#i don’t know what else to say i’m literally just staring at my own gifs of him because he’s so special i don’t even have the words 💫✨ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

psychedelic-ink · 7 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort

word count: 4.9k

summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.

warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)

a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it

a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕

Joel was never that into gambling.

Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy.

He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it.

Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way.

However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up.

One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs.

Liam folds.

A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants.

“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat.

Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.”

“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.”

Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak.

“You still have that pretty girlfriend?”

Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.”

“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins.

“Fuck you, Miller.”

“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.”

Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes.

“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.”

“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.”

You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.”

That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?

“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.”

“You should’ve thought of that before.”

“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.”

“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?”

“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.”

You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.

“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.”

“You can’t leave, where would you go?”

The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world.

And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes.

You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing.

Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color.

Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded.

The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate.

You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart.

You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything.

And it seemed like you were no exception.

Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners.

You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear.

“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.”

Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there.

And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam.

It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much.

And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self.

The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another.

You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel.

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down.

“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.”

After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you.

“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.”

He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?”

“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.”

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow.

Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.”

“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.”

Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue.

He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?”

“God, yes.”

You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard.

Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.

He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most.

Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh.

“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.”

Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion.

Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed.

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?”

It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?”

“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.”

The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage.

“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue.

Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight.

After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin.

“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.”

He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?”

“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.”

You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You sink to your knees immediately after that.

He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek.

You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks.

“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.”

You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.”

“Get on with it then.”

Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock.

“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth.

“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”

Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.

“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.”

As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass.

“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—”

His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses.

“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.”

Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts.

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.”

“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.”

“Is this pussy mine?”

“Yes, it’s fucking yours.”

Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning.

He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?”

“Yours! It’s fucking yours!”

Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking.

You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger.

“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?”

“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust.

“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words.

His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously.

“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?”

“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.”

His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.”

Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him.

With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.”

“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.”

Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!”

You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you.

“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!”

“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself.

“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.”

You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful.

You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone.

“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—”

Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out.

If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips.

“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls.

“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.”

“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss.

Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss.

“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?”

“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you.

Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm.

Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides.

Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together.

“I think he left, sweetheart.”

“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.”

Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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marvellous1917 · 10 months

Text

Icarus

(Part 1)

Pairing: mob!Bucky x tattoo artist!reader

Summary: you come home from work, only to find a mob boss in your house looking for your roommate.

Warnings: mentions of a gun, mentions of arms and drug trafficking, murder, kidnapping, torture, swearing, tattoos, gambling, think that’s it

A/n: I’m a simple girl. Mob!Bucky makes my brain go whurrrrrr. This is pure self service because I have this tattoo lol. Been along time guys what’s up?

————

“Late night?” The deep voice came from the dark.

“Holy-” fear spiked through your heart from the unfamiliar sound, your arms dropping the bags and your back crashing into the closed front door, “-who.. who are you?” You asked the unfamiliar voice. Turning slightly you see the long haired, leather covered man sat in the dining room. His left arm rested on the table, the prosthetic shining, the light from the street lamp outside shining through the window. His face was half shrouded in darkness, the other half showed his eyes, a little confused but also amused.

“You’re not Caleb.” He replied, sitting back in the chair, tilting his head to the side and moving something that looked suspiciously pistol shaped off of the table and into the inside pocket of his jacket, you reached up and flipped on the light.

“N-no no, I’m not. I’m his roommate.” You said, finally registering who you were talking to. The now fully visible metal arm was a pretty big giveaway, if nothing else. ‘There is a mob boss sat in my kitchen, what the fuck’.

“What do you want with Caleb? Does he owe you something?” The thought was out of your mouth before you could stop it. “Oh god no sorry forget I asked. Sorry... sir? I don’t-”

“I’m assuming from that reaction you know who I am,” He said, smirk on his face as he stood and moved closer, your back pressing flatter against the wall beside the door with every step he took.

“Of..of course I do, everyone in New York knows who you are..Sir” You replied.

“Hmm, I’m gonna take that as a compliment doll,”

“It is! Sorry! Congrats on all the… mafia shit.” Did I just say ‘mafia shit’ to a gangster.

The silence is awkward, his face blank and all you can think is ‘Oh my god I’m gonna die.’ His face twists into a …smile.. you think, y’know its hard to tell, fear has your vision all fuzzy.

He then starts to..laugh. He’s laughing? He’s actually laughing.

“Is this something you do before you kill people? You laugh, give them a false sense of security then shoot them?” You ramble quietly, confused at what’s happening.

He moved his left hand to rest on his stomach, the metal catching the light, shining right in you eye and it fully registered that, holy shit, James fucking Barnes, The Winter goddamn Soldier is in my house. This man is literally wanted by every law enforcement agent in the country, he’s in control of one of the most ruthless organisations in the world, they traffic arms and drugs and gun down anyone that gets in the way. Apparently, at least that’s what the news said. The stories about him though, way more upsetting.

The rumor was that after he left the special forces, he was captured by an organisation that wanted him to work for them. When he tried to escape the first time, they took his arm, and he was stuck working for them for a decade. The story goes that after he finally escaped, he tracked down everyone that was a part of it and killed them all, by himself. Alone. Just him. On his own. Then he took over their supply and demand and built his empire from the ground up.

“Oh god.. ‘congrats on all the mafia shit’, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while…” he pushed out while chuckling. “I’m gonna get that shit tattooed, I swear,” he said.

“I could do that for you,” it was out of your mouth before you could stop it. ‘Oh my god, shut up Y/N’ you thought to yourself.

“What?” He asked, eyes flitting over to yours, his piercing stare causing all sorts of feeling to rise inside your chest; fear, confusion, attraction. Attraction? What? Damn him and his pretty face. He’s a killer Y/N, remember that?

“Nothing, sorry” you answered, looking down at your feet.

“No what did you say Y/n?” He asked again, his voice more stern than before. If you weren’t so scared, you would have questioned how he knew your name.

“I said that I could give you that tattoo, sorry, just slipped out” you replied, unsure what his response would be to your completely unnecessary comment.

“Stop apologising would’ya doll, there’s no need.” He said, sort of sweetly, a small comforting smile on his face, the pet name causing all sorts of lovely feelings inside.

“Sor.. yes Sir,” you corrected yourself.

“And stop calling me Sir darlin, only my employees call me that,” he said, “well my employees and some others..” he said with a dirty smirk, causing your eyebrows to raise sky high.

“Sorry Sir,” you said quickly, not even thinking. “…shit.”

“Seriously doll, you don’t need to be so scared of me,” he stated, his right hand reaching out and landing on your shoulder, your muscles tensing for a second then relaxing when you saw the look in his eye, he was telling the truth

“Ok.. then can I ask why you are here?” You ask, some fear creeping it’s way into your voice despite his reassurance. He kept his face carefully still and he looked you up and down, the feeling of being examined was strong, like he was trying to decide if you were worthy of knowing his business.

“You got it right earlier, your roommate owes me something, and I came to get it from him,” he removes his hand from your arm as he spoke after a tense silence. He was being purposely vague, trying to gage your reaction, to see if you were really clueless or you were playing with him.

“It’s money right, I mean it has to be, what else could he owe you. I told him to stop freaking borrowing money I swear I tried to stop him, but he never listened to me..l”

“You’re rambling darlin, you realise that?” He cuts you off with a smirk on his face.

“I’ve been told I do that when I’m nervous. I don’t know how much Caleb owes you and I don’t know what the situation is but.. if you.. I mean..”

“What doll? What are you trying to say. I won’t be mad, I swear,” Barnes responds, one side of his lips tugging upwards at your mumbling.

“Could you give him some more time?”

He was not expecting that. ‘Brave little thing’ he thought.

“I mean I don’t know how long he’s owed you for but he’s getting back on track I swear, he’s getting better, he is, in-fact he’s at a gamblers anonymous meeting right now, and he has a job interview tomorrow so he can pay rent and pay back people he owes money to.” You rush out, trying to help your friend, “Of course he never told me that he owes money to a mobster but that besides the point” you add quieter, more to yourself than anything but Barnes still heard it. He chuckled and ran his flesh hand through his hair, pushing back the long strands out of his face.

“He does owe money to a mobster, quite a lot in fact so I’m gonna have to say no to that request darlin, I’ve given him long enough.” He responds, his tone dripping with authority, the Brooklyn drawl on the pet name he threw out made your heart beat faster.

“Please. Please just think about it Sir.. uh Mr Barnes.. Sir. Caleb’s had a rough go of it lately, he lost his father not too long ago and he’s been a mess ever since, if you could just give..”

“I already said no once doll, I don’t like repeating myself.” His tone was final, and even though his words were not that intense, the threat in his voice hung in the air like poison gas before slamming into your chest, the fear that had previously been quelled came racing back, sitting on your shoulders like a lead coat.

The silence stayed for longer this time, you eyes firmly fixed to the floor to a sound even the possibility of upsetting the man that had broken into your home.

“So you’re a tattoo artist huh? He asked, his low voice calming you some. Huh he’s trying to make me less afraid of him, what kind of ruthless criminal is he?

“Yes..um I am,” you answer, incredibly aware of the position you were in, better to go along with whatever he did.

“You got a flash book?” He questioned, genuinely interested.

“Uh yeah I do.” You reply awkwardly, not sure where this new line of conversation was coming from.

“Can I see it?”

“…sure,” the word came out as a question.

He nodded at you, and you took it as a sign that you were good to move. Turning slowly and moving away from the wall to your bag on the floor, you reach down and grab your flash sketchbook and hand it to him.

“Are all of these available?” He asked, flipping through the pages, taking in each design.

Seeing him like this, calmly looking through the sketchbook makes it very easy to forget who he was, a ruthless calculating Mob Boss, wanted for almost every crime under the sun.

“The ones with the X’s over them have been done before but could be repeated if someone really wanted it,” you answered, slightly more confident in yourself as you were talking about something you loved.

“This is Latin, right, what does it mean?” He asked, moving to stand next to you pointing to a design in the book, an alien inside a bottle of wine.

“‘In Vino Veritas’, it means ‘In wine, there is truth’” you say, “ I though it was funny, y’know.. ‘the truth is out there’..aliens..” you trailed off, not sure how to explain that design

He let out an quiet amused sound, his shoulder brushing yours, sending a trail of chills down your spine.

“This one is beautiful,” he said, pointing to a different design on the next page.

“Thank you, it’s Icarus, I have it tattooed on me, it was hard as hell doing it on my own leg,” you say, proud of the design you created.

“Icarus, what’s his story? I can’t quite remember, ” he asks.

“It’s a Greek myth y’know, Icarus and his father were held captive by King Minos in a tower, his father created wax wings so they could fly away from their captors. The father warned Icarus from flying too high or too low, but he ignored his fathers warnings and flew too close to the sun and his wings melted. It’s a moral story to warn against the dangers of complacency and hubris, but to me it’s just a tragedy.” You say, turning to face him, making eye contact with the man. He listened intently to the story, his face unreadable but you thought you saw a flash of something in his eyes, maybe he related to the myth, a man that was once held captive, now with everything in his hands, in danger of losing it all if he flew too close to the sun himself.

“A tragedy huh? I don’t think there’s anything tragic about it. He was warned not to do something dangerous and he went and did it anyway, it’s his own damn fault,” he stated, something slightly argumentative in his tone.

He looked straight at you while speaking and you couldn’t help but feel as if he was looking into your soul, like his statement was some kind of test.

“I agree with the idea that he got what he deserved, but I meant it as a tragedy for his father. Creating something so pure for you and your child to escape from captivity, only for your child to ignore your warnings and pay the ultimate price for it. His father probably spent the rest of his life regretting escaping his prison because that was the action that ultimately lead to his sons death. It’s heartbreaking if you see it from a different perspective,” you say back, not really expecting him to engage you in a philosophical debate.

“Hmm.. that’s an interesting way to see it, I’m not really one for looking at different perspectives, mine suits me just fine,” he answered, the fact that this man was dangerous came screaming back to you with the look on his face, blank like he was devout of all emotion at that moment. You got the feeling he wasn’t speaking metaphorically anymore.

The tension was palpable, you not knowing what to say next and him deciding he was done talking for the time being. He placed the book down on a side table, and turned back to you. “Y’know what, I want it.” He said, confusing flooding your brain.

“Want what?” You ask calmly, not wanting to push your luck with the man.

“That tattoo, the Icarus one, I want it.” He answers, leaning back against the side of the table he was sat at earlier. His crossed his arms, which should have been intimidating, but for some reason the only thought floating through your head was Damn his arms are bigger than my head. Gimmie.

“You want the Icarus?” You ask, somewhat stupidly and he had just said that.

“Yes I do,” he answered simply, “Are you free tomorrow?” He asks, smile on his face.

“Umm not really, I have a few appointments tomo..”

“Move them, hell cancel them. Block out a spot long enough for me to get this tattoo.” He states, cutting of your sentence.

“I can’t do that, it’s too short notice and I could loose..”

“I’ll pay what ever you lose for cancelling the appointments. I’m getting this done, tomorrow.” He cuts you off again, a finality in his tone that warns you it would be pointless and probably rather stupid to argue.

“Uh..ok” you respond, shaking your head a little, still trying to figure out what just happened.

“Great.” He clapped his hands together and the sound made you jump. Barnes either didn’t notice it or just didn’t care. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh? Why do you want my phone?” You question.

Barnes just rolled his eyes, walked forward until he was stood right infront of you, toe to toe, staring down at you with a semi amused look on his face.

“How am I supposed to find out where your shop is if you don’t text me the location?” He said sarcastically.

Literally a million different ways, google it for starters, get one of your goons to find it, stalk me and follow me there.. c’mon man think. Obviously you kept these thoughts to yourself but Barnes smirked as if he could hear them anyway. Pulling out your phone and handing it to him you ask, “What time do you want to come in for?”

“Around 1-ish doll, that ok?” He asked, knowing that it is, as he’s already told you to move/cancel your other appointments.

“That’s fine by me Bar..Mr Barnes” you answer, slipping up, almost forgetting the level of respect you should probably show to the gangster in your home.

He calls his phone from yours, adding the new number to contacts in both phones, “there, now you can let me know the address of your shop.”

“I’ll sent it to you tomorrow.. unless you want me to send it now?” You asked he hands your phone back , uncertain of what he wanted

“Tomorrows fine” he answers, walking backwards towards the front door, “I’ll see ya in the afternoon doll,” he says while opening the door and mostly leaving until he pauses completely, slowly turning back towards you.

This is it, he’s been messing with me this whole time and now he’s going to shoot me.

“Tell Caleb he has 6 weeks to get my money back to me or I’ll be paying him another visit, ok doll.” He says, no question in his voice. He waits until you answer with a “Yes, Mr Barnes,” and disappears into the hallway outside your apartment.

It takes about 5 minutes for the shock to fully wear off, and it causes you to stagger over to the couch, fall backwards onto it an ask into the empty room, “What the actual fuck just happened?”

As soon as the question was out of your mouth , your phone buzzed in your hand.

James:

Don’t ever call me Mr Barnes again Y/n.

It makes me feel ancient.

I hate that.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #mob!bucky #bucky barnes #mob!bucky fic #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #tattoo artist!reader

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saetoru · 9 months

Note

tee!!! i hope u don't mind me asking about rb!gojo but i've been wondering if he's ever visited reader at work? :o (actually i wonder a lotta thINGS about rich boy! gojo and reader, this is just the thought that i think about the most LMAO)

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。SECURITY — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)

contents. college! au, rich boy! gojo, established relationships, reader’s work is unspecified ; notes. niku HELP. i bet he does visit often and i bet it’s equally endearing as it is utterly embarrassing

for anyone else, having your boyfriend visit you at work is sweet. it’s romantic. it might even be the standard—for you, having satoru visit is a nightmare.

“hiya baby! i brought lunch—i know you didn’t have time to eat breakfast today, you were running late. i kept you up all night, huh? you seemed tired. what can i say? i’m just too good at what i do.”

what. the. fuck—every time satoru opens his mouth, you regret not sewing it shut when you had the chance. he manages to make you wish you could crawl into your own skin and turn inside out.

you glare at him. he grins.

“this is your boyfriend?” your coworker gapes, staring at satoru as he plasters a smug little smirk on his face—a part of you wants to tell your coworker to stop looking at him with heart eyes before you staple them shut. the other part wants to deny ever being involved with the jerk that’s effectively embarrassed you for the rest of your career in the span of two seconds.

“i don’t know who this is,” you say quickly, “can we get security?”

“wha—what are you talking about? i’m literally your boyfriend,” satoru sputters. you look at your coworker like he’s crazy—she looks at you like you’ve grown two heads.

“he’s not,” you insist.

“i am!”

“definitely not,” you shake your head.

satoru looks more than a little offended. “i totally am! don’t lie!”

“i swear he’s not my boyfriend,” you chuckle nervously, “i don’t even date guys with freaky blue eyes and weird white hair, really!”

“hey!” he gasps, pouting, “that’s mean! you called me handsome this morning!”

“i don’t even know his name,” you insist—your coworker doesn’t seem to believe you, unfortunately. why doesn’t she believe you? you plead with the universe that she somehow, by the grace of god, believes you.

“that’s a lie,” satoru snorts, “you knew it pretty well last night. i think my neighbors know it too.” leave it to gojo satoru to embarrass you even worse than he already has at your job of all places.

“satoru,” you scold harshly before you realize—and then you blink before sighing because…well, you’ve really backed yourself into a corner with that one.

“aha,” he grins victoriously, “see? you know my name. now introduce your boyfriend who took the time to cook you—”

“buy,” you correct. he huffs.

“fine. buy you lunch—still very thoughtful, if you ask me.”

“wow,” your coworker giggles, “you guys are…certainly a dynamic.”

“thank you!” satoru grins, beaming as he sends you a wink. you think you might have to put in your two weeks notice during your lunch break—but at least you can wallow in your miseries with an expensive lunch provided by the bane of your existence.

“that wasn’t a compliment, satoru,” you grumble.

“well, at least he’s cute,” she chuckles, elbowing you.

you scowl, crossing your arms as you warn, “don’t be looking too closely. he enjoys the attention.”

“are you jealous?” satoru wiggles his brows. with a fake smile, you grab the lunch from his hands before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

“thank you for lunch baby,” you hum—he smiles, ready to answer when you cut him off, “security!”

this is so unserious 💀

#teepods.writings #rich boy! au #drabbles.#gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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literaila · 6 months

Note

hey v ! what about peter and reader getting ready to go somewhere and after reader puts on some red lipstick peter can't stop kissing her ?

lipstick

warnings: ugh, peter

“how many times have you done that?”

peter is standing behind you, leaning against the wall, probably ruining your focus, or your makeup, or your sanity. he’s probably staring just to mess with you.

you refrain from smiling in the mirror. wipe a smudge with your nail. “i don’t know, peter,” you meet his eyes, and his nefarious smirk. “how many times have you watched me do it?”

“i got lost somewhere around the first time.”

you laugh at him, crumbling the napkin you’ve been using, now filled with kiss marks, and turning it around so you can throw it at peter. “are you sick?” you ask him.

instead of answering, he licks his lip and unfolds the napkin, staring at the red marks, creases and tireless efforts arranged in a messy pattern. “this is like art.”

“why are you acting like you’ve never seen anyone wear lipstick before?”

“what?” he asks, hand to his chest. “i cant watch you get ready? i’m banned from being in the bathroom when you are?”

“yes, and yes.”

it does not escape your notice when peter tucks the napkin into his pocket for safekeeping.

he shrugs. “i don’t mind breaking the rules.”

you scoff at him and pat his shoulder as you walk past him through the doorway. “i would’ve locked you out if i knew you were going to be weird about it.”

“weird? how am i being weird?”

“you were lurking. you’re still lurking.”

“i’m talking to my girlfriend. that’s part of our contract.”

“you’re following me.”

peter smiles. “well, i like you.”

you roll your eyes, almost—almost—smiling when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. “please don’t make me argue about your stalker like tendencies.”

“we don’t have to argue,” peter says, kissing the space beneath your ear. his breath is hot.

“i need to put my shoes on, peter.”

he smiles, his teeth clashing against your skin like a dreadful reminder. some type of jumpscare—minus the fact that you merely lean into him, sans jumping. “we can spare fifteen minutes.”

“how can you be thinking about anything besides the fact that we’re already late to meet may?”

he nibbles on the skin by your collarbone, then licks it, as reprieve. “it must be the lipstick.”

“you’ve literally seen me with lipstick before. i wore some on our first date.”

“‘s probably why i like it so much.”

his lips are needy as they crawl around your skin. his hands are stationary, but they pose their own threat as they lurk.

“peter, we have to go.”

“i’m not known for my punctuality,” he spins you around, his lips curled in mischief, “you know.”

“i’m aware.”

you refuse to indulge him. your brows furrow, your hands held in the air—just so you can avoid accidentally touching him. purposefully.

“then why are you so worried?” peter asks, kissing your cheek.

“i’m not kissing you,” you say, instead of answering.

“you’re not?” peter pouts like a child. he is far too grown.

“no.”

“how come?”

you try to pull away from him, but, shockingly, peter is stronger than you are. your will is weak. “you’re going to smudge my lipstick. i just finished.”

“you have more, don’t you?”

“not the point.”

“what?” he asks, his voice so serious and teasing. “you don’t want to kiss me?”

“no, i do not.”

you look away from him, admiring a wall that has always been there.

“are you sure?” peter asks, ducking so he can catch your eyes again, because he is nothing if not cruel.

you break, pouting. “peter,” you whine, “we’re not going to be late again.”

“i think we are.”

“you can kiss me when we get home later,” you promise, trying again to wiggle out of his grasp.

“that is a terrible compromise.”

“you won’t compromise,” you snap back. “what else am i supposed to do?”

peter grins, tilting his head. “okay. i have an idea. how about i kiss you, and then we leave? you don’t even have to kiss back, even though we’d both prefer it that way.”

“i’ll kiss you,” you mock him. “you’re the worst negotiator i’ve ever met.”

“then how come we haven’t left yet?”

you scowl at him, and he scowls back, but his eyes are alight.

your skin is ravenous with an ache to touch him, he’s so close that kissing him would be nothing—merely breathing, really—but you don’t want to lose this game to peter. and you dont want him to stop looking at you.

he pretends to check a watch. “hmm, it’s getting awfully late.”

“are you british all of the sudden?”

peter grins, biting his lip before he tries to bite you. you lean away. “if you like my accent, all you have to do is say so.”

“i like it when you get out of my way, and stop trying to sabotage me. i like that a lot.”

“no clue what you mean, dear.”

you roll your eyes and manage to cross your arms in his hold.

“i wonder how we could solve this,” peter muses, tapping his finger on your waist. “it’s a big problem.”

“i could leave you behind and have lunch with may myself.”

“that’s one option.”

you roll your eyes again.

“i was thinking something else, though,” peter says, and he’s closer now, but you’re sure that you never saw him move. “something more… proactive.”

“shove it, peter.”

“you don’t even want to hear it?”

you sigh, leaning your chest into him, out of pure delusion. “fine. what?”

peter smiles at you, eyes catching eyes.

the look on his face is soft, delirious. he’s got that look in his eyes, and that smile on his face, and he’s still staring at you like he’s mesmerized by whatever you’re doing.

“what?” you repeat, but softly, like you can’t find your voice in the chest cavity peters taken hold of.

“kiss me,” he says, softly, and it’s really not your fault that his lips are already brushing yours.

and it’s not your fault when you lean in, sighing in relief at the mere feel of him.

you’re almost breathless, from the tiniest of kisses.

but then you kiss peter again, and again, and your hands finally wrap around him—keeping hold of something real in this fake reality—and your voice isn’t your own when you groan at peter for making you do this.

you have evacuated your body. you have lost common sense.

but it doesn’t matter, because kissing peter has always made you forget all of that.

and it still does, when he pulls back, grinning like he’s won. “see?” he says, voice ragged. “it was simple.”

“we’re going to be late and it’s your fault.”

peter laughs, kissing you again, staring at your red lips. “gladly. i’ll take all the blame.”

“and you’re making it up to me later.”

“whatever you say,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your bottom lip.

he releases you and watches as you finally put on your shoes.

you don’t think it necessary to mention the red marks on his lips. it’s not like it’s your fault they’re there.

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rapunzelbro · 3 months

Note

I've been reading your fabulous Lucifer and tall reader. I found a tiktok for a Lucifer scenario. I thought it was perfect just hiding little duckies all over the castle and hotel for Lucifer to find and to also piss Alastor off. 🙂

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8vdXanP/

The Great Duck Hunt of The Century! Ft. Lucifer & Alastor!

This title is so so so fucking specific. Remember my hiatus? Yeah I don’t remember either. I feel like I like writing for Lucifer and Angel more ngl and silly prompts like these give me inspiration. Idk why anywho enjoy~ Angel , Reader, Lucifer, Alastor Husk

Masterlist Taglist

Throughout your relationship with Lucifer you always found new ways to spice it up in the bed room

If you thought sex well, that too

But you meant something else, and that was The Great Duck Hunt of The Century!

What is it you may ask?

Well let’s just say Lucifer made a bunch of mini ducks out of pure boredom one day with you. So you snagged them all when you two were done with them

And spent the next 7 hours placing 500 in the castle and 500 in the Hazbin Hotel

Why? Because why the fuck not

Lucifer was excited and was happily looking around but when you got a text from Angel you knew you were fucked, screwed, in trouble

“Girl what tf did you do”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Why is Smiles yelling about finding ducks all over the hotel”

“Husk is literally finding them in the liquor bottles and choked on one of them and not the good kinda choke if you know what I mean” “🍆💦”

“I made a scavenger hunt for Lucifer that’s all 🫢”

“You didn’t hide any in my room did you”

“Hell no you’re my friend”

“Aw thank you sweetie💗 might wanna avoid the hotel for a while he is pissed I’ll keep rehiding them though. Ttyl babe~”

“Thanks for the warning”

Yeah uh let’s just say, after Lucifer did find a majority of them. Him being short Didn’t give him an advantage and you mentioned to him there’s a ton left so out comes Lucifer in bird mode

Dude is flying throughout his castle knocking so much shit over in the process to find these ducks and he is so fucking happy? Dude is so glad you did this.

It went on for hours

When you finish counting what he found you announce he found 500/1000

“HOLY SHIT THERES MORE??”

He didn’t know how you had so much dedication but he did and was ready to go to the hotel to find the rest

You texting Angel

“How many did he find?”

“I wanna say 100? This radio demons is ripping this hotel apart for them, Charlie thinks her dad did it but I let her in on it and told Vag. They think it’s funny as fuck. Well Charlie not as much but Vag is dying over here”

“omg did I tell you there’s bets being placed on this shit on if he burns the building down or not? Get your ass over here “

Lucifer makes a portal for you two because stepping into the hotel

Holy

Shit

It was a mess?? There were spots you didn’t even put any that were destroyed

“What the actual fuck?”

Everyone is just at the bar watching shit go down as Alastor is ripping the hotel apart for the ducks.

Lucifer is no where to be seen. This man’s instantly looking for the ducks and fixing up the building as he goes for his daughters sake

Alastor noticing you just appeared and him going up to you with his demon form practically almost fully out from his pissed this man is

“I’m hoping it wasn’t you who did this, or I’m afraid ł’ⱠⱠ ₱ɆⱤ₴Ø₦₳ⱠⱠɎ Ⱨ₳VɆ ₮Ø Ɽł₱ ɎØɄ Ⱡł₥฿ ฿Ɏ Ⱡł₥฿ Ʉ₦₮łⱠ ɎØɄ ⱤɆ₥ØVɆ ɆVɆⱤɎ ₴ł₦₲ⱠɆ Ø₦Ɇ Ø₣ ₮ⱧɆ₴Ɇ ₣Ʉ₵₭ł₦₲ ĐɄ₵₭₴”

His voice getting so fucking loud and static holy shit it was scary but you just back away as quickly as possible before Lucifer comes out with a fuck ton of the mini ducks before running infront of you.

Lucifer and Alastor stare at each other before Lucifer almost fucking launches at his ass for yelling at you

You instantly having to hold him back

“Listen you find these fuckers easily right? Help me find them and I won’t have to kill your little girlfriend”

“Haha fuck you. I’d love to see you try. I’m looking on my own terms “

Yeah he highkey didn’t want to take that chance regardless but he wasn’t lying when he said he was looking on his terms. Him bringing the ducks back to you as he found them

You counting them but Angel distracting you so much you had to double count everything like four times.

When he found them all the hotel surprisingly didn’t burn down, which caused almost everyone to give Husk money

“Hah.. old cats still got it”

Yeah Husk knew it wouldn’t be that dramatic considering if it had any involvement with you, or Lucifer, Lucifer could’ve easily fixed the building before it got to the point of that

He is fucking good

Alastor making the ducks dissolve in thin air once you counted them all and confirmed they were all found and Lucifer mourning the loss of his ducks while you and Charlie awkwardly comfort him.

Alastor instantly going back to his room with the worlds most irritating smile

“Please when you have this.. duck hunting again..you have it NOT HERE”

“Well that went better than I thought..”

And that was the end of the Great Duck Hunt of the century

It was the most fun Lucifer ever had.

And to see Alastor in that state was the icing on the cake.

He loved you so much and was 100% going to make himself a trophy since he found them all

It’s just the little things you do or even in this case the big things that make him appreciate you even more

Especially if it involves pissing off Alastor my god you got hella bonus points for that shit

Lucifer Taglist: @vendetta-ari @brithedemonspawn @katshyperfixations @aphestina @satansmanager @irethepotato @storydays @saturnhas82moons @zamadness

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel #hazbin art #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel valentino x reader #Hazbin hotel Lucifer x reader

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sugrhigh · 3 months

Text

ALL YOURS - ( roomie!matt pt 5 )

summary- you and your roommate matt have been sleeping together for a minute now, but neither one of you wants to ask the other what it means. feelings come to fruition one night at a party and the dynamics of your relationship change once again.

warnings- nsfw content ahead people so read at ur own risk, swearing, drug/alcohol use, dom!matt kinda, unprotected sex, it’s straight up smut at the end so fr don’t read it if u don’t want to!

roomie!matt x fem!reader

a/n: THIS IS TECHNICALLY PART 5 OF THE ROOMIE!MATT TEXT SERIES so if you haven’t read those you might be a bit confused. link to the master list is here.

strap in because it’s kinda long so i hope u guys love this final chapter as much as i do <3 inbox is always open xo

@sleepysturnss

rain patters against the windows mercilessly as the tv drones on, interrupted only by booming thunder every few minutes.

its late in the day now, and the cloud coverage makes it extra gloomy, even with interior lights on. not that this bothers you.

storms have always been a source of comfort in your eyes. something about them makes you feel safe, reminds you that the world is far bigger than whatever is worrying you.

“oh, i’ve been meaning to ask if you’re still seeing that guy. what’s his name again?” nick asks from beside you, scrolling mindlessly on his phone as he slumps against the couch.

you’ve been sitting like this for hours together, rotting in his living room while it continues to pour outside.

“it’s luke, and no, i’m not talking to him anymore.” you reply, trying to sound as casual as possible.

he looks up at you now, clearly a bit shocked to be hearing this. “please tell me it’s not because of my bitch ass brother.”

you bark out a laugh before you can stop yourself, mostly due to the fact that it’s absolutely because of matt. just not for the reason he thinks.

“as if. it was my decision, don’t worry.”

this is only half true. you did cut the poor guy off, but only because matt had essentially instructed you to do so before you guys had sex for the first time a month ago.

and then you hooked up again. and again. and a couple more times after that. neither of you could stop coming back for more apparently.

none of your friends know yet. as much as you want to be honest with them, you haven’t really talked about the details of this little situation. you’re almost positive matt hasn’t been seeing anyone else, but you also haven’t outright asked.

and there’s no use telling everyone about something that might not even be real.

“what made you do that? was the sex bad? is he an asshole?” nick interrogates further, clicking his phone off so his full attention is on you.

you can’t tell if he’s suspicious or if you’re just genuinely paranoid, but you don’t like this line of questioning either way.

“no he’s fine, he just wasn’t doing it. and his breath always smelled for some reason.” you’re lying through your teeth, but his face morphs into an expression of disgust like he’s buying it.

“ew, major turn off.”

“you’re telling me.”

nick sighs and snuggles further into the cushions, resting his head on your shoulder as he stares at the tv.

“well for what it’s worth, i’m sorry it didn’t work out. but who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone sexy at nathan’s tomorrow.” he says.

“yeah, maybe.” you feed into the hypothetical, even though you know that won’t be happening.

at least not if matt sturniolo has a say in it.

your music is playing softly over the speaker as you get ready, perched in front of your vanity like a doll. you’ve just finished your makeup when you hear a singular tap on the door.

“can you hurry it up in here?” matt calls as he pushes it open slightly.

you find it funny that he’s always sure to knock, ever since he walked in on you naked that fateful afternoon. even though you’re literally sleeping together now, he makes it a point to not invade your privacy.

“can’t rush perfection, matthew.” you taunt him as you put your palette and brushes back in their rightful place.

he moves further into your room, walking over to stand behind you. he’s dressed up in jeans and that black muscle tee you love so much, tattoos on display as his hands go to knead your shoulders lightly.

“you do look amazing.” he compliments.

“likewise.” you reply before meeting his searing gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

he increases his pressure slightly, digging his fingers into your neck in a steady pattern. you already know what he’s angling at and he hasn’t even spoken.

“you know, we could just stay home.” matt suggests with a smirk.

“c’mon, we can’t keep ditching our friends. they’re gonna get suspicious at some point.” you shake your head and stand up, because the massage is starting to feel a little too good.

“nobody cared when we left early last time.”

you cross your arms over your chest and turn to give him a pointed look. “because you convinced them that i was sick.”

“so i’ll just tell them a different lie.” he shrugs.

“oh my god, i am going to this party with or without you, so you better make up your mind before the uber gets here.” you say over your shoulder, headed out of your room toward the stairs.

“such a brat.” he grumbles, but you hear him following you regardless.

“only for you.”

two hours later you’re standing in the middle of nathan’s living room, dancing along with the typical crowd. nick and madi are on either side of you, both bopping around drunkenly to the beat.

you’ve had three shitty drinks at this point and your head feels a bit fuzzy. you’re positive your cheeks are flushed, which is actually kind of nice.

matt was with you minutes earlier, but he’s ventured off to get another drink. it’s selfish that you miss him every second he’s not around.

it’s just nice having him by your side. sure, it was kind of casual at first, and you didn’t think it was going to develop so quickly. but now whatever is going on between you means a whole lot more.

you like when he asks you to spend the night in his room, or when he saves the last can of redbull for you so you don’t go to work without caffeine. you like that he’s been replacing the flowers he got you every time they start die, the way he insists on driving you places even if it’s out of his way.

you just like him, and it’s more than casual. at least it is to you, and you can’t imagine that at this point he doesn’t feel the same.

but you don’t want to be the one to try and put a label on it. quite frankly, it scares the shit out of you, and you’re still not drunk enough to keep thinking about it in the middle of this party.

you see chris a few feet away against the wall, beer in his hand as he chats animatedly with nathan. you know he has what you’re looking for, so you shout that you’ll be back and head their direction.

they both smile at you as you approach, almost perfectly in sync.

“what’s up!” chris leans down a bit so you can hear him better.

“do you still have that joint you mentioned earlier?” you ask into his ear.

he nods happily, and nathan shoots you both a questioning glance. by the looks of his sleepy eyes, he’s probably already crossed.

“we’re going to smoke!” you fill him in, motioning toward the front door.

nathan nods and tells you he’ll stay back, so the two of you shuffle your way out of the living room, trying to avoid bumping into as many people as possible.

you pass the kitchen, and as your eyes scan the people you spot matt huddled in the corner. he’s talking to a very obviously enthusiastic girl, one that you don’t recognize. your stomach drops at the sight of them, and you hate it.

he doesn’t see you, so you turn your head and keep following behind chris. he’ll stop talking to her soon. he’ll probably even come looking for you instead.

right?

the crowd thins as out by the door, and the two of your step out into the fresh air moments later. the street is relatively quiet, and once the door is shut the noise of the party is muffled. there’s nobody else outside, and you’re grateful.

the other townhouses stare at you as chris crosses the short driveway so he can hide underneath the tree in the yard. you follow his lead, watching as he fishes the lighter and joint out of his front pocket.

“keeping it handy, huh?” you joke.

“you caught me at the right time, i just packed it upstairs.” he smiles before putting it between his lips.

the flame burns the end as he takes a hit, exhaling up toward the sky. you pass it back and forth in silence, both enjoying the momentary break from socialization.

chris clears his throat a minute later, nudging at the grass with his toe absentmindedly. “so, i have a question to ask you.”

he looks over so he can hand the joint back, and your hands shake ever so slightly as you reach out to take it.

“yeah?”

“i think matt is seeing someone. do you know anything about that?” he asks bluntly.

you try to remain calm as you shake your head at him, though it seems impossible. you aren’t prepared for this at all.

“uh, no?”

chris smiles just a little bit, like he’s already got you right where he wants you. “so he doesn’t bring anyone over? it’s just the two of you?”

your narrow your eyes at him. “just ask what you want to ask.”

“are you guys together?”

there it is. you were expecting it this time, and it still makes your stomach flip.

“no. i mean, kind of? we’re not like, dating. we’re just…uh…hooking up.” you’re trying so hard to figure out how to put it that it sounds horrible.

he just laughs. “no you’re not. that kid is in love with you.”

your jaw drops slightly in surprise, and this only makes chris chuckle harder.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you ask him once he finally calms down.

“i’ve seen how he’s acting lately. so fucking goofy, like he’s got his head in the clouds. he only ever gets all dopey like that when he really likes someone, and i kind of suspected it was you.”

it’s hard to find any words. there’s simply nothing on your brain, no coherent thought to be found. chris gives you a playful nudge.

“it’s okay, i won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to. but i think you feel the same.” he makes a guess, and he’s very accurate.

you look away as you take your final hit, trying to decide how you want to respond. you exhale the smoke and pass the remainder of the joint back to him.

“okay, you got me. i do want it to be like, a real relationship. and i’ll talk to him about it soon, i promise. just please don’t tell anyone until i do.” you plead.

he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug. you relax into him, and you have to admit you’re a bit relieved that at least somebody knows now.

“of course not. i’m here to support you both whenever you’re ready. everyone else will be too.”

“thank you. that makes me feel a lot better, seriously.” you say truthfully as he pulls away.

“good.” he nods in satisfaction, giving you a loopy grin.

“i’ve mooched enough, so i’m gonna go back inside, but thanks again. i owe you a blunt for the reality check.” you point a finger at him as you back up off of the grass.

“i’ll never turn that down.”

the high has taken over as you spin around to walk normally, and it’s nearly impossible to stop smiling. having confirmation that you’re not crazy for feeling the way that you do is wonderful.

you head back inside the house, almost positive that you’d find matt hanging out somewhere with your friends.

but as you pass the kitchen again, you spot him in the same place, leaned up against the end of the counter with a solo cup in hand. it seems like the girl is even closer than she was before.

your face falls immediately. it makes you angry that it’s been so long and he still hasn’t told her to get lost yet. if he wants to be all possessive over you, then you shouldn’t have to act so cool for him.

you’re certainly not feeling collected right now. and he deserves to know that.

you wedge your way around the people chatting and pouring themselves drinks without a second thought. matt sees you coming before you actually reach him, and he looks confused by your irritated expression.

you wrap your fingers around his arm wordlessly, right in the middle of the nameless girl’s sentence. he doesn’t put up a fight. in fact, he’s practically hot on your heels as you pull him back toward the hall.

“uh—hey! we were talking bitch!” she shouts after you.

“don’t care.” you don’t even give her the satisfaction of making eye contact.

there’s really no point. matt is trailing behind you like a puppy, and that’s all that matters. he clearly doesn’t want to be there any more than you want him to.

“what’s going on?” he asks as you maneuver around the outside of the crowded living room, making a beeline for the staircase.

it’s taped off to everyone except your group, in case of emergency.

this feels like one, considering you don’t even care if anyone sees you together. you don’t respond, you just let go of his hand and step over the thin barrier, glancing behind you to see if he’ll follow.

there’s a curious look in his eye, but he does the same.

you continue up the stairs, making sure he has the perfect view of your ass as you go. you can literally feel him staring, which only stokes the fire.

“are you taunting me right now?” matt asks as you reach the second floor.

this makes you pause, and you turn around so you can wrap your hand in his shirt. you yank him into the bathroom, slapping the light switch on with your free hand.

you close the door behind you, which suppresses the booming sound of nathan’s music playing through the speakers.

“what the hell is this?” you uncurl your fist and shove his chest to put some space between you.

his eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he regains his balance and sets his cup down on the counter. you realize you probably spilled some of it by dragging him around, but that’s not your main focus right now.

“what do you mean?”

“don’t you dare play dumb. you can’t stand it when anyone else even breathes near me, so why would you think that i would be okay watching you flirt with some random girl for fifteen minutes? you either want me or you fucking don’t, matt.” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

it’s shocking that you’re being this honest with him, but you’re faded and you’ve been pushed beyond your limit.

no use tip-toeing around it now.

“you think just because she came up to me that somehow means i don’t want you?” he asks, and there’s more of an edge to his tone now.

“how am i supposed to know? we haven’t talked about it, whatever this is.” you wave your hand back and forth between the two of you.

a look of understanding passes over his face. “oh, this is about labels, huh?”

this infuriates you more, because that’s not even the point you’re trying to make. he’s aggravatingly calm right now, like he’s so sure of himself.

“look, if you don’t want to be in a real relationship with me, then fine. i don’t care. but i’m not gonna keep exclusively sleeping with just you if that’s the case.”

matt is silent for a moment, eyes darting across your face. you can see him gazing at your lips, and it drives you crazy.

he takes one step forward, staring you down with those pretty blue eyes. even though your height different is relatively small, it still feels like he’s towering above you.

“are you really trying to tell me you wouldn’t care at all if i wanted to see other people?” he asks quietly.

his face is so close, and you breathe in his familiar smoky cologne. it’s dizzying, being this overwhelmingly attracted to someone.

“of course i’d be upset, but there’s not much i can do about it if you don’t feel the same.” your voice is hushed now too, and you wish you didn’t sound so weak.

matt cups your chin gently with one hand, forcing you to keep your focus on him. your heart is slamming against your ribcage now, begging for some kind of relief.

“i want to be with you so bad that it kills me.” he finally admits.

it’s your turn to be stunned, and you stay completely still as his thumb grazes over your bottom lip slowly.

“i had this whole thing planned, i was going to take you to a fancy little restaurant and ask you out like a gentleman. but you just couldn’t wait, could you?” his voice is husky, pupils blown out in lust.

“i…really?” you ask breathlessly.

“really. so what do you think? you wanna be mine?” he goads with a smirk, gripping your face a bit tighter.

it’s normally hard to swallow your pride, especially with matt, but you’re so vulnerable in this moment you can’t tell him anything besides the truth.

“i do.”

“good, because you already are.” he growls before closing the gap between you, lips crashing against yours.

he tastes sweet, like the soda he’s been mixing with vodka all night. it’s a pleasant mess of teeth and tongue as you deepen the kiss, passionate in a way that you’ve never experienced with him before.

his hands travel down to grab at your hips, pressing against you so your lower back bumps against the sink. you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling enough to elicit a groan.

it vibrates against your mouth, and you feel yourself throb just from that little noise alone. he’s normally not very vocal, but you bring it out of him.

matt’s hands slide up your body, finding their way under the hem of your sheer lace top. his cold rings press against your stomach as he slowly inches higher, leaving goosebumps in their wake. you let go of him, throwing your hands upwards so he can peel the shirt over your head.

“so fucking pretty, just for me.” matt praises as he tucks your hair behind your ear, attaching his lips to your neck seconds later.

you tilt your head back to give him a better angle, sighing in pleasure as he nips at the soft skin. one hand is feeling up your chest as his teeth dig into your collar, tongue sliding over the marks he’s leaving in an attempt to soothe the irritated areas.

you move your own fingers down between both of your bodies, ghosting them over the crotch of his jeans, palming him just a bit. his dick is already straining against your hand, and he hisses a string of curses into your shoulder.

“no more teasing tonight, i need you now.” he grumbles, already out of breath as his hands travel to undo the button of your pants.

you take the lead and slide them down yourself, tearing your thin panties off with them because you want him just as much. it doesn’t seem fair that you’re the only one exposed, so you tug his muscle tee upwards in desperation.

matt doesn’t protest, he just tosses it to the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes. you let your fingers rake over his skin, down his abdomen and over his happy trail until your fingers meet the waistline of his jeans.

you glance up at him through your lashes as you unbuckle his belt, entirely naked now, and he swears he could finish just by looking at you.

the sensation of your hands skimming against his thighs as you drag his jeans and boxers to his ankles makes him twitch. nobody has ever turned him on the way you do, and it’s frightening how good you make him feel.

but you always enjoy everything just as much, because he’s the best dick you’ve ever had. perfect length, enough girth to stretch you out, and he knows exactly how to move to your liking. matt even keeps it trimmed nicely.

the tip glistens with precum, and you pull your hair back with one hand like you’re getting ready to put it in your mouth.

“no, stand back up baby.” he instructs, and the commanding note in his voice makes you push yourself off your knees, extending to your full height.

matt turns you around so you’re facing the mirror, one hand on your side and the other on your back as he forces you to bend at the waist. your forearms press flat against the cool marble counter, and the assertiveness of it all sends a jolt of excitement right to your core.

his palm comes down on the curve of your ass without warning, just hard enough to sting. you let out a whimper, arching your back more as you gaze at him through the reflection.

he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, smoothing his hand over the place he just hit. his eyes are so dark, so full of desire that it just solidifies the way you feel about him.

“you like that? you want me to be rough?” matt leans over you, cock pressed against you as he speaks into your ear.

“please.” you whine, shifting your hips to try and feel more of him, to feel anything.

he stops your movements immediately and smacks your ass again, this time on the opposite side. it makes you groan in delight, almost involuntarily.

“you’re gonna look at yourself while i fuck you, got it princess?” he says, backing up just a bit so he can take his dick into his own hand and pump a few times.

you nod as you feel him line himself up at your entrance, and you know that at this angle you’re perfectly on display for him.

he pushes himself inside of you in one fluid motion, and you gasp as his fingers squeeze your hip. matt doesn’t give you time to adjust to him like normal. instead he immediately starts to pick up speed, wrapping your hair in his free hand so you can’t look anywhere else besides in front of you.

your lips are parted as you moan, eyes fluttering at the stimulation. you can hear matt grunting behind you, a deliciously dirty sound.

“look at how pretty you are, taking me so well. all fucking mine.” he marvels, rocking your body against him even harder.

skin slaps together, and his pace is making your legs tremble. you can feel the party raging on underneath you, and it’s strangely even hotter in this setting.

“shit, you fill me up so good matt.” you tell him, catching his eyes for a second before he throws his head back.

“fuck.”

he’s hitting it so well, and you can feel yourself tightening around him with every stroke. it’s turning him into an even bigger mess.

“god, if you keep that up i’m not gonna last much longer.” he warns, bucking his hips into you at a slightly different angle.

you cry out at the new sensation, a guttural noise that you didn’t even know you could make.

“i’m so close, right there babe.”

matt listens perfectly, using the hand on your waist to guide you so that you bounce against his thighs in the same spot. you’re a whining mess, and you can’t keep looking in the mirror.

you feel the tears as your eyes screw shut. the fire in your stomach is growing, spreading throughout your whole body. he tugs your roots a little bit more.

“come all over my dick, pretty girl. it’s all yours.”

his words are what send you over the edge, and your body shudders as you feel yourself giving in to the high, releasing all over him.

“fuck, matt, stay inside.” you pant, and he groans loudly.

two more sloppy strokes and you feel him tense, filling you up as he finishes. matt lets go of your hair, dragging his fingers along your shoulders, you back. you look so fucked out, makeup smudged slightly under your eyes, and you both love it.

he pulls out slowly, giving you one last tiny pat on your ass.

you’ve both got stars in your eyes as you stand, and you can feel the wetness pool against your thighs. thank god you’re on birth control. this was a special occasion anyways.

you turn, and matt immediately pulls you in for a kiss. you smile slightly, because you can’t help it.

“come on, i need to get cleaned up.” you pull away slightly.

“fine.” he sighs, but he lets you go regardless.

you wipe yourself off with some toilet paper quickly and flush it while he redresses. you two have been missing for minute now.

you guess it doesn’t really matter. sure, you should probably be discrete about having sex around your friends. but you’re also together. officially.

“so, does this mean i can tell the other girls in your dms to fuck off?” you joke as you put your underwear back on, shimmying into your jeans next.

“you can honestly tell them whatever you want.” matt runs a hand through his hair, smiling at you like a fucking goofball.

you’re just situating your shirt into place when the door comes swinging open, revealing a very drunk nathan. you and matt freeze, completely unsure what to do.

his eyes go wide as he realizes what’s going on, mouth hanging open like he can’t believe it.

“woah. no fucking way”

#matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #fanfic #roommate au #smut

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elenalolls · 2 months

Text

I’ll Swap Mine Out With You — Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: When something happens that puts you in the hospital, you feel the need to say how you feel incase you don’t get to in the future.

Word Count: 510+

Warning/s! — Slight mention of death, black eye, lowk OOC Spencer (???).

A/N: I can’t pls

Waking up, you already knew something was off. Your thoughts were foggy, the voices were distant, and the smell. You already wanted to leave. Not to mention the sound of the insufferable beeping of the monitor filling the room you’re in.

And then it hit you, a hospital.

Slowly, you opened your eyes and glanced around. In response to your sudden movement, a hand tightened around your own, "Hey—”

You flinch, your gaze meeting a set of warm hazel eyes, “God—” your eyebrows instinctively knitted together at the man beside you. “Reid?”

He offers you a tight-lipped smile, “Sorry, how are you feeling?” He questioned, holding his stare.

“I feel… fine? What happened?”

“Encounter with the UnSub.” Spencer summarized, examining your face. “Came from behind.”

You frowned, going to move your hand to rub your eye when Spencer hurriedly stopped you from doing so. “I wouldn’t—” he paused for a second, quickly adding, “Black eye.”

“Seriously?” You groaned, dropping your head onto the rough pillow. “Where’s everybody else?”

“They left, they, uh, send their regards.”

“How thoughtful. And why haven’t you left? I thought the ‘florescent lighting’ hurt your eyes.”

He stiffens at your question, only managing a simple shrug. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Narrowing your eyes at him skeptically, your smile widens, tilting your head. “As you can see, I’m okay, but you already knew that. Are you sure that’s all?

“What—” he sputtered, “Are you trying to imply something?”

You raised one of your hands in surrender, “You hate hospitals, so yeah, I’m trying to ‘imply’ something.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.” You shrugged.

With a scoff, he rolled his eyes, “You’re my friend, and you were hurt. I was thinking about how you would feel after everything, so I stayed. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“It’ll suffice,” Your eyes trailed downwards, landing on your intertwined fingers. “A friend, huh.”

His cheeks flushed, making him purse his lips and sigh, pulling his hand away to which you laugh, “I was kidding.”

“Right.” You heard him mumble.

“Spencer.” Raising his head to look at you, you gently extended your hand towards him. Taking it in yours and interlacing your fingers together. “Thank you, really. For staying and everything.”

A smile graced his lips, nodding. “You’re welcome.”

Breaking the silence, you squeezed his hand once. “Well! Oh, that reminds me, okay, so, um, I know this is literally not the time, but I wanted to ask before I forgot or something and I know I won’t ask later on if I do remember—” Your words come to an abrupt halt when you realize you’re rambling, exhaling, you continue. “Basically, what I’m getting at, is would you like to go out to dinner? With, well, me.”

Stilling, he responds, “I— Really?”

“Really. This is me asking you on a date.” You told him, “I know it’s out of the blue and probably so inconvenient, but I feel like, I don’t know, I’m tired of having to hide how I feel and incase you haven’t noticed, I like you. And I know we’re coworkers and all, but with what happened tonight, I realized it could’ve been worse and I wouldn’t—”

“Y/N,” he interrupted, cutting off your nervous rant, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

You blinked, “Wait, so, yes to the date?”

“You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.” He finished, throwing your words back at you, earning a sigh as you leaned back.

DT(s) — @bellelovesmen, @agirlsrage ! ౨ৎ

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gay-dorito-dust · 9 months

Note

I heard you are looking for Barbie prompts👀👀

1. Ken learning to kiss (he's never done it before lol)

2. FtM reader struggling, Ken helps him realize he's just as much of a man as anyone else

3. Ken asking for advice on winning over Barbie, only to fall for reader

4. Ken revealing his struggle with toxic masculinity and his shame

God so many amazing prompts, I wish I could write them all but I don’t wanna bore anyone with how long of a fic that would be. So if anyone wants me to do the other prompts (1, 2, or 4) plz let me know.

Prompt 3: Ken asks for advice on how to win over Barbie, only to fall for reader in the process.

You cringed as another one of Ken’s failed attempts of impressing stereotypical Barbie. You had to applaud your friends’ tenacity because had it been you, you would’ve just given up in the moments where Ken had done nothing but persist in his pursuit of the beautiful blonde. You honestly didn’t a clue in whether or not it’ll do Ken any good in telling him that he would be better off in giving up, or it’ll just further persuade him into trying even harder in his efforts in a desperate form of hope that one day she’ll see him. Like actually see him.

Whatever the outcome, you knew that not matter what was being said by anyone, Ken was one to never know in when it’s okay to quit. His supposed advancements weren’t advancing anything in regards to his and Barrie’s relationship; they were still on square one in your humble opinion, as it was quite blatantly obvious that Ken needed Barbie like she was the oxygen he breaths but Barbie didn’t need Ken, she could very well breath happily without him.

Quickly seeing how you and Ken were the only ones left upon the peachy pink beach, you sighed as you made your way next to your blonde friend -who was very much in the literal sense lying face down within the sand- before sitting yourself down next to him with your knees propped up so that your arms may rest atop of them, followed softly after by your head feasting atop of your arms as you stared out beyond the horizon.

‘Well, that certainly went off without a hitch, didn’t it blondie.’ You said rhetorically whilst Ken groaned as he removed himself from the sand before practically slumping himself against your side.

‘First of all, my names Ken, not blondie, and secondly what is it that I’m doing wrong?’ Ken said, ‘I’d thought that she would totally be girlfriend/boyfriend with me by now but it seems that no matter how many times I’ve tried to make her see the man behind the tan, the more she doesn’t want me…what do I have to change about me to get her to admit that she likes me?’ He adds solemnly before looking over at you with a look of sheer desperation and hopelessness. ‘Tell me what it is that I have to change about myself in order to make Barbie see me.’ He asked of you, making you look his way as he grabbed your hands in his, almost like he was pleading to you to hear him. ‘Tell me what to change and I’ll do it, tell me what will make her see me as more Ken the boyfriend then Ken the friend.’

You stayed silent for awhile as you made the conscious choice to stare into his beautiful cerulean blue eyes that looked almost midnight blue with how they perfectly mimicked the starry sky above, or how they perfectly encapsulated the deepest depths of the very ocean he often -though not that often as he liked to claim- surfed. It was without saying that the Ken before you, your best friend Ken, was probably the most beautiful Ken you’ve ever come across, and while it’s not uncommon for friends to hype up the others beauty; there was obviously lines in the sand in regards to how far one can speak so highly of another’s appearance without it having somewhat romantic implications.

Upon realising how long you had been inside your own head, whilst externally just staring at him like a weirdo, you began to talk. ‘Here’s one thing you can stop doing and that’s going to extreme lengths to impress her.’ You told him, watching as his face slightly drop before feeling a panic consume you into continuing soliciting your advice, ‘I’m not saying you should cut it out all together but maybe tone it down a little, nobody here wants you to end up badly hurt yourself one day. Besides I think it’d be best if you just let her see the so called ‘man behind the tan.’ You added on as you pulled one hand of yours away from Ken’s hold in order to press it against his chest; more specifically where his heart lies. ‘Show Barbie the Ken that I know and love, the Ken who isn’t above helping others, the Ken who loves horses despite never having ridden one, the Ken who loves the beach, the Ken who loves his friends and will go above and beyond for them.’

You paused before trailing your hand upward so that it was now resting behind his neck, your thumb running across his skin in soothing patterns as you smiled at him, causing Ken to take a sharp inhale of breath. ‘You don’t have to change Ken, I don’t want my best friend to change for someone who won’t realise how lucky she is to have you in her life Ken.’ You utter softly before adding, ‘because I am and I prefer you the way you are right now, but I’m not the one your perusing and therefore I have no say in who you change for, just hope that you never do.’ You hauled yourself onto your feet before making your way off of the beach and back to your home, leaving Ken to stare after you in wonder and in awe.

‘Have I? Have I been going after the wrong person?’ Ken asked himself as thoughts of Barbie quickly became thoughts of you instead and the feeling that usually blossoms within him for Barbie, seemed to have only blossomed more then ever in regards of when it came to you. Naturally Ken was conflicted about the sudden change, wasn’t he suppose to be with Barbie? Then why did the notion of being your boyfriend felt more natural, more likeable then being Barbie’s boyfriend? He couldn’t understand how after perusing Barbie for as long as he has, his heart and mind have seemingly made peace with the fact that she wasn’t even at all interested in him, just as they were immediate in their change of trajectory and instead decided to set their sights on you after this particular night on the beach, and engaging within a conversation that relied on him to being open and honest about his feelings.

Ken just couldn’t understand why he felt so breathless when you smiled at him not too long ago, it felt as though you knocked the wind clear out of his lungs and he was still struggling on getting it back the more his mind stayed stuck on that particular moment. Ken was afraid to admit that he had fallen for someone new, but a small part of him was telling him that he had fallen for you way before the events that lead up to tonight’s conversation, telling him that it was no longer Barbie he was trying to impress but you.

#barbie #barbie imagine #barbie imagines #ken x you #ken x y/n #ken x reader #ken fic #ken fluff #Ken imagines #Ken imagine

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mrsensitive · 1 year

Text

4 times everyone else caught on before the 1 time you and quinn finally did

a good old 4+1 ft. best friend beau & a couple other cameos, some mutual pining and also reader is a costume designer . kind of an elaboration of a lil blurb i wrote a while ago so if it seems familiar no it doesn't 😋

You’d never been more grateful for Friday to roll around. You’d had what felt like the longest week from hell and just wanted to take your mind off everything, so when your new neighbour turned best friend Beau texted you to meet him and a couple friends at the bar, the thought that you wouldn’t know half the people there wasn’t enough to dissuade you from joining.

When you arrive, you’re quick to spot the group - Beau hadn’t lied when he said it wasn’t just the team, but he might’ve stretched the truth when he said you already knew some of the guys. A quick once over is enough for you to realise the only other person you really know is Brock. Sure, you had heard of the others from Beau’s stories and the fact that you sometimes watched the games, but you were starting to wonder if you should’ve just gone home to your bottle of wine instead.

Beau is quick to welcome you though, flooding you with the names of everyone you’d yet to meet and pushing you into the seat he’d just vacated.

“Wait here, I’m getting the next round,” he beams at you, a good few drinks in already. “Brock come give me a hand, bud.”

You try to get your bearings a little, looking around trying to commit names to faces since the only two people you knew had left, and you realise mostly everyone is in their own conversations save for the guy on your right. You pause, staring at him trying to remember his name as he watches you struggle, clearly bemused.

“It’s Quinn,” he offers after a moment or two. He’s laughing lightly and you relax in your seat a little. “Don’t sweat it.”

You breathe out a smile, “Thanks. I was getting there, y’know.” You pause, taking a moment to get a better look at him. “Hughes, right? I’ve seen you play before. You’re a great skater.”

“Oh uh…thanks.” He shifts a little in his seat. “Beau’s talked about you a couple times actually. So it’s nice to meet you finally.”

You can’t help your eyebrows from shooting up, both of you are equally surprised and amused that you’re even aware of the other. You’re half expecting Quinn to elaborate, scanning his face for any hint that what Beau’s said about you was any level of incriminating, but somehow, you find yourself a bit distracted by the way his hair is curling over his forehead.

Before either of you can say anything, Beau’s dropped a glass in front of you and inserted himself back in the conversation.

“So what was so terrible about work this week? What’s the drama this time?”

You let out a sigh, remembering why you’d dragged yourself here in the first place. “Oh, nothing new. They just decided to reschedule all our fittings so we barely had the right costumes prepared - which is just an embarrassing look for me, you know, even if it literally wasn’t my fault. I was running all over the place trying to make it work - and then on top of that I find out they’ve put our costume truck about three states over from where the set is so I’ve got to hassle someone about that and-”

“Costumes?” Your rambling is cut off by Quinn who looks much more interested than Beau, who, to his credit, has heard some variation of this story just about every other week.

“Oh, yeah. I’m a costume designer,” you explain, “I’m working on a movie at the moment.” For some reason you feel rather embarrassed that you didn’t clarify this to him before and you’re hoping the dim lighting is hiding the way you’ve started blushing.

“I’m going to take this as my cue to leave.” Beau says, already standing up to move across the table, “You tell Quinn the whole back story and I’ll come back when you’re done with that, okay?”

Beau, in fact, does not come back for the rest of the night but you’re so wrapped up in your conversation with Quinn that you don’t particularly notice anyway. Usually you hate talking about yourself, but the drinks have loosened you up and he seems so genuinely curious and intrigued about you. He asks how you met Beau, so you tell him the story of how his 7’s look a little too much like 1’s and you ended up getting so much of his mail that you had to go and confront him about it. You try to ask him about hockey but he seems rather adept at deflecting the conversation back to you every time. You can’t help but bask in the full attention he’s giving you and the more drinks you have, the more you find yourself quietly admiring his bone structure. You’re a little surprised to hear yourself laughing so much and how easily the conversation moves that you can’t quite remember how you ended up discussing how you both think roses are overrated.

You’re so caught up in each other that neither of you catch Brock nudging Beau and nodding his head towards you across the table.

“You reckon?” Brock asks, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

“Oh, easily. I’ve been watching them all night.”

You pick up Beau’s call almost immediately.

“Hey, what’s up? Do you need something?” There’s a tinge of confusion in your voice.

“What? No, I just- I have an extra ticket to the game tonight and I was going to offer it to you if you weren’t being so snappy.” Beau teases.

“Oh,” you let out a chuckle, “Sorry, you just never call. I do happen to be free tonight though, if the offer’s still on the table...”

“Great, I’ll send you the ticket,” you can hear him smiling through the line. “Don’t drive, I’ll give you a lift if you wait a little after the game. Stick around and say hi to some of the other guys too.”

“Sure,” you reply, “I’ll see you later then. Maybe score or win or something? I dunno, make it worth my night?”

“Yeah ok,” you can hear him laughing now, “Will do, just for you. See you soon.”

And even if you were only joking, the team does deliver on your request. You hang by the exit as you wait for Beau, congratulating some of the other guys on the win as they start to trickle out. When Quinn catches sight of you, he can’t help the way the corners of his mouth quirk upwards and you can’t help the way you mirror it.

“Hey Quinner, congrats on the game,” you greet him, “Big win!”

You’re mildly aware of the way your heart rate has picked up slightly since he stopped in front of you. You want to believe that it’s just because the handful of times you’ve seen him now have always been aided with a bit of liquid courage, even if you’re currently fixating on his slightly damp hair and the way his bag is slung over his shoulder. Quinn, however, is severely aware of the way his heart rate seemed to stop upon hearing the nickname leave your mouth.

He clears his throat, “Yeah, thanks. I didn’t realise you were going to be here?”

“Beau said he had an extra ticket last minute - enticed me with a ride home, so I’m just waiting for him now.”

“Yeah, he should be done with the interviews soon - you know, three point night and all,” he laughs, glancing back at the doorway in search of a sign of his teammate.

“Coming from you, mister record breaker!”

Quinn whips his head back around to you, eyes wide as he starts to mumble something to try and downplay his night. He knows he’s blushing from the way he can feel his cheeks burning but he’s hoping it could be disguised as some sort of postgame flush.

You can’t help but let out a laugh at how off guard your comment seemed to catch him. “Surely you’re going out to celebrate?”

“Oh, I don’t know… we’ve got an early start tomorrow…” He rubs a hand at the back of his neck and your eyes flicker to his bicep briefly.

“Hmmm boring,” you tease, “All work and no play I guess.”

Something in your tone has him grinning now. “No rest for the wicked,” he quips.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, you’ve had an audience for just about all of your conversation.

“Is this what he looks like when he’s trying to flirt?” Petey asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I guess. Or trying to, at least,” Brock answers, still eyeing the scene in front of him. “How long do we think til they do something about it?”

Beau’s appeared next to them at the door now too, smirking as he watches you and Quinn completely oblivious to everyone else.

“Wanna take bets?”

Quinn’s nervous. He’s already texted you to let you know he’s arrived but he’s expecting that you’ll have to turn him away last minute. He’s still in disbelief that he’s even here, despite the fact that you’d offered to have him visit you on set several times already, but he always thought it was just a throw away thing you would say to be nice. He only tells you this about the fourth time you’ve asked, the arrival of the post season working out with one of the quieter days of your schedule, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing in his face about it.

“Quinn. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t mean it. Most of our conversations are about movies, so I just thought you might find it cool to see what it’s like,” you shrug. "I've watched you play games before so it feels kind of fair, right?’

As much as he protests that it’s different, you are kind of right, naturally. He thinks it is extremely cool that this is what you do for a living, and even cooler that you’d even considered to bring him along and show him a part of it. At least, cool is what he’s trying to convince himself he’s feeling about it all.

When he sees how excited you look, running out to meet him, he once again can’t help the grin that weasels its way onto his face. He holds out the second coffee cup in his hand to you.

“Hey,” he greets, “I brought you a coffee. I stopped on my way here but I didn’t really know what you usually get or if you prefer, like, hot or iced? So I just got you what I get which is-”

You’re pleasantly surprised and amused, letting him ramble a little before you cut him off, thanking him and groaning when you take a sip. “God, thank you. I’ve already had one today but I truly needed this.”

He’s relieved to hear it, immediately relaxing. “Hectic day then?”

“Kind of, but like… A controlled hectic you know?” You pause, giving him a once over, realising he’s a little less jittery than a minute ago - and also that he looks good. You’ve only ever really seen him in very weak bar lighting, or after a hockey game - but definitely never before lunch. The sun looks good on him you think, and you’re rather charmed by the outfit he’s picked out for the occasion but you’re quick to snap yourself out of your thoughts.

“Let me show you around!”

You give him a tour of the set, proudly pointing out how you managed to convince them to move your trailer closer, talking him through your designs you have pinned up and showing him some of the final costumes.

Quinn’s already wide-eyed, kid in a candy store at all of this, staring and asking if he can touch things. He almost doesn’t believe you when you say he can watch them film a scene or two. He’s amazed by the whole set up of it all, the cameras, the monitors, all the people who seem to be constantly walking places very quickly with a lot of purpose. You lead him to your little costume camp in the corner, letting out a chuckle at how impressed he is.

“Okay, look so I do kind of have to do my job and leave you alone here, but just stay where I tell you to, don’t get in the way and you’ll be fine.” You’ve barely finished your sentence when someone calls your name, so you’re pushing Quinn into an empty chair, wincing a smile at him and scurrying away.

You don’t really get a chance to check back in on him for a good hour or two, but Quinn’s barely noticed the amount of time that’s gone by. He’s shocked at the fact that he’s so close to actors who he actually recognises, but he’s even more in awe simply watching you in your element. He knew you’d downplayed your role to him but even so, he’s mesmerised at the way you’re handling everyone’s questions, how you’re there in between takes to fix collars and ties and things he hadn’t even noticed, at how almost out of nowhere, you suddenly seem to have this commanding yet gracious air of authority around you. He’s never seen or even pictured you like this but he’s completely caught up in it, not realising that one of the makeup artists has been watching his laser focus on you this whole time and sidled up to him.

He doesn’t quite hear her at first.

“I was just asking if you were the boyfriend?”

Quinn’s immediately blushing furiously and he’s only glad that you aren’t there to see it. “No- no, um. Just, uhh, just a friend is all.”

His response appropriately earns a raised eyebrow.

“Ahhh, okay. Gotcha. Sorry, was just asking,” she pauses, entertained by his spluttering, “She’s rather amazing, you know? Really great at her job and just incredible in general.”

“Yeah, I, uh- I know,” he answers, glancing at you briefly. There’s something in this stranger’s tone that has him slightly confused, wondering why he’s being told this.

She only hums in response before walking away, leaving him to try not to overthink the interaction. He quickly pushes it aside when he sees you making your way over.

“Hey,” you grin, coming to a stop in front of him, “Been having fun?”

“Oh yeah,” he perks up immediately, “Heaps.”

“Great, because we’re starting to wrap up. I’ll take you back out to the entrance, save you all the boring stuff, y’know?”

Quinn’s surprised that it’s already heading into the late afternoon when you exit the studio. He turns to look at you, shoving his hands into his pockets and mustering up as much sincerity as he can.

“Thanks again for having me. It was, um, it was really cool watching you do your thing.”

“Well thanks for finally taking me up on my offer,” you counter, “and thanks for the coffee. I’m glad you had fun, really." You pause, cocking your head slightly, “We’ll go watch the movie together when it’s out.”

This, Quinn is sure, is a throw away line, at least he thinks. You’re not completely sure if you meant it either, but you know you only said it because you knew he would take it as one.

A couple days later you get a text out of the blue from Beau, and then Brock.

Beau: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU TOOK QUINN ON SET???? I’VE KNOWN YOU FOR HOW LONG AND YOU’VE NEVER ASKED ME?!!?!?!

Brock: I like movies too :))

For whatever reason, Beau’s apartment had become the designated gathering spot. You’d already found yourself there a couple times already with the rest of the group, so you didn’t really question it when he ropes you into the games night he’s hosting, claiming they need another person to even out the numbers. It doesn’t occur to you to ask why he couldn’t have asked literally any of the other guys instead, so you don’t realise he has a whole catalogue of excuses ready to cover the fact that he’d been orchestrating a reason to get you and Quinn in the same room again.

If anyone were to ask Quinn why he was late, he also had his own list of excuses ready to rattle off before he’d admit the truth. He’d spent an embarrassingly long amount of time switching between three shirts knowing that he’d see you - and so what if you’d done the same, as long as nobody else knew?

Currently, you’re all way too many drinks in, lining up along the couch in preparation for the final tie breaking round of charades. Beau’s couch is definitely not big enough to fit six of you but you all squish in anyway, mostly too drunk or too determined to win to care. You should have expected this level of competition from a group of professional athletes; you've done a good job of keeping up all night, but you’re suddenly very acutely aware of how close Quinn is sitting next to you. You take another hard swallow from your drink before turning your focus onto Beau flailing his arms in front of you.

You manage to keep your cool through several rounds, but eventually you realise Quinn’s thigh has, at some point, ended up pressed firmly against yours. Immediately your whole leg is tingling and your face is flaming up, but Quinn doesn’t seem to show any signs of pulling away, or simply even realising. You blink, trying to refocus, but the only thing your brain seems capable of processing at the moment is the feeling of Quinn’s leg against yours through your jeans. If it weren’t for Beau’s overly dramatic reaction, you probably wouldn’t even have noticed that your team had already lost.

You move to lean back against the couch - which was a mistake, considering now your shoulders are brushing too, and someone might as well have set your entire body on fire. Your head is starting to spin - must just be the shots catching up, you try to convince yourself - and you’ve drawn your lips into a thin line in an effort not to combust.

Brock lets out a laugh, clocking your expression. “Alright, no need to be such a sore loser, princess.”

You can feel Quinn turning to look at you, even if you’re desperately avoiding his eye contact. Beau is looking at you now too, eyes flickering over the way you and Quinn are pressed into each other’s sides. He grins, gears already turning in his head.

You hope your laugh sounds convincing. “Yeah, didn’t realise I’d get so into it, huh?”

“We’ll just have to have a rematch another time,” Beau reassures you, well aware losing wasn’t the reason why you looked so distressed. He fakes a look at the clock as you stand up from the couch, having decided you wouldn’t have survived much longer if you didn’t move.

“Well I guess it’s getting a bit late. I think we’re all pretty far gone at this point so everyone’s welcome to crash for the night if you want," Beau offers.

“Dude,” Quinn pipes up, “There’s no way you have enough space for all of us.”

“Well, lucky a certain someone just so happens to live not so far away!” Beau is already shepherding the two of you out of his apartment, still wearing the biggest grin on his face.

Before you can even begin to protest, you’ve already found yourself standing next to Quinn in the hallway. A beat passes, the two of you staring at the shut door incredulously before you finally catch Quinn’s eye, both unable to help the fit of giggles that escapes when you catch each other’s expressions.

In hindsight, you think this is the exact moment where you lose the ability to deny to yourself that you see him as just one of Beau’s friends. His eyes are a little glazed over from the alcohol, and his lips are flushed the prettiest pink to match his cheeks which are pulled into the widest smile you’ve seen him wear to date, and for the first time you notice exactly just how full his eyelashes are.

“I guess I do have a free couch,” you breathe out once you’ve both calmed down.

“No it’s fine really, I can just get an uber home, don’t worry about it,” Quinn argues, the slight awkwardness of the situation finally hitting him.

“Quinn, don’t be ridiculous. Your car’s still here, isn’t it? I literally live down the hallway,” you pause, “... like Beau said.”

He swallows, blinking at you for a good while. “Yeah, okay. If you’re sure then.”

He waits for you to tell him that you’ve changed your mind, that actually the boyfriend you’ve never mentioned before wouldn’t like it if he stayed, or anything along those lines - something that would make the whole thing feel a little more believable, but instead, he just finds you looking at him. He doesn’t think he can handle that much longer without buckling at the knees, the way your eyes are searching his face, so he turns and starts walking down the hallway. He goes to ask what number your apartment is when he suddenly feels your soft hand slip into his.

You don’t know what it is. Maybe how nervous he suddenly seemed, maybe the way his hair looked perfectly dishevelled, or maybe in your intoxicated state you’d just finally decided to throw caution to the wind.

“I’m back this way, idiot,” you laugh at him before tugging him down the other way to your door.

Quinn is sure that his heart is thumping so loudly that you can hear it echoing through the silent hallway, or that you can somehow feel it where your fingers are laced through his but you’re being nice and saving him the embarrassment by not saying anything about it. He’s also hyper aware of how you didn’t drop his hand until you were both inside, even when you were rummaging in your pockets for your keys.

He glances around your apartment, following suit as he watches you kick off your sneakers. He’s overtly aware of the quietness compared to the chaos of just earlier, and the overwhelming sense of domesticity as he trails behind you into your home.

You watch him as he looks around, trying to find something to do in order to not get distracted staring at his nose. “Want some water?”

“Yeah actually, thanks,” he feels like he’s whispering, like if he speaks any louder you might realise that he is, actually, in fact, standing in your apartment and decide to kick him out.

He watches you reach on your toes to grab an extra glass from the cabinet and he finds himself endeared by it all - the way your shoes were lined up in the hallway, the sweater left draped over the couch, the lone mug left on your kitchen counter by your coffee machine.

He gestures at what he’s guessing is an open script left on the table next to an array of pens. “New project?”

“Yeah, I’m almost done reading through it,” you answer, “I won't be working on it for several months still, but I haven’t completely decided yet.”

“Is it shooting here as well?”

“Only bits of it. Looks like it’ll be mostly in LA though. And a couple other locations but it’ll be fun,” you shrug, handing him the glass.

“So you’re gonna do it?”

“Yeah, I think so. Script’s pretty good so far, and it’s an exciting team. Kind of like why not, you know?”

Quinn only manages to mutter out some sort of agreement. He’s surprised by his own disappointment at the idea that you could be moving out to LA, when in the grand scheme of things he’s only known you for about half a year. Thankfully, you interrupt him before he can think about it much more.

“Anyway, I’ll go get some blankets for you. Bathroom��s down that way, there’s extra toothbrushes in the first drawer.”

When he’s back, he almost crumples at the sight of you in your pjs setting up the couch for him. He notices you’ve refilled his glass before you turn around and shove a pile of clothes into his hands.

“Sweats for you, they should fit, I think,” you crinkle your nose. “My room’s down that way, just let me know if you need anything.”

He only manages to get out a small thanks in response. He’s staring at you, he knows that, but he can’t help how soft you look in the dim lighting.

You tilt your head, giving him a small smile. “Night, Quinn.”

“Yeah, goodnight,” he mumbles.

He makes a mental note to both punch Beau and then thank him in the morning.

+ 1

Nothing ever happened after that seemingly eventful night. It’s now well into the next season and you’re thinking that this is just what the dynamic of yours and Quinn’s friendship is like. You’ve gone back to trying to convince yourself that it’s normal - like you also think Beau’s good looking, right? You had a bit of a crush on him too when you first met him, even if that came and went awfully swiftly and you don’t get anything even close to the same kind of head spinning giddiness when he talks to you. Quinn thinks he’s been less subtle about it all, and you think you’ve been dropping hints but apparently your efforts have only been evident to everyone else but each other.

You know that the team has a gala coming up soon. Beau’s mentioned it to you a couple times in his attempt to gauge how you would feel if he forced Quinn to take you as his date. When he tells Quinn his master plan to finally get the two of you together, Quinn almost chokes on his own spit.

“Ask her as my date?! You’re kidding right?” he practically screeches.

“No.”

Quinn stammers, trying to formulate some kind of reply. “I don’t- We’re not- … I’m not doing that.”

Beau groans. “You guys are both such idiots, I’m sick of it. It’s so obvious that you like her and I don’t know how you can’t see that she’s head over heels for you too!”

Quinn only stares at him in response.

“Why won’t you just ask her? The world isn’t going to implode.”

There’s a good minute of silence, the two of them staring at each other waiting for someone to break. Quinn finally sighs, taking a seat on the couch.

“Isn’t she leaving for LA soon?”

“Are you being serious right now? Please tell me you’re not actually this stupid.”

Quinn blinks. “I don’t know. Vancouver and LA are pretty far apart.”

Beau is just about ready to physically knock some sense into him.

“You’re not even in Vancouver half the time anyway. Plus she’s not moving away forever. Don’t be such a drama queen.”

When Quinn doesn’t say anything in response, Beau doubles down.

“If you don’t ask her, I will for you. I’m not lying but you can test that out if you’d like.”

Beau doesn’t believe that Quinn will do anything, but he doesn’t give him much time to prove him wrong anyway. He’s calling you that evening.

“What are you doing Saturday night in two weeks time?”

“What? Nothing, I don’t think.”

“Okay, great. You’re coming to the gala as Quinn’s date then.”

“I’m what?!”

“You heard me.”

There’s a pause.

“Are you home right now?”

“Ye-”

You hang up on him before he can finish the syllable and you’re storming down the hallway until you’re banging on his door. He looks rather calm when he lets you in, but you don’t miss the mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You point an accusing finger at him. “Explain it to me again. You want me to do what now?”

Beau rolls his eyes. “You’re free. Quinn’s free. Why not? It’s painfully obvious that you have this massive crush on him.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “No I don’t. And you’re asking me instead of him because?”

“Because he’s being an idiot, like he has been for almost an entire year now.” Beau looks at you and he can tell you could be convinced. “Just say yes. I’ll be there, the other guys will be there, there’ll be free food and drinks. Plus you’ll get to dress up! You’re always telling me you want to have an excuse to dress up yourself instead of other people!”

You can’t deny his last point. Literally just the other week, you’d sent him a link of this drop dead gorgeous dress you’d found whilst sourcing for your next project and complained to him about how you wanted to get it for yourself but had nowhere to wear it to.

You narrow your eyes at him. “What’s the catch?”

“There is no catch. Just say you’ll come as his date. That’s it.”

You pause. Beau finds himself in his second stalemate of the day, but he knows you’re going to give in more easily. He listens to the tick of the clock in his living room, patiently waiting for you to cave.

“Fine.”

You don’t give him a chance to properly react before you’ve flung open his door, marched back to your own apartment and screamed into your pillow about what you’ve said yes to.

Beau should’ve known you were going to be insufferable leading up to the actual night. You spend the entirety of the next week pestering him about what the dress code is, how you have nothing to wear, what to expect, who else is going to be there. He gives you the same answers every time you ask and he promises to go dress shopping with you on Thursday. You’re only the slightest bit more relieved at this, but as soon as you agree, Beau’s texting Quinn that he has about a week to deliver.

Quinn had called you as soon as he saw Beau’s message, apologising and saying that he wished Beau had given him a little more warning so he could have asked you himself (he knows he wouldn’t have) and telling you that you don’t have to go if you didn’t want to. You were barely done freaking out about it yourself, but the way he sounded so completely flustered about it all through the phone was somewhat reassuring.

When you make your way up the stairs to your apartment on Wednesday evening, you find yourself actually excited to go pick out a dress the next day. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t pulled together some inspiration images, but in your defence, you were just good at your job. Your steps falter a little when you notice a package at your door, but as you get closer, you notice there’s a post-it note over it.

Been a minute since our mail got confused again :)

– Beau

You’re confused because you don’t remember ordering anything, but it’s definitely been addressed to you. You head inside to open it, brows furrowing when you start to recognise the fabric. Needless to say, your jaw is definitely on the floor when you pull out the same dress that you had sent Beau not too long ago. You’re scrambling to grab your phone to yell at him when you remember they’re currently playing a game at the moment, so you settle for a borderline blasphemous string of texts instead.

Hours later, when you’re still reeling, you get one single message in response.

Beau: Wasn’t me. Was all huggy :)

It feels like the last days left until the gala had gone all too quick yet also taken way too long. You felt like you’d been pulling your hair out about it nonstop, and it didn’t help that the guys had gone away on a roadie in between.

You’d started getting ready way too early. You couldn’t do up the clasp of your necklace since you weren’t used to having your nails done, leaving you too much time to start wondering if you’d maybe gone a little overboard with it all. You’d been pacing around your apartment for the past half hour trying to occupy your hands with something else instead, waiting for a more appropriate time to get changed. You think you must look like a deranged housewife, washing your dishes and folding your laundry with a full face of makeup and maybe too much diligence.

You’re so caught up in distracting yourself that the buzzer ringing makes you jump.

“Hey, come on up. I’ll unlock the door, I’ve just got to get changed,” you say over the intercom.

You run back to your room to pull on the dress you’d been fawning over for weeks, still not entirely sure how either Quinn or Beau had managed to work out the right size for you. You hear the door being opened and Quinn calling out your name just as you’re spraying your perfume.

“In my room!” You yell back, “One sec!”

When he rounds the corner and lays eyes on you, Quinn’s certain he’s turned completely into putty. He’s never seen you so dressed up and you look so breathtakingly stunning that he almost drops the bouquet in his hands.

You’re equally breathless when you turn around to face him. You didn’t realise that he’d gotten a tie to match, and you wouldn’t know that he’d dragged Petey to help him pick a new suit in an attempt to impress you. You’re both staring at each other for what feels like forever before either of you can manage a word.

“Um, hi,” he breathes, barely audible, “You look- you look really beautiful.”

You can’t hide the blush that’s creeping up your neck, but you don’t try to anyway considering his cheeks have gone a rosy shade to match.

“Thanks, Quinn. You look really good too.” You don’t notice how he flushes even deeper because you’ve finally noticed the flowers he’s holding, and even more so, how there’s not a single rose in the bunch. “Are those…?”

Quinn suddenly feels embarrassed about the fact he got you flowers. “Yeah, I um, I got- they’re for you.” He feels like a school boy all over again, mentally kicking himself for not being able to get a proper sentence out. He looks down at the stems, rubbing at his stubble. “Did I overdo it?”

You laugh, you’d been fidgeting with your nails the entire time.

“No, I think it’s really sweet.” You take the flowers from him, laying them down on your vanity when you remember your necklace.

“Oh, can you help me with this? I can’t seem to get the clasp.” You hand him the chain and turn, moving your hair out of the way.

You can smell the waft of his cologne and feel his focus on the back of your neck, suddenly incredibly aware of how close you’re standing. Your mouth has dried, you're pretty sure your ears are ringing and you think you’re fully frozen in your spot.

“There,” Quinn mumbles, barely even able to get the word past the lump in his throat. He’s still thinking about how unreal you look and fighting the overwhelming urge to spin you around and kiss you right then and there.

You’re both snapped out of the moment when his phone starts ringing. It’s Beau, asking what time you guys are going to arrive.

“Yeah, we’re just about to leave. See you soon, dude.” Quinn answers, turning his attention back to you. “Ready to go?”

On the way there, you’ve somehow recomposed yourself to manage a somewhat normal conversation. You’re not sure exactly what it is that sent your nerves into haywire in the first place. The fact that you’re so done up, that you’re technically his date, or the fact that he seems just as antsy as you. He tells you he’s a little nervous about the speech he has to make, so you squeeze his hand in reassurance and try to reel your nerves in for both of you.

It’s a lot easier when you get there and see everyone else. You’re reminded that they’re your friends and that this is just another time you get to hang out, even if it’s a lot more fancy and official than what you’re used to. But when you finally go to take your seats after doing your initial rounds of mingling, you still manage to somehow knock your fork to the floor. You bend over to pick it up and you don’t realise Quinn’s covered the edge of the table with his hand until you bump your head into it. Before you can even say anything or just thank him for it, he’s offering to swap forks with you.

“Oh, don’t even worry about it,” you laugh a little breathlessly, “Five second rule, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” he replies, but he’s already replaced the fork next to your plate with his anyway.

Brock and Petey have watched the whole exchange and share knowing smirks from across the table.

Everything else seems to go smoothly. Maybe it’s the soft touches on his arm or on your back, the blushing smiles and longing glances across the room, but something about tonight feels like tomorrow you won’t be able to pretend nothing happened.

Quinn’s speech goes well, and now everyone is up and moving around again. You hang back and let the long line of teammates and attendees go to congratulate him first.

Beau approaches Quinn, interrupting his train of thought.

“Now that the business part is done, you gonna finally make a move or what?”

Quinn’s eyes almost pop out of his head at the idea of this and also the volume at which Beau is speaking.

“Shut up,” he hisses, “She’ll hear you!”

“Doesn’t matter - she’s going to notice anyway with how hard you’ve been staring all night!”

“No I haven’t,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah ok, sure buddy. Just- no time like the present!” Beau claps him on the back and leaves Quinn to shift his gaze back to you. He’s starting to get lost in how at ease you look, talking to some of the other wives, when he realises Beau is right and you’ve caught him staring.

You make your way to him, prodding him gently in the shoulder.

“Told ya you didn’t need to be so worried.”

He’s blushing again. He can’t seem to get a handle on the effect you have on him.

“Yeah, it went alright, I guess. Made it out alive.”

“Well I, for one, think you spoke really well.” There’s a slight teasing in your voice, but you hope he can tell you mean it.

Quinn finds himself lost for words in front of you for what feels like the hundredth time that night. He’s scanning your face and tries not to think too hard before he opens his mouth again.

“Can I kiss y-”

“Please.”

His hands are quick to find your waist and pull you closer as your hands find a place against his chest. The kiss is quick and rushed and almost all teeth from how big you’re both smiling, but you don’t mind it. You feel like the ground’s been pulled out from under you in one fell swoop and you’re free falling but somehow it feels like exactly what you needed.

When you pull away, Quinn’s wearing the goofiest lopsided grin you’ve ever seen and you can only imagine that you look the same.

“I, uh-”

“You’ve got lip gloss on you.”

You’re both giggling as he swipes over his lips with his thumb.

You’re so lost in him that you almost don’t register all the hollering and clapping from your table. Usually you would hate the idea of so many eyes watching you, but it all feels like such a long time coming that you can’t seem to be even remotely embarrassed about any of it.

#a result of the freak behaviour quinn has been displaying as of late... like sorry i am just a Girl #actually he did all that and then i turned around and wrote over 6.5k about him so . whats more freakish im not sure anymore #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #📝

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lowkeychenle · 10 months

Text

모래성 [LMH] (M)

Description: You and Mark have had a friends with benefits relationship for almost a year now. He's in love with you, addicted to you, but you don't feel the same. You're his poison.

Genre: Smut

(This new song is SO good I had to write this literally immediately it has been on my mind all day)

Content Warnings: Explicit unprotected sex (Don't Do This LOL), rough Mark, kind of uncaring Mark?, bad bitch mark what else can I say

Word Count: 1,327

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Juliet's Masterlist

When you and Mark first agreed to your arrangement, neither of you expected it to come this far. He certainly didn’t expect for you to stay with him, not that he was complaining. After almost a year of it, the only thing that changed for him was his feelings.

He’s in love with you, and even though you don’t feel the same way, it sure as hell seems like you do sometimes.

Like the way you’re lying in his bed right now, clothed only with his comforter. Your head rests on his shoulder as you trace shapes on his arm. Friends with benefits isn’t ever supposed to go past the friend stage, but for Mark, he had always known it was only a matter of time.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, staring at you. With his back against his headboard, all sorts of things swirl through his mind when you look up at him.

“Do you ever…” You pause, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I just feel like I could do this for a long time.”

His heart stutters in his chest. The moon is the only thing lighting you up, shining against your skin in a way that has him craving you all over again.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on.” You nudge him. “Don’t make me say it. You’re saying you don’t want to stay in this bed with me forever?”

But it’s different this time. He dreams about you. Craves you. Loves you. Even then, he can’t do it anymore. Your embrace no longer provides him comfort. If anything, it spreads poison deep into his heart, where it pulses and spreads throughout his body with every beat. You’re killing him slowly. Destroying him and breaking him apart with no remorse.

“Mark?” You sit up, tilting your head. “Are you alright?”

He nods. “Yeah, I’m good.”

He knows he shouldn’t. That he needs to put a stop to this before anything else happens. No matter how much you hurt him—knowingly—he could never do the same to you. He’s addicted to you in the worst ways. Every time he gets his hopes up in those tiny moments of dreaming that you love him too, he falls and crashes harder into the ground than the last time.

At that moment, he decides it’ll only be one more time. He’ll have you one more time, and then he has to be done.

The thought of leaving you tears him to pieces, but he has to stop letting you walk all over him. He needs love—real love, the kind that lasts longer than the duration of time you’re in his bed.

“I can’t fucking breathe around you,” he groans out, tangling his fingers in your hair and tugging you closer to him.

His lips find yours, mouths, teeth, and tongues clashing messily. You’re taken by surprise, but find your body molding into his anyway.

He wastes no time in sliding his fingers inside you, finding you wet and ready for him. Pumping his hand, he swallows your moans, letting out a few of his own at the way you feel around him.

Fucking addicting. Dangerous. Terrifying.

You wonder what’s gotten into him, but you don’t question it. His thumb presses against your clit, sending a jolt through your body. You cling onto his shoulders for dear life, not used to this side of Mark. He wasn’t necessarily gentle by any means, but he’d never been so blatantly rough with you before.

“Mark,” you whimper, grinding down on his hand.

“What?” he hisses, speeding up.

You reach down and find him hard and aching, ready to be buried inside you. His pace stutters a bit as you jerk him off slowly.

“Fuck me,” you demand, resting your forehead on his. “Give it to me.”

But you both know he’s already given you everything he could.

“God, all you fucking do is take.” He pulls his fingers out of you, finding his place between your legs and lining up with your entrance.

When he slams inside of you, you dig your nails into him and scream, the stretch taking a moment to adjust to.

“You’re so good at taking things from me,” he mutters, nipping down your neck. “So good at taking my cock.”

Your entire body flutters at his words and you arch into him, pulling him back down to your lips. The heat between you two is undeniable, the sweat already dampening his skin. You can barely catch your breath with how fast he’s thrusting inside you. Lifting your hips, you try your best to aid him, but your body can’t keep up with his.

“Who makes you feel like this?” he growls lowly, slamming into you. “Who fucks you ‘til you drool?”

“Mark,” you call out his name, scratching down his back.

As soon as his finger comes in contact with your clit, you shatter around him, not holding back any of your sounds as you spasm below him. He curses loudly, the lewd sounds of his skin slapping yours making you dizzy.

You wrap your legs around his waist. The new angle has your head spinning, and he’s able to get a little deeper than before. Everything about him is intoxicating, down to the way he fucks you through your orgasm.

His voice cracks when he moans and spills deep inside you, dropping his head on your neck. He only gives himself a moment there, one last second to breathe you in and remember what it feels like to be inside you.

He won’t do it again. He can’t.

“Holy shit, Mark.” You run your fingers through his hair, chuckling. “Where the hell did that come from?”

The last thing he wants to do is separate himself from you. He’s in love with you. He’d stay buried inside you all day if only you loved him, too.

He curses, pulling out of you and getting up from the bed to grab some clothes.

“Mark?” You frown, but he doesn’t look at you.

He knows if he gives you a chance to convince him, he’ll fall back into your trap. If he looks at you, he’ll remember he’s in love with you. It costs too much to keep you around—physically and emotionally fucking taxing.

“I’m gonna shower.” He stops in the door frame of the bathroom, clenching his jaw to stop it from quivering. “You shouldn’t be here when I get out.”

“What the hell?” You recoil in surprise, throwing the sheets off of you and standing up. Grabbing his T-shirt from the ground, you slide it over your head and approach him.

“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. Keep the shirt as a parting gift.”

He hears you yelling at him through the door, but he masks the sound with the stream of water. Stepping under it, he’s determined to wash the last traces of you from him. He scrubs and scrubs and scrubs, but it’s no use.

You’ll forever be ingrained in him, no matter how hard he tries to get rid of you.

By the time he gets out of the shower, all traces of you are gone. You even made his bed, for fuck’s sake. He runs his fingers through his damp hair, sitting on the edge of the mattress and contemplating what the hell he’ll do next.

You’re poison. Everything about you is deadly, and he’s better off without you.

His heart pounds in his chest at the thought. He knows he is. That’s absolutely the truth, yet the tiny voice in the back of his mind tells him he’s making a huge mistake. That he’ll never find someone like you again.

Good, he thinks to himself. I don’t want anyone else like her.

And for a while, he does well. But just like every other time before this one, he’s too weak to escape you.

He calls you before the fucking week is through.

#mark lee #nct #nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #mark lee smut #mark lee scenario #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagine #poison

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hollygracesworld · 3 months

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You’re Mine | Josh Lambert x Reader

fandom : Insidious (especially Chapter 2)

pairing : Possessed!Josh Lambert x Fem!reader

summary : You knew Josh when you were little. Two of you grew up together with Josh’s mother. You are an orphan and your mother used to be Josh’s mother’s best friend. You’ve known since childhood that Josh can see ghosts, more specifically the ghost of a woman who always bothers him. You two went through that kind of thing until you grew up and got engaged. But you didn’t expect that what happened to Josh this time was the worst….

Except you fuck Josh while he’s still possessed.

warning ⚠️ : Josh being possessive. sexually explicit content, fingering, rough and angry sex, unprotected sex, p in v sex.

That morning was the peak when you felt that the person sleeping with you was not really your fiancé, but someone else. Since Elise died, you have had an uneasy feeling that you swore you didn't want your hunch to be true, but as each day goes by Josh's behavior, you are increasingly convinced that your hunch about Josh killing Elise is probably true.

And now you feel so afraid of your own fiancé.

Josh hugged you from behind, his pale face exposed to the morning sun through the window, smiled at you, “I want to make hot coffee, do you want it too, hun?”

You rubbed your eyes, took off the blanket that was originally on your body then you said, “I hate coffee, do you remember?” you said quietly. You were a little scared by the change in Josh’s expression. You know that your fiancé is being possessed, but you have no other choice, you have to assume you don’t know anything for your own safety.

“Tea with a less sugar is enough for me.” you said again, then Josh smiled broadly and kissed your lips gently.

Since Elise's death, the most different thing that you feel about your fiancé is that he hasn’t slept with you again. Of course sex isn’t everything in your life, and you don’t mind if your partner just wants to cuddle and kiss while sleeping all night, but this isn’t like Josh Lambert at all. So far, you have never asked to have sex openly through words, but what you have done is only through touch.

You once tried to have a hot and intense kiss with your fiancé and started touching his cock, but he just smiled and didn’t seems care about it.

“thank you,” you said in a low voice as Josh handed you a cup hot tea.

You and Josh sat at the dining table, facing each other, you said, “Josh… I want to come with you to buy some breakfast on the road later. I haven’t had time to buy food supplies. When you get to school, can I borrow your car to go to the Grocery Store?”

“Yes, yes of course hun..”

Josh smiled, holding your hand gently. You act very awkward in front of him, how could it not be? You literally live at home with your fiancé who is being possessed. But then again, you have no choice, you have to stay calm, until you can contact his mother.

When you arrived at school, you got out of the car. Josh, with his face still looking deathly pale, smiled at you as you adjusted his tie. He touched your face really gently, and then kissed your lips. He did a French kiss by playing with his tongue, you breathlessly said, “stop...Josh...stop. We’re at school.”

Students passed by you and Josh and they giggled and smiled.

You smiled at him, “you are a teacher, there are a right time when we do that. Now go, be a good teacher and not mislead.” You said while pushing Josh’s back.

“Your woman is very sexy, sir!” said a student passing them with his gang. That guy chewed his gum while staring at your butt.

Josh turned his head and looked at the child angrily. you say, "please don't get carried away."

Josh didn't say anything, he just stared at the child's back as he walked further away from them. You noticed that Josh was looking at the man with hatred.

“Josh…”

“I want to go first, it's my time to teach.” said Josh briefly.

When Josh was about to leave, you patted his shoulder, “I’m sorry, I almost forgot to put the breakfast we bought earlier in your bag.” You said, then quickly opened the car door and took the lunch box containing gourmet sandwiches.

“Just give me that…” you said, grabbing his briefcase and opening it.

You gasped and were shocked when you were about to put Josh’s breakfast into his bag. You almost dropped the bag, he was really confused.

“Are you okay, hun?” Josh asked with a confused face.

You covered your mouth, your body felt cold sweat now. Because what you see is a sharp knife inserted between the book and the document paper.

You were so shocked that you couldn't even speak a word. With a shaking body and very scared, you opened the car door and locked it as you got into the car.

“What’s wrong, hun? What’s wrong!” Josh asked, his facial expression changed to anger, and became so scary.

He hit the car window several times, “What's wrong? You can talk to me, don’t just go away!” When you started driving your car, he was still trying to open the car door and hit the car window, but you quickly left the school.

You shed your tears. Your body is still frozen, and you are very, very scared. As you drive, you turn on your phone and open Lorraine Lambert’s number to call her.

It didn't take long, after the cellphone rang, Lorraine voice began to be heard amidst your sobs.

“What's wrong, Y/N? What's wrong with you?” Lorraine asked panicked.

“I saw a knife in Josh's bag earlier, and… and I….” you stopped because you feel out of breath.

Lorraine from the phone line tried to calm you down, “Please calm down, I know you’re very scared right now...” said Lorraine, you turned the steering wheel of your car to the right, towards a quieter road.

“I’m going to your house now, please be careful on the road.” said Lorraine then quickly turned off the phone.

When you got home, you saw Lorraine waiting for you in the yard. You quickly ran and hugged her. Your body is shaking because you’re still very scared. You guys went into the house and from there you told Lorraine everything.

“I think that when Josh went into that other world, something else came back.”

I know, I can feel. I think he's possessed. you said while lowering your head, “He’s different, I... I feel like I live in this house with a stranger.”

“You have to leave this house quickly.” said Lorraine in a serious tone.

“No, I’m fine. I can live with him as if nothing had ever happened before,” you said, wiping your tears, “I know he’s there, Mom, I know,” you said. You really consider Lorraine like your own mother, considering that she also raised you.

“Y/N…. you have to be careful. I will ask them for help, you hold on.”

You hated that this was all happening to you again, but you had no other choice.

After a long conversation that morning, now Lorraine has left you alone at home. This is your decision, to face everything alone. Even though you are often haunted and followed by the ghost of a woman dressed in white, you are okay with that and you know you can survive in that house until...

You feel someone’s breath on your chest then the breath moves towards your neck. A soft and seductive breath making you wake up and realize that you were fast asleep on the couch after Lorraine’s visit.

You saw those blue eyes that looked so perfect with that deathly pale face that showed so much lust.

Without warning, Josh grabbed your body which was still on the couch. He bit your neck aggressively and full of lust. You froze, and surprisingly, you didn’t fight back at all. You just woke up and suddenly your fiancé who is being possessed is try to fuck you after you haven’t done it for a long time.

You know that he’s being possessed, but you’re suddenly weak, because miss that body…

and that dick.

“Hun, I’m really sorry... I should have explained to you about earlier. What you see… it was a carving knife. The art teacher there asked me to bring an art carving knife for wood carving leather crafts, because I used to have one..” Josh said in a very soft voice against your cheek.

“No, it wasn’t a carving knife, I saw it!” you said trying to defend yourself.

But Josh held your body, “Shhhh, hun, please stop being like this. You left me like before, all this time you were also scared and paranoid.”

“No, but…” you said but Josh quickly covered your lips with his index finger, “don't ruin this moment, bitch.”

Josh’s expression changed drastically to become very scary. He bit your neck causing you to let out a moan from your mouth. He put his body on top of you, his lips moved to your jaw and he kissed and lick your jaw very aggressively.

You felt Josh’s breath rising and falling on your neck and jaw. He said, “Your fragrance makes me even more crazy… than what I did before.”

You don’t understand what Josh means, about what crazy things he did before. You try to fight him, but you can’t. You were too weak for him, and he put you in paradise.

Josh’s right hand entered your thin shirt and he immediately opened your bra from behind. His fingers traced the perfect shape of your breasts through your shirt, and he played with your nipples with lazy movements.

You can’t deny it. He look dead and pale but that made him look even hot.

Josh opened your thin shirt roughly, almost tearing it. He unbuttoned your pants, and now inserted his fingers into your clit. He played with your clit then inserted two fingers into your pussy, he’s making you moan so loud.

He looks at you with a satisfied smile because he has made your pussy very wet.

Josh opened your leggings roughly. He starts to take out his hard cock and insert it into your vagina very quickly.

You can feel the couch that you’re laying on is very wet now. Josh fucked you very fast. Makes you moan very loudly all the way to the end of the room. Josh- who incidentally you know that he’s not really Josh because he’s being possessed, honestly…. whoever he is now, he fucks you really good.

“You’ve been waiting a long time for my cock into your pussy, right… slut?” said Josh then he started to speed up his movements. “You know what I’m doing, but you choose to stay here because you are a miserable bitch who wants me to fuck so hard like this?”

Josh kissed your lips very aggressively, then he choke your neck. He speeds up the movement of his hard big cock in you, making you even more out of breath because he’s choking you harder.

“Please...” you groaned, trying to pull Josh’s hands away which were choking your neck.

You thought at that moment he was going to kill you, but apparently he didn’t. He released the choke when he was cum in you.

Josh this time hugged your body, and continued his movements, which this time were gentler than before, he continued without removing his cock from inside you. It's like, he won’t stop until you’re completely cum.

“Why are you so beautiful...”Josh said hoarsely in your ear, he kept kissing your lips brutally, “you’re mine, no one can see your body and praise you except me.” Josh said against your lips.

He bites your neck again, and now your neck is very visible with red marks. You felt his big cock speed up in your pussy, and Josh kissed your jaw, you were instantly at your climax. Josh quickly takes his cock out of your pussy and then you cum everywhere.

Josh kissed you, “It was all worth it.”

You looked away and said, "Josh.. what were you doing before?” You emphasized the last word as he said it earlier.

Josh smiled as if he didn't know anything, “What? What do you mean?”

THE END.

#josh lambert #josh lambert x reader #josh lambert x you #insidious #insidious chapter 2 #dalton lambert #patrick wilson #patrick wilson x reader #fanfics

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cultofdixon · 1 year

Text

What Happens Next

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • The archer was given the best news of his life, and one would say he’s one of the more involved in every single thing that has to do with his future child • ANGST/SFW/NSFW • TW: Pregnancy & Birth / Anxiety / Scars / Injuries / Sleep Deprivation • Ignoring Canon, cuz I can

Requested by: Anon

Daryl stared at her dumbfounded and a little taken back by what his wife had just told him. He had to sit down and the silence started to worry Y/N.

He doesn’t…

He doesn’t want this

We should’ve been more careful

Fuck he’s probably mad

What am I supposed to do—-

“Hey…hey…darling, what’s wrong? You’re crying” Daryl frowns as he has risen from his seat when the tears rolled from her cheeks abruptly. He carefully took a hold of her face wiping away the tears that kept falling. “Sweetheart…”

“I should’ve been more careful…”

“Y/N”

“You don’t want this—-“

“Love—-“

“Daryl I’m so sor—-“

“I want this, I want this if you do” Daryl states holding her face as the tears came on faster but no longer from her anxiety. He couldn’t help his own as he wipes the happy tears away before bringing her close in his embrace. “We’re gonna be parents”

“We’re gonna be parents”

First Trimester

“Are you going on the run tomorrow?”

“I’ll have to ask Y/N” Daryl states helping Rick pack up the truck for the overnighters as the retired sheriff gave him a confused look.

“Ask Y/N? Really? You usually never asked her before you did anythin’. Tell her yeah but—-“

“Things have changed. No more worrying of Negan causing hell on us anymore. I ain’t leaving her in the dark of anythin’.” Daryl shuts the trunk before making his way back to the house. “I’ll ask and let yea know”

“Okay…” Rick continues to have some suspicion about what’s hidden behind his words.

As Daryl enters the home he spotted Y/N immediately as she was sitting on the kitchen floor. He quickly ran over to her thinking the worse but she gave him a reassuring look that made him sit with her instantly.

“Are you alright?”

“Just felt icky when grabbing something to eat…had to sit down”

“Quickly I assume”

Y/N hums tiredly in response as she rests her head on his shoulder feeling his instantly rest on hers. “Did you tell anybody yet?”

“Am I allowed to?”

“Yes…but I wanna tell Carol. You can literally tell anybody else but this is my one. And Maggie.”

“If I tell Rick or Michonne what makes yea think they won’t tell others? Rick also doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut” He laughs making Y/N do so as well snuggling into his side. “He’s going on a run tomorrow, wondered if I’m going”

“What’s stopping you?” She asks as the silence gave her her answer. “Oh, me? I never stopped you before”

“Mm. Told him I’d ask yea if I could go…” By the way he said such, Y/N knew he didn’t want to go. Leave her for too long…she couldn’t help the smile on her face.

“I don’t want you to go”

“Then I’ll stay. Take care of yea”

“Speaking of such…I’m hungry, but I don’t want to lose it instantly”

“I can make yea toast. Prob one of the few things I can make without burning it” He smiles listening to her laugh to such before slowly getting up and offering a hand to help her up but she shook her head. “Still icky?”

“Mhm. Besides I like the view” Y/N winks smiling up at her man while he groaned to the comment.

A few days went by and today was the perfect opportunity to tell Carol. Alexandria took a big hit after the Saviors War along with the Kingdom that they have been going back and forth to help rebuild each other’s communities with the help of others. It was the Kingdom’s turn to come to Alexandria which meant Carol coming by. But Y/N went on an infirmary run with Siddiq to the other communities. This meant Daryl has to bite his tongue from telling Carol.

Even though Daryl’s silent moments that was him biting his tongue, concerned Carol.

“How’s the house holding up?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well this place was set on fire and our first job was fixing the houses. Was wondering how yours and Y/N’s is doing. Anything you add since I’ve moved to the kingdom?”

“Nope” Daryl lied of course because he can’t talk about the nursery they are starting early before Y/N can’t help physically. “Only got the guest room set up for you. That’s pretty much the only thing we did to the place”

“Uh huh” Carol squints at the man waiting for him to reveal more but he didn’t. “Well, the crops aren’t going to take care of themselves and you’re certainly not helping by drowning the potatoes” she had to take the hose away from Daryl since his mind was elsewhere and that made her worry even more.

She was even more worried and a bit suspicious when Daryl stayed outside that night with the universal radio talking to who she assumed to be Y/N.

“You feelin’ alright, darling?”

“Yeah…Maggie made sure I didn’t overwork myself once I told her”

“She happy?…for us?”

“Why wouldn’t she be? She’s a bit surprised it didn’t happen sooner. Given yknow. The times she walked in on us”

“Do I still have to apologize for the first time in Alexandria or?” Daryl smiles listening to her laugh on the other end. “It’s about to get harder to hide certain things. You better get your ass back before I blab”

“You better fucking not Dixon”

“It’s either I—-Or Rick”

Bingo. Carol knew exactly who to go to and it’s the blabber mouth. Rick can keep secrets when it came to death level situations but life? The man will fold.

“Rick!” Carol calls out to the retired sheriff while he was carrying Judith on their morning walk. “Want some company?”

“Uhm. Sure?” Rick sets Judith down as she instantly reached to hold Carol’s hand as well as her dad’s. “What’s up?”

“Daryl is keeping a secret from me and I overheard him last night talking to Y/N on the radio”

“Why are you eavesdropping on the two?”

“Because they are my family and if something serious is happening…I want to know. I’ve lost enough” She knew playing the guilt card will get Rick to fold but Judith, as young as she is, knows when her father is about to fuck something up.

“I WANT MOMMY” She screams and let go of the two’s hands to sprint in the opposite direction they were heading.

“Sorry Carol I gotta—“ Rick gestures to where his kid is running as Carol waved him off.

As Rick catches up to Judith he quickly picks her up once again as she held her hand out. He immediately took out a hard candy from his back pocket giving it to her.

“You’re a life saver”

“Can you open it daddy?”

“Of course, sweetheart” Rick smiles helping his kid on the way back to their house.

Finally, Y/N returns home with Siddiq who on the drive back was telling her about the pre-natals they had and if she ever got too sick to move that she should see him right away. He was freaking her out really with everything he was talking about. The baby book that Maggie gave her already stressed her.

“Siddiq, I love yea. But please shut up”

“Sorry. Did I go too far?”

“Yes…” Y/N sighs laughing after.

Siddiq drove up to the infirmary and parked, Y/N quickly stepped out grabbing her duffle. “Let me get you the vitamins before you head back home, okay?”

As Y/N waited on the porch, it didn’t take long for Daryl to reunite with his partner knowing she would’ve stopped there first. He was also getting restless not being able to tell Carol the news and needed her to tell her. But she looked exhausted when Daryl drew close.

“You alright?”

“Been doing check ups all day…and driving back from the Sanctuary was physically and mentally exhausting…”

Daryl didn’t know one of their stops was the Sanctuary and felt awful knowing she went there. He took her bag for her and the timing was perfect when Siddiq came out tossing the bottle to the archer.

“How many times a day?”

“It says it on the bottle, but should be once. I’d take it around noon” Siddiq advises patting Y/N on the shoulder before going to unload the truck for them.

As the two made their way back to the house, they were welcomed by Carol standing obnoxiously in the middle of the foyer.

“So what’s going on between you two?”

“Daryl didn’t tell you anything right?” Y/N asks watching the confusion grow on her face. “I’ll take that as a yes…but I’m so exhausted…”

“Carol can she tell yea in the morning? It’s nothin’ bad” Daryl frowns rubbing circles on Y/N’s back as Carol’s expression softens before inevitably nodding.

“But if you forget, I will yell at you”

“Promise” Y/N gave her a soft smile approaching her and hugging her family. “I’m so happy you’re here”

After their small moment, Y/N didn’t wait any much longer to climb into their bed and get comfortable. Daryl brought himself to her side of the bed helping her get out of her shoes and her jeans so that she could be more comfortable.

“Yea need anything from your bag downstairs?”

“Mmm. Besides my shorts, can you get me water while you’re down there?” Y/N smiles as Daryl snuck in a quick kiss to her lips before doing such.

As the archer made his way downstairs he spotted Carol at the dining room table where he put Y/N’s bag…and the bottle.

“Shit”

“You fucking hid this from me?! I wouldn’t have reacted badly—-“ Carol stops when Daryl started shushing her. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N wants to tell yea. She even got mad at me about it. She really wants to be the one to tell you that she literally gave me a list of who I could tell and you were off limits. Same with Maggie.” Daryl took the bottle from her and stowed it away in Y/N’s bag. “You can’t say shit”

“Well can I say—-“

“You can say it in the morning when she tells yea”

When he turned toward his best friend he saw the permanent smile on her face as he clenched the shorts Y/N had him get for her.

You’re gonna be a dad Carol mouths to Daryl with her smile following as she held in her squeal to hug him just for a moment before letting him get back to what he needed to do.

The morning came and Carol anxiously waited at the dining room table for the two to emerge. But only Y/N woke out of them and by the looks of it, she woke up to puke and Carol couldn’t help the worried look.

“I’m pregnant”

“I know”

“I’m too tired to kill Daryl”

“He didn’t tell me, love. I found the prenatal bottle in your bag because Daryl wouldn’t tell me anything that I had to investigate. Even Rick didn’t tell me”

“Mmm…that’s impressive” Y/N was a bit proud of Rick for not spilling the beans. Then she started tearing up which lead to her close friend rising to her feet and making her way to her. “I’m so scared Carol…” she sobbed hugging Carol back once she wrapped her arms around her.

“Oh hun that’s normal. Trust me. You are going to be a great mom, and I know that man of yours is going to be a great dad by how over protective he is and the little one isn’t even here yet” Oh Y/N knew that the archer was looming around the corner as he didn’t want to ruin their moment but also didn’t want to leave her alone in case of anything. “Now come on. You go back to sleep and take it easy today. Dad-to-be and I will hold down the fort” Carol directs Y/N back to the stairs as she stopped to hug her husband feeling him tighten his grasp on her kissing her temple.

“Come find me if yea need anything”

“Mhm” Y/N hums happily parting from him to head back to bed.

“You are going to be difficult to ask for help that takes you away from Y/N, huh?” Carol smiles watching Daryl nod. “Then go! I’ll tell Rick you’ll help out later”

The first three months was a breeze even with the morning sickness and overly tired days. Daryl wouldn’t leave when the days were bad even if Y/N insisted he’d do something other than watch her sleep. But he didn’t care. He’d even catch up on some sleep as long as it meant being with her. Carol started visiting more and Maggie would give her items that helped her during her pregnancy with Hershel Jr. She’s honestly relieved that Y/N wasn’t pregnant during all the chaos, all that was happening was just rebuilding the communities. Some part of her really wanted to physically be there but couldn’t for reasons.

“Y/N, Carol is making me read this and it’s already fuckin’ terrifying” Daryl thought something like the prison flu or another asshole threatening their lives would be the thing he worries about. But there’s so much more to it and the new world changes a lot of it.

“You don’t have to read it if it gets too much” Y/N grumbles to herself as she struggles to her favorite jeans on.

“I wanna be prepared. Even if I have no idea what colostrum is…” Daryl stops reading the page he was on when listening to Y/N’s annoyance get louder. He dog-eared the page he was on setting the book down on the dresser approaching his partner to help when he noticed. “Stop. Wear something else”

“I’m working on the farm all day. I want to be comfortable”

“If comfortable is crushing my baby, I don’t want it” Daryl unbuttoned her jeans as Y/N looks at him confused feeling her face flush when he pulled her pants down low enough to show her in the mirror. “You popped”

“Don’t ever say that again” Y/N laughs resting her hands on her small bump feeling Daryl’s gaze burn into her as she took his hand to rest on it. “Your big ass hand makes it look like nothing”

“It’s still somethin’” Daryl couldn’t help his smile forming as Y/N kisses his temple while he continued to hold her bump.

Second Trimester

It was the first deer she has seen in a while, given she usually gets rabbits and squirrels once she learned how to use her bow. Y/N snuck up on the creature perfectly as she readies her bow, the first time she had to readjust given what she was carrying. She took the shot once it was clear and managed to get the deer.

“Yes!” Y/N cheers putting her bow back on her back approaching the downed deer, pulling the arrow out once she put it out of its misery. She heard the walker approaching and given her knelt position it was going to take her a minute to get up but she was going to take it out before it got near dinner.

Then an arrow shot past her taking the walker out as Y/N quickly turns around finding her man had took the shot and gave away his position.

“I told you I could’ve done this alone”

“But yea ain’t alone, and I didn’t make any promise to the peanut. Ain’t leavin’ her alone”

“You really want a girl don’t you?” Y/N smiles ignoring how she felt a second ago to gush over the fact that Daryl really wants a little girl and how cute it was that he did.

“I ain’t calling the baby an it that’s for sure” Daryl scoffs going to retrieve his arrow and help her carry the deer back, and by help, do it himself. “Yea feel anything yet?”

The archer has been reading the baby book given to him non-stop. He’s already protective of those who’s he cares about, and the book only made it 100 times worse because of all the scary things that could happen. But there are good parts. In this regard, the baby kicking.

“I just got to five months. It won’t magically happen instantly”

“I know…but I wanna be there”

“You most likely will. You don’t leave me alone for more than a minute” Y/N laughs quietly as the two got closer to where they’ve been staying for a month. The Sanctuary. Rick had asked Daryl if he could watch the Sanctuary for a few weeks just until they’re comfortable knowing not another Negan will emerge. He also promised Y/N that it would only be a few weeks and then they can be back home enjoying their lives just the two of them before their new addition joins.

It’s been a month and Daryl hasn’t seen anything happen with the ex-saviors but has seen his wife become more anxious the longer they stay there.

“I’m talkin’ to Rick tomorrow about going home. I think the place is fine without supervision. Just as long as someone checks in every now and then…” Daryl frowns looking at Y/N who was actively ignoring the conversation knowing Rick is only going to ask for another couple days. But he was persistent this time. “Y/N. We’re gonna go home. Not have to worry about anythin’ else but gettin’ ready for the little peanut”

She really wasn’t there mentally when Daryl would talk about that. All she did was give him a small smile before hesitantly heading inside the place.

“You can go back if it’s that bad”

“Rick fuckin’ owes me this time. It’s one thing dealin’ with my own shit. But Y/N not saying more than five words a conversation while in this hell, I ain’t having it anymore Carol” Daryl frowns gripping the radio in his grasp as he tried not to lose it while he stepped outside for a moment even if his anxiety was telling him to not leave Y/N. “I need to go back inside”

“You should”

Daryl looks up from his lap finding Carol in the protective gear that Kingdom guards wear as she brought herself to sit beside him. “When did yea—-“

“You’re not the only one with access to that radio.”

“She’s talkin’ to yea and not…Carol if something serious is—-“

“Don’t. Don’t jump the gun. It has nothing to do with her state or the baby. For the most part” Carol set her pack down going through it and handing Daryl a few things at a time. They were all baby related and some clothes for Y/N that would make her more comfortable even if wearing Daryl’s sweaters were enough. “We talk about her and the baby in good terms. Whenever I do bring up the Sanctuary, she goes quiet and doesn’t want to talk about it at all. She doesn’t want to be here. So I am helping y’all get out of here and if whoever has an issue with it, they’ll talk to me”

“Or me. I don’t want Y/N to stress just from being here.” Daryl frowns holding a Fox plush that was in the pile. “Rick should’ve thought this through”

“Mm. He should’ve. But right now? We have our priorities”

Y/N was sleeping uncomfortably in one of the rooms at the Sanctuary as she would wake to every noise she heard and didn’t like being so close to the cells knowing where Daryl has been held captive for weeks. Her anxiety was the worse that night Daryl and Carol decided to sneak her out in the middle of it, the door opening lead to Y/N taking her gun out from under her pillow.

Daryl held his hands up watching Y/N relax but also break out into tears. “Hey…no I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have snuck up on yea or anythin.” He frowns sitting on the side of the bed wiping away her tears. “We’re going home, not waiting for Rick or anybody else for that matter. We’re going now”

“But—-“

“Nah. I need my wife and baby safe, and even if everything is fine here. You don’t feel safe. I need yea safe” Daryl presses his forehead against hers resting his hand on her belly and that’s when it happened. Right at that very second, Daryl suddenly pulls back keeping his hand cemented on her belly as Y/N rests hers on top of his laughing through the tears.

“Timing couldn’t be more perfect”

“Peanut didn’t like it here either” Daryl kept his attention to the movement until it stopped for the time being as he brought Y/N close to hold his family. “We’re gonna be okay. I promise”

Nobody questioned their return, and Rick definitely didn’t bother asking because he knew he’d get chewed out. But a huge part of him was thankful to have them back.

“Daryl told me to check on yea while he’s gone, but by the looks of it…” Michonne enters the nursery. “You’ve been busy” she smiles seeing all the work Y/N had managed to get done.

The walls were already a grey and Daryl found paint cans in one of the garages that matched the shade enough to fix the spots. The one part he didn’t let Y/N do because of fumes. Even though he did try to convince her to let him move furniture but she would yell at him every time he tried. It’s the simple stuff. The closet had the extra supplies, there was a dresser that held the baby clothes Daryl found and hand me downs from Maggie, a basket on top of such that held cloth diapers and burp clothes, a crib, and the rocking chair Y/N was currently sitting in that was gifted to her by someone at Oceanside. There was still much to be done but she was exhausted when Michonne came in.

“He’s on a gas run but knowing my partner he’s going to come back with things. He never comes home empty handed” Y/N shifts a bit getting used to being a growing planet of a human being as she rubs circles on her belly. “Wish he’d be back already”

“You want company?” Michonne smiles watching her friend’s eyes light up to those words.

The party of two became three and then four. That being Rosita joining once she heard a girls night was commencing in some way and Carol joining after she came to visit to do her usual check in on Y/N. Daryl isn’t the only hoverer. At first it was talking about the changes happening in the others’ lives and then the talking became talking and working on the nursery with the directions given by Y/N.

By the end of the night, Daryl came back with Rick as the two were heading toward the Dixon residence.

“You excited?”

“Who wouldn’t be?”

“I was terrified with Carl and that was before the outbreak happened. Then Judith, same feelin’ but with the undead around. Y’all having a kid with the sickos still walking. Just thought you’d be a bit more—-“

“Scared?” Daryl chuckles gripping the strap to his crossbow. “Never said I wasn’t scared and as much as hell continues to surround us, as long as they’re safe and well, our bubble can stay intact.”

“You did seem to be a natural with babies when Judith was small. I know for a fact you’ll be great” Rick pats his brother on the back watching Michonne step out of the residence with a smile on her face and immediately hugging her man.

“Have a good night” Daryl tells the two as he enters his home seeing Carol and Rosita in the kitchen cleaning up their mess but also enjoying dinner. “Hey”

“Hey, look who’s back”

“Y/N misses you. Should go check on her” Rosita states watching Daryl give her a questioning look by how she said such before doing exactly that. Since it was his plan the second he entered Alexandria.

Daryl’s first stop was the bedroom half expecting her to be in bed already. But since she wasn’t there, he knew to check the obvious and he was surprised by the finished nursery. It was very gender neutral even if he was convinced and convinced Y/N that they were having a girl. But he loved everything about it.

“You’ve been busy”

“I had help from my girls” Y/N smiles happily from the rocking chair that now had a blanket resting on the back of it. It had little woodland creatures on it. “Do you like it?”

“I love it, love it even more if you didn’t lift a finger”

“I didn’t. All the moving was done by them and Carol told me off every chance I tried” She laughs leaning forward when Daryl brought himself over leaning into her to kiss her as she met him halfway. “How was your day?”

“Found enough gas for a few more trips. Gonna try Maggie’s alternative and see if we can eventually change to that” Daryl brought himself to sit on the floor beside her enjoying the feeling of her hand running through his hair. “Did get more stuff for her”

“I figured. But you should look at one of the shelves before you bring the new items in” Y/N states watching Daryl get up with a slight groan after having an exhausting day as he goes to the shelves finding some of the plushies but books they found on display.

But there was a solo shelf above the dresser that held knickknacks. He felt a warmth in his chest finding little wooden carvings that represented each member of their family. Crossbow…arrow…sheriff hat…katana…knife…baseball cap…and the last item was a framed Polaroid that the two had taken with their family all the way back to the prison.

“Eugene whittles and got them done perfectly in my opinion. He also felt like he owed me for the time I was three months and he made me cry for an hour” that got a laugh out of Daryl even though he remembers the day perfectly where he didn’t even know his own strength by how he managed to lift the poor guy off the ground for scaring him in thinking he hurt his wife. “I think it’s perfect but we’ll need something temporary to mount them”

“I’ll think of something but they’re fine where they’re at for now” Daryl smiles returning the picture back on the shelf.

Third Trimester

I’m a fucking goddamn planet Y/N thought as she tries to look down at her feet from sitting on the bench at the end of their bed. Seven months wasn’t so bad. Eight is fucking hell.

Daryl came upstairs once he stood at the front door for too long waiting for Y/N. He thought she was right behind her but she wasn’t.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m huge. My back hurts…and I can’t tie my shoes” Y/N frowns lifting her feet up and setting them down gently as she readjusts from her seated position holding her belly.

“You should’ve just asked for help, love” Daryl knelt down once he got close enough and helped tie Y/N’s shoes feeling her distract herself by messing with his hair. “Why are you even wearing this pair? I got you shoes without laces”

“You found shoes without laces and I forgot where I put them” Pregnancy brain is a bitch. “Why are we doing this again?”

“It’s a walk around Alexandria. It’s five to ten minutes top. You also bugged me to remind you of such the past few days we’ve been doing this” He tried really hard to contain his laugh but his grin was prominent. “Helps the swelling in your legs”

“Sometimes I wish you’d listen to my tired brain over my screaming one from a few days ago”

“When we get home I’ll rub your feet”

“Sold” Y/N stops messing with his hair, fixing it quickly before he stood to his feet holding his hands out to help her off the bench.

Daryl gave her a quick kiss, then one to her bump. He’s been doing that every day since her bump became more noticeable.

It was a cool fall afternoon that the two were walking around Alexandria as Y/N watches all the familiar faces go about their day along with the new ones. This community expanded like the others and her heart swelled over the fact that this little one has a village in case of anything. But boy did her man make sure everything would go smoothly.

“I’m not naming our kid after any dead relatives”

“Middle names are fine. But you also have to give me boy names” Y/N watches her man roll his eyes as she was just preparing for that just in case. “C’mon baby. We don’t know the gender and our already huge list of girl names over power our list of boys that is literally nothing. It could happen”

“It ain’t but fine. What are yea thinking”

“I really like Shepherd”

“Done. That’s the name if we have a boy—-“

“Daryl!” Y/N smacks him in the chest lightly. “Actually come up with one instead of instantly agreeing with me. What would you like for a boy that would be on the same level with your favorite girl names?”

“Robin can go both ways”

“Okay, fair. But come on” Y/N returns her hand to holding Daryl’s as he was silent for a long time before actually thinking of one.

“Andy ain’t bad”

“Short for Andrew? That’s cute. Andrew Glenn Dixon” That sounds nice.

“Mmm. Gregory”

“No” Y/N immediately shot down. “Steven?”

“Not my first option, but an option. Mmm….” Daryl looks around the place thinking something would inspire him as Y/N tugs at him to take a seat at the gazebo. “Josh—Nah that didn’t sound right leaving my mouth”

“I had an ex named Josh in the old world”

“Then that’s a fuck no” Daryl leans back into the bench resting his head on top of hers once she placed herself on his shoulder. “Can we just agree on Andrew or Shepherd for the boy names?”

“Then Robin or Evelyn for our top girl choices” Y/N sighs happily knowing she doesn’t have to stress about that. “Glad we got that covered”

The two were simply enjoying themselves as a party of two for a little while longer. Listening to the wind of autumn…watching life continue even while outside the walls was a scary place…Daryl couldn’t help but think about the future. Would he mess up? Would he turn out like his father? But those thoughts washed away every time Y/N would look into his piercing blue eyes with her beautiful E/C ones. She’s always been the light that lead him back to reality. He knew he’ll be fine with her by his side every step of the way.

A few nights have past since that calming moment, Daryl brought his arm around his love bringing her close even if it meant her back flush against his chest. Y/N shifted slightly in her sleep out of discomfort from the size of her belly and the movement of the baby. She brought her hand on her belly hoping rubbing circles would soothe it but instead the discomfort got worse.

“D…”

“Hm?”

“Your baby won’t stop moving” She sighs feeling Daryl shift behind her enough to bring his hand to her belly. Her hope was dad’s touch would do something but it didn’t.

Daryl got up entirely from the bed moving himself to her side watching the discomfort in her face grow as she tries to hide in her pillow.

“Imma get Siddiq”

“Please don’t leave me…” Y/N sobs feeling his calloused hand brush the hair out of her face before taking care of the on-going tears.

“Hun if you’re in labor we need the doc”

“My water hasn’t broke yet…”

“Y/N. I don’t want to take any chances here” Daryl frowns hating that she was already experiencing a lot of discomfort that they both knew was only going to get worse. “The second it breaks I’m getting Siddiq. But what do you want me to do right now for you? Just name it”

Early stages of labor was mainly discomfort and the body preparing itself. Daryl didn’t like anything Y/N was suggesting they’d do before her water breaks.

Like the walk they were taking at 3AM and Daryl growing frustrated every time Y/N would smack his hand away when he tried to hold her in some way. She was starting to feel crowded in her own person making her stop suddenly in the middle of the street.

“What’s happenin’” Daryl frowns resting his hand on her back as she tensed to the touch. “Y/N. Tell—-“

“Shut up. I don’t want to walk anymore” She groans turning herself around and waddling incredibly slow back to their place.

The sound of a door opening caught the archer’s attention as he quickly noticed Rosita stepping out of the house she shared with Eugene and Gabriel. She looks at the two confused as Daryl tried his best to tell her what was happening with hand gestures. Rosita is a smart woman she caught on without Daryl’s gesturing as she went back inside to get her shoes on and leave to go get Siddiq for the Dixons.

“She’s in the bath”

“Hm. That makes sense” Siddiq rubs the sleep out of his eyes as it was now around five in the morning and her water hasn’t broken yet. “How do we know these aren’t Braxton?”

“The fake ones? She’s in a lot of discomfort. I doubt it’s fucking fake” Daryl frowns his anxiety was spiking his rage slightly. “I gotta check on her. Just. I’ll come and find yea—-“

“I’m already here. I’ll just be on the couch until anything. Okay? But if it gets worse, I have to check her myself to see how dilated she might be”

“Alright” Daryl quickly went back upstairs, surprised Y/N even wanted to be back up there. But it meant having their kid in their bedroom if it comes to it.

Y/N was comfortably uncomfortable in the bath as she didn’t say a word when Daryl entered, only looked at him with tears still blurring her vision.

“How bad is it?” Daryl sat on the edge of the tub taking her hand into his, feeling her crush his hand instantly. “Fucking hell”

“You should’ve told me sooner if you were a big baby.”

“I wasn’t?” Daryl knew her emotions were going to be all over the place, and her anger is starting to get there. “I was premature.”

“You gave me a big ass baby” Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and the grip on his hand got tighter indicating the pain getting worse. These weren’t fake. These were real contractions. “God she’s going to fucking rip herself out of me”

There’s a mental image Daryl is never going to forget, and the man has seen Alien. Okay now it’s worse applying a chest buster to labor.

“Siddiq has to check yea to see how dilated you are”

“Only you can see me fucking naked. I need to get the fuck out and put a shirt on before that happens”

“Are you even ready to—-“

“NO” She snaps wanting to remain in the tub for a little while longer.

Word got out that Y/N was in the early stages of labor and as more of their family entered the living room, the more it progressed. Siddiq had left to get everything he’ll need from the infirmary given this is now happening in their home. Oh what the doc would give for a hospital right about now. He knows what he’s doing but he still feels inexperienced every time.

Y/N wore one of Daryl’s shirts covering most of her as she felt like a tiny person carrying a planet even more now that her water has broke all over their floor. She leans against the bed gripping the sheets trying to distract herself, appreciating Daryl’s hands working their magic on her back to ease the pain while she took deep breathes.

“I hate you”

“Mm. Fair.”

“No don’t agree with me I’m not serious” she started to sob again. Nice job Daryl. “I love you…I love you so much and I’m excited for this chapter but HOLY FUCK DOES IT HURT” she screams as it startled Daryl a bit, especially their friends in the living room.

“I’ve gotcha love” Daryl brought himself beside her resting his head against hers feeling her lean into him. “Just a few more hours and it’ll be all over”

“I can’t…Fucking, I can’t” Y/N sobs into him feeling his arm wrap around her shoulders to bring her closer.

“You’re the strongest person I know. You can, and you will.” Daryl states kissing her temple before helping her back into the bed.

A few hours have passed and Siddiq checked how dilated she was once more before giving Daryl and Y/N a look that it was time. While he got himself prepared, Y/N gave her partner a horrified look.

“I’m not ready”

“Love, it’s time”

“Daryl I’m not ready” She cries. “What if I’m a terrible mom? What if I mess up so bad that she’ll resent me? I-I…”

Daryl squeezes her hand bringing it up to his lips kissing the back of it before resting his forehead against hers. “You’re going to be great. No one is ever ready. I’m scared shitless. But I know I’ll be great with yea, Y/N. We’ll be great. We’ll mess up and take care of it along the way. It’s bound to happen but again, we’ll be great. We have a village. Have each other. I’m right here, sunshine”

His words made her cry even more but in ease. Siddiq was finally ready and bringing the blanket up checking her once more when Daryl got an idea. He kicked his shoes off and had Y/N sit up enough for him to slip in behind her. She instantly presses herself against his chest feeling his hand move to her knees after instructed to do such.

“Okay, push on the next contraction” Siddiq states letting the nature take its course.

Y/N started to get anxious when the contraction hit her like a truck which lead to her pushing given her instruction. Daryl felt her hands grip onto his forearms as he moved one of his hands off her knee a second to grab her hand letting her squeeze the hell out of it while he brought her leg back into position.

“Good. Good” Siddiq made sure everything was happening smoothly. “Only push on the contractions, Y/N. Or you’ll tear”

“I want to push now…” She sobs feeling Daryl rest his chin on her shoulder.

“Just wait love” Daryl squeezes her hand and her knee with the other one as she rests her head against his.

Push

Push.

Push!

It felt surreal, like how the hell did this even happen? How did they manage to create this perfect little human being that was currently crying up a storm on Y/N’s chest…Daryl couldn’t help the tears that breached from his eyes as he watches their little girl sob into her mother’s chest.

“We did it love…”

“You did it, sweetheart” Daryl kisses Y/N’s temple continuing to keep his full attention on their little one. “She’s perfect”

As the day progresses and the news of little Robin Elizabeth Dixon spread through their entire family, the day felt as if it slowed for just a moment. That moment being Daryl holding his little girl for the first time, letting his wife rest as he took care of her.

Daryl hasn’t stopped smiling since he first saw his daughter and how perfect she came out. He didn’t have to worry about losing either of them during the process, and she was a healthy little girl that calmed instantly in her father’s embrace.

“Are you happy, Daryl?” Y/N smiles tiredly watching the two from her spot seeing his smile grow.

“Yeah, yeah I am”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #I think. this one broke my phone #but boy it’s worth it.#daryl dixon fanfiction

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

Text

Bad For Business: Level Two

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2K] An enemies to lovers au. Arcade coworkers, who love to hate each other, get too competitive about Dig Dug and share a mutal annoyance for the kids that like to pester them. Choose your own adventure by picking an option at the end of the chapter. “I’m gonna need you to stay late tonight,” Murray said through a mouthful of his sandwich. You startled, realising he was talking to you. Robin sunk down in her seat, her eyes trained on her microwaved pasta. “The games are getting serviced, but they’re not gonna be done until, pshh, midnight? Maybe.”

“What?” You stared at your boss, your own lunch forgotten about. “But Robin was working that, wasn’t this already, uh, discussed?”

“Buckley has a medical appointment,” Murray replied, too busy staring at some coffee stained sheets of paper to give you any attention. “And I don’t like to pry into my employees personal lives, so, you’re it, kid.”

You turned, neck snapping to the girl. She was already grimacing, knowing fine well that you knew there was absolutely no appointment. Your friend had spent all week gushing about a date she had at the weekend, you just assumed it was Sunday, not Saturday, seeing as she was already on the rota for the late shift.

“Oh no. I hope you’re not too sick, Robin,” you said through clenched teeth.

The girl sunk further down, her nose level with the table and her lukewarm pasta. She had the good grace to wince and mouth ‘sorry’ at you, eyes wide and apologetic.

“Anyway, you and Harrington can utilise your time and do something productive, like cleaning the popcorn machine,” Murray waved a hand, distracted, knocking his coffee mug dangerously close to the computer.

The popcorn machine hadn’t worked since 1973 but you didn’t bother mentioning that, too hung up on the other name that Murray had lumped yours with. “Harrington?” You glared between your boss and Robin, who was now positively morose. “Steve? Steve’s on the late with me? No. No.”

Murray laughed, a mean cackle that told you there wasn’t really any point in arguing, but you tried anyway. “Murray, please, c’mon. Can’t Argyle do the late? Carver? Literally anyone else?”

The man snorted, finally turning on his computer chair, the wheels protesting and he was grinning at you, gaze amused through his wire rimmed glasses. “They’re busy.”

“So am I!” You attempted, voice cracking.

“You owe me approximately…” he turned back to his desk, rifling through the mess there until he produced what looked to be your timesheet. You bit back a swear. “…five hours this week. And that’s not including the forty minutes you were late this morning, so, I think we can compromise on you doing the late and keeping your job, alright?”

You didn’t say anything, just turning back on your chair to slump down to Robin’s level, arms folded and eyes stormy. The girl knocked your ankle with her own, mouthing another apology across the table, and if it weren’t for the fact she’d been trying to work up the courage to ask Nancy out for months now, you would’ve definitely have done something childish, like knock her pasta off the table.

But you didn’t. You were fine. It was fine.

“Make sure you lock up properly when you leave,” Murray reminded you unnecessarily, ‘cause that was Argyle’s bad habit, not yours. “And play nice with Steven - but not too nice.” He ruffled your hair as he passed, already leaving for the day despite the fact there was four hours left of opening. “There’s cameras everywhere, and some of them actually work. We don’t gotta see that, and I got out of the porn business years ago.”

Silence settled over the staff room as he slammed the door behind him, his last comment making Robin firmly push her lunch away. You blinked and stared at her, both of you thinking too much.

“Is he… was that a joke?” She asked, hesitant to know the answer.

“I have no idea.”

—————

Steve arrived as the last of the staff left, coming from his day off to spend the next six hours with you in the dark arcade, waiting for a team of greasy haired men to push some buttons on each machine, wiggle a joystick or two and then demand a couple of hundred dollars for their effort.

It was unnerving to see the boy in normal clothes, no real need for his staff shirt or name badge. His white t-shirt made him look even more tanned, sunkissed from the afternoons spent by his pool, the cotton lit up ultraviolet under the arcade lights.

“What time are they comin’?” He asked in lieu of greeting, heaving himself up to sit on the desk, narrowly avoiding the bag of chips you’d been snacking on.

You huffed, an annoyed sound that the boy was so used to, snatching your chips away before he could crush them further. You shrugged, moving away from Steve, eager to put some distance between you and him, ‘cause he smelled too damn nice.

Like sunscreen and summer, leftover chlorine and a cologne that was probably more than his last paycheck. It was annoyingly distracting.

“Don’t know, Murray said anytime between seven and ten.” You were already tired, draping yourself over the counter, used ticket stubs sticking to your arms. “This fucking sucks.”

“Didn’t you miss me?” Steve grinned, spinning on the desk to face you, his legs crossed in front of him as he leaned forward, taunting. He was good at giving you the eye, that gaze he gave all the girls, thick lashes fluttering, honey brown stare all soft and warm.

Too bad it didn’t work on you.

“No. But I’m glad to see you managed to pick up a sense of humour as well as an STD by the pool today.”

Steve laughed, unperturbed by your vicious comment. It hurt less when you smiled at him like that, all pretty and pleased with yourself, smug about it. “You’re particularly catty today, princess. Still not managed to reclaim a Dig Dug victory?”

“Fuck off.”

Steve grinned. Riling you up was his favourite thing to do. But all too soon, you were pushing yourself away from the desk, chips forgotten about, and rounding the counter. You sighed, looking around the empty arcade as if doing anything was better than talking to him.

“I’m gonna refill the ticket machines,” you declared, not looking at him when you spoke. “Murray said you need to clean the popcorn machine, so, Godspeed.”

Steve blanked, staring at you as you walked away, bare legs lit up in pinks and blues under the lights, your shorts a constant distraction for him. He hated them. “Wait, what? The popcorn machine hasn’t worked in fucking years.”

“Not my problem!” You waved him off before turning the corner, disappearing behind the chunky machines that had stood since the beginning of the seventies. “Have fun, Harrington.”

Steve let the service men in an hour later, the silence that had fallen over the arcade interrupted by mechanical beeping and the switching on and off of each machine. He hadn’t seen you since he’d first arrived and the fact that he’d only managed to get one rise out of you was severely disappointing. So he searched through the large room, navigating the rows of games in a way he knew all too well, each screen flashing invitingly, the promise of a new adventure stuck behind each one.

He knew where to find you, it wasn’t all that hard. But he still stopped to watch from afar as you bashed the buttons on the Dig Dug machine, swearing softly to yourself when the game didn’t do what you wanted. It beeped angrily, the screen flashed and a patronising ‘game over’ sign flooded the black background.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he called out, too happily.

You spun, scowling at the sound of his voice, his cheery negativity, his wide smirk. A sound of dismissal left your throat, annoyance clear on your face, but you couldn’t resist the bait. “There’s like, three buttons and I only need to use one of them,” you snapped, “how can I be doing it wrong?”

Steve joined you at the machine, leaning on the side of the bulky game, lit up by the flashing neon lights that hung above it. He was six different shades of yellow and orange, all golds and ambers and peaches across tanned skin and brown eyes. He was smug looking, eyes flickering from yours down to your fingers that were prodding at the button, bashing it furiously as you tried to blow up the Fygar’s that were in your way. The game beeped again, angry, and you were back to the main menu.

Steve’s name flashed obnoxiously from the top of the leaderboard, the number one beside it, setting your teeth on edge. You pushed another coin into the slot, took a deep breath and tried to ignore the boy beside you.

Steve only managed another minute or two of polite silence before he was sighing. “Jesus, look, like this, yeah?” His hand covered your own, the one hovering over the button and you froze, staring at him from the side of your eyes. “It’s about timing, not how hard you can mash the button into the board.”

You knew how to play. You were number one last week, you weren’t a novice, Dig Dug was your favourite game. You should’ve shaken him off, snarled something mean about men thinking they always knew best but you were frozen, still staring, looking at the boy like a deer trapped in headlights.

Steve pressed his fingers over yours as the game restarted, the tinny, electronic music beginning all over again. He was methodical about it, pressing the shooter only when the enemies got close enough, a vast difference to the way you manically shot on sight. But he frowned when he realised you weren’t moving at all, the joystick frozen in your other hand.

“C’mon, you’re not exactly helping,” he complained moodily. “S’wrong? Scared I’m trying to seduce you or somethin’?”

You scowled at that, shifting under Steve’s touch, glaring at him from where he still stood beside the machine; one, warm, wide hand still covering yours. His fingers were so much bigger than your own, swallowing your own against the buttons.

“As if you could,” you were quick to shoot back, but you ducked your chin, glaring at the screen through your lashes. “More concerned about where your hands have been.”

You heard him huff out a laugh, a breath through the smirk that seemed to always be on his lips when he was around you. He pressed your fingers down again when you tilted the joystick, successfully blowing up three of the little pixelated enemies on screen.

“Now, now, princess,” Steve’s voice was low, smooth. You hated it. “Don’t act like you weren’t letting Carver drape himself over you last Wednesday.”

You wrinkled your nose at the memory, not liking Jason Carver any more than you did Steve, but at least the latter didn’t invade your personal space like Jason did. The blonde boy seemed to think his old letterman jacket was a one way pass into a girl's pants, no matter how long it had been since high school had ended.

You had absolutely no interest in Jason, you never had and you told him as such on the daily. But it was still fun to say, “you sound jealous, Steven.” You smirked the same as him, letting your gaze slide to him from the side of your eye, watching as he frowned, cheeks rosier than normal in the arcade lights.

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart,” he bit back, eyes focused on the screen, his fingers jabbing over yours a little harder than before. “You’re not my type.”

It shouldn’t have cut you as much as it did, a cheap jab, wrapped in barbed wire but it stung all the same. You sneered, a nasty thing, shrugging Steve off, his hand moving from yours and leaving it cold. You pressed the button alone, blowing up the pixels until there were none left and the level cleared. The screen flashed with a new high score and you tilted the joystick with more force than necessary as you typed out your initials.

Your name took first place on the leader board, knocking STEVE H. to the number two spot. The boy didn’t say anything as you walked away, his eyes on your bare legs, as usual, the taste of regret sitting heavy on his tongue.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot

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