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lipringlrh · 9 months ago

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HE DOESN’T WANT ME WHEN HE’S SOBER.

lando ending | logan ending

summary: lando’s your best friend but seems to like you when he’s drunk. but then again, he seems to like everyone when he’s drunk.

pairing: lando norris x gn!reader

wc: 1.5k

The music was too loud but Lando was so close that he didn’t need to alter his volume - he was talking at the perfect volume that only you could hear him. Each sentence was getting lower, deeper and quieter, but your own mind made him louder, filling up every space in it with replays of him. He was engrossing. He was all you could think about.

He almost dropped the cup in his hand as he took the final step closer, not that the cup would've mattered to him, his only concern would’ve been making sure you stay dry. Still, your throat turned dry at the little distance between you both; at the prospect of what was surely about to happen.

His free hand drifted to your jaw, holding it so delicately and manoeuvring your face gently to face up at him at the perfect angle for him to kiss you. When it was just right, and he could no longer remove his eyes from your lips, not even for a second, his hand moved to the back of your head, holding you in place.

He leaned down, oozing out confidence despite the absolute fear inside of him, and rested his forehead against yours. You had closed your eyes, expecting him to kiss you, but you opened them again when you realised he wasn’t, pulling away only slightly due to the hand on your head preventing it further.

“Lan,” you breathed, your tone showing everything that you weren’t saying, “What are you waiting for?”

His eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily like resisting kissing you was the hardest thing that he’d ever done in his life. “I’m just making sure you want this,” he paused, opening his eyes and flicking them between your eyes and your lips, “Do you want this?”

“Yes,” you responded instantly, your desperation being evident from miles away. He held back a chuckle and instead revelled in the fact that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. “Please, Lan.”

“So polite,” he whispered, his voice low and hoarse. He titled your head again, bringing you impossibly closer. You could feel his shirt against your chest and his breathing on your face - there was no going back and you both knew it.

He was going to kiss you, he was leaning down, too slowly for your liking but it was happening and so you weren’t complaining. You felt a ghost touch against your lips - the slightest feeling - but it was there before being harshly ripped away in an instant.

“Mate! I’m going now, congrats on the podium,” Carlos said after walking up to Lando from behind, a hand on his back, the other one shaking his hand.

“Congrats on your win, more like it,” Lando replied, a half smile on his face, trying to be as genuine as possible and not show his annoyance that his moment was ruined.

Carlos looked towards you, about to share a goodbye with you, before noticing your dazed look and shifting between you and Lando as he noticed what was happening. “Shit- sorry, man- carry on, I’ll see you later, yeah?” he said, not letting either of you reply before wandering off, towards the door.

You both stood there frozen for a while, not speaking or moving, just staring into each other's eyes, begging the other for an answer.

Quickly, Lando had given up and stood up straight, looking into his cup and swirling what was left around. “I’m getting another drink, do you want anything?”

“No,” you said, barely audible and no longer looking at him or in his general direction. If you hadn’t shook your head as you spoke, he wouldn’t have known what you said and he really didn’t want to get into an awkward cycle of asking you to repeat yourself a few times before he finally heard you.

“I’ll find you,” was all he said as he left. You watched him as he cut through the crowds to the bar and ordered a drink and a shot, downing the shot the second that he got it.

He turned around and scanned the room, briefly meeting your eyes. You could tell he was debating whether to come back or not but you didn’t know what he decided as he began to stand up, so you made the decision for him and walked away to the side of the club, hopefully weaving through the tides of people enough that it would take a while for him to find you.

You ended up in one of the back corners of the club, pushing yourself into the wall so that people could squeeze past you and so you could people watch better. You were busying yourself giving strangers names and storylines, trying to distract yourself from whatever just happened, or could’ve happened, when you almost threw yourself to the floor in shock from a sudden hand waving in front of your face.

“Don’t jump - I was just trying to get your attention. I called your name a few times,” Alex said. You turned to look at him, slouching right next to you against the wall.

“Sorry, loud music,” you replied. It wasn’t a lie, the music was loud, but you could barely hear it over your thoughts whirring anyway. You watched Alex grimace and shake his head, somehow knowing it wasn’t the music distracting you.

“I saw,” he hummed as you took in a sharp intake of breath.

“I don’t-”

“You kissed him, finally, then what happened? Why are you all alone?” he questioned, his eyes scanning the place for Lando, knowing he’s not usually the type to leave you alone in places like this. He could tell you were upset and confused, and he needed to get to the bottom of it in order to work out whether he’d need to drive his car into Lando’s during the next race or not.

“No- he almost kissed me. Again. Carlos interrupted and he left. He left, Alex. Asked if I wanted a drink and left,” you spat, a mixture of uncertainty and anger clouding your voice. Why did he leave? He started it and left knowing exactly what was happening whilst leaving you with nothing - it was unfair.

Alex sighed. He wasn’t happy with Lando but knew what he felt for you and ultimately wanted to give him the chance to tell you without any mistakes.

“Maybe talk to him about it. He might just be unsure of where you’d like it to go-”

“He called the shots, Alex, he does it whenever he’s drunk, I don’t think he gets to be the confused one,” you sighed, looking at your feet. Alex paused and tried to think of another way to give Lando another chance to tell you how he feels without ruining it.

“Maybe talk to him when he’s sober. He’ll-”

“He doesn’t want me when he’s sober,” you whispered but wanted to scream. It hurt you to say it but you felt like it was true. Alex felt his breath hitch and his heart ache to scream at you that Lando does want you.

“That’s not right. Who wouldn’t want you?” he could see how it was affecting you and wanted nothing more than to make you feel better, but his train of thought was abandoned when he saw your body recoil into the wall in disgust.

He followed your eyeline to find Lando towards the middle of the room, kissing some girl that you had never seen before. He was leaning into her as if he’d die if he let go, and his hand was on the same place on the back of her head as it was on yours.

“Oh,” Alex said, not really knowing what else he could do. He was furious and wanted to mortify Lando in front of everyone in the room.

“Yeah, oh,” you repeated sarcastically. Your knees felt weak and your eyes were on the brink of bursting - it was impossible to hide if you tried. “I’m going to go home,” was all you could get out, your voice choking on every word.

You tried to convince yourself that you weren’t upset and rather you were disgusted but you couldn’t after the image of Lando sucking some other girl's face was plastered in your mind and you shed tears the whole way home. Lando didn’t know - in your mind he didn’t even care but as you were crying to Alex and Lily in an uber, he was looking for you everywhere. But as it hit him, the guilt and weight of what he’d done, and the realisation that you must’ve seen, he prayed that you’d let him explain, like he did every time this happened, whilst you would tell yourself, again, that you meant it this time; that he was too late.

lando ending | logan ending

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lowkeyren · 4 months ago

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—my muse, my cure.

in which : both you and jiaoqiu are deeply concerned about each other's health but have an unconventional way of showing it.

pairing : jiaoqiu x gn!reader

wc 850, established relationship, 2.5 spoilers woops (but this isn't angst trust), also ib by an iconic line in 2.5 iykwim, art by @/Lianzi_ on x, reblogs r much appreciated!!!

how do we get a picky eater to eat green peppers?

being a picky eater isn't easy, especially when you have a sly fox like jiaoqiu in your kitchen.

you think you're safe when you see a simple, mouthwatering dish; but with him, there's always a catch. beneath the savoury aroma of perfectly cooked meatballs or the comforting warmth of a soup, he hides the things you avoid —finely diced peppers, a hint of spice, or icky vegetables you swore you’d never touch.

jiaoqiu doesn’t say a word, but the way his ears twitch gives him away. he watches with a subtle, knowing grin as you take a bite, waiting for you to realize what he’s done. though by the time you do notice, it’s already too late. despite your best efforts, the subtle icky flavour of green peppers have already permeated your taste buds.

“you didn’t even notice, did you?” he teases, his voice laced with mischief.

you shoot him a glare as you reluctantly finish the dish, the flavours blending together so seamlessly that you almost forget what you were trying to avoid in the first place. (seems like his culinary skills managed to win you over once again)

“that’s not very polite of you, doctor.”

jiaoqiu’s smile widens at your response. “ah, come on now,” he says, feigning a hurt expression. “it's all in good fun. besides, you know those peppers are packed with vitamins. it’s good for you.”

you let out an exaggerated sigh, your irritation still simmering. “well, just because your dish turned out good, don’t think i’m letting you off the hook that easily,” you say, rolling your eyes, though a small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

jiaoqiu only chuckles at your response, clearly amused. “i see how it is,” his tone taking on a teasing lilt as he steps a little closer, “you best stay on your guard then, dearest.”

“how do we get a picky eater to eat green peppers?” the answer is quite simple. chop the peppers and mix them with minced meat to make meatballs, allowing the meat’s flavor to mask the peppers so even your fussy spouse can enjoy them.

how do we get a stubborn doctor to drink his medicine?

being a doctor isn't easy, especially when you’re injured and your partner is more worried about your own health than you are.

“qiu’er, i’m back!” the sound of your voice instantly draws his attention, he turns his head in your direction, the subtle rustle of sheets accompanying his movement. the bed dips slightly under your weight as you settle beside him, the warmth of your presence soothing. “here, i brought you some tea,” you murmur.

“careful, it’s hot.” you gently lift the cup to his lips, the steam rising and carrying with it the sweet, spiced scent of cinnamon —he immediately notices the strong overpowering smell right away.

ah… cinnamon? so you took his advice from years ago, but unfortunately a fox’s senses are sharper than most.

his nose scrunches slightly as the liquid gently brushes against his lips. “spiked my tea with something, dearest?” you pause, setting the cup down with a soft clink. though just as you’re about to retort, his hand reaches out, searching for you with a gentle touch. his fingers graze your arm, then find your hand, which he clasps with a tender grip.

“cinnamon is excellent for masking strong odors and is even used to conceal the scent of poison... but you wouldn’t be so cruel to me, would you?” he remarks with a playful smile, though there’s an ironic edge to his words, given his current condition.

you let out an exasperated sigh, “you wouldn’t take your medicine, qiu’er. i never thought you’d be such a stubborn doctor.”

he chuckles softly, the sound low and a little raspy. “stubborn? i prefer ‘selective.’” his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. “and i chose to have you as my doctor.”

“if it means i get to be the one who takes care of you, then i’ll gladly accept that,” you reply, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “now get some rest —doctor’s orders.” you help him settle back on the bed, careful not to accidentally press on his bandaged wounds, before gently pulling the sheets up to cover him.

you lean down to kiss the crown of his head, running your fingers through his hair in a soothing, rhythmic motion. “i’m only following your orders, baobei,” he mumbles softly, his words trailing off as he drifts into a peaceful sleep.

today the sun may blaze brightly in the sky, but its brilliance fades next to the warmth of your smile, a light that, though he may not be able to see, touches his heart more profoundly than the brightest day ever could.

how do we get a stubborn doctor to drink his medicine? easy. disguise it in a comforting cup of tea, masking the bitterness with cinnamon, so even he won’t notice until it’s too late. of course, your tricks never really fool him, but he lets you win anyway.

homeboy has been through so much

MASTERLIST.

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2cool4ghoul · 2 months ago

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I'm on Fire

Long time no see, eh?

sorry for my prolonged period of absence, I got shit going on!!!!

This is my first time writing for Joel Miller, I hope everyone enjoys, maybe it could be a two parter if people r feeling it! I haven't edited this because honestly who has time for that?

Summary: Reader asks for help with being taught hunting, gets stuck with Joel, who she thinks hates her, but we all know how that ends? Reader grew up in a cult situation where girls r taught they need to repopulate the earth after the outbreak and thinks sex is just for baby making, Joel wants to show her it could be more. I been listening to I'm on fire by bruce Springsteen and that song inspired this.

Warning: under 18 DNI! age gap not specified but allusion to it being gargantuan and ludicrously capacious, Smut, unprotected p in v (do I need to say it? WRAP IT), fingering, oral f receiving, slight daddy kink, doing it from behind, Joel is kinda mean, perv Joel, allusions to masturbation, innocence kink, religious imagery?, mentions of pregnancy, kinda public I guess, post outbreak, can be game Joel or Pedro Joel, any Joels a goal, no use of y/n, reader is female gendered, pussy pronouns, size kink if you squint, Praise kink, yearning, Joel feeling guilty and sorry for himself , boohoo, if I miss anything please tell me!!!! I love feedback!!

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You had been walking for hours.What was meant to be a simple hunt had now turned into aimlessly walking through the forest, staring at Joels back as he stalked in front of you. He refused to admit that he had gotten the two of you lost in the midst of chasing a rabbit, or a deer, or whatever it was he says he saw. When you did suggest heading a different direction, you were met with a sharp rejection, or a grunt telling you to keep your mouth shut. You knew he was angry before you’d even left, saddled with the burden of dragging you along with him.

You didn’t particularly know Joel and you didn’t particularly like him either. His stand-offish demeanour and deep glare whenever you were around made you feel small in his presence. You had given up on the smiling and politeness that you gave everyone else in an attempt at self preservation, yet deep down you so badly wanted him to like you. You weren’t sure what you did and at what point you did it, but Joel made it very evident that he’d much rather be torn to shreds by infected, than teach you the basics of hunting. Which, with the sun becoming low and darkness threatening to spill over into the sky, you thought maybe he didn’t know the basics of hunting either.

Frustrated, you huffed whilst adjusting your backpack on your shoulders, rolling your eyes slightly as he stopped to try and grasp any familiarities in your surroundings. “What’s got you all huffy and puffy?” He quipped, not even bothering to look over his shoulder at you.

“I am tired, Joel, we’ve been walking for hours now, I want to go home.” Sighing, your head fell back on your shoulders and he carried on walking.

“If I remember correctly, this was your bright idea, was it not?” His fists clenched at his side and you furrowed your brows.

“It was, when I thought I’d actually be able to learn something, I thought you were meant to be good at this-“

“I am good at this, you’re scaring ‘em all away, with your bitchin’ and moanin’” You’d obviously bruised his ego a bit there, yet the reaction you’d gotten was the most exciting thing that had happened all day.

Well, that and being able to watch him closely whilst he furrowed his brow, focusing down the barrel of a gun. Laying on the ground next to him, so close that you could nearly smell the musk that seemed to radiate off of him. Yes, you didn’t particularly like him, but looking at him? You liked that very much. You liked the way his arms looked when he rolled up the sleeves of his flannels. The way he looked when he started the day, fresh out the shower with his greying hair slicked back and slightly damp. The way his voice was low when he was trying to teach you a lesson. The way he crossed his arms and rolled his eyes when you made a joke, a suggestion, or even just breathed. Seeing all of this things was enough to put a pit in your stomach, a pit that you’d been carrying around all day with little idea what to do about it. It ached and it throbbed.

“Well maybe in your old age, your losing your touch.” You said it quiet, thinking that he wouldn’t hear you. But he did. He responded with a scoff, clenching his fists again. He wasn’t even going to dignify it with a insult back, his reaction alone was enough to make you feel insufficient. You both retreated to the silence and you kept yourself to your thoughts on how you were going to deal with the ache between your thighs.

______________________________________________________________

Night had fallen and Joel had still not managed to find your way home. Instead you’d found an old shack, barely together but good enough shelter to sleep for the night. Joel figured it was tomorrow’s problem, that and he couldn’t be bothered to listen to your complaints about how tired you were.

The dim glow of the campfire lamp created a yellow cast over Joels features and you couldn’t help but stare as he sat opposite you, eating a sandwich you’d given him earlier in an attempt to lift his spirits. His features were rough and frown lines had been permanently etched into his skin. This life had worn him down, toughed him up like leather. Maybe that was why he was mean to you. Maybe he’d ran clean out of kindness. His large hands made whatever he was holding look small, they were calloused and scarred across his knuckles. You didn’t want to imagine what things those hands had done. But you did want to imagine what they could do. Running over your skin, fingertips grazing your lips, leaving goosebumps and a shiver down your spine. Grabbing at your skin, creating bruises and marks, his fingers, thick and strong, spreading you open and filling you-

“The fuck are you lookin’ at?” Gruff and fed up, Joels voice snapped you right out of the darkest corners of your mind, your eyes widening slightly as you realised you had obviously been staring, eyes hazed over.

“I, uh, I was looking at my sandwich, I don’t think you deserve it.” Nice save, you praised your self internally and he raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you were some stupid insignificant thing.

“How come I don’t deserve it?”

“We caught nothing today, you didn’t teach me shit.” You tried your best to mimic the facial expression he was pulling, hoping that just maybe you could make him feel how he did.

“Hmm.” He grumbled after putting the last bite in his mouth. “’s'all gone now.” There was almost a smirk playing on his lips, his gaze making you squirm and squeeze your thighs together. What was happening to you? It felt like every fibre of your being was betraying you, begging for you to climb over to him and beg him to take you whatever way he wanted. “What’s the deal with you anyway?”

“With me?” Taken aback, you went slightly rigid, why would he want to know anything about you? He hated you, he made it perfectly clear. He nodded, eyes narrowing as if he was trying to work you out. “What do you mean?”

“Well, why do you want to learn to hunt? And don’t you have some boyfriend around to teach you?” This was the most he’d spoken to you all day, and he had you spluttering on the sip of whatever you’d just taken.

“I want to hunt so I can be useful,” you coughed out, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt to look casual, “and no I don’t have a boyfriend to teach me, so I suppose you’re just gonna have to put up with me for now.” Shaking your head, you tried at being playful, but it still didn’t crack his prying exterior.

“Pretty young thing like you, ‘bound to have ‘em falling at your feet.” It was said as almost a passing comment, but your shock was visible on your face, blinking and biting your lip trying to make up a response that was witting and defensive but you couldn’t.

Before you’d scrambled your way to Jackson, alone and bewildered, you had grown up in a cult, whose goal was primarily to restart civilisation. They’d taught how it worked, making babies and all that, and for a while you were happy playing the part, letting your father chose a man, who would be forced with the task of putting as many babies as he could inside you. You endured, what felt like a chore, with your partner, watching your friends fall pregnant. Your inability to fall pregnant was what made you run in the first place, hearing of what they did to the girls who could birth a child had frightened you, fearful that you’d be reduced to another mouth to feed. A drain on resources. So with all of that in mind, finding a boyfriend was never something that crossed your mind, nor was it something you greatly desired. But with Joel sat in front of you, legs spread with his thick thighs in your direction, you felt strings inside you being pulled that had previously been untouched.

“You think I’m pretty?” You swallowed, maintaining eye contact with him for a moment, trying to catch a hint of softness.

“I think you’d be doin’ better tryin’ to find a nice young man,” He adjusted his position and met your gaze, “rather than spendin’ the night in and old shack with’an old man like me.” This was him trying to be nice you thought, but it was having the opposite effect. It made you defensive and you narrowed your eyes.

“Oh because I’d be better off finding a man-”

“You’re puttin’ words in my mouth.” His interruption was calm, yet stern, shaking his head at you and rubbing his face with his hands. He’d succeeded in silencing you as you looked down at the ground in front of you, slightly embarrassed.

“I’ve had a boyfriend, or a lover, I don’t know what to call him,” You avoided him, you had no idea why you felt the need to be vulnerable, “and I don’t know what the whole big deal is, y’know?” You sighed, cheeks flushing a bit pink. “I don’t understand why someone would put themselves through that.”

“Through what?” He leaned forward slightly, curiosity shadowing his face in the dim light. Finally you lifted your head, showing him your red cheeks.

“That.” You hoped he understood your insinuation. And due to the sudden rigidness of his body recognised that he understood. He pursed his lips for a moment and then opened them as if to speak, yet nothing came out. Embarrassment was flooding your body, you regretted even bringing it up due to the sudden tension in the air. And there was that pit in your stomach again, aching and throbbing as you watched him stumble over words to say.

“Because it feels good.” Was all he could stifle out, watching your reaction carefully as your knitted your brows, screwing your face up in confusion slightly.

“Maybe for the men,” You scooted up onto your knees, looking up at him as he sat taller than you, “but for me, as a woman, its just so much pressure.” He was now looking confused, squinting his eyes, trying to understand.

“Pressure to what?”

“To make a baby.” He was beginning to patronise you, making you explain the obvious like it was some sick game. It got you all defensive again. “It doesn’t feel that great when all you can think about is if you’re going to be able to make-“

“It’s not just about that.” Adamantly he shook his head, eye scanning over your body watching as frustration overtook you. “It’s not just about making a baby.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Miller, I’ve had sex, I know what its about.” You bit sharp, heart thumping in your chest, moving closer to him to try and assert some dominance.

“I don’t think you do.” You could’ve sworn there was a ghost of a smirk hiding behind his beard. “Christ, I should not be the one telling you this.”

“Telling me what? What Joel?” You were now practically between his legs, kneeling, begging to understand what he could possibly be talking about. “Please, tell me, I don’t understand.” His eye were trying frantically, to look everywhere except for you.

“Darlin’, I cant be tellin’ you this, s’wrong.” His voice was lower, speaking to you quietly and firmly, grabbing a hold of your wrists. You felt hot under his touch, his rough hand wrapping around your wrists, staring into your eyes. “M’old enough to be your daddy.”

“Whats that got to do with it?” Your voice lowered to the same volume as his, you were searching for the answers in his eyes, and he looked conflicted. Like he was balancing options.

Your body was betraying you again, it wanted to reach forward, wrap itself around him, be as close to him as possible, as if the proximity now was not enough. As if the feeling of his fingers and palms on your now hot skin, was not enough.

“You think I haven’t noticed the way you’re always starin’ at me? Hmm, sweet girl?” God, if you were red before, now you were purple. Your skin was prickling, not just at the acknowledgment of your behaviour but at his sudden use of pet names. You couldn’t force words out even if you tried. “Why’d’you think I avoid you like you’re the plague?” With his face inches from yours, it was now easy to see that there was almost desperation in his eyes, like he was losing a battle, unable to let go of his grip still.

“B…Because, you, you hate me.” You finally stuttered out, your throat dry from the heaving breathing.

“Christ, no, I don’t hate you, darlin’, I just can’t stop myself when you’re in front of me, staring at me with those big o’eyes, looking like you’re just about ready to drop to your knees.” There was still no answer to your question, you still didn’t understand, you so desperately wanted to understand. Especially after watching the way he licked his lips, his burning stare taking in every inch of you, “And to think, you’ve been sat there, squeezin’ your legs together, and you don’t even know what you’re doing.”

“I, I, I don’t understand, what you’re saying, Joel.” Your chest was rising and falling, a sweat blanketing the both of you, his grip loosening but letting his hands travel further up your arms until they were at your back.

“Let me show you.” Was all he could muster out until his lips were on yours. He crashed against you, pulling you into him by your back. You fought for a moment at first, out of shock at his abruptness, but it did not take you long to be pressing your body against his, your fingers getting lost in his hair, gripping and tugging whilst he groaned into your mouth. His tongue found its way against yours, tasting every part of you, savouring the moment as you whimpered. You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath and he rested his forehead against your, “We shouldn’t be doing this.” The ache was taking over your body now, like it was all for him, making you force your lips on him again.

“Please, Joel, please,” You purred into him, his hand reaching down to your ass, gripping it hard, “please, I’m aching.”

“Baby, you don’t know what you’re doin’ to me,” he growled, his free hand reaching up to your neck, “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Please show me, I need you.” Begging, you ignored how right he was, you were sure what you needed but you needed it fast. The tension was becoming unbearable, you needed release.

He held you close by the small of your back, gently lowering you down until your back touched the ground and he was on top of you. Looking up at him through your lashes, you were ready to do anything he asked of you, your entire body feeling like it was electric. He continued kissing you, moving his lips down your jaw, down your neck, sucking and unbuttoning your shirt with an experienced hand. There was still a little bit of disbelief inside you, a failure to believe that Joel Miller, who 2 minutes prior you believed hated you, was on top of you undressing you. The anticipation for his next move was unlike anything you’d experienced before. “God, I’ve thought about this,” His voice vibrated across your chest, your body lifting to meet his lips, your bra exposing your cleavage, “now look at you, angel, whimperin’ for me like a bitch in heat.” He was grinding his hips, pressing his hard bulge into where you needed him most.

“Please, it hurts, Joel.” There was nothing you needed more than what he was giving you, the friction of denim rubbing together was nothing cooling the burning sensation between your legs.

“I know, baby, I know.” He grumbled, “m’gonna show you, jus’ takin’ my time.”

Kisses were descending south down your body, soft red marks left in their wake. He was taking his time, occasionally glancing up at your wide, blown out eyes. He wanted to show you exactly what he’d meant. Exactly what he’d meant. When he finally reached the waistline of your jeans, he tapped your thighs, signalling for you to lifts your hips so he could begin to pull them down your legs and then off your body entirely, taking your white cotton panties with them. You instinctively pressed your knees together, immediately feeling exposed in front of Joels large frame.

He tutted, “Ain’t no use bein’ shy now, sweet girl, you gotta show me where you need me.”

You did as you were told, spreading your legs, whilst he knelt back, palming the growing tent in his jeans. “that’s it, good girl.” groaning, he leant forward, lowering his body to meet yours, “Look at how wet she’s got f’me, you might not know what I mean, but she definitely does.” A sadistic chuckle left his throat, watching you squirm under his intense gaze.

Your body jolted when one of his fingers gently slid up your folds, collecting the wetness and slick, leaving you unable to breathe. No one had ever touched you there, not even yourself, and here was Joel Miller, slack jawed, toying with your hole however he pleased. He did slow motions up and down, watching as you glistened in the dim light. You had no idea you were capable kf feeling this feeling, a tingling sensation rippling in waves along with his touch. You were absentmindedly grinding your dripping cunt in motion with him, your eyes flickering shut whilst your head rolled back. “that’s right, baby girl, feels good don’t it?” Joel cooed through a smirk, watching intently as you rubbed against him.

“mmhmm,” You hummed in a daze, this must’ve been what he was talking about, “so good.” And with your admission of pleasure, a small smile dancing over your lips, he took his hand away. Your head snapped up and you propped yourself on your elbows, looking down at him with pouted wet lips. He took little notice of your reaction, instead he wrapped his arm around your thighs positioning his face opposite your throbbing pussy.

Before you had time to question why he was so close, he showed you. He dove into like a you were water and he was in a drought. Gasping, you watched with your jaw wide, panting whilst he licked and sucked at you, his tongue exploring every inch of you. “Joel, fuck, my god, what are you doing?” you panted, your chest rising and falling heavily.

“Well,” he spoke between breaths, “I’m tasting you, darlin’ and boy, don’t you taste sweet.” he continued on, watching your breathing growing erratic, the torment his tongue was bestowing on you causing your eyes to roll back into your head, a hand holding onto his forearm. “your old boyfriend never came down for a taste?”

“No” Just when you thought you couldn’t feel any better, he brought you to a new high. One which made you sure that this was what he was talking about surely it didn’t get better than this. Feeling his beard scratching against your thighs, seeing the absolute sheer pleasure in his eyes as his tongue fucked itself into your hole.

“He was missing’ out, I’ll tell you that much, sweetheart.” It was a smug scoff. He was immensely enjoying the effect he was having on you. See you wriggle, unable to keep still, holding your hips firmly down to the ground so he could have his way with the sweet pussy in his mouth. Knowing that his mouth was the only one to taste you, to savour and relish in the taste of you, god he felt like one lucky man.

The pit that started in your stomach had now grown and blossomed to take over your entire body, it was consuming and controlling you. Your back arched off the ground, only remaining anchored by Joel firm hands, you let one of your hands grab fistfuls of Joel’s hair, pushing him closer against you, whilst your other hand took to your breast, pinching at your hardened nipple underneath the restrictions of the bra. You cared not for the noises you made, filling the otherwise silent forest with salacious moans and Joel’s name. If a search party had been sent out for you, they’d definitely find you. They’d find you laying half naked, fucking yourself on Joel tongue. It was nearly shameful how much you were at his expense. The grip was gone from one of your thighs, your weak leg dropping to the ground giving him a wide access as you planted your foot on his back. He leant back for a moment before pursing his lips and spitting directly onto your already drooling cunt, making you flinch.

“look at me, pretty girl.” He took a breath, your eyes meeting his, “god, what a sight for sore eyes, so pretty, look at me.” babbling his took your moment of distraction as a invite to insert two of his thick fingers into your hole, smiling again with wet lips, the juices from your pussy dampening his beard and shinning off of his prominent nose. Your eyelids fluttered as you struggled to make eye contact with him, your lip between your teeth to hard you were sure it was going to draw blood. at first he made sure to slowly let you adjust to the stretch of his fingers, feeling your walls constrict around his digits. “mmm, thatta girl, taking my fingers so well, is that nice?” His praise made you fumble, unable to form sentences, only being able to respond with a over ambitious nod of your head, pouting with beads of sweat dribbling down your temples. “I bet it’s nice, no one’s ever touched you like this, huh? My needy girl, following me around, so full of desire with no where to go.” You continued nodding, hypnotised by his words, his fingers curling to reach a spot, overwhelming you, tears prickling in your eyes. Your stomach was tight, the pressure building and building, your knees growing weak. “My girl.” He repeated to himself, looking your up down as if he was admiring his handiwork.

“M’all yours.” It left your throat involuntarily, strangled and choked, pathetic.

“All mine?” He huffed incredulously, “Yes you are, all mine, christ girl.” His mouth returned to the mess he had made made, lips wrapping around and pulling at your clip, releasing with a wet pop. You hissed and tugged at his hair, his nose smushed against your skin, sniffing and smelling as much of your natural scent as he could. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate a pussy this intoxicating, or if he ever even had.

Something was about to rupture in you, it panicked you, washing over your body. You were unable to breathe, unable to release the grip you had on him, your eyes widening as you trembled against joel’s mouth. “Joel.” you squeaked out and he looked up at you with dark eyes, “what’s, fuck, I’m…” Your heart pounded in your chest and in your ears, you could barely focus, unable to form a sentence, or even get a word out.

“that’s right, go on, let it out,” his warm breath fanned against your sensitive area, “make a mess, let go f’me, soak my finger.” He was rattling you and egging you on, seeing your pathetic, writhing, sweating body in front of him.

Once more, you did as you were told. And holy shit.

It was like your entire body was on vibrate, toes curling, unable to even make noise. Stars were bursting behind your squeezed shut eyes, body lifted forward off the ground. “That’s my girl, there she is, fucking hell, give it to me, darlin’” He groaned, digging his hips into the ground, watching you come undone. The tension was being released in constricting waves, your walls clenching and squeezing around his fingers, which remained still, but still putting pressure on the spot they had previous being stroking relentlessly.

“oh my god, Joel, fuck me, oh my god, fuck, fuck.” When you could finally breathe again, you whined his name, cursing and crying a stream of profanities, his fingers leaving you empty whilst his tongue lapped up every precious drop of your high. It took a couple blinks for your vision to come back at when it did, you were met by the proud grin plastered on his face.

“what was it you said earlier? somethin’ ‘bout me losin’ m’touch in m’old age?” He teased, before putting the fingers that had been in you, into his mouth. He sucked them dry, letting his eyes roll back into his head for a second. “Sure didn’t seem to mind my touch when you were choking my fingers.”

“what was that?” You almost lost your voice, your throat dry. Joel was working his way up your body, kissing you and nibbling at your salty skin.

“That, my darlin’, was what I meant.” His teeth pulled at your earlobe and you took deep breaths before letting your fingers nimbly start to unbutton his own flannel.

“Do it again.” You pleaded, staring into his brown eyes, trying to rid him of his shirt as quickly as possible.

“Christ, you are needy,” He stopped his kisses, “she’s already wanting more? it feel that good?”

“Please, do it again, I want more.” You were completely possessed by the pleasure you had felt, gagging to feel more, you wanted him carnally, to have as much of him as possible.

“Use your words, what do you want?” He was enjoying this too much for someone who had previously stated how wrong it was. He was going to give in, there was no way he couldn’t with his cock so painfully hard in his pants, he just wanted to relish in having you beg for him some more.

The truth is that he’d spent plenty of time watching you. When you first came to town and Maria set you in the cabin next door, Joel had watched you. In fact, his bedroom window had been so perfectly placed so that at the right time of night, when you stepped out the shower he could make out your outline behind your curtains. In these moments, Joel would let himself indulge in all the dirty, perverted thoughts he’d kept locked up. He take his manhood in his hand and pleasure himself at the thought of feeling your skin against his, the thought of you whimpering and offering yourself, spread apart, for him. He’d thought many times about bounding through the door, ruining whatever was left of your innocence. He hadn’t, however, imagined that you had this much innocence left. And he would’ve never imagined in his wildest dreams that you’d be begging him for more, for him ruin you.

“I want you, I want you to fill me up, to stretch me.” You were speaking whatever came to mind, no thinking, just action, tumbling over your words with the grace of a bull in a china shop. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, your eyes fucked out, hair matted and wild. This was enough for him to give in, allowing you to push his shirt down his arms, revealing his tanned skin and soft belly. Hair scattered below his waistline and you were eager to find where it lead to.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, girl.” He cursed, watching your small hands struggled with his belt buckle. When he’d agreed to help teach you hunting, this is the last place he thought he’d be.

He ended up undoing his belt himself, your frantic hands proving useless, but this meant you got to watch with wide, hungry eyes as his cock slapped his lower stomach, red and swollen with pre-cum beading at the tip. You were speechless, gulping, unsure of whether it would even fit. After he’d discarded of his jeans, reaching round and pumping his shaft in his fist. You were starving for him, the way he looked in this light, completely bare in front of you. He came down to your height, lips against yours, tongue in your mouth. “Can you taste yourself? Taste how sweet you are?” You purred a yes into the kiss and he pulled away, grabbing your chin between his thumb and finger. “taste good don’t you?” His half-lidded eyes remained fixed on the way you licked your lips and smiled sweetly at him, as if you were completely angelic. “yeah, you like it? ‘Course you do, jesus.” He shook, he wasn’t gonna last long with you looking the way you did, feeling the way you did. “how do you want it?” He was buying himself time, his cock already twitching just at the thought of being inside you.

“I’ve never done it, from behind.” Your voice was quiet and unsure, you’d clearly never been asked how you wanted it and now you felt like there was a right and wrong answer. However with the way Joel immediately grabbed you, flipping you over with a squeeze so that you laid on your stomach, you realised that maybe you picked right.

“Now,” he straddled your thighs, grabbing and kneading at your bare ass, spreading your cheeks and planting his cock between them, “it’s been a while,” he rocked his hips gently, watching the way his cock pushed through your plush cheeks, getting lost, “I ain’t tryin’ to make excuses-”

“Please, please, I’m begging you,” you pleaded, arching your back and pushing against him, his balls dragging against your pussy causing him to shiver, all the hairs on his body standing on end, “I want you to give it to me again, Joel, it’s aching again, I’m aching for you.” You tried your best to crane your neck, so that you could make eye contact with him and he took it as an opportunity to grab you by the neck.

“M’gonna give it to you, baby girl, you ready?” His lips brushed against your forehead before resting there, so you whimpered in response before he plunged into you.

He stretched you out in a way that burned. It felt like you were being torn and you evidently winced and hissed and the intrusion of his cock. He, on the other hand, had just entered into heaven. The way you wrapped around him so tight and perfectly had him choking on his low groans, basking in watching your pussy so delightfully swallow every inch he had to give you before stopping at the base. You needed a moment, clenching your fists and squeezed your eyes shut, you needed to adjust to having something of his sheer size inside you. He needed a moment because he was sure if he made any sudden movements, he was going to spill inside you immediately, before he had even had a chance to get you remotely close to your climax. “god, you’re so fucking tight, she’s takin’ me real good.” He kissed at your forehead again, trying to distract himself from the way you were squirming. You knot in your stomach was growing again and the pain was soon numbed out, awaiting his movement.

“you’re so big.” whining, you fluttered your lashes, splaying your hands out in front of you, preparing yourself.

“I know, baby, you ready for it?”

“Yes,” You were practically gasping for air, making puppy dog eyes at him through your eyelashes, watching him twitch, “please, Joel, please.”

Against his better judgement, Joel began thrusting his hips slowly into you, watching your expression twist, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide open. You mewled and whimpered, knuckles turning white as you gripped at nothing. You looked pathetic beneath him, surrendering yourself entirely. And he ate it all up. He was enthralled, blinking down at you, watching tears form at the corners of your eyes, your freckles hiding beneath a red flush. This was heaven.

He rocked into you fervently, pushing in and pulling out moans. His grip around your neck kept your face in constant view, his breath fanning over your skin. “You look so beautiful, baby, taking this cock.” He grunted out between the snap of his hips, reaching deeper inside you than anyone had before, your soft velvet walls wrapping around him, clenching and contracting to accommodate his girth. Your lips couldn’t form words, stuck open wide, panting, your tongue resting on your bottom lip.

You felt so full, feeling him in your belly, grazing your cervix with ease. His free hand traveled from your hips, holding you safe and firm, to squeeze a handful of your ass, painfully hard. It caused you to yelp, pushing your hips into him, making his thrust halt for a moment as he shuddered. He was trying desperately hard to not cum embarrassingly fast. He felt like a teenager again, trying to divert his thoughts to anything other than the writhing body he was currently impaling with his throbbing cock. But the way you were pushing back on him, begging him constantly with that drunken look in your eyes, like he was the only other person on the planet. He couldn’t ignore it, no matter how much he though about what needed fixing at home, all his thoughts returned to you.

“More.” You choked out. And he raised an eyebrow.

“More? More what, sweetheart?” He punctuated by giving a hard thrust that left you shaking.

“Harder, I want it- Oh fuck!” Interrupting you, he took advantage and began ramming into you mid sentence, taking immense pleasure in watching you become undone around his relentless torment.

He let go of your ass and your neck, picking you up by your hips so you were on your knees, check pressed against the ground. There was an excited smile on your face, cheeks aching and hot. “You smilin’ girl? Yeah? You like it like this, feel good don’t it?” Whilst you couldn’t see his face, you could hear he was groaning through a grin too, keeping your legs steady so he could quicken his already brutal pace.

There it was again, that growing pit, the flush of electricity that erupted into your body. Your grin only grew, whining and spreading your legs out further for him, allowing him to go deeper and deeper with each groundbreaking thrust. Your legs were trembling, your knees aching and surely bruised up. But it was the last thing on your mind, all you could think about was the impending surge of pleasure. “Hell, look at you,” Joel growled, swallowing hard, “You fuckin’ love it.”

“I… Do, don’t stop!” You spread your legs further, thighs falling downwards, ignoring the burning sensation at the slightly uncomfortable position that you knew you’d regret tomorrow.

“Oh darlin, I ain’t gonna be able t’hold on much longer, not wit’you spreading your fuckin’ legs like this f’me.” Joel was holding on for dear life, becoming desperate. He knew you were close, he could feel it in the way your cunt was becoming tighter and tighter, dripping with arousal, slick running down his thighs getting lost in the hair.

“Mmmhmm, I want it daddy, fill me up.” Your words were slurred and he tensed at what you’d called him.

“Yeah, baby girl, you want daddy deep in you?” He leant over you, palm pressing against the side of your head, pushing you further against the wooden floorboards. His thumb fell just above your mouth, sitting on your lips until you wrapped them around it, sucking gently. You nodded, your body beginning to tense and tremble.

This was shameful stuff, Joel thought, stuff people go to confession and repent for. Here you were, on your hands and knees, offering yourself up, sucking his thumb, fluttering your lashes. You were either the most beautiful angel or a demon sent to lead him astray. Either way, he was relishing in it.

“Come on baby, I know it’s-”

“Oh, Daddy, I'm gonna- it’s coming, I’m-” Your frantic moans came out tumbling over his, interrupting him, arching your back up, your entire body clenching at you were engulfed in pleasure again. “Oh, Joel, Oh my god, you, f, f, feel, so good!” You didn’t care about your volume, you just cared about how amazing it felt to have Joels cock deep inside you as you twitched and writhed around him. You pushed your ass against him, trying to get him as far in you as possible.

Joel couldn’t stop himself, spilling into you will a prolonged broken groan, one hand grabbing a fistful of your hair, the other grasping on your hip, his head snapped back. He could’ve been having a heart attack, the way his heart was pounding in his ears. You could feel him pumping inside of you, each twitch and rope painting your insides.

“Oh, sweet girl, Christ!” He panted out of breath, riding out his high, jutting his hips forward into you as you breathed heavily beneath him, sensitive to every one of his movements. “You’re gon’ be the death of me, girl.” He fell over you, his weight pinning you down, pulling his softening cock out of you.

He rolled to the side of you, you remained laying on your front, thighs trembling, aching too much to move positions. “You still in there?” He raised his eyebrows, brushing hair behind your ear as you look up at him in adoration, big eyes filled with want. A giggle left your lips as his chest rose and fell in deep loud breaths. “What’re you laughin’ at?”

“Is it like that every time?” Coarse, your voice creeped out, wiggling closer to him as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his calloused hand.

“No,” sighing, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling your tired frame into his, immediately soaking in the warmth, “that was… somethin' else.”

You were quick to fall asleep in his arms. You knew you were safe, your body aching and weak. You were engulfed in his scent, head resting nestled into his armpit, soaking it all in.

He’d opened a can of worms, swarmed by thoughts he’d tried to suppress, watching you curl up next to him. He could not shake the image of you coming undone around him, surrendering so easily to him. It was so much better than he’d ever imagined, but now he’d acted on these thoughts, he could no longer suppress them. He couldn’t avoid you, the only act of indulgence he’d allowed himself was watching you through your window. Now he hadn’t just indulged himself, he’d submerged himself in you. He was ashamed. He should’ve known better.

______________________________________________________________

“Get up, gotta head back.”

You were awoken, your shirt being thrown at you, crumpled over your chest. Your eyes took a moment to adjust, sunlight seeping into the cabin. You blinked a few times, a shadow breaking up the sunlight. Your body ached like you’d ran a marathon. “Hey, Kid, wake up.” His stern abrupt voice, causing you to pout, instinctively bringing your shirt up to cover your breasts.

Joel was standing opposite you, fully dressed, bag on his shoulders, towering over you with a fed up expression painting his features. You blinked up at him a few times, frowning, confused. “Do I gotta say it a third time? Jesus Christ.” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head, turning his back on you to walk out the cabin.

A tsunami wave of embarrassment and shame flooded through you. Feeling your cheeks turning hot and purple, scrambling to get your bra and clothes on, eyes scanning the floor for your belongings. You pulled your socks on, searching for your panties. They’d seemingly disappeared. But due to Joels passive aggressive sighs outside, you decided they were a lost cause. Pulling your jeans up your legs without them. You felt dirty, your inner thighs still sticky and wet, his cum smeared across them. His coldness was causing you to do flips in your tummy. When you finally met him outside the cabin, he muttered something else under his breath and then began walking without a word.

You kept your eyes down to the ground, tail between your legs, walking in silence. You felt the tension in between you two. Like you’d upset him. Like you’d done something wrong. He didn’t dare look back at you, ignoring every noise you made, cursing every twig you stepped on reminding him you were there. And reminding him where he’d been. Reminding him of the touch of your soft skin, how small you felt in his arms, the way you were whimpering his name begging for him. He couldn’t bare it, knowing you were behind him, eyes distraught, the carpet swept from beneath you.

Your mind was elsewhere, trying to figure out where you’d messed up, what it was that was wrong. Everything had felt so right, so so good. What was it that you did that had angered him so much. You didn’t notice the branch within the leaves in front of you and you tripped slightly, falling forward, only to be caught by Joels strong hands. “Would you just watch what you’re doin’?” He bit, lip twitching, staring you directly in the eye, hands gripping onto your arms for a moment too long.

“Did I do something wrong?” You swallowed, watching him turn around on his heel, shaking his head again, like you were asking something outlandish, “I mean.. was I… was I not very good? I know I don’t have much experience but-” You were fumbling over your words again, insecurity threatening to spill from your eyes, Joel freezing in front of you.

“What we did was wrong, no matter how good it felt, for both of us.” He spoke stiff, refusing to look you in the eye when he turned around, refusing to acknowledge that you were holding back tears. “It was wrong.” He lifted his hands in front of him, as if to signal “enough”.

“But-”

“No, no, thats it end of.”

“You’re not even letting me-”

“Listen to me,” he stepped forward, now staring too directly in the eyes, inches from your face, steadying his breathing, “Last night should not have happened, It will not happen again and I’d appreciate you keepin’ it to yourself, it was a mistake, a lapse in judgment.”

His words stung. Like falling on your palms on gravel as a kid. Quick and lingering. You tried your best to hid your quivering bottom lip. You didn’t know how to respond, you didn’t know if he’d even let you. You decided against it. He’d humiliated you enough, you weren’t about to cry in front of him too.

You carried on the rest of the walk in silence. Like nothing had changed. Like you couldn’t still feel him dripping out of you. Like the ghost of your taste wasn’t still dancing on his tongue, on his lips. He could smell you all over him.

When you finally got back to town, you parted ways, the awkwardness radiating off of the both of you as you were welcomed back. He made you feel sick. It was all so embarrassing. The way he wouldn’t even look at you. But why would he? You were just one great big lapse in judgment. The return to your small cabin was lonely and you had barely gotten to your front door when you finally allowed yourself to cry. You allowed yourself one glance back at Joel, who was entering his own home, already staring you down. You sobbed a little, shooting him a cold glare before slamming you door shut behind you, sliding down it with your hands in your hair.

Joel felt guilt rotting inside him.

He entered his home alone, it was cold and he could still smell you all over him.

He took one hard step at a time, ascending his stairs, his bed creaking beneath his weight as he sat down, sighing.

He reached into his back pocket, pulling out the white cotton panties, the little satin ribbon on the front crumbled and slightly undone. Lifting them to his nose, he inhaled, your scent filling his nostrils and his brain. The image of you playing on repeat behind his eyelids, like an old movie on a projector.

And with one hand holding your panties to his nose and mouth, eyes fixated on your bathroom window, he let his other one fist his cock out of his jeans, stroking it slowly.

Back to square one.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedrohub #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #last of us #the last of us

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eyeheartboobiez · 1 year ago

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𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐜𝐬

-> warnings: smut mention

-> a/n: are you able to pick up other people’s tabs at a bar? what even is a tab? idk. here are some unnecessarily long bruce hcs that i wrote at 1am

(edit): fun fact, this was the first set of sugar daddy!bruce hcs i wrote but ended up “scrapping” bcs i didn’t like the direction it was going in👨🏿‍🦯

• honestly, you don't know how either of you ended up in this situation

The drink in your hands was starting to sweat.

One of your professors had given you the chance to attend a charity event of one of his more high society friends. Of course, while you were beyond grateful, you can easily say you'd much rather be at home binging your favorite series.

So here you were, sipping on your fourth glass of the evening without a single clue how you were gonna pay for them all. Your social battery was beyond drained as you were sitting by yourself at the bar, just about ready to call it a night.

All the other socialites in the room, however, seemed to be having a blast talking about politics or stocks or whatever it was that rich people talk about. Well, all except for one.

• on one hand hand there was you, a broke college student just looking for someone to pay for her drinks

• on the other, there was the rich billionaire who was searching for someone worthy enough of his time

• bruce had noticed you sitting alone at the bar, lightly sipping on an amethyst martini:

He takes the night off from his batman duties, and this is how he decides to spend it?

Bruce couldn't wrap his head around it either. Alfred was actually the one who talked him into going to this party. With him being one of the top donors, he was basically obligated to attend at this point.

While all the other party goers were standing around talking amongst each other, the billionaire found himself off in the corner, eyes sweeping the room to find all its nearest exits. In the midst off his mental scan though, he saw you.

The dress you wore was simple, yet it somehow made you glow against the warm lighting. Despite all the commotion in the room, your presence alone practically drew him in like a moth to a flame.

If Bruce was gonna be here all night, he might as well make things interesting, right?

• you hadn't noticed him approaching until the chair next to you was being pulled out

• you were hesitant to open up to him at first

• because why in the hell was one of the richest men in gotham talking to you of all people

• but after a while, the two of you practically sprung into conversation, talking about almost anything and everything.

• after talking for what felt like hours he asks you:

"Would you perhaps like to continue this conversation back at my place?"

• with the way his index finger was gently caressing your hand, you just knew that if you left with this man, you both would be doing anything but talking

• while you usually weren't one to sleep with strangers, one night of some fun couldn’t hurt, right?

• plus you still needed to get these drinks paid for

"Only if you offer to pick up my tab."

• one thing led to another and you found yourself lying in one of the biggest beds of your life, getting fucked by one of the richest men in the world

• you and bruce ended up spending a very long night together. by the end of it, you both were practically comatose from it all

• the next morning, you woke up fully prepared to sign some sort of NDA and head on home

• or at least you were. until you felt the hot trail of kisses leading down from your neck

"Last night was incredible," The billionaire grumbled, the low murmur of his morning voice making butterflies appear in your stomach. Open-mouthed kisses continued to trail down the valley of your breasts, "I don't suppose you wanna do that again sometime, hm?"

• you almost had to pinch yourself to make sure you weren't still dreaming

• it was over breakfast that you both went over some of the necessary details neither of you seemed to bring up the night before

• you told him things about yourself like your age and how you typically didn't go home with strangers. you also ended up confessing how you were only at the same event as him because one of your professors gave you an invitation

• which then led to him asking what your major was

• …which led him to ask what university you attended

• ….which then led to him offering to pay off your college expenses

• like hold on. pause for a second.

• did he fr just offer to pay your whole tuition?

• was the pussy that good???

• before you could think too much about it, bruce made sure to let you know that this would be a small dip into a very big bucket for him

• all he asked for in return was to spend another night with you

• of course he didn't expect you to come to a decision right away, so after exchanging numbers, he drove you home to think it over

• to be honest though, it didn't take you very long to consider things

• i mean you were practically swimming in student loans over here

• immediately after you called to give him a confirmation, your phone pinged with a notification

bruce w. sent over $860.

‘buy something nice for yourself and meet me tomorrow at seven. don’t worry about transportation, i’ll arrange a car for you.’

• and after that the rest was history

• being bruce’s sugar baby was honestly one of the best decisions you’ve ever made

• after your second night with him was when he wanted to make things official between you two

• “official” pretty much meant that he would volunteer to be your personal bank as long as you continued to keep him company

• even though it all sounded great, you weren’t stupid.

• if you were to really go through with this you would need it written on paper. you wanted this shit documented

• so that’s exactly what he did

• by the end of the day, bruce had his lawyers make a drafted copy of the terms and conditions your so called “relationship” would entail (a draft that you were free to make changes to, of course)

• now that everything had been officially set in stone, most days you found yourself either attending charity events or maxing out his company credit card

• now if only bruce could tell you about a certain night job of his…

-> a/n: when i tell you these have been in my drafts for a MINUTE😭 i think imma make a fic about how their relationship develops but first i wanna write the next part to my jason smau series

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tamurilofrivendell · 1 year ago

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Crush | Legolas x Reader

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Summary: Reader is a royal guard who Legolas becomes enamoured by.

Word count: 2,990

requested by anonymous (happy (late, I'm sorry) birthday, I hope this was okay for you)

tags: @coopsgirl @birbixo0912 @desert-fern @ancient-rime @silverose365 @lady-of-imladris @asianbutnotjapanese @deadlymistletoe @thewulf @whiteladyofithilien

It was a recent change, you becoming a royal guard. Once an opening had become available, of course, you lunged at it. You had wanted for a very long time to attain such a position and thankfully your ambition and your skills had not gone unnoticed. You got what you wanted and soon settled straight into the role. Some days your duties seemed endless but you felt like you were protecting your home, helping to defend the realm you so loved, and it made even the most exhausting of days worth it.

This particular day, you were following the king himself around as he went from place to place tending to various different things. Usually Feren himself would have accompanied Thranduil, however he was away from the halls at a nearby settlement and you had been plucked from the rest to be the guard who went with the king this day and you did not think you could be more excited and more eager to not mess up.

It was a long afternoon.

You had gone to a meeting about various boring politics which you had zoned in and out of as you stood at the back of the room behind his chair. Then he'd trailed around various rooms checking on the armoury, the production of various things you didn't expect him to care much about such as cloth and flour, and also to the cellar to check on the wine stores. Now, you were walking away from the orchard, where the Orchardist had given a very unnecessarily in-depth talk about his apples and the large yield of the trees. He'd seemed exceptionally proud, which was nice, but he talked a lot longer than was necessary when it came to something like fruit.

"I think... he certainly knows an awful lot about apples." Thranduil mused as the two of you stepped onto the path. "And now I, too, certainly know an awful lot more than necessary about apples."

You stifled a laugh, not wishing to be rude but truthfully you had been bored stiff the entire time. Thranduil had not looked anything but attentive while you'd been fighting to keep your expression neutral, but he just had more practice than you did.

"It is good that our stores will not run low any time soon." You replied as diplomatically as you could, though the king caught the deeper feelings in your tone and he smirked a little in amusement.

"Indeed." It was, after all, a good thing that the trees produced such large quantities. Not just the apples, either. It meant their crop continued to thrive and they would not starve if he needed to close the gates for any reason. Not that he anticipated anything. "Anyway, I think I will be alright to return to my chambers alone, thank you. You may go."

"As you wish." You nodded, falling out of step with him and watching as he swept away and disappeared round the corner back into the part of the building that led to his private quarters. You stayed where you were for a moment, wondering what to do now, and then you turned around to head back to your own chamber. Perhaps a bath would be a nice idea after such a long day of trudging around and being on your feet.

As you turned, your eyes fell upon another figure a short distance away, sitting underneath a large tree in the courtyard with a bow between his fingers. Prince Legolas seemed to have already been looking at you when your gaze was drawn to him and you blinked, a bit taken aback by that fact. A beat passed and then you stepped towards his direction but his eyes immediately dropped to the bow in his hand as he went back to cleaning it, acting as if you no longer existed. Oh. He must not need anything after all then. You'd thought maybe he recognised your role when you'd been walking with his father but... no matter, you decided, turning away and heading away back down the path.

What you didn't see was the way Legolas' eyes flickered back up to watch your retreat. He had been sitting out here for about an hour now, taking his time while cleaning his bow and enjoying the mild weather. The bow had once belonged to his mother and he took more care of it than he did with his others. He had noticed his father coming through but he had not wanted to draw much attention to himself, the older elf had looked quite worn out. It wouldn't show to anyone else of course but to Legolas it was clear. He almost hadn't paid you any attention at first. When he had, he'd done a double take.

She's beautiful, was his immediate thought, something which brought a faint blush to his cheeks and so he was glad that nobody was paying too much attention to him. You'd made his father smile too, he noticed that, which only raised your merit in his eyes. After a few moments, when you were out of sight, he looked down again and went back to his bow. Interesting.

Three days later, you were one of the guards standing somewhere below the throne, keeping a careful watch while the king went through the rigmarole of people coming before him in audience to ask him for things or bring forward suggestions for his court and the realm.

Legolas walked into the room just as the last elf was escorted out. He strode right up the walkway towards the throne, intent on reaching his father to give him an appraisal of the forest beyond. For a brief moment, his eyes flickered towards where you stood... and he paused, coming to a stop altogether.

"Legolas." His father's deep voice shook him from his trance after a moment and he blinked up at Thranduil, who was looking down at him with a raised eyebrow.

Legolas shook his head, clearing his throat as he forced one foot in front of the other. "Ah... yes." He muttered, willing his cheeks not to flush, which luckily they did not. He launched into a rundown of what he'd seen in the forest and you could only stare at him for a long moment, confused at the prince's unusual behaviour, before you turned your eyes away, focusing them on the entrance to the throne room.

He was gone again quicker than you would have imagined but he stole another glance over his shoulder on his way out, eyes settling on you once again, just for the briefest of seconds, before he disappeared.

As you stared at the space in the doorway he had just occupied, you heard the sound of a snort being smothered from somewhere behind you. Turning, you looked up at Thranduil, who cleared his throat and looked stoic as ever but something about him almost looked amused. A glint in his eyes maybe?

"That is all, you may go." Was all he said as he rose, descended the steps and vanished just as his son had, leaving you staring after him as well. After standing frozen for a long moment, blinking in confusion, you left the room and decided to just put it from your mind. You must be imagining things.

The next two weeks passed in much the same manner. Legolas kept seeing you around everywhere he went as if you were haunting him. It was strange, he thought, that he'd gone so long without a glimpse and then suddenly you were everywhere. He thought he must just be an idiot. Overthinking it. You had not shown any interest and he felt like a bit of a weasel staring at you the way he had. Besides, he did not have time for anything, did he? He had things to do. He was a prince of the realm and he had duties...

...however, his mind did not let him rest. It tormented him with the image of you and eventually he decided he had to just say something, get it out of his system, and then he could go back to the way things were.

So, a day later, he approached you.

You had the day off and you were still trying to figure out how to spend it. You didn't feel like reading, you didn't feel like training, you didn't feel like doing much of anything but you were so bored that wandering around in the halls was driving you a bit mad.

"You look lost." Came a voice from behind and when you turned you saw Legolas standing there. You were startled, not answering immediately because it was the first time he had ever actually spoken to you.

"Mh?" Was your first very clever response, which made your face redden and, in turn, made him laugh. "I mean... uh..." You continued, scrambling to form actual words. He was smiling at you, kindly yes, but it was clear he was amused.

After another moment you laughed as well and the tension seemed to evaporate. "I am bored." You admitted.

"I see." Legolas chuckled, nodding as he turned his head to look around. The realm was quiet today, the halls barely occupied. "I was actually going to go into the forest." He turned his gaze back to your face, telling himself not to get lost in your eyes. "If... if you wanted to join me."

You couldn't be certain but it seemed as if the prince had stammered over his words a little. As much as you had not spent a lot of time around him, from what you'd seen that seemed unusual. A beat passed and then you smiled, nodding. "I'd like that."

His small, almost bashful, smile was enough to send your heart fluttering in your chest as he turned and gestured with his head for you to follow.

The forest was quiet too but in a different way than the halls. There it had felt a little suffocating in your boredom. Here it was peaceful. The change of scenery seemed to do your mind some good... though perhaps the company had something to do with it too.

Legolas was funny, you came to realise, once you got past his quiet, sometimes almost shy-seeming demeanour. He was charming... handsome, but that was not something you only found out today, no you'd thought that for quite some time already.

He took you on a mini tour of his favourite spots and then you both found yourself sitting up in a tree above a small pond, just talking. Getting to know Legolas made your heart stir in a way you would not have imagined. There was something about him, the way he spoke, the way he looked at you, the intent look on his face as he listened to your responses as if he truly did not want to miss a single word, that had your stomach in knots and your eyes glued to his face.

You met him again the next day, and then the next. It became routine that the two of you would spend time together during time off from your duties. You even started sparring together in the training grounds and Legolas seemed impressed by your skill with a blade. You went on walks through the forest. You talked about your lives. He became such a close friend that it was a wonder to you that you had ever not had him in your life in this capacity at all.

One day, while you were both sitting by the river in the afternoon sun, you noticed that he was a little quieter than normal.

"Is everything alright?" You asked him outright after a moment of studying the way the tiniest bit of tension had crept onto his brow where usually there was nothing.

Legolas blinked, turning his eyes from the flowing water to your face. "Hm?" He asked, as if he had not even heard you.

"I asked if everything was alright." You repeated.

Legolas shook his head in response, contradicting himself when his response was a simple: "Oh. Yes, everything is fine."

You did not buy it. A beat passed in which you just stared at him with a raised eyebrow and he shifted under your gaze before letting out a sigh.

"Alright, I confess. There is... something on my mind." He said.

"What?" You asked, watching him glance down at the stick in his hands that he had been fiddling with for a time now. "Legolas." You prompted after a moment.

Legolas swallowed, as if nervous, though you could not understand why he would need to be that way around you. Until he spoke, of course.

"I have been thinking a lot lately." He said, his voice soft, gaze on the river before he gathered the courage to turn his face to look at you once more. "About us."

Us. It was like a magic word that sent a shiver through you as you stared back at him. Did he mean... as in...? You swallowed now, feeling your own nerves rise. "Us?" You asked in a way that urged him to continue.

Legolas nodded slowly, blue eyes studying your face closely. "Yes. Us." He repeated, wishing he had planned out what he wished to say in his mind, but of course he had not planned this moment with you today at all. He had not intended for his thoughts to become visible. "You see, I..." He glanced down, breaking the stick in half before discarding the pieces and looking back up at your face, the one that had plagued his thoughts since that first day he saw you with his father.

In that moment, he decided to just say it. All of it. Just tell you because somehow keeping it inside unspoken was worse. "I like you very much. As... more than just a friend."

The world almost seemed as if it stopped for a moment. A second where everything just froze, your gaze locked with his. Was this actually happening or were you still asleep and this was all some trick of the mind? "What?" Not what you'd wanted to say but it's what came out of your mouth.

Legolas, unfortunately, took this as a bad sign and he looked away again, clearing his throat as a slight crease returned to the space between his eyebrows. "I... I just mean that..." He went quiet.

"No, no..." You said quickly, shaking your head. Damn it! "I meant... well, since when?" You had not dared to think that the prince's interest in you would be anything but platonic. He had never shown any interest in you beyond that!

However, as you thought about it now, yes he had. In the way he spent almost all of his free time with you. The way he listened so closely and intently to every single thing you said, hanging off your every word. The smiles, the lingering glances. The time he'd picked a flower from the forest floor and tucked it behind your ear without saying a thing but the look in his eyes that you'd ignored had said more than any words ever could.

You'd turned a blind eye.

"I like you very much too." You managed. "More than a friend."

Legolas blinked in a way that made him look completely stunned, quickly turning his face back so he could look at you. He was quiet for a moment and then a smile started to spread over his face. "You do?"

You nodded quickly, desperate now not to make him think any longer that you had absolutely no interest. "Of course, yes, I... I was just surprised to hear you say it, I didn't think-"

"I thought I was quite obvious." Legolas half mumbled, chuckling as his cheeks turned slightly pink.

"Oh, you were." You joked, laughing softly. "But... I think... I was not paying attention."

A small, comfortable silence passed between the pair of you as Legolas kept his eyes on your face and you forced yourself not to look away either. His smile widened.

"Then..." He continued after a moment. "If I asked if I could... court you-"

"Yes!" The word flew from your mouth before he could fully finish his sentence, causing colour to creep into your own cheeks as you watched him chuckle with amusement at your eagerness.

"In that case," the prince said, standing up and offering you his hand to help you to your feet. "Tomorrow, we begin properly." His minds eye filled with images of a picnic in a beautiful spot, of getting to know you better than he already did but this time in the capacity he most wished... maybe a kiss, but he would not get too ahead of himself.

"But I have duties." You said, taking his hand and allowing him to pull you up onto your feet, your heart racing at the contact as it always seemed to do, an extra thrill of excitement in it this time. "I stand the throne room tomorrow."

Legolas paused and then waved his hand, turning to lead you back down the trail towards the halls once more. "Leave that to me." He was determined to spend the whole day with you, to begin this courtship properly.

After some prodding as to why Legolas wished to wrangle a day off throne room duty for one of the guards, Thranduil found out about the change in the relationship between you and his son. However, he did not look the slightest bit surprised as he poured some more wine into his cup with a barely concealed smirk.

"I did think it would have taken you a little less time to ask her, my son... but better late than never." Was all he said while Legolas did his utmost not to shift in uncomfortable embarrassment under the amused glint in his father's eye.

#legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas fanfic #lotr x reader #the hobbit x reader #lotr fanfic #hobbit fanfic #ugh i'm a little out of practice with legolas and he didn't fully cooperate like I wanted him to #but if I fiddle anymore with this I'll delete it lmao

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fanficlolsblog · 4 months ago

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THE CO-STAR PART 2

back to my main masterlist

pairing: actress!reader x jenna ortega

summary: the day after a tense kiss scene, Y/N and jenna ortega face awkwardness on set. jenna's avoidance creates discomfort, but a heartfelt conversation helps clarify the situation. jenna reveals she's dealing with personal issues, easing the tension and allowing them to start rebuilding their professional rapport.

warnings: personal and professional tension, emotion discomfort and awkwardness, strained relationships and personal issues which are not implied.

a/n: i posted this on wattpad to, i would appreciate it if you would go check it out :) loversxoxoxo.

part 1

The second day of filming after that infamous kiss scene was a tightrope walk between professionalism and personal tension. I arrived at the set, my stomach a knot of nerves, hoping the awkwardness from yesterday would fade into a distant memory. Instead, the atmosphere was thicker with discomfort than I'd anticipated.

Jenna had been distant since that intense scene. While we managed to exchange polite nods and forced smiles, every interaction felt strained, like an unspoken barrier had been erected between us. I caught her glancing my way occasionally, but whenever our eyes met, she quickly looked away, as if afraid to reveal whatever thoughts were tumbling through her head.

The day began with a quick wardrobe check. I tried to ignore the prickle of tension as Jenna walked in, her movements precise and focused. I offered a friendly “Good morning,” but she responded with a curt nod, her eyes already focused on the script in her hands. I followed suit, trying to bury my anxiety in the lines and stage directions.

Our first scene of the day was an emotionally charged dialogue. As Jenna and I took our positions, I couldn’t help but notice how she maintained a physical distance, avoiding any inadvertent touches or brushes of our shoulders. It was odd, given that we had shared such an intimate scene yesterday, and now even the smallest gesture seemed to be scrutinized.

The scene played out with an almost mechanical efficiency, the rawness of yesterday replaced by a clinical detachment. After the director called “cut,” I tried to make small talk, hoping to bridge the gap that had formed. “That was good, right?” I asked, offering a half-hearted smile.

Jenna’s response was a brief, “Yeah. It was fine.” She didn’t elaborate, and the silence that followed felt heavier than the lines we had just delivered. I wanted to ask her if everything was okay, but the look she gave me—half guarded, half apprehensive—made me hesitate.

Later, during a break, I watched as Jenna mingled with the rest of the cast and crew. She seemed engaged and animated with them, but when it came to me, she was avoidant. I understood, of course, that the kiss scene had been charged, but I didn’t expect the fallout to be so personal.

As the day wore on, I found myself increasingly disheartened. Jenna’s avoidance left me feeling exposed and uncertain, wondering if I had somehow crossed a line or made a mistake. The directors and crew members went about their work with the usual efficiency, but I was preoccupied with Jenna’s discomfort and my own lingering embarrassment.

During one particularly long stretch of waiting, I sat alone in the green room, trying to focus on my lines. Jenna walked in, and for a moment, our eyes met. I saw a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—before she turned her gaze away and took a seat on the opposite side of the room.

I took a deep breath and decided to approach her. It was a risk, but I needed to clear the air. “Jenna, can we talk for a minute?” I asked softly.

She looked up, her expression a mixture of surprise and wariness. “Sure,” she replied quietly.

I sat down across from her, the distance between us palpable. “I know things have been a bit tense since yesterday, and I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay. I mean, if I did something—”

“No, it’s not you,” Jenna interrupted, her voice steady but tinged with fatigue. “It’s just... I’ve been dealing with some stuff on my own. It’s been hard to separate personal feelings from work lately.”

I nodded, trying to process her words. “I get that. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Our scenes are really important to me, and I want them to be as authentic as possible.”

Jenna looked relieved, though still uncertain. “I appreciate that. I do. It’s just been... a lot. I’ll try to do better. It’s not about you.”

We shared a tentative smile, the unspoken understanding bringing a measure of relief. It wasn’t a complete resolution, but it was a start. As we returned to our respective places on set, the atmosphere felt a little lighter. We still had a long way to go, but acknowledging the tension was the first step towards mending our strained relationship.

As the day progressed, Jenna and I managed to find a new rhythm. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress. The scenes felt less mechanical and more genuine, and I clung to that as a sign that we might, with time, navigate this awkward period and find our way back to a more comfortable place. Even be somewhat friends…

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #imagine #gxg #wlw #spotify #fanfic

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entitledgirly · 13 days ago

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Let them talk - Cregan Stark x Reader

(A/N Sorry, English is not my first language.)

TW: Use of the f-word. // Nādrēsy means bastard in Valyrian.

It had not been a week since the young princess was in Winterfell and the rumors that followed her as a child in the Red Keep now also accompanied her moons away from there.

The gossip began as whispers behind closed doors, but those whispers became light conversation and no longer happened in the privacy but were discussed in the hallways as if they were about the weather.

The young woman did not care about the bitter words, they did not affect her too much, she knew that they were empty words (even if they were true) with hardly any evidence. But when those words began to be directed towards her little brothers all her animosity turned into rage. How dare they speak ill of the princes of Dragonstone around their damn older sister?

The worst part was the looks that the young woman received from the palace service, dirty looks full of judgment. But their comments and words towards her were nothing more than polite, although she could read between the lines and felt them loaded with venom. And she thought that vipers lived in Dorne and couldn't handle the northern cold well. Who would have thought there were northern vipers.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror of the room she had been given a week ago, when she arrived at Winterfell, she felt uneasy about the event she was about to attend. A feast in her honor. An honor that the gossips of the palace did not consider her to possess. She would have rejected the invitation had it not been for the fact that Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the fucking North, had asked her himself. She couldn't not go to the celebration after being invited by the supreme Lord of the North, and even less so when her mother needed his help and army in the upcoming war.

The maid who was combing her hair smiled at her through the reflection of the mirror. When she finished braiding the brunette's hair, she politely stepped away and extended her hand to help the young woman get up from the chair. Y/n gently accepted the help of the maiden, her being one of the few people who had expressed genuine kindness towards her. She had decided not to dress too extravagantly, not as she would have dressed at home, to maintain the austerity with which northerners seemed so comfortable. A dark purple with lilac accessories along the line of her cleavage that complemented her eyes, all accompanied by a cloak that had been given to her by Lord Stark himself when he saw that she did not have an appropriate one for the cold summer that existed in Winterfell.

Three soft knocks came from the door, the young woman knew it was Cregan because he had told her that he would accompany her to the dining room and thus begin the feast. She approached the door and opened it, meeting the tall, stoic figure of Cregan, who scanned her from head to toe in return. Her eyes remained longer than necessary on the skin that showed her neckline, she knew that perhaps it was not appropriate to wear a neckline so deep but it was one thing to give up her jewelry and quite another to give up her favorite part of the dresses. Besides, she wanted to test if the man was as stoic as he always seemed or if he had any weakness, and the young princess may not have found a weakness so to speak but she had found something that made the ice-man melt a little. They had known each other almost since they were both born and in all those years Y/n had never seen Cregan look at her like that. It made her nervous. Really nervous.

He offered his arm to the princess and she accepted it, threading it into the older man's. The conversation they shared while walking to the dining room was calm, no heavy topics or deals were discussed, they only talked about the weather and what there might be for dinner. Light conversation.

Once they arrived at the dining room, they were both announced and after greeting some people who were still standing, everyone proceeded to sit down as dinner was going to be served shortly.

Dinner went well, not that she liked Northern food too much, with meats full of nerve and hard or too gelatinous parts, but she opted for the fish dish (from a winter river) that a servant offered her. During the feast, topics of revelry were discussed because the festivals of a fairly important town in the north were approaching, with less than a moon left for its celebration, and the Lord of those lands asked Cregan for his blessing for the celebration. Cregan accepted and the songs that followed were received with less joy, at least from the princess. The issue of legitimacy was brought to the table and with it, the honor of a pure house, with a worthy bloodline. The young woman felt many, if not all, eyes on her.

Now, she thought, not only the service thinks badly of me and my family but also the upper and noble class.

She decided to only pay attention to her dinner and let the rest of the guests have whatever conversations they wanted while she was on the sidelines. But, evidently, it was too much to ask for a quiet and peaceful dinner.

"And you, Princess, what do you think of illegitimacy?" the Lord of Rills asked with a raised eyebrow and a crooked smile.

The brunette gently placed her fork on her plate and with a polite smile responded, "Everyone in their home is free to do what they want as long as it does not affect the interests and common good of the rest."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Of course, My Lord, who could not think that, it is the most fair thing. You cannot always decide how things turn out, much less such gruesome issues, everyone is responsible for their actions and only their actions while the rest of us must be witnesses but not judges. We must never judge.” If she were alone she would have patted herself on the back for that answer.

"Do you think that people in high positions, like us or even more important royalty, can commit such sins?" The man asked her again after taking a sip from his glass.

"I wouldn't call it a sin, it's more of a… mistake. We all make mistakes, we can all make mistakes, we all have made mistakes and we all will make mistakes,” she felt how little by little her patience was running out, but with a somewhat harsh breath she continued her response, "Sometimes we are not able to control the wind and we must learn to live in the storm, My Lord, it does not matter if you are a noble, a king or a peasant"

"Is that what your mother told you, princess? What a fucking joke." the man laughed

“Excuse me?”

“Your mother was the first to make mistakes, marry a faggot and sleep with that— that gentleman, what was his name again? Hedwin Song?" The Lord commented while laughing

Y/n clenched her jaw and swallowed hard at that shameless mockery.

“Harwin Strong. His name was Harwin Strong, I would ask you to be a little more respectful with the dead." The brunette's voice was about to break.

“With your dead father you mean” The princess' eyes widened and her jaw almost touched the ground. At her side Cregan had a very similar reaction, but it was quickly overcome by anger. “Your mather is a whore who bedded that joke of a man and had not only one but four kids— That we know of, of course! And she pretends to have them all on the line to the throne!”

“You know you're talking to one of her children? One of the children of the true queen and heir to the damned iron throne.” Y/n felt her teeth grinding from clenching them.

“Just a bastard” he laughed at her

Cregan went to get up but Y/n put a hand on the man's, urging him to sit down again. She got up from her seat and stood right in front of her chair.

“Perhaps you, My Lord, are right and I am nothing more than a bastard, but still Targaryen blood runs through my veins and I was raised under the manners and customs of the Velaryon, therefore, I will forgive your rude words, which in another time they would have been punished with your own blood. Today I feel generous. A generous bastard.” she said from her elevated position above that of the man in front of her who was looking at her with a shit-eating smile.

"Indeed, princess, you are very generous, just as we have all been with your mother and her adventures."

Y/n grabbed her own cup and, elegantly raising it, decided to say a few last words, "Let me toast for you, My Lord." he nodded still with that ugly smile on his fucking face “I think your sincerity should be rewarded with something that I think is very Targaryen." She waited for everyone in the room to think what could the gift be. "I will send a dragon to your lands and you will see all the bastards who live in your lands burn, although perhaps you should be careful that my dragon does not burn your heir or you will have to put one of your illegitimate children in charge and no one would want that, right?" The man stopped smiling and looked askance at his wife, sitting next to him, who was frowning suspiciously.

“What are you even talking about, fucking bastard?” The man shouted, getting up from his place and facing her, but even with that he wasn’t taller than the princess.

“Oh, you didn’t tell her? You didn’t tell her how the Lord of Rills had an affair with a whore from King’s Landing 7 years ago and had a little boy?” Y/n was not a fan of gossip, but as a royal negotiator she knew that it was sometimes crucial to her dealings. The man stiffened and his jaw almost hit the floor.

“You fucking—“

“And you know other thing, My Lord?” she smiled and lowered her cup “My favorite word is dracarys,” she whispered that last part, “and I’d love to use it near you so you’d burn for all your sins” She drank the entire content of the cup, placed it on the table and left the dining room in an elegant manner, without looking back.

Later that night, while she was keeping Nādrēsy company, Cregan appeared. Y/n did not turn to greet him, she only said "Hello, My Lord."

“What you did before—“ he started but she cut him before he could finish his sentence

“—It was a mistake, yes, and I am deeply sorry but I couldn’t just sit there and wait until him decided to stop insulting my family”

“I know, I came to say that I’m impressed” cregan solemnly admitted

“What?” The young woman turned to look at him, only to find that he was a very short distance away from her.

“One day you will be the best Queen the Seven Kingdoms will have”

“I am not even in line for the throne at the moment, M’Lord”

“I’ll help you kill that fucking usurper” he said

“Wait— Wh—“ she smiled and opened her eyes with glee “That means you’ll help my mother?” she asked excitedly

“Yes, princess, I will help your mother take what it’s hers” Y/n couldn't help herself and hugged Cregan, taking them both by surprise, so she quickly separated. “If I had known you’d have done that in return I would have agreed much sooner"

“Thank you, My lord, thank you, thank you. Mother will be overjoyed the moment she knows of this!”

“Although she can wait to find out, it is late, Princess, you should retire and rest until the morrow, and then send a letter to Her Majesty." Cregan said

“You are right, M’lord”

"I will walk you to your room, My Princess."

"It will be a pleasure…Cregan"

#cregan stark #cregan x reader #hotd cregan #cregan stark x reader #cregan x you #cregan stark x you #cregan stark hotd #winterfell #hotd #got #the lord of winterfell #bastards #dracarys #stark #wolf of the north #warden of the north

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wisecura · 19 days ago

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Sheets

megumi fushiguro x fem-reader

p.1

p.8 ⁭ ( ⸝⸝꩜ ᯅ ꩜⸝⸝;) p.11

p.10

Short summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside your moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy.

AN: can I make it up to you with a slightly longer chapter? please? sorry if this is a bit wordy, but enjoy. the next few chapters will have more momentum and movement. I'm still debating how messed up I want this story to be-- i tend to lean into the dark fic lines. i have a rough outline but....

warnings: this story may cover sensitive and uncomfortable topics. please read at your own risk, violence, lashings, blood, mental breakdowns, yandere, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, mommy kinks, mommy issues, arranged marriages, forced marriages, angst, eventual smut, clan politics, age gap (5 years from meg, and a little over 10 with toji), hints at inappropriate thoughts, toji aint the best dad, mentions of child abuse, slowww build.

thoughts and time changes

Lately, you’ve found yourself growing unexpectedly closer to Toji.

There’s a subtle… warmth in him now that wasn’t there before, though he still remains quiet, never prying—and it all started after you returned from your clan house battered and bruised. When he was surprisingly gentle as he wordlessly patched you up. Yet, despite this newfound…what? fondness?—his frequent absences still plagued the house, never lingering longer than necessary, and more often than not, It was still just you and Megumi.

Megumi returned home for the summers—with that first one standing out as particularly difficult to navigate.

The two of you fell back into that familiar closeness, as if the strained conversation from before had never happened. As if he hadn't ever avoided you in the first place. He never spoke about it, opting to steer clear from any conversation that seemed too personal. Yet, this left you with a lingering uncertainty that seemed to hang over every interaction—never knowing if he might suddenly pull away or how his mood might change—keeping you constantly on edge around him.

And how could you bring it up? No, you’d much rather keep things peaceful—safe, between the two of you.

Despite all of your “concerns”, he slipped back into his touchy, almost affectionate habits—perhaps even more so than before, seemingly fine for the most part. The anger and blatant irritation that once defined him, present in his every interaction with Toji, had given way to a stoic calmness—a neutrality that left you feeling a bit happier. He changed so much, yet felt so familiar in so many ways.

And it was that same composure that made him so hard to read, leaving you endlessly guessing at what he didn't say. You definitely can't say you knew him as well as you did before.

Megumi’s thoughts drifted back to his first year at Jujutsu High.

A plethora of new faces and challenges—meeting his classmates had been, to put it mildly, eventful. There was Gojo Satoru, for one. His arrogant and self-absorbed teacher, who seemed far too amused by his own power and status as the strongest sorcerer. Easily the most skilled, he pushed Megumi all year to become a better version of himself, taking an interest in his background with the Zenin Clan. Annoying as it was, Megumi had to admit—thanks to the blue eyed freak, he understood his potential far better than he ever had before.

Then there was Yuji Itadori. The reckless idiot who, in a moment of pure desperation and absolute insanity, swallowed one of Ryomen Sukuna’s fingers. Even now, Megumi couldn’t shake the guilt. If only he’d been faster, stronger—he might’ve stopped it. Might’ve saved Yuji from a path that tore his life apart.

Yet, despite it all, he became what Megumi would consider a friend. Easily the biggest doof he'd ever met—somehow managing to be both absurdly reckless and irritatingly good-hearted, resembling you in a weird way. Despite knowing him for such a short time, they’d already faced more together than most do in a lifetime.

And meeting Nobara Kugasaki. A girl he initially thought of as only loud and annoying, proved to be more than capable in more ways than one. Somehow, she managed to grow on him, though not without constantly provoking his every last nerve. Even worse than Toji did—a feat he hadn't thought possible.

He’d been careful not to tell you too much, as hard as it was when he saw your face waiting for him the moment he walked through that front door—a sight for sore eyes if there ever was one. His first year had been chaotic, after all, but he hadn’t lied to you… just carefully sidestepped the truths. You poked and prodded for answers, but he remained evasive, selectively sharing only what he thought was safe for someone as precious as you.

Those text messages you sent? He couldn’t bring himself to respond much—not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t stand the thought of making you worry. Your messages were always so short, almost hesitant—yet somehow, impossibly cute. Strangely endearing in a way that made him smile without meaning to. And they had him staring at his phone far longer than he’d ever admit. Long enough for Yuji to notice, of course, grinning as he tried to snatch the phone from Megumi’s hands, teasing him mercilessly about some "mysterious girlfriend."

There was no way in hell he’d let Sukuna’s vessel or his creepy teacher know about you—let alone meet you. Gojo probably had some inkling about your presence in his life—after all, who in Jujutsu society wasn’t at least vaguely aware of an arranged marriage? Especially one involving someone he had only recently discovered was as much of a social pariah as his father. But even if Gojo knew, Megumi was certain it was only through word of mouth alone, and he intended to keep it that way. You were a part of his life that he refused to let this chaos touch.

But they were good people—people who made him question everything he thought he knew about himself. What kind of person did he want to become? What kind of lives did he want to protect? The answer always circled back to you. You were his constant, the standard by which he measured everything. Someone who deserved better, someone who had endured far more than anyone should, and someone he would never stop trying to be worthy of.

He hated the unfairness of it all. Despised it—the sheer injustice of everything you had endured. The crushing expectations your clan had forced upon you, the suffocating marriage to his father, the unrelenting sense of entrapment that shadowed your every step. None of it was right. And the more he learned from Gojo, the angrier he became. A power system designed to crush those deemed weak or inferior, wielded to maintain a twisted hierarchy.

The true difference between you and Megumi was your golden heart—your unwavering care and strength, even in the face of how he knew you were likely treated within your clan. And yet, it was him who was being praised, lauded for qualities he wasn’t sure he deserved credit for.

That first year had taught him plenty. He’d solidified his choices, made his intentions clear, fully understanding what he was stepping into. And Megumi wasn’t just reflecting on these wrongs—he was determined to set them right, no matter the cost.

To him, you didn’t belong to anyone else—least of all his father. You were his. The very thought of you leaving, of slipping beyond his reach, sent a sharp, desperate ache through his chest. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t. He’d free you—not just from the chains of your family or his father, but so you could truly be free. Free to choose him. To stay by his side. Always. Forever. Exactly where you belonged.

All he needed was for you to wait for him. Just a little longer.

After that long, grueling first year at school, Megumi finally got to see your beautiful face again. The way your smile lit up the room, the teasing lilt in your voice as you poked fun at him—it was enough to completely unravel him inside. It quietly reassured him that you still cared, easing the self-consciousness that had lingered since the day he left. Somehow, despite everything, it still felt the same. Like nothing had changed. Like home.

He had to restrain himself when he came back—the overwhelming urge to pull you close, to kiss you like he’d always dreamt of, nearly getting the better of him. But no—he wouldn’t risk it. He couldn’t scare you away, not when having you near again felt like the only thing keeping him steady.

And he didn’t want you worrying about him, either. The probing questions you had? He’d place those on the backburner for now. Maybe even forever. That wasn’t what he needed from you. The thought of seeing your broken expression, your worry etched into every line of your face, was enough to haunt him. You were his light, his solace—and he’d do whatever it took to keep it that way.

Since coming back, Megumi had been careful—deliberate—in carving out his place in your life. Every move he made, every word he spoke, was measured and planned, more so than ever before. Subtly, almost imperceptibly, he had begun reshaping the way you saw him. He dropped small, seemingly innocent comments here and there, gently steering your attention toward him and away from anyone else—especially his father. Subtlety was key, he figured.

Every look, every gesture, was a calculated effort to blur the boundaries between you, to shift the nature of your relationship without you even realizing it. He wasn’t content with simply being part of your life—he was determined to make himself the center of it.

He worked tirelessly.

He regretted pulling away before, but if school had taught him anything, it was to cherish these fleeting moments with you. And each day, it seemed his efforts were paying off. You turned to him more often now, seeking his presence, his reassurance. Every question you asked, every flash of that radiant smile, felt like a step closer to what he wanted—to what he needed.

But it still wasn’t enough. He could tell you didn’t see him the way he saw you, didn’t feel the same pull that consumed him. The way he craved you. It ate away at him, the frustration building with every stolen glance, every moment he found himself aching for more. More than your smile, more than your laughter—he wanted all of you, and the thought of waiting drove him mad. He wanted your everything.

At least your eyes were still on him. At least you still cared. For now, that would have to be enough.

But he wasn’t going to stop. He couldn’t. You’d realize it eventually—you had to. And when you did, he’d be there, ready to claim the place in your heart that was always meant for him.

Before you knew it, Megumi was heading back to school, leaving the house quieter than usual. You’d been bracing yourself for another inevitable summons from your clan, surprised by their unusual silence. It was an uncharacteristic delay, one that left you both relieved and unsettled.

When the message finally arrived, it was as if the air grew heavier around you. Steeling yourself, you went, prepared for the worst, knowing all too well the weight that came with their demands. The possibility for retaliation. No. the absolute for retaliation.

As expected, you were met with the same barrage of insults, the words slicing through you with their usual sharpness. But this time, there were no lashings, no physical punishment to endure. The absence of that particular cruelty felt like a small, bittersweet victory. You carried the weight of their scorn on your way home but couldn’t help feeling a tinge of relief that it hadn’t been worse.

Toji was home that day—a surprise that caught you off guard, especially since you’d texted him earlier about your meeting with the clan. He’d mentioned being tied up on another one of his long-winded trips, at least for the next few days. Yet here he was.

He greeted you with his usual detached demeanor, but his eyes betrayed him, scanning you with unnerving precision—a deliberate, assessing once-over that made your stomach twist. Before you could fully process it, he stepped closer, his presence effortlessly commanding the space between you. Instinctively, you recoiled in surprise, but it didn’t deter him.

Without a word, his hand moved with an almost lazy confidence, slipping under the back of your shirt. The warmth of his palm against your skin sent a jolt through you, heat rushing to your cheeks as the intimacy of the gesture froze you in place. You couldn’t move, caught entirely off guard by his boldness, the casual intensity of his touch leaving you breathless and unsure of what to say.

“Relax,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt coloring his voice. His fingers trailed lightly across your skin, as though searching for something. It didn’t take long for him to pause, clearly not finding what he was looking for. With a quiet chuckle, he pulled his hand back, a smirk curving his lips as his eyes locked onto yours.

“Clean this time, huh? Guess they decided to play nice.”

You couldn’t tell if his words were meant to mock or comfort, but the way his eyes lingered on you left your pulse racing, your breath catching in your throat. He stepped back, the teasing edge in his demeanor—his gaze, softening ever so slightly before he turned away, leaving you rooted to the spot.

The warmth of his palm still clung to your skin, your mind spinning, cheeks burning a vivid red. He’d never been this handsy before, but you knew exactly what he was searching for. What you couldn’t quite grasp was why it seemed to matter to him. Then again, when had Toji ever made sense to you?

You and Megumi had been exchanging texts more frequently than ever. It wasn’t something you had expected, but it started after he seemed to notice how upset his silence left you. The habit picked up when he returned to school for his second year. Whether it was guilt or something else driving his newfound consistency, you couldn’t deny the quiet relief that warmed your chest each time your phone pinged with his name.

Megumi’s birthday came and went, and for the first time, you felt comfortable enough to text him without hesitation, inviting him home for a small celebration. "Bring your new friends!" you added hopefully, sprinkling in an emoji or two to lighten the tone.

His reply came swiftly, cutting through your excitement—though, deep down, you should’ve expected it.

"I can’t. I have a mission coming up. I won’t be able to make it."

The disappointment settled heavily in your chest, but you tried not to push. The memory of his last birthday lingered in your mind, making you wonder if he avoided these moments on purpose. Megumi was never the social type, but you couldn’t help wanting to meet his friends, to see the people he spent so much of his time with. And, if you were honest, you missed him. The house always felt quieter, emptier, without him around.

Later that evening, however, your phone buzzed with an unexpected surprise. A picture.

It was Megumi, his expression as stoic and neutral as ever. Standing beside him was a pink-haired boy who couldn’t have been more of a contrast—wide-eyed, grinning ear to ear, brimming with an energy that practically leapt off the screen. The backdrop was lively, vibrant, a fleeting glimpse into the life Megumi was living far away from you.

You lingered on the photo, your fingers brushing lightly over the screen. For all your probing and insistence on wanting to meet his friends, wanting to see him again, you were surprised he’d sent anything at all. Megumi had always been evasive, but this felt like a compromise—his way of meeting you halfway.

He looked… different. He had been looking different for a while now—since arriving at that school. Once again, as always when you saw him, you couldn’t help but notice how much he’d grown. He wasn’t just older; he was changing. Growing up. Making friends. Breaking free from his shell. Enjoying his life in a way you hadn’t seen before.

For a fleeting moment, pride swelled in your chest—warm and undeniable—only to be chased by a bittersweet ache. He was different, and though you were happy for him, the realization of how little he shared with you felt suffocatingly lonely.

And you couldn't help but feel a little…jealous.

The next summer passes much the same, uneventful but filled with moments of quiet reflection. Your clan has kept their distance physically, but their questions have grown intense, more persistent. They never hit you again, though the threat was always there. Prodding for details you refuse to give, their subtle questions suggesting they have something more planned—something you can’t quite decipher yet.

When Megumi returns, it’s impossible to ignore how much he’s changed toward you. At seventeen now, he towers over you—maybe even reaching Toji’s height. His lean frame is noticeably stronger, and his presence feels heavier, more grounded. He still leans on you in his quiet, familiar way—that same energy that had always lingered between you stubbornly remained. But now, it felt… different. A little harder to ignore. A little harder to navigate.

It catches you off guard sometimes, especially when his eyes seem to linger on you just a bit too long. You’d always shrugged it off—those previous years, Toji’s words, even Megumi’s actions. A crush. That’s all it was. A fleeting, innocent crush. One you never addressed, one you assumed he’d outgrow. He’d figure out soon enough where you stood in his life.

But there was something unspoken in his gaze now, something that left your heart uneasy and your thoughts spiraling. You couldn’t help but think back to his bedroom, the night before he first left for school—the way the air had felt heavy, the unspoken tension hanging there ever since. His promise to protect you. That anger of you dismissing him.

That third summer at home felt different—unsettlingly so. The reminder of how much he’d grown. The uncomfortable realization of how much you’d come to lean on him in return. But most of all, the subtle shift in how he acted around you, how he spoke to you, how his presence seemed to take up more space.

Your relationship with him had already felt off before. What could you even do about it now? Especially when he wasn't going to talk about it first?

Yes, that summer was a strange one.

Megumi was determined to win you over.

He was close—so close. With just one more year left until graduation, his plans were nearly complete. All that remained was you.

But despite the way you turned to him more often, leaned on him in ways that only fueled the fire of his obsession, your affection stubbornly stayed confined within the boundaries of platonic care. And for Megumi, that wasn’t enough—not even close.

So he made sure you noticed. Made sure you saw just how much he’d grown.

He began wearing less clothing around the house, casually shirtless as he passed you in the hall, his lean, sculpted frame brushing just close enough for you to feel him. Bare skin ghosting against yours in fleeting touches that lingered in your mind. His voice dipped lower in the mornings, rich and deep as he greeted you, leaning in just a little too close as he reached for one thing or another. The subtle pink that crept into your cheeks didn’t escape him—and he enjoyed every second of it.

His touches grew more deliberate, yet always subtle enough to avoid suspicion. Fingers grazing your waist as he passed, lingering just a beat too long on your arm, or a hand ghosting over the nape of your neck in what seemed like an accident. But none of it was accidental.

It was all calculated—every movement, every look, designed to pull your attention, to fluster you, to shift how you saw him. Like a predator circling its prey, he was patient, methodical, and utterly focused.

And you… you were quite the prize. Every day, he admired you, every glance fueling the fire that burned inside him. The more he pushed, the more flustered you seemed to get, each reaction feeding his obsession. But no matter how carefully he set his traps, how hard he tried to shift the dynamic, you remained painfully oblivious.

If you noticed the changes in him, you didn’t let on—offering only the small, well-meaning comments of someone watching a child grow. But Megumi couldn’t ignore the cracks in your composure, the way your voice faltered or how your cheeks burned when he walked around shirtless. Because really—what mother blushes that much when her stepkid walks by?

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

But Megumi wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot.

As the summer wore on, his patience began to wane. Subtlety had carried him far, but now it felt too slow, too restrained. His tactics shifted, his determination sharpening. He wanted something more, something that would bring him closer to you—something impossible to ignore.

p.9

p.11

come home

#yandere #dead dove do not eat #male yandere #manipulative #yandere smut #jjk #obsessive yandere #jjk smut #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x yn #yandere megumi #wisecura

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pricetagged · 2 months ago

Text

lorica

Dark November nights aren't safe, especially not for women lingering outside pubs. A taxi should get you home, and it would have if you'd remembered to double-check the license plates.

Here is 2.2k drabbly nonsense since I feel bad about my month-long lack of posting. Ghost/Reader/Price (with implied 141/Reader at the end).

Content: Dark, MDNI, kidnapping, threat of violence, guns, body neutral, f-reader, unedited.

_____________________

White whisps danced and swirled in the air before you, your breath given substance in the chill of the night.

You shuffled from foot to foot, cold air and anxiety swirling in a discomforting soup that sunk down to your bones A glance up and down the street confirmed that yes, your taxi still hadn't arrived. You unlocked your phone once more, foolish in the hope that staring at the screen would make the car appear sooner. The little black icon on the app mocked you. Your driver is 2.6km away!

A sudden cheer split the silence, flooding from the frosted windows of The White Hart. You and your friends had agreed to leave by 8 p.m., hoping to avoid the jeering and jostling of impassioned football fans. A quiet drink after work was one thing; you hadn't, however, planned on lingering to catch up with the Premier League. The noise of rowdy punters and drunk men spilled once more into the street behind you, making your heart race a little. They were just watching a match, just in their cups…

But standing solitary as you were in the dimly lit street it reminded you that you were alone.

A single streetlight buzzed and flickered its dim companionship.

You could see your breath puffing out in front of you, white on black as the night stretched on. Perhaps you should've agreed to the lift that your friends' offered, cursing your politeness. Don't want to inconvenience you! I'm headed in the opposite direction - let me just call a cab. Dark nights weren't often kind to lone women. Winter, too. It left you shivering, trussed up in fleecy fabrics as the wind bit at your numb nose and made your eyes stream. You looked like some soft, gentle thing huddled in a doorstep, hoping to pass the night safely. You panted a little, unease quickening your breath. The misty vapor furled upwards; you imagined it carrying off your hopes. Your desperation. Please, let this car arrive. Let me get home.

A nondescript black car slowed along the curbside, wheels slick and splashing in the stagnant water gathered by the gutters. You caught the tail end of the license plates, mud splattered yes, but you could see some numbers and letters shining through. Finally. You puffed out your relief, tucking your phone away as you reached for the door. Prayer answered, it seemed.

A wave of warm air kissed your cheeks as you slid in, dry and comfortable.

'Hi, how's it going? 2350, right?' You sent a half-glance at the driver, pulling your seatbelt on as you waited for confirmation.

The gears of the belt buckle clicked in the silence. Heavy, noticeable silence.

Turning back towards the front seat, your polite smile wavered slightly. The driver was a big man. Strange that you hadn’t noticed it before, but he was hulking in the seat, shoulders stretching beyond the limits of the side panels. You swallowed slightly as you noticed the headrest barely brushing the nape of his neck.

Two unwavering, dark eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror.

'Uh…' you faltered slightly, perched like bird in the backseat eager to take off, feathers ruffling and twitching. 'This is- you're the car I called? Confirmation number 2350?'

You could feel your face heating -from the chill outside, the AC inside, the mounting embarrassment - skin feeling itchy and tight. Still, you were reluctant to break his gaze. Your instincts sparked, flared to life illuminating only the thought to keep him in your sights. You felt altogether too cramped in the car, his presence spilling across the back seats.

'Yeah, 2350,' his voice rumbled over the hum of the engine. 'Tha's right.'

He made no move, didn't even blink as he stared you down. You could just about make out the arch of blond eyebrows, the craggy lines of a well-worn face but a black barrier mask halted any further consideration. You cracked first, glancing down to his thick, gloved hand resting on the gearstick. The entire dash was dark, no blue light or luminosity from his phone. No digital dials or screens anywhere.

'Aren't you gonna type it in the app? Confirm it from your end?' You hoped he didn’t notice the shake in your voice, unease plucking at your vocal chords weaving nerves into noise.

'Waitin' on yer rideshare, aren't I?'

'I didn't book a rideshare, this is just-' You cut yourself off as your numb, clumsy fingers groped for your phone. 'Let me check, I should've just booked a solo journey-'

'No need, 's'a busy night. Friday. Match on, lots of punters.' His voice was deep, tumbling like gravel from his chest. It was disjointing, actually, with his mouth covered and the lights off. His voice seemed to echo around, filling all the dark curves and corners of the car's interior. Coming from nowhere but this beast of a man with no mouth.

You shook off the thought like waterdrops from your hair. He was just a working man. Big, yes, gruff, but no need to tar him with the sticky, resinous pitch of your paranoia.

'Yer lucky to get a ride,' he continued. 'Car pool's better than standin' out in the street by y'rself. S'not safe.'

You relaxed a little into the seat, tension trickling away. Slightly. It lingered still at the base of your spine, on the back of your neck.

'Right,' you puffed out a breath as you slid your hand from your pocket. 'Do you know how long they'll be? It's just that I've been out since work this morning and I'm looking to get home sharpish.'

He snorted at that, loud and curt, "'e'll be out when he's out. Someone waitin' for ya to get home, or wot?'

'No,' you hesitated, awkwardness cutting you short, 'sorry. Just tired.'

He hummed at that, flicking his eyes around the silent street outside. Murky, orange light cut through the condensation of the pub windows, casting a faint haze on the shutters and bars of the nearby shops. All closed for the night. All empty.

'Wot you doin' out by y'rself anyway?'

Odd. He didn't seem the type for small talk.

'I wasn't out by myself,' you cringed at how pandering it seemed. How you felt you had to justify yourself. 'Was out for drinks with some colleagues and friends.'

He huffed at that, muttering something too low for you to hear. It made you prickle, for sure that it was at your expense. Maybe you should stick in your earphones, stop talking and just treat this like the transaction that it was. You drummed your fingers against the door panel, breath fogging up the window as you stared out aimlessly.

A few beats passed like that, quiet settling uncomfortably in the car like an itchy blanket. You could feel it, wanted to shift away or throw it off or something, but a glance outside at the damp, litter-strewn street kept you still. Better just to endure the discomfort if it got you home.

The snick of the locks disengaging made you jolt, drowsiness dispersing at the sudden shock of cool air from in front.

A man, almost as tall and broad as your driver, settled into the front passenger seat. His eyes, flinty under his stern brow, mapped the length and breadth of your bundled form. His lips twitched under his mustache, amusement or disbelief carved into the burgeoning smile.

'What's this, then? Picked up a stray?'

You bristled a little, scintilla of apprehension raising the hairs on your arms. They shared a look, something warm and familiar passing between them as the idling engine hummed back to life. They sat in front, black-clad and broad shoulder to broad shoulder nearly blocking your entire view of the dash.

'It's your rideshare, in't it?' the driver grunted as he pulled away from the curb.

'Booked a cab, did you sweetheart?' the stranger turned to you, strong face in profile. You could make out fragments - high nose bridge, dark hair, mutton chops obscuring most of his face. The darkness veiled the details, like staring at a painting through gauze. He was the image, the impression of a man, yes, but distant. Unsettling.

'Clearly,' tiredness and nerves made you sharp. Brittle. You sunk further into the seat, clutching your bag on your lap. As if it could act as a barrier. A shield.

A string of tension hummed, taut and quavering. You tried to ignore, watching streetlamps blur together outside, it but it whirred high and distracting. They noticed it too, you thought, shoulders squaring up as muscles tensed and flexed. The stranger huffed through his nose, proud and steady as an ox. You swore that you heard the driver chuckle under his breath, a low hehehe as he indicated right and turned off from the M60.

'Testy one, I see,' he hummed, disapproving. 'Gonna have to fix that attitude.'

The string snapped, you snapped, 'Look, Sir, I'm not trying to be rude, but I don't fancy a chat. I'm just trying to get home.'

You fumbled in your bag for your earphones, hoping to drown out any awkward silences or terse comments.

'Alright, that's enough of that. Simon, pull over.'

You looked up, half in alarm and half at the authoritative tone of his voice. The driver, Simon apparently, swerved into the hard shoulder with a 'roger that'.

The tattoo beat of your heart drowned out your thoughts, heavy thumps rushing past your ears and thrumming down to your fingertips. You scrambled for the doorhandle, scratching clumsily like a mouse.

'What are you doing? Is this some kind of Chuckle Brothers double act because if so, it's not funny,' your words fell like fragile little shards, hoping to cut but shattering in the air. Your pitch rose, 'You want the bag, my things? I'll report you, you shouldn't be fucking working this job.'

Your phone felt heavy in your hand, shaking fingers missing the keypad as you tried to type the password.

The stranger sighed heavily, patronising. Like you were inconveniencing him in some way. You licked you lips and glanced up, ready to run your mouth again as the app loaded.

A steely glint by the central console strangled the words in your throat.

'Didn't want to have to do this sweetheart,' the stranger's lips quirked up in a sad, half-smile. You scanned his face, seeing no note of hesitation. Just cool, steady eyes and that stupid, fake smile. 'Hand that over, nice and easy.'

Neurons fired, trying to make connections or plans. Trying to assess. Here you were, alone in a car with two strange men. You shouldn't hand your phone to them, you could barely feel your fingers anymore, never mind unfurl them from the edges of the case. If you handed over your phone - your lifeline- then what?

If you didn't hand it over, you had the answer to that question from the barrel of the gun pointed your way.

You stared at it, dull silver in the dark. Like a cynosure, it pulled your gaze towards it. A sick facsimile of the North Star, leading you away from safety and further into the den of the wolves ahead.

Your animal instincts screamed, struggled, but lost as you passed your phone into his large, calloused grasp.

'Good girl,' he smiled fully then, round cheeks and bright eyes masking the coldness beneath. 'Don't get fussy now - Simon, the locks - just sit tight and you'll be home in no time.'

You tugged futilely at the handle, useless now that Simon had engaged the child-safety lock.

'I don't live down this way, I- this is not the right way,' you licked your lips again, mouth dry and bitter with the taste of rising bile. You could see, now, that you wouldn't be going home that night. Your next words tasted acrid, tinged with defeat. 'Why are you doing this?'

'Thought ya wanted to come wiv us,' Simon's gravelly voice cut in, amusement warming the pitch into something mocking. 'Why else jump into a strange car?'

'You said you were my taxi, you confirmed-'

'Did I?' you saw his eyebrow quirk, dead predator eyes meeting yours once more through the rear-view mirror. 'Not very good at lookin' after y'rself, are ya?'

Your quick little breaths fogged up the window beside you. It was hard to see, hard to think. But clearly, not thinking had brought you this far. You didn’t think to accept your friends' offer, didn’t think to properly check the license plates, didn't think open the app and check the journey status.

There must have been something of surrender in the tremble of your lips. In the flickering of your wide, glossy eyes. It scented the air, whetting the appetite of the beasts in front of you, swirling around their chops.

'S'alright, love. We'll get ya home. Get ya taken care of.'

Lacrima painted your lash line, salty and hot as it brimmed over and down your cheeks.

You heard a rustle, felt a rough thumb brushing at your tears. The stranger had reached back, large hand nudging your face back up to look at him.

'No more tears, now, c'mon,' he dug his into the corner of your mouth, tugging your lips into a coy, marionette simper. 'Smile, sweetheart. The rest of the boys are dying to meet you.'

________________________________

Bit rushed, but hey 🤷‍♀️. This has probs been done before but here's my spin. Apologies for the lack of fics lately! Feel like I'm getting my groove back so should have some actual content out soon.

#yeah idk simon and price were on a mission and are using a stolen car #and poor little reader got all mixed in it #simon is an opportunist ey #báirseach writes #simon riley cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley/reader #captain john price #john price/reader #john price x reader #simon riley/john price/reader #dark 141 #reader x 141 #dark fic

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princessbrunette · 11 months ago

Note

Rafe x shy reader who just nods when he says things and he taps her jaw and is like hey speak when spoken to

i feel the easy option would to be to talk about how this is totally s3!rafe, because you know — it’s just prime daddy material. he would do this kind of thing, all the time infact— but what about this rafe, on a power trip from being given more responsibility lately.

𝜗𝜚₊˚⊹♡

talking midsummers rafe, in that powder blue suit dragging around his pretty little girlfriend to show off to all of his fathers business associates that he claims will one day be men he works beside and above.

you’re overwhelmed just a little, which is why you’re happy to stay pinned to his side, a large hand splayed across your back to keep you there. he does all the talking thankfully, charismatic and knowing all the right things to say to get the men laughing in that uppity jaunty manner with their drinks clutched in their fist. he was still rafe, still always a little too obscene and immature around the edges — but ward didn’t give him nearly enough credit on how good he was at being a guy, and that seemed to charm the crowd especially the more they drank.

you do as you were instructed, stand there — smile, look pretty, nod when necessary, but of course as expected some questions were often directed at you out of pure politeness. you were painfully shy, so you’d often squeak out a response with as few words as possible. it mostly didn’t seem to bother rafe in the slightest, and if he thought your answer required more words he’d give your waist a squeeze where his hand rested to force more of a response out of you.

after a while, rafe walks you to a corner where there were no eyes on the two of you— deciding now was the time to check in on you. “you good? you’re real quiet… you know that?” he leans forward a little, bending ever so slightly at the waist to be heard over the music.

“yeah, just shy.” you shrug, not meeting his eye. you were a little intimidated by him at times, but it was mainly due to how attractive you were finding him in the moment.

“would you like another drink? t’help you out with that?”

you think, staring off away from him dreamily and he doesn’t like your lack of attention on him — so he draws it back with a sudden tap to your jaw, leaning even lower to look at you. “hey, you speak when your spoken to, yeah?”

you were used to this kind of thing from rafe, and call it what you want but the messed up side to you let it continue due to the way it drenched you each time. you would have moved on from it quickly in your brain, but just as he’d done it — you’d locked eyes with ward from across the room.

“no thank you. no drink.” you instinctively bring your hand to your jaw where he’d tapped you and he lightly bats your hand away like he wanted to hide any evidence that he’d just given you a little slap in the corner of a heavily populated party. he nods, teeth sunk in his bottom lip with a wash of guilt and he looks around for a moment, double taking at the sight of his father headed straight towards the two of you with an eerily plastered on grin. all for show, the cameron way.

“ah, shit.” the oldest cameron scratches behind his ear, suddenly not feeling so big. his father approaches, clamping a hand down on his shoulder.

“the rowans are just dying to talk to you, son. over there.” ward grins, fake as he nods towards a smiling and waving couple at the other side of the room. rafe opens his mouth to speak, and wards jaw clenches, yet his smile remains. “go.”

rafe traipses off towards the pair, and as you go to sheepishly follow him— ward places a hand on your back, looking down at you with a kind smile, a tinge of something else in his icy eyes. perhaps concern? he was potentially disturbed by what he’d seen his son do just now in public, but perhaps more disturbed by the fact he reminds him so much of himself. you weren’t too sure.

“everything okay, sweetheart?” he asks, and there’s something else in his voice. you smile, unbothered because you genuinely were. it was rafe after all, you knew what he was like and sickeningly enough — you liked it.

“yes sir! just a little tired.” you shrug bashfully and he nods slowly, smile fading as he watches his son interact enthusiastically, adjusting the older gentleman infront of him’s tie charismatically, much to his amusement.

“alright… you won’t let him bully you. okay?” he stares you down with wide eyes and you freeze slightly, giving him a smaller, shyer nod. with that, he lets you go — running along back to rafe’s side where you knew you belonged.

𝜗𝜚₊˚⊹♡

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

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juukai · 3 months ago

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DCAtober day 11: Naptime

moon/sun x reader, ~5.2k words, fluff

soft moon lovers come get your soup

You honestly had not been this tired in quite some time.

You didn't even have a good reason for it. You hadn't stayed up late reading or watching videos or playing games. You hadn't been stuck doomscrolling on your phone in bed for hours. You'd taken your melatonin and gone to bed as normal. Sure, you'd struggled a bit to fall asleep, but that was a known issue; that was what you took the little purple gummies for as instructed by the bottle.

Sun had given you a little bit of a look when you had come in for the day, leading you to believe that there must have been some outward signs that you were exhausted, but he was momentarily polite enough not to say anything.

That also could have been because of the two kids that were hanging off of him and using him as a jungle gym, and he had taken his attention off of you fairly quickly to wrangle them into a safer activity. Namely, rocketing through the play structures as fast as they could to see who could get to and down the slide fastest.

The more that the day wore on from there, the more you could feel the exhaustion weighing on you like a physical force trying to drive you into the ground. All of your limbs felt heavy, like it took much more energy than usual to move them and you did so slower than normal as a result. Sun had told you, when you'd come in after he sent the two kids propelling through the play equipment and had made sure that they were distracted, that you would be on arts and crafts duty today, at least in the beginning. You were there for the kiddos who didn't want to go do some of the more physical play, who wanted a space to draw crude animals or pictures of their families that would get hung up on the fridge later, or to color in provided sheets of the different Glamrocks.

Sun always made sure that there was something to do for the kids who got overstimulated with the rowdier play, or for those who just weren't in the mood. Most days the two of you would switch off on who was managing what, unless he had something else planned in the slot for the kids. Puppet shows, movies, they even did more in-depth craft days like making things with quick-dry clay, or pulling out the smocks and letting kids work with paints rather than just crayons, markers, and colored pencils. Sun especially seemed to like paper pal days, though Moon seemed to dislike picking glue out of their joints after the children had all packed up and gone home.

Putting you at the art table today was almost a punishment, though, and Sun didn't seem to be interested in switching. You normally didn't mind, you helped the kids make what shapes they were looking for in their art, or just sat and praised them when they were looking for that. But today it was hard to not feel like every minute was dragging on, and it was an exercise in will not to let your eyes grow tired and heavy while you were sat in one place for so long. You'd be slower and probably clumsier than usual playing with the kids, but at least it would probably wake you up.

Morning snack time was a little reprieve which you appreciated. Getting up to pass out the snacks with Sun was nice and allowed you to stretch and get some energy back. You tried to ask Sun if you guys could trade places then, but he'd just shaken his head and told you that he had it covered and that you could keep taking a break at the table. You had wanted to push and explain why you wanted to switch, but he hadn't let you get more than a word out any time you had tried and eventually had gently pushed you in that direction.

It wasn't worth the fight, you'd just do your best to shake off the run-down feeling.

You had disappeared entirely during naptime. You waved to Moon when he came out and motioned towards the direction of the food court while on your way to the door when he'd given you a questioning look.. You felt a little bad for ducking out on him straight away, but the way that he nodded gave you the impression that he understood and it didn't look like he held it against you at all as he approached the gaggle of children. There would be no way that you could last with the lights out and the calm music playing over the speakers, especially during story time listening to Moon's deeper soothing voice he used to put the kids at ease.

Your lunch was uneventful other than making the mistake of laying your head down once you'd finished a spicy chicken sandwich and some slightly soggy fries. You had only meant to relax for the last fifteen minutes of your break, to convince your body that some rest was better than nothing during your work day and then you'd be able to tackle the rest of your shift without feeling vaguely like a zombie. You had woken up to a message from Moon to your Fazwatch five minutes after when you should have clocked back in, asking if you were alright or needed an out from another forced conversation with one of your coworkers. Thomas was a nice enough guy, but he really didn't like to let you go when you tried to exit interactions with him. Moon liked to tease you about Thomas had quite a crush.

You had dashed back down to the daycare after getting rid of your trash, messaging back that you were alright and that you were on your way back now.

Sun was the one greeting you when you returned, waving from where he was leaning over a table in able to help a kid, judging by the way that he had a hand over theirs on a colored pencil. You waved back, setting your backpack behind the security desk. By the time you had stood back up and were making your way back around, Sun was there to meet you with his hands clasped in front of him.

"Hello, Sunbeam! Everything okay?"

You smiled up at him. "Everything's fine, Sunny. Sorry I'm back late, I put my head down for a minute and the next thing I knew Moon was checking on me."

His head cocked to the side slightly, his expression growing a little concerned while his smile remained. "Are you sure that you're alright? You haven't seemed quite yourself today."

It was cute that he was concerned, and you appreciated it, really. There weren't a whole lot of people in your life getting concerned about you day-to-day, not like they did. "I'm just really tired today, Sunny-bunny. That's all, promise."

The reaction to that was near instantaneous. He straightened, looming just a bit, and the new posture while he was looking down at you cast his face in the shadow of the lights above. His normally blank eyes gained a pinprick of color in the center, and you knew then that you'd stepped in it.

"You should sleep." His voice wasn't Moon's, Sun's was still what the box would be set to since he was the one in control, but it was much deeper than Sun's normally dipped.

You snorted softly. "I can't sleep on the job, Moon. Believe it or not, they pay me to help take care of the kids, not catch some Zs."

Sun's head shook and his gaze was still sharp. "We don't strictly need help watching them, we operated before you were brought on as an assistant and we do just fine on your days off." Even though your days off were slower work-week days, and today was a Friday.

His voice and expression brightened briefly to say, "not that we don't appreciate you and your help! We enjoy having you around and the children love you!"

It then returned to the look that he'd had before and his tone lowered again. "We do. However, you should look after yourself. Fazbear won't care if you burn yourself out by working when you're not up to it, and they certainly won't care if you were to make yourself sick doing it."

You gave him a look. "I'm not going to get sick just because I work when I'm tired. The only people that happens to are the ones who are really overworking themselves when they're exhausted. Like people who have three jobs and sleep two hours a day or something. You don't have to worry."

He made a little disbelieving sound at you, and you tipped your head back with a groan. "Moon, I'll be alright! Sun, tell him I'll be alright."

Sun's eyes narrowed and his default smile grew taught at the edges. "Don't pit us against each other, Star. I'll have you know that both of us worry over you in equal amounts."

"Besides," the actual Sun said with an amused tone and a little laugh, "we argue enough as it is, we don't need your help there!"

That was certainly true, from what you'd heard. They bickered a lot, though most of the time it seemed good-natured and playful.

"Stop being nice to me and go take care of the kids or something. Shouldn't it be their lunchtime soon?"

"That was a pretty poor deflection. Zero-out-of-ten. Try harder." Sun's hand came up and he pushed you back with one finger to the forehead, but it was still Moon who was speaking so you were sure that was all him. "You're scheduled until after the daycare closes. Stay in here after the last kid is picked up, you owe me for being gone while I was out."

"Fine. Just let Sun go do your job. I'll help pass lunches out in a second." You mimed shooing him away, and while he lingered for a moment more his posture did change from the rigidity of when Moon had been commandeering their body. Sun's rays spun two quick circles around his head before he gave you a pat on the shoulder, much nicer than Moon's parting contact.

"We do care, Starshine. It worries us when you aren't at your best. You humans are so fragile..." His eyes lingered on you for a little longer before he turned away, having said apparently all he wanted to about that for the moment. Like he hadn't just let slip that they both had concerns about your human nature.

Still, you let him go without trying to remind him that you could be equally as worried. The machines here could be effected by magnets being placed on them, even though technology was supposed to largely be past that now unless it was a really big magnet. What if one of the kids stuck one to him? It was a reasonable worry, as reasonable as theirs.

You passed out the little turkey and crackers and cheese lunch packs- not Lunchables, of course, Fazbear would never allow that, these were specifically company branded and the crackers were shaped like Freddy's head- while Sun passed out juice boxes. Later you were up and helping a boy count while others hid in a game of hide and seek. At first Sun tried to keep you back over by the tables again, but you made it known this time you didn't plan on staying over there.

A part of you wanted to threaten to make getting sleepy his problem, but you weren't that mean when you knew it triggered Moon's programming so strongly to say things like that. But you had given him a look that implied what you were trying to say. He'd stopped bothering you about resting after that.

Which was fine, really. You were slower and less coordinated than normal and you knew it, so you didn't really try to get in on the games that were happening. You just needed to be up and moving or your energy level would tank even further than it had already.

Around four the kids started getting picked up, and at that point you stationed yourself behind the security desk to help with checkouts. Sun didn't truly need the help, but he said that he appreciated it anyway so that he could keep the other kids distracted and playing. Some of the adults felt a little better about a human handling the process, anyway, despite the animatronic being the one who cared for their kids all day long. By six most of the kids were gone and you started to go through the end-of-day paperwork while Sun kept the stragglers entertained with a puppet show where they got to decide what happened in the story, no matter how silly.

Just before seven, the daycare's official closing time, the last child was checked out and picked up. Sun already had the crafts organized and packed up and there was a trash bag waiting by the door to be taken out. You finalized your report with the checkout times for Fazbear to use in charging the parents and then left the desk to go help Sun finish cleaning.

You were stopped almost right away.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Sun put his hands on his hips. "No more of that! You've worked plenty hard today, we're finishing up the rest."

You rose an eyebrow at him. "So you're going to kick me out early? I thought Moon wanted me to stay."

"See," Sun started, but he was walking towards the doors, "the thing is, he does want you to stay." He stopped once he reached the wall. "He just has something specific in mind for you. I'll see you tomorrow, Sunshine!"

You didn't get a chance to ask what he was talking about before the light went off. Through the new dimness in the room you were still able to catch the way that the sunrays retracted and the nightcap popped out of hiding. You never did understand how the color change of their plating and outfit worked, though, even when you watched the change like you did now.

As soon as the switch was complete Moon slouched into his normal- hideous- posture and flicked his head back so that the end of the nightcap was behind him instead of over his shoulder.

His attention honed in on you almost immediately and you gave him a timid wave. "Hey, Moon..."

"Hello, little star," he answered as he positively slunk his way towards you. It was like he was trying to sneak up on you like a cartoon bad guy, except you were watching him the entire time. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine, promise. I'm not getting sick or anything." At least, you were pretty sure that you weren't. "Want to scan me to put your mind at ease?"

He snickered. "Bold of you to assume that I didn't earlier when I butted in on you and Sun."

You swatted at him half-heartedly to his utter delight, if the way he danced back and grinned was any indication. "Who taught you internet speak? Stop it."

"You did." His face rotated a couple times like he was working out some energy before he calmed back down. "No fever, vitals seemed normal, no sensed abrasions or contusions, eyes focused and speech not slurred. Conclusion: monitor due to delayed response times, insist on lower impact or non-physical activities while on Fazco properties to avoid injury and potential lawsuits."

Ugh, you forgot that the company could be thorough when it meant avoiding the dreaded lawsuits. At least when they wanted to be, there were still instances where their cheapness bit them in the ass.

"Well there you go, I'm perfectly fine. Now, we going to finish up cleaning the place? I can take the trash to the tunnels if you want to start wiping down the inside of the slides." You started to brush past him but you were stopped right away as his arm shot out at shoulder-level to block your path.

"No. You're going to rest while I take care of the cleaning Sun left."

You groaned and pushed at his arm. "C'mon, bud. It'll all go much faster if we just work together and then I can sit down or something with you for a bit before I clock out. That's resting enough, right? Then I can go home and rest more."

He leveled you a rather unimpressed look, the corners of his mouth falling as much as their forced grin would allow. "No." He didn't let himself be pushed aside. "You forget that we have all night to finish whatever cleaning the daycare needs. My patrols don't take that long, they won't eat into the time that we have to get this place 'spic-and-span', in Sun's own words."

"You are such a pain. Or rather, your programming is such a pain. I don't need to rest!"

"Ooooh," he cooed, amused rather than offended. "Is someone getting a little cranky because they're fighting their nap?"

"I hate you. This is me, hating you right now," you grumbled.

He laughed and stepped closer into your space. "No you don't. I'm your favorite." With little warning his arms wrapped around you tightly, leaving you surprised. Sun gave you hugs all the time, but Moon was a little harder to garner physical affection from. "Hold on tight, nightlight."

You had exactly five seconds to get your arms back around him before you heard the aerial line connect to his back with a sharp click, which had you scrambling to clasp your hands together behind his back before he took off into the air. He always made it seem easy, gliding around on the rope and manipulating it like a dancer on silks. He had only once allowed you up with him and it had been short, just a trip from the top of one of the play structures back to the ground while he held you by your hands.

You weren't a big fan of heights, so you hadn't minded it being brief. You had to admit, though, that the weightless feeling with the security of knowing that Moon would never drop you had been a little exhilarating.

This trip was also short-lived. He didn't waste any time drawing wherever you were going out. There was lift off and your hair ruffling as you moved through the air, and then you felt Moon make contact with solid ground again. He didn't let you touch the floor, however. His hold on you shifted and it was as if you weighed nothing at all for the way that he managed to get you into a princess carry with minimal effort.

"Moon, what-"

"Shh. This is what I wanted you to stay here for." He hopped down from where he had landed with the two of you and you finally took a minute to look around.

You were at the room behind the balcony that Sun greeted the first children from every morning; their room. You had never been up here before. You'd asked about it before, sure, but the boys had seemed rather private about it. You knew that Sun saved drawings that children made for him and Moon and hung them up here, but only because he'd told you that. You knew that there was something here that allowed them to charge their big battery but as you looked you didn't see a charging station like the Glamrocks had all around the plex.

You did, however, see some strung up fairy lights in the shape of stars that gave off a soft blue-white light and some glow stars on the ceiling. The walls were covered in little pictures from kids, some obviously older than others by the color that the paper was turning. There also seemed to be a lot of toys and foam shapes up here, probably just for extra storage or to be fixed up if you had to guess. There was a curtain randomly on one of the walls that Moon pushed aside.

"Hold on, this will be a little bit of a tight squeeze."

There was a hole in the wall. A weird, small hole, with a dim room beyond. Why didn't the building designers give them a real door? You only had a moment to wonder that before Moon started to crawl through while holding you with one hand, reminding you of how a spider moved as he quickly worked the both of you through.

On the other side was a room with more star lights but this one had a collection of pillows in the corner of the room where a thick cable protruded from the wall. There were only a couple pictures in here on the walls, the rest were draped with what appeared to be old blankets, hanging in a way that actually made the place seem a bit cozy. There was a single arcade cabinet off to the side, in an opposite corner from what you assumed to be their little self-made charging station. The last thing of note in the room was a hammock made of dark blue, solid cloth rather than the lace kind you were used to seeing outdoors.

"You two are actually letting me see your room, finally?" You wriggled to let him know you wanted down. "I've been asking you about it for ages."

He didn't set you down at all, instead he walked you further inside. "It wasn't important enough to bring you up before, and I prefer not to tell anyone how to find the door." Moon went directly to the hammock.

"Hold on, don't you dare!" You tried to shimmy out of his hold but when he had his mind set to something it was hard to deny a robot, even one that was being extremely gentle and careful with you. He slipped you into the hammock as easily as a child tucked in their doll.

"There you go," he laughed. "Now to get you nice and comfy." He ducked down out of sight and you were afraid of upsetting the balance of the engulfing fabric by peeking over to see what he was doing. He popped back up with a constellation print blanket and one of the smaller pillows. "These are clean, don't worry. Lift your head."

"Stop treating me like a toddler!" You lifted your head anyway, lest he wedge the pillow under it himself. "You are so going to be in for it later, buster. Let me out of here."

Gentle fingers against your collarbone urged you back down once the pillow was in place. "Stop acting like a toddler, then. You fell asleep on your lunchbreak in the middle of an obnoxiously loud and bright atrium where the others perform shows every half hour during those timeslots. You're exhausted." Moon covered you with the blanket while his eyes stayed on your face, his expression softening. "There's no shame in it, starlight. It happens to humans all the time." His head cocked a little to the side as if listening to something that you couldn't hear and then he chuckled. "Yes, sorry. Even synthetic life gets tired, too. You just need to recharge, so to speak."

You absolutely hated that he had a point. You stopped struggling. "You're not going to drop it until I take a nap, are you?"

He cackled softly and booped you on the nose, and ignored your muttered 'asshole' in response. "Look who's finally starting to use their head! We're so proud."

"Hate. Double hate. Friendship with Moon ended, Monty is my best friend now." You worked on getting into a comfortable position under the blanket in the swinging hammock.

"Aww, we were besties?" You got the impression that he would be fluttering his eyelashes at you if he had any. You reached out from your cocoon to push his face away from you.

"No, never happened. Monty is all I need."

Moon didn't seem at all deterred by you. "Sun will be so sad. He didn't even have a chance to take my 'best friend' status before it was ripped away." Moon pushed your hand back under the blanket and pulled it back up into place. "Now will you hush and get some rest? You're putting my code on edge."

That made you relax some. You hadn't meant to actually make things harder on him, though you were pretty sure that he wasn't really upset given that his tone was still playful and casual. It was just a gentle warning, perhaps.

"Fine. But you wake me up so I can clock out, if I even fall asleep. Are we clear?" You tried to give him your most intimidating look. It probably didn't land when you were all swaddled up like this.

"I understand." He started to backtrack towards the hole in the wall. "Stay put and don't touch anything, please. The game malfunctions and we're pretty sure there's a chance that the charging cable over there could shock you."

"Fine, fine. No poking around, got it. I don't trust myself to get out of this anyway, why do you have it set up so high?" You could tell you'd have to be careful getting out.

"We're tall, little star. It's set up for us, not you." He turned to start his crawl back to their main room. "Nighty night."

It was quiet after he left. You could hear the low sound of the music outside, muffled by the walls even though you were not closer to the speakers. You couldn't hear Moon out there at all while he must have taken the line off the balcony and started cleaning up like he'd said. After a couple minutes of getting used to laying the way you were, you found that the setup was actually pretty comfortable. Not your preferred way to sleep, but probably better than the floor even if you took the pillow corner.

You weren't sure how long it took before you drifted off, but you wouldn't have been surprised if it hadn't taken much time at all.

You slowly became aware of shuffling nearby, of rolling into another body just by nature of the bed you were in. Hammock? Hammock. You groaned unhappily and closed your eyes tighter and immediately you were shushed in a gentle tone.

"It's alright, go back to sleep," the voice murmured as arms settled gently around you.

"Moon?" you had to be asleep, there was no way the bot was there against you.

"Shh, no talking, Starlight. Just rest." That was definitely Moon's voice. You could swear that the chest you were up against was expanding and contracting, though. Like breathing. Animatronics didn't need to breathe though, did they? They didn't have lungs. Your expression pinched.

"Wait..." You heard a beleaguered sigh. Things were coming back to you, though slow and like your thoughts were swimming. "I need to clock out 'nd go home."

"I clocked you out already, you're fine. Go back to sleep."

You yawned and then tried your hardest not to nuzzle your cheek against his chest. It was a test of your willpower, truly. "You're not as cold as I thought you'd be." Or hard, being made of metal, but you felt like that could be taken a little inappropriately.

As it was that earned you a teasingly offended sound. "I'm hurt. But also: I'm a machine. Everything working in me keeps me a little warm, just like everything working in you warms you up. My components are just louder about it." Which you supposed was true enough. You could hear his fans through the metal of his chest. "We've also got a layer of silicone. Helps keep our moving parts from pinching little fingers."

Made sense. You were quiet for a few minutes after that and drifting closer to falling asleep again with every passing second until you felt the need for a full body stretch.

"Ooh, big stretch," Moon teased like you were a beloved pet.

You grumbled at him as you resettled. This time you did nuzzle against him a little while getting comfortable again. You had the distinct feeling that you were going to be extremely embarrassed about all of this later when you weren't so comfortable and tired.

"Mmm. You smell good." You sleepily snuggled in a little closer to the smell, the fingers of one hand curling up by your face.

He let out a confused chuckle. "Thank you? I don't think anyone's ever said that to us before." His fingers started to pass up and down your back lightly and you melted even further into him. "What's it like?"

"Berries," you answered without a pause. "Not the sweet processed smell, but like... actual raspberries or cherries or something. And amber. And some sort of wood." You sighed deeply on your next inhale and stifled another yawn after. "It's different than how Sun smells. It's like nighttime. I like it." You couldn't begin to wonder how their designers were able to make the two of them smell different, but then you didn't understand their outfit change at all either. You weren't a mechanic or an engineer, such things were not your forte.

"Are you saying that Sun smells?" You could hear his teasing grin as you groaned and thunked the heel of your palm against his chest. "I'll be sure to let him know."

"Stop." You resituated yourself, now with one arm around him and resting on the hammock. "You're just trying to get me in trouble. Sun smells good, too, just... lighter. Not as rich. Doesn't make me want to curl up and go to sleep as much."

Moon hummed in a way that you could feel running through his chest under your head and the hammock under you both started rocking gently from side to side. "Speaking of, I think it's time to go back to sleep. You don't seem like you've caught up on your sleep debt yet."

"Jailed for sleep debt crimes," you grumble. "Hammock air jail."

He chuckled again. "Definitely still need some rest. Go on, Starlight. Stop fighting it, just go to sleep. I'll wake you before the shutters close for the night."

His chest started to rumble, like when he had hummed, timed with his synthetic breaths. Was it like purring? How cute... You'd definitely have to ask- and tease- about that later when he inevitably teased you for all of this. For now it, that smell clinging to him, and the way that he lightly scratched your back through your shirt were enough to start lulling you. No wonder kids that struggled with naptime were able to conk right out once he scooped them up for a more direct approach to putting them down for their nap.

"G'night, Moon."

You were fairly sure you heard a "goodnight, pretty star," whispered into your hair right above your ear before you slipped under and sank into sleep.

#dcatober24 #my writing #dca fandom #dca fanfic #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf dca #sb sun #sb moon #sb dca #dca x reader #dca x y/n #long post #page breaks belong to #strangergraphics-archive #can you tell I had an extremely specific scent in mind for moon jfc

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stairain · 2 years ago

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Mommy's Boyfriend.

While dropping off your son at school, the last thing you expect is your ex-boyfriend Mr.Reid to be his teacher.

Warnings: Soft Dom Spencer, Mother reader, Your child is unnamed don't think too much about it, make-up sex, cunnilingus, begging, gentle-ish sex, doggy style, light choking, cream pie, he loves you too much.

WC: 7.1K

It was the first day of school, and you were dropping your son off, walking through the hallway and holding the little boy's hand. As you passed through various rooms, you smiled at passing teachers and students. When you finally make it to your son's classroom, you kneel down and kiss his forehead before saying a few encouraging words to him, patting his back before urging him into the room.

"I'll see you in a few hours, love.."

You say to him as he walks away from you. When you stand up, you're not at all expecting Spencer to be standing there behind you. The two of you had broken up just before summer started, and although you knew he was a teacher, you were really hoping you didn't see him today.

What are the chances he’s your son's teacher? Apparently very high ones.

You give him a forced polite smile before trying to walk away from him as quickly as you could.

As Spencer watches you go, he’s hit with a wave of shame, guilt, and disgust. He should never have let things end the way he had. He should’ve tried to fix things but, instead, he had just given up. It was something he would never forgive himself for. He decides that he’s not going to let you go without at least knowing that he regrets his actions. He walks after you.

"Hey."

You hear him, and the clicking of your heels against the floor speeds up as you try to get away from him as fast as possible.

"Wait.." He says in a calm, firm, serious voice with a hint of a pleading tone. He picks up his pace and is quickly closing the distance between you two. When he moves closer to you, he reaches a hand out to plant on your shoulder, trying to stop you.

When you shrug off his hand, he purses his lips and quickly runs in front of you, so you're forced to stop. You blink at the quick movement and look up at him with eyes full of undercover malice. Pushing your tongue into your cheek in annoyance, you quietly snap at him, so as to not attract a crowd.

"Can I help you?"

Spencer looks at you with eyes that are full of regret, sadness, shame, and longing. He takes a small step closer to you. You can see that he’s upset, but most of the emotions he is feeling are negative ones directed at himself. He looks like he wants to hug you and cry at the same time, but he is restraining himself, far too scared to make you even angrier at him. Even in all of his sadness and regret there is still a little bit of love in his eyes, and it looks like he’s about to cry.

You bite your lips as the look in his eyes still never ceases to make you melt. With a small shake of your head, you speak.

"Listen, it's been great seeing you, but I just came to drop off my kid, alright?" You push past him and start walking towards the front doors, not wanting to be around him any longer than you already have.

Spencer reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can make it to the door. He looks at you with pleading eyes, still full of the same negative self-loathing emotions, but there’s a glint of hope and love in them.

"Wait–please." He says, his tone now urgent. "I just need two minutes of your time; to explain."

You take a deep breath and look down at your watch before you look back at him. "Don't you have a job to do?"

Spencer takes a deep breath and his eyes narrow before his expression softens again. "Yes, I do," he says.

"But, I'll go to work every day for the rest of my life. Please, just two minutes of your time." He looks desperate and pleading but, if you refuse again, he seems like he’ll let you go.

It hurts you to admit it, but his words make your heart swell. If there was one thing he was always good at doing, it was putting you first. But ironically, that's what got the two of you here in the first place. With wavering eyes, you look around before sighing, and agreeing.

"Two minutes."

A huge wave of relief washes over Spencer and he can't help but smile a little bit. He walks you to a quiet place to talk. Once you are out of earshot of everyone around he looks at you with regretful eyes, and his voice begins to crack a bit.

"I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you and I am so sorry for the way I treated you. I was too caught up in my work and didn't give our relationship the attention it needed and I regret it every day. Please, forgive me."

You shake your head and look down at anywhere but him, because you know the second your gaze locks with those puppy-dog eyes you've always adored, all of your progress of "getting over him" in the past few months would go to waste in a heartbeat.

"I-I don't know, Spence.."

You hadn't even noticed the way you referred to him as his nickname you always used to call him, too caught up in your emotions to acknowledge it now.

"Please," His voice sounds desperate, like he might break down any moment now.

"I would do anything to fix what I have done. Please, just give me one more chance. I will never take you or our relationship for granted again. I love you."

As those last few words escape his lips his voice breaks and he looks like he might just get down on both knees and beg you. He looks completely ready and willing to show you, not just tell you, how sorry he is and that he can and will make things right.

Raising your chin a little to look at him through teary lashes, you run your thumb along your waterline. With a heavy sigh, you finally find the courage to look him in the eyes.

"You have a class to teach, Spencer. I'm sorry."

"I'll call in sick. I'd walk away from my job in an instant if it meant I got you back."

His voice is desperate as it breaks again and tears well up in his eyes.

"Please, love. Just give me a chance."

He looks heartbroken, and this is probably the most emotional, intense, and passionate he has ever been about his love for you and it's hard for you to resist. You’re sure you'll be making a mistake by saying no, but at the same time, you feel you’ll be making an even bigger mistake by saying yes.

You almost laugh at his words, but you stop yourself before you do. If you laughed in his face right now, you know he'd absolutely be crushed. With a sad smile, you sniff.

"Don't do that, Spencer."

With one last look at your watch, you barely think about the next words that leave your mouth. You were just saying whatever he wanted to hear, you couldn't help it. Even after everything, you just wanted to please him.

"Listen, I- School ends at three, right? When I come to pick him up, we can talk more, okay?"

Spencer is absolutely thrilled by how things just went. He fully expected you to just walk out on him, and he wouldn’t even blame you. He tries to hide the happiness on his face but he's unable to prevent himself from letting a small smile creep onto his lips. He nods his head in agreement.

"Three o'clock," He says in a calming, but still emotional, voice. "I'll be right here." He looks over you for a second before he turns and walks away, still clearly full of hope and optimism.

And you're left in the room by yourself and your thoughts as he walks out. You know this is a mistake, and you should've just ignored him and went on with your life, but it was too late now. In a battle with your heart and your head, you think you're going to let your heart win.

As the day passes, you're running errands and doing some work of your own, but your mind is somewhere else.

It's only two thirty, you've got another half hour until you see him again, and you feel your nerves race through your body. As you sit in your car in silence, the sound of your heart pounding in your chest rings in your ears, and it taunts you.

You can't help but feel excited as you think about finally getting the chance to talk to him and try to work things out despite knowing full well that this is a bad idea. Part of you still wants to run, but the idea of having him in your life again feels like a dream come true and it’s hard to resist that kind of temptation when it is just within your grasp.

At three o'clock Spencer is waiting at the school, just as he promised, hoping you won't change your mind.

Taking a deep breath and shaking out your hands, you get out of the car and begin to walk towards the entrance of the school. All of the other children and parents were walking back to their own cars, and you remember then that your son had after-school sports, and he wouldn't be going home with you now.

At least it gave you and Spencer more time to speak. As you walk closer to him, the pounding of your pulse fills all of your senses, and you force a polite smile on your face.

As you approach him he smiles and hugs you. His arms are warm and comforting, and just having him hold you again makes you feel better. You can tell he is nervous too, you can see it in the way his eyes are darting around and how he keeps fidgeting his hands. You can also tell that he’s trying to keep his composure and has the same polite smile you do. He's trying to act like things are normal and like he isn't just dying of impatience for when you two can go somewhere to have a serious conversation.

With a small push to his chest, you break the hug with an awkward chuckle. His touch felt so nice, so comforting, but it was too much for you right now. You clear your throat as you stand in front of him with your arms behind your back and stutter as you speak.

When you push him away you can see a little bit of hurt in his eyes before it’s quickly replaced with understanding and patience.

"I-I forgot that.. I forgot my son has soccer practice now.. So I don't have to pick him up for a few hours.." Your voice is wavering and sheepish, and you sound so unsure of yourself. The woman you were this morning, strong and unwilling to speak to the man in front of you was traded for a whole new persona, one that couldn't help but fumble under the gaze of Spencer.

"I see." He says in a calm, comforting tone, "Then, what would you like to do? Where would you like to talk?" As he speaks you can see him relax a little bit, but he is still filled with nervous energy, but it's clear that he’s trying to help you calm down.

And before you can stop yourself.

"We could go back to my place.."

When you say those words a huge smile makes its way across Spencer's face. He nods in agreement and takes your hand in his. You let him hold it.

"Your place, it is." As he speaks he leads you to his car and opens the passenger side door for you before getting into the driver's side himself. He turns to look at you to make sure you've gotten in safely and smiles again before turning forward to drive from the school to your house. As he drives, your thoughts race. You start thinking of all the ways this could go wrong, and they outweigh everything that could go right.

It almost hurts your heart that he still remembers where you live, without a GPS or directions. It's like he never really forgot, how could he? It's all muscle memory to him.

As Spencer drives, a wave of nostalgia hits him hard. He can't help but remember all the sweet moments you have had at your place. He remembers the long nights, and the quiet mornings. He remembers the way you used to make him feel.

Then it hits him, these are the same feelings that made him make the huge, dumb mistake that got him in this situation in the first place. If he doesn't want to lose you again he’s going to have to do everything in his power to fix his mistakes and do everything he needs to do in order to make you happy.

Pulling into your driveway, you swallow before unbuckling yourself and stepping out of the car. You don't wait on him as you're walking up the pavement to your front door, pushing it open and walking inside.

Spencer gets out of the car and follows you inside, closing the door gently behind him. He walks over to you and looks at you with intense love and affection in his eyes. Before you can speak, he gives you a long, passionate kiss. For those few seconds he is able to forget everything and all he can think about is just how much he's missed you and how much he loves you. When he finally pulls away, you can see how hard he had to try to pull himself away in the first place, he missed the taste of your lips on his.

"I love you.."

You gasp against his lips when he breaks the kiss, and the way your eyes widen almost rivals the moon. The nerve of him, you thought. But when his hands reach up to cradle your jaw, you can feel the anger fizzling into pathetic dust and you pull him in for another bruising kiss.

Spencer kisses you back passionately and his arms wrap all the way around your waist in the embrace. A wave of calm crashes over him as he holds you close to him because nothing feels better in the moment than being close to you again.

After a few minutes of kissing you he pulls back just a little bit to look at you and breathlessly speak.

"I missed you," he says, a little breathless, "So much."

Your eyes are full of passion and vexation towards him and you all but growl out your words.

"Shut up and kiss me." Grabbing the collar of his dress shirt, you deal another violent kiss to him.

"Yes, ma'am."

Is all he can say as he moves in again. He had to pry your mouth away from him for air, and he leans in to kiss you again, but this time, instead of going straight for your mouth he makes his way to your neck. He’s leaning over slightly as kisses your neck, your ears, and your jaw in a playful move that has more passion behind it than playfulness, but you can still tell he is trying to tease you.

Growing impatient and letting months of pent up emotions control you, you grab his hand on your head and forcefully move it down to your ass, putting your hand overtop of his as you make him squeeze your rear.

Spencer lets out a gentle groan at the feeling of you gripped in his hand, and grabs the handful roughly, digging his fingers into the denim of your jeans.

"Now, can we talk?" His voice is gravelly and breathless.

You’re pushing his body back until the backs of his knees hit the couch, and he sits down on it. You sit down next to him and begin to kiss up his neck, one of your hands moving to hold his jaw steady.

"Go ahead.." You murmur against his neck as you press a wet and sloppy kiss against the goosebump raised skin.

Spencer lets out a small chuckle at how much you seem to be enjoying this. He's loving every second of it and he just smiles as his eyes start to go a little bit cross-eyed as he leans back into you.

"Stop that. I don't think I can hold a coherent thought like this."

His voice is half serious and half playful, still filled with the same passion and lust for you it has been the whole time.

"You're a genius, figure it out." Your voice is low and teasing as you bare your teeth against the flesh and nibble at it, leaving small, red marks.

Spencer groans a little bit as a shiver runs down his spine at the feeling of your teeth against his skin. His eyes go a little bit more cross-eyed the longer you do it to him.

"Please," His voice is a little bit breathless and it's unclear if he is asking you to stop or if he's just asking you to take a little break from it so he can finish his sentence. "I'm begging."

Despite his words, you continue to suck at his neck, determined to mark him as yours once more. He was right, you two needed to talk about it, but you were a little preoccupied at the moment. Smiling against his skin, you lick over a fresh hickey.

“Haven't changed much then, Spence.."

Spencer lets out a small noise that is part moan, part whine, and part laugh. His eyes are just about completely rolled back into his skull at this point.

"I can't talk at all while you're doing this," His voice is strained but it's clear he is trying desperately to keep a playful tone to it. "You're not going to make this easy are you?" You can hear him take a deep breath as he is just barely able to calm himself down enough to give you a warning.

"Nothing about this is easy, love.." The pet name just slips from your mouth, as if it were a habit. You don't dwell on it for too long as you lift yourself onto his lap and continue to kiss and mark his neck.

Spencer moves slightly to make it easier for you to sit on his lap and he lets out a soft sigh when he feels your weight against him and once again he can't help but smile.

"Baby," He says, his voice getting just a little bit more sincere now as he gives you a soft kiss on the cheek, "Please..." he asks one last time with pleading in his eyes.

"I have a lot to talk to you about. I'm not sure how you feel about everything but I promise it will be okay if you let me explain."

With a final press of your lips against him, you pull back and rest your hands on his shoulders.

"Speak then."

The man takes a deep breath and speaks with the most sincerity you have ever heard in his voice.

"I am truly, truly, sorry for what I did to you," His voice cracks at the end of the word ‘you’ as he gets emotional again. He takes a few more deep breaths to compose himself before tearily speaking again. You can see how much he means the things he is saying and how much it hurts him having to tell you this.

“You didn’t and don’t deserve anything I did to you. I was wrong, and I’m sorry."

You had hoped the cloud of lust that sat between the two of you was enough to distract and mask the real reason why he was here, and you sigh. The arousal in your body fades and is quickly replaced with solemnness.

"I didn't deserve it, and I so badly want to hate you, Spencer." He reaches a hand out to run through your hair as you talk, and you lean into his comforting touch. "I spent months wanting to scream at you, yell at you for how you treated me. I wasn't even going to talk to you today, really.."

At your words Spencer's eyes fill with regret. He can only imagine how hard and awful the past few months must have been for you and to know he is the one who put you through it all makes him feel like he's a monster.

"I can't blame you, I know I'm a terrible person.. I really do." Spencer's voice cracks and tears start to form in his eyes too, he looks at you with a sad, pitiful look in his eyes. "You didn't deserve any of it, baby. I don't know what I was thinking.."

You tilt your head to the side at his words and pout at the way he's putting himself down. With a slightly trembling hand, you reach to wipe the tears forming in his eyes.

"You're not a terrible person, Spence. Just.." Taking a deep breath, you actually think about your response this time. When you come to a conclusion, you don't know if it's the right one or not. "Just, promise not to do it again, alright?"

Spencer watches you as you wipe away the tears that have formed in his eyes. He looks up and meets your eyes with some of the most pure love and devotion he has ever had. He slowly nods his head in agreement as a small smile starts to form on his face at your response.

"I promise, my love... I will do anything to make up for what I've done."

His words are filled with so much love and compassion it almost seems impossible that he is the same man who hurt you so many months ago.

You slowly nod and swallow, and try to push away the already rising feelings of sadness and regret.

"Can I kiss you without being interrupted, now?"

Spencer chuckles a little and nods.

"Of course you can... I've been dying for one." He gives you a playful wink and a playful shove to your shoulder before turning to kiss you deeply. When he pulls away his eyes are filled with the same passion and desire you have always loved, and a bit of the same lust you felt earlier as well. He smiles at you as he leans back on the couch and wraps his hands on your hips.

"Come closer. I've missed you so much."

A warm feeling fills your body at his words and you grab the back of his head to tug him into a hot and heavy kiss, full of pent up emotions of anger, lust, love, and hurt.

Spencer moves in for the kiss with just as much desire and lust as you. He lets out a small, playful moan as you pull on his hair, he grabs your waist as you kiss him and a small smile forms on his mouth.

As your lips break apart he catches his breath for a minute but he seems unable to resist you for too long as he pulls you in again for another kiss, this one even stronger than the one before and his hands start to wander under your clothes to the small of your back. Just one moment seems to be too long without his arms around you and his lips on yours.

A sigh of satisfaction pours from your mouth into his, and the feeling of his hands on your bare skin was a sensation you've gone far too long without. His fingers swirling up the flesh of your back feels like it's burning you in the best way, and you're all too eager to finally connect with him again.

Moving your hands to take off your shirt, you pull away from the kiss, much to his disappointment. As you tug the fabric off your body and over your head, you're left in your bra and jeans as you look up at him through long lashes and sultry eyes.

Spencer gasps at the sight of you and it takes all of his restraint not to just pounce you like an animal. A grin washes across his face and that devilish glint returns to his eyes once more.

“You are more beautiful than I ever remembered,” He says in a way that is both flirtatious but also full of love and adoration. He smiles as he looks up at you.

“Will you allow me the honor of taking those off of you?”

"Please.." Is all you can mewl out, lust washing over your entire body, just ready to be his again.

At your words, Spencer's eyes light up with excitement and he smiles widely before getting off the couch and kneeling down in front of you. He slowly reaches out to the clasp of your bra and undoes it before slowly sliding it down your arms and off of you. He doesn't even try to hide his joy, it's evident in just how much he's smiling and the glimmer in his eye.

"You're still so perfect, my love... Just like a goddess." He whispers as he reaches to undo your jeans and unzip them.

You lift your bottom a bit off the couch to help him pull your pants down your legs, moaning softly at the cool air hitting your skin. Your arms cross over your chest, not used to being exposed like this after so long.

Spencer can't take his eyes away from you as he takes in your body again and a deep, content sigh escapes his lips as he looks at you.

"God.. You're more beautiful than I ever thought was possible," He whispers in amazement as his eyes take in your exposed body. "And you're just as beautiful on the inside too. I’m sorry it took me so long to understand that.."

You can feel your breath hitching at his words, and a warm blush spreads over your cheeks, and you slowly lower your hands from over your chest, and rest them next to your bare thighs. You're only left in your panties now, sitting on the couch as he's kneeling in front of you.

Spencer's heart speeds up and he breathes heavily as he takes in the view in front of him. It's almost a little overwhelming, but all he can manage to do is take it in and admire you as he is left speechless for a moment. Finally, he comes to and he slowly moves in to touch your thighs. He takes his time and caresses them softly with his fingertips.

At his soft soft, you flinch slightly before letting your body relax. You trusted him, even after so long.

You can see the care and love in every soft caress that Spencer deals to your delicate body. His slow, steady touch is done with an intensity and a passion that almost seems to radiate off of him and you can feel it as his fingertips glide over the skin of your thighs. You don't know if you have ever felt someone be so delicate, slow, and methodical with something before but it’s beautiful, almost like he was dealing with a piece of art.

Subconsciously, you feel yourself slowly spreading your legs as you watch his large hands move towards your body, and take the bands of your underwear in his fingers. He looks up at you for approval.

Spencer's breath catches in his throat and you can see his jaw practically hanging open as he's overwhelmed by the view that's in front of him. "You're beautiful, darling.." He says like it's a prayer. He lets out a soft sigh, and he nods in approval before slowly taking the bands off and peeling them down your legs.

You moan now that you're fully exposed in front of him, and all previous confidence you had in you has completely dissipated under his intense glare. Once the air flushes against your bare, soaked cunt, it makes you shudder with a shiver.

Spencer's eyes narrow down on you and they burn with passion and emotion at seeing you there on the couch in front of him, all spread out and ready for him. He's lost in you for a minute and you can see it as his breath hitches and his jaw is still hanging half open. He still moves with deliberate, slow, and gentle touches as he moves his hand to the top of your thigh.

"Baby.. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He whispers breathless, almost as though he is stunned by just the sight of you.

Moving your legs, you hook your calf around the back of his head, pulling him closer to your spread thighs, and there's a devilish smirk on your face.

He’s caught aback by how you pull him closer to your core and his eyes go wide at the gesture. He seems a little bit surprised but in the end he doesn't argue, instead he lets out a small chuckle and moves in closer to the point that the front of his face is pressed up against your thighs.

"What are you doing to me, love?" He asks innocently with a smirk of his own as he looks up at you with an amused smile on his face. His warm breath is ghosting over your glistening hole, and it makes you all the more desperate for him.

“Making up for lost time.”

You pull him in closer with your leg latched around him, urging him to get on with it already. You hadn’t slept with anyone since the two of you broke up, and you never really had time to take care of yourself. But that’s what he was there for.

“Guess I better get to work, then..”

Spencer huskily spoke before leaning down and encasing your puffy clit between his spit slicked lips. The sensation instantly made you arch your back and jolt away from him, but he was quick to wrap his hands and arms under your thighs and over your hips, forcing you closer.

As he pulls you closer, his long wet tongue peeks out from his mouth and licks a broad stripe up your cunt, tasting just how much you missed him. With each lick, he was lapping up at your juices like a man starved, moaning at the way your slick coated his tongue.

Your lips were parted in a high pitched mewl, and you squeezed his head tighter with your legs. It made him dizzy, being suffocated by your shaking thighs and your gushing pussy, and he couldn’t have asked to be anywhere better.

The wet muscle between your folds was pistoning in and out of you like heavy machinery, working you just the way you needed. You could feel your cunt contracting around him, further gushing your arousal on his tongue.

Spencer was breathlessly moaning into your core, not being able to contain it. He was agonizingly hard in his pants, and it took everything in him to pry himself away from you. When he does, he deals one last slow, tortuous lick up your folds, before licking his lips and backing away.

You look up at him with pleading eyes, and he was already working on lifting you from the couch, quickly making his way into the hallway and where he knew your bedroom was.

You could feel your still soaked cunt rubbing against the silky fabric of his shirt, and couldn't help but grind your hips down against it. You had been so touch starved, that even this tiny bit of satisfaction made your breath catch in your throat.

He gently laid you down on the bed, making sure your head was rested against a pillow, before he practically tore the buttons off his shirt trying to take it off. And his pants were no different, the leather of his belt slid against the fabric of his dress pants, and as soon as you heard a small clank of metal against your floor, his pants followed suit.

When he was fully undressed, and crawled over your body until he was caging you underneath him, and the sight of his slightly sweaty hair falling over his face made your chest heavy with emotion.

Spencer leans down to kiss a line from your chin to your jaw, before stopping at your ear and lowly whispering into it.

“Think you can let me take care of you again, like old times?”

And it’s almost like his voice has put you under a trance, because before he can even finish, you’re nodding. It didn’t matter what he asked of you, you’d always say yes.

He lifts himself away from you with a small mirrored nod, before hoisting you by your waist and flipping your pliant body around, and propping a pillow under your stomach and hips.

The cool material pressed against your sweat sheened skin made you sigh, and his rough hands traced over the curves of your hips and ass like he was trying to relive all the nights that he used to have you like this; plush ass bent over in front of him, soaked cunt begging for attention, spread legs practically inviting him between them.

He swallows at the memories, and has a hard time convincing himself this is actually happening again. But he doesn’t dwell on it for too long, whether or not you’re really in front of him, or he’s just dreaming again, he can’t leave you like this. He loves you too much.

Trembling hands find the heavy bobbing length of his cock, and he grabs himself at the base, shakily squeezing in order to urge himself to not cum immediately. You deserved better than that. You deserved so much better than everything he could give you, and he promised himself he’d somehow redeem himself.

There wasn’t a better time to start than now, he thinks to himself as he tilts his hips forward to rub the leaking tip of his member against the silky folds of your cunt. And thank goodness he’s kneeling, because the second he felt soft, wet flesh against him, he would’ve collapsed.

“G-God.. Missed this..”

You lift your head slightly from where it’s pressed against the pillow, and look back at him with a lazy smile. Your voice is slighted muffled against the fabric, but he understands you.

“Didn’t get laid over the summer, Spence?”

You lift your ass higher, arching your back further so he would get the memo to fuck you already, and with a shake of his head and the cant of his hips, he’s easing himself inside of you, inch by inch.

“N-No.. Was always yours, love.”

The smile slowly falls from your face and you turn back around to bury your face in the pillow, trying to play it off with a pleasured sigh.

The two of you had stayed loyal to one another, despite everything. The thought made your heart swell and your cunt clench. He was unmistakably yours, and he always would be, no matter what.

The squeeze of your hole around him forced him inside of you quicker than he had planned on, and he had to bite his lip, breaking skin, to stop himself from finishing right there and then. He grunted as he tried to regain control over himself, and pushed himself the rest of the way inside of you.

When he was buried to the hilt inside of you, your eyes rolled back into your skull and you bit at the pillow to stop yourself from screaming. He filled you so perfectly, just as he used to. It felt right, like he belonged nowhere else but entirely swallowed by your cunt.

Spencer mutters out a few curses to himself before he’s draping himself over your body, pressing his firm chest against your damp back. His mouth is right by your ear, and you move your head to the side a bit to hear him better.

And hear him better you definitely do. You can feel the heave of his chest as he breathlessly begins to withdraw his cock from inside of you. The rub of his veiny, long length dragging along your soft walls had you cursing like a sailor.

As his breaths and moans quicken, so does the shove of his hips against your ass. He was so deep inside of you it was a miracle he was even able to pull himself out of you, but he managed to do it just fine. There were no complaints from you whatsoever as you felt him imprint the image of his tip right against your spot with every thrust he dealt to you.

Your hands were planted out in front of you, gripping at the fabric of the comforter when his own came and fully encompassed them. Spencer intertwined your fingers together as the visceral sound of your pussy sucking him deeper and deeper filled your ears.

Every time he humped into you, your clit brushed against the pillow, and it only made your cries of pleasure grow louder. The friction was dizzying, and you unknowingly clench around him impossibly tighter.

And he just about loses his mind at that moment. When he’s sucked flush against your body, he goes cross eyed and squeezes your hands in his, as if trying to ground himself. A guttural groan leaves him and it’s a few more moments before he’s panting in your ear as he starts to move once more.

He pulled back his hips to let his cock slide halfway out of you, before forcing himself back into that tight drenched cunt of yours. You can feel the spurt of arousal that leaks out of you at the force of his thrust, and you writhed at the feeling.

Your body shakes underneath his as the combined feeling of grinding yourself down against the pillow and how deliciously his length abused your cervix and puffy folds drives you mad. You were gasping for air, trading your desperate moans and whines for a chance at breathing.

“Sp-Spence.. Baby–please.”

There wasn’t one single thought in your brain that knew what you were begging for, but somehow, Spencer knew exactly what to give you.

“L-Love you so much, sweet thing..”

He moans out to you, then he leans down unbelievably closer to you. He lets go of one of your hands to wrap his own around your neck, grabbing at your throat as gently as he can to urge your face up to kiss him.

It’s a little hard to catch his lips with yours, as with each plow into you sent your body forward, along with how heavily he was breathing. But when you do, the two of you seal your lips together in a passionate, burning kiss.

His grip around your throat tightens a bit, and it’s enough to entirely set you off the edge. With one more ground of your hips against the pillow, and one more stamp of his cock against that little spongy spot inside of you, you’re suddenly soaking everything around you.

The wet noise of your release is all you and him can hear, as you’re spraying your arousal all over his hips, his cock, your thighs, and those poor sheets underneath the two of you. Your eyes cross almost comically at the feeling of your orgasm rushing through you, and Spencer is doing no better.

As he feels you squirt all over him, he curses into your ear and his entire body goes rigid. His hips still and he pushes himself as deep as he can possibly get before dumping everything he’s worth right into your soaked velvet core, sending ribbon after ribbon of his cum right against your cervix.

“F-Fuck.. Fuck.. fuck..”

All you can think about is how full you are. His cock is miraculously still hard inside of you, even though he’s emptied everything he’s got into you, and his thick cum is practically fighting for any room left you’ve got inside you.

Wet. Wet would be the only word to describe the scene you’ve found yourself in. Your body goes limp against the soaked bed, and his sweat drenched body finds itself at the same fate as he collapses against you. The hand around your throat loosens and snakes its way back to your lonely hand, intertwining them once again.

The both of you are panting against each other's faces for god knows how long, and neither of you have moved a muscle. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, running down the expanse of your thighs to join the puddles of your own arousal that pool against the bed.

With a groan, he slowly pulled out of you, and it was like pulling the plug to a well, because the second his cock left your hole, a gush of a mixture of your arousals flowed out of you.

He chuckles at the sight, while you just moan softly. Spencer lays down right next to you and pulls your body against his, so you’re chest to chest. He reaches to move your sweaty hair out of your face, pressing a warm kiss against your sticky cheek. When he speaks, his voice is strained and you wouldn’t be surprised if he had lost his voice.

“You know, he was talking about you during class today..”

The slight rasp and squeak in his voice is problematically attractive to you, but you don’t think you could deal with another orgasm after flooding your own bed.

You shake your head and groan softly at his words.

“Oh god, what’d he say?”

“He kept saying to everyone, ‘Mr.Reid is Mommy’s boyfriend!’”

The tone in his voice heightens as he tries his best to imitate your son's words. You groan again and close your eyes.

“And I’m guessing you didn’t say anything to him about it?”

Your voice is strained and laced with faux annoyance, but he sees right through it. Spencer huffs out a small laugh and presses a kiss to your forehead. With the arm that’s holding you against him, he squeezes your shoulders lightly, as if to tease you.

“Course I didn’t, can’t embarrass him like that..”

Rolling your eyes, you sigh and he pulls you closer to him as you shake your head.

“You’re the worst, I hope you know.” Your tone is playful and teasing, but you can feel yourself relaxing in his hold, allowing yourself to savor the moment for the time being.

“Maybe, but at least I’m ‘Mommy’s boyfriend’ again..”

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #dom spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #dom spencer reid x reader #dom!spencer #dom!spencer reid #soft dom spencer reid #dom spencer #spencer reid angst

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fanaticsnail · 3 months ago

Text

Boot Worship: Sanji

Birthday Celebration Masterlist

Word count: 3,100+

Themes: Sanji x m!reader, boot worship, angst, established relationship, jealousy, hurt/comfort, love, oral, boot humping, sub Sanji.

Notes: This is my first official Tumblr mlm smut fic! I hope you enjoy Sanji in love like this. This fic is dedicated to @categoryace! Happy birthday, love. Enjoy the cook on your special day 🖤🖤🖤

Another day, another town, another marketplace where your boyfriend put on his best flirtatious and charismatic personality to woo beautiful women into falling for his charms. No matter where you turned, there he was: Black Leg Sanji, waltzing around like a love-sick child, gushing over every pretty lady he witnessed.

“Oh no, madamoiselle, that is not for you. A flower like you deserves something far sweeter,” he coos up at a woman you cared not to truly pay attention to. If it wasn't enough hearing him sing melody's in worship of feminine beauty, the fact that you were a man made the wound all the deeper and tasting more bitter.

You had always known you were gay. All your life, you were attracted to men. Respected women and what they stood for, but they never awoke any feelings of romantic intention or interest from you. Being a gay man in love with a bisexual was sure to have its complexities, especially with one that would flirt with a femininely shaped shrubbery if given the correct alcohol to blood ratio.

Yet, here he was: the love of your life, flirting and cooing at a woman that giggled and swooned at his every quick quip and witty retort.

And you had simply had enough.

With a disgruntled click of your tongue and curl of your upper lip, you slung the satchel full of groceries over Sanji’s shoulder in a huff. He hastily turned his head with his eyes wide with shock, his breath catching, and shoulder slouching beneath the new weight added onto him. Reaching down to catch your hand with his own, you quickly ripped it away from him without sparing him a simple glance.

Turning immediately on your boot heel back towards the tavern where Zoro would likely be either drinking or sleeping, you don't utter a single word to your partner as you briskly walk in the opposite direction.

“Mon amour? Mon amour, wait-!” Sanji’s voice called behind you, but you made no effort to heed to his commands. Jealousy had finally reared its ugly head and you simply couldn't take a further moment of witnessing his infatuation any longer.

Although you heard an exchange of Berry occuring behind you, the jingle of coins spilling and a soft whisper of, “merde,” being an indication that Sanji was finally doing his job appropriately, you couldn't care less to halt your tracks and wait for him to catch up to you. The one thing on your mind was to put as much distance between you and Sanji as you could while getting nearer to the tavern you would be staying in for the evening.

Upon reaching the double-swinging wooden doors, you pushed yourself through the threshold and immediately drew yourself towards the barkeep. Noticing Zoro holding a polite conversation with the man over a bottle of sake, you smiled as politely as you could while seething with rage at them both.

“Something to drink, lad?” The bartender asked you with a friendly ease in his tone, “Sake, rum, I've got some bourbon if you would prefer it?” His eyes held a twinkle that seemed to manage to sate your rage, but you still felt the simmer swirling beneath the surface.

“No, just a room key,” you nod at him, turning then to Zoro and giving him a soft scowl, “You actually managed to do your job, moss, or just sat here drinking all day? I don't have to organise anything for our stay, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I did my job,” Zoro chuckled, raising his polished ceramic short-glass to his lips and smiled into it, “I'm not just a pretty face.”

“Barely a pretty face at all,” you chuckle in return, nudging your shoulder against his playfully. “Who am I bunking with?”

No sooner than you asked your question did Sanji enter the door with an exhausted huff. Bracing both of his hands on the wooden slats, he panted with his blue shirt a little more unravelled, and his hair deshevled and messy.

“Didn't even have to call the love-cook’s to summon him this time,” Zoro uttered with a roll of his eyes, “You're still seeing him, right?” Zoro offered you the key the barkeeper granted him earlier and you snatched it with your anger once again returning.

“Unfortunately,” you snarl at him. Sanji’s lip quivered, his head down turned and somber while his eyes never left yours.

“Sayin’ I've still got a chance to bunk with you?” Zoro tilted his head, angling his chin up and peering down at you with intrigue, “Could give Luffy your key when he stops eating, and we could enjoy some time together.” You shake your head with a smile pulling on your lips, avoiding his eyes and laughing through your nose.

“Zoro, that's nice and all,” you return your eyes back to him, “But I'm loyal. The cook is my person, and regardless as to how fucking angry I'm feeling right now-.” You heard the doors swing and flutter at the front of the tavern, prompting you to draw your attention back to Sanji, who was struggling to maintain the weight of the amount of stock he's encumbered with.

“...He's still my idiot.”

Giving the swordsman a nod of your head to bid your farewell, you turn to the barkeeper and offer him the same. Sanji stumbled over his lanky legs while attempting to reach you, but you paid him little mind. Walking up the stairs behind the bar, you couldn't ignore the jab Zoro offered your partner while you left.

“Keep it up, Curly,” Zoro chuckled, pouring himself another cupful of sake and gesturing for another bottle, “You’re one fuck-up away from being put in the dog house, and me let into the main mansion.”

“You're not even fucking housebroken, Mosshead!” Sanji growled in response, dropping the supplies at his feet and butting his forehead against the swordsman. “You stay away from my boyfriend, you got that? Do I need to say it louder to get it through your thick head?”

Scoffing, you continued to walk up the stairs to your allocated room and snarled at the lock. Quickly slotting your key into the lock, you turned and clicked the latch to allow you entry. Stepping within, you closed the door immediately behind you, simply ignoring the hasty thumps of Sanji’s heeled boots hitting the wooden floorboards.

As soon as you closed the door, it was swung wide and messily with your chef angrily panting. Chest heaving, he hastily swept across the room and made to bring his hands up to cup your cheeks and hold you close. Scoffing and shrugging away, you turn to face the window and shake your head at him.

“Mon amour, please,” he sighed, his voice coming out with a small hitched crackle, “You know I just play. Women are my weakness, please.” He made to lace his fingers with yours, only resulting in you flinching and recoiling from his touch.

“I would never act on anything,” he whispered softly, trying again to obtain your eyes and ease your mind, “You’re my one and only.” He softly pinched the sleeve of your shirt in the corner of your elbow join, rolling it between his thumb and index finger.

“Cook,” you utter gruffly, feeling the emotions once again rise in your chest and choke your heart swelling in your throat.

“Mon cœur,” he responded in a soft whisper. He slowly pressed his lips to your shoulder, barely caressing the material with a soft kiss. Moving to press his chest flush with your back, you moved once more to shrug him off, only to find his insistence waiting to sate your rage.

“Please,” he breathed his soft plea out, his eyes half-lidded and full of sorrow, “Please, I'm sorry. I know I can be unhinged, but I promise, I'm yours.” He pressed his lips against your neck, tasting your pulse with his intense promise.

“You don't know how long I loved you for, Sanji,” you utter, fluttering your eyes closed and gulping back your emotions. Your Adams apple bobbed as Sanji’s lips found the soft curve beneath your jaw that brings weakness to your knees.

“I do,” he whined against you, “And I know it took me longer to admit my own feelings for you, but I-...” Sanji felt his eyes eyes well up, overcome with the need to express his heart and carve it into your memory.

“Mon amour, I love you,” he confessed, finally surging forward with his brows furrowed and pressing his forehead flush with yours with a sob sniffling out with his emotional expression. “The very air I breathe in your presence is enough to fuel me for a century,” he pressed his lips to the corner of your own to stamp it in solidarity.

“Is that so?” You feel your smile tug at the corner of your lips, finally returning to you with each soft kiss and whisper from your lover.

“Yes,” he breathily confessed against your skin, moving his hands beneath the tail of shirt tucked into your pants. Drawing up his hand, he caresses your stomach before moving up to your pectorals, “I love you. I worship the very ground you walk on.”

He pressed his crotch against yours, his cock brushing against the bone pressing out at your hip. Continuing to move up and caress your skin with his hands, he gently thumbs over your pebbled nipples while his lips and teeth suck and bite at your skin. Rocking his hips against yours, you feel need begin to twitch in your briefs and swell your shaft with a wave of arousal.

“The ground I walk on,” you chuckle, eyes fluttered shut and enjoying the dance his fingers displayed against your skin, “Or the boots that carry me there?” Sanji chuckled against your neck, nibbling at your pulse before pulling away to meet your eyes with his own.

“They are really good-looking boots,” he complimented you, shifting his eyes lovingly down at your shoes while unbuttoning your shirt. “I have always adored your boots, mon amour.” He popped several more buttons, his hands now lingering at your collar. “I would kiss them, if you'd let me. Would that be enough of an apology for my abraisiveness and incompetence earlier?”

“Sanji,” you roll your eyes before an idea springs to the forefront of your mind, “The only way I'm going to offer you forgiveness, is if you drop to your knees and fuck them at this stage.” Sanji halted his quivering fingers at your collar, tugging firmly on the final button while his eyes spring wide in shock.

While Sanji remained frozen, movement below his belt shocked you more than he seemed to demonstrate on his face. Sanji’s cock was as solid as a steel polearm, dampening his suit-pants with a large patch of arousal seeping through his cockhead.

“You…” you began, attempting to catch yourself and Sanji back in the moment. Sanji’s face swelled with a vibrant shade of red, his nose beginning to expel a small stream of blood as he attempted to maintain composure. “Oh, Sanji…”

The cook shook his head, attempting to catch himself and deny what his body reacted to immediatly. Refusing to allow this moment to shift from you, you immediately thrust your hand below his waistline and girdled his cock with a firm grip.

“Sanji, get on your knees,” you whisper into his ear, his breath hitching immediately to your order, “And take off your pants and briefs on the way down.”

“Mon amour-,” he attempted to halt you, but you spoke above him.

“-This is the only way I'll forgive you, cook,” you quip softly, your sinister smirk rising in the corners of your mouth, “Pants off, and you're going to grind on my boots until you cum.”

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered, immediately reaching for his belt buckle and hastily removing his pants from his hips with a soft shimmy. You removed your hand from his extremely hard cock, watching as he shrugged his own blue-shirt hastily from his shoulders. Popping each button clumsily, Sanji messily crumpled his dress shirt on the floor at the same time that you nearly removed yours.

“All naked, hm? Feeling exposed?” you quipped at him, collecting his whiskered chin beneath your hand and bringing his lips an eyelashes’ length away from connecting to your own, “On your knees, Sanji.”

Sanji dropped carelessly to his knees, one falling on each side of your boot. Stradling your foot, his throbbing and desperate cock brushed it's frenulum against the material and twitched immediately upon impact. His hands moved up to your belt, softly popping the crotch and moving to remove your own cock from within your pants.

“And just what do you think you are doing, my heart?” you arch your brow up at him, teasing as you look down your nose towards the blonde at your feet. “Something you need-?”

“-Let me suck your cock,” his demand fled his lips while his fingers continued to move quickly below your belt, “Give it to me, I need to please you. I need to show you how much you mean to me.” You gently reach down and cup his cheek, checking in with his expression as his eyes swelled black with lust.

“I just want you,” he whimpered, slowly drawing your cock out of your pants and giving it a few pumps to test your resolve. At each roll of your velvety shaft behind his circular grip, he bucked his hips against your boot. Already sobbing, Sanji whimpered as his cock began to leak sticky pears of precum onto your shoes.

“Because you asked so nicely,” you smile down at him, guiding his face towards your cock. He obediently parted his lips and swirled his tongue over your tip, feeling his oral frenulum piercing make contact against your sensitive head.

Breath hitching in your throat, Sanji began to bob his head and taking half your length into his throat while bucking against your boot. Rolling his hips, he desperately whimpered and sobbed at the sensation of his overly sensitive and pulsating shaft making contact with his lover’s shoe.

Everything about Sanji’s mouth was talented and hot. From his quick wit, to his sensitive palate, to his romantic and emotional kisses, to the way his lips formed that perfect ring around your shaft. You began to buck in time with his own crude grinding, feeling yourself grow closer to your release the longer he moaned and cried against you.

Sanji’s arms circled your thigh as he swallowed around your cock, taking in your entire length with his nose brushing against the base of your stomach. Drawing your hand up to Sanji's head, you pushed his bangs back and gripped onto his golden locks while he humped your boot with renewed vigor. You could see several strings of his precum dampening your shoe with his desire, his whines and sputters choking on your cock all informing you how close he was to cumming.

“You gonna cum, my heart?” you coo down at him, attempting to ignore the way your voice comes as more of a whine than the dominant way you wanted it to. Sanji nodded, choking and drooling messily on your cock while his hips began to become desperate and unsyncopated.

“Mmmphgh-!” Sanji warned you, swallowing and desperately choking himself on your cock while his cock began to release a large stream of pearlescent cum against your boot. Several waves of uncoiling ropes dampened your boot while few spurs seeped onto your pants.

Sanji's moans and choked sobs vibrated against your cock, your own release beginning to swell in your abdomen. While Sanji’s hips stuttered, he chose to focus completely on chasing your release by lulling his tongue and fucking your cock with his face.

Just as Sanji’s release finished, yours began. Sanji looked up at you through his blonde lashes, eyes rolling as you painted the insides of his throat with hot splashes of your viscous release. He hollowed his cheeks and swallowed around your shaft, allowing you to guide his head to ride through your high.

“S-Sanji, fuck-! I-I’m cumming. Oh mmmghhh- fuck!” With your hands in his hair, you fucked his mouth with a few heavy thrusts while groaning out his name. You released his hair and slipped your hand down to cup his cheek, gazing down at him with nothing but love on your face.

As you finished, you felt your oversensitive and deflating cock shudder between his lips, prompting the love-cook to give you one more playful pump with his lips before pulling away.

Tilting his head up, he lulls his tongue out to demonstrate the absence of your cum on his palate, swallowing your hot load while your boot was covered in his.

“Am I forgiven, then?” Sanji asked, lulling his tongue back inside his lips and gazing up at you as if you were the embodiment of mercy. Aiding him to his feet on wobbly legs, you press your forehead against his and circle your arms over his bare shoulders with a soft nod.

Catching your hips with his hands, he rakes the skin of your lower back within his hands and breathes in your air with his brows furrowed in passion and concentration.

“I love you, mon amour,” he whispered more intimately than the moment you just shared together, “I will do better by you. I promise, I will.”

“I know, my heart,” you return his whisper in a tone just as filled with passionate intimacy. “You can't help what's a part of you, but it does make me jealous from time to time.” Sanji smiled somberly, gently tilting his head up to press his lips to the center of your forehead.

“Any time you get jealous of me flirting with a woman,” Sanji uttered with resolve against your skin, pulling away only to gaze into your eyes, “I will let you do anything you want to me. Anything in the world. Take it out on me in any way you truly desire. I'll do anything.” You chuckled, prompting him to do the same.

His eyes crincled in the corners of his face, and you saw your entire world in that soft smile you shared with him.

“I'll hold you to that,” you nod at him, gently drawing his lips towards yours.

“You can hold me against anything, mon amour,” he laughed breathily while drawing his lips ever nearer, “All I ask is you stay with me, despite my flaws.”

“And you with me despite mine,” you whisper in reaponse, finally claiming your lover’s lips beneath your own in a passionate exchange of hardened resolution. You sealed your promise to one another in that heated kiss, allowing Sanji to lead you towards the bed behind you and pushing gently against your chest to lay you both down against the mattress.

Sanji was your partner, a man you would see yourself standing side by side against any enemy Luffy needed to face to achieve his goals. He was your person, and despite his constant flirting with women: his heart, mind, body, and soul was pledged to you in that very moment.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @jadeddangel

🎶"Happy Birthday to Me"🎶

If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.

#one piece #x reader #2024 birthday event #sanji #op sanji #black leg sanji #x m!reader #sanji smut #one piece smut #op smut #sanji x reader #one piece sanji

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