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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 2 months

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anniversary antics

pairing: joel miller x f! reader

cw/tags: pwp, breeding kink (literally that's the fic), unprotected p in v (duh), dirty talk, established relationship (they're happily married?!), not beta read, written in one evening

summary: literally breeding kink

wc: 1.3k words

You’d always heard that married couples don’t have sex very often. You’d been warned about these ‘dead bedrooms’ by friends of yours, read about it on the internet – it was basically common knowledge.

Maybe there’s some truth to it, but you wouldn’t know because you married Joel Miller who gets older and sexier every day. Joel Miller, your husband who took you out to a nice dinner for your anniversary and sat across from you acting all polite and charming in his brand new suit, your husband who ripped your dress off the moment he got you through your front door.

Now you lie naked under him, already disheveled and ready to take whatever he’ll give you. You’re face-to-face with the man who makes you weak like no other. You affect him equally, you drive him wild, fill him with a fiery need that surpasses all other desires.

Though it takes all of your mental fortitude to fight the pull of arousal, your sensible self still peeks through for a moment.

“Joel, I’m pretty sure I’m ovulating right now.”

Joel slips back into his serious, practical, typical demeanor easily. A completely different man from the one who was sucking marks into the taut skin of your neck just a moment ago.

“Okay. You want me to pull out or do you wanna use a condom?” he asks as if those are the only two options.

“We can do whatever you want.” You shouldn’t tell him what you want.

“It’s not just about me. It’s your body, baby.” He leans in and whispers his next words into the shell of your ear: “tell me what you want.”

His voice is low and commanding. It makes you nervous for all the wrong reasons. You should be worrying about the consequences of doing this while you’re ovulating, you should be assessing the risks, but you can only think of the reward.

“I, uh- what if you didn’t do either of those things?”

“You mean you want me to cum inside you? Is that it?” He remains straight-faced, seemingly unfazed by something that’s been a kink you’ve kept secret for so long, believing it to be too taboo.

He’s not even inside you yet, he’s looming over you, skin barely ghosting over yours, but his words alone make you exhale a breathy moan, and he knows.

“You do want that, huh?” He gets that cocky grin on his face, proud of himself for figuring out what makes you tick, though it was hardly a mystery.

One of his hands remains by your head, balancing himself above you while the other is wrapped around his dick as he drags the head along your folds.

You grip the pillow and turn your head to the side, burying your face in it, determined not to let him hear the sounds coming from your mouth right now.

“I know how bad you want it, baby, but I think she wants it even more than you do,” he says, focusing on your cunt, playing with it and reveling in the lewd sounds that come with every swipe of his tip along your slit. “Listen to that,” he says

He’s silent for a second, letting you hear the slick noises of your wetness.

“I need you to look at me, sweetheart.” He ceases his teasing between your legs and brings his hand up to your face to cup your chin.

Hesitant to meet his eyes but desperate to have him inside you, you give in and look at him.

“Baby, she’s cryin’ ‘cause she needs it so bad. Are we gonna give it to her?”

“Only if you want to.” Translation: yes, please.

His tone is deeper, voice thick with conviction, when he replies. “Baby, you have no idea how bad I want it.”

You shouldn’t be surprised, and yet you are.

“Gimme your hand,” he says. “I want you to feel how hard I am right now.”

You oblige, let him take your hand and guide you to wrap your palm around his cock. It twitches in your grasp. “I didn’t know it could get this hard,” you say.

“Only when I’m with you.”

You shift your hips while you hold his cock steady lining it up with your entrance. “Please,” you whine, gazing up into his eyes.

His answer isn’t verbal. He eases into you, letting you feel his length stroke your inner walls as he gradually presses himself deeper.

“It feels so good,” you moan.

You wrap your arms around him, holding onto him like you’re afraid you’ll lose him.

“I know.” His voice is raspier now, barely hiding his own desperation. “Baby, just so you know, if you want me to stop-”

“-No! Don’t stop.” You wrap your legs around his hips, keeping him inside you, using your heels to force him even deeper.

He laughs – so much as one can when they’re running out of breath. “Or if you want me to pull out.” There’s a glint in his eye, he’s not ‘checking in with you’, he’s teasing you. “If you don’t want me to get you pregnant…”

On cue, your walls clench around him, betraying any facade of composure, and the smirk is already waiting on his face.

“I knew it,” he says. “You want me to get you knocked up, huh?”

In a haze, eyes half-lidded and empty of all thoughts but Joel getting you pregnant, you mumble in agreement, “uh-huh.”

“I could put a baby in you right now,” he says as if it’s some revelation. He continues to act flippant to tease you, but it’s getting to him too – you can hear it in his voice, rough and raspy.

The coil inside you tightens, so close to snapping, you can feel it. “Joel, I’m gonna cum.” It’s urgent, a warning, not a plea.

“Mm-hmm. You can cum for me. But I’m not gonna stop until I get you pregnant, baby.”

And that’s what brings you over the edge. Your walls clench around him, keeping him inside you, and your nails drag down his back, leaving marks, claiming him, knowing he’s about to make you his too.

You cum so hard you nearly scream but it’s all unintelligible aside from his name.

He doesn’t give you a second to catch your breath as he chases his own orgasm. All you can do is cling to him and sob out your pleas as you continue to soak the sheets.

“Look how deep I am, baby,” he says, eyeing the bulge his cock makes in your abdomen. “Gotta make sure I cum deep inside you if I wanna get you knocked up tonight.”

Joel’s not usually this talkative during sex. He’s the kind of guy to swear through gritted teeth and grunt with every thrust, but now, he’s talking dirty to you like he’s an expert. Like he’s practiced. Maybe in his head, he has.

It’s the look on your face, the way you can’t seem to shake yourself out of your last orgasm while teetering on the edge of the next, the way you’re losing yourself to your own pleasure that spurs him on.

“You feel so good, baby. I’m getting’ real close.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah?” His hand snakes its way downward so that his thumb can circle your clit in time with his thrusts.

His hips falter and he cums deep inside you with a low groan. You’re so caught up in your own that you struggle to focus on him. You want to see him, but your eyes screw shut when the intense pleasure courses through you. You gush around him, leaving him equally as messy as he leaves you.

Basking in the post-orgasm bliss, you slowly regain your senses.

“I could really be pregnant,” you say

“I doubt it,” he says.

“Why’s that?”

“Just my intuition.” He shrugs and a small smile graces his lips before he adds, “but we can always try again.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction

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strang3lov3 · 1 year

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Spencer's

Summary: You and Joel visit Spencer's. You snag some toys, then steal some batteries from Joel for those toys. He's not pleased.

Warnings: DRAMATIC!Joel, implied age gap, Joel is jealous of certain inanimate objects, Joel is winnie-the-poohing it, overstimulation, masturbation (m/f), general filth, unprotected piv, creampie, brat-taming (if you squint), spanking, use of sex toys, joel is pro-participation trophy, joel reads Savage Love, soft!dom joel, dom!joel, mall rats!joel

A/N: thank you thank you thank you to @papipascalispunk for editing and proofreading this story. I am so thankful for her help and lucky to know her 🩷

W/C: 4.3k

It’s patrol again. You’re in that old mall with Joel. And he’s quiet today, like he has been the past couple weeks. No shitty comments or dumb jokes. Hardly any of his usual grumbling, just quiet and stoic. He’s wearing a green flannel, sleeves rolled up. Beard recently trimmed, his hair a little less unkempt than usual. And he seems nervous, antsy, bouncing his foot as you both sit on a bench, taking a short break.

You could help him relax.

“Victoria’s Secret is back that way. Kinda wanna try on some more lingerie,” you suggest, hoping he’ll take the bait you’re offering.

“Pass,” Joel says, “You know I don’t like that place.”

“You could watch. We had fun last time we did that, didn’t we?” you reach for Joel’s arm and try to pull him from his seat and toward that dreaded underwear store. He doesn’t budge.

“Joel?” you ask, confused by his reluctance.

“I don’t know about all that, hon. Thinkin’ we should go to that bookstore, find some more books for the library back home,” Joel points toward a nearby Barnes & Noble, “Yeah?”

You shrug, “Sure, after.”

“After what?”

“This,” you lean toward Joel and grip onto the collar of his flannel, pushing it back to expose more of his neck. Pressing your lips to his throat, nipping and kissing the skin as your hand trails down his torso, fumbling with his belt.

You’re not wasting time.

“Oh,” Joel breathes shakily, “That.”

“Yeah,” you say with a satisfied smirk, “That.”

You nudge his head to the side with your nose and try to push him back into the bench, pushing his flannel further over his clavicle to expose more of his neck, but he stays firm. He grabs the hand fumbling with his belt and pulls it away. “I don’t think so,” he says. You pull away immediately and Joel looks at you with sympathy, concern.

“What’s wrong? What’d I do?” you ask, feeling insecure, self-conscious all of the sudden.

“You didn’t do anything,” Joel says.

It’s been a while since you’ve been with him, he knows you’re probably antsy for more because he is too. But he’s feeling apprehensive. Each time you’ve fucked, it’s been quick and dirty. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. He’s not sure what exactly your history with other men is, but Joel fancies himself a gentleman and believes in the campsite rule. Believes that you deserve better than what he’s been giving you. Starting with, say, a bed. You’re exhausting, troublesome, and you’re like a tick the way you get under Joel’s skin, but you still deserve decency.

Decency won’t stop him from fucking the living daylights out of you, though. He’ll just be a little more gentlemanly about it all, moving forward.

Joel clears his throat, “You’re young, you know. And I–”.

“And you what?” your tone is snarky.

“Jesus Christ, motormouth,” Joel snaps, “Would you let me finish speaking before you start arguin’?”

You shrug but remain silent, motioning for him to continue.

“I just think we should do things by the book from now on. Dinner, talking, that kinda stuff. You know, I just want things to be sort of…nice for you. I dunno the word exactly, just...nice, I guess.�� You watch Joel blush as he struggles to spell it out.

“Do you mean romantic? Like a date?" Excitedly, you gasp, "Are you taking me to the Rainforest Cafe?”

Joel stares at you blankly before speaking. Rainforest Cafe is a no-go, you're guessing. “No. Not romantic. And not like a date. A date is for two people that actually like each other.”

And just like that, the attitude is back. He just exudes charisma.

You pout, “You don’t like me?”

“No, I don’t. I barely tolerate you. But, you know. I still wanna - want you - I want us to…I don’t know,” Joel groans. It’s entertaining, watching him try to spit it out.

Awh. He barely tolerates you.

You smile, “I barely tolerate you, too.” But Joel won’t look at you, keeps his eyes focused ahead. Still nervous, he fidgets with his hands and continues bouncing his leg.

“Was thinkin’ tomorrow,” Joel mutters quietly, “Y’could come over. Could be…nice. Maybe. Probably not, ‘cause you’ll be there.”

“Yeah. Sounds nice. Maybe. Probably not. ‘Cause you’ll be there too,” you mock his low tone.

Joel glares at you, “Seven. My place. Be on time.”

—

After your break, you explore the mall further. There’s a store called Spencer’s, which looks neat. Joel agrees, unaware of exactly the kind of store Spencer’s is, so you both go inside. There’s funny t-shirts, cool knick-knacks and tchotchkes. Joel is looking at various lava lamps as you make your way toward the back, and he follows you.

Holy shit.

There’s all sorts of things on this back wall. Handcuffs, lingerie, lubricants, vibrators, dildos, costumes.

“Wow,” you say, “Looks like your kind of party, Joel.”

Joel rolls his eyes, annoyed, “Shut up.”

“This looks nice. Not romantic at all,” as you poke Joel with a vibrator.

He flinches, “Get that shit offa’ me, freakazoid.”

“We could use it tomorrow. On our not-date,” you smirk.

“Don’t need it,” he huffs.

“Wow. You seem confident about that,” you say. Joel shrugs, a look on his face you can’t quite read. “Whatever. Maybe I’ll take it for myself. You know, for alone time.”

His face falls immediately. Joel, prudish as he may seem, truly does not have an issue with masturbation. It’s natural, it’s human. But something about you doing it makes it a little… jealousy-inducing. The thought of you, one of those toys between your thighs, you making all sorts of pretty noises that he can’t hear; it’s just too much for him. “Yeah, knock yourself out,” he says sarcastically, “You’ll have a lot of fun with a battery-less vibrator.”

“You still have some, don’t you?”

Joel scoffs, “I do. But they’re mine, and I sure as shit ain’t sharin’ with you, ‘specially not for those things.”

“Sharing is caring, you know.”

Joel rolls his eyes, “S’a bold assumption you’re making there. That I care about you.”

Rude.

You poke him with the vibrator again. “Quit that,” he grumbles, “Now stay here a minute. Gonna take a leak, I’ll be right back.” He drops his bag and heads for a private area nearby. You stare at his bag on the floor and wonder if he’s fucking with you, because he never goes anywhere without his bag. Better to be safe than sorry is what he always says. And you know he keeps batteries in that bag.

Ah, fuck it. He won’t know.

There’s a sign that says “buy two toys, get one free”, and you’re not one to pass up a good deal, even if that deal means nothing now being twenty-or-so years into a fungus apocalypse. So you stuff three toys in your bag, along with one of the lava lamps Joel was checking out. You rifle through Joel’s belongings and pull out a handful of batteries, then stuff those into your bag too. Six should do it, hopefully. After twenty years, a lot of them are duds. You’ll try the toys out tonight, then sneakily put the batteries back in Joel’s pack tomorrow night on your not-date. And Joel will be none the wiser.

—-

Joel is livid.

Someone called off patrol today, so he was volunteered by Tommy to fill in. He’d still be back in time for your not-date, and although the change in his plans was not ideal, it’s not what set him off today. No, that was all you.

His radio had died toward the end of his shift. No big deal, he thought. He reached into his pack and fumbled through his belongings to find his spare batteries. Only, they weren’t in his bag. So he searched a little longer before he realized he actually knew exactly where those precious batteries would be. No doubt inside you at the moment.

Was he in danger without a working radio? Could’ve been, but no, not really. Will he never find batteries again? Yes, he will. Joel’s crafty and good at scouting supplies like that, even when supplies are sparse. What did pissed him off, however, is the fact he knows you consciously went behind his back to steal his batteries for those toys. You’ve probably spent all last night and all day today fucking yourself silly, couldn’t have waited just one more day. He feels a little insulted, topping off the jealousy already simmering.

Joel comes back to Jackson around five in the evening. He should be showering, cooking, setting the table, and tidying his house. But instead, he makes a beeline for your place.

He doesn’t bother knocking on your door. He knows you keep it unlocked, something he constantly advises you against. He closes your door, and hears your long and pretty moans coming from upstairs. He’s not sure what’s coming over him or why he cares so much. He prides himself on being level-headed, rational. But all of that’s out the door when he hears your moans, moans that he believes should have been all for him and him alone.

At least he gets to catch you in the act.

Joel tiptoes up your steps, fighting his urge to stomp angrily. Your bedroom door is wide open, lights dim. There’s a lava lamp bubbling next to you on your nightstand. You’re laid out on the bed, legs spread, one toy between your thighs and two others lay next to you. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you moan Joel’s name. It’s a nice touch. Maybe he’ll go easy on you.

Probably not.

He stands in your doorway and clears his throat, “Enjoyin’ yourself?”

“Joel!” you yelp and your eyes fly open. Joel moves to stand next to your bed, his gaze dark and intense, his mouth forming an unamused frown.

“You think you’re slick, don’t you?”

Your words are caught in your throat. Ohh, you are so busted.

“How many’d you steal from me?”

The vibrating dildo you were fucking yourself with is still humming loudly, and in the otherwise silence of your room, it’s deafening. You fumble to try to turn it off.

“Oh, no. Don’t let me interrupt your date. That’d be awful rude of me.”

Too shocked to make any moves, you freeze, dildo still humming away inside you. And as anxious as you feel, you’re equally excited. You’ve picked up on Joel’s jealous side, and you’d be lying if you said some part of you wasn’t trying to rile him up.

“I just, mmmm,” you moan, “Just missed you a lot. Couldn’t wait for tonight.”

“S’that right?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“You missed me so much you decided to deliberately go through my bag and steal my batteries?”, he spits, sarcasm lacing his words, “Yeah hon, sure looks like you missed me, fuckin’ yourself on that plastic cock.”

“Silicone,” you correct, though now definitely isn’t the time to bother with semantics. Joel notices you rocking your hips ever so slightly, chasing your orgasm as subtly as you can. You’re right, right fucking there. He can see it on you, you’ve got that look about you. Your breathing is shaky and your body trembles.

“You’ve got some fuckin’ nerve,” Joel hovers over you, one hand next to you on the bed and his other reaching for your toy.

“Please,” you beg.

“Think you’ve made yourself come enough, impatient goddamn brat,” he mumbles as he pulls the toy away from your center, tossing it aside. You groan and whine in frustration. Just three more seconds, you would have been there.

Fucking Joel.

“I’m at a loss on what to do here, sweetheart,” Joel says as he kicks off his shoes before sitting on your bed, his back against the headboard, “Can’t fuckin’ take those batteries back on account of they’ve all been inside ya.”

“Joel, I did not fuck myself with your batteries. That’s…not how that works.”

“Shut up, wiseass.”

“Joel, I was gonna give them back, I swear. I just wanted–”.

Joel cuts you off, not caring to hear the rest of your explanation, “All half used and out of juice? How generous. Lucky me,” he muses, annoyed.

“Joel–”.

“Don’t think you fuckin’ get it,” he snaps, “Y’got no fuckin’ self control. You’re lyin’ to me, stealin’ from me, sneakin’ around. And it breaks my heart, ‘cause I was startin’ to look forward to our date.”

“Date?” you ask in confusion. Joel’s cheeks turn rosy as he refuses to acknowledge his slip up. The not-date turned actual-date. “Joel.”

“Need to get through to you somehow,” he ignores you, still too upset, “Got a couple different ideas in mind. I guess we’ll have to see which one sticks.”

He pulls you up and over his lap, your head laying on the crumpled sheets. He presses a hand firmly on your neck, holding you in place as he gently runs his other hand over the swell of your ass.

You know what’s coming. And it’s been a long time coming, at that. You've noticed the way Joel looks at you, his angry stare and how he chews on his inner cheek. How his hands ball into fists, like he’s fighting the urge to strangle you. Wrap his hands around your neck and just fucking squeeze.

Crack.

The sting of his hand striking your ass is as delicious as it is painful. He smacks you again, harder. And it’s just as incredible. That sharp bite, how it sends arousal gushing from your core. You can’t help the moan that slips from your mouth.

Joel pulls you off his lap abruptly, onto your knees between his thighs, and faces you towards him. He wears a puzzled expression, like somehow he wasn’t aware that spanking is more of a reward than it is a punishment, at least to you. “Ya weren’t s’posed to enjoy that so much.”

“Joel–”.

“Yeah, we’re not doing that. Fuckin’ weirdo,” he interrupts, shaking his head a little. Joel thinks for a moment, staring at you as he contemplates his next move. His eyes flicker to yours, and you can practically watch the gears in his head begin to turn. “I think,” he lifts his hips to pull both his jeans and boxers down his thighs, and his cock springs free. It’s the first time you’ve really gotten to see it. Long and thick, prominent vein, blushed tip a bit wider than his shaft. Curly dark hair surrounding the base. It’s artwork. “Think we’ll try Plan B,” he says firmly as he reaches forward, wrapping one hand around himself to stroke his member, thumb swiping across the tip.

It should be your hand. And he’s well aware of this, but he’s giving you a taste of your own medicine before moving on to the main event. You extend your arm in front of you, but Joel doesn’t allow it. “Ah ah,” he tuts, slapping your hand away, “You can go play with one of your rubber cocks. Since you love ‘em so goddamn much.” His words are biting, acrimonious.

He’s throwing you off. Joel, who says he couldn’t give a “fiddler’s flying fuck” about you, is upset that your pleasure wasn’t brought on by his hands today. Joel, who barely tolerates you. “Joel, please, I want you. I’m sorry,” you cry, “I need you, Joel, been missing you so much. Please, Joel. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Layin’ it on pretty fuckin’ thick, sweetheart.”

You cry in frustration, “Joel, I’m sor-”.

“Cut that shit out. You ain’t sorry. You’re sorry you got caught, ‘cause now you’re in trouble,” Joel keeps stroking himself, taunting you, “This is on you.”

Joel thinks back to when he was a teenager, when his father caught him with a lit cigarette hanging from his lips, how his father’s punishment was to make him smoke the whole pack, and how before he was even halfway through the pack the nicotine had made him sick to his stomach.

Same idea.

Still stroking himself, Joel grabs one of the vibrators sitting next to you. It’s a wand type, light pink in color. He holds down a button and it buzzes to life, “C’mere. Between my legs. Do it now,” his voice is stern, authoritarian. You assume the position. Joel parts your legs wider, pulling your knees back before guiding your hands to hold the backs of your knees, keeping you open nice and wide for him. “You stay like this. Don’t move.” His flannel feels soft and warm on your skin. You feel his hot breath on your neck, his chest rising and falling steadily against your back. Wordlessly, he brings the vibrator to your core. He drags it over your lips, through your folds, coating it with your arousal.

Joel circles your clit with the toy now, and your hips to follow the sensation. The way you’re sighing, moaning, grinding with his movements, Joel can tell you haven’t picked up what he’s putting down yet.

Poor thing. Fucked herself stupid on all these plastic cocks.

“Yeah, Joel, like that. Fuck, feels good,” you breathe, “Right there. S’good.”

Joel’s silence is disconcerting. There’s no dirty talk, no snide remarks like usual. But you’re too worked up to worry about why. Within seconds, you’re coming. Sweet, breathy moans and whines falling from your lips as you ride out your high.

Joel presses the button on the vibrator, taking it up a notch. The buzz is louder, the feeling intense, nearing on too much. Finally, he speaks, “I really do hope your thievery was worth it, sweetheart,” he whispers in a low, raspy voice behind the shell of your ear, “Now tell me, exactly how many batteries am I short?”

It’s getting uncomfortable now. You wrap your fingers around Joel’s wrist and try to pull him away from your core but he doesn't budge, “What? Joel, let up.”

“What’d I say? Hands on your thighs. Y’don’t move,” he barks. You do as you’re told, and he hums in satisfaction, “Now answer my question.”

“I don’t know, six? I–oh, fuck. I was gonna give them back. Please, Joel, I can’t– ”

Joel scoffs, “Six? You stole six batteries. What, were you stashing them for winter? Squirrelier than I thought.”

“No, just…you know how sometimes, they-they-they, and they’re old, so–Joel, m’serious–”, you whine, almost pleading for mercy from the overstimulation he’s causing.

Joel pulls the vibrating wand from your core, and you exhale in relief, resting your head back on his shoulder. He’s showing you mercy. Or so it seems.

But the sound of the vibrator clicking on is back in an instant. Slightly different pitch this time. You pull your head off his shoulder and watch in shock as he guides it to your pussy, notching the longer end inside. He doesn’t bother going slow as he parts your insides with the toy. You worked yourself up plenty.

“Whatever. Damage is done. So here’s the deal,” Joel starts, “You’re gonna come for me six times, one for each of the six batteries you stole from me. You’re gonna keep count, too. Got one down, right?” but you’re a mess of whimpers and whines, which is the wrong answer, “Or are we doin’ more?”

“One, one, we’re at one. Oh, god. Joel, please. Please.”

“Y’don’t even know what you’re beggin’ for,” Joel mumbles. His hand crosses over both his and your bodies to hold your jaw firmly, keeping your sight set on the picture between your thighs. The toy sliding in and out of you, wet and sticky with your juices. The shorter end sliding over your clit. He’s hitting your g-spot with precision, each thrust sending you closer to the edge. Within seconds, you’re seeing stars as Joel fucks you through it.

“Count,” he demands. “T-two,” you moan, but Joel doesn’t relent. A third washes over you just as quickly as the previous one. “Three, s’too much Joel, please,” you beg.

“Quit whinin’,” he mocks, “I’m goin’ easy on ya, considering the fuckin’ stunt you pulled. You wanna make it more?”

“No, please. M’so tired.”

“Quit your whinin’. S’a punishment. Ain’t supposed to feel good,” he growls, “You’re gonna give me my batteries’ worth out of these little fuck toys. Make you come until you can’t fuckin’ walk.” You’re still holding your knees back as Joel fucks you through your third orgasm. The hand that was holding your jaw is now traveling lower, groping your breasts and teasing your nipples. Hot, salty tears of overstimulation and exhaustion roll down your cheeks. You’re shaking, trembling, and he knows it’s all too much. He wonders how many times you came before he showed up. So Joel decides to show a bit of mercy, feeling that pulling three orgasms from you is sufficient enough. For now.

He pulls the toy from your pussy and tosses it on your nightstand. He gives you a moment to breathe, to let your legs down. He rubs deep and firm circles into your sore, aching hips before lifting your limp, pliant body up to straddle his lap and face him. His eyes are soft and sincere, his quiet way of telling you he’s still here. And when this is all done, he’s gonna take care of you.

He’s still gonna fuck the living daylights out of you, though.

“You’re doin’ so good,” he tells you, “Almost there.” You nod and Joel lifts your hips, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance and pulling your aching pussy down onto his cock with a soft groan, slower than he did with the toy. He knows you’re sore.

He fucks you deep and hard, just how you like. You fall forward, resting your forehead on the thick line of muscle between his neck and shoulder. Whimpering his name into his hot skin, moaning somewhere between agony and ecstasy, “I-Joel, I'm serious. It’s t-too much, please.”

“I know it is,” he whispers as he bounces you on his cock, chasing his own release, hanging by a thread with the way you’re squeezing around him. You think Joel is feeling sympathetic maybe, as he decides to offer a compromise. “I’ll make–oh, fuck,” he gasps, “Make ya a deal.” You mumble incoherently against him, and Joel sits you upright, his cock stiff and filling deep inside you.

“Right here. Look at me,” he breathes out, gently gripping your jaw to tilt your face up. You look at him with burning, tear stained eyes. He can see the exhaustion on your face. “Breathe, sweetheart,” he coos, “How many left you owe me?”

“Three,” you answer, breathlessly.

“Mhm,” he mumbles, rolling his hips slowly, “I know you’re tired, honey. Probably pretty sore. S’that right?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“Christ, poor thing. What a mess you got yourself into. I know you didn’t mean to, hmm?” You nod in agreement quietly as he fucks you a little more gently, offering you a slight break. “Just curious, wanted to have some fun, huh? I know how ya are,” his tone is soft and kind, but still teasing.

You smile with a slight shrug.

“Tell me you’re sorry for stealing, and you only have to give me one more tonight. Just gotta apologize, real nice f’me.”

“Mmm,” is all you can muster. You’re so spent, muddled and incoherent noises seem to be the only sounds your voice can make.

“Words, c’mon now, baby. ‘I’m sorry, Joel’,” he instructs you.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you repeat, “For taking your batteries.”

“There ya go, sweetheart. That's it. Good girl,” he praises.

You sigh and collapse on his chest once more as Joel snakes a hand between your bodies. He finds your clit, his fingers warm and soft. With your face against his body, you bite down on his shoulder as his fingers begin rubbing slow, precise circles over your aching clit. No toy in the world could compare to the way his touch makes you feel.

Just one more.

He starts to fuck you deeper again, his free hand sliding up your up to grip around the base of your neck as he thrusts up into you, bouncing you on his cock. You’re liquid in his hands as he continues to steadily work your clit. That all too familiar pooling heat in your core is building back up for the last time, this one far more intense than the previous three orgasms he’s pulled from you. It crashes over you in waves, white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins. Joel feels your body tremble and shake, your fluttering walls choking his cock, pulling his own orgasm from him as he spills inside of you, filling you up with loads of his hot seed.

God, how you missed that. Missed him.

It could have been minutes, maybe hours that you stayed seated on his cock like that, just breathing with Joel. He runs his fingers up and down your spine, strokes your hair.

Finally, you sit up and extricate your body from his to remove the batteries from the toys. “Here,” you hand them to him.

Joel wears kind of an affected scowl on his face as he takes them from you. “Batteries feel light.”

“Sorry,” you say.

Joel smiles softly, his eyes glimmering as he hands them back to you, “Keep ‘em. Got a stash at home anyhow. Now get dressed.”

“Why?”

“Jesus, sweetheart. Y’got the memory of a goldfish. Cause we’re havin’ dinner, that’s why.”

You bite your lip and smile mischievously, “Because it’s a date.”

“No. S’not a date, wiseass. You’re a lady and you deserve…hey-”, Joel stops himself, noticing the bubbling lava lamp next to you, green with blue bubbles, like the one he was eyeing back in Spencer’s, “S’a cool lava lamp. I always wanted one.”

“I know,” you smile shyly, “Picked it out for you. Just wanted to make sure it worked first.”

Please please please reblog, comment, send me asks! Talk to me! Your interaction means the world!

follow @strang3stories and turn on notifs to know when i post!

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal joel miller #mall rats joel #mall rats #soft dom!joel miller #soft dom!joel #dom!joel miller x reader #dom!joel miller

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cloudcountry · 2 months

Note

Hi, I was wondering if you could do a Malleus, Jamil, Leona, Vil, and Idia x Fem Reader, where A mix-up with Valentine's Day gifts leads to Reader receiving a gift meant for the character in question, and the confusion might lead to an unexpected confession?

SUMMARY: you get a gift that was meant for the student you like, and the contents spur you to action.

COMMENTS: so usually its them getting jealous of you being courted but i decided hey its YOUR turn to be jealous. good luck!!

im a firm believer that anyone who says getting jealous when youre not dating is weird is the weird one. like obviously you'd be upset, you wanted to be with them and you're not. of course you feel bad. it's okay to feel bad??? like thats literally so normal. you dont have to be like "oh ofc im happy for them!!" like you can BE SAD. its okay.

You stare blankly at the box of chocolate in your hands, the gift crammed into your desk haphazardly. At first, you thought it was for you—that’s what anyone would assume, right? Except...the note on top of it is not addressed to you, but rather, the guy you like. It makes you wonder if this is some joke, or if one of his friends wanted you to deliver it for him. You pick at the heart sticker sealing the note shut and peel it open, taking a peak of the contents.

Your eyes wide and your heart lurches in your chest, panic and annoyance roaring like red hot flames as you read what sounds like a genuine confession of love. Someone had their eyes on him? How did you never notice?

Was it weird to get jealous? I mean, he’s not even dating you yet...you don’t even know if he feels the same way. You can’t deny it doesn’t feel good that there’s another student trying to woo him, though. You’ve been so scared up until this point, so nervous about what he might think, but the clock is ticking. You’ve got to tell him before it’s too late.

Leona cracks open a single eye when you softly knock on his door and enter, shutting the door behind you. With the look on your face, you’ve got something very serious to tell him.

“Woah there, herbivore. You look like someone died.” he yawns, flopping on his side as his tail flicks lazily behind him, “What’s got your face all twisted up?”

His eyes dart to the heart shaped box in your hand and his ears twitch. You look apprehensive—his smirk only grows when he realizes you’ve brought him an offering. How sweet.

“I like you. Romantically.” you blurt.

The second you say it you think about how many other ways you could have said that exact thing and sounded way smoother.

“Yeah, I figured as much. So you came to confess? I feel the same.” Leona yawns again, feeling a bit mischievous as he turns him back on you and yanks the covers over his head, “Well, goodnight then.”

“What...What the fuck, Leona?” you sputter, and he starts laughing harder than he’s ever laughed before.

Jamil wasn’t expecting to receive anything today. You can tell he wasn’t, because the second you walk into Scarabia his eyes go wide when he sees the chocolates and note. You don’t hand it to him though, and that makes him pause.

“Did something happen?” he asks softly, searching your face for an answer as you stare him down.

“I like you.” you blurt, and Jamil’s ears start to ring.

I like you...?

“What?” he clears his throat, shifting on his feet, “Sorry, did I hear you right?”

“Yeah. Yeah you did.” you reply immediately, as if there’s no room for doubt whatsoever.

“Oh.” he says, thinking a million thoughts at once and simultaneously nothing at all.

“Well? How do you feel about me?” you ask, and your voice shakes like you’re scared.

Jamil doesn’t know why you believe there’s room for doubt.

“I feel the same.”

And he smiles.

It's obvious that his words are awkward and reserved, but you know he doesn’t mean it in a bad way.

Vil’s pretty brow furrows in concern when he sees how upset you look, your whole body wound tight like you’ve never been so tormented in your life. You poor thing...you look so stressed out. He whisks you into his arms and into his room, where he sits you in front of his vanity and insists you tell him what’s wrong.

“These were on my desk.” you tell him, handing him the gift, “I can’t stand the thought of someone else confessing to you first. I wanted to tell you before it was too late.”

Vil reads the note in silence. He admits it's sweet, but it reads more like fanmail than an actual confession. He places it on the vanity and looks back at you, a tender look in his eyes.

“My dove...I love how bold you are.” he takes your hands in his, and goosebumps shoot up your arms at his gentle, perfect touch, “But you had nothing to worry about. I am yours.”

“I’m sorry, what!? Some extroverted rando wanted to confess their feelings to me!?” Idia shrieks, face twisting into a confused scowl, “Is that some kind of joke?”

You furrow your brow, a scowl of your own on your face as he jumps to the conclusion that it’s a joke.

“You’re really attractive Idia, you know that right? You’re handsome and smart and kind too!” you snap, feeling personally insulted by his assumption, “Don’t assume it’s a joke! I’m taking this very seriously!”

You toss the chocolates on his bed and hand him the note, crossing your arms over your chest. Idia reads through it but he doesn’t seem happy, his scowl planted firmly on his face.

“I don’t believe it.” he huffs, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, the note crushed in his fist, “Someone’s planning a prank on me.”

“Idia Shroud!” you kneel in front of him, placing your hands on his.

You don’t miss the way his hair flares pink.

“I’ll let you know that I like you very much! And I’m not joking with you one bit! I have never been more serious in my life!” you huff, squeezing his hands as you stare straight into his eyes, “So stop acting like anyone who loves you is foolish!”

Idia opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, the pink flames creeping up into the roots of his hair.

That’s enough of an answer for today.

“Child of Man...you mean another confessed their affections for me?” Malleus grumbles.

He’d looked so excited when you walked in with a gift in your arms, but the second he learned it wasn’t from you his eyes narrowed and his lips pulled into a pout. Was it raining outside now...?

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean. But...if I’m being honest, I don’t like it.” you huff, placing the gift on his desk, “I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours in return. Someone else having you doesn’t sit right with me.”

Oh, suddenly it’s sunny out. Huh. Wonder why that happened.

You slowly turn to look at Malleus.

Sure enough, his lips are pulled into a bright smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he reaches for you.

“I’d be your everything if you’d let me” he croons, tucking you into his chest.

TAGLISTS -> leona's napping buddies . . . @loser-jpg @vivigoesinsane @dove-da-birb

-> jamil's jewels . . . @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb

-> vil's spudlings . . . @cookiesandbiscuits @vivigoesinsane @dove-da-birb

-> idia's player twos . . . @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb

-> malleus's most trusted . . . @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @rosalianel @dove-da-birb

#auburn's fics <3 #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #gn reader

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honeekyuu · 14 days

Text

talk too much. [suna rintarou x reader]

ten. ruin

previous || masterlist || next

a/n. uhm....... yeah.

warnings: swearing, phone sex

✗ !!! minors do not interact !!! ✗

✗ !!! ignore timestamps !!! ✗

“No you didn’t-”

“I did!” Suna laughs on the other end, and you giggle into your cup in response, brain fuzzy and warm. “I walked into a room full of fourth years and pulled out my canvas and when I looked up— boom. Naked ass man, dick in my face-”

“Stop!” you wheeze, shaking your head. “How the hell did you not realize-”

“I was nervous! I was so nervous to be there that I didn’t even realize I was in the wrong fucking room.”

“Did you leave?!”

“No! Of course I fucking didn’t!” You hear two sharp thuds on the other end and know just by the sound that Suna’s pounding his fist on the table. “I tunnel-visioned my way into a nude modeling class as a first year — you really think I had the courage to get up and leave after that?”

You take a long sip of your mixed drink, leaning back against the arm of your couch and sighing deep after you swallow. “So? Then what happened?”

“Uh – I missed syllabus day of Art as Identity and drew a charcoal recreation of some random guy’s penis. Komori has it framed in his kitchen. It’s a talking point for guests and friends alike.”

“I can’t believe you’re this much of an introvert,” you say, shaking your head with a giddy grin. “You’re so loud with me-”

“Okay, go ahead and add salt to the wound-” he barks sarcastically, snickering when you break into laughter.

“You’re funny, Suna,” you say openly after a minute, sighing into the admission. “More people should know how funny you are.”

“Just you’s enough, I think — and maybe your friends, just so they like me,” he responds, quiet filling the space between you for a moment. You chew on your lip while you think.

“What’d you think of them?” you whisper after a moment. “My friends.”

“Your friends?” he repeats, confusion seeping into his voice. “I mean, I always thought Suga was a weird dude, but he’s overall pretty chill and funny. Especially with Alisa – they fight a lot, don’t they?”

You smile fondly. “She likes to make him angry. He’s really easy to rile up.”

“Yeah, I could tell. They seem like good friends. I feel like I got to know you better by meeting them.”

You sigh quietly, the question burned into your mind starting to feel like guilt. You shouldn’t ask, because the truth is that your friends are the perfect friends. They’re both perfect, and you don’t know where you’d be without them. And you’re not in the habit of comparing yourself to your best friend, because you know she’d kill you for doing that.

But still, the question lingers.

“And… Alisa?” you ask, feeling the terrible guilt burn in your throat like bile. “What’d you think of her?”

You can hear the wheels turning in Suna’s head, the silence on his end growing haunting as the seconds tick by.

“I think she’s beautiful,” he says, and – through the horrible, disappointed swooping in your gut – you realize that him being this honest even when he can tell what’s bothering you only makes you trust him more. He knows what you’re looking for, and he makes no move to sugarcoat his thoughts for you. Your respect for him grows. “But me acknowledging that she’s beautiful and me having feelings for you can both be true. Can’t they?”

You shut your eyes, sighing. You feel like an idiot. “Yes.”

“Just because your best friend is beautiful, that doesn’t mean you’re not.”

“I know.”

“I can think she’s beautiful and also think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen-”

“Oh, my God,” you laugh, embarrassed. “I get it, Suna. It was a stupid question.”

“Yeah, it was,” he says, and you can hear his smile. “Promise not to do it again?”

“No,” you mutter. He laughs.

“Okay. I can live with that.” You feel the conversation end there, and, despite the embarrassment, you feel glad that you asked. “I was thinking about something a minute ago actually,” he says, interrupting your thought. “You call me by my last name.”

You quirk an eyebrow, the previous conversation forgotten, and purse your lips. “Is it not your name?”

“Yeah, but…” He swallows audibly and then laughs to himself. “Your friends also call me Suna.”

You warm, seeing where this is going. “Would you rather me call you Rintarou?” His name feels foreign in your mouth, as if your tongue is just as nervous as you are, but you kind of like the taste of it.

His name feels important.

The other end of the line goes completely silent, long enough that you pull your phone away from your face to check that the call’s still connected.

“Shit,” he breathes finally. “I dunno anymore. I was gonna suggest it, but I dunno if I can handle that, Y/n.”

Your name sounds important on his tongue, too.

Your chest starts to flutter with nerves, but the alcohol wants you to push it. “What about Rin?” It tastes intimate and presumptuous, that cut of his name from three syllables to one. You want him to taste it, too.

“Christ,” he laughs. “God, Y/n. You tryna kill me? You sent your friends to wound me critically and now this?”

“I think I like that one, actually,” you breathe. “Rin.”

“Stop it,” he laughs weakly.

“Rin.” You roll it around in your mouth, sinking deeper into your couch while you consider it.

“Cut it out,” he whispers, soft and breathy.

“Rinnie.” You like the way your lips wrap around it. You like the space it takes up and the way your voice cradles it, round and warm.

“Y/n.” His voice isn’t round and warm. It’s sharp. Thick with warning. Dragging your own name down your back like the back of a blade, leaving your skin pebbled with goosebumps and the base of your spine tugging at a knot under your navel dangerously. “Cut it out.”

You shiver and press your thighs together. “Okay,” you breathe, a soft whine coating the sound. The alcohol wants you to push your luck, and it’s so wonderfully easy to listen. “Sorry, Rinnie.”

“Shit,” he groans quietly. “Don’t do this to me, Y/n. Please.”

“Do what?”

“You know exactly fucking what.”

Your stomach flips at his tone, and there’s a pulse of desire between your thighs that has you biting down hard on your bottom lip. Your head is warm and staticky and desperately likes the sound of Suna’s voice, especially when he talks to you like that.

“So?” you whisper, the courage there but incredibly small and entirely driven the liquor in your cup. “Are you hard?”

Suna’s exhale is sharp, surprised. “W-What?”

“You said over text.” Your face burns, but the idea of Suna Rintarou getting turned on by a combination of your voice and the way you say his name has you pushing out of your comfort zone. You want him too much. “That if I called you, you’d get hard. Are you?”

He breathes hard for a beat, the sound shaky. And then he whispers, the sound soft and right in your ear in the most delicious way.

“You know I am, pretty girl.”

“How long?”

“Since you said my name.”

You shiver, pressing your thighs together hard. The flip of your nerves, low in your gut, is sharpened and heightened by the buzz of vodka in your veins, and you gasp quietly, trying to bring your heart rate back to normal.

“You should do something about that,” you whisper, skin vibrating when you do. You’d never be this confident sober.

He whines in response.

Suna Rintarou whines in your ear, desperate and impossible to deny.

You feel your body become addicted to a man you’ve never met.

“‘re you sure?” he breathes. “I don’t wanna do anything that you don’t-“

“Want you to do it,” you whisper, pulse racing and legs damn near going numb from how nervous you are. “Wanna hear you touch yourself.”

“Fuck,” he says, sharp and laced with frustration. “Fuck, Y/n — how am I supposed to say no to that?”

“You’re not,” you try. “Unless you really don’t want t-“

“I do. Fuck, I do.” He sounds the most sober he’s sounded all night, direct and honest and making your heart feel like it’s going to rip out of your chest. “Will-I…” You hear him swallow. “Will you do it, too? Are you turned on?”

Your heart jumps into your throat, hope and desire mixing dangerously with the vodka. “Yes.”

“What’s that an answer to?” he laughs, weak and nervous.

“Both.”

“Fuck,” he groans. “Will you? Want you to feel good, too.”

“Really?” Your voice sounds insecure, even in your own ears. You still aren’t used to that — to him.

“Yes,” he urges. “God, yes. I want to make you feel good so badly, baby.” He swallows. “Can I talk to you? Make you feel good like that?” Your shaky exhale must speak for you, because he just gives another weak laugh. “Yeah? Is that okay?”

You’ve never been so full of want that it makes you cry, but you’re pretty damn close at this singular moment in time.

“Okay,” you say, voice wavering. Suna’s exhale on the other line is just as shaky.

“Okay,” he whispers back. “Shit-Uhm. C-Can I have a picture, baby? If that’s okay?”

You whine in protest, already embarrassed, but you can hear how nervous he is. How unused to this he is. That this is just as terrifying and embarrassing for him, that he’s putting himself out there for you.

It would be rude not to reciprocate.

You take a steeling breath and pull the phone away from your face, setting it on the coffee table and putting it on speakerphone. “I look kind of messy,” you say. You start to adjust your clothes, grimacing at the frumpy shirt and shorts you’re wearing.

“I like messy,” he says, and you laugh pathetically.

“It’s not very sexy.” You pull your hair down and ruffle it to be as attractive as possible, and then you consider your shorts for a full two seconds before throwing caution to the wind and getting rid of them. They land on the floor with an audible fwip, and Suna’s silent on the other end.

“Please tell me you didn’t just take all your clothes off,” he breathes finally. “I don’t know if I’m in a state to emotionally handle that right now.”

You giggle, face burning and heart pounding in your ears as you open your camera and angle it favorably. ”Not all my clothes.”

“Shit.”

You cross one arm over your torso and use it to push your breasts up, watching them swell in the camera. A rush of heat burns at your ears and neck, and your lip wobbles while you take the picture.

Lifting the phone close, you examine the photo. You can see all the flaws that you’ve always seen, and it makes you freeze with insecurity. Makes you want to delete it and back out.

But then you hear him, his quiet ‘baby?’ on the other end, and you remember who you’re talking to.

You hope he won’t see all the flaws you do — but there’s a piece of you that knows he will see them, but not as flaws. Because that’s who he is.

Breath held tight in your lungs, you send off the photo, and then your head starts to pound with anxiety.

Will he like it? Will he think it’s awkward? Will he realize that maybe he thinks you’re pretty, but he’s not sexually attracted to you the way he thought he would be—

“Oh, holy shit-” Suna’s voice is tight, thick with an emotion that’s so clearly lust that even you can’t deny it. ”Holy shit, Y/n. You’re so fucking-” He cuts off, taking a shuddering breath. “Fuck, I might start drooling.”

You laugh, the tension breaking a little. “You’re funny-”

“I’m not joking.” Your breath catches at the sharp snap of his voice — your heart lurches, and desire swirls violently in your gut, because Suna Rintarou’s voice is starting to do that to you. “I’m not fucking joking, Y/n — you’re the sexiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

You blink, sinking low on the couch. “What?”

“Fuck,” he groans. “Y/n, you turn me on so much. I’m so fucking-” He laughs. “God, it’s embarrassing.”

Your fingers shake as you press the phone desperately to your ear. “You’re so fucking what?” you ask meekly, nervous but craving more with every second that passes.

He laughs again, self-deprecating. “I’m so fucking hard right now. Because of you. Because of this one photo.”

Your free hand drops between your thighs before you can think too long about it. “And you haven’t done anything about it yet?”

“Oh, my God,” he groans, and you can hear the want in his voice. The strain in his tone as he tries to keep himself in line. “God, I’m not gonna last. I’m not gonna last with you, Y/n.”

The pads of your fingers press to your clothed clit when he says your name — important, full — and it makes your desire curl and snap. You moan quietly, pursing your lips together to stop the sound — just a moment too late.

“Fuuuck-” he says, reacting immediately to your voice. You hear shuffling, and then a burning, brutal exhale of relief, and you know he’s touching himself. The low whine trapped in his throat tells you as much. Tells you how badly he’s trying to keep his head on straight for you.

You don’t want him to do that. You want him as lost as you are.

So you shut your eyes and lean your head back and let the alcohol take control. Let the fuzzy static in your head grow louder, let the desire throbbing in your core grow stronger. Let the choked whine in Suna’s throat take over, pulling you that much closer to the edge.

“Rin,” you breathe, yielding control to your limbs and smothering all hesitation in favor of slipping your hand past the band of your underwear. When your fingers touch down to your core, cold fingertips to searing hot skin, you moan louder. Loud enough to be heard and not caring enough to stop it. “Fuck, Rin— Can I have a picture, too?” He groans on the other line, shaky and uneven, and you whine in response. “Please? It’s only fair…”

He doesn’t say a single word back — just gives a trembling breath when you beg — but your phone buzzes against your face a moment later.

He’s got his hand down his sweats, the outline of his cock clear and the outline of his hand wrapped around it even clearer. His face is flushed a deep, searing red, and his parted lips are swollen and pink, eyes hooded with desire as he looks up into the camera.

He’s in bed. He’s in bed, drunk and touching himself while thinking about you — the you in the photo, the you on your couch, touching yourself while you think about him, too.

“Christ,” you whisper, eyes flying across the screen while your fingers dip low and slip with terrible ease past your entrance — two fingers in, the stretch heavenly, when your eyes land on the outline of his cock. “I don’t know if I can take you, Rinnie.”

His inhale is shocked and laced with a moan, and then he’s coming undone in your ear.

“You can take it, baby. I know you can take me so well.”

“Oh, God,” you gasp, back arching off the couch and fingers curling hard against your walls. “You would make me-”

“Gonna make you take it,” he finishes in a voice so rough and broken that you know he’s stopped trying to keep control, too. “Wanna make you take it, wanna show you how good you are for me. How much you’re made for me-”

“Oh, my God, I’m-”

“Wanna make you come around me. Wanna make you fall apart on my cock, pretty girl.”

“Rin,” you squeak in warning, your gut curling hard with desire, tension so close to snapping. “Rinnie, I-”

“Want my name on your tongue when I come inside you.” His voice is pitching up, breath stuttering and syllables twisting short in his mouth. “Want my name in your mouth when I ruin you for anyone else.”

It’s only right, then, that you cry his name when your orgasm slams into you full-force, pulsing and crashing down over you without warning.

By the time you come back to yourself, your walls are twitching with aftershocks around your fingers, and your breath is loud and heavy in your ears.

Suna’s own breath is shaky in your ears, too. He whispers your name, tired and drained but still full. Still important.

You might have ruined him for anyone else, too.

#haikyuu smut #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna smut #haikyuu x reader

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aajjks · 6 months

Text

Silent Cries (m)

synopsis. Not everything could go his way and he had to learn this the hard way

Disclaimer: this is pretty dark. Read at your own risk. Please keep in mind that this is purely fictional and I don’t think that Jungkook or any Bts member would ever act like this! Read with caution.

warning: ünhëälthy thèmès, fèrtïlïty ïssǔès, prègnâncy, öbsëssïön, mèntïöns ôf âbörtïön, dïvörcè, sèxüǎl thêmês, cryïng, yn rèálly wánts á báby, dêprèssïön, dárk thêmês.

note. Let’s welcome this new JK to my Multiverse. I hope you will ask him fun questions as well, and I hope you will love him even though he’s a little ☠️ ENJOY!

Header credit: @callingholly ❤️

***NOT EDITED***

You were told that you were not capable of having children, but… jungkook accepted that part of you. you know why.. it is because he loves you, and he never wanted children.

The day is gloomy, more than usual. You stand on the bathroom floor, your gaze is blurry. unshed tears in your eyes as you stare at the pregnancy test. The stick trembles in your hands. It is all over now.

You close your eyes in order to erase the image out your eyes. The image of two straight lines on the stick. You are supposed to feel really happy.

But why Fate is never really on your side?

Does God really hate you that much? All of your life, there was nothing but suffering, your parents never cared about you.

You and your husband, Jungkook- you love him, you really do but he’s just sometimes too much to bear. you’ve been having some problems in your marriage and you almost were considering divorce but now?

now, you are carrying another innocent life inside of you. That could be ruined because of you. Because of Jeon Jungkook, who ruins everything.

The thing is that he doesn’t want a child. He freaks out over the idea of having a child.

You sob at how pathetic you are. How could you let this happen? You are pregnant, with his child. You want to die. But now, you can’t do that.

If there’s anything you and him are not compatible with? It’s your family plan. You’ve always wanted children. Unlike your husband.

And no matter what his reaction is going to be, you can’t help but grab your belly, wiping your tears that fall.

You are going to have this baby. You can’t kill it- your husband will suggest it, you know him so well.

Because you are not a killer. You can’t kill the little life inside of you. That you so desperately wanted all your life. You’ve prayed for this moment.

And even though you have made your decision,

Panic rises in your chest as you come out of the bathroom and look at Jungkook’s and yous wedding photos that litter the creamy beige walls. Thankfully, he’s not home right now so you will have some time to relax and plan how to tell him.

But- it’s almost time.

He could be home any minute now! The ticking of the clock almost warns you. Time is going.

You throw the stick in the dumpster. He’s going to find it anyways. you have no idea why you feel so nervous… You feel like you are being suffocated. And you can’t be saved.

As your hand rests on your yet to be swollen stomach, something switches in you. You have to be strong now. You need to survive for your child. You have to make him understand. This child will be a blessing for the both of you. You are going to become strong.

You are going to change everything just for the sake of your child. Because this little bean is now the reason for your existence. Maybe this could fix your marriage-because you really don’t want to leave your husband-you’re not sure about what you want..

You quickly wipe the tears as a small smile paints your lips. Your grandma raised you to be strong and you can just give into Jungkooks stupid demand. You are going to be like your grandma, who raised you, took care of you. Became your mum, that you never had.

This baby is just as jungkook as yours too, and it is going to become your strength. This baby is a gift from God, your saving grace.

Your husband was really happy on the particular day, when you had been told about your fertility issues, he made it really clear that he never wanted children, he always wanted it, to be him and you.

Your thoughts are cut off short when the doorbell rings. And the main door unlocking. talk of the devil? And He shall appear.

You inhale a deep breath.

Time to do this.

“I’m pregnant, Jungkook.” The words come out of your mouth so easily. Jungkook who is cuddling, your body, a habit he has. Looks up at you.

He is currently laid in your lap, and he starts to laugh at you.

You want to roll your eyes, but this reaction is not really that surprising from him and you just have to be calm and collected right now.

“I-I’m so sorry? But you’re pregnant?” He stops laughing, as he wipes his tears. he looks so bad you with his brown eyes and you can tell he’s waiting for you to say that you’re kidding but you’re not.

You just smile at him in pity. Your nod of confirmation was all it took for Jungkook to start panicking.

“W-What are you saying!? Y-You can’t be! You can’t be pregnant!!” He gets up from your shared bed as he runs his hand frantically through his hair. His dark damp, long locks hiding his eyes.

What the fuck is he talking about? His words hit a nerve in you. He knows damn well how you got pregnant.

“What the fuck Jungkook! How can you ask me how I’m pregnant?! It’s because of you! You did this!” You scream at the panicking man.

“because I thought you weren’t supposed to get pregnant?!” He’s right about that but it’s not like you planned on this to happen. You also thought that you couldn’t have children.

So what was the point in using protection birth control, like he always said to you. You just both have to deal with the consequences of your actions.

“B-But yn! I don’t want a child.” There we go.

“There is not supposed to be someone else between us! Not a-a baby!” Jungkook cries desperately as he grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you as if you’ll understand his point. You get up from the bed.

If it’s an argument he wants, you’ll give him that.

You cannot believe that he’s crying right now.

You glare at the doe eyed man who is looking at you as if you have grown two heads. “Jungkook! You disgust me.” You spit at him. You can’t believe him, he is such a selfish person. Jungkook flinches at the coldness of your tone as his grip loosens on your shoulders.

His voice comes out rough and broken but he keeps on apologising to you. “Y-Yn P-Please! Y-You don’t mean that r-right? You can’t! Y-You love me! Just me! And no one else! We need to get rid of this baby!” He rambles on like a madman and as your brain register his words his last sentence hits you and your eyes widen in disbelief.

Why are you even surprised? Even though you knew he was going to say that? it just hurts a little bit more hearing it coming from his own mouth without any hesitation.

“W-What?! A-Are you hearing yourself Jungkook? You-You’re suggesting that I-I kill my unborn child?” Tears well up in your eyes, and they immediately start to fall down your cheeks at Jungkook’s suggestion. You avert your gaze away from Jungkook’s crazed eyes.

“You’re a sick bastard! Fucking monster!” You sob at him. Your curses don’t seem to affect him, it is like he has gone numb, the irony. He stands still.

“No. one. can. come. between. us.” Jungkook’s silent whispers could be heard by you. You massaged your temples, now there was only one option left.

“If this baby dies then I’ll die with it. And if you don’t want this baby..” you take in a breath. He always gets your blood pressure so high.

“If you don’t want this baby that means you don’t want me either, so I will just divorce you because I have been thinking about it. you are becoming too much for me to deal with it’s time you fucking grow Up!”

“I will have this baby because this is the only ray of hope in my life. Now, it’s your choice, Jungkook.” Your words come out of your mouth carefully. You wait for his response.

But all you get is silence.

When he doesn’t respond you decid to leave the room, but a loud sob holds you back. Did you mention that your husband is actually pathetic and good for nothing?

Yes, he’s rich but, so what? Yes, he handsome in the first man you loved but now you’re beginning to regret it.

His rough screams for you please you, oddly his suffering pleases you to the core.

It was about time he suffered.

“B-Be careful Y/N!” Jungkook instructs you while you laid down on the bed, your hands coming to caress your 6 months pregnant belly. His eyes are fixated on your movements, never left your belly as he smiled softly.

“Y/N just one month is left until our baby is here!” Soft giggles left his mouth as he laid beside you and caresses your stomach. “You look so beautiful like this! You’re pregnant with my child. You’ll be the mother of my child. We’re going to be parents! Now, everyone would know that you’re mine! This baby will make us inseparable, y-you won’t be able to leave me now!” Another chuckle vibrates from his chest.

You’re not sure what has happened to him these past few months but you’re glad that there’s improvement.

Maybe it was your threat to divorce and that got his head straight.

But meanwhile…

He could look at you forever and not get bored. You look so ethereal with your belly swollen because of him. He made you like this. The thought of that really pleases him.

Now you couldn’t ever think of leaving him! This child has bounded you to Jungkook forever.

Your tired voice brings him back to reality, “Jungkook he’s going to be so beautiful and cute! I love the little shoes that your parents bought for him oh! And his little clothes?? And the baby bathtub? His nursery is by far my most favourite! My lovely son! I can’t wait to meet you! Mommy loves you so much!” You talked to the baby. An exciting smile gracing your features.

Yeah, it’s a little boy. And his parents are so excited for their first grandchild.

Everyone is excited about him, even his friends are excited to become uncles.

He doesn’t understand what is the breed about having a little child, because all they do is cry and fuss. And poop.

Jungkook scoffs at you cooing at the child who wasn’t even born yet. You used to coo at him like this. Jungkook was supposed to be your baby! Jealousy slowly starts to creep up again.

He needs to stay calm. But how can when his brain is just refusing to give him any peace.

A thousand scenarios run through his mind. What if you don’t love him anymore? Or what if you will give the baby more attention than Jungkook? Or worse, what if the baby will completely take his place in your heart? And worst of all, what if you completely forget about him?

“Kook! Jungkook! Your phones buzzing! It’s Eunwoo!” You shake his shoulders to get his attention, your husband has a tendency to zone out.

You couldn’t help but wonder about what he’s thinking about so focused?

“Jungkook!” your tone got louder this time. Jungkook finally blinked as he smile at you.

“O-Oh I’m so sorry Y/N! Please pass me my phone, princess?” You decide to let go the urge of asking what was he thinking so deeply about and pass him the phone.

Jungkook kisses your lips quickly as he excuses himself out. You nod, and he smiles brightly while picking up the phone. You then focus on the book.

It makes sure that he’s away from you. The large house has a lot of benefits to it, whenever he wants to complain? he can just come in one of the rooms and scream.

As soon as he leaves the room a cry left him. “Eunwoo! I-I need your help! I-I don’t want this baby! He will steal Y/N away from me! N-No that can’t happen! Help me please! Y-Y/N is already slipping away from my grip! Help me get rid of this baby! Please!” Jungkook rambles on like a maniac through the phone while on the other line, Eunwoo sighs heavily.

“calm down first.” He spoke timidly. Jungkook took a deep breath. He’s right, Jungkook needs to get a grip on himself first.

“Now listen, we talked about this.” Eunwoo’s tone changed. “W-What!?” The long haired male rolls his eyes, because he knows he’s about to get lectured But a lecture is not what he needs. Jungkook needs a solution to his problem.

“I don’t think you should do something so immoral like that…” Jungkook got confused. What is he talking about?

“W-We can’t kill him! Y-Y/N wouldn’t want that! N-No!” Jungkook clearified. Jungkook couldn’t displease you.

“What are you implying?” Eunwoo took in a deep breath.. “having a child with her is a good thing, kook. That’s what I’ve been trying to make you understand… she will be with you forever.”

Of course you will be with him forever because it’s not like he will let you divorce him but why does everyone keep saying that a child will make your relationship only stronger?

You don’t even touch him.. anymore. Maybe it’s the sexual frustration catching up to him. Maybe everyone is right.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at eunwoo’s voice. He’s not exactly wrong though. Jungkook take some moment to think about this all over again.

He did read on the Internet that sex will help induce labor-and if he will tell you that you will definitely give in to him. He cannot believe that he’s thinking about that right now, but he can’t help it.

There’s still three months left in your delivery. He can wait for three months, right? Or maybe he could just seduce you into bed tonight.

Why are you not horny. Women tend to get really hormonal with your hormonal issues. Don’t have anything to do with your sex drive.

He will fix that.

A dirty smile is now on Jungkook’s face. He holds the phone tighter as he speaks the final words to eunwoo.

“Thanks man! For always helping me! I owe you.” He smiles and sighes.

You have always given him what he wanted, jungkook he always managed to get his way with you, so maybe this time it should be you in his place.

“No problem man! It’s just like how you helped me get my girl… Seeing you like this with yn makes me remember when I was at your place... but I am glad that you have understood because she deserves to be happy..”

Jungkook chuckles loudly. “Of course! What are brothers for?” Jungkook’s eyes darken, because he knows that as much as eunwoo would like to think that he’s different from jungkook, he’s not.

He’s also right about the fact that you deserve to be happy. That’s why he’s been so hopeful supportive during your pregnancy.

“Let’s see when the baby comes..”and after saying goodbye to his friend? Jungkook walks back to your shared bedroom.

There you are, hand on your belly and your eyes scrunched together at the book you’re reading. He smiles at the sight.

No one could ever come between you and him. Not even his own blood. He belonged to you and you belonged to him. And the baby can never come between you and Jungkook.

You will have to decide the baby’s fate.

It all depends on you now.

475 notes · View notes

indecisivemuch · 6 months

Text

Foolish Ones

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: What if...there is a Prom at Camp Half-Blood? Aka, a story where the both of you are just blind fools who finally crossed the line between friends and something more (best friends-to-lovers, angst, fluff, pining, a lot of longing, lowkey jealous luke, HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE!!!)

Note: Not proofread thoroughly. Idk, thought it would be funny if Prom was a thing at Camp Half-Blood. Sorry for the long break, I've been really busy but Easter break is coming soon! Inspired by a couple lines from "Dress" by Taylor Swift.

Word count: 3.8k

Despite the abnormal life of being Demigods, campers still buzz in excitement at the announcement of a prom happening at Camp Half-Blood. Never would they think that that would be a thing. But now that they knew it was an upcoming event, talks, gossip and bets started infiltrating every corner of the camp — who do people think would ask who to prom, who would reject who? After all, they were all still teenagers.

There was one thing that neither you nor Luke knew: the bet with the leading amount of participants was on the two of you. Some theorized he would take up this opportunity to finally confess his feelings and ask you to be his prom date. Some people bet that you would be the one to do the asking. Others claimed they had zero hope because it seemed like you two had been dancing on this line of something and nothing for too long that they could not remember when it started.

Now, where to even begin on you and Luke. You were his first friend at camp. Despite the fear of opening up after the Thalia incident, it somehow felt so easy when it came to you. Then came your five years of friendship, and somewhere in between, glances turned to looks of longing. It became so evident that if you were to ask any campers about it, they’d have something to say — perhaps theories on when this all began or speculations on when the two of you would finally cross the line. Yet, somehow, the two of you were the only people who did not know of this slow-burn mutual pining.

The announcement of Camp Half-Blood’s Prom was in April, with the date of the event happening mid-May. You have rejected two prom date offers solely due to a pinch of hope that your best friend would ask you. You were hoping all his little actions that you sensed as things beyond the line of friends were true. But as time ticked, your confidence slowly diminished.

It was now the beginning of May, and that slight hope that Luke would ask you has now been reduced to the size of a grain of sand.

“I don’t think it’s gonna happen, Clarisse. Prom is two weeks away,” you sighed, hands on both sides of your face.

“Well, why don’t you ask him instead?”

“I would have…but by now, if he has not asked me, that probably means he is not interested, so I don’t see the point in doing so myself.” Gods, it was slightly exhausting for Clarisse to watch the both of you pine after each other for years only to stop right at the boundary of stepping into something. She watched as you sunk into some kind of self-spiraling moment. It was evident on your face that your brain was trying to convince you that Luke only felt platonic things. Sometimes, she believed you both must be utterly blind to not realize how the other felt.

“Well, I think—” Clarisse stopped when she saw you look behind her, mouth slightly agape with a shocked look. She smirked at this, almost letting out a breath of relief that Luke finally asked you to be his prom date. The girl turned around to face the sight that you were looking at, but she almost jumped upon seeing what was behind her. “Oh…?” The response left Clarisse’s mouth before she could think twice.

There he was, standing with a singular rose in his hand and a nervous look on his face.

“Y/N, will you be my prom date?”

The whole area was silenced. You were convinced other campers could even hear your thoughts in this deafening quiet. Gods, you could even feel their eyes glued onto you like hawks waiting on their prey.

In front of you was a boy from the Hermes cabin. Honestly, you did not even know his name. You just remember seeing him around occasionally.

No, it was not Luke.

A short laugh left Clarisse’s mouth before she could stop herself, but she quickly did upon seeing you look in her direction. But to Clarisse, it was obvious, especially when you and Luke have had this long history of mutual feelings that everybody could see — Surely, the boy knew better. You have even turned down two others —

“Yes, I’ll go to prom with you.” Murmurs among campers came as soon as you said those words. You swore you heard gasps as well, though you ignored it as you stood up to take the flower from the boy’s hand. You gave him a half smile while deliberately ignoring the confused look Clarisse was sending you.

Somewhere between realizing there were merely two weeks before prom and getting asked out by this Hermes boy, your brain has prompted you to say yes. Your mind finally convinced you no good would come along with crushing on your best friend, not when he was not interested in you, and neither were you planning to be a fool to wait around any longer. Maybe getting asked out by other guys were signs you should move on.

You could feel your heart aching and screaming at you to take your prom proposal acceptance back, but you ignored it. You have made up your mind. You knew moving on would hurt, especially after liking Luke for such a long time, but you deemed the pain as a necessary part of the process.

Little did you know, in the corner of the same area, stood a frozen figure.

Luke was standing still where he was emerging from with his breath stuck in his throat. His heart sank at the sight of what he had just witnessed. The boy's eyes fluttered as if hoping he could blink away the sight before him. However, as the situation sunk into his bones like claws digging and ripping through his skin, Luke let out a chuckle of dejection.

“Luke?” Chris called out. Though upon seeing the sheer look of sorrow on Luke’s face, Chris tried to comfort his friend, “Come on, you can—”

“I can what? It’s too late, Chris. I took too long...” The Hermes cabin counselor looked down at his and Chris’s hands. He blankly stared at the poster he had made yesterday, the bouquet of your favorite flower that he had hand-picked for you, a box filled with gifts, balloons and photos of you two.

If only you knew Luke had spent the last month preparing this prom proposal. He snuck out of camp multiple times to buy the things he needed, including hunting down the items you have always talked about. He wanted it all to be perfect because, to him, you deserve nothing less. Hence, it took him so long to ask you to prom…too long.

Luke shut his eyes and let out a deep breath. He shook his head before deciding to hand everything to Chris, who was spilling out words of encouragement. However, realizing they were useless, Chris stopped. His eyes widened when Luke muttered at him to just throw away all the stuff that was now in his hand. Before he could object or change Luke’s mind, the Hermes cabin counselor had already vanished to clear his mind.

Left alone, Chris looked down at all the stuff in his hand and sighed — Oh, you two were blind fools.

For the next two weeks, camp seemed duller from the lack of interactions between the two of you. The bet among campers was nullified since no one had bet that either of you were going with anybody else. They were so sure the two of you were meant to be.

Just like the rest of camp, you have felt off. You haven’t seen Luke since the day that boy asked you to be his prom date. It seemed almost like your best friend had been avoiding you, though you ruled it as his counselor duties filling up his schedule, especially considering prom was tonight, maybe Luke was helping with setting up the event.

You made your way back to your cabin to get ready, though you felt uneasy because of a negative feeling looming over your mood. You remember being so excited for prom when it was first announced, even anticipating it would be the night you had the most fun in your life. Yet, here you were, foot feeling heavy while heart feeling disconnected. You stopped in your step as you spotted a familiar figure, and the feeling that was weighing you down lifted slightly.

“Hey, stranger,” you could not bring yourself to say his name because you knew doing so would make your own heart tug. His name has somehow become part of your vocabulary — a word so endearing that it warmed your heart and brought a smile to your face every time you said it. You knew learning to unlove him would be a hard task, but not having him around felt was also daunting, “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy with counselor duties,” being best friends meant being able to pick up the slightest of signs that something was off, and you could hear the alarms ringing in your head. You started picking your nails but stopped when you saw him eying your hands. Curse his ability of knowing you too well.

Luke’s eyes softened at your nervous habit. He wanted to hug and comfort you over whatever unease you had, but the boy knew that would do more damage to his heart. To be so near you and knowing you didn’t like him that way. After all, you rejected two guys before agreeing to that one specific boy. Surely, that must have meant you thought the guy was cute or something.

“Oh, well…” you paused before quickly blurting out, “I’ll see later, then?” You could hear your brain scowling at your heart. You wondered if you seemed desperate.

Meanwhile, Luke felt his heart soar at the thought of you wanting to see him, yet at the same time, it ached. He felt pathetic, really. But nevertheless, he was willing to take anything you were willing to offer him, even if it was just a small glance his way.

Luke wanted to mock his own heart sometimes, calling it sadistic because how could it want you so badly that it was willing to hurt itself doing so? Yet, deep down, the boy knew if crushing his own heart into pieces would bring a smile to your face, he would do exactly so. Gods, you were going to be his demise.

“Yeah, see you later, Y/N” he answered, and you quickly waved him goodbye before entering your cabin and going towards your bed. You sat down on your bed, feeling the mattress sink while your heart also did the same slightly. Something has changed between the two of you, and you hated this awkwardness looming around.

Your eyes landed on the dress you bought a month ago. Your eyebrows scrunched whilst trying to ignore how your heart was aching.

It was in Luke’s favorite color.

~~~~~~~~

Shawn, your prom date was a nice guy. He gave you a flower and said you looked pretty, and you thanked him before complimenting him back. Then, the two of you joined others around the campfire, swaying along to the music while engaging in small talk. You tried your best to ignore the feeling that was weighing down your chest. Though, you could not help but zone out from whatever Shawn was saying.

Luke hated knowing Shawn and knowing he was not at all a bad candidate for you. However, Luke also hated knowing he could be better than Shawn and could offer you so much more if only he had done so sooner.

You looked ravishing tonight. Luke felt as if he had been bewitched at first sight. You left him stunned and speechless. Every inch of you left him mesmerized.

Oh, your dress was in his favorite color. His heart leaped at that as his eyes lingered on how the fabric hugged your body. It’s been an hour since you arrived, and Luke’s eyes have not left you at all, as if they were made just to look at you and nothing else. Even with the music and conversations around him, he could only focus on your occasional laughs and murmurs. He sighed in longing at the thought of having you in his arms as the two of you danced the night away, leaving this one night branded in his heart as one that would redefine his life. Instead, here he was, a spectator rather than the lucky one.

Luke looked away, trying to breathe out the envy that was overfilling every organ in his body. The boy knew he was to be blamed for the anguish he was drowning in, but he still despise the situation. Luke felt his chest was hollow like an empty glass frame with only his crumbled heart hanging up to be displayed, and worst of all, everybody could see it. If he could, he would abandon his Demigod life to go build a time machine.

Oh, the despair of losing something and someone he never had. Maybe your acceptance of Shawn’s prom proposal was Aphrodite telling Luke to move on. However, that was the last thing he would ever do. He’d much rather love you in the dark forever instead.

You have re-painted his notion of love and rearranged his understanding of it. Now, whenever he even remotely thought of the word, he could only seem to think of you. Luke could not fathom thinking of anybody else ever when thinking of love.

Luke turned back to where you were, hoping to steal one last look before leaving the event. He thought that maybe this was it. Perhaps it was time to forever close the door on the idea of ever letting you know of his feelings. However, his heart quickly hitched when he saw that your eyes were already on him — those eyes that could talk him into doing anything.

He wanted to turn away, he really did. But how could he be the first to break eye contact? Gods, you were his Achilles heel, and forever would you have him at your disposal, even if your heart does not belong to him.

His mind started rewiring. You hadn’t stopped looking at him, and the expression on your face was enough to spark a speck of hope in him. But like always, anything related to you would spread through his heart, mind, and body like a wildfire that he never had bothered to put out.

Before Luke could think about it, his foot took him towards you and through the bodies of people dancing. By the time he reached you, he was not sure if it was the campfire or the nerves that were heating up his cheeks.

“Can I steal Y/N for a second?” Luke spoke as Shawn spotted him. However, the second Shawn saw the look on Luke’s face, something seemed to click in his mind. He turned to you next, and that was when he knew it was time. There was no competition here, at least from Shawn’s point of view. There was a love story, and it was clear as day who you were meant to end up with. Part of him knew of this even before asking you out, yet he wanted to give it a shot anyway. But it was time for him to step away, and Shawn did it without much bitterness. He nodded and patted Luke on the back before walking away.

One of your favorite slow songs started playing, and Luke smiled when your eyes glimmered at that. Luke felt that heavy feeling in his heart lifted for the first time in two weeks. He never realized the extent of it, but just seeing you happy was enough to make him feel the same. You mirrored Luke’s smile, letting out a small sigh of relief when noticing he was no longer distant. Gods, you missed the way both his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and that’s how you knew he meant it. You were elated at the thought that maybe things are returning to normal for you two.

“May I have this dance?” Luke offered a hand to you. There was something so sincere in his voice that caught you slightly off-guard. Though, you brushed it off like always, still convinced that your best friend did not see you that way.

Before you knew it, the two of you were swaying while giggling along with the song. You almost snorted from the jokes Luke was whispering in your ears while Luke would proudly smile at himself when you playfully hit his chest from his cheeky comments and remarks. You both swayed to the music that was slowly fading away. He softly leaned his head on yours, closing his eyes with contentment as he caught the smell of your perfume, which would always linger behind, leaving traces of you every time you departed.

The song finished, but Luke’s feet continued swaying despite the silence between songs. He would dance until his legs deteriorated if that was the only way to keep you near him.

Oh, to have you but not have you. It felt as if somebody had cut Luke’s heart open and sprinkled salt on the wound. It hurt him, but nevertheless, he looked at you like you were the only one that he could imagine himself being with. His eyes lingered on every detail of you, swallowing them whole as if he intended to make you the subject of all his paintings, like an obsessed artist.

“Luke?”

Luke closed his eyes briefly as his breath quivered at the sound of his name on your lips. You said his name, and his world just stopped. It has been a good two weeks since he had heard his name from your lips, and it suddenly reminded him how much of a desperate man he was when it came to your words, your touch, your looks, and everything that had to do with you. He was utterly defenseless.

“I don’t want you like a best friend,” Luke breathed out before he could think twice. Realizing what he had just said, he decided right then that he wanted you to know everything. He wanted to let you look into his heart and understand it has always been yours.

“What?”

“I want you—I want to be yours,” he spoke, tripping over his words as his mind spun around what to say next. There were too many things he wanted to say, and he desperately wanted this moment to be perfect.

“I really, really like you, Y/N,” he spoke, hoping it would send the exact message he was trying to convey. “Like in a hopeless and irrevocable way… it’s driving me insane.” He added, his voice slightly shaking, though his heart burned when you didn’t reply.

“Please say something,” he whispered, any bit of courage he had earlier evaporated faster than he could imagine.

Your mouth hung slightly agape at his words. His words has seemingly took all your breath away.

He wanted you.

You almost laughed at how pathetic it was that both of you had been sulking the whole night over something that could have been avoided if either of you had the guts to speak up. Just an hour ago, you were so determined to get over him. Yet, here you were. This moment felt like having your dreams come true and unsure what to do with it. But deciding enough time has been wasted, you wrapped your arms around his head and pulled him down towards you.

Luke met you in the middle. His breath trembled slightly as your lips met his. He immediately put his hands on both sides of your face, caressing it ever so delicately like he was holding a national treasure in his hand. The boy felt his angst melting away, heart tangled in his throat as the moment rendered him speechless. If he could pick one singular moment to remember in his next life, this moment would be it.

You giggled as Luke unintentionally whined quietly when you pulled away. You mirrored his actions and set your hands on the sides of his face. Your thumb rubbed his face before uttering, “I like you too…” You watched as a grin grew on his face, and you mirrored it, quickly adding, “In fact, I think I like you a little too much.”

“Gods, you don’t understand how much I like you.”

“I’m sure we’ll have time later to find that out,” he grinned at your words.

The sound of someone whistling pulled you both from your little moment. Turning both your heads, you saw Chris with a big folded piece of paper, balloons, flowers, and a rather big box. Luke let out a chuckle in disbelief. He was grateful his friend did not follow his words and threw away the items.

You watched as Luke left your side for a second to grab the box and muttered something to Chris. The other boy unfolded the paper, and your eyes widened slightly at the sign.

“I was gonna ask you to be my prom date, but Shawn beat me to it,” Luke approached you with your favorite flowers and the box, opening it to let you peer in. When your eyes landed on the things in there, your heart almost melted. Some of it was your favorite treats, a small photo album of the two of you, and gifts you always mindlessly said you wanted to have. Some were hard to find, and the thought of him going out of his way to hunt down these items warmed your heart.

“It’s too late to ask you to be my prom date now…but I do have another question I want to ask,” you looked up at him, and the way he looked at you right at that moment made you realize you were screwed forever because nobody would ever measure.

“Will you be mine instead?” Luke watched as you smiled at his words and took the flower out of his hand.

“How could I ever say no to you?” you pulled him in again, and Luke, once again, sank into the kiss like an addiction he welcomed with open arms.

Oh, you were the best thing that ever happened to Luke, and he was never intending on letting you go.

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chrollogy · 3 months

Text

iv. NEW YEAR BLUES

miya atsumu x f!reader

── next: v. Misunderstandings | series masterlist

synopsis: After sending a risky text to Atsumu, you avoid your phone the next morning like a ticking time bomb until curiosity gnaws at your skin but it doesn’t take long before you cave. Thus, with a bated breath, you brace yourself for his response.

chapter content warning: college au, angst heh, shrine visit (poor depiction), implied alcohol use, tipsy reader (maybe a dumbass too), miya atsumu is an even bigger dumbass, hinata mention LMAO, mutual pining, slow burn, requited unrequited love, miscommunication (it just got even worse. rip.), not beta read.

word count: 4.1k

notes: divider: cafekitsune. woweeee one more chapter and then we’re done ehehehehe >:)

It was quarter to two.

The mellow hum of Hyōgo’s early winter morning settled into Atsumu’s bones like a pair of invisible shackles, holding him hostage between the borders of sleep, and sobriety. On other nights, it lulled him to slumber without any problem but not tonight, not when his mind was plagued with thoughts of you.

Out of all times, his brain decided to recount every single moment with you from the trip. First, it was the happy, mellow memories of the first day—stolen glances full of yearning, his crimson-tinged cheeks, and fluttering heartbeats, and then came the uncomfortable haze that drove a wedge between the two of you. God, Atsumu didn’t even want to think about that moment on the boat.

Atsumu was fully aware that you knew his response was a complete lie but could you really blame him? What difference would it have made if he said ‘yes’? At the end of the day, what he felt for you was one-sided, nothing was going to change the fact that you only viewed him as a friend.

In fact, maybe this wall between the two of you was the cure to his yearning heart—a space to help him move on, and forget the familiarity of loving you.

As Atsumu’s caramel gaze bore into the ceiling above, tracing the moonlit glow that seeped from the window, his phone illuminated the dark room for a brief second, a tinge of blue catching his attention.

Mindlessly reaching for his device that lay on the wooden nightstand, he let out a tired sigh, honeyed eyes squinting at the sudden brightness that invaded his vision. Letting his eyes adjust, Atsumu carefully read the notification banner on the lock screen.

It was a message from you. His heart violently stuttered. Thank goodness for the tight grip he had or else his face would’ve been aching from his phone falling on it.

As if on instinct, Atsumu sat up, clearly sobered up from the fact that you texted him at almost 2 AM. Were you perhaps also having trouble sleeping? Atsumu wondered if your mind was also filled with thoughts the past few days—thoughts of him. He could only fantasise.

The blonde positioned himself against his headboard before clicking onto your message with a shaky digit, and a thundering heartbeat.

It was an absurdly long paragraph.

‘hey. i know you’re asleep right now, and you’ll probably see this in the morning but whatever :) . .’

Atsumu swallowed thickly. For some reason, he felt oddly nervous about this message but at the same time, anticipated the context behind it. Maybe you were trying to salvage whatever was left of the friendship? Or maybe you just wanted to cuss him out with a long, detailed message.

Nonetheless, Atsumu kept reading,

‘. . . i’m not going to beat around the bush or anything so i’ll get straight to the point. i like you. i’ve had feelings for you since highschool and i know it’s cowardly of me to confess over text but i don’t mind being called one.

god, i cannot even remember the feeling of my heart acting normal around you. my heart is so painfully familiar to yearning for you that it hurts. whenever i see you, i just can’t seem to act right. i hate how my heart stutters, how my cheeks heat, how my body suddenly doesn’t know how to act normally. it’s bittersweet because i feel guilty for falling in love with a close friend but also i’m not ashamed of it because you’re so amazing, and caring.

i cherish you a lot, tsumu, i really do and i know you do too but i don’t think it's in the way i want you to. i’m not pressuring you for an answer or anything because i already know you don’t like me back but that’s okay. i don’t know what will happen after this but just know that i really admire our friendship.

like i said before, you don’t have to reply to this. i just really needed to get all the pent up feelings out of my chest so i can finally move on :) just give me some time to be myself again.’

One word. Speechless. Miya Atsumu was speechless.

There were so many goddamn emotions that ran through every single fibre of his body to the point where his brain couldn’t process it all. Atsumu didn’t know whether to be ecstatic with the fact that—holy shit—you reciprocated his feeling, or to be frustrated with the fact that you thought it was one-sided.

His heart hammered against his chest, the pounding of it reaching his very ears. He was so fucking nervous that he breathed through his parted lips, honeyed eyes re-reading every single word you typed. The winter chill that filled his room went awfully warm, mirroring the crimson tinge that painted his cheeks.

So he was the one you were talking about back then; that drunken confession where you told him you had feelings for a certain someone.

Atsumu didn’t know what to do—didn’t know what to respond.

In all honesty, you put him in a very tough spot. How was he supposed to respond after confessing your feelings but also stating that you did not, in fact, sought an answer. Not to mention how you practically put words in his mouth.

Who were you to decide if Atsumu reciprocated your feelings or not?

The blonde took a deep, shaky breath, palms sweating as he gripped the device. Atsumu knew he needed to respond with a calculated mind—as tempting as it was, he wasn’t going to let his heart lead this time.

Not when his mind painfully reminded him of the conversation you two had,

“I don’t even think I’m ready for a relationship.” “So . . yer jus’ gonna confess for the sake of movin’ on? Even if he likes ya back?”

He vividly remembered the way you solemnly nodded to his question, a sad, subtle smile lingering on your lips as if to reassure yourself that you’ll be okay.

Atsumu closed his eyes, letting the sounds of crickets chirping outside consume him. The gears in his head turned, and turned, working overtime to come up with a response. He had to be sensible, whatever he replied was surely going to change the course of your bond, forever.

Though, there was only one thing he knew—to respect your decision.

The morning came rather quickly, early rays peeked through your window, mellow hues of yellow, and orange painted the ivory walls of your room to cast a warm, inviting glow—a reminder of the impending day ahead.

As you reached for your device to check the time, you were greeted with a black, unlit screen, your sleepy reflection staring back. Oh, that’s right. You had turned it off right after sending that risky text message to Atsumu, wanting nothing to do with it.

Vivid memories of last night came flooding in, filling every corner of your mind. All the words you typed down, the feelings that came with it, the hammering of your heart—it came back to you, and now, you were twice as nervous. You wondered if Atsumu had already read your message, even more curious about his response—if he did send one back.

Just thinking about it made your head dizzy. There was a ray of hope tucked neatly at the bottom of your heart, it wasn’t big but you held onto it like it was the most precious thing.

You let out a sigh, and tossed the device on your bed before getting ready to brave the winter day ahead. There were four more days before the new year rolled around—how you were going to spend the last two days heavily depended on Atsumu’s response.

It was inevitable. Every now, and then, your eyes mindlessly wandered to the device that lifelessly lay atop your sheets, its blackened screen inviting you to turn it on. You turned your room upside down for anything to distract you from the silent beckoning of your device—from re-reading your favourite manga to blankly staring at the ceiling above.

There was even an urge to read a syllabus from one of your new classes this coming semester.

Four hours. You lasted four dreadful hours before curiosity settled into your skin like a painful bite—no matter how much you ignored it, it seemed to worsen.

And with a hammering heartbeat, and sweaty palms, you turned it on. Patiently waiting, you watched as it displayed the brand logo, and then a few seconds before it loaded your lock screen. A heartbeat passed as the device showed several notifications from last night, and this morning. Disregarding them, you scrolled straight down until Atsumu’s message notification came into view.

You sucked in a breath.

The thread of messages between you two quickly popped up as you clicked on the notification. Bracing yourself, your eyes wander down to the start of his response—god, it was equally as long.

It was sent at 2 AM. It made you even more nervous after realising that Atsumu was indeed still awake when you had sent the message.

‘hey :) first of all, i’m very thankful that you had the courage to bring this up to me so please don’t call yourself a coward, i know how hard it is to try and confess to someone. i find it admirable, really. i think it’s brave of you to decide something like this.

secondly, i am over the moon after finding out you have feelings for me. it feels such an honour to be loved by a close friend so thank you again for letting me know. like you said, i, too, cherish our friendship. i don’t know what will become of our bond after this but just know that i am very glad to be friends with you.

thirdly, as you’ve mentioned in your message, i don’t feel the same way. .’

You stopped reading to stare at the ceiling above, a foolish smile plastered upon your lips—it conveyed anything but happiness.

Oh.

So, you were right. Atsumu didn’t feel the same way.

That little bundle of hope deep inside your heart disappeared, dissolving into nothing but what seemed like distant memories—memories of your saccharine moments together.

God, you already had a feeling he didn’t like you back but why did it feel like a hard slap on the face? As if reeling you back into dull reality after a haze of fantasy. This was what you wanted, right? To confess with rejection in mind so you could finally move on. But now that the answer lay right before you on a silver platter, why didn’t you want to move on?

You mustered every single bit of your strength to read the rest of his message, vision becoming blurry as tears slowly formed.

‘. . . you’re such a great friend. don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful both inside and out but my feelings for you are just platonic. i’m really sorry that i don’t reciprocate your feelings. i don’t know how much this will affect you but just know that if you want me to stay away, i will. it’s the least i can do to help you move on.

you’re an amazing person, and there are a lot of other guys out there who deserve you so much but i am not one of them. again, thanks for letting me know.’

You didn’t even realise hot tears started rolling down your cheeks until it hit the screen with a soft sound, one by one, droplets of tears scattered the surface of your device as if to wash away all of Atsumu’s words

A weird feeling blossomed in your chest, extending its sharp roots down to your stomach where it painfully planted itself. The grip on your phone tightened, other hand clutching—clawing—at your heavy heart, wanting to take it out from the confines of your ribcage and mend it with your own shaky hands.

Everything felt completely still, birds that hummed their usual morning song were no more, mellow sounds of the city became distant as you let yourself wallow in complete sadness.

It was odd, you felt nothing, and everything at the same time—the ugly feeling in your chest, the sting behind your eyes, the impending headache from your stuffy nose. Atsumu’s words repeated inside your mind, plagued it like an invasive plant which invited more pain to your strained heart.

‘I don’t feel the same way. My feelings for you are just platonic.’

It wasn’t just cupid’s stupid arrow agonisingly digging into the core of your heart, no, it also felt like he had wrung your heart dry with his bare hands, and he was laughing about it.

You felt like a fucking fool. Especially for hoping that somewhere down the line, Atsumu felt the same way.

The last two remaining days of the year were a complete haze, navigating through the last moments with a clouded mind, and an unmendable heart while putting on a brave face. And as the clock struck midnight on the 31st, you put on the happiest smile you could muster in front of your parents, and welcomed the new year with uncertainty. You tried not to think about Atsumu’s words but they were seared into your mind, a mocking reminder of your unreciprocated feelings.

It wasn’t long before the first morning of the new year greeted you with clear skies, and warm rays, paired with an early call from Suna. You already knew the reason for his call—of course, one cannot celebrate the new year without hatsumōde.

“It’s a surprise you picked up my call, you haven’t been answering my texts. Anyway, the twins, and I are visiting the shrine, coming?”

“How about Kita?” You asked. “He’s going with his grandmother tomorrow.”

With a sigh, you hesitantly agreed. It's only been two days since the confession, and you could already feel the awkwardness, and pain seeping into your bones. You knew you weren’t even ready to face Atsumu yet but you’ve never turned down a shrine visit from your friends, especially on new years.

Before you knew it, the crisp winter air engulfed your body. Clad in thick layers of clothes, you walked the quiet footpath to the local shrine, heart hammering against your chest with every step taken closer to your friends—to Atsumu.

His flaxen locks were easy to spot, standing out amongst the crowd of people with raven strands. Your heart violently stuttered but you kept your eyes on Suna, putting on a bright smile to greet them. They stood just before the grand torii gate which led straight to the shrine itself.

“Glad ya could make it.” Osamu greeted you with a hug, followed by Suna.

Throughout the whole exchange with the two men, you could feel Atsumu’s burning gaze on the side of your face, and god, was it an extreme sport to ignore it. The two didn’t notice the way you, and Atsumu awkwardly greeted one another—a tight-lipped smile, and a brief eye contact. You felt small, and naked under his honeyed gaze but it wasn’t anything intimate, you guessed this was the consequences of baring the contents of your heart two nights ago.

Tugging at the neckline of your clothes, you began to grow uncomfortable at the awkwardness that made itself known.

You weren’t going to lie, Atsumu looked devastatingly handsome as ever, and it pained your heart even more. Though, he had this familiar expression painted on his face—the one he always wore whenever he was upset about something. It was subtle but you noticed the way his bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly, the light crease between his thick brows.

It was hard not to wonder what Atsumu was upset about.

After showing respect by bowing at the torii gate, the four of you fell into a step. Since it was the first day of the new year, the shrine was packed with families, friends, couples and people alike; some were at the chōzuya—water purification pavilion—to purify their body & mind while others were already lined up to pay respects at the main shrine building.

Keeping to the sides of the main path, You, Suna, and Osamu fell into a mellow conversation—talking about the new year ahead, and the upcoming semester. Surprisingly, Atsumu didn’t join in the conversation, hands tucked deep inside the pockets of his jacket, he stared hard at the concrete beneath.

It shouldn’t bother him but it did.

You were the one who got rejected so why was he more upset about the situation? Why were you able to easily slip into a cheerful conversation with Osamu, and Suna while acting like nothing happened two nights ago? Atsumu half expected you to not even turn up today, he had to practically stop himself from overreacting after the brunette stated you’d come.

Well, it was good that you were already moving on but whatever. Atsumu decided shoving away the weird feeling in his chest was the best option.

After doing the ceremonial purification rite at the chōzuya, the four of you headed at the back of the line for the main shrine. It didn’t take too long until it was your turn, Suna, and Osamu went ahead first which left you, and Atsumu to pair up.

Watching as your two friends prayed at the shrine, you dug your nails into the plush of your palms, awkwardness eating away at you. It felt like everyone’s eyes were burning holes on both your’s, and Atsumu’s backs—as if they all knew what happened between the two of you a couple of nights back; it also didn’t help how you could practically feel Atsumu’s not-so-subtle stares from the side.

Sighing, you spoke to him for the first time since that moment at the boat, “If you’re uncomfortable with me, I’m more than happy to do it alone.”

You didn’t dare look at him, even when he fully turned to face you. It was dangerous, one look into his gaze, and you’d be a sobbing mess.

“It’s not that. It’s just . .”

Atsumu’s sentence trailed off as he noticed you walking up to the shrine. He closed his lips and silently followed, heart weighing heavy with every unspoken word that plagued his mind.

The two of you did the customs as usual: ringing the bell, tossing a 5 yen coin into the wooden saisen-bako, bowing twice, and clapping twice before praying. You, and Atsumu stayed still for a moment, eyes closed, and palms glued together to wish for good luck in the new year ahead. Ending the prayer with another bow, the two of you joined Osamu, and Suna.

“I saw ‘em distributin’ amazake. Wanna go grab some?” The younger twin pointed a thumb over his shoulder. His brother, and Suna agreed rather quickly, their throats bobbing at the mention of the sweet treat.

Feigning a yawn, you spoke up, “I think I’ll head home now. I didn’t really get much sleep last night.” This earned a unison of disgruntled sounds from Suna, and Osamu whereas Atsumu wordlessly looked over your way.

It wasn’t like you were lying, you really didn’t get much sleep, especially after waiting for the clock to strike midnight but it wasn’t like lack of sleep bothered you, no, it was the growing feeling in your chest the longer you spent time in Atsumu’s presence.

Bidding your friends a good bye, you headed home, each step taken away from Atsumu somewhat eased the strain in your heart.

Never in a million years would your old self believe that the feeling of being away from Atsumu brought a sense of comfort, a tranquillity in your heart. Albeit, not easy—nothing ever was when you’re taming a yearning heart—there were days where the urge to bask in his presence were strong, and there were days where you felt fine without Atsumu around.

Safe to say, your year started with the much dreaded new year blues.

Ever since the new semester started, you’ve busied yourself with assignments, weekly quizzes, and whatever else that allowed you to make several excuses just to not see Atsumu—whether it be movie nights at the twins’ apartment, afternoon library sessions, or simply just coffee runs with the group, you had an excuse

Before you knew it, it had already been a little over two weeks since you’ve confessed—two weeks since you last saw Atsumu at the shrine. Two weeks, and your feelings never wavered for him, not even once, that was the stubbornness you were dealing with.

“Whatever, I’ll come by your place tonight, and drag you out if I have to.”

You groaned, “Suna.” He said your name with an equally serious tone, his dulcet voice spilling from the speakers of your phone.

“You’ve been holed up in your room since forever, and we haven’t seen you that much. I miss you, the twins miss you, and Kita misses you. It’s just a few hours to let loose.”

“Isn’t it a bit too early in the semester to party? Also, Kita’s coming?” You tried your best to ignore the fact that your heart stuttered at the mention of the twins missing you. Atsumu missed you? Before you could pick Suna’s words apart, he spoke into the line,

“It’s not a party, just a small gathering with some familiar faces. And, no, he isn’t. He needed to work on an assignment.”

“I do, as well!” “Bullshit. I’ll see you at eight.” With that, he ended the call.

And that’s how you ended up in the twins’ apartment, lazily sloshing the alcoholic contents of your plastic cup. You don’t recall the amount of drinks you’ve drank but it sure was enough to have your head spinning.

There were familiar faces here, and there—which you took time to greet every single one—and some foreign faces. You assumed most of the people here were Atsumu’s teammates from the university team with how close they were with the blonde.

In all honesty, you had absolutely no idea as to why the twins were even hosting this gathering, it was so out of the blue. Though, you did hear an orange-haired male loudly exclaim to Atsumu at how much of a genius he was for organising a gathering this early into the semester.

So, it was Atsumu’s idea all along.

“Y’know, you can just talk to him, right?”

Suna’s slurred voice unceremoniously pulled you out of your trance, shifting your attention over to him. “What do you mean?” You coughed, cheeks heating, trying to hide the fact that Suna just caught you shamelessly staring at Atsumu who conversed with the orange-haired male. He sat beside you, body far back into the couch, narrow eyes fighting the sleep that slowly overtook him.

You didn’t like how your mind instantly agreed with his sentence.

The brunette let out a humourless chuckle but didn’t elaborate further, instead, he pulled out his phone to mindlessly scroll on it. Narrowing your eyes at him for a brief moment, you shifted your gaze back to the blonde, he had a big smile on his face, a tinge of crimson across his cheeks.

God, even under the shitty lighting of their apartment, Miya Atsumu still looked handsome as ever.

You stared at him for a moment, heart hammering against your chest, limbs tingling at the sudden urge to walk up to him. Oh, this was a very dangerous game you were playing, especially with the alcohol in your system. Your mind yelled go, go, go but you knew better than to play with fire, right?

Wrong.

In a heartbeat, you were on your feet, taking slow strides over to Atsumu. The sober part of your mind screamed at you to turn around, and sit back down but the tipsy part of your mind was stubborn—you wondered if it took after your heart.

The sudden urge to talk to Atsumu was fuelled by nothing but liquid courage—all the worries in your mind were magically solved; the weight that pulled your heart down was gone, and suddenly, it didn’t seem like a bad idea to even talk to him.

Deep down, you knew you were playing a very dangerous game right now but you couldn’t care less. Not when your heart pulled you closer to him.

As you neared, Atsumu cut the conversation short with his friend, and stared at you with expectant eyes, brows sky high in surprise. He sucked in a breath as you looked up at him through your lashes, the corners of your lips subtly turned upwards. Heart pounding, he shifted his weight from one leg to another as he waited for you to speak first,

“‘Tsumu, can we talk?”

Atsumu’s knees almost gave out upon hearing his nickname roll off your tongue, an icy shiver running up his spine.

—

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fleurrreads · 7 months

Note

hi hi hi! could you write something for charles leclerc x single!mom!reader? maybe her son ( or daughter or both ) both him for the first time and they're all protective over their mom, and she has to leave them alone for sometime and when she finds them they're bonding? this probably does not make sense but oh well have something to eat and some water if you haven't in the last hour! and can i be 🎧 anon, if it isn't taken already? my pronouns are she/her and i'm 18!

an: i had a lot of fun writing this one, and i think it has a special place in my heart forever ♡ i’ll add you to the list! welcome lovely 💫

You’ve been seeing Charles for about four months now. In that time you haven’t introduced him to your son — Cody, who is seven. You were worried about him meeting your boyfriends and them leaving, which would mean they also leave him behind. So none of your boyfriends have ever met Cody.

Charles knows about Cody though, and vice versa. You’re currently dressing up to go out on a date with Charles as Cody sits on your bed, little feet dangling from the side. “You look so pretty mommy. Are you going on a date today?” The little boy rubs his eyes, visibly exhausted from the day. He has a lot of energy during the day and then he winds down and passes out by nine. He’s a lot like you in that sense.

You sit down on your bed next to him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Thank you baby. Yes I’m going on a date with Charles today. He’ll be here soon to pick me up.” You see the gears turning in his little head, and he meets your eyes. “Do you trust him?” He asks, fiddling with the hem of your dress. A nervous tick he got from you no doubt.

“Yes angel, I trust him more than anyone. Do you want to meet him and see for yourself?” The only way Cody will be less worried about you is if he met Charles and saw for himself that he was a good guy. He nods, gathering himself up and running to the living room where Scooby Doo is playing on the tv, the babysitter that you got for tonight was still on the way so you wouldn’t be able to leave before she arrived.

You hear the distinctive sound of Charles’ car coming to a stop in-front of your house when you see Cody’s head shoot up, looking through the curtain at the car that stopped in front. “Woah” You hear him softly whisper to nobody in particular. You smile , making your way towards the front door to let Charles inside.

Charles looks absolutely incredible, not too fancy and not too casual. He kisses you on the cheek, aware of the little boy now sitting on the couch looking warily at him. “Hello my love, are you nearly ready to go?” He looks at Cody, smiling at him. “Hello Cody. It’s nice to officially meet you.” he shakes the little boy’s hand.

Cody smiles softly, “It’s nice to meet you, uncle Charles.” Your heart warms at the smile on Charles’ face. You walk to the bedroom. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, I just need to finish getting ready.” You sit down at your vanity, trying to finish your makeup as fast as you can to not leave Cody with Charles too long. You know Cody isn’t always comfortable at first with people, and you don’t want him to feel like that with Charles.

In the living room Charles hunches down to Cody’s level. “What’s wrong Cody? Did I do something wrong?” He wants to make a good impression on him, because he sees you and him being together for a long time. Cody looks at him with big eyes. “Do you really like my mommy?”

Charles’ heart aches as he looks at Cody. He’s trying to protect your feelings before you can get hurt. He’s probably seen you come back from other dates either absolutely exhausted or crying.Charles realises that Cody just doesn’t want you to go through that again.

Tears are now prominent on the little boy’s waterline as Charles gives his arm a reassuring squeeze. “I love your mom. She’s an incredible woman and I’d like to spend a long time making her happy. She means a lot to me, you know. And I’d like to make you happy too. I was thinking that we could go on a drive tomorrow if you’d like. We can go get ice cream and stop by any shop you want.” Charles notices the hint of excitement in Cody’s eyes. He also sees the relief in the little boy’s face, hearing Charles speak so lovingly about his mom.

Cody grins at him, “I’d love to! Your car is really cool. Does it go really fast?” Question after question falls from the little boy’s mouth, his excitement not contained anymore. Charles chuckles, sitting down on the couch next to Cody, answering every question he’s got.

You finally emerge out of the bedroom, hair done nicely, makeup finished as you make your way to the living room where you find no Charles and no Cody. How odd. As you begin searching you hear giggles coming from the kitchen and your heart swells at the image you see as you peek around the corner.

Cody’s sitting on the counter, a pancake in his mouth, laughing at Charles who’s attempting to flip the pan expertly as to flip the pancake around. He failed miserably as the pancake misses the pan and splats on the floor. Cody laughs loudly. “You’re so silly Charlie.”

A nickname. Cody gave Charles a nickname. You feel your heart ache as you smile at them. Charles has a faint flush to his cheeks when he spots you in the hallway, a smile on your face. “What’s going on in here? Are you burning my house down, Cha?” Cody turns his head to you, still happily snacking on a pancake that didn’t fall to the floor. “We’re making pancakes! Do you want one mommy?” Cody offers you a plate with a smiley-faced pancake and you can’t help but laugh. “Sure, thank you baby.” You sit down at the counter, enjoying the moment with them.

Charles made you call the babysitter to cancel. “Why would we go anywhere else when this is where I could only dream to be.” He took your hand as you’re now sitting on the couch. Cody sitting on his other side, you see Charles holding his hand as well. Your heart swells at the image, and you realise that this was what you’d dreamed of as a little girl. A perfect family.

“We can go on a date another day this week. This moment is more important.” Charles whispers, giving you a small kiss and continuing to watch the cartoons on tv.

You realise that this is how you’d be able to spend forever. With them. With Charles.

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ★

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x single!mom!reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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homeofthelonelywriter · 1 month

Text

Of Cupcakes and Skulls | Part 3

(A/N) Time for some angst, baby!

Pairing: single dad! Mafia! Simon x baker! Reader

Warning: angst, threats against Reader

Synopsis: Based on this post by @lunamoonbby

For a moment, you were frozen. ‘You’. Whatever he meant when he said ‘you’, it wasn’t going to end well for you. Your eyes jumped from one man to the next, all of them were bigger and definitely stronger than you. But maybe you would be faster. Slowly, as if not to startle them, you took another step back. And another, until you stood in the doorway to the kitchen. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your bag, which contained both your phone and your wallet, with Simon’s business card.

“Look…I-I don’t know what you’re t-talking about, but I don’t know anyone by the name R-Riley.”

One more step. One more step and you could quickly grab your bag and run for the walk-in cooler. It hadn’t worked a single day since you had bought the bakery, and you could never use it since the door would jam if you closed it. So it just sat in the corner of the room, the door always slightly ajar.

“Now, now kleines, no need to run away.”

You hesitated. Did he really read you so easily? Or was it just because you were backing away?

“On the contrary. I believe this is the moment to run.”

And you did. Your right hand quickly grabbed your bag, as you spun on your heels and took off in the direction of the cooler. After a moment of confusion, the men took off after you. But that one moment would save you. Just as they reached the cooler, you slammed the door shut, stumbling back and falling onto your ass as the momentum carried you inside.

You heard the men banging against the door, pulling and pushing but it wouldn’t budge. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you relaxed for a second, the tension leaving your body. But as the men outside started shouting, it reminded you that you weren’t entirely safe.

Without hesitation, you spilled the contents of your bag on the floor, grabbing your wallet and ruffling through it until you found the black card. Picking up your phone, you dialed the number, quietly praying for Simon to pick up. It rang once…twice…

“Who is this?”

Relieve flooded you and you almost cried, tears gathering in your eyes.

“Simon? Help me.”

You whispered his name, not wanting the men outside to hear you. It was silent for a second before you heard the jingle of keys and Simon barking orders. He then said your name, his tone a mix of concern and resolve.

“Where are you?”

“Bakery.”

You heard him bark more orders, voices of men responding in the back as his quick steps echoed in whatever room he was in.

“What happened?”

As you were about to respond, the lamps suddenly turned on, bathing the steel box you were in, in cold light. Cold air immediately began seeping from the vents. How did they turn it on? You thought it was broken.

“Oh, little bird. Put Riley on speaker, why don’t you?”

His voice was loud enough that Simon heard it through the phone. Simon said a name in a low growl.

“König.”

Slow, rhythmic bangs came from the door as you began to shiver, wishing that you had worn your cardigan.

“I said, put. Him. On. Speaker.”

“Do what he says, love.”

Not even registering the nickname, you quickly fumbled with your phone, until Simon was on speaker.

“Listen here you little shit, if you hurt her-!”

“Ah, ah, ah. You really shouldn’t insult me like that…Ghost. Now, I know you like die kleine Bäckerin, so do as I say, ja? Come here, alone, and let me kill you. Then the kleine Maus can go and I won’t hurt her.”

Simon cursed under his breath and was silent for a bit. You started to grow nervous.

“Okay. I’ll come, alone.”

The man, König, chuckled darkly and banged on the door a few more times.

“Good boy. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.”

You put the phone off speaker and raised it to your ear. Before you could say anything, Simon’s voice cut through.

“Listen to me and don’t say anything, act as if I hung up. I’ll be there in five, but you need to stay alive until I get to you, okay?”

You whimpered in response, a single tear running down your cheek.

“I know love, but it’ll be alright. Just keep your head down and I’ll get you out of there. I promise.”

Even though he couldn’t see you, you nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears escaped them and ran down your cheeks. Simon was silent for a few moments before he spoke up again.

“It’s okay. Look, if anything happens, I-.”

You cut him off in a whisper, so quiet he could barely hear you.

“Don’t. Not like this.”

There once again was silence on the other end. But only for a moment.

“Okay…okay. Stay on the call, I’ll be right there.”

You didn’t answer, but you knew that he wouldn’t lie to you. So you crawled into one of the far corners and cowered down, keeping the phone pressed to your ear. The next few minutes felt like hours as the men outside kept banging on the door, taunting you as more and more tears fell and the shivers grew stronger. Simon tried his best to keep you calm, but he knew that he could only do so much. But after what felt like an eternity, you heard his voice again.

“We’re almost there. I’ll hang up and I need you to cover your ears, can you do that for me, love?”

You whimpered in response and Simon took it as confirmation.

“Okay. I’ll see you in a moment, love.”

The moment he hung up the call, you placed your phone beside you and covered your ears. But it wasn’t enough to shield you from what happened outside. At first, there was a lot of yelling, and then the shooting began. You kept your ears covered, pressing your hands against your head as hard as possible while squeezing your eyes shut, trying to shut out the world and whatever was happening in your bakery.

You don’t know how much time passed before the shooting stopped. Slowly, you removed your hands from your ears, glancing toward the door. You could hear loud, hurried footsteps approaching and for a moment you feared that it was König or one of his men, but then you heard the familiar voice of Simon calling your name.

As quickly as you could, you scrambled to your feet and ran to the door, banging against it.

“S-Simon? Simon!”

You could hear him release a relieved sigh and open the door. Of course, it didn’t budge.

“I-It’s j-jammed.”

Now that you knew you were safe, the cold that had crept into your bones by now, finally got to you as your legs gave out from underneath you and you crumbled to the floor leaning against the door. You could hear Simon yelling on the other side and then hurried footsteps leaving.

“It’s alright, love, we’ll have you out of there in a second. Just hold on, okay?”

You didn’t respond, the cold and the absence of adrenaline leaving you weak. Simon kept talking until the footsteps returned and you heard metal squeak as they pried the door open. Not being able to keep yourself upright, you tumbled out of the cooler and landed right at Simon’s feet. He immediately knelt down in front of you, shrugging his suit jacket off, before wrapping it around you and picking you up.

“I got you, love. I got you.”

He muttered something to one of his men, something along the lines of taking care of things. Then he walked out the shattered window front of the kitchen and to a black car, parked in the middle of the street.

As soon as he made sure you were buckled in, he got behind the wheel and sped off, but not before turning the heating on full blast. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh, he sped through the streets until he came to a stop in front of a high rise. It was famous, but you never knew the mafia owned it. By then, you were warmed up, but you still felt weak. So you didn’t protest when he rounded the car and picked you up again, gently carrying you into the building and the elevator.

If you had been stronger, you would have marveled at the apartment, but at the moment, all you wanted to do was sleep. And Simon seemed to know that. He carried you straight to what seemed to be his bedroom and gently put you down. With what remaining strength you had, you helped him take off everything except for your underwear, as he gave you a huge t-shirt you could put on instead.

Once you were settled, Simon pulled the blanket over you, tucking you in, before rising to his feet and walking away. But you quickly caught his wrist and pulled him back.

“Stay?”

Simon hesitated, but after a moment, he nodded, quickly shedding his clothes and pulling on sleep pants, before he got into bed behind you, carefully pulling you against his chest. His arms, tightly wrapped around you made you feel safe. And slowly but surely, you drifted off to a restless sleep, the security of Simon around you, not carrying over into your dreams.

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Master-Masterlist

Tags: @lunamoonbby @distinguishedprincesstrash

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the20thangel · 2 months

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The Caged Queen

Summary: The war has ended. Rhaenyra is dead, and Aegon is left burnt. You from House Celtigar have married the King and ruled at his place because of his injuries. To try to bring stability to the realm, you invite the lords of the realm to pledge their loyalty to the crown. Forcing you to reunite with a lord from your past, tensions run, and feelings come back. (I have not proofread, so I apologize for any errors)

Benjicot X reader

Tags: NSFW, MDNI, 18+

Word count: 3.5 K

Masterlist

Sitting in the council room, listening to the state of the realm, seeing how you can bring it into peace after the dreadful war. You sighed, listening to the lords discussing the possibility of marrying Prince Aegon, Rhaenyra’s son and your husband’s child, with his first wife, Heleana, Princess Jaehaera. The war ended, but the tensions were still high around the realm. With the current council holding surviving lords from both black and green sides, meetings usually ended with arguments rather than solutions. Since you had yet to provide a male heir to the king, you understood it was only plausible for the two to marry, but you did not want that for your stepdaughter. For you know, the sweet princess would never survive the hardships of court, just like her mother. You also could not help but think that Prince Aegon would be okay with marrying the daughter of the man who killed his mother.

You were only a stand-in for your husband, who was too weak and almost always in pain to get out of his bed. Growing tired of the arguments, you cleared your throat.

“My lords, I understand that the realm needs stability, but I don’t feel like marrying the young royals will achieve this. They have not healed from the horrors of the war. I will not force them into a marriage that could end in resentment. What would we do once they, in their anger, kill each other? Hmm? The realm will be left with no heirs left.”

You explained, twirling a ring on your right index finger; it was pretty garnet. Lord Corlys gave you a pointed look, stopping you from your nervous tick. Lord Peake condescendingly looked at you with pity.

“My Queen, no insult to you or the king, but since you have yet to become with child, King Aegon’s reign is frail; we need to make sure that the realm has heirs to prevent a war from brewing again.” snidely explained Lord Peake, giving you a crooked grin, as eyes roamed down your body.

Disgusted, you sneered at the lord, “Surely, you understand, my lord, that my husband is always in a great deal of pain, so tell me, my lord, how am I supposed to become with the child if laying with my husband will cause him immense pain? You want to ensure an heir for him; you should find a way for me to do my duty. I am responsible for Prince Aegon the Younger and Princess Jaehaera's well-being. My stepdaughter is still a child; I will not force her into an early marriage. So let us conclude this meeting by brainstorming a more realistic way to ensure lasting peace for the realm; surely our families and people deserve that much?”

You stood up, prompting all the other lords to stand and bow their heads, letting you be the first to walk out of the council room. Walking to the king's rooms, you saw your husband peacefully sleeping on his bed. Turning to the maester, you asked about Aegon’s status.

“The King is in great pain, but he seems to relax once given some sweet wine and poppy milk. Hopefully, letting him have adequate rest will bring back his strength.”

Thanking the maester, you turned to look at Aegon. You suppose you got lucky; you were his second wife after the tragic death of Heleana. Lord Larys, before Queen Rhaenyra executed him, convinced Aegon that he needed another Valyrian bride, and besides the Velayrons, House Celtigar was the only other house with Valyrian genes. So your father betrayed Rhaenyra, and you were soon married to Aegon. Although you pleaded for the Queen to help you escape from your fate, she was already ridden by grief and sent you away, claiming that you betrayed her like your father. Then Princess Baela attacked Aegon a week before your marriage, injuring him more than he was before. So, although the seven witnessed the marriage, it remained unconsummated.

Of course, the only people who knew that it was unconsummated were your ladies and Alicent Hightower, who would only glare at you should you be in the same vicinity as her. It did not help that you started prohibiting her from reaching your stepdaughter, but the poor girl confessed her grandmother frightened her. Sighing, you placed a kiss on his forehead before turning to leave the room. Walking to the children’s chambers, Aegon the Younger and Jaehaera played quietly. Smiling, you greeted them, allowing both children to embrace you. They were innocent in the war and lost people they cared about, and you needed to protect them from lords who wanted to place burden after burden on them. You spent the rest of the day with the children, trying to ignore the nagging feeling from that morning's meeting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, another council meeting was called. As you sat at the head of the table, you noticed that only a few lords seemed happy, and Lord Peake was not one of them. Turning to Lord Corlys, he cleared his throat.

“My queen, after you left, I decided to follow through on your command and brainstormed a plan to bring stability to the realm, and I decided the course of action was to call all lords from the realm to come to Kingslanding and pledge their loyalty to the crown, ending the occasion with a ball. Therefore, the lords see how much we appreciate their oaths.”

As you thought in the plan, you brought up the concern that the smallfolk would see this as a slap in their faces if the highborn indulges while they are struggling. Another lord countered by saying they would provide opportunities for the smallfolk to work for the lords coming to Red Keep to earn coins and hold minor feasts outside the walls. Nodding, you decided to allow the plan to run its course, taking the rest of the time to prepare preparations for the many houses and where they would stay in the castle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two moons passed, and finally, the lords were here to swear their oaths to the crown. Aegon was improving but still had too much pain to leave his room entirely. As you stood with Prince Aegon and Princess Jaehaera, each lord came up, bowing and swearing his loyalty to the crown and House Targaryen. The last house from the Riverlands came up to the royals, House Blackwood. Lord Benjicot came forth, staring at the Prince for a while before bowing. Your heart started beating fast, seeing the Raventree Hall lord for the first time since your marriage. Seeing him so close, your chest tightened, but propriety was a border between you both. Benjicot raised himself, allowing both your eyes to meet, gray on lilac. You closed your eyes, nodding to him.

Benjicot stared at you. You were so close, but he knew better than to reach out for you. Seeing your face away from him greatly upset him; frowning, he bowed again before walking away, his fists curling.

Soon, the festivities began, with lords and ladies dancing and laughing, enjoying themselves. You tiredly smiled, happy that the court seemed to enjoy themselves, but it took a toll on you. Hoping to use the children as an excuse to leave early when the herald's voice came out.

“Presenting His Royal Majesty, King Aegon, Second of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”

Everyone gasped as the Kingsguard practically carried Aegon to you, and everyone paled, including you, at seeing your husband. Seeing him wheeze in pain caused you to quickly go to his side, helping him stand beside you as the court became silent. You scanned the room, seeing many of the court becoming uncomfortable at seeing your husband’s state, and you were saddened to see Prince Aegon shake in fear, walking farther away from you. Before walking to the young boy, you felt a coarse hand grasp yours. Turning, you saw Aegon pull at your hand. Walking towards him, he reached up to you, barely kissing the corner of your mouth. You froze, stiffening at his actions and feeling dread when you made eye contact with Benjicot, whose face darkened with anger, and walked out of the room. Your eyes followed the lord as Aegon addressed the crowd.

“I thank all of you here for coming to swear loyalty to me and my queen. Even though I have not made many appearances in court, I know I have left my rule in the best hands possible. My lovely wife has done an excellent job in ruling in my name, and I wish to come out today so that we may take the time to honor her.” He gasped again in pain as he pushed for you to stand closer to the crowd.

The lords and ladies smiled, clapping for their queen; what Aegon was the truth, you had ensured that the realm slowly returned to the peaceful times of King Viserys. Shyly, you smiled at the crowd before turning back to your husband, urging him to return to his chambers, seeing him in pain. You may not fully love your husband, but you were not cruel to enjoy him in pain. He nodded and kissed your hand again before leaving with his guards. Sighing, you clapped your hands, asking for the bards to play joyful songs for dances.

Turning to the prince and princess, you saw how pale they were from Aegon’s appearance; you comforted them and let one of your councilmen know that you were also retiring with the children, not noticing how a certain councilman, followed you out and then changed course towards the king’s chambers. You spent an hour with each child, reading them sweet Valryian tales until they relaxed enough to sleep. Smiling, you kissed each child goodnight before walking out and making your way to the Queen’s Chambers. As you were a few steps from your chamber, you felt an arm grab yours. You spun to punch your attacker, but your hand was quickly caught as you heard a slight chuckle. You relaxed, seeing that it was Benjicot. You nodded as you addressed him.

“My lord, pardon my attack, but I would have thought you knew better than to sneak up on your queen?” you questioned, noticing your hand still in his, but you made no move to remove it.

“Forgive me, my queen, but I couldn’t help but notice you walking alone. Should you not have guards or ladies with you, or does your king not care what happens to his wife?” Benjicot criticized.

You lightly scoffed, “Usually, no one outside the royal family would be this far into Meagor’s holdfast.”

Benjicot flushed; he was caught. Still, he shook his head, backing away slightly from you.

“I apologize; I got lost while walking around the grounds. I was trying to find my way back to the ballroom when I heard footsteps,” he confessed, his eyes softening as he fully took your appearance.

Nodding, you point him to the correct path, wishing him goodnight as you turn away. Pausing when he called your name.

“Lord Blackwood, I am the Queen; you do not have permission to use my name freely,” you quietly hissed at him. Feeling your chest tighten again when you heard his husky voice speak your name.

Benjicot smiled, walking towards you, his body nearing and pressing to yours. You both stared at each other, him taking a strand of your hair.

“Does he treat you well?” he questioned, staring into your eyes.

Your eyes softened, nodding, “Yes, as best as he can. I hardly see him, but he is kind whenever we see each other.”

Ben nodded; feeling reckless, he reached to caress your cheek, but you moved your face away from his touch.

“Don’t,” you stated, your eyes hardening at him.

Ben frowned, “I’ve missed you…”

You cruelly laughed at his words, smirking tauntly as his frown deepened.

“You missed me? You left Ben… You don’t get to miss me when you abandoned me when I needed you the most… You lost the right to miss me.” you angrily stated, tears slowly falling down your cheeks.

Ben shook his head, wiping tears away from your face. You sob out as you allow yourself to lean to his touch; no matter how much you can deny it, you miss him as well.

“I did not mean to…I had to follow my duty, to fight for our queen-”

You shushed him. Looking around, you brought him inside your chambers.

“Do not speak about Queen Rhaneyra freely; you could be charged with treason,” you warned him.

“I will never deny Queen Rhaenyra’s claim, you know this, at least you did before you married her murder and become a queen-” Ben didn’t finish his sentence as you slapped him.

“Do you think I wanted this? I never wished to be queen. I never wanted to marry him. But what other choice did I have, Ben? I was alone; the queen pushed me away because of my father’s actions. You left me, YOU LEFT. Allowing my father to force me into a marriage I did not want. What was I supposed to do? Kill myself or try to survive and marry a man who was broken. Prince Aegon would have been killed with the queen if not for me. I fought for Prince Aegon while you all were fighting silly battles. I …” you sobbed, falling to the ground in heartbreak, finally allowing your walls to break down since you walked up the blasted steps of the Sept.

Ben swallowed bitterly; he hated seeing you cry; kneeling, he gathered you to his arms as you continued to cry in grief. Hushing you, he kissed your crown, trying to comfort you.

After a moment, you leaned back, your face close to his.

Ben smiled sweetly, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you…. When I heard you married him, I became resentful and filled with rage. The battlefield allowed me to release my anger.”

You shook your head. Sadly, smiling as you felt a kiss on your cheek, “I don’t love him… I hoped you would have come to take me and the prince away from this golden cage. I cried at my wedding, trying to imagine that it was you who I was marrying infront of the weirwood tree, not him…but you never came. You left me, Ben.”

Ben closed his eyes in pain; he regretted not coming to take you away.

“If I could go back, I would… I love you…I will never stop loving you,” he confessed, leaning in but stopping away from your lips. He would not dishonor you.

You softened at him. He was still your sweet Ben. You were still his lady. As you expressed your thoughts, Benjicot grinned. Unable to stop himself, he finally kissed you. Allowing yourself to fall into his kiss, you placed your arms around his neck, leaning more into the kiss. You will stop denying yourself to him. You wanted him.

As the kiss deepened, Benjicot dragged your body closer to him, causing you to grind his lap and groan at the sensation. Feeling like he was dishonoring you, he was about to stop when you grinded yourself harder to him, taking a loud groan from his lips to yours. Ben growled, knowing he should stop. You were married and the queen, but your sweet body cast a spell on him, with each movement of your hips, called out to his groin as it stiffened with each grind. Ben pressed your hips down harder to cause the fraction to strengthen; you grabbed his other hand and placed it upon your breast, moaning as he fonded your breast.

Separating his lips from yours, he leaned to your ears, groaning your name from your movements, “We need to stop, my queen; if you don’t… I don’t think I will stop myself…I don..dishonor…fuck.”

He could not finish his thoughts, leaning his head back from feeling your hips circling on his lap. Forgetting his argument, he kissed your neck, sucking and biting. You gasped in delight.

“Your queens need you, my lord, I command you to love me…I command you to take me…take me, Ben.” you pleaded, grinning as he growled and picked you up, throwing you on your bed.

Feeling giddy, you began to undress yourself as you saw him stalking you, undressing himself along the way. Calming on the bed, he pulled your body to him. Both groaned as he rubbed his stiff cock on your wet cunt.

“So wet for me, I bet he could never get you this wet… you're wet for me and only me, my sweet girl,” he whispered to your ear, grinning as you moaned at his teasing.

Kissing him, you wrapped your legs around him, sighing in delight as he rubbed himself on you. “I will never know; we never consummated the marriage..” you confessed.

You needed him to know you were still a maiden. That you never entirely gave yourself to the king, that Ben would be the only one. Benjicot froze upon hearing the news; technically, your marriage was not valid… technically you were still his as he was still yours. Grinning wildly, he kissed you more fiercely, causing you to gasp and allowing him to sneak his tongue into your mouth. As you grabbed his shoulder, you felt the slight pain of him entering you. He fully sheathed himself inside of you, pausing to let you get used to his size and girth.

Although it was slightly painful, you were happy; no other man would be inside you, for your body and soul were committed to Benjicot Blackwood. Nodding for him to move, Ben started slowly and deeply, causing you to moan, leaning your head back on your pillows, enjoying his sweet movements and kisses on your neck. As much you loved him being sweet, you needed more; you waited too long enough to have him.

Pleaded for him to go faster, Ben grinned, switching his position to allow him to lift his hips faster as he began to pound into you, groaning as your walls began to clench around him. He felt at home; he belongs between your legs. Moaning, you began to drag your nails down his back, locking your legs around him.

Sounds of skin slapping became louder with the grunts, groans, and moans coming from the queen and her lord. You whispered his name like a prayer, meeting his hips with each thrust, clenching hard as he pounded into you. You needed him; you will never tire of him. Soon, both movements began to grow sloppy, feeling your release coming fast. As Ben started to exit, you quickly grabbed his upper body with your arms as your legs tightened around his hips.

“No, I will have it no other way but inside me; finish inside me; your queen commands it, Ben,” you commanded, moaning as he slammed hard twice before feeling his hot, creamy release inside of you. Coating your walls as your release milked him of every drop he gave.

As you finally came down from your high, you breathed heavily; he was still inside of you. You ran your fingers through his hair, making him look up to you. Smiling, you brought his face to yours, kissing him sweetly. Benjicot grinned, moving up to caress your face when you both heard a commotion outside. Freezing, you both quickly jumped from the bed. You change into your shift fast before turning to help him redress. Hearing the Kingsguard yell, you promptly pushed him to hide as you turned scared, the guards flying into the room.

“My Queen!” stated a guard as you reached for a cloak.

“Commander, what is it?” your heart beat so fast. Did they hear you and Ben?

The commander scanned, looking for danger; when he saw nothing, he turned to you.

“My queen, I regret that the King has been poisoned. We are looking for the culprit.”

You gasped; Aegon was dead. Quickly, you commanded the court to enter the throne room, asking the rest of the guards to bring the children to you. As they left, you breathed. He was gone; you would no longer be queen. Turning to Ben, he left his spot, taking your face into his hands.

“You need to go to Ben before they find you and try to blame you…I’ll see you in the throne room. I will fight for Rhaenyra’s son to be king and bring my queen’s wishes to life.” you asked of him.

Nodding, he kissed you once more before he began to leave. Pausing, he turned to you with a slight grin.

“After this mess, will you marry me, my queen?” he asked, causing you to blush.

You smiled as you breathed your answer, “I will gladly be your lady. After we crown our king, I will marry you infront of the Weirwood tree at Raventree Hall. Now go quickly.”

Benjicot dazzled you with a broad smile, turning; he quickly left you, eagerly awaiting for the future.

#benjicot blackwood #fanfic #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #benjicot x reader

184 notes · View notes

darylbae · 3 months

Note

hiii! could you write something fluff with daryl and a Latina reader? they are in a established relationship and she always rumble things or talk to herself in her language and daryl really wanna know more about what she saying and also wanna know more her culture but is really shy to ask plss🥺💕

spanish for dummies — daryl dixon 🩰

in which daryl wants to learn more of your language, but he is far too shy to admit it

note: i made it a lil drabble because i don't know a lot of spanish, if i got anything wrong please correct me!

You and Daryl had made it exclusive very recently, so it was all very new to you. But the two of you were so infatuated with one another, that it made everyone sick. He'd always have an arm around you, or coming to find you at random points in the day. People would even see you whispering to each other and laughing. It was all very sweet. You'd been at Hilltop for a few days, helping Maggie with running things day to day, and beginning to build a few things. Of course, Daryl had accompanied you from Alexandria to Hilltop, and promised to stay with you.

“Y/N!” One of the Hilltop residents called out, and you’d turned to spot them waving you over. You had quickly separated from Daryl, who had his arm around your waist as you spoke about potentially making shields. Although he had followed you over.

You’d run over to see the new water system installed. You’d selected a group of people to start making an easier way to get water into the community, and to see the large basins of water finally come to life, you were amazed.

“Es asombrosa,” you whispered, mainly to yourself in bewilderment that the plan you’d made together worked. Things were really starting to come together now, and you couldn’t be happier. “Well done, guys.”

As you’d started to walk off, Daryl had caught up to you and smoothed his hand over his jaw. You’d come to notice it was a nervous tick of his. “What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?”

“Whatever you just said.”

“Oh, es asombrosa? It means it’s amazing. It’s a good thing.” You smiled, only now realising you’d have to translate some things that were natural to you.

Daryl just nodded, still curious about all your little phrases you’d come out with daily. You don’t really notice yourself doing it, but Daryl does.

Staying at Hilltop, you’d made some progress, you’d spent the whole of today tending to the crop just outside the walls. Whilst a small group had gone out on a run, Daryl included.

It wasn’t until you heard the roar of a motorcycle that you’d looked up to see your gorgeous man riding in, slowing as he approached the road next to you. His tough, brooding exterior shortly disappeared with a sweet smile, and you couldn’t help but throw your arms around his neck.

“Te extraño,” you sighed into his ear, breathing in the smell of his musk. You quickly translated for him, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart. Now let me take you home.” He cooed, taking your hand and helping you onto the back of his bike. To ride the extra few meters back into the gates.

That night, you and Daryl had settled into one of the rooms Maggie had allowed you to stay in whilst you were here. You’d crawled into bed long before Daryl did, as he was sitting through his backpack secretly.

“What you hiding in there?” You questioned, putting your book down and folding your arms. It was a playful prod but you weren’t expecting him to be so secretive.

“Nothin’.”

You huffed. “Come on, Dar. No secrets.”

“Just somethin’ I found today.” He admitted, throwing his backpack next to the bed.

“Ooh. Is it condoms?”

“No.”

“A stuffed animal?”

“Absolutely not.”

“A Halloween costume?”

“What? No.”

“Come on! Tell me!”

Daryl sat down next to you, an arm around you as you settled on his chest. “Fine”.

He reached into the backpack and pulled out a small book, and turned the title page towards you. Spanish for Dummies.

“Stop! Really? I think that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.” You squealed, pressing kisses all over his cheek and jaw.

“Just wanna understand ya more.” Daryl reasoned, brushing hair from your face, “so ya don’t have to translate everythin’.”

#inbox 💌#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon incorrect quotes #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon blurb #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n

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lucilleslore · 9 months

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oh lord i love your coryo drabbles so much! especiallyyyy the touch-starved one. i would quite literally die just to be able to read a drabble about coryo slowly falling in love with reader (being an average girl from district 12) over the course of being strangers to friends 🤭

➸ coriolanus arrives in twelve with a dark cloud over his head and a mind full of revenge and envy. he hates that he’s here, hates being surrounded by these people who are so below him, hates that his future is so uncertain.

➸ he’s been plagued by these thoughts for his journey, like a nonstop melody in his head but just as he’s leaving the station he spots you. you’re plain by capitol standards, in a dress that’s a few sizes too small and a little discoloured like you’ve had it for years but you’re smiling and when you see him staring at you, you smile more and offer him a sweet little wave.

➸ his lip curls a little in disgust. he doesn’t want to be approached, he just needs to think on how to get back home, that’s all. but he’s intrigued. so intrigued that when he’s eating his first meal he thinks of you, your name, your life, how that stupid smile of yours made his stomach go funny. when he puts his head down that night he wonders where you could be, if you’re with someone. that’s how easily his obsessions can start.

➸ then he starts to see you around, easily beginning to pick you out of crowds no matter how big. how did he ever think you were plain? compared to everyone else you’re a star, a gem in this dull district. you start to give him something else to think about, to mull over in the quiet moments and as much as he hates these feelings he’s having, he’s grateful for that.

➸ he sees you smiling at everyone. the old people who seem pretty useless to him, the men who go off into the mines everyday, the women who sell their items. what have they done to deserve that from you? the jealousy curdles in his stomach when he realises he wants those smiles to himself, doesn’t even want you to look at anyone apart from him. he’s infatuated with you.

➸ honestly he’s that feral he’d probably start using his peacekeeper status to his advantage. to get information from other people about you. it only feeds his obsession more so after a while he just stops you in the street. pretends something suspicious is going on and asks if you’ve seen anything. this little crease forms between your brows and he resists the urge to reach out and touch it. you’re just so genuine, so sweet, so uncorrupted. he wants you all to himself.

➸ it probably goes on like that for a while. he’s patient and the little snippets are enough for now. he busies himself with getting to know you deeper. watching for your little mannerisms and nervous ticks, figuring out what your real laugh sounds like compared to your fake one. stupid, stupid things. it’s a complete waste of time coryo thinks but he still can’t stop.

➸ he will definitely interfere in your life if he has to. you think you’re going out dancing with that cute guy from the mines? no way. not on his watch. he’ll find some way to keep the guy busy and when coryo sees you looking upset the next day he can’t stop thinking about ways to cheer you up. to get you smiling for him.

➸ there are nights though where he’s dragged out by his bunk mates and sajanus and he sees you there too. dancing with your friends, singing and laughing and in those moments if he could wish for one thing, he’d wish to be in your life - properly.

➸ so watching from afar sustains him for a little while but coryo grows desperate with time. you don’t pay much attention to him anymore, he’s merely faded to the background as he’s become more comfortable in twelve. just another peacekeeper who’s handsome but you’d rather avoid.

➸ then maybe one day you’re walking back to your house with a little woven basket of food and someone’s not watching where they’re going and knocks you down. coryo of course is watching and rushes over, he’s not keen on the idea of playing the knight in shining armour but when he saw you on the muddy ground, dirty dress ridden up to expose a slither of thigh; he just had to help. even more so when the idiot who made you fall and knocked your groceries to the ground just turns and leaves you there. he decides he’ll deal with him later.

➸ you’re embarrassed of course, quickly smoothing your dress back down and offering the hand he gives you to help you up. you’re shy but so, so sweet. telling him how much you appreciate the help, giving his hand a little squeeze before you let go, tucking your hair behind your ear. coryo is perceptive though and sees the small disappointed frown that takes over your features when you see what’s happened to your shopping.

➸ and he can’t have that. so before he knows what he’s doing coryo has a hand at the small of your back, turning you around and offering to replace everything you lost. you complain that it’s not necessary, that he doesn’t have to do that but he’s not listening and he buys you double of everything. just to be safe.

➸ so in your head you have to repay him, right? you manage to do some baking with what you had and the next time you see him you’re handing him a little paper bag filled with some treats and he doesn’t know what to say. it’s small, insignificant but he hasn’t had a gift in a long, long time. he’s speechless and he doesn’t like it.

➸ from then on he finds a way to always take you on your errands. will switch shifts if he has to so he’s got the free time. he likes the way people stare at the two of you. the curiosity that plays on their faces when you take his hand and pull him over to look at something. he notices that about you; that you have this basic, unappealing life in twelve but you’re always finding something to be cheery about. you stupefy him sometimes.

➸ coryo begins to imagine putting you on the train and taking you home with him when he goes. showing you what a real life could look like, the glamour and luxury the capitol could offer. you deserve a life like that, you deserve to be spoiled and taken care of. by him, only him. this is when he really starts his scheming because he needs to find a way to get you out of there.

➸ he starts to get closer to you by always showing up for you. you need walked home? he’s there. if you’re out at night he doesn’t just watch anymore, he’ll come over and tell you how pretty you look. he notices you start to walk extra slow, taking longer routes home and he tries to act like you wanting to spend more time with him doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

➸ coryo definitely starts getting in fights. a lot of them. over you. can’t take it when men’s eyes linger too long, when they look you up and down like you’re their next meal. he dreams of getting you to the capitol, even when banished he’s sure they’d show him more respect than he gets in twelve. for gods sake, the men are like animals. he needs to get you out of there.

➸ there’s one day where you invite him to the lake and you see coryo in a different light. where he can be fun and romantic in his own light. he picks you some wild flowers but proceeds to tell you how ugly they are compared to his roses back home. helps you put together a makeshift meal just to screw his face up and tell you how much better the food back home is. you can tell he’s going somewhere with it, you just don’t know where exactly.

➸ your favourite part is when the two of you get in the water. when coryo is a breath away and droplets of water were hanging from his lashes. when the world was quiet and it was just the two of you. you weren’t as naive as he thought you were. there was times you’d look at him and see right through to the darkness of his core. times when you’d want to shrink back when you’d see the empty, hollow expression on his features. he was different, your coryo; but you were determined to love him all the same.

➸ when your lips brushed his coryo tensed up. unprepared for the way it made him feel. the dizzy rush in his head, the way his stomach was rolling. the simplest form of affection and he could hardly breathe, couldn’t think straight even if someone offered him money.

➸ you pulled back, afraid you’d scared him off and he looks terrified. you give him what you hope is a reassuring smile. that smile, coryo thinks as he takes it all in. he’d do anything for that smile. its solidified with that one small kiss that he’ll never let you go. you’re completely and utterly stuck with him <3

#coriolanus snow #- !concepts!#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you

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cloudcountry · 2 months

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OH MY GOD. THE MIX UP VALENTINE POST. YOU ATE!!!! could i rq a version with riddle, ace, deuce, octavinelle, and lillia? 🫶🫶

SUMMARY: you get a gift that was meant for the student you like, and the contents spur you to action.

COMMENTS: this is a spin off post of this post!! IM GLAD U LIKED IT ANON i was proud of that one myself ehehe

also the character limit is five so i picked azul from octavinelle

Riddle sits up even straighter when he sees you approaching him with a heart shaped box and an envelope, his cheeks flushing pink. He clears his throat when you arrive, expression all twisted up as if you’re unhappy about something. Riddle turns to look at you, holding his chin high as he addresses you by name.

“Do you have something to tell me?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest.

“This is a pathetic gift for the Queen of Hearts.” you reply dryly, throwing the gifts on the ground and stomping on them, “Someone thought that would be enough for you, but I won’t stand for it.”

Riddle stares open mouthed at the torn envelope and crushed box of chocolates, but a giant bundle of roses blocks his line of sight.

“This.” you say, a bouquet of roses in one hand and an entire strawberry tart in the other, with the truffles from the box placed in a circle around it in your hands, “Is a far more fitting gift for courting the queen.”

Deuce freezes after he reads the note you gave him with a sour face, cheeks turning pink. He wonders why you look so upset when you just confessed how much you like him—even though the words seem a bit off...

“See, Deuce? I told you you were popular.” you scoff, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

You glare so intensely at the envelope that Deuce feels your anger and jealousy.

“Is this...not from you?” he asks softly, his heart plummeting out of his body. And here he was, getting all delighted and cheesy about it—

“Nah. It’s not.” you say flippantly, “I’m confessing my feelings in a much better way.”

Deuce gasps when you pull out a bouquet of dark blue roses, kneeling at his feet as you take his hand. He swears you see hearts in his eyes as he stares at the flowers and your face, which look up at him with determination he knows all too well.

“Deuce Spade, I want you to be mine.” you declare, and his legs turn to jelly as he babbles out an enthusiastic yes.

“I can’t believe someone who isn't me likes your dumbass.” you smack Ace’s arm as he snickers over the note, an immature gesture if there ever was one.

“Well, if you like this dumbass what does that make you, huh? A stupidass?” he quips, knocking his whole body against you.

You squeal and shove him back, sticking your tongue out at his shocked face as he falls off the bed.

“Really!? This is how you’re confessing your love to me?” Ace huffs, playful as always, “I want a divorce.”

“You idiot, I’m just speaking your language!” you snap back, throwing a pillow at his head, “All you do is tease and yap and jab so I’m giving you a taste of your own medicine!”

“Oh you’re on!” Ace jumps to his feet, pillow in hand.

It’s obvious he likes you back. It always has been. And even if that person hadn’t sent that note, you two still would have known just how much you care for each other, even if it remains (mostly) unsaid.

(You still trampled that note at least ten times during your pillow fight though.)

“Is this some kind of joke?” Azul says blandly, placing the letter down on his desk of his VIP Room, “This obviously isn’t your handwriting, nor is it your style of writing.”

“That’s because it’s not mine.” you say just as blandly, raising an eyebrow as Azul looks over his spectacles at you, “Were you hoping it was?”

“What is the purpose of this visit then? You bring me some random letter with a confession of love...don’t tell me you’re hoping to butter me up.” Azul chuckles, standing up as gracefully as ever, “You should know better than anyone that those tricks do not work on me.”

You stand up as well, arms crossed over your chest as you meet his stare with your own.

“Because, Azul, someone left that note in my desk. It was addressed to you, as you can see, so I bought it for you. What you just read is what encouraged me to take action.” you take a deep breath and summon all of your courage, there truly is no turning back now, “Azul, I am interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with you. I can assure you I’ve thought this over many times before coming to you with this proposal. If you’re willing, I would love to sit down and have a talk about the terms and conditions of this deal.”

You hold out your hand for a handshake.

Azul’s mouth forms an o shape, and for a second you’d say he looks shocked, but he composes himself quickly as is all too inclined to place his hand in yours.

“Well, well, well!” he beams, voice light and airy with what you can only assume is joy, “Let’s get negotiations underway, shall we?”

“Aww, you shouldn’t have.” Lilia coos, bringing a hand up to his mouth, “Why do you look so sour, sweets?”

“Because it’s not from me. It was stuffed in my desk and addressed to you.” you wrinkle your nose, the envelope clenched in your fist, “I don’t like the idea of someone confessing to you before I could.”

Lilia giggles, still hiding his mouth behind his hand. You stare blankly at him, tapping your foot so hard your ankle starts to cramp up.

“Oh, no need to look so anxious, dear. I’m sure you’re well aware of where my affections lie, yes?” Lilia approaches you, his fingers intertwining with yours as the envelope flutters to the floor, unnoticed and uncared for.

He doesn’t have much time left. He’s loved and he’s lost, he may as well go for what he wants while it’s still here, in front of him.

“That is such an indirect way of confessing.” you groan, squeezing his hand, “I even got you a whole bag of mystery flavored red lollipops...”

“Gifts are best shared, my dear!” Lilia laughs, pulling you over to his bed, “Now, hurry up! I want to see which flavor I get first!”

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zweiginator · 2 months

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hmm thjnking about bsf!patrick and inexperienced reader (projecting). you're in college and everyone you know is getting laid. you're just really nervous and have all these hangups. who better to ask then your best friend who's also a guy! patrick gets around, you're sure he's got some insight there.

you're sitting and talking with him when you start spacing out on how to approach the topic with him. when he's like Hello?? are you even listening to me? and you're like can i ask you something? he says yes and it takes you forever to get the words out because you're so embarrassed. you're beating around the bush like, "umm i know you sleep around a lot. and you're probably like super experienced and familiar with sex.. and like i'm not.. so i was just curious like." he's like holy shit just spit it out. you start bombarding him with questions like what's it like? and what do guys like? and i'm worried im not good! or what if i smell? am i supposed to shave? what if-

patrick starts laughing and at first you're so humiliated cuz you think he's laughing at you. but then he's like you've thought Way too much about this. he starts giving his two cents by talking about his experiences in Detail. and you're squeezing your thighs together bc you just found out your best friend is a munch. he notices bc ofc he does. and to prove how much he doesn't care about your insecurities, he eats you out right then and there to prove it.

him groaning when he sees your pussy and kind of getting a kick out of knowing no one's ever touched you there before. bringing your hand to touch his erection straining his pants to show how much you turn him on. you're instinctively trying to clamp your legs shut and he just shakes his head and pulls them apart like "nu uh i wanna see all of you. lemme see that pretty pussy."

omg best friend patrick save me …being so insecure and feeling so inadequate. asking yourself how the fuck you haven’t had anything more than a meaningless kiss at a party with a guy whose name you don’t even remember.

and being best friends with patrick— who has absolutely no issue putting himself out there, getting phone numbers and hooking up with beautiful girls—only makes it worse. you feel like you’ve tried putting yourself out there and going out more and it’s just not working.

so the conversation turns away from the movie you’re watching and towards sex because you just can’t stop thinking about it. you’re almost done with your first year of college and you’re still a virgin. it feels like a clock is ticking.

“i just feel like there’s something wrong with me.”

patrick looks at you. he looks serious for once. “there’s nothing wrong with you. i promise.”

“how do i know i mean—you have sex all the time. is there something about me that guys don’t like i mean, you can tell me—“

patrick cuts you off. he smiles and shakes his head. “fuck no, there’s nothing about you that guys don’t like. i mean, if a guy doesn’t like something about you then that’s on him, okay?”

but you just won’t let it go and you’re delving into the girls patrick has hooked up with. comparing yourself to them which is awkward for so many reasons but you just want to know—what sets them apart from you? what does patrick like in bed? maybe you could practice, maybe you could learn.

patrick’s cheeks are growing red, which is abnormal from a boy who’s never embarrassed.

and patrick goes into detail about what he likes in bed. you tell yourself you’re just curious, sitting on your hands and swinging your legs as you lean closer to him on the couch, wanting to digest everything he says. wanting to absorb and learn and be better. more desirable.

he talks about a lot of things. tits and ass, obviously. pretty glossy lips and nice hair. he likes thighs too, likes grabbing them when he fucks girls. patrick says of course he loves blowjobs and pulling girls’ hair up to watch them suck him off. the perverted part of him likes when they choke on him and sputter and whine. he likes messy make out sessions and when girls ride him so hard he doesn’t even have to move. he also likes doggy. pulling girls’ asses back onto his dick and rubbing his thumb over their asshole.

but patrick saves his favorite for last. he says his most favorite thing is eating girls out. he goes into detail with this one, maybe because he likes how intently you’re listening, how you’re letting out little gasps and how your lip is bitten between your teeth.

he likes spreading little pussies open with his big hands and keeping girls’ legs pinned apart. wide open for him to admire how wet he makes them. he loves to tease and rub their inner thighs, kiss them and lick them. he loves when they inevitably mewl and beg for his mouth. he loves pressing sloppy open-mouthed kisses to their cunts and laving and licking at their clits. spitting on them and splitting them open with his fingers. curling them up and making their hips jerk.

you’re wet now. and you squeeze your legs together.

and patrick stops his storytelling.

“you know what?” he asks.

you lean closer, wanting to be extra keen on what he’s going to say. “hm?”

“maybe i should just show you, yeah?”

you whimper. you’re not so sure but god you’re so turned on and patrick is really hot—you’ve known that forever but you’ve never seen yourself as on his level. it’s never felt in the realm of possibility to have him but now he’s looking into your eyes asking to eat you out. you nod.

“yeah. only—if you want to. but i’m nervous.”

“no need to be nervous. i’m your best friend.”

that’s precisely why you are nervous.

“okay—“

and patrick pulls you to him. kisses your navel and then your hips, his fingers looped around your pajama pants. he pulls them down and your legs are glued together. patrick can see your pretty panties, pink and cotton but beautiful nonetheless. he spreads your legs, runs a finger over your clothed cunt. he comments about how wet you are.

you hide behind your hands.

patrick wants to build your confidence. he wants you to realize how fucking beautiful you are because he sees it but you just can’t seem to.

“don’t be embarrassed.” he pries your hands away from your eyes and grabs your hand, pulling it to his erection, tented beneath his sweatpants. “see what you do to me? we’re in the same boat princess.”

then, he says your pussy is beautiful and you can tell he really means it.

and maybe you didn’t expect it to feel that good. you didn’t know anything could. but patrick’s mouth latches onto your pussy and he drools and licks and spits. sucks your clit into his mouth and rolls his tongue over it. plunges his fingers inside you and fucks you with them, with his tongue. slobbers on you and drools, moans against you with his fingertips dug into your thighs. you feel yourself about to cum and patrick can tell too by how you’re writhing and how your legs are shaking. you’re trying to shut your thighs and his head is locked between them but he’s strong and he can spread you how he wants to.

“keep ‘em spread i told you how i like to eat pussy didn’t i?”

#ask #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig smut #bsf!patrick

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