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starkeysprincess · 2 months

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friends with benefits

pairing: bsf!rafe x reader word count: 1.5k warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, daddy kink, unprotected sex, pull-out method (that needs it's own warning tbh), praise, 18+ minors dni a/n: req from nonnie, "please write some bsf!rafe smut, they are like childhood bsf but started becoming friends with benefits as they got older" +i had a vision so this is (kinda) a sequel to dry humping bsf!rafe

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You and Rafe have known each other since you were kids because your parents were friends. Your parents used to talk about how great it would be if they lived next door to each other. One day, an opportunity appeared when the neighbor next door to the Cameron's decided to sell their house. Of course, your parents were quick to jump and make an offer on the house and that's how you landed living next door to Rafe Cameron, your childhood best friend.

You guys constantly hung out, practically glued to the hip. The two of you would often go to parties together and occasionally go for rides on Rafe’s bike, and he was almost over at your house nearly every day. As frequently as the two of you hung out, there was one tradition both of you favored the most. That tradition involves swimming and ending the night with a movie marathon, which you are currently doing.

Merely just a little over a month ago, he helped give you your first orgasm, simply by sitting on his lap and dry-humping him like you were in heat. Ever since that day anytime you needed relief, Rafe was there to help, whether with his fingers or mouth.

You weren’t sure what to label what the two of you had going on, especially when you would attempt to return the favor by either giving him a handjob or sucking him off, to which, he’d turn you down, telling you that he doesn’t want anything in return.

Well, you guess you could label it as friends with benefits, except the only one benefitting from it would be you. At least, that’s what you thought, but the truth is, Rafe was benefitting a lot from it, he loved nothing more than pleasing you, making you feel good till you’re reduced to nothing but a whining mess.

Both of you were sprawled out on your bed, a random movie playing as his arm was wrapped around your waist, your back flushed against his chest. Throughout the entire day, your pussy has been throbbing, aching for any sort of relief. This caused you to be squirming around, pressing your thighs together, all while huffing from being sexually frustrated.

Rafe grew accustomed to your body language, specifically when you were horny. Unsurprisingly, he immediately picked up on how you were acting, but, you weren’t exactly subtle with the way you were grinding your ass against him. You can feel the tent in his pants poking against your ass as he lets out a low groan, “Jesus, are you that fuckin’ desperate that you can’t stop squirming around?”.

You mutter under your breath, causing him to reach around, squishing your cheeks as he turns your head to face him, “Either use that pretty mouth of yours or you can keep huffin’ and puffin’, princess”.

You groan before letting out a small ‘yes’ in response, to which, he snorts, “Yes? Yes what?”. You push your bottom lip out, “Yes, I’m that desperate…I need to cum”. A small smirk appears on his face, “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”.

You roll your eyes at his cockiness as he pushes you to lay on your back, hands moving up and down the sides of your waist. His hands move lower to pat your thigh, signaling for you to lift your hips and once you do, he’s tugging at your shorts, tossing them to the side.

He parts your thighs, spreading them wide before moving to slot himself between them. “Shit, would you look at that? You’re fuckin’ soaked through your panties” he groans to himself, his eyes fixated on the mess that’s pooled in your panties.

He’s planting kisses along your inner thighs, making his way towards your clothed cunt. Rafe’s fingers found their way to the waistband of your panties, hooking themselves under before sliding them off of you, revealing your glistening folds. “Can never get over how pretty your pussy is” he mutters to himself, leaning forward to lick a strip against your folds. He hooks both of his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer till his face is buried against your slick cunt.

You can feel him grinning to himself when you let out a squeal as his tongue delves deep inside you. His grip tightens on your thighs, pinning them down, and his tongue eagerly moves in and out of you as you grind your cunt against his mouth. “S-shit, Rafe” you whine, hands tugging at the roots of his hair, earning a groan from him. His tongue moves to flick against your pulsing clit and you moan when his lips wrap around your clit, sucking lightly.

He unwraps one arm from under your thigh, hand moving between your legs and his thick middle and ring finger prodding at your hole before sliding in, knuckles deep inside of you. His fingers pump in and out of you while his tongue swirls and flicks at your clit. The combination of his fingers and his tongue on you, have you crying out in pleasure, your back arching off the mattress.

You’re grinding against his mouth and fingers, desperately and selfishly needing more than what he’s giving you but it’s not enough. “Fuck, Rafe…please, I need you” you whine, making him pull his mouth off your clit, looking up at you, “You have me, princess”.

“S’not enough” you whimper, “Need more…I need your cock inside of me. Please, daddy”. Rafe’s cock twitches in his shorts, his eyes darken the second you call him ‘daddy’ and he’s sliding his fingers out of you, sucking his arousal-coated fingers as he moves away from between your legs. He stands up, swiftly pulling his shorts and boxers down, kicking them somewhere before climbing back onto your bed. His lips attach to your neck, sucking bruises into your flesh while his palms push your thighs flat against the mattress, holding them down.

He pulls away from your neck, admiring the marks starting to form. He wraps his hand around his shaft, teasingly sliding his cock up and down your folds, “Need me stuffed inside of you that bad? Beg for it. Beg for daddy’s cock, princess”. You writhe under him when he repeatedly taps the head of his cock on your clit, causing you to whine and plead. Tears are practically welling in your eyes from how much you need him, your pussy aching for him, and only him.

“Don’t worry, princess, daddy’s gonna give you exactly what you’re needy for” he coos, you gasp when you feel him sliding his thick cock into you, stretching your cunt the more he sinks inside of you. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight” he grunts, slowly thrusting in and out of you, “Would’ve fucked you sooner if I knew your pussy feels like heaven”.

His large hand snakes up your body to wrap around your throat as he starts fucking you harder. Your hand moves to rest on his hand that’s wrapped around your throat, squeezing it to urge him to tighten his grip on your neck. He squeezes your neck firmly, groaning when your walls flutter around him, encouraging him to snap his hips into yours harder. “Oh fuck…just like that” you mewl and he leans down, pressing his lips to yours, “Doing so good f’me, princess”.

“You feel so good wrapped around me” he moans into your mouth, “Takin’ me so well like I knew you would”. His free hand grabs at your thigh, hooking it around his waist, allowing him to fuck into you at a deeper angle. He breaks the kiss to watch your face contort in pleasure, your eyes fluttering shut, to which he lightly taps your face, “Keep your eyes on me. Show daddy who’s makin’ you feel good, yeah?”.

You wrap your other leg around his waist, making him thrust into you deeper than before. “Y-yes daddy” you can’t help but whine, the tip of his cock repetitively hitting your sweet spot. He releases his hold on your neck, slipping his hand between the two of you, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing steady circles. Your hands wrap around him, nails scraping against his muscular back. You’re a whimpering mess, eyes glued to his and he can see the fucked-out expression on your face as you struggle to keep your eyes on him.

His thumb circles your clit faster and he quickens his thrusts, his hips snapping against yours harshly as he feels you clamping down on him, signaling that you’re close. “Gonna cum f’me, princess?” he growls, “C’mon, let me know how good I’m fuckin’ you, cream all over daddy’s cock”.

Your legs tremble as they tighten around his waist, eyes rolling to the back of your skull, crying out his name as you throw your head back against the plush pillows. Your orgasm triggers his own, his thrusts becoming sloppy before he’s pulling out and you’re quick to wrap your small hand around him, giving his length a few pumps. Grunts and moans leave his mouth as he comes, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach white.

The two of you are a panting mess and he watches as you use your fingers to swipe and collect some of his cum, bringing it to your mouth. You hold eye contact with him, licking his cum off your fingers, humming at the taste of him.

“Look so fuckin’ pretty covered in my cum” Rafe groans, “But your pussy would look better filled with it”.

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 18 days

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Birds Of A Feather

Rating: Teen Pairing: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Words Count: 5,320 Summary: Your four hour flight home to Philadelphia turns into a 24 hour trip where you're marooned in the St. Louis airport thanks to a snowstorm. You and Joel Miller, the handsome man you just met on your flight, keep each other company. Warnings: fluff, like the amount of fluff inside of a 7 foot tall stuffed bear fluff, snow storm, pov switching, cinnamon rolls and apple juice, flight anxiety, comfort, kinda soulmate vibes, good dad joel, proud dad joel, sarah's in college, reader is an interior designer from philadelphia, the whole one bed in the hotel room trope as well, nothing bad happens to joel miller in this house, lying for a ticket.

A/N: This was written for @burntheedges' Roll A Trope Challenge. I received snowed in and thanks to the always lovely @maggiemayhemnj she helped me with suggesting snowed in at an airport. This is very very soft and cute, I hope you enjoy! ❄️💕

Masterlist

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Early morning flights are your favorite. The TSA line is usually short, coffee from the kiosk is fresh, the magazines in the newsstand are in order, and the airport is quiet in an early morning hush versus the roar of the afternoon crowds. You stop at the newsstand to pick up a magazine and a cinnamon roll before heading to your gate. You stuff your customary travel treats in your backpack looking forward to enjoying your newest Architectural Digest and sugar rush once you’re in the air.

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A deep throat clear grabs your attention while you watch the tarmac crew prepare the plane. A broad man stands before you in the aisle, clad in a flannel and faded gray shirt taking up most of the tight space. Instant panic bubbles inside when you realize this gorgeous man is who you have to share a tiny cubicle with for the next four hours.

“Hey, uh,” he stammers, a hand brushes the back of his neck in a nervous stance, “s’alright if I take the window? It’s… helpful to me.”

His voice is deep and husky with one of those famous Texas drawls, of course his voice is just as attractive as him.

“Not at all, I can take the aisle,” you say, awkwardly bending over to grab your bag.

The handsome stranger attempts to back up as much as he can yet your body still brushes against his, he tenses before moving into the row and sits down with a big huff; if you thought he took up a lot of room in the aisle, the room he takes up in the cramped business class seat is something else.

He adjusts his shoulders to try to give you more space and fails miserably. He lets out a grumbly sigh while attempting to find a more comfortable position. His arm bumps into yours before you angle your body towards the aisle, trying to give the large stranger more room. At least he smells just as good as he looks… mint, coffee and burnt wood. There’s way worse looking people to be packed in like sardines with.

The flight attendants walk the aisle and do their pre boarding steps, checking seat belts and doors before going into their safety spiel. Your seat neighbor shuffles nervously, tapping his fingers against his thighs. He’s a nervous flier, you can spot them a mile away.

“Why are you headed to Pennsylvania?” you ask, turning towards him trying to cut through his nervous tension.

“Oh, uh, to visit my daughter, she’s a freshman at UPenn. Wanted to spend the holidays with her,” he cracks a smile at the mention of his daughter. God, he’s handsome.

“That’s nice, it’s beautiful in Philly for the holidays. I’m from there, so if you need any tips on where to go and what to do, I can help.”

“Thanks,” his fingers still tap against his lap. “Guess you’re going back home then?”

“Yep, I just finished a job and I haven’t been home in a month, just hoping to beat the snow.”

“Here’s hoping… I’m Joel by the way,” he reaches his large hand out to shake yours. You grab his calloused and overworked hand then give him your name, he nods softly and repeats it. His deep voice echoes through your head, sending a shiver up your spine.

“It’s nice to meet you Joel, even if it’s in this cramped airplane cabin.”

“S’nice to meet you too,” he lets go of your hand, placing it back on his thigh, you notice that it’s no longer nervously tapping.

Flight attendants, prepare doors for departure and cross check.

Joel lets out a big, deep sigh.

“Nervous flier?” you ask.

“You could say that,” he grumbles. “Never liked giving up control of my life to someone I don’t know.”

“I understand that, but this happens to millions of people a day, you only hear about the bad.”

“I get that,” he chuckles, quickly stopping as the plane begins to roll on the tarmac. “Still don’t have to like it.”

“Well, I fly all the time,” you reassure, “I’m sure everything will go smoothly.”

“Here’s hoping,” he sighs, sinking deeper into the seat.

You are the opposite of your seatmate, you love how the engines rumble as the plane picks up speed, the way your stomach drops when it lifts off the tarmac, the brief thud underneath when the wheels are tucked into the plane. Flying has never bothered you, it’s always been exciting and a means of getting to new adventures.

The plane speeds across the pavement preparing for liftoff, your stomach drops before the wheels leave the ground... Joel’s hand grasps yours. Golden, thick fingers cover your hand squeezing tightly. You turn to him and your heart breaks a little at the sight, his eyes are squeezed shut with his nostrils flaring as he puffs deep breaths out. There’s something so heartbreaking watching this large, strong man look so scared.

“Hey, you’re alright, it’s quick, very soon we’re going to be in the air and all we have to do is wait,” you try to sound as gentle and comforting as possible. It’s easy to take fearlessness for granted, especially when someone as large and seemingly intimidating as Joel looks so helpless.

He nods, his eyes still tightly closed before swallowing a thick gulp of air.

Your free hand reaches up and opens his air vent before angling yours toward him.

“Can you look at me Joel,” you whisper. His hand still clasps yours tightly. It hurts like hell, but you don’t mind; if it makes him feel better, he can clasp as hard as he needs.

His brown eyes open wide and focus on you.

“That’s good, Joel, can you take a deep breath for me? Iiiiiin and ooooout. Very good,” you encourage with a grin on your face holding his eye contact. “This is worth it, you’ll get to see your daughter, tell me her name and what she’s like.”

“H-her name’s Sarah, she’s uh, studying to be a doctor, sh-she’s way smarter than her old man, sh-she plays on the soccer team, got a scholarship for it ‘n everything, she loves music and going to too many damn concerts. She’s going to go deaf like me if she ain’t careful.”

“She sounds awesome,” you smile.

“She is, don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“What do you do for work?” you keep him talking, making sure to distract Joel’s anxiety.

“Contractor, I own a contracting service with my brother, we specialize in retail and office buildings.”

“Oh, that sounds like hard work, but it’s nice you get to work with your brother.”

“Could be better, could be worse,” he shrugs.

“Hey, I’m an interior designer, we’re both in similar fields. How many carpenter pencils do you have? I probably have three floating around in my purse right now.”

He chuckles, his face loses its tenseness, Joel doesn’t attempt to take his hand from yours, and you don’t move to do it either. You work with contractors all the time, you’ve never seen one as gorgeous as him.

“My daughter always tried to get me to let her use ‘em for school work because they were a different shape, kept on having to take them away from her.”

“She sounds tenacious.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” he muses.

Good afternoon passengers. This is your captain speaking. First I'd like to welcome everyone on Flight 86A. We are currently cruising at an altitude of 33,000 feet at an airspeed of 400 miles per hour. We’re going to try to avoid the snow the best we can, we’ll keep you updated in case anything changes.

You’ve been entertaining Joel so much both of you didn’t notice you totally missed lift off and your ascent into the sky.

“Would you look at that? We’re in the air, you only have four hours until you get to see her.”

“Thanks for that,” he says, moving his hand from yours. “I feel ridiculous.”

“No need, I’m happy I could help,” you shake the tenseness out of your hand after the twenty minutes of being in Joel’s vice grip.

“You alright? Did I hurt you?” his eyes round in guilt under his furrowed eyebrows focus on your hand.

“No, no, it’s okay,” you reassure. “You just have a strong grip. Must be all of that contractor business.”

He sends you a shy, crooked grin, “M’sorry.”

“I’ll survive, just like we’ll survive this flight together, Joel,” you wink.

He looks at you, his brown eyes turn darker and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “You’re quite someth–”

“May I offer you a drink?” the flight attendant interrupts. Worst fucking time.

You order an apple juice. Joel orders a black coffee.

“Apple juice?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a tradition I have. I always get a cinnamon roll and apple juice every time I fly in the morning. Tastes kinda like apple pie when they’re together.”

“Hm, I don’t know about that,” he scrunches his nose and shakes his head.

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” you shrug before pulling the cinnamon roll out of your bag.

You ask for an extra cup when the attendant brings yours and Joel’s drinks before ripping off half of the cinnamon roll and handing it to him. “Here.”

“No, no, it’s yours.”

“Yeah, but I want to share,” you urge, “I got you a cup for apple juice too.”

“If you insist,” he obliges, taking the soft pastry.

Half of your juice is poured into the extra cup before you hand it to him and raise your cup up to cheers.

“To four hour flights and apple pie” you quip.

“Cheers,” he says, gently shaking his head with eyes lit resembling something akin to affection.

You both take a drink of the sweet juice before picking up the cinnamon roll and taking a bite.

“See?” you say, still chewing the sweet pastry.

“Mmf,” he shakes his head and swallows. “Not apple pie, but pretty damn good.” He wipes the errant crumbs off of his mustache, you wonder if his lips taste like cinnamon and apples.

“I’ll take pretty damn good,” you muse, picking up your magazine and settling into your seat.

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Joel glances towards you every chance he gets. He’s a realist, sometimes too much of one, he knows why he’s so calm during this flight– your comforting presence. He’s hated flying his whole life, his father never understood his fear, always telling him ‘I flew on planes bigger and louder than this all through the war, kid, buck up.’ Thanks dad, that’ll surely help the terrified eight year old crying and clutching to his mother. Sarah damn near broke his heart when she met him at the door excitedly waving the acceptance letter to a school 1,700 miles away. How could he crush his little girl’s dreams because her old man hates being in the sky? He got to bide his time, driving her in the moving truck to her new school, but now– with her first Christmas out of state and unable to fly home due to work– Joel was forced to step on the scary metal tube.

He could hardly believe his luck when the pretty girl gazing out the window ended up being his seatmate; the excitement over being so close to you helped shield a bit of his trepidation over his first solo flight and then he went on to embarrass himself. You didn’t shake your head or shun him, you accepted and supported him. He can still feel your soft hand wrapped in his and hear your gentle voice coaching him down from a panic attack. You’re a complete stranger, and yet you’ve shown him more kindness than he’s allowed himself to accept in years.

You adjust in your seat, your elbow brushes against his, little do you know he bunched up the sleeve of his flannel so he could feel the touch of your skin.

He doesn’t know why you affect him the way that you do, it’s only been a couple of hours in the sky next to you, but he’s already trying to think of a way to give you his phone number.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Captain Scott has informed us that we will be diverting to St. Louis due to the weather conditions at Philadelphia. We will be landing in approximately twenty minutes and will keep you advised about the continuation of this flight to our destination as information becomes available. We apologize for the inconvenience this may have caused. Thank you for your patience and understanding. We are aware that many of you have connecting flights departing Philadelphia. Our ground staff will work with you to confirm you on the next available flight to your destination. Thank you for your patience.

“Well, shit,” you sigh, placing your magazine down, rolling your neck and stretching your arms. “Had a feeling this might happen.”

“Shit indeed,” he sighs.

“How are you with landings, Joel?” you softly question. “Can I do anything for you?”

His heart skips, he hasn’t felt this feeling in years. Sure his little girl steals his heart every second of the day, but for a woman to make his heart race the way it is now making butterflies flutter through his stomach… that hasn’t happened in two decades.

“No, I should be okay, thank you,” he says, feeling a bit foolish.

“I’m here for you, okay?” The gentleness of your voice void of any judgment helps soothe his shame.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into St. Louis. Please turn off all portable electronic devices and stow them until we have arrived at the gate. In preparation for landing, please be certain your seat back is straight up and your seat belt is fastened. Please secure your carry-on items, stow your tray table, and pass any remaining service items and unwanted reading materials to the flight attendants. Thank you.

His breathing turns rapid, he feels the phantom of fear rearing its ugly head 10,000 feet above the ground. He’s seen far too many videos of planes spurting flames and panicked passengers escaping down blown up slides. He remembers Captain Sulley and the miracle on the Hudson… that ain’t no miracle. Joel Miller is a realist, how about everyone almost died in the Hudson? He tries to breathe like that weird lady on TikTok Sarah showed him… make a square with every breath? Or make a line and then breathe? Christ, he can’t remember. His lips part to inhale more stale pressurized oxygen trying to calm his pulsating heart. This time your hand grabs his, he looks over at your face set soft with a reassuring smile, a wash of calm runs through him. You’re so beautiful.

“You’re alright Joel, I’m here with you,” you gently lilt.

He focuses on the soft back and forth of your fingers against him, centering himself and making the phantom back away. He loves the way your soft skin looks against his. Your nails are painted a light blue, it reminds him of the bright Texas morning sky.

The plane descends as you hold his eye contact with that same beautiful and assuring smile lighting up your face.

“We’re almost on the ground, you’re doing so good,” fear and veneration perform a duet in his heart making it pound against his chest.

The wheels hit the tarmac, he lets out a huge breath of relief. Your hand still holds his, even as he visibly relaxes. He watches the light blue of your nail polish swipe back and forth against the top of his hand.

Ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to St. Louis. The local time is 9:45 AM. For your safety and the safety of those around you, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened and keep the aisle clear until we are parked at the gate. The Captain will then turn off the “Fasten Seat Belt” sign, indicating it is safe to stand. Please use caution when opening the overhead compartments and removing items, since articles may have shifted during flight. We thank you for your patience, rest assured our staff is here to help you.

“Well, I know it’s not home, or Sarah… but we’ll make the best of it,” you say, pulling your bag out from underneath the seat. He loves how positive you are, he needs someone like you in his life.

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Three hours of being stuck in the airport have slowly ticked by, at least you have the company of your new travel partner. You check your weather app for the millionth time, no change at all… snow still falls all along the tri-state area.

“Anything?” he asks, looking up from his Sports Illustrated.

“No luck,” you shrug, “I’m starving.”

“Come on,” he points his head towards the restaurant near the gate, “my treat.”

You follow him, wondering why you feel so excited over this impromptu lunch date. You can’t deny your attraction to him, an inkling inside of you makes you believe Joel might feel the same. Yeah, you might be stuck in St. Louis, your return to your comfortable bed and bathtub postponed due to the falling snow, but at least you have your handsome flight partner with you.

The restaurant is nice, a typical Concourse B type place full of simple people enjoying a hot meal, simple menu, a simple design inspired by of all things– airplanes.

Joel asks for a table near the window, the hostess obliges, leading you to a table in a quiet section of the restaurant. He pulls the chair out for you, southern manners and all.

He takes a seat with a humph, mumbling how tight his back is from all of the damn sitting. You order a hot tea, he orders a coffee.

You’ve known him for a grand six hours and yet you’re going to remember this usually milquetoast adventure for a long, long time.

“What’re you thinking?” he asks, perusing the menu.

“Turkey sandwich and soup,” you answer, mouth already watering at the idea of your meal. “You?”

“Burger ‘n fries. I’m hungry though that half of a cinnamon roll sure did satisfy,” he sends you a barely perceptible wink.

“So, do you have any plans for you and your daughter?”

“She says she has an idea or two for us, she’s a planner, I’m just there to see her, this is the longest I’ve been away from her.” His voice drops, a slight hitch in his breath appears, you can feel the sadness radiating off of him. He must be such a good dad.

“Sounds rough,” you empathize, wishing you could recreate what happened on the plane and put your hand over his while telling him everything will be okay.

“Yeah, it’s been difficult, it’s just been me and her since forever. I know she’s happy and fulfilled, that's all I can ask for.”

You wonder where Sarah’s mom went, why it’s just the two of them, and most of all if he’s single. How can you be falling for this almost stranger and his big heart that sits below his broad, flannel covered chest?

“I moved far away for art school and it was the best decision I ever made. I'm so thankful for my parents letting me have that experience. You should be proud of her… and most of all you should be proud of you.”

He looks over the brim of his coffee mug, takes a drink, and places it down on the table before grabbing your hand.

“You’re so– I’ve never met anybody like you before,” he says, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles.

The restaurant and airport disappear from your periphery, it’s only you and this man from Austin on the way to your hometown to see his daughter. This has never happened to you before… a spark of something you have no clue what to call shared between the two of you.

“I could say the same thing to y–,” you're interrupted by the waitress’s arrival, Joel’s hand retreats from yours; the physical and emotional connection between you and Joel is broken by your food being placed on the table.

“So, what’s the plan?” Joel asks as he grabs the Tabasco bottle and shakes a smattering of drops over his burger.

“No clue,” you sigh, “I wish I could take a nap. What did your daughter say when you told her?”

“Oh, she was fine, disappointed but she told me she’ll still get over a week with me once I get there,” he shakes his head, his face lifts with a doting grin. “She’s always the glass half full type.”

“And let me guess, you’re much more of a ‘the damn glass is half empty’ type?”

“Always.”

“Mm,” you nod, before taking a bite of your turkey sandwich.

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His heart beats harder against his chest as he watches you approach him from the ticket counter.

“Any new update?” he’s nervous, he hasn’t felt this nervous in years. He never realized how much he missed this type of emotional tension that pulls his back to stand straighter.

“The storm hasn’t let up, all airports in the area are on a ground stop, and now with the storm here, I think we’re screwed,” you close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. You look exhausted, spending all day in a packed airport has obviously taken its toll on you. He wants to wrap his arms around you, carry you to whatever destination you need to go to and never let go. He can’t believe he’s thinking like this, he doesn’t even know your favorite color or movie. “I’m sorry Joel.”

He hates watching your face drop, you’ve done nothing wrong. “Hey, none of that,” he takes a tentative step forward, he’s worried to overcross a line, but your sunken shoulders and defeated posture pushes him forward. He wraps his flannel clad arms around you, pulling you into a hug. Your body instantly molds to his, finding the perfect spot on his chest to rest your head against. A sweet and grateful sigh breathes out of you, radiating through his whole body.

“Looked like you needed this,” he says against your hair, breathing the feminine scent of you in. He hasn’t been this close to a woman like this in years. Sure he’s had some hookups here and there, but a real honest to goodness connection with someone after only half of a day spent together? Never happened. He feels lucky.

“I did, thank you,” you breathe out. He still holds you, making zero attempt to let go. You imagine to the average passerby you resemble a couple in love, standing in the airport terminal, holding each other.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, still holding you tight. “I think there’s a pretty good restaurant here.”

“I am, a real nice guy once took me to lunch there,” you pull away. “It’s my treat this time.”

❄️❄️❄️

Joel stands at the ticket desk, it’s now his turn to see if there have been any changes. It’s been twelve hours of being marooned in this airport, you should feel more miserable at this point, but the constant support the two of you trade back and forth to each other has helped alleviate the ugliness of stress.

“Any luck?” you ask, perking up when he stands in front of you.

“Actually, yeah, they have a 9 AM flight to Philly tomorrow afternoon,” he says, tucking his ticket into his pocket. You can’t look him in the eyes, if you do you’re going to think about how much you’re going to miss him… this man you’ve only known for a grand total of twelve hours. “There’s two seats left… and I got one. The lady at the desk is waiting for my fiancee to go get her ticket.”

Your eyes widen at what he implies.

“Oh, ohhhhhh,” you grin. “Clever man.”

“Yeah, I need your help, since I’m a nervous flier and all…”

Your knees feel weak from the doting smile Joel gives you. “Thanks love,” you stretch and kiss his cheek before heading to the ticket counter.

❄️❄️❄️

He can’t keep his eyes off of you as you walk over to the counter. He can still feel your lips against his cheek, there’s a foreign feeling in his heart. He’s already thinking about introducing you to Sarah, what the hell is this?

The airport worker laughs at something you say, of course they’re charmed by you, you’re such a sweet thing, like cinnamon rolls and apple juice.

You turn, a big smile lights your face when you walk back to him, waving your ticket in the air.

He chuckles out a nervous snicker when you skip over and wrap your arms around him.

“The agent pulled in a favor and got us a room at the hotel attached here, she said she has a softness for ‘lovebirds’ like us,” you pull away with a mischievous glint lighting your face. “Plus, she thinks my fiance is handsome.”

“Uh… okay,” he’s not sure what you’re implying, you’re far too special to him already for a one-night romp in a hotel room.

“No funny business Joel,” you wink as you grab your bag. He can’t believe how well you read him. “Now, let’s go get our luggage and check in.”

❄️❄️❄️

You enter the keycard into the door thanking that lovely ticket agent for access to a comfortable bed. And it’s just as you feared… a bed… just one, singular bed that greets you in this average airport hotel room.

“I can take the chair,” Joel nervously says.

Part of you wishes he wouldn’t have offered.

“If you want, but the bed is big enough for both of us,” you shrug out of your jacket.

“S’okay, wouldn’t feel right.”

It’d feel just fine to you, but you don’t say anything, instead you open your luggage and fish out your toiletry bag and your pajamas.

“It’s almost midnight, I’m going to get my shower and get ready for bed.”

❄️❄️❄️

His foot nervously taps against the carpet, goosebumps prickle along his arms when he hears your sigh reverberate against the shower tiles. Why is he so anxious? It feels like prom night all over again; he’s just a shy boy waiting for the beautiful girl to give him a sign, any sign, that she likes him. The last time he felt like this Sarah was born nine months later.

He grabs the TV remote trying to find a reprieve from his anxious thoughts, flipping it to the news. The anchor drones on about the great holiday snowstorm. In a way, he’s thankful for the blizzard– sure it means even more time in a flying panic tube, but at least he met you. He vows to not let any type of temptation get in the way of what feelings are developing between you two. No matter how much he thinks about your naked body in the shower and how good your body wash smells.

❄️❄️❄️

You emerge from the bathroom, clean and fresh in your pajamas.

“Should’ve figured you’d be an Eagles fan,” he says, smirking at your oversized and faded sleep shirt.

“Let me guess, Cowboys fan?”

“Forever and always.”

“Oh, well, you’re my enemy now.”

He laughs, “I’m sure I am.”

You tuck yourself under the covers while Joel takes his shower, quickly falling asleep to the sounds of whatever generic late night host is cracking jokes on the TV.

❄️❄️❄️

He quietly opens the bathroom door, the hotel room is bathed in the dim glow of the television. You're already fast asleep, cuddled under the white duvet, you look like an angel surrounded by clouds. Of course you're beautiful when you sleep. He tries not to stare too long, and yet he's planted in the threshold of the bedroom admiring you. He feels lucky at this moment, being able to watch someone as pretty as you slumber peacefully, while trying to silence the fact that tomorrow you both will go your separate ways. He doesn't want to say goodbye.

❄️❄️❄️

A bassy groan and shuffle in the dark floats through the air waking you. The clock reads 1:45 AM. “There’s enough room in the bed for you, you know?”

“I know, just don’t want to overst– I’m still a stranger.”

“No, you’re my fiance, remember?” you shuffle the sheets on the other side of the bed down, “Joel, please, I insist.”

He sighs when he stands and makes his way to the bed. The mattress dips under his weight, you can feel heated tension radiating off his body, the strong specimen of all man lays insecurely next to you.

“Joel, relax,” you whisper before placing your hand on his chest feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

“I’m okay, I-I just– haven’t done something like this in so long.”

“What? Laid in bed next to someone you’ve known less than a day? I’ve actually never done this.”

A quiet laugh rumbles in his chest. “No, just haven’t met someone as real as you in a long time. Is it real?”

“It’s real,” you say, shuffling closer to him, replacing your hand with your head. He wraps his arm around you as you listen to the pitter patter of his heart. “Goodnight Joel,” you whisper, closing your exhausted eyes.

“G’night,” he purrs, you feel the ghost of his lips against your hair as you drift to sleep.

❄️❄️❄️

He lays awake most of the night, too afraid to fall asleep and disturb your beautiful sleeping form. He wishes he could record the cute sounds that emit from you as you slumber and dream, he’d listen to them forever if he could. He can’t believe he’s thinking this way, what should’ve been a terrifying and lonely standard trip to see his daughter has turned into an adventure of a lifetime with a woman he’s already crazy for.

Sure, he’s shared a bed with others since Sarah’s mom, he’s had a couple of flings here and there, but he never allowed himself to cuddle or care for them. They were never good enough for him… or most importantly Sarah. He thinks Sarah would adore you.

The red digits on the alarm clock read 3:00 AM, he’s known you for a grand total of twenty hours. Meaning he only has about eight hours left, he’s already dreading saying goodbye.

❄️❄️❄️

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Your groggy eyes open, you move to silence the alarm but you quickly realize you’re trapped under a heavy weight. Joel. He groans against you, with his arms held tight around your stomach and his face nuzzled into your shoulder.

“Joel, it’s time to get up.”

He tenses against you and quickly unwraps your body from his hold.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly says, reaching across you to turn the alarm off.

“It’s okay,” you want to tell him you didn’t mind it all, that you haven’t slept that well in years, but you stay quiet.

“I’m just going to… get ready,” he stands, stretching and wiping his tired eyes. You try not to focus on the glimpse of his stomach remembering what it felt to have the soft swell of him against your back. “Don’t think I’ve slept that well in years.”

The bathroom door shuts as you flop back into bed, welcoming the fluttery feeling inside your body. “I feel the same way,” you confess to the empty hotel room.

❄️❄️❄️

Flight attendants, prepare doors for departure and cross check.

“Well, we’re back to where we started, it’s been quite an adventure,” you smile.

“It has,” he clears his throat, reaches for your hand and sends you a soft smile. “I have ten days in Philadelphia, I was wondering if you have any good suggestions for a nice, romantic place to take someone I really like to?”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel x reader #tlou joel #joel miller fluff #joel tlou #the last of us hbo

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hysteria-things · 7 months

Note

can you do a sub matt smut?

ICE COLD POOL

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt is your best friend. you and his brothers decide to take a dip in the pool, but you in a bathing suit makes him a little too excited.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, making out, semi-public, oral (male receiving)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 773

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this song kinda has something to do with this fic but also doesn’t?? idc i love wallows more than life🫶

the pool water felt cold on your skin, but for a hot summer day like right now, it was perfect.

you’ve known the sturniolo’s for a while now, and over the years you guys have become much closer. the four of you are currently at the steep end of the pool chatting and drinking some sodas.

nothing too fancy, but it’s always nice to have a get-together from time to time. you’re standing next to matt while chris and nick are across from you.

matt couldn’t help but check you out a few times as the hang-out went on. you’re wearing a red bikini. nothing too revealing, but matt finds it attractive nonetheless. maybe a little too attractive; because he can’t stop shifting in his spot.

“i’m going to head inside for a few but i’ll be back.” nick announces to the group, getting out of the pool by hoisting himself up on the ledge. “need to check something on the vlog camera.”

“okay.” you smile as your friend walks away.

chris clears his throat. “i need to piss.” that’s all he says while following nick’s actions.

“you’ve been quiet.” you start, turning your head to matt who’s staring into space. “everything okay?”

“yup.” he smiles nervously, shifting his body like what he’s been doing. you tilt your head, unamused with matt’s lie. you scan down his body until you get to his swim trunks. it’s hard to see because of the water’s ripples, but there’s a visible tent on the blue fabric. “matt—”

“i’m sorry.” he panics. he starts walking to the stairs, but you grab his wrist to stop him. “matt,” you repeat.

his eyes look at your lips for a beat. you cup his neck and pull him into a kiss. he doesn’t kiss back right away since this was so sudden, but he soon gets into it.

he grabs your hips to pull you closer. you smirk when you feel his boner brush against your legs. you guys don’t know when nick and chris will be back, but it has to be soon.

matt’s breathing starts to quicken as his dick twitches. he moans into your mouth, pulling away abruptly. his face is pale from embarrassment.

he just came in his shorts.

“i-i’m sorry.” he stammers. “i need to use the bathroom.”

he starts going up the steps but you stop him once more. your body is still in the pool while he is now sitting on the ledge.

despite the water making his swimsuit wet, you can still see the stain and his still-hard boner. “looks like it hurts.” you tease.

he stares into your eyes as he frowns. you keep eye contact when you start to untie his shorts, pulling them down just to his thighs. he hisses when his swollen cock finally springs free. he’s been hard for way too long.

you flatten your tongue at his tip. he flinches at the contact, but eases when you start to move your tongue in kitty-licking motions. he moans and grips so hard to the concrete next to him that his knuckles turn white.

you start to lick faster, but you stay at his tip. he doesn’t look away from your eyes until something clicks in his head. he looks around in panic, nervous that his brothers will be back any second.

“stop looking at me like that,” he whines.

you know he can cum from just you staring and toying with his tip because of how sensitive he is. you then start to kiss and suck on him.

matt bites his lip and throws his head back, whimpering as his hips buck up a little.

even though he’s not staring at you, you never take your eyes off of his gorgeous face. “please.” he gasps. “i need to cum.”

you continue what you’re doing, more moans and whines leaving matt’s mouth when one last buck of the hips has him cumming on your lips. “shit.” he pants.

you kiss up his chest until you get to his lips so he can taste himself. he moans at the feeling. “chris got distracted. sorry guys.” nick’s voice echoes from the back door. matt quickly pulls up his swimsuit and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

his brothers get back into the pool and luckily they don’t suspect a thing. nick starts ranting about god knows what, but matt keeps staring at you.

he wants to say something, knowing he can’t. all you do is smile seductively and wink, and matt’s cheeks can’t help but turn a maroon.

he wishes his brothers never came back outside.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

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myspacebrat · 9 months

Text

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⟡𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your roommates come home from their date to find you in a bit of a compromising position…but what really sets them off is the jeweled plug you’re wearing.

⟡𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, steddie established relationship, no use of y/n, just a shit load of nicknames, talks of unrequited love (but it’s not), anal plug, kinda mean!eddie and mean!steve, fingering, unprotected anal sex, unprotected p in v sex, dirty talk, free use sex, the boys using your holes, dp, squirting, cream pie, no plot just porn.

⟡𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I really don’t know where this came from, but I don’t ask questions about the things that inspire me… I took way too much time on this so pls TAKE IT! Also thank you to my babes @xxhellfirebunnyxx & @reidsbtch for beta reading <33

⟡𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.3k

You’re exhausted, you’ve spent the last couple hours stress cleaning your shared apartment while your roommates are on a date. Why were you stressed you ask?

Well, the most problematic reason; the one that made it borderline impossible to focus on anything else was you were just plain fucking horny. You tried your vibrator in between cleaning the bathroom and the kitchen, then right after with the same disappointing results before finally giving up and tidying your bedroom… that was until you came across something you hadn’t seen since you moved into this apartment six months ago—

Your baby blue silicone butt plug, with the pretty heart jewel at the bottom of the base; so naturally in your absolute horny fog, you figure it wouldn’t hurt to put it on and wear it around while you finish cleaning and then hopefully when you’re done, you’ll be more worked up and can finally, finally finish with your vibrator.

Your roommates said they’d be out pretty much all night, which you figured meant they’d go out to some bar or club and then fuck and nap in the back of Eddie’s van before making their way back home…and if you’re on the topic of complete honesty, they were the main reason for this little dry spell you were having—

Imagine living with the two hottest and sweetest men you’d ever met, but they’re together and have absolutely no room for you no matter how bad you yearn for them. Why would they want you? They have each other and they’re so happy and in love, it makes your insides hurt. Of course you want nothing more then for them to be happy, they both deserve it more than anyone but how do you go on watching the two holders of your heart be happy while you have absolutely nothing to do with it?

It’s fucking pathetic and you need to get your shit together.

So to say the least, yes you have been completely and utterly sexually frustrated. I mean hearing them fuck almost every night does nothing to help these feelings and you haven’t made any efforts to move on, meet new people and possibly start dating. You can’t help but to reprimand yourself when the thought of holding out hope flashes through your mind. There was no hope left, you will never have Eddie and Steve as anything other than friends. And just because they’re bi and are also into women too, doesn't mean you have a shot, no matter how much you wish it did. It’s time to move on.

Once the blue plug is nestled deep inside of you with the help of copious amounts of lube and deep breathes, you get back to your stress cleaning just to get your mind off of all of your conflicting thoughts but decide to forgo your cotton shorts and panties in the process, keeping the oversized slayer shirt that Eddie had let you borrow, on.

Your last task of the day was to do laundry, you’d do a few loads before getting into bed with your vibrating friend, to finally get off like you’ve been trying to all evening.

But when you went to get your clothes out of the wash to put into the dryer, a sock that had been way out of reach had you hopping head first into the machine, and before you knew it a piece of your hair was caught in the agitator. Of course, just your luck!

No matter what you did or how much you pulled, the chunk was lodged in there and was not letting go anytime soon. You wanted to cry, absolutely break down and sob. What were you supposed to do now? Wait for the boys to come home and fish you out as your whole ass is on display? Not to mention the plug you have lodged up there. No no no, you would die from humiliation. So you didn’t give up, you pulled and pulled until eventually your arms and head got tired and you just kinda dangled there, then after a good five minutes you tried again but in your haste and heavy breathing, you didn’t hear the front door open or your name being called. Everything was muffled considering your head was stuck in a damn dryer!

“What the-” you finally hear from the doorway, making your eyes widen in horror.

“Do you um- do you need some help, sweetheart?” You can already hear the smug smirk on Eddie’s face without even looking.

“That would appear so.” You sarcastically quip with a roll of your eyes.

“Well fuck, I don’t know princess. This is quite the view.” He snickers, and you can feel the way his thigh roughly rubs against your calf.

“Munson, this is no time for your fucking jokes.” You spit through clenched teeth. “Please. Help. Me.”

“Babe?!” You hear Eddie call, only assuming he’s calling Steve over to witness the scene or maybe to help him get you out. As humiliated as you are you just want to be free and if Steve has to see you like this in the process, then so be it.

“Whoa!” Steve says as he enters the laundry room, a low whistle falls from his lips and you don’t know if it’s from the view or the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in.

“She’s stuck.” Eddie tells his boyfriend and you can still hear the remnants of a smile on his face.

“Please guys, please get me out of here.” You beg as your lower lip begins to jutt out in a pout.

“I don’t know Stevie, what do you think? You think we should help her out?” The metalhead chuckles to himself, completely elated with what was happening.

“Ya’ know, I don’t think we should help her out just yet. She looks so pretty like this.” The former jock confesses, and now you can feel his thigh rub on your other calf. You try your damndest not to clench your holes because it might be obvious with the whole plug in your ass.

“Guys c'mon, this is so embarrassing. Please?” You whine, but you can’t help but feel yourself start to drip at their taunting.

“Fuck, you have such a pretty ass, baby. I would’ve never guessed that you liked getting it stuffed.” Eddie groans and you have no idea what’s happening, but you’re not mad either.

“She does, doesn’t she? Can we touch you pretty girl? Promise after we’ll get you out of there.” Steve asks before rubbing what you could only assume was his hard cock against your leg.

“Yes, please.” You whimper as tears fill your eyes, all you’ve wanted for six long months was to be touched by them.

You feel a hand press against the plug, pushing it deeper inside of you before your ass is being slapped, a slight sting left in its place. Two fingers glide through your drenched folds, a loud groan being released from one of the boys’ chest.

“You’re so fucking wet, princess.” Eddie's low timbre has you fighting with yourself to not clench your thighs as Steve’s soft hand inches higher, long fingers gliding up closer towards the plug.

“Jesus Christ. Wanna take this out and see how you gape for us, pretty girl. Can I?” Steve asks, voice low and deep, creating light shivers to course through your body.

“Yeah, mhm you can.” You huff out as the washing machine digs into your stomach, not enough to hurt but your breathing is slightly constricted.

“So fucking desperate for this, arent you baby? Just a little butt slut for us? God, the things I’ve been wanting to do to this ass.” Eddie growls supplying your supple skin with another harsh slap.

“We can’t hear you little slut!” Steve scolded, grabbing the plug at the base before slowly pulling it out.

“Yes! I’m a desperate little slut! Please!” You gasp as you begin to clench around the plug as it’s being removed from your tight rim.

“That’s a good girl.” Eddie teases, as he and Steve laugh at your strangled whines.

Once the plug is removed, you hear a slick sound before a pop; the wet tip of a finger rubbing in circles around your sensitive, reddened hole.

A small gape is left in the blue plugs wake along with the lube that now begins to bubble and leak out, the finger continues its soothing circles before its prodding, the tip sinking in without hesitation making you whine louder.

“Oh she’s ready! This little hole is just sucking me in. She Wants to be filled so badly.” You now realize the finger belongs to Eddie as it sinks in even deeper, moans fall from your parted mouth as you writhe in desperation.

Steve’s fingers begin to prod at your core, completely saturated and dripping down your thighs, they roll over your clit before his fingers begin to slowly enter your pussy. You’re now full as both sets of fingers fuck into you, Steve’s digits curling down hitting that spot a couple inches from your entrance. The position you’re in made it awkward but when his expert fingers found that bundle of nerves hidden in your walls, your holes clenched around both boys and your legs tightened and shook as they dangled, hitting the cold metal of the white washing machine.

“You gonna cum already?” Steve mocked meanly making Eddie snort out a laugh. Their teasing was pushing you even closer towards the edge and you couldn’t understand why, you’d never been one for mocked comments at the hands of other men you’ve slept with, but coming from Eddie and Steve it made your core blaze hot and your head become spacey, absolutely empty as the pleasure continued to grow.

“Well cum for us then, baby.” Eddie grits with a hard thrust of his fingers.

Your moans grow louder, echoed from the metal walls. Your legs shake harder from the force of you keeping them spread, it’s a heavy feat cumming without snapping them shut like you’d usually do when you were alone, before this little dry spell of yours, that is.

“Such a good little set of holes.” Steve says, a cocky edge to his voice as he removes his fingers along with Eddie.

You hear the smacking of lips, wishing you could watch them kiss but before you know it you feel hands on you again.

“I need to get my cock in one of her holes.” Eddie groans as the jingle of a belt buckle being removed hits your ears and before you know it hot, sticky yet incredibly soft skin is being slapped, right over your stretched out hole.

“Mmm, you ready, pretty baby?” The metalhead asks, thrusting his cock between your cheeks.

“Please, Eddie!” You cry out with an impatient lilt to your voice, begging him to take you out of your horny misery.

His tip catches against your rim, sliding in nice and slow as he begins stretching you out far more than the plug and you can’t help but to tighten around him at the unfamiliar girth.

“Oh my god!” You mewl as he sinks deeper, inch by inch you’re being filled, his length feels like it goes on forever until finally he’s fully seated within you.

Once he’s sure you’ve adjusted to his size, he begins thrusting his hips at an unrelenting pace, causing your toes to curl and your eyes to water, it was so good, it was everything you’ve been wanting.

Steve leans over the machine, a chuckle erupts from deep in his chest, as he listens to you moan and babble about how good Eddie feels stretching you out.

“Feels so good doesn't it, baby? Love when Ed’s fucks me too.” He confesses as his hand begins to trail down your back, all the way to where you’re stretched by Eddie, his fingers rubbing over your filled hole and up Eddie’s shaft making you both moan louder.

“Alright Ed, my turn.” Steve huffs impatiently as his cock begins to grow borderline painful beneath his jeans.

Eddie begrudgingly pulls out, smearing the lube around his cock and stroking it as he moves out of the way for Steve to have his turn with you.

“Can I fuck your little pussy, honey?” The pretty boy asks as he grabs your legs, putting his hands under each thigh and raising your lower half higher so your pussy meets his cock at the perfect angle.

“You can fuck whatever hole you want.” You sob, desperate to feel that fullness again.

“God, you’re such a fucking slut, just wanna be our little fuck toy, huh filthy girl?” Steve spits before pushing his tip into your dripping cunt, both of you cry out at the sheer pleasure you’re bringing to each other. Steve’s cock sinks deeper and you find yourself grateful he didn’t fuck you in the ass, his cock felt like it was splitting you in half, the most delicious stretch, but you couldn’t say it’d be as delicious had it been your other hole.

“Steve!” You whimper as your hands wrap around the big hunk of plastic your hair is caught in, trying your best to keep from being pushed further away with Steve’s unforgiving thrusts. The action causes you to almost bump your head on the back wall of the machine, and everytime he pushes you further away a pain shoots through your head as the agitator yanks it back with a strong grip on your strands. It almost feels like Steve has a chunk of your hair, held tight in his hand and now that’s all you can picture, causing you to gush around his cock— the pleasure and pain creating such a ripple effect of mini squirting orgasms that quite literally snuck up on you. Your body shakes as you moan, so sweet and feminine it’s just what Steve loves about fucking women and he has to suddenly pull out of you or run the risk of cumming too early.

“Did she- holy shit.” Eddie says as he takes one look at Steve's drenched and painfully purple cock. God, he wants to fall to his knees and lick every drop you gave him off, but he can tell Steve is already struggling, he knows that flush faced look, that’s his boy’s cum face. He’s decided he’ll reward him later for his willpower, maybe if they're lucky you’ll both reward Steve.

“Can’t believe she's a squirter, barely even touched her.” Steve scoffs; it’s so far from the truth, but the way he’s talking about you is so filthy and hot that you can’t help but to snap your legs shut and tighten.

“Uh uh, princess. Open back up for me.” Eddie tuts, while he brings his hands down to grasp at the meat of your thighs pushing them open enough for him to stand between, silver rings digging into your heated skin as he kneads at your flesh.

“How about we get you outta there now, sweetheart? How’s that sound?” The metalhead asks, growing tired of the awkward position, he wanted you where he knew you always belonged, right in between them.

“Yes, please.” You sigh with relief, as much as you were enjoying this your blood was starting to rush to your head, making you a little light headed.

Steve reaches in first, roughly pulling as he tries to release you from the agitators tight grip.

“Here let me see.” Eddie says after a few minutes as he grows impatient, just wanting to get his cock back inside you.

Even after Eddie tries and tries, you finally speak up with a whine of disappointment.

“There’s scissors in the kitchen drawer, you're just gonna have to cut it.” You huff before your body slips back into a defeated slouch.

“Are you sure princess?” Eddie asks, you can hear the sympathy in his voice as his head hovers over the washers opening, “well, I don’t think I have many options and I just really need you both to fuck me, so…” you hiss back in one more attempt to yank your hair free, with no luck.

“Alright I’ll be back in a sec.” Steve says as he jogs out of the laundry room, towards the kitchen. You and Eddie can hear drawers slamming as he looks for the scissors, the metalhead can’t help but to snort at his boyfriends obvious hunger to be back inside of you, he knows cause he feels it too and it’s something they’ve both yearned for, for more than just the six months you’d been living with them.

It happened when you were just Robin's close friend from work that they would see every other weekend when you’d all go out together; they’d agreed how beautiful, sexy and intoxicating you were, so sweet and bubbly and lively, they had non stop talked about asking if you’d maybe wanna hang out with them and see where things could go, but they didn’t wanna scare you; being in a relationship with two men who are already in a relationship can be a lot for someone, especially if that someone is used to strictly monogamous entanglements.

Then Robin came to them about you needing a place to stay and when you became their roommate they didn’t want you to feel cornered or like they only let you stay cause they like you, even though as time passed their feelings had grown even stronger, so yeah they couldn’t allow this opportunity to slip through their fingers.

“Got 'em!” Steve says with excitement as he rushes over to you, “okay, I’m gonna cut closest to the machine so I don’t take too much, just take a deep breath for me, baby.” Steve says, honey dripping from his sweet voice as he talks you through it.

“Good job, sweet girl. Okay, here I go. You’re doing so good, baby. One more snip and you’re free.” The smooth rasp in his voice makes your heart hammer, feeling it in your ears as you stay as still as possible while he cuts. Once it’s done you’re yanked up from the washing machine, Eddie hands you to Steve and you wrap your legs around his hips as he grabs the plush meat of your exposed ass.

“Are you okay, baby?” He whispers into your ear as he continues to grab and rub at your soft globes.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You murmur back as you place a gentle kiss to his neck, just under his ear.

“Do you wanna stop and grab a glass of water or get something to eat, princess?” Eddie asks into the side of your neck as he stands behind you. You can feel his hard cock as it rubs against your ass and Steve’s hand.

“No, what I need is for you both to fuck me, like right now…at the same time.” You whine as you begin to move your hips over the boys' laps, your ass and bare pussy moving back and forth over their obvious hard ons, you almost feel like a cat in heat, purring and moaning as they both kiss on either side of your neck.

“Okay, fuck, I can’t wait anymore.” Eddie growls as he removes his dripping cock from his jeans, before spitting on his engorged, red tip and smearing it around with his tattooed hand. You jerk slightly when you feel his wet fingers prodding at your puckered hole, spreading the wetness in preparation to take him again.

“You ready, princess?” He asks as he rubs his tip against his target, the squelch from how wet he’s made your asshole makes your face burn hot. You can’t take much more of his teasing.

“I’m ready, I’m ready please.” You beg, it comes out breathless as if you’d just gotten the wind knocked out of you. Your desperation so clearly evident to them, that it causes both of their cocks to pulse with need.

“Okay, we’ve got you baby, gonna make you feel so good.” Steve whispers into the side of your face before leaving a gentle kiss on your jawline that lingers with a tingle when he pulls away.

“Ed’s, hold her legs for me really quick.” Steve mutters before he begins removing himself from the confines of his blue jeans. He gives his aching member a few quick tugs before he’s roughly grabbing you back from Eddie. This time his forearms slide under the backs of your knees, your ass slips down angled perfectly between their needy cocks. Steve’s hold on you tightens as his hands inch behind your back, the perfect position to fuck you on both of their cocks, passing you back and forth like some kinda fucked up game of hot potato.

Eddie begins to push in first, breaching the snug walls of your previously stretched out hole, how was it so tight again? The metalhead groans once he’s fully seated within your gripping confines, Steve takes it as a signal to begin his work of re stretching your cunt back out to perfectly mold to his size, the perfect little cock sleeve.

They begin thrusting simultaneously, causing the filthiest “uh!” to slip past your lips as your left hand shoots out to clutch onto Steve's brown locks while the right finds itself gripping the nape of Eddie’s neck. Three sets of glossy lust filled eyes find each other as your opened mouths breathe in each other's moans of ecstasy.

Eddie’s hands glide down to the globes of your ass, two of his flat palms pull the plump meat of your cheeks apart as his cock drives deeper into your second hole. Tears spring to your eyes as the boys use you for their own pleasure, it’s everything you’ve wanted for so long, you want to live in this moment forever between them as they give you their all.

The grunts and groans that hit the right side of your neck and the back of your left shoulder have you clenching both holes so hard you can already feel the beginnings of orgasmic bliss on the horizon, the heat in your lower stomach stirs and your legs work so hard not to snap shut as they’re still held wide open by Steve’s forearms; now shaking profusely.

“Please, please oh my god, I’m gonna— please!” Is all you can reverberate, as the filthy whines and pleads fill the cramped laundry room.

“You gonna cum for us, kitten?” Eddie mumbles into the back of your hair before planting an approving kiss there, as if to say ‘go ahead, you have my permission.’

“Yes, yes, yes!” You chant as you clamp down even tighter on them, like a fucking vice grip making them whimper and whine as they both fuck you through it.

“Go ahead kitten, soak our cocks— get us all messy with your sweet girl jizz.” Steve couldn’t help but giggle at his boyfriend's ridiculous words, but he wouldn’t deny sweet girl jizz made his cock twitch in anticipation.

Eddie and Steve’s thrusts get even more ravenous as wet squelches, skin slapping and your feminine moans echo off of every wall in the apartment.

“You’re fucking her so good baby. Hear those pretty little noises she’s making for us?” Steve says before bringing his hands to his boyfriends hips and pulling him in even deeper, causing their cocks to rub together through you.

Your high hit you so hard, your moans and cries were silent as your body jerked, your eyes rolled back and your toes curled; a stream of wetness squirted out and hit Steve’s lower stomach with a splash as the rest covered Steve’s sneakers and Eddie’s boots, both boys groaned as they fucked you hard through your second orgasm.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it baby!”

“That’s a good girl!”

Both boys praise you, holding you tighter between them as your body goes lax from such an intense come.

“You okay, sweet girl?” Steve’s nose brushes against yours as his honey eyes study your face with the utmost concern.

“I’m so good.” You say back with a lazy smirk.

Their thrusts continue up when they realize you’re okay, now their only thought was hitting their peak; which was closer now after watching you come all over their laps.

“I’m gonna come, wanna fill you up, please princess?” Eddie whispers in your ear sending a deep pleasurable shiver down your spine.

“Mhm, want you both to fill my holes.”

They both lose it at your words, low grunts leaving their lips as their warm come fills you from both angles.

“Oh fuck! That was—” Eddie started, before Steve finished for him with a breathy and fucked out “Wow!”

They both kiss and hold you before letting your feet hit the cold tiles. Steve grabs a towel and cleans you up with a shy smile on his face, that you couldn’t help but find incredibly cute.

“How about we finish cleaning up and you go lay down in our bed? We can all cuddle and fall asleep. How’s that sound, kitten?” Eddie suggests.

“That sounds nice.” You say through a yawn.

Leaving both boys to clean the evidence of what just happened; the scissors and your hair, the wet puddle on the floor and the loose pieces of clothing scattered around.

Once you were gone Eddie broke the silence—

“Do you think we should ask her tonight or in the morning?”

“Let her get some sleep and then we can tell her how we feel tomorrow, and she can decide whether she wants to be with us or not.” Steve says as he wipes up your wetness.

“Do you think she’ll want us?” Eddie asks his boyfriend as his brown eyes fill with worry.

“I have a good feeling she does.”

#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #steddie x y/n #steddie x you #steddie stranger things #steddie x reader smut #steddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut

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judebellswife · 6 days

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A WORLD AWAY — Jude Bellingham

— pairing • dad!jude bellingham x mom!reader

— requested by anon (18 jan 2023)

— summary • Exhausted from the daily demands of taking care of their children, you feels overwhelmed and drained. Jude notices your fatigue and takes matters into his own hands, whisking you away on a surprise vacation to the other side of the world. In the serenity of a private paradise, you and Jude reconnect as a couple, far from the responsibilities of parenthood, finding comfort in each other’s company and rekindling their romance.

— warnings • Fluff, explicit sexual content (vanilla), mentions of exhaustion, emotional intimacy.

— charlotte’s note: i’m kinda bad at writing smut or like write about have sex in general 🙇🏻‍♀️

Life had become a whirlwind of responsibilities. You hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in months, between managing the house, chasing after your two children, and trying to carve out a moment of peace for yourself. Every morning, you felt like you were running on fumes, moving from one task to the next, just trying to keep everything afloat. Jude had been supportive, as always, but even with his help, the weight of motherhood was starting to overwhelm you.

You loved your children with all your heart, but it felt like you’d lost a part of yourself in the process. The exhaustion was more than just physical; it was emotional. Every day, you gave and gave, until there was nothing left for yourself. The spark in your eyes had dimmed, and Jude noticed.

One night, after the kids were finally asleep, you collapsed on the couch, staring blankly at the TV screen. Jude sat beside you, gently rubbing your back as you rested your head on his shoulder. You didn’t say much. You didn’t need to. He could feel how tired you were, how much you were struggling, even if you didn’t complain.

“Love,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of concern. “You’re completely drained. I can see it, and I hate seeing you like this. You’re always giving so much. Let me take care of you.”

You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. “I’m just… tired, Jude. The kids, the house, everything. It’s like I haven’t had a second to just breathe.”

Jude pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’ve got an idea. Let me spoil you for a bit, yeah?”

You looked up at him, confused but intrigued. “What do you mean?”

A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Pack a bag. Just the two of us. I’m taking you away.”

“Jude, we can’t. What about the kids?”

“My mum’s already agreed to take care of them for a few days. You need this, and so do I.” He gave you a reassuring grin. “Trust me. You deserve a break, love.”

Before you knew it, you were on a plane, flying halfway across the world to an unknown destination. Jude had kept everything a secret, and despite your initial reservations, excitement started to bubble inside you. The idea of leaving behind the chaos of everyday life — even just for a short while — was exhilarating.

After hours of travel, you finally arrived at your destination. When you stepped out of the plane, the warm ocean breeze hit your face, and you gasped. You were on a private island, the kind you’d only ever seen in travel magazines. The beach stretched out before you, with powdery white sand and crystal-clear waters that shimmered under the sun. A luxurious villa was nestled just a short walk from the shore, secluded and surrounded by lush greenery.

“Jude,” you breathed, unable to believe your eyes. “This… this is amazing.”

He smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist as he guided you towards the villa. “I wanted to take you somewhere where we could just be us. No kids, no stress. Just you and me.”

The villa was even more stunning inside, with its open-plan design, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean, and a spacious balcony where you could watch the sunset. Everything felt perfect, like a dream.

For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe. There were no little feet running around, no toys to pick up, no diapers to change. It was just you and Jude, with nothing but time.

The days passed slowly, in the best possible way. You and Jude fell into a rhythm that was all about relaxation. Mornings were spent walking along the beach, the gentle waves lapping at your feet as Jude held your hand, laughing and stealing kisses like you were a pair of teenagers in love. Afternoons were for lounging by the pool, with the sun warming your skin and Jude’s voice softly teasing you as he splashed water playfully. You’d laugh, feeling lighter than you had in months.

But it was the nights that felt the most intimate. After quiet dinners under the stars, you’d retreat to your villa, where the sound of the ocean lulled you into a sense of calm. It was in those moments that you and Jude reconnected, finding each other in the quiet spaces where your lives had been too loud before.

One particular evening, after a long day of exploring the island, you stood on the balcony of your villa, gazing out at the moonlit ocean. The air was warm, and the gentle breeze made the palm trees sway. Jude joined you, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind as he pulled you close, pressing his lips to the side of your neck.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ve missed seeing you like this.”

You closed your eyes, leaning back against him, feeling the tension in your body melt away. “I feel like I can finally relax,” you whispered. “Thank you, Jude. I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

He turned you around to face him, his hands resting on your hips as his eyes searched yours. “You’ve been incredible with the kids, with everything. But I want to take care of you too. You deserve that.”

You smiled softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His eyes darkened with a mixture of love and desire as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. It was the kind of kiss that reminded you of how deeply connected the two of you were, even after all the years and everything you’d been through. Slowly, his hands began to explore your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

Jude pulled you inside, his kisses growing more passionate as he guided you toward the bed. The air between you was thick with desire, but there was no rush. This was about the two of you, taking your time to rediscover each other.

You could feel the soft fabric of your dress falling away as Jude’s hands roamed over your skin. His touch was familiar, yet electric, igniting a fire inside you that you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, his gaze full of adoration and love.

As he lowered you onto the bed, his lips never leaving yours, your body responded to his touch with an intensity that surprised you. Each caress, each kiss, was slow and deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every moment with you. The way his hands moved over your body made you feel cherished, desired, and more connected to him than ever before.

When he finally joined you, his weight was a comforting presence above you, grounding you in the moment. The intimacy between you was sweet and slow, a reaffirmation of the love you shared. Every touch, every movement was filled with tenderness, a silent conversation between two people who had been through so much together and come out stronger on the other side.

Afterwards, as you lay in his arms, your head resting on his chest, you felt a deep sense of peace wash over you. The sound of his heartbeat, steady and reassuring, lulled you into a state of complete contentment. For the first time in months, you felt truly relaxed, as if all the weight you’d been carrying had been lifted.

“Thank you,” you whispered into the quiet, your voice soft but filled with emotion.

Jude kissed the top of your head, his arm tightening around you protectively. “For what, love?”

“For bringing me here. For taking care of me. For everything.”

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You take care of everyone else. It’s my turn to take care of you. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

In that moment, wrapped in his embrace and the tranquility of your surroundings, you felt completely at peace. The exhaustion that had once seemed insurmountable was gone, replaced by a deep sense of love and connection. You knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Jude would face them together.

And as you drifted off to sleep, listening to the soothing sound of the waves and the steady beat of Jude’s heart, you knew that you were right where you were meant to be — loved, cherished, and never alone.

#football imagines #football fanfic #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham smau #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you

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phyrestartr · 4 months

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PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader

W/C: 6.9K (oh god lol) #NSFW, fingering, implied fucking, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, angst, fluff, smut, happy ending, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is an actor, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), Gojo is an actor, Getou is a manager/agent, Toji is a stunt coordinator, Jin is a teacher tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @watyousayin

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?”

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle.

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold.

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him.

“...No proof.”

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you.

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige.

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational.

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair.

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you.

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard.

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?”

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought.

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.”

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.”

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless.

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.”

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly.

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly.

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?”

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.”

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. The fuck did they want?”

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.”

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?”

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you.

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest.

“For a kid,” you chastised with a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.”

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.”

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.”

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.”

Man. Man.

“A statement.”

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.”

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up.

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.”

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

Truth is out–Ryoumen Sukuna is the father, (Name) tells fans on social media!

Sukuna hated seeing that shit. The circus celebrities had to dance through used to be funny until he somehow got swept up into it. Until he suddenly had a baby boy that looked so much like him and so much like you.

He spent too much time on your socials, scrolling through promotion posts and photos of you at red carpet events and premieres–and then he remembered you had a private account. One that you said he could follow. One that he never followed.

Sukuna rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he sulked in bed. Was he really about to sacrifice his pride for this? Was he seriously gonna request to follow your personal account just moments after articles dropped and tweets were sent about him being the baby daddy? Could his pride take it?

Fuck me. This shit is highschool.

He requested to follow, and not even a minute later, you approved it.

That had him interested. Did you want him to follow? Did you want him to be part of his little guy's life? Were you feeling a rush of anxiety and excitement like he was right now?

“Get over it, you fucking idiot,” he mumbled to himself before scrolling through your photos.

There was so much more here. So many photos of you pregnant, of Touma when he was so ridiculously itty bitty, of when you were recovering in the hospital, looking worn out and exhausted, but still beaming as you held your little boy.

There were photos of his first birthday and the cute…rustic cake you'd apparently made yourself. Your agent, Getou, was there, as was one of your fellow agency mates, Gojo, along with some other folks Sukuna did and didn't recognize.

Of course, his boy–your boy lit up the centre, eyes glittering with the reflection of sparklers and the warmth of a good, safe home. He was happy. The boy–his boy–your boy was happy.

Then he called you. He couldn't help it, not anymore.

Sukuna paced around his penthouse, sipping on his spiked coffee and trying to desperately control his…nerves? Alpha instincts? Excitement? Fuck, he didn't know. But he was full of whatever it was, and it drove him nuts.

“Hi!” You answered as you picked up, so full of life as usual. “Been a while. How're you? What's up?”

Sukuna felt so, so old suddenly. Why were you so awake in the morning?

“Think you can spare some of that pep in your step for me?” Sukuna asked. He smiled when he heard you laugh on the other line. “Dunno how the hell you're so awake in the morning.”

“Well, I don't party or work on cars until the crack of dawn,” you purred back, so sweet and teasing. Sukuna almost got hard. Ugh. Ugh. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Hah? What, you sayin’ I'm irresponsible ‘n make shitty choices, babe?”

“Absolutely.”

“Tch. Omegas.”

You snickered again before cutting to the chase: “So, you're calling about my Touma?”

Sukuna swallowed. “Yeah. Gotta say I'm pretty fucking confused.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He heard you shift in bed, triggering a rumble of grumpy noises from your little one. You hushed him gently and apologized before the small, crackly purring resumed faintly in the background. The thought made Sukuna's heart ache.

“What do you wanna know?”

Sukuna inhaled deeply. “Why'd you keep it?”

“I wanted him,” you said. “Next question.”

“...When did you know?”

“Mmh…I guess about a week or two after we stopped hooking up.”

“And you didn't say shit?”

You went silent for a moment, and Sukuna felt his nerves tingle and prick. He wasn't anxious. He wasn't feeling betrayed. It wasn't any of that. Absolutely not.

“I guess I got cold feet,” you admitted. “I don't--I know how many baby daddy accusations you get, y'know? I didn't want you to think I was just trying to get you to pay me out or something.”

Oh. Okay. That made sense, actually.

Too many omegas and women Sukuna fucked around with pointed the finger at him if they caught some sort of STI or fell pregnant; even if it was months after fucking, Sukuna would be suspected of fathering the pregnancy of a newly-pregnant, ex-partner he hadn't seen in eternities, and the media would run to the ends of the earth with it. He was the infamous bad boy the media circuit loved to prey on. And Sukuna didn't really care for it–not until now. Not until those fucks ruined his opportunity to be a dad.

“Fucking–” Sukuna sighed and put his mug down to rub his face. “Shit. Shit. Fucking media bastards. Fuck.”

“I need to get my car tuned,” you said.

Sukuna deadpanned. “Read the fucking room, babe, we're not–”

“Do you want me to bring Touma?” You finished, undeterred by the alpha's grouchiness. “So you can meet him? I think he'd like that.”

Oh. Oh. Ouch. His heart–was Sukuna about to die? Why'd his chest hurt so much? What the fuck?

Sukuna cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I–yeah? Yeah. Alright.”

“Okay, cool. When's your next–”

“Tomorrow.” He cleared his throat again and scratched at the back of his neck. “Any time.”

You stifled a laugh poorly. “Don’t be nervous, Sukuna.”

“M'not. Fuck you.”

“I can do tomorrow. Let's saaay…1pm?”

“Yeah, sure. 1pm.”

You rolled up at 12:59pm.

Sukuna had the garage open, everything tidy and ready to go like he actually gave a fuck about tuning your car when his literal fucking son was about to be in his presence. But he was so not nervous. Definitely not fucking nervous. Nope. Nuh-uh. Never.

You stepped out of the car and Sukuna felt his heart jump; you looked the same as you did last time he saw you. You were dressed more casually, though, done up in joggers and runners with a university hoodie to top it all off. Clearly, you didn't care to impress today.

You threw Sukuna an easy smile before pulling open the back door and taking care in plucking your chubby bunny from his car seat. All the while, Sukuna wandered closer and closer, but maintained a respectful distance just in case your momma bear came out to bite. He knew you had an impressive temper when your easy-going self got pushed too far, and he would rather not bring that out right now.

“Pa!” Your son yipped as soon as he got up into your arms. “Puh Pa!”

You melted immediately, punching Sukuna in the gut with your happy scent of maple syrup and cardamom as the little one nuzzled up to you, repeating variants of “pa!” as he rubbed his chubby cheeks and snotty nose against your neck and face to get that perfect scent onto him.

“You're so sweet, bunny,” you cooed and adjusted him in your arms as you met Sukuna the rest of the way. “Hey, hey! So, did you want to meet him first, or–?”

Sukuna didn't know what the fuck to do, honestly.

“I, uh. Car shit first. What needs tuning?” He drawled, watching the pup clinging to you with rapt attention.

Admittedly, Sukuna didn't really pay attention to what you were saying and what you were gesturing to; he was too captivated by the faint wisps of scent he caught from your little one. He smelled of smoke and syrup–a perfect combination of his parents’ scents.

And he just looked so much like the both of you. Touma's skin tone tilted more your direction, but the glowy, bronzey quality that Sukuna brought to the table still shone through in its own weird way. His eyes were almond-shaped like his own, but bore the same, welcoming colour of yours. And, fuck, his hair was just a perfect match to Sukuna's. If the little shit got Maori tattoos too, he'd be a tiny carbon copy.

Damn. Speaking of–would his mom wanna meet the little shit? Her grandson? Would she ever bother leaving Hawaii to–

“You get all that?” You asked.

Sukuna stared at you. “Get what?”

You pursed your lips like you so often did and turned to the big, bad alpha.

“Maybe we should do the meet ‘n greet first, huh?” You swayed a little and kissed Touma awake. “Baby, you wanna meet a friend?”

“Buh!” Touma exclaimed. You gently guided his little face to look at Sukuna, and the boy looked star struck staring up at the absolute unit that was Ryoumen Sukuna.

“Touma, this is Sukuna.” You closed the gap between the two of you a little more, and Sukuna leaned down to look at the little one. His little one.

Sukuna twitched a smile as he looked over the little thing. “You sure this thing’s mine? Looks a little small.”

You laughed. “If you were born as big as you are, I’m so, so sorry for your mother.” You nuzzled Touma’s little cheek and bounced him a little.

“Wuh!” Touma’s little arms flew up towards Sukuna, and the towering man looked a little more than nervous, looking at the tiny pudgy hands like they were deadly weapons.

“Come on, don’t look at him like that.” You took Sukuna’s hand and delivered it to Touma. “He’s curious. He hasn’t met anyone as big and tall as you, y’know?”

Sukuna huffed, but let the little one grab at his fingers and hold his hand. “What, you don’t have another alpha looking after you? Hard to believe that. You're the neediest little bitch I know.”

“Stop. I'm not Yorozu,” you huffed, and Sukuna cringed at the name. “He has alphas around, sure. But not big ones like you–security excluded. It's not like other men want to play nice with another alpha's pup.”

Sukuna caught the hint of a frown on your face, and his hackles started to rise.

“Some dumbfuck giving you grief?” Sukuna asked, voice rolling with thunderous promise. He'd kill whatever moron fucked with you and his pup. You just had to drop the name.

You sighed, light-hearted. “You know what the rich and famous are like--we're the worst.”

Sukuna growled, and Touma mimicked the noise as best as he could with his pathetically teeny tiny crackled voice. Fuckin’ cute as shit.

“Tch. Don't sell yourself short.”

“I'm just trying to say I don't need that around my boy, and I sure as hell don't want it around me, either.” You nodded and stepped closer as Touma reached up for Sukuna again. Apparently just holding his hand wasn't doing it for the boy anymore.

“Good. Don't need those pathetic fucks around the runt–oi, wait, what the fuck're you–”

“Wup, wup!” Your son shrieked as you helped bully Sukuna into holding him.

“He wants uppies.”

“Uppies,” Sukuna balked.

“He wants you to–okay, you're bad at this–don't hold him like that! Here, do it like–” you cut off as you helped Sukuna get a comfortable hold on Touma while the littlest one squirmed and squeaked in delight, trying to climb up onto Sukuna's shoulder but failing miserably.

Sukuna twitched a smile as you sighed, exasperated by the ball of energy trying to scale the mountainous man. But he got a hold of him, tucking his arm under his butt and holding his back to make sure the little shit didn't go plummeting to the floor.

“You give your ma hell, huh? I can get behind that,” Sukuna hummed. His son's little hands papped at his face, grabbing at his nose and jaw–specifically over the dark tattoos streaking along the curves and cut of his features.

And you smiled the entire time. You pursed your lips tightly to hide it, but you did it so poorly. You always did. Maybe it was on purpose.

“So, can I tell you about my car problems now?”

Sukuna held onto his runt while you explained what flaws, either cosmetically or mechanically, were bothering you. It mostly consisted of slight dents from other assholes not knowing how to park, paint scratches, and more of that sort. As a fellow car guy, Sukuna could understand the anguish of having a favourite baby get all dinged up.

“Not hard to fix,” Sukuna decided. He held the hood up with one hand and looked over the motor–everything looked clean and well-maintained. He was almost impressed. “But, well, it'll cost ya. Uraume can send the details.”

You nodded. “Sure, sure, sounds good. I'm never taking this thing on the road again after it's fixed. Too many fucking idiots out there with piss poor driving skills.”

The mechanic smirked. “Ho? So beating up your car is what makes you start cussin’, huh? Noted.” He let the hood fall closed and adjusted his hold on the now-sleeping tot. “Couldn't even get you to do that in bed.”

“Psht, don't say that in front of the baby, Sukuna, jeeze,” you sighed and rubbed your face. “Babies remember more than you'd like to know.”

“Huh. You think he'll remember when he got–”

“No, he won't remember his inception.” You laughed and shook your head, but paused when you saw smears of concealer on your fingers and tutted.

“How long's the car gonna take? Should I get a rental?” You asked before the man could comment.

“Probably, if you want me to detail this thing right,” Sukuna mumbled. He reached out and turned your chin back to him, looking at the spots concealer missing, hinting at dark circles under your eyes.

Your face grew hot, but you nodded and cleared your throat. “Yeah, okay. I'll, uh. I'll call someone to pick us up–”

“I'll take you home.”

You brightened the slightest bit. “Yeah? I–okay.” You pulled his hand from your face and smiled. “I'll grab the car seat.”

Sukuna liked your house. It was a nice mix of traditional and modern with large stretches of woodgrain and bamboo. A neat outdoor garden and pond decorated the front, but a bigger, more lush collection of tropical plants greeted guests. It was beautiful, if one was desperate to be in nature.

“I'm just gonna get him to bed, be one second.”

Sukuna nodded and pocketed his hands as he pretended to not watch you trot upstairs with the sleepy cub melting in your arms. You still had a nice ass even after popping that little melon out. Huh.

He looked around your space more, wandering with slow, lumbering steps. The house wasn't huge by any means, but it was cozy and warm, quiet and hidden away from the city's gaze. That was probably why you chose it–here, you could be honest with yourself. You could shield your babe from the brutality of your career and keep him safe from leering eyes. Honestly, one of the leaves on your giant monstera could hide him from the whole universe.

Guy's too obsessed with growing shit. It ticked him off, but he didn't know why.

Maybe it was all the photos of you and Touma. Maybe it was because he wasn't in them and too many other men were in his place, lining your walls in the protection of cheap IKEA frames–but Sukuna didn't want you. No, no, Ryoumen Sukuna did not want anyone. He didn't want you. He didn't need to settle down and–

“You want a glass of wine?” You asked when you came back down the stairs. “It's plum wine. Don't really have any scotch or anything, but I–”

Sukuna scoffed before a mocking laugh slipped out of him. You paused, looking at him with bleak attention as he shook his head and pocketed his hands. Your request for him to stay pissed him off; clearly, you expected something more from him.

“Whaddaya think is gonna happen here, huh? You think we're gonna fall in love, pick up where we left off, have a happy little fuckin’ family to tell the tabloids about?”

“What?” You asked. “I never–”

“Didn't have to. Gotta admit, you did a better job than the rest of the whores that tried wrangling me in to–”

“All I asked,” you cut him off, voice quiet but firm, “Is if you wanted wine. I’m not proposing, Sukuna.”

Sukuna didn’t like that. The whole…not-being-into-him and not wanting him to stick around after he just shut you down. He sucked his teeth and took a breath, about to say something, but you spoke first.

“I know this is a PR thing. I know how the whole media circus works–you want your ex to stop bothering you, and I want people to stop asking questions about who the fucking father of my son is.” You paused, staring Sukuna dead in his eyes, a quiet, simmering rage boiling just beneath the surface of placid control.

“Call my manager when the car’s done,” you decided, sounding beaten down and exhausted. “I’ll send someone for it. Thanks for the ride home.”

Next thing the man knew, he was ushered toward the door and stood in the doorway, stuck on the idea of being kicked out of his omega’s–no, no, out of an omega’s house like he was trash.

“Fucking–wait, just–”

“What?” You snapped.

“I could–glass of wine doesn’t sound too bad–”

You shoved the bottle into his hands and slammed the door.

Sukuna tried to sleep it off–as in, he slept around to forget about the crushing weight of rejection collapsing down on him, shattering his chest, spearing his heart with shattered bone.

You still kept being so fucking nice to him, too. You never slandered him, never spoke ill whenever he was asked about in interviews–you spared his reputation with a kind smile every time you had to talk about him or to him.

And he was grateful for it, even if he didn't return the favor. It's not like he was on a smear campaign, no, but anytime a hook up would ask about you, he wouldn't give a glowing review, per se. But it wouldn't be scalding either. Just sheer indifference tainted with drops of bitterness stemming from unripe guilt.

It went on like that for months–until you did your parental duties, and set aside your feelings about Sukuna for the sake of your son.

“Uraume, get that,” Sukuna called as his phone rang. He was too busy fucking around under the hood of his latest project to wipe his hands free of grease and pick up himself, obviously.

But Uraume was there for a reason. They picked up the phone with a polite hello before their sharp frigidity melted into rounded edges.

“(Name)-san,” they hummed. “It's good to hear from you. Do you need to talk to Sukuna-san?”

Sukuna started wiping his hands off so unbelievably fast.

“He's working on a car right now. You know how he can be when he's focused.”

“Fucking–piece of shit–what the fuck–” somehow, he got even more grease and oil on his hands thanks to that stupid fucking rag. God, what a nightmare.

“Sure, I can take a message.”

“Fuckin’ shit fuck, fuck.” He wiped his hands on his designer jeans before running to Uraume and gesturing for the phone.

Uraume's brows raised, and they actually smiled.

“Ah, hold on, Sukuna-san's here.”

Sukuna snatched up the phone, ignoring the knowing look glimmering in Uraume’s eyes. Ugh. Ugh. Betas.

“Hey,” Sukuna said after clearing his throat.

“Hey! Ume said you were working on a car? You didn't have to stop to talk.”

“Yeah, well.” Sukuna shrugged to himself and kicked a scrapped car part, sending it skittering across the ground and clanking into other parts. Jesus, when did his shop get so messy? “Needed a break anyway.”

“Ah. You work too hard, you need to take breaks more often,” you laughed sweetly. “So, listen, Touma's birthday's coming up–”

“Shit, seriously?” Sukuna grinned and kicked another chopped part. “Fuck. How old's the little shit turning?”

“Two! He's growing up so fast, I wish I could slow down time and–” you paused and laughed, suddenly sounding unsure and a bit nervous. “Sorry, sorry, was about to go on a tangent. Anyway, there is a little get-together, but you don't have to come. Satoru and Toji'll be there. But your brother and his son'll be there, too, so it won't suck completely.

“Otherwise, if you want to come see him earlier or something, that's fine, and–and you're not cutting me off and I didn't think I'd get this far so I'm losing the plot.”

Sukuna huffed. “What, you don't want me to fuckin’ listen, huh?”

“I know you will since I have such a pretty voice, but I'm surprised you're being a good boy for once.”

The mechanic rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. Who knows if it was to wipe away embarrassment or fatigue.

“You’re exhausting.”

“And you’re a dick.” There was a special brand of teasing bitterness behind those words, but the vibes were balanced perfectly; seemed you were still cranky about what he said, but you were willing to let it slide.

Sukuna chuckled, relaxing the slightest bit. “Alright. I don't know what the fuck kids like at that age, but I'll figure somethin’ out. I can at least show up Jin.”

“Wow.”

“Text me time and place. I'll be there.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll bring some plum wine. Fancy shit.”

The hidden rumble of a purr snuck its way out from your side, and Sukuna did everything he could to suppress his alpha's reciprocation.

“Sounds good. See you then, Sukuna.”

Toji answered the door.

“Hah. Why the hell are you here?” The fuckhead ex-Zenin asked with a stupid, shitty smirk on his dumbass face.

Sukuna strained not to throw the first punch. He really shouldn't murder someone at his--your son's birthday party. Murder is bad. Murder is bad.

“Fuck you.” Hey, at least it wasn't murder. “‘M here for my fucking kid.”

Toji crossed his arms and suddenly looked beyond bored as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Your kid? You mean (Name)’s kid?” He wondered, putting on a show of thinking. “Weird.”

“You're one to talk. You forgetting what you did to your own brat? You fuckin’--”

“Sukuna!” Your sweet voice called, instantly changing the atmosphere. “Glad you came. Do you–oi, Toji, move, stop bodyguarding. You're not a bouncer.”

“Eh?” Toji stayed in his spot as you smacked at his arm and tried to push him away. “I'm just standing here. Not bodyguarding. Minding my business.”

“You’re so full of shit.” You wheezed and squeaked as the man suddenly gave way, nearly making you crash into him and plummet to the floor. But you caught yourself and hissed at the dark-haired menace until he whistled innocently and waltzed away.

“Fucking--why’s he here again?” Sukuna grumbled as you let him in. He leaned down to nose at your cheek with a grumpy, quiet grunt--typical greeting procedures for an interested individual or bonded pair. But the way you choked on whatever you were about to say meant he must've caught you off guard.

“He's uh–we work together. We've worked together? He was the stunt coordinator for some movies I've been in.” You cleared your throat and took the present bag from Sukuna to place with the others. “And I babysit Gumi sometimes.”

“Gumi? What the fuck is a Gumi?”

“Megumi? His son?” Oh. Oh. “I babysit Yuuji too, so. Thick as thieves, y'know?”

Sukuna nodded a little, thinking hard on the lore. He liked that Yuuji was taken care of by you, but surely that wretched Gumi could go somewhere else. Toji was probably just leeching off of you.

“Oi, Momma, get in here,” Toji crowed from wherever all the baby giggles and excitement bubbled from in the house. “Your boys need some maternal guidance–”

“Toji, don't make it weird!” Jin whisper-yelled before going on a long-winded rant about this and that, about proper behaviour and attitudes in front of children (not that the kids were paying attention to anything Toji did).

You gave Sukuna a tired smile. “Come on. It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

Sukuna sighed, but let you drag him to his demise, bottle of wine in-hand.

But it wasn’t that bad. Not really.

Your other boys, Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru, showed up and showered tiny Touma with way too much praise and far too many gifts, but the little shit looked so pleased that Sukuna couldn’t get too annoyed. Shoko and Uraume came by, too, much to Sukuna’s surprise. Uraume brought with them a whole fucking confectionary cake they’d crafted themselves at home. Gojo obsessed over it and Getou tried to reign him in to no avail.

And the night went on. No one talked shit, not unless it was in good fun, no one got fucking hammered, no one talked about work–it was all about the kids. Nothing else. No one else.

Sukuna could never guess just how far that truth went.

When everyone left for the night, the alpha could start to see the edges of your smile fraying. But you held on, thanking everyone for the gifts and for showing up for Touma, and especially thanking Jin for offering to let all the little ones spend the night at his place (you and Toji would forever be in his debt).

Then, when the door closed and all fell silent, he heard you cry.

Sukuna didn't know what to do about people crying. He never had. Even when he was a kid, he had a hard time trying to comfort people with hugs and words of reassurance–he just couldn't do it.

“It's okay,” he heard you whisper. “It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. It's okay. I'm okay.”

Sukuna got up and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. “Sure about that?”

You jumped and clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle your scream. Sukuna barked out an ugly, reedy laugh while he defended himself from your petty smacks and pinches.

“You scared the fuck out of me–why're you still even here? Go home! Shoo!” You wiped your eyes once you were done harassing him and turned away, busying yourself with cleaning up dishes and wrapping paper left in the aftermath.

Sukuna followed you idly, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. What could he say? He loved seeing you get all petty and riled up. But he didn't love seeing you cry. He didn't love seeing you try to stealthily wipe tears away, to try and steady your shaky breathing.

“What’s going on with you, babe?” Sukuna asked as he settled beside you at the sink.

“It's nothing,” you said with a snuffle. “It's seriously nothing. Sorry, I--you don't need to stay. Or anything.” You sighed and rubbed at your eyes with your sleeve. “You've done your fatherly duties. You're free to leave.”

“Yeah? ‘N what about my baby daddy duties?” He wondered, voice so horribly low and comforting, like the buzzing crackle of a campfire.

You laughed, watery and shaky. “You already did everything you needed to, Sukuna.”

“Come on, don't cockblock me like that.” He gently tilted your Chin his way to catch your eyes just like he had back at the shop all those months ago. “Look at me.”

You did. Your eyes were red and irritated, whatever pretty boy make up you wore was wiped off and smudged, and those heavy, dark bags met the light in front of someone else for the first time in a long time.

You still had the gall to laugh it off and pull Sukuna's hand from your face with a small, “I'm fine,” though.

“Then why the hell are you crying?” He asked.

You squeezed his hand with both of yours. “Things are just…hard. Overwhelming.”

Sukuna nodded a bit. “That why Jin took the runts tonight?”

“Yeah. Needed some time, I guess.” You snuffled and wiped your face with both hands before finishing up with cleaning. “Makes me sound like a shit parent, I know.”

Sukuna couldn’t disagree more. “Least you're not flipping out on the kid. That'd be way shittier, yeah?”

“I don't know. I guess, but–yeah. I don't know.”

Sukuna sighed and scooped you up like a new bride. “You're driving me fucking mental.”

“Sukuna–!”

“Quiet.” Your omega indeed piped down at the grouchy command, and you shyly let the man carry you up the steps to find your bedroom. “You're getting some damn rest. You look like shit.”

You grumbled something Sukuna elected to ignore in favour of tossing you onto a bed the way one might lob a stone into a pond. You landed with a warbled squawk and looked at Sukuna with horribly accusatory, baffled eyes.

Sukuna quirked a brow as he looked down on you, gladly using his broad build and tall stature to secure your submission. And it worked; the aggravated spark in your eyes curled up and fell silent after a few long seconds. Your head lowered just the slightest bit, too, but your passive gaze remained stuck on him, waiting for his next move.

“Fine,” you grumbled.

Sukuna raised his brows and eased onto the bed, caging you underneath him with his solid frame. Your scent flickered with shy playfulness, and Sukuna relished in it.

“How do I know you're gonna obey, omega?”

“I guess you don't. Not for certain,” you admitted begrudgingly.

“Tch. Someone's gotta keep you accountable then, huh?” He nosed at your neck, nearly letting his lips touch your neck but refusing to do so in the same instance. “Make sure you're doing the right thing, make sure you're behaving.”

One of his hands squeezed at your soft thigh before inching up little by little. Your hands found themselves in his hair as he teased at your joggers’ waistband, pulling the elastic taut before letting it go.

“Sukuna,” you laughed, sounding a little breathless. “I, uh–I thought you said–”

“Changed my mind.”

“But–”

“Forget what I said and let me make you cum on my fingers, brat.”

Oh. Well, hard to argue against that.

You swallowed but gave a meek nod. He ripped your bottoms off and felt up your blazing skin with rough, calloused hands, groping and grabbing in the same spots he liked back when you were hooking up: your thighs, your hip bones, the squish of your stomach. As much as the man harped on about not wanting “damaged goods,” he sure worshiped your body like it was brand new, untouched.

Sukuna brought his fingers to your mouth, and you took them with utmost compliance. Your tongue worked against his digits thoughtfully and thoroughly for your own sake–a lack of starter lube wouldn't end well, after all. And Sukuna was not the most patient man in the sack.

“See?” Sukuna crowed into your ear as his hand traveled south and a finger sunk into you. “It's not so bad to just behave, now is it?”

You already felt like you were about to explode, and Sukuna savoured It. He liked being the one to do this to you–the only one for a while, considering how tight and sensitive you were. Any little push or prod inside you brought sweet sighs and soft moans to the surface–and a second and third finger had your hips bucking and your nails digging into his shoulder and back as he finger-fucked you to oblivion while still caging you in.

“Good omega,” he cooed. “Gonna cum already, huh? Tch, you shoulda said no one’s been taking care of you; I would’ve taken my parental responsibilities more seriously.” His lips and teeth landed on your neck, as you curled up into him, body tensing, heels digging into the mattress, panting and gasping getting louder and faster. The sound made his pants strain even more.

“Fuck, you smell fucking good. Better than when I fucked you the first time.”

“I-I forgot you talked so much in bed,” you managed out. “Could you just–shut up?”

Sukuna growled, and you whined. “You want me to shut up, huh? You wanna listen to your slick fucking hole getting spread open, plowed into? You miss me that much, omega?”

“No.” You hissed and clung to his upper arm as he somehow managed to take it up a notch, slipping his fourth finger in and spreading you obscenely wide.

“I think you did. Think you were hopin’ I’d come around, plow you into the bed again, stuff you full like no one else can.”

“Sukuna–”

“I’ll fill this hole up all you want, baby–I’ll even stuff another pup in you. Twins. You want that, huh? You gonna be my omega from now on? Creaming on my cock ‘n fingers the way you shoulda been the day you walked your perfect, little ass into my life?”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up–” you choked on a gasp and bit into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with drool and shuddered mewls while your body tightened and ecstasy hit like the weight of Sukuna’s words–brutal, fast, honest.

Sukuna moaned in sympathy, ignoring the way his hand and arm cramped and ached to keep pistoning into you and draw out your high. He couldn't help it–something about you drove him mad in that moment. It could have been how you made his ego swell, it might've been the way his greed needed your slick staining his and only his skin, perhaps it could have been a quiet yearning coming from his lonely, hollow alpha. He didn't know. But he didn't question it.

Your body started to relax with the death grip you had on his shoulder as you came down from the sudden, electric high. Your hips still jolted with every slow, lazy push into your soft hole, though a haze of purring and cooing filled the spot where gasps and moans once did. Eventually, you melted off of him and collapsed onto your back, looking as content as a cat lounging in the sun.

“Oi, oi, you're not done yet, sweetheart.” But if you said you were done, he might've listened. Just that once.

You hummed something as you looked up at him, eyes doey and so egregiously lovey-dovey.

“That's a nice face. Make sure you save it just for me,” Sukuna gently commanded, and you laughed.

“Demanding. I thought you didn't like used goods.”

Sukuna scowled. “Shut up.” His free hand traced the stripes of stretched skin left in the wake of bearing his baby boy. “I like ‘em when they're used by me.”

“Does that really make them ‘used goods,’ then?” You murmured as if speaking logic too loud would break Sukuna's entranced obsession of you.

But maybe, maybe, you had a point.

“Guess I'll have to think on that.” His fingers slipped out of you and he gave you a wet slap on the ass to wake you up. Your subsequent squeak sure as hell woke Sukuna up.

“Ow. Gross.”

“I'm not finished with you, brat. Don't get too fuckin’ content, yeah?” He smirked when you glanced at his crotch expectantly. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

Sukuna sighed and settled between your legs as he futzed with his belt and button. “Could put up a bit of a fight.”

“Too tired.” You yawned and stretched with a pleased sigh. “No will to argue.”

The alpha leaned down to bite at your knee, and you pulled your legs together to avoid his chunky, rude fangs. You knew he'd delight in making you bleed or leaving dark bruises. He was the worst.

“Still got a little fight left in ya,” Sukuna said with a grin. “Let's see how much more we can find, hm?”

#male reader insert #sukuna x you #sukuna x m!reader #jjk #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #reader insert #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk smut #jjk x male reader #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #itadori sukuna x reader

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targaryen-dynasty · 1 year

Text

LECHERY.

Aemond Targaryen x wife!Reader

Based on the request: “I love your write so much !!!!! Can you write a jealosy Dom Aemond when his wife his dance and have fun with Jace at the dinner. So he put her on his knees and punish her, after that he fuck and give orgasms to show at who she belongs. A kinda dark but not to much, he loves her in his black heart after all“

WORDS: 3.9 K

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; DUB-CON, profanity, rough oral sex (face fucking), p in v, balls worship, humiliating, degrading, breeding kink, jealous Aemond, female Reader

“Come... let us drain our cups to these three... strong boys.“

And with that, everything went downhill.

The evening had started relatively tame, considering you had supper in the Dragon’s lair with ten more or less hot-blooded Dragons surrounding you.

There was a bit of tension between the youngest present members of the family, but considering most incidents happened way before you even met your husband, you were somewhat oblivious to most of it.

Until Jacaerys Velaryon had prowled around the long table and asked you to dance, catching you off guard, considering you were in a conversation with Helaena.

Her soft and encouraging smile eventually coaxed you to accept the offer, but only because you hadn’t dared to look at your husband from over your shoulder, and felt the need to accept it out of courtesy; not wanting to cause any bad blood between you and the side of your husband’s family.

Aemond wasn’t keen on dancing. Never had been, never would be. The only exception he made was on the evening of your wedding, more because he felt duty bound than that he actually enjoyed and wanted it.

The possessive and jealous demeanor of your husband wasn’t a secret, though you suspected Jacaerys asked you to dance on purpose as a polite way to rile him off. He barely touched more than your hand during the dance, but that was already too much for Aemond, probably because he loathed his nephew.

On top of that, the giggles and laughs erupting from you didn’t help with his jealousy either. It was Jacaerys easy demeanor and his inability to dance that brought you a great sense of joy after the first rounds of swirling and circling around each other, he just didn’t take himself too seriously.

Just one look over to where your Dragon sat motionless in his seat, facing the direction of the designated dance floor to keep his stern eye neatly trained on you, told you that you were in for a lot of trouble.

That proved to be right.

Not one glance was spared into your direction when Aemond exited the Small Hall after facing his uncle Daemon. It was unusual, had he always been nothing else than a devoted and caring husband, which was why you practically bolted out of the room to follow him.

His footsteps were heavy, bouncing off the stone walls of the Red Keep as his large strides effortlessly carried him towards your martial chambers, his stance threatening enough to have every maid or person of court moving aside on his way.

When the thick wooden door finally fell shut behind you, there was nothing else than silence and the dim light the fireplace granted filling your quarters. Hadn’t you seen your husband entering them before, you would have thought he wasn’t there. But you knew he was. You felt his presence. Your eyes flickered through the room, needing a few seconds to adjust to the light.

A firm hand caught your loose tresses in a tight grip all of the sudden, the gasp that surged from your tongue replaced by a short shriek with you being all but yanked towards the large bed.

It felt as if he placed his whole weight onto your body, your knees buckling until eventually they hit the hard stone floor. Much to your luck, the gown you wore was quite thick and cushioned the impact to a certain point. It still was painful, but hadn’t had you wincing.

When your wide doe eyes looked up, you were blessed with the sight of Aemond looming over you. His jaw was clenched, probably the only indicator visible on his usually stern face that displayed the anger he felt. The eye patch was long gone, the blue Sapphire in his socket capturing the obtuse light of the fire, making him appear even more threatening.

Your courtesy had pushed his limits, and with the position you were in, you knew you were trapped.

A frown was knotted on your forehead, and despite knowing all too well what got you into this dilemma, you opted to play the innocent victim, feigning your confusion.

“What is this about, husband?“

There were a few seconds of silence between you, passing with you shifting your weight from one knee to the other to ease the tension and stiffness in the joints. When the reply didn’t come even though his narrowed eye was fixed with yours, you tried to rise to your feet again, only for him to yank you back down by your hair.

The harsh tugging was the main reason your heart rate increased, wildly thrumming against the confines of your ribcage. A stark contrast to the way he treated you normally.

“Kneel, ābrazȳrys,” a command, and with the choice of his tone it was clear that it wasn't up to debate.

“But ‘tis not comfortable,” you protested.

“You were not complaining about being uncomfortable with my nephew earlier.”

“I was not kneeling on stones either.”

“Oh, but I bet you thought about it. I saw the lecherous way that bastard-born fool was looking at you,” each word laced with venom.

“You know we were just dancing, Aemond.”

“Were you? Or were you toying with him? Or toying with me?” he accused, hand remaining in your hair, whereas the other slowly undid the laces in the front of his breeches.

“I am… I am afraid I do not understand,” your eyes had long traveled down to watch the movements of his hand, when awareness toppled over you about what he had planned to do. The front of his breeches was strained into a tent, looking incredibly painful and uncomfortable.

It happened tortiously slowly. The laces loosened enough for him to push the front down, revealing his white braises which quickly followed to expose his throbbing length to the chill air of your quarters.

The pale skin was flushed around the tip, angrily begging for attention and relief. Droplets of his arousal leaked out of the small slit, giving it a slight glow. You were accustomed to the size of his member, sheathed deep inside of you almost every night since your wedding, but the perspective had it looking even more considerable than it already was.

Just by looking at it, you could feel the soreness already creeping up to the back of your throat, straining your voice.

His stones hung low, twitching and swinging every time Aemond’s hand wandered up to stroke down the full length of him. Lascivious thoughts clouded your mind, your mouth filling with saliva as the urge to lick and embrace his jewels with your lips became unbearable.

“You are mine,” an unnerving timbre in his quiet voice, “it would be best for you to remember that.”

With the shivers running up your spine also came bolts of electricity that flickered into the other direction, filling the heat at the apex of your legs with anticipation.

His jealousy and possessiveness toward you was something you should be concerned of, showing the danger that radiated off of him, and the true threat he was. If the deliberate ruse at supper was the fruit of nothing else than your courtesy, it would not stop at that. That only was the beginning, every sense of trepidation falling victim to his temper.

Your eyes were wide, the shimmer in them caused by the anxiety you felt.

“I do remember,” seconds of silence passed in which you were looking for the right words to say, “Iksan aōhon.” I am yours.

High Valyrian did not come as easy to you, as it came to your husband. The lack of lessons and Valyrian descent were not the best requirements to learn a tongue as difficult as it. But you tried, grasping a few of the words he repeated over and over whenever he spoke to you during multiple occasions.

A bit more of the blue Sapphire was revealed when his eyes widened in surprise, unveiling some of the tenderness he felt towards you, even though it turned back to its usual cold and stern expression straight away.

The grip on your hair released, and with the feeling of your scalp finally being able to relax again, you felt your heart rate slowing down, too. And when his hand instead cupped the back of your head, fingers tentatively massaging the assaulted skin, you couldn't stop leaning into his touch. You were basking in the feigned safety, caught by surprise when your face was urged toward his erect member.

“Perhaps my sweet wife needs some help to remember her place, gaomas ziry daor?” Does she not?

“Kostilus,” you teased, your own arousal not a secret anymore. Perhaps.

Much to your husband’s surprise, not one second was wasted until the tip of your tongue was sweeping from the base of his cock up to the bulbous tip, the salty taste of his arousal spreading over your taste buds.

Your heavy breaths fannef over the flushed skin, provoking a huff of air to slip past Aemond’s lips.

The entirety of his palm was immediately wrapped with the strands of your long hair again, making it easier for him to keep your head exactly where he wanted it. Not that you minded, as long as things moved on your accord with a lot of preparation.

Knowing your job, you reached to grasp his stiff member, using the bit of your saliva that ran along the underside as lubrication. Your tongue penetrated the spot between the base of his cock and the sac of his stones, until eventually your lips parted against his stones to suckle gently as you took them in your mouth.

You felt Aemond twitching in your touch, hand slowly stroking up and down the entirety of his thick length.

It was the first time you went that far and engulfed his jewels, but your husband had little time to question where that boldness came from. The pleasure was too good, perfectly audible in the ragged breaths that spilled from him, only interrupted by a few grunts and groans. The indecency of your own ministrations surprised you all the same, but it satiated and soothed something in you that was long embedded in the back of your mind.

It was the sharp tug of your husband that pulled you out of your trance like state, his jewels generously coated in your saliva from how fervently you had sucked on them.

“You appear eager to have something in your mouth, Y/N,” he rasped as two of his slender fingers pried your lips apart, sinking into your mouth deep enough to gag you, before they were replaced by his cock, “Perhaps I can help you with that.”

His erect member laid heavy on your tongue, and you had little time to prepare yourself for what was to follow. As the feeling of your warm mouth around him reached Aemond’s mind, he wasted no time in bucking his hips into you. The ambush on your throat caused you to clutch his thighs, nails digging into the thin fabric of his ruffled breeches.

The girth and length of him left little to no space for any air to fill your lungs, especially whenever he halted for a few seconds to relish in the tightness and heat your mouth granted him. He never went deep enough for your nose to nuzzle against his lower stomach, because otherwise he would spill down your throat in a matter of seconds.

All you could do was to hollow your cheeks around him, draggin the tip of your tongue along the underside of his cock and the vein that ran from the base to the tip. His abdominal muscles flexed at the sensations you granted him, more so when one of your hands clasped around the bit of his length that didn't fit into your mouth.

However, your husband seemed to have other plans in mind, and peeled your hand off of him. Both his hands were steadily planted on either side of your face, keeping your head in place.

There was no need for him to sink into you fully, your eyes already glassy from swallowing only half of him. Tears brimmed in them, straining your cheeks on their way down. The urge to squeeze them shut was big, but you kept them trained on his violet one. This allowed you to spot the exact moment your husband lost control, his hips thrusting into you on their own accord. He grabbed your head, tilting it to try for you to take as much of him as possible, until you were doing nothing at all and allowing him to use you however he desired.

“Sīr sȳz,” the words pierced through the silence like a prayer, repeated by him multiple times. So good.

His groans grew in volume, whereas you only gripped his thighs as if your life depended on it. You gagged around him, saliva leaking down the corner of your lush lips and dripping onto your bosom, or at least the bit that was exposed through the low-cut neckline of your black dress. You relished in his praise, his appreciation making the whole assault a bit more bearable.

His cock started to grow harder, if that was even possible, indicating that he was on the verge of his peak. The mere thought of swallowing his salty spent coaxed you to hollow your cheeks around him once more, applying a bit of pressure to his cock by flattening your tongue and pressing it against him.

With his soaring pleasure also rose the pressure he applied on your face, combined with the loss of air the main cause for your vision to grow blurry, a slight headache flaring across your head.

The ability to suck in some air was short-lived, coming and going every time he chose to force the tip of his cock down your throat again. If you were to place your hand on the juncture of it, you were sure to feel him from the outside, feeling and seeing how he eased his way down the tightness.

But suddenly, the pressure eased, and you coughed when too much air filled your lungs at once.

Aemond’s breathing came in heavy bursts as he looked down at you, mouth agape and a slight pink tinting the pale skin around his cheeks, “Fuck that mouth of yours… I need to finish in your cunt.”

With that, you were yanked to your feet by your hair, turned around and toppled over the edge of the bed, landing on your stomach. The skirt of your dress was pushed up to reveal your smallclothes underneath, a damp spot visible in the center of them. The embarrassment of your lecherous desires caused you to bury your face in the bedcovers, heat radiating off your cheeks. You did not dare to look at him from over your shoulder, his mocking snicker perfectly audible.

“Do you like this?” he asked, sarcasm laced within his voice, “do you enjoy when I treat you like a common whore?”

The shame his words caused to rise in you had you clenching your thighs together to which Aemond just tsked. Both his hands grasped your thighs to pry them apart again. They inched up your arse, fingers hooking underneath the hem of your smallclothes, tearing them down your body.

From that angle, Aemond was able to see just how affected you truly were by the whole situation, your cunny pulsing around nothing, and shining with the juices that had seeped out of your swollen folds.

The sight was truly divine, and Aemond thanked the Seven for bringing you into his life.

“Oh, you undoubtedly like this,” he purred.

The bed shifted as Aemond climbed behind you, kneeling between your parted legs. One hand brushed your exposed thigh in a soothing manner, comforting you while the tip of his cock prodded at your greedy entrance. It moved up and down your folds, brushing against your little bud. Jolts of pleasure coursed through your body at that, the aching need for attention slowly being stilled by him.

It was your whiny voice that filled the silence, “stop teasing me, husband… please.”

You moaned at the sensations, fisting the sheets in both hands as you tried to push your hips back, needing to feel more of him. As that didn't work, you opted to wiggle your hips instead to coax him into you to which Aemond just served a stinging slap to your right arse cheek, not even giving you a warning first.

Your rear clenched together at the pain, not even his hand resting on the reddening skin able to soothe it.

“Stay still,” he instructed, hands gripping the flesh of your arse tightly, pinning you down.

The pressure at your hole returned. Knowing his size (and still feeling its remnants lingering in your throat) you were glad to be soaking wet for him, because otherwise it would’ve been even more uncomfortable than it already was.

Despite taking him almost every night ever since your wedding, you still hadn’t grown accustomed to his size, the pain of his intrusion causing you to gasp. For a few seconds, pain was everything you felt, until it was replaced by pleasure.

Once he had thrusted into you in a swift motion, his pubic bone pressing against your backside, he gave you time to adjust to his size. You felt full, almost as if he was to come out your throat at any given moment. The tip rested against your cervix, every throbbing of him adding to the fullness you felt.

“M-Move… please,” you all but begged him, resting your cheek on the bedcovers; and your husband complied.

A shuddered breath was heard from behind you as you squeezed his cock, resulting in him pulling out almost completely to snap his hips right back in once the tip was the only thing engulfed by your heat.

“I will never get used to your tightness,” he panted.

His hips moved to pistone in and out of your cunt, brushing your sweet spot every time he entered you. Aemond was so forceful, the tight grip on your hips was the only thing to keep you from shooting up into the headboard.

Not long after, he released one of his hands and started to slap your arse, watching the way you squirmed and whined at the pain and euphoria that simultaneously filled your veins. He was silently wishing he had allowed his jealousy to take over much sooner, seeing how much you seemed to enjoy it.

The rustling of the bedcovers and dipping of the mattress next to your waist indicated that Aemond had shifted in his position, one hand neatly planted on the bed to support his weight as he towered over your body. You reached behind you to try and grab ahold of any part of his body you could grasp, but your husband had other plans.

His hand clasped around your wrist whilst finding the other one, and brought them behind your back. His hand was large enough to envelope both your wrists, pinning them to your back and therefore forcing you to lean on your face.

You felt the steady tightening of your stomach, your cunny and thighs tingling as your moans and whines grew louder. Faint stars danced along your vision, blacked out by the pillows underneath.

Aemond felt you nearing your peak, his own already tingling at the tip of his cock thanks to the preparations you both had taken beforehand.

“‘M going to fill you up,” Aemond grunted, emphasizing his words with a row of sharp thrusts, “fill you with my seed again and again until you are round with my child.” Just the thought caused his stones to seize up. He was walking on the edge, ready to tumble down into the abyss.

He spared no time in seeking out his pleasure, letting his cock go in and out with determination, slamming his pelvis into you with reckless abandon seen only in patrons of a brothel.

The wet sound of your sweaty bodies slapping together was music to his ears, further sweetened by the quiet whimpers and moans you released every time he buried himself balls deep inside of your glorious womanhood.

His hand found your hair, pulling and twisting your mane in his hand until he forced you to arch your back for him, allowing him to thrust into you deeper than before. He was hitting your sweet spot so utterly perfect, almost spending himself at the mere thought of how deeply he was impaling you.

You, on the other hand, felt as if you had to pee, your thighs inevitably clenching together to stop the liquid from leaking out of you. The added tightness and stimulation allowed Aemond to topple over the edge. His soul was roaring in victory as his cock bursted his spent inside of you, spilling ropes of his hot seed deep inside your quivering walls.

As he peaked, he felt your cunt clamping down on him, milking him for every drop. You were peaking from being fucked like an animal, as if you were a wildling living in the lands beyond the wall.

Your legs trembled uncontrollably, and ridiculous amounts of your arousal oozed out of your cunt, coating the entirety of his member and dripping down his pulsing balls.

You laid limply beneath him, trying to tame the chaos your overwhelming orgasm had caused within you, whereas he didn't seem to have that much trouble to regain his composure.

Aemond’s tall frame towered over yours, bowing forward to press a kiss to the juncture of your shoulder. It was a welcomed gesture, but the gentleness quickly turned into something wicked, when he sank his teeth into the plumpness of your flesh. The stinging pain took you by surprise, causing you to clench around his flaccid cock. By the muffled groan Aemond unleashed against your skin, you knew he was just as overstimulated and sore as your cunt and throat.

When he let go of your skin, he admired the burgeoning bruise that showed on your skin, satisfied he had claimed you in two ways that night. Your maids were going to see his claim on you the following morning, and with them not being able to keep their mouths shut, it was only a matter of time until the gossip about it spread throughout the castle and reached the damned ears of his bastard-born nephew.

He pushed you off of him, hands grazing the reddened flesh of your arse, before he tugged himself back into his breeches. The heavy sigh that left his lips was enough to tell that his body (and jealousy) was content and sated, more so when a look over his shoulder revealed his seed trickling out of your well-fucked cunt. Another great rush of satisfaction coursing through him.

“Dawn is almost upon us, sweet wife,” he cooed, “catch some rest. We will discuss this matter in the morrow when we break fast.”

There was no response coming from you. Too many impressions were clouding your mind and perception, the most prominent one being the question about the next time you would be able to dance with another man.

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angelicpoison12 · 4 months

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first kiss ღ

Alastor finds out you’ve never been kissed.

MFA, SFW, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

Alastor was an odd fellow. Not in a bad way-he was just.. Strange, to say the least.

— ☆ —

He was constantly cooped up in his room, listening to jazz, or doing his little radio broadcasts. I knew better to not be a little vermin towards him. I mean, Alastor had a fuckton of power, who wouldn’t be scared of him? I stayed away from Alastor. His smile kind of freaked me out. He was never mean to me, but I still had my guard up out of reflex. Whenever I interacted with him, it was short, tasteless small talk. I think we could both tell that we wanted more from each other-to have a bond at least-but fear held us back like floodwater gates.

We both wanted more.

I was sitting in the lobby, scrolling on my phone. I felt the couch dip, weight being added. I looked up, squeaking when I saw Alastor right next to me. His grin was still wide like usual, but it seemed strained? His eyes bore into mine with an intensity that frightened me. Yet his gaze also intoxicated me. It made me want more. That stupid longing ached in my chest, and I wanted nothing more than to snuggle him, feel him, to… Love him. Alastor looked at me, cocking his head to the side. “Y/N?”My eyes shot up. He must’ve been calling out to me for a while. “Oh-I’m sorry, Alastor.. I got lost in my thoughts,” I said with a nervous chuckle, my cheeks dusted with a soft blush. Alastor let out a soft, cackle-filled laugh. “Oh, no need to apologize, dear! Now, what is it that’s on your mind? You were staring a lot.” My eyes widened further, embarrassment washing over my face like a tsunami wave. Was I staring at him? Was I staring at the wall? What did he mean when he said I was ‘staring’?! God, he was so fucking confusing!

“Y/N? You’re staring again, dear.” I heard Alastor say. Fuck.

I swallowed, sighing. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Alastor.. It’s just-“ “You’re attracted to me, Y/N.” “What-?!” My voice was a soft shriek. Alastor’s grin widened scarily. I didn’t even know the fucker could smile wider than he already was able to. I squirmed under his gaze. I felt like a tiny rat under the paw of a tomcat. Alastor chuckled darkly, his irises practically glowing. “My dear, it’s quite clear.. Your eyes shimmer when you gaze at me. It’s not the usual, frightened stare I get around here, no. It’s one of curiosity. As if you’re a lost soul, wandering without a shepherd. Is that right, dear?” My head slowly turned upwards towards Alastor. My face was bright with a blush, and I was shaking. He’d gotten my emotions right. More accurate than even I could get them.

Maybe I wasn’t scared of Alastor. Maybe I was just, without a doubt, in love with him. He patted my shoulder, kindly saying, “Give it some thought, Y/N. You know where my room is if you need me.”

And just as sudden as he’d appeared, he was gone in the blink of an eye. I didn’t know what the fuck just happened, but I knew I wanted to explore it further. And I wanted my exploration to be with Alastor.

— ✩ —

I found myself at Alastor’s door not even twenty-four hours later.

What the hell was I thinking? Just a little bit ago, I was scared out of my mind to even look at him. Now I was yearning for him. It was as if a gravitational pull was curling itself around my heart, forcing me towards the darkest pits of Hell, where there was no return or exit. I was willing to take the path. I wanted to know if Alastor truly wanted to help me, or just make another searing deal to a weak victim such as myself.

Alastor seemed delighted to see me in his room. He was eating a few slabs of grayish meat. I didn’t ask about it; I kinda wanted to keep down my dinner, thank you very much. Then, after some meaningless small talk, I managed to choke out,

“Al.. Kiss me.”

I heard Alastor’s internal freak out. It sounded like a record had been scratched. He fully turned to look at me, sitting across from him at his desk. In a soft voice, he asked, “Y/N, are you sure? This isn’t some.. Mania, is it?” “No-! No, it’s not!” I choked, sighing shakily. “I’m just confused right now, okay..? I don’t know what to do about my feelings, or how to move forward with them-“

Before I could even finish, his hands had cupped my cheeks, claws oddly warm as his lips brushed against mine.

The kiss wasn’t dirty at all. It was soft and kind; nearly chaste with hints of reassurance hidden throughout his coldish lips.

When we pulled away from each other, my heart was beating rapidly, I could feel blood in my ears, and my cheeks were flushed. Alastor grinned wickedly, and holding his cane, he purred, “Not confused anymore, dear?” All I could do was nod, whimpering out, “Yeah.. I think so.”

I should’ve told Alastor how ‘unsure’ I was ages ago.

— ✩ —

#Alastor #Alastor Hazbin hotel #Alastor x reader #Alastor Hazbin hotel fanfic #Alastor fanfic #hazbin hotel #masterlist #MFA #gn reader #fluff #SFW #Alastor SFW fanfic #cute #Drabble #hazbin hotel Drabble

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hcsiqs · 2 months

Text

| i love you, im sorry

• pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

• summary: inspired by gracie abram’s i love you im sorry

• warnings: angst ?? mean!paige kinda…

I like to slam doors closed

Trust me, I know it's always about me

I love you, I'm sorry

“Paige, please,” you begged as tears fell from your eyes and you tried to get the blonde girl to look at you, but she refused. “Don’t just push me away!”

“Go y/n! I don’t need you anymore, ok?” she replied, hurt evident in her voice. She jerked her arm away from you.

She had just torn her ACL and wanted nothing to do with anyone, especially you. It seemed like everything you had been doing for the past few weeks set her off. She hated the way you tried to help her and the fact that it seemed you pitted her, even though you weren’t trying to. You just wanted to help her, that’s all you ever want to do.

“I’m just trying to be there for you,” your voice dropped into a softer voice as mascara stained your cheeks.

“Well I don’t need you to be here for me or whatever the fuck,” she ran her hands down her face.

“I wanna help because I love you P,” you tried reminding her that all of this came from your love for her, but she didn’t wanna hear it.

“I don’t love you anymore,” her voice broke as she her piercing blue eyes made contact with your own and you could see that she meant every word.

You bit your lip trying to hold back your sniffles as your lips curved into a frown without you even trying. Your arms crossed over your body as you let out a hushed, “Ok,” before packing all your things from her room into a bag and leaving without saying another word. That was the last time you talked to Paige junior year.

Two summers from now

We'll have been talking, but not all

that often, we're cool now

Paige had decided to stay an extra year at UConn due to her injury that she suffered from a few years prior. And you just so happened to also be staying at UConn to get your graduates degree.

Obviously going to the same school you two had bumped into each other and exchanged a few words, but nothing much, both always seeming to be in a rush to avoid the awkwardness.

You had decided on taking a few summer classes and as you were walking with your head down you found yourself run into a taller figure. When you stepped back you immediately recognized who it was.

“Paige,” you said with a tight lipped smile.

“Y/N,” she replied with the same smile before shooing her teammates off. “How’ve you been?” she asked awkwardly pushing some of her hair behind her ear.

“Good,” you nodded, “Staying busy, you?”

“Yeah, yeah, good,” she replied nodding her head while shoving her hands into her pockets. “You—uh—you look good,” her eyes scanned you up and down, something you had gotten used to when you were together.

“Thanks. You too,” you were trying to keep the interaction short and sweet, not wanting to get into anything. “I gotta go, but see you around?”

“For sure,” she nodded before you walked off and tried erasing the entire interaction from your brain.

It wasn’t like you had talked at all in the past two years. You had your civil interactions here and there but never had them for too long. And you wanted to keep it that way. You wanted it to just stay cool between the two of you. Not wanting to bring up y’all’s past.

You were the best but you were the worst

As sick as it sounds, I loved you first

You had just finished your fall semester finals, so you and your friends decided to celebrate and get rid of all the stress by going to Ted’s and getting drunk.

It just so happened to be the same night that the UConn women’s basketball team had won a hard game against one of the best schools, and they had all decided to out to celebrate.

And that’s how you found yourself staring down a certain blonde at the bar who was obviously flirting with another girl. You kept telling yourself that it shouldn’t bother you because you had broken up almost two years ago now, but you could shake the “I loved her first” from your brain as you watched the two.

So, you took another shot to try and distract yourself. The burning sensation trickled down your throat before walking past Paige, ‘accidentally’ hitting her arm.

And once you found yourself in the comfortable muffled silence of the bathroom the door swung open to reveal the tall blonde basketball player. “What’s your problem? You’ve been staring at me all fuckin night long.”

“Have not,” you slurred, rolling your eyes and turning away from her to look in the mirror. Your lipstick was smudged from all the drinks you had taken and your mascara was messy under your eyes from continually rubbing them.

Paige moved closer to you, but not too close, almost scared that if she did you would run away and she would lose her chance. “Yeah. You have.”

“No,” you shook your head, meeting her gaze through the mirror.

“Dude, just fucking talk to me!”

“No! You don’t get to act like what happened is my fucking fault,” you raised your voice turning to the side to actually look at her up close. “You pushed me away, not the other way around.”

“I know and I regret it everyday. But every time I try to talk to you, you rush off!” Paige started moving her hands to represent her frustration with the situation.

“Why would I wanna talk to someone who is just going around flirting with random girls,” you snapped back before even realizing what you were saying. But as soon as the words left your mouth you immediately slammed your lips shut, afraid of what might come from them if you didn’t.

“So that’s what this is about?”

“No! Yes? I don’t know, okay?” your hands found their way into your hair, brushing it back with your fingers.

A moment of silence fell between the both of you. Neither really knowing what to say in the moment.

“Forget what I said,” you shook your head, wanting to disappear from the entire moment.

“I miss you,” she confessed as you tried pushing past her to get out of the small room.

You felt as if your heart was gonna beat out of your chest at those words. The words you had been wanting to hear since your fight two years ago. The words you had fought to hear that same night but never did.

“I miss you too, P,” your drunken self admitted. Your glossy eyes meeting hers. It seemed like your heart had stopped in that moment and nothing existed but the two of you.

I love you, I'm sorry

allie’s corner

this is lowkey poop im sorry

#paige bueckers #wnba #uconn wbb #wnba basketball #wcbb #wcbb x reader #uconn wcbb #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers angst #angst #fanfic #fan fiction

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cometiny · 2 months

Text

I finally finished these!

They're inspired by inside out but I split up logic instead of feelings :3

Here's some info on each of them:

Imagination (or "Mage" for short) is the star of the logic department. nothing would really work if she wasn't there to connect the dots. and since she's the only one of them capable of creating something new, I thought a witch design would really suit her. plus a witch hat always creates an unmistakable silhouette. She's white to represent a blank slate, and the other colors are close to the cmy primary colors cuz she can imagine almost anything using just a few foundational ideas :3

Interest is a curious little guy who is delighted by all things new, and unfamiliar, so I thought the alien thingies would be a cute way to represent that. He looks like a little kid bc kids love asking questions, much like he does! He loves to learn things but his attention is often split between too many things at once, and he needs the others to guide him to what he should focus on.

Evaluation (or "Eve" for short) is very put together, practical and serious, though the cape also hints at a more adventurous side, which shows her openness to new paths. Her overall appearance may seem stoic but all her clothes are quite floaty, as she's willing to consider all the options before making a decision

Bias looks like an imp cuz they're the little bug in ur brain that tells you to prioritize yourself, and she keeps track of personal goals (albeit not always long term goals.) They will often propose certain ideas and beliefs as truth, simply because believing it would be beneficial, without much regard for weather or not it's actually true.

Knowledge is the most stoic of them all. she's all facts and no bullshit. she's a bit of a housewife bc she has to maintain all the knowledge in order and clean up facts that turn out to be false while adding and sorting all the new stuff. Her input is usually dry, but it helps keep the others on track.

Doubt is responsible for sorting out disposable influences. if interest is the one to ask for an answer, her job is to question the answer, and make sure the new information is reliable enough to hold on to.

intuition is often hard to read. she's mysterious and elusive, yet wise beyond comprehension. she's a bit like royalty, as she has a lot of power in the mind, yet no one dares to really question her. It is usually assumed that there is truth in her input, even if her riddles are hard to interpret sometimes.

Reflection is like a ghost, always looking to the past, and making sense of the world retroactively. She's responsible for aligning the new with the old, and painting a picture of how things are by understanding how they (seemingly) have always been.

Perception (or "Pepper") is just a fun guy living in the moment. they're a sensory seeking type, while not doing much thinking. they kinda just walk around stating the obvious, but you'd be surprised how often that comes to use when the other guys start over-analyzing and over-interpreting everything. Much like Knowledge, Pepper also helps keep everyone on track with reality.

#my art #cartoon #inside out #inside out 2 #logic au #idk if I'm gonna make anything else with this concept #sort of just a fun design exercise for me :3

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rubylovessharks · 9 months

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floyd leech x fem reader x jade leech smut warning: this has some yandere details and this is smut. kinda dark (?) reader is fine with it though. this didnt start with an established romantic relationship with the twins but did end with one. from my (very short) research i have found some stuff about how moray eels get to the point of mating, which is to have enough food, for the water temperature to be warm and if i remember correctly the ok sign for them to mate is their mouth being open (?) so ive been thinking of this scenario for the past few days. this was longer then intended :(

You were in the Monstruo Lounge with your friends after you all finished all of your tests for this semester, you all wanted to celebrate together. So here you are talking and waiting for your orders but you feel eyes on you. I mean it makes sense because you are in a dorm full of scheming guys, so you can never tell what any of them is thinking. Yet the unnerving feeling of being watched doesn't seem to end. Little did you know that a set of twins were looking your way from not too far preparing you and your friends order.

"Ughh I just don't get why shrimpy hangs out with those guys! Like are they better then us? no!" The taller of the two pouts his face as he talks with his twin. "Now now Floyd, there's no need to worry. I know she prefers us a lot more then her..." he pauses for a moment there as to find a better word then the one he is thinking, "friends." his signature smile on his face as he finishes making your food. "how about you help me get these orders to the customers and then we'll call our lovely pearl for a little..talk?" "ohhh~ that sounds sooo much more fun then handing out orders!"

And here was your food. Delivered by the Leech twins. Their smiles uncanny yet charming, you think to yourself. It really was true that you like them over your friends. Your fantasies just as twisted as theirs, you wouldn't even mind if your food was spiked just so they could take you down into the depth of the sea.

"I hope you all enjoy your food and drinks." Jade says with a smile. His head then turns to you, "i hope you won't mind if he had a chat after you finish your dish? Me and Floyd had something we wanted to talk to you about." It wasn't everyday you were called to a one on two chat with your crushes, you nod a bit to fast with a smile that was too wide. "We hope you enjoy your meal! We worked reaaal hard on it, we even got you extra!" Floyd says as he waves to you while he and his brother walk away.

You finish your food quickly as you were excited for your interaction with the twins. You bid your friends farewell and walk to the Monstruo Lounge bar table to find the twins, instead you are greeted by Floyd. "You actually came! Saves me work. C'mon Jade is waiting in our room!" He tells you, seeing your confused look he adds, "what you didn't think we wanted to talk here. With all of those hungry eyes on you."

as you walk over to their room Floyd takes your hand roughly, squeezing it. He is also tagging you a bit but other then the rough treatment nothing really happens on your way to their room. Although you seem to notice that Floyd's eyes are on you and not the way ahead. Once you get Infront of their door Floyd slams it open, not enough to break it but you are sure they'll need to fix it later...

In the room Jade is standing there with a bunch of different stuff mostly food and bottles of water, and there's even more on their tables. "I brought them!" Floyd takes you as if showing his brother a prize he won, big smile on his face. "Floyd i am sure you are leaving a ton of bruises on them...You should let them go a little." Jade says as he finishes putting all the stuff he had in his hands on the table and turns back to the both of you. "oh come onn.. We are gonna leave marks on them anywaysss! Why not start now.." Your face turns to one of confusion after what Floyd said, what did he mean by 'we are gonna leave marks anyways'...?

"My Floyd you are scaring the poor thing." Jade gives Floyd his usual calm face. "Do not worry pearl, it won't hurt too much." he looks at you now, yet his words don't help you understand the situation any better. "I do hope you ate all of the food we gave you. We would be very upset if you didn't." He gives you a hurt face "yeaah we worked so much just to keep you from bein' hungry in our lil' session~" now you are even more confused.. "Oya? It seems she doesn't know what we are talking about. My did you not tell her brother?" "huhhh? Was I supposed tooo.."

"Alright then, dearest I hope you noticed the temperature this season. Eels don't have an actual mating cycle. We get to mating when the water temperatures are warm, that there's enough food to eat and we have all of these conditions." Now you get it...All that extra food, that talk about marks.. All of it was their natural instincts. Wait- what does that mean that they took you for that?!

"ahha! Red fits you well shrimpy~!" "It seems our little prey has understood their situation." You weren't actually listening, still trying figure out how you got both of your crushes to pick you as their mate you don't even notice as Floyd pushes you over to his brother who pushes you on the bed. "Do not worry pearl, we will take good care of you." Jade smiles at you as he starts taking your uniform off. "Can't we just rip it though?? Like she won't need it anyways if she is gonna be staying here.." "my brother where are your manners."

You try to ask what is it that they mean by that and you immediately feel small after asking. They laugh at your question, your stupid, stupid question. "My shrimpy you are so silly!" Floyd gets closer as he says that, "you won't need to go outside when you are our mate. All you need to think about is being a good lil' wifey or us, yeah?" "Floyd's right dear. The outside is no place for you, with all of those hungry, hungry people just wanting even one bite out of you! You are a lot more safer here with us." they flash a smile at you, one that should be considered creepy yet you aren't afraid at all. Instead you give one smile of your own, maybe not as creepy and sadistic, yet still a smile that says a lot from how you feel about your situation.

"Oh what a cute smile you've got there shrimpy! I just wanna squeeze you to death!!" Floyd falls on top of your body as he says that and immediately starts to touch your squishy parts. You guess that he isn't a huge fan of your clothes as he starts to claw at them trying rid of them. "Oya oya Floyd no need to claw at her clothes." The shorter twin tries to calm his twin down yet to no avail as the taller one broke the fabric with his unkept nails, scratching a bit of your skin in the processes. Seeing as he already got to break down some of your uniform he continues until he finishes destroying the piece of clothing off your body, leaving you naked and easy for the taking.

"See! I told you it'll be better if we just cut her clothes to pieces!" Floyd tells his brother, big smile on his face. His brother looks at you before answering Floyd, "my, I guess you were correct." As you look at Jade Floyd gets to work on your body, his not so human tongue all over your neck and some of your chest, licking and licking until he puts his mouth on your body.

Sharp teeth nibling on your body threatening to draw blood, as he gets closer to your most sensitive spot and he bites it. And he bites it HARD. You let out a small scream as tears well up in your eyes and you immediately feel a set of fingers on the top of your head. "shhh. As I said before this doesn't hurt too much, please try to endure for us love." Jade pets your head trying to keep you from thinking too much about the pain. You try to keep yourself from making any more pained sounds as Floyd's mouth lets go of the spot, Jade shoos Floyd to let him comfort you further as he licks the wound.

"Hey hey shrimpy now even if someone sees you they'll know who you belong to! Ain't that funn~?" You nod at him as your hand reaches to Jade's head as he still licks your wound from Floyd. "YEAH!? Greatt!! I'm so happy to know we both agree this is for the best" his smile grows wider by the second. You suddenly feel a soft kiss being placed on another sensitive spot of yours, Jade loooks up at you from his spot before speaking. "Now I want to warn you before I mark you as well love, I promise to be gentle just bear with me, alright?" you nod at his words preparing yourself before the second assault, and as Jade promised his bite is indeed more gentle then Floyd's yet it still hurts a lot.

"Heyy shrimpy how 'bout you jerk me off as Jade continues to mark you up?" You look over to Floyd as he already has his pants off and his dick out. So now you have one hand that is clenched on Jade's hair and the other is jerking Floyd's cock. You take time to take in the details of his privates, a lot more girthy then long, it gets more red as it gets to the head it would probably hurt to take into your mouth. Yet you don't think you will be against it. The closer Floyd is to orgasam the louder his noises are.

You feel Jade stop what he was doing and his head's direction turns to Floyd. "Don't you want to have your first orgasam of the session inside of her Floyd?" "ugh get off my back I can paint both her outside and insides white. It doesn't matter!" Even though it is clear Jade doesn't approve of his twin's way of thinking, he can do nothing as Floyd releases his come over your stomach and chest.

"Heyy Jade think lil' shrimpy could take the both of us in the same time?" Floyd looks over to Jade with a sadistic smile, "my not with her dry her flods are!" your privates are in fact not dry at all, how wet do you even have to be to properly take them?! "Oh don't worry love. I'll make sure you can take us both as soon as I finish eating you out." "whatt? I was hoping I could eat her out first!" "you can take her mouth if you'd like. I'm sure it's just as fun."

Right when they finished arguing they both got into position. They lay you down on the bed so your head would stick out for Floyd to have easy access to your mouth, and for Jade to have an easy access to your privates. Jade's own mouth is skilled enough to please you to orgasm after a short while of just some licks and tongue fucking, while Floyd abused your mouth and throat already getting close to his second orgasm.

That's what your few next hours looked like. Sucking on Floyd's cock as he throat fucks you and as his balls slap against your face. Having Jade in between your legs fingering you, sucking on your clit and of course, tongue fucking you. You came so many times by now you have lost count! Of course Floyd isn't any different.. Stuffing and messing your throat, mouth and face with his sticky cum.

"Don't you think she is ready to finally take us both?"

#jade leech #floyd leech #leech twins #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #floyd twst #jade twst #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #smut #twst smut #floyd leech smut #jade leech smut #yandere x reader #yandere floyd x reader #yandere jade x reader #yandere floyd leech #yandere jade leech #twst

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luveline · 1 year

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𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

when internet trolls poke fun at your appearance while working on a case, hotch is there to make you feel better. fem!reader, 3k

tw cyberbullying, poor eating habits, criminal minds typical violence

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You're not a media liaison or anything close, but with JJ off for maternity leave and Penelope in Quantico, there's a face needed for the press announcement on TV, and you offer to step in.

You aren't particularly eager to do it, but Hotch doesn't have the time or wherewithal and such a high intensity case, not while Spencer is at half-mast, migraines rendering him ineffective and stubborn. You're trying to keep the ship sailing smoothly, doing your part of the profiling while juggling media and supporting the police sergeant that's heading the tip line.

You're not expecting to become a joke. After a red-eye, three sleepless nights trying to find a missing woman in Oklahoma —the domestic violence capital— and a full day without something to eat, you're aware you don't look your best, but you aren't sure what that has to do with your missing person.

The FBI — fugly bitches International. #FindDanaLangley

Damn, are they not letting those agents sleep or what? She looks terrible !

she should be less worried about Dana Langley and more concerned with the dead woman in the mirror, ew

hope theu find her just so they stop putting this creature on TV #FindDanaLangley

"Well," you murmur, wondering if it would be inappropriate to burst into tears, "these aren't especially helpful."

Derek looks at you, his gaze measured, and you know he's not sure how to react to you or what's happening. He settles on his usual loving encouragement, because he's a very good friend.

"Don't listen to all that," he says, throwing his arm around your shoulder, "those trolls wouldn't know beautiful if it hit them in the face. But we could always try it?"

You sink into his hold, needing the reassurance even if you wish you didn't. "No hitting," you say, covering your mouth to hide a large and possibly fugly yawn. Your head is racing with regurgitated insults. "It doesn't matter, Derek. Promise. We have bigger stuff to deal with."

The door opens and Hotch and Emily step inside, Rossi just behind them. You're thinking Hotch is going to agree with your sentiment, no time for comfort when a woman's life is at stake, so you move away from Morgan to sit in front of your laptop again.

"Is something wrong?" Hotch asks.

You meet his eyes just long enough to smile at him. "Nothing. What did Amandla have to say?"

Emily retells the alibi of Dana's ex-girlfriend and is clearly suspicious but without proof, you're forced as a team to move on to the next lead. Spencer returns shortly afterward and you try to brainstorm your next step.

It's Penelope that pulls through. "You asked me to cross reference the neighbours at Dana's previous address with people crossing state lines, right, after that one guy ended up being kinda icky? Well I did that, and nothing came up, which was–"

"Garcia," Hotch interrupts.

"Right. Long story short, one of the neighbours recently had an extreme falling out with Icky Guy after a years long friendship, his name is Justin Mantova, he has extreme PTSD with documented episodes of confused aggression, and he's been seen coming in and out of a storage unit in Paseo Storage Solutions for the past four days."

"Address?" Hotch asks.

"Already sent to your phones."

"Thank you, Pen," you say.

"Just go catch the bad guy, pretty girl," she says.

Ah, so she's seen the tweets too. You frown rather than smile, reminded again of what's been said and wishing you could be anywhere else.

You get your wish and forget all about personal grievances for a while, concerned with the safe location and extraction of Dana Langley. The operation is clean, and she's hurt but has a great chance at a full recovery. It's quick, it's professional.

You're falling asleep in the SUV on the way back. Hotch at the wheel, Spencer in the backseat, you rub your eyes from the passenger side and try not to look suspiciously morose, but it's impossible. Hotch is too good at his job.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" he asks. With Spencer's window open and the wind whipping, it's hard to hear him.

"Hm?"

"Is everything okay?"

"I'm just tired." You don't look at him. It's rude of you, but if what they've said is true —you'd seen the photographs, and you looked tired, sure, but you still looked like you. "Just tired," you say again. You snap your mouth closed when your voice wobbles.

Hotch is regularly too sweet on you. Most of the team say it's a crush. Emily calls it 'character development. Whatever it is, he's nice to you. He warmed up to you near immediately when you first joined the team, and he's been as welcoming months later as he was in your first week.

Maybe he feels sorry for me, you think, submerging yourself inch by inch into self pity.

The three of you regroup with the others at the police station to pen immediate recounts of what happened before you can forget, tying up loose ends.

Finally you're able to go back to the hotel. Another half an hour and you're in the lobby.

"We'll go home in the morning. Nine AM flight, meet in the lobby at eight thirty," Hotch says. "Get some rest."

You disband. They've squeezed you in all over the place, and you're lucky enough to be next to the elevator on the second floor. Hotch is the third floor, and everyone else the sixth, so you say goodbye to your colleagues and exit the elevator, stepping onto the second floor with a parting smile.

You can't know it, but Hotch notices the way your smile falls before the doors have well and truly closed. Your shoulders slump in defeat.

You trudge into your room and don't bother turning on the lights. The door closes behind you and the mask you'd been holding up starts to crack. You put your laptop in the closet despite temptation to boot it up, knowing no good can come of looking at the tip hashtag again.

You head into the bathroom to pee, and you're confronted with your appearance as you wash your hands.

You stare at yourself.

You look tired.

Tears well as you look at yourself. You're not those things those people said. You're pretty, and when you smile everyone knows it. There's nothing so beautiful as a smile. You can't summon one, but you know it's the truth.

Or, it should be.

A single tear falls down your cheek, quickly followed by a second, and a third from the other eye. You ignore them, tracing the line of your bottom lip, the texture of your skin on your cheeks, the slight sunken effect of your under eyes.

A knock makes you flinch. "Fuck," you say, wiping your cheek with the back of a hand, twisting on the spot like looking into your room might reveal whoever it is at the door. Probably one of your team. "Hello?" you call.

"It's me. It's Hotch. I know it's after hours, but I wanted to speak with you."

Whatever reassurance he has to give might actually make this all much worse. You don't want any pity from anybody, you just want today to be over. Still, you wiggle your toes into the plush hotel carpeting, debating only for a moment about the pros and cons of pretending to be asleep.

"Hey," you say, opening the door. You wipe your eyes and hope he takes it for a tired gesture rather than a method of hiding the glassy sheen at your waterline. "Hi, Hotch, how are you feeling?"

"Fine. Tired. Thank you for asking."

"Do you want to come in?" you ask.

"Please."

Hotch follows you into your room. There's an armchair across from the bed next to a desk and an old TV sitting atop it. Your suitcase is still open on your bed, your pyjamas crumpled in the shell. You close it before Hotch can see. That's another thing to add to your list: being a slob.

"It's very clean in here," he says.

You startle. "What?"

"It's clean, considering how long we've been here. Have you ever seen Spencer's room at the end of a case?" he asks.

"No, is it bad?"

"It's like a paper hurricane."

You look down at your knees, hyper aware of his gaze on your face, tired of feeling uneasy in your skin.

"I wanted to say thank you for doing the press release yesterday. You did an amazing job. It's something to be proud of."

Of course he's talking about the press release, the one thing you need to not think about.

"Did Derek tell you?" you ask.

"Tell me what?" he asks, voice sharpening.

You look up. Hotch is a picture of concern, professionalism slightly off centre.

"Nothing."

"Something's been bothering you. Something Derek should've told me, I'm guessing."

You chew over your words. "Uh. Hotch, it's really nothing, it's a hiccup. The press release, I…" You really don't want to have to say it. The words get stuck at the back of your throat.

He leans forward. "What?"

"I looked sick. On TV. I looked really unwell, and it– it actually–" Why are you stammering? What's wrong with you? You laugh and it's not your laugh but it's better than your nonsense stuttering. "Sorry. On the press release, I didn't look my best, and it was a hot topic. That's what I thought Derek told you about. But I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me, Hotch."

"I don't feel sorry for you."

You wince, "No, of course not."

"Two seconds," he says, putting his hand forward in the air between you. "A hot topic? I don't understand." He looks genuinely apologetic.

"The tip line got clogged up with comments about my appearance," you say. You phrase it as a professional error rather than the embarrassing event it represents in your personal life.

His lips curl downward. "Saying you looked tired."

"Saying I looked unagreeable."

"As a friend," he says, tone softening, "could you tell me what they said?"

Heat blooms in your cheeks and behind your eyes, your throat aching as you scratch at a nonexistent itch in the crook of your elbow. "Um. Well, there was a lot of them, and they weren't all about me, but the ones I saw, they seemed to think I needed more sleep. That I–"

Hitch rarely interrupts, but something in your voice must impel him. "What did they say?" he asks again.

"That I looked like a creature. That they hoped Miss Langley would be found, so that they didn't have to see my face on TV again. Hotch," you say, your throat sounding as tight as it feels, "it was pretty bad, but it really doesn't matter."

"I think it matters if it's upset you," he says.

He has the warmest voice when he wants it to be, so dulcet, almost melodic. You'd think it was a practised phrase, but he speaks freely.

"It didn't," you lie.

Pointless in your line of work and automatic anyways. Hotch doesn't deny you the safety of your untruth, but he doesn't entertain it, either.

"You're beautiful when you're tired," he says.

You don't mean to, but you hold your breath. The silence that follows his remark is deafening.

"You're beautiful," he says, again, as though you could've missed it the first time. "Regrettably, you're very tired, but you don't look any less pretty. Don't think what was sent in to the tip line has any merit."

"Are you saying that as my friend or my boss?" you ask. It's meant to be a joke that lightens the mood.

"Neither," Hotch says.

You gawp, and then falter. "Why…"

Hotch is close enough to offer a hand, and you're feeling stupid enough to take it. He squeezes tenderly, looking you straight in the eye. "I'm sorry about what's being said. I had no idea. We can pull the video, and the tipline should stop now Dana's been found, but it doesn't erase what's already happened. I'm so sorry. It's not right, and it's not fair."

"It's a hard job, right?" you ask.

His hand is so so big, and not as soft as you'd pictured. It doesn't make a difference, not when he's touching you like you might shatter.

"That's not the job," he says.

"It's silly to care, though. About what other people think."

"I hope you care about what I think. The merit of an opinion comes from the person, and the relationship you have with them. Anyone who knew you would know that you're beautiful."

"Inside that counts," you say, not fully comforted, but trying to give him an out.

"You're beautiful on the outside," he says, giving your hand a small shake. "You're an amazing woman, of course. But I, for one, enjoyed seeing your face on TV."

You try not to smile too hard, directing your gaze at your joined hands lest he get a read on you.

Hotch must know how you feel about him. He'd be an awful profiler if he didn't. You fawn when you're around him even now, months down the line from your very first meeting when you were sure your heart would ricochet from your chest, the intensity of your instant crush like nothing you'd felt, not even as a schoolgirl. He'd been tall, striking, classically handsome and completely unaware of the fact. Now he's sitting across from you and he doesn't seem so tall, nor so striking. His caring side shines like a gem. It's blinding, and it really does make you feel better.

"I cried in the bathroom," you confess, rubbing your thumb against his in minute, near imperceptible circles. "I wish it didn't matter to me, how I looked. I know I was doing something important, and there wasn't time to freshen up. Maybe I should've just asked somebody else."

"You did it perfectly. You were perfect. No one else could have delivered the profile to the public that professionally, and that astutely."

Hotch stands up, and you don't know what to do. You decide to look up at him just as he takes your face into his hands.

"No crying in bathrooms, okay? It would… it breaks my heart thinking about it. You come to me."

Such a dramatic statement, yet Hoch lays it out like it's an unquestionable truth. No bravado, only a sincerity that makes your throat hurt. His frown slides back into place as his palms warm your cheeks.

"You're so busy, I could never," you say, shaking your head.

"Time and place, sure, but. I will always try to make time for you. I hope you know that by now."

You nod dazedly. Hotch's hands drag with a pressure down to your neck, your shoulders, leaving tingling skin in their wake. He looks at you and time stretches, a few seconds pulled out of order. It's his closeness, and his affectionate, empathetic smile.

You nod again.

He relaxes.

"Try and get some rest, okay? You need to take care of yourself. I know it's hard to ignore how you feel, I know today was hard, but you're one of the strongest people I've ever met. I have faith in you." He gives your shoulder a final squeeze. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," you say. It comes out much more quietly than intended.

"Rest, honey. Call me if you're upset again. I mean it."

He smooths your cheek with the back of his forefinger and you wonder if this is some weird fantasy. Hotch makes for the door, and you know for sure it's real when he says, "And no more caffeine tonight."

"No more caffeine," you agree.

He doesn't realise he's twice as bad as a coffee. Your heart races all by itself, his phantom touch on your cheek.

—

"Hi, beautiful," Derek says.

"There's the girl of the hour," Rossi says.

You roll your arm in a bow, eyes stinging from the bright lobby lights but otherwise quite happy. Hotch called you beautiful last night. Hotch called you honey. People on the Internet who have nothing better to do thought you looked gross, but Hotch thinks you're pretty. It's hard to focus on the negative with a positive that good.

"Good morning, my favourite boys," you say sweetly.

Spencer looks up from his book. "Hey."

"You didn't say hello," you say, "you excluded yourself."

Spencer frowns and goes back to his book. You offer him a mini cookie from your pocket and he perks up, better when you whisper, "You know you're my favourite, Reid."

"We all know that's a lie," Emily says, rolling her small suitcase to your left and nearly trampling your foot.

"Unfortunately so," Rossi agrees.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hotch looks chipper this morning, doesn't he?" Derek asks, nodding. You follow his nod too quickly and give yourself away, earning a scattered round of laughter from your tired team. "Got you."

"Laugh it up," you say. You're on a high that can't be killed, even with their collective teasing.

"Why are we laughing?" Hotch asks from behind you.

You jump half out of your skin.

"We were laughing at Y/N's swift observational skills, but we spoke too soon," Emily says.

Hotch takes a moment to smile at you. "Hey, you look a little more rested. Feeling better?"

A flush rises to your cheeks. "Much," you say, sounding foreign to your own ears.

Hotch gives a pleased nod and clasps your shoulder gently before manoeuvring around you. "Let me go see where JJ is."

He walks around the lobby corner and into the hotel restaurant. You have your face in your hands before he's gone, harassed by quiet whistles and giggling.

"She's so embarrassed!" Rossi cheers, like a proud dad. "How hopeless, young love."

"Someone please shut him up," you beg, rubbing your aching eyes. It's an excuse to hide your smile a moment longer.

"Are you still tired?" Spencer asks. "You look tired."

"She does not," Derek says severely.

You raise your head with a smile. Tired or not, Hotch thinks you're beautiful. He liked seeing you on TV. You lavish the memory.

"I'm genuinely exhausted," you say eventually, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek as you stand tall again.

"I want whatever kind of tired you're feeling," JJ says as she arrives, Hotch a step behind her.

You meet his eyes. You think he might not acknowledge what's been said between you —it wasn't strictly professional to have held your face in his hands like that, after all— and the beginnings of disappointment creep in, until he stands at your side, his fingertips brushing yours. It cannot be accidental.

"She wears it well, doesn't she?" he asks the group. He gives no time for an answer. "Everyone ready?"

You practically vibrate your way to the SUV. Not a bad case, as they go.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, so much! I hope you enjoyed! if you did and you have the time, please consider reblogging cos it makes me happy <3

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotch hotchner

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likedovesinthewindd · 8 months

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pookie!!! saw u are taking saltburn requests!!!!

thoughts on farleigh + reader with the same amount of snark as him?? like initially not being able to STOMACH each other & biting each other’s heads over (both ignoring felix’s groaned requests to “keep the peace”) and then being like…. wait why r u….kinda……

just that back and forth banter would be so good with him + ur WRITING!!! big smooches mwah

ugghh your mind!! love this and love you, sending smooches back ×100 !!! (fem!reader, wc: ±1700)

"I don't understand what's wrong?" you asked, briefly looking over your essay again before sparing your tutor a confused glance, waiting for his input instead. "There's nothing wrong with it," Farleigh's voice only deepened your frown, "It's just a little... loose."

"Loose?"

"Yeah, loose. You don't have a really strong argument," he continued, head resting in his palm as he peered at you from where he sat on the couch. "I'm sorry, but I don't agree with you. My argument is quite coherent right throughout," you said. "Maybe, but is it convincing?" he said, small smile on his lips that made your blood boil.

"Okay," you sighed softly, "How about your essay, Farleigh?" you asked, internally reveling at the way his cocky smile faltered. "I'm working on it," he huffed after a short pause. "Well until then, keep your comments to yourself."

"I was just trying to help," he retorted.

"Oh, screw you."

"Alright, I think we can end tonight's session early. Give you some time to finish up," your lecturer interrupts. "And give you, mister Start, time to actually begin?" he gives Farleigh a pointed look.

You hastily packed your things away before wordlessly making your way out. Your poor tutor must've been used to the two of yours constant arguing by now, seeing as that was how many of your sessions ended. You never saw eye to eye and the banter was stupid most of the time, but Farleigh had a way of getting under your skin like no one else could.

You were beginning to think he had some sort of personal vendetta against you, even though you really couldn't think of ways that you've wronged him in the past that deserved that sort of behavior. He loved embarrassing you, and as many times as you've tried to be the better person, you just couldn't help from slipping your own little comments, satisfaction only really gained when you managed to wipe the smug smile from his face.

Farleigh had completely spoiled your mood, and you figured the best way to forget about your day would be to go out for a few drinks. You definitely felt like a loser going to the pub alone but you wouldn't have been great company anyway. You however, very quickly regretted your decision when you saw the very source of your foul mood sitting by one of the tables causing a commotion as he often did. Felix saw him before he did, excitedly calling out to you and asking you to join them.

Farleigh wasn't as excited as the rest of the table at your presence, but you refused to let him ruin your night.

"Funny seeing you outside." Farleigh said, ashing his cigarette in the ashtay in the middle of the full table. "Why would it be funny?" you asked. He pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows. "You're just such a homebody, hardly see you anywhere," he said. "But it's probably for the best, right?" he added, and you already sensed a verbal lashings following. "You'll need all the extra study time if you're gonna keep up."

"Farleigh," Felix silently scolded, but by now your heart was already beating in your ears, irritation setting deep inside your chest and making you feel hot with rage.

You bit the inside of your cheek. "You always seem to forget that you got into Oxford on favors," you said, watching the way the corner of his mouth twitched, facade still holding strong. "I'm not the one partying my life away. If anyone needs extra study time, it's you." In retrospect, it probably was a low blow, but the ethical line was hardly visible when it came to Farleigh.

The silence at the table was all consuming, and Felix, like the godsend he was, decided to speak up and end the wordless staring competition between the two of you. "Okay, uhm, shots. We need shots," he said, everyone quickly agreeing with him. "C'mon Farleigh, come help me," he said, practically dragging the boy along with him.

From there it only got worse the more time the two of you spent together, which was quite frequently because you ran in the same circles. You were friends by chance, only really connected through Felix, who you've known for years. Your mothers were friends, and the two of you quickly became close through her visits to their sprawling estate, often dragging you along. You've met Farleigh through Felix, and though it was evident the two of you didn't get along, Felix was still determined to try and make it work.

₊˚⊹

You were beyond relieved to be able to spend the summer away from uni and get a chance to breathe again without any academic stress. You had planned to visit your mother back home until Felix had asked you to come to Saltburn to spend the summer with them instead.

"C'mon," he tried, "Venetia will be so happy to see you again. And mum." You bit the inside of your cheek, contemplating his offer carefully. It wasn't an extremely difficult decision; the days at Saltburn served as some of the best memories you've ever made.

You certainly didn't regret accepting his offer either. The last few weeks have been amazing at the grand estate, exciting and overwhelming in the best way. It would've, however, been much better if Farleigh wasn't looming over you like a dark cloud. You genuinely tried to keep the peace, but he knew exactly how to aggravate you. You could see it was beginning to irritate everyone around you, especially Felix.

"Will this work for tonight?" you asked, smoothing your hand over the soft material of the dress. It was so easy to run out of appropriate attire when you had to give your best every night at Saltburn. Tonight was special, and although you weren't specially dressing up for the Henry's, you still didn't want to embarrass Elsbeth by being underdressed.

Venetia was lounging in the bed while you paced around the room. "You've already worn that dress," she said, making you huff. "I know," you whispered. "We can get something from my closet," she said as she stood up from the bed and made her way to you. "Or we can ask mum. Don't worry," she added with a smile.

₊˚⊹

The dinner was kind of dull, the Henry to your left not nearly as entertaining as the one to Venetia's left judging by the quick glances she spared you every time one of his jokes fell flat. Every now and then, your attention would sneak over to Farleigh; a pensive look thredded between his furrowed brows when his eyes caught yours.

The highlight of your night was definitely after dinner, when sir Catton had suggested karaoke. You were quite amused by Henry's rendition as the lot of you watched as the man made a fool of himself. Farleigh took a seat next to you on the couch, sparing you a smile.

"You clean up nicely," he smiled, sparing a look down at your dress, the sparkly material reflecting the warm light from the fire. His hand ghosted over the necklace around your neck, fingers tracing over the small pendant. You prayed that he didn't notice the way your breath caught in your throat at the little bit of contact.

"Thanks," you answered, smoothing a hand over the lapel of his suit jacket. "You don't look too bad yourself." He only scoffed, eyes now focused on your hand as it retracted from his chest. You didn't spare him another look, attention refocusing on Henry's recital.

The whole affair was getting boring, and before you knew it, your thoughts were back to Farleigh, a question on your mind that you've been burning to ask him. "Can I ask you a question?" you turned, asking before you lost your confidence. He raised his eyebrow in interest, urging you to continue. "Why do you hate me?" you asked. The question caught him off guard, rendering him speechless for the first time since you've known him.

"I don't," he started before scoffing, "I don't hate you." You pursed your lips, shaking your head in disagreement. "You do. At least you act like you do." He only smiled, shuffling closer on the couch, face impossibly closer to yours as he gave you a once-over.

Even though the topic was quite loaded, it was ironically the calmest conversation the two of you have had in a long time. It was reminiscent of the time the two of you were younger and still getting to know each other. Somewhere along the line, something shifted, and he started treating you like shit. You only returned the favor.

"You weren't always this mean either," you added. His eyes still examined the expanse of your face; trailing down the slope of your nose and into the dip of your cupids bow. His attention made you feel self-conscious in a way, tongue poking out to wet your lips.

You had no reason to even feel self-conscious, but Farleigh had a special talent for making you feel small in his presence. Somewhere beneath the irritation and resentment hid a feeling that made warmth settle deep in your belly everytime you saw him. It's a feeling you only gave yourself the luxury of experiencing in the dead of the night when your thoughts were all that kept you awake. The overbearing anger would subside and then that funny feeling would settle over your body and deep inside your chest in a near painful way.

You never called it by it's name, too scared that if you did it would manifest itself and become reality. But now as the two of you sat on the couch, the cheering and singing fading into background noise as a pair of deep brown eyes stared into yours, you finally had to courage to admit it to yourself.

"I don't hate you," he repeated one more time, voice slightly breathless and a sullen look on his face. "On the contrary, actually." That made you laugh almost too loudly. "So what," you scoffed, "you act like a teenage boy and pick on me because you had a crush on me?"

He shrugged, the motion causing the refined material of his suit to rub against your arm. "Maybe I just wanted your attention," he smiled, placing a brief kiss to your cheek before briskly getting up from the couch to cut Henry's musical number short. You uncleanched your balled fists that were bunching up the expensive material of your dress, the tension leaving your body with a sigh once Farleigh's words register.

#saltburn #farleigh start x reader #farleigh start x you #farleigh x you #farleigh x reader #farleigh start #likedovesinthewindd

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