The End Will Justify It All - Chapter 6

Daryl: If ya bite it n’ ya die, it's poisonous. If it bites ya and ya die, it's venomous.

Carl: What if it bites me and it dies!?

Enid: Then you're poisonous. Jesus Christ, Carl, learn to listen.

Glenn: What if it bites itself and I die?

Michonne: That's Voodoo.

Abraham: What if it bites me and someone else dies?

Eugene: That's correlation, not causation.

Tara: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die?

Y/N: That's kinky.

Daryl, throwing his hands up and walking away: Oh m’ god.

Michonne: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks into this room.

Y/N: Screw that, I’m not kissing any of you.

*Rick walks in*

Y/N: Fine, I’ll do it. Rules are rules you know

NEW WRITER ALERT.

What an excellent first fic! I got all tingly reading it. Can’t wait to read more from this talented writer!

DISTRACTED

2 Nov 2023

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: Explicit, implied sexual content, sexual language, swearing

Setting: Alexandria

Summary: Upon realising how potent your little infatuation is with a certain archer, you decide to act on it. 

Author Note: My first ever fan fiction. I had this idea to express how I'd think sexual tension with Daryl could potentially manifest.....it is definitely harder than it seems to try and capture already existing characters and write them successfully. I’m a bit unsure about the dialogue, and the ending feels a bit rushed, but I hope it works.  - Sól

Never did you believe that these ‘chemicals' you always heard about were capable of affecting a person in such a way. You always used to think that being infatuated to this degree was a farce, a fun exaggeration of the truth. But my god were you wrong. And perhaps you've been wrong for a while.

That's what you realised sitting amongst your family in your shared Alexandrian home. You had been here for a couple of months now, and everyone was comfortable enough to let their guards down and enjoy a domesticated, casual occasion. Everyone was happy. You could hear Abraham's hearty laugh bouncing off of the walls. You could make out Glenn cracking some joke to the right of you. Rick was relaxed for once, smiling at the scene before him. Rosita and Tara were conversing to your left, but you'd checked out of the gossip session after getting caught up in the sight across the room.

You hadn't even meant to get distracted.

You swear.

You also swore you could hear Rosita asking you something, but alas, those chemicals in your brain fogged all of your other senses.

With his arms crossed, you watched as his hand smoothed down from the top of his shoulder, so tantalisingly slowly, down to his elbow and back up again at an ever agonising pace. You stared, enraptured, as his strong, muscular palm very lightly gripped his bulging bicep absentmindedly, while he nodded in response to a very animated Aaron. 

That was something you liked about Daryl. No, it was something that you realised made you embarrassingly aroused; the squareness of his hands and definition in his arms had you reeling. There was something in particular about passing by Daryl, whether he was tinkering with his bike, or back at the prison working the gates, or simply walking about the streets in Alexandria, that really got you going — his forearms shifting when twisting a screwdriver, his triceps flexing when aiming his crossbow, and the sheen of sweat glistening from his shoulders in the hot heat…

Reluctantly dragging your eyes from his arms and across his broad chest, your eyes met his two steely blues which were now looking directly at you.

Resisting the urge to look away, it was as if time stopped. You felt confined to the lounge by his stare, and it was exhilarating. The tiny smirk which lifted the corner of Daryl's mouth had flipped a flirtatious switch in you, and your eyes began to traverse the length of his body as if your life depended on it.

Slowly crossing your legs and slipping your hand down your leg and across your thigh, Daryl continued his equally invasive perusal of your body as your gaze travelled lower and lower down his. The tension became palpable. 

A myriad of dirty thoughts came to light, as you not-so inconspicuously trailed the waistband of his black jeans. Now that you mentioned it, the belt holding them up looked a little tight, as if whatever tent that was underneath was just about to protrude and —

“What are you so hot and bothered by Y/N?” Tara cheekily asked while trying catch a glimpse of whatever it was causing you to blush. 

“I think we already know the answer to that” Rosita said. Still in a bit of a daze, you uncrossed your legs and covered your cheeks to try and subtly dissipate the redness there. 

“I’m not. ‘Was just thinking about stuff…” You murmured. Rosita put a hand on your leg and leaned in to whisper something. 

“I bet. But it definitely wouldn’t have anything to do with the surly, tomato-faced man over there, would it?”. You grasped whatever courage you had left and snuck a peek at Daryl, who was now hiding behind a glass of something, having moved to another side of the house. You noticed the glass he was holding wasn’t very effective at hiding his slight fluster. 

You sighed. “No, it doesn’t.” You deadpanned. “In your dreams ‘Sita. It’s not like that.”

“Oh, but it is” Tara interjected. “Look, we’ve known each other for a while. I’d like to say we’re good enough friends for us to know that—” 

“You have a fat crush on Daryl. And everyone knows he has a fat crush on you.” Rosita finished.

You were usually a very honest and down to earth, but now, that couldn’t be further from reality. You decided you could play this two ways. You could keep denying your sexual interest in the man. Or, you could admit to your imagined undressing of him and succumb to their teasing. You decided with the former.  

“I’m not even going to entertain that. Just because we’re good mates, doesn’t mean anything but that. Mates. Friends.” You explained. You half-knew they could see through your facade, but you trudged forward anyway, digging yourself into a hole of your own making. Pointing at Rosita, you added “Plus, as you said, the dude’s surly as fuck. He’s more concerned with trying to squint like Zoolander than anything else…”

“Y/N likes Daryylll!” Tara sang merrily at an annoyingly high pitch. Her and Rosita laughed, continuing to teasing you for a bit longer. They got back to talking again when they realised you wouldn’t budge, so you utilised the opportunity to find Daryl again. 

There he was, seated in an armchair with his signature, piercing eyes surveying the room. It was like he practiced that squint in the mirror. It was almost as practiced as male models on a runway. ‘Daryl could be a model’ you thought. He had that look about him. He had a gorgeously well built, muscular frame, strong enough to pick you up and throw you, probably. His signature scowl was more like an intense gaze, replicating exactly what you saw of those men in magazines. Except, it was Daryl. He was hotter than all of those men combined. He was the epitome of man. Daryl Dixon was gorgeous. Your smile widened substantially just thinking about it. The throb down below was getting electrifyingly worse. It was hard not to imagine his calloused hands gripping onto both of your spread thighs, descending onto you with those whirling blues and smug curling up of his mouth. He was so incredibly hot, and there was nothing you could do about it.  

You guess you did have a ‘fat’ crush on Daryl. 

Realistically, what was the worst that could happen if you made a move? It wasn’t usually your style to be the first to initiate that sort of thing. But you two had such a deep friendship that a little admission of something more couldn’t ruin it, right? You could feel your heart beating in your chest. Even if he didn’t reciprocate, surely it wouldn’t diminish the bond the two of you shared ever since you met in Atlanta. Worst case scenario, you’d have to distance yourself for a while. That’s not so bad. 

Deciding to be brave, you abruptly got up and grabbed a drink from the table. ‘A bit of liquid courage’ you hoped. Receiving knowing looks from Rosita and Tara, you rolled your eyes at them, only to notice Daryl was gone. Drinking a glass (or two), you approached Carol. You were about to ask her of his whereabouts when she beat you to it. 

“Down the hall, in the kitchen I think” she stated as you approached, with a seductive wink to go with it. She was a very perceptive woman. 

Shooting her a tiny grin, you slowly made your way down the hall. Whether placebo or not, you could feel a slight buzz from the alcohol already. After all, you didn’t drink these days. 

The music was a little bit quieter down here. Psyching yourself up, you made it to the kitchen’s entry, and there you saw him. He detected your presence before you even made it to the door, ever the skilled hunter. 

“Hey…” Daryl said. You leaned against the archway, glass in hand, and smiled. Before you could reply, he grabbed something from the counter and flicked it at your forehead from across the room. It bounced straight off and onto the ground. 

Maintaining eye contact with him, you sipped the rest of your beverage, and placed the glass on the small kitchen island. Picking up what you realised was a blueberry from the ground, you threw it at him with more force than was necessary. He dodged it just in time. 

“That’s not very nice, Daryl” you said lowly, your smile widening. His eyes travelled down your body quickly and back up to your eyes as you got up from your crouched position. “What are you doing here anyway?” You asked, moving into the kitchen to stand next to him and lean on the counter. 

“I was tryna grab more beer”.

You hummed. That switch was flipped again. In the split second you had to come up with a response, you noticed he was gazing upon you with an equal amount of fervour. 

“Are you saying I'm distracting you?” you asked in a sultry tone. Inhaling slowly, you could smell the leather of his vest, and something woody. God did you love it. 

Daryl replied with a soft, low grunt. You slowly moved your hand and rested it on his cheek. Pushing away the thought that he could feel the perspiration emanating from it, you tapped your thumb a few times on the mole above his lip.

“You know, for as long as we’ve known each other, I don’t think I’ve ever told you how cute your mole is”. 

“Cute?” Daryl questioned breathily. “ I aint’ cute”.

He broke from your gaze and looked down at the proximity between you both. Removing your hand and placing it next to his on the counter, you lightly shook your head. 

“I think you’re wrong about that.”

Biting his lip in that little way he usually does, Daryl looked back up, seemingly gaining a bit of confidence. He pinched the bottom hem of your shirt, fiddling with a loose thread near your hip.

“Well, I think ya look cute in this shirt…couldn’t stop looking at ya before…” he trailed off. 

Getting imperceptibly closer, you could hear Daryl’s soft, shallow breaths. His eyes flicked to your lips and back up. You gently placed your other hand onto his one at your hip, and trailed your fingers along Daryl’s forearm until they reached the crook of his elbow.

“Well, if you liked what you were seeing so much, why didn’t you come over?” 

His hand was now fully splayed on your lower hip, thumb caressing the space there.

“Could say the same ‘bout ya”.

His little smirk shot arousal straight through your body. Suddenly you were aware of how hot it was in the kitchen. The space around you cracked with anticipation. The soft moonlight filtering through the kitchen window juxtaposed the heat permeating between your bodies. You could see the desire glimmering in Daryl’s eyes. 

“I’m here now…” you breathed. 

Dragging his hand up to your waist, Daryl pulled you closer. Your arm moved upwards along his toned bicep and shoulder to rest gently on the side of his neck. You could feel the intense pulse of blood through his veins, making you acutely aware of the intense throbbing making its way to your core.

“The things ya do to me woman…” Daryl husked. 

Pulling your bodies completely flush, you inched your face closer to his. Wrapping both of your arms around his neck, you whispered in his ear.

“Maybe you should do something about it…”

In an instant, his other hand came up to hold your jaw, and his lips desperately connected with yours. At first it was a bit rushed, but you blamed that on the adrenaline pumping through your bodies. He took your bottom lip into his mouth, and finally the kiss slowed. The hard, fiery melding of your mouths became more intense by the second. It was a delightful push and pull of lip and tongue. You could feel Daryl growing exponentially hard in his pants. As you carded your fingers roughly through his hair, Daryl’s hands smoothed down your back. His hands reached lower and lower, until he had a handful of your backside and —

“Daryl! Did you grab the — oh.” Rick exclaimed.

Too caught up in the moment, the both of you abruptly pulled apart with a loud *pop* sound. Gawking at the impassioned scene before him, Rick’s stunned expression turned knowing. “Uh… I’ll leave you both to it” he said with a half-concealed smile.

As Rick exited, you both turned to look at each other again, still in the same position as before. You were both heaving in breaths of air. A few seconds passed before he broke the silence. 

“Damn girl…”

“That was…woah…” you said a little dreamily. Moving into your lips once again, Daryl gave your butt a hard squeeze. 

“Fuckin’ Rick had to ruin it…” he muttered into your mouth with a bit of feigned disdain. Without breaking the kiss, you bit down on his lip, and dragged your hands down to his chest and fiddled with the collar of his sleeveless shirt. 

“Doesn’t mean we can’t continue this elsewhere…"

Breaking the kiss, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, and gave you the cheekiest smile you’d ever seen. 

“Don’ have ta’ tell me twice girl”

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Carol: Who do we know that has handcuffs?

Y/N: Well, Daryl and I—

Daryl: -elbows Y/N in the ribs sharply-

Y/N: ...think you should ask Rick.

(Sorry, decided to edit)

The comfiest of comfort movies

Watching labyrinth again and all my problems have dissipated

Birthday Girl

Mikey Berzatto x Female Reader 

Summary: You show up at The Beef on your birthday, a bit earlier than Mikey was expecting you. But that’s alright, you’ll still get your birthday gift, dont you worry.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex, unprotected sex, public sex, creampie, teasing, praises, pet names

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: Hi hellooo! So, this is a late birthday gift for my sweet @chelseasdagger because I know how hard she fell for Mikey, especially with how he looks in season 2? The beard?! I mean we all love it right? Thank you @suitsofwo3 for proofreading this mess and I hope those of you who choose to read it will enjoy it. This is my first time writing for Mikey so I hope I did him justice but if I didn’t…dont tell me, thank you. 

@chelseasdagger Pea I hope you’ll like this, this is all written with you in mind, and I know we talked about a lot of different ideas for birthday fics over the year and this is I guess a bit different but I hope its still okay. I love you, happy birthday!

You straighten up the dress one last time and clear your throat, mentally preparing yourself for the chaos that’s about to ensue the moment you step through the door of the Berzatto restaurant. You loved The Beef, of course you did. You enjoyed most of the time you chose to spend helping around the sandwich shop, but you also knew how overwhelming it could get.

Pushing the designated staff door on the back of the building, you step inside.

“CORNER!”

Keep reading

This was a fun read! The palm kiss had me melting 🫠

Warnings: Violence, guns, hostage situations, and ambiguous angsty ending.

Pairings: Hans Gruber x Female Reader, Reader uses She/Her pronouns

Word Count: 2,300+

Summary: Hans is carrying out his infamous heist when his attention is captured by Nakatomi Corporation's secretary.

AN: I was watching South Park and Hans Gruber was there... the new chapter of Jasmine and Rose will be out sometime next week... hopefully. Please excuse the gap in updates, I was in Ireland. Excuse spelling errors and incorrect translations, I don't speak German.

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿ ☆ ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Read on Ao3

Christmas Day couldn’t have been going any better for Hans Gruber. Currently packed into a van like sardines with his crew, Hans and his men awaited their arrival at Nakatomi Plaza. There was nothing quite like being crammed into a van with several men that made you appreciate the smell of fresh air like never before.

Once the van came to a stop, he exited, happy to at least be out of the van’s sweaty confines. Standing there with his hands in his warm pockets, Hans waited for the all-clear from Karl and Theo. Once they had radioed in, confirming the security systems were down, he led his men expertly throughout the maze of the building. It was as if he had walked this very path hundreds of times despite never stepping foot in Nakatomi Plaza before, it was the mark of a true criminal mastermind, unwavering confidence that could get him anywhere he desired with so much as a smile and an arch of his eyebrow. 

Theo had ensured that every possible exit from the tower was now inaccessible, escalators, phone lines, and cameras were all powered off after he’d shut every gate. Power would still be supplied to ensure that, outwardly, everything looked fine. To be truthful, Theo was a smart boy, he had a mouth on him, sure, but Hans was sure he could make something meaningful with his life, god knows why he resorted to a life of crime, not that it was his business but he felt that out of everyone in his crew, Theo stuck out the most, he didn’t belong there, he belonged in some fancy college as a computer science major or something other. 

Shaking his head to clear his wandering thoughts he stepped into the elevator with his posse, humming softly to himself, he let his thoughts wander once more. So far, their plans were going off without a hitch, soon enough he’d be known as the man who robbed six hundred forty million dollars worth of bearer bonds right from underneath Nakatomi Corp’s noses, serves them right for their greed. Smirking to himself, he couldn’t help but imagine what he was going to do with his money, perhaps a nice vacation in Tahiti.

A soft ping rang out signaling they reached their desired floor, bringing Hans out of his thoughts, the noise was quickly drowned out by the loud party which had yet to notice them. Stepping out of the elevator first, Hans looked around before catching sight of the secretary who was seated at her desk engrossed in a Vogue Magazine, walking up to her flanked by his heavily armed men, catching her attention, he winked at her.  

Immediately, her eyes widened in fear as she glanced at the guns, gasping softly, Hans shushed her with a finger against his lips and a sultry smile. Stepping in front of the crowd, he let his men surround him from behind before Karl fired a warning shot into the air, screams from the party-goers filled the once joyful room causing everyone to fall into a fit of hysteria. He allowed his men a couple of minutes to gather everyone in the middle of the room, gesturing for the pretty secretary to do the same. Rolling his shoulders, he reached into the breast pocket of his suit and opened his notebook before raising his hand up in a “stop” motion. Effectively quieting the crowd, he cleared his throat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen,” Hans spoke, looking almost annoyed by the noise, the crowd quickly fell silent not wanting to anger their new captor. “Due to the Nakatomi Corporation's legacy of greed around the globe, They’re about to be taught a lesson on the use of real power. You will be witnesses. If our demands are not met, however-” he paused frowning sadly, as if to mock them. He spoke quickly with ease and yet, Hans couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering back to the secretary.

“You may become participants instead.” He said in a noticeably more grim tone. Checking his notebook, he broke eye contact with her and inhaled deeply, searching the crowd. “Now, where is...'Takagi'? Joseph Yoshinobu Takagi, born Kyoto, 1937…” 

Stepping closer to the crowd, everyone took a step back in fear as Hans eyed them like a panther selecting its next meal, every so often glancing back at the woman. Toying with them almost lazily, he spoke cooly, inspecting the crowd, “Family emigrated to San Pedro, California, 1939. Interned at Manzanar, 1942 to 1943. Scholarship student, University of California, 1955. Law degree, Stanford, 1962. MBA, Harvard, 1970. President, Nakatomi Trading. Vice chairman, Nakatomi Investment Group.” Taking a breath, he inspected an older man curiously, pretending as if he didn’t know Mr Takagi was right behind him. 

“Enough,” Mr Takagi said, pushing his way closer to Hans. 

“And father of five,” Hans said turning around slowly to meet Mr. Takagi’s gaze, his face remained impassive, not giving away any clues as to what kind of captor the employees of Nakatomi Corp would be dealing with.

Looking at him, Mr. Takagi, no doubt scared, tried to keep a blank face under Hans’s scrutiny, “I am Takagi,” he said, managing to keep his voice from wavering.

Hans extended his hand and spoke civilly as if he wasn't indirectly holding them all at gunpoint, “How do you do?  It’s a pleasure to meet you,” after shaking his hand, Hans gestured to the elevator. Before giving Mr Takagi a choice to follow his directions, Karl pushed him towards the elevator forcefully.

Walking back up to the front of the room, Hans stopped in front of the secretary he was eying earlier, “Hm, a beautiful woman like you working as a mere secretary is preposterous. Mein Schatz, you deserve to be on a beach somewhere enjoying the sun,” Hans said circling her with sadistic joy painted on his face.

Looking at Hans with clear fear in her eyes, she didn’t respond, flinching slightly when he leaned closer to her, holding her breath in fear of angering him, she looked around at her fellow coworkers silently begging for help.

“Put your hands up, mein Schatz,” he said teasingly, enjoying the fear-stricken expression on her face as she followed his orders. Trailing a finger along the curvature of her hip, he smirked devilishly.

Suddenly, almost out of nowhere, the woman smiled arching an eyebrow at Hans as she slowly and teasingly put her hands up, “You wouldn’t hurt me would you?”

Even Hans’s very own men were shocked by this woman’s unusual behavior, one second she looked like she was about to burst into tears and now she was… smiling? Glancing at each other warily, they watched their boss flirt with the secretary.

“Absolutely not, that would be an unforgivable crime, a waste of the world’s most beautiful gem even,” Hans smiled admiring the woman’s beauty. Glancing at her hands, reached out for her hand so he could inspect her rather large wedding ring glinting in the light, anybody with working eyes could see it, the sheer magnificence of the diamond ensured that. “Married, hmph, must be one lucky bastard, huh? Does he treat you well mein Schatz?” he grinned from ear to ear, stepping closer to her.

“He’s truly awful. So much so he left me alone for a week,” she snipped, suddenly turning sour before turning away from him with an indignant huff. 

She was certainly feisty.

Did she not realize who he was? Or see the guns? Either blind or stupid they confluded, about to place bets on which of the two it was, Hans’s men saw him frown and make a sudden move, drawing their attention back to him.

Standing up to his full height, Hans moved closer to her taking her hand in his once more to turn her back around before placing his finger under her chin and tilting it upwards.

“I’m sorry Mein Schatz, I beg of you, please forgive me for this grave sin I have committed,” breaking his playfully flirtatious character, Hans frowned, reaching out to stroke her cheek with his thumb.

“Begging are we? I thought you were above that…” snickering softly, she leaned into his caress. 

Cheeky little minx…

“Meine kleine Schauspielerin, I see our time apart has not dulled your quick tongue, you’re still as mouthy as ever, meine Gattin” Hans growled playfully.

Did he just say… meine Gattin… as in… my wife?

Now his men truly were confused, this, this woman- you- you were his wife?!

“Was I believable?” you smiled smugly, purring into his ear seductively.

“I’m afraid your rather expensive tastes gave you away mein Schatz, the Vogue Magazine, your clothing choices, and not to mention your… ring…” holding your hand up to his lips, he pressed a kiss to your palm before pulling you closer.

Cupping his cheeks, you leaned forward and kissed him passionately, slowly trailing one of your hands down his chest. Pulling away, you spoke breathlessly.

“I missed you, you know the last thing I’d ever do is take off my ring,” you said sincerely. Despite your playful snark and attitude, everyone witnessing your little show of intimacy was able to tell just how deeply in love you two were with each other, the love in both your eyes was proof enough. 

“You’re a needy little thing, one week without my presence and you become all lovey-dovey. I won’t lie, I do like this side of you though Schatzi,” basking in your affection, Hans wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing you tightly up against his chest. 

He may be a criminal but he was still a gentleman, pressing a kiss to your forehead he paid no mind to his gawking crew or even Mr. Takagi. Your happiness was his number one concern and he could care less whether or not his men agreed, they were all replaceable anyway.

Gently running your fingers over the lapel of his suit you gazed up at him curiously with a teasing smirk, “Is this new? John… Phillips London is it?”

“You truly are my wife, yes, yes it is. Do you like it? I had it made in your favorite color,” he said with a smirk, placing a hand over hers.

“I think it looks rather dashing on you, though, I’d much rather see you without anything on,” tugging on his suit playfully, you leaned forward to whisper in his ear with a vexing grin.

Used to your seductive antics by now, Hans rolled his eyes before taking your hand in his to stop your hand from wandering, “Geduld, mein Schatz. I don’t perform well in front of audiences.”

“There doesn’t have to be an audience, I know of a couple conference rooms that are no doubt empty right now..” you said under your breath in a sultry tone, one which you knew would get him to bend to your will.

Clearly, under your spell, Hans’s will to resist was starting to waver, he considered himself impenetrable and unwaverable when it came to most things, but when you were involved? Forget it, all sense of rationale was thrown out of the window. As he was considering your offer, Karl cleared his throat trying desperately to get the attention of his boss as he and Theo were now ready to head up to the safe. Theo, knowing the safe would take a long time to crack, was eager to get started as soon as possible.

“Herr Gruber…” Karl paused, unsure of how to address you, “Frau… Gruber, sorry to interrupt your… reunion… but we must get going if we want to stay on schedule,” he said softly, trying not to come off as rude in front of his short-tempered boss. 

Narrowing his eyes at Karl, Hans glared at him before turning back around to face you. “Unfortunately, I must get back to work mein Schatz. Why don’t you go sit pretty at your desk and when I’m done I’ll give you your Christmas present? I need someone with a brain to watch over these fine people anyway,” looking back at the men he stationed to guard the hostages he rolled his eyes. Sliding his hand over your waist, Hans pinched your hip.

Playfully whacking him, you sighed, rolling your eyes as you detached yourself from him and plopped back down on your seat, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll just sit over here, forgotten, uncared about, and unloved,” picking up the Vogue magazine you were reading earlier, you pretended to be uninterested and unaffected by Hans’s departure.

Pressing one last kiss to your forehead as he bent down, Hans stood up straight assuming his usual put-together demeanor, before whispering to you softly so just you could hear him, “Ich liebe dich, mein Schatz.”

Reaching out for his hand, you lowered your voice significantly, losing your playful edge, “I love you too, please be careful.”

About to make a cocky joke, Hans caught himself once he saw the genuine worry in your eyes. He knew every time he went on a mission like this one, you became the epitome of a worried wife. Given the circumstances of this heist, he knew the stakes were much higher this time, it was half the reason he let you work undercover at Nakatomi in the first place. He found it endearing but the last thing he wanted was for his precious wife to worry.

“Don’t worry Mein Schatz, I will come back to you and we will celebrate Christmas together like a proper family,” he said, smiling at her as he squeezed her hand comfortingly.

“I promise,” he whispered, barely audible before letting her hand slip out of his.

“Now, Mr. Takagi, I believe we have business to conduct,” smiling charismatically, he gestured to the elevator once more before following him in.

Translations: Mein Schatz - My darling/my sweetheart, Meine Gattin - My wife, Meine kleine Schauspielerin - My little actress

I typically don’t care for the unplanned pregnancy trope - but honestly I’m living for it in this story.

Can’t wait to read more!

Look for the Light - 3

Masterlist

Summary: Four years ago, Joel saved you from certain death. In return, you followed him faithfully. Always ready to do and give him whatever he asked, despite the hurt it inflicted on you, body and soul. Agreeing to go with him to deliver Ellie to the Fireflies… this would be the last time you’d follow him… After this, your debt would be paid.

Relationships: Reader x Joel Miller, Joel Miller & Ellie, Reader & Ellie

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose to give none. Read at your own risk. 18+ (So excited to share this with you. So much to come folks! 🙊😍)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2

You glanced in the back seat and smiled when you noted that Ellie had drifted off. You'd been on the road most of the day and you supposed that once the initial wonder of being in a car had worn off, the teenager had succumbed to sleep. None of you had slept much since setting off on this journey. The teenager had rattled on about things she'd heard at FEDRA school and asked questions whenever something unusual popped into view. The teenager had been quiet for the last hour however and you had relished the quiet at first.

Now it was choking.

Joel hadn't spoken a word to you since leaving Bill and Frank's. You knew he was struggling to come to terms with losing the two men. He had considered them friends in a messed up sort of way and to find out they'd killed themselves had been a huge blow. Especially so soon after losing Tess... And the journey continued that way until you came across an old service station, littered with cars.

"We need gas." He announced, pulling in and parking up.

Ellie was quick to jump out of the car and you chuckled at the teenager's enthusiasm.

"Where you goin'?" Joel called out when the teenager sprinted towards the building.

"I need a piss man." She grumbled and Joel nodded.

"I'll make sure the building's clear." You stated and Joel nodded at you, watching as you and Ellie disappeared inside.

You were quick to ascertain that the building was free of infected and people and left the girl to relieve herself in privacy. You pulled out your pack and rested it on the counter of the derelict cafe, pulling out the box you'd managed to find at the store a few days prior. Your hands were shaking as you pulled out its contents and stared at it, almost willing for what you were looking at to be different. scraping a hand over your face, you let out a shaky breath, willing yourself not to cry but finding yourself losing that battle.

"What are those?" Ellie asked as she sprinted up behind you, grabbing one off of the counter before you could stop her.

"Two dashes -Pregnant... One dash - Not pregnant..." She spoke as she studied it.

"Ellie please give that back." You pleaded but the teenager didn't listen.

"Well this one has two dashes so..." She trailed off as the realisation dawned on her and then her eyes drifted up to you "Wait are you pregnant?"

"Ellie-"

"Is it Joel's?" She interrupted as she glanced out the window before looking at the test again "It is isn't it!"

"Ellie please-"

"Man, he is gonna freaaaaak."

"I know okay!" You snapped, finally managing to snatch the test away from her.

"Where did you even find those?" She asked as she watched you stuff the tests back into your pack.

"The shop we had shit stashed in." You stated as you leaned against the counter and took a deep breath.

"You going to tell him?" She asked and you let out a long sigh before answering.

"Well, I'm going to have to." You grumbled, "Not something I can exactly hide from him."

"What you gonna do though?" She asked "You going to keep it?... Only I can't see Joel playing happy family."

"I don't know Ellie okay!" You choked "I don't know what I am going to do but I would appreciate it if you could keep this to yourself until I tell him."

"Sure... Course." She nodded and you released the breath you hadn't even realised you'd been holding.

"Thank you." You replied with a small nod "Come on. Should get out there before Joel comes looking."

Outside, Joel was leaning against one of the many abandoned cars that littered the area, fuel pumping from inside the tank into the can he had sat on the floor beside him.

"Good?" He asked and you nodded.

"Fine." You replied plainly, unable to miss the slight wince that appeared on his face when you spoke.

"We have to do this every hour?" Ellie asked as she watched Joel feed the pipe into another car's gas tank.

"Gas breaks down over time." He replied, eyes still focused on what he was doing "This stuff's almost water."

"Back in the day, we'd drive 10, 12 hours on one tank." You piped up and Ellie looked at you in awe.

"You could go anywhere." She stated and you nodded "So where'd you go?"

"Pretty much nowhere." Joel grumbled and you smirked at the man's reply.

He wasn't wrong.

Joel blew air through one of the pipes in his hand and you watched as the gas started to travel through the other one, the liquid pattering against the gas already in the can.

"Nice! How does that work?" Ellie asked, her interest piqued.

"It's a siphon." Stated Joel as he looked up at the teenager "It's when liquid... travels against gravity... because pressure..."

"You don't know." Ellie needled and you choked back a laugh at the girl's statement.

"I know it works." He replied, eyes wandering to you and your smirk soon disappeared.

Something Ellie keenly picked up on.

"You two gonna be fucking miserable around each other the whole way?... Cus I'm not sure I can handle much more of this sexual tension."

"There's no sexual tension." Joel grumbled and the teenager rolled her eyes at the man's reply.

"Sure there isn't." She mumbled as she turned around.

"No wandering." Joel called out and glanced at Ellie.

"Okay." The teen replied before pulling something from her pack "This is your fault then."

Joel look almost worried.

"It doesn't matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery."

You barked out a laugh that took not just Joel but yourself by surprise. You can't remember the last time you heard a joke. It had been a long time, that was for sure. Not much to joke about anymore.

"No Pun Intended, Volume Too, by Will Livingston." Ellie announced as she showed you both the cover of the book in her hands "Volume Too."

You rolled your eyes at the girl's enthusiasm before looking over at Joel who was shaking his head.

"Look. You get it? 'Too'? Like, T-o-o."

"Jesus." He grumbled.

"What did the mermaid wear to her math class?" Ellie continued and Joel's expression was one that almost looked like terror.

"An algae bra." She chuckled "Like, algae bra."

"Ellie-"

"I stayed up all night...

"No." Joel almost pleaded and you couldn’t not chuckle at the man's obvious discomfort.

"wondering where the sun went... and then it dawned on me."

"Feel free to wait in the truck." Joel growled, shutting the teenager up for the time being.

"Ugh, okay." She groaned " But just know, you can't escape Will Livingston." She warned, looking at you both as she stuffed the book back in her pack "He'll be back... There's nothing you can do to stop him."

Joel managed to get a decent amount of gas from the cars to last you a little while longer. You took the back seat so you could sleep a while, whilst Ellie took the front. She silently studied the landscape as it flew passed the window, careful when she spoke not to wake you. You made one more stop, swapping places with Ellie again so that she could sleep a while if she wanted to. Instead, the teen decided to rummage around in the back.

The girl found a tape that had filled the car with music and for a while, it felt like it was any normal road trip. Like the ones, you'd had with your parents as a kid.

"Oh, man." Called out Ellie "Got somethin' else."

Ellie was silent a while as she analysed what she had found, her eyes growing to the size of saucers at the images she saw.

"It's, uh... light on the reading, but it has some interesting pictures." She stated and that grabbed both your's and Joel's attention.

"Oh. No, no, no. Put that back." Joel ordered but the teenager didn't listen, snatching the mag bag when you tried to grab it from her "That's not for kids. Ellie." He warned but still, she didn't listen.

"How would he even walk around with that thing?"

"Please get rid of it." Joel pleaded and you once again found yourself smirking.

"Hold your horses." Ellie grumbled as she continued to flick through the pages "I wanna see what all the fuss is about."

Joel gave you a pleading look and you shrugged. You'd get the item from the teenager without endangering them all.

"Why are all these pages stuck together?" Ellie asked and suddenly Joel looked like a fish out of water "Uhh... the..."

"I'm just fuckin' with ya." She chuckled, swatting him with the magazine before sitting back and rolling down the window "Bye-bye, dude!" She chuckled as she threw the magazine from the car.

The music continued to play as Joel drove. The conversation between you and the child flowed easily as you talked to her about what she was seeing. She was a curious little thing and it warmed your heart. Your hand unconsciously rested on your stomach as you imagined what the child inside might look like. You imagined a little boy with dark eyes and wild curls. The perfect balance of you and Joel. The image took away the fear you'd been feeling since you learned about them. You still didn't know what you were going to do. This was no world for a baby but there was no safe way of getting rid of it either... and truth be told.

You didn't want to.

When the sky started to darken, Joel glanced at back Ellie before looking over at you and decided that it was probably time to call it a night. He could tell that you both were exhausted and he was too.

"All right. That's enough for today." He piped up and you looked over at him a moment before nodding at him.

He abruptly turned the truck and drove it across a field towards some woods. Driving a fair way in before parking the truck and pulling out some tins of food. After getting the gas stove going, Joel opened up some tins and started to heat them up in a metal tin pot, the smell making your mouth water.

A short while later you were eating the meal Joel had prepared, savouring the flavours. It was the meal you'd eaten in a long while. You knew the diet of jerky you'd been on couldn't have been giving the baby the nutrition it needed so you hoped a few days of decent meals would help it grow. The more your mind dwelt on the baby, the more attached to the idea of being a mum you became. So you decided you were going to keep it... Whether Joel wanted it or now.

"Slow down." Joel grumbled, pulling you from your thoughts.

"This is slow." Ellie mumbled around a mouthful of food.

"What am I even eating?" She asked as she forked another mouthful in.

"That is 20-year-old Chef Boyardee ravioli." Joel replied.

"That guy was good."

"I actually agree."

The three of you ate in silence a while before Ellie asked what you too were wondering.

"How long we staying out here?"

"I figure I sleep tonight... and drive tomorrow, all day, all night, get us to Wyoming by next mornin'."

"So can we start a fire? I'm freezing."

"Now, why am I gonna tell you no?" Joel snapped and Ellie rolled her eyes at the man's tone.

"Because Infected will see the smoke."

"No. Fungus isn't that smart." You piped up, grabbing the other's attention.

"She's right." Joel conceded "This is too remote

for Infected, anyway."

"People?" Ellie asked and you both nodded in unison "So what are they

gonna do? Rob us?"

"Oh, they'll have way more in mind than that." Joel grumbled and Ellie nodded. No more need be said on the matter.

You set up your sleeping bags for the night, one single light illuminating the camp. You said nothing whilst Ellie and Joel muttered things between the two of them. Your mind was going a million miles an hour whilst you stared at the box just visible inside your pack.

Your mind drifted back to the conversation you'd shared a little earlier with Ellie. The girl needled for clarity on what you were going to do about your situation.

"You need to tell him." She said as she glanced at the man who'd been unpacking the truck "Sooner rather than later."

You'd not said anything. Just nodded at him before graciously accepting the sleeping bag Joel had handed you. You'd set yours up a little away from theirs. Wanting space to think about how you were going to approach the subject. As you lay there staring at the sky you heard Ellie speak, the tone grabbing your attention.

"Can I ask you a serious question?" Her tone sounded almost frightened and your heart ached to reach out and comfort her.

"Yeah."

"Why did the scarecrow get an award?"

Your eyes instantly rolled but you stayed silent. Waiting for Joel to tell her off again.

"Because he was outstanding in his field." He replied and you guffawed at his reply.

Joel Miller had a sense of humour. You be damned!

"You dick!" Ellie laughed as Joel rolled back onto his side. "Did you read this?"

"No." Joel grumbled, pulling his sleeping back higher "Now go to sleep."

Silence settled in the camp for a while and you closed your eyes, willing sleep to come but Ellie's voice pulled you back, just as you felt rest tug just a little.

"Those people you said..." She trailed off, tone again a little frightened "There's no way anyone knows we're here, right?"

Your stomach dropped at her question. You'd be lying if you said you weren't frightened of being found. Especially now.

"No one's gonna find us."

"No one's gonna find us." Joel repeated.

"Okay."

With that, the girl allowed herself to close her eyes and you envied how quickly she fell into a deep slumber. You too allowed sleep to take you and you fell into a dreamless slumber. When you woke, the stars were still twinkling above you and you sighed, looking up to see what it was that must've woken you.

Joel was standing guard, gun in hand and you scraped a hand over your tired face before getting up from your bed.

"Can't sleep?" You asked quietly as you came to a stop at his side.

"Something like that." He replied, eyes scanning the darkness.

"What me to take over?"

"I'm fine." His tone was short and it snapped whatever patience you had left in half.

"God, you're an asshole." You grumbled and this grabbed his attention.

"What?"

"I'm sorry it was me instead of Tess." You grumbled as you turned your back to him "I know you'd rather have her here at your side but I can't change what happened."

"I don-"

"I shouldn't have come." You sobbed, wiping your tears with your sleeve "I keep following you around but you clearly don't want me around. I keep inflicting this hurt on myself and I can't do it anymore."

Joel grabbed your arm and turned you to face him. His expression was impossible to read in the dim light of the camp.

"I don't wish it had been you instead of Tess." He uttered, his face not inches away from yours "I have always wanted you around... Since the day I met you."

"What are you saying, Joel?"

He didn't answer with words. He kissed you hard and your hands instantly tangled in his hair as he walked you back. His lips travelled to your neck and you glanced at Ellie a moment before allowing yourself to succumb to the pleasure he was bringing you.

"Got to be quiet ." He whispered as he opened your jeans and pulled them down over your hips.

You nodded eagerly as you helped rid him of his own jeans before opening his shirt and running your hands over his warm flesh. He dropped to his knees, pulling you with him and you straddled his lap, whining at the feel of his erection rubbing against your folds. Your hand snaked between you and grabbed it, positioning it at your entrance before sinking down. Gasping at how well he filled you. Then you kissed him, the two of you swallowing each other's moans as you stayed there a moment, adjusting to his length.

"We haven't got long." Joel uttered against your lips and you nodded, glancing again at Ellie's back before you both started to move.

"Fuck." You choked as he hit that perfect spot over and over again.

The two of you moved in perfect sync. You met each one of his thrusts, noting how he was wincing. This couldn’t be good on his knees.

"Lay down." You uttered but he shook his head, increasing his pace when he felt you start to squeeze him.

"You close?" He asked and you nodded "Cum for me."

And you did. Your heat squeezed him so tight that he came without warning, suddenly racing to pull out but it was too late.

"Shit." He grumbled as he scrambled to get dressed again "Shit, shit shit!"

"Joel-"

"I shouldn't have cum in you." He growled, berating himself under his breath "Fuck."

"Joel, calm down."

"Calm down??" He growled "Do you get what this means?"

"Yes." You spat, keeping your voice low.

"You could end up pregnant." He growled and you threw your head back, letting out a long sigh as you glanced over at your pack.

He watched as you got up, carefully pulling something from your bag before heading back over to him. Your hands were shaking as you knelt down opposite him, clutching the truth in your hands tightly.

"We can't let that happen." Joel uttered, his brows drawn together "We can't bring a baby into our situation."

You let out a sigh before holding the tests out so he could see them. His eyes drifted from you to what you were holding out to him, his eyes widening as he studied the items carefully.

"It's a bit late for that Joel." You replied plainly, pulling his gaze back to you "I'm already pregnant."

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🥵

Y’all always out here giving some new TV boyfriend to obsess about

♡ Hotline ♡

Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: You and Mikey have been casually seeing each other for a few weeks. After a late night text from him, you make the drunken insomniac executive decision of calling him back. Naughtiness ensues.

Or: the one where you and Michael have phone sex.

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, M/F. Minors DNI // PWP, P!rn With Feelings. Phone sex, flirting, teasing, sexual innuendos, dirty talking, mentions of oral sex (m. receiving), masturbation (m. and f.), sexual fantasies, role-playing scenarios, librarian k!nk, mentions of rough sex. // Blink-and-you-miss-it angst, alcohol use, mentions of insomnia, anxiety and self esteem issues.

Word count: 3.8k

Read below the cut OR on AO3

Notes: Reader wears glasses in this - don't look at me like that, it's integral to the plot 🙄

For the history nerds, the quote at the beginning is from the book "Fire from Heaven" by Mary Renault, about the relationship between Alexander the Great and his friend and lover, Hephaestion.

Enjoy! As always, likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated ♡

His feelings were confused; he wanted to grasp till Alexander's very bones were somehow engulfed within himself, but knew this to be wicked and mad; he would kill anyone who harmed a hair of his head…

… you yawned at the page you’d been reading (i.e., staring at without absorbing a single bit of information), before turning your head to the nightstand and seeing the clock mark 2:49 am.

“Good god”, you whispered, tiredly rubbing your face with one hand, while the other reached for the half-full glass of red wine keeping you company in your insomnia.

Technically, you knew drinking was the last thing you should be doing on a weeknight, when you were having a hard time falling asleep and were expected at work in the morning. But living alone was really not helping you behave like a responsible adult with bills to pay. So, you slowly sip your wine, read your book, and hope that eventually your brain will give up and allow you to pass out for at least a few hours.

Suddenly, your phone lights up with a text. Michael B., it says on the screen. A pang of excitement hits you, and you immediately scoff for reacting so earnestly to a text from a guy you’ve been with (not even biblically, just the daytime coffee dates that people with busy lives manage to pack into a crazy week) for a grand total of two times and less than two hours, overall. Not pathetic at all.

Still, you can’t help but reach for the phone.

Hey, I know it’s late and you probably won’t read this until morning, sorry. Wanna have dinner at that spot we talked about? I can pick you up at the office ;) – M.

You smile, and without really thinking, hit the call button.

He picks up quickly, an amused tone in his voice. “Well, I was not expecting that. What the hell are you still doing up, princess? No work tomorrow?”

You laugh. “God, I wish. I just can’t sleep. Haven’t had one of these nights in a while… my brain won’t shut up, even though I’m so tired I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck”.

“Ooof. That fucking sucks.”

“Yup.”

“Well, I’m glad to be your booty call in this desperate time.”

“Michael”, you laugh so hard you choke on some wine and must set the glass back on the table. “I really don’t think that’s what this is”.

“Oh, no?”, he feigns innocence.

“No…”, chuckling, you continue with the most sultry, mock-seductive voice you can muster “… a booty call is if I was like: Sooo, Mikey… are you, like, busy right now? Do you wanna… come over? I’m aaall alone…”.

You make sure to put particular emphasis on the word ‘come’ and Mike sounds like he is doubling over with laughter. “That was the worst proposition I have ever heard, no doubt”.

“Oh, yeah? Well, you’re officially off my booty call list. I don’t need this kind of negativity in my life.”

“Ah, shit… I fucked up now, didn’t I?”, you swear you can hear his grin from the other end of the line. And see the laugh lines that form on the corner of his eyes when he smiles genuinely, the rare but so cute nose crinkle that makes your belly flutter…

You would love to get a fucking grip, thank you very much, but the wine was making you incapable of keeping a level head in this flirtation.

“Well… all is not lost. Taking me out to dinner is a good start to redeem yourself. If your game is on point tomorrow, your booty call list status might be revised… in the not-so-far future”, you add, suggestively.

“Shit. Now the stakes are on. I gotta be on my best behavior tomorrow, then”.

“I don’t know about best behavior…”. You feel like slapping yourself for your lack of subtlety.

He chuckles. “So… you like them a little nasty, huh?”

You’re glad he can’t see you blush furiously. “Not like that… but I do like a man who isn’t afraid to… take what he wants. Respectfully, of course.”

“Of course… damn, girl. You’re getting me thinking about all sorts of things…”

“Well, you’re the one who started talking about booty calls. It’s technically your fault”.

“That’s fucking rich. I was being a gentleman, sent you a sweet text and all. Not a single sex reference!”, he says, proudly.

“Ok, that is true”, you concede, laughing softly. “Are you still at the restaurant?”

He sighs deeply. “Yeah… paperwork coming out of my eyeballs. I don’t even understand how the hell I organized this mess”. You hear rustling through the line, and imagine the mess of letters, invoices and bills that must be covering his office desk.

“That fucking sucks”.

“Word”. His chair squeaks loudly. “So… what are you wearing?”

You laugh. “You’re unbelievable”.

“What? I’m just trying to keep the conversation light, you know? Nobody wants to hear about my fuckin’ paperwork at 3 am”.

It was subtle, but you could sense something deeper in his words (sadness? self-deprecation?).

“I wouldn’t mind hearing about your ‘fuckin’ paperwork’ at any time of day, Michael”.

The line goes silent, and you fear you went too deep, too soon. Made this weird in record time, wow.

“I didn’t mean it like… I meant if you want to talk to me about your shitty day, you know, you can, but I don’t want you to be uncomf-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay sweetheart. I get it… thank you for that”, he says, softly. “Maybe some other time. Right now, I honestly just wanna forget about this for a little while... I was really pumped when you called”.

“That’s okay. Really?” You smile, relieved.

“Yeah, really. So… wanna make a guy happy and tell him what you’re wearing?”

With a chuckle, you concede. “Well, nothing. I’m in bed and I sleep naked, so… yeah”.

There’s a heavy pause. “Holy shit. Are you for real?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Jesus, fuck… baby, you can’t say stuff like that and expect me to be normal about it”.

You grin, having just decided that, actually, you wanna play dirty.

“Who says I want you to be normal about it? Besides”, you throw back, suggestively, “I hardly think a woman can be held accountable for what she says after four glasses of wine on a Thursday night… naked and alone, in such a big bed…”

“Now, see, that was a much better pitch for a booty call than the first o-”

“I’m gonna hang up.”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry”, he laughs.

“You’re an asshole”. Even as you say it, you’re smiling.

“And you are a minx, lady. Gettin’ a guy all worked up…”

“Oh, my... I don’t know what you mean…”, you whisper into the comforter, now balled up in your fist over your mouth, as if to cover up your blushing cheeks from an invisible audience.

“Oh, I disagree… I think you know exactly what you’re doing”. There’s a note of sarcasm in his voice you find exhilarating. A sudden noise – like a chair squeaking loudly on a panel floor – can be heard from his end. Followed by… a metallic rattle, more subtle but still clear. A… belt unbuckling?

Wait. Is he…?

You grin, amused. “Mr. Berzatto… I’m hearing suspicious noises. What is going on over there?”

A deep grunt. “Nothin’ much, sweetheart. Just making myself comfortable, is all”.

“And how exactly are you doing that, mister?”

“You know… freeing the junk.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Well, that certainly helps set the mood”.

“Hm… baby, can I ask you for something? It’s totally fine if you don’t wanna do it… but I figure I might as well shoot my shot.”

You notice you are sitting up very still against the pillows in your bed, holding your breath in anticipation. “Sure… what is it?”

A heavy pause follows. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat itself out of your ribcage, your throat feels dry, and your tongue sits heavy and thick in your mouth, the taste of wine suddenly overpowering your senses. And you are so horny.

“Could you… send me a photo of you right now? Are you wearing those new glasses?”. He sounds… eager, almost nervous with the way he trips over the second question.

Oh. Something clicks for you, then. You smile. “So, you really liked the new glasses, huh?”

“Shit… c’mon, don’t bust my balls about it”, he says, with an embarrassed chuckle of admission.

“I’m not! It’s very flattering, actually”. You hope you conveyed how much you are not making fun of him. However, you hate misunderstandings, and to dispel any that might be going on here, you decide there is only one acceptable solution.

“Give me a minute”, you tell him, determined. You don’t wait for an answer before you drop your phone and get to work.

Meanwhile, Mikey sits in his rusty office chair, in what he thinks must look like a very… undignified position. Cock out, right hand stroking it lazily, slumped back with his jeans barely down his ass, work shirt dirty and stinking of cooking oil, his entire body tense in a mix of anticipation and shame. A part of him can’t help but wonder if you are fucking with him: laughing from the other end of the line, leaving him hanging – literally and figuratively (he chuckles dejectedly at the realization that he still remembers something from high school Lit class). He guesses he would kinda deserve that. What type of freak asks for nudes after two… dates? Do those rapid-fire coffee-grabs even count? He is so shit at this. Anything more than a casual hook-up or a quickie behind a sleezy pub is rocket science for him. ‘Congrats, loser! You just fucked it, yet again’.

Then, his phone pings. 5 photos received.

In the first one, you are lying on your side, in bed, a dim warm light illuminating the scene. He can see the contours of your body clearly, despite being covered by a layer of nearly sheer white sheets. His gaze follows your exposed collarbone, to the silhouette of your breasts – he is sure you purposefully allowed a bit of side-boob to slip past the entrapment of sheets… just for him.

He swears he could stare at the shapes of your body all day and never get tired – or limp. His dick is throbbing painfully, now.

It does not get better when he sees the rest of the photos. Your face is visible, on those. The last two are his favorites. You are laying on your stomach, with the reading glasses on, as promised – except they sit lower on your nose than usual, so that your eyes peak out from over the top of the frames. Your hair is down, tousled and wild like it’s just gotten messed up. ‘Is this what she looks like after…’. You are holding a glass of wine to your mouth – lips plump and lightly tinged red – that detail drives him a little insane –, and in front of you lays a book, delicately held open with your other hand. And in the last photo, the sheets have slipped lower down your breasts, revealing a generous cleavage. You’re staring directly at the camera with an inquiring gaze, biting your lower lip. ‘Come get me’.

“… Mike? Are you still there?”

It’s been some time since you sent the photos (twenty seconds, which your anxiety tells you is actually half an hour), with no reaction from him. Your cheeks heat up, and you suddenly feel very silly and insecure. Are they even… good? What makes a good nude? Do these even qualify as nudes? You’re not showing anything super explicit… they’re suggestive, at best. Is he going to think you’re a prude? God, why is this so diff-

Mike clears his throat. “Yeah, I… fuck. Fuckin’ hell. Holy shit. Sweetheart… these are so hot. Jesus… thank you so much. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous…”. The last part comes out as a whisper, like he’s starstruck.  

You didn’t know it was possible to get more flustered than you already were. “You’re welcome… I’m flattered I managed to make Michael Berzatto incoherent over some low-res thirst trap selfies.”

“Baby, these are genuinely the hottest pics I’ve ever seen. You look like a hot librarian or something”.

You laugh out loud, triumphantly. “Ah! I knew it!”

“What?”, he laughs along.

“Something you wanna share with the class, Mr. Berzatto?”.

“Fuck, don’t stop calling me that, sweetheart”, he says, sounding out of breath.

“Yeah?”, you whisper.

“Fuck, yeah. It’s just… I’ve got a thing for girls with a kinda nerdy, librarian type of vibe, you know? And when I saw you this last time, holding a book and wearing your reading glasses… I gotta admit, my mind went straight to the gutter.”

Interesting. “Really? What did you imagine then?”.

A pause. “I’m not sure you want to hear it… I don’t want you thinking I’m a pervert or something”.

You sigh. “Mikey, I just sent you near-naked photos of me. We’re having phone sex. We are two horny adults having fun. Besides…”, you switch your tone to what you hope comes across as faux innocence, “… I asked you about it. It is kinda my fault, right? I guess I was kind of… bad”.

“Oh, is that what’s happening?”. He chuckles, as if saying challenge accepted. “Alright, then. When I saw you like that for the first time, this image popped into my head, right? I mean, you looked like a really hot librarian. So, I started picturing you in that scenario, with big glasses and all – just like the photos you sent me… except you had your hair in a cute ponytail, and your lips were even redder with lipstick… and you were wearing fishnet stockings up to your thighs – fuck, you got such nice legs, baby –, and you had a pair of those… what are they called. Uh, kitten heels. Yeah. Fuck, your ass would look unbelievable like that. I mean, it is unbelievable, you know what I mean? When you show up at the restaurant wearing those cute little dresses and skirts, I feel my dick twitching in my pants… that’s how hot you are, baby… that’s how crazy you make me feel.”

His words were streaming out like an avalanche – a filthy stream-of-consciousness. Flash images of all the times you were together pop into your mind. He was always nice and polite to you, if cheeky – that was his personality, after all. You’d never felt disrespected or threatened around him. Maybe that’s why, now that you knew he had been actively thinking about you like this… you were very turned on.

“Too much, sweetheart? You wanna keep listening to this filth?”

“… yeah, Mikey. Keep going. What happened then?”

“Then, I took you to a hidden corner in the library, rucked up your pretty little skirt and ripped your real nice dress shirt open… you know, so I could suck on your tits while I fucked you hard against some shelves. Didn’t even need to rip your panties off, ‘cause you weren’t wearing any. Just lifted you up and slammed my cock right into your pussy… God, you were drippin’ wet for me, and you mewled so sweetly… loud, too. Had to shove my fingers into your pretty mouth to keep you quiet. That’s what I imagined, sweetheart. More or less.”

The crass and vivid way in which he described his fantasy made you speechless. It was exhilarating. Knowing that all those times he had talked to you with a straight face, he had been actively fantasizing about fucking you hard. His words.

“Jesus Christ, Mikey”, you breathe out. “That’s… I can’t believe we had entire conversations while you had a cheap porn flick playing in your head”, you laugh softly, unconvincingly.

He sighed deeply. “See, I knew this was a bad idea… honey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit. I guess I’m just a fucking perv-”

“Babe…”, you interrupt him, gentle, but firm, “shut up, please. I’m messing with you. I told you, it’s very flattering that you’re attracted to me. In fact… it’s super hot. Knowing you were having all those dirty thoughts about me while still being a gentleman… is making me feel all kinds of things, right now.”

“Yeah? What kinds of things?”

“Good things, Mikey… I’m so wet right now”, you mewl, the need for release in your core overwhelming the embarrassment you would be feeling otherwise. Without thinking, you kick the sheets away from your body and cup one of your breasts, kneading it and flicking your nipple – a moan leaves your mouth in a desperate plea.

“Fuck”, he whispers, “you got wet over that filth? Jesus Christ, baby. I won the fuckin’ lottery”.

You are burning with desire, and you can feel your pussy throbbing when you finally give in, sliding one hand down and shoving two fingers inside with barely any resistance. “Mikey… I wanna come so bad. Can you talk me through it… please?”

“Fuck… yeah, sweetheart, anything you want”. He moans, then, and you don’t think you have ever been so turned on in your life. Mikey Berzatto, a horny, moaning mess, jerking off in his mess of an office at 3 am… because of you.

Chicago’s Helen of Troy. You chuckled softly at the thought and decided to up the ante. “Baby… do you know what I was thinking when you were telling that beautiful story just now?”

He laughs, voice recked. “What, baby?”

You pout, and add another finger in, increasing the pace of the thrusts. “I wish you had pictured kissing me real hard, while I unbuckled your belt… would you let me get down on my knees for you, baby? I really wanna have you in my mouth, Mikey, like, right now”. Your words come out broken, sentences all messed up – you sound pathetic, but you are so past caring.

“Shit-”, a gasp, followed by a deep breath and the noise of something hitting a surface really hard. “… holy shit. Baby, I imagined all that and a whole lot more – seriously, you have no idea. Hell, if the lady wants to suck my dick, who am I to deny her, uh? Fuck. Would you let me fuck your mouth, baby…?”

You moan loudly at that and realize you need both hands, putting the phone on speaker – fuck the neighbors – and bringing your other hand to your clit, rubbing lightly, but fast. You were so close. The thought of kneeling on the floor, clothes and hair all messed up from Mikey’s hands, lipstick smudged… looking up at him, and watching his composure unravel because of you…

“Hm… yeah, Mikey, I think I would… ‘cause you’re so nice to me… such a gentleman, even when you’re fucking me hard… would you ask me real nice, baby? Hold my face gently in your big hands, while you fuck it?”

“Fuck, baby… I would treat you so right, you deserve everything-”, he chokes up and, for a few moments, you hear a distant cacophony of noises, like he’s put the phone down. Then, he’s back. “Sorry, sweetheart, I need both hands now”, he chuckles.

You giggle, “Me too… you got me so hot I’m fucking myself on my fingers and rubbing my clit at the same time… and it’s still not enough. I need you…”

“Fuck, that’s so hot. You fuckin’ yourself because of me… I know it’s not enough, baby… you need my cock, don’t you?”

“Yes! Mikey… please…”, you howl, completely out of your mind.

“How do you want me to fuck you, baby? Hm? Want it nice and slow? Nah… I think you like it fast and rough, don’t you? Long as I keep kissing you real good, touchin’ you real gentle, all over your body… you’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”. How he manages to say such filthy things with so much honey dripping from every syllable, is beyond you.

“Yeah, fuck, baby… it doesn’t matter. I’m so wet already, you don’t need to do anything else, just hoist me up in your arms and pin me against the shelves… and shove it in me”.

You are still holding onto a shred of decency because you blush at your own crass admission – still, there is clearly not a whole lot left, as you start rubbing your clit and fucking yourself harder and faster. “I don’t want you to be gentle when you fuck me… I just need to feel your cock stretch me open… wanna feel the sting of it for days, be at work and not be able to focus because all I can think about is how you fucked me so good-”

At this point, you have no idea if he can understand anything you’re saying, because your words are intercut with moans and gasps and mewls and incoherent babble, as you’re about to reach your peak imagining Mikey’s on top of you, railing you into the bed.

“Baby, I’m gonna come… fuckin’ Christ”.

“Mikey- fuck!”.

Your body shakes and your eyes roll back from the strength of your orgasm. Distantly, your brain registers a broken string of moans and curses from the other end of the line.

A few seconds pass, and you feel yourself coming back down to Earth. You lazily stretch out on the bed, completely relaxed and fucked out. “That’s so cute… we came at the same time, babe”, you happily whisper, a ditsy smile on your face.

He huffs, amused “Yeah… what can I say? I’m a romantic at heart”.

You laugh sincerely. “This was… so good, actually. I’m glad I gave into my instinct and called you”.

“Well, I’m even more sticky now”. You both laugh at that. “But I’m also glad you called… like, really glad. Uh, can I ask you something?”

You notice a shift in his voice.

“Yeah… what is it?”

“I don’t want things to get weird between us after this… Like, I don’t want you to feel like you need to do all these things to get me off. You know what I mean? It’s just a fantasy… I’ll have you in any way you want me. Okay?”

You feel a tightness in your chest, and you wish, not for the first time tonight, you had him right in front of you so you could kiss him all over and hug him.

“Mikey… I genuinely liked tonight. And the more we talk, the more I like you. You’re not the only one who feels like you won the lottery…”.

“Baby… you’re too sweet. Don’t you think you already got me blushing enough for one night?”

“That’s fucking rich. I must’ve gone through all shades of red tonight, because of your filthy mouth”.

“Please. You loved it”, he chuckles.

“Yeah, I guess I did”, you concede, with a smile.

After saying goodbye – and confirming that yes, you would very much like for him to pick you up and take you to dinner later – you fall asleep fast, your mind finally catching up to the pleasant tiredness in your body, a soft smile on your lips.

He’s my current hyper fixation and I’m good with it.

I'm coming to you sweetheart... 🖤

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AI