you stretch your arm above your head as his grapples you for it.

The end result is both your wrists in one of Mammon's hands as his other works on deleting the picture. He tosses the phone to the side once he's done.

"You learn your lesson yet? Don't mess with The Great Mammon!" He smirks down at you, chest heaving from exertion.

The sight of you pinned under him, hands held above your head as you look up at him has him gulping. His free hand comes up to grip the side of your jaw, tilting your head up just the slightest.

"I think I should make sure ya learned yer lesson~"

Leviathan as- Spinning hugs:

"Yes!" Leviathan cheers from beside you as the monster finally falls after what seems like hours.

He had called you to his room to help with a level of a new game he got. What he didn't tell you was that it was the final boss, and it was only a P1 game.

So, without any introduction or in-depth explanation you were thrust into an insanely difficult level. If you're being honest, you were kind of just spamming the controller and hoping for the best. What you didn't expect was actually making progress and killing the damned thing.

Levi jumps up as he celebrates. You can't help but laugh at his antics as you're pulled to join him. Deciding there's no harm -you're in his room with the door shut, who's gonna see?- you play along. Cheering and jumping alongside him.

You let out a yelp as he wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up. Your yelp turns to laughter when he twirls you around before nuzzling into your neck.

"I can't believe you actually did it! I've been trying to beat that thing for days!" He's quick to pull you into a kiss, face bright red when you separate. Your foreheads rest together as any residual laughter fades.

Satan as- Lifting you to reach something:

"Satannnnnn!" You whine. "I need helppppp!"

You can hear his unamused sigh from a couple sections down.

"What could you possibly need help with? We're in the library for hell's sake..." His voice gets steadily closer as he makes his way to the bookshelf you're in front of.

He rounds the corner to see you on your tiptoes as you try to reach a book. You look to him for help but only receive a deadpan.

"Really?" He crosses his arms. "There is literally a step ladder 10 feet from you."

"Yeah, but now you're only 4 feet from me."

Satan turns to walk away but you're quick to grab his arm.

"Please? You and I both know that with my luck, I'll probably fall off the thing." You both know the only reason is because you want to annoy him.

"Not my problem." He starts to walk again, only this time you rush in front of him.

"But books read better when they're from you." You got a small huff of amusement so that's something.

"Do they now?" Wow, he's actually playing along.

"Yup," you nod as believable as you can.

There's a second of silence before he breaks. "Fine. Which one do you want?"

Dragging him over, you expect him to reach up and snag the title off of the shelf. What actually happens is that he places both hands on either side of your waist and lifts you until you're eye level with the book.

Shaking off the shock, you quickly grab it before he decides to drop you.

"Thanks," You mutter when he sets you down, face hot both with embarrassment and at the display of strength.

Satan simply hums in acknowledgment as he walks away, leaving you standing clutch your book to your chest.

Asmodeus as- Neck/jaw kisses:

"Darling~" Asmo drawls from his bed, head hanging off the side to look at you.

"Yes?" You sigh as he drones for your attention for the nth time.

You need to get this essay done before tomorrow, but the Avatar of lust doesn't want to make it that easy for you. When he had invited you to his room to 'study' you should have seen through the fib but you hadn't. So here you are, stuck trying to get work done with a perpetually horny demon vying for your attention.

"I'm bored, mon cher." He rolls off the bed and hangs himself on you, arms over your shoulders, chest against your back and chin resting on your shoulder.

"And I'm trying to finish this."

"C'mon..." His head lifts from its position to nuzzle into your neck. "You're not the least bit tempted to take even the smallest of breaks?"

His soft lips graze your skin with each syllable. A feather light, kiss presses itself against the column of your neck.

"Asmo, I really need to work on this..." Despite your words, your head still lilts to the side allowing him to trail his kisses up to your jaw.

"You know you want to~" Asmodeus chimes, voice sending vibrations through you. "Take a break." He presses another kiss to your jaw.

"Just for a few minutes..." Another kiss.

"Ugh." You move to save your progress. "Fine. 15 minutes and then I get back to work."

"That's all I need, my dear." You can hear the smirk.

Beelzebub as- Licking something off their finger:

"You can't eat that, yet!" You cackle as Beelzebub sticks his finger in the cake batter.

"But it looks good..." He's looking at you, finger still in the mixing bowl. You can't help the face you make when he says that. The sugar hasn't even been added yet, there's no way it would taste good.

You tell him so, only to receive silence as he takes his finger out and slowly moves it to his mouth.

"That's just going to taste like flour and eggs, Beel." You try to reason.

He looks you right in the eye as his lips close around his batter-covered digit. Beelzebub keeps looking at youas he sucks the liquid off his finger. With a *pop*, his finger comes out clean and it's all you can do to not grimace at what the taste must be.

"It's good." He says.

Beel dips his finger in the batter once more, only to hold it out to you. "Taste it."

The corners of your mouth pull down as you lean away. "I think I'm good, actually."

"Humor me?"

He's holding your gaze as he continues to offer the batter to you. Looking between his finger and face, you concede. He'll just keep trying until you taste it, so you say:

"Fine, but I'm not swallowing it."

With that you grab his wrist to stabilize as you tentatively lick at the batter. Surprisingly, it's not bad -Beel must have added the sugar when you weren't looking. Upon seeing your reaction, Beelzebub pushes his finger to your lips.

Deciding it's easier to just play along, you let the digit enter, maintaining eye contact. Your tongue swirls around the digit, getting all of the batter off.

With one final suck, he slides his finger out of your mouth, fingertip resting against your lip before dropping and pulling your bottom lip with it a bit as it goes.

The kitchen is silent as you hold his heavy gaze.

Belphegor as- Lazy morning make outs:

Your lips slot together slow and steady in the bath of golden light that is Belphegor's bed.

Both of you had just woken and, in an attempt to neither wake up or slip back into the sweet embrace of sleep (damned RAD classes...), you'd somehow found yourselves lip locked.

Your legs are tangled under the blankets as the two of you move in sync. Nothing else important enough to draw your attention away from the other.

His hand is in your hair, keeping you close as he bites on your bottom lip. The noise you let loose enough for him to make it his mission to drag more sweet sounds from you. Your own hands come up to push on Belphegor's chest to until he's lying on his back with you laying on top of him. His other arm slides up your back, a grunt leaving his lips when you roll your hips down.

"Fuck-"

A knock interrupts your moment.

"Get up. You're not going to be late again." Lucifer's voice is muffled by the door, but it doesn't lessen just how over everything he sounds.

#lucifer x mc #mammon x mc #leviathan x mc #satan x mc #asmodeus x mc #beelzebub x mc #belphegor x mc #obey me x reader

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kaeichi · 1 month

Text

love is in the air.

. . . and maybe that's why mikage reo can view the world with such clouded, pink-hued vision, and why nagi seishiro cannot breathe at all.

series. nagi + reader + reo. gn! reader. reader likes guys. bestfriend! nagi. valentines/white day. highschool setting. swearing. humor. fluff & angst.

prev ┊ next ┊ 01 … 02 … 03

⊹ 02 : radiant [wc: 4.6k]

TWO YEARS AGO

“ah…found you, finally.”

nagi huffs out, slightly out of breath as he leans against the railing of the staircase on the fourth floor. what a damn hassle, making him expend such excessive effort like this—it all could've been easily prevented if you just replied to his text asking you about his whereabouts. he figures your phone must've died, because there's no way you wouldn't have noticed his 7 texts of wya? in a row.

“been tryin’ to look everywhere f’you. next time, can you just tell…” he trails off once he steps closer and realizes you're not alone.

“seriously? him again?” your boyfriend len scowls, directing his caustic gaze at the topic of interest, who has conveniently decided to show up at the right moment.

except nothing about this is right at all.

there's no good explanation as to why you feel your heart plummet. your best friend, your only trusted companion whose mere presence incites a familiar sense of comfort and an effortless, breezy smile from you; when you're with him, you don’t have to think much about the reasoning behind why he has that sort of ability, or why it feels like you're right at home whenever you're with him.

you just somehow know. and that's how it has always been.

being with nagi is supposed to be easy, calming, and freeing, even—so why is there a heavy pressure weighing down on you all of a sudden? despite everything, why has he suddenly become the last person you want to see right now?

“seishiro?” apprehensively, you ask, “what are you doing here?”

“i just came to get you. like usual.” while there's nothing wrong with what nagi says, you still inadvertently wince, hesitating to meet either male's eyes as an unpleasant feeling brews in your gut.

“yeah, but i told you i was gonna be with my boyfriend…”

here’s the thing: it's not like nagi doesn't know you have one.

when you first told him about it, he thought it was a joke (a hilarious one, at that). he thought it might've been one of your delusions again, and in typical nagi seishiro fashion he only spared you a fleeting glance with heavy-lidded eyes and a congratulations, i guess in the most listless tone. and when you told him to go on ahead because you wouldn't walk home with him today, he failed to take it seriously once more, thinking it was one of your weird ‘loyalty pranks’ to see if he would actually go and leave you behind.

but when he didn't feel the usual tug on his shoulder, or your arm resting against the top of his dozing head to wake him up at the end of the class, he thought there was something slightly off. when he looked around and saw no trace of you around the classroom or even around the front of the school, he thought there was something really wrong.

nagi’s starting to find this stupid joke less and less funny.

could all of the previous days (or has it already been weeks?) you’ve been talking about this mysterious nobody be true? he should’ve paid more attention. so, yes—it's not like he doesn't know you have one, he just had a rather hard time believing it (though he doesn't know it's due to the fact that you are you, or because maybe he's just in denial about it).

what annoying, annoying jest. when did this so-called “relationship” even have the time to blossom?

“oh…did you?” the white-haired male’s voice doesn't come out as smooth as he’d like. he scratches his neck, feeling it a bit clogged for whatever reason. he's glad he's not the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, because even if his voice betrays him, he can at least keep his expression neutral. “well, i’m here now, and i don't wanna walk home alone. i kinda forgot the way back, so i need your help—”

“seishiro!” you hiss, your voice clipped and bordering on desperate; a warning, one that goes right over nagi��s head.

“you know what?” a peeved voice cuts in—len’s, whose patience has worn thin. he has had enough of nagi demanding your attention that was supposed to be reserved for him. if you can’t even keep your eyes solely on your boyfriend, then you might as well be a good-for-nothing cheat. “forget this. i don’t think we’d ever work out if this continues.”

“w-what? wait, huh?” as your face crumbles, nagi is unable to grasp why he feels a faint throb in his chest at the sight. “let's talk about thi—”

“right, let's talk about it, hm?” when you finally meet len’s eyes, you’re barely able to recognize your boyfriend at this point, his taunting sneer morphing his face into someone completely different. is this really the kind, alluring lover that you fell for? “be with me, or cut off this… this nagi kid?”

“what? where did this come from? you can't just suddenly make me choose—”

“and there's your answer.” he scoffs, slapping your hand away that's unconsciously reaching out to him before turning around to leave. in a few rigid strides, he's gone, and you're left staring blankly at the space where he just was.

it is nagi who breaks the silence after a few moments. “…guess this wasn't a good time, huh?” nagi sighs, gripping the strap of his backpack tighter as you remain frozen. “well, at least we can go home now.”

“nagi.”

confusion clouding all over his face, he slightly perks up at your somber tone, a hint of unease setting in his stomach. he doesn't like whatever this is that he's suddenly feeling. “why’re you calling me nagi?”

“i think you know why. leave me alone, nagi.”

for quite some time after, those words remain the last thing you've said to him.

nagi has always been somewhat aware of his inability to comprehend feelings, whether it be his own or of others, but this time is the first time he's ever bothered by his lack of aptitude; the first time he's ever felt this swirl of foreign emotions engulf him, of strange, unknown sensations rushing to him all at once. what started as a mere bud sprouting along the expanse of his lungs, grew double—no, triple in size within a matter of days, poking and squeezing the spongy organ until its function proved near useless.

the abundance of petals produced by these excrescences is nothing but a nuisance, blocking his airways and tainting his tongue with the bitter, awful taste of decay, which only seems to get worse with each passing week without a word from you. it's a pain, it's majorly vexing, it's—

“leave me alone, nagi.”

—it's suffocating.

PRESENT

nagi still refuses to join the soccer team.

in the hallways, reo somehow manages to always find you and your companion throughout the day, greeting the both of you with unmatched enthusiasm—the kind that someone really shouldn't have at seven o’clock in the morning. everytime that happens, reo is only met with the same, vacant stare, accompanied with a blunt no without much thought.

after all, he's not the only one who came to recruit the white-haired genius. the volleyball, basketball, and softball clubs (even the cheerleading team, for some reason?) have all tried, to which he instantly shut down.

“why would i participate in sports? even walking is tiring to me,” is his simple reasoning every single time, without fail.

at some point, reo tries to bribe him with a brand new gaming console as a “customary gift”. not that there's anything customary about that, but you suppose rich people live in a different world than you common folks do (when you found out that reo arrives to school in a goddamn limousine, you've lost all interest in being more than acquaintances with someone as absurd as that).

however, that is when reo finally manages to elicit a reaction from nagi, a slight sheen in his eyes that made you immediately panic, dragging him away before he gives in and telling him accepting anything from mikage? i think the fuck not! (“why not?” “because we don’t want to get in debt by someone like him!” “oh, we don’t?” “yes, dummy! next thing you know, we keep ‘borrowing’ money from him and eventually when we can't pay it back, he ships us off to some remote island and makes us his slaves for the rest of our lives because we couldn't afford our debt!” “you watch too much horror movies, i think.”)

however, as irritating as one’s persistence could be, deep down you hope nagi accepts reo’s invite. you've always known about his underutilized potential, and how he himself is the only thing that's holding him back.

truly, a waste that is.

“i know that rich boy’s been really annoying about it, but why don't you try it out? even just for a little bit?” you ask nagi, having stayed behind during lunch in your classroom instead of heading to the crowded school cafeteria.

“don't wanna,” he mutters against his arms, head buried against the desk.

“why not? our teacher’s been hounding you for not being in a club, right?”

“i’ll just join the book club or something. now go away,” he says, probably trying to catch up on much needed rest, despite already sleeping through your morning classes.

“you slacker. just try it out so mikage stops bothering me too.”

nagi suddenly lifts his head up. “he’s bothering you?”

leaning your elbow on the desk nagi’s lying down on, you press your cheek against your palm as you snicker at his sudden mood change. “mhm. won't you save me, your one and only best friend? the one you swore to protect until the world collapses? me, an innocent, pure ethereal being who's cruelly subjected to harassment and—”

he breathes out a long exhale. you brace yourself, racking your brain as you try to think of more ways to persuade him (without including the promise of reo’s “prize” or whatever suspicious deals you're sure the heir is involved with).

however, in nagi’s perspective, it's not because he needed any more convincing, but because he can't believe he's actually willingly to participate in something so bothersome for someone's sake. “…fine.”

“wait, actually?! for real?” with your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, nagi almost snorts at your ridiculousness. almost.

“you're the one who kept telling me to go for it, so why’re ya surprised?”

his sleepy voice gets drowned out by your excited chattering. “wow, nagi seishiro is actually interested in something else other than napping and gaming? no way! noooo way!”

“it's annoying, but yeah.” he grimaces, regret already sinking in—but since he's doing it for you, he supposes it's alright. just this once, he can make an exception. “…you're coming with me, right?”

a pause. “um… no? unless you want me to be the token benchwarmer?”

“ah, fair.”

“yeah, yeah. besides, i’m already in debate club, so me joining you is out of the question.”

“not even as our manager?”

“nope.”

nagi visibly sulks, lips forming into his signature pout. cute. it almost looks like he's at a loss of what to do without you—maybe it’s a result of you and him being stuck together at the hip since middle school, and how he's grown dependent on you due to his lazy nature, but you're sure he'll survive on his own.

…probably.

“i’ll come watch your games though,” you quickly add in case he backtracks on his word, reaching over the desk and tousling his hair, messing it up even more. he doesn't complain like how he usually would, merely blinking his wide gray eyes at you. “i mean, what kind of best friend would i be if i didn't support you?”

that seems enough for nagi. he straightens up, a hand running through his now disheveled white locks, peering at you with a newfound motivation. “better keep your eyes on me, ‘kay?”

you grin, nodding. “duh. goes without saying, loser.”

sometime after that, reo, nagi, and yourself have now fallen into some sort of routine: nagi now has practice on thursdays and fridays after school, but sometimes reo swings by unexpectedly during lunch on those days to discuss with nagi what their training plans would be after school (unable to wait until the end of the day, apparently). not that nagi actually listens, but he has come to a realization that it’d be too much work if he were to refuse him, so he just lets him do whatever he wants.

would it be foolish to think that reo would let up once he’s gotten what he wanted? if anything, his apparent interest grows even more, which only encourages the rumors that are recently circulating about you. girls still glare at you in jealousy, while guys sneak judgmental glances at you, but reo manages to clear up any misunderstandings using his natural charm and influence, so you're fine for the most part. how thoughtful. well, it's his fault in the first place anyway.

for some reason, you see him a lot more often than necessary.

…like right now, for instance.

when a flash of purple appears in your peripherals, you turn, met with the sight of reo’s handsome figure hovering by the doorway. the tall male is hanging rather stiffly in the middle of the entrance, as if unable to decide whether to come inside or not.

“mikage?” you decide to call him out. “what are you doing here?”

he flinches, akin to a deer in headlights. what's up with that reaction? is he not supposed to be here or…? “huh? well, i’m here for nagi, of course.”

“right.” you nod curtly. it's monday today; they don't even have practice until the next few days.

but even then, reo has picked the worst time to drop by, because nagi isn't even at school today. (surprise, surprise—he slept in. again.) just as you are about to bring that up, reo casually ambles over and pulls a seat back, sitting across you with a sheepish smile on his face.

by now, you've grown familiar with the scent of his cologne wafting in the air whenever he's nearby. it's a delicate yet expensive scent, fresh and woody, like musk with hints of apples and mint. a vast difference from nagi’s, whose smell is more down-to-earth, like fresh laundry and the breeze of early mornings.

other than the questioning glance you offer him, nothing happens for a few moments. reo opens his mouth as if to say something, but when nothing comes out, he reverts back to pursed lips and skittish glimpses. it's off-putting how he seems to struggle with striking up a conversation for once—you start to feel a bit awkward about the stretched silence, so you just shrug and continue eating from your bento. as long as he's not bothering you too much, you don't actually mind his company.

“want some?” noticing how you're the only one eating lunch, you absentmindedly bring up the chopsticks close to his mouth, urging him to take a bite out of your tamagoyaki.

that seems to finally snap reo out of his inner strife, his violet eyes widening as they flicker between you and the food, “y-you're feeding me…?”

ah, crap—you’re so used to feeding nagi that you didn't even think twice before bringing the neatly rolled omelette to his lips. before you can retract your hand though, reo quickly composes himself, enclosing his fingers on your forearm to prevent you from moving away. “okay, i guess,” he mutters shyly before taking a bite.

a slight relief fills you as you watch him accept your offer, though that quickly turns into nervousness. “well? how was it?” you ask, observing the purple-haired male chewing carefully with a finger on his chin.

“did you cook this?” reo returns with a question of his own, peering at you through his lashes.

“you didn’t answer my question…”

“hm. did you?”

“what, is my cooking not good enough for the great master mikage reo’s superior taste buds?” you roll your eyes, feigning nonchalance as your face warms at the fact that he's deliberately avoiding your questions. you half-expect him to spit out the food; now that you think about it, surely he wouldn't enjoy eating something so bland and second-rate—

“hmm, not sure. i might need another bite to fully understand the flavors.”

you blink dumbly at reo’s coyness. well, he doesn't seem to outright hate it, so that's better than you are initially expecting. when you push the bento closer to him, he only stares at you expectantly, as if waiting for something. you stare right back, muttering, “what is it?”

“uh…actually, i broke both of my hands. and my fingers too. all ten of them.” reo blurts out, simultaneously hiding his hands away from your view.

…what.

this is the second time you're at a loss for words because of reo. perplexed, you lean in, trying to take a peek behind his back. “your fingers seemed perfectly fine when you grabbed my arm.”

“well, a lot can happen in two seconds.”

“like…?”

“spontaneous functional impairment?”

i’ll show you a spontaneous functional impairment, you grumble under your breath. “i am not your maid.”

reo tilts his head to side, warmth radiating from the innocent smile plastered on his face. it's the same one he usually wears, the kind that makes one weak in the knees—one that you're fortunately immune to.

(at least you think so, anyway.)

“…if i paid you, would you be more inclined?”

“piss off, mikage.”

reo chuckles, airy and soft, and you find it disturbing how a mere sound can easily disarm your guard. that's just the kind of person he is, you guess, barely even having to try yet the influence he holds over anyone (regrettably including you, to a certain degree) is undeniable. you ponder why someone like him is even here in the first place; doesn't he have more important stuff to do?

“kidding, i'm kidding! it's delicious.”

but when he assures you and you watch as his eyes crinkle with amusement, you decide not to sweat the little details. he continues, “i mean it. i’d love to have more, if you're willing, of course.”

since hakuho high is a college prep school, your school’s soccer team is weak compared to the others, not to mention fairly new, established only recently by reo himself (thus making him captain, as if he couldn't be any more popular). it hasn't garnered much attention from its students—but since this is the first official match against another school, a pretty sizable crowd has filled the bleachers that friday afternoon, excitement and anticipation buzzing in the air.

on the way to the bleachers, you catch sight of your friend and his teammates warming up while the coach gathers them to hold his final group meeting prior to the game, most of them stretching their legs and some basking under the sunshine (and by some, you mean only nagi).

after the coach finishes saying his speech to the team, reo claps his hand against nagi’s back, making the latter wince. reo just hooks his arm around nagi’s shoulder, and you see his mouth moving and gesturing towards the direction of the bleachers when his purple eyes suddenly fall on you. sending reo a small wave, he waves back at you, albeit with more enthusiasm—which also made the girls surrounding you shriek. ah, right. you briefly think that you should start acting like you don’t know him in public, on the off chance that a crazed fan of his comes for your throat just for being involved with him.

nagi glances where reo’s line of sight is. you wave at him as well when your eyes meet, expecting him to just send one back in acknowledgment, but instead he starts jogging towards you. “you made it,” he breathes out once he's within earshot.

“i said i’d watch your game, right?” you playfully jab him on the arm, observing how his legs look way more toned than you’ve last seen. has he always been this fit? seems like all that training he begrudgingly went through has paid off. “lookin’ fresh in uniform, seishiro. sorry i couldn't make it to any practices though, i couldn't ditch my own club.”

nagi shrugs, feeling content since you still made it. he reaches into his pocket, fishing out his beloved device and handing it to you. “can you keep my phone with you? i forgot i had it in my pocket.”

after nagi gets back to his team, you end up sitting on the third row of the bleachers as you wait for the game to begin. you fiddle with the charm on his phone. he still has it attached (you make a mental note to ask him about it again later), and you notice how some of the colors of the black beads have faded. a cursory thought passes, where you wonder if it's due to age, or if he touched it too often that the oils from his fingertips have worn the surface off.

you're leaning more on the former hypothesis—you can’t imagine nagi getting sentimental over a handmade charm that’s mediocre at best. or anything at all, period.

a sudden bump on your shoulder causes you to break out of your thoughts. a deep voice hurriedly speaks out, “excuse m—”

“len?” out of all people, why is he sitting next to you?

you’ve barely seen your ex-boyfriend in the past three years. either he's good at hiding, or you're even less popular (or involved with anyone else who isn't nagi) than you think. to be honest, you've forgotten all about him, but you can still recognize his dark eyes and, annoyingly enough, even the scent of his cologne with just one moment of appraisal.

len looks at you, eyes widened and mouth agape, before he gets up and turns around, climbing up the stairs to find a different seat. you click your tongue, slightly ticked off that he ran away from you. again. okay, whatever.

just then, the referee blows the whistle, signaling the start of the game. reo gets the ball first touch, sneaking his way through defenders with his quick thinking and passes. you're impressed by his skill, but since this is the mikage reo we're talking about, you guess you should've expected it. the team moves accordingly, passing the ball back and forth between them, intensity already cranked up to the maximum so soon after it began.

well, mostly everyone is pumped up. nagi’s half-ass running makes you snicker, and you wonder if he's even going to do anything at all this match if his slouched, lethargic posture is anything to go by. but then you catch sight of his face when an opposing player comes up to him, his visage contorting from passive to mildly irritated. it's only a tiny change, hardly even noticeable, but since you've known him for so long you've gained a good understanding of these miniscule differences. you realize his opponent must have taunted him because now he's locked in, straightening up and dashing towards the penalty area.

for a pretty lax person, you wouldn't have guessed he'd be the type to be vindictive when provoked. most of the time, he does it unintentionally, showing off his unparalleled genius with barely any effort. the ball comes flying toward him, and it almost lands a few inches behind him yet he reaches it perfectly, twisting his body to trap the ball and swiftly kicking it to the goal in one fluid motion.

not even a minute in, hakuho scores a goal, and the world abruptly stops for a second.

absolute silence falls on the field, rendering both the opposing team and the crowd too stunned to speak or even move, save for reo who just beams at the prodigious striker.

“LET’S GO, SEISHIRO!”

the crowd subsequently erupts with deafening applause and cheers the moment they break out of their stupor, jumping out of their seats and yelling out what was that? in wonder and amazement.

nagi looks up as he hears your voice so distinctly clear from the bleachers. sure, he might have been a tad more zealous about that first goal, but it's not like it was a hard one to pull off—though you and everyone else’s reaction says otherwise, so he must've done something cool.

…still, is any of that really necessary? nagi likes that you've made it to his first ever official match, but you look as if you're one step away from joining the cheerleading squad and be his personal cheerleader. he watches as you cup your hands around your mouth, grinning widely at him across the field, and he thinks that you've never changed at all since middle school. you're always too loud, too forward, too bothersome, too annoying—

but that makes you, you. he wouldn't want it any other way.

for the rest of the game, hakuho dominates the match thanks to him and reo. at some point, the white-haired striker vaguely remembers his captain telling him about some sort of a hat trick, and that it was a really difficult move to pull off (not really) so he tries doing that just to show off a little. i mean, it's my debut, and you're watching, he reasons.

it’s over before he knows it, the score being an impressive 7-0. after the referee blows the whistle and the game ends, everyone explodes into cheers once again, nagi’s teammates huddling over, some jumping on his back and some even lifting him up.

“nagi!” reo cries out. “wow! i've never seen you worked that hard bef— wait, where are you going?”

when nagi glances towards the bleachers again, he sees you pushing past the other students, nearly hopping over them so you can get to the field, fueled by nothing but adrenaline and hype. he shrugs off his teammate's arms around him, making a beeline towards you. he doesn't even realize what he's doing, lured by the excitement and passion emanating from your presence.

“hey, what are you doing all the way h—”

“SEISHIRO, HELLO? that was so incredible, what the hell was that?!” you exclaim, launching yourself at him. luckily, he catches you just in time…unluckily, he underestimates your exhilaration, your tackle causing both you toppling down on the grass with you landing on top of him as he lets out an oof– as his back hits the grass. “you crazy bastard. i always knew you had it in you!”

from the corner of his eye, he sees reo’s head whipped in your direction, watching the two of you intently, but at the moment none of that matters. nagi still isn’t too good at reading people's emotions, but when it's displayed so clearly before him, your earnest gaze and a smile impossibly wide that your face must've hurt to hold that for so long, he realizes you make it easy for him to understand it this time with no room for any alternative perception.

strands of your hair fall against his face as you hover above him, and the afternoon sun is just about to set, creating a warm halo against your form, and nagi thinks you look as radiant as ever.

taglist: @yoimiya-lover @i2innie

SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE i got so busy irl 😔 taglist is open! just comment ^_^ (if im unable/forgot to tag you, pls lmk!!)

#blue lock x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x you

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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 2 months

Text

Familiar Faces

Tech x Reader

Summary- Techs death was not a reality you were ready for, you relied so much on his love. After months of grief, you find he might not actually be dead.

A/N- SPOILERS FOR TBB SEASON 3 EP 7. I know nothing is confirmed about Tech, but watching this newest episode has got my brain working overtime with fic ideas!

Word Count- 2,708

The cart creaked across the rail line, sending shivers down your spine. There wasn't much keeping all of you up. Inches from falling thousands of feet to your death. The clouds didn't help either, you couldn't see anything.

You fired away, missing most of the time. Everything was happening so fast. A mission gone wrong. Your thoughts were stopped by Hunter's yelling.

"Three ships inbound!" He informs, even when you saw nothing in the sky- you trusted him. He knew better than any of you.

Shortly you heard them coming, the roar of the engines were loud. Soon followed by it's blaster's shaking the cart.

"Tech we need power!" Hunter commands. You work on pure adrenaline and fire at the ships closing in.

One of them is shot down, but not before it knocks out one of the support hooks. You feel the ground shift down, leaning.

Like a breath of fresh air, you hear Tech's voice. Him yelling back "Echo, Now!" was enough to calm you.

"We're online!" Echo retorts. You can't help your grin rising. Finally, things were looking up.

Though, you didn't need Hunter to tell you three more ships were headed your way.

"Tech, hurry." You called out.

You and Omega blasted at one of the new ships, effectively destroying its wing. It crashed down in a black smoke.

From this black smoke a fourth ship came. It was too quick- it shot at Tech, who was still running towards you. He gave a yelp as he fell off the support beam.

Your eyes widened as you gasped, body craning to try and see him. He had a hard landing, but was standing to his feet on the falling compartment of the cart.

It rumbled and shook, about to crash down.

You ran to the back of the cart, trying to get closer. "Tech!" You watched in horror as he tripped back with the rest of the detached pieces.

His grappling hook barely caught onto a stray metal piece. His body bounced back at the tension. "Don't move! I'll pull you up." You tried to reach his line, but it seemed impossible without everyone toppling over into the abyss.

"I-I can't reach!" You called over comms.

"I will climb up, do not risk falling over." You nodded at this, forgetting he couldn't see you. He was more worried for you than himself.

"Come on Tech, hurry!" Wrecker booms, coming over to see what the status was.

You could feel Tech roll his eyes, "I am climbing as fast as I can!"

His grunts break your heart, he panted as he tried to pull himself up. Storm troopers still fired all around you. One of the blast forcing Tech to fall even further.

"Tech!" This time it came from Omega. Your heart was beating too fast to think and speak. You were so worried.

"Why aren't we moving?" Hunter asks Echo. "The cart is being ripped from the back."

The very cart Tech was holding on to for dear life.

You frantically looked to Hunter. "Wrecker, get him on board!" He instructs.

"No, you're too big." You push past Wrecker to take a step on the falling cart.

It creaked loudly, almost giving out. "NO! Don't!" Tech yells up at you. Your eyes connect through the ripped metal. "Any shift in weight could send both of these carts over."

Incoming ships shoot at Techs line, he dropped down again.

"You must sever the connection hinge. Now!" Tech says.

Your face falls. "Are you crazy! No, you'll go over!" Tears welled up in your eyes. There had to be another way.

Another creak and shift. You were almost thrown over by the rocking.

Tech gave out a heavy sigh. This time he spoke gentle, saying your name. "There is no time..."

"Tech, please no!" You begged. He pulled out his blaster, not looking away from you. He was going to sever the connection himself.

"No!" You screamed, desperate. Your tears were falling faster than ever.

"Plan 99... I love you" He started. With a deep breath you yelled, "Don't you dare!"

"You can't! Please!" You sobbed, still trying to get closer. You heard Wrecker straining behind you, he was trying to hold the falling cart up.

"When have we ever followed orders?"

A shot rang out, he fell.

A piercing scream erupted. You almost didn't recognize that it was your own.

Your instincts kicked in and you tried to leap down, like you could still save him somehow. Wrecker was too fast and caught you, his arm throwing you back into the safe cart.

"No, NO let me go!" You tried to fight off Wrecker, but he was far too strong. He pinned you down easily.

You were hysterical, arms wailing at anyone who kept you from jumping after him. Later, when you were thinking straight- you'd thank them.

"He's gone, he's gone!" You sobbed out, devastated. Your screams filled the air, shocking a few storm troopers close by.

Echo wired the cart to start moving and get everybody to safety.

That was months ago. Just the thought could bring you to tears. You had lost everything you felt the reason to live for. He was your everything. His incompetence for social queues, his punctual speech, his stupidly intelligent brain. All of it was yours, and now it was all gone.

A deep depression fell over you, the only thing driving you was Hunter and Wrecker. They inspired you how hard they fought for Omega. It warmed your heart in your worst times.

It hurt immensely when you heard his name, but it got easier to get out of bed. It got easier to smile again.

Eventually, you reconnected with Omega and started defending Crosshair. Something that was typically Tech's job... You knew you had to take on more responsibilities and make up for the time you were down.

You constantly wondered if Tech would be proud of you.

You and the rest of The Batch found yourselves helping Rex, then... escaping with Rex. An enemy assassin leading the Empire to us.

The nine of you hurried down a secret passage way, to a leach vessel.

The soft clicks of the steps soothed you in some wicked way, even when everyone was running for their lives.

"Stop!" Crosshair yelled out. You turned to look at him, he took a few steps back to look out a carved hole in the stone. "They are coming..."

Just then, a shot rang out. Another assassin hung from the inner walls.

Crosshair ducked behind the wall, "Go, I'll handle it."

The rest of the squad moved down, but you stayed. "I'll help."

That was until you peaked around the hole, getting a glimpse of the man. A rush a deja vu consumed you. Your breath quickened. Why was this man so familiar?

You pushed it down, you had already let your feelings get the best of you too many times. It can't happen again. You fired at him, Crosshair backing you up.

Crosshair put an explosive at the end of his shotgun, catching the man off guard. It threw him off the wall. The two of you headed to the ship.

A blast to the ship sent all of you crashing down. You briefly heard Rex sending Echo a message about an extraction.

Commotion ensued, but it all ended with you falling and getting a bad headache. Your helmet did not do much to cushion the hit.

The rest of the team was briefly recovering from the crash as well, but you had to get a move on.

"We've got attack shuttles inbound." Hunter noted.

"This way." Rex lead.

You traveled on foot in the woods, trying to lose the storm troopers. Fighting them off was light work. One however, stood out from the rest.

Crosshair proved your suspicions when he frantically turned around, gun raised.

"What is it?" Hunter questioned. He got his answer when the assassin shot at us.

With our numbers down and the assassin having the upper hand, Crosshair suggested "I'll draw his fire out. Get to the rendezvous."

You heard Omegas small voice through comms, "I don't like that idea..."

"Too bad." He responds, already crouched behind a rock to fire.

Looking at Omegas worried gaze, "Go, I'll make sure he doesn't get himself killed."

Omega nods at you, then joins Hunter's side. Crosshair just grunts in acknowledgement.

In truth, Crosshair didn't need you. Though, you both knew that Omega needed the peace of you fighting with him. Two verses one had much better odds.

You heard Rex commanding the rest of the squad to move out. You and Crosshair pursued the assassin.

He gave out hand signals, letting you know he was above you. You nodded, sneaking around.

The assassin saw you easily, perfect. He was distracted just enough for Crosshair to get a hit on him, knocking his balance off.

Your face dropped when the assassin recovered in record time, it was like he hadn't even been hit. He now caught you by surprise when he shot at your hand, you lost your weapon. Damn. All you had left was a blade, which you now grasped.

To your dismay, Crosshair had already taunted the assassin away from you. No doubt on purpose.

It took you a minute to find them, Crosshair had followed him to a waterfall. One with rapids at the bottom. The booming of the current was distracting.

You crouched down, keeping a low profile. Crosshair and the assassin fought vigorously. When you saw an opportunity, you jumped.

You tried to get your blade around his neck or at least cut his suit. The assassin was stunned for a second, giving Crosshair time to recover.

The man disarmed you, overpowering you in strength. You fell back with a thud, your helmet flying off. You scrambled to stand, but was forced to stay down because of a stray blast. It just missed your head.

The assassin seemed to know every single move Crosshair made. Like, he had studied Crosshair's fighting technique multiple ways, There was only one man who you knew did that, and he was dead.

The stranger knocked Crosshair to his knees, a gun to his head.

The man now looked to you, ready to dispose of you as well.

You sat up, but did nothing to fight back- fear of him shooting Crosshair.

He however, stopped in his tracks. You just stared, confused. He looked to you, maybe in disbelief?

He, not moving his gaze, stunned Crosshair. You were in shock that he didn't kill him... The thud of Crosshairs body made you jump.

You slowly rose to your feet, you somehow didn't feel threatened by the man anymore.

Now that you stepped closer to him, he stepped back. He seemed to be fighting with himself... Throwing his blaster as far as he could away.

His hands moved to grip the sides of his head, in pain. He stumbled back, head barred down. With a loud 'thud' he fell on his rear.

He scratched at his helmet, trying to take it off. Something inside of him wouldn't let him. He was in turmoil with himself.

Did you feel pity for the man? You slightly shook your head, baffled at what you saw. He was so vulnerable now, you should have killed him for what he did to Crosshair. At least Stun him.

You couldn't find it in yourself. He looked so confused with himself, so conflicted. Your heart wrenched, but why?

Your own actions shocked you, stepping closer to him. You lowered yourself to your knees, inches away. You were skeptical but determined.

He stopped his frantic movements when your hands moved to his head. He let you do as you pleased, frozen in place.

You kept your eyes on him as you gently lifted his helmet. You only got it up enough to see the mans eyes, a deep brown. That and his face structure was enough to tell you who it was.

The face you spent hours drooling over, embarrassing stares caught at, nights laying with. The very face you saw fall thousands of feet down to a cloudy abyss.

You gasped loudly, scrambling back. No, NO. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him...

Your reaction seemed to have broken him out of his haze. His helmet fell back down, covering his face. He, almost instinctively, moved to you. You were too shocked to fight back. He swiftly grabbed your wrist, pulling you up.

The grip was tight, you winced. The man realized his mistake immediately and loosened the grip. if he wanted to kill you, why was he worried about your wrist?

When you were sitting back up, the man reclined on his knees. He slowly moved his hands up to the helmet again, this time with more control.

He raised it completely off. It was him.

Both hands moved to cover your gaping mouth. How? HOW?

"T-Tech?" You called out, voice cracking.

He squinted his eyes and had one hand holding the side of his head in pain.

"You must take Crosshair and run, now." He ended by saying you name desperately.

"W-what? No, I am not leaving you. Tech, what happened? How are you alive!" You leaned to him, wanting nothing more than to hold and kiss him.

He moved back, your touch like fire.

"You have to go. I do not know how much longer I can hold off the chip. I do not want to hurt you." He looked at the ground, ashamed.

"You won't. I know you won't..." You moved closer again, resting a hand over his. You slowly moved it off of his head, holding it. He breathed hard.

"Any better?" You ask. "Yes, I would suspect my will to keep you safe overrided the new chip the Empire has put in my head." You smiled, finally leaning forward to hold him.

The second your arms wrapped around him, you sobbed. It all felt like a dream- well, nightmare.

"I thought you were dead... Tech, oh my Tech." He hugged back, petting your hair. You both frantically proclaimed 'I love you's.' But, he soon pulled away.

"I will not put you at risk any longer." He moved to stand up,

"I just got you back, why are you leaving me?" You couldn't understand.

He stood up, saying your name in a whisper. "I thought I made it clear. My new inhibitor chip is stronger. I am assigned to kill you. I do not want to do such a thing, ever."

"Tech, just please come with me. Rex is with us, he can help remove this one. Just like the others..." You grabbed onto his arm, pleading. How did he expect you to walk away, leave him behind. Especially when you just figured out he was alive.

"I suppose that might work..." He rested a hand to his chin, thinking. More tears flowed from your eyes, he was exactly how he was before. Always calm, always thinking everything through with a steady heart beat.

You looked up at him. "Please, I need you. I-"

"I know. I need you too. I uh- I apologize for shooting you." He said as-a-matter-of-factly.

Your eyebrows furrowed, "You didn't mean to.." You leaned up to kiss him, but something switched in him.

His face twisted and turned, he stepped back. He was fighting himself again, now a hand reached for his blaster. He looked up, face cold and blank. He pointed the gun at your face.

"Tech, Tech, it's just me!" He didn't care, he had a mission to fulfill. The chip was regaining control.

Suddenly, his body quivered and shook. He fell to the ground. Crosshair stood behind.

"Please don't kill him!" You ran to him, making sure he was aware of the situation.

"I know, his chip... I'll carry him back. Rex can look at him." You were hopeful, he was coming home.

It would be a rocky start, but he was alive. He was alive and half-conscious. That was a problem for when you got back on the ship.

For just a second, watching Crosshair hoist Tech up, you relaxed. The pounding of the water on rocks soothed you.

He was alive...

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I hated the ending, sorry ya'll had to go through that. I didn't know how to end it! I was so motivated with this plot, then kind of lost it. Expect a Crosshair fic this weekend!!!

Tags- (LMK if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

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