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hotchs-big-hands · 2 months

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Hey Bunny

Aaron Hotchner x plus-size fem!reader SMUT|10.7k words

MINORS DNI PLEASE

Hey everyone! Been a while since I’ve written a full coherent fic LMAO and here I bring the gift of lots of smut. Probably the kinkiest thing I’ve written to date, which I’ll list off in the warnings. This is all based off conversations I’ve had with 🖤 anon for a while :3 so I can’t take all the credit! I hope yawl enjoy this absolute FILTH 💅💅💅

After being woken up from a vivid erotic dream about your boss, who you’re currently on the last night of sharing a hotel room and bed with after a successful case, you’re more than reassured that it’s okay to have such dreams about him. And he’ll learn a bit more about you than he first thought.

Warning(s): light hurt/comfort, very brief mention of Foyet and what he did, so much sex, use of petnames, bunny kink, daddy/sir kink, erotic dreams, oral (both m/f giving and receiving), light gagging, pussy slapping, spanking, light humiliation, a lot of dirty talk in general, fingering, p in v penetration, body worship (both m/f giving and receiving), size kink, slight gaping, condom use, it's just kinky okay what can I tell you?

It was not often enough for a case to end well in a way that allowed for you all to head out for a celebratory meal afterwards. But luckily for you all this time it most certainly had turned out better than anticipated in the end. The kidnapped victims had been found safely and the unsub was subdued with no casualties. Spirits were higher than they had been in the previous case and thus you all found yourselves sitting around a large table sharing a meal; Rossi's treat, of course.

The mood was certainly more rowdy tonight with the sounds of laughter bouncing around the table and cheerful chatter filled the atmosphere with a familial warmth. You were perching more to your left on your chair right now, engaging in the conversation with JJ and Emily with great enthusiasm, something that the two were raising a brow at, though you pretended not to notice. In truth, you were trying to avoid the man sitting on your right. Not for displeasure reasons, but quite the opposite in fact. Attempting to avoid brushing your leg or arm against your very sexy boss was the cause for your behaviour right now.

Aaron Hotchner had been your hotel room mate for the week, something that had been extremely difficult for you to cope with having as big of a crush on him as you did. You'd seen him in far less clothing than his standard neat, tight suits during the entire week as he slept in fitted tees and his underwear, although you suspected he didn't typically do that when he slept alone. It was a very bad idea to linger on those sorts of thoughts though…

JJ suddenly bumped into you, having been shoved by Emily at the climax of a funny story and you squeaked, jolting back and ultimately knocking against Aaron with a yelp.

"H-hey! You two, watch it!" You squeaked, earning a hearty laugh from the dark haired woman.

"Aww come on, it was an accident."

As you opened your mouth to retort, you felt a warm hand rest upon your right leg, just short of your large thigh, and you fought the urge to jolt again.

"Are you alright?" You heard the man beside you ask and you shivered. You didn’t want to look at him in fear of embarrassing yourself by ogling, but at the same time you didn’t want to be rude either. You turned your head in his direction and your breath escaped you when your eyes met his beautiful brown ones accidentally. His gaze was intense and yet kind and concerned. You offered a shy smile.

“I am y-yes. Don’t worry about me, we’re all just in good spirits tonight, sir.”

His brow raised slightly.

“Aaron.” He said. You blinked.

“Mm?”

“We aren’t working now, call me Aaron.”

Oh. You shifted in your seat and grimaced when the wood creaked slightly.

“Alright then, Aaron.” You chuckled to yourself, earning an increasingly perplexed expression on his face. To which you flustered and turned towards him more in your seat and waved a hand out in front of you. “I-I’m not laughing at your name! I’m just- it’s unusual for me to call you by your first name so I’m-“

Aaron’s delightful but sadly rare laugh cut you off and you were greeted with his cute dimples on his cheeks. Even the others stilled their conversation at the sound, but he didn’t appear to care to pay them any mind.

“Please, relax. You're fine, (Y/n).” He smiled, and you basked in the smoothness of his deep voice. You swore you were just imagining things when you felt his hand slightly slip upwards to your lower thigh and squeeze gently, nonetheless you shivered.

The hand remained on your leg right up until Aaron excused himself to visit the restroom whilst the rest of your group began shrugging your coats on ready to head back to the hotel. You felt flutters in your stomach and you fought off a nervous twitch of the corner of your mouth, something your dear friend and colleague Derek noticed.

“A little excited, huh?” He teased, waggling his expressive eyebrows at you. From his perspective you must have appeared like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and your mouth slightly agape.

“Wh- no! I’m tired, eager to go to sleep so we can fly home tomorrow.” You responded quickly as you straightened out your clothing and fastened your coat up.

“Mhm, sure you are.”

Emily was smirking at you when your head whipped round at the sound of her voice and one of her perfect brows was arched. You felt flushed, desperate to rush outside into the biting air of the night. Before you opened your mouth to retort back at her, you noticed her eyes flick over your shoulder and you knew he had returned.

“Ready to go?” Aaron addressed the group. There was a series of responses bounced around and you felt a hand lightly press to the small of your back. You jolted slightly, and met his gaze with a turn. “Shall we go?”

You could only nod. Vainly ignoring the pointed stares of your friends, you followed beside your unit chief as everyone exited the restaurant. You shivered slightly when the frigid wind hit your face, but you were grateful for the temperature change. The walk was short with the restaurant being located a few short blocks from the hotel and you found yourself in step with Emily and JJ, listening and chiming in with the plans they were putting together to have a girl’s night with your one only absent member of the team in the field; Penelope.

“You could stay over at my place at the end of the night out, if you wanted.” Emily said. You nodded and grinned, but JJ grimaced slightly.

“I’d be headed back home to my boys after. I wanna spend as much time with them as I can,” She spoke, then smiled smugly. “Aside from you lovely ladies, of course.”

The darker haired woman of the two huffed out a quiet laugh before the conversation died down when you came to a stop in front of the hotel’s elevator. You busied yourself with looking down at your phone when you felt the men from the team catch you all up and, with the opening of the doors, you all shuffled inside tiredly. You ended up towards the back wall, separated from Emily and JJ, and you briefly caught Emily’s eye. That smirk was present on her face again and you glanced away quickly, only to watch as your breathtaking unit chief squeezed between Derek and Spencer towards you. You couldn’t help your eyes widening slightly and your legs brushing against one another as he came to stand beside you. God, you needed to leave this damn elevator quickly. Slowly, the doors closed and you felt the movement of the elevator rising up to the floor Rossi was on. He, of course, had a room all to himself with the excuse of him being the oldest member of the team and therefore, needing his own space. The remainder of you all were on the floor above in doubles. And that was where your problem lay…

Just one more night, you thought to yourself. One more, then you could escape from the torture of sharing with Aaron Hotchner. Torture, as in sleeping on the only bed in the room; a queen, so close under the covers to the man who had taken up the entirety of your fantasies and erotic dreams. It hadn’t been easy, using the same shower he did, smelling his body wash and imagining it was in your shower at home instead. It was all too much for you and it made your thighs clench together. And while the case had been a good distraction from the full extent of your thoughts about the man, you didn’t have that now with it finished. Tonight was going to be the most tortuous of them all.

You followed behind Derek when the elevator stopped on your floor and you skittishly trekked down the corridor, unable to participate in conversation well. Your room was the first, and as Aaron unlocked the door, you watched helplessly as your friends bid you as much of a ‘good night’ as a pointed smirk that made you turn your back on them, cheeks burning. Seeing the door swung open, you mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ to him as you passed and Aaron followed, quietly closing the door behind you both and locking it again. You crossed the room to your side of the queen-sized bed and shyly perched on the edge to unfasten your shoes and kick them off.

“Do you want to take a shower first?” You heard Aaron say and you turned your body to look at him. Your breath hitched at the sight of him without his jacket on and one of his large hands was loosening the knot of his tie. You blinked a few times, trying to break your stare and you shook your head.

“Oh, no you can. Thank you, si- Aaron.”

Your cheeks flushed when he smirked at your self-correction and he hummed.

“Thanks. I’ll be quick.”

As he disappeared into the shower room with his change of clothes and towel, you flopped backwards on the bed with an exhale. One more night. Just one more and you would be free from accidentally embarrassing yourself or revealing your feelings in front of your boss. You didn’t know how you were going to sleep well tonight with nothing work-related to focus on now. No, instead your mind was fixated on the knowledge you had been sharing a bed with the man you thought about way too often, dreamt about too often, and gasped out the name of whilst you touched yourself when you definitely shouldn’t have been.

Sitting up again, you busied yourself with packing your bag as a distraction, leaving out your clothes for the journey home tomorrow. By the time you were finished, the door to the shower room swung open and Aaron walked out, rubbing his towel through his wet hair. Oh fuck.

With his arms stretched up, his more fitted black tee rode upwards and, to your delight and horror, the sexy softness of his lower stomach peeked out. You could spy the dark hair trailing from the top of his grey boxers and just below it-

“Shower’s all yours.”

You jolted at the sound of his voice and you grabbed your pyjamas and towel quickly, avoiding his gaze.

“T-thank you.”

When you heard the click of the lock, you began to tremble and buried your face in the fabric in your hands. God, you wanted to scream right now. Feebly, you hoped he hadn’t caught you staring at his physique just now but you weren’t so sure. It didn’t help that the scent of his shower gel and aftershave enveloped you in the steamy room. You clenched your thighs together and drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself down enough to wash off the day. Stripping your clothes off and setting them down on the side of the sink top, not daring to look in the mirror too much at your plush body for you knew you’d see just how riled up you were right now.

The cold water of the shower did nothing to stifle the sensations between your legs, your pussy throbbed, yearning to be touched. You forbade it. Tomorrow, you thought. Not when the cause of your arousal was just the other side of the door. But even still you couldn’t resist rubbing your thighs together as the water cascaded down your curves and bumps. Eventually, you gave up and shut the water off and stepped out with your towel wrapped around your figure. You kept your touch feather-light as you dried yourself off and pulled your nightwear on, biting your lip and whimpering when the fabric brushed against the sensitive skin of your breasts and inner thighs. Drawing in a deep breath, you gathered your clothes up after finishing your nightly routine and exited out into the main room.

Aaron wasn’t in bed as you expected, rather standing by the hotel room’s desk with a casefile in hand. At the sound of your return he glanced up from the paperwork through his thick lashes. You swallowed thickly as you returned to your side of the bed again and bent over to stuff the last of your clothes into your bag. Behind you, Aaron cleared his throat and you straightened up quickly and climbed onto the bed, but he remained where he stood, now with his back to you still holding the file. You pouted.

“Si-Aaron, leave that for when we get back to the office. Or at least until we get on the plane,” You said as you peeled the covers back and settled under them. “Come to bed.”

“Making orders, are we?” The man retorted and you froze up, eyes wide in alarm when he turned slightly to look at you. His brows were furrowed, mouth pulled downward in a stern frown.

“A-Ah no! Just- I just thought you could do with an earlier night work-free tonight!” You squeaked, shifting on the bed ready to stand up again until he chuckled and flashed you a cheesy grin.

“I’m teasing you. I’m sorry, you’re right though. I’ll just be a moment, then I’ll be right over.”

You stared, blinking slowly as you processed what had just occurred, then a giggle bubbled out of you as you settled back against the pillows on your side. Aaron wasn’t really the type to tease anyone, and the way he said it to you was… well, sexy. Authoritative. You certainly would be thinking of that tomorrow when you finally returned home. But right now you had to get through this last night, somehow.

As he said, Aaron set the paperwork down after a few minutes and padded across the room to settle down on the bed. Attempting to distract yourself in the meantime, you were scrolling on your phone casually and forcefully willed yourself not to look at him when you felt the mattress dip under his weight settling next to you. As he shuffled under the covers, you reached over to your bedside table and set your phone down, then snuggled down against the pillows. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, so close to you that it was electrifying. Your body shuddered.

“Cold?” Aaron queried. Your toes curled.

“Y-yeah. I’ll warm up though.”

“Right. Let me know if you don’t though.”

“Will do.” You turned on your side, facing away from him as he reached for the light switch on the wall next to him. “Good night, sir.”

Aaron hummed.

“Sleep well, (Y/n).”

And somehow, you managed to drift off to sleep.

“Mhm, come on now. Show daddy your pretty pussy.” Aaron said with a smirk, kneeling between your plump thighs as you dug your heels into the mattress.

You bit your lip, gazing up at his dishevelled appearance, his shirt unbuttoned the whole way and hanging from his shoulders to reveal the plains of his strong chest and soft pudge of his lower stomach. And below it was a prominent bulge pressed against the fly of his neat slacks, the sight making you shudder with need. Shyly, you grabbed your legs by the back of your knees and slowly pulled them apart, feeling your folds spread and the cool air of the room caressed your glistening slit. Aaron’s pupils dilated until his brown eyes appeared almost black and his hands came to grip onto the meat of your thighs, fingers digging in as he pulled them further apart to examine your throbbing clit and twitchy entrance. He groaned as a trail of juices trickled out of you, slowly disappearing between your ass cheeks before him.

“Yes… such a good girl for daddy. You want me to play with your pussy, huh?”

You rolled your hips eagerly, letting out a guttural whine.

“Please daddy, please!”

His smirk widened.

“Please, what?”

You whimpered as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

“P-please play with my pussy, daddy! Need your fingers so badly!” You cried, rolling your hips again.

“Good girl.”

His hands brushed closer and closer to your slit until he suddenly pushed back the hood of your clit with his right thumb, exposing the bundle of nerves to him and eliciting a squeak. But as his other hand came to caress it your hips jumped, the pleasurable sensation intense already. He cooed.

“So sensitive and jumpy, like a cute little bunny.”

Your eyes widened and your body jolted with his words, making him let out a surprised chuckle.

“Oh? You like being called bunny, huh? Naughty girl.” He said and his hand came down fast and slapped your poor clit. You wailed, your grip on your legs tightening.

“D-daddy~!”

Your cheeks warmed, your lower belly coiling in embarrassment and arousal and he let out a breathy laugh again.

“Awww, is my little bunny embarrassed she liked that? How cute. Don’t worry though, daddy’s gonna take care of you…”

Muffled sounds roused Aaron from his light slumber and he sat up quickly in alarm, reaching over to his bedside table- then he realised the covers were moving beside him. He cautiously turned to look over your side of the bed and his jaw clenched.

Writhing with the sheets kicked mostly off, you slept restlessly. A thin layer of sweat beaded on your forehead and your brows were creased. This was where the noise was coming from, Aaron thought as you whimpered quietly. A nightmare? Then he really paid attention to the way your body moved, hips rolling, legs splaying lazily and your hands clutched at the sheets. Oh.

Within his boxers, Aaron felt his cock twitch at the realisation of what you were more likely dreaming about in that moment. Fuck. What was he to do? He most certainly wouldn’t get anymore sleep now at this rate. Maybe he should quietly get dressed and leave with a note telling you he went for a walk. But at the same time he didn’t like the thought of leaving you by yourself- Aaron scrunched his eyes shut and clenched his hands into fists, pushing away the more serious thoughts. You were capable of protecting yourself, he knew that. And yet…

“Mmh, daddy please…” He heard beside him and his entire body jolted in surprise, eyes flying open and immediately finding your face. Aaron swallowed thickly as his cock twitched again, hardening slowly.

Try as he might to resist, his eyes wandered to the rest of your body where your chest rose and fell, the swell of your breasts strained against the confines of your pyjama shirt. Fuck, your nipples were pebbled and for a moment he wondered how they'd feel between his teeth.

He clenched his jaw and forced his gaze away from your chest, only to find himself ogling the squishiness of your stomach. Oh, how he had fantasised about gripping onto it as he thrusted his cock into you, needing to see how your body moved in time with him. And as his eyes trailed down to your moving hips he spotted the dampening patch on the crotch of your pyjama shorts- fuck, he needed to wake you up now.

Carefully, Aaron reached a shaky hand over towards you in the darkness of the room and touched your shoulder.

“(Y/n), hey, wake up.” He said softly, and in response your eyes squeezed shut as you let out a groan. “Come on, wake up, sweetheart.”

A moment passed, then your eyes fluttered open and flicked to look at him, only to squeak and flinch back when familiarity filled your gaze.

“S-sir!” You cried out.

This couldn’t be happening to you right now, surely. You surely weren't sprawled out flushed and needy whilst Aaron stared down at you as he kneeled beside you, his hand still resting on your shoulder. You quickly sat up and pulled the covers up over your form.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Do we have a case?” You stumbled over the words quickly, and Aaron blinked, then huffed out a quiet laugh.

“No, no. Don't worry about that. Are you okay?” He asked gently and you felt your stomach clench. Oh no…

“I-I….”

Aaron leaned a little closer, brows creased in concern.

“Bad dream?”

You froze. He really did hear you, then. After a moment, you sighed and rubbed your hands over your face.

“No… but I think you already know that, sir.” You mumbled.

Aaron hummed and dropped his hand from your shoulder.

“I didn't want to accuse you of anything and embarrass you,” he said and shifted back towards his side of the bed ever so slightly to give you space. “But, well, I woke up because I could hear you.”

Your grip on the covers tightened as a cold feeling of shame oozed over you.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen.”

You mumbled as your head drooped and you felt your lower lip begin to tremble. This was the worst thing to happen right now. Not only had you dreamt of your boss in an inappropriate way, you'd disturbed his sleep too.

“Hey…” Aaron began softly, reaching across again to take hold of one of your hands. You refused to look up though, the negative feelings within now burned through your veins like lava. “Look at me.” He said.

You didn't move.

“I can't. Wanna forget this happened, sir.” You mumbled back.

He was quiet for a moment, brushing his thumb across your knuckles soothingly.

“Well I don't.”

That got your attention, then. Your head snapped up and your eyes searched his face.

“I-I’m sorry?”

Aaron gazed down at you through his thick lashes, the sight causing a warmth to pool within your lower abdomen. Had he gotten closer all of a sudden?

“I’m going to switch the room light on, protect your eyes for a moment.”

You complied immediately, turning away to bury your face in the crook of your arm and you heard the click of the light switch, signalling you to slowly pull your arm away from your squinting eyes. Now… Now there was nothing to hide from him. You turned back towards him and you shuddered at the sight of his rugged appearance. Aaron exhaled.

“Listen (Y/n), you think I'm a stranger to erotic dreams? Of course I'm not.” He said, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You've nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But I do!” You cried and pulled back, stumbling out of bed and clenching your hands into fists. “I shouldn't have had this dream, especially since I dreamt about the very person I've been-” your eyes widened then, realising what you'd almost said. Aaron knelt up now, moving closer to where you stood backed against the wall.

“Been what?”

You just had to dig your hole deeper. Aaron’s brows were creased now, but all you could do was stare back with a saddened furrow.

“(Y/n)?”

The prickling feeling in the corner of your eyes triggered your throat to tighten as you fought the urge to cry.

“You know what I'm going to say, but I'm ashamed to say it.” You choked.

Aaron's brows raised slightly, but he remained quiet for a moment as though lost in thought.

Every second that passed was agony, your mind beginning to race away from you with ‘what ifs’ about everything. Was he uncomfortable with you? What if you were transferred or fired? The thought made your chest ache and finally, the tears began to roll down your cheeks and your breaths grew shallow and fast.

“Hey, hey. (Y/n), look at me. C'mere back to bed.” Aaron's voice brought you from your thoughts and your eyes refocused on the contours of his mature face. He was painfully beautiful. “Will you let me hug you? You're okay. You've nothing to be ashamed of.”

You simply nodded meekly and he breathed, reaching out to you-of which you met him halfway by crawling back onto the mattress- and pulled you over for a warm, ever engulfing embrace, maintaining you at his side respectfully. You let out a whimper as you gripped onto his shirt tightly, whilst his hands held firmly onto your soft body.

“I'm sorry.” You mumbled against his shirt.

“You don't need to be.”

“I had an embarrassing sex dream about you and now you're comforting me for it.”

Aaron held you closer still, resting your head on his chest. Wait- his heart was racing.

“Maybe that’s because I want to.” He said quietly. You pulled back.

“Wh-why?”

He quirked a little grin as one of his hands glided up and down your back soothingly.

“Well, when I said I am no stranger to erotic dreams…” he trailed off and your breath hitched.

No way. Surely he wasn't implying-

“Whatever you're thinking, the answer is yes. I've had my own fair share of…dreams about you.” His eyes were fixed on you as he spoke, and you felt your body trembling. He let out a chuckle. “I've been very lucky this week that somehow I haven't had one, to put things into perspective.”

You stared at him for a moment, then your face broke out into a flustered grin and you giggled.

“Oh! Well I- I didn't expect that, sir!”

With the room light on now you could bear witness to the delightful sight of Aaron's flushed pink cheeks as he grinned bashfully.

“Now you see that you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

You both quietened for a moment, holding one another gently as you studied one another. He really was such a beautiful man. Silently, he leaned down towards you closer still and your breath hitched.

“A-are you gonna kiss me, sir?”

“Mhm, you called me something very different when you were sleeping.” He murmured and you shuddered.

“I…”

“I sure hope you're not about to apologise again to me, sweetheart.” He said as he leaned closer towards your face, eyes gazing down at your lips through his thick lashes. “Because if you are, I'm going to have to put that pretty mouth of yours to better use.”

Your eyes widened and you shivered as your thighs clenched together.

“F-fuck…”

Aaron hummed and cupped your cheeks with his large hands, his thumbs stroking your soft skin.

“May I kiss you, (Y/n)?”

You swallowed thickly.

“Please.” You managed to whisper.

And his lips were pressed against yours a moment later, tender and gentle and sensual as your eyes fluttered shut and your hands came to grab onto the front of his tee shirt. Instinctively, you whined into it and his hands moved, gliding down to your plush waist and gripping onto the flesh. He moved backwards, pulling you with him to straddle his lap and as your clothed slit reached the fabric of his underwear you felt just how much he wanted this from the firm, hot bulge that pressed against the confines of the fabric.

You whimpered as he pulled back barely enough for him to be able to speak, his lips still brushing against yours as he spoke.

“Feel how much I like you, huh? Need you so much, pretty girl.”

You shyly rolled your hips, grinding your mound against the bulge and earning a sharp hiss from the man before you. His hands moved suddenly to grab your ass cheeks, squeezing and melding them and causing you to roll your hips more in response. He groaned against your mouth when his lips met yours again, the second kiss being more heated and desperate; hungry for you. Only when the need for oxygen burned in your chest did you both part once more, but his lips remained on your skin as they travelled along your soft jaw.

“C'mon, tell me about the dream you were having.” He coaxed you, holding your body flushed with his more than ever. You merely whimpered and your hands moved to his hair, messing it up with strands pointing in random directions. Aaron tutted and turned you both over, pinning you beneath him and making you squeal.

“A-alright! I, mmh, wanted you to touch my p-pussy, you had me spread my legs for you.”

Something flared within Aaron's dark eyes and you heard a rumble in his chest; possessive and aroused. His hands gripped your hips and you parted your thighs a little, eager for him. He smirked.

“Oh? Well, we'll build up to that. Wanna ask you a few things first.” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “I wanna know what you're okay with and your limits.”

You sucked your lower lip between your teeth and slowly released it, enjoying the way Aaron's eyes fixated on your mouth.

“J-just as long as you don't do anything too extreme like really hurting me or extremely gross I'm okay. I'm a big girl, I can take it.”

You felt as Aaron's hands slid up to cup your cheeks and he kissed the tip of your nose fondly, making you hum.

“I see, I don't want to hurt you, at least nothing more than if you enjoyed a bit of spanking. How does that sound, hmm?” He said and you shuddered, flashes of the dream you'd had causing you to subtly spread your legs a little wider.

A whine escaped you as you held onto him desperately. “Yes, fuck please!”

Aaron smiled.

“Good girl.”

You shivered and opened and closed your mouth a few times, debating on how to word what you wanted to say next. He quirked a brow.

“What is it?”

“I… well, I love slaps on my ass but I also- fuck, this is embarrassing!” you squeaked, earning a kiss to your forehead, then Aaron brushed his own forehead against yours.

“You don't need to be embarrassed, sweetheart. I'm not here to shame you.”

With a whimper, you blurted it out.

“I really like pussy spanking!”

As the words slipped your mouth the reaction was instantaneous; the man before you jolted forward, his hips bumping against yours and pressing the prominent bulge of his erection against your inner thigh. And it twitched. You made a small noise as he pushed himself up again as he uttered an apology.

“I didn’t mean to do that, I’m sorry.” Aaron said but in response you rolled your hips upwards, chasing the feeling of his arousal against your body.

“I-It’s more than fine, s-Aaron.”

He hummed, pressing his weight down onto you now and his lips brushed over yours.

“So, pussy spanking? I didn’t expect that from you, naughty girl.” He teased you and you shuddered. He chuckled softly and began to slightly grind his bulge against the heat of your clothed slit. “You want daddy to spank your pussy, huh?”

You bit your lip, brows creasing as you nodded at him with a little hum.

“Y-you’re okay with daddy?”

Aaron stroked your cheek and pressed a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth.

“More than okay with it, I assure you.”

With that he pressed his lips to yours properly once more and his large hands travelled down your neck until he grasped your breasts, causing you to gasp in surprise. Aaron took advantage of this, his tongue brushing against your own whilst his fingers pinched and flicked at your erect nipples through your pyjama shirt. All you could do was grip onto his upper arms, the strong muscles tensing as you rolled your hips up against Aaron's bulge and causing much needed friction on your poor clit.

When you both parted for oxygen again, you whined.

“Please-!”

“Aww, please what?” Aaron cooed at you, though it wasn't entirely sincere but rather mimicking your tone. You felt flushed, embarrassed but enjoying it more than you thought you would.

“W-wanna feel your hands on my skin!”

With a hum of approval, you felt as he pulled at the hem of your shirt and you shifted up from the bed just enough for him to be able to pull it off your body, exposing your plush body to him finally. You didn’t have time to clam up and cover yourself with your arms as Aaron gently grasped your wrists and pinned them either side of your head. He exhaled deeply, causing a rumble to vibrate through his chest. His dark eyes roamed over your form and again, you felt his cock twitch.

“Jesus, you’re fucking beautiful.”

Your legs came to clamp around his hips and you tried to curl your knees inwards in a feeble attempt at covering yourself.

“S-sir!” you squeaked. His eyes narrowed and he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

“Careful, if you call me that I may not know what to do with myself when we’re working together.”

Your eyes widened in alarm, but a faint smirk toyed with the corner of his mouth and you relaxed a little. You’d keep that in mind for now. Drawing your attention back to the present, Aaron released his hold on your wrists, only for his hands to glide across your shoulders and down the centre of your chest, teasing you by avoiding touching your nipples. Now, he allowed himself to smile more openly and he drew in a deep breath.

“So soft, so fucking sexy. You’ll let me kiss them, huh pretty girl?” He murmured.

You nodded and offered a brief ‘yes’ and he slid down the bed a little until his face was level with your breasts. You shuddered when his lips made contact with the valley between them, leaving little kisses over the area and starting to sidle over to the right one, his tongue slipping out to swirl around your areola and causing you to arch up into his touch and gasp out. You could feel his lips curl into a smirk as they wrapped around the pert nipple and he sucked it into his mouth, his hand coming to grab your other breast and roll the nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. You moaned softly, moving your hands to sift through the dark locks of Aaron’s hair and mussing it up. When his teeth brushed against the tip your back arched and you tugged on his hair, making him huff a muffled laugh.

With a wet smack of his lips, he pulled away from your now swollen nipple and brushed his lips over the flushed skin.

“You sound so sexy when you moan for me, pretty girl.” He murmured and you let go of his hair to cover your face with your hands, squeaking.

“Shhh! Don't say that!”

Unbeknownst to you, his gaze darkened and suddenly, his hand came down and slapped your inner thigh and startling you with a squeal.

“Aaron!”

His hand slapped your thigh again, closer to your clothed slit.

“What was that, hm?” He said darkly, his hand gripping onto the meat of your thigh, his fingers indenting slightly. You breathed shakily.

“I-I-”

“It’s daddy, got it? Or do you want to be punished?”

You stared into his dark eyes and sucked on your lower lip again, slightly swaying your hips side to side.

“No, daddy. I-I’ll be a good girl.” you whimpered and Aaron hummed softly, moving his hands up to cup your cheeks and brushing his thumbs against your skin.

“That’s right, you’re my good girl.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours again, groaning softly into the kiss and you returned to brushing your fingers through his dark locks. You felt him press his thick bulge against you and you desperately wanted to feel his bare skin against yours. Needed to see it, touch it, taste it…

Aaron grunted in surprise as you shoved him away, only to hear you giggle as you manoeuvred him to lay on his back whilst you knelt at his crotch. His eyes narrowed at you.

“What do you think you’re doing, hmm?” He asked darkly and you leaned down closer to the twitching bulge of his boxers.

“Can I have a taste please, sir?”

Visibly, Aaron’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. He let out a puff of air through his nose and a smirk tugged at his mouth.

“What did I tell you about calling me ‘sir’? You fucking naughty girl.” He gritted, although he wasn’t truly annoyed. You hummed innocently.

“Whoops, I can’t help it, sir. I’m just so used to it.”

Shaking his head but smiling slightly, Aaron raised a brow at you and his body relaxed.

“Well, since you asked so nicely I’ll forgive and forget both you shoving me ah-nd-” His words stuttered when you pressed a little kiss to the tip of his clothed cock and hummed softly at the feeling of the patch of precum staining his boxers touching your lips. “F-fuck…”

You beamed at him between his slightly parted legs, pressing your soft cheek against the bulge affectionately.

“You’re so big, daddy!”

With your newfound confidence, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his underwear and slid them down, eyes wide as they focused on his cock. You heard Aaron hiss when his length finally slipped out, slapping against the lower part of his tee shirt. He was very big. Aaron let out a deep, quiet moan as he studied your expression- you were in awe, almost salivating at the sight of him. You slid down to lay on your stomach, taking hold of his shaft and causing him to hiss sharply. From the hem of his shirt you could see the base of his thick happy trail, the dark hair spreading out across his pubic bone and haloing his cock. With your other hand, you pulled his underwear down further until they reached his mid-thigh and now you had access to his mouth-watering balls too. You whimpered. Aaron felt precum slowly drip down off his tip, soaking into his shirt and leaving a little wet patch.

“You like the look of daddy’s cock huh?”

You nodded and whined out a little “yes” before you nuzzled your face against his cock. Eyes fluttering shut, you slowly opened your mouth and took the oozing tip inside, humming at the taste of his natural body and the slightly salty precum. You heard Aaron swear as you swirled your tongue around the tip, slipping your mouth further down the shaft. You bobbed your head lightly, sucking against his skin and feeling giddiness rise in your chest with every grunt and moan and curse that passed his lips. He tasted so good, addicting and you craved more. With one hand on his shaft, sliding up and down to meet your mouth, the other glided up to his stomach, slipping under his shirt and gripping onto the soft pudge there. You carded your fingers through the thick, dark hair there and felt the muscles under his skin contracting with every suck and lick of his cock. You felt his hands gently grip your scalp and you dug your fingers into his stomach when he began to guide you up and down his length.

“Unnf… that’s it, fuck- such a good fucking girl-” Aaron moaned softly, and you could feel him twitching against your tongue. You took more into your mouth until you felt the tip reach the back, just short of your throat, and you gagged a little. Aaron pulled you off quickly, sitting up to cup your cheeks. “Oh shit, I’m sorry sweetheart. Are you okay?” His eyes searched your face, the saliva dribbling down your chin and the little gasping breaths passing your swollen lips. You grinned.

“Mmh I am. Guess I gotta practice more to build up to that.” You breathed and slid your hand up and down his length. Aaron bucked his hips in surprise, falling back against the pillows with a grunt and causing you to giggle. “Oops~!”

You continued to slide your hand up over the slick tip whilst you kissed down the underside of the shaft until you reached the place where his cock met his balls. You hummed softly, tongue darting out to lick them and causing Aaron to groan deeply from the back of his throat. You could only sneak a couple more kisses before he pulled you away from his cock, grabbing onto your upper arms and hauling you to straddle him. He pressed his lips to yours in a fierce kiss, no doubt tasting himself on your lips, and his hands slid over to your back and encouraged you to grind your clothed slit over his shaft. You whined, feeling the tip bump your clit with the movement and wanting to feel more. Before you knew it, you were trapped beneath him on your back again, gasping in surprise and in turn, allowing his tongue to slip against yours. You felt hot, burning with need for him and craving him to do as he pleased with you so long as you could stay with him.

Aaron reeled back, gazing down at you with a look of pure desire and admiration of you. He reached for his shirt, pulling it up over his head and discarding it without any care and your pupils blew wide at the breathtaking sight of him in his entirety. Your eyes trailed over his form, over every bump and curve, the hair sprouting over his stomach, at every mole and beauty mark. But also at the faded but still raised scars that were scattered all across his body. You hadn’t known him during the threat of Foyet but had heard some of what transpired. But seeing it before you, seeing what physical damage that sadistic man had done to Aaron made your breath hitch. You blinked a few times, both to stop yourself from staring but also to try to clear away the tears welling up. Aaron noticed them though, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose affectionately.

“I’m okay, sweetheart. I promise.” He murmured softly. You nodded, but in the back of your mind you filed this off for a later time. For now, you slid your hand across his torso, feeling his skin under your touch and you kissed the corner of his mouth.

“You’re so handsome, sir. I knew you were already but…”

Aaron chuckled quietly, the tips of his ears evidently red as he cupped your cheek with one of his hands, brushing his thumb over your lips.

“Sweet-talking me, are we? Well, I appreciate it. I feel the same way seeing you.” kneeling back and lightly gripping onto the band of your shorts, he smirked. “Speaking of… shall we get these off you now, pretty girl? Gotta show your cute, little pussy the same amount of love you gave my cock.”

You squeaked, hips twitching upwards into his touch and allowing him to start sliding the shorts down your plush stomach and stretching over your large thighs. At the sight of your pubic mound, Aaron hummed deeply and made quick work pulling the fabric off the rest of the way, too joining the rest of your clothes elsewhere on the floor. You bit your lip, gazing up at him desperately and he chuckled again,

“Mhm, now I recall what you told me earlier from your dream. So,” He leaned back to give you space and gripped his girthy cock with one of his large hands. “Show daddy your pretty pussy.”

Oh fuck, you whimpered as you felt your clit throb at his command. You slid your hands down your body and gripped onto your legs, hooking your hands under your knees, and started parting your thighs for him. The cool air of the room hitting your dewy folds caused you to shiver, and the sight of Aaron jerking himself off to you made you feel confident, more aroused.

“I-is this okay, sir?”

Aaron gripped the base of his cock tightly, groaning a little and shifting forward towards your spread legs.

“God- so fucking pretty. You’ll let daddy touch, won’t you? You’re so wet.” He breathed, eyes focused on your slit.

“P-please-”

“Good girl.”

Letting go of his cock, Aaron instead moved his hands down to part your folds with his thumbs, licking his lips at the sight of your juices coating your skin. You shivered again, rolling your hips in desperation.

SLAP.

You squealed, back arching as the sting of Aaron’s hand impacting with your pussy startled you more than hurt you.

“Daddy!”

“I didn’t say you could keep moving around, little girl.”

Your eyes widened at his sharp tone, staring up at him as he glared. He resumed with his touches, swiping his fingers down from your little bundle of nerves to your leaking entrance. You whimpered, struggling to stay still but you couldn’t stop yourself from twitching. He chuckled and held his hand out to you showing off how much of your juices had stuck to his fingers.

“Would you look at that, little girl. So sensitive… i’ve barely touched you and you’re so jumpy.”

Your eyes widened and your stomach clenched, causing Aaron to pause.

“What is it? Are you alright?” His tone softened and you panicked a little.

“A-ah yes! Don’t worry, I just-” you felt a flush of warmth to your cheeks as you thought of how to word what you were about to say next. “Well, in my dream I was jumpy and you said I was jumpy like a b-bunny.”

For a moment the room was quiet, and you wondered if you had made a mistake. But as you opened your mouth to take back what you’d said, Aaron pinched your clit, making you cry out and buck your hips up.

“Well well, you’re more fucking filthy than I expected. You want me to call you my little bunny, huh?”

You keened up at him, letting out a high pitched noise as you tightened your grip on your legs.

“P-please, daddy!”

With a quiet huffing laugh, Aaron swiped his fingers across your pussy again and leaned down to press a kiss to your pubic mound. You quivered, anticipating what he would do next.

“So soft… Mmh, you smell so good, bunny. Gonna taste you now.” He whispered and slid his mouth lower, brushing his lips over the hood of your sensitive clit. He hummed, sending vibrations through your slit and you choked out, bucking your hips up against his face.

SLAP.

You sobbed out a broken moan with the smack to your pussy again, this time more firmly than the first one.

“Fuck- sorry da- ungh!” you could barely speak, words slurring into a loud moan when Aaron’s tongue swiped from your leaky hole up to your little nub, sucking it into his mouth and releasing it with a tug. He didn’t stop, lapping at the bundle of nerves with his talented tongue and all you could do was try to stop yourself from riding his face. With his slick covered hand, he circled a finger around your entrance and dipped it inside slightly with every round; teasing you. He sucked you back into his mouth again, simultaneously thrusting the finger inside you in one swipe and you wailed.

Your grip on your legs faltered, slipping from your grasp and your feet slammed down onto the mattress. With a growl, Aaron surrounded your clit with his teeth as he pulled his mouth away again and as he did so, his finger slipped back out of your pussy. The sound of his fingers slapping your poor slit resounded around the room, accompanied by your cute squeal.

“You’re a naughty fucking bunny, aren’t you? Can’t keep hold of your legs anymore, huh? Tsk.”

Shoving your legs apart, Aaron thrusted two fingers inside you this time and his mouth devoured your poor clit, the little nub becoming swollen and red from the spanks. With another sob, your hands came to grip at his hair and he growled again, fucking his fingers into you roughly. He would be the death of you, driving you brainless with his touch and you’d thank him for it too.

Two fingers became three, stretching your little pussy open around them as he tortured you with his mouth. You already felt full just with his thick fingers inside you, but you’d seen the girth of his cock and you could only wonder how much it would split you open for him.

“S-so much- Fuck! Daddy, s-so thick~” You whined, feeling your juices drooling out of you with every thrust of his fingers. Aaron pulled off your clit again far enough away to speak.

“You need stretching out so you can take daddy’s cock, bunny.”

He emphasised with a thrust upwards and your hips spasmed, hands gripping the bedsheets either side of you desperately.

“G-ghh fuck!”

His mouth resumed on your mound as his pace quickened, fingers rapidly thrusting in and out of you with a sloshing sound. You felt a burning pleasure building within your lower abdomen, coaxed by his torturous touch and your noises raised in pitch. With the feeling of your walls clamping around his fingers, Aaron smirked around your clit as he knew you were going to cum any moment now. With a light nibble of his teeth and a particular thrust you cried, back arching as you rode his mouth and fingers through your powerful orgasm. But he didn’t let up, continuing your torture until you were keening again. Only then did he relent, pulling off your clit with a wet smack of his lips and he pushed himself up with his spare hand, keeping his fingers of his other hand inside you still. He licked his lips.

“Mhm, you taste real good, bunny.” he smirked, eyes on your heaving chest. You struggled to catch your breath, eyes heavily lidded as you basked in the aftershocks.

“F-fuck, that was…”

“Us only getting started.”

That helped your eyes recover, widening as you stared up at the mischievous look on Aaron’s face.

“Oh fuck.”

He leaned down to kiss you, full of passion as you opened your mouth to taste your juices that lingered on his tongue, but pulled away far too soon and his fingers slipped out of your gushing hole. He cooed at you when you whimpered, pressing one more kiss to your forehead.

“Just gotta get a condom, bunny. You just sit tight for daddy, okay?” He said as he shifted away and clambered off the bed. Your eyes followed his toned rump, the urge to bite it suddenly flooded your mind and you bit your lip. Maybe another time, you thought.

“Why’d you have condoms, daddy? You thinking about fucking me?” You giggled as he grabbed a little foil packet from his go-bag. He turned to you with a glare, stalking over to the bed and crawling towards you on the mattress. Before you could react, his hand came down sharply on your overly sensitive clit and you wailed, body jolting as pleasure and pain spasmed through you.

“Don’t be coy with me, naughty little bunny. I have them for less mess. Which is your doing,” He emphasised with another, lighter slap to your clit, then massaged it with the slightly rough pad of his fingers. “You keep invading my dreams and I have to sort out the problem you cause.”

Oh fuck, you whined as your mind was filled with thoughts of Aaron waking from erotic dreams about you, fucking his fist at the thought of you afterwards.

“G-god that’s so hot, daddy!” you moaned, rolling your hips involuntarily and he grunted.

“It’s been torture, is what it is.” Aaron came to kneel between your spread legs again, this time his hips were flushed with your thighs, and he tore open the little wrapper with his skillful fingers. But as he began rolling the rubber over his thick shaft, his hands faltered and his cock twitched. “Oh god.”

You tilted your head.

“Wh-what’s wrong?”

Aaron didn’t say anything at first as he secured the condom in place, but then he pressed the length down against your squishy stomach and mound and you realised what he was thinking about.

“Look how small you are compared to daddy’s cock.” He marvelled. And he was right. He was so thick, at least three of his fingers in width, with the tip ending at the midway point of your low abdomen. Oh… You felt your pussy clench in anticipation.

“I…I don’t know if it’ll fit, daddy.”

You sucked your lip into your mouth, wiggling your hips as you shifted to get comfortable. Aaron cooed at you.

“Aww don’t worry bunny, daddy will make sure it fits.”

Grasping his cock and shifting back just enough to align the bulbous head with your pussy, he slowly brushed it up and down, using his other hand to spread your lips to expose more of your clit to him as he massaged it with his cock. You were gasping out cute, little noises which only encouraged him to grind more, thrusting over the hood of the sensitive nub with a quiet grunt.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. You ready to take my cock, little bunny?” He rumbled and you grasped for the hand spreading your folds.

“Please, sir! N-need it so badly~” you whined and with a huffed laugh, Aaron angled his cock in line with your oozing entrance.

“Gonna push inside now, bunny. Be a good girl for me-”

You could feel the pressure on your hole. The sensation of his cockhead slowly pushing into you made your eyes widen more and more until suddenly, it slid home and stretched you out deliciously.

“O-oh-!” Your mouth was agape, and Aaron groaned deeply with the sensation of your pussy clenching around his tip. Christ, you already felt full to the brim. But then as his hand slammed down onto the pillow beside your head in an attempt to stay upright, his cock slid in further- easing into you more and stretching you out a little bit at a time. “Fuck!” You moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

His own moan joined yours, deep and sensual and one of the best sounds you had ever heard. He stilled, holding himself up as he waited for you to adjust.

“F-fuck- sorry, sweetheart- you just feel so good I lost my balance for a moment.” He grunted, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You alright?”

You nodded, straining your neck up to press your lips to his cheek over the beauty mark under his right eye.

“I am, don’t worry. Feels so good, I promise.” You murmured softly, smiling up at him. He chuckled and a delightful blush tinted his cheeks.

“Okay, okay. Gonna slide out a bit and try to get a little deeper, bunny.”

Pulling his hips back, you felt his length retreating until only the tip remained, then he lightly thrusted forward with a soft grunt again. Slowly, inch-by-inch he worked his cock inside you, encouraged by your soft moans. And then, you felt his hips press against the back of your thighs, stuffed full of his fat cock. Your eyes were blown wide, whining loudly when you felt the pad of his thumb brush against your clit.

“S-full…” you slurred, hands reaching for Aaron’s arms to grip onto. He was clenching his jaw, resisting the urge to fuck into you until you were ready.

“You take me so well, bunny- fuck!” Your pussy clenched around him from his praising and it took every ounce of his strength not to fall on top of you again.

You felt impossibly stuffed full of him with a dull ache throbbing through your lower abdomen, though not entirely unpleasant.

“P-please…”

“Please, what? Use your words, pretty bunny.” Aaron teased and you whined whilst pushing your hips up at him.

“Please move, daddy!” you finally whined out and he kissed your forehead.

“Good girl.”

Slowly sliding his cock out of you, your pussy clinging to his shaft like a vice grip, he paused when only the tip remained. And then he thrusted forward in one firm movement, spearing you on his length to the hilt. You cried out in time with his grunt, and slowly he picked up a pace. IN and out, in and out, your body jolting in time with every thrust, to which Aaron grabbed onto one of your breasts to leverage himself.

“Feel so fucking good around my cock- fuck- good little bunny-” Aaron grunted and emphasised his words every time he bottomed out, his voice more husky than usual as pleasure burned through his entirety. You could only moan and wail, the pressure of his cock stretching out your hole and the prominent vein running along the topside of his shaft stimulated your clitoris from within.

“S-so much- Aah-Aaron!” You wailed as your words melted into moans, not even paying attention to the fact his name had slipped through. You felt Aaron’s hips stutter and he swore loudly, curling downward and kissing your neck hungrily. His pace quickened, his cock barely pulling out more than halfway now and stimulating the roof of your pussy more thoroughly. But you least expected his hand grabbing your breast to let go, only to slap your poor clit and making you cry out barely lower than a scream. “Sir!”

Aaron pulled upright to glare down at you, still fucking his cock into you roughly,

“That’s not what you called me just now, you fucking naughty girl.” He hissed as he slapped your clit again. You howled, back arching and your legs tried to close but were blocked by his hips.

“Please! I’m sorry, daddy! Feels too good~”

“I haven’t even been fucking you for that long and you’re already this brainless? Fucking filthy.” He spat, rubbing his fingers over you clit rapidly. You writhed beneath him, not caring about having shame as your pleasure began to swell. He scoffed. “I can feel you pulsing. Gonna cum, are you? Go on, cum for daddy like the filthy fucking bunny you are.”

The pleasure was burning now, spreading through your core until you let out a broken moan, grabbing Aaron by the shoulders and pulling him down on top of you, his fingers still rapidly toying with your sensitive nub. It was blinding, no other orgasm had compared to this one before. Being so full of him, surrounded by him, his relentless movements… You were spasming hard, your body trying to shy away from the overwhelming pleasure but Aaron pulled you back with his free hand.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re staying right here, bunny.”

You whined as oversensitivity caused your body to shiver uncontrollably. Aaron finally relented, though still kept you stuffed with his cock and he brushed his lips against your cheek. “You doing okay?” he whispered softly and you nodded, smiling a little,

“God yeah, you’re fucking wild!” You giggled when he huffed out a laugh and nuzzled your cheek against his. “We can keep going, that was just the most intense orgasm I think I’ve ever had.”

“Jeez, well it was certainly the most intense sensation I’ve felt around my cock, I’ll tell you that.”

With one last kiss to your cheek, Aaron pulled back and his demeanour shifted back to being stern and dominant. He eyed the place where you two bodies joined and he hummed.

“Don’t move, daddy wants to check something, ‘kay?”

You whimpered as you felt his cock slowly pulling out of your oversensitive channel but then you squeaked when he pulled the tip out entirely, followed by a gush of your juices. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, pushing your thighs back until you knees reached your chest. “Hold them there.”

You complied immediately, gripping the back of your knees and struggling a little bit with the sweat that had built up there. With his hands free now though Aaron carefully pried your folds apart and he groaned loudly. You twitched.

“Wh-what is it?”

His eyes dragged up to your face and he smirked.

“Wanted to see how much you’d stretched for daddy, bunny. You’re fucking gaping.”

You felt your eyes widen and a full-body shiver coursed through you.

“Oh my god.”

He hummed deeply again, then leaned his body down to swipe his tongue around your slightly gaping entrance. You could barely make a noise before he sat up again and pushed his cock back inside in one quick movement and you gasped loudly. With your knees pressed to your chest it felt as though he pushed impossibly deeper inside you and it made you mewl for him. He was rolling his hips sensually into you, moaning in his sensually baritone voice.

“Fuck… Don’t think I’m gonna last too much longer, sweetheart.” He huffed out when he felt you clenching around him again. You let go of your legs, hooking them over his shoulders and instead grasping hold of his hands.

“S’okay, me neither-”

Aaron’s pubic bone rubbed against your swollen clit, the hair tickling it with the roll of his hips. He squeezed your dominant hand and moved it between your bodies but didn’t let go, instead guiding your circles around the bundle of nerves.

“That’s it, good girl. My fucking good bunny.” He encouraged you. Pleasure was building again rapidly within you, and you turned your head to bite into the pillow cradling your head.

“F-fuck! Please- please!”

Aaron picked up the pace, pulling out just enough to piston in and out of you and his noises raised an octave higher.

“Shit- (Y/n)!” He moaned and that was it for you. Your body shook and quivered almost violently, eyes rolling back into your head as you wailed Aaron’s name. Simultaneously, his cock twitched prominently as he orgasmed, his body tensing aside from his bucking hips. There was no end, your pussy clenching around him in response to his hand guiding your clitoral stimulation, in turn prolonging his own overwhelming pleasure. Before it became all too much, he let go of your hand and both dropped onto the mattress, utterly fucked out.

The room was quiet aside from your mutually heavy breathing and the rush of blood in your ears. You could feel Aaron softening inside you now as the two of you calmed down but you whined and grabbed hold of him when he tried to pull away.

“No, stay!”

“Honey, I’ll collapse on you, and I’ve gotta take care of the condom.” He said softly to which you scowled at him.

“Ugh, but I wanna cuddle.” You protested weakly. He smiled and kissed your forehead.

“You need to pee too, pretty girl.”

You only slightly hated that he was right about that. A few minutes later, with some water and some snacks you had in your go-bag, the two of you cuddled up to one another under the covers, still bare but cosy. Initially, Aaron had protested laying half on top of you as you requested, but quickly accepted it with a light-hearted laugh when you pulled him down onto you and wrapped your limbs around him. It felt natural, as though you’d always been together. And it filled you with butterflies.

You brushed your fingers through his messy, dark hair and studied the beauty of his face when he lifted his head up from your bust to look at you. The corner of your mouth twitched.

“D’you wanna, um, maybe go for coffee sometime?”

Aaron grinned.

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want this to just be, y’know, sex.” You said softly. He pressed a kiss to your chest just below your collarbones lovingly.

“Neither do I. I’d love to go out for coffee with you.”

And you beamed at him, your cheeks tinted with a rosy glow.

The following morning you followed alongside Aaron to the hotel reception area to meet up with the others, eyes still a bit bleary as you blinked rapidly. The others were already waiting for you, it turned out and immediately your stride faltered when you saw the expression on their faces. Oh no.

“Well, well! There you two are!” Derek chortled and you wished the floor would swallow you whole. His eyes fixed on you and he grinned widely. “Hey bunny! Sleep well?”You stopped in your tracks, as did Aaron and he glanced back at you, meeting your eye. You were in for a very long flight home.

Jesus christ that was the longest fucking standalone fic ever. I hope yawl enjoyed it if you stuck around until the end here 😭😭 thank you so much for reading!!!

Tagged people: @tgskitten @hoffmanfan13

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x plus size reader #hotch smut #nsfw.#aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction

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psychedelic-ink · 5 months

Text

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒

ㅤㅤghostface!mike schmidt x afton daughter!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, dark content, ghostface au

word count: 4.5k

summary: how were you supposed to know one of your closest friends was also the one in desperate need for revenge?

warnings: dubcon (this can also be considered noncon to some since there's the fear of death in place so if that's not your thing please don't read), knife use, manipulation, voyeurism but no one actually sees, daddy kink, piv, blowjob, nonconsensual somnophilia, male masturbation, reader doesn't know what william did, dirty talking, creampie

a/n: a day late but happy thanksgiving everyone 🖤 i am thankful for my josh hutcherson phase (normally I was going to post this yesterday but oh well you get it)

**dividers made by @saradika xx

How long has it been since you came here? How long has it been since you witnessed the clean beige exterior that now looked more suffocating than liberating?

You observe the dust over the picture frames as you drop the suitcases, the sudden release of weight making your back bend back like a bow. You stare for a while. Your dad had bought this particular vacation home ages ago. Ironically he had done it so the family could spend some quality time together over the summers. That was before the incident. Before your mom left, only leaving you and him.

Now the dirt outside was muddy from the pouring rain. Leaves turning to mush under the pressure of tires and boots. You hear the faint sound of the car door closing. Moments later Mike stands behind you. You can feel his breath tickling the back of your neck. It soothes you.

“So this is the famous summer house huh?” he looks around, not bothering to close the door behind him, he takes a step further. “God, it’s cold in here. Please tell me there’s a heater somewhere.”

“Probably in the basement. Remind you this place wasn’t meant for winter.”

“Yeah I can see that from the windows,” he turns and finally closes the door. “It’s a bit eerie that anyone might just watch us from down there.”

You scoff, “Who’s gonna watch? This house is the only one. Besides it’s just a couple days.”

Your dad was finally selling the place. Meaning you had limited time to pack the things you wanted to keep before the rest was torn out. You knew packing all the old pictures would be overwhelming so you asked Mike to join and he was more than eager to help out—which was a bit surprising but you were grateful nonetheless. He was always kind to you. Always so gentle. He made your heart jump whenever he looked into your eyes, observing, searching them for something more. You never knew what he was searching for.

Mike walks ahead with just his backpack, he’s wearing all black: black hoodie, black pants, black jacket. . . he’s completely contrasting his surroundings. He turns to you with rounded eyes and you melt a little.

“So where am I staying?”

“Let me show you,” It’s odd being in the halls again, you remember them feeling endless when you were a kid. The floor underneath you creaks. “Luckily we have a bunch of rooms. I don’t know what my parents were thinking, it’s not like we entertained a lot of guests.”

“Well, it worked out in the end. Now I have a place to say.”

“Silver lining,” you agree, showing his room. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to head to bed and we can brainstorm where to start in the morning.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he steps inside the room and you can’t help but be reminded of how out of place he looks. “Good night.”

“Good night, Mike.”

He stands at the door with furrowed brows and downturned lips. Not that it’s important what his expression is. It’s not like anyone can see it underneath his mask. The mask that he’d bought last second. It is now or never. And this is his chance to avenge his brother, his broken family. This is the solution to all of it.

It doesn’t help that you’re soundly sleeping. Your lips slightly parted, more skin showing with each rise and fall of your chest. Mike takes a step further inside. The wind howls against the naked windows. Yet, your room managed to stay warm. You turn around to lay on your back and he sees you parting your legs underneath the comforter. His cock grows hard at the sight, he’d love to take you right now. Fuck you until you gasp awake, your sweet cunt dripping with arousal—you’d tell him to stop, not recognizing who he is and he’d go on until you’re creaming around him. Your body becoming sweaty and warm.

Mike licks his lips and rubs a palm over the outline of his cock. His eyes search your room. You hadn’t unpacked yet. Your suitcase open with clothes pouring out the edges. You probably just picked that flimsy shirt you were wearing and headed to bed. He slowly walks to the pile of clothes, within, he finds a pair of black lace underwear. Mike picks it up. A gloved thumb follows the patterns of delicate flowers. His lips curl upward, just what you were planning on doing with him here? In your old family home where it’s just the two of you?

He stands at the edge of your bed. He’s amazed at how much he can get away with without waking you. It’s amazing how much you trust him without a second thought.

Too bad he doesn’t trust you.

With your panties, he fists his cock, the fabric catches against the head prompting the jerk of his hips. He strokes himself fast and hard. Precome seeping into the delicate fabric. His eyes are glued to your lips, the pacing of your breath, your body that’s sprawled underneath the sheets. His cock twitches. Balls tightening as he imagines the sounds you would make for him with a knife against your throat and him deep inside your cunt.

The smallest of groans manage to escape him as he spills into his fist and the fabric, thick ropes of come staining your panties, he inches closer. Hips stuttering helplessly while wishing to see himself dirty your pretty parted lips. He knows he will soon enough. He sees the way you look at him, how desperate you are for affection and a sense of belonging. Mike enjoys the sense of control he has over you. It makes it all that much more sweeter.

He’ll take you. Break you. And pull you back together again.

He’ll ruin William Afton’s precious little girl.

You’re blessed with a little bit of sun today. Bits of dust sway in the air, boxes upon boxes standing around you and Mike. Two empty coffee cups lay idly on the floor. You slept like a baby last night, which was something you hadn’t expected, yet when you woke up you felt a bit off. Your door was open for starters. And you definitely remember closing it. Mike had just shrugged it off, saying that you were tired and probably forgot.

Which is likely, now that you think about it.

Mike picks up one of the framed photos of you and your dad. Despite the sunlight filling the living room, a chill settles over your skin. He observes the photo longer than necessary. Then he traces the engraved name underneath the picture.

“Afton,” he murmurs. “I keep forgetting you’re an Afton.”

He doesn’t let go of the picture as his eyes meet yours, you don’t like the look in them. He almost seems angry.

“What does it matter?” you say in a sheer tone. “It’s not like it means anything whether I’m an Afton or not.”

“I’d beg the differ. And I know some other people would too.”

Mike places the photo in a box, eyes dropping to the floor. Heat rises to your cheeks. You’re confused. Very confused. “Are talking about Freddy Fazbear’s? You know I don’t like talking about that Mike.”

“No need to get defensive. I’m just saying that your surname isn’t nothing,” he gives you a small smile but it does little to calm your nerves. “You were never suspicious of him?”

“Of what?”

He gives you a blank stare, “Of the murders.”

Your mouth opens and very promptly snaps shut. Mike was never interested in this before. He hadn’t even asked about it, not once. Your shoulders drop and your heart feels heavy in your chest—Were you ever suspicious of him? Of your own father? To be fair you never thought about it. You shut your eyes and plugged your ears. You never wanted to think about that wretched pizzeria and all the things that happened in it.

Your stomach jumps when he reaches out, curling his palm over the slope of your knee. You release a long breath.

“Sorry for bringing it up,” he says, his eyes now soft. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“That’s okay.” It wasn’t. You get up, feeling the weight of his gaze as you do. “Alright, I think I’m gonna take a brisk shower then we can make pasta or something.”

“I can start on that,” he answers. “Pesto or marinara?”

“You can pick. I’m fine with either.”

He nods and you leave before he stands. You feel icky all over. The dust and the sudden reality check about your father’s pizzeria and his role in all that had happened make you desperate to scrub yourself clean.

You swiftly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, giving it a hard shove until you hear the satisfying click. The inside smells of lavender.

You strip and throw your clothes into the washing machine. The water warms up easily when you step inside. You draw the curtain shut and sigh at the clean water caressing your skin. Warm showers are the solution to everything. Even daddy issues. You begin to wash your hair, a soft moan dropping from your lips as you massage your scalp. The water trickles down your neck and between your breasts. With soapy hands, you give yourself a firm squeeze and graze your thumbs over the pebbled nipples.

“That’s nice,” you sigh, hands moving up to rinse your hair. Maybe after the shower you can lay down and treat yourself until lunch is ready. Your vibrator’s fully charged, and the prospect of Mike hearing the faint buzz of it makes your pussy throb.

Just as you reach for the loofah a soft click echoes in the steamy room.

Your body tenses. Your heart suddenly beating a mile a minute.

Your eyes turn in the direction of the door but you can’t see well with the curtain. All you see is the blurry darkness of the hall thanks to the open entrance. “Mike?” you call out, voice trembling. “If that’s you it’s not funny.”

Of course, it’s not him. Even from here, you can smell the pasta sauce. Pesto. You desperately search for any kind of weapon you can use but all you see are shampoo bottles and the loofah you’re currently holding. You swallow. Turning back to the curtain, you see a faint shadow. It tilts its head.

You need to attack. Need to do something before they do. How did they even get in here?

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

But you’re frozen with fear as the stranger curls their fingers around the shower curtain. The rest happens suddenly. The curtain is ripped open and you see who it is—Mostly. You see the mask, two pitch-black eyes staring back at you. Instead of screaming you jump away, the porcelain slips from underneath you, you fall and as soon as you do, you’re swallowed by darkness.

Your eyes flutter open. There’s a sharp sting against your forehead.

“Thank god you’re awake.”

“M—Mike?”

Your vision stops shaking and you finally see him. Mike, and his two soft brown eyes staring down at you. He’s holding a ball of cotton, the white stained by a bit of red. “What. . .” You attempt to get up but quickly forgo your decision when your head throbs. Mike clicks his tongue and presses the cotton to your head, your eyes tear up as it stings, but it slightly subsides seconds later. Looking down, you notice a towel was thrown over you.

“I should be asking you that, how the hell did you slip?”

“I. . . I didn’t.”

“What do you mean you didn’t?”

“There. . there was someone in the shower,” Your blood freezes as you remember. “He. . .I think it was a he? He was wearing a mask and he opened the curtain and fuck—I was so scared Mike.”

Your arms move on their own and wrap around his neck, pulling him close. It takes him only a second to mimic your movement, wrapping his arms around your cold shivering body. His fingers trace your spine. A pleasant shiver runs up your back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now,” he murmurs. “But. . . the door was closed.”

What? “What?” You shake your head as you pull away from him, ignoring the towel slightly sliding lower. “There’s no way. How did you see me then?”

“Well, I shouted for you but you didn’t respond. Then I knocked and you didn’t respond again. The door wasn’t locked so I let myself in.”

“And you found me unconscious? No one was here?”

“Only you.”

You shudder. That’s absolutely terrifying.

“Come on let’s. . .” he swallows and you notice his eyes lingering where your towel has fallen. The swell of your breasts exposed. Looking away, you pull the fabric up and properly wrap it around yourself. His eyes move up to meet your gaze. “Let’s get you dressed and then we can eat.”

Your last night here. Finally.

After the unfortunate fall in the shower, you never managed to shake the feeling of being watched in your own house. You didn’t say anything to Mike but you knew he saw how freaked out you were from your eyes, by the way you would jump at every sound. Every time you closed your eyes you saw the stranger’s mask—those damn black sockets and open mouth staring back at you. It didn’t help that every morning you found your door wide open. You could’ve sworn that you closed it. But without fail, the door was open in the morning.

And you’re so grateful to be done with it all.

Stacks of boxes stand tall near the door. You were adamant about having everything ready tonight so that as soon as the sun peaked through the two of you could leave. Which was why you had ordered Mike to pack his suitcase— you’re doing the same, folding clothes with shaky hands and hoping the morning would come faster.

Throwing your shirt into the suitcase your brows furrow, “What the hell?” you murmur as you lower yourself to your knees. The drawers and closet are emptied out, so why the hell do you only have three pairs of underwear?

Sweat beads at your forehead. With panic, you rummage through the neatly folded clothes. You don’t care about the mess or the fact that you’ll have to fold them again—why can’t you find the other pairs?

You’re completely defeated as your entire body deflates. Just three. You remember packing ten. They’re gone. All gone. Stolen.

Your heart lurches and you feel it beating in your throat. You want to leave. You want to leave. You want to leave.

The phone rings.

It’s loud and booming. Your eyes shot towards the hallway. It’s the landline. A phone that hadn’t been used for god knows how long. You weren’t even aware that it was still connected.

You blink rapidly, forcing the sting of tears to fade. You stand on shaky legs as you head towards the phone in the living room. You vaguely hear Mike mumbling a melody that’s familiar but also not at the same time.

You stare at your reflection in the widows as you pick up the phone. Normally you’d appreciate the view. The dark sky, the swaying pine trees. But not today.

You clear your throat, “H—Hello?”

You hear a faint static, a low internal breathing, then the silence talks back, saying your name. You shudder at the rasp in his voice, fear weighing you down and gluing you to the floor. “Who is this?” you ask.

“You know who I am,” he murmurs and takes a deep inhale. “We’ve met before remember? That moment in the bathroom.” Your body freezes all over, he chuckles, then speaks as if reminiscing a fond memory. “You looked so amazing. Nipples hard, body wet. Were you touching yourself?”

You remain silent, eyes glued to the hall that is lit by Mike’s room. You want to call out. You really do. But you’re terrified.

“Was it him you were thinking about?”

“That’s. . .” you swallow. “That’s none of your business.”

“Everything you do is my business,” he snaps but then the harsh baritone of his voice quickly softens. “Fine. Don’t. I know the answer anyway.”

“What do you want?”

“I want the truth, Miss Afton.” Your breath catches, your knees begin to shake. “Just answer my question and maybe you won’t die.”

You remain silent and you hear the smile in his voice, “Good girl. Now, do you know your father is a murderous piece of trash? Yes or no?”

You close your eyes, shake your head, you can’t answer. “Fine,” he huffs. “Do you think you deserve to live?”

“I. . .” Your mouth goes dry and your fingers tighten around the phone. “I do.”

Honestly, you’re not sure if you believe that.

“Oh, I’m sorry but that’s just not correct,” he answers with a melodic lilt. “You don’t deserve anything. Why should your life matter more than the other kids that were killed by your father?”

“It shouldn’t.”

Your voice barely comes out in a whisper now. Your eyes drop to the floor, maybe if you run and get to Mike in time you can save you both?

“Is your dad a killer yes or no?” then he adds. “You better answer correctly this time.”

“I don’t know,” you say this time, he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

“Wrong.” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath you open them again. All you see is your reflection. “I’ve been watching you,” he says. “You sleep like a log. I watched you. Fucked my fist while you were sleeping soundly, dreaming of sunshine and rainbows,” he sighs. “Or whatever the fuck girls like you dream about.”

You’re appalled by the sudden gush of wetness that courses through you. You shake your head, trying to push the images away. “Please don’t do this,” you beg.

He stops speaking for a good while, for a second you think he hung up, but then you hear his breath in your ear and know that he’s still there. “I keep forgetting.”

“Forgetting what?”

“That you’re an Afton.”

Your heart drops to the pits of your stomach. Every fiber of skin burning and tingling with the realization. You’ve heard those words before. You’ve heard the hidden accusation in them. Your ear burns from the phone pressed against it, you press it harder, not wanting to miss a second of dialogue. Your lips brush against the plastic as you do.

“Mike?”

The line goes dead. Silent. And you realize you preferred words coming from the other line. Tortorously slow, as if in a dream, you place the phone back in its cradle. You feel him before you see him. Your head turns. You feel every muscle pulling as you do.

And there he is.

The man with the mask.

“Mike?” you say again with less conviction. He tilts his head, not moving, not saying anything. Your body stiffens and your eyes drop to his hands where you see the sharp edge of a knife. You drag your gaze back to the mask, hoping that you’re staring into his eyes, “Why?”

He takes a step forward and you take a step back. You’re inches away from the wide windows. “I had a brother,” he says, you’re surprised to find yourself relaxing upon hearing his voice. “I’ve tracked down the suspects. Looked at similar cases for years. Every bit of information leads to Afton.”

“I had nothing to do with it.”

Another step. The glass is cool underneath your palms.

“You father did,” he answers. He stands only an inch away now, your stomach jumps when he presses the sharp edge of the knife against your neck. You hold your breath. “The day he took him is the day I lost everything. My family shattered. All because of him. And now. . .” Mike presses the knife harder, a hint of pain blossoming from where he’d cut. Your eyes snap shut. “Now I’ll take his little girl. Eye for an eye.”

“Mike, please,” you whisper. Then you say something that surprises you both. “Take off the mask. If I’m going to die, I want to see you.”

He tenses but obliges anyway. The mask falls to the floor, his hair mussed, soft curls fall over his forehead. A bit of stubble on his chin from not shaving at all since you two arrived. He doesn’t look scary, not at all. He looks vengeful, yes, but the softness in his eyes is still there.

“What are you going to do to me?”

Mike’s nostrils flare as he inhales, he exhales through parts lips, you feel his warm breath on your skin. “I’m going to ruin you.” The knife is replaced with his hand, he squeezes your throat, pulls you away from the glass, and slams you into it. “You’re mine now. I own you.”

You shudder as he lets you go, his hands fumble with his jeans, and the fabric pools at his ankles. “Get on your knees and suck daddy’s cock.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed but do as you’re told anyway. You drop to your knees. His cock achingly hard in front of you. He holds himself and drags the wet tip across your lips. He slides the underside of his cock against your face and without thought you dart your tongue out, tasting him. Mike groans, the sound rattling in his chest. With no warning given, he slips his cock between your lips and stops halfway. Your eyes water at how thick he is.

When you look up you see he’s holding his phone, camera directed at you with his cock in your mouth. “Sorry,” he says with a faint smirk. “I need a souvenir to remember how good you look with my cock in your mouth. Who knew Afton’s precious daughter was such a slut.”

Your eyes flutter as he shoves the phone back into his jacket pocket. He cradles your head and starts fucking himself deep into your mouth. “You know,” he rasps. Mike pushes himself especially deep and smiles broadly when you choke around him. “You really should be thanking me for not slitting your throat during all the nights I watched you.”

He suddenly stops and pulls out until it’s only the head between your lips. His cock throbs on your tongue, he forces your gaze up to him, “Thank me for not slitting your throat.”

“Thank—” It’s hard to speak with him still between your lips. You swallow and try again, your nipples tight. “Thank you for not slitting my throat.”

“Such an obedient girl,” he muses. “I’m going to fuck you in every corner of this house. Get up—”

He says that but lifts you himself, impatient, he presses you against the window, your cheek smushed against the clear surface. Your neck strains a little. His breath caresses the back of your neck, his lips on your ear, “Time to pay for your father’s sins.”

Mike lifts your shirt and pulls down your sweats. His cock lays heavy above the small of your back. Warm and wet. You clench as he pushes you forward, your breasts fully pressed against the glass. He kicks your legs apart, holding your arms back, Mike slips inside you with ease. Your breath halts in your throat. You only feel pleasure. You drip down his length, and with a groan, he buries himself to the hilt.

“I knew you’d been waiting for this,” he groans. “So fucking wet—”

“M—Mike—”

He clicks his tongue and cocks his head to the side, his forehead brushing against the back of your head. “Not Mike.”

“Daddy,” you moan as he pulls out and slams back in. You choke. “Daddy—”

Mike fucks into your harder, the sound of skin against skin echoes in the room, wet squelches following. Your knees shake as you find yourself completely immobile against the glass. His fingers curl around your neck and he yanks your head back, hips relentless.

“Look at that, anyone could see you now. I wish we had an audience.” Your cunt squeezes him like a vice, his hips stutter forward, a sharp moan rattling in his throat. He laughs. “Does that turn you on?” Helpless, you nod. “That’s it, take it. Daddy’s whore.”

“Kiss me—please—”

The plea takes him by surprise, he stops, hand tensing around your neck, you feel the pulse of his cock deep inside you. He drags his hips down your neck and teases you with his teeth. Goosebumps rise over your skin. And finally—finally—those perfect plush lips meet your own. It’s cruel really. The red strings of fate that tie you two together. You’re still not sure what to make of it all. Or of him. But you surrender. You surrender to his mouth and tongue. Mike swallows you whole. His tongue moves lavishly over yours, sliding and sucking as he presses harder inside you.

“Gonna come inside,” he breathes into your mouth. His hand drops between your legs, your body shaking as he draws tight circles around your clit.

Mike’s lips meet your throat, gentle then ravenous, making their way to the blankets of your clavicle, scraping the delicate skin. You arch against him, pleasure building, craving more. He thrusts harder, deeper, the pleasure increasing with each movement. His fingers grab your hips, and you can feel yourself tightening around him, his cock slamming against your core inside of you. Obscene sounds come from where he’s playing with your clit. You feel like a rag doll. And soon the coil snaps, you’re falling.

Your entire body goes tense, his name leaving your lips in an urgent plea as the pleasure overtakes you. You shake and tremble, Mike continues to hammer into you, hand leaving your core and bracing itself near your head. Briefly, you manage to look outside. See the darkness that looms over the forest. Then you notice his reflection in the glass, eyes meeting yours.

He smiles.

Mike moans loudly, lips parting, his hips stutter over and over, spilling himself inside. Your eyes roll back, a whimper falling from your mouth as you take all of it. He holds himself there until his come starts to drip from where he stretches you. Your forehead finds purchase on the glass. Cold and soothing. His lips brush the back of your neck.

“You look so tired already but we’re not done yet,” he parts your lips with his fingers and pushes them inside. Teary, you find his eyes in the reflection once more. He’s pleased. “I was serious in what I said, Miss Afton. I own you, now.”

“Mike. . .”

“And no matter where you run off to,” he murmurs, cutting you off. A hint of annoyance in using his name. “I’ll always come back.”

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x fem!reader #mike schmidt x f!reader #dark mike schmidt #ghostface au #ghost face!mike schmidt #josh hutcherson character fanfic #fnaf fanfic #five night at freddy's fanfic #tw daddy kink #tw dubcon

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honeyedmiller · 6 months

Text

Checkmate | Joel Miller

pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader

warnings: dbf!joel, age gap (reader is late 20’s, joel mid 40’s), reader is depicted as shorter than joel but otherwise has no other physical description (picture in mood board is for aesthetic purposes only), mutual pining, making out, smut (thigh riding, brief mentions of f oral receiving, unprotected [bc] piv, slight cockwarming, riding), reader’s best friend’s name is hailey, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

huge thank you to my baby @party-hearses for beta reading this for me. i love you to a million pieces 🖤

a/n: also this is my 900 follower celebration?! i still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people follow me and enjoy what i reblog / write. i love u all so, so much. i also feel kinda bad bc i hyped this one shot up a lot only for the smut to not be that descriptive, but this is more about joel and reader’s feelings than what they essentially do with each other. hope y’all still enjoy it :’)

word count: 4.6k

synopsis: you and your dad’s best friend play a dangerous game, and one of you ends up losing faster than you both anticipated.

dividers by the lovely @saradika

You wiped your sweaty brow on your forearm as you lugged a fifth box into your new apartment. You’d finally saved up enough to move out of your parent’s place. Your master’s degree had paid off after all, landing you a job in the heart of Austin, Texas. You were only a thirty minute drive from your parent’s house, which your mom totally loved. She couldn’t wait to help you decorate your place and hand you down the pots and pans that’d been in the family for quite some time.

The move wasn’t necessarily a tough one, because you were ready to get out of your parents’ hair. You all got along well, but you were dying for your own privacy and space that you could call your own. You couldn’t be happier now that you had it.

In the midst of the move, your dad insisted he’d phone his best buddy, Joel. You’d only heard about him a handful of times while you were away at college, and in the months you’d been back with your parents, your dad always went over to his house to watch sports or hang out. When the whole family was invited over to his house for barbecues, you always found yourself either already having other plans with your friends, or you were working. Today was finally the day you’d meet the mystery man that is Joel Miller.

And that’s when you saw him. Tall, broad, ruggedly handsome, body clad in an army green shirt that showcased his biceps and veiny forearms, dark jeans that showed off the muscle of his thick thighs, and scuffed up boots from plenty of days, weeks, hell–months of hard work that added an inch or two to his already towering height.

He must’ve been in his forties if you had to guess. His dark brown hair was dusted with slight specs of gray, the scruff on his jawline mirroring the hair on his head. His nose was strong, and was perfectly fitted with his face. He had dark brown eyes that were kind yet held some kind of sternness—a look that made your panties easily dampen. His mustache framed his lips that were pursed into a slight frown, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like all over your body.

He looked at you just the same, all but hungry eyes roaming your body as he caught a glimpse of you for the first time. Like a damn deer caught in headlights.

He was your dad’s best friend?

Oh, you were truly, utterly, royally fucked.

You introduced yourself to him and he shook your hand, the calloused pads of his fingers meeting your soft skin sending a string of butterflies through your stomach.

You genuinely don’t think you’d ever been this attracted to someone at first glance.

After he and your dad helped you move all of your stuff into your new place, you’d concluded two things: one, Joel Miller was a man of very few words–at least, around you that is, and two: you were sure he was attracted to you just as you were to him.

Was it so wrong to want someone a little bit older? Perhaps not. What was wrong was that he’s your dad’s best friend. You shouldn’t want someone like that. Someone you were absolutely sure could handle you in the best way possible.

About a month after you’d finally gotten settled into your apartment, you invited your best friend Hailey over a movie night and a glass of wine. You told her about your predicament, to which she couldn’t help but be the little devil on your shoulder and encourage you to go after Joel.

“Look, I know he’s your dad’s best friend n’ all, but what he doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?” She questions, legs tucked underneath her body as her lips curl into a sly grin before she takes another sip of her wine.

“I mean yeah, but I’ve never done something like this before. An older man, who’s closely acquainted with my dad? I oughta be out of my damn mind.” You sigh, rubbing your temple.

“Live a little, babe. You’ve been a good kid to your parents your whole life. It’s time you do something for you for once and go after it. Make a subtle move on him next time. That might spice things up a bit.” She suggests, pursing her lips.

“You’re right. But if I make a move and it backfires, I’m completely fucked and I’m moving to the other side of the country.” You laugh exasperatingly.

She reaches over to pat your thigh softly. “Only one way to find out.”

You hadn’t seen Joel as of late, but you weren’t phased by it. It’d been a really busy couple of weeks at work, and you were joining your coworkers tonight for a celebratory t.g.i.f. drink.

Hailey was over at your apartment getting ready with you and you both were already two shots of tequila in. You weren’t much of a drinker, but truth be told, you needed this night out.

“So I’m either between this dress or this one.” You explain to Hailey, and she studies the options you held up for her to thoroughly inspect. It was either between a black satin mini dress with sparkly straps, or a strapless maroon bodycon dress

“This one,” She points at the black dress. “With your red kitten heels.”

You toss the maroon dress onto your bed and take the black one off of the hanger, changing into the dress after Hailey goes to pour herself another shot. You slip aforementioned heels on and give yourself a once over in your full body closet mirror, satisfied with your appearance.

You wanted to look and feel hot tonight, and it was safe to say you achieved just that. Maybe you’d pick up some hot guy at the bar tonight. He may not be no Mr. Miller, but anyone to take the tension of the past couple of weeks away would suffice.

You were applying one last layer of lipgloss when Hailey’s knuckles rapped on your door twice, head peeking into your bedroom.

“Uber’s here. Let’s go get fucked up.”

You laugh at her enthusiasm, hot on her trail as you locked up and headed down to your Uber.

The ride was only fifteen minutes before you pulled up to the bar that was already packed. You both slipped inside, spotting your coworkers at a table. They were laughing about something when you and Hailey walked up, and they all cheerily greeted you with hugs.

It wasn’t long before the DJ was playing some line dancing songs, and multiple people made their way to the dance floor to move their bodies. You and Hailey were the only ones left at the table as you laughed at your coworkers trying to keep up with the beat of the song.

“Mr. Hottie over there has been checking you out for some time now.” Hailey leaned into you, nudging your side with her elbow as she jutted her head toward a man at the bar.

You felt your body drained of warmth as you saw none other than Joel Miller standing at the end of the bar, sipping on his beer tentatively. His eyes were locked on you, and the stupid butterflies rumbled around in your stomach once more.

“Hailey, that’s him.” You say, swallowing thickly.

“Who?” She gives you a questioning look, the drinks she’s had tonight making her mind a bit fuzzy.

“My dad’s best friend. That’s Joel.” You say, and her eyes nearly bug out of her head.

“Oh, girl, if you don’t make your move I’ll force you to make one. He’s a fucking hunk.”

Your eyes trailed back over to him, taking in his appearance. He switched out the green t-shirt for a gray one, dark wash jeans, and the same boots he wore when he showed up to help you move into your place.

The way he was looking at you made you want to do extremely sinful things with him. Fuck. Now or never.

“I’ll be back.” You tell Hailey, and her expression brightens up and cheers you on as you slip off of your seat.

You saunter over to Joel, drink in hand, and you sip on it through the straw as you approach him. He looks down at you amused, eyes nearly black as he scans you from head to toe.

“You stalking me now, Mr. Miller?” You tease, leaning up against the bar top.

Joel scoffs a laugh and sips on his beer once more. “Y’think I don’t have something better to do with my time than to see where you are on a Friday night?” He retorts, but it wasn’t mean. You were sober enough to hear the hint of playfulness in his tone.

“Mm, not really.” You shrug, feigning an innocent smile up at him.

So you could be a brat. He bet he could fix that attitude in no time.

He chuckled at his own thoughts, finishing off his beer as he set the empty bottle down on the sticky bar top.

“You caught me, darlin’. Any woman as ravishing as you is worth stalkin’.” The slight curl of his lip made you smile. You sipped on your drink some more as you watched the patrons of the bar dancing to the current song. Your eyes avert back up to his gaze, and you step closer to him.

His eyes move down to your glossy lips wrapped around the straw, wishing so badly that your lips were wrapped around something else right at that moment.

“What brings you here tonight, Mr. Miller?” You ask, reaching a hand out to touch his bicep. His body goes rigid at your touch, and you fear you’ve gone too far so your hand immediately drops. Joel does a quick scan of the bar before wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his sturdy body.

“My brother’s best friend’s birthday.” He shrugs, and you nod. You felt like a fucking hummingbird with how fast your heart was beating, and you were sure Joel could feel it with the close proximity between the two of you.

The air became thick and heavy. Your breathing accelerated, looking up at Joel and into his lust-clouded eyes. His grip on your waist tightened in the slightest, and you nearly whimpered as you felt his bulge through the denim fabric of his jeans.

“Joel.” Your voice was merely a whisper, and he smirked down at you.

“Care to line dance, darlin’?” He asked nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrowed as disappointment shot through you. Were you reading the situation wrong?

“I don’t really know how.” You say, setting your now watered-down drink on the counter.

“I’ll teach you.” He shrugs, grabbing your hand and dragging you onto the dance floor. He showed you step by step how to move, but your mind was so hazy with lust that you could barely even focus.

It’d been months since someone touched you in an intimate way, and the burning need and desire was aflame through your body. All you could think about was Joel’s hands and tongue on you as you moaned his name. The thought nearly made you pout.

“You even listenin’ to me?” Joel pulls you out of your daydream, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. He was teasing and holding out on you and he knew it.

His face held pure amusement as he watched you squirm under his stare uncontrollably, fidgeting like a little kid on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to stop by.

“I’m gonna go get another drink.” You sigh, walking back to the table Hailey was waiting at.

“What happened?” She asks, looking behind you at Joel who was burning a hole in the back of your body.

“No idea. Guess I’m not getting lucky after all.” You shrug with a disappointed huff of a laugh. You looked back to see if Joel was still there, but he seemed to have disappeared.

You grabbed your purse and made your way to the bar, leaning over it. The back of your dress rode your thighs significantly, barely covering your ass at this point. Before you could get the bartender’s attention again, you felt a hand on your shoulder pull you back and press you into their body. You were about to mouth off on this person before you realized it was Joel.

“Fuck, c’mon.” His hand slid down to your wrist, gently tugging it. You looked at Hailey as you started to follow Joel and pointed at him discreetly, and she gave you a thumbs up.

Joel led you out into the cool air of the night, immediately chilling your whole body. Goosebumps raised onto your skin as he led you to his truck, your heels clicking against the unevenly paved asphalt.

“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask as you stop in front of a dark truck.

“I’m about to give us what we both want.” He said before trapping your body against his truck and between both of his strong arms that landed on either side of you. You cocked an eyebrow up at him, eyes and lips glossy underneath the dim parking lot lights.

“Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ doin’ this.” Joel murmurs before leaning down, smashing his lips with yours. You moan softly into the kiss, carding your fingers into his longer locks. You give the ends a slight tug and he moans into your mouth. You feel the arousal pool in your panties and your untouched core starts to throb. You whine into the kiss, and Joel takes that as an opportunity for his tongue to invade your mouth.

He tastes like mint now, probably having popped an altoid in his mouth before coming back to get you from the bar. His hands travel downwards and find purchase on your thighs underneath the dress, rubbing circles into your soft skin. He starts to rut his hips into yours, the bulge in his jeans catching onto your clothed clit deliciously.

“Joel, please.” You choke out as his lips disconnect from yours, hot kisses traveling down your neck and onto your collarbone.

“Please what, baby?” He asks, voice raspy and muffled as he breathes against your neck.

“Need you. Fuck, please, just touch me.” You don’t care how desperate you sound to him at this moment. His touch left a trail of flames everywhere his hands landed, and you couldn’t get enough.

Joel wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the back door of his truck, opening it and helping you slide in. He got in right after you, closing and locking the doors. Your chest was rapidly heaving up and down, trying to catch your breath from the intense moment.

Joel didn’t give you much leeway, though, because as soon as he spread his legs to get comfy in the backseat, he was pulling you on top of him. You closed the gap between you two this time, rutting your hips forward so your heat sat right on top of his bulging crotch. He groaned lowly, looking down to where your dress had ridden up. He saw your pink lace panties that you had on, and god were you grateful you chose to wear those tonight.

Joel hummed in appreciation as he slid his calloused hands up the smooth skin of your thighs, looking back up to meet your gaze. Your lipgloss was nearly gone off of your lips and onto Joel’s, and he had to admit he liked the sticky cherry flavor.

“Your daddy would kill me with his bare hands right now if he saw what I was doin’ with his darlin’ daughter.” Joel chuckles, shaking his head.

“That’s why he won’t find out,” You shrug. “Besides, I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions and decide what I want… and what I want is you, Mr. Miller.”

Joel raises an eyebrow and huffs a small laugh. “That right?” He questions, grip getting slightly tighter on the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Mhm.” You nod, hand cradling the back of his head.

“What we’re doin’—this is bad.” Joel chastised, mostly to himself.

“Relax, Joel. I won’t tell if you won’t.” You twirl the hair at the nape of his neck through your fingers, applying more pressure onto his groin. He grunts in response, adjusting himself slightly as the confinement of his jeans was nearly torturous at this point.

“Fine. But we’re endin’ this whole hookin’ up thing if anyone gets even the slightest bit suspicious.” He negotiates, and you nod.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Miller.”

Joel chuckles and shakes his head, leaning up to capture your lips into his once again. You hum against him, hands moving down to his chest as your nails scratch over the thin fabric of his shirt.

You start to grind yourself onto him again, and he groans once more before separating his lips from yours to mumble against them. “Use my thigh, baby.” He shifts you onto his left thigh, and you steady yourself on him by gripping his shoulders.

“I don’t wanna ruin your pants.” You sigh, the pressure of your clothed clit on his thick thigh already providing the tiniest bit of relief.

“I don’t give a shit about my pants, baby. Soak ‘em for all I care.” He presses his lips to your neck once more, and you shiver at the contact. You’re shy at first, not ever having gotten yourself off on someone’s thigh before.

Joel senses your hesitation, so he moves his hands back up to your hips and shifts them forward, causing your soaked cunt to glide along his jean-clad thigh.

You take over yourself, rocking your hips back and forth at a languid pace. Desperate moans are falling out of your mouth as you fist his shirt into your hands, feeling yourself so close already.

“Joel, feels so-so fucking good.” You whine, head dropping back. Your jaw goes slack and eyebrows thread together, picking the pace of your hips up.

“Yeah? Such a good fuckin’ girl, takin’ what she needs to get off.”

“I need you, Joel, please.”

Joel moved his hands to fumble with his belt buckle and jeans button to take his jeans off in the slightest, finally relieving his erection. You moaned at the sight of his thick cock, pre cum gathered at the tip. You brought your thumb to his slit, gathering the pre cum onto your finger before bringing it up to your mouth to gently suck on it.

Joel’s jaw ticked, resisting the urge to bend you over the back of his seat and fuck you senseless then and there. Luckily, he had a lot more restraint than he thought, because all he did was just stare at you sucking seductively on your thumb.

You shifted yourself so you were straddling both of his thighs now, and you grabbed his cock into your hand to give it a few slow tugs. Joel sucked in a breath at your touch, head being thrown back onto the headrest of the seat. You tugged your panties to the side before you ran the tip of his weeping cock through your slick folds, a lewd wetness sounding throughout the cab of the truck.

You moaned as Joel hissed at the contact. It’d been awhile since Joel had been with someone, so he prayed to whatever god was out there that he’d be able to last.

“C’mon baby, don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” Joel grunts, fingertips digging into your hips. You look down at him with half lidded eyes as you sank down onto his length without much resistance.

The stretch was fucking heavenly. Your lips parted as you puffed out a pant and sucked in a breath shortly after, reaching the hilt.

“So fucking big. Fuck.” You mewl, fingers digging into his shoulders for balance once more.

“Stay still for a little.” Joel’s voice was strained, sounding nearly pained as he choked out his words. You felt so good wrapped around him that he just wanted to appreciate your warmth.

Joel slid the sparkly straps of your dress down your shoulders, tugging down the neckline of your dress to reveal your breasts. His tongue darted out of his mouth to briefly wet his lips, large hands moving up to gently squeeze the soft flesh of your chest.

“So fuckin’ perfect.” Joel whispers, moving his head down to envelope one erect nipple into his mouth while his thumb and index finger toyed with the other. You moved one hand up his chest and to the back of his hair, threading your fingers through the thick locks once more as you pushed his face deeper into your pillowy flesh.

The feeling of his expert tongue and heavy cock in you was beginning to be too much. You needed him to move, or at least let you move. You weren’t above absolutely begging him until he gave in, but he seemed to have the same idea as his hips thrusted into you.

You took that as an initiative to move, so you began to slowly glide yourself up and down on him. You sucked in a sharp breath as the feeling of him repeatedly filling you made your legs shake. He took his mouth off of your swollen flesh to avert his gaze to yours, eyes locking as you moved up and down. He moved a hand down to generously rub at your aching clit, causing your cunt to deliciously clench around him.

“Gonna ruin this tight little pussy. Just you wait.” His voice is throaty and deep, sending shivers down your spine. The dangerous glint in his eye let you know that he was dead serious.

You wanted Joel Miller to ruin every other man for you.

That’s how this, the dangerous thing—the game—started.

You both were determined to win at something that wasn’t even tangible; something so lucrative to both of you that the consequences wouldn’t even fucking matter.

It didn’t matter as he took over and fucked his hips up into you at a brutal pace, causing you to orgasm violently on his cock within minutes. It didn’t matter when the windows of his truck fogged up and the drag of your fingertips adorned the glass. It didn’t matter when you reassured him he could cum in you because you were on birth control.

As months went on after that night at the bar, him fucking you up against the wall of his shower or pounding you into your bed or eating your pussy until you physically could not breathe anymore was all that dazed your mind.

Fuck the consequences.

None of it fucking mattered.

Because, over the months, Joel Miller was the kind of man you didn’t mind having in your bed after you two’ve fucked. You didn’t mind when he slept over, or when he wanted to be the little spoon, or when you both went out on dates like a normal couple would.

The euphoria of it all didn’t last forever, though. You knew it wouldn’t, but the heavy weight and reality of it all came crashing down on you one day when Joel was buried deep into your warm cunt, both of you teetering on the edge of a climax, when your dad came knocking on your front door. Pure panic seized your body and you had to make Joel hide in your closet like a fucking teenager.

That’s when you realized you both were way in over your head with this whole thing. Getting caught was going to be inevitable if it kept up like this.

You were eternally grateful that your dad was a man who didn’t hover. He left your apartment after fifteen minutes and when Joel came out from hiding, you told him that it was way too close and it was too risky to keep doing what you both wanted to never put a stop to. You’d silently promised yourself that was the last time with him.

Joel tried to argue against it, but you put your foot down. That is, until you got slightly buzzed one night and begged Joel to come fuck you. Truthfully, you didn’t even really need the sex from him. It was just a plus. You just enjoyed being around him so much that having him in some way, even if only physically, was to suffice.

Little did you know, he felt ten times stronger than what you felt. Joel Miller would worship the ground you walked on, if you allowed him to do so.

He was at your doorstep in no time, pushing you against the wall and kissing you with such neediness as if you’d disappear right beneath his fingertips. You were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of panties to which Joel discarded immediately. His thick fingers rubbed against your slick heat, hips bucking to meet the languid pace he set.

Joel shouldn’t be here.

You promised yourself the last time would be the fucking last.

And yet, you found yourself willingly shoved up against the wall of your living room by none other than the man you swore you’d stay away from as he leaves hot, fervent kisses along the slope of your neck.

“Joel, we—fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this. We have to stop.”

“Yeah? Not what you were sayin’ when you were practically beggin’ me to fuck you again over the phone.” He grits. He sinks his fingers into your aching cunt, prying a strangled moan from your throat.

He’s frustrated with himself.

Frustrated that he so easily succumbed to you, allowing himself to wrap himself in the greedy need and carnal desire he had for you. Frustrated that you were twenty years younger than him, and frustrated that you should’ve been off limits.

You were supposed to be off limits, god damnit, but Joel Miller was a greedy fucking man. He just had to have you in a way that nobody else could.

He really didn’t blame your father if he strangled the man with his own bare hands if he ever found out what you two did behind his back, in secret, and for months at that.

Joel knew better.

He fucking knew better and still decided to get a taste, get a feel, fuck you like no other man had. Something his greed deliciously sunk its teeth into, allowing himself to indulge in the forbidden realm you offered to give him.

You knew better, too. But you did get one thing you wanted, after all.

You’d be a fucking liar if you didn’t admit that Joel Miller had officially ruined every other man for you.

The dangers of the game had sunk its teeth so deep into both of you. It was like the world’s most impossible chess match, and one of you was finally waiting for the other to say “checkmate.”

The thing is, Joel lost a long while ago.

He fucking lost the game.

He couldn’t stay away from you no matter how hard he tried, and when you called him begging him to fuck you tonight, his need for you practically drowned him in his weakness.

Joel Miller was not a weak man. You had him under a fucking spell that he couldn’t seem to reverse.

It’s like you were his fucking kryptonite.

He was the one that royally fucked in the end.

Joel wished he didn’t have these feelings that clawed at his fucking rib cage every time he glanced at you, some sort of animalistic creature trying to escape when you were under him, legs spread wide, your warmth wrapped around his cock as he buried himself in you.

Every single time he had you like that, had his lips on you, had you moaning his name like a prayer on Sunday mornings, saw your sweet smile, smelled your perfume that he loved so much, heard your contagious laugh, he knew he lost.

Checkmate.

tags: @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @amanitacowboy ; @holesandlividity ; @planet-marz1 ; @joelmillers-whore ; @cool-iguana ; @janaispunk ; @freakygothgirl ; @survivingandenduring ; @clawdee ; @danaispunk ; @kiwisbell ; @untamedheart81

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagines #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #dbf! joel smut #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot

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lazyjellyfish300 · 1 month

Text

In Between the Bookshelves📚

AU Librarian!Miguel O'Hara x Fem grad student reader

(image isn't mine, found it on Instagram under the account @/ brokenohara and asked for their permission to post it)

Synopsis: a normal trip to the library results in a little bit more than you were expecting when you meet the new librarian on duty. Word count 4.6k

A/N: reposting this new and hopefully improved version of one of my very first Miguel fics I deleted a while back. I tried to make him more awkward and cute🖤🤓. Still not totally confident in the smut but oh well. Writing smut is so hard sometimes? Or maybe my skills have gone down, idk 😫 Hope you enjoy...

TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT TOWARDS THE END: FINGERING, ORAL SEX F receiving, Gag(he uses his shirt to muffle your moans) Public sexual activity, talk of anxiety, mention of family troubles and anti-deity/religion language

It's 7:00 pm on a rainy Tuesday night in the middle of October. You just got out of your evening Database Systems class. You can't help but feel poetic as you stroll down the grey, soaked, Manhattan streets twirling your umbrella, hot coffee in a cardboard cup in hand. Your shoulders begin to ache from the thin faux leather straps of your backpack. You're wearing your favorite brown sweater over a short sleeved black dress that hits you mid-thigh, with some holey black tights and your favorite knock-off Doc Martens. Damn, I still need to write that 2 page paper that's due tomorrow..

You decide at the last minute to spend your night at the library. You know you won't get anything done if you go back to your apartment. You spin on your heel and pick up the pace as you head hastily towards the NYIT library in Manhattan.

The library is pretty dead except for a group of three people sitting together in the middle table talking in hushed voices, one woman sitting on the floor scrolling with a laptop, and one jock looking fellow sitting at the computers, cracking his knuckles and bouncing his knee anxiously as he scans his assignment he's typing.

You sit down at the empty table right next to the librarian's desk. Since you're a regular here you recognize Polly, the librarian on duty who is a plump woman who looks to be in her 30s with short curly brown hair, wearing a mustard yellow cardigan and brown corduroy pants tonight. She's stapling papers together and gives you a small nod in acknowledgement as you sit down at the table in front of her desk.

She whispers to you, "I'm actually heading out for the evening, but the new person on duty should be here any minute now if you need any assistance."

You nod, and, speak of the devil, here he comes. You suddenly feel your chest get hot when you lay your eyes on the new librarian.

Tall, dark, and handsome would be the simplest way to define this man's appearance, but that would be a very feeble attempt at doing him justice. Sculpted bicep muscles push against the sleeves of his flannel with the cuffs rolled up halfway on his thick forearms. The flannel is unbuttoned and flaps gently away from his body as he walks, a white t-shirt underneath. He has broad, wide, shoulders and a narrow waist. He's also wearing dark wash athletic jeans and a pair of canvas slip ons. His hair has one stubborn strand in front from his small widow's peak that falls endearingly in the middle of his forehead. His most disarming quality is his eyes. A shade of brown that's earthy and natural like the sediment that decorates stream beds. He wears a stoic expression under large framed glasses.

He nods and mutters a "thank you" to the woman librarian as she shimmies into her coat and leaves. His eyes notice you and latch onto you momentarily. You feel your cheeks grow warm and you turn back to your laptop, unable to resume where you left off, wanting to start a conversation with him but not sure how. After a few painful moments of silence, and a quiet rumble outside from the ongoing rainstorm, you decide to break the ice by telling him your name. He blinks as you tell it to him, and you continue trying to make small talk to try and prod more out of him.

"Have I seen you here before? I come here a lot and I don't think I've met you yet."

"Miguel O'Hara," he answers shortly, but politely. "I'm a grad student. I started working for the university in exchange for assistance with my tuition."

You nod, feeling the heat leave your cheeks a little bit as you realize you could have a normal conversation with this man, and not just be an awkward mess around him the entire time. When he mentions he's a student, you realize you have something in common with him and try to go from there.

"These mid-terms are going to be the death of me. I have just one more paper to turn in then I can finally breathe, thank God..."

Miguel blows a short puff of air out of his nose seemingly in agreement, but doesn't say anything else.

He's quiet. Truth is you are too, and you're stepping way more out of your comfort zone than you normally would. Amazing what a pair of charming brown eyes could do to you.

"Honestly, if I had to work anywhere on campus I'd pick the library too. Seems peaceful with minimal people around, and everyone's required to be quiet by default. The ultimate dream workplace."

Miguel can't figure out why this stranger keeps talking to him, but you brought up a point he feels he needs to clarify.

"Oh, you'd be surprised. Most people that come in here are loud and inconsiderate as hell. And there's always that one person who hasn't heard of shocking headphones. Always."

The corner of your mouth raises. "God, that would drive me insane. Being a librarian isn't all it's cracked up to be, huh?"

Miguel shakes his head. "No. More like a glorified adult babysitter who knows where the historical fiction section and restrooms are located, and that's about it. That's literally the only two questions I get asked all day." He turns to look at you more fully, this conversation a slight breath of fresh air, the first chance he's gotten in a while to air out his grievances as the night librarian.

He continues, complaining about the horny couples he's had the misfortune of overhearing get busy on the beanbags in the far corner, and the people who leave random drinks and empty chips bags on the shelves and seem to have forgotten what alphabetical order means when they put books back.

You listen to all of it, nodding your head, and let out a cackle at his expressions he's making with those defined, bushy brows of his. He talks with his hands and it's a little endearing to watch him be so animated. This expressive side you've managed to crack through beneath his solemn exterior.

Miguel feels warmth rise in his body at the sound of your laugh for the first time. It's genuine and hearty, and honestly it's funnier than whatever bad quip he just made and he can't help but feel a little more attracted to you after hearing it. You were a good listener, and he appreciated that a lot about you.

You glance at the windows across the room, nodding in its direction with a remark about the weather, how rainstorms are your favorite. He tells you he loves them as well.

Soon, the others have shifted out of the library and he's now sitting in the chair across from you leaning his chin in his hand, listening to you speak as the rain gently pelts the windows outside.

He finds out you're originally from a smaller town, and you came to New York City for college and to escape your overbearing parents. You're 26 years old and trying to finish this Master's degree after taking one too many semesters off. You tell him about your mom who's a bit of a pushover, and your dad who's kind of an asshole.

He tells you he's 29 and has a younger brother who lives on the other side of the city, and his mom is similar to yours. She's kind but tends to set herself on fire to keep her kids warm. Like you, his dad is also a bit of an ass.

You're both introverted, but you can fake it when you need to, which he appreciates, otherwise he never would have been brave enough to say something to you this evening.

You two share a love of education and coffee. You discuss religion.

"I just don't get it, I'm supposed to love this guy and accept Him into my heart because He died for my sins even though I didn't ask Him to do that? But yet if I break any of His rules I get sent to the Inferno for all of eternity?"

"Sounds like a toxic relationship." Miguel quips as he spins your nearly empty coffee cup across the table absentmindedly.

"Exactly!"

You two talk about love as he shuffled some stray books back to their rightful place.

"C'mon, I know you've had to have dated at least once."

Miguel shakes his head. "Well, I did date a girl in high school. Knew her since the 7th grade. But she pretty much ripped my heart out when I saw her making out with one of my buddies on graduation night. I've had a couple dates here and there since then but that's it."

You click your pen. "Damn, so we both have exes from hell that we dated in high school?"

Miguel nods his head. "It would appear we do. I'm sorry you know the pain and annoyance of adolescent heartbreak too."

You shrug your shoulders. "It happens, y'know? It's like one of those things in life you're just meant to experience. It's like, unavoidable you know? And there's nothing you can do about it. What would you call that? Like not a trope per se, but almost like.... destiny?"

Miguel shrugs in return, "Like a canon event?"

You raise your eyebrows. "Yeah... exactly. How'd you come up with that?"

The ghost of a smirk appears on his face, "Just made sense to me, I guess."

You two sit at the table again and he asks about your childhood and you explain that you suffered from anxiety as long as you can remember and he looks at you with sympathetic eyes.

You do your best to try and ignore what feels like his knee pressing against your calf under the table. The thought of touching him sends heat waves through your body, but you remain frozen in place to send the message you're not opposed to more contact. Miguel feels it too, and deep down his leg is falling asleep with the way it's positioned but he's too nervous to move, either.

You both love the nighttime over mornings, and you show him one of your favorite playlists. He smiles at you tenderly as he holds one of the earphones to his ear.

Soon, it's 10:30 pm and he needs to do his closing duties. Luckily, there weren't any patrons who needed his assistance during his whole shift, proving his point earlier. Before he excuses himself, you two sit in silence for the longest time, both trying to gauge if now's the time to say goodbye to one another, but neither of you wanting to actually be the one who does.

Not sure if it was the absence of any light outside, the late hour, the good conversation you two shared, or a combination of all three, but the ripple of attraction you harbored for him has now washed over you completely and morphed into a formidable wave, threatening to take over your whole body, the darkness of this library and persistence of the ongoing storm outside pushing you closer to him.

He's staring at the corner of your laptop, similar feelings ebbing through him, not sure what's got into him. The art of flirting turned itself into uncharted territory for him a longggg time ago.

He finally decided to look at you but you're already looking at him and he snaps his gaze back down onto the bare table below him, silently cursing in his head as a shade of red fluster rises in his cheeks.

You realize you're going to have to be the one to be brave this time again. "Well, this has been fun...."

Miguel scoffs, starting to bounce his leg under the table. "You say that in the most sarcastic tone known to man."

You return with a scoff of your own, adding a smile, "Well I mean, technically you were working this whole time, isn't that boring?"

Miguel shrugs, the heat in his face returning. "You made it more fun..." The volume in his voice decreasing to a murmur.

You look down as well, your heart fluttering in your chest. You really wanted to kiss him. Or just be closer to him, you don't know why. Of course he was cute as hell but after talking to him for hours, there was no denying a spark had formed. You just didn't know whether one or both of you would make the first move to actually do something about it.

Miguel can't believe that he's actually going to try and attempt to ask you to stay longer with him, but he's going to. Just to hang out some more, maybe keep up that amazing conversation you two were sharing just before this. Completely innocent.

Well, if the way the glow from the desk lamp keeps on making your face look so warm and alluring, he's not sure he'll have the strength to shut down any escapades that ensue later, as long as you're completely up for it, of course.

He inhales "Um...so not sure if you have things to do later or..."

You look at him, pupils widening with anticipation at his pending question.

He goes to say, "I was wondering if you wanted to keep hanging out," but it gets combined with the phrase, "Do you want to stay here a little longer," and the word jumbo that exits his mouth is a little incoherent.

"Was wondering if you were wondering to stay and keep hanging longer out?"

You blink rapidly at his blunder, and he groans, placing his face in his hands.

You immediately feel bad for him, shaking your head and sliding a hesitant hand towards his arm. You stumble over your words too sometimes and it's always fucking humiliating when it happens, so you feel no judgement towards him whatsoever. If anything now he's even more attractive. Every little cute thing about him is just pushing you towards him closer than ever before.

Your fingertips skim across the top of the table and press gently into his forearm. He slowly rolls his head to look at you, his cheek resting in his arms as his eyes look at you from behind his glasses which are slightly askew from the way his face is positioned.

His face is still red, but his heart flutters at your sweet smile. "Sorry, my brain just...takes a dump on me when I try to be smooth sometimes..." Miguel mumbles with a weak chuckle, running his hands through his hair.

You shake your head. "I do the same thing...but to answer your question....yes please..." Your voice becomes quieter at the word "please", an trickle of lust you added on purpose, hoping he's picking up on the vibe you're putting down with the way you're gazing into his eyes, your fingers pressed against his arm, the subtle scoot closer you just made with your chair.

Miguel releases a shaky breath, oh, he's paying attention alright. Damn it all if he doesn't take the leap right now. He decides to ask one more time to be sure, slowing down so he gets it right this time.

"Will....you stay longer, with me?" his voice is low, almost a whisper even though it's only the two of you in his dark library, but it's dripping with seduction. A low rumble from the rain clouds interrupts the pause between his question and your answer.

"Yeah..." you say softly back with double affirmation, a sneaky smile forming on your lips. He flashes a dazzling smile back at you, a woozy feeling in his stomach for what's about to happen in the next few minutes.

He excuses himself and goes back to his desk, typing on his computer, the excitement of having you alone making him just type nonsense for the first few moments, wheeling away some carts to the back and stowing a stray book back where it belongs.

It's now 11 pm. Closing time. Miguel turns off all the lights except for his small desk lamp. The clouds are still rolling and rumbling outside with the wind whistling against the windows. Raindrops are still decorating the street. It's a beautifully dark, sensual scene just for the two of you.

He laces his fingers in between yours and leads you to a dark space in between two large bookshelves. His hand is clammy, and he's a little embarrassed about it on the inside but you squeeze it reassuringly. There was literally nothing he could do at this point to make your crush on him go away. The shelves tower over both of you, even Miguel, who's 6 foot 9.

He leans a hand against the shelf just above and to the right of your head. He accidentally pins a piece of your hair under his hand, making you wince a tiny bit.

"Augh.."

Miguel's eyes dart in alarm to search for what he did that caused you pain and he realizes your hair is trapped under his hand. He pulls it away, shaking his hand and flicking his fingers in an effort to free any of your strands from it. "Goddamit...."

He rolls his head backwards in exasperation at his epic failure of having zero game tonight. You hold onto the flaps of his flannel, making him look at you. "Hey, hey come on...it's okay...."

He finally looks down at you and his lips fall open at your beauty, his heart rate speeding up much more quickly now, and he brings a shaky hand to your face. In his mind, he can't help but realize he's being a huge hypocrite, committing the same sins as his horny patrons of getting busy in the library. But seriously though, at least he had the decency to make sure it was after closing when he was off the clock.

You feel your knees go weak as he brings his other hand to your face, pulling down your bottom lip with his thumb. He wets his lips and he leans in pressing his tongue gently in the space he opened in your bottom lip, begging to be let in. You oblige immediately, diving forward into his soft lips, goosebumps appearing on your arms.

Oh fuck....this kiss felt good. He forgot how nice it felt to share intimacy with someone, those feelings that laid dormant for so long rising and nearly bubbling past the surface. It's all coming back to him as he just wills himself to get lost in the warmth of your mouth, the sheer layer of your Chapstick leaving a tasty feeling on his tongue.

You considered yourself decently experienced, but the way his lips move on their own show you he's a force to be reckoned with and you'd be more than happy to sit back and let him handle things...this handsome, geeky, sweet librarian...

The noises you two make as you desperately kiss each other are little shuffles as you bump into the shelf behind you, with an occasional "oh fuck...," from Miguel. Hearing how turned on he's getting causes you to let your first moan escape your lips.

Once he hears it, he needs more. His hands make their way to your ass and hoist you up onto an empty bookshelf ladder and he sets you down on one of the rungs. You grab his shirt in your fists, not tearing your lips away from his.

"Do you care about these?" Miguel says softly, out of breath, his mind running a million miles a minute before his actions can catch up to him, gently pinching the thin material of your tights between his thumb and pointer finger as his palms grip the soft flesh of your outer thighs. You shake your head no, wanting to fuck already.

Then, his hand is in your crotch, ripping a whole right in the middle, tearing away at the fabric concealing your ripe pussy away from him as though it's the cover of a brand new novel. His cold pointer finger hooks behind your panties and pulls it to the side. You gasp loudly as you feel his finger and the cold air hit your soaked heat.

He chuckles, his breaths still coming out in rapid, succession, the baritone hum of his voice only adding to the wetness between your legs.

"Sorry, my hands are cold..." Then you can't believe what's happening when he drops to his knees, spreading you open like a book. His elbows pin your knees against the sides of the ladder, the wood pressing painfully into your kneecaps, but the sensation he gives you next makes you forget about the whole thing.

His tongue glosses over your wet pussy like a finger stroking the edge of a page. His nose tickles the tiny hairs sprouting from it as he takes a deep breath in, the smell of you going straight to his cock. He teases the lips of your pussy for a moment, an agonizing back and forth along the slit...

....back....and..... forth

"God....you're so wet..."

Back.....

"Miguel..." you whimper..

and forth...

"Fuck...." your fingers shake as you ball them into a fist...

before his tongue dips into your wet hole. Your back arches on instinct, making your body lurch forward, accidentally pushing his tongue further into you which he welcomes eagerly by gripping low on your ass to hold you in place.

You shudder and twitch violently, throwing your head back at the insanely divine attention he's injecting between your thighs. Miguel pauses for a moment, tenderly licking the inside of your thigh before sealing it with a kiss as his eyes flicker up to you.

"You okay?...." he whispers.

You release a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding, a slightly empty feeling as the mind numbing pleasure was abruptly switched off.

"Yeah, yeah...I'm okay."

Miguel reassumes his position, tongue fucking you. The soft pad of his tongue fondling the plush walls inside you. He lets out a low groan and he feels you turn to putty in his grasp, his head gently bobbing as his tongue completes lap after lap eating you, enjoying you, savoring you....every drop from that pretty pussy soon seeping out of his mouth and dribbling down his chin.

Your moans grow louder than they ever have, plucking him from his pussy-drunk state. He stands up in a panic and rips off his flannel, bunching it up as his eyes do a quick scan to make sure you're both still all alone.

"Shhhh.....baby, we need to be quiet.....bite this for me."

His angelic face comes up to look at you, his forehead pressing tenderly against yours and your eyes go half lidded at the sight of your arousal glistening down his chin, shiny on his thick neck from the thin flickers of moonlight that have managed to leak through the darkened windows of the library.

You do as you're told, biting his flannel and he stuffed it hastily in your mouth, making a makeshift gag as your eyes water. His elbows assume their position pinning your thighs back and he's back between them again.

You understand why he made you a gag as he goes directly for your clit this time. You yelp, your sound muffled by the fabric. Your nails dig into his shoulders, two perfect handles while you ride his face. The material of his shirt is thin and you feel every muscle ripple under your palms as he moves to keep fucking you with his mouth.

Your clit throbs to near overstimulation but Miguel doesn't relent. He swirls his tongue with low sighs of appreciation, unable to tear himself away from the wet heaven in front of his face.

His saliva and your slick mix together until it's all the same. The love you're dripping onto him and the love he's licking into you becoming a lewd stream of passion. He groans into your pussy as his bulging cock begs to relieve itself of all the cum built up with tormenting ache.

He decides he wants to watch you cum. He gets up, replacing his tongue with his thumb and his first two fingers, pumping into you with a circular rhythm and easing your clit at a torturous pace.

"On me, baby...." he whispers.

Your eyes struggle to stay open as you look at him, a little unsure of what he said. "Mmmm?...." You ask with a high pitched sigh.

"Keep those pretty eyes on me..." he repeats, his own eyes going half-lidded from the lure of your mouth hanging open. "Fuck...."

He abandons his plan momentarily as he rips his flannel from your mouth to kiss you again. You invade his mouth with your tongue and he mumbles your name again in response. You start to taste yourself and then whimper when you realize the pleasure is beginning to become too much.

"Miguel," you pant. "Baby, it's so much...." your breaths begin to hyperventilate.

Miguel gives a low sigh when you say his name, his cock straining once more when he realized he drew you to say it. He tilts his head at you, his jaw open and curls into a smile when he sees how crazy he's driving you.

"Cum f'me, baby. Wanna watch you while you do..."

You try to look at a spot on the ceiling but Miguel interrupts your concentration when he moves his head to keep himself in your vision. The spiciness of this sexy encounter banishing all fears he had before. No, he won't let you look at anything else when you cum.

He gives a loud grunt and clasps a hand over your mouth, fingers turning white, muffling your cry of sweet release as you squirt all over his flannel, your passion causing a few books to collapse from the shelf.

You shake and start to shiver all over as the sweat you produced during all the action starts to cool. Your hands are tingly and numb. Miguel gives a soft chuckle and presses a soft kiss into your temple with his wet lips and another one on your mouth before he returns his tongue to your thighs, collecting any remaining arousal left behind.

You rest your head back on the ladder rung behind your head, reeling in your come down. He smiles and plants a kiss into your thigh before bidding it farewell, then comes up and hugs you, nestling you in his tantalizing embrace, as he rests his cheek in your hair.

"Thank you..." you murmur, only barely sobering up from your high, his musk and cologne delivering you to a whole new state of intoxication.

He smiles down at you in response and holds your face in both hands, running his thumbs along your cheeks.

"See me tomorrow?"

You practically melt at those big brown eyes of his, glasses still slightly askew and the neck of his wrinkled shirt dampened with his sweat, silently hoping you will.

You beam up at him and nod enthusiastically and he chuckles and plants a line of kisses on your neck as you giggle underneath him. After a few soft hugs and another round of delicate kisses, he walks you to the door. Making you promise you'll call him as soon as you get home as a reluctant compromise at his uneasiness of you walking alone in the dark.

He watches you walk away into the night and doesn't stop until he sees you safely board the bus. He turns around and goes back inside the library, shutting off his desk light with a small click.

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #spotify #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #Spotify

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morallyinept · 4 months

Text

UNWRAP ME - A Frankie Morales Christmas One Shot

Summary: You gift yourself to Frankie as his early Christmas present, and he can't wait to unwrap you.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub. Images just for aesthetic, no reference to Reader.)

Word Count: 4.1k

Scoville Smut Rating: 🌶️🌶️🌶️ "You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/triggers - Established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/oral F receiving/Frankie's curls are let loose.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: Hot, spicy Christmas fun to kick off my 12 Days Of XXX-MAS, with that hot, spicy tamale, Frankie. 🥵 There is some Frankie Spanish, I've not provided translations as it's easy enough to Google if you're curious, but you can probably figure it out. 😉

12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy & Happy Holidays! 🎄🖤

“I’ve got you something for Christmas, baby. But I want to give it to you a little early.” You call out to him.

You can hear the familial heavy padding of his feet up the stairs, as you slick on a coat of matte lipstick in the ensuite bathroom.

You pucker into the mirror over the sink regarding yourself, and smile at what you see with that devilish glint lingering in your eye.

You can only imagine what he’ll make of it, and that thought pulses hot through your veins in wanton excitement.

You spritz on a faint mist of your favourite scent - one that you know will make his mouth water too - and linger discreetly in the doorway, watching Frankie now rifling around in the wardrobe, completely oblivious.

He has his broad back to you, and you can see him putting laundry away in neat piles on the shelves inside the doors. His grey t-shirt rides up as he reaches into the furthest crevices of the wardrobe, revealing the tanned, fleshed divots of his lower back.

His worn, scuffed jeans are slung low on his hips and those muscles flex and ripple under his skin as he stretches, and your own mouth begins to water.

“Did you do the ironing?” You question, perplexed.

“Yes, I did the ironing,” he grunts, in a voice lazily mimicking yours.

You see him shake his head; those wild curls growing unruly at the nape of his neck. The faded blue cap is slapped on his head in a regular trademark manner. Even when indoors, Frankie can’t abstain from plonking it on to keep his waves under check.

“And it’s not Christmas yet. So, don’t think by giving me a present early that you’re going to get one early, hermosa. Sé lo que estás haciendo.” Frankie confirms, his voice being absorbed into the clothes, but you can hear him smiling as he says it, and that soft snort as he chuckles to himself.

“Are you sure about that?” You question, smirking.

“Si, bebita. I’m not falling for it. You’ve just gotta wait until-”

He glances over his shoulder, stops instantly as though you’ve put him on pause, and then does a slow full turn. His face is unreadable; his lips pursed as his eyes seemingly cloud over for a few moments.

Grinning, you beckon him over, but he’s rooted to the spot; his legs suddenly feeling that if he takes a step forward he’ll collapse prone into the carpet.

Frozen in all the possibilities of what’s unfolding in front of his eyes as he looks you up and down, and his cheeks start to glow brighter than Rudolph's nose.

Frankie swallows, his mouth suddenly very dry and claggy like he’s been licking said carpet all night. Your eyes lock onto his; just as cavernous and darkening, feeling like you can fall right into them as they drink you up.

You study his face; like a chameleon camouflaging against its surroundings, Frankie’s face works through every single shade of shock, astonishment and heated lust there is on the colour scale.

“Well, shit...” He baulks, tossing the wardrobe door shut behind him. “¿Es todo esto para mí?” Frankie questions, barely able to take you all in.

You can see him visibly sweating.

“It’s all for you, baby. Feliz Navidad.” You smile, stepping fully into the bedroom from the ensuite doorway.

“Fuck.” Frankie remarks with a look like he’s just been punched in the scruffy jaw and can’t quite comprehend the audacity of it.

“Are you going to unwrap me?” You ask, with a villainous smirk and he’s utterly lost for words.

Your body is wrapped in scarlet silk and velvet lingerie. Your breasts are sculpted to perfection inside a corset-style basque; the front lined with several velvet bows in the same colour that holds it all closed around your ample mounds.

All tied up neatly and tightly that you’re threatening to spill out over it at any moment.

You’re wearing a matching red thong, along with red lace-topped stockings, and your satin heels that match. A real candy cane dream, all shimmery and scrumptious before him as he licks his lips.

Your eyes sparkle at him through subtle, yet smokey make-up and red lips.

He perches clumsily on the end of the bed, somewhat remembering where it is from muscle memory, and equally missing as he stumbles, sinking backwards, legs buckling underneath him.

His hand navigates over his mouth, scratching at his grey-speckled beard and looking you up and down like he doesn’t know where to start.

Like all his fucking Christmases have just come at one.

“What did I do to deserve this?” Frankie questions, his eyes moving between your breasts and pussy each time he looks you over. Shit, he doesn’t even know where the hell to look.

You come and sit beside him on the bed, resting back on your elbows so he can run his shaky hands up and down the velvet and silken ensemble.

He tweaks at one of the bows, smoothing it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Well, you did do the laundry.” You chuckle, and he tickles across your stomach with those roaming, thick fingers.

“You look-” He stutters out a sigh, eyes big and a smirk on the cusp of cracking his face. He’s staring you down as though you’re a piece of meat he can’t wait to tear into, salivating.

“I know.” You wink at him.

Frankie leans in and kisses you, his lips running over yours smoothly and softly. Soft, gentle clicks fill the room as he kisses all along your bottom lip; suckling it gently before running his mouth across your cheek and towards your neck, inhaling your perfume.

The soft nips in between his lingering kisses from those puffy, pink lips of his begin to engulf you, and your head lolls back as he kisses along your jaw and throat, planting carnage inside your pores.

“Fuck, I’m so hard.” Frankie whispers, looking into your cleavage and then up at your eyes.

His dick, throbbing and swollen, feels like it'll fire off and fly round the room at the sight of you swathed in all this sumptuous velvet and lace, all just for him.

Your hand slips down to his crotch and squeezes gently over the denim. “Mmm... yeah you are.” You grin.

“You kill me, hermosa.” He whines, almost payhetically.

Your heart’s beating faster and louder inside your chest as you lean up towards him slowly; zoning in on his mouth and crush your lips against his. Groaning at the feeling of the way those fuzzy lips graze against yours, coursing electricity through your arms and legs like you’ve stuck your wet fingers in a socket.

You can taste his tongue and the remnants of coffee beans and spearmint gum, as he slips it into your mouth and massages it with his deliciously.

Fuck.

Taking his sweet time, Frankie starts pulling on the top two ribbons, slowly revealing more of that soft, supple skin that smells of flowers and fruit; thoroughly enjoying unwrapping his gift as your breasts spill out at him.

His dark, brown eyes flit up to your face now again to read you, to relish in the feeling of what he’ll find underneath it all; the reward of your perky nipples waiting for him, and that sopping, wet pussy that he can bury his face into for hours and never get bored.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Frankie murmurs into your face; the warmth from his breath settling into your pores. "All for me, all for me..." He sighs, beside himself.

You smile; a slow, insidious beam unfolding on your lips much like The Grinch. "All for you, baby."

The ribbons are undone and your breasts revealed to him fully; it’s like he’s seeing them for the first time all over again, and Frankie could just weep at the sight of them.

He runs his fingertips across them, and you’re watching as they circle tantalisingly around your nipples; the calloused pads of them feeling the tiny bumps rising around your areolas as they harden.

He smooches over them, slipping his tongue around the peak where he sucks it into his eager, hot mouth.

You watch as he flicks that wet, fleshy muscle in his mouth back and forth over it, biting down on your lip as he gropes and squeezes the other inside his hand.

He manoeuvres himself between your legs, sliding carefully on his belly like he would creeping up on the enemy, with a mouth full of your tits.

You pull off his cap and toss it across the bed, running your fingers through his mussed hair as he suckles on you, pulling a little tighter with his teeth, making you hiss.

"Mmm," you sigh out at the feel of it. It tingles all the way down into your clit.

He crawls further up you, running kisses up your throat and the side of your face as he gets close. His long, thick fingers claw up and down your inner thigh, skimming his thumb across the lace at the top of your stockings.

He hums out in dreamy satisfaction and it’s warm inside your ear. You love him like this, free to roam your body and play with it. You’re unapologetically clawing at him and wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him in closer.

You can feel his cock, straining inside the stonewash denim to be freed, pressing heavy against your thigh. Hear how he groans with need as you grind against it.

Your mouths run all over each other; absorbing those sounds he makes snuffling out of his nose and from the back of his throat, creating plentiful melodies inside of your ears that you can tune in to all day. Frankie FM.

His hands are roaming your body, squeezing, kneading, pinching. His lips part and his eyes open up as he stares at you as you feel his fingers trail down to your centre.

You can see the subtle gold flecks inside of his chocolate irises and can make shapes in them; find yourself lost in the galaxy of them, that’s how deep they pull you in when he’s this close and on top of you.

He glances down at his fingers pulling against the thong, and wrenches it upwards. You buck and groan as it grazes against your swelling clit.

“These, are the tiniest fuckin’ panties I’ve ever seen.” Frankie husks as he nips on your lobe.

You giggle.

“I could literally tear them off.”

“I’d rather you didn’t, they’re brand new.” You playfully scold.

“I don’t give a fuck.” He growls as he breathes against your cheek. Momentarily you feel a sharp tug and hear the lace tear with ease. “I’ll open my gift how I want. Esto es todo mio.”

“Mmm,” you whine.

He rolls onto his side and smirks propping himself up on his elbow and pulls a piece of the shredded thong out from under your ass. He tosses it over his shoulder casually and smirks accomplished.

"That's better," he says.

You’re spread wide for him, feeling the yummy tingles of his fingers blaze trails down your body, stroking along your arm, over your hip and teasing around your pussy lips; barely touching them each time he ventures there between your legs.

Ghosting over your labia and avoiding your clit; the tiniest of skin-on-skin contact that makes you shudder and claw at the duvet in anticipation.

"Frankie..." You hiss as the goosebumps flood your skin.

Breathing heavier into his mouth as his tongue swims around yours when he leans over and finds your lips again.

His index and middle fingers split across the outside of your cunt that you can feel is slick and warm, and then when he sweeps back up again, he gently nudges your clit this time, sending your body into a rhythm of tingles and shocks.

“You like that, huh?” Frankie croons in delight at your reaction, he watches your face as he begins circling his middle finger over your swollen clit; tapping at first ever so gently and then rubbing in tantalising circles and applying a little pressure more and more each time he does a three-sixty on it.

"Baby... ah, feels so good." You whine.

You marvel at how he can simply play you like an instrument, plucking your stings, eliciting different tones out of you.

You watch him bring his fingers to his mouth and suck them before he slides them back between your sticky folds.

“Frankie…” You're fisting at his t-shirt.

“What? What do you want, hermosa?” He teases as he probes against your hole, barely dipping in and then withdrawing and rubbing your clit again.

“Fuck, please…” You husk. “Need your fingers inside me.”

“Like this?” You feel him breach, a lone digit sliding all the way in, up to the hilt of his knuckle and then retreating.

“Frankie!” You grab at his wrist, but he subdues you easily, pinning your hands above your head and clutching them together in his other hand.

“Stay still, baby.” He smirks.

He slips his fingers inside you again, pumping in and out slowly, grinning at you with the lewd, wet sounds they make echoing around the bedroom.

“So fucking wet for me…”

You can feel it, the warmth prickling at your limbs as it starts to spread through your bloodstream. He’s stroking deep; you can feel it bloom deep inside your belly, that delicious pressure as he curls his fingers.

It’s beginning to get too much; the intensity of the deep finger fuck pulling and unravelling your seams slowly as you brew and bubble around the edges whilst Frankie stares you down like a lion stalking its prey in the tall grass.

He goes faster, the squelches louder, as he pulls your pleasure out of you with skilled ease.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me… Quiero que acabes para mí,” he soothes.

Your thighs shake as the pressure builds and then erupts, flooding your body with warmth and a tingly glow that makes you giggle through your pants.

He pulls out his fingers and taps against your clit with them as you come. A little trick he likes to indulge in now and again to watch your thighs go berserk as your orgasm is torn from your core and shunted into your clit.

“Oh fuck!” You cry as you shake and gasp.

His other hand on the back of your neck, massages into the skin as your own hands run the length of his tan face and around the back of his head. His middle finger keeps nudging and rubbing on your sweet spot that's buzzing and tingling wildly under his touch.

He then dips his finger inside your hole, drenching it in your slick and back out again, lubing it up and rubbing it over the nub with a slick, circular movement.

Your thighs are constantly quaking, pushing you towards overstimulation as he builds you up again.

“Frankie…” You gasp out on a muted whisper, the sound of your squalls getting lost somewhere inside your throat.

"You've got another one," he husks.

Frankie kisses down the side of your neck and collarbone, before reaching your nipple again and takes it in his mouth, flicking his tongue around it like his finger is with your clit, matching the tempo.

Your hips press up into his fingers, winding around and jolting as he works that magic spell on your happy button as you come again, muttering incoherently into his mouth.

"Si, hermosa..."

He then stops and squeezes both your tits together with his hands, and tongues and sucks the warm nipples inside your swollen areolas as he nestles himself between your legs.

“God, you’re fuckin' hot,” Frankie whispers. You see him reach down and adjust himself over his jeans, and you can see how hard he is for you by that familiar, ominous shadow.

He pushes both your legs up, holding them under the back of your knees, and it pushes your ass and pussy up to his face.

He wastes no time in running his lips over your wet, sticky flesh and tasting you.

Letting his tongue circle around your clit then dip inside your cunt where he can taste that delicious honey pot centre, before suckling back on your clit again.

He licks long, fat stripes up your seam and eyes you darkly whilst he does it.

“Mmm, baby.” You whine, fisting into his messy hair. Curls splay over his forehead and you grip onto his tufts behind his ears, tugging his face further into your pussy.

He groans out contentedly - he fucking loves it when you do that.

You can hear him breathe and pant around your slit drenching him, quenching his thirst. Warm air from his mouth is blown onto it as he looks up at you with those dark eyes as he feasts.

Your fingers weave through the soft silk of his hair, petting him and stroking as he feasts expertly without coming up for air. Your fingers tousle it before you twist it around your fingers.

You tug harder on his silky roots and he grunts in response as he gnaws on your clit, making your legs judder.

“Mmmmaaahhh!” You whine out, your back arching and your body twisting.

His lips are clamped around you; his tongue lapping ferociously, and as you’re coming, he make delicious sounds in satisfaction too.

“Mmm, mmm...” He ribs through his lips.

Frankie clutches onto your stomach, keeping you as still and anchored as he can whilst you thrash about; his fingers slightly pressed into your gut and making you ride that wave and feel it all.

He licks up and down, as one of your hands goes to your head like you can’t believe it; the other still gripping inside his hair and pulling him further onto you, sending your body into a sweet dance of convulsion as he delves deep with his relentless tongue fucking.

“Oh, ohhh… fuuuccck! Frankie!”

He reaches up and grabs your hand as your body trembles and begins shaking about under him; he grips it tight, locking his fingers around yours, and watches from between your legs as you come hard around his mouth, filling it with sweet nectar he drinks down.

The lace from the stockings graze against his scruff and get caught in it as you try to crush his head. It’s a spectacular show of fucks and oh God’s thrown into the air as your body succumbs to his tongue.

"Baby, you're so good at that..." You look down at him smiling, and beside yourself as he fumbles with his belt, pushing his jeans down.

"I know," he replies, smugly. He crawls up your body, his cock dragging against your folds and smearing himself against your skin.

You reach for him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he buries his thick, hard cock inside of you.

That single sheath of him into you takes your breath away, and for a moment it’s like you can’t breathe. All oxygen stripped from the room and floating in a void of nothing where it’s only Frankie.

"Oh my God!" You pant.

He runs his thumb over your bottom lip and you kiss it delicately as he slowly builds his pace; fucking into you with deep, grinding movements so that his cock can savour every inch of your cunt that feels implausible around him.

You cling onto him, feeling his skin burn under your fingertips; the muscular curve of his arms; the smooth paunch of his stomach under his t-shirt as your hands run across him.

You can hear his breath pelting inside your ear as he trails his mouth up to your earlobe before taking it between his teeth and biting it gently, sending your pussy to its knees in subjugation of him.

"Frankie, fuck," you groan.

"Feels so fuckin' good..." he agrees.

You feel those little butterfly kisses from his eyelashes where he blinks against your skin; the soft graze of his patchy scruff catching against your throat.

You both moan out in sweet relief; your foreheads pressing against one another’s, as you’re reconnected, feeling like you should never be separated again.

The tip of his hawkish nose brushes against yours; his mouth crooking into a smile as your pants increase again, and he feels that yummy tightening around his dick, thoroughly enjoying the show of watching you come undone around him.

“Harder,” you whine to him, as he dives deeper into you, feeling every inch of him pack you out; lighting up those sparkly neurons inside your head like triggers leading to an almighty explosion of Christmas glitter and embers.

He pins your hands down above your head, resting his full body weight on them as his hips pummel into you, becoming more intense with each deep stroke.

“Fuck, Frankie!” You cry out as he breathes with you, trying to keep himself under control as you call out his name, but it’s useless; he craves everything you’re giving to him right now - the looks, the sounds, the feel of you tightening and squeezing around his cock.

“You wanted it harder.” He puffs with that crooked grin you want to taste.

Your back arches again as he brushes against the sweet spot inside, and makes it vibrate heavily within you.

Your legs wrap tighter around him, cinching him into you deeper; your fingers reach for his as he lets go of your wrists, interlocking with his digits as he kisses you once more, your mouths exploring each other all over again.

He growls out as you lock your feet together at the ankles as he ploughs deeper and harder into you; the bed creaking and squeaking under you both.

He reaches down, thumbing your clit as he thrusts harder into you. Heels pressed into his butt cheeks as he works you up again, never really letting you wander far from the midst of another enticing, sweet orgasm.

You can hear the sound of his cock inside you; that wet, heavy slapping noise as he fucks harder, works his hips faster.

He can’t keep his eyes off of you, staring at your body cinched up in the basque; all those curves and angles of you accentuated by it, tits bouncing over the top of it.

You gasp, biting down on your lip, your head straining back into the duvet as he feels you explode around his cock again; those little tremors around the head before he feels you squeeze tight around him and then release again.

"Yes! Frankie!" You call with a dying voice.

He wants to come inside you, wants you to feel what you’re doing to him. What you always fucking do to him.

You can see the need he has for you inside of his eyes; frantic and desperate. You push him onto his back and sit on top of him, lowering yourself slowly onto his thick cock.

"Yeah, baby. Like that... oh fuck." He groans as you rock up and down on him, his hands gripping around your hips, moving you into a steadily, deep rhythm that makes him bend and break.

“Ride me, querida!” Frankie hisses, encouragingly. Unable to comprehend that this could ever stop feeling so good.

You twirl and grind down on him as he pushes up with his hips, pulling you down onto his chest so he can kiss you again.

He crosses his arms over your back and hammers up into you. Heels of his feet pressing into the bed as he fucks you hard.

"Oh shit, shit!" You groan.

He ploughs in faster, feeling your slick walls tighten around him and making him work that bit harder to press on through into your cunt as it strangles and contracts around him.

He’s insubordinately beautiful, clutching onto him as you call out his name again and again with each hard stroke that he delivers inside of your squelching hole.

"I'm gonna come, fuck... I'm gonna come!" He wheezes.

Groaning loudly, Frankie’s lost as he comes; like he’s been tossed into a new dimension where nothing makes sense or is recognisable.

He forgets how to breathe for a moment; all he can see is you pulling him back towards you, saving him and rasping out with him as you both combust in tune with one another.

His cock is still twitching as he pulls out, you take a hold of it, pumping him a few times and making him groan and smirk in delight as you feel his spend dribble out of you and seep into the messy, creased duvet.

“Holy shit,” Frankie chokes on a throaty gasp.

He runs his hand around his throat a few times, beside himself before you lean down over him; his body weak and shaky.

You nuzzle into him, planting kisses over his cheeks as his fingers fiddle with the velvet bows on your basque.

His eyes are sleepy looking, like he’s dosed up on some wonder drug called pussy and he never wants off this high.

Frankie pulls you further on top of him; crushing you agaisnt his chest, his cock nestled nicely between your thighs. Sweaty curls are stuck to his forehead and he's never looked so good.

He spends the next few minutes just lost inside your mouth, holding you tight and letting his hand reach down and have a generous squeeze of your ass cheeks.

“Gracias por mi regalo, hermosa.” He sighs, contentedly. “Best gift ever.”

“You’re welcome, baby.” You smile, running your lips over his cheeks and fuzzy whiskers.

12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales triple frontier #triple frontier fic #pedro pascal characters #jett's writing #christmas stories

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

Note

Hey, got a Matt y/n request.

You go off your pill without Matt knowing because you want to have a family with Matt. Matt notices you're ovulating because you smell different and tries to get you pregnant.

#daddy and mommy kink

#cumpi€

#Matt the animal in bed

nonnie, you summoned my inner whore, and she has answered.

this is absolute filth with bits of angst and fluff sprinkled in. please enjoy (& thank you). 🖤

warning: contains explicit sexual content (minors please dni), swearing, and mentions of pregnancy word count: 3k

ours.

There was something different about you and it was driving Matt absolutely fucking insane. From the second he woke up this morning, he had this carnal desire for you that he couldn’t seem to tame. Your scent lingered on your pillow and Matt found himself burying his face into it as his hand searched for the softness of your skin, but all he found was the absence of warmth on his fingertips. He couldn’t hardly focus as he got ready for work, and it only got worse throughout the day.

As noon rolled around, he was elbow deep in case work and in the middle of going over a document with Foggy when he caught wind of your scent on the street. He immediately paused, cocking his head to the side slightly as he tracked your path from two blocks away to their office. By the time you had reached their floor and before you could even knock, Matt was swinging the door open and pulling you in so quickly, it made you dizzy.

“Matt! I almost dropped everything!”

You giggled softly as you readjusted your grip on the carryout bag containing all your orders and the tray of drinks. Matt’s tongue darted out to lick his lips as his hands remained firmly gripped on your hips, forcing a tight lipped smile on his mouth.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Heard you coming. What’s all this?”

“Well I figured you guys were swamped and hadn’t eaten yet so I brought lunch.”

Matt’s heart should’ve swelled with adoration and gratitude at the sweet gesture. But instead, a very different part of his body was swelling and he was struggling to retain his composure.

“Y/N Murdock you are a goddamn saint.”

Another giggle escaped your mouth at Foggy’s comment, and Matt squeezed his eyes shut behind his crimson glasses as he did his best to swallow back a moan.

“Matt? You alright?”

Matt turned his head slightly in Karen’s direction, a slight panic rising up in his chest as he stumbled over his words.

“Uh y-yeah, why?”

“Because you’ve got a death grip on Y/N/N, and you look like you’re in pain.”

Matt could feel everyone’s eyes on him, including you, and he all of a sudden realized just how tight his hold was on you. He cleared his throat as he released you, taking half a step back as he tried to fix his features into an expression of nonchalance.

“I’m alright, city's just a bit loud today. That’s all.”

Thirty minutes had never felt so fucking long in his entire life. Matt’s knee bounced uncontrollably underneath the table as you laughed and caught up with Foggy and Karen. Everytime a breeze blew through the open window, more of your scent wrapped around Matt like a decadent haze, and he had to stuff his mouth full of food to mask the reaction it was pulling out of him. He could feel sweat forming along his hairline the longer he sat next to you. Matt had always found you desirable, but there was something different about you today that had his half hard cock aching with need.

He racked his brain for any kind of excuse to get Foggy and Karen to leave, even just for five minutes so he could take you in his office and fuck you over his desk. Matt had to physically stop himself from shuddering as you leaned over to press a soft kiss to his jawline, digging his blunt nails into his own palm as he fought back the urge to slip his hand beneath the dress you were wearing. His head was so clouded with lust he hadn’t heard a word you’d said, and his eyebrows suddenly knit in confusion as he noticed your presence by the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to work. I just told you I have a meeting in fifteen minutes?”

“You did?”

A slight pout formed on your lips as you made your way back over to Matt, placing your hand gently on his cheek and letting out a soft noise as his burning skin touched your palm.

“Baby, are you sure you’re alright? You’re really warm.”

“I’m always warm.”

“Yeah, but you’re like extra warm right now, and you’re sweating.”

“It’s just…hot.”

Matt tried his hardest to appear normal, flashing you a half smile as he turned his head to gently press a kiss to your wrist.

Fuck. That made it worse.

“Okay…well, if you do start to feel bad, please go home.”

“I will.”

Matt could feel your attention directly on him and the roll of your eyes before you turned to Foggy and Karen with a playful smile on your lips.

“Will one of you please send my stubborn husband home if he gets worse?”

“You got it, Y/N/N.”

Matt swallowed thickly as you gave Foggy a grateful smile before bending down to press a soft kiss to his lips. He figured once you left, he would finally be able to breathe again. All he had to do was focus back on the case, and the rest of the day would fly by so he could go home to you; so he could finally have you. He just had to make it a few more hours. He could do that. Right?

Wrong. Very fucking wrong. The sound of the clock ticking through the office seemed to taunt him about how much time wasn’t moving as fast as he wanted it to. He couldn’t focus at all. His fingers trailed over the same rows of braille repeatedly, until his fingertips almost felt raw, but he still couldn’t decipher a fucking letter. He couldn’t put them together in his brain. All he could think about was you and burying himself inside you. He made it two hours after you left before he was bolting out of the office with a half assed excuse about being sick, frantically calling you on the way out and begging for you to meet him at home.

The second you stepped through the door, Matt was on you. The front door slammed shut as he pinned you against it, ripping your keys and purse out of your hands to toss them carelessly aside. His hands roamed everywhere, gripping and kneading every bit of you they could find. Eventually you were able to break apart from him, pressing your palms firmly against his chest as his mouth eagerly sought you out again.

“Matthew Murdock, what has gotten into you?”

“I…I don’t know.”

Matt panted heavily as he licked his lips, blank eyes darting back and forth in a frenzied manner. You brought one of your hands up to cup his jaw gently and he instantly leaned into your touch, a soft whine sounding in the back of his throat.

“I thought you were sick?”

“Not sick. Just need you. Needed you all day, sweetheart. Please.”

It was then that you noticed Matt’s pupils were blown wide open, and felt the evidence of his need against your lower stomach. Your lips parted slightly in an ‘o’ shape, finally putting all of the pieces of his odd behavior together in your head.

“Oh.”

“Please, sweetheart. I need you so fucking badly.”

“I…um…we…we can’t right now, Matty. But I can-”

“Why?”

Matt almost sounded like he was in pain as he tilted his head to the side to stare at you, and the anguish was plastered clear over his face. It made you feel guilty to see him this way, and you were worried how he would react to what you had been keeping from him.

“Because…I…I went off the pill. And we don’t…we don’t have anything.”

Matt’s face instantly contorted in confusion, placing his palm on the door by the side of your head as he tried to process your words.

“What? When?”

“A month ago.”

“Why?”

“Because…I just…didn’t like what it was doing to my body.”

You were hoping that Matt was so far gone he wouldn’t notice your lie, but the disappointed look on his features made your heart start to pound uncontrollably.

“Can you answer my question without lying to me.”

You internally winced at the edge in his voice. You had never lied to him before, and when he had told you the truth about being the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, you both made a promise to never lie to one another about anything. Part of your vows were to always be honest, and you felt guilty that you had messed that one up.

“That wasn’t a lie. I don’t like what it’s doing to my body. That’s just…not the main reason.”

“And what is?”

“I want a family, Matt. I know we’ve talked about it briefly, and you said you wanted one too, but I wasn’t sure if you were ever gonna slow down enough to focus on starting one with me. I just thought…I thought if it happened, you’d be so happy you wouldn’t be mad that I didn’t tell you. I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I should have told you what I was doing. I just…I want this so badly, Matty. I keep having dreams about it, it’s all I can think about lately, it’s just…like this need that’s taken over. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Matt could hear the sincerity in your voice and in your heart’s rhythm. His face softened as he listened to you, and a feeling of guilt crept up on him. He had promised you a family once the two of you got married. He did want that. There had just been so much going on lately, the idea of starting one hadn’t occurred to him.

As he opened his mouth to speak, he caught a taste of your arousal on his tongue, and suddenly realization struck him like fucking lightning.

You were ovulating.

That’s what this was. You had been on birth control the entire time you’d known Matt, so he’d never experienced this with you before. This is what was driving him fucking insane. Your body was practically screaming at him, begging him for a baby, and fuck if his body wasn’t listening. A quiet gasp left your mouth when you noticed the darkened look in Matt’s eyes. You knew that look; you saw it when the Devil came home and wanted to play.

“Matty-”

Matt ignored the warning in your voice as he crashed his lips into yours, grabbing onto the back of your head to hold you in place as he nipped at your bottom lip and soothed the sting with his tongue. In a flash he’d ripped your dress over your head and attached his lips to your neck, licking, sucking, and biting his way down to your collarbones. His fingers deftly unhooked the clasp of your bra and tugged it down your shoulders, pulling a surprised gasp from your mouth as the soft fabric of his shirt brushed over your sensitive nipples.

“Matty…what ah…what are you doing?”

Matt’s voice was dangerously low as he moved his lips up to nibble on the shell of your ear, the warmth of his breath causing a shiver to cascade down your spine.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you’re pregnant.”

An obscene moan left your lips and shot straight down to Matt’s cock. A quiet growl sounded in your ear as he lifted you up and trapped you against the door with his hips, rutting into you as his cock strained painfully against the fabric of his pants. He could feel some of your arousal seep through the material from your soaked panties, and you moaned loudly when he rubbed against you just right.

Your fingers were frantic as they clawed at his tie, nearly tearing half the buttons off his shirt as you practically ripped it off his chest. Reaching down between your bodies, you swiftly pulled the leather from Matt’s belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants as you fervently shoved them down his thighs along with his briefs just enough to free him. Matt groaned loudly as the cool air met his weeping tip, using his legs to support you as his hands completely tore your panties off your hips.

Matt didn’t waste a second, immediately penetrating the warmth of your slick walls with his thick cock. A loud moan tore through each of you, echoing throughout the entire apartment.

“Hang on.”

Matt’s voice was rough and gravely as he ordered you, and you whimpered in response as you locked your legs around his waist and gripped onto his shoulders tightly. Everytime he was inside you felt euphoric, but God this time felt different. He couldn’t pinpoint if it was because he was extra sensitive from being so turned on all day, knowing what he was about to do to you, the idea of how much everything was about to change for the two of you, or what, but it unlocked something inside him that had Matt fucking you savagely against the front door.

A tiny piece of him felt guilty for taking you like this, knowing this could be the time that resulted in the creation of your child. The good Catholic boy in him knew he should’ve made this special and been more romantic, taken his time to savor every second of this beautiful moment. But the Devil in him wanted you and wanted you now. He wanted to plant himself in the deepest part of you, claim your womb for everyone to see, because sometimes that ring wasn’t fucking enough.

Everyone would know that you were his. They wouldn’t be able to miss your swollen belly that carried his child.

As Matt’s grunts and moans in your ear became more feral, his pace got impossibly faster and brutal. He was practically slamming you into the door with each precise snap of his hips, reaching that spot inside you only he could find, tearing the loudest cries of his name from your chest. The only other thing he could hear besides your pretty sounds were the echoes of your skin slapping together and your heart thundering in his ears.

“You gonna make me a daddy, sweetheart? Gonna be a good girl and do that for me?”

“Y-yes…”

“Yes you are. Because I’m gonna come so deep in this tight little cunt of yours, over and over and over-“

Matt accentuated each of his words with powerful, quick snaps of his hips into yours.

“And I’m not letting you leave this apartment until I know for sure that it took. You understand, pretty girl?”

All you could do was moan in response as you dug your nails into Matt’s broad shoulders, letting your head fall back against the door as he fucked you how he wanted. You were completely at his mercy like this, all you could do was take it, but God it had been so long since you’d had him like this.

“You want me to make you a mommy, sweetheart? Hm?”

“Yes! Please, Matty…please.”

“Beg for it.”

Matt bared his teeth in a snarl as he dug his fingertips roughly into the flesh of your hips, marking you just as much on the outside as he planned to do on the inside. You could hardly form a coherent thought from the way he was fucking you. You were getting dangerously close to falling over that edge, and you desperately wanted him to jump with you.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let me hear it. Beg me. Beg me for a baby.”

“God…please…”

“No. Not him, me.”

“Fuck Matty-I…please…please, I want it. I want you to…g-give me a baby, please.”

“My baby. Tell me you want my baby. Let me hear it.”

You could tell Matt was close based on his falter in rhythm. His thrusts were getting sloppy, and the devil’s edge to his voice was slipping away into a needy whine. He was begging you to beg him.

“Want your baby, Matty. Just yours. Ours. Please, baby. Please give it to me.”

You gripped onto the back of Matt’s neck, pulling him in for a searing passionate kiss. Matt let out a loud yell as he finally spilled inside you, his hips stuttering as he fucked his seed as deep into you as he could, whimpering breathlessly at the way you clenched around his sensitive cock.

Both of you were sweaty, panting messes as you came down from your collective highs. Matt kept a tight grip on your hips, stumbling backwards until his back hit the wall, sliding down slowly until he let himself fall onto the floor with you on his lap. He rested his forehead against your shoulder, closing his eyes as the haze he had been in all day seemed to slowly disappear, allowing his senses to finally clear.

“Matty?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

A smile stretched across his mouth as he pulled back slightly, staring blankly at you in pure adoration.

“I love you.”

He closed his eyes as he leaned into your palm that cradled his jaw, letting out a deep exhale through his nose as the guilt started to set in.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That. I…I should’ve made that more special.”

“Matty-“

“I fucked your mom against the front door is not exactly how I want to tell our kid they were created.”

Smacking your palm against his chest, you immediately erupted into a fit of giggles that Matt couldn’t help joining.

“Matthew! First of all, our child is never going to want to know how they were created. Second of all, you have nothing to be sorry for. I love you, and I know you love me. And we love each other so much, we decided to create a life together made up of both of us. Don’t you think that’s special?”

Matt took a deep breath as his tongue quickly wet his lips, nodding his head slowly as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Good. So do I. Now, if you really feel the need to redeem that Catholic guilt of yours, we can increase our chances in bed and be as sappy as you want.”

Matt rolled his eyes as a playful smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours.

“Heaven forbid I try to show my wife a little romance.”

“Romance away, Murdock. Take me to bed and put a baby in me.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock smut #matt murdock request #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil smut #daredevil request

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wheredafandomat · 7 months

Text

Blood Lust

Written by @wheredafandomat and @simplyholl 🖤

Welcome to Whore-O-Ween everyone!!

Summary: You're sent to live with Father Laufeyson who is known for his work with wayward young ladies. But all is not as it seems.

Pairing: Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Blasphemy. Loki going down on you while you're bleeding. Loss of virginity. Masturbation. Voyeurism.

W/C: 3K

Part of the Whore-O-Ween Spooktacular

The glow of the candlelight flickered. You stood to place another log on the fire. You were locked in your room for the third time this week. Since you had come of age, the young men of the village had taken notice of you.

Now you were twenty years old, and your family was desperate to marry you off. But you had gained a reputation among the village. You were to marry the innkeeper’s son, Jonathon. But his family broke the engagement once word got to them.

You had been seen with two men alone. This was all so silly. You had never even been kissed. You were saving everything for your husband, like any devout girl would.

Your father walked in, taking the wood from you, and placing it on the dying flames. “Daughter, you know there has been talk of your sins around the village. I cannot wed you to any of the young men. Even old Mr. Smith wouldn’t accept my offer for your hand.”

Your breakfast threatened to come back up at the mention of him. He was a strange, bald man who lived a few houses down. His wife had died of influenza years ago, and he never remarried.

“Harvey told me about a priest who takes in young girls who find themselves in trouble. He will pray over you and reform you until you are ready to come home. He lives two towns over. His name is Father Laufeyson. I sent him a letter asking him to take you. His reply came this morning, and he agreed. Pack your belongings. We will make the journey when the sun rises tomorrow.”

When you arrive, you notice Father Laufeyson’s house looks more like a castle from your storybooks than the cottages you were used to. That’s probably why it was tucked away far into the woods, away from the other houses.

Two people stood outside the large house waiting for you. One was Father Laufeyson. The first thing you notice is how handsome he is. You blush, God forgive me for thinking inappropriately, especially about a man of the cloth you silently pray.

The other was a tall brunette woman. She appeared to be a few years older than you. She beamed, walking toward you. She pulls you in for a hug, “I’m Esther.” You introduce yourself, returning the hug. She takes your hand, leading you into your new home.

That night at dinner, the three of you talked like old friends. You were starving, you notice Father Laufeyson doesn’t eat much. He just sips his red wine, listening to you and Esther chatter.

The following morning you change into your best church dress, meeting him and Esther downstairs. You and Esther take a seat in the front of the church. You look at the congregation, taking note that it’s mostly women. How unusual you thought.

Where were their husbands, brothers, and fathers? You shrug it off. Church was the only place a lady could go without the company of a man. You carefully watch Father Laufeyson as he begins the service.

There was something off about him, but you couldn’t place it. It could be that you were attracted to him. That had to be it. The priest in your village was old when you were born. You just weren’t used to priests being this young. After church, he took you and Esther on a picnic for lunch. You two ate the delicious sandwiches he prepared, but he refused saying he wasn’t hungry.

You had free reign of the house except for Father Laufeyson’s room. All three of you had rooms on the same floor. Yours and Esther’s were beside each other, making it easy for late night talks. His was down the hall.

It had been four weeks since you first arrived. You liked it better with each passing day. You could take walks along the property. You could read all day, if you liked. He had quite the extensive library.

You wake up in the middle of the night when you hear Esther cry out. You leave your room, candle in hand walking toward the noise. You stop at Father Laufeyson’s room. The door is ajar just enough to peek inside. You see Esther against the wall, head thrown back in ecstasy, legs wrapped around his waist. He thrusts up into her. You gasp, covering your mouth when he looks toward the door.

You know you should leave, but you stay glued to your spot, never taking your innocent eyes off of them. Esther moans when his hand moves between them under her dress. He gathers her hair off her neck, pale face leaning down toward her.

The candlelight in his room shines on his face, putting a spotlight on his long fangs sinking into the side of her neck. He feeds on her slowly as she slumps in his arms. You press your hand harder to your mouth to stifle your cries. Tears streak down your face as you run back to your room.

You had heard about vampires before. Your village and the surrounding ones were once overrun with them. The pale beasts were all destroyed. But here you are living with one who disguised himself as a man of God.

You keep replaying what you saw over and over. He bit Esther, but she seemed to be enjoying it. You feel an unfamiliar ache between your legs from thinking about it. You run your hand up your thigh to your core. You were most likely going to die by the hands of the handsome vampire. You might as well experience a little pleasure before you do. You would beg for God’s forgiveness later. Your fingers swipe through your untouched folds, taking the slick arousal to your clit.

You move clumsily, hesitating at first. Then you imagine Father Laufeyson holding you against that wall, his teeth on your neck. You shake as your very first orgasm hits you. The following morning, it’s just you and the fake priest. “Father, where is Esther? Is she unwell?” You ask him, studying his face for a change in demeanor.

“She’s well. Her family came back for her before daylight. She went to your room to tell you goodbye, but you were sleeping so soundly, she didn’t want to wake you.” You put on your best fake smile. Esther was dead, and the beast before you killed her. You tried to avoid him as much as possible in the following days.

But you had to dine with him, even if he didn’t eat. You still had to attend church with him. Other than that, you stayed hidden in your room. You were terrified of him, but that didn’t stop you from fantasizing about him. You spent your nights with your hand under your nightgown or humping your pillow thinking of him.

It was shameful, but you couldn’t stop. You felt so guilty after making yourself cum twice in one night, you got down on your knees, praying for forgiveness, begging for it. That night, you dreamt that you drove a stake through his heart, ending this misery. You took it as a sign from God. This is what you were meant to do.

Father Laufeyson took you into town. You waited until he went into the store, and you walked to the woodworker’s shop. You commissioned an oak stake. They looked at you like you had lost your mind. They told you the last of the vampires had been destroyed long ago. But the coins Laufeyson gave you put food on the table for their families.

You had to wait three long weeks before he took you into town again. When you got the chance, you went to retrieve the weapon. That night, you decided it was time. You couldn’t live with him anymore, not after knowing what he is. You had to fulfill your purpose. You knew he was at the church preparing his sermon for the next morning. You ran the whole way there, heart racing.

You stepped inside cautiously, trying to ignore the chill of the air telling you to turn back around, to run away. But you couldn’t. Your feet carried you forward, surprisingly confident, unlike yourself. Confidence, that’s what you needed, what you tried to embody, that was your protection against the pale beast.

You flinched as a jolt of lightning shone through the church, lighting everything in a quick spark of chrome before you were in darkness again, except for a few candles. You knew you had to act as if nothing was wrong, as if you didn’t know. Survival was only guaranteed that way.

“Y/N.” You took a deep breath hearing your name fall from his lips in a honeyed utterance. “Father.” You greeted him, the faux priest, as you stepped towards him. “Come, child.” He gestured to the organ, prompting you to follow him. “Sit.” You fought to keep your breathing steady as you approached him, biting your lip to stop it from trembling as you observed him.

You were told that his kind would perish in a place like this, that they would burn. But here he was making a mockery of God, wearing an idle collar and parading around untouchable. But not after tonight. Many times, you had shared this seat with him, ignoring the cold that his presence brought, ignoring the call to sin when he looked at you, emerald green eyes boring into yours.

Tonight was different, you couldn’t relax. “What ails you?” He questioned, lifting his hand and stroking a key with one of his dexterous fingers. “I believe I may have found my calling.” You answered, taking a deep breath as you raised one of your fingers onto the keys. “Your calling” He repeated almost questioningly. “Other than to serve your god?” My God?” “God.” He corrected. “Yes, I believe he has asked me to serve Him in another way.” You continued, both of you gently playing a familiar tune.

“Pray tell, what is this other way? What is this newfound calling?” “I must protect this Earth.” You stated, using your free hand to clutch the weapon in your pocket. “From what?” He questioned, turning to look at you with a small smirk. “From me?” “What?” You gasped, trying to keep your breaths even. “Do you really think a piece of oak would be enough to stop me?” He snickered.

“I mean honestly” He continued, leaning towards you, his mouth dangerously close to your neck as you froze. “You underestimate me.” He noted coyly, reaching around you, grabbing the cross stake from your other hand. “No!” You cry, still frozen in fear as he threw it across the room. “On the contrary, I do believe you have another calling.” He stated, standing before stepping behind you.

“A more carnal one.” He continued; his voice sharp in your ear as he leaned over you. “I mean you serve a man no more virtuous than yourself” He paused as you gasped. “I’ve read the books.” He cut you off. “You serve a man no more virtuous than yourself, yet you reap no rewards.”

“I will be rewarded with an eternity in His kingdom.” You spat. “How about a night in mine?” He smirked against your ear, causing you to spin around. “You’d never admit it, but you’ve sinned more than me.” “Don’t you dare say that!” “You think I don’t know you touch yourself thinking about me, yearning for me, even after you found out exactly who I am, what I am?”

“S-stop.” You stuttered. “Grinding against your pillow, moaning my name. Oh! It’s music to my ears.” He cheered. “I’m offering you a night of sin, a night with me.” He proclaimed. “I won’t judge you. I welcome your debauchery. I’ll cherish your moans. I’ll reward your praise.” “St-stop it.” You continued to stutter, clenching your thighs together.

“Burn with me, Y/N, just for tonight.” He whispered, leaning closer to you, his lips brushing against yours as you close your eyes. “I’ve never been touched.” You emitted nervously; eyes still closed. “I know, but you want to be. It’s what you have spent so long desiring.” He spoke against your lips, one of his hands ghosting down your body as your breath hitched.

He didn’t have to push your legs apart; they were already gapped from your quick spin around. You inhaled sharply as you felt him cup your sex, eyes opening to find him staring into yours. “Is this where you touch yourself when you think about me?” He smirked, his hand moving up and down, massaging against your clothed heat.

“Rubbing yourself, imagining me, my hand, my body until you reach there, that sweet release.” He almost cooed, his hand more pressured now. You tried to stave away the temptation of bucking your hips into his touch, but it was hard. It felt too good. You wanted more. You needed more. You needed him to do what he did to Esther. “Tell me what you desire, and I’ll do it.” “Take it.” You answered almost breathlessly. “It?”

“My purity, take it.” “That’s my girl.” He purred in your ear again, before his free hand gripped your chin, pulling you into a deep kiss. His tongue pushed passed yours, exploring your mouth. His other hand was still between your legs, your hips thrusting into his touch.

Now that his lips were properly on yours, you realized how cold they were, how gelid. Your hands reached upwards, cupping his cheeks which were no warmer than his lips. You tried to stay silent, but you couldn’t, not when you felt his hand slipping underneath your skirt, fingers smoothing over the cloth material of your panties.

“Father!” You gasped as two of his fingers pushed your underwear to the side, meeting your clit. “Loki.” He corrected. “Loki” you moaned, eyes closing as he drew languid circles over your clit. “You virgins are so receptive.” He sniggered. “You’re already so wet for me.” His name fell from your lips again as he continued his movements, his fingers growing slick from your arousal. Lost in the pleasure, you almost didn’t realize that his fingers were venturing lower down your center.

Your eyes flew open, feeling him enter you slowly. “L-Loki” You stuttered feeling full. “Do you like that?” He asked, leisurely pumping his fingers in and out of you. “Yesss” You hum in response, drowning in the sensation. You felt overwhelmed, you were wetter than you’ve ever been.

Small moans escaped you as Loki continued thrusting his fingers inside of you. A metallic scent evaded your nose. As if he could smell it too, Loki stopped his movements causing you to open your eyes, only for them to round in surprise at the sight of his fingers. They were practically glistening crimson. You barely had time to react before Loki was bringing them to his lips, licking off the blood.

“What’s happening?” You panicked, despite not being in any pain. “It’s normal.” Loki answered, releasing his index finger with a pop. The remembrance of what he was overcame you as a blanket of guilt shrouded you. You didn’t feel good anymore. Before Loki could continue, you began closing your legs wanting to leave. You wanted to forget about all of this, but instead you yelped, feeling him grab one of your legs and pushing them further apart as he got to his knees. He slid your panties off your legs, discarding them on the floor.

“One can’t prepare a feast and expect others not to dine.” He spoke cryptically before you felt his cold, wet tongue against your core lapping up the blood dripping from you. Your hands flew to his hair, gripping it tightly as he entered you with his tongue, washing any hesitation away. You couldn’t help but scream in pleasure at the feeling of his nose rubbing your clit as he feasted on you.

“Delicious.” He spoke against you as you shamelessly ground your hips against his face. You were overcome with delectation despite the fact that this was more than just a carnal encounter. “I need you, Loki.” You finally implored, interrupting Loki’s banquet. Glancing up at you, he lifted his head from between your legs, licking his lips clean as he lowered your leg. His hand found yours as he prompted you to join him on the floor.

You did so, wordlessly straddling him like you imagined so many nights alone with your pillow. He felt good underneath you, like it was where he belonged. Your bare sex rubbed against his clothes as you readjusted yourself, Loki looking up into your eyes. “Is this how you want me to take you?” He spoke, breaking the silence. “Yes.” You replied, trying to quell your nervousness. Loki didn’t talk as he unsheathed himself before guiding you above his manhood.

He watched your expression as he thrusted up into you, his hands on your hips pushing you down against him. You couldn’t help your moans as he filled you, burying himself inside you. You move your hips against his, living out your fantasy. You found yourself growing closer to the end, to your release, to his demise. He was obviously moving slower for you, you had watched him move a lot faster for Esther, and for that you’d make sure you were as quick as you could be.

Leaning down against him, your lips almost brushed his again as you reached out, your fingers wrapping around the discarded stake. Loki was right, it was oak. Well, most of it. What he didn’t know was that the tip was willow, lethal. “You feel so good, so pure.” Loki groaned from beneath you, gripping your hips tightly as you sat back up.

His eyes were closed, that’s how he didn’t see it, how he didn’t know he was in danger. You continued grinding your hips against his, your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you neared your climax. Walls tightly gripping Loki’s length, you raise your hand before plunging the stake into his chest.

Loki’s eyes flew open, the betrayal evident on his features as his life slipped away. You felt powerful, immensely so, as you took his life, draining him, milking him. You moaned as your climax shook you. This was it; this was your calling.

Tags 🖤

@lokischambermaid @gruftiela @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @itsybitchylittlewitchy @wolfsmom1 @gigglingtiggerv2 @chantsdemarins @buttercupcookies-blog @lokisgoodgirl @donaweasley @muddyorbsblr @litaloni @lovingchoices14 @mochie85 @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @glitchquake @goblingirlsarah @multifandom-worlds @kats72 @eleniblue @mischief2sarawr @anukulee @joyful-enchantress @fictive-sl0th @marygoddessofmischief @lulubelle814 @evelyn-rathmore @lokiestorch @ladymischief11 @valarieravenhearst1 @cakesandtom @monkey0105 @dj-murasaki @ririsutty73 @cindylynn @violethaze @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#oc fiction #loki fanfiction #tom hiddelston loki #loki smut #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki imagines #whore-o-ween #loki x you smut #loki au fic #loki au #halloween fic #Loki

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starshipsofstarlord · 21 days

Text

not yet corpses. still, we rot.

summary. you were surviving after the prison fell, whilst you felt lost deep inside of yourself. without daryl, and the others that you had lost and yet to find, everything only seemed to get worse. and all was proven when the claimers interrupted your futile attempts of avoiding nightmares

warnings. death, gore, violence, angst, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, swearing, mentions of s.a, mentions of death

notes. i changed the specification of the timeline a tiny bit, i moved the timeline of the smut into a flash back as in my head y/n and daryl would be too on guard to fuck after all that trauma. i hope you enjoy my attempt at writing your request, i’d love to know your thoughts 🖤

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

The crickets sung as aspiring performers in the midst of the fire’s crackling, you were cold, tired and hungry, and all that you wanted to hear was the epiphany of silence. Each limb in your body ached sourly from the endless trekking that you had participated within, the chance to close your eyes and rest sounded spectacular.

But you refrained from succumbing to a fuelling slumber, for you would only be haunted by the reality of the situation that you had no home, and members of your found family were lost to the land that crawled with ravenous walkers… or dead.

The warmth provided from the flames was greatly appreciated by your bumpy flesh, and you stared distantly into the licking of sunset coloured mirage of the makeshift campfire. It dried the whites of your eyes to an irritating texture, however it was better than facing the truth behind the pitiful glances that the three survivors that you had structured the prison alongside donated in your direction.

You weren’t looking for sorrowful attention, you just wanted to find as many of your group as you could, selfishly Daryl more than others. The plain silver band on your finger glinted from the source of radiating and manmade light, flickering your memory back to you and Daryl tying the knot in a place that you had hoped would remain secure.

If it wasn’t for the Governor and his manipulated army, then it would have. You were glad they had their fates, or at least you assumed they all had considering the destruction that had been waged in the graveyard like grounds. There were countless lives that you had ensured were ended as you did your best to ensure that they would regret their life ruining choices.

The clouds grew agitatedly darker within the midnight sky above you, and to the dismay of your body’s survivalist needs, your shoulders shrunk from the bitter air as Rick extinguished the source of warmth. As you idly sat by, remaining in your shroud of speechless presence, Rick escorted Carl to the immobile vehicle, allowing him to sleep on the backseats for extra protection from the horrors that could possibly creep up on you in the night.

Michonne moved closer to you, placing her hand which rarely not held her executing samurai on your jacket clothed bicep, the moment was tender considering that she was doing her utmost to comfort you. “He’s out there,” she spoke with confidence, believing each word that left her mouth. “He’s a survivor, and he knows what he’s doing out there.”

“We were all survivors.” It was a statement, one that caused you great misery to say. “But in the end nobody survives, we’re all going to die one day, and some of the people out there are worse than the walkers. There’s no saying what has happened to the others… to Daryl…” You shook your head, trailing off into a weight of what one would describe as tranquility.

For you however, it was a reminder that in your future everything would be mute. The outbreak would demolish the remaining population of every single species, tainting them with transformative virus until the new and ‘improved’, infinite flock of homo sapiens lay ruin and feast to anything that breathed. The world now belonged to the dead, they were suitably adapted to the unforgiving nature of the world.

Their past minds had been erased, the concepts of a once modern life vanquished as society was. There was nought memories of waiting in endless queues in supermarkets, or eating a buttered bucket of popcorn in a movie theatre. All that corrupted the simple minds of the corpses was necessity to devour anything that they envisioned as food - your mindsets were now of similar values in that slim respect.

Just thinking of your mouth being bitterly tainted with a murderous wash of irony blood revolted you; it was something that you would never swallow, literally. Ripping into human flesh with your very teeth was a repulsive reminder that one bite, or a death without a deadly pressure to the brain, would turn you into one of those monsters. You had to remain alert, despite your body’s almost hypnotic drowsiness to fall asleep.

At least Rick and Michonne had each other, even if they did not acknowledge the true depth of their reciprocated support. You could tell that through their reunion something had changed within their dynamic, and you missed the deep likeness of companionship that you had shared with Daryl. Often times than not, you and the southern blooded archer would be among the seemingly endless forestation that surrounded the safe homestead of the prison, tracking and hunting critters that could surpass as an edible hors d'oeuvres.

There would be bashful conversations drifting between the two of you, whether that be a suave competition of whom could catch the most lustre of nut harbouring squirrels, or- well, in simpler terms, a concoction of unholy words that would prevail when he was erratically buried inside of your cunt. You’d go at it like rabbits in prosperous heat whilst present in the woods; the prison had no privilege of privacy since the residents of Woodbury had adjoined with the residing numbers.

And that was the thing you missed the absolute most, having your man close, in any which way. That cramped bunk within your sheet concealed cell was something you’d die for currently, you adored being pressed up against Daryl’s chest, listening to his tame heart beat, as you fell tentatively asleep.

Watch was more exhausting than it appeared, with a traipse dignifying each of your steps, you rubbed your heavy eyelids, hoping to excuse the tiredness that was overwhelming your body. In your dominant hand you used your shotgun as a walking cane, forcing yourself to return to your cell that you missed dearly. It was better than falling into a shrouding slumber in the middle of the hall; that almost sounded tempting, considering you wouldn’t have to move any further through the large prison, but you had more reason than a cot to sleep on calling your name.

And you saw it as you achingly slid past the hanging drape of a sheet that allowed some privacy in the individual cell that you always returned to and housed your random array of nicknacks that you had picked up on runs into permanently closed stores. Daryl’s body was strewn across the thin mattress, his hand laid across his face covering his depth-full eyes, as his chest rose and fell in an irregular accordance - he was still conscious, unable to doze off into plentiful rest.

Your lips tugged in an endearing smile that he couldn’t see, and you couldn’t resist from creeping closer. That was all you required, to be close to him. There were only a handful of steps remaining until you got to your desired destination, and without so much of a thought, you persevered. “Hey.” The tone that radiated from you was weak, throughout the daytime, your schedule had been filled with condemning tasks which were necessary to keep the smooth run of the prison a constant. Whilst you were doing your maintenance, there had been a not so big, yet not so small, hoard of walkers appear from over the horizon.

Michonne had joined you with handling their swift executions, but your shoulders ached from the striking violence, and the dragging of water caskets; the council, of which you were a part of, had decided to move them out of the sun so their contents would be of a hydrating temperature.

“Ya okay sunshine?” Daryl rolled around so that he was on his side, and sat up on the edge of the bed with a crouching back so that he could view your approach of him. You came to stand between his legs, enjoying the sensation of his hands running around your hips, their warmth filling you with comfort. To lull into the atmosphere which was turning sensual, your fingers coiled in his hair, running through the locks that had grown over the months.

His nose ran softly up your stomach, as he buried his face into your form, having reciprocated your yearning for his company. With a smooth drag from his strong arms, you fell delightedly into his lap, your faces meeting in a staring match as he brushed the side of your face with his hand. “Love ya, so fuckin’ much, my stunnin’ girl.” He mumbled, leading your lips to his in a slow and meaningful collision. The moment was tender, doused in every word that you were too exhausted to say aloud. You were communicating via your actions, discarding the apparel that concealed your bottom halves, giving you the opportunity to slide your cunt down on his erect cock.

You felt blissfully full, the qualms that had bent you to their will through the day slipping instantaneously away. The cupping of your palms positioned themselves on his exposed shoulders, and you ground your hips together, feeling his tip prod deep within you. Daryl shuffled back, kicking his legs out as he wrapped his arms around your frame, treating you so delicately as he fucked you from below. His lips cascaded along every inch of skin that your tank left bare, expressing his adoration for you with his lips and the little circles he drew along your hips. He could never get enough of being close to you, since the first time the two of you had shared together, he had gained more confidence with his role in the sexual situations you shared.

The breaths that huffed past your lips in attempts of being quiet were addictive to his ears, he was desperate to get an audible sound to fester out of you, but the pleasured expression that was imposed on your face was enough; he knew that he was making you feel amazing, and in these lovemaking events, that was all that mattered to him. He groaned at the thought of being somewhere private, where you could make a sound without disturbing anybody, or risking walkers stumbling upon you.

You were close, Daryl could feel it, your walls clenched uncontrollably around his length, which drove him wild, and cautiously he bucked his hips upwards a little faster, careful not to cause the bed to squeak to badly as there were people sleeping in both cells either side your own. He sat further up, his back straighter so that he could brush his teeth gently along your jaw, driving you wild as your hands drove beneath the sleeveless sides of his shirt, caressing his scarred flesh with tentativeness.

You were snapped out of your daydream in the omnipotent dark as you felt the scuffing of crinkling leaves, and before you could adjust into defensive action, there was a cold metal muzzle pressed into your muzzle, by a man with silver locks and a denim vest suited to his greedy physique. Without a doubt, these were the same men that had traipsed upon the house that you and Rick had been inhabiting whilst Michonne and Carl were strolling the streets.

They were claimers to objects they valued as things that their greed thirsted for, and you shuddered a breath as the man threatening your life steadied his grotesque arm upon your shoulder all the whilst he opened his mouth to converse impolitely. “Maybe we’ll keep this one alive, she’s a looker.” It felt as though he was bragging about the possibility to his hungry followers that you could be his property.

He recognised Rick that was for sure. You’d been a witness to the man that had taken it upon himself to cozy his fat ass on the toilet, and the way in which his throat was denied oxygen to passage through it. You and Rick had been huddled under the bed that dipped from their pocket heavy weights as you had ran to awaken him as you were certain you’d heard something before they bustled into the once home to a stranger that was no doubt long dead. And in your escape, you had put a deadly pressure on the invader’s throat… until he permanently passed out.

To exasperate your distaste for his misogynistic idea, you spat upon the ground, your nostrils flaring as you dared to spin your head back so that his gun was resting upon your forehead. If he was going to shoot, he might as well make it quick, considering you didn’t intend to be alive if they had the intentions of taking sick advantage of your body.

As you prepared to retort an insult that foully would cause further trouble for you and your friends, they momentarily became distracted but still alert as a figure slunk onto the clearing. You had to allow your vision to focus, and when it did, you were shocked in the best possible way. It was Daryl, and he was certainly alive. He seemed to be acquainted with this pack of scavengers, and you realised that the ordeal in which he had went through was the only way in which he could have survived.

He didn’t liken association with low lives that threatened those he cared about, however he hadn’t seen their full nature until now. Daryl felt at a crossroads as he took complete acknowledgment of the weapon that was frozen against your skull; he couldn’t be rash, they were a lousy, impulsive group, and he was lit with elation in every cell of his body to see that you were still breathing.

“Jus’ hold up.” His gentle footsteps were slowly approaching in a careful regard as his voice strained with caution. He couldn’t help but eye Joe up - he had a gun to your damn head! If he pulled that trigger… he wouldn’t allow that bullet to be released. You were far too great a risk to have on the line, he had to settle this, like a man. Rick was squinting up at him, determining the reason for the unsurprising reaction the claimers had given his presence.

“One of these two is the one that killed Lou so we got nothing to talk about.” The rugged, richly certain statement fled from one of the thieving men, as he had his long barrel raised, Rick being the focus on the end of his gun that had most likely been stolen in the crossfires of their apocalyptic journey. Anything was loot to them, even with their rules, they were scoundrels no doubt before the end of the world had began, and they would leave it no different. But Daryl wasn’t willingly going to allow them to either kill or claim you, your worth was insanely precious, and he wouldn’t allow all you had been through to be for nothing.

“The thing about nowadays is we got nothin’ but time.” Joe said from behind you, realising that finally, Daryl had proven himself despite the cautionary warnings and delivered punishments that the archer had bore witness to, but he was just to be a loss to them if he didn’t get behind the way, then he would just be an obstacle in the way. “Say your piece Daryl.” This was his final chance, but he had been given an opportunity. Joe liked to think of himself as an understanding man, there was always a reason as to why a swine didn’t want to roll in the mud; his gaze noticed that your eyes didn’t deter away from the redneck that was new to his ranks. There was an expression that he didn’t recognise upon upon your face, but he was willing to use it for his own purposes if it came to such a crossroads.

“These people…” Daryl cast his eyes momentarily at you again, as though he was pleading for you to remain still and allow him to be the peacemaker. And you subtly nodded, brows drawing together as you concentrated on the group members who had taken up space in your surroundings. “You gon let em go. These are good people.” He was attempting to find some humanity in this man who was leaning like a shadow over you, if there was any. It was the same careful traipse of dialogue that he would use with Merle when he was being inconsiderate before the outbreak, it hardly worked, his brother would laugh and call him a pussy, but Daryl had learned how to use his heart.

It was there to love, and whilst it still felt new, to be loved. These were his people, you were his person, and it was his responsibility to save you. He had tried to protect Beth, and whilst she had gotten out of that mortuary house with her life in tact despite the wave of walkers that had invaded through the front door, she still had to be alive. And so did the others, wherever in the country they were, no one was weak, each of you had your own strengths and that would get you somewhere. It had to.

“Now I-I-I think Lou would disagree with yer on that.” The grey haired man stuttered, and you weren’t sure whether it was due to the lack of respect he felt from Daryl whom he had taken in as one of his own - a stray, or if he felt inferior. You supposed it was the latter, there was a continual pattern with each man that fought for power that you had noticed after your encounters. They feared any soul opposing them, it made them appear frail and insecure, just like the Governor had been with the instances involving Andrea and Michonne. “I’ll of course have to speak for him an’ all because your friends here strangled him in a bathroom.”

Guilt overflowed like a faucet in your throat; you didn’t regret killing ‘Lou’. Rick had been your supporting witness, but there were no longer court trials condemned to determine the punishments for living, instead those that thought they were in control of the passers-by that they encountered - and to them, what fit every crime was death. There was now nought reason for you to brood in your squalor, you could see Daryl’s face, and if that was the last image that you had earned before the end of your life, you were glad. Though you were stubborn to go out fighting, otherwise your entire life after the prison; the tears, the passiveness, and the little amount of blood that had spilt from you would all have been for nothing.

“You want blood, I get it.” Daryl read them, Joe had already killed one of his own men, he wouldn’t hesitate when it came to a found family of strangers. They weren’t good people, they were miscreants that had given him the choice to either join them on their sin induced travelling, or die. And he had been broken, lost and alone, there had been no other choice if he had the intent of surviving in order to drains you. With disregard, he threw his arms in a stance, disarming himself as his crossbow flew out of his hands, falling on the ground, showcasing that he had an offer that Joe would not justify with a refusal “Take it from me man. Come on.”

Your heart swelled, Daryl was putting his own life on the line so that he could save you and your friends. A glaze of emotion was cast over your eyes, as you tried to slow your heartbeat, if you panicked, none of you would get out of this. “This man and woman killed our friend. You say their good people.” It was ironic, if you weren’t so shocked you would have stifled a laugh. These people weren’t friends, there weren’t any tears for their dear Lou, no, they craved any excuse to take and take and take. The revenge they were stubborn with pursuing was only a reason to get their hands bloody, and feel powerful as they got further away from the concept of being a human. “Now that right there i-i-is a lie. It’s a lie!”

Daryl couldn’t bargain through this, they were set in stone when it came to their perception of inflicting both emotional and physical pain. With disappointed defeat, his arms flopped haplessly at his sides, as he continued to stand straight. He had to get through to them! They could budge just a little, he just had to encourage them, make them believe that letting you live was the wrong thing to do. “C’mo-” Before he could continue his pleads to be the centre of violent attention, one of the lowlife claimers wretched their foot into his stomach, causing him to wheeze uncontrollably from the harsh impact.

At the sight alone of him getting hurt, it was on instinct that you prepared to swerve into action. You had to stop this, you had to save him. Your hands scratched against the golden leaves that were all over the ground as you tried to scramble up on your feet, attempting to prevent further bruising or blood withdrawal from Daryl’s body, however a sharp pain flew through your scalp. Joe had grabbed you, maintaining you as his hostage as his fingers weaved aggressively through your hair, forcing you to jut your chin out from the painful discomfort.

“Teach him fellas.” His tone was strong as he beckoned his orders, his deep, soulless eyes twitching from the agitation that had pent up within him. “Teach him all the way.” He ensured that they were aware of what he wanted, and the rest of the claimers were gratified to comply with his protocol of brutality, shoving Daryl up against the frozen vehicle, the clash of his body against it being audible from where you knelt. They threw punch after hateful punch, and Daryl struggled to maintain his stance against them; it was two against one.

“C’mere boy.” The words were growled out through the open car door, as Carl was dragged away from the hiding space. He couldn’t escape, and the claimers were getting the best of your group, and they were in afraid to draw blood. A knife was held firmly against the boy’s throat, and your eyes bulged from the petrifying suspense. Tears slipped from Carl’s blue eyes that had witnessed far too much for his age, and Rick began to panic. Lori had lost her life when she was birthing Judith, who now was also somewhere in the unknown, probably dead. He wouldn’t fail as a father a second time and allow his remaining child to die. “You leave him be!” Rick bellowed, which only made the sick men chuckle at his despair as they held him down from writhing towards an escape to rescue his son.

“Listen it was me! It was just me!” The words shrieked from your lips, as you felt a pool of despair puddle in your eyes. This was all because of you, perhaps if you hadn’t panicked within the moment of entrapment, and you hadn’t forlorn Lou to whichever afterlife lay after the present, then the claimers would have spared you, envisioning you as stragglers that had done no harm. There was a debt to be paid; a score that Joe felt he had to settle, and it was all because of your pathological actions. If anyone had to own up and pay the cost of taking the life of their adjoined associate, it should be you.

They wanted a permanent justice of a life, and you were happy enough to allow them to take it, as long as you were deemed the victim. That said however, if there was a route away from a pledged sentence, you would take it so that your entire family, including you would be spared. You just had to wait for the opportunity to present itself, and then there would be no hesitation on your part. “See now that’s right.” Joe’s words saturated your spine with a discerning flavour of fright, as he pushed the threatening metal harsher against the shell of your brain.

Rick’s eyes drifted in a frantic debauch between his sobbing son, who was thrashing under the weight of the gruesome man who conveyed him as nothing more than an activity; he’d enjoy watching him die; and you, whom was rigid from head to toe. His mind tried its damndest to calculate a way to save you both, you’d become like a sister to him despite the arrogance that you’d greeted him with back at the Atlanta camp, blaming him dreadfully for Merle’s captivity on that rooftop, rather than Merle and his big, loud and agonising mouth that tended to land him in a swarm of trouble. You had always been on Daryl’s side, but now you shared a connection after the fleeting experiences that had doubtlessly backed you against a wall.

“That’s not some damn lie. Look we can settle this, we’re reasonable men.” Joe reasoned with self interest and vengeance, his stone irises scouring languidly down your tense body from above, a little impressed that a woman had managed to withdraw the life of one of his boisterous comrades. His breath heaved down on you, making your skin crawl with distaste. And so he continued, making you all the more seasoned with spite. “First we’re gonna beat Daryl to death. Then your friend next to you. Then the other girl. Then the boy. And then we shoot you and then we’ll be square.” His maniacal laugh retorted in an echo, as his words truly sunk in. There had been enough devastation, and you viewed each of those you cared for with compassion.

Carl was writhing across the golden leaves that appeared gray beneath the silver moon, leaking from his tear ducts with agonising fear. Rick was stern with his demanding pleas that did nothing but resort humour into the audience that had you at gun point. Michonne was wide eyes and prepared for any intrusion that could occur, silently realising that you would be the culprit to begin a ravenous fight. And Daryl, god Daryl was swinging his arm back as much as he was able, losing against the two men that had the delight of using him as a punching bag. You couldn’t wait any longer, no one was on their way to save you, there was no other choice but try again, planning on a physical tactic this time.

“Let them go.” You hissed dangerously thro the your teeth, flickering your eyes around one last time, managing to make eye contact with Michonne, the gun against her braided head remind you that it was now or never. Joe felt hilarity from your demand, and you repeated it in an increased volume, distracting him with the sound of your voice before you threw your head back, whacking the man behind you with a mind numbing force. The bang of a bullet stirred a hazy cast across your field of vision, spiring a high pitched scream of white noise in your ears, but it was worth it. Joe had stumbled aback, the impact having arose a newfound course of adrenaline to fluster through your pumping veins.

With the rush that jolted you into a spiralling spree of sudden action, you span around, standing upon your two feet as you threw a heavy punch to your enemy’s tired face, a concerned look transpiring upon Rick’s face, as Daryl failed with unfortunate consequences to prevail in his hand to hand combat hustle. In return, you had earned a blow to the face, the force of Joe’s fist causing you to be upon the floor once again. “Oh it’s gonna be so much worse now.” To support his promise, his foot met with your ribs, causing a holler and a pained gasp to escape you; there would no doubt be a bruise left if you survived this assault.

Another slap brandished your face with a stinging hue, as you stumbled up, staggering slightly as you did your best to focus on winning this physical battle. “Come on, get up! Come on, let’s see whatcha got.” He was teasing you, drowning you with anger from the mockery he betrothed you with, as a red line ran pleasantly from his nose. “C’mere!” He growled, prompting you for more, and to see his blood spill was a divine gift, even as he breathed disgustedly against you as he grabbed you by the waist, holding you in front of his body. “What the hell you gonna do now slut?”

There was no possibility of escaping his grip with your form alone, he was a sturdy man, albeit an evil one, but he had you in his monstrous clutch. Your brain racked with a free flow of a matching immoral high ground, and thus you thought of the walkers, and how they took life. Your noggin tossed back in a flurry of monstrosity, your teeth gnashing until they pried formlessly upon his throat, the flesh running between each porcelain tooth as you found purchase in the skin, tugging with animosity, until the torn fragment of his body was pulled away, blood spattering in a revolted spray from your mouth.

The claimer gradually fell, pausing his team from their desolate nature of commanding death as their leader met his end, laying in a lifeless pile on the ground. Michonne and Rick pursued their captor’s, sweeping their lives away in a more sophisticated fashion than you had, and Daryl gained the upper hand from your repulsive distraction. As Rick fled from where he had knelt, he sprinted to pursue Carl’s release, as you remained still, shocked with your own tactile second nature. Your face was half covered in blood, like you were a young child whom had gotten into their mother’s makeup bag, but that wasn’t the reality. You shook, astounded with trauma.

Arms coiled around you, as Daryl held your crimson chin in his hand, looking lovingly at you despite the circumstances that had lead to your freedom. “Sunshine.” The term was distinctly ironic, but the cigarette husk that adorned his throat remained full of love. Since the outbreak you had all had to complete extensive steps to remain breathing, and your breath stuttered as you wanted nothing more than to bury your face in your archer’s chest, but he held your head up, as he dragged the red rag from his pocket, swiping across the stain that made the rag even redder. As you looked around yourself, you saw past the massacre and felt relief.

This was home; these people, especially the one right in front of you. His hand stroked roughly against your cheek as a long, heartfelt peck was planted upon your forehead. He had found you, in this sick world that had all of you lost. You smiled at him, resting your forehead against his as you shared a harmonious breath. “I’m just happy your alive Dixie.” You tried to uplift the mood, as did Rick and Michonne, as they fussed with care over Carl. Daryl couldn’t care less for the state that you were displayed in, he pulled you closer, unable to resist your lips. You shared a kiss, it was passionate and filled with circumstantial desperation, your hands pulled at his neck as you tried to get his face closer.

You could only move on from this happening, there was no dwelling. There was no guilt bore in your chest, those that tried ripping you apart deserved a worse fate, and you had only been fair since considering the consequences they had imposed on forcing you to experience. The Governor was the same, and so would the next foolish soul that failed the lengths that you would all go through to protect each other. You felt sick from the vehemence that had concurred from your body, but you had found more pieces of your familial puzzle, and you had every intention of finding the rest.

#daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon fic

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turtletaubwrites · 23 days

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Misty Eyes ~ Part 3

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. *This part contains two Doffy flashbacks with a graphic depiction of violence including blood, murder of an unnamed character, and the reader being sick, as well as implied sexual encounters. Doffy flashback sections are marked between these symbols ~🦩🦩🦩~ so you can skip past them if you'd like. The chapter begins with one of these graphic memories, but ends with some Hurt/Comfort & sweet fluff!

Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past & Flashbacks)

Word Count: 5768

Misty Eyes Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: You try to acclimate to life aboard this yellow submarine, but your past keeps tearing you apart. All that Doffy made you do feels like a stain on your soul, and you're afraid you'll never be clean.

Author's Note: This one gets really fucked up, but I hope the sweet ending makes up for it! 🖤 I have added the dead dove do not eat tag, so please heed the warnings, and do not read if they might be triggering for you.

Thank you so much @pinejayyfor this delicious request!!

Rating/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Donquixote Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Kissing, Shame, Blood and Violence, Vomiting, Minor Character Death, (unnamed character), Sparring, Childhood Memories, Chaste Childhood Kiss, Teasing, Tickling, Yandere Donquixote Doflamingo, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags To Be Added

!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Another simple mission too much for you, Y/N?”

Doffy ducked a bit as he sauntered into the room, his voice making your enemy freeze with her sea prism stone blade to your throat.

“Young mast–”

Your target smirked at you, pressing the tip of the blade into your flesh, just enough to cut your words.

“Are you good and scared,” she taunted, ignoring the powerful man at her back.

Is she fucking stupid? She has to know who he is.

Doffy grinned as he moved closer, until you saw yourself reflected in his sunglasses over your enemy’s head. Neither of the menacing figures before you moved or spoke for a moment, leaving your mind in chaos.

I failed him again. He’s not helping me. Why would he? I’m worthless.

The woman chuckled, showing no fear as the future king of the pirates towered over her. Until his large hand fisted her hair, lifting her until her toes barely touched the ground. A shocked cry left her lips, her satisfied smirk torn away as she struggled to free herself.

“You really can’t do anything on your own, can you?”

Humiliation poured over you, making you wish that the blade had cut you deeper. The prick of blood on your throat wasn’t nearly enough to drown your shame.

The woman laughed, even as she struggled in Doffy’s grasp. She choked on that laughter as the blade in her hand flew toward her own neck, tugged by invisible strings.

“Wait, you said–”

Those frantic eyes had tried to look toward the young master, but her words ended as a flood of red left her throat. Doffy laughed, watching your wide eyes while the woman thrashed. The blade clattered to the floor as a rain of bright, hot blood fell upon it. He took a step toward you, letting all that cherry red cascade down your chest as you stared into the woman’s dying eyes.

She reached for you, dragging her nails across your throat.

“You’re really gonna let this trash disrespect our family? Disrespect me,” Doffy questioned, as bile rose in your throat.

“N-No, I’m sorry young–”

“Finish it. Pick up the knife, and gut her.”

The woman was still struggling, still fighting, but you knew it wouldn’t be long.

I have to prove myself.

You couldn’t move.

“Do it, Y/N,” Doffy threatened, his voice low as he shoved her closer. That hot blood poured over your face as he lifted her higher.

You fell to your knees, somehow finding the blade through the red that had covered your eyes, spitting it out of your mouth as you used the wall to stand back up.

“There you go. Prove you can do something right, Y/N.”

Blinking through the blood, you held the blade to the woman’s stomach, throwing up before you could pierce her flesh.

Doffy dropped that lightly twitching body as you started to retch, stepping back to watch you cover your enemy in your own pathetic disgrace.

Choking on sobs as your stomach emptied over the nearly dead form, you tried to wipe and hide your face. There was no way to hide from Doffy, his manic grin looming near as he crouched beside you.

“Such a pathetic sight. To think that a member of my family could fail me like this,” he tutted, ripping your heart to shreds.

“I’m so sorry, young master, I–”

Your fingers slipped in the blood and sick on the floor as you tried to push yourself up, until your body moved on its own.

No. Not on its own.

Doffy moved it, his fingers extending as he controlled you. A disgusting marionette, dripping with the evidence of shame.

“So disappointing.”

The young master’s voice weighed you down, even as he held your body up. He directed your movements, forcing you to walk as though you were proud of the sticky failure on your skin.

I’m nothing. I don’t deserve to live. I don’t deserve his love.

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Y/N, hey, you’re okay–”

“I couldn’t do it, I’m too weak. I’m so sorry, young–”

Nausea tore through you, the fight to keep from being sick bringing you into the present. Into the mist. Law’s soothing voice was too full of concern, and you hated taking down your camouflage. Hated letting him see how weak you were.

“Y/N, can I check your–”

Law’s fingers were on you as soon as you nodded, slipping along the cold sweat that coated your skin as he checked your temperature and pulse.

“I’m fine,” you lied, your voice hoarse as if you had been sick.

His hands guided your trembling body as you sat up, your eyes caught on your own misty fingers.

Pathetic.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?”

A sharp laugh escaped you, flooding you with guilt. An apology died in your throat as you rubbed your hands over your arms, sliding through that layer of sweat.

“Can I take a shower?”

The “Surgeon of Death” waited outside the bathroom for you. You thought he was trying to help you feel safe by not letting anyone else in, until you remembered the concern, the pity on his face.

He’s making sure I don’t hurt myself.

You couldn’t meet his eyes as he tried to speak to you on the way to the galley, but a tiny smile broke through your heavy shame from Law’s poor attempt at small talk.

“Good morning, Y/N!” Penguin’s voice was too loud as he leaned close to grab breakfast at the counter. The stuffed penguin on his hat bobbed toward you while he spoke.

“Morning,” you greeted, with far less enthusiasm, only to be met with a small orchestra of cheerful voices calling to you, and their captain.

“Hope you didn’t mind the captain on your floor last night. He used to snore like a–”

“Penguin,” Law commanded, voice low as he gripped his crew mate’s wrist.

The man's friendly clap on your back had made your shoulders tense up, your jaw clenching as Doffy’s voice boomed through your mind.

‘Only I’m allowed to touch my little doll,’ Doffy rasped, pinching your thighs almost too hard as you sat in his lap. You tried not to stare at the blood spreading across the marble floor. ‘I don’t like to share.’

“Sure, sorry captain, sorry Y/N…” Penguin took a step back, dipping his head at Law’s frown.

“It’s okay,” you breathed, your lying smile forming so easily on your face before he led you to a table in the corner, away from his happy crew.

I’m like mist, sucking the joy and beauty out of a sunny place.

“Why don’t we skip the interview today,” Law suggested, tapping his pretty fingers on the table.

“But, don’t you nee–”

“I need you to be okay,” he interrupted, reaching those fingers to touch your wrist gently, barely, before pulling away. “Besides, I have something else in mind.”

Moving through the metal halls felt like a dream, like you’d get lost, and keep walking for years before you woke up. Until he spun the wheel to open a heavy door, leading you into the largest room you’d seen on this underwater ship.

“How nostalgic,” you teased, nodding your head toward the wall of weapons in what was clearly a training room.

“It’s been a while since you kicked my ass,” he said with a laugh, and you chewed your lip to fight your cheesy smile. He moved down the wall, pulling two daggers free before facing you. “Catch.”

“Wait,” you cried out, ready to move or mist away, but your body acted on its own. You caught the blade he’d thrown your way, gripping it as you smiled to yourself.

“I see you haven’t lost your reflexes,” he hummed, facing off with you.

“What if I had,” you scolded, your free hand on your hip.

“I knew it couldn’t hurt you. But your enemies might not,” he mused. “Why didn’t you strike? I gave you an opening.”

“What are you–�� you laughed, shaking your head at him. “I’m not a fighter anymore. Besides, I don’t want to be mauled by a bear when your crew finds out I tried to attack you.”

His scowl was so sharp, you almost missed his movement. The second blade flew toward you, spinning clear with the ringing of metal as you blocked it with the first dagger.

“What the fuck, Law?”

He ignored you as he pulled a sword from the wall, striding your way with death in his eyes. Your body slid into a stance it hadn’t felt in years, and you gritted your teeth. Barely escaping Law’s attack, you used the dagger to deflect his blade as you rolled away.

“Why are–”

His sword came down over your head, and you misted out of reach, your breath heavy as anger and fear started to build.

“Law! Why–”

“Why do you keep saying you’re weak?”

You froze, unable to move as he plunged his sword through your chest, meeting nothing but mist.

“What happened to the girl that could kick my ass? Until I’d get her back, of course,” he grinned, offering his hand to help you up. Still frozen, you watched him sigh, dropping the sword as he sat down beside you.

“Why do you keep saying that you’re weak,” he repeated softly, his gaze stripping you to the bone.

“Because I am weak.”

The words held nothing but truth, a truth you’d long since accepted.

“Don’t be stupid,” he reprimanded, the insult bringing your eyes to his with a bit of shock and annoyance.

“Is that my doctor’s orders,” you growled, anger showing through your mask for the first time in ages. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you dug your nails into your shins, the comfort of the mild pain helping you stay grounded.

“Yes,” he deadpanned, your lips parting as you glared. He didn’t drop that judgemental look on his face, and it was too fucking much.

You hid the need to squirm by standing, picking up the weapons to hang back on the wall. The weight of a useless life pushed your shoulders down, until a tattooed hand touched yours, taking one of the daggers from you while you stared at the floor.

“When we were kids, you were just as strong of a fighter as I was. I don’t understand how that could change, Y/N,” he recalled, voice soft as he touched your chin. His eyes searched yours, as if you were a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

“I know you’re fierce. Pretty sure I’ve still got a few scars from you,” he laughed, that gentle sound making your eyes drift closed, a bittersweet smile on your lips.

“I’m not fierce,” you confessed, shivering as your skin burned where his fingers still held your chin. “I couldn’t keep up. My powers are so... I kept failing, just like they said I would.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

You almost gaped at him again, but his hand on your chin kept your jaw from dropping. Pulling away, you crossed your arms, that irritation growing.

“Your bedside manner is shit, you know that?”

“We’re not in bed right now,” he countered, his confident voice cut short by his own awkward cough as he continued. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. I’m not a fighter anymore, Law. I can help you with my memories, you don’t need to do all of this.” He ignored your movements as you gestured to the wall of weapons, falling back into that frown he’s so good at.

“Get over it.”

“Excuse me?”

He thrust the handle of the dagger into your palm, leaning close.

“Everyone has to pull their weight on this ship. You’re gonna shadow the crew until we find a job that suits you. You’re gonna sit with me for interviews. And you’re gonna train, just like everyone else,” he commanded, your breath catching as you felt the authority pouring off of him. His fingers were still wrapped around yours, pressing the handle of the blade into your skin.

“Do you under–”

Law grunted with more surprise than pain as your other fist connected with his face. He took a step back, scalding eyes raking over you while he rubbed his jaw, but you cut him off before he could speak.

“Gotcha, with a capital ‘G,” you declared, moving your arms with the dagger to create a poor image of the letter ‘G.’

Everything else faded from your mind as Law started to laugh, holding himself up with his hands on his knees. You couldn’t help but join him, some good childhood memories finally filling the air between you.

“Does he still do that,” he asked, still breathless as he fought the laughter.

“Lau G won’t stop doing that until he’s dead and gone.”

He leaned against the wall of weapons, shaking his head as he pulled up ancient memories.

“That old man trained both of us, Y/N. You were neck and neck with me, even though I’d never admit it back then.”

Your face grew hot, hopefully masked by the wheezing laughter you were still recovering from. But shame quickly followed the pride from his praise, so you turned away to stretch, avoiding his discerning eyes.

“Let’s start with hand to hand,” he ordered softly. You let him take the blade from you, meeting him on the mats in the center of the large, echoey room. Bouncing on your heels, you fought to keep yourself in the present.

‘Can’t take care of a single mission. I’ve never had such a failure in my family before. What should I do with you?’

‘So misty, so flimsy! You’ll never be as strong as us. I bet the young master will throw you out soon.’

‘Why don’t you just focus on being pretty, dear. I heard the young master say that’s all you’re good for.’

“I won’t go easy on you," Law's threat broke through your foggy mind. He smirked, taunting you with a tilt to his head. “Kick my ass.”

Falling into a stance without a thought, you tried to be here, to be nothing but this. You couldn’t make the first move, getting annoyed as Law feinted, tapping you here or there until you finally fought back.

There he was. That silly, angry boy with that wicked smirk. The smirk that you needed to kick off that pretty face. Two years of rivalry, two years of tiny, vicious preteens sparring daily, came flooding back as the sounds filled the training room. The sounds of fists and shins connecting with bodies, breaths and grunts, snarky remarks and laughter.

It felt like no time had passed.

Until you noticed that thought, and shame hit you just before Law tackled you, taking your breath as he rode your body to the ground.

Coming back to yourself too late, he had you pinned, unable to work your arms or legs to get out of his grasp.

“I know you can do better than that,” he teased, his black hair caught in the sweat on his forehead as he stared down at you.

“Go fuck yourself,” you breathed, still winded with his weight on your body.

“With a capital ‘G,” he smirked, too much satisfaction on his face. He laughed as you squirmed harder, trying to free a hand to punch him with.

Now you were satisfied, hearing him grunt as he struggled to keep you in place. You freed one arm, but before you could make contact, Law changed position. He caught your wrist, his breathing ragged as his face hovered even closer to yours.

The air was different, shivers running through you as your bodies relaxed into each other. The struggle halted as you felt his breath on your lips.

His eyes were wide as he took you in, his brows creasing just a bit. Your chest warmed at the memory of a childhood crush, and a quick peck of a kiss before he disappeared. That sweet memory fell apart when he pulled himself off of you, a slight frown on his lips before he turned away.

Oh.

“That’s, uh,” he started, walking away as he avoided your gaze, “that’s enough for today. Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll get your schedule for tomorrow. Good work, today.”

You held up a polite smile as sharp blades of ice seemed to carve into your empty chest. Wanting Law to kiss you seemed ridiculous. Selfish. You hadn’t realized that your stupid, absent heart was so delusional. And now you knew exactly why you shouldn’t think about him that way.

He’s disgusted by me. I’ll always be tainted. Ruined. I’m lucky he hasn’t put me out of my misery yet. Why would Law want to touch trash like me?

The thoughts crashed into you, and the moment wouldn’t stop replaying. The press of him, his amber eyes, the sweat and breath mixing between you.

And that frown as he pulled away.

It played on a loop as you walked through the submarine, repeating through another shower, a nearly silent lunch in the galley, and the tour. Law guided you with a hand drawn map, labeled with the various stations, and the crew members you’d be shadowing. A detailed weekly schedule filled the back of the paper, and you let out a quiet laugh at his attention to detail.

“Do you have any questions?”

“No, teacher,” you teased, breathing deep when he finally looked at you again.

“It’s captain,” he corrected as he pointed to the schedule. “You’ll be with Ikkaku tomorrow morning, then if you’re up for it, I'd like to do another interview.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

Just a twitch of his lips this time, but it was a relief. Until he left you in the galley with the crew, excusing himself to complete some “captain’s duties.”

He doesn’t even want to eat with me now. I probably make him sick.

“Hi, Y/N, you can sit with me! You know, if you want to…” Bepo trailed off, flipping from excited to glum in seconds.

“Thank you, Bepo,” you agreed, donning your cheerful voice as you sat across from him.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier,” Penguin said as he sat beside you, still too close for comfort after years of Doffy’s rules. “The captain’s the only one that taught us any manners, but I guess I still need some practice.”

“It’s al–”

“Give her some space, you’re being a creep,” Shachi cut in, sitting across from Penguin as he pointed a fork his way.

“I’m not a creep, you jerk–”

“The captain said to behave ourselves,” Bepo scolded, and you found a real smile on your lips as you saw the concern on his cute, furry face.

“Hey, you’re with me tomorrow, right?”

Ikkaku waved over the bear's shoulder, her dark brown curls making her instantly recognizable. You confirmed with a nod while the three boys at the table kept bickering.

“Let’s go talk about it.”

Arguments and insults floated through the air, and you were grateful for the rescue as you joined the only other non-man on the ship. She smirked as she nodded her head toward her crew mates.

“Don’t mind the dumbasses, they’re harmless.”

“Thanks,” you laughed, your appetite returning as you watched Ikkaku take a large bite, rolling her eyes at Bepo’s table.

Comfortable quiet sat with you, and you finally felt a moment of ease in your new world. Even with Law, you felt this energy of holding yourself up, of presenting yourself how you wanted him to see you. But this relaxed woman seemed friendly as she dug into her meal, without the pressure of a smile. She didn’t watch you, or force you into small talk, even when you followed her out of the galley to point out where you’d be working in the morning.

“I’m ‘Weps,’ so I’ll be showing you how to spot and kill enemies. Hopefully we’ll always be bored,” she huffed, pointing vaguely toward her station before guiding you back to the barracks.

“That’s you, right,” she asked, tapping on your door. “I’ll yell when it’s time to go.”

“Thank you,” you squeaked, staring for a moment as she turned away.

That small metal room seemed to amplify your worst thoughts, your loneliness echoing through the air like some torturous bell. You wished you had some sort of drug to knock yourself out. Instead, you curled on your side, trying not to think about how Law had cared enough to sleep on your floor last night, but could barely look at you after your near touch earlier.

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Don’t get all misty-eyed. That man should have known better than to touch my pretty doll,” Doffy declared, crouching down to press his palm into the sticky red puddle.

The blood of an unlucky man. A friendly man that tried to help you stay balanced while you walked down a flight of stairs in too-high heels.

“No one else will ever touch you,” Doffy breathed, pressing his bloody palm to your chest. He licked his lips as he dragged his fingers higher, painting your skin.

Doffy loves me. He’ll be King. Kings have to do this. They have to enforce their–

Your deep breaths and calming thoughts halted as his sticky hand gripped your face, digging into your cheeks to tilt your face up to his.

No more misty eyes.

You felt pride for your lack of tears, and for the smile he gave before he smoothed the hair from your face.

“You’re so pretty when you listen to me,” he praised, his grin deepening when he heard your pleased hum. “You know I’ll have to kill you too, right? You're my doll now. Letting someone touch you with their grubby fingers, and defile my toy sounds like another failure, huh, misty eyes?”

A soft noise escaped your lips as you struggled to be strong for him.

“Well,” he seethed, the veins in his forehead bulging as he shook your face in his bloody grip, “does my pretty doll have anything to say?”

“I-I’m yours, Doffy,” you promised, keeping your eyes dry as your body went loose, leaning into his hold.

“My body belongs to you, young mast– Doffy. I’d rather die than let someone defile your property.”

A bruising kiss took your breath, and you whined for him as he laid you on the marble floor. That spill of red beside you had finally stopped flowing.

“Don’t forget that, Y/N. I’m the only one that gets to defile my pretty doll. My disgusting, little toy. No one would want to touch you anyway. Not if they knew what you let me do to you.”

Doffy laughed as he proved it to you.

And you kept your eyes dry.

~🦩🦩🦩~

Last night, your mind had chosen memories over dreams. The lights and sounds of the sonar were lovely, yet too soothing, and Ikkaku caught you shaking yourself as you held in a yawn.

“Come on,” she ordered as she pushed you out of the weapons room, leading you through the halls. You pressed your fingers into your brow, trying to alleviate some of the pressure, not realizing where she was taking you until she called through a familiar door.

“Captain, I need to report a crew member who’s unfit for duty.”

“Wait, what,” you cried out, cutting off your own yawn as she rolled her eyes at you.

Law opened the door, his eyes narrowing on you before he looked at her.

“What’s your report?”

“Y/N was doing well with sonar, but she's clearly sleep deprived. There's no yawning at my weapons station, Captain.”

Ikkaku softened her report by flashing you a tiny smile, but your shoulders slumped in embarrassment.

“Thank you for the report,” Law cleared his throat, avoiding your eyes as he focused on her. “We’ll try again tomorrow. You’re dismissed, Ikkaku.”

She patted your back as she passed, her gesture of comfort lost as your body tensed at the touch.

With a shaky breath, you turned to him, staring at his tattooed arms that flexed as they crossed below his chest.

I didn’t mind when he touched me.

That thought was bittersweet, the bitter turning to bile when you remembered him pulling away.

“Come in,” he gestured into the office, and you stepped back into your memories. A shrine to Doffy, even if it was built of hate.

“How much sleep did you get last night,” he spoke like a doctor, scrutinizing every movement as you sat down across his desk.

“How would I know? There’s no clock in there.”

Somehow, his frown deepened, and you let out a heavy sigh.

“Did you sleep at all?”

The touch of warmth in his voice filled the cold room, but you didn’t want it. You couldn’t truly have it. So you let the truth ring through your mind as you lied again.

All I am is the broken toy of the man he despises.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be okay.”

Your eyes slid away, seeing nothing as you pretended to be fine. Yet, you blinked slowly when he stood, his chair scraping along the floor before he came to kneel beside you.

Time seemed fuzzy, but after a while you heard his voice, low and steady.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Too tired and stuck for anything except for the faint quivering of your bottom lip, you stayed silent.

“Is it…” he cleared his throat, flexing his hands before he went on. “Is it alright if I hug you?”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he tried to cover his worry in a soothing tone as tears and small choked sounds left your throat. “We don’t need to–”

“Please.”

That tiny, pathetic word left your lips, and you felt sick for asking for anything. Sick for forcing him to take care of you.

But you didn’t fight as he pulled the chair out, as he knelt to the side of your knees, as he touched long fingers to your cheek.

“Is it alright if I hug you,” he asked again in a whisper. You were too weak to protect him from you, nodding slowly until you felt more of his touch.

He pulled you gently forward, your arms limp as he wrapped his around your waist, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

“You’re okay,” he soothed, sliding a palm between your shoulder blades. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Denials and arguments struggled to leave your lips, anger and fear fighting for control.

But you were so tired.

And Law felt so warm, so solid, his smell familiar, yet new. He squeezed you tighter as your breath sped up, holding you still, until you held him too.

He didn’t let go as you dripped hot tears onto his neck. He didn’t let go when you clung to him, digging your fingers into his arms and shoulders. He didn’t let go as your cries flipped from silent to pleading, as you begged for his forgiveness, or choked over the fears and shame you carried.

Through every round of emotions, you would return to guilt and disgust.

“I’m sorry, Law, I’m sick. You shouldn't be... I’m sorry you have to touch me.”

“Why are you saying that,” he nearly growled, holding your head against him to keep you from leaving his grasp.

You had no idea how long you’d made him care for you, how many tears you’d let stain his shirt. But however long it had been, you were finally able to speak some of it clearly.

“You hate him,” you said, your feeble voice breaking between your haggard breaths, “and I’m his… I’m broken. I’m disgust–”

“Shut up.”

A surprised yelp stopped your words, the force of his grip catching your breath.

Law’s fingers dug into your skin as he pressed you against him, almost to the point of pain, and your mind froze as you waited for him.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he declared, forcing the words through his teeth. “I don’t give a shit about what he did to you. I don’t care what he made you do. It wasn’t your fault, you hear me?”

There was anger in his words, but you knew it wasn’t for you. Still, you were stunned, feeling his heavy breaths beating against your chest.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he buried his face into your neck before pulling away. It was almost painful losing his warmth against you, but he took your hands in his. He seemed to be having more trouble meeting eyes than you were, and you started sinking into the chair while he cleared his throat a few times.

“When I found out that you’d… That he’d… I should have saved you, Y/N. But I decided not to care about you so I could focus on my mission. I let him–”

“Stop,” you cried out, shaking your head against the guilt in his voice. “I wouldn’t have come with you before. I don’t even know when things started to change. But I would have betrayed you. I wanted to be… I’m glad you didn’t find me sooner, Law. I just wish–”

You cut yourself off, melting into his golden eyes. A stolen moment of peace amidst the guilt and pain.

“What do you wish,” he asked, rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands.

“... I don't think broken people get wishes.”

He gave a jaded laugh before standing, leaning against the desk while he rubbed his knees.

“Will it help you sleep if I stay on your floor tonight?”

You smirked at his soft words, looking from his knees up to his face before responding.

“I don’t know, old man. I don’t think it’ll be good for your joints.” The look on his face was perfect, and a real laugh left your raw throat, shaking your tired body.

“We’re the same age,” he countered, eyes wide with that manic grin, “and disrespecting your captain is a punishable offense.”

“I see how it is,” you teased, lightly poking his side. “Still can’t come up with a good comeback, so you threaten me with violence? Looks like you haven’t changed a bit, you– Law!”

He’d grabbed your wrist before going to his knees again, those pretty fingers searching your ribs for the perfect spot. You writhed and laughed, and failed to fight him off as he tickled you, the way he used to when he couldn’t outsmart you.

“Law, you–”

“Fuck, sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

Law pressed himself against the desk, still on his knees with his hands held up, his eyes wide and worried as he looked at you.

You cracked up, true, heavy laughter, until his lips curled into that evil little smirk. But you beat him to it, sliding to the ground to get him back, tickling and getting a good squirm out of him before you both attacked.

He growled as he laughed, grappling you to the side of the chair until he had you pinned to the ground again. Neither of you could tickle the other as you fought for control or freedom. His cheeks were flushed as he laughed in your face, giving you a snarky, “nuh uh,” when you failed to break loose.

His tongue pressed between his teeth as he gloated, that cocky grin fading as you melted into each other again.

“I–I’m sorry,” he sighed, shifting his weight to leave.

“Don’t be sorry,” you demanded, breathless, and aching for him to stay. “I want…”

You closed your eyes, guilt and shame sliding into your lungs again.

His weight shifted, settling back where he was before. You bit your lip when you saw him staring at your mouth, and heat filled your body as you became hyper aware of every detail of his gorgeous face.

“You want,” he rasped as he met your eyes, concern still pouring from his own.

Your words were choked by all those shitty feelings and doubts.

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

His gentle voice eased the tension in your body, and you were grateful that he hadn’t moved. That he still touched you.

He was still touching you even though you were broken.

“I want you to kiss me.”

~🖤🖤🖤~

You’d ordered the stupid boy to kiss you, your arms crossed as you tried to act like you didn’t care. He’d lost the bet, and had to do whatever you asked.

“Ew, gross! I’m not doing that.”

Law stuck his tongue out, pretending to be sick.

“You lost the bet,” you scolded, punching his shoulder. “Want me to tell everyone you’re an oathbreaker?”

“Why do you wanna kiss me anyway? I’m sick,” he questioned, a hint of hurt in his voice as he gestured to the pale spots on his face.

“I don’t care if you’re sick. I like you how you are.” The confession slipped out, and heat rushed to your face as you clamped your hands over your mouth.

“You like me,” he taunted, smirking as he poked your burning cheek. “Ha, you’re such a girl.”

“Am not,” you yelled, your hands going misty with embarrassment.

“So, all I gotta do is kiss you, and we’ll be square?”

You nodded quickly, not sure if you should trust him.

“Fine,” he complained, leaning in.

You didn’t know what the big deal was about kissing. His lips were cold and scratchy when he pressed them against yours for a few seconds, then he scowled at you as he pulled away.

“That was dumb,” he deadpanned, poking your side.

“You’re dumb!”

He stuck his tongue out at you, and you chased Law down until he swore to never tell a soul.

~🖤🖤🖤~

“Ew, gross,” Law grinned, your mouth falling open in shock.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he teased, moving his smug face closer to yours. “Kissing you sounds gross.”

“You fucking ass,” you seethed, struggling to get out of his grapple so you could punch him. “I can’t believe–”

He let out a needy sound as he crashed his lips onto yours, and you moaned against him. Your back arched when he released his hold on your arms to cradle your face.

A sob of relief escaped you, and you felt like you’d lost your mind, your hands clawing at his back to pull him closer.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against yours. “I should–”

“No more ‘sorry's,” you ordered, “I just want you to kiss me.”

Law chuckled, his voice coming back in a wicked rasp.

“Ew, gross.”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Sorry about the gruesome, but I hope you enjoyed the wholesome Law with his childhood sweetheart. I adore this man 🥰

Note for the timeline: The childhood flashback occurred shortly before Cora took Law away, so both the reader and Law had known each other over 2 years, and were both between 12-13 yrs old. At the present time in the story, both the reader and Law are around 25 years old.

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @nothing-but-brass

Part 4

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

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noxturnalpascal · 23 days

Text

Devotion 🖤 II. Predator or Prey? (Ch 6)

CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader

Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?

Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.

*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*

⚠️PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE SERIES WARNINGS, ESPECIALLY: possessiveness, manipulation, Joel gets mean, Joel gets verbally and physically abusive.⚠️

LAYOUT OF JOEL'S HOUSE

II. Predator or Prey?

CH 6 (5.8k) It’s two weeks into the New Year and you’ve been spending every day plotting and planning how to keep away from Joel. It’s not easy, especially since you don’t even have a bedroom door to keep his wandering eyes from staring at you while you get ready in the mornings, as he stands in the hallway in overbearing silence. Your task was made even tougher when Tess said he wouldn’t allow you to leave the house anymore for your daily chores.

You’re stuck inside this dusty old prison all day, awaiting his return. The day might go as usual and he’ll threaten to force feed you at meal time. Maybe it will be another glorious day of him digging bruises into your arms or throwing you against walls. What if he really changed things up and grunted all sorts of fucked up things in your ear while you brushed your teeth? Oh wait, he already does that.

As snarky as you try to be about it – lamenting your life as you drape yourself over the couch, passing the hours in silence and slowly going mad – the whole situation really stresses you out. You weigh your feelings of safety and security in this community with the vicious and unpredictable behavior you’ve been enduring in this house. Is it still worth it to stay here? Are you better off in The Valley or would you be better off out there, alone in the wilderness? You’re on edge all the time, never sure what’s going to set him off. You spend so much time thinking about him, every moment you’re awake really, just so you can try to avoid him as much as possible.

He used to be on your mind all the time, thinking about his body on yours, the warmth of his skin under your hands. You’d fantasize about a future with him and what that might be like, letting him protect you and take care of you. Now you think about if you’re always going to be this hurt by his duplicity, feel this raw about his deception. Deep down, in a place you don’t like to acknowledge, you still wonder if there’s any future for the two of you. You push that thought away to compose a plan for how to stay out of his way when he gets home for the day.

And yet, every night at dinner you sit right next to him, unable to escape, watching out of your peripheral vision as he stares you down with a hateful look in his eyes. There was a time when you thought that the scariest thing he could do was touch you without your permission. But now he touches you every day – with open palms and closed fists, clutching fingers and rough grips. You never even considered these kinds of touches as an option from the man who used to be so gentle and tender with you. That man is gone.

This day, however, looks like it might turn out alright when Sasha and Tess return shortly before sunset from a scavenging trip they made to a family lodge situated on a rocky outcropping a few hours hike west of The Valley. They pile their haul on the dining room table, emptying out packs and bags they came back with stuffed full, and a stack of books catches your eye.

“Who are these for?”

“Anyone,” Sasha answers while sorting the clothes by size into neatly folded piles. “There were a bunch in a makeshift library up there but most of the collection was damaged by water and mildew. There were only a few we could salvage.”

You stand still, staring at the books, not wanting to pilfer something that Tess and Sasha worked hard to collect for the entire Valley. Tess sees you hesitating and pushes the stack towards you.

“Go ahead, look through ‘em and read any you want,” she shrugs. “When you’re done we can put ‘em back in the community library.”

You lift the first book up, going through the stack slowly, not recognizing any titles. The first two are young adult books, their covers adorned with pennants for their high school team and smiling teens talking on the phone. The third is the 1994 National Electric Code Handbook and the fourth is a non-fiction book on the Native American tribes that once inhabited New England. But the fifth one makes you stop in your tracks.

The fifth book is your favorite book.

You turn it over in your hands, its dust jacket long since removed. The faded red hardcover is soft with wear, but the simple tree in gold foil on the front is still gleaming. The Secret Garden. Your eyes begin to sting as you recall the places your imagination used to take you to when you read this story, wishing as a child that you had a secret garden of your own to find, hide away in, and restore to glory. You kind of wish you had one now.

“You read that one?” Sasha calls over her growing piles.

“Yeah,” you whisper, your voice breaking, “It’s my favorite book.” You look up and meet her face, tears in your eyes. But she’s not looking at you. She’s looking past you, face solemn. Your smile disappears as you slowly turn around, already knowing what you’re going to see. You don’t look at his face. You don’t meet his eyes. You take trembling breaths as your eyes fall on the center of his chest, less than a foot distance between you. Joel.

Favorite book you’d said. Just like that. Offered it up like the most casual thing in the world. But would you tell him when he asked? Of course not. He gave you so much. He gave you food and shelter. He told you about himself – shit, he even told you about Sarah. But you wouldn’t tell him about a stupid fucking book, wouldn’t give him your fucking name, even after all this time. Wouldn’t give him what he needed.

You. He needed you.

You withholding little bitch.

He grabs the book out of your hands, turning it to read the title on the spine.

“Look at me,” he demands.

You don’t.

He doesn’t ask again. He lifts the book to your eye line, grabbing a chunk of pages in his right hand and yanking them out of the spine. He holds his hand up and releases the pages, letting them flutter to the ground, single sheets and some clusters still bound together covering your socked feet. The tears collecting at your waterline spill over and you let out a quiet whimper. He shoves the carcass of the book back into your hands and walks out of the room, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Tess follows him, pushing open the closing door of his office behind him.

“Why’d you do that to her?” she asks, stepping into the darkening room, the short winter day having just seen the sun set.

“Don’t give her any more books,” he snaps, ignoring her question.

“You made her cry–”

“Oh boo-fuckin’-hoo, she’s always cryin’.” Her eyes are adjusting to the dark and she sees him moving across the room.

“Joel–”

“No more books,” he shouts, turning to stomp back to where she stands. “She has a fuckin’ book and it’s out there sittin’ on the mantle,” he points at the wall, momentarily acknowledging the book he pretends he hasn’t seen remain untouched since Christmas, everytime he walks through the goddamn room.

Tess holds her hands up in defeat and backs out of the room, leaving him alone to pace and grumble to himself. She decides to make a plan that night, determined to find a way to snap Joel out of it and keep you safe in the meantime.

–

Alone again, Joel feels himself thickening in his pants and he wants to scream, wants to put his fist through the wall. He wants to shake you and slap you and squeeze you and make you look at him like you did before. You won’t look at him at all. Why won’t you fucking look at him?

There’s no moon in the night sky so even with multiple windows in this room it remains quite dark. He rounds his desk, bumping his hip into the corner as he throws himself into his chair. He pulls open a bottom desk drawer and withdraws an item he’s kept hidden under a pile of maps: a pair of your underwear. He remembers the night he took them, the week before everything went to shit. Before you looked at him like everyone else. Before you broke yourself open for him. Before his true self was revealed to you.

Before you hated him.

He shucks his jeans open and reaches into his pants, his dick already hard. He spits into his hand and begins stroking up and down, bringing your underwear to his face and taking deep inhales, setting a fast pace. As he takes whiffs, he opens his mouth, letting the heady scent of you permeate all his senses, rolling his eyes back into his head. He thinks about that night he pulled these down your legs, how you looked on all fours bared open for him and the way you rolled your hips, moaning his name. He thinks about what you tasted like when you came on his face.

He hisses, squeezing hard at the base of his shaft, suddenly aware that he’s about to come much too quickly. He slams the underwear down on the desk, cursing that he lets you affect him like this. He’s barely touched himself these past weeks, getting too angry every time he thinks about you and how badly he wants you, how you won’t give him what he wants. He’s neglected the aching hardness he awakes with each morning and ignored the other women knocking on his bedroom door at night, knowing it isn’t you on the other side. You won’t give him what he needs.

He wraps his hand around his shaft and resumes stroking, slowly this time, staring at the underwear he’d stuck in his back pocket after you begged him to take them off and keened when his mouth touched you. His eyes have adjusted to the dim room and he thinks he can see a stain on the gusset, reaching forward to brush his thumb along the fabric. His calloused finger scrapes across the dried remnants of your arousal and he groans loudly, squeezing his cock firmly again, willing himself not to come yet.

He watches his hand continue slow movements on his length, rolling his fingers along the underside of his head, over the tip, gathering the precum there to swirl and spread on his downward strokes. Why the fuck does he let you do this to him? Why does he let you get in his fucking head? He can’t control himself, he’s losing his goddamn mind. He should go back out there and grab you by the hair, drag you in here, and remind you how lucky you are to be here.

He looks over at the couch he used to sit with you on. He should throw you over that couch, pull your pants down past your ass and fuck you from behind. He’d grab the books he’d read to you off the shelf and smack your ass with them, listen to you cry out and whimper, hear your growing wetness as his cock pounds your perfect, willing pussy. He’d make you grovel for his forgiveness, make you beg him to let you come. He’d make you thank him for your Christmas gift. He’d make you fucking look at him.

That’s what he’d do.

He’d grab your face and make you look him in his eyes while you came, feeling the spasming walls of your cunt around him. He’d keep fucking into you, listening to you wail through your orgasm, watching your eyes roll back and your face go slack. He’d make you watch his cock disappearing inside you, covered with your creamy arousal as he hits that perfect spot deep inside you. The place he earned. The place you refuse to give him. He grabs the underwear off the desk and wraps them around his length, increasing his pace again.

The only sounds in the room are his panting breaths and the thumps of his fist hitting his pelvis with force as he pumps himself over and over. His head is thrown back when he feels the familiar tension in his balls and he brings his chin to his chest to watch his release darken the fabric covering his cockhead. He pulls your underwear off him with one hand and continues to jerk himself with the other, pressing himself down, aiming it so the white ropes pumping out of him cover the stolen garment. His breath hitches in his throat with short, desperate gasps as he squeezes the last of his climax into the cloth.

He clenches his hand around the underwear, letting his spend press between his fingers and run down his fist, dripping onto his denim-covered knees. What a fucking waste. Your denial, your refusal, your goddamn obstinance. Look where it gets him – coming into his hand like a pitiful virgin, as if he can’t get a woman of his own to fuck him. How dare you treat him like this, withhold yourself from him, have him resorting to these degrading acts.

You seem to forget how good you have it in the safety of his dominion, protected under his watchful eye. Maybe you forgot how ugly the world is out there, how cruel people can be. How many people in this world would kill to be in your place? How many women here in The Valley wish they were you, fortunate enough to be the object of his desire? You’re so fucking ungrateful. You need a lesson in how to behave, how to be more appreciative of him. You need to learn some loyalty.

–

The following Thursday you’re facing the front door, bundling up your coat for the walk to the meeting and waiting for Joel to come out of his office to walk with you since you’re not allowed to leave the house without him. You hear the door open but don’t look back until you hear an unexpected noise in the form of a female voice. Kerri is walking with him through the living room. They were in his office together.

It’s fine, you don’t care. You’re not jealous. You have no claim over him. He’s not yours. You don’t want him. He does whatever he wants and you can’t control it. So let him have it his way, you don’t care.

You catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye but you don’t dare turn your head. You won’t give him the satisfaction. Behind you, you think you hear Kerri getting her coat and shoes on as well. Tess is wiping down the dinner table and sees the group of you gathered at the door.

“Kerri, where are you goin’, hon?”

“She’s coming to the meeting with me,” Joel answers for her. He said me, not us. Like you weren’t even there. You let a scowl take over your face. He’s being such an asshole. Tess doesn’t question him, probably for the best. You hear him huff out a laugh.

You look his way and see the smug grin on his face as he opens the front door and motions for you to go out of it. You don’t let it bother you. It’s fine that he’s bringing Kerri to this meeting even though Thursdays are supposed to be your meeting nights. It’s fine that they walk hand-in-hand behind you on the walk to and from the meeting. It’s also fine that he ordered her to sit in your usual seat next to him at the meeting and for you to sit on the other side of the room instead.

He doesn’t try to put his hands on you, he doesn’t chase you up the stairs. It’s fine. It’s what you wanted. You’re glad for it. So then why do you feel like your insides are on fire and you’re fighting the urge to spill them all over the ground? Back at the house Joel and Kerri head towards his office so you go to the kitchen to get some water and get away from them.

Moments later they’re coming into the kitchen and you hate the way your stomach rolls at the sight of them. Out of the corner of your eye you see her reach into the cupboard for a glass and you watch him push her against the counter, pressing himself into her ass. You just know he’s digging his erection into her. He used to do that to you. You used to like it.

A shiver goes through your body and you almost drop your glass, but as you recover you see in your peripheral vision that he’s watching you. Is he doing this to get a reaction from you? Is he waiting for you to cry again? You won’t give him the satisfaction.

“Goodnight, Kerri,” you say as you turn quickly and head out of the kitchen.

He grabs you before you can even make it through the dining room.

“Not gonna say goodnight to me?” He digs his fingers into the tender underside of your upper arm.

You hiss quietly in pain.

“You should know better than to be so rude,” he spits, bringing his face within inches of your own. “Seems like I need to teach you some fuckin’ manners.”

He lifts his other hand and swats your ass, laughing when you yelp in surprise.

“Well, I’m gonna go to bed,” Kerri says in the doorway.

She might as well be invisible for how Joel completely ignores her while he swats at you a few more times, mumbling how you’re such an ungrateful little cunt in your ear. You try to wriggle away and push him back but his grip only tightens. You’re reminded of a blood pressure cuff, the pressure and pain with which his hand cinches around you.

Has he been playing this charade with Kerri all night just to get a rise out of you? Was he always like this? You thought he was a good man; compassionate, hospitable, affectionate, genuine. Did he only show you enough of himself to lure you, to make you trust him? Was he lying the whole time about his true intentions? Were you really that gullible? God… he’s so fucking manipulative.

You don’t know what you’re thinking but the throbbing in your arm has your free hand scrabbling to get away and before you can measure the consequences of your actions, your open hand slaps across his face. Joel relaxess his grip on your arm immediately, the shock evident on his face, but before you can wrench yourself completely free of his hold, he throws you across the top of the table.

You come crashing down over the other edge, your limbs flailing and knocking over a chair on the way down. Before you can steady yourself enough to stand up on your own, he’s come around the table and put his hands on you again, lifting and shoving you against the front wall. Each hand grips your arm above the elbow, bracing your shoulder blades hard against the wall. His face comes to your neck and you feel him inhaling, feel his moist breath huffing against you, feel his stubble scraping you, feel his tongue dragging along you.

“Why the fuck are you making such a big deal of this bullshit, baby?” he coos. “The world ended. None of that old nonsense matters anymore.” He moves one hand up to your jaw, gripping your face hard.

“It matters to me,” you squeak through gritted teeth.

“All that matters to you is me, you understand?” He holds you so firmly that you can’t open your mouth to speak or even shake your head in response. “This is all that matters.” He begins to place gentle kisses along your pulse point, in opposition to the crushing embrace he’s got you in.

Eventually he loosens his grip on your jaw and, without hesitation, you take your free arm and place it over his sternum, shoving him backwards as hard as you can. Shock is quickly replaced by anger on his face. You hold your hands out in front of you, distracting him enough to stop his advancing aggression. You gather courage from somewhere deep inside you, lashing out for his callous disregard of you all night followed by this gaslighting manipulation.

“I’m so tired of you spouting your bullshit dogma just to try and get me to fuck you,” you seethe.

He raises his hand like he’s going to slap you but when you hold your head up, somehow managing not to flinch, he doesn’t follow through. Instead he lowers his hand to shove a single finger in your face.

“You think I want to fuck you?,” he bellows, “I don’t want to fuck you. I don’t want to want you. I don’t want to think about you every fucking second of every fucking day.” He reaches forward and grabs the flesh at your hips. You side-step out of his clutch and take a few steps towards the stairs before he grabs you by the wrist and holds it tight. “Do you see how fucking weak you make me?”

You walk backwards, trying to put distance between you but his wrap around your wrist is firm.

“You’re hurting me, Joel,” you mutter. He doesn’t let go.

“Look at me,” he orders. “Fucking look at me, goddamnit.”

You don’t.

Something inside him snaps. He yanks you closer with the hand around your wrist and pulls your body against his so that his chest is to your back, snaking his arms around you and cinching them tight. He scrapes his stubble hard along your neck and buries his nose in your hair, taking several deep inhales and groaning in between breaths.

His lower arm bands across your hips, digging into your soft flesh there while his other arm loosens and moves its way up your front. He grabs one of your breasts tight in his hand and presses his erection against your backside. You’re constricted tight, arms trapped as well, and unable to move away from him. You manage a breathy exhale of his name, meant to serve as a plea, but it can barely be heard.

“You can’t get away from me,” he growls in your ear. “You can never get away from me.”

He goes back to holding you with both arms, wrapped so tight that he knows it’s probably hurting you. You’re clearly struggling to breathe and even your feeble wriggling feels futile. Then he looks down and notices your struggling movements have shifted your sweater to expose the top of your shoulder. He recalls the mark he once sucked into your skin there, and the way it stayed on you for weeks. You need another reminder of who you belong to.

He moves his mouth to that same spot, baring his teeth, and bites into your flesh. Hard.

He barely hears your screaming over the pounding of his pulse in his ears, his own ragged and panting breaths, his drawn out, animalistic moan. Suddenly there’s tugging on his arms and he looks up to see Tess’ wide eyes staring at him, mouth moving. She must be saying something but he can’t make it out. Someone is yanking at his shirtsleeve on his other side and when he turns his head, teeth bared in a snarl, he sees Kerri recoil in horror.

Tess punches at his arms, claws at his neck, and tugs on his hair, finally managing to get him to loosen his arms enough to free you. She yanks you away from him and as she pulls you up the stairs you see him watching you from the bottom, eyes black, hair a mess, your blood dripping down the corners of his mouth. Tess drags you down the hall into her room, locking the door behind her. She puts a chair under the doorknob and tends to your wound with a first aid kit stashed under her bed.

She lets you sleep in her room that night. Joel doesn’t come for you.

–

The next evening you’re standing in the shadows behind the old ice skating rink, which is used as makeshift stables during The Valley’s Friday evening events. It’s off the main road, set back in the woods a bit, but you have a pretty good view of the town square from here. You can see people coming and going, see Joel shaking hands with them all, nodding while they talk to him but looking over their heads, probably searching for you.

“You’re gonna catch a cold.” You nearly jump out of your skin at Tess’ words. You didn’t even hear her coming. “I told you to wait inside.”

“It smells like horseshit in there. Besides, I’ve got this,” you say pointing to the knit scarf around your neck.

She just nods, knowing you have a scarf because she’s the one who put it on you. She helped you get cleaned and dressed for tonight since you spent all day in her room hiding from Joel. She looks you over once you’re all dressed and then you both look at the bandage she has taped at your shoulder, peeking out from under your shirt collar. She grabs the scarf out of her drawer and circled it around you several times, tucking the ends into your coat.

“Do you know Beth?” Tess asks abruptly.

“Beth?”

“Yeah, Beth,” she continues. “Short brown hair, she lives with Hank Mansfield’s family, down at the dairy farm.”

“Oh, Beth. Yeah, she comes with Hank to the Thursday night meetings,” you nod.

“Exactly. She used to be a seamstress,” Tess adds. “Did you know that?”

“No, I don’t think we’ve talked much.” You know you haven’t talked much because you spent most of the Thursday meetings staring at Joel’s lips and waiting for them to be planted on yours.

“She makes all her own clothes. She’s been helping the Mansfield’s too. I think she could help here in town if she lived closer.”

“Yeah I bet,” you reply.

“I was thinkin’, maybe you and her could trade rooms,” Tess answers your unspoken question.

“Trade rooms?”

“Yeah… she could have your room and you could go help out at the farm.”

“The fa–” you begin to question when her meaning hits you like a fist to the gut. You turn to look at her, a pinching pain behind your eyes, panic obvious on your face. “You want me to leave?”

“No, of course I don’t want that,” Tess immediately replies in a soothing voice. “I just think Beth could really help out here in town, but she’d need a room. And I thought maybe you might be willing to give yours up.”

“Give it up? I don’t understand.”

“I mean, you don’t have to live in that house if you don’t want to,” she nods towards the big house you share on the other side of the square. “It’s your choice. You can live anywhere you want.”

That doesn’t seem true. You don’t live at Joel’s house because you chose it. You live there because he invited you. He asked you. He chose you. You didn’t feel like you could say no and you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t let you choose somewhere else, especially not now.

“I don’t think he’d–,”

“No, it’s not his choice,” she interrupts you and repeats, “It’s your choice.”

“It is?”

“Of course,” she says without hesitation. “You could give Beth your room so she’d be able to help us here in town and you’d get a room at the Mansfield’s. You’d be able to help milk the cows. I hear a couple of them are pregnant, so there’d be babies this spring – get yourself a little change of scenery….”

Tess doesn’t want to seem like she’s overselling it but she really hopes the promise of baby animals tips this in her favor. She hopes that she’s getting the message across without having to say the actual words. I need to take you away from him, PJ. He’s going to keep hurting you, PJ. I’m trying to save you, PJ. She wants you to think that this was your idea, but mostly she needs you to agree to this. Right now.

“It’s far away though, isn’t it?” you say, staring in the direction of the town square now, where Joel is no doubt shirking his duties and obsessively searching for you.

“It’s far enough,” she replies, letting the implication remain unspoken.

“I– I think he’d be mad,” you whisper.

“It’s not up to him. It’s up to you,” she nods, a soft smile on her face when you meet her eyes again. Please, she pleads silently. “What do you want, PJ? Do you want to help me out? Give Beth your room?”

A long moment of silence passes, breaking eye contact and looking down at your feet shuffling them several times before looking back at Tess, a hint of sadness in your eyes, a touch of defeat.

“I– I could do that, yeah.”

“Great! That’s great,” Tess exhales, unable to mask her relief. She quickly reels back her emotions and expresses simple and stoic gratitude, as if it’s a run-of-the-mill thing that’s just been agreed to – no big deal. “Thank you PJ, that’s really nice of you.”

–

Joel stands next to Sasha, her cold hand clutched in his warm one, looking around the square. He’s waiting for everyone else to meet them in front of the bakery so they can all walk home together. He sees Tess coming down the sidewalk, walking towards him with someone who isn’t you. You must be with Rosie and Kerri.

“Joel, you remember Beth, right?” Tess asks him when she comes to a halt at his side, “Lives with the Mansfield’s out at the dairy farm?”

“Of course,” he nods his head, barely looking in their direction. “Hank’s daughter. Hi, Beth.”

“She’s not Hank’s daughter,” Tess corrects. Joel finally looks at them, giving Tess most of his attention and Beth a quick glance. “Beth has just been livin’ at the farm since she came into town with Olivier and his wife, from the Montreal Safe Zone?”

“Oh, sure,” Joel says, as if this isn’t brand new information, “That’s what I meant.” And his attention is diverted once again, scanning the park across the street, looking at the departing crowds from the night of fun festivities.

“She’s a seamstress, did you know that?”

Joel doesn’t even bother responding this time. Why would he know that Beth was a fuckin’ seamstress? Why would he have ever talked about that with Beth? He doesn’t think he’s ever talked to Beth about anything at all. Why would he fuckin’ care? He vaguely hears Tess saying something about staying with us a while and he hums in acknowledgement. Why is Tess bothering him with all this stupid fuckin’ information? He’s obviously busy looking for you.

His head on a swivel he sees Rosie and Kerri approaching from the other side of town. Wait, where are you? You were supposed to be with…

With Tess. You were with Tess. He turns to look Tess square in the eyes now. She has his full attention.

“Where is she?” he fumes.

“Like I way saying, Beth is a seamstress and she needed a room–”

“Who?” Joel sputters, not comprehending the words coming out of her mouth.

“Beth,” Tess repeats, motioning to the woman standing silently beside her. Beth waves awkwardly.

Joel whips himself around and takes off towards the house, dragging Sasha alongside him, not even fully realizing her hand is still clutched tight in his. He bursts in the door and lets go of Sasha, taking the stairs two at a time and entering the small, darkened room at the top of the stairs with no door. The sheets and blanket are fresh and crisp, the bed is neatly made. Five hangars swing empty from the curtain rod at the window, a half moon shining behind some scattered clouds and casting dim light through the sheer curtains.

He touches the empty bedside table. It used to be covered with books, leaves, and rocks you found interesting in shape or color. Things you collected when you walked together. Things you collected when you walked alone, after you stopped looking at him. Things that proved you were still here. That you were still his. Now they’re gone. You’re gone. Tess took you away.

He comes down the stairs slowly, Sasha standing just inside the dining room rubbing her wrist, the other women coming in the door. Tess stands at the bottom of the stairs with that girl whos’ not you at her side – Beth.

“What the fuck did you do?” Joel seethes. He reaches the last step and looks across the living room, his eye catching on the spine of the book he gave on Christmas, sitting on the fireplace mantle. It’s still here. You’re not.

“Beth needed–” Tess is cut off by a palm striking across her face.

She can’t say she wasn’t expecting a bad reaction from him, but she would have braced herself better if she knew it was coming right then. The slap sends her tipping sideways and she thinks she might even fall down except that Joel grabs the front of her shirt with both hands, keeping her from landing on the ground. He barks for everyone to go to bed and Tess watches Beth’s horrified face as Sasha takes her hand and pulls her up the stairs.

Tess knows he’s not done. She knows he’s going to keep going, keep hitting her, keep blaming her. She’s going to look like she got kicked by a horse tomorrow but it was worth it. He’s not hitting you. She can take it. She’s taken it before, from men with quick tempers. Joel will get his venom out tonight and tomorrow he’ll be remorseful and apologetic. Soon enough he’ll detox from you and eventually he’ll emerge from the haze, able to see clearly again. He’ll get his head on straight and be able to deal with things rationally.

At least that’s what she hopes. Everything depends on her being right. If he keeps going down the path he’s on now, she thinks this whole place – and everyone in it – is doomed.

🖤

Thank you to my amazing editor, @papipascalispunk, for helping me with this series, and for both fully understanding and appreciating my direction with these two. 🫂You work so hard (for free) and I appreciate everything you do.

TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @speckledemerald @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin @heimtathurss @untamedheart81 @pixielou5 @feel1n-h1gh @elegantduckturtle @koshkaj-blog

#devotion series #cult leader joel miller #noxturnalpascal #ofc!reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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scoonsalicious · 1 month

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A Scoonsalicious Masterlist

All fics are 18+ Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here. I exclusively write for Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader at this point in time, for maladaptive self-indulgent purposes.

Individual fics will contain individual warnings.

Bucky Barnes

(Fluff 💖) (Smut ❤️‍🔥) (Angst 💔) (Horror 🖤) (Violence ❤️‍🩹)

(Series ‼️) (One-Shot ❗️) (AU 💞) (1k+ Notes 🏆)

⚜️ Unwanted: ❤️‍🔥💔‼️ 🏆When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn't be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust. 154.6k words (Updated 4/16/24) COMPLETED, POSTING IN PROGRESS

⚜️ Like A Fairy Tale: 💔💖❗️🏆 Dating Bucky Barnes had been like living a fairy tale, but as he distances himself from you and your relationship, you come to the realization that maybe fairy tales aren't meant to come true. 3.4k words (Posted 3/4/24) COMPLETED

⚜️ Your Choice: ❤️‍🔥💖💞❗️You're minding your own business at home one evening when local police Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes comes knocking on your door. Someone's reported a crime being committed on your property, and the sergeant can either bring you down to the station, or get you off with a warning... it's your choice. 4.3k words (Posted 3/5/24) COMPLETED

🔜 With Friends Like These...: ❤️‍🔥💔‼️ Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You. WRITING

Hunted: ❤️‍🔥🖤❤️‍🩹‼️ A plane crash leaves you stranded in the Canadian wilderness with the one person who can't seem to stand you: Your mission partner, Bucky Barnes. You'll have to work together and put your differences aside in order to survive and get rescued. Only, the two of you aren't alone; someone, or something, is watching you from the woods. OUTLINING

Boys of Summer: ❤️‍🔥💔💞‼️ Every summer, the wealthy Barnes family escapes the heat of the city to their beach house on the New England coast, and every year for as long as you can remember, your father has been the caretaker of their property. Now your father's gone and you haven't seen Bucky Barnes since you two spent a summer night together when you were eighteen. Four years later, Bucky's returned with a slew of college friends in tow for the ultimate beach summer to celebrate his college graduation, and his recent engagement. PLANNING

Unbroken: An Unwanted Sequel: ❤️‍🔥💔💖‼️ It's a secret, but doesn't that title sound ridiculous?! BRAINSTORMING

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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mosaickiwi · 1 month

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14DWY As a Drama AU

Hey remember when I said I’d post this in February oopsies!! (don’t ask me about demon!ren i will cry)

Open at your own risk this thing is LONG. Tried to give everyone at least a little something! upon putting this in my drafts i realized olivia exists i'll add her at some point uhhh. Also you can tell how much I love Elanor... hehe

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

The cult classic romantic thriller, 14 Days With You, is now a drama! Coming to all your favorite streaming platforms this summer. A whirlwind romance gone right and wrong that you DON’T want to miss.

Cast List

[REDACTED]

🖤 Quiet kid that used the after school theater program to delay returning home. Never wanted to perform, but loved doing costumes, make up, and correcting others (in his mind) on how to portray their roles.

🖤 Spent a little extra time perfecting the costumes of a certain someone who didn't even know they existed. He always traded house chores with his sister so she'd sit in the audience to solely film Tree #2's performance.

🖤 Was an apprentice special effects makeup artist after graduation at first, particularly for horror films, but it didn't exactly pay the bills when they left home.

🖤 Easily rose to the top in their acting career due to his dedication for crafting characters to perfection.

🖤 Dolly Parton/Lady Gaga-esque in their separation of work and life—completely unrecognizable in their regular civilian attire. Paparazzi have never gotten a picture of them in all their years trying.

🖤 Has zero issues getting into character, but does "method acting" on occasion to make sure people leave them alone on set. And also to fuck with directors and producers they don't like. Notoriously difficult to work with because of it + their overall attitude towards others, still gets hired somehow.

🖤 Got offered the role as the main love interest in 14DWY without an audition, thanks to a previous manipulative pink haired character he played in a film that ended up never being released. (2017 Ren because it's funny)

Angel (you!)

💜 Participated in the same after school theater program as [REDACTED] and Leon for a few semesters before you got bored of it. Curiosity for acting resurfaced later in life.

💜 Newbie actor at the recently formed talent agency of your friend. Only starred as non-speaking roles or background characters in small productions until the drama. You moved back to Corland Bay after uni for the better industry prospects.

💜 You initially auditioned for a very small role in the drama as an employee in a seaside shop at first, but somehow you wound up as the lead? (un)lucky you.

💜 Feel free to fill in the blank for any whys and hows you think of to fit your OC/self/sona as you so please <3

Elanor

💖 Normally an actress and casting director, first time as an executive producer for the drama. Dreams of bringing her own romantic screenplays to life. Hasn't quite proven herself the way she wants in the industry to feel confident enough in them.

💖 Catalyst for the drama being made. A "friend" mistakenly recommended the 14DWY book to her. She absolutely loathes all the psychological horror of it but sees the potential it has.

💖 Also the reason [REDACTED] was immediately cast, and you as well once she saw your chemistry with him while reading for a minor role. He hadn't shown a fraction of as much interest when reading lines with other potential candidates, so she decided to take the risk of an untested talent as the headliner.

💖 Refuses to use her family's name to get her stuff made. She wants her works to speak for themselves. Very picky about who she works with due to her family having hands in most of Corland's entertainment industry so she hardly gets a genuine interaction beyond ass-kissing.

💖 Always partial to working with Conan's small studio since he was the only director to give her any sort of criticism in spite of her family, as gentle and polite as it was. She still cried a little in the dressing room though.

💖 Genuine confusion when Conan wants her to act as both a producer and assist with direction. She only intended to bring it to his interest. But how could she say no to someone whose judgment and opinion she respects so much?

Conan

💖 Runs and owns a small scale studio in the Bay that seems to pick and choose its productions at random. It is in fact Alice sneaking into her dad's home office and putting scented stickers on the ones she likes. (She only reads the titles)

💖 Extremely proud of Elanor for getting so far on her own, and would take on one of her dozens of scripts no questions asked if she'd only work up the courage to show him one. So imagine his surprise when she comes to him with a romantic horror instead of one of the fairy tale romances he sees her scribbling notes on during breaks.

💖 While he’s the one with the final say, he does try to let Elanor have as much free reign as possible on the project in the hopes to boost her confidence.

Kiara

💖 A super-star actress and model that got her start in Corland’s local industry, but quickly hit it big.

💖 When she isn’t drowning in work, she’ll swing through town to check in on her sister.

💖 Desperately wants to star in one of Elanor’s productions, but respects her sister’s desire for independence. Though she does like to tease about certain casting decisions on the drama when made aware of them.

the rest of the cast are unfortunately very silly i couldn't resist

Moth

💖 Started a talent agency out of spite for the terrible castings in their favorite media. Got further invested upon realizing they could read the scripts before the movies or show adaptations were even announced.

💖 The one who pushed you to audition for a minor role in the production once the rumor about who was cast as the main love interest reaches them. They've heard all the horror stories about [REDACTED] so wanted the inside scoop. Horrified and fascinated to find out you get the lead role. It’s like watching a train wreck.

Leon

💖 Joined the theater program initially because of you, but got really into it. Moved away to attend a performing arts school until his mother got sick.

💖 Took every wacky infomercial or street performance gig he could find to pay the hospital bills until Teo found out and swooped in.

💖 Eternally grateful for the burden of financial ruin being relieved, so he always accepts the jobs Teo gets for him. He definitely won’t complain since he’s not dressed in an animal costume and shouting nonsensical slogans for cleaning products.

Teo

💖 Met Leon through a shared production and quickly bonded. Attended a different performing arts school and met Jae as a child.

💖 Almost the exact opposite of his game character purely for the funnies. Shy, introverted, can’t flirt to save his life. Still a nepo baby but he can hold his own in acting. Doesn’t like his character much, but is extremely jealous of the confidence he oozes.

💖 Leon and Jae are his only friends in the industry so he uses his sway to get them parts if they haven't already gotten a call back. Gets REALLY nervous on set for certain roles so he needs their support.

Jae

💖 Attended the same school as Teo when they were kids, and is constantly pitching intentionally bad ideas and joking on set to reassure his friend.

💖 A little bit of a thrill seeker, so does all his own small stunts if he thinks he’s capable. Stands there and gawks watching the more extreme stunts, loudest to clap when they go well.

💖 Kept bringing Maple to the shoots cause how could he even think about leaving her at home? She would occasionally break her leash and wander into a scene for head scratches and kisses. The film crew always booed when a PA came to take her off set.

Violet

💖 Completely terrible at caring for plants. Inspired by her role, she starts vlogging about her plant mom journey before shooting even begins. All her advice is completely wrong and terrible. Her personal assistant keeps her in the dark by tending to the plants themselves to fix her mistakes.

💖 Finds out she has a talent for flower arrangement, though. Does thank you vases for the cast and crew on all her future productions that last a lifetime because her PA made sure all the flowers were fake.

Exposition

(silly on set shenanigans)

🎬 Scenes get retaken quite a bit, since you’re still extremely new to it all. Most of the cast and crew expect anger out of [REDACTED] after the 4th call for a re-shoot on the first day’s library scene, but he’s surprisingly cracking jokes about his dye job and reassuring you that you’re doing great. The infamously ill-tempered actor is smiling somehow… even being patient? Not glaring down his co-star for minor slip ups? They cannot recognize this person.

🎬 Violet and [REDACTED] naturally butt heads on set. She respects their acting, not the actor. Zero hesitation to snap back if he’s getting snarky with a PA. You’re the one people have to beg to separate them, and you’re completely baffled that [REDACTED] doesn’t treat others as nicely as he treats you.

🎬 Even though Elanor is a nervous wreck about the first real thing to ultimately make or break her career, she’s scarily efficient on set—as long as no one distracts her. She does get sidetracked once in a while, only because she loves chatting and answering any questions the cast or crew might have. She even brings one of her own cats to set during a slower day to see if they can get along with Maple. Leaves Conan in charge when the horror scenes are being shot. They’re both put off by how vivid they feel, but Conan at least can grin and bear it.

🎬 You and Leon manage to catch up on set while [REDACTED] is otherwise occupied shooting said horror scenes. You tease him about a few infomercials you saw when looking up his actor reel, and Leon teases you back about your unlucky streak of being a tree or a rock in every play the theater program put on when y’all were younger. Laughs even harder once he finds out your most prominent roles until then were “unnamed zombie #5 at the bottom of the pile” and “sleeping train passenger.”

🎬 Try as he might, [REDACTED] doesn’t convince Elanor to change up a few crucial parts of the script for his benefit. His offhand threats of leaving the production fall on deaf ears, as she is all too happy to do re-shoots to make Teo the lead. His innocent hints to you about the shoddy script fly over your head for some reason! You love how it's turning out, what does he mean?

🎬 Super shy Teo prefaces and warns his co-stars before acting in every scene of his character being excessively flirty. Most of the actors have worked with him at some point or another beforehand, so they let him go through his routine without issue. Some crew members love the whiplash of him switching between overly courteous and smarmy, others vastly prefer the flirty character and mourn the loss as production comes to a close.

The Build Up

📺 The higher ups pressure Violet to start a short-lived streaming career to boost interest, since she’s hopeless with plants. She amasses a cult following for her MMO reviews, blind raids on new patches, and her wild ride of a Minecraft playthrough. In the end she winds up preferring to play games off stream, but once in a blue moon she’ll do a first time raid stream so her more dedicated fans can join and watch her alliance get wiped. Creative trolling is highly encouraged.

📺 Teo, Jae, and Leon appear on a late night TV show for promotion. It was meant to be for Teo and [REDACTED] at first. (Where’s the leading lover? [REDACTED] refused all promo appearances or sit downs without you being involved in them.) The host plays a clip that Teo’s particularly embarrassed about, and he hides his face in shame when the crowd hoots and hollers praise about his portrayal.

📺 [REDACTED] comes across as doting and overprotective of you once you’re pushed into the spotlight of celebrity, and shows increasingly concerning behaviors as the premiere looms closer. Depending on your response, they’ll back off to a point or dial it up. Interviewers and consumers mistake it as the eccentric actor’s “method acting” so the red flags just slide right past.

📺 Elanor and Conan guest star in a podcast for off-the-cuff romance enthusiasts. Their strangely cagey and joking comments like “there were so many retakes we couldn’t keep track of what was meant to be the actors messing around or part of the final cuts,” and “we’ve actually sent all the reviewers 1 of 14 versions with completely different endings,” leave listeners all the more curious to see the film.

The Climax

🎉 Reception is huge, in good ways for most. The majority of the cast see a surge in popularity if they didn’t already from the hype.

🎉 Teo bemoans his endless offerings for sarcastic pretty boy jobs, Leon makes enough to get picky about his roles (and pay Teo back), Jae somehow cons a studio into an action film starring Maple—and subsequently adopts every single one of her stunt doubles.

🎉 Moth throws the agency away to start adapting anime and manga themselves. Elanor finally feels validated enough to bring one of her romantic screenplays to the big screen, starring her sister Kiara and a very enthusiastic Violet as the leading couple.

🎉 Conan’s studio is overloaded with scripts, and Alice runs out of scented stickers that much quicker. They are severely backlogged send help.

🎉 One determined conspiracy theorist sets out to prove those missing 13 versions of the ending are real, based on minor cuts and inconsistencies purposefully left in the public release.

The End, Roll Credits

choose your own ending

Bad End 💔 - A Falling Star

💔 If you respond negatively to [REDACTED]’s demeanor during shoots and promo: he plays the waiting game, uses his connections and blackmail to make sure all your roles without his name attached don’t garner nearly as much attention as the ones where you’re co-stars.

💔 Your negotiating power quickly plummets as you fall out of demand and end up begging just for the non-speaking roles you once loathed.

💔 The careers of anyone you got close to on set fall apart much faster than yours, before they’re outright blacklisted in the industry.

💔 You begrudgingly call up your last option. He can’t do much for your friends, but their offer to help you make a comeback is always open.

Neutral End 💌 - Just One More Try

💌 If you respond indifferently to [REDACTED]’s demeanor: the drama leads to you getting more offers, though a handful are for playing opposite of [REDACTED], as the on-screen chemistry was too much for studios to ignore for cash grabs.

💌 Elanor has rid herself of the drama’s subsequent rights, despite positive reception, so a sequel sprouts up in the works at a different studio. One that doesn’t mind catering to the whims of their actors when it comes to script integrity.

💌 You arrive on the set to find that not just one, but all of your cast mates except for them were written to have much smaller parts in the sequel. In fact, you rarely find a scene in the revised script where [REDACTED] isn’t alongside you.

💌 Sadly the contract is air tight, just put up with it until it’s over… What’s this clause about further sequels?

Good End 💍 - Off Into the Sunset

💍 If you respond positively to [REDACTED]’s demeanor: you’ll sadly announce at the post premiere press conference that acting was a one-and-done adventure for you. Retired effective immediately, no farewell interviews.

💍 You’re spotted around town for a few weeks in a mask with a tall, darkly dressed companion at your side before you disappear from the public eye and Corland Bay all together.

💍 A few of your friends at least have an idea of where you are, and they meet up with you whenever you're in a nearby city. None of them can recognize the man glued to your side, though. Not that he'd say anything to clue them in.

💍 After months of near inactivity, [REDACTED] mysteriously deletes their socials without a word, sparking confusion and outrage among hardcore fans still desperately hoping for a sequel.

#14 days with you #14dwy #14dwy au #momo writing #wow look i posted not requested stuff #and it's NOT only emo boy??? wild #<- i am capable of this sometimes #wrote it in like 2 days back in november from brainrot ngl #and now it's here so it can stop haunting me!!!#i do wanna write little drabbles (mostly about angel's audition) but who knows if that'll happen #if u see issues bc of having to remove discord formatting no u didn't #AND if u saw this on discord b4 no u didn't #i wanna add river once he's in da game cause i have many ideas

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