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#you’d think at that point they would stop sending kids out but
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Brown Eyes | A Mandalorian Imagine
Summary- Turns out, there’s so much more at stake than just life or death if you get injured
Length- short
Warnings- mostly fluff, mentions of injury
A/N- this just popped into my head so I of course had to write it out for you guys before I can sleep.
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You’ve been lucky. Real lucky. All this time spent travelling with him and the kid and you haven’t gotten injured once. Which is even more lucky when you think about what your travelling companion does for a living. Or at least that’s what you think to yourself as you now sit hold up in the hull of the ship, your hand holding tightly to the blaster wound at your side.
It was your own fault really. He had told you multiple times to not do wander off or let the kid roam around outside the ship when he was on missions like this- but did you listen… No of course not. It’s not like anything had happened the last 15 times you had let him stretch his legs and get some fresh air and Din had been none the wiser.
He had also told you before that people were looking for him and the kid, which was another reason to lie low, but you didn’t think the situation was a shoot on sight kind of deal. You had both just been enjoying the meadow Din had landed in and the nearby tree line when the first shot had burned its way through the side of a tree. Then came another- and another. You felt one of the blasts burn across your side, but you couldn’t stop, couldn’t acknowledge it. You just had to get out of there.
You had tried to shoot back, scooping the kid up in your arms and running for your life back to the razor crest. The moment you were through the doors you had closed the hatch and placed the kid safely in his cradle, closing the top for extra protection as blaster fire began to hit the side of the ship.
You had frantically began to press buttons to get it up in the air and away from them. As you just about cleared the tree line, the crest half protesting from your hasty take off, another beep, the beep of the coms, sent a new wave of adrenaline through your body.
“What’s happening? Why have-“
You don’t let him finish asking his questions. “They found us. They found the kid.” You quickly informed him. Although you were trying to block it out, you knew from the strained way you were talking he’d know you’d been hurt.
“Is he safe? Is the kid safe? Are you both safe?” He quickly asked through the com link.
“Yes.” You said quickly back, if not a bit breathily, as you fought to steady the ship in the air and move it away from the meadow and the wooded area, instead heading towards a mountain ridge, hoping it would provide some cover.
“I’m sending co-ordinates,” he said- and you could hear the beeping of him typing in the location to send to the crest through the com, “meet me there.”
“Okay.” You said, gritting your teeth against the pain in your side.
The adrenaline coursing through your body had been just enough to see you to the rendezvous point, a large cavern on the far side of the mountains. You just had enough focus to land the crest inside, shutting the engines back down, before climbing back down into the hull to check on the baby. When you opened the cradle, you weren’t surprised at all to find him sleeping in it, the stress of the situation exhausting him. Knowing he was safe though filled you with relief.
Finally safe, knowing Din was on his way, allowed you to finally relax. The only problem was, without the adrenaline coursing through you, you were becoming more and more aware of the pain in your side. You lifted your hand to cradle it protectively as you hobbled to a bench along the outer wall and sat yourself down.
You sneered as you took it in, all blood and charred skin. It made you light headed. And that’s where you were now, eyes closed, head tilted back, resting against the wall. Deep breathing your way through the pain trying to think of anything else to pass the time while you waited for Din to return. He’d know how to deal with this.
You must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew you were being jostled awake, a frantic voice calling your name between curses. It felt like a fight to open your eyes. They were so dry and heavy.
“Come on baby, I need you to wake up. Stay with me now.”
You felt him prod at your side and you let out a small groan as your head lulled heavily to one side. You just wanted to go back to sleep. It didn’t hurt when you were asleep.
“Fuck.” He groaned, his voice ragged and desperate.
As you continued to fight to get your eyes open, your body seemingly working completely separately to your brain right now, you heard his heavy feet begin to charge around the small space searching for what- you did not know with your eyes closed.
You felt him return to you, his hand resting on your thigh and you assumed he was resting on his knees before you. Knowing this was something you definitely had to see to believe, you finally fought to open your eyes. But it was difficult, they kept trying to close again, your head rolling from side to side as you fought to stay conscious, fought to look at him on his knees before you.
You knew his fingers were fumbling with something and you sneered as his fingers jabbed at the wound again.
“Uuuhhh owwwww.” You complained.
“Fuck.” He said again. “I can’t fucking see shit.” He complained.
Your eyes grew heavy again and you more sensed him lean away from you than saw him, but the sudden hiss of compressed air coming from his helmet had them seemingly fly open and you watched him lift the helmet from his head.
“Din-“ you groaned, but he didn’t respond. You watched him as he reached again for the med pack, getting out a pair of scissors and cutting away at the fabric of your top around the wound. He then grabbed a bottle of clear liquid, wetting a pad with it, which he then wiped carefully around the wound. Your eyes squeezed tight and you hissed in pain.
“Hold still now baby, hold still, I’m nearly done.” He says. Your only thought though is when did he start calling you baby?
There’s a reprieve as his hands move away again and your breathing starts to come back into your control. There’s a rustling sound of a packet and you open your eyes again to watch through blurry eyes as he removed a bacta patch from its packaging. You close your eyes and rest your head back against the wall again as he carefully lines it up, before sticking it down over the top of the wound.
You must have fallen asleep again, because when you wake next, you’re lying down on a cot with bandages wrapped around your middle. As you shift, the blanket placed over you shifts, exposing your skin to the cold air. You surmise you are back in hyperspace.
You pull yourself from the bed groggily. Your side still feels tender but it’s nowhere near as bad as it was, the bacta patch clearly doing its job. You slowly begin to follow the sounds of the kid’s babbling up to the cockpit where he is sat resting on Din’s knee. He quickly goes quiet when he sees you.
Din turns himself in his chair to check what he already knows. He’s relieved to see how much better you’re looking already. There’s more colour to you skin and the fact you are moving around speaks volumes to your alertness and body’s responsiveness.
But when you lock eyes on him your brain can only think of one thing. “You took it off.” You say, your eyes blinking at the vague memory as you take in his once again helmeted form in front of you.
“Yes.” He says as if it is merely just a matter of fact.
“You have brown eyes.”
“Yes.” He says again bluntly, clearly not wanting to give these facts more attention than they need.
You frown. “You called me baby.”
He’s silent then. There’s a long pause between you both as he turns himself away from you. “You scared me.” He says as firmly as he can. “Don’t do that again.” He says more strongly, but it just makes you smile.
For the first time since you boarded his ship, it’s clear to you he is able to care for someone other than the kid. “I won’t tell any one.” You reassure him.
He’s quiet for a moment- and you worry he’s not going to say anything at all- when he finally says, “Good.”
A few seconds later you’re dropping out of hyperspace and it’s like the whole ordeal never happened in the first place.
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egcdeath · 7 days
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life's a beach
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pairing: patrick zweig x reader request: @diorrfairy: i can't stop thinking about patrick x reader who's an introvert, kinda shy but with a fiery temper just like him. and she knows it's better not to get involved with guys like him but she can't help it. and he's constantly teasing her trying to get on her nerves like … summary: a chain smoking tennis player disrupts your day on the beach and uproots your entire summer vacation. word count: 6.5k warnings: enemies to lovers (kinda… the reader folds like a paper airplane pretty quickly), smoking, no use of y/n, low speed police (pool security guard) chase, mentions of smoking, brief mention of alcohol, so much exposition, vague descriptions of sports, some kissing, patrick and reader are spoiled rich kids author’s note: this fic definitely got away from me, but i hope that you all enjoy it! also, i apologize in advance for any characterization issues, since i’ve only seen the movie once. with that being said, i’m still taking requests if you want to send me anything!
For all your life, the beach has been your happy place. The soothing, repetitive push and pull of the water and the endless crashing of the tide was a guaranteed way to make your loud mind quiet down. Next to the endless ocean, you were just a tiny little dot–not a girl who was a golf prodigy, or someone whose parents' financial power caused everyone around you to treat you like a delicate doll. In fact, that was part of the reason why your parents purchased the lot in the first place, as you insisted that the comfort of a semi-private beach was necessary for you to properly enjoy your vacation.
That was also what made your smoking companion on the beach all the more jarring.
You were fully reclined on a beach chair and deeply immersed in the novel in your hands when you first caught a whiff of the strong, putrid scent, which immediately left you annoyed. Turning your head to follow the scent, your face somehow fell further when it fell upon the culprit of the foul cigarette smell. The side profile of a man who was about your age, casually smoking as he stared out at the body of water across from you.
Perhaps you had become so immersed in your book that you’d failed to realize that only a few steps away from you, someone new had joined you on the sand. After all, when you sat down just an hour ago, you were completely alone. Somehow, that managed to make your mood sour even more. There was all this space on the beach, yet this man decided to sit down right next to you and smoke a cigarette!
You were sure that you were gawking at him at this point, if at nothing else, his sheer audacity. When he finally seemed to sense your seething gaze, you quickly looked back at your book as if it was the most interesting thing in the world—despite you completely losing your spot.
After a moment of pretending to resume your reading, the stale scent of the cigarette had lessened, indicating to you that the man next to you had finally stopped. Good. Maybe your simple glare had been more effective than you realized.
But nearly as soon as a self-satisfied smirk could find itself on your face, the scent returned in full force. You practically had to physically restrain yourself from uttering, “Seriously?” aloud.
Seeing as your first passive aggressive attempt at getting him to stop was futile, you decided to pull out the big guns.
With your all but abandoned novel in hand, you curled your unoccupied arm around your mouth and began to cough profusely. You put all your might into pulling out the most atrocious sounds you could muster from your lungs, and when you decided you were satisfied with this passive aggressive approach, you glanced over at your beach companion, only to find him looking back at you.
With him looking straight at you, you felt your stomach trip over itself. You’d always been a sucker for pretty men, and with one pointed look, you were sure that this would be no different. Yet, armed with the knowledge that you were the one who started this, you willed yourself not to give in to someone with good looks and cigarette breath.
You continued to stare him down, hoping that you were coming off as intimidating, rather than swooning. Though, the longer the two of you glared at each other, you swore you could see his lips mold into the look of a smirk, particularly as he took a pointedly long drag from his cigarette.
It quickly became abundantly clear to you that he wasn’t interpreting your gaze to be anything near threatening—if anything, he saw it as a challenge. Unluckily for him, you were incapable of backing down to a challenge.
As soon as you opened your mouth to form some sort of sassy remark, you were surprisingly beaten to the punch.
“Want one?” he asked, the smirk unwavering on his stupidly attractive face.
“Ew,” you replied, then immediately regretted it. Seriously? Ew? That was the best that you could do? You would think that years of dodging and delivering verbal daggers over family dinner would’ve better prepared you for this moment, but leave it to you to be tripped up by a pretty face.
You paused for a beat too long before retorting, “You can keep your lung disease, thank you very much.” You readjusted the book in your lap, still not feeling completely satisfied with your reply, but anything was better than your first statement. “Maybe go smoke somewhere that’s not right next to me, like,” you paused to gesture to the widely empty beach. “Literally anywhere else.”
“I didn’t realize that you were queen of this strip of beach. My apologies, Your Highness,” he shot back snarkily. You swore you could feel your blood boiling as it pumped through your veins.
“I’m not saying you can’t stay here,” you could feel your volume increasing as more adrenaline pumped through you, “I’m just asking that you don’t smoke.”
You watched as his brows raised questioningly the longer you spoke. “Or at least, don’t smoke next to me,” you clarified, folding under the pressure of a set of rather piercing blue eyes.
“Fine,” he agreed with a shrug, to your surprise. That hadn’t been so hard after all. Maybe he wasn’t all that bad. You bit back the part of you that wanted to feel triumphant at your clear victory over this random, pain-in-the-ass man.
Once more, you pretended to read your book while in your peripheral vision you watched him grab his few items, including his box of cigarettes, and stand up to move. What you weren’t expecting to see was him plant himself just a few feet further from you, sit down, then begin to aggressively tap his box of cigarettes, just loud enough to grab your attention. Naively believing that he wouldn’t actually have the audacity to begin smoking again, you were slightly scandalized when he pulled a stick out and returned to happily chain smoking.
He briefly glanced back over at you, the smug look on his face telling you that he was eagerly awaiting your reaction. As much as you didn’t want to humor him, you clearly couldn’t hide your annoyance.
“Oh my god,” you huffed, grabbing your tote bag and towel and standing up to head back towards your beach house. Maybe the beach just wasn’t in the cards for today. At least that man couldn’t bother you in your sunroom.
——————
One of the benefits of owning and spending your summer at your vacation home was being able to have your friends stop by and spend a few days with you. Seeing as your parents were utterly uninterested in spending any of your summer break together, it was also nice that you were basically able to do whatever you wanted over the summer.
As a teenager, this mainly meant parties and intense summer flings, but as your time in college began to mature you and your friends, the novelty of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing began to wear off. What never seemed to wear off was your love for the local ice cream shop, with its sweet dairy scent lingering in the air and a waffle cone that was nothing short of to die for.
With one of your friends’ visits coming to an end, the two of you sat on the patio of this shop, racing against time and heat as you worked on your cones. In between gossip about which one of your classmates had to attend graduation with a baby bump, you caught your eye on someone exiting the shop to join you on the patio.
You practically had to hold back your groan as you processed who it was. Unfortunately, your enemy from the beach hadn’t felt nearly enough shame, and he openly waved at you.
Upon seeing your eyes wander, your friend turned around to see what it was that caught your eye. Just as quickly as she turned around to view the asshole, she turned right back to you with a newfound excitement.
“Oh my god, you know him?” your friend asked you, shock and elation written all over her face for a reason you couldn’t understand.
“Unfortunately,” you replied, taking a bite of a bit of exposed cone. “Do you know him? Did he go to your high school or something?”
She scoffed at your words as if you were missing the most obvious point in the world. “‘Did he go to my high school or something?’” she repeated in disbelief. “That’s Patrick Zweig. He’s about to go pro.”
You tilted your head and furrowed your brows, as if to ask for more context.
“In tennis? He’s like, the thing right now,” she explained.
“Maybe that’s why he’s such an asshole,” you glanced back over at him, only to find that he was unabashedly staring at you as he licked his own cone of ice cream. If you hadn’t had such a ridiculous encounter a week ago, you would’ve thought that he was being suggestive towards you.
“What happened that made him such an asshole?” she prodded, and you swore that she leaned forward as she asked.
“Please try to look a little less excited,” you laughed, entertained by your friend’s investment in your story about someone who was a celebrity in her eyes.
“Sorry,” she apologized disingenuously. “Go ahead.”
“Well, I was just trying to do some reading out on the beach, when he sat like, two feet away from me. Mind you, the entire beach was empty. He could’ve gone anywhere else.”
“Dick,” she interjected, though the unsubtle glance over in Patrick’s direction and her overzealous body language suggested to you that she might’ve meant the words less than she thought she did.
“Right,” you agreed. “But that clearly wasn’t enough. So he starts chain smoking. Right next to me.”
“Rude,” she added, doing her best to validate you as you told the story. Her ability to only add commentary in a monosyllabic manner was entertaining you, but you couldn’t focus too much on that now.
“So I called him out. I was like, ‘Hey, you dick. I know that you want black lung, but not everyone else does,’” you explained, embellishing your story to disguise your lackluster responses.
She giggled as you explained and you continued on. “Obviously, he was embarrassed that I called him out. So he looks me right in the eyes, and-“
“And what?” she asked, her eyes practically glimmering, as if you were about to tell her a story about some wild tryst that left you with a negative impression of him.
“Babe, I don’t think this story ends the way you think it does.”
“We’ll see,” she said with a shrug and a wink.
“Well, he got his ass up and started walking away. Internally, I’m celebrating. But then, he sits down pretty close to me… and starts smoking again. And he’s staring me down the whole time he does it.”
“Ugh! He is an asshole,” she shook her head as you wrapped up your story. “But like, isn’t he kinda…?”
“He could be the sexiest man alive and couldn’t seduce me with that personality,” you replied confidently, although you weren’t completely sure of your words.
“That’s certainly not stopping him from trying,” she glanced over her shoulder once more, where he was still looking at you while very intently eating his ice cream cone.
“Gross,” you replied, feigning a full-body shudder. “You couldn’t even pay me to go anywhere near him.”
“It’s probably for the best anyway. A friend of my friend said there was some super messy relationship drama with him recently.”
“Lovely,” you replied, trying your best to look and sound disinterested, but feeling curious regardless. “I feel bad for whoever has to spend any extended period of time with him,” you popped the bottom of your ice cream cone into your mouth, then crushed a paper towel in your hand. “Wanna head out?”
——————
After that, you truly tried your best to avoid Patrick. Like clockwork, he seemed to appear on the beach in your backyard during the late afternoon. You weren’t ashamed to admit that you had watched him through the windows of your bedroom more than a handful of times, and you could almost swear that his head was on a swivel, as if he were looking for someone before he settled into his spot.
Unfortunately for you, it felt like he seemed to pop up wherever you were. As you evaluated boxes of strawberries at the grocery store, you noticed him eyeing bunches of bananas not all that far away from you. Midway through a hike, you noticed a familiar set of distractingly muscular thighs and tried your best to hide, much to your friend’s confusion. While drinking a fruity cocktail at a bar, you noticed him and finished off your drink and threw down a bill at record speed.
You guessed that you never realized how small a town was until you were actively attempting to avoid someone. In a way, it was a little bit exciting to be dodging him so vehemently, though you’d never really admit that to yourself. At least, it was exciting until it became an utter annoyance, much like it was becoming at that very moment.
After you’d decided that you’d spent enough of your summer lounging around without practicing any golf, you decided to take it upon yourself to head to your local country club and take on the familiar course. Of course, you couldn’t play any golf without fueling up first, which left you in the restaurant of the club snacking on a cup of fries when you spotted the one person you had been trying desperately to dodge.
You averted your gaze down to your phone and acted as if you were reading the most interesting thing in the world, but not even that farce lasted long, as you were met with the sound of a chair scratching the floor across from you. You looked back up and were met with Patrick’s intense, searing stare.
“Are you following me, or something?” he asked, his brows furrowed at you as he looked at you with concern.
“What?!” you asked with disbelief. “You’re the one who keeps showing up around me and keeps licking ice cream seductively at me!”
“Seductively?” he laughed right in your face, and you could feel your face immediately warm up in embarrassment.
“Shut up,” you replied weakly, though you knew what you saw. “Who even are you?” you asked, despite now having the displeasure of knowing exactly who he was, thanks to your friend and a Google search.
He began to smirk, and it took everything in you to not want to wipe that smug smile right off of his face. “I’m Patrick, and you are?”
You introduced yourself while mentally berating yourself for the butterflies erupting in your stomach over his intent gaze. Unfortunately, Patrick was even better looking than you could’ve imagined up close, with sunkissed skin and freckles that seemed to go on for miles.
“Well if you’re not stalking me, what are you doing here?” he questioned, though it was clear from his crooked, goofy smile that he wasn’t being serious.
“I play golf,” you explained with a casual shrug, though the feelings you were having inside were far from casual. “So I’m here to do that. You?”
“I knew I’d heard that name before,” Patrick began before stealing a french fry from you and popping it into his mouth. “You won a championship recently?”
You nodded with what you hoped was a neutral expression on your face, hoping to brush him off despite the fireworks going off in your stomach and the heat returning to your face. Sure, it wasn’t the first time someone had recognized you for your accomplishments out on the golf course, but it felt different coming from him.
“I did,” you replied as casually as possible, not acknowledging his fry thievery or reciprocating your knowledge of his athletic achievements. It was always better to be more mysterious with the type of person who seemed to love the chase, and it seemed clear to you that Patrick was one of those people. “Anyway, I need to go practice so I can win the next championship.”
You pushed your unfinished dish of fries towards him and stood up before grabbing the golf bag propped up next to your feet. You pushed your chair in and didn’t even spare him a glance back in his direction as you walked away, secretly hoping to yourself that he was still watching you as intensely as he’d been watching you at the table.
You tried your hardest not to ruminate over your conversation and feelings too much, but as you walked out to the first hole, you couldn’t help but over analyze everything. The first and most confusing of which being your feelings towards Patrick. Clearly, you were attracted to him. Despite your terrible first impressions of each other and having what could arguably be described as a meet-ugly, you couldn’t pretend like his good looks and charming, yet cocky demeanor didn’t have an effect on you. It was clear from the way that the butterflies in your stomach decided to stop lying dormant every time he was in your vicinity.
What you still couldn’t quite place were his feelings towards you. It was obvious that he was getting some kick out of teasing you. Hell, it was obvious from the first interaction you had with him. And it seemed like he might be interested in you, based on the way he seemed to be magnetically drawn to you, and his less than appropriate treatment of his ice cream cone, which he could deny all he wanted, was definitely a shoddy attempt at flirting. Even your friend had noticed.
Just as you began to try to make sense of your previous interaction, you looked up to find a golf cart headed your way. The cart was manned by none other than the subject of your deep thoughts, and as Patrick got closer to you, you swore you could see a fiery excitement ignited in his body.
“Play with me?” Patrick asked once he parked, despite already being off the vehicle and reaching for his rented golf bag.
You paused for a moment, as if you were considering his proposition, despite you already knowing your answer. “As long as you don’t mind getting your ass whooped.”
You made sure to deliver on this promise, beating Patrick with ease. In a way, it felt like comeuppance for him being a nuisance towards you just a few weeks ago. But that didn’t mean your mini tournament was without its downsides for you. You tried desperately to fight the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl when he said something stupid and snarky, and to quiet your screaming brain during the many, many, times you corrected his stance.
What you were also surprised to find was that Patrick wasn’t all that terrible of company to keep. He seemed to know exactly what to say to make you laugh, despite your effort to be unimpressed with him, or how to throw you off right before you swung at a ball. More than once, you had to remind him that no amount of teasing would change the fact that he had a terrible score, but it certainly didn’t stop him from trying.
With your landslide victory clear and your game over, the two of you made your way back to the rental station.
“You definitely cheated,” Patrick commented as he put his equipment back.
“You’re such a sore loser,” you replied with a roll of your eyes and a laugh. You’d been doing a lot of eye rolling and laughing while playing golf with him, and it was oddly quite pleasant.
“I’m not!” he insisted, turning back to face you as if that would somehow prove his point.
“You are, though! You’re a dirty player, too. I don’t think anyone has ever come up behind me and yelled for me to focus before.”
“Whatever,” he dismissed you casually, “You would be eating your words right now if we were playing tennis.”
“Yeah?” you questioned with raised brows.
“Yeah,” he parroted back, taking a step towards you and locking that intense gaze on you once more.
Feeling bold, you matched his step forward, practically getting in his face. “Fine then. Let’s play.”
“Really?” he sounded shocked by your proposition, and looked utterly unintimidated by the fact that your faces were practically touching.
“Sure. There are some courts over by the pool,” you turned to look in the direction of the pool, taking that as an opportunity to step away from him. You feared what you might do if you stayed that close to him for any longer than you needed to. “Isn’t that what you came here to do anyway?”
“So you are stalking me?” he joked, referencing your earlier conversation.
You rolled your eyes once more. At this rate, your eyes were going to be stuck at the back of your head. “Do you want to play or not?”
If you were a beast on the golf course, Patrick was a sight to behold on the tennis court. The brief article you read online simply did not do the man across from you justice as he served balls at you that probably would have wiped your head clean off of your body if you had any slower reflexes.
While you were able to get a few good hits in, courtesy of the lessons your parents put you in before they realized that golf was your calling, none of them remotely compared to the man across the court.
But your embarrassing loss was rewarded by hearing the repetitive loop of grunts and groans from your competitor. It was somewhat of a miracle that you were able to keep it together without bursting out laughing or squeezing your thighs together. You were also handsomely rewarded by seeing those muscular thighs in action. To be completely frank, there were more than a few moments where you lost momentum due to distraction from Patrick’s good looks.
While Patrick had proved himself to be a sore loser while playing golf, he wasn’t a terrible winner. He only gloated about crushing you once the two of you had finished playing, but he did happen to revel in his win for the entire walk from the tennis courts to the locker rooms.
Surprisingly, you weren’t that annoyed by him. In fact, you were pretty sure that you were hovering around the feeling of endearment.
You sat out in the lobby, freshly showered and playing on your phone when a familiar presence joined you once more.
“Are you hungry?” Patrick asked you as he made himself right at home and sat down across from you.
Was he about to ask you out on a date?
“I could eat,” you replied, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach once more.
“Let’s get dinner, then,” he suggested, and you tried your best not to look too excited. He was asking you out on a date. What an unexpected turn of events.
“Sure. There’s a place just up the street if you want to walk?”
The diner was slightly further than you remembered it being, but the time passed by quickly as the two of you divulged stories of your sports accomplishments on your trek over. Over dinner, the two of you instantly bonded over a similar upbringing of wealthy parents who couldn’t really be bothered to raise you, and backgrounds in boarding schools that prioritized your athletic skills over anything else.
After spending way too long at your booth and working through a spread of food that would send a shiver down your coaches’ spines, your waiter finally stopped by your table with an exhausted look on their face.
“One check or two?” they asked you.
“One,” Patrick replied before you had the chance to pipe up. The waiter turned around without inquiring anything more, clearly tired of having to serve the two of you.
“Wow,” you said with a giggle. “Chivalry is not dead.”
“I’m single-handedly keeping it alive,” he joked right along with you.
Feeling emboldened by your day of camaraderie and teasing each other, you decided to ask something. “Does that make this count as a date, then?” you asked it as a joke, though you were genuinely curious about the answer. While you’d previously found yourself intrigued with his looks, you’d now learned that he was far more than that. It was safe to say that you’d developed a full-blown crush over the span of the day.
“Do you want it to count as one?” he asked almost earnestly, and despite the fact that you were sitting, you swore you felt your knees go weak.
You shrugged nonchalantly, but the grin on your face was anything but. Fortunately, he was wearing a matching grin, and you almost swore there was a dusting of pink on his cheeks. You buckled under his gaze, and looked down into your nearly empty cup of water. “Sure.”
“Then it’s a date,” he confirmed.
“It’s so hot,” you huffed as the two of you stepped outside and into the humid night.
“Wanna cool off at the pool?” he suggested after holding the door open for you.
“Wow, you just don’t want this date to end, huh?” you teased. “The pool is definitely closed by now.”
“So?” he replied.
“So you want to break in?”
“Why not?” he shot back.
You stared at him for a moment with a mostly blank expression.
“You’re such a bad influence. Let’s go,” you conceded, heading in the direction of the city’s pool.
Once the two of you arrived at the locked gate, you stood expectantly, waiting for the next part of Patrick’s plan. You didn’t have to wait for too long, as with a brief confirmation that you were ready, he hoisted you up and over the fence. You then watched as he flung his own body over the fence, and you bit your lip as you attempted to distract yourself from how that image made you feel.
With both of you on the correct side of the fence, you took it upon yourself to shuck off your clothes—save for your underwear–before you dipped your toe in the cold water.
“How’s the water?” Patrick asked as he approached you, taking his shirt and shorts off in the process. You tried your best not to ogle too much, but his six-pack was definitely staring at you. Yeah, you were definitely ogling, and he was definitely noticing.
“You tell me,” you replied, then pushed him into the pool without really thinking. You probably wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t just been caught looking at the man like he was a piece of meat, but you had been doing exactly that, and panicked.
After a moment, he resurfaced and spat out the water that he’d swallowed from your surprise movement. Yet, as he came back to the surface, he didn’t say anything to you.
You eyed him nervously while he began to approach you in the water, and you opened up your mouth to apologize just as you felt a hand wrap around your ankle. With a yelp, you were dragged down into the water, luckily dodging the ledge on your way down.
Coming back up, spat out the chlorinated water and coughed out what you’d swallowed. “I deserved that.”
“You definitely did,” he agreed, lightly splashing you with water from where he stood.
You splashed him right back, putting a little more effort in and splashing him with slightly more force. “But you also deserved that.”
“And why is that?” that overconfident look appeared on his face once more. Just twenty-four hours ago, if you’d seen that look, you’d probably want to knock it right off of him. Now, you were tempted to keep prodding.
“Because you were being a dick about smoking not that long ago,” you replied, getting a little closer to him and matching his look with your own confident gaze.
“Huh,” he hummed. “Fair enough.”
“So why’d you do it?”
“Who knows. Maybe I just really wanted a smoke. Maybe I wanted to catch the attention of the cute girl on the beach.”
“Shut up,” you replied with clear disbelief. “I like how you try to flatter your way out of every sticky situation.”
“I mean it.”
“So you thought annoying me was the best way to get my attention?”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
You couldn’t argue with that.
“What if I was allergic to cigarette smoke?”
“You weren’t.”
“What if I just didn’t react, then?”
“You did,” he said.
“Must’ve been fate,” you replied dryly.
“Must’ve,” he agreed earnestly. Immediately, you felt a tension in your chest, and you wondered if he felt the same way. You didn’t have a witty or sarcastic comeback, and his face was dangerously close to yours.
Unsure of what to do, you splashed him once more.
“What was that one for?”
For making me fall for you in the span of a day, you idiot.
You shrugged, unable to come up with a coherent answer with you realizing just how physically close the two of you were. Now that you were beginning to have a bit of clarity, you could hear the pounding of your heartbeat in your eardrums. Or maybe it was Patrick’s. With your bodies this close to each other, you couldn’t be too sure.
You wondered what was going through his mind, but if the quick glance to your lips and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he gulped was any indication of his thoughts, you were sure you were on the same page.
You found yourself in somewhat of a standoff as the two of you stood there, wordless and hearts pounding as you stood together in a freezing cold pool. You shut your eyes for a moment, and when you opened them, Patrick’s nose was practically pressing against yours. But just as you began to follow his lead, you were met with a blindingly bright flashlight.
“Hey!” a new voice yelled out, pulling the two of you out of your trance. “What’s going on here?”
Patrick’s eyes widened and you were sure yours did too.
“Shit, security,” you muttered to yourself as it occurred to you what was happening. The two of you immediately scurried to the side of the pool. “I don’t think they saw us, but they definitely heard us,” you whispered.
“Do you think you could outrun them?” he asked, matching your low tone as the light of the flashlight moved across the pool without
“What?”
“Come on,” he hoisted himself out of the pool and you did the same, trying your best to be quiet as the two of you grabbed your discarded clothes.
“Patrick…” you trailed off, glued to his side.
“Come on,” he repeated as he shepherded you to the fence. “I won’t let them get you. Now,” he gestured for you to come over so he could help you climb over again, and you did. As he climbed over, the security guard’s flashlight had finally caught up with the two of you.
“Hey!” the guard repeated, lunging in your direction just as Patrick made it over.
“Run!” you yelled at him as the two of you took off. All of that tennis training clearly paid off, as he was far faster than both you and the security guard.
“Get back here!” the guard shouted as he chased the two of you.
The two of you sprinted, your bare feet screaming at you as pebbles and sticks poked your soles. Running on pure adrenaline, you swore you could hear Patrick laughing as he ran ahead of you.
The two of you ended up by his car, parked safely at the country club. You desperately tried to catch your breath as you leaned against his car door, now completely sure that you’d lost the security guard who was chasing you.
“I hate you so much,” you got out in between panting heavily.
“No you don’t,” his chest rose and fell quickly as he corrected you.
“No I don’t,” you confirmed, taking satisfaction in hearing his heavy breaths next to you and knowing that you weren’t the only one affected by the chase.
It felt as if the two of you had been transported right back into the moment you were having in the pool, a heavy, undeniable tension settling over the two of you, with the adrenaline of the chase and your hearts still rapidly pumping blood from all that running. It was almost as if one second you were standing next to each other, and the next you were pinned up against his car door, kissing like your lives depended on it.
With one of his hands up your shirt, you somehow found the willpower to use the logical part of your brain. “Wait, stop,” you reluctantly said as you pulled away for air. “I don’t want another security guard chasing us.”
“They won’t,” Patrick insisted before leaning back in to kiss you.
“They will,” you disagreed, exerting all of your willpower to dodge his advance. “Take me home?”
Patrick’s hand sat securely on your thigh for the entire ride back to the beach house. With the tension between the two of you crackling and the excitement of successfully running away beginning to die down, the two of you were mostly quiet on your way over.
After he pulled into your driveway, he looked over at you with hesitance. If you didn’t know any better, you might even say that he looked a little nervous.
“Wanna come inside?” you broke the ice, knowing that was what he was surely thinking about, and just as you predicted, he seemed to light up at your invitation.
The heat of the moment seemed to have passed, with the two of you now safely in your home, and not coming off the heels of being chased down the street. Patrick sat on your living room couch while you poured two tumblers of a criminally expensive whiskey.
You returned to the living room and sat down on the far end of the couch, passing him one of the cups before extending your legs out. You were pleasantly surprised when he positioned your legs over his lap and began to soothingly rub up and down your calves.
“What a day,” you sighed, taking a long sip from your cup.
“You’re telling me,” he chuckled in response.
As you laid there, you realized that you were actually quite exhausted. A silence settled over you once more as you yawned, then Patrick yawned not too long after you.
“You know, you’re nothing like I expected you to be,” he said randomly.
“Oh?” you replied questioningly. “Should I be offended or flattered?”
“Up for interpretation,” he looked over to you to gauge your reaction, and you playfully pushed his thigh with your foot.
“Then I’m gonna interpret it in a good way.”
“I meant it in a good way,” he said after a beat.
You smiled softly as you peered at him. “I didn’t expect you to be like this, either. I actually had a lot of fun beating you in golf and running from security guards.”
“No way you’re still talking about golf after I absolutely demolished you in tennis,” he laughed, a sound that you’d grown rather fond of throughout the day.
“It was pretty amazing watching you play golf with such bad form. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone use that many strokes on that course.”
“You wanna talk about bad form?” Patrick laughed again. “It’s a miracle you didn’t pull something when we played tennis.”
“Hey! My form is not that bad. You know I was in tennis lessons as a kid, right?”
“And how long ago was that?” he probed, looking at you with a suspicious raise of a brow.
You tried your best to do some mental math, but you were far too tired to be precise. “I mean, it was a while ago…?”
“Clearly,” he shook his head.
“Rude,” you replied, though your tone carried across you not really caring. “I’m still here for a few more weeks. Maybe you could teach me.”
“Only if you teach me how to get better at golf. I’m gonna have to impress my fellow board members someday.”
“Deal,” you agreed. Part of you wanted to leap for joy after establishing that this wasn’t some sort of one-and-done thing, and that you could at least see Patrick until you went back home.
You watched as he leaned further against the couch and tilted his head against the cushioned back of the piece of furniture, his eyes fluttering shut as he did so.
“Want to go sleep on a real bed? The guest room is clean,” you offered.
“No, I’m comfortable here,” he yawned and patted your calf. You didn’t believe him in this slightest, with his long limbs and less than ideal sleeping position. But you were quite comfortable, so you didn’t bother with insisting he leave the couch.
In the morning, you woke up in the same position that you’d fallen asleep in, with your legs draped over Patrick’s lap as he sat up and snored.
You did your best not to disturb him as you got up and went about your morning routine, taking a shower and changing into something comfortable before heading back downstairs. You were surprised to find Patrick somehow still upright and asleep on your couch, but you didn’t question it too much. It had been a long day and night.
You brewed some coffee in the kitchen, making sure to leave a portion for your guest, before you grabbed the book you’d been reading and headed out to sit on your portion of the beach.
You’d lost track of time while sitting out there, listening to the sound of the ocean and getting caught up in the contents of your book. In fact, you’d gotten so lost in your book, that you hadn’t even noticed that you’d gained a presence on the beach.
After Patrick cleared his throat, you turned to look at him. A smile grew on your face as the two of you locked eyes, and you scooted to the left on your oversized beach chair. Surely, there was enough space for both of you.
He took your invitation and sat down next to you, glancing between you and the ocean as he settled in. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and occasionally peered down at your book, but otherwise didn’t bother you. The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, your chests rising and falling in sync with each other as the two of you lost track of time.
Maybe Patrick wasn’t such a terrible beach companion after all.
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targaryenluvs · 2 months
Text
YOURS TRULY
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pairings: dark!luke castellan x fem!reader, dark!percy jackson x fem!reader
summary: with one demi-god on your tail, you try your hardest to make your escape. but with two? they’re both no where near willing to let you go.
warnings: obsession, possession, stalking, implied kidnapping, sexual implications
a/n: look who decided to write again!
Icons not mine, credits to the owner!
it wasn’t hard for him to find you again. a given, he would track you down to the ends of tartarus as long as you wound up where you were meant to be.
by his side.
at first he’d been disappointed in himself when he fell for you. luke thought himself above that, thinking that he’d devoted himself entirely to his cause. but maybe being around so many kids for so many years caused him to soften in places unknown.
because when you’d limped into camp, collapsing in the strawberry fields and sending the the place into a tailspin, he found an eerie sense of peace with you. the words and thoughts in his heads were drowned out the second you looked up at him.
“it’s- it keeps- it’s chasing me.” his hand came down to your stomach, a lash ran across. not too deep, barely half a centimetre perhaps less. luke immediately picked up his sword in defence of you, waiting for the monster to show. meanwhile the other kids were either running for chiron and mr d or gearing up themselves.
there was no way they were missing the chance for kleos.
but the monster was already subdued, as percy walked out dragging a head along with him. “order to go?” you couldn’t help the smile that came across your face at his words. but luke didn’t like it, how the hell had percy beaten him to it?
over the next few months you found yourself in between the two of them, fighting for your attention. even if it was just for a minute. during the capture the flag you found yourself rotating teams every time since apparently the other promised victory every time. but you knew if you only focused on one of them the other would be angry.
everyone else at camp found it hilarious. two of the most well known campers competing for someone who apparently couldn’t care less. you just wanted to be at camp with your friends.
but what you didn’t know was that they were actively working against each other.
“nice sword skills jackson, a scarecrow teach you?” luke laughed as percy sighed, “your insults are weak castellan, so are your own skills.” luke raised his eyebrows, he was one of the best swordsman around in a long time. they both were one of few who saw the real sides to them, the jealousy and the arrogance. all because of you.
it got so intense to the point that you knew you needed to run. they were hurting eachother constantly, all for your approval, and even threatening your own siblings at times. to the point where they slowly began to distance themselves when the two were around. whether they’re excusing themselves for the bathrooms or just blatantly upping and leaving.
“hey y/n, how are you?” your spoon froze mid air as you heard percy’s voice, a quick glance at your siblings and you could see the fear. “guys, you mind giving us a second?” all your sibling at the table were younger than you and more than happy to leave, “i’m doing fine jackson. you?” you couldn’t be any shorter with him yet he always engaged himself in conversations with you. even when you were clearly uninterested.
“i’m doing amazing, now that i’m talking to you.” you flashed him a smile before getting up with your tray, “that’s nice, i’ll see you around.”
percy watched as you walked away, until he heard the voice he dreaded. “left alone are we?” luke joked whilst sitting down in the spot you’d occupied not too long ago. “shut up. she barely talks to you.” luke smiled, “well, when she’s with me we don’t do a lot of talking.” if looks could kill, luke would be a goner. “stop it.”
“bet i could catch her before you.”
“you’re slower than me let’s be realistic jackson.”’
“you wanna bet?”
and that’s exactly how you ended up here, knee-deep in the creek with either boy on each side of you. “will you just leave me alone? what is wrong with you!” luke’s face was cold, his grip on his sword was more than enough to make your heart race. “just come out and let me talk to you.” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at percy’s words, “why would i? it looks like you wanna kill me!”
“no!” luke’s shouting caused you to stumble back, “i mean— i would never hurt you.” he took a step forwards as you pointed your spear, “stay back!” unfortunately, you’d been so busy fending off luke you’d forgotten about percy to your left. you screamed at the top of your lungs when his arms came around you.
“hey, quit it.” luke whispered as his hand came over your mouth. “i don’t want to hurt you.” you’d be damned if you went quietly, so you shook and writhed. trying your hardest to get away, and luke had a short temper when it came to you. his sword came across your head, knocking you out cold. “what the hell!” percy yelled as you went limp in his arms. “she’ll be fine, now let’s get going.”
as they walked with you, either one couldn’t help but think, when they’d get rid of the other.
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lovableapocalypse · 1 year
Text
feels like
bradley "rooster" bradshaw x fem!reader
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wc- 2k
warnings- mentions of pregnancy/being pregnant, vomit/throwing up, like one f bomb, established relationship, i dont think anything else
a/n- reader is a pilot lol. hope you all like it and send me any requests you wanna see!!!!
You were tired of vomit. Tired of the smell, tired of the nausea, and tired of the harsh sting it was leaving in the back of your throat. The past three days you had been pulled to consciousness by your uneasy stomach and ended up over the toilet as your alarm blared from the bedroom. 
Bradley has had to leave for training extremely early this week and luckily has missed your ugly morning wake-up call. You’d been subtly avoiding his concerns at work; when you looked queasy after conditioning, when Jake’s body wash scent made you gag, and when you barely touched the coffee he brought you one morning. You played it off as a stomach bug, but your intuition was telling you something completely different.
Thankfully this week had been a zero flight week. You were terrified of flying if your suspicions were accurate, but you were also too scared to take the damn pregnancy test. 
As you walked down the hall Friday afternoon, doing your best to avoid everyone, you made a pact with yourself that you would stop by the convenience store tonight. Bradley was staying late to help with new flight curriculum so you’d have the opportunity to do it alone. 
Part of you wanted to share this moment with him, but your fear quickly overrode that. You and Bradley had been together for years at this point, ever since your first run at Top Gun. He’s mentioned kids a couple times, but never seriously. Deep down you knew he would accept this and be 100% in it, but your anxiety was on blast and your logical thoughts were nowhere to be found. 
You were supposed to be heading to a group meeting, all Dagger Squad members present. Your nausea has been steady all day, and hasn't eased up since you puked your guts up first thing. It’s been miserable and your sweaty, pale complexion are a testament to that. You’re trying your best to take deep breaths as you walk through the humid hallway, but your stomach lurches anyway. You grip the wall nearest to you and clench your eyes shut. 
Deep breaths. In and out. You wait for the pain to subside before you start walking again. You slowly enter the conference room, looking around. Last one here, great. You shoot a small smile in apology and head to the empty seat next to Bradley. 
He gives you a quizzical look as Maverick begins a spiel about next week's itinerary. 
“You okay?” He whispers, brown eyebrows pinched. 
You inhale sharply and nod, reaching for his hand to squeeze in reassurance. He squeezes in return and tries his best to keep his attention on Mav, but your squirming is distracting. It’s too hot in this cramped office space. You swear you can feel each person’s body heat radiate off them, making your head spin. 
Breaths. Deep freaking breaths. You’re trying to concentrate once again on your breathing as Phoenix asks a question, but everything is muffled and distant. You feel Bradley’s eyes seer into you and your jaw clenches unbearably tight. 
This is not happening. You refuse. You’ve made it the whole week without getting sick at work, and you really don’t want your closest colleagues and friends to see you hurl in a tiny trash can. Bradley squeezes your hand tighter trying to grasp your attention, but you just stare ahead and will your body to stop. 
Fuck. There’s definitely no stopping it. You shoot to your feet, pulling your hand from Bradley’s, drawing everyone’s attention. You briefly hear Mav ask if you’re alright and your hand quickly shoots to cover your mouth as you stumble to the trash can. Your stomach empties and you cough harshly, bent over the small container. You hear chairs screech and boots on the ground and soon feel a familiar hand slide up your back. 
Bradley pulls your hair away from your face with his other hand and continues to rub your back, glancing around the room in concern. Phoenix and Bob shoot him sympathetic looks and Jake’s grimace is clear as day. 
Mav makes his way over to you, cautiously, and shouts at Javy to get a medic. You raise your hand and wave at him, trying to refuse. You cough again, “I’m fine. I’m okay.”
“You just puked y/n.” Bradley states. 
“I know, I know. I’m sorry- just I’m okay now.”
You slowly stand up and Bradley keeps his grip on you, moving you towards a seat. You glance up, cheeks flushing in embarrassment, and see the sympathetic looks sent your way. “Sorry,” You sigh.
Javy returns out of breath with the medic and you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Really, I’m fine.”
“Y/n I think you should go get checked out,” Maverick says, “Rooster, why don’t you go with her.” He nods his head towards the door and motions for you, Bradley, and the medic to leave the conference room. 
Bradley keeps his grip on your elbow as you walk slowly toward the med bay. The medic is asking you basic questions that you are trying your best to answer as vaguely as possible. When you enter the med area you begrudgingly let the medic take your temperature and check your vitals. 
“Everything looks okay. I’d just get some rest and head to urgent care if your symptoms get any worse.” 
You’re grateful the medic didn’t mention pregnancy and you nod in appreciation as they exit the small exam area. 
Bradley sighs and places his hands on his hips. “Let me take you home, honey. Get some sleep.”
You shake your head, “No Roo it’s okay, I promise. You have to stay late anyway.”
You’re avoiding his gaze as a lump forms in your throat. You’re not sure why you feel so emotional all of a sudden, but with barely any sleep and vomiting up everything you eat, you’re exhausted. You feel tears prick your waterline as Bradley steps closer to you. 
He reaches up and cups your face. It wasn’t always like this. You and Rooster are both stubborn to an unhealthy degree, and when you two got off on the wrong foot all those years ago you never imagined this. He rubs his thumbs over your cheeks, examining you with his eyes. 
“What’s going on? You’ve been off all week.” His voice is soft and it only makes you more emotional. 
You close your eyes and feel the first tears escape down your face. “I think I’m pregnant.” You whisper.
You keep your eyes shut as you hear him inhale. He grips your face tighter, willing you to open your eyes. When you finally open them, he’s smiling. 
“You’re pregnant?”
You shake your head, “I’m not sure yet. I haven’t taken a test yet, but I’ve been sick all week and I can’t remember when my last period was.” You sigh. 
His smile only grows. Of course he would be excited. You’re not sure why you were convinced he would be pissed or upset. His reaction only makes you cry more and he tugs you closer into the warmth of his chest. 
He presses a kiss to the top of your head and steps back, helping you off the exam bench. “Let's go home, yeah?” He asks. 
You nod solemnly and thread your fingers through his, heading to the exit. Bradley lets Mav know you’re sick and he’s taking you home, planning to finish the flight course next week. He helps you into his Bronco and secures your seatbelt for you. He kisses you lightly before closing the door and heading around the car.
On the way back to your shared place he detours to the nearest convenience store and parks out front. Turning to you he says, “I’m gonna run in and grab a few tests. Do you want to come in?”
You shake your head and lean back against the seat letting it absorb your exhaustion. He’s quick inside and jogs back out to the car with a full bag.
“I didn’t know which one to get so I just grabbed a bunch.” He pulls a few out to show you and you laugh at his eagerness.
He smiles at you and places the bag in the back seat, squeezing your knee as he starts the car again. 
He turns the radio on low as you watch your surroundings pass by. You don’t know how to feel about all this. Are you even ready to be a mom? You glance at Bradley and take in his tanned skin and light blush covering his nose and ears. He’d be a great dad, you already know it. 
You try to shake off some of your anxiety as you head inside. Bradley pulls you close and squeezes your arm, sending you a reassuring smile. You exhale and turn to him, “Will you take it with me?”
“Of course.” He nods and rubs your arm gently. 
You head towards the bathroom with the bag full of tests and Bradley fills a cup of water for you. You’re examining all the different tests when he enters and comes up behind you. He rests his head on your shoulder and reads the boxes with you. 
You grab the test with the electronic Pregnant or Not Pregnant answer and a generic 2 line test as well. Bradley sits with you the whole time anxiously squeezing any part of you he can touch. You place the tests near the sink and set a timer on your phone. 
You both sit in a comfortable yet tense silence. You can tell Bradley is more excited than you are but he’s doing his best to keep himself calm. The phone rings cutting off your anxious thoughts and you both stand together to look at the results. 
You grab the line test first seeing two very visible solid lines. You quickly grab the other which coincides with a bold Pregnant flashing at you. You close your eyes and pass the test to Bradley, feeling the waterworks begin. 
He gasps slightly and puts the test back on the counter. He laughs as he turns you to face him, “Hey, hey it’s okay. Everythings gonna be fine,” You can hear the smile in his voice as your tears fall faster. 
“We’ll figure it out, okay? Hey, look at me.” He cups your face again, your eyes opening to meet his. 
“We’re gonna figure it out.” His smile spreads, “We’re gonna be parents holy shit.” You laugh at his excitement and pull him into an embrace. 
“We’re gonna be parents.” You mumble into his shirt. 
The next morning you head to a local clinic just to get a medical test and see if everythings okay with the baby. You’re given the all clear and relative timeline of birth and growth and everything seems so surreal. Bradley is beyond excited and it’s starting to rub off on you. He spent the whole night reassuring you and brainstorming possible names. 
The doctor did let you know that flying is off limits. You feel a bit sad at the loss of flying, but know Mav will keep you busy in other ways. You keep reminding yourself this as you head to his office Monday morning. Bradley and you are hand in hand, him excited to break the news. You knock and hear a muffled “Come in” on the other side. You exhale and squeeze Bradley’s hand as you push the door open. 
“Hey y/n, Bradley.” He nods. “Feeling better?” He places the paperwork he was looking at down and looks between you both. 
You glance to Bradley who quickly nods his head, urging you on. “About that.” You turn back to Mav’s confused expression continuing, “Um, Bradley and I actually have something to tell you.”
Pete remains silent, questioning you both. 
“I’m, uh, not gonna be able to fly for a while.”
His brows furrow, mouth opening to object, but you beat him to it. 
“I’m pregnant.”
His mouth drops in shock and Bradley laughs at his expression. 
“I- I mean wow. Holy shit!” He laughs. He stands and rounds the desk pulling you into a tight hug and then Bradley. He shakes Rooster’s shoulders as he pulls away and his face is ecstatic. 
“I’ll be damned,” He looks between you both again and shakes his head. You glance at Bradley and smile.
Bradley’s grin is contagious and he shouts, “We’re gonna be parents!”
1K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 6 months
Note
So, obviously you don't gotta do this request if you are not comfortable, and you can totally delete it, don't feel like you gotta, really.
I was wondering if, you could write some like angst-comfort-fluff type thing with poly!marauders? Where they have been dating reader for a hot minute now, but during (and long before they started dating) reader has been on-and-off cutting herself? And the boys don't know?
Like I said you do NOT have to write this, and just like any request do NOT feel like you EVER have to write a request.
Have an amazing day <3 <3
Hi lovely! I appreciate the disclaimers. I was a bit hesitant to do this because I feel like I'm not always sure where the line is between comforting/validating people who experience this and inadvertently glorifying self-harm, but I hope the general message of getting support and help comes through. Thanks for requesting and hope you're having a good week <33
cw: self-harm scars, mention of current self-harm
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words
James doesn’t see so much as feel them, hands roving under your clothes as has become his favorite pastime when you’re both feeling lazy. A series of neat, raised lines starting at the skin of your hip. Curiosity moves his hand upward, following the rows up to your waist. It’s impossible to tell how many there are. They just feel like vague ridges to James’ touch. 
His heart takes on a too-familiar heaviness, and he strokes the lines absentmindedly as he thinks of what to say. 
In the end, he doesn’t have to. You’d been on the precipice of sleep, your form lax between James’ legs, but suddenly you’re startling, an almost imperceptible jolt and your hand covering his own. 
“What’re you doing?” you ask dazedly. 
You sound panicked, and James hurries to placate you. “Sorry, I should have asked before touching you there.” Your alarm attracts Remus’ attention, and he peers over the top of his book from where he sits on the opposite end of the couch. James isn’t sure what to do. He wonders if you’d want this to be a private conversation (based on the fact that you haven’t brought it up yourself, he doubts you want it to be a conversation at all), but he can’t just not mention it and have you think he doesn’t care. He does what he can to keep the wariness from his voice. “Do you want to talk about it, lovely?”
Remus lowers his book as you slide down James’ torso, shrinking yourself. “Talk about what?” he asks, concern already infiltrating his tone. 
James won’t speak for you. You’re quiet for a few long, heavy moments, and he can feel you growing tenser with each one. Finally, you say, quietly so that Sirius can’t hear from the kitchen, “It’s okay. I was going to tell you at some point.” 
“Tell us what?” Remus asks again. 
James sends him a look that begs for patience, bringing his hand to your shoulder to knead tenderly at the taut muscles around your neck. “Okay, thank you sweetheart. Would it be alright if I pulled your shirt up a little?” 
He knows he’s handling you in that extra-gentle way that sometimes frustrates you. You resent kid-gloves, and he can’t tell for certain if this situation is an exception or if you’re just too embarrassed to say anything. You only nod, and James pinches the hem of your top between his fingers, bringing it up to just below your ribs. 
The lines look thinner than they’d felt against his fingertips. Remus sets his book down, forgetting to save the page as he leans forward, palm moving up your leg as if to keep you in place while he looks. He fingers the waistband of your shorts, looking to you for permission before drawing it down until the lines stop where your hip bleeds into your upper thigh. 
“When—” He swallows, voice painfully quiet. “When were you going to tell us?” There’s a sound from the kitchen which signals Sirius has finished preparing his snack. 
Your eyes are almost frightened. James can tell there’s a myriad of placations vying to be the first to leave your tongue, but what makes it out is  “Please don’t be mad.”
“Ooh, what do we have?” Sirius hears and comes running at the first whiff of trouble, perching on the armrest and sidling up to Remus. “A secret tattoo or—” You turn your hip into James’ thigh, and he doesn’t try to stop you, but you’re too slow, and Sirius’ voice seems to run out of air. Usually mirthful gray eyes flit up to yours looking almost betrayed. “Baby.” The word sounds as if it’s been hooked from some wretched part of him and dragged forcibly out. “When did…how long has this been going on?” 
James can feel your ribs expanding and contracting faster as your breaths come quicker. You feel cornered. He puts his hand over the marks on your waist protectively, and you flinch. 
“Hey,” he shushes you. “You’re alright, darling. Nobody’s upset with you, okay?” He lets his eyes flit up to meet the other two boys' warningly. Okay? “We’re just a little worried.”
“I’m sorry,” you say, and your tone is so fraught James’ heart very nearly shatters. “You don’t need to worry about me.” 
“We don’t mind worrying, love.” Remus’ voice is still quiet, but the gentleness in it is more apparent now. “But whatever you’re comfortable sharing, we’ll take it. Has this been going on a long time?”
You nod. James begins stroking up and down your side. 
Remus’ lips pinch, but he doesn’t waver. “Is it still going on?”
Your shoulders stiffen and your breathing stops. James’ insides fill with concrete, but he forces himself to peer around the back of your head to see your face. You’re biting down on your lip, hard. 
“Even now?” Sirius sounds devastated. Remus reaches behind him, setting a pacifying hand on his knee. 
Silver lines your eyes, but you take a slow, shuddering breath, and your voice comes out calm. “I’ve almost got it under control,” you say. “I’ve slipped up a few times, but…but I’m working on it.” 
“Alright,” Remus replies, giving Sirius’ knee a squeeze and you a kind, if thin-lipped, smile. “Is there anything we can do?” 
You shake your head immediately, but Sirius shoots you a look. “Don’t,” he says, and his voice is so uncharacteristically stern that even James startles, hand faltering on your side. It’s quiet as Sirius can manage, though still strained with emotion. “Don’t try to shelter us by keeping it to yourself. There have to be things we can do.”
James recollects himself, wrapping both arms around your middle and drawing you closer until the back of your head rests against his collarbone rather than his stomach. “Maybe,” he suggests, “you could let us help by telling us when you think you might slip, and we could try to find ways to distract you. Does that sound alright, lovely?”
You turn your head to look at him, and James steals a selfish kiss to the skin just near your eye. The corner of your lips twitch, and he hits there too, the little peck aiding the spread of your smile.
“That might help,” you say, quiet, tentative. Your smile fades as you turn your gaze to the other two boys. Sirius’ eyes have gotten stuck again on the scars lining your side, but he looks up when you speak. “Are you…do they bother you?”
Remus’ eyebrows stitch together, but he lets Sirius answer. The raven-haired boy looks almost surprised. “The marks?” he asks you, and despite James’ sympathy for the shock of all this, he sort of wants to kill him. He couldn’t make it easy on you, could he? Your hand finds James’ where it rests against your side, fingers worming between his, and he gives them an encouraging squeeze. You nod. “Baby, of course not,” Sirius says, ardent, and James swears he can feel you relax against his chest. “It bothers us—it bothers me that you’ve been upset, and that you’ve been dealing with it by yourself for so long, but I couldn’t give less of a shit about the marks. I care about you, your pain, not how it—how it looks on your body.” 
“I agree,” Remus says, smiling a little as he pats Sirius’ knee like settle down. “Honey, so long as you’re doing what you can—and letting us do what we can—to help yourself feel better, the scars don’t matter.”
“Thanks.” Your voice is quiet, but more bashful now than ashamed, which James considers to be some improvement. “It’s just awkward to talk about, you know?”
“It’s not,” James tells you. “Or, it doesn’t have to be. Listen, we don’t have to talk about it like, every day, but you should be able to tell us when you’re feeling down, okay?” You rest your head against his shoulder, and it feels nice, but James gives you a playful little jostle to let you know his question wasn’t rhetorical. “Okay?” 
“Yeah, okay.” The words leave you in a sigh, and Sirius rolls his eyes amusedly while Remus watches you with a knowing look. You were on the brink of a nap before, and the weight of this conversation has thoroughly tuckered you out. 
“Good,” James says, mock stern as he tucks his chin into the juncture of your neck. Wordlessly, Remus pulls Sirius down from the armrest and into his lap, picking up his book again. Your breathing slows, and James’ thumb strokes at your side underneath your shirt, indiscriminate between smooth skin and scars.
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saddestsquid · 6 days
Text
The Red Means I Love You ❤︎
Summary: Jason Todd x fem!Reader. You and Jason used to date before you left to stay with the Titans. You both miss each other more than you’d like to admit, but stay out of contact. Fast forward to after he died, you encounter Redhood. Old feeling stir, and before you know it you’re bent over the motorcycle of someone you swore you’d leave in the past.
Warnings: Angst -> smut, 18+, p in v, unprotected s$x, mentions of death & terrorism.
A/N: This takes place right after s3ep2, right after they find out Redhood’s identity :3
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You didn’t fully know what was happening; just that there were too many hostages in the building—all who would be killed if not evacuated immediately. You were about to run and help the rest of the titans get everyone as far away as possible before Kory pulled you aside.
You went to protest before she quickly interrupted you, “Go search for Jason.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Uhm, what?”
“Look, I have a feeling he’ll listen to you better than anyone.” she said. “Jasons not someone who can be brought down by force. Shit, he came back from the fucking dead, you think he’s gonna let us beat this new…phase out of him?” 
You wanted to argue, but Kory wasn’t someone who was wrong often. She had a good point, and you knew you had to follow it.
“We’ve got this under control,” she assured, resting a reassuring but firm hand on your shoulder. “Go.”
You were skeptical, especially when you could see Gar in the distance shaking in his boots trying to convince an old lady to let him help her down the steps, and citizens clearly getting whiplash from Connor moving them to safety too fast. Your team was…definitely something, but with some hesitance you finally turned and ran in the direction of the one member you wanted to see.
“Jason!” You called out, your voice echoing through the barren alley. Gotham was creepy enough already without walking in some sketchy, busted up route in the pitch dark.
You kept calling but the only response you got was your own voice echoing back to you. You tried to scratch your mind for something to say that could persuade him, but you came up blank. Guilt ate at your conscience when you remembered that you hadn’t spoken to him for months before he died. 
To be honest, Jason never had anyone in his life to begin with. He told you that along with all his other secrets, and you still broke his heart. 
You stayed with the titans, thinking he was being naive for not wanting to. You didn’t think about the fact they never once tried to help him, or ever see him as more than an immature kid. They didn’t have the energy to help Jason through his issues so they just abandoned ship, sending him right back to Bruce and his horrible coping mechanisms.
As much as you wanted to be angry at Dick, or Kory or really anyone else for letting that happen, you had to face that you played your part.
Jason Todd died alone. He died feeling like no one would miss him, like he was a failure of a Robin and a failure of a titan. Because even after everything, all he wanted to do was prove himself.
So, yeah. Admittedly the first words you chose to say were not a good idea. Probably should’ve seen that one coming, but you never were too good at comforting him. was anyone?
“It didn’t have to be like this, you can still come back to the titans!” You tried to coax him, almost immediately regretting it. You quickly shut your mouth, tho the damage was already done. You just prayed he wasn’t here—he didn’t need to be provoked into blowing your brains out. 
Only when your muscles stopped tensing and you thought you got lucky, a voice you couldn’t even recognize rumbled above you. It shot ice up your veins and you would’ve frozen in place if you weren’t so adiment on seeing him again.
“Still taking about the titans? Why am I surprised.” He taunted, tilting his head in a gesture so familiar it made your heart ache. When you spun around you were met with someone you couldn’t believe was really Jason. He was standing on some rusted fire escape, a steel red mask boring right through you. 
You tensed, but not out of fear. No, you could never be scared of Jason, not the same nerd who woke up early to make you breakfast or who secretly wore reading glasses. 
You debated messaging him for months after your breakup, paragraphs on paragraphs you never sent. You had so much to say to him before, so why now did your mind go blank?
It was hard to see what he was feeling with the mask, but you could tell he was expecting a snarky remark back. When you just stood there dumbfounded, he sighed. “Look, I’m done trying to prove myself to them. To Bruce, to everyone! I don’t have to be some fucking nobody y/n, and neither do you.”
Now that made you snap out of whatever trance you were in. “‘and neither do you’? What are you trying to do, advertise me the life of crime?”
He groaned, “I don’t know why I ever tried with you. The titans are just a bunch of fucked up people acting like one big happy family, is that what you wanted? Are you happy you made that choice?” He sneered.
There was malice in his tone, but it wasn’t real. he didn’t feel angry anymore, just betrayed.
He would’ve splayed his heart out for you on a silver platter if you asked, just for you to turn your back on him. You followed him in his dreams, haunted him every time he smelt a familiar perfume, even appeared behind his shut eyelids while the life drained out of him. You were a part of him, and from what he knew you’d never looked back when you stormed out that day.
That’s why it shocked him when tears started to well in your eyes. God, your eyes—the ones he would subconsciously buy clothes of in the same colour. “You could’ve came with me,” you whispered. 
Your meek tone broke something in him. His shoulders relaxed and in a blink he leaped down, knees bending upon landing on the hard ground in front of you. Seeing him like this; the mask concealing his identity, various weapons strapped to his thighs and seemingly more toned than the last time you saw him—you could understand why everyone was on edge.
He stood there motionless, a silent and intimidating presence before you. You both stood there in unbearable silence until finally, he lifted his mask off.
His features were lit beautifully by the dim street light, eyes glinting ever so slightly. He looked exhausted—more troubled now, but you knew, despite everything, this was Jason. Your Jason, not who he was manipulated into.
“No, I couldn’t have.” he muttered begrudgingly, “they made that very clear.”
“So what, you just become a terrorist? Is that your idea of solving your problems?”
His fists clenched in barely concealed anger. “Bruce couldn’t save Gotham, so he abandoned it. I’ll be the one to fix it.” 
“By running around in a new suit and planting bombs everywhere? Real great strategy.” You rolled your eyes, but started to blush when you stared at him too long in the plated suit that fit him perfectly. You quickly caught yourself ogling and looked away, assuming he wouldn’t catch the red tinge on your face. 
You don’t know how you ever thought he wouldn’t notice. Of course he noticed, it’s Jason Todd.
For fucks sake, the guy noticed every detail about you. The way you’d avoid eye contact when nervous, the pace of your blinking quickening when you were lost in thought, the slight heighten of your voice when you were excited about something. All these tiny things and you thought he just wouldn’t notice the way you eyed him down all red in the face?
Come on, you were basically writing your true feelings out to him in big, bold… ..red letters…
and it’s not like Kory ever specified exactly what to do once you found him… .. .
So that’s how you ended up bent against his motorcycle in some busted up alleyway, pussy spread open on his dick.
You gasped and clawed pointlessly at his covered back; nails clinking uselessly against the metal armour of his suit. 
Your own suit was pulled off just enough to get access to your cunt, panties pulled to the side so he could plunge his thick cock into you.
He was groaning more than he used to, and you could swear you even heard him whine. His pace was ruthless, thrusts messy but coordinated. He kept trying to push further inside you, pressing his body as close to you as possible like you would vanish at any moment. 
“Fuckfuckfuck-“ he rambled. Death heightened all of his senses—made things have so much more of an impact on him. Maybe he just missed you too much, or maybe he let himself forget how good you feel.
To be fair, you were far worse off than him. You would’ve alerted everyone in Gotham if he wasn’t covering your mouth with a gloved hand, though it’s not like anyone here would bat an eye to screaming.
“My poor baby just been lonely, s’that it?”He teased, manhandling you by your hips to meet his harsh thrusts. 
“Nobody to fill up this pretty hole like I do, such a shame,” he pouted in faux sympathy, as if he wasn’t balls deep at the moment.
“I’m back now. Fuck the titans, I’ve always treated you better, haven’t I?” He’s fucking your ability to form coherent words right out of your throat, but he knows your answer when you squeeze around him.
“Jay!” you moaned into his palm. Your cunt was squelching embarrassingly loud with each thrust, thighs shaking so hard you for sure would’ve fallen over if he wasn’t holding you up. Every drag of his cock in you hit the perfect spots, just like he remembered you love.
“You don’t even care that I’m red hood, do you?” he asked, his tone full of confidence. “Nah, you don’t. So fucking wet, does my suit get you off princess?” 
He moved his hand to play with your clit, getting it soaked with your fluids. You were too cock-drunk to lie bite back, just nodding desperately and mewling out something akin to a yes.
He smirked. “Pussys sucking me in the same too, fuck- I missed this. I missed you.”
He acted cocky when he was fucking you like this because it’s the only way he was sure you even wanted to be around him. Not much to complain about when his big dick is ravaging you, no?
Deep down he always felt right at home with you. He wouldn’t admit it, but he would give up red hood for you. He’d give up anything for you, actually. Nothing mattered as long as you were with him. And he wasn’t letting you go this time.
With the ministrations on your clit and him pounding into you, it wasn’t a surprise when that knot in your stomach came undone quickly. Especially not with how many failed orgasms you had with your fingers, pretending it was him.
Ever attentive, he noticed immediately. “You gonna come, baby? Try not to get any on the new suit.” He winked, as if you were gonna squirt for him. (You have, many times.)
The cherry on top was when he unexpectedly flipped his mask back down and leaned in to whisper right into your ear with that deep voice, “come for me”
And you were gone. You came with a cry of his name, eyes rolling back and toes curling. Your pussy gushed all over his dick, forming a white ring around it that you could see every time he slammed his hips.
Seeing your pretty face so euphoric was what sent him over the edge, and grudgingly he pulled out, pearly white cum shooting all over your stomach.
You spent a minute regaining your breath while he pressed gentle kisses all over your throat. He only let up when you whined at the slight pain of the pressure on your newly forming hickeys. He tucked himself back into his pants and re-adjusted his belt. You were wondering if he planned on just leaving until he took his coat off and wrapped it around you.
He moved you so you were set down properly on the back of his motorcycle and then stepped on. You instinctively laid against his back, resting your head on his shoulder and he admired you with pure adoration.
“Wrap your arms around me babe,” he hummed, affectionately rubbing your thigh that was pressed to his.
When your brain finally caught up to what was happening you gave him a confused look.“Wha- wait! Where are we going?” 
He looked at you like you were crazy for even questioning it. “Home,” he laughed, “what? Did you think death was gonna do us part, baby?”
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girlboypersonthingy · 2 months
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hiiiii!!!! so i’m thinking of a velvette fic where u meet the vees after having dated her for a bit (a few weeks maybe). you hate them. you think they’re creepy and just assholes, even for being in hell. (you’re a bit more wholesome but yk still a sinner) like you just do NOT like the guys. you’re super worried abt velvette’s reaction to that fact so u try to sugar coat it but she’s just like “thank lucifer! i didn’t want them to be creepy bad influences on u!” and u’re both super relieved. i love her.
Heeyyyy I was wondering when you’d send in a Velvette request ☺️ you got it friend! Enjoyyyy~
TW: Val being a perv 😎 for like one second tho, Velvette gets a bit suggestive,?? Lots of cussing lol
The Only V For Me 💜
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“AAHHH!!! Darling, you’re finally here! How was the drive? How was the driver?” Velvette watches as you walk through the doorway of her studio, looking around with big doe eyes at all the bright lights and flashy outfits and really beautiful model demons.
“Velvette!” Before you can say anything more, she’s pulling you into a a deadly tight hug. “It was actually…like way too much, babe. You don’t have to do all that fancy shit for me, ya know? But…yes, it was really nice. Thank you.” Velvette offers you a cheeky smirk followed by a quick kiss to the cheek.
Your darling girlfriend snaps her fingers and yells out a command to one of her assistants. “You! Come here.” She makes a ‘come here’ motion with her finger as she turns her attention back to you, her lips upturned into a smile again, “Are you thirsty? Hungry? Anything you need, you tell her.” She points to her assistant who is now right at your side. “Anything my darling asks for, you get it.” She gives the worker an intimidating glare before winking at you.
“Let me show you around!” Velvette puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you along, pointing things out, explaining them. She is absolutely beaming with pride right now, glancing at you often to see your reaction. As you pass a mannequin clad in a really nice outfit, a gasp comes from Velvette. “Oh my! You know who would look absolutely stunning in this little number?” And now she’s flashing you this flirty grin and her bright red eyes are looking you up and down. Suddenly her smooth demeanor dropped as she grumbled under her breath a bit then sighed deeply.
“Oh, who am I kidding. With Vox and Val both here today, if I dress you in anything more appealing than what you’ve got on now, they will definitely try to steal you from me. You already look too cute…” This pulls a laugh from you but your laugh stops suddenly, stuck in your throat when you see how serious her expression is at the moment.
“Wait. What? What do you mean-“ And suddenly the doors swing open, slamming into the walls behind them as an extremely tall, blue-skinned individual with big red heart shaped glass quickly approaches Velvette, towering over both of you.
“WHERE THE HELL IS VOX?! I’ve been looking for that flat faced fuck all day.” He growls out and you take note of the fact that Velvette doesn’t flinch a bit. “Why the hell are you asking me? If he was here, you’d have found him already.” She snaps back and as the angry man before you was about to screech out another sentence, his expression softened rather quickly as his eyes fell on you.
“Why hello~ who do you have here? Wow! What a gorgeous creature you are. I’m Valentino. What’s your name, sweetheart?” One of his hands slips into yours and as he goes to lift your hand to his lips, Velvette pushes him so hard he nearly falls over.
“Their name is (Y/N), alright? And they are MINE. Now back off, Val.” She hisses in response, now tightly holding your hand, the hand that Val was holding just a second ago. “WHOO! Alright. My apologies, dear. Didn’t know this one was all yours. But I mean FUCK! They just have such nice lips! I mean, look at that mouth. You have the perfect pair of dick sucking li-“
Velvette shouts over him, “SHUT IT!!! You’re actually so vile. Get out of here, Valentino! You’re freaking out my babe.” She gives him another shove, making him frown angrily at her before he stomps off, probably punching a wall or kicking something over as he leaves. Oh, he definitely slams the door again too.
“Alrighty! Where were we?” Velvette seems to relax a bit more, going back to a more chipper and excited attitude as she again shows off all of her impressive work to you. She even got a few models to come do a little show just for you, all of them casually posing and showing off different outfits. Velvette kept asking your opinion, begging you to be ‘bloody honest’ with her.
“Oh, darling! You just have to come over one night and let me dress you up, just us two! Hmm~ I could dress you up and then maybe even…undress you again.” Just as your girlfriend started to flirt with you and as you started to feel more comfortable in this environment-
“Velvette! Happy Friday. Have you seen Val? I haven’t been able to reach him all day. I’m-“ The strong, electric voice that sounded from behind you two made you jump a bit and brought a frightening grimace to Velvette’s face.
“Oh~ Hello. (Y/N), right? Pleased to meet you! I was wondering when our precious like Velvette was gonna bring her play thing over. I’m Vox, creator of Voxtech. You know, on the late night talk show…and the morning talk show. I’m also the news anchor.” He doesn’t really offer you his hand, he more so just reached out and grasps your hand in his, giving it a rapid shaking.
His grip on your hand hurts a bit and the smug smirk on his face makes you somewhat intimidated by him. Vox just…gives you the creeps even more than Valentino did and he basically verbally assaulted you. Before you can even come up with a response to him-
“Yes, yes, yes. Everyone knoWS WHO YOU ARE, YOU PRICK. NOW WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” And now Velvette looks kind of scary, like so pissed off and annoyed that she looks like she could actually kill someone right now. The someone preferably being Vox. Her bright red eyes glow with rage and irritation, her pretty lips now turned into a deep scowl.
As she yells in his face, his expression drops to one of annoyance and exhaustion. “Where’s Val?” Velvette groans before responding. “You’ve got to be fuckin kidding me! He just left, looking for you. Look on your stupid little cameras and find him and go tell him to STOP SLAMMING MY DOORS OR IM GONNA-“
Not that Velvette scared you but…she looked pretty upset right now and her yelling is enough to put anyone into a slight panic. So you slip you hand around her bicep, gently pulling her tense arm back a bit so you could comfortably slide your hand down to hers, interlocking your fingers. Her words stopped in their tracks, your tender touch almost making her flinch. Her head whipped around and she looked at you for a good few seconds, a smile slowly growing on her lips. She turns back to the screen-faced man, her smile not faltering this time.
“Off you go.” Velvette quite literally shoos him away with a wave of her hand as her other hand snakes its way around your waist and back until her arm is fully wrapped around you and you’re pressed into her side. She turns her back on Vox, determined to keep her full attention on you for the rest of the day. You’re too distracted by her embrace to notice if Vox had even left or not.
You clear your throat. “Babe…?” “Yes, love?” “Don’t get mad.” You look at her with a serious expression, causing her to blink in confusion. “Mad at you? Never. What’s on your mind?” Velvette pulled away from you for just a second then she faced you and held both your hands in her own.
“I feel…extremely uncomfortable here. Specifically, with Valentino and Vox. I-I…I’m sorry I just…I don’t like them…very much…they scare me.” Velvette chuckles before you can finish your sentence and you’re not sure if you should be relieved or even more worried. Suddenly, she pulls you into a tight hug, her hands rubbing big circles all over your back.
“Ugh, I’m so terribly sorry, darling. Truly, I figured those two would be busy on a Saturday, too busy to be bothering us already.” She turns her head to kiss your cheek then pulls you in even closer. “Fuck! I’m actually so relieved you said that. Those two are so terrible…truly, irresponsible! I mean it when I say I’m the backbone of the Vs okay? Those two pussies would fall apart in a matter of hours without me! Ugh they can’t even keep it together for one day!” “Babe…” You try to calm her again, seeing how worked up she gets having to constantly deal with her work partners.
With her attention solely on you, she softly says, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. What do you want to do next, hm? We can go somewhere. Anywhere. Just say the words.” Her long fingers gently graze the skin of your cheek, causing you to become a bit flustered. It’s almost baffling how she can be so cold and cruel to everyone around her except you. You were her only weakness, and she doesn’t mind one bit. She loves you endlessly. She wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in Hell.
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virginsexgod69 · 2 months
Note
REQUEST ‼️‼️‼️
I’ve always wanted to read one where the reader is one of Hershel’s daughters (set in season 2). When Daryl and the group show up the reader won’t stop teasing Daryl and eventually he can’t take it anymore. Please make my dreams come true 😭😭🤘. (p.s virgin reader would be +50 points ;)
❝ V-Card ❞
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pairing (S2) Daryl Dixon x virgin!fem!Reader
cw loss of virginity, unprotected p in v, lowkey inexperienced daryl, but also not really?, teasing, some pining, daryl kinda being a boob man, reader being a little pervy at times
note i am so sorry i kept you waiting 32 days for this request @mygrandmaschinacabinet, i really hope you like this and thank you for your patience and kind comment on my other post!
p.s. just bc reader is hershel's daughter does not imply anything ab her appearence
~5.k words
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 Living on a farm that was fairly far from society, it was a given that you wouldn't see good looking guys too often. But being a good looking girl, the guys you didn't want were always the ones after you, and you'd always have to turn them down. When she gets older, she's gonna have to fight off boys with a stick, was something your grandma would often tease your father, Hershel, about. You laughed it off, not paying any mind to it, but boy did she end up being right. You spent a good portion of your high school years rejecting your suitors, none of which were good enough for you, and none of which you really wanted. But when you finally laid eyes on the most beautiful man you've ever seen, he happened to be one who seemed to pay you no attention. 
 Odd circumstances brought the beautiful man, whom you quickly learned was named Daryl Dixon, to your farm. Otis shot a kid, Hershel took him in to care for, and his dad's group eventually made a home on your father's land. You couldn’t help but ogle at him from your bedroom window whenever you got the chance. The way his biceps flexed whenever he worked with his arms had your virgin pussy aching to be filled by him. He was a man who you’d let do things to you that you’d let no other man before even think he had a chance of doing. 
“Not this again,” Maggie complained upon entering your room. You were perched at your window -like you have been since the group first arrived- watching Daryl skin some squirrels. No one could look as good as he did while doing such a grisly task. 
“Can you blame me? Jus’ look at him,” you replied dreamily. 
“No thanks.” 
“Whatever. You have your eye candy, I have mine.” 
“Eye candy? What’re you talkin’ about?” She asked defensively. 
“Glenn. I’ve seen the way you look at him, like he’s a piece of meat,” you teased. 
“Whatever! Do you need anythin’? I’m goin’ out on a run.” 
“With Glenn?” 
 She let out an annoyed huff and exited the room, not awaiting your response. But you didn’t need anything anyway. You went back to watching Daryl. The sweltering Georgia heat caused sweat to drench his sleeveless shirt and drip from his short, dark hair. He looked like he walked out of one of your many wet dreams. Just then, an idea popped into your head. You hurried down to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, cooling it with the scoops of ice you added. Surely this kind deed would put you on his radar. 
“Hey, Daryl,” you cheerily greeted as you approached the rugged man. He sat on a stump, now gutting the squirrels he already skinned. He grunted in response, not looking up from his work. Your smile dropped, not that it mattered, considering he wasn’t even looking at you. 
“Brought you some water. It’s pretty hot out here and I wouldn’t want ya gettin’ dehydrated,” you said as you held out the cold glass, now dripping with condensation. “Thanks.” He grabbed the glass, his fingers slightly brushing yours, sending a tingling through your spine. He threw his head back, downing the water. A small stream of water dripped down his chin, then his neck, sliding down his shirt no longer in your vision. You squeezed your thighs together. Every little thing he did drove you crazy. You felt like a victorian man who’d just seen a peek of a woman’s ankle whenever you were around Daryl. 
“You uh… Ya need somethin’?” He asked when he noticed you haven’t left yet. You froze. You didn’t need anything, but you didn’t want to leave either. 
“Jus’ came to check on ya, I guess,” you muttered. 
“ ‘M fine?” He tossed the squirrel’s guts into a bucket. 
“Well, alright. My work here is done!” You cringed as the words left your mouth. You grabbed the emptied glass and walked back into the house, chastising yourself the entire way. You wanted nothing more than to have him look at you the way other guys do, but he barely give you the time of day. 
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 The glimmer of sunbeams on your face woke you up the next morning. You glanced at the analog clock on your nightstand that read 11:36. You hopped out of bed and eagerly hurried to your window, hoping Daryl would be back from hunting or looking for that little girl or whatever else it was he did when he wasn’t in his usual spot. He was sat on that stump again, but this time he was cleaning his crossbow with that red rag he kept on him. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had  to do something. He couldn’t keep getting away with being so hot and so uninterested in you. 
 You readied yourself in the bathroom, making sure every hair was in place and every tooth was brushed. You debated putting on makeup. You had some leftover from before, but never had a reason to use it, not until now. You layered on some mascara until your lashes looked twice as long and twice as full and coated your lips with some tinted gloss. You stared into your closet debating on what you thought Daryl’d like better. Your tightest, shortest shorts and a nearly see-through tank top. 
“What’re doin’ all dolled up like that?” Your younger sister, Beth asked upon entering the kitchen. 
“Makin’ lunch for D-,” you stopped yourself, not wanting another sister catching onto your thing for Daryl, “for the group out there.” 
“Daddy doesn’t want us wastin’ all our stuff on them,” she protested. You rolled your eyes at her. She could be such a goody-two-shoes sometimes. “What he don’ know won’ hurt him.” You cut a piece of the sandwich you made and handed it to Beth. 
“Eat this and keep quiet.”  
You assembled the sandwich and a glass of lemonade on a tray and carried it over to his lone camp. He didn’t look at you until you were standing before him holding the tray of food. His eyes slowly made their way up to yours, lingering on your bare legs and exposed cleavage on their way up. You couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged the corners of your mouth at this small victory. He quickly averted his gaze and set his crossbow down. 
“Wha’s all this?” He asked, nodding his head toward the tray in your arms. 
“Made ya lunch. Figured you’d be hungry after all that huntin’ and searchin’ you been doin’,” you answered as you set down the tray. 
“Uh, thanks?” He seemed confused, but grateful nonetheless. “Of course,” you replied with a bright smile before sauntering off, swaying your hips more than usual. Unbeknownst to you, he watched you until the door closed behind you. 
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 In the days that passed, you upped the ante on your teasing. Daryl noticed. At noon almost everyday, you’d bring him lunch in risqué little outfits. Not quite skimpy, but just enough to tease him. And tease him they did. He already was too nervous to look at you, afraid he might scare you off with his gruff nature and lack of experience with women. He’d choose, instead, to catch glimpses of you when you weren’t watching. Like when you’d leave after bringing him something, or when you’d be around doing farm-work or interacting with the other members of his group. But when you started wearing those revealing outfits, it became harder for him to keep from looking at you. But when he made eye contact with you, he became so nervous and shy that he had to look away. You were the sun. He could feel your warmth, even when he couldn’t see you. You were so bright and beautiful that he felt pulled to look at you, but whenever he did, it couldn’t be for long because he’d forcibly look away, your bright smile burning his sensitive retinas. 
 Speaking of the sun, there you were. “Daryl!” You called as you ran to him. The actual sun glowed behind you, making you look even more like an angel. He was atop one of your horses ready to leave the farm to look for Sophia. He was shocked to see you since you usually weren’t up until noon. He’d know since that’s around the time he sees you watching him through your window. 
“Yeah?” He grunted. 
“Ya goin’ out to look for that little girl?” Once you were out of the sunlight, he could actually get a good look at you.  Something in him stirred when he saw you in the little dress you had on. It was a cream color with ruffles at the bottom and it gave him a good view of your breasts from his position on the horse. He quickly tore his eyes away and looked at the view ahead of him, which was nowhere near as beautiful as you. 
“I figure you’ll be gone for a bit, so I brought you a little bite to eat,” you said holding up a few muffins you made the other night wrapped in cheesecloth. 
“T-thanks,” he stuttered. Despite how frequent it was, he was always taken aback by the kindness you show him. He’s never been treated the way you treat him before and it caught him off guard. 
“Be back by dinner, okay?” It wasn’t a command, more of a hopeful question, but made his heart flutter. 
“I’ll try.” He didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep. You stood there fiddling with your dress about to say something but deciding against it each time. 
“Wha’ is it?” 
“B-be safe out there!” You blurted before scampering off. He found it odd how you could be so bold with your teasing, yet shy when it came to actually talking to him. 
  Your words echoed in his head as he searched for any sign of Carol’s lost daughter. Your request of be back by dinner, okay? motivated him to get back to the farm, despite his injuries from the horse tossing him down a cliff making it difficult for him to move. But what really stuck with him was your horrified scream when you saw Andrea shoot him. That scream haunted his dreams while he was unconscious. The terror of it being the last thing he’d hear from you was his real nightmare. So when he heard your soft “Hey,” he felt relief wash over him, despite the pain everywhere else. He blinked his dry eyes open only for the first thing for him to see being your tits. You had on a loose t-shirt with no bra underneath. He didn’t know if this was a part of your teasing or a pure mistake, but either way, his cock stirred at the sight. You leaned down further to look into his eyes. 
“How ya feelin’?” You ask, placing the back of your hand to his forehead. He tried to croak out a response, but his throat was too dry. You quickly grabbed the glass of water at his bedside and helped him drink it. 
“Better?” 
“ ‘M fine,” he said. You gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him, but were humoring him anyway. “You were injured pretty badly, Daryl,” you said as you gently stroked his hair. He caught himself before he could fully melt into your touch. In fact, he moved away from it. 
“I know, ‘m fine,” he snapped before trying to roll over, away from you. He didn’t like you seeing him like this. So weak and frail, having to depend on those around him. He didn’t see the hurt expression that took over your pretty face. But, to his luck, you didn’t let him push you away. Instead, you toed off your shoes and got into the bed beside him, facing him. He hoped to the high heavens that you couldn’t see the redness that blossomed on his face when you flashed your bright smile at him. 
“I’ll keep ya company,” you promised. 
“Don’ need no company, said ‘m fine.” He didn’t know why he was so adamant about pushing you away. The minute he realized you were in here, he brightened up. He didn’t want his sunshine to leave, but he couldn’t help the storm that was brewing inside him. 
“Well, if you really want me to leave, I’ll go.” You were almost out of the bed before his clammy hand grabbed your wrist. 
“Nah, you can stay,” he said, prompting the return of that bright smile. 
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 When you woke up, the sun was setting and Daryl’s arm was around your waist, holding you close. Your heart swelled, this was all you ever wanted, to be in Daryl’s arms. Okay, well you wanted more than just his arm around you, but small victories! You gently moved his arm off you so you could get up and get some dinner from him and yourself. 
“What were you doin’ in there?” Your father asked as soon as you stepped out of the room. He stood outside, about to come in, holding a tray of food for the bowman. 
“Nothin’, Daddy, I was jus’ checkin up on our patient!” It was the truth, but it felt like a lie. 
“Since earlier this afternoon?” He pressed. 
“Lost track of time,” you explained. 
“Now, honey, I know you’re just lookin’ out for him, but-“ 
“I know, I know, you don’t really trust them, but I’m just lovin’ thy neighbor, so to speak.” You bargained. 
That response seemed to satisfy him for now. He handed you the tray of food to give you Daryl. 
“Daryl, dinner,” you called softly upon reentering the room. He groaned, but woke up anyway. He tried to sit up, but winced in pain. You set the tray down and quickly ran to his side to help him out. You adjusted his pillows and helped him to a sitting position. 
“Wha’s fer dinner?” He asked, glancing at the bowl of soup on the tray beside him on the bed. You hummed in thought before dipping your finger into the bowl and sucking it clean, making sure your lips were pouty as you did so, hoping to tease Daryl. 
“Tomato.” He hummed noncommittally before reaching for the spoon. You swatted his hand away. “Nuh uh, you’re still healing, let me feed you.” 
“I can feed myself,” he protested. You furrowed your brows and pouted at him. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but opened his mouth slightly, waiting for a bite. You smiled, scooping up some soup and spooning it into his mouth, making sure to lean forward as to give him a front row seat to the view down your shirt. You saw him avoid looking the first few times, but soon he was unable to resist taking a peek, and soon his peeking became staring (however, he pretended not to be whenever you looked back up at him). 
“Enjoy the soup?” You asked once the bowl was mostly empty. 
“S’alright,” he said as he nibbled on a cracker. You grabbed the bowl and drank the rest of the soup directly from it. 
“Goddammit!” You cursed when a glob of soup fell onto your white t-shirt. But maybe it was a blessing in disguise, a chance to drive Daryl crazy. You grabbed a random t-shirt from one of the drawers and set it down before taking off the one you had, tossing it aside. You put the new one on as if you didn't just give him a strip show. His face was beet red and he hurried to adjust the blankets on his lap. 
"Daryl, you okay? You look a little hot?" 
"S'just w-warm in here." 
"Let me jus' check your temperature." Instead of pressing the back of your hand to his forehead like before, you placed a gentle kiss to it. 
"Feels a little warm." You stayed close to his face. If he moved, even a centimeter, his lips would touch yours, which is what you were hoping for. You glanced down at his lips, then up at his blue eyes, waiting for him to lean in. Despite all this teasing, you kinda wished he'd make a move, too. When he didn't, you pulled away, kissing him on the cheek instead. 
"Get well soon, okay?" you said before taking the tray and leaving. 
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Daryl had been mentally punching himself since that night. He was an idiot for not kissing you when he had the chance. You were right there and so obviously waiting for him to do something, anything. But he couldn't. It'd been so long since he'd done anything with a woman, and even then, he didn't think he was any good. He was almost embarrassed about how inexperienced he was at his age. And someone as beautiful as you obviously would have some experience, so why waste time on him. He didn't want to be the cloud that dulled your shine. 
 He was now well enough to be released from Hershel’s care, but not well enough to resume about his usual ways. He’d normally disobey orders to take it easy, but when you made him promise to rest, he couldn’t break it. Subconsciously, he glanced over to your window. It wasn’t something he did often, considering you were usually the one watching him, but you were weighing heavily on his mind. He saw you up in your room, assuming you’d just woken up since it was almost noon. You were at your window, rummaging through your dresser -he knew where it was when he caught a glimpse of your room when he was inside the house. You held up a few shirts, probably deciding on which to wear, before pulling your pajama shirt off over your head. This was now the second, no, third time he’s gotten a perfect view of your tits. God they would feel so good in his hands, better yet, they’d look so good  bouncing in unison with his thrusts as he fucked you into your mattress. Your teasing and mischievous ways only fueled his fantasies, causing his pants to tighten uncomfortably. The little wave you gave him from your window pulled him out of his own head. You, still topless, blew him a kiss before stepping out of frame. 
 His heart rate increased expeditiously as he nearly came in his pants. He couldn’t handle your teasing anymore, it was driving him crazy. He wanted you, not just the fantasies in his head and the company of his hand. He wanted to feel your walls squeeze his cock, hear your little moans as he pleasured you until your mind went numb, become one with you as you came in unison. He hurried into his tent and zipped it all the way up before collapsing onto his sleeping bag and hurrying to undo his pants. He liberated his aching cock from its confines and spat on his hand. He rubbed himself up and down, from base to tip, imagining it was your pretty mouth swallowing him whole. He ignored the sound of distant footsteps approaching his tent and instead chased his climax, which was coming embarrassingly fast. 
“Daryl?” Your distant voice called, but all he heard in his mind was you moaning his name as your nails scratched down his back. 
“You in here?” You asked. Daryl came in his hand, taking extra care to stifle the moan that threatened to spill from his mouth. Reality set in when he saw your shadow standing outside his tent. He quickly wiped his hand off on the closest piece of fabric and shoved himself back in his pants. 
“Need somethin’? He asked. He willed you not to notice his flushed, sweaty face. 
“Watcha doin’ in there?” You asked, trying to peek into his tent. He moved to block your vision. He didn’t need you finding any trace of his earlier activity. Although, the little dress you had on had him ready to continue said activities.
“Nothin’.” 
“Anyway, I came to check on you, make sure you’re takin’ it easy.” 
“I am, was jus’ takin’ a nap,” he lied. 
“Then why are you so red? And sweaty? Are you comin’ down with somethin’?!” You were starting to sound worried, making Daryl feel guilty. You reached up to feel his forehead and check for a fever, but he stepped back, avoiding your touch. If he felt your skin on his, in any capacity, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back anymore. 
“Daryl, don’t be so stubborn!” You stepped closer only for him to step back again. 
“Ain’ got no fever, girl! S’just hot out here!” He insisted. 
“Don’ know that for sure. If it is one, it could mean one of your wounds is infected.” 
“S’not a fever, ‘m sweaty from workin’ out.” You looked at him with an eyebrow skeptically raised and a hand on your hip. So much for takin’ a nap, you thought. Your eyes traveled down his body before meeting his again, this time with look more mischievous than usual in your eyes. 
“Your fly’s down.” He quickly zipped it up, cursing himself for the dumb mistake. 
“Anythin’ to do with your ‘work out’?” 
“Dunno what yer gettin’ at.” His heart was beating faster in his chest, this time because of anxiety. You were onto him and he was about to get caught, humiliated under your scrutinizing gaze.
“Flushed, sweaty face.” You took a step closer and he took one back. “Dilated pupils.” Another step forward and another one back. “Unzipped fly.” He stepped back, not looking where he was going and stumbled onto the grassy ground. You sat down next to him. “Took forever to open your tent.” Your face split into a grin like the Cheshire Cat.   “I’d say you were in there masturbatin’.” He stumbled over his words, looking for what to say in denial of your observation accusation. You pressed your pointer finger to his lips. 
“Shh, it’s okay.” You leaned over him and slid your hand down his chest. “I touch myself, too.” His sparkling blue eyes went wide. “Usually thinkin’ ‘bout you when I do it.” You could feel his breathing change as you slid your hand further down his toned stomach. “Were you thinkin’ ‘bout me?” His face was beet read and breathing shallow. You had him and he was more than ready, willing, and able to give in. He nodded his head, confirming your suspicions. 
“Well, next time I’m on your mind,” you leaned down, lips ghosting his parted ones, “don’t just settle for your hand.” His lips finally met yours in a heated kiss. The built up tension from his days of pining and yours of teasing finally being released in that kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss, slipping your tongue inside and drinking in all his pleasured groans. 
“Wanna go back to my room?” You asked after pulling away. 
“Nah, too far. Let’s go inside my tent.” You happily agreed and hurried inside, zipping it up behind Daryl. His mouth was back on yours in an instant, passionately exploring it with his tongue. He kissed his way down to your neck, roughly sucking marks. 
“Oh, Daryl!” You shouted when he reached a certain spot on your neck, just beneath your ear. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. Nervously, Daryl’s hand experimented with touching your body, his hands firmly gripping your hips. They were comfortable there and not daring enough to try anything else. He wanted to impress you, but at the same time he didn’t want you to notice that he had no clue what he was doing or what to do next, using the pirated porn and one night stands of his past as reference. Your hands grabbed his and placed them on your tits. 
“Touch me, Daryl!” You whined. His hands groped and kneaded at the soft mounds of flesh hidden behind the thin fabric of your dress. He pulled down the front of your dress, freeing your tits then recapturing one by putting it in his mouth. His large hand toyed with the right while his mouth suckled the other. Your little wanton whimpers egged him on, giving him the confidence to try more. Your squirmed beneath him, squeezing your thighs together. His cock was also painfully hard, once again, and yearning to feel your warm walls around him. He pulled away and undid his pants before pulling out his cock, stroking it a few times. He looked up at you, but you looked less excited. Your eyes wouldn’t meet his and your arms were crossed over your chest, hiding yourself from him. 
“Wha’s the matter, Sunshine?” He asked, the nickname rolling of his tongue naturally. He was more than excited to sleep with you, but his worry regarding your sudden change outweighed that. 
“N-nothin’. Jus’ put it in,” you said hoarsely. 
“Nah, we ain’ doin’ nothin’ unless ya tell me wha’s wrong.” It sounded harsh, but it came from a place of genuine concern. 
You sat up, readjusting your dress as you did so. “I-it’s jus’,” you nervously fiddled with the hem of your dress, something Daryl noticed you did a lot around him. “C-can we go slow? I haven’t done any of this stuff before,” you admitted. 
“You a virgin?” He asked, astonished. You glumly nodded your head as if you were accepting defeat. In a twisted way, that relieved him a bit. Maybe since you’ve never had sex, you wouldn’t notice his own lack of experience.  He put himself in his boxers before patting the spot in front of him. You crawled over to him and sat between his legs, your back against his chest. His lips found that spot on your neck again and began sucking there as his hand slid underneath your panties. He rubbed your clit in tight circles, causing your thighs to clamp shut over his hand. 
“Jus’ relax,” he coaxed. You relaxed the best you could, but the pleasure kept you from staying still. 
“F-faster,” you whimpered. He obeyed your command, rubbing you at a quicker pace. Your head fell back against his shoulder and you moaned in his ear. His other hand slipped beneath your panties and gathered your arousal on his finger, before he slowly slid it inside you, giving you time to adjust. He pumped it in and out of you as he continued to rub your clit. Your back arched off him as you moaned his name. He easily slipped in a second finger with how wet you were. Your velvety walls were so soft around his thick digits. He couldn’t wait to feel them with his cock. He moved his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting you in a spot that had you babbling nonsense. You squeezed his fingers with your soaking cunt as your first orgasm overtook your body. 
“Daryl, I’m ready. Need ta feel ya inside me,” you slurred. He helped you lay down on your back and slid your panties off before pulling his painfully hard cock out again. Your legs rested over his thighs as he coated his member in your juices before lining it up with your entrance. He slid in as slowly as he could, making sure this would be as painless as it could be for you. You were so soft, slippery, and smooth around him, the best pussy he’s ever had. Once he was all the way in, he stopped to give you time to adjust. He leaned down and connected your lips in another kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled held him close. 
“You can move now.” His hands gripped your hips as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you, not wanting to give you too much too soon. His pleasured grunts mingled with your moans as he slid in and out of you. 
“More, need more!” You whined. He adjusted your position, placing your legs over his broad shoulders. The new position allowed him to fill you even better. As he pounded in and out of you, the erotic sounds of damp skin slapping damp skin filled the tent, harmonizing with his and your sounds of pleasure. He lifted your dress over your head, getting rid of the barrier between you and him, and tossed it aside. His own fantasies came true as he watched your tits bounce in unison with his thrusts. He took them in his hands again, rolling your nipples between his finger and thumb, bringing you closer to your climax. 
“Daryl I think I’ma-” Your sentence trailed off into a moan as you came around his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm as his own approached. He pulled out of you just as he was about to finish and came all over your tits and stomach, like a firehose. You let out a satisfied hum, barely able to keep your eyes open. He grabbed one of his discarded shirts and cleaned you off before laying beside you in the sleeping bag. You rolled over to face him and hugged him close in your arms. 
“You were the best first I coulda asked for,” you confessed. Your words soothed his worries that he didn’t perform well enough while also making his heart flutter.
“Guess all yer teasin’ paid off.” You giggled against his chest. 
 He pulled you closer to him and pulled you in for another kiss, a sweeter, gentler one this time. You dozed off in his comforting arms, wishing you’d never have to leave. 
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i proofread it, yaaay! anyway, thanks for reading! <3
i wrote this instead of doing my homework, mwahahahah >=]
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fandomwritingbit · 4 months
Text
Curious
journalist (f)reader x William Afton
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warnings: non con/rape, oral, p in v, threat, force, violence, murder/child murder, William is just vile the whole way through.
synop: you're tasked with researching the 'missing children's incident' and you have no idea just how dangerous that is.
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A/n: mostly but not entirely proofread, because this is a fucking long one boys.
The moment your boss gave you the assignment, it pretty much engulfed your life. “The Missing Children Incident” as it was dubbed by the papers, referred to multiple child disappearances at a well-known children’s restaurant. You were excited with the task, thinking that finally you might have your name at the bottom of an article that actually means something. But you quickly figured out the reason you ended up with this story. The research was gruelling, nothing upon nothing turned up after hours of reading and talking to the parents. Well, the few that were willing to face a reporter. Your shovel hits rock every time forcing you to conclude that there’s nothing to be found. 
That didn’t mean you were off the hook though, your boss was still up your arse with deadlines, telling you over and over how he ‘needs you to get this sorted’ within the week.
So here you are, your last thread of a story pinched between your fingers, the business side of it. You’re standing outside the restaurant in question, the name lit up in front of you with the r in Freddy’s constantly flickering, clinging onto the hope that the owner would be willing to entertain you. At this point you’re just going to transcribe the discussion and send it to print, as you’ve come to learn something is better than nothing.
Stepping inside you’re instantly greeted with the overwhelming smell of pizza, it’s hot too, the many bodies milling around inside forming a wall of heat that makes you ache to take your jacket off. You stop for a moment to just look at the scene, children laughing in that piercing screechy way that all kids can muster, running around with foam swords or handfuls of the coloured balls from the ball pit. You want to take a photo but it doesn’t miss you how weird that would be without permission. 
As you walk around you begin to realise that it wasn’t anything special; tatty all over, the smell of grease and fast-food clinging to the faux velvet booths and garish carpet that laid in some areas of the restaurant. It was so painfully a kid’s place. You’re searching faces for anyone who looks like they have some sway around here, there’s the guards and the service staff but that’s not who you’re looking for. You know the names of the gentlemen who owned the place but there was a lack of photos available at the library, so right now you’re fully reliant on the powers of deduction. 
Then finally you reach the Show Room and truth be told, you were impressed. It was the only part of the Godforsaken place that wasn’t caked in crushed crayons or old unremovable stains. It looked somewhat cared for, rows of perfectly aligned seats in front of a large stage, those hanging lights, speakers and all.
And the animatronics? Well, they were... unnerving. You couldn’t help but stare at them, they were much bigger than you’d have thought, crazily so. And good God, their eyes. You find your face twisted in disgust. Talk about uncanny valley, these creatures were fucking chilling. You can’t believe that the children are so comfortable with them, when you can hardly even watch their ‘show’ without a heavy feeling in your chest. You quickly avert your eyes, remembering that you’re here for work and feeling glad the very moment you can’t see the animatronics anymore. 
It’s then that you finally catch sight of a lead, a tall bloke in a shirt and tie emerging from a staff only door. He has the bearing of someone higher up than the waitress he stoops down to talk to, so you take that as your green light, squeezing past a gaggle of children in your way. 
You catch the end of the conversation as you approach, the man leaning on the counter with a face like a storm. “Oh okay, Mr Afton. I’ll do that now.” The server says anxiously, looking like they want the ground to swallow them up, they go to move away and the owner scoffs. 
“Should have been done two fucking hours ago.” The waitress turns but doesn’t say anything else, quickly scurrying away to whatever task they’re being bollocked over. You wait a little awkwardly to be noticed, standing close enough that it should be obvious you’re waiting yet he doesn’t catch on at all, just continues staring sharply after his employees. So eventually you just sigh, changing position to be right in front of him. 
“...Excuse me?” You try, feeling anxiety cool your veins. He glances at you equally as harsh, the annoyed expression on his face not shifting but dulling enough to be customer friendly. 
He looks you up and down trying to figure out what the hell you want. You look too young to be a parent and too old to be a kid, his brows raise as he thinks about how young adults aren’t exactly his target market. “What?” It’s about as blunt as you’d expect and you smile awkwardly, feeling the pressure to be overly pleasant and steer this conversation to a habitable place.  
“Are you…” You look down to the notebook in your hand wanting to make sure you get his first name right, “William Afton, the uh owner?” He smirks a little, trying to look down at the paper as well, and see what you’ve got written down that is clearly about him. He can’t manage it from the angle and you soon turn the paper to your skin anyway. 
“Depends. Who are you?” That’s a yes, then, you think to yourself, though you already knew from your eavesdropping. This is beginning to feel like a bad idea, the vibes off this man are sceptical at best and the last thing you need right now is to be manhandled out of here. He raises his hand in an impatient shrug when you don’t answer quick enough, making you fumble for your work lanyard around your neck with your paper’s logo and then you give him your name. 
He hums in such a way that you can’t tell if it’s good or bad, so you try to explain yourself just to fill the silence. “I was hoping to ask you some questions. About the missing children who were last seen here.” 
At the phrase “missing children” his eyes swiftly find yours and you gulp, if he’s trying to scare you off it just might work because right now you not only wish that you weren’t here, but also that you weren’t assigned the story, Hell that you didn’t take journalism at uni. Your face must have betrayed you because he laughs, standing up straight. 
“And what questions do you have for me, huh?” There’s an accusation to his tone that backfoots you even more. He’s struggling to keep the amusement from his expression because you must be a pretty shitty reporter to get spooked this easily. But that'll just make you more fun to play with.
“Just about how the uh events have affected business…” You’re barely sound professional and the owner still doesn’t look convinced, so you continue, “It won’t take long, 15 minutes tops, I can see you’re a busy man.” You smile at the end in an effort to sell the flattery a bit more, and as sweet as you look, he knows you’d probably jump out of your skin at the word boo right now. 
He shakes his head slightly, not necessarily at you or himself, just at the situation overall. Course you didn’t come in an hour ago and catch Henry, obviously not, but at least this will get him away from work for a little while, which he needs before someone gets on his nerves enough to get fired. You stand waiting for him to answer, your lip pinched between your teeth, it’s that nervous habit that props him to say yes.
“This’d better be an interesting 15 minutes, sweetheart.” You sigh in relief, hopeful that you’ll finally get something to put in an article, but that relief soon evaporates when you realise that the work isn’t over yet. “Through there.” He nods to the staff door he entered the room through and you smile politely, walking over to it with him. 
“Thank you, Mr Afton, I really appreciate it.” You quickly blurt out your gratitude as he types in a code to open the door, then holds it open for you, but all pleasantries dry up on your tongue when you notice his knuckles are skinned and badly too, it looks recent. Because you’ve stopped dead he looks down at you with a cocked eyebrow, grinning when he notices what you’re staring at. You shake your head at your obviousness, panicking to play it off somewhat cool. 
“Accident at work?” You ask as you fully enter the much darker corridor, which only gets more dim when the door closes behind him. 
Your smile is noticeably strained as you look at him for a response, he meets your eyes and just says, “No.” in a menacingly matter of fact way. God, you think to yourself, this guy is scary, how the fuck does he work with kids? You mouth ‘oh’, playing with your hands to try and steady the growing worry nestling in your gut. 99% of your brain is saying to just leave it and face your boss’s wrath, but the foolish 1% arguing that it can’t get any worse is much too vocal. 
“Keep going. We’re going right to the back.” He pulls you out your thoughts and you obey, skin prickling under his gaze as you walk ahead of him down this staff hallway that seems to be very much lacking staff. The two of you continue until you run out of corridor, a choice between a room on the left or right making you halt. William chooses before you can ask, opening the left door and again propping it for you. 
You smile some gratitude his way as you step through the gap, the close proximity between his bigger frame and yours making you shiver in something akin to fear. 
“Are you cold?” He asks and you get the feeling that he’s mocking you. 
Ignoring it you move on. “Uh a little. Cold and dark back here, huh?” You answer, happy that you did wear your jacket after a toss up about leaving it in the car. 
“And quiet.” He adds, walking past you to take a seat on the chair at the desk in the centre of the room. This office is sparsely decorated and as intimidating as the man it likely belongs to. 
You hesitate to sit yourself, your internal dialogue finally voicing your doubts about this conversation.  “... You know, if you’d rather not have this conversation, it’s okay. I’d hate to think I've put you out…” You trail off but the man doesn’t say anything, just continues looking at you, a slight smile grazing his face. At his lack of reaction you shrug, exasperated. 
“What gave you that impression?” He speaks with amusement, and you very nearly scoff. What gave you that impression? He can’t be serious, he’s been evidently unhappy with your intrusion since the beginning and it’s starting to feel like he’s just trying to scare you off. 
So you say as such. “I don’t know, you don’t seem happy.” 
William chuckles but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He’s been enjoying making you uncomfortable, the widening of your eyes has made his cock hard and he sure as hell isn’t finished yet. But he’ll reel it in for now, lest you try and leave. “That’s just the way I am, sweetheart. There’s a reason why I don’t do the radio ads.” He flashes you a business smile, sitting back in the chair.
You visibly relax a bit at the half joke, satisfied with the explanation that his odd behaviour is just an eccentric personality but you still feel on edge. The only thing keeping you in the room is your work, after all this you need something to show for it, and this guy feels like a golden ticket. 
“I take it, that’s your partner’s role… Henry Emily?” You ask as you pull out the chair on the other side of the desk, hoping that sitting down will force him to look anywhere else other than your body. 
He scoffs a little, “Sure. You didn’t have to look at your notes for his name.” He observes, with an accusatory tone to the words. Sensing bad blood you present him your palms in some kind of surrender. 
“I’ve just never heard of anyone with Emily as their last name. Stuck with me.” You explain, thinking about how much of a nightmare this ballbuster must be to work for.
Looking at him, you find it difficult to read the stern expression on his face, having to look away when he meets your gaze head on. Only looking back at the shuffling sound of him moving the seat back and thudding his shoes on the desk, resting his feet there in a very unprofessional way. 
“You’re lucky you caught me today, Henry can be… funny with pretty young lasses like you.” He considers the word funny and you catch the meaning straight away. If the other guy is “funny” you don’t know what the hell to call this. 
“Lucky me.” You mutter, sarcasm dripping from the words. You didn’t exactly want him to hear that but the grin on his face tells you that he did. It doesn't miss you that this is a pretty handsome bloke, a silver fox, some might say. But the only silver you see is the glinting of a metallic tooth. 
At the beat of silence, he interrupts your thoughts. “You gonna ask me your questions or not?” You blink, quickly reaching for your notepad and pen, fumbling all the way. Whilst you do he smirks to himself at how you probably should have done your shirt up another button because he can see the fabric of your bra peeking over. Not that he minds.
You eventually manage, getting your papers sorted and glancing up to find that the bloke’s eyes had been on you the entire time. “The uh 26th of June, the day the five children  went missing, were you there?” You’ve rehearsed these questions a bunch and they’re written down in front of you, but you still struggle to get it out, sounding pathetic and uncertain. And whilst that may be how you feel, this guy doesn’t have to know that. 
Amusement doesn’t leave his features for a second, “Course I was.” He answers bluntly. 
“And… Did you know any of the victims?” You glance at the sheet with the five names on it, ready to give him them if he needs prompting. 
“Victims?” You curse the choice of words, technically no crimes had occurred, no individual had been found, these kids might not be victims at all. Well of anything more than complete and utter negligence from parents and restaurant staff. But you know as well as him that five children don’t just disappear without anyone having seen them. 
You stumble, “The children. Gabriel, Susan-”
He cuts you off, speaking somewhat meanly. “I don’t make a habit of befriending little kids.” At this point he’s trying to make you feel stupid, and it’s working enough that you glare at him. Poor thing must be getting whiplash, he thinks to himself, you react so plainly to everything he says it’s just delightful. You’re about to give up and move on but he continues, “But I seen them on the day. Recognised some of the pictures the police shown me.” Well that’s the answer you were looking for in the first place, the smug bastard. 
Nodding you veer off track, curiosity spurring your question, “You were interviewed by police?” 
He laughs incredulously, not liking the implications of your questioning. “We all were. Hell, I was fucking liable for it, had to hire more security staff.”  
You continue through your list of questions; what other measures did you put in place? Has the incident affected business? How do you personally feel about the events? And your staff? Each question is answered nonchalantly, a mixture of apparent boredom and sharpness to his responses. You long to ask him if he was this compliant for police, ‘this’ being the bare fucking minimum. Which you suppose could be down to him having to answer all this many times by now. But for some reason it still doesn’t sit right with you. 
After about twenty minutes you’ve got enough to finally put this assignment to bed, which you thank god for at this point. Now you can get away from this man and the gross feeling you get when he locks eyes with you. 
“I think that’ll do it, Mr Afton.” You try to smile politely, though it probably comes off wobbly. “Uh, thank you for your time.”  You add, not wanting to irritate him anymore than you likely already have. 
William nods, taking his feet off the desk and standing. You assume he’s going to get the door for you or something, so you gather your sheets up and push your chair back. Or you try to. Because you instantly bump into his figure behind you, his foot catching the wheels. From above you he can see how your brows immediately knit, confused, scared whatever it is. 
And when you turn to see what he’s doing he angles himself so you’re eye to eye, so to speak, with the bulge in his trousers. Physically jolting in your chair, you almost feel sick. You knew something about this was very wrong and like a fucking idiot you went along with it. And now you’re all alone in a back office with a scary bloke and his fucking boner. You open your mouth to speak, forcing yourself to not turn again, but you let it die when he gets there first. 
“So we’re all done? I’ve given you what you need.” The way he speaks is loaded with intention and it has your legs pressing together, you want to shiver but force yourself into stillness, “But you've not given me anything in return. What are we going to do about that, huh?”
Your mouth is dry, making it hard to form some words. “I-I think you’ve got the wrong idea-”
“Really?” He asks with heavy mock surprise, sucking air through his teeth in a pitying way. You go to continue but a harsh hand suddenly finds grip in your hair, jerking your head to the side so the tent in his trousers is shoved against the side of your face. His body heat is the first thing you register and you instantly repel, pushing your chair back into him hard and panicked. 
He lets you rive yourself free, watching amused as you almost violently turn round, bumping into the desk behind you, your chest heaving with shaky breath. “I had no idea you thought that… that’s- No. No.” You babble excuses trying to de-escalate this futilely, hardly even noticing the cruel way he laughs at you.  
“Uh huh.” He nodded in faux understanding, god the way you look right now, ravaged by panic, makes his cock twitch. William steps close to you and you quiver in response, you’d give anything to be at home, hell anywhere else really, anywhere away from the reality of the dark look in the eyes of the man invading your personal space. “Come on, love. I’ll make it good for you.”
As he speaks his hand roughly cups your breast, your bra doing nothing to disguise the harshness of the touch and you exhale staggeringly from your nose. You try to pull away but his body keeps you there against the desk, his other hand firmly groping your arse. Your body is responding to him but your mind is screaming, it just feels dangerous and wrong and no fluttering in your core can make up for that. 
“Please…” You mutter, your hand pulling at the wrist whose fingers are so intent on prying under your bra. 
He chuckles, easily flicking your hand away and pushing you back on to the desk behind you, forcing you to prop yourself up briefly. It feels like you exist in slow motion because all of a sudden you’re patting along the desktop searching for something to defend yourself with, instinct fully kicking in. Eventually your fingertips brush the spine of a book and the realisation of what you’re about to do is electric in your veins. It comes easily, the movement fluid as you grip the book and slam it hard between his ribs, using your feet to push him away in his vulnerable state. The pained grunt from him is all the confirmation you need to get to your feet and run to the door, throwing yourself out of the room. 
“Jesus… fucking…” He winces, turning himself to see the door close behind you. That hurt like hell, winded him even, you crafty little shit. It’s as he’s trying to get his bearings back, he realises that he probably went too far. Fuck, you won’t get very far without the doorcode, he’ll have to follow you out there.
You get halfway down the corridor before you see the keypad illuminated by the red LED above it, you can’t go back out there, but what fucking else are you suppose to do? You turn around quickly, desperately scanning the hall for anywhere else to go, a fire door or something but no. There’s only the other internal rooms. It takes you a moment to think clearly over the thrumming of your blood but you finally decide on hiding, getting yourself inside one of these rooms and playing the waiting game. This is a restaurant after all, someone else will have to come down here eventually and you can have them open the door for you. It’s the only option. 
You try a few of the doors but find them locked, your frantic searching making the tightness in your chest worse and worse, until you see a heavy metal looking door with a ‘private’ sign on it. The keys are still sticking out the lock. 
By the time he can breathe comfortably enough to go after you, you’re nowhere to be found. He expected you to be standing by the door, perhaps holding another weapon, but no, you’re not there. He frowns, confusion washing over him before he realises that you must seriously be hiding, it makes him laugh. Come on, it’s not like he was going to hurt you. Much. 
The room you’re in is completely pitch black, so much so that you can’t tell if it’s huge or just the illusion of the dark. You stay close to the door, watching the tiny stream of light peeking out from under the door, you watch it like a hawk, waiting for that psycho to walk past. His footsteps are light, but you can just catch them, what’s more suspect is the jiggling of door handles, exactly what you did seconds ago. The thought scares you into action, you’ll have to hide more, there must be somewhere in this room you can stay out of view, so you feel around in the darkness, hands outstretched so you don’t bump into anything. You find shelves separating the room into two halves and as you go around them your fingers brush something big. 
You can feel the presence of something huge in front of you, you trace the cold metal shape, your hands shaking as you feel the dip of an arm. The fright of it makes you flinch away, catching something sticking out from the shelf and it clatters noisily to the floor. 
The sound echoes, your pursuer flinching at the suddenness of it, he turns to the direction it came from and scowls. He’s a fucking idiot for leaving it open, but you, you’re more of an idiot for going in. 
As soon as his hand touches the door handle you cower behind the shelves, hoping the dark will be to your advantage but, knowing the place so well, WIlliam finds the light switch easily. And just like that your plan crumbles to fucking dust. 
Straight away you begin imploring him, stumbling to your feet and distraughtly babbling when his tall figure shuts the door, the metal clanging of the keys immediately following. 
With wide eyes you beg him, “Look… I’m sorry, okay? I really am- I don’t want any trouble-” 
“Well, you’ve fucking found it.” He says jeeringly, a visible tightness in his jaw that hadn’t been there before making your hands clammy. “Don’t you know better than to trespass in private areas? You never know what you might stumble across-” 
“What?” You interrupt, your voice frenzied and threatening to drop any ties to sensibility you have left, “An old store room? The secrets of the trade? I don’t care- I didn’t-” Your barely sensicle plea is cut short by the starling way he moves towards you, fiercely grabbing your arm and spinning you round to look at the half-formed animatronic you had touched. You stare perplexed, before he sighs and a grip takes root on the back of your next, shoving you across the room in front of another decommissioned suit. There he forces you down on your knees and the very second the concrete bruises your skin, your airways are filled with the most vile stench. 
The smell is wrong and your body rejects it instantly, making you gag as you fall back onto your behind, scrambling to get away from it. If you were scared before, it was nothing compared to the sheer terror you feel now. Your eyes are watering from the stench but even through the blurr you make out the dull copper pool that the suit is sitting in. You retch again, this time making him laugh, you stupid little girl. 
“You get it now?” He speaks in a snide way, a sharpness in his tone forcing you to readjust to the gravity of this situation. 
“...What is that?” Your voice trembles, hand coming to cover your nose. You know what it is, somewhere in your gut, deep-set in your dna you know. And it’s incomprehensible. The list of names you abandoned in his office flickers in your mind, making you dizzy. 
The man above you scoffs, palming the erection in his trousers that was probably the hardest it had ever been, and he briefly thinks about how fucked up that is. He lets your question hang in the air for a moment, watching how you stare at the evidence in front of you, your whole body shaking. Before eventually breaking it, “How’s that for your article?” He sniggers, the words dripping with venom. 
You look up at him dumbstruck at what he was almost admitting, before panic-driven getting to your feet, struggling to stand anywhere near this disgusting man or the suit in the corner. The danger surrounding you feels suffocating, making it hard to speak.  “I- fuck my article.” You laugh but it's touching hysteria as you step towards William before stepping back again, “I don't- I won't write anything, I want nothing to do with this. Just, please, let me leave.” 
You search his face for any trace of humanity but it’s void, in its place a sadistic look that only amplifies at the horrified look on your face. As you continue glaring at him, he snickers, “Go on. Keep selling it.” 
It feels more than impossible to keep yourself together, tears of futility are pricking your eyes as you think about whether people would look for you if you never leave this room. You gulp, “I just- want to go home.” You start slow but the words cause a landslide of begging, “I didn’t mean to offend you- I had no idea. I had no idea what would happen… I just wanted to do my- my job.” By the time you’re finished, you’re fully crying.
“Offend me?” He laughs meanly, “And to think you could have just spread your legs for me and you’d be home by now. But no,” He stops chuckling, as he looks you up and down in the most predatory way. “Now, you’re in here with me, wasting my time talking like I could just let you walk out of here.” He shakes his head.
“Please.” You try, but the unmoving look of resolution on his face shows you there’s no hope. He doesn’t feel sorry for you. He doesn’t want to give you mercy. You wrack your brain trying to think about what he does want and it settles on what landed you in here in the first place. 
You step closer to him, praying that your knees will be strong enough to keep you up. He can practically see the cogs turning in your head as you look up at him, your mascara trailing down your cheeks. “I’ll-” You swallow, “I’ll do anything.” 
“Oh yeah?” The sarcasm is palpable. 
You nod frantically, falling into your last hope. You reach for him, hand shaking as you touch  the hardness in his trousers. He watches you, finding immense joy in how weak you’ve become, all you needed was to see a little blood and your resolve shatters. You see his chest settle as he exhales, so you continue, grabbing him over the fabric and trying not to think about what you’re doing. 
“That’s fucking pathetic.” He jeers, loving the way your lip trembles. 
“I’ll do better.” You try, moving to his belt and pulling at the buckle. You’re taking too long to undo it, so he grabs you by the hair, pulling you away so he can do it himself. It makes you wince in pain, but you grit your teeth and bear it, moving with his grip onto your knees before he pulls again. 
Your knees are bruised from earlier, yet that’s the furthest thing from your mind when you’re confronted by his dick, rock hard and big. He’s gifted and you wish you’d just gone along with him earlier, this is 1000x more dehumanising than a skeezy fuck in his office would have been. That thought must register on your face because he jerks your head towards him, roughly. Remembering the bed you’ve made for yourself, you wrap your hand around his length, quickly joining in your other hand and stroking him, forcing yourself not to look at him. He makes a noise you take as a good sign, so you continue. 
Bringing your head closer to him, you run your tongue over his tip, struggling not to grimace at the salty taste of the precum on his cock. The enthusiasm you’re showing him is completely false, a plea for life on the flimsy idea that sucking him off well enough will be your freedom. Slowly you take his head in your mouth and he hisses, grinning in the victory of having you try so hard. You use your tongue to tease him, swirling it around as your hands stimulate him at the base, his groan involuntarily stirring your core. His grip on your hair flexes, impatient at your provocative action and you obey, hollowing your cheeks and taking as much of him as you can, gagging when his tip presses hard in the back of your throat. As you do he holds your head right there, revelling in the way you involuntarily contract around him. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to the intrusion, straight away using your mouth like a toy, shoving his cock in and out in a rhythm that has you desperately clinging on to him silently begging for respite. 
It’s brutal and when he finally pulls back, you gasp for breath, suddenly aware of the saliva trailing down your chin in the most humiliating way. Your jaw aches from the size of him and the moment for breath is near heavenly. He rubs himself on your lips and you’re not sure if the stickiness is him or you, but you take it, sticking out your tongue in a degrading manner that you assume is what he wants. You must be right because he grins. 
“You’ve done this before, huh?” He sneers, his voice thick with restraint because he doesn't want to be done, not just yet. Not before he’s had a taste of your tight cunt.  
You nod as much as you can not wanting your silence to be interpreted as insolence, still giving his cock your full attention, sucking him like you really really want it. But it must not be good enough, because he yanks your head back, forcing you to look up at him as he speaks sharply. 
“Get up.” The command is so firm that you don’t react for a moment, but once it’s registered you trip over yourself trying to obey. You know in your gut that the worst is yet to come. 
You stand in front of him uncertainly, waiting for your next order. It comes in the form of a rough grip on your face, shoving you towards the wall and holding you strict there. William feels like a god with the terrified awe you look at him with, and he is a fucking god, he choses whether you live or die. Whilst mentally praising himself, he pulls your shirt open, ignoring the pop of the buttons and jerks your bra down, exposing your tits to the chill of the room, your nipples are peaked so nicely he can’t resist pumping his dick to the sight of them.  
You stare transfixed at the view before you, too scared to even notice him tugging at your waistband, meanly pulling your trousers from you, set on having you completely vulnerable to him. Some kind of whimper leaves your lips when the clothing hits the floor, only becoming more pathetic when he cups your pussy, nastily pressing his thumb over your clit, it makes your body jolt with unwitting pleasure. You hate yourself for it, after what you’ve come to know how can your core be willing? It’s sick. 
No, he’s sick, you force yourself to think and he keeps up stimulating you, eager to have you fall apart on his cock. You’re going to cry for him and you’re going to fucking love it. He forces your legs further apart and you shiver seeing him lined up with your hole, your slick is a mercy but you still resent it. 
He grips your hip as he forces his cock inside you, making your walls accept him all at once, it hurts and you cry out as he sinks fully to the hilt. You feel full of him, not just your cunt but your blood, your head, like he owns you. The sizzling pain of the stretch fizzles down to a static ache once he starts moving, the difference in height forcing him to lift you up slightly, your weight nothing compared to the tight grip of your pussy.
You’re whining like an injured animal, letting him selfishly fuck you, his pace soon becoming as cruel as it is deep. Partially disassociating all you can think is the rough snap of his hips, punctuated by the clinking of what you assume is his belt. He tilts the angle of your hips so you’re squeezing around him more, rubbing your bundle of nerves maliciously as his tip bruises the part of you that makes you see white. 
“There she is.” He hisses in your face, not relenting for a moment. “That’s how you fucking like it.” As vile as his taunting is, it's based in truth because you can’t deny the unwilling knot in your core that’s strangling you with the need to snap.  And it does, your body going stiff with the intensity of it, it’s all-consuming, inescapable as it seizes you entirely.
He can’t help but explode inside you at the feeling of your walls grasping around him, you go limp in his grip as he fucks you through his end, shoving his cum further and further into you. 
Your ears are ringing as you come to your senses, well, what’s left of them. You’re full of him, his filthy release trickling down your leg. William looks to the side as he gets through his climax, keeping himself wrapped in your heat, his eyes narrowing as a dark thought rears its head: he’s got bigger suits… maybe you’ll fit.
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kentosbabes · 1 year
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DAD SUKUNA PLEAAAAAAAAAAAAASE😭😩😭😩😭😩
to be honest i feel he’s more of a hit and run person he wouldn’t be a very present father but maybe if you were his fave girl he might be a little more attentive. 🫡
Dad Sukuna who has no idea how anything works when you tell him you’re pregnant his first answer is ‘so? what that gotta do with me?.’ He definitely dips in and out of your life during the time in which you’re pregnant. But your his favorite girl so he struggles to stay away too long before you begin to work your way back into his mind.
Dad Sukuna who would spend a couple days with you not just to be present and help you with the pregnancy but so he can fuck you raw. Even when you’re pregnant you still suck him in and feel so warm and wet how is he supposed to stay away? plus you looks so cute waddling around with your plump belly filled his kid, drives him crazy.
Dad Sukuna who was most probably late to the birth if present at all. When he gets there he can hear you screaming from where he stands at reception fighting with a nurse about why he can’t go in. The sound of your cries hits a nerve and he’s sprinting to you. The sight itself makes him stop in his track. ‘i got your back, from right here yeah’ he’d say standing in the corner of the hospital room.
Dad Sukuna who although is the strongest curse is terrified of you when you’re ticked off. Especially now your hormones are fluctuating. Your son is the spitting image of him and shares the same cheeky evil nature. And Sukuna uses it to his advantage, getting his son in trouble by planning a prank on you and just sitting watching as you scold him.
Dad Sukuna who even when he’s away for long periods of time still sends you money every friday same time. On top of that he’s sending you a bouquet of flowers or chocolates once a week to remind you he thinks of you.
Dad Sukuna who will come running to you every-time you call him distressed. Whether it’s work or your son as soon as he heard you crying he’s there helping take care of the situation. Although he often feeds into your sons annoying side when you get annoyed to the point you have to call him, he understands it’s too far. He’d be telling your son off ‘i cant be here all the time kid you gotta be the man and look after your mama yeah?’
Dad Sukuna who hasn’t slept with anyone since you’ve given birth. Not only are you the best pussy he’s had, you seem to plague his mind constantly and no one he even looks at compares to you. You’re perfect in his eyes. you still let him hit, you cook him dinner, you have his son and you don’t beg him to propose. what else could he want?
Dad Sukuna who often thinks about what life could be like if things were different. During dinner times he finds himself enjoying the casual conversations and home cooked meals he can’t help but think about what a domestic life with you would look like.
Dad Sukuna who strides into the school after hearing your sons been in a fight. he completely ignores your screaming telling him to calm down and just walks into the principals office finding his son sitting his head hanging. ‘lift your head up boy. did you win’ and with a quick nod from your son Sukuna is smirking and for a second he feels proud.
Dad Sukuna who breaks into your house to ‘surprise you’. Often he finds you doing the washing or making dinner in which case he’s bending you over his hand flat on your back. ‘we can’t he’s in there’ you’d say talking about your son who’s watching tv in the room nextdoor. ‘so? I pay ur rent I fuck you when I want’ he’d say before ramming his cock into you.
Dad Sukuna who probably finds himself facing jail time due to beating up one of your sons bullies. But he doesn’t care, he’s proud of it and he would do anything to protect his family even if he pretends he doesn’t care.
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justabigassnerd · 10 months
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Baby on Board's... Baby?
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Pairing - Robert 'Bob' Floyd x daughter!reader
Word count - 1,799
Warnings - talks of being left out, pretty much just fluff
Summary - the Daggers find out Bob has a kid and short circuit at the news
A/N - it's fic time! I'm so sorry for how long it's taken for me to get a fic out, I've been going through some shit and I'm only just feeling up to writing. this may not be the best thing I've written, Bob is really fucking hard to write but I have to give a shoutout to @maverick-wingman and @horseslovers2016 for the peer pressure otherwise this fic wouldn't exist in the first place. anyways I'll stop rambling now, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!
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Your grip on your dad’s hand tightened as he leads you towards the looming doors of the Hard Deck.
“You okay, y/n/n?” Bob asks as he stops, turning to face you and crouching down to be at your height. You remain silent, thinking about whether you wanted to tell your dad how you were feeling.
“I’m scared.” You eventually admit, looking down at your shoes as your dad’s face softens at your words.
“Oh, sweet pea, it’s okay to be scared, this is a new place with new people. We don’t have to stay long if you don’t want to. But Phoenix is going to be there, and everyone else is so nice I just know they’ll love you.” Bob says softly, smiling as he notices you perk up at the mention of Phoenix being there.
“Nix?” You ask, your eyes lighting up at the thought of seeing your beloved godmother.
“Yeah, Phoenix is here.” Bob says with a smile as you look to the door of the Hard Deck, eager to see your other favourite human. You hold your arms up as an indication that you want to be picked up and Bob obliges, scooping you up and sitting you on his hip.
“Remember jellybean, if you want to go home, let me know and we’ll head home.” Bob whispers reassuringly, waiting for you to nod before he pushes the door open, searching for his squadron while you eagerly search for Phoenix, using you being in your dad’s arms as a vantage point.
“Nix!” You call out when you see your godmother amongst a group and wiggle to get out of your dad’s arms so you can rush over to Phoenix.
“Hello, y/n/n. How’s my favourite princess doing?” Phoenix beams as she scoops you up effortlessly the moment you reach her, cuddling you close as you giggle, your little arms hugging her as fiercely as you can.
“You got a kid, Phoenix?” Payback questions, eyebrow raised at the sight before him, having missed you calling out to Phoenix and only saw her scooping you up and hugging you tight. At Payback’s words, the rest of the Daggers watched Phoenix carefully as Bob joined the group, unnoticed by everyone.
“I’m her godmother. She’s not mine. She’s Bob’s.” Phoenix says, and at her words, everyone is made hyper-aware of Bob’s presence nearby and Hangman chokes on his beer, coughing loudly as Coyote slaps him harshly on the back.
“Wait, so you’re telling me that Baby on Board actually has a baby?” Hangman manages to say once he’s recovered enough to speak, eye wide as he looks from you in Phoenix’s arms to Bob.
“And you kept her a secret since we met?” Fanboy pesters, shock written all over his face at the realisation of how long Bob had been keeping his daughter a secret from the squadron.
“She stayed with my parents when we were initially called back, I thought it would be a short detachment but when it became permanent, I bought a place and now this is home for us.” Bob says, crossing to Phoenix and skilfully taking you in his arms.
“Then why did you tell Phoenix but not us?” Rooster asks quietly, all of the Daggers wearing a slightly hurt expressions that they were left out of this.
“I figured you guys wouldn’t really care. You guys became your own little group and I’m usually on the sidelines, so I thought it wasn’t worth wasting my breath trying to tell you guys because you’d rather talk about training or dart tournaments. But also y/n is very shy, and you guys can get quite loud, so I wanted to take things at her pace.” Bob explains with a light shrug, a small smile crossing his face when you cuddle closer, burying your face in his neck before you look out at all the people watching you curiously. At Bob’s words the Daggers exchange sorrowful looks, feeling bad for making Bob feel like he couldn’t talk to them or be open about things if he wanted. They knew Bob was quieter than most of the Dagger Squad and he had a tendency to slip away into the background because of how rowdy and loud the group could be. They also knew he was close with Phoenix; it shouldn’t come as a surprise to them at all. Most pilots got on well with their WSOs, they needed to have a strong trust between them, and Phoenix was the first person to act welcoming towards Bob when the team became aware of his presence that first night in the Hard Deck.
“Hey, we’re really sorry man. We never meant to make you feel like you weren’t part of the group, because you are. You’re a badass and have been since the uranium mission. You got a lock on the structure which is more than I can say, we’re lucky Rooster managed to drop blind and hit the target.” Fanboy says, looking down and then glancing back up as Bob moves, handing you to Phoenix so he could cross to Fanboy.
“Don’t put yourself down Fanboy, you were picked for the mission for a reason, and you’ve been picked for more since then. You’re a great wizzo, Payback’s lucky to have you.” Bob says, patting Fanboy on the shoulder and glancing over at Payback who nods in agreement before clapping Fanboy on the back as Bob moves back to Phoenix, taking you in his arms. As Bob takes you back into his arms, the team exchange knowing nods, vowing that they’ll never let Bob feel like his thoughts and stories didn’t matter as much and that they’d include him more. As they looked back at Bob, they caught Phoenix’s eye who simply raised an eyebrow. She had stayed quiet on Bob’s request because he didn’t want to be a bother although Phoenix insisted, he’d never be a bother to her or the team. Part of her had hoped the team would notice that Bob had a tendency to disappear into the background and that they’d include him a little more but apparently, it took Bob bringing his daughter to actually get attention.
“So, how old’s baby Bob?” Payback asks, the team keeping a distance so as to not overwhelm you. You heard Payback’s question and held up three fingers while keeping yourself as buried in your dad’s embrace as possible.
“Three? Damn, kid that’s the best age to be.” Hangman says with a grin, making you look at him, offering him a small smile when you make eye contact. Intrigued by the man who had told you that being three was the best, you squirmed in your dad’s arms, requesting to be put down and when Bob obliged, you toddled over to Hangman, looking up at him curiously before holding your arms up for him to pick you up. Hangman looked over at Bob who nodded, giving him permission to scoop you up into his arms as you giggled. Hangman carefully navigated sitting you on his shoulders, holding on to your legs as you admire being high up. Hangman carefully walks over to the jukebox, taking you off his shoulders, sitting you back on his hip and pointing out which buttons you need to press to play a song, making sure it was appropriate for you to listen to. After putting the song on, Jake places you down on the floor and dances with you, twirling you effortlessly as you giggle and dance along to the music as the Daggers watch on with large smiles. When the song ends, the Daggers clap as you dart back over to your dad and are immediately scooped up into your dads’ arms. Rooster quirked an eyebrow when he noticed you turn your attention to the piano, looking at it curiously.
“Does y/n like piano?” Rooster asks, crossing to Bob who notices your stare at the piano.
“My parents have one at their house, but it mostly sits there collecting dust. It probably reminds her of her grandparents.” Bob says, bouncing you lightly on his hip. Getting an idea, Rooster crosses to the jukebox and unplugs it, eliciting a groan from every patron in the bar as Rooster sat himself at the piano, playing some light notes, his fingers dancing across the keys masterfully. Bob and the others cross to the piano, knowing where Rooster is going with his piano playing. Bob sits you on top of the piano, keeping a hand braced on your back just in case you leant back too far, and Rooster then began playing ‘Great Balls of Fire’ getting the whole bar singing in seconds. You picked up the ‘goodness gracious, great balls of fire’ lyric quickly and were soon attempting to join in whenever the bar sang that one lyric. When the song concludes, you clap as loud as your little hands will allow as the patron’s whoop and cheer. Bob picks you back up and everyone moves to sit down at tables to converse some more over some drinks and snacks. The Daggers involve Bob in their conversations and ask questions about not only him but you, arranging a day for you, your dad, and the team to go to the beach to spend some more time together, naming themselves your new cool uncles, earning a raised eyebrow from Phoenix and Bob. The moment a small yawn slipped past your lips; Bob was up on his feet instantly while keeping you in his arms.
“I should think about heading home, it’s almost y/n’s bedtime.” Bob says, addressing the Daggers who all bid him and you goodnight as Phoenix gets to her feet.
“Night night y/n/n.” Phoenix whispers, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.
“Night night, Nix.” You mumble, clinging to your dad and burying your face in his shirt as you wave goodbye to the rest of the Daggers who give you waves of their own. Bob then exits the Hard Deck, crossing to his car and buckling you into your car seat before brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.
Unbeknownst to Bob, Hangman crossed to the door of the bar, leaning against the frame as he watches the car pull away. The second the car was out of his line of sight he entered the bar, eyes gleaming with joy at what he had seen as he crosses back to the Daggers who all, bar Phoenix, looked up at him with bated breath, each of them hoping they won the bet the team had quickly made. All eyes were on Hangman as he opened his mouth to speak.
“He’s got a baby on board sign in the window.”
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bobattea · 11 months
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Can you please do a jouno x reader smut where they’re on a mission and stay at a hotel and oh no 😱 there’s only one bed what ever will they do ❤️
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Pairing: Jouno Saigiku x Reader Warnings: Language, NSFW, Smut, Hate sex, its rough, lil bit of violence, Sadist!Jouno, Oral (M receiving),lots of hair pulling, degradation Word Count:1643 A/N: I decided to go with a rivalry/enemies to lovers kind of thing it makes it more spicy. Think 'sweetheart but like rivalry' and 'darling but I can't stand you' vibes. I hope you don't mind, hopefully i didn't drag it on too much.
“EXCUSE ME?!” You slam your hands down on the desk while springing up from your seat, giving your captain the dirtiest look you could muster. 
“No shouting during meetings Y/n you know better than that.” Jouno answered in an unimpressed tone to match his face. 
“You shut your damn mouth!” You whip your head around in his direction as you flash him a hostile glare but he doesn't need to see your face to know just how angry his response made you though he seemed satisfied with your reaction, your raised heartbeat and body temperature was a big enough indicator. Fukuchi had the bright idea of sending you on a mission with the person you hated the most and that was Jouno of all your other fellow comrades it had to be him! 
“Out of all of us, you two butt heads the most, it'll be a bonding experience! While Jouno may hate Tetcho but they still work together now it's just to get you two to work together.” Teruko gave you a sickly sweet smile but something was off about it. “unless, you’d like to argue with me on this.” her sweet smile quickly turned evil, one that you really shouldn't challenge, Teruko was someone you never want to argue with no matter what it's about. You straightened yourself back up and took your seat turning your head away from Jouno’s direction just looking at him makes your blood boil.
“Fine but if I come back with Jouno’s head on a stick, don't blame me.” You shrug. It was inevitable that the two of you were gonna have it out at some point during the mission. Everyone knew that they were just sad they didn't have a front row seat to the brawl. 
“Bold of you to assume I won't return with your head on a stick.” Jouno retorted with a smirk it just made you see red.
“Why I otta-” Tetcho grabs your wrist to stop you from leaving your seat. “Tetcho, lemme at him! One smack and I'll be content!.” He didn't budge, his grip tightened and you sigh in defeat and slump back in your chair.
“What a pain.” Jouno retorts, you choose to ignore him this time.
 “Let's get this over and done with, when do we leave?”
****
“How long do they believe we are gonna be on this mission that they actually booked a hotel.” you grumbled as the two of you headed to your room. Jouno was choosing to ignore you at this point, he hadn’t spoken a word since you both left for the mission. “I’m pretty sure ignoring me is cheating.” 
He was persistent, unlocking the door the two of you entered seeing nothing but one bed, another doorway leading to the bathroom. 
“Well this is nice.” Jono finally spoke, you scoffed looking at the room with utter disgust. He can’t even see the fact there is one bed. How can this be nice! 
“You’ve got to be kidding me! That’s it, that's the last straw! You are on your own.” You turn to leave but he grabs hold of your upper arm with a tight grip. 
“You’re not leaving. We have orders to complete this mission and you will complete it.” His tone was a warning but his face was a different story he always had that smile on his face one that could trick anyone into trusting him and letting their guard down but you knew better. Jouno was right you were going to stay because after weighing your options you’d rather be on the receiving end of his temper than Teruko’s at least with him you had a fighting chance. 
“Let go of me.” You shove your arm out of his grip as you narrowed your eyes. “I’m sleeping in the tub. I would rather die than sleep in the same bed as you.” Stomping your way to the bathroom then you let out a frustrated groan. “THERE IS NO TUB!”  followed by a thud. “Ow.” 
“Fucking idiot.” Jouno scoffed. 
****
The rest of the day went painfully slow as you and Jouno investigated the area before returning to the hotel room. He was constantly stepping on your toes, making you doubt your observations and then belittling you. You tried so hard to ignore and make do but you can only bottle up so much rage before exploding which has caused you to be pressed up against the wall with Jouno pounding relentlessly into you from behind. A mix of moans and insults from both you and him filled the room.   
“Tch, is that really all you got?” You taunt, his grip on your hips tightened and his free hand went to your hair grabbing a fist full of it, yanking your head back causing you to inhale sharply with a smirk.
“What was that? Did you say something,Slut?” He tilted his head, his voice low in your ear you could feel his jaw clenched. God if you actually liked this guy you’d compliment how hot he looks.
“Slut huh? Insult of the century.” a loud spank to your ass causing you to yelp at the sudden impact. “I hate you.” Jouno’s teeth grazed your ear then down your neck before he bites down and sucks harshly before he  pushes your head back to the wall, your cheek colliding with a loud  thud. He didn't care if he was hurting you. In fact, knowing that he’s hurting you was soothing his rage but every time you open your damn mouth his rage is fueled again and his thrusts were more harder than the previous one hitting all the right spots.  
He can feel you getting close, your moans becoming louder and he could feel you clenching around his cock. Jouno’s face contorts into disgust. How dare you enjoy this, he stops and pulls out of you causing a whine to escape your lips at the sudden emptiness then a bitter laugh. 
“Had enough al- '' Jouno’s  hand struck your cheek then it went around your throat, he pulled you close to his face. For once you didn't see his fox-like smile at all tonight as out of character for Jouno as it is, he really despises you but it doesn't take a genius to figure that out. 
“Another word out of you and I'll make sure you won’t utter another word ever again.” He threatens his voice laced with venom. You bite down on your cheek before spitting in his face and mouthing another ‘fuck you’ afterwards. Jouno chuckles darkly, a sadistic smile briefly appears before he pushes you to your knees. “Shall we put that mouth of yours to good use.” You look up at him through narrowed eyes, he pulls at your hair again and he bends down to your level. “If you use your teeth I will ruin you.”  He promises. Jouno was challenging you, he wants to hurt you, he wants to ruin you and you want to hurt him too. You open your mouth to shoot him a snarky remark but before you can even get a word out he’s already shoved his cock down your throat making you choke and your hands fly to his thighs, squeezing your nails into his skin as hard as you can. “Oh did that hurt?” he mocks the tone you used earlier with false sympathy and you squeezed his thighs harder in response leaving crescent moon shapes in his thighs. Jouno continues to use your mouth chasing his own pleasure. You're not talking he can almost pretend it isn't you at all. It's almost pure bliss. 
With each move of your head the tip of his cock is hitting the back of your throat causing your eyes to water, tears slipping down your cheeks and drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. How dare he use you for his pleasure. It should be the other way around you weren't going to let him have any satisfaction! You slowly tried to close your jaw letting your teeth graze his dick but he knows Jouno always fucking knows, he pulls you off him and drool falls form your mouth. 
“You can’t behave for a single second can you? Incompetent as usual.” He spits gripping your hair tightly he pulls you from the floor and hauls you to the bed pushing you down face first into the mattress. Jouno grabs your waist tightly and pulls your hips closer to his as he lines himself up with your entrance before slamming into you at an unforgiving pace. Moans and skin slapping skin filled the room once again. “F-fuck.” He groaned as his thrusts became more sloppy, Jouno was close cumming he just needed a little longer for you to learn your place and to fuck the attitude out of you. You were close too and your orgasm was fast approaching. 
His hand finds its way to your hair once again pulling you up so he can bite down on your neck again leaving more hickies in his wake. Your hand snakes its way to his neck then the back of his head and you pull his hair in return a moan escapes his mouth and your lips curl into a triumphant smirk but in a swift motion you are back to being pushed into the mattress with one hand behind your back. Jouno’s pace changed and his thrusts were more sloppy than before as he chased his own orgasm and with a loud moan you both came undone at the same time. 
The room finally falls silent as the two of you catch your breath then Jouno pulls out and breaks the silence. 
“Now try tell me you hate me after that.”  His stupid smile appears again and he leaves for the bathroom, you hear him shuffling around before the shower starts. You hate him maybe even more now but fuck was that good. You pick up the pillow that’s behind you and smother your face so you can let out a loud muffled scream in frustration.
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pix3lplays · 10 months
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Hello!! I know some people get squicked out by this subject so don’t worry about answering if you don’t want to, but can I request HSR men (Welt, Sampo, Jing Yuan, Gepard, anyone else you enjoy writing for) accidentally getting their s/o pregnant?
I imagine Natasha would hunt down Sampo and drag him back to the clinic to talk bc s/o came to her crying and doesn’t know how to tell him. The rest of the boys I feel like would roll with the punches and handle it just fine.
✨ may your 5 stars be early :D ✨
Hey there! Yeah I have no problem with this prompt, I’m eager to write it, thank you for sending it in!
And thank you so much hehe, may yours be as well!
Cw! Pregnancy
-Honkai Star Rail men accidentally getting their s/o pregnant-
Welt Yang: Welt Yang I feel would notice the signs that something’s not quite right with you, but I doubt he’d suspect he accidentally got you pregnant. He just assumes your feeling a little sick or something. Until you decide to take a test because…what if? And wouldn’t you know it…pregnant. Oh he feels bad about it. He didn’t mean to. He wanted to sit down and discuss having children with you and now he’s shoved you into this parenting thing without consulting you. The man wanted to have children, but he didn’t want things to happen like this. He’ll ask you if you want to keep the baby, but deep down he’s hoping you’ll say yes, though he’ll respect your decision either way. And when you do say you want to keep the baby, he feels…warm inside. It was an accident, but your family is growing a little bigger, and the Astral Express crew is so excited by your announcement. Welt and the crew eagerly await the arrival of your baby, and you almost forget that things weren’t supposed to happen quite this way. Welt would feel like he has to make it up to you for accidentally getting you pregnant, even if you insist he doesn’t. He does all sorts of things to take care of you during your pregnancy, and he’ll always be there for you. Just call his name.
Sampo Koski:(I’m just gonna use your idea, I loved it, I hope you don’t mind!) You had no idea what to do. You knew Sampo didn’t want kids, but now here you were…pregnant. So you go to Natasha to confirm the results, and while you’re there you can’t help but break down in front of the doctor, crying because you want to have this baby, but you don’t know what Sampo is going to do. Natasha agrees to go find him for you. And when she explains the situation and brings him to you, he’s not happy. You…actually want his accidental baby? Well he doesn’t. He’ll try to encourage you to get rid of it. No need to have a child disrupting what you have, right? What you have is so good. Just you and Sampo against the world. He doesn’t need the responsibility of raising a child. But you’re determined. And you try to tell him he might like fatherhood, though he’s hard to convince. Your pregnancy is one of those rare moments where you get to see Serious Sampo, and it’s a little…bizarre to be honest. To see him so…genuine and sincere about what he wants. And what he wants is to not have a kid. But he’ll take care of you. Even if he disagrees with what you’re doing. He doesn’t stop trying to convince you to get rid of it, but once he realizes your mind really is made up, he’ll drop it and give up. There’s no point fighting with you. Your much more stubborn than he is.
Jing Yuan: Jing Yuan prefers for things to be planned out, but he’s also excellent at improvising. And you’re essentially ordering him to improvise when you announce he accidentally got you pregnant. Well he takes the news very calmly, very properly, like a newly expecting father should. “Ah, my bad…” is what he says, with a charming smile that suggests he isn’t really sorry. I think he would encourage you to keep the baby. He’s wanted to have children with you for a while now, maybe this was fate… And he’s overjoyed when you agree that you’d like to keep the baby. He’ll treat you very well. Yes, this was an accident, but the way he behaves makes it seem like he’s been prepared for this for a long time. Truthfully he’s been wanting to have the kids discussion with you, but this works too. He wants you to know he’s fully on your side and supportive of you during your pregnancy. And he lets you know just how excited he is to meet his child. (Yanqing doesn’t know how to feel about getting a sibling lolol)
Gepard Landau: OH this poor man. He apologizes so, SO profusely, begging for your forgiveness, telling you he didn’t mean to, that it was just an accident and when you reassure him that it’s OK, he asks what you want to do next. Well. You’d like to keep the baby, to be honest. The two of you have only talked about it a bit, but you both agreed you’d like to be parents should the opportunity ever present itself, and here it was. Maybe not how you were expecting it, but it still works, right? Gepard is excited! He’s been wanting to be a father for some time now, and even if this was happening all too suddenly, and because of an accident, at least it was Happening finally! He does his best to take time off work so he can take care of you, but he’s still a busy man. He does his best though, for you, and your future child.
Luocha: doesn’t want kids. But you couldn’t possibly know that. Not from the way he smiled so calmly at you and congratulated you for your pregnancy, even if it was an accident. But inwards he’s screaming at himself. Why did he have to be so careless, and get you pregnant?! But you seemed so happy, so he’ll bite his tongue. He takes great care of you during the pregnancy process. His medical skills means he’s extra prepared for this scenario. He’s always smiling, asking how you’re feeling…he doesn’t even subtly encourage you to not want the baby or anything. But oh, deep down he’s not happy. But you’re happy. You’re more important to him. So he’ll be a father to his child. He’ll take responsibility for his actions. He sees fatherhood more as a duty…a responsibility than anything else. (Now I’m imagining a scene where he gets frustrated at his kid and tells them they were an accident and he never wished for them to exist :0) (I’m just very convinced Luocha doesn’t want to be a father)
Hehe this was a fun one…I’ll do some more guys if requested!
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princessbrunette · 3 months
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imagine meeting rafe by babysitting for toddler!wheezie?????
-🦭
stop this is sooo cute i love writing big brother rafe with toddler wheeze :(
𐙚🍼⋆.˚♡
he’s more pissed than anything at first, wondering why on earth his father didn’t trust him to be a responsible adult and care for his little sister now that ward was away on business more times than not. the last thing rafe wanted was a stranger snooping around and weaselling their way into the benefits that came along with being a cameron.
his mind changed when he saw just how pretty you are, and not just that — how sweet and polite too. he hangs out in the doorway watching you play with his sister, trying to put on an expression that showcased scepticism but it always softened to intrigue. wheezie loved you, and he couldn’t even question why.
the boy wanders in, watching you knelt beside the curly haired toddler in your cute little summer dress and big smile. “soooo, i’m thinking… we should go and get ice-cream!” you grin, emphasising the last part to catch her attention. it works, and she claps excitedly with a squeal.
“i’ll drive us.” rafe suddenly pipes up and your head spins to him, blinking a few times in surprise.
“oh, really?” you smile politely, if not a little awkwardly at the sudden appearance of the child’s oldest brother who you’d seen floating around.
“well i’ve got nothing to do… and i figured i should get to know the person spending all this time with my little sister.” he shrugs, pulling his hands out his pockets to swing his car keys round his finger.
“yes, of course.” you submit to the idea, clambering to your feet as wheezie runs towards him.
“raaa—e!” she yells happily, pummelling into his legs before he bends down to swoop her up, planting her on his hip.
“hey, kiddo.” he pinches her nose briefly making her sniff and giggle. you grab your purse and send rafe a kind smile, letting him lead the way to his car. he hands you the kid, which feels odd and parental of the two of you and he quickly sets up the car seat in his car, letting you fasten wheezie inside. you hover by the passenger door, unsure of whether or not he’d rather you sit in the back. “go ahead.” he nods obviously and you climb in, placing your hands in your lap, making one sided conversation with wheezie to settle some awkwardness.
the two of you chat, rafe asking most of the questions about where you’re from and what you did before babysitting — the polite interrogation feeling like another interview for the position, but you didn’t mind — it was understandable that the current man of the house would wanna know who was practically living in it with him all of a sudden.
things get more comfortable as the two of you get chatting, walking into the icecream parlour as a three. he didn’t know he’d like the feeling so much, thinking on it as he glances at you pointing out the different colours of icecream behind the glass to his little sister. he’s fishing in his wallet as he does so, paying for the three of you. it made him feel… good. important. he hadn’t much thought of having children before, he knew he wanted to one day but it seemed like a far away thought. having a cute little baby, and a pretty gentle girl by his side calmed him, gave him the sense of authority he was looking for.
he has to remind himself not to place a hand on your lower back when you walk to the little table, chuckling himself when you let wheezie take her own spoon and messily feed herself.
“good job honey!” you coo as she manages to get some into her mouth before offering you the saliva covered spoon. “ohhh, no thank you!”
rafe decided he must have you, and seeing as you were now living in his house, ward being on a long trip — it would make things a lot easier. his own practice family, with you.
𐙚🍼⋆.˚♡
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j-niret · 10 months
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✩‧₊˚ pairing — bf!lee minho x hyperfem!f!reader warnings — fluff, light smut (didn’t go too much in depth), minho is a soft dom, a lowkey salty minho (you’ll see why hehe), breeding kink, taking pics during ya know what (w/ consent ofc), mentions of aftercare
✩‧₊˚ requested? no!
title means “photograph” in japanese. can you tell i was listening to drive while writing this? 🤭
you think you might actually have an online shopping addiction… yet another package arrived waiting for you at the doorstep. you excitedly skip to the door and pick up the box sitting on the porch, wasting no time to run upstairs and pry it open. “oh god.. not another one,” minho face palms at your buying compulsion, “no wonder the mail lady knows you on a personal level, she’s practically here more than me!” you roll your eyes, paying zero attention to him as you greedily pull out all the new adorable plushies you purchased. you now finally have the korilakkuma plush with a pink fluffy bunny hat in your possession and you couldn’t be happier. “hush, needed this for my collection and the bun was too cute to pass up!” your voice slightly squeaks towards the end as you held the 13” plush close to your heart.
he sighs, there’s absolutely no hope in getting you to stop it’s just something he’s going to have to deal with. he always teases you for buying the most random items, anything remotely interesting or another cute ad from tiktok you’d buy it blindly only to have most of it collect dust on your shelves or closet. minho was starkly different than you, he was much more conscious of the things he bought — unless it came to accessories for his cats or expensive ingredients he tries in advancing his cooking skills. he was a humble minimalist while you needed to have everything under the sun. he secretly adored the way your face would light up at the ring of the doorbell every time to alert you had a new package; he knew you loved him before anything but your obsession with online shopping was running a very close second.
“what do you do with all these plushies anyways? they can’t talk, can’t make you food, send daily cat pics, or even make you feel as good as i do. i don’t get the hype!” minho sounded so bitter, it was probably because you were giving the plushies more attention than him. “awwh, is my wittle baby getting jealous of some stuffies?” you tease, giggling at him feeling fake betrayed. “why would i be jealous of inanimate objects? don’t use that baby tone on me, only i can do that to you!” he hissed, giving you piercing glare. “shh, don’t say that, they’re listening!” you gasp while covering the plushie’s ears at his insult, you really treated all of them like your babies. “it’s nice you care more about them than your breathing and alive boyfriend right in front of you but i guess that’s okay.” he mutters sarcastically. was he actually mad at you? you really couldn’t tell at this point.
minho had a peculiar sense of humor in which sometimes you couldn’t detect if he was actually joking or not, he’d say things with the straightest face and you’d sit there pondering his intention. he still held a calm demeanor but his words seemed to affect you more than usual. why were you getting so worked up right now? “a-are you mad? did i do something wrong..?” you whine, lowering your head trying not to look at him. “what? no. just messing around petal, you know i like to play.” he chuckles, resting his hand under your chin to perch your head up, “look at me when i talk to you.” he orders sternly, forcing to make eye contact with him as you press your thighs together underneath the pleated tennis skirt you wore. you had no words left to say but before you could utter anything his lips shape into a mischievous smirk, “how ‘bout i pump a few kids in you while you hold onto the precious bun for dear life? sound good?”
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
he was right when he said you’d need to hold on for dear life, you suffocated the poor plushy as you whimpered and cry out to him. “m-minho— can’t- can’t take more, please- t-too much!” you struggle to conjure up words but his pace still won’t let up. eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he sends more deep thrusts your way, holding your leg up high in the air. what a stunning sight under him, your gorgeous body splayed under the bed in this lewd position all for him; keeping only the tennis skirt and ruffle trim socks you wore upon his request. “what’s that petal? said you want more?” he coos, producing harsher strokes, feeling the heat inside rush to your core, squeezing the plush bun while your face contorts. his veiny hand cascades your whole body, ending up on your tummy to lock you steady in place. you really are the prettiest thing to him.
the acceleration of his hips driving into you almost brought tears to your eyes but you put your big girl pants on and suck it up, you wanted to prove to minho that you were his good girl. “mmm.. so perfect for me petal, such a good girl for taking all of me so beautifully.” he husks, sending comforting praises “you’ll be rewarded well for this kitten.” his expression goes from focused to being engrossed by something else. his cell phone??? you watch in bemusement as he picks it up to unlock it with face ID, still never slowing down his speed. minho proceeds to open the camera application, pointing the phone towards you, you attempt to shy away but he gets upset by this. “no don’t move, you look too cute right now, i need to capture this forever. can i?” you nod, it was kind of him to ask but you’d do anything he says anyway. he snaps a couple quick shots of you before tossing his phone to the side, those pics will definitely come in handy on the days he can’t have you.
minho never left you with empty promises, he kept his word and milked every last drop he had, painting his own pretty picture in you. his body collapsed on top of yours, catching a moment to breathe while caressing the apex of your stained inner thighs. trailing lazy kisses down your neck as he praises how good you were for him. his sweet voice is like a melody to your ears, a total sucker for the way he treats you after being in dom mode. “let me go run you a bath, i’ll get you all nice and cleaned up petal.” he pats your thigh before getting up. a warm bubble bath was much deserved, you were in desperate need to soak your aching body. you didn’t even notice that you still had the plushy in your hands, surprised you committed to it for so long. you were excited to take your bath but knowing minho’s stamina… this may just be another excuse for a round 2.
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lilacsbeeswax · 6 months
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hiiiiiii could you write a lorenzo berkshire x reader where it’s best friends to lovers where they confess ask each other on a date and it’s really cute and super fluffy?
Mistletoe
Pairing: Lorenzo Berkshire x gn!reader
Fluff
Warnings: Semi-Suggestive Joke, Metaling Friends, Mild Swearing, and A Kiss
Notes: I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly what you asked for! I started writing it and I could stop once I started, but I’d say it’s still around your request. If you’d like me to right a new one send me it in my inbox or DM me, thank you 💕💕
MASTERLIST
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For me, weekends at Hogwarts were always filled with either studying and fun with friends. Every Friday night since 2nd year Pansy, Lorenzo, Draco, Blaise, Mattheo, and Theodore would meet in someone’s dorm (more commonly one of the boys’) and hangout. Sometimes people would drop to go on dates or study for big tests, but it was usually the majority of us.
This particular night in December, Pansy and Blaise dropped for some big test in some class I’m convinced no one else took and Draco was… now that I think about it I have no idea. Lorenzo and I had taken it upon ourselves to get Christmas decorations to brighten up the dorm he, Mattheo, and Theo shared. With some light complaining from the other boys, we quickly got into decorating.
“Okay, so we got the tree up,” Theo began, gesturing toward the sad little evergreen in the corner, “Now I say Mattheo and I finish putting the ornaments on while you,” he pointed at me, “and Enzo put up the green stuff.”
“For a guy who was complaining so much you’re really getting into this decorating gig,” I commented.
“Also, why the fuck did you just call garland green stuff?” Mattheo asked incredulously, giving all of us a laugh.
“Because I stole a little something to go with the garland, but you guys will have to figure that one out on your own,” he sent a wink toward Enzo and I.
“Okay…?” I responded confusedly, opening the box full of garland, or ‘green stuff’.
“So, do you want to put the garland around the window and door frames?” Enzo suggested, blocking out the noise of Mattheo and Theo loudly laughing and decorating.
I smiled and said, “That sounds great, you want to start with the door?”
After much struggle we finally finished the door frame and were incredibly pleased with our handy work.
We stood back and admired the green pine garland. “Nice work Mr. Berkshire!” I exclaimed hold my hand up for a high five.
He immediately reciprocated the gesture and replied, “I couldn’t have done it without my lovely partner in decoration.”
“Do just want to keep decorating the door and then move on to the window?” I asked. “I think I saw some…” I paused realizing the implication of Theo’s earlier comments. “Mistletoe in the box.”
I glanced over at Theodore and Mattheo, who both wore massive grins. Mattheo stretched and said, “And that’s my cue to get out of here.”
“Wait, why are you leaving?” Enzo asked his brow furrowed.
“I’m gonna head out too,” Theo smirked. “You crazy kids be careful.”
“What?!” I questioned, “Where are you guys going? This is your dorm!”
“Don’t do anything I would do!” Mattheo yelled from behind him as he and Theo practically ran down the hallway.
Slightly stiff in confusion I shut the door and turned around. I asked, “What the fuck just happened? And what does that even mean?”
“What now?” Enzo said just standing there in shock.
“I guess we keep decorating.”
And we did, we finished the door and put up the garland around the window. And just as we were finishing up, Enzo said, “Wait, we forgot something.” He jumped off the ledge of the tall window and onto the floor picking up the mistletoe. He dangled the herb from his fingers and shook it with a smile, quickly jumping back up onto the window sill. “I thought this would be the perfect place for it.”
He reached up and placed the yarn loop onto a hook made for a plant then looked back down at me. My cheek heated up as I realize the implication of us standing under the mistletoe. I breathed out, “Hi.”
“Hi.” He smiled. “I suppose per tradition, we should kiss… that is if you’d want to.”
“I would like that… a lot.” My heart hammered in my chest as we slowly got closer and closer together, silently daring each other to close the gap.
“Would go like to go on a date with me sometime?” Enzo asked his voice wavering slightly. I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Yes!” I said, finally closing the gap between us, while simultaneously opening a brand new door to our friendship, a romance.
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MASTERLIST
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