#babies!!!!! don't apologise for your requests!!!!!!!!!
Note
could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐
mad at you | l.mk
“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”
💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we
❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.
❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader
❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex
❯ words: 4.3k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.
an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.
The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had.
But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales.
You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.
So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment.
He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think.
He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous.
The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.
“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”
You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy.
“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”
You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”
"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."
Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath.
“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”
“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”
He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”
“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”
“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”
You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.
“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug.
“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”
“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap.
Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair.
“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”
You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought.
“Oh, so you want to break up?”
He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”
The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other.
Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.
Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.
“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”
“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it.
Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument.
He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.
After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys.
It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy.
Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.
Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to.
As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes.
You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.
The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.
However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.
“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.
You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”
Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.
His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head.
"I thought you left..."
Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.
“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw.
You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap.
He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”
His kindness only amplifies your guilt.
"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."
Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."
"No—"
He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."
Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.
"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."
"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"
Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"
His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.
"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."
You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”
You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.
Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.
His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.
Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.
You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.
He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.
“‘s okay,” you whimper.
Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.
He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock.
He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too.
And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers.
“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”
You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud.
“Mark…”
“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.”
You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.
And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.
As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been.
You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.”
He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock.
Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does.
The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.
You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick.
You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment.
Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.
Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.
And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more.
You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you.
So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...
“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”
You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.
“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”
And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax.
And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back.
The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do.
You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed.
You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.
"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.
"I’m sorry," you say softly.
You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."
#🏷frompaige#mark lee smut#nct dream smut#nct 127 smut#nct smut#mark lee x reader#nct dream x reader#nct 127 x reader#nct x reader#kpop smut#nct hard hours#nct oneshot
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Really specific web weaving suggestion? If you can i mean<3
Loving someone and telling them and them loving you back but being too much of a coward to do something.
It's really specific i understand if you don't wanna do it
walter benjamin selected writings, vol i: 1913-1926: "one way street" (tr. edmund jephcott) (via @soracities) \\ hélène cixous the selected plays of hélène cixous: "portrait of dora" (via @theoptia) \\ in the mood for love (2000) dir. wong kar wai \\ hélène cixous the selected plays of hélène cixous: "the perjured city" (via @theoptia) \\ katherine larson radial symmetry: "almost a figure" (via @feral-ballad) \\ hélène delmaire
kofi
#on love#asks#wysleria#i took so long with this you changed your username i'm so sorry :')#babies!!!!! don't apologise for your requests!!!!!!!!!#helene cixous#hélène cixous#the selected plays of hélène cixous#portrait of dora#edmund jephcott#walter benjamin#radial symmetry#katherine larson#hélène delmaire
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Making You Cry [JJK Men]
Request: How would Gojo, Nanami, Toji and Sukuna react if they make their lover cry? Maybe they say something super mean to them during an argument (you don't have to write what they say, just how they react to seeing her cry because of them)
Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji and Sukuna
── Gojo freezes as soon as that tear falls from your eye. God no, what has he done? He shuffles closer to you immediately, hands reaching to cup your face, his thumbs wiping the tears that roll down your cheeks.
"sssh, I'm so sorry, baby.." he says softly, brushing strands of your hair away from your face. "Please don't cry."
"Meanie," you sniffle as he hugs you, pulling you to his chest. He kisses the top of your head before letting out a soft chuckle.
"I know, so sorry, sweetheart."
── The last thing Geto wanted was to see you cry. He hated how the tears spilled past your eyes, how the poorly muffled sobs escapes your lips. He hated it with every fibre of his being.
"I..." he's unable to speak, fists clenching in anger. He's angry at himself. He was supposed to make you happy, not upset.
His hands grasp your face, thumbs wiping off your tears.
"S-Suguru..." the pained tone of your voice makes his gut wrench. How could he even do this to you?
"I'm sorry, my love." He pulls you into a gentle embrace, large hand supporting the back of your head as he comforts you. "Don't cry...I'm sorry."
── Had Nanami known his words would've caused you to cry, he would've done everything in his power to refrain himself from saying so. Now you're in pain. And it's because of him. He can't bear it.
"Please don't cry, love," he mumbles, guilt tugging at his heart. He sighs, taking your hands in his. "Please..."
"K-Kento.." he swears your trembling voice breaks his heart into two. He pulls you into a warm embrace, shushing you softly.
"So sorry, darling. I'm so sorry."
── Your crying would not follow and immediate apology from Toji. He's bad at apologising, but the sight of your tears, and the fact that his words were the reason for it, ate him up inside. He sighs, sitting you on his lap, brushing your tears away.
"Look at me, baby."
His expression softens as he sees your puffy eyes, eyes and ears red from crying. How could he possibly live with the fact knowing that he's the reason for it?
"I'm sorry," he grumbles, a hint of guilt evident in his tone. Pulling you closer to his chest, he holds you for a while to help ease you up. He'll never hurt you again.
── You must be an idiot if you believe Sukuna, the king of curses, would ever apologise. Sukuna's pride is much greater than his guilt- that is, if he felt any. He would never say sorry.
However, his apology lies in his actions. That night, he climbs into your bed and shuffles close to you as you sleep, studying your face. Then, he kisses your reddened nose (thanks to all the crying) and pulls you closer to him.
"Brat," he mutters to himself. But he never wants to see his brat cry again.
That's it. That's his apology. If you ever speak of how you ended up in his arms the next morning- he'll kill you.
#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#gojo imagine#gojo x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji imagine#toji x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#sukuna imagine#ruins posts
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── “Inconvenience” [Ryomen Sukuna]
Request — I love love love love love your fav concubine/queen stories with sukuna 😍😍😍😍❤️❤️❤️❤️ can I request a story where for the concubine rides sukuna's tummy tongue until he's completely satisfied , like edge play/multiple orgasm or pregnant sex where the queen is really needy and horny for her husband after he has spent so much time outside.
A/N — hi nonnie, tysm for requesting <3 hope you don't mind, but I went with preggo sex cuz I'm not comfy writing fics with his belly mouth involved yet, so I'm really sorry. Hope you enjoy this though.
Warnings — pregnant sex, praise, creampie, nipple play, true form! Sukuna
Minors DNI
"S'kuna, missed you so much..." you mumble softly, face buried in his chest. He was met by such an adorable sight the moment he returned— his adorable, pretty lil wifey with a small yet visible baby bump rushing to greet him and capturing him in a hug. He chuckles, patting your head softly.
"That so? just how much did you miss me, my Queen?" he places a finger beneath your chin, gently nudging you to look up at him. One of his other hands are placed on your hip, his thumb tracing your slightly swollen belly.
"Too much, Sukuna..." you reply with a frown. Your hormones were driving you mad. Carrying the child of the king of curses wasn't easy, your needs increased phenomenally. You needed Sukuna more than ever, you needed him to be by your side, saying soft and comforting things to you, reminding you of how good you are, how proud he is of you for carrying his little heir.
He chuckles again, a hand reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "Well, I'll have to apologise to my Queen for causing her such inconvenience, no?"
"You better," you pout, tiptoeing in an attempt to get a kiss. He smiles and pulls you close, bending a bit to give you a well-deserved kiss. You whimper softly as he bites your lower lip, his tongue swirling around yours, driving you crazy. You needed him so, so, so bad.
He parts, allowing you your oxygen, a thumb tracing your lower, swollen lips slightly. Goodness, you had gotten so beautiful with his heir growing in you. A hand traces the line of your back, causing shivers to run down your spine, "My beautiful queen..."
A short gasp escapes you as his fingers finds your loosely tied obi— untying it in a single moment. Your kimono loosely falls at your sides, and Sukuna gently places you back on your bed where you lay resting before his return. He presses a few kisses on the soft skin of your neck, relishing your scent— one he had to unwillingly part from for a few days.
"Magnificent..." he mutters, trailing kisses before stopping at the swell of your breasts, which had swollen significantly thanks to the pregnancy. He chuckles darkly, cupping your sore tit with one hand, making you whine softly before his lips latch onto your nipple, sucking deviously on the sore skin.
"N–Ngh...S'kuna..." you let out a soft moan, fingers tugging on his pink hair slightly as you feel the wetness grow between your thighs. You rub your legs together to soothe the growing ache. Sukuna, noticing soon, parts from your nipple with a smile, a string of saliva dissolving as he does.
"Feeling needy, are we?" he speaks, his finger reaching below to trace your dripping folds from over the cloth. "Ah...so needy, my queen." he chuckles, feeling the wetness grow and watching you squirm, eyes pleading him to continue.
"Speak, my Queen..." he smirks, teasing you by torturously tracing his finger up and down, finding your sensitive clit. You're a mess and he hasn't even begun yet.
"S-Sukuna–ah, please!" the plea escapes your lips, "N-Need you," you say in a raspy voice. The hormones had gotten you so needy and sensitive for him. He chuckles, the no-good panties ripped off from you in an instant, revealing your glistening cunt.
"How cute." he smirks, beginning to undress himself, the kimono falling off his body, the silk material falling of his body. You eye your husband with your needy eyes— making quite a cute sight for his. He reveals his cock– veiny, throbbing, pre-cum dripping down from his tip. Such a sight could make you drool on spot...
"Ready, my Queen?" he asks, a smile on his lips as he rubs the tip against your puffy lips. You give him a weak nod, as he prods his cock into your entrance, making you gasp at the sensation of his girth slowly filling up your tight entrance. "S-Sukuna!"
He enters your heat fully, making you feel every inch of him, and added your grown sensitivity from your hormones— every push, every pull, every caress on your skin, it drove you crazy. "O-Oh, Sukuna-Ah!" you moan, wrapping your hands weakly around his neck.
He begins to rock his thick length in and out of your tight cunt, which welcomed it warmly, squeezing around it everytime. He groans, feeling the slick coat his cock, feeling the warmth of your sweet cunt tightening around him, leaning down to kiss you and leave your lips swollen, feeling your round tits bounce up and down with each thrust against his chest.
"Cum for me, my precious..." he grunts, feeling your gummy walls tighten around him a bit more, knowing you're nearing your sweet release. "Mnhh...S'kuna!!" you moan out loudly, a clear liquid gushing over his cock as your walls clamp around him, your head buried in the crook of his neck, making him grin merrily.
A few more thrusts, and he finds himself close to release too, he grunts audibly before emptying his seed into you. A soft whine escapes your lips as you feel the warm sticky liquid fill you up, feeling more sensitive than ever. He pulls out, looking at his cum gush out of your cunt slowly, proud of the mess he created.
His eyes shift back at your tired form, and he leans to press a kiss to your forehead, gently brushing the strands of your hair from my face before he grins at you, "Hope that was enough to make up for the inconvenience caused."
You, through heavy breaths, manage to give him a soft and sweet smile, "Will do..."
He smiles at your response, laying himself beside you, kissing your forehead softly. His fingers gently traces the swell of your belly. "You did well, my love..." he says softly, allowing you to rest as you cuddle up to him.
A hand rests on your head and the other on your belly, he's enthralled by the fact that there's a tiny version of him on the way. And you're the one who's giving him this blessing. His precious queen.
"I'm so proud of you," he mutters softly, kissing the top of your head. That's the last thing you hear before slipping into sleep's sweet embrace.
#jujutsu sukuna#jjk smut#ruins posts#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#sukuna fluff#true form sukuna#sukuna imagine#ryomen sukuna smut
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pregnant reader and Spencer fic where he makes her cry on accident 😭😭
Hii lovely, ty for the request🥰! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, kisses, like one swear word, reader cries (not because of something bad tho, it's cute), use of pet names (0.6k)
Spencer is running late at least later than he'd told you he would be and he can't stress it more. You've been home alone almost the whole day, and Spencer knows you are probably more than lonely.
But even if he's already late Spencer makes one more stop to get some groceries before heading home to you.
When he finally arrives home, he can't stop apologising as you greet him by the door, the baby bump very visible underneath one of his sweaters.
"Hi sweetheart, I'm so sorry I'm late there was a problem we needed to deal with," Spencer apologises and kisses your cheek.
"It's okay, Spence," you say into his shirt, already hugging him tightly, "I missed you a lot though."
Spencer looks at you like he always does with a too loving smile, "I missed you two, too."
Spencer ushers you towards the couch, he doesn't want you to be standing for too long 'cause he knows your feet would hurt, and also because he intends to cuddle you as much as possible there.
He quickly unpacks the groceries, and remembers the snacks he's bought for you. What he doesn't know is that you've been craving exactly the same snack he's bought the entire day.
"Here I got you these sweetheart," Spencer gives the snacks to you and rushes to the bedroom to change into something much more comfortable than the suit.
You stay still, your eyes filling up with tears as you hold the snacks in your hands.
When he comes back to you, he finds you eating the snacks while the tears run down by your cheeks.
"Woah, woah, woah, what's wrong?" Spencer immediately sits next to you, and starts to wipe the tears away.
"I just....-" you start with small hiccup, "I just love you so much."
A warm chuckle escapes Spencer's mouth, before he's back to comforting you. He's read every single book there's on pregnancy, so he knows how tough it is with the changes of hormones.
"Oh, baby, I love you too is that why you're crying, huh? Or is it something else? Maybe me being late?" He really hope it isn't the latter.
"N-no, I just-... I just really wanted these snacks all day, Spence," you tell him as another set of tears escapes from your eyes, "a-and they are too good."
"Oh sweetheart, if I knew you wanted them so badly i would have bought more," Spencer tells you with a sympathetic smile.
He understands it can be a lot for you from time to time, even if it's something as simple as craving some snack, so he let's you eat your snacks while he wipes away the tears. He does that until the snacks are gone along with the tears.
You look just unhappy about finishing the snacks as you did minutes ago eating them. You give him a puppy eyes, and Spencer is up on his legs before you can even say his name.
"Spencer...?"
"Don't worry, lovely. I got it, I'll buy you more than enough," Spencer quickly gives you a kiss, and goes to put on his shoes, car keys already in his hand.
"Spence?"
"Yes?" he looks back at you so fucking lovingly completely unbothered about the fact that he has to go to the shop again that you think you might start crying again (Spencer loves you so much that it happens a lot, you crying about how much you love him).
"Of course, but only if you really want to. I don't mind going alone."
"I want to," you say enthusiasticly. That is all Spencer needs to take your shoes, and go back to you. He puts the shoes on for you, kisses your bump, and helps you get up.
"C'mon, sweetheart. I'll get you anything you want if you tell me about your day, " Spencer happily listens to you chatter about everything that crossed your mind through the day.
You and Spencer leave the shop with way too many snacks, but it's okay because you're happy as one can be and that's all Spencer needs, okay maybe the cuddles too.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid
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how about spencer x badass reader and they are wearing couple or similar clothes intentionally or unintentionally?? I think that would be cutee
tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader
"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks, sounding like a kid in a candy store, a crisp twenty in his back pocket.
Emily follows his line of sight and feels her cheeks apple unbidden, a delighted smile on her painted lips. "Oh, my god."
"Yeah, Garcia?" Derek asks, phone to his ear, Penelope first on his speed dial. "You need to come and see this. Like, right now. Don't worry, baby, just come and see it for yourself."
"I don't even know what to say." Emily stares at you.
You usually dress in line with the other women in this profession: pants that aren't too tight so you can run in if needed, a simple blouse, and a blazer if you're feeling formal.
Today, you've opted for something softer. It was a slow change, one day you were wearing a cashmere sweater, thin and fitted to your form. Another day, you chose to layer your shirt with a cardigan of a similar colour.
Right now? You're all Spencer. Your slacks remain unchanged but your blouse has been swapped for a shirt with a stiff starched collar and layered under what can only be described as a grandpa sweater. It's not quite ugly, but it's almost identical to Spencer's.
What's more, you've swapped your boots for converse.
Spencer holds the door for you. He's chosen to wear a tie at least, clinging to that last strand of professional business attire. He has two coffees, one in each hand, while you carry a box. He's all elbows as he talks to you, and you, ever his fan, follow every word with a fond smile.
"Hey, are you guys sharing a wardrobe now?" Derek asks, absolutely unwilling to hold back.
Emily piles on, "It's cute! You're totally an old married couple, you look like my grandparents."
"What happened to your boots, lovergirl?" Derek asks, nodding at your cons, arms crossed over the back of his chair casually. "Don't get me wrong, I'm loving the sneakers."
"You guys totally match," Emily coos. "You could be on a Christmas card."
You smile —you smile, Emily might just call the news— and walk past them to your desk. Hotch has moved you away from Spencer knowing you'll encourage his endless chattering, which places you on a different island of desks next to Anderson and Agent Camille.
Spencer put his coffee down on his desk, taking off his messenger bag. "Nice going, guys. She brought you donuts. You know, to apologise for calling you both antagonistic losers yesterday," he says, smiling at the mutual horror that crops up on their faces. "The fancy kind, too. She knew your favourite flavours without asking."
From her desk, Emily can see you've opened the box and offered them to your desk mates, your expression unperturbed. "Just don't touch the chocolate sprinkle ones, they're for Spencer," you say.
No matter what they say, how sorry they sound, you give out the donuts to anyone who'll take one until they're all gone. When Garcia arrives, she finds you sitting in your desk chair with your head leaning against Spencer's stomach, taking alternate bites of the same sprinkle-covered donut like it isn't the most domestic, coupley thing you could be doing.
Unlike Emily and Derek, Penelope genuinely thinks you look cute. "You guys are like Brangelina," she breathes, eyes wide, her smile infectious.
Spencer fails to hide a grin, his hand on your shoulder. You're better at controlling your emotion, sliding a small parcelled package across the desk toward her.
"Thank you, Pen," you say. "I like the shoes. They're comfy. And the sweater was a gift." Spencer nods enthusiastically.
That explains why you'd taken such an offence. Anything to do with Spencer raises your hackles. If you felt someone was making fun of his present to you, you'd defend him with your last dying breath, or, in this instance, punish your coworkers in his honour.
"I'm sorry," Derek apologises again, "I was kidding! What do you want me to do, you want me to wear a sweater vest too? I can do that."
You reach back to touch Spencer's side, levelling Derek with an impartial look. Not mad, not sad. Totally indifferent. "That could be a good start."
Spencer hums. "I think so. You wanna borrow one of mine?"
The barest hint of a smile plays on your lips. "That's generous, Spence. You're a philanthropist."
"I am." He strokes the slope of your sweater-clad shoulder proudly. "You know me, I love sharing my wardrobe."
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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hey girlie, i NEED car sex matt pls😣🙏
shut up and drive | matt sturniolo.
authors note: thank you for the request! i hope i did it justice in these 3.9k words. not proof read! sorry it takes me forever to write lol.
warnings: 18+ content. road head, handjob, fingering, soft switch!matt, somewhat dom!reader, explicit language, unprotected, semi-public indecency. reader discretion advised.
matt has a bad, almost neck breaking habit of staring at you while he's driving. you can feel his eyes on you, then glancing away, then looking through his peripheral vision to make sure you're not about to call him out.
"you're so pretty, baby" he speaks, admiring you. you chuckle, shifting in the car seat. bringing a hand around to his headrest, you play with his hair. he grips just above your knee with one hand, the other secure at the bottom of the wheel.
“eyes on the road, matthew” you tug at his hair with a warning.
he groans in complaint, a tone that would indicate he's annoyed but deep down, he loves it. he loves the sound of your direct voice, telling him to do something and then expecting it from him.
you're the only person who could make a demand and it not get under his skin, because you always mean it from a good place. that, and the fact he's utterly infatuated by you.
"you could have just said thank you" he mumbles, taking it as a hit to his joviality.
"thank you, my love" and he smiles softly and timidly at you, cheeks flushing pink at your words alone. you squeeze his cheeks to turn his head back to the road ahead and he laughs.
you smile at him with admiration. how good he looks with his sleeves rolled up at the wrists, hand lazily on the bottom of the steering wheel, silver rings wrapping around his long, slender fingers. the road ahead is empty, no cars around and the only sound being matt humming along to the music.
the sun is finally setting, and you're both drained. he's driving you both home, fidgeting in his seat as the trip feels far too long. his hips wriggle, and you can tell he needs a break from driving. the views surrounding you are monotonous, making you both heavy-eyed.
"sorry," his voice is meek, small yawn escaping his lips.
"don't apologise, matty." you laugh inwardly.
"i know, i do that a lot," he agrees, shaking off his tiredness.
if there's one person in this world he's going to agree with, it's you. even if you're completely wrong in a statement, or an idea, he's agreeing with you without justification.
"can i have a kiss?" he asks wholesomely, leaning his cheek over a little, one hand still glued to the steering wheel.
"do you think you deserve one?" you ask him warmly, turning in your seat so your body is toward him.
"i do" he nods.
"you have been good, baby." you admit.
you can already tell that matt is tense, your touch in any way at all making his skin hot. he’s been on his best behaviour the entire drive, knowing his reward at the end is you.
"i know, just for you." he speaks softly, proudly.
you exhale amusement, elbow resting on the centre console so you can get closer to matt. pressing your lips to his cheekbone, his face is warm. either from blushing or the heat he has blasting. he smiles sweetly, and satisfied.
you raise a hand to behind his headrest to start playing with his hair again. you scratch the back of his neck lightly, massaging where you can. he melts at the feeling on your nails raking through.
"that feels so good," his voice is like a record player, smooth but a little scratchy.
matt rests his right hand above your knee, giving you a squeeze to say thank you. he keeps his hand there, and it makes your heart skip a beat.
matt is still restless in his seat. you can tell by the way he's rubbing his thighs together, appearing uncomfortable. not being able to sit still.
"you feeling okay?" you ask, observing your boyfriend.
"yeah, baby" he looks at you for a split second, cautious not to linger.
you love watching him drive. the effortlessness, knowing he's in full control, the way he leans back into his seat.
readjusting in your own spot, scooting a little, his hand is forced further up your thigh. you lay your hand over his, pulling it closer up to the crease where your leg meets your hip. you feel matt's eyes dart to gaze down to where he's touching you, needing to see. you force his head back by the base of his neck, and he huffs.
"that's not fair, you're distracting me.” he comments lightheartedly.
"i'm not even doing anything" you speak defensively.
"yeah, well, it doesn't take much" he scoffs, but you know exactly what you’re doing.
you’ve been hinting all day that you can’t wait to get him home and have him all to yourself, but the temptation is tested the further into the drive you get.
"if i really wanted to distract you, i'd do this," you move your hand from his hair, to rest in his lap.
you’re blatant with your action, hand over the zipper of his pants, cupping his buldge. matt grips the steering with both hands, glancing down for a second and muttering a quick “fuck” under his breath.
“that’s really not fair” his voice quivers.
"you don't want me to touch you?" you ask sweetly. in a way that drives him insane.
your hand dances across his crotch through his jeans, his dick slowly revealing a more prominent shape under the blue fabric as he hardens. his dick leans toward his right leg, and your hand wraps around him over his pants.
"fuck, no. i mean- yes. shit, i do. just not now" he shakes his head, shifting in his seat as he positions his hands on the wheel at ten and two.
"so no touching?" you ask, rubbing him softly as he grows in your hand.
you caress his cock as his breaths become short, pulse elevating as you play with him. you feel his dick twitch as you squeeze him, and he grips the steering wheel tight enough you can hear the leather squeak.
"not while i'm driving baby, please" he whines, voice shaking as you ignore his plea and continue rubbing him, leaning over the seat so you can get a proper hold.
"you haven't been touched all day, huh baby?" you're close to his ear, and your breath hitting the skin on his neck has matt almost turning off the road.
it's taking all of his self control not to slam on the brakes. your distraction has him cautiously slowing down, despite there being no one around on the long stretch. distant headlights can be seen, a glowing blur, strained lights. but no one close enough to see your next moves.
"fuck, you're such a tease" he sighs, eyes glaring into the windshield ahead.
abruptly, you let go of his crotch. and he turns to you with furrowed eyebrows, like he hadn't just requested you stop touching him.
"you said not while you're driving. so now you can wait" you can shrug, innocently snuggling back into your spot, out of his space.
matt's mouth makes a tight ‘o’ shape, blowing out a stressed breath, like he’s whistling, but it’s silent. his nostrils flare quickly and he twists his hands on the wheel, as if to distract himself.
he rubs his hips into the seat beneath him again, and you watch as his jaw shifts, back teeth grinding momentarily. the subtle goatee on his face shadows his jaw, chin and upper lip. he looks irresistible.
matt tries to ignore his boner, but it's so prominent. he hisses through his teeth, trying to tuck himself into the band of his boxers with one hand, but anytime he swerves slightly, he gets annoyed and gives up. you bite your lip, trying to inhale back a giggle at his desperation.
"sweetheart, you need to do something about this. i-it hurts," matt's voice is strained with complaint.
you lick your lips slowly, staring at him. he turns his head to reciprocate a dark, sultry look in his eyes.
as much as you want to continue toying with him, you click your seatbelt off, gaining his attention immediately. pulling yourself up onto the leather car seat, positioning to get your knees, you guide your body over the centre console again.
this time, crawling your hands all over the leather details of his car, you grab the bottom of his seat to hold yourself up, dipping your head under his arms that are stretched out, you let your face hover over his lap.
you feel matt's eyes try to lower his gaze, to watch you over his thighs, but simultaneously force himself to be unaware of your actions.
“eyes on the road” you speak, delicate fingers pinching the zipper on his jeans to guide it down, pulling the material open to reveal his navy blue boxers, complimenting his olive skin.
you sweep your hand under the thin fabric to free his erection, tip already glistening with pre-cum. the build up from being tested all day finally coming to fruition.
"you got this worked up just from my touch?" you huff a laugh, mouth hovering over his cock once you finally free him completely.
matt's hips buck up, lower back no longer hitting the seat, arching toward you. stroking his cock in your warm hands, letting the blood rush to his pink, throbbing tip, your mouth is inches away from his length.
"this is so dangerous" his voice is unsteady, knuckles turning white with how hard he's gripping the wheel.
"shut up and drive, matthew." the second your words are out, you bridge the gap between your mouth and his dick.
quickly falling into a rhythm as you bob your head up and down on his dick, his hips jolt up into your mouth as he drives over a speed bump, making you gag.
"ahhhh, sh-shit, y/n" he groans, eyes fluttering as he tries to keep his focus on the road.
you grip his thigh, nails digging into his jeans. you hear his head loll back and hit the headrest with a thud, straining his neck as he swallows loudly. his eyes occasionally drop down to absorb the act you're putting on for him.
he drops a heavy hand onto your head, pushing your head slightly, making you take him deeper. he smirks, relishing in the choking sounds escaping your breathless moans. your hand comes up to place it on top of his, challenging him.
"oh, yeah," he huffs, interlocking your hands as he pushes your head to sink deeper and deeper with each dip of your head, making your eyes water and muffled noises escape, maintaining your breath through your nose.
he's trying his best to keep the acceleration of the car at one speed, his legs jerking and jolting every so often when he feels the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, making his driving unpredictable.
you feel his head turn and shift, checking his mirrors and blind spots, panicking anytime a car drives past on the opposite side of the road.
the vibrations of your moans combined with the tightness of your throat as you choke around him is sending the sensation straight to his balls, being tightened by his jeans cupping them.
"you're gonna make me fucking crash, sh-shit" he whines, jaw dropping as moans sporadically fall from his tongue.
matt can't take it any longer, yanking you dramatically from his dick, popping your mouth off of him with a wet sound as you coughed into the air, finally gasping a clean breath. your hand instinctively wipes your mouth, covered in his pre-cum and your own saliva.
you look up at him with big eyes, and that sends him absolutely off the rails.
"that was so fucking risky, i can't believe you," matt adjusts his grip, accelerating as he finds a clear patch of a dirt road ahead, aiming for it. your arms leans toward his dashboard, flicking his indicator on for him. you grin mischievously, biting your lip.
"then pull over so you can fuck me properly" you demand, and feel his car swerve instantly as he merges off the asphalt.
he rotates the wheel, one hand over the other in a heavy handed way, to find a safe place to park. the tyres crackle with the texture beneath you changing to gravel. your hand continues to stroke his shaft, mouth drooling with the desire to suck him off again.
matt's abs are clenching hard, back coming off from the seat again with a wince as your thumb rubs the underside of his now wet, sticky, cock.
"baby you're killing me, h-hold on, please," he whimpers, big hand coming down to grip your wrist tight as he frantically tries to put his car in park, heavy pedalling the brake finally.
matt flicks his hazards on, taking precaution even in his most chaotic, desperate state of mind. when the car is secure, your mouth comes down to suckle on his tip, before sliding down the length of his cock again. matt finally drops his shoulders and eases into the seat comfortably, not having the added stress of driving.
"feels so good, holy shit," his eyes clench closed before he exhales, snapping them back open to watch you engulf him again.
slushing and slurping sounds overtake the music playing from the radio and matt chokes on his strained groans.
he knots your hair in his fist to pull you off again, but you continue rotating your wrist around his base. with your hair in his grip, matt pulls you to his face quickly, his jaw slack. there's a dazed look on his face, mesmerised by you as you lock eyes.
"don't stop jerkin' me off, baby" he begs, holding your face close to his, noses almost touching as you breath into each others mouths. you feel your pussy clench and grow more wet at his hopeless tone.
"don't fucking stop." he whispers, crashing your lips together, moaning at the taste of himself on your tongue.
the kiss is a mess, and trying to focus on linking your mouths in unison while stroking him passionately prove harder than you anticipate. you break the kiss, needing to watch your hand, but matt grabs your chin to turn you back.
"look at me. i'm s-so close"
"use your manners" you smile, pressing your lips together again, then breaking it, then kissing him again. he interrupts it with a gasp when you start pumping more vigorously.
"s-sorry. please. i need to look at you when i cum. so fucking pretty" he darts his eyes from yours, to your lips, his own lips shiny and perfectly pink.
you want to let him finish as fast as possible, squeezing him and stroking him strenuously, rolling your thumb over his tip and pinching it, getting him overly stimulated and out of breath. your lips brush, but don't fully meet as his breath shakes and he gasps and groans.
your hand is starting to cramp, but you ignore the pain as you fuck his dick with your palm, and matt raises his hand to grip the headrest of the passenger seat beside him, letting his hips adjust and thrust into your touch.
"just like that, just like th-that" he cries out, blue eyes glued on yours as he tries not to roll them into the back of his head.
"ugh, fuck," he chokes.
projecting his hips upward as he throws his head back, matt finally releases, making a complete mess into your hand. you attempt to cup his tip, letting his hot, thick cum spray your palm.
the look on his face is pure euphoria, eyes heavy and breathing hitched. he grazes his teeth on your lips, trying to take you into another kiss, but he's occupied letting his orgasm play out. he looks so perfect when he's cumming, and coming down from it.
"feel better, my love?" you ask gently.
waiting for his response, you reach into the glovebox to grab tissues you know he conveniently has stashed, courtesy of it being chris's usual spot, and the mess he often brings to the car.
"i need to get out of these fucking jeans" he complains while readjusting the material of his crotch, making you chuckle as you clean your hand off, tossing the tissue onto the floor mat.
you pick yourself up, awkwardly trying not to collide with the sunroof as you start to climb into the backseat. giving matt a full shot of your ass, he slaps it lazily, still trying to regain his thoughts.
"get back here so i can help you with them" you say as you drop onto the tan coloured leather, leaning into the corner, back hitting the door.
"someone's gonna see us, y/n" he undoes his seatbelt, in contrast of his words.
"matthew, get your ass back here" you disregard his worry, knowing if you don't reassure him, or aren't stern, he'll let his stress consume him, when all you want is to make him feel good.
between the sun almost being fully set, the lack of liveliness surrounding you and the solid twenty percent on the glass, you're certain not a single soul would notice or care for what's bound to happen in the backseat.
"messin' with me all day and now you're giving orders" he ridicules, turning in his spot to brace the crawl into the back with you.
he shoots a glare at you as he supports himself, trying to keep stable. he presses his palm to the upholstered roof.
"and you're taking them, like a good boy" you affirm, starting to slide off your own pants, and panties, spread wide open by the time matt lowers himself to you.
"fuck" he lets out at the sight of you.
his knees are on the seat between your legs, and he shuffles his pants further and further down his thighs, hurrying to free himself.
he drops back onto his ass with an 'umph' sound, needing to get his jeans to his ankles, and when you strip free of your own lower half, you tug his off completely, throwing them into the front seat.
there's a considerable amount of room in the back, having the luxury of a mini van in your favour.
you scoot over to matt, who's man spreading, and stroking himself slowly. it only takes minutes before he's growing hard again, and you situate yourself on his lap.
his hands come to grip your hips, rubbing your skin soothingly, making you feel so small in his touch. he slides under the fabric of your shirt, and you help him remove it. your arms clash and collide with the roof, both of you giggling at the restriction.
he's looking at you like you're fuel to light a fire between his legs again, and it doesn't take long before he's erect, and all you want is to be filled.
"you just couldn't wait, huh?" he teases as he flicks hair off your neck, seeing it stick to your skin from the sweat forming.
you place your hands over his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to his chest. your exposed cunt is soaked already, and he knows he needs to feel you in the state you're in.
matt brings one hand between your legs, letting it brush up between your folds. he hums in delight, sliding through you with ease. you suck in a shaky breath as the tip of his middle finger traces over your pulsating clit, giving a light circling motion.
he arches his middle and ring finger underneath your entrance, palm to the sky.
"sink onto my fingers, baby" he directs, and you rise in your straddling position to align yourself perfectly.
slowly but surely, you let yourself get stretched out by his touch. his other hand is occupied by his own cock. he curls inside of you, grazing your inner wall.
you toss your head back and allow yourself to revel in the sensation. it feels good, but you need more. you grind onto his fingers, and matt notices your impatience.
he pulls you off him without hesitation and manhandles you, taking control by grabbing your waist and lining you up over his cock.
"this is what you wanted all day. isn't it, baby?" he tests. you nod eagerly.
you feel his plump tip tickle your pussy, a touch too light for your liking. you try to sway your hips, to gain anymore friction, but he has full advantage to start teasing you back now.
"fuck, please matt," you finally spit out, not having any desire to mess around anymore. being exactly what he needed to hear, he drops you onto his cock, a heavy and loud slap as your ass hits his thighs.
you lean back, gripping his knees, arching your back. finally being filled, you moan and squeak through tight teeth. letting out strained 'ohhh's' and 'fuck, yes, yes' on repeat, like a broken record.
"you ride my dick so fucking good" he slaps your ass, hard, making your body jolt as you bounce up and down.
your hands become unsteady, and you reposition to press up against the glass window. the windows are hazing over with steam. they're turning from black to grey, leaving a very distinct hand print. one matt probably has no intention of wiping clean.
matt starts kissing your neck every time your head drops to the side with pleasure, impossible not to whimper when he started nibbling on it. he gets more satisfaction out of watching you, giving you what you want.
“matt” you moan out his name, biting your lip after, trying not to make much noise. it's a natural instinct as you're usually never this far away from being heard.
“yes?” he asks. smartass. his beard tickles your skin as he rubs against you, inhaling your scent and the salty taste of your skin.
“i'm close, s-so close” you stutter.
you vigorously shake your head, trying your best to hold off your impending orgasm. he forces your hips further down onto his dick, driving you closer to the edge.
he pulls you into a deep, slow kiss for a few seconds and pulls away with your bottom lip in between his teeth. he starts tugging and pulling at your nipples with his fingers while using his tongue everywhere else, licking your chest and biting marks.
your core tightens and you gasp, giving matt a silent look that tells him you're about to release. you know he'll demand you look at him as you do so, so you take his jaw in your hand, probably grabbing a little too aggressively, but he doesn't seem to mind.
you hold eye-contact as you pull your faces close. you roll down onto him with all your weight, feeling his dick twitch inside you, and let yourself climax, hips jittery and weak. if matt wasn't holding you, you'd collapse.
he slides you off slowly, both of you watching the loss of contact happen. matt lays you down beside him as you catch your breath. you're both trying to escape your delirious states, sitting it total silence for a moment in the suddenly overwhelmingly hot car.
your faces are covered in sweat, and you're convinced you've been the least desirable that you have been all day. matt makes those thoughts disappear the moment turns to look at you, slouched in his seat, and huffs out a smile.
he slaps your thigh, using a grip on you to help him sit up. you love the afterglow plastered on his face, the interior light casts an orange shadow, and matt is looking at you with admiration.
"don't ever tease me like that again. not unless you want me to get into a car accident." he pants.
"no promises, knowing that's what it gets me." you giggle while turning into the seat, knowing you've been stirring the pot all day.
"shut up." he laughs.
end.
tag list: @luverboychris @recklessmatt @floofparker @teampurpleforlife @letstripsturniolo @imwetforyourmom @fake-sturniolos
#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo fic#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo one shot#shut up and drive
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im willing to sacrifice all my limbs for you write leon putting reader in a mating press
woahhh woah ethan winters, let’s keep all our limbs in tact
disclaimer.. afab!reader x leon s. kennedy. 18+ only! p in v, mating press, dirty talk, praise, biting, pet names, size kink implied, creampie, don't be like them, use protection and practice safe sex. feel like my writing got sloppy at the end, i apologise.
reblogs and feedback are appreciated. requests are open
“mating press?” you heard your boyfriend repeat, acting oblivious. blood quickly flowed straight to your cheeks, making them burn red,
“yes, it’s like a position, in bed, y’know..” you tried to explain, rather coyly.
leon laughed, which only caused you further embarrassment, your arms crossing over your chest and lips pressed together firmly, “it’s not funny.”
“it’s not, i just think it’s cute you still get all shy. baby, if you wanted me to turn you into a damn pretzel or wanted me crawling around on my knees in circles, i’d do it for you.” he cooed, mockingly as he cupped your cheeks.
“ugh, shut up, you’re such an asshole.” you groaned, jabbing his chest and swatting away his arms, suppressing the laughter bubbling in your throat.
you both had managed to make and maintain trust and comfort with exploring and talking about your sexual life, it made things much more exciting- not that it was ever dull, to begin with, but something about this all had made you become much closer, feeling like you both knew each other more than your own selves.
which is how you both found yourselves on the bed, tangled limbs and tongues, your fingers clawing at his clothing until they found grip on his belt, “m-mh, get off.” you huffed, almost scolding the leather holding his pants up, hearing leon chuckle against your ear amidst open mouth, wet kisses he was adorning your neck with, teeth grazing along your skin.
he was making it hard for you to rid him of his clothes- which you found quite unfair considering you had barely blinked and you were left in nothing but your jewelry, slick bastard.
his hips were grinding down on you, rough denim pressing against your bare cunt which had your body reeling upwards against him, “leon, help me out here.” you whine pathetically as you tugged his belt from his loop holes, throwing it aside somewhere amongst your pile of clothes.
he grumbled something- probably grumpy he had to turn his attention away from you, pushing himself up he raised his arms to tug his shirt over his head, your eyes wasting no time darting to the expanse of his bare chest, next came off the rest of his clothes in a haste.
“god, you’re so handsome.” you spoke your thoughts aloud, fingertips reaching out to rub along his stomach, over the bumps of his physic that all his years of training rewarded him with.
if you weren’t so distracted with your own advances you would’ve noticed the warmth that reached his cheeks, and his throat bobbing.
“I want you so bad.” your fingers curled into the flesh of his hip, legs parting until they clasped around his back, pushing against him with all intents to have him as close as possible, to entice him.
he could’ve sworn he felt all the blood rush straight down to his cock, evident by the way it twitched and the way his pearly pre cum sat pretty at the tip, “you’re gonna drive me insane.” he sighed out.
you would’ve laughed but the way the head of his length was rubbing past your puffy warmth and nudging your clit made your head feel fuzzy. your fingertips trailed from his chest up until they reached his shoulders, squeezing onto them in an attempt to retain some composure.
“please..” you breathed out quietly, nails dragging down his back just to scratch back upwards, feeling the goosebumps form on his skin.
to leon, there was nothing prettier than your sweet pleas, the way your features softened but your body lurched towards him and your fingers gripped any inch of his body they could get ahold of.
“i know baby.” he hummed, lips pushing against yours, you leaned up a little, eager to kiss him back with just as much passion, the taste of him your favourite thing in the world.
leon's arms ducked under your legs, lifting them upwards a little before his hips pressed flush against the lower back of your thighs, sheathing his cock inside you easily thanks to how soaking wet you were, “oh, leon..” you mewled, hand tangling in the long lock of his hair, squeezing his body into you.
“so warm.” leon squeezed onto the pillow beside your head as he began rocking his hips, back and forth, steadily at first, feeling your tummy flutter, that deliciously stretching feeling of adjusting to his size, how your body has gotten used to him, shaped exactly to him, for him.
“feel good, hmm sweetheart?” he pushed himself up a little, propelling your legs until they folded on each other, squished to your chest before lifting your calves to rest over his shoulders, “comfortable?” a smile tugged at the corners of his lips which had your heart fluttering.
“mhm, comfortable.” you squeezed his arm reassuringly before glancing down, looking between where the both of you were connected, the way you could see the bulge of him pressed against your tummy, drifting your hand down to push against it, “keep going.” you encouraged him, fluttering your eyelashes up at him.
leon’s eyebrows were furrowed and his tongue dashed out to lick over his lips, watching you beneath him like this was making his cock twitch inside you and it took every ounce of his sanity to not lose it all. he eased his hips back before stuffing inside you once again, leaning down to push his weight against you, the back of your thighs against his chest as your feet bumped in the air with every bounce, the bed frame creaking in tandem.
the tight, confined feeling of his weight pushing against you felt delightful, your body filled with leon, your mind, thoughts and heart swelling with him. you couldn’t move the lower half of your body an inch, not even a squirm, as close as he already was your arms flew out to crush him further into you, hugging him as close as possible, feeling his breath on your cheek- your own breath turned into small heaves, the air feeling like it was knocked out of your chest as he fucked you into the mattress, pussy squelching around him.
“i’m not going anywhere baby, this pussy is all mine to use, you’re all mine.” he gushed out, his arm reaching past your head until it settled on the headboard, tight-fisted grip making the wood creak and with every thrust it obscenely crashed into the wall.
“this what you wanted sweetheart? you’re so fucking obsessed with me, just can’t get enough..” he grunted, every pump of his hips getting more and more erratic and you could barely even form a sentence in your own head let alone babble coherent words.
“too much? i can slow down?” he teases, drawing out his words, chuckling when your eyes flew open in a panic,
“no, n-no—“ you gasped when he pushed flush against you, cock pressed so deeply inside of you, a strained squeal sounding from your throat, “oh my god, leon.” you cried out, “i love it s’much.”
that’s all he needed to hear, hips continuously slamming into yours, not even giving you time to catch your breath, your body bounces shallowly beneath him, clutching on to his arm before you turned your head to bite down on his wrist, hearing him hiss through his teeth.
“fuck!” he groaned, “i can feel you sucking me back in every time i’m not deep in your guts.” he chuckled out in bliss, finding the feeling out of this world, something he’ll never get enough of.
teeth marks were imprinted on his wrist when you let up, salvia glistening on your lips, eyes squeezed shut as you concentrated on that bubbling feeling at the pit of your stomach, “m’ so- oh!” you squealed when he changed the angle of his hips, somehow drilling his cock even deeper inside you, “leon!” you cried, legs over his shoulders spasming and your soppy, abused pussy was clenching around him as you climaxed, arousal coating his length, leon not letting up in his relentless pace, knowing you could take it.
he got whinier, higher pitched as he got even closer and closer to release, his pleasured sounds were oh so heavenly to you, especially in the state you were in, even though your ears were ringing and oversensitivity was kicking in, he was the most gorgeous precense.
his thrusts became sloppy, messy, and he buried his head against your neck, taking the opportunity to weakly reach up to his head, tangling your fingers through his hair and dragging your nails along his scalp, “cum baby, i want it so badly, please.” you pressed gentle kisses to his cheek.
“baby, you feel.. so, so good.” he muffled against your neck, feeling the way his hips stuttered before his hot release spurted out, filling you up. breathlessly gasping out at the feeling, you let him push into you over and over again to ride out his high, your nails still dancing along his scalp, occasional tug of his hair.
“mmh..” he panted out, eyes fluttering back open as he fell on top of you, wincing at the way your muscles ached, but you struggled to tell him to move yet, he was like a tired puppy all of a sudden, nose nuzzled into your neck and soft warm breaths fluttering along your skin, his arms maneuvered to around your waist in a strong hug.
“baby, as much as i love you so much, can we do this with my legs, not in the air.” you heard him muffle a laugh against you before pushing himself up, letting your legs relax back down on the bed.
“if i clean you up can we cuddle and take a nap?” he stretched his arms upwards before rolling his shoulders back.
“how could i ever say no to you?” you giggled, leaning up on your elbows and pressing kisses to his face.
“i don’t know, guess i’m just the best boyfriend ever- not to brag or anything.” he shrugged his shoulders, followed by a dumb wink.
#resident evil smut#re smut#resident evil 4 smut#resident evil leon#leon kennedy smut#leon smut#leon s kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil leon smut#re 4 smut#resident evil#leon kennedy
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Hi! I saw that you are taking requests? Could you do Lucifer x reader? Where reader and him is already dating but reader is insecure, wondering what would happen between them if Lilith comes back. Would he leave the reader?
I don’t know the rules with your requests so if I broke any rules in this request, I deeply apologise and please ignore this request if so! Have a lovely day/evening/night!
━ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒
𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 -> 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃
lucifer morningstar x gn! insecure! reader
summary; thoughts and worries where everywhere around you, curious and scared about what would happen if your beloved partner would leave you again for his actual first wife, but your partner knows you better then that.
cw; some insecurities to past relationship, little mentally unstable topics (ex. overthinking, anxiety), comfort, fluff. no proofread!
It was no secret that you had some ups and downs with the relationship you have with lucifer.
You where contantly wondering what would happen if lilith, lucifer's ex-wife, the woman he was banished with into hell, would return back and would try to get back with him.
It terrified you actually, you knew lucifer for so long and you are so happy about this lovely relationship you two have, if this would happen you don't know where to be tbh..
And with all those thoughts living in your head, you didn't noticed that your distants was getting obvious by your lover.
Lucifer knew from the beginning you where insecure about yourself, you douded a lot about you, especially after seeing the pictures of lilith smiling so warmthly and looking majestic as ever.
He tried many times to convince you otherwise, that he appreciates you so much and loves every inch of you but unfortunately sometimes you took it as pity, because the moments he told you this you where again looking over old pictures of the morningstar family
you knew it was bad to do this, but lucifer allowed you which is why you where contantly on those books..
And now, you where again thinking about many scenarios on how lucifer would drop you off for his ex-wife, you sat on the edge of your shared bed with your legs close to your chest and with your head inbetween them as you tried to collect your breathing from all the tears you let fell down your cheeks.
"stupid.. why am i always crying about this bullshit?" you asked yourself sniffing, you where glad that lucifer shouldn't be near the bedroom, otherwise he would've heard your silent complains you where doing since almost 10 minutes.
Or so you thought, lucifer was actually on his way to check on you because you haven't shown yourself since a good amount of time and he was starting to get worried, and before he could even knock on the door, he stopped at his track when he heard you sobbing in there.
Lucifer wasn't dumb thats for sure, he knew about what you where crying about again and the pain in his heart was aching to just burst into the room and take you into his arms, but he decided to take it easy with you.
Without knocking, lucifer carefully opened the door to see your frame hugged together into a ball sniffing your poor eyes out, he gently closed the door and made his way towards you.
"sweetheart?" he gently called out, you shook your head towards his voice to see him standing there with a sad form in his face which made you immediatly burry your face back into your knees.
"what?" you asked quietly, your voice shaking and muffled from hiding it, lucifer moved closer to you until he's in front of you on one knee as he gently took your face into his hands, making you look at him with red eyes from crying.
Lucifer couldn't help but give you one of his heart-warming smiles that you loved so much.
"my poor duckling, when do you see yourself the way i do?" he asked, wipping your tears away from your cheek with his thumb. you didn't said a word, just moved your eyes to the floor in quilt.
"baby.. i know you hate talking about this, but believe me when i'm saying this, you mean the entire world to me. i know you think that i would want to leave you but imma be honest, i couldn't live without you, you're my heart, the reason why i wanna wake up everyday and i'm so thankful for having you with me."
Lucifer said, his smile growing with each word as he placed one of your shaking hands on his chest where his heart lays and pulls you close to him until you were embrassed by him.
You closed your eyes and allowed to just feel luci's heart beating against your head, you tried letting your feelings be freely as you slowly began to feel like home again.
"i'm sorry for my constant fear of losing you" you mumbled and luci only hugged you tighter, kissing the top of your head and leaned his own one of top of your gently.
"you have nothing to apologize for my love, we'll get through this together, and i will be by your side through everything"
© c1b3rly — 2024. works i post are not allowed to be translated, stolen, copied, or reposted on other platforms.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#𓅰 - c1b3rly
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Okay I’m obsessed with your Luke castellan stuff! Is there anyway I could request one where Luke and reader are a couple but get into a huge fight right before a quest? Something goes seriously wrong on the quest but they make back in in the end? Sorry if that makes no sense 😭
omg thank you !! and thanks so much for requesting ! this turned out a little dark, I hope you don't mind !
deception
pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader
summary : you and luke have a fight before leaving on a quest, but after something goes very wrong, you make up
word count : 3.5k
warnings : a little dark, violence, fighting (verbal and physical), swear words, killing of another camper, depiction of death
"Where were you?" The words were out of your mouth as soon as you saw the dark figure walking towards you.
You needed no light to recognise him. You knew him by his walk, the way his shoulders swayed slightly and the unrecognisable limp in his left leg from an old injury. You knew the shape of his shoulders, for you had cried on them many times. You knew the swing of his hands, for they had held yours for countless hours. You knew the way he hung his head meant he was tired.
But so were you. So, so tired.
"We leave tomorrow, Luke. For a quest that could change all of our lives. Do you truly care so little?" You stood up from where you had been sitting down for the better part of an hour in front of your cabin.
"Baby, I really don't want to do this now," he all but pleaded. You could hear it in his voice. The fatigue, the worry, the sadness. He stepped closer to you and took your hand in his, lovingly brushing your knuckles with his thumb.
You pulled your hand out of his grip, even though it physically hurt you to do so. You felt him flinch. "No, Luke, you do this every time! It's always the same with you!" You knew your voice was starting to rise but you couldn't help it. "You go out, won't tell me where you're going, won't let me come with you, come back hours later, looking like you've been holding up the sky for seventeen hours, still won't tell me where you've been, and ask me to-"
"Baby, can you please drop it?" His voice was incredibly quiet in the dead of the night. You could see his brows furrow in the faint glow of the torch on the side of your cabin.
"-drop it," you finish with a sigh, dropping your hands by your sides.
"Look, I'm sorry, alright?" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I just- I'm sorry." You could see his chest deflate like a balloon and felt tears well up in your eyes. You shook your head. You couldn't keep up with his lies.
"No." His head snapped up and you felt his intense gaze on your face within seconds. "No, don't apologise for shit you're just going to keep doing. Apologise when you're actually going to change something, because I can't keep doing this." You willed your voice not to shake too much. You ran a hand over your face, sighing shakily.
"What do you mean you 'can't keep doing this'?" he asked softly, stepping closer to you and taking both your hands in his. You tucked your chin, not wanting him to see the tears slowly running down your cheeks. He lowered his head to look at you.
"I mean I can't keep," your voice broke, "doing this. Us, Luke. It's not healthy."
"No, no, no, what do you mean it's 'not healthy'? Baby, we're okay. You're okay, alright? Nothing has to change, we're good!" The urge in his voice broke your heart. He leaned down to look into your eyes as he cupped your face and wiped your tears away with his thumbs.
"It's okay, baby, we're okay, I promise. I- I can change, we can work through this. Together."
You bit your lip to keep it from wobbling too much. You shook your head.
"No, Luke. We- we can't. I can't keep doing this to myself, it hurts too much. And I can't change that I worry and get worked up, but you can't change whatever it is you won't tell me. So this needs to stop."
Luke shook his head franticly and started pulling you towards his cabin by the hands.
"No, baby, all you need is a good night's sleep, okay? In the morning, when you'll have a clear head, we'll talk about it again, okay? I promise we'll work it out, all-"
"No, Luke!" You pulled your hands out of his, tightly crossing your arms over your chest. You didn't know when you'd started being cold, but you suddenly realised you were shivering violently. "I have a clear head right now! We don't need to talk about it in the morning! The situation will still be the same! And neither of us will have changed a thing! We're just pushing this back to later!" Your voice rang out into the night and it angered you even more to know that many campers were probably listening in on your exchange with Luke at the very moment.
"Wow. I can't believe this." Luke shook his head. You felt a few raindrops land on your face and arms before it started raining. "I can't believe you're willing to just give up on our relationship like this, Y/N."
"I'm not giving up on anything! There just isn't anything left to-"
"Maybe if you minded your own business more, and stopped worrying and fretting so much-" You scoffed loudly.
"That's who I am, Luke! That's my personality! And I love you! So, excuse me for caring and worrying about you when you disappear for literal hours and won't tell me where you've been!"
"Well maybe if you-" He cut himself off and raised a hand, shaking his head. Through the raindrops, you could see tears running down his cheeks. It shredded your heart to pieces knowing you were the cause of his pain. "Look, Y/N, I care about you, I admire you and I love you. So do this, go ahead, but remember that, and remember that it will have been your fault."
You had what was probably the worst night in the history of all worst nights. You hadn't slept a wink, had cried out all the water in your body and had second-doubted every choice you'd ever made in your entire life that had led you up to this moment.
When you looked at yourself in the mirror the next morning at the crack of dawn, you grimaced. One good thing came out of having to meet so early, you wouldn't have to face the other campers who you knew were listening in on you and Luke last night. You would have to answer no questions and would have to ignore no strange looks.
Everything was still damp from the storm during the night. You hated the feeling of the cold humidity making its way through your clothes and sticking to your skin.
You met with Chiron, Luke and the third member of your quest, a girl named Natasha, at sun rise near the border. You didn't meet Luke's eye as Chiron spoke before sending you off. You didn't even speak until Natasha brought up the tense silence.
"Look, I don't mean to pry," she spoke as she pushed her way through tall grass with you and Luke in tow, "but I'm not digging the vibe you both have going on right now."
Luke inhaled before speaking, but he was interrupted by Natasha.
"Just to be clear, I don't care what happened, just don't let it get in the way of the quest."
"It won't." You answered without even glancing at Luke. You heard him exhale sharply. Natasha nodded curtly.
Even though the tension had been palpable since the start, within seven days you had managed to retrieve the artefact you had been sent to fetch and had started making your way home. Natasha most certainly had a concussion, but other than that, none of you bore any serious injuries.
Still, you felt restless and anxious. The Oracle, though you could not remember her exact words, had mentioned deception. At first, you had thought it would be the monster from whom you had stolen the artefact who would be responsible of this deception, but that had not been the case. So you had been on edge for days. You'd barely slept, as Luke had pointed out many times.
"Do you not trust me anymore? Is that it? Is that why you won't sleep?" He'd asked you one night while he was on watch. You had tried to sleep, you really had, but thoughts of betrayal and deception clouded your mind and kept sleep far away. You shook your head.
"That's not it." You couldn't bring yourself to tell the boy you loved that you feared he would turn on you. You leaned your head back against the humid trunk of the tree you were sitting against. A few raindrops landed on your face. You couldn't wait to be back at camp. You couldn't wait for all of this to be over.
"Then what is it? Why won't you sleep?"
You shrugged. You wouldn't tell him about the nightmares you kept having. When you did manage to close your eyes for a few minutes, your mind was swarmed with dark sights and horrible fears. You would see Luke drowning, yourself burning, the artefact getting lost.
"I guess I'm too nervous. We need to get it back to camp as soon as possible. I'll rest when we get there."
"But-"
"Please, Luke. Don't."
Despite your nerves, your fatigue finally got the better of you and you fell asleep. You awoke to strange, muffled sounds. Slowly opening your eyes, you squinted and tried to get used to the dim light of the flickering fire. After a second, you saw Natasha digging around in your bag a few meters away from you, one hand tangled in Luke's hair. You frowned.
"Shut up," she snapped at Luke. You realised the muffled sounds must have been coming from him. You couldn't see much, as Natasha's body hid most of Luke and your bags. Quietly, you sat up and grabbed your bow and quiver. You slowly stood up, hiding your weapon behind your back.
"What are you doing?" you asked. Natasha whipped around, a scowl on her face. You'd never seen her look like that before. With her body more to the side, you were able to get a better look at Luke. What you saw made your skin crawl.
He had a large black eye and a cut on his forehead. A dirty rag tied tightly around the bottom of his face kept him from making too much noise. You guessed from his position on the ground that both his hands and feet were tied up. And judging by the state of his shirt, which was torn and dirty, he'd put up quite the fight. Your blood ran cold but you couldn't help but feel relieved at the same time. Luke had not deceived you. Natasha had.
"Something I should have done a long time ago," she snarled, putting her boot against Luke's face and pushing it hard. He fell to the side with a muffled grunt. You felt your blood boil at the thought of her hurting him even more than she already had. You notched an arrow immediately and aimed it at Natasha's heart.
"Natasha," you called icily, "I think you should think twice about this."
"No need. I've got someone who will pay me a fortune for this," she held up the artefact in her hand, "and for the knowledge of two half-bloods roaming in the forest near a big town in New Jersey."
"You wouldn't." Your blood ran cold. You knew you wouldn't let her get away without a fight, but judging by Luke's state, he had thought the same thing. You cursed yourself for choosing the strongest fighter in camp to accompany you on the quest.
"You don't know me well enough, Y/N. I couldn't care less about that shit hole you want to go back to, there's nothing for me back there. So, if you're smart, you'll let me be on my way now."
You set your jaw. "I'm afraid I can't just let you go."
She smirked. "I thought you might say that." She reached to the side and grabbed Luke by the hair, violently pulling him to his feet. He winced and you saw his jaw twitch. "Luckily, I have some leverage right here."
Your stomach churned at the sight. Luke shook his head at you, but you ignored him. She may have beat him, but she wouldn't get through you. You'd die before you let anything happen to him or the artefact.
You raised your bow, aiming for her leg. You didn't want to kill her because she was a camper. That would be the equivalent of killing a cousin and you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you did. Suddenly, you felt your bow get white hot beneath your hands. You shrieked and let go of it nanoseconds before it turned to flames. You heard Luke cry out your name and watched as Natasha kicked him to the ground. You grit your teeth, the fire in your stomach growing bigger by the second.
"Mother taught me well." She twirled her fingers and flames danced between them. You cursed under your breath. You'd forgotten she was one of Hestia's children. Not giving yourself the time to mourn your bow, you darted forward, narrowly missing the flames of the fire which followed you closely.
Deciding to let go of dignity and humility, you tackled her to the ground. Surprised, she yelped and let the small turquoise artefact slip through her fingers. You both hit the floor with a thud. Frantically looking around for the artefact, you were relieved to find that Luke had managed to get ahold of it despite his bound hands. He locked eyes with you and started crawling away. Natasha grunted as she tried to push you off her. You resisted and managed to hit her in the face with your elbow.
"Fuck you," she growled before punching you in the stomach. She harshly pushed you off her ribcage as you coughed, tears welling in your eyes at the pain.
You realised she was going after Luke when she pulled a knife out of her boot before running off. Terrified, you scrambled to your feet and took off after her. You tripped on vines and stones as you caught up with her. You had no idea how she could see so well in the near darkness of the forest. You abruptly spotted Luke near a tree, rubbing his bindings against the harsh bark.
"Fuck, Natasha- Stop!" you yelled. She ignored you. Before she could get to Luke, you threw yourself forward, landing a hard kick to both her knees. She cried out in pain and collapsed in a head to the ground. You scrambled to get on top of her and pressed your knee against the side of her head.
"Stop it!" you pleaded. "You don't want to do this! Money won't solve your problems!"
"Yes, I do want to do this," she grunted as she struggled against you. She kicked out, knocking you off her. You got to your feet as quickly as you could, standing in between her and Luke. You spared Luke a glance before raising your fists in front of your face. He was frantically trying to get rid of his bindings, desperately tugging at them.
"Just get out of the way, Y/N!" she screamed angrily, spit flying out of her mouth. "Make this easier for all of us, will you?!"
"You know I can't do that, Natasha."
She let out a frustrated yell before charging at you with her knife. You ducked and hit her in the ribs before catching her by the hair. You pulled her away from Luke with a grunt. She cursed loudly and sliced at you with her knife. You hissed in pain as she nicked your side, letting go of her for a second. You stumbled backwards as you looked down at your right side, where blood was rapidly staining your shirt. Distantly, you heard Luke's muffled yell of your name and a string of curses. You looked back up just in time to see Natasha's face coming at your full speed. She hit you in the cheekbone and you collapsed to your knees, dull pain making your face uncomfortably hot. You were dazed for a second before you shakily got to your feet.
Natasha was trying to pry the artefact out of Luke's hands, her knife much too close to his skin for your liking. Growling, you bolted forward and wrapped your arm around her neck from behind. Choking her with your elbow, you pulled her off Luke with all the strength you could muster. She thrashed wildly against you before reaching back and grabbing on to your upped arm.
Before you could comprehend what was happening, she had flung you over her shoulder. You landed on the ground with a thud and your breath knocked out of you. You coughed. Despite the haziness of your vision, you still registered the knife lying on the ground next to you. You reached for it but Natasha was quicker. She kneeled over you, the knife dangling from her fingers.
"I was really hoping I wouldn't have to kill you, you know?" She wiped from blood from her bottom lip. "But I have a feeling I'm not going to be able to get anything done with you in the way, so..."
Slowly, she started bringing the blade of her knife down into your abdomen. You pushed at her forearms, trying to stop her, struggling and kicking but it was no use. She was too strong. With horror, you realised that you were going to die. You were going to die. In the middle of a forest, alone-
"Y/N!" Your head snapped to the side at Luke's voice. He was running towards you at full speed, having gotten rid of his bindings. He threw something at you, which you barely caught. A knife. His knife.
Without thinking, you drove the knife deep into Natasha's stomach. She cried out in pain and her legs went out, her whole weight now resting on your ribcage. She looked shocked as she looked down at her wound, which was covering both your bodies in blood. You paled at the sight.
She tried to speak, but only blood bubbled past her lips. She looked up at the sky before entirely collapsing on top of you.
"LUKE!" you shrieked and kicked her off you, scrambling to get as far away from her as possible. You'd just killed her. Natasha. Another camper. And you'd just killed her. What had you done?
Luke threw himself down next to you, immediately gathering you in his arms. You sobbed loudly as you held on to him, surely leaving fingerprints.
"I killed her! I killed her, Luke, and she's dead!" you screamed hysterically, your eyes stuck onto her lifeless form, lying just meters away from you.
"Baby, are you hurt?" he asked, concerned, as he checked you over. He tilted your head to both sides, his heart breaking at the tears flowing down your face. He was horrified to see your side and immediately put pressure onto it. You hissed in pain.
"It doesn't matter if I'm hurt! She's dead!" Your voice broke as you hit Luke's shoulder, sobbing.
"It was you or her, baby. You or her. You did what you had to do," he spoke softly into your ear. He held you closer to him, as if he wanted to squeeze the traumatic event out of you.
"She's dead," you sobbed loudly, turning around to bury your face in his chest.
"I know, baby. It's okay. You did what you had to do, you had no choice. She turned on us." He soothingly rubbed your back as he spoke.
"But- but-"
"You saved the quest, darling. You saved your life. And mine." He stroked your hair, trying to calm you down. "There was nothing else you could do."
You cried for what felt like hours. He held you the whole time, whispering words of assurance and comfort. By the time you felt ready to go, the sun was almost up.
The trip back to camp was mostly a blur. Luke took care of everything while you followed him around like a phantom. He stitched you up and disinfected your wounds before you got to camp. When you finally reached the border, you were greeted by Chiron, who was chocked to see only two of you come back. He was even more chocked by what had happened when Luke explained everything to him once you'd been taken in by the infirmary.
When you awoke a day later, you had a long talk with Chiron, who reassured you on just about everything that had happened. You would be granted a recovery of undetermined time. You could taker as long as you needed to get over the quest. Feeling a lot better, you'd thanked him and immediately went to find Luke.
You found him near the lake, staring thoughtfully out onto the water.
"Hey." He turned around as soon as he heard your voice.
"Hey," he spoke softly. He opened his arms once you were closer to him and you didn't think twice before engulfing him in a tight hug. He buried his face in your hair and inhaled deeply. It felt good to feel the familiar weight of his arms around your shoulders again.
"I'm so sorry." He sighed into your hair. "For everything."
"I know. Me too."
"I love you, baby."
"I love you too."
#luke castellan#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan x you#percy jackon and the olympians#luke castellan angst#pjo series#pjo tv show#charlie bushnell
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Simmer #3
CH.3 Sunny Side Up | The Menu
[4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
Talking to Eddie became a little easier after that night. Just a little. You greeted each other on morning shifts with tired nods, maybe a small ‘hi’ from you, a grunt from him that you’d learned not to take offence to. You’d watched time and time again as Jonathan brought his coffee to the kitchen, handing Eddie a mocha full of chocolate syrup and the boy received another grunt in thanks too.
The diner became more familiar, as did your colleagues and it made your heart ache a little when you realised you melted into their routines, their little world as easily as they did with each other. Steve knew your favourite song, liked to turn it up when it came on the radio, pointing at you with enough fanfare to make you flush when he sang the lyrics into the end of a wooden spoon.
Robin had invited you to hers, an unofficial girls night after a Sunday late shift that became a habit without meaning to. You shared her apartment space the way she shared yours, leftover pyjama shirts in each other's drawers, rented movies swapped between television sets. And at times, when she was home from college, Nancy would join you both, curled on the loveseat with Robin as they listened to your horror stories from Chicago.
Argyle would offer you rides to work, always passing you on the days you missed the bus, pulling over his brightly painted van with a lazy grin and a yell of “jump in my ‘lil Chicago pizza.”
It was easy, comfortable, a slow kind of life that you craved in the city, the long days and quiet nights that you were more suited to. Hawkins was far from the white picket fence dream, but you loved your little apartment with its view of the cornfields, the long road out of town that you knew took you to work. And when the bus stopped on Sundays and you walked to the diner, you’d pass that old garage the same way you did on your first day in town and wave to Wayne.
It was easy. It was simple.
That Tuesday, you clocked in early after swapping a shift with Nancy, the heat rolling into the side door with you as the sun rose. It was the earliest you’d started and the diner was still quiet, a lack of customers between the midnight hours that the truckers frequented and the breakfast rush. The radio was up louder than usual, the smell of fresh bread coming from the ovens, a huge bowl of batter on the counter beside some chopped strawberries, glittering with sugar.
“Hey! Hey what's the matter with you, feel right? Don't you feel right, baby?”
You could see Jonathan in the front of the diner, setting clean tables with new cutlery, Argyle trailing behind him - not necessarily helping, but definitely talking animatedly about something. Jim was in his office, groaning over receipts and copies of everyone’s vacation requests, two empty mugs of coffee in front of him. You weren’t sure where Ed—
“Jesus, watch it!”
You gasped on instinct as someone collided with your shoulder, a dull pain that wasn’t all that sore but scared you nonetheless. Eddie was glaring at you, holding a hot tray of morning rolls aloft with a dish towel.
“I could’ve fucking burnt you,” he snapped, setting them down on his station with a clatter.
You winced, an apology on your tongue, already tasting sour. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— I didn’t hear you say corner, or, or door or—”
You watched as Eddie’s frown disappeared momentarily, a soft drop of his expression that made you realise at the same time he did, that he didn’t give any of those warnings at all. You thought he’d apologise then, maybe back track with a rare smile but instead his scowl deepened and he set about pulling ingredients out of the fridge.
“Stumbling ‘round like a baby deer, man,” Eddie huffed, his voice low, like you maybe weren’t meant to hear. But you did. “Gonna end up seriously hurtin’ yourself— or someone else. Not supposed to be in the damn kitchen, told you you weren’t made out f—”
Tears burned the corners of your eyes at the first sign of conflict but your heart pounded and you let yourself get wound up. You squared your shoulders, sucked in a breath and let the sting of your eyes and the lump in your throat fuel you. “Hey!” You snapped, only sounding a little watery, a little soft. “It wasn’t— it wasn’t my fault. You’re supposed to tell someone you’re coming if you’re holding something.” You blew out a breath, acutely aware of how Eddie was watching you with raised brows. “Especially something hot. And I don’t stumble.”
You glared right back at the boy, hoping you looked as intimidating as he did, throwing your hands on your hips for good measure until you felt too much like your mom and dropped them back by your side. You squirmed in the silence, pulling self-consciously at the hem of your uniform dress, still trying to keep your lips in an annoyed flat line, your brows as turned down as Eddie’s. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, throwing a pound of butter into a huge mixing bowl. It made the station shake with a thud and he turned his back to you before he spoke, shoulders stiff, a tattoo that curled up from his back to the nape of his neck just visible for the way he’d pulled his curl up in a bun.
“Why are you always in such a bad mood? Huh? And I’m allowed in the kitchen,” you added, hating that you sounded haughty, but fuck this boy and his attitude problem. The hot and cold act was starting to wear thin. “I work here too.”
He turned then, the sleeves of his chef whites rolled up to his elbows, ropes of muscle and lines of ink curling around his forearms. His fingers were covered in butter and sugar, and when he took a few steps closer, brows raised at you in a challenge, he smelled like cinnamon. “That right, sweetheart?”
You didn’t back down, even though your stomach flipped. You lifted your chin higher, tried to give it back to him as good as he gave it out. “You think I come here for the good of my health?” You wanted to bite, you wanted to sink your teeth in and draw blood. You wanted to hurt. The taste of honey on fresh sourdough lingered on your tongue. “I heard the food is shit.”
Eddie’s nostrils flared at your childish barb, but as immature as it was, the boy gritted his teeth and stormed back to the work station. The bowls clattered against each, steel on steel and the spatula he’d been using got launched into the empty sink.
“Just stay out my way,” Eddie grunted.
The sharpness of his words made your throat tight, face scrunching unhappily because what had you ever done to him? You decided not to answer, pressing your lips together instead and hoping Eddie didn’t see your watery eyes when you stalked past his table. You ducked into the office, slamming your locker door as you shoved your bag inside, shouldering into Steve by accident on the way back out.
“Oh, sorry— hey, hey,” Steve frowned, catching sight of your face. “What’s wrong?”
You didn’t answer, just smiling and shrugging him off, already pulling out your pad and pen from the front of your apron, as if the quiet diner was suddenly full of people who were desperate for their orders to be taken. You didn’t look at Eddie as you left, disappearing between the table and booths, hoping for something to clean until a table filled up.
You didn’t see it, you didn’t hear it, but Steve walked to Eddie’s station with a scowl that matched the other boy’s and stole the spoon that was in his hand.
“Hey!” Eddie’s head shot up, eyes narrowed, ready for a fight. “Give me th—”
“Stop being a dick,” Steve scolded, holding the spoon over his head when Eddie tried to grab it across the bench. “You’re being an ass, man. And for what?”
Eddie glared, reaching for the stolen utensil and swearing when Steve rapped the back of his knuckles with it. “What’re you even talkin’ about?”
Steve scoffed, “don’t act dumb, Munson, it isn’t cute. What have you got against the new girl?”
Eddie didn’t answer, giving up and crossing the kitchen to rake through a drawer for another spoon instead. He stalked to the refrigerator too, still scowling, piling more ingredients in his arms as he went. He walked back to Steve with eggs and fruit, jars of spices that were all different colours. Steve was still standing, shirt sleeves rolled up, his name badge on upside down.
“Well?”
“Steve, just—” Eddie let out a huff and set a pan on the stovetop, flicking on the switches until a blue flame appeared. It bloomed into red, orange and Eddie spooned some butter into the pan. “I don’t have anything against her.” His cheeks were hot, he could feel it. A pink flush that went across his nose and attacked the tips of his ears. He cracked an egg too vigorously, shell in the yolk, making it burst. He swore.
“No?” Steve didn’t look convinced. He handed Eddie back his spoon. “Doing your damn best to convince her otherwise. Poor kid looked like she was about to cry.”
Eddie’s eyes shuttered closed at that, guilt gnawing a hole in his chest. He cracked another egg, watched it turn white over the heat. He really wanted a cigarette.
The bell for the diner door rang, signalling the arrival of customers, a bleary eyed bunch of business men that looked like they were from out of town. Their suits were too sharp, close shaven beards and briefcases making them look like sore thumbs against the garish decor and sticky booth seats. Both boy’s watched you approach their table, smiling sweetly and nodding shyly as you scribbled down their orders. When you turned to head to the hatch, a piece of paper ready to be slapped onto the stainless steel bar, Eddie watched as the men eyed your behind, appreciative faces and shared whispers about the way your legs looked in your dress.
He cracked another egg, eyes narrowed, chest tighter than before.
“Say sorry,” Steve finalised the conversation with a friendly slap to Eddie’s shoulder as he passed him. You were only a few tables away, head ducked down, eyes hidden as you approached. Steve looked serious as he said, “fix it.”
—————
By the time the clock hit eleven am, Jonathan was coaxing you into going for your break, handing your orders to Steve as he cleared the table your customers just left. He waved away your protests, voice quiet and soft as he handed you the dollar notes that were left for you beside a ketchup stain.
“I’ve got it,” he tsked. “Go on, go get some food or somethin’.”
So you smiled and pulled off your apron as you headed through the back, already sipping on a glass of lemon water you’d poured yourself at the bar. You could hear Steve greet a family at the front door, all charm and sweetness, and the radio in the kitchen was still playing. Breakfast was almost over but the place still smelled sweet, syrup and cinnamon, cooked pancakes and fresh bread, maple bacon that the diners always ordered an extra plate of.
Argyle was at the sink, washing a pot and he smiled as you walked across the tiles. “Wassup Chicago town?” There were bubbles on his arms, a walkman clipped to the waistband of his chef whites and headphones around his neck. “You lookin’ for Eddie?”
You frowned without meaning to, wondering if you could get away with pinching some leftover breakfast without anyone realising. Jim didn’t mind, but Eddie was way too particular with his leftovers.
“Uh, no,” you answered. “Should I be?”
“Think he was lookin’ for you.”
You didn’t get to ask anymore questions, or even laugh at the idea of the chef seeking you out, because Eddie was coming back out from the pantry with a new bag of sugar. His eyes flitted to you as he walked to his bench, cheeks a little pink and he sprinkled some of it over a bowl of chopped fruit before he said anything. He nodded to the stool he made you sit on the other day, the one at his station and it was only then you noticed there was a plate sitting.
Two perfectly cooked eggs, sunny side up with a huge slice of orange that was arranged like a smile. There was a single blueberry in the middle of the plate, plucked from the bowl that Eddie placed beside it, finishing off the smiley faced breakfast.
“You hungry?” Eddie murmured, his voice softer than it had been when you last ran into him. He kept his head bent, curls framing his brown eyes, lips twisted. “You didn’t have breakfast.”
“Wh—?” Your lips parted, your apron still fisted in your hand and you rounded the station slowly, eyes on the boy like you were waiting for the joke to land.
Eddie’s gaze shot from you to the stool and he tilted his chin once more. “Sit.” His demand wasn’t bossy, despite the bluntness. His voice was so much more gentle than you’d heard it before. The frown was still there, the stitch between his brows but his eyes looked softer, honeyed caramel, brown sugar, the stickiest kind of toffee. “Gonna get cold.”
So you sat, looking behind you to glance at Argyle, wondering if this was strange enough for him to take notice too. Sure enough, the boy had stopped scrubbing, his hands still in the hot water as steam rose up around his confused face. He was watching the both of you, eyes glancing between you and Eddie as he tried to work out what was happening.
Eddie turned his back on you as you stared down at the meal he’d made you, eyes still wide and something inside of you sank at the idea of his walking away. But he spun back, a fork and knife in his hand, wrapped in a napkin. He didn’t hand them to you, but he slid them across the counter, his expression neutral - you couldn’t work him out.
“Thank you,” you whispered and Eddie nodded. You wondered if Steve and Jonathan got their breakfast made for them when they went on break, if they came into the kitchen to a bowl of fresh fruit - mangoes and berries and brightly coloured slices of citrus. You thought it would be best not to ask. “Looks good.”
Eddie hummed and nodded, waiting until you picked up your cutlery and unfurled it from the wrapping. He made his leave then, cheeks pink, curls going a little frizzy in the heat and he ducked away, picking up a crate that he took into the freezer, the large door thumping behind him.
The napkin fell to the table as you took out your fork, marvelling over the way the yolk burst perfectly as you dug in, golden liquid pooling across your plate. You picked up the blueberry nose before it got caught, popping it into your mouth and humming at the flavour. And when you looked down, there was a word scrawled across the napkin, faded black ink on white tissue.
“Sorry.”
—————
Eddie made sure he waited long enough for you to be gone by the time he appeared from the walk-in, nose red with the cold, skin goose pimpled under his uniform - because fucking hell, why did he decide to hide in the freezer? He came back out warily, keeping his back against the tiled wall as he peered around the corner. You were gone from his station, your twenty minute break already over and he could see your empty plate and bowl stacked at the sink beside Argyle.
He squared his shoulders and tried to act normal as he stomped back into his kitchen, frown set back on his face but his heart was thundering. It made him feel ill, the way his chest got right, the way his stomach flipped. His station was clear of your plates, but you’d left the napkin there, the corner of it tucked under a plastic quart container so it didn’t float away.
There, in your much neater handwriting and the pink pen you liked to take orders with, was a reply to the boy’s scrawled apology.
“Thank you.”
Eddie stared at the words for too long, until the rosy coloured ink went blurry and his cheeks turned the same shade. He wasn’t sure where you’d gone, but he could smell perfume he assumed was yours, lingering between the stacks of chopped strawberries, the halved mango on the counter.
“You got a crush, my friend?”
Eddie’s head snapped up, a scowl set back on his face instinctually. He liked Argyle, he didn’t mind him at all, but the boy was standing by the sink and was looking at him knowingly. Argyle grinned and raised his brows, waiting for Eddie to answer.
“What? No.” Eddie slammed the napkin back down on the desk. Argyle was still grinning. “Shut up.” Eddie waited until the other boy returned to the dishes before he took the napkin and folded it up, tucking it into his pocket.
He’d bin it later, he told himself. It wasn’t a big deal.
—————
The day Eddie was scheduled off on the rota was a much busier day. It seemed like bad luck, the main cook’s day off coinciding with the monthly farmers market that was set up in Hawkin’s Main Street. The square was filled with stalls, fresh fruit and vegetables in crates, the smell of homemade soap, lavender and rose on the breeze. The tiny storefronts helped funnel the crowds in the direction of the diner, lines of cars driving to the restaurant for breakfast, their trunks full of fresh goods and Mrs Sinclair’s apple pie slices.
It meant your day went too fast, the tips good and the chance of a break slim. Argyle was pushed to his limit, the freezer used more than ever as the full tables called for a quicker turnaround, the frozen burger patties being used instead of the way Eddie liked to make each one fresh. But Eddie wasn’t here and you certainly weren’t thinking about him, so he didn’t need to know. And when your shift ended at five, the dinner rush was just as crazy so you stayed on until six and helped Nancy clear a table of twelve guests, two families from out of town that had too many kids and there were lines of coloured crayon along the walls that just wouldn’t shift until you gave in and brought out a bottle of bleach.
She was grateful enough that she split the table’s tip with you, something you tried to wave away but she insisted and stuffed the dollar bills into the front of your apron, not caring about the stains, the dryer grease, the spilled coffee there. Nancy looked just as undone as you. But it had been a good day - you missed the chance to eat, and maybe get something made for you by Eddie - but you had enough cash rolled up in your purse to start a new stack in your freezer at home and the bus back into town should be due any min—
The bus rolled past before you could get to the stop, the tires squeaking in protest as it passed you by, your feet not able to take you out of the parking lot quick enough. And it was still fine, there was still a little light in the sky, that navy-lilac kinda way that told you nightfall was coming soon, or maybe rain. Maybe both.
So you pulled the strap of your bag across your chest and wished your uniform wasn’t as starchy and tight, ‘cause the heat still lingered even in the evening, warmth collecting in the shadows even as indigo coloured clouds rolled in above. The rain didn’t hit until ten minutes into your walk, a Misty drizzle that had you scrunching your face until it turned into a downpour. A heavy summer storm where thunder shouted at you from the distance, way out across the cornfields and making the sky flash white. You ran down the sidewalk where there weren’t many places to stop, to shelter and you suddenly wished more than ever that you still had your shitty old car that you barely needed to use when you lived in Chicago.
But the garage was coming up, a familiar building with peeling red paint on its walls and a huge shutter that was already closed a third of the way. You hoped and prayed that Wayne was still around, wondering if it would be too cheeky to ask if you could finally take him up on the offer of that ride he once asked if you needed. Weeks of passing by and waving to him - and offering a snickerdoodle from the box you once took into work for Jonathan’s birthday - had built up a quiet sort of friendship.
The garage was quiet and the bell sounded as you pushed open the door, the workshop floor stained with oil and paint, leftover footprints that would never clean off. Cars sat asleep, some with their hoods up, engines ripped out and dismantled on the floor, and thank god, there was still a light on in the office. A warm glow through a window, the outline of a man sorting through papers and his head lifted when he heard you bump into the side of a workbench, a tool you didn’t know the name of clattering to the floor.
You winced and raised your hand in a greeting and an apology. “Sorry, hi— I just— it’s raining.”
Wayne laughed after he got over his surprise, beckoning you in with an oil stained hand. His tiny office smelled like gas and burnt tires but his smile was as friendly and tired as it always was. “Miss the bus?” He asked.
You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. Out of the summer air, the garage was cooler and you were drenched, goosebumps trailing across your forearms. “Drove right by me.”
Wayne tutted, sympathetic and he pushed what looked like a stack of invoices into a tray for tomorrow. “That’ll be that Hagan boy, never should’ve been allowed the job. Doesn’t pay any darned attention to nobody.” The man patted down his pockets, searching for his keys. “Jus’ gimme a minute and I’ll drop you off, think the boy took my damn keys. Hey, son—”
Another figure appeared in the doorway, cutting off Wayne’s call. This man was tall and broad shouldered, with dark curls that weren’t tied back. They hit his shoulders, wild strands springing around brown eyes that quickly widened at the sight of you.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“Hey!” Wayne snapped with a frown. He whacked the boy’s shoulder with a rolled up newspaper he grabbed from his desk. “That’s no way to speak to a lady. I raised you better than that, you little delinquent.”
Eddie looked astonishingly different out of his chef whites and your surprise showed on your face. Out of his uniform, you could see more skin, more ink. Tattoos curling around his forearms and creeping up towards his biceps, black leaking across lithe muscles that you didn’t get to see at work. He was all dark, black jeans with rips in the knees, a black T-shirt that was well worn, the band logo on the front unrecognisable from wear and from the fact that your music taste was wildly different.
Jewellery he didn’t get to wear glitter on him, silver rings on almost every finger, skulls and orjer horned things around his knuckles, a silver chain peeking out from underneath his collar. There was a hole in the hem of his shirt, heavy scuff marks on his big boots. He was still scowling at you though, a familiar sight that made him look more like the Eddie you knew.
You glanced at Wayne, still confused as to why he was scolding the line cook from your work. You looked back to Eddie, lips trying to wrap around an explanation. He made you feel like you weren’t supposed to be here. “I— the bus. I missed the bus.” You swallowed, an awful shyness coming over you, or maybe it was nerves. “It’s raining.”
The weather was making itself known as the storm closed in, heavy, fat drops of rain pounding on the tin roof of the garage, a deafening roar that only got heavier.
“Yeah, no shit.” Eddie called back, raising his voice to be heard over the din and his cheek got him another smack from Wayne.
“You better hope I don’t find out you talk like that in the kitchen, boy,” Wayne pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, to which the boy merely rolled his eyes at. “I’ll ask Jim, he’ll tell me.” When Eddie didn’t reply, Wayne pulled on his jacket and set about collecting more sheets of paper. He asked Eddie for his keys and pocketed them before saying, “Ed’s, be a good ‘un and take my friend here home, yeah? I gotta finish up this mess.”
When Eddie raised his brows and dropped his jaw, you were pretty sure your expression was the same. Except you were burning, both at the embarrassment of Wayne being so sweet and the idea of having to spend time with Eddie alone.
“Friend?” Eddie scoffed. “Since when?”
You wanted the floor to open up below you. “I can, I can just walk.” You jammed a thumb at the door, at the torrential rain that was still falling angrily outside of it. “I think the rain has stopped…”
Thunder bellowed from above. A leak in the corner of the work floor dripped onto an old tire. Wayne stared at you both, unimpressed.
And that’s how you ended up in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson drabble#linecook!eddie
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can i please request james potter w a shy, touch starved reader? maybe she just really really wants a hug and a cuddle but she’s too shy to ask him for one, so she’s just kinda awkwardly trying to reach for him until he picks up on it and tells her she can always have a hug and he’ll never reject her like that?? thank youu <33
thanks for requesting!!
james potter x fem!reader
You curl up on the couch, legs tucked into your abdomen as you pull your book off the coffee table and settle on the sofa. You flick to the page you were on and start reading, so deep in your book that you didn't realise James had arrived.
He set his bag down on the seat next to you and you looked up, startled, until you realised it was just your boyfriend. You gave him a soft smile. "Hi," he whispered, leaning down to give you a kiss.
"Hey," you murmured, allowing him to press your lips together. He got up and you fidgeted slightly, wanting him to be next to you. You pulled at his arm awkwardly, watching carefully as he moved away from you. "Where're you going?" you asked shyly.
James looked back, surprised. "Just gonna shower," he replied, a crooked grin spreading onto his face. "Wanna join me, honey?"
You blushed, hiding your face in your book. "No, that's okay," you responded, your voice so quiet he had to strain his ears to hear it. "You go ahead, James."
Returning back to your book, you didn't notice that James had flopped back down onto the couch. "Is something wrong?" he asked, furrowed brows and all.
You looked away, because if you didn't, you would most certainly start crying. "No, nothing's wrong."
He pressed a finger under your chin, moving your face to meet his eyes. Noticing the tears that had began to swell in your eyes, he frowned sympathetically. "Hey." His voice was deep and concerned.
James moved to wrap you in his arms, palms coming up to scratch at your scalp soothingly. You buried your face in his chest, willing the tears to go away. "Sweetheart, you're okay," he crooned over you, his lips pressing a myriad of kisses all over your head. "You can cry."
And so you did. Soft sobs that had been trapped for too long escaped, and he held you together through it all, his hold never faltering. When the tears faded, you stayed enveloped in his arms, and he let you, knowing the pressure was exactly what you needed.
"Don't apologise." He pressed a finger to your lips, always seeming to know what you were about to say. "You did absolutely nothing wrong, lovely girl." He paused. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"
When you hesitated, he added, "I can't help you if you don't tell me, baby."
You leaned your head on his shoulder. "I just wanted a hug," you admitted, the statement making you feel clingy and embarrassing.
James's face softened, and so did his touch, if it could be any more gentle. "You never have to ask for a hug. You know that, right?"
You giggled at his stern tone. "I know that now."
The corner of his lips turned up at your laugh. "Good."
#james potter fanfiction#james potter imagine#james potter fluff#james x reader#james potter fic#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter#james potter x y/n#the marauders#the marauders era#marauders era#marauders#james x you#hurt/comfort#comforting#comfort#fluff#fluff fluff fluff#my inbox 💌
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hi jadey!! can i request something with steve? maybe where reader used to be in a relationship where the other person made her to do all the work ( put in the groceries, clean the house, etc.) and one day steve is taking care of some of the chores and reader freaks out cause she’s the one supposed to be doing it?? it’s just an idea, no pressure lovely! hope you’re having a good day 🫶🫶
ty gorgeous! fem!reader
Steve hums when he's busy. No pretentiousness, no shame, he sings lyrics, guitar, and occasionally drums, too. You can hear him in the kitchen singing that Van Halen song he loves, his voice twisted tight as he tries to hit a high note.
"Are you making a sandwich?" you ask hopefully, hanging your coat on the hook as you trudge in from the front door.
You're in the kitchen before Steve's collected the wits to answer you. Your jaw falls open.
"Hey, babe," he says. It's difficult to tell if the pet name is joking or serious, Steve in his pyjamas with his sleeves rolled up, his lips quirked into a funny smile as though he's pleased to see you but confused at the same time. "No? Did you want one?"
"What are you doing?"
Steve holds his games up in surrender, a cloth held in the left. "I'm wiping down the counters?"
"Why?"
"I do this every Friday before you get home."
"What?"
Steve takes the cloth to the sink to rinse it out. Bleach bubbles squeeze from the fabric. "Am I doing it wrong? This is how I always do it. Wipe the counters, vacuum, mop. Why are you back so early?"
"Steve, you don't have to clean. I… that's my job."
"Then what's mine?" he asks, turning off the faucet and dropping the wet cloth at the bottom of the basin. He wipes his hands dry with a hand towel, ushering your forward with a gesture of his index finger. "Come here…" He wraps his arms around you. "All you do lately is work." Steve kisses your cheek three quick times. "Miss you."
You blink a little, overwhelmed, still worried. "Do I not do it right? It's okay if I don't, I can–"
"Do what? The counters? No. I just figured it's my turn before the weekend starts and you go on your cleaning frenzy. Which isn't your job, by the way. I don't know why you think that."
He's light-hearted, but your silence spurns him into a more serious tone. Taking your face into one still-damp palm, he narrows his eyes until they're more brown than anything else and says, "Do you really think it's your job?"
"I'm the girl."
"And I'm so stoked about that, but…" He smiles, pulling your cheek with his thumb to encourage the same. "That's not right. Do you even like cleaning?"
"I don't have to like it, it's housework."
Steve can't seem to decide whether this is serious or not. He goes from smiling to frowning to impassive, his fingers rubbing a slovenly path down your cheek. Strands of hair like lace drift into his eyes as he ducks his head, his gaze on your chest. "It's housework for the house we both live in. I know you've been doing more of it since we moved in, and I'm really sorry. I'm lazier than you. I should've asked you about it, but now I've let you do more and you think you need to do all of it. I'm a dick."
"No, you're not."
"I'm a total dick. You think you have to clean up after me?" He brings you in for another hug. "Holy fuck, baby. I'm a grown up."
You bristle at first, but relax the longer he holds you, his words sinking in steady. He's not criticising you; Steve is apologising and self-deprecating. You slide your arms behind his back and breathe in his smell, all things boy but with the sharp smell of bleach lingering.
"I did it myself. You know, before. So that's why it feels like it's mine to do. Not your fault," you say into his chest.
Steve pulls away. "Thanks, but I'm a huge dick no matter what."
He marches you backwards and forces you back into one of the chairs at the dining table. You grab at his arms as he attempts to walk away, lifting your chin to kiss him. It distracts him for a while, the soft, slow press of his lips against yours, your hand in his hair scratching tenderly, but he can't be kept forever. Steve ends your kissing with a peck and beelines for the fridge.
"What are you doing?" you ask.
"Making you a sandwich. Dinner and a show tonight, did I forget to tell you? You can eat the best BLT in the western hemisphere and I'm gonna vacuum the crumbs from under the toaster. Perfect Friday night, right?"
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington drabble#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things 4
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the least judgmental demon in hell | angel dust
ship/pairing: Angel Dust x male!reader (featuring Fat Nuggets)
fandom: Hazbin Hotel
request: Could you possibly do Angel dust x Male!reader? Possibly soft/comfort where Angel dust attempts to comfort the reader after a meltdown or something similar?
warnings: mentions of dead bodies and murder, mentions of harassment towards the reader, mentions of sex, swearing (it's Hazbin Hotel so...), crying, anxiety, feeling overwhelmed, meltdowns, pet names (reader gets called baby multiple times), ooc Angel?, kinda rushed the ending, not entirely proofread
word count: 1232
A/N: fem readers DNI, Angel Dust is a nwlnw character. I wrote in Fat Nuggets while I was editing so apologies if the writing doesn't flow as much. friendly reminder to not compare trauma :)
Hell isn't the most mental health friendly place to be. Like anyone with common sense, you're not unaware of that, and though not on your own terms, you've gotten used to it. Though it's useless, that doesn't stop you from wishing it was different some days. Wishing that maybe on your walks to the hotel you wouldn't trip over a dead body, or get harassed by other sinners, or witness a violent murder or very graphic sex scene. You were grateful that some days were better than others. However, today was not one of those days. And after an entire week of shitty days, it was too much for you.
You were on the edge of tears when you entered the hotel, ready to have a good cry in your room while hopefully cuddling with your boyfriend, but fate had other plans. More accurately, Charlie had other plans. You never allowed yourself to feel angry with Charlie. After all she had done for you, and all the other hotel patrons, working tirelessly for what seemed like a hopeless cause. However you did allow yourself to feel upset with her bad timing.
Barely a second after you returned to the hotel, she dragged you over to the lounge, rambling about one of her new trust exercises she'd come up with. Normally, Charlie would've been able to sense something was up with you in seconds, but she was clearly driven by her inspiration, too excited to slow down.
Your hands fidgeted together, your legs bouncing up and down as Charlie explained her idea. You tried to pay attention, you truly did. But you could barely even comprehend a word she was saying. Everything was too loud and your head felt like it was gonna explode.
"Hey," you felt a hand on your shoulder and looked up to your side, meeting the black, white and pink eyes of Angel. You calmed slightly at the touch of his hand, and you were able to focus on his voice, "You ok?"
You nodded. You knew he could tell you weren't ok in the slightest. He was more than familiar with faking smiles and bottling up feelings. Luckily for you, he didn't pry, instead choosing to stay close and keep an eye on you, figuring you'd much rather prefer to vent or cry to him in private.
When Charlie finished explaining her idea, she met your eyes and gestured for you to stand. A wave of stress hit you, and you did your best to hide it as you stood up, moving to stand beside her in front of everyone. You tried to focus on what she was telling you, you really did, but the overwhelming tightening in your chest paired with multiple pairs of eyes on you made it impossible. Surprisingly, you felt a million times worse when she stopped talking. You don't think she had stopped talking since you walked in the room, so her silence meant she was expecting you to start talking.
You looked around the room, your breaths getting shallower with every second. Charlie gently placed her hand on your shoulder, a concerned look on her face. She asked if you were ok, her voice quiet so only you could hear. You don't remember clearly, but you're pretty sure you shook your head before apologising and excusing yourself. Voices called out to you in concern as you sped up the stairs, making your way to your room as quickly as possible.
You closed the door behind you, leaning your back against it and sliding down to the floor. Tears streamed from your eyes while you held your head in your hands, trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself.
A knock sounded at the door, and you quickly wiped your tears away and cleared your throat, "Wh-who is it?"
"It's me." you recognised Angel's voice, his tone quieter than usual, "Can I come in?"
You jumped to your feet and rushed to the door, opening it and pulling Angel in. He was quick to hold you close, wrapping his arms around you, running his hands up and down your back to calm you.
"Just breathe baby," he whispered soothingly, his voice like music to your ears, "You're gonna be ok, I've got you."
Your breathing calmed down after a while, not before Angel lifted you off your feet - rather easily considering his height. He shut the door and gently sat you down on your bed, his hold on you never wavering as he sat beside you.
"You feelin' a little better?"
Shrugging, you pulled out of the hug, nodding your head yes.
Two of Angel's hands cupped your face gently, his thumbs wiping your tears away, while another set of hands rested on your shoulders, rubbing them softly, "You wanna talk about it?"
That would be harder to do than just breathing. You thought you were being over dramatic, getting so upset over small things every sinner goes through. Especially when you were sitting in front of Angel Dust. It's not that you doubted his love for you, but there was a small part in the back of your mind making you think he'd belittle your feelings and tell you that you were getting worked up over nothing.
"I dunno," you shrugged, "It's silly."
"Hey," Angel lifted your head slightly, getting you to meet his eyes, "You don't have to tell me if you don't wanna, but clearly it's not that silly if it's got you cryin'." you stayed quiet, and Angel could tell you were overthinking this, "Baby, you know me. I'll listen to you. I won't judge you for nothin'."
You hesitated, and Angel stood up from the bed, kissing your cheek before he stood to his full height, "Wait here," he said, hurrying out of your room and into the hallways until you couldn't see him anymore. Thankfully, you weren't alone for too long, and he arrived soon after he left, entering your room with Fat Nuggets in his arms.
You lit up at the sight of him, smiling widely when Angel sat back on the bed and placed him in your lap.
"If you're nervous, you can tell him." he pet Fat Nuggets on the head, "He's the least judgmental demon in Hell."
A soft laugh left your lips at his words. Fat Nuggets sat himself down on your lap as you pet him. You looked up at Angel, heart warming at his reassuring smile. Still slightly hesitant, you proceeded to explain everything that led up to your meltdown. And while you mainly directed it at Fat Nuggets, Angel listened intently, giving you his full attention just like he said he would. When you were finished talking, Angel wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you - and Fat Nuggets into a hug.
"Do you feel better now?"
"Yeah..."
"Good. And it's not dumb, baby. When you don't talk about these things, they just add up and get overwhelming. You know you can always talk to me about anything, right?"
You nodded, before resting your head in the crook of his neck, "Thank you, Angel."
“Eh, it was nothin’.” he chuckled softly, before he pulled away from the hug to look you in the eyes, “I love you so much.”
You smiled. Both his words and the caring smile on his face making your heart swell, “I love you too.”
#angel dust x male reader#hazbin angel dust#angel dust x reader#hazbin hotel angel dust#angel dust#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x male reader#fat nuggets#male reader#fanfiction#froggywritesstuff#anon#ask#x reader#x male reader#angel dust x you#gay#mlm#vivziepop#vivzieverse#hellaverse
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