#I needed this after this one hell of a workday

[gazelessmenagerie]

( Bah. Just feeling a bit nostalgic and maybe a smidge of pain but hell, its been going on to four years since my ex left me for someone else on xmas eve so lmfao alsjflsjdg looking at some old muses, eh.. it kinda stings I feel like I may have some muse left but Idk if that's just a fake feeling as in it 'feels' like it but give it a day and it's gone. LIke I feel like I can do it again but eh, maybe it's still too early to really hone in on it. It's just the fact they were suggested by my ex and time was taken to build them up with them so afljsdg its just.. a wierd feeling but I'm kinda taking my time to unravel it and see where I end up. )

( I do miss writing them, its just a bit awkward and I'm still needing to seperate them from being affiliated with that ex. )

#|| Tag: OOC #( do not mind me. just juggling some thoughts. its nothing bad asdfljg ) #( just to end on a lighter note. glad I got to do some writing today. two more days and I can have... well two days off before next workday #( but way better than one day only. the gods know i need a good R and R after this 9 day hell is over. )

[marvelfilth]

Family dinner

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova, platonic!Kate Bishop x f!reader

Warnings: a very poor attempt at humour

Summary: your best friend Kate needs backup after a mishap with Yelena's family

Masterlist

“I need you here yesterday!”

“What?” You whisper-shout, looking around the office to make sure no one noticed you ducking away to take a call from your best friend.

“Please, I'm desperate! I can't do this alone, they're like sharks and I just spilled blood!”

“Kate, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Yelena's family! They're scary as shit on a good day, but now we messed up real bad, and I think they're gonna decapitate me,” she whines.

“Okay, let's backtrack. What did you do?”

“...”

“Kate?”

There's shuffling on the other side, a deep sigh and then, “Melina found the handcuffs. With the fur. They were still attached to the bed.”

You snort, loud enough to attract annoyed looks from your coworkers. “Happens to the best of-”

“And the whip. It was on the bed too.”

You chortle, this time not caring about your surroundings, and swiftly move further down the hall. “She knows Yelena's a big girl, she can ha-”

“Natasha was there too!”

You stop in your tracks. Now that's interesting.

“She'll never let you forget it,” you say with all the confidence you have, even though you've never met the woman before. You know just enough from what Kate and Yelena told you to be sure of that.

“She's not letting me forget it now! She got all sneaky and secretive, whispering with Melina and looking at me, and now I'm on my way to a family dinner. A family dinner with my girlfriend's family, while said girlfriend got called away on some emergency mission,” she huffs angrily.

“There's no emergency mission, is there?”

“There better be!”

You chuckle, shaking your head. It's never a boring day with Kate Bishop.

“So,” she starts, aiming for a nonchalant tone, “I'm downstairs.”

“What?”

“Yep. Waiting for you at the front. Better hurry, parking is expensive as hell.”

“Kate.”

“I'm your bestie. And my girlfriend's mom found the handcuffs. I need you.”

You check the time, noting that the workday is nowhere near it's end. With a sigh, you head for the elevator, not even bothering to come back for your bag.

“I love you.”

“I haven't agreed to-”

“I know what that sigh means!”

You groan. “Yeah, yeah. You owe me.”

×××

Turns out, Yelena's family is even scarier then you imagined.

“So, Y/n,” Melina starts, looking at you like you're one of her lab rats, “Do you usually leave your… sexual… stuff after you're done?”

You turn red, choking on the wine. Kate sends you a look of pity.

Natasha smirks.

“I don't… I'm not sure- Um. Well, no.”

Melina hums, nodding to herself. “Good.”

She digs into her food, and you exhale in relief, feeling like the worst part is over.

“So where do you keep your stuff, Y/n?” Natasha asks over the rim of her glass, her eyes full of mischief.

Kate slides lower in her seat, boring holes into her fork.

Melina perks up, once again regarding you like one of her subjects. “I would also like to know. To pass the advice to my daughter and her girlfriend.”

You gulp.

“Well?” Natasha prompts.

You shudder from the intensity of the look she's giving you.

“Can we move on?” Kate whispers, looking around nervously.

“Yes, of course,” Melina nods, her eyes lighting up like she was waiting for a subject change.

Natasha sends Kate an amused smile, and you relax slightly. Now the worst part is over, you're sure.

“So, Y/n-”

Fuck.

“-are you single?”

You nod, shoving a forkful of some meat salad - which mostly consists of mayonnaise - to avoid talking.

“And you're gay, correct?” Melina asks, peering into your very soul.

You nod again, chewing fast.

“Why are you gay?”

You choke on a piece of potato, wheezing and reaching for a glass of water. Kate almost falls of her chair in haste to smack you on the back. Natasha just looks at her mother, unimpressed. “Really?”

“What?” Melina shrugs. “I'm a scientist, I'm conducting research.”

The redhead groans, rubbing her eyes. “Of course.”

You feel a little better now that Natasha is annoyed.

Melina still looks at you, expecting an answer.

You sigh, “Are you gay?”

She blinks, looking like an owl. Natasha chokes on a laugh, sending you a look of appreciation. Kate mutters something about bathroom and darts out of the room, hopefully to call Yelena and fix all this mess.

“Well,” Melina starts, deep in thought. “I suppose I've never given it much of a thought.”

You nod, feeling accomplished in swaying attention from yourself.

“Natasha.” The older woman turns abruptly. “You are gay.”

The redhead groans, sliding down in her seat. “Mother, please.”

“She's gay, and you're gay. You're both miserably single.”

“Huh?” You frown, affronted.

“Fuck my life,” Natasha mumbles into the table, her face pressed tight against it in a feeble effort of disappearing.

“Yelena's on her way!” Kate walks back into the room, triumphant.

“Finally,” you sigh, pointedly looking at the ceiling to avoid Melina's penetrative gaze. “Where's she, by the way?”

“Hiding, probably,” Natasha snorts, shaking her head. “Escaped the scene of crime and left her girlfriend to pick up the mess.” She raises her glass in Kate's general direction, “You're doing good so far, Bishop. Even brought reinforcement - good thinking.”

“Yes-yes,” Melina nods, her eyes darting between you three. “Yelena's a bit of a coward in that regard, but we have an important matter to discuss.”

Natasha glares at her mother. “No, we don-”

“Natasha can cook. Well, she can microwave.”

“What did I miss?” Kate frowns, settling back into her seat. “Actually, no. I don't want to know.”

“As I was saying,” Melina clears her throat, paying no mind to the murderous look Natasha sends her. You'd feel gleeful at that - Natasha's plan came back to bite her in the ass - if you weren't the other victim in this scenario. “Natasha can cook. She's excellent with knives. She's an excellent shot. She can dismantle a bomb in a matter of seconds. She's a… a catch.”

You smile at the miserable expression on Natasha's face, her cheeks dusted with pink.

“Oh…” Kate whispers, looking at you from the corner of her eye. “Well, actually, Y/n is-” she yelps loudly when your heel connects with her toes, and turns bright red at the shooting pain. “-a bitch. She's a bitch.”

The look in Melina's eyes turns gleeful. “That was excellent.”

Fucking hell, no matter what you do, your grave turns deeper and deeper.

Natasha snorts, chugging her wine like it's water. Melina's mouth opens again, and you say a stupid thing to save yourself from further embarrassment.

“Can we go back to Kate's handcuffs, please,” you mutter with a sigh.

The look of betrayal your friend sends you doesn't work the way she intended, because you don't feel guilty at all.

Melina's mouth snaps shut, her eyes widening. The sight alone tells you you said the wrong thing.

“Have you and Kate ever-”

“No!” you both shout, before the older woman can finish the question.

“Sounds defensive,” Natasha chuckles, reaching for the bottle of vodka.

“Wha- What?” You hiss, glaring at the spy.

“She's- Y/n’s not even my type! And I'm not her type either!” Kate splutters.

“Mhm,” Natasha hums, “that I can see.”

You gape, not sure if you're supposed to be offended. “What?”

Natasha smirks, planting her chin on her fist. “You need a firm hand. Your best friend is anything, but firm.”

Her eyes trail down your body, pupils darkening ever so slightly. Your cheeks burn and, suddenly, it's hard to breathe. You clear your throat and gulp down the last of your wine, carefully avoiding her gaze.

“O-okay. That's- okay, yep,” Kate mutters to herself. “Fuck my life.”

“Am I wrong?” Natasha husks, reaching across the table to play with the golden bracelet on your wrist.

Really, right in front of her mother?

The front door opens with a loud bang, and you jump up, relieved to see Yelena. The feeling doesn't last long, because a second later you notice the bleeding wound on her torso.

“So that was an actual mission,” you mumble, missing the way Natasha snorts in your haste to get Yelena to the couch.

Kate looks pale, but swiftly starts helping Yelena undress. Melina's ready with the first aid kid by the time they finally tear off the shirt.

“So?” Natasha whispers into your ear, sending goosebumps down your skin. “Am I wrong?”

Apparently, not even her bleeding sister can stop her.

“No,” you reply, “you're not wrong.”

She hums, satisfied. “I am miserably single, you know?"

You let out a loud laugh, not even bothering to quiet down when Yelena sends you a murderous look.

“I am miserably single, too.”

She smiles, nodding to herself.

“Want to fix that?” She asks after a bit, her eyes glinting in the soft evening light.

“They'll never shut up about it,” you groan, stepping closer to her.

“Yeah,” she hums, her grin stretching wider. “So?”

"A little help?" Yelena wheezes, glaring daggers at the two of you. "Hello? Your sister is dying."

“Yes,” you reply, not taking your eyes away from her green pools.

“Perfect,” she breathes, before pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I'll pick you up tomorrow at six.”

"Fucking unbelievable," Yelena mutters and yelps when Melina shushes her with a pinch and a hissed "don't ruin my hard work".

Kate just looks like she's about to faint.

You grin. "I can't wait."

#natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x you #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #family dinner

[yourdoorisunlocked]

ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴅᴀʏ ᴠᴇxᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ - ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

𝐀/𝐍: Whew! Ok, I'm taking a small break right now- I have one more request to do, and ofc as soon as I can I'll finish it, but I don't want to burn myself out or anything.

I'm just taking a quick writing rehab right now. Nonetheless, the banter was so fun to do, and I hope you all like it!

If I do write another chapter for the week, it'll probably be for What A Dish, What A Doll!

➺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,903 ➺ Song Recommendation: 𝓔𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓬 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 | 𝓑𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓼

. . .

The chill of February’s frosted breath graced the glass panes of the largest building in the Vee’s district, an imposing force that not-so-subtly hinted at how far their influence and power expanded across the Sinner’s Circle of Hell, as it stood right in the heart of the Pride Ring for all to flock to. No matter how depraved, sadistic, or perverted you were, the territory of the Vees surely had something in store for your insatiable appetite to feast upon. 

And since the first twenty-four hours of the infamously romantic month, chaos had erupted within the offices of the Vees. Other than Halloween, it was the greatest vice of Vox’s hellish existence, filling his calendar to the brim with meetings, product improvement, managing holiday events and sales, and not to mention Velvet’s stupid “Love Potion” gimmick- 

For Christ’s sake, the goddamn holiday started with a ‘V’! Their brand of perfection practically relied on that lovey-dovey nonsense. 

For the past week, the only thing filling up Vox’s schedule and keeping him from you was showcasing shitty rom coms with horribly conceived plots, Velvet rushing around like a mini-hurricane and destroying everything in her wake for her latest fashion show, and Valentino? 

Oh, don’t even get Vox fucking started. 

And now, after all of that overwhelming bullshit that kept him from warming your bed for the past few days, Vox desperately wanted – no, needed to escape and spend quality time with his darling. With you.  

He had the usual Valentine’s Day blueprint in mind: eat ice cream and binge-watch your favorite TV-shows, while you flustered the hell out of him with your affections and make hot chocolate, and then fall asleep in each other’s arms by the fire.

Mundane, cheesy shit like that was the highlight of his days after another exhausting workday keeping it all roped together and navigating Velvet and Valentino's nonsense. 

Their facade was of modern sophistication, perfection at its very finest that was produced for only those who could afford it, and it was all piled into Vox’s lap to regulate the chaotic, unpredictable behavior of his fellow Overlords, and keep their volatile nature in check. 

But the continuous hardship that came with his stressful job would fade with the wintry wind as soon as he stepped off the elevator and into your shared penthouse, and like a patch of sunlight to snow, you’d melt away all his worries with a smile and a rub of his head as you took care of him for the night. 

Almost there... 

The television demon groaned as he crossed the threshold over to your apartments, seeing no need to keep up his perfectly aligned posture. 

And, like a mercy served by Gods, Vox was met with the heavenly sight of you standing in your fluffy, midnight blue bathrobe that you’d received on your birthday, courtesy of Val. Vox would’ve personally burned it to high hell, but you adored the design, and he couldn’t resist you when you pleaded with him. 

“Vox...” crossing your arms at the doorway, his light, his spark, his reason to maintain everything about his own reputation stood with a stern furrow in your brow as you strode over to him. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been overworking yourself again, love,” you grumbled as you took off his bowtie and removed his coat, and you smoothed out the front of his striped vest as Vox stumbled for an answer. 

“I-” *sigh* “I’m not pushing myself that much. You know how the job is, especially around this time,” seeing your face fall and your lips tighten into a straight line, Vox took your hand, squeezing it within his gloved palms as his sharp teeth pulled into a small half-smile. 

“But coming home to you makes it all worth it,” a tender hand dancing with waves of tingling sparks cupped your cheek, and with a heavy sigh, you looked to him with concern and affection swirling within your tender gaze. 

“Yeah, yeah. All I’m saying is those two bumbling excuses of Overlords should at least give you a couple of days off,” you scowled softly, but your frown melted into a flustered pout as Vox kissed it away, and a soft buzz of electricity lingered against your lips. 

“Now, now, enough of that, my dear. We still have the whole night to ourselves, don’t we?” You giggled, a long-awaited melody to his ears as Vox spun you around to press your back against his chest. How beautifully the sound replaced Velvet's usual grating, shrill voice that penetrated his ears. How agreeable you were, that you didn't fight him like Valentino, that you truly cared about him and his well-being.

Sometimes, you'd even force his workaholic ass to return to your apartment and get him ready for bed, practically hauling your grumbling, overworked hubby into bed, and forcing him to sleep in the next morning.

And it was the sappy, lovesick moments like these always reminded Vox that he'd never find anyone else like you.

All the more reason to keep you tightly within his grasp...

“Yeah, I guess, so. You dork,” you flicked the very center of your husband’s face, and he blinked a few times in surprise before chuckling and shaking his head. 

“Oh, yeah? And what does that make you for loving me~?” Vox swayed against you gently, his inner fans suddenly warming himself up more than usual as he poorly attempted to conceal his light blush at having you so close.

Your laughter chimed through the air like the first sunbeams breaking through stormy gray clouds upon the aftermath of a thunderstorm. 

“Well, I suppose that makes me your lover,” you simpered right back at him, turning your head slightly so you could stand on your tiptoes and kiss him.

It felt almost like a dream when you were in Vox’s arms like this. Simply existing with each other, standing above the Pride Ring as if you ruled the entire Sinner’s Circle. Untouchable, ambitious, and madly in love. 

As if on cue, the sound of a gentle, reflective saxophone poured from the speakers installed within the penthouse as the lights dimmed, and you felt yourself drifting away as you swayed with your husband.  

The soft buzz of electricity bounced against your figure as Vox stared down at you, his dead, automated heart pounding erratically as his hands slid from yours down to your waist, digging into the fabric of your robe with sharpened claws. 

“Vox...?” 

“Yes, my dear?” 

With a deep breath, you lilted your voice as you spoke to him, in hopes that seeming more placating and docile could shake Vox’s stance upon his insistence to work himself to the bone. No more would you allow yourself to stand hopelessly to the side while you watched your husband work himself into such a distressed, sleep-deprived state. 

“I’m putting my foot down. You’re not going back to that horrible place for the next week, at least.” Vox stiffened at your tone of finality. 

“Excuse me?” He chuckled as if you were joking with him, but your resolute glare told him otherwise. “Check your phone.” 

With a hesitant glance towards his pocket, Vox slowly pulled out his phone, only to find that, in fact, every work-related app had been temporarily blocked from the device. 

Raising an eyebrow, he looked back at you and tapped your nose with a haughty smirk. “Nice try, but it’s going to take more than that for me to fall for your wiles, my dear,”  

When you only grinned up at him with no hint of malice nor any trace of exasperation tugging at your usual, beautiful smile, his triumphant grin fell. “Why are you looking at me like that? What...” 

 A slow realization turned in Vox's mind as he recollected the last few days, when you were poking and prodding at him and his programming for “no apparent reason,” and he wrote it off as curiosity born from your boredom while being locked up at the penthouse apartment. 

But by fuck, he was really regretting indulging you right now, for once. 

With a surge of panic, Vox immediately blue-screened, as he mentally checked for any of his work-related tabs and files, only to find them completely, and suspiciously empty. 

No notes. No texts. No documents. 

Nothing. 

You... You fucking hacked into his mainframe!? 

His interface returned to normal to find you slumped against him, only perking up when you saw your husband had returned from his frenzied search of the crime that had been committed; the heinous act of keeping Vox from working.

And here the culprit was standing, swooning and relaxing in his hold, nuzzling against him as if she wasn’t to blame for his entire workspace vanishing off the face of the Earth for the next seven days.

“Well...?” 

“...How long have you been planning this?” Vox was absolutely aghast. He knew you could be impulsive, perhaps even irrational, compared to your cool, collected husband, but this was... 

You grinned triumphantly as you tapped his nose right back. 

“I just thought you could use a few days off, spending some time in your wife's company for Valentine's Day~..."

“But when did you- No, how the hell-?” 

“It seems that you’ve fallen victim to my wiles yet again,” 

“Oho, you sneaky little-!” Vox practically tackled you into a hug as he discharged a small bout of electricity, tickling you with an electrifying warmth, just by holding you against him. 

“C’mon, I’ve got another surprise for you,” with a soft giggle and a gentle tug of his antenna, you pulled Vox from the floor as his free hand shot up to his hat with a small, bashful frown. 

“I told you to stop that!” He outwardly groaned, but you could hear the flustered electrical buzz that Vox emitted whenever you did something to him that he really liked.  

“You know I don’t like it,” he muttered, but as always, you saw right through him. 

“And we both know that’s one of the biggest lies you’ve ever told me,” you grinned back at him cheekily as you pulled him into the living area, where you had spent most of your afternoon setting up when Vox was occupied with his work. 

In the living room, you had set up a small, cozy gaming area. It then hit Vox just how long you had been setting this up, waiting for him to drop his guard and into your scheming hands.

That little criminal...

Two controllers, one for you, and one for Vox, sat upon a pile of fluffy blankets. A few pillows draped in silk cloth surrounded the area on the couch, and before it upon the coffee table, there sat a freshly made bowl of popcorn, and various other chocolate candies and snacks.

“Hm... Seems like someone’s been itching for a rematch.” A challenge glinted in his sensors, and you leaned into him with an equally blazing ire.

"You wanna bet...?"

. . .

“GODDAMN FUCKING BLUE SHELL! I’LL DESTROY YOU, YOU SPIKED SON OF A BITCH!”  

“HA-HA! GUESS WHO’S IN THE LEAD, NOW!?”  

Your fingers pressed the controller furiously as the TV blared in front of you, and as you crossed the finish line, you let out a whoop of victory, nearly falling out of Vox’s lap in your bout of triumph. 

“Yes!” “No!! Fuck!”  

You and Vox shouted simultaneously, making you burst into a fit of triumphant laughter as he groaned and slumped defeatedly behind you. 

“Are you serious!? That’s the fifth time in a row!” Vox nearly crushed his controller in his vice grip as he threw a slew of curses at the TV.  

The two of you had been playing Mario Kart for the past hour, blissfully unaware of how your gaming match had whisked the both of you into a heated competition of bumper cars and tallying points for each round someone won, and the winner would be picking the movie you watched.

You stuck your tongue out at him with a victorious beam. “It seems the Nintendo wants us to watch the Kissing Booth tonight,” you giggled madly when Vox’s face scrunched up in disgust.  

“Yeah, babe, there is no way I’m watching that.” 

“Aw, come on, I won fair and square!" you leaned into your husband, who sighed with exasperation but softened at the sight of your pout. 

“Please...? I promise we’ll watch whatever you want tomorrow!” 

“It’s my first day off the job, and you want to watch the goddamn Kissing Booth!?” 

"Pretty please, Sparks?" Vox’s aura buzzed softly at the nickname, and he narrowed his eyes down at you as you begged him with your puppy eyes.

“Playing dirty, huh? Fine. Let’s watch your dumbass movie,” Vox pouted with crossed arms as he slumped into the couch in defeat and his antenna buzzed softly in annoyance. It sparked abruptly when you clapped excitedly and pulled him by his collar to lay a tender kiss on his cheek.  

“Thank you! I promise, you’ll love it,” you grinned mischievously and grabbed the remote. 

Vox, in fact, did not love it. In fact, it was so bad that you both started watching it ironically and threw jabs at it occasionally.   

“So, who do you think she should pick? Her psycho-controlling best friend, or the pretty boy with anger issues~,” You leaned your head against his shoulder as you shoveled a handful of popcorn into your mouth, your eyes glued to the screen. 

Vox sighed and rubbed his forehead, equally as invested as you were despite your shared frustration with the film.  

“Honestly? She should dump both of them and run for the goddamn hills.”  

You snorted. “Yeah? Well, I would’ve chosen her boyfriend. He gets better over the next couple of movies.” Vox raised an eyebrow at you. “Seriously?”  

Popping a few M&Ms into your mouth, you nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m serious! He gets some serious character development,” you mutter sarcastically, before licking your lips with a shit-eating grin. “He seems really cold and angry on the outside, but he’s not so bad once you get to know him.” 

Nudging his shoulder, you glance not-so-subtly up at him, and Vox took the hint, tickling your sides softly with a smirk. 

“And I’m a dork?” 

“Yeah, and you’re a contagious one, too!” Your hands grabbed at his arms as he crushed you into a hug, pulling you even closer as he rested his head upon yours. 

“Well, then I guess that makes two of us, doesn’t it my dear~?”  

“No! Stop! Please, I can't breathe!” You attempted to flail around dramatically, but within Vox's vice grip, that was next to impossible. 

“Ah-ah-ah! I’m afraid you’re trapped within my wiles, darling!” 

“Curse you! How dare you use my own spells against me!” You giggled as he continued his bombardment of tickles and small, feathered kissing against your nape and the small back of your neck. 

Soon, your laughter died down and you both fell silent as you finished the rest of the movie.

While you slowly began to drift off into sleep in Vox's arms, spent from the day of preparing your apartment for your husband's arrival, he looked down at you with a tender half-smile.

I can't believe someone like you would even look at someone like me...

"Hey, babe-?" He whispered out into the dark, before huffing out a chuckle when he realized you were still asleep.

With a soft smile, and a tender patter of his heart, Vox scooped you up and whisked you away to your bedroom, where he silently dresses you up in a pair of pajamas, and tucked you into bed.

Ever so gently, Vox laid a few of the blankets over your form, dragging them and the silk pillows back from the couch to make his little sleeping beauty ever the more comfortable.

He looked upon you as you dozed the minutes away, blissfully oblivious to the war that raged inside of him. 

While Vox was impressed that you had managed to somehow hack into his mainframe and alter his actual mental programming, it really would take more than basic understanding – plus, you pulled it off unguarded. Now, of course, this spawned a new problem for him, but he’d deal with it in due time. Besides, it’d give him a proper excuse to slack off a little bit, with you. 

God, what was he thinking? The old Vox would’ve seen such a desire to goof around with some girl while the other two Vees went around wreaking havoc and partaking in whatever idiocy without Vox to keep them in check. 

But you weren’t just ‘some girl’ to him. 

And frankly, those two clowns could go fuck themselves. 

A part of Vox wanted to remain in your bed, for your sake, but there was work to be done, and Velvet no doubt was positively livid at the fact that he wasn’t answering any of her calls. 

So, with a newfound confidence in his advances, your husband bent over you, softly pinching your chin within his finely sharpened claws, and laying a few tender kisses trailing from your lips down to your nape. 

I wish I could do this to you when you’re awake... But that smile, fuck, I can’t even form sentences without fumbling when you look at me like all you want is to give me the world. 

You groaned and turned over within the sheets, scooching towards him with a soft furrow in your brow.

Vox kissed it away, before reluctantly pulling away from your side, standing at the door with a small, yearning smile.

“Til morning, my dear.” 

. . . 

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Happy Valentine's Day from our favorite crazy-ass TV demon!

I'm sorry I didn't get to post this yesterday, but I was feeling so unmotivated by the end of it, and I decided to rewrite most of this fluff fic, just to give you all a quality post.

I don't half-ass things, especially when it comes to writing, that's just why my fics take a while to post.

Anyways, thank you so much for reading, and comments are always appreciated!

. . . 

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @matrixbearer2024

#vox x reader #vox x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #valentine's day fluff #this man is a workaholic confirmed #yourdoorisunlocked #banner by cafekitsune #divider by cafekitsune

[walkawaytall]

I really wish there was more interest in how to handle ADHD other than just addressing the symptoms that affect the people around us.

Like, the best pharmaceutical treatment we have right now is stimulants, and I agree that being on stimulants 24 hours a day, 365 days a year is probably not good for your body. Hell, I’m on a less-than-ideal dose of my medication from a concentration perspective because the ideal dose had my resting heart rate sitting at a cool 115BPM. I know taking med holidays is important. I know all of this.

But because ADHD isn’t just an attention problem (or may not actually be an attention problem at all at its core), it sucks that the only time period medical professionals seem to be concerned about treating are the “important” times: the length of a school or workday. Forget the fact that ADHD affects executive function, forget the fact that people with ADHD often experience chronic and unending anxiety and/or depression as a result of the ADHD, forget that there are important times that have nothing to do with an 8-hour school or work day, forget the rejection sensitivity dysphoria, the sensory issues that make things like clothing, food, and group situations a nightmare to try to navigate, the household stuff that has to be taken care of outside of the 8-hour school or work day. It feels like none of that matters because it doesn’t affect a group of fifteen or more people.

On top of ADHD, I have been plagued with anxiety-related issues for the majority of my life. I likely have a form of OCD and I have a history with a restrictive eating disorder; both of those conditions are very closely associated with high levels of anxiety. I’ve been on anxiety medications before. I was first given an as-needed medication that took the edge off but also made everything feel a little fuzzy, like there was a pane of glass between me and the rest of the world; I was put on an SSRI that somehow made my OCD-related intrusive thoughts about 50x worse than usual and had me wondering at one point if I should be hospitalized; and I’m currently on buspirone, which is doing what it’s supposed to do without the side effects of the others thankfully. But nothing, and I mean nothing, has reduced my anxiety as much as my ADHD medication.

Two hours after my first stimulant dosage, I just suddenly didn’t feel on-edge any more. I estimate that being on ADHD medication has reduced my anxiety by about 70% (buspirone’s for the other 30%). I started taking it in the summer of 2020 and I remember, in 2021, when I saw my boss in person for the first time since lockdown, he remarked on how much more confident I seemed, how I was more likely to speak up in meetings, etc. And I was like…yeah, man, it’s a wonder what not feeling anxious every second of every day will do for someone.

ADHD affects so much more of my life than just attention and anxiety, too. I have sensory issues with mine, which is pretty common, and they make eating — an already sometimes-complicated task due to the ED history — difficult at times because, while I can eat foods that I don’t particularly like, if something is what I call “the bad texture”, I will gag no matter how hard I work to overcome it (believe me, I’ve tried). And my brain sometimes decides that foods that were previously fine are now “the bad texture” and they may or may not shift back to being okay eventually; I don’t know.

The sensory issues affect me socially. My therapist and I have recently come to the conclusion that I’m probably not actually an introvert, but if I’m around larger groups, that means noise and movement and probably being touched, and too much of that causes my brain to either freak out or shut down. I used to always say, “I love people, but when I’m done, I’m done.” And that was likely because the overstimulation was building and building in the background, and at a certain point, my brain would just be like, “We gotta get outta here.” I was Queen of Irish Goodbyes for a very long time because of this.

And the executive dysfunction affects…well..everything? Not just work, not just school (but also those because if my environment is chaotic, my brain feels chaotic, and it is difficult to maintain a non-chaotic environment if you keep getting stuck on order of operations when picking up a room).

I’m not saying that I want to be on longer-lasting stimulants or that I want to be on the higher dose that I know helps my concentration more, cardiovascular system by damned. What I’m saying is, I wish treatment research had been more holistic rather than just figuring out what would give teachers and managers an easier time despite what the person with ADHD might be dealing with as soon as their meds wear off.

Maybe current research is working on it; I don’t know. I just know that, the older I get, the more frustrated I am with my brain and the more apparent the deficiencies I used to be able to counteract with pre-chronic-illness energy and crushing perfectionism become, and I wish there was an answer to this that actually helped me most of the time rather than forcing me to pick which parts of my day/week is “important” and making sure I’m medicated for those parts.

#adhd #adult adhd #adhd combined #adhd problems #actually adhd #adhd treatment

[demonicbaby666]

Can i pls request, Reader and JJ are arguing, Reader confesses her feelings in the heat of the moment, and JJ kisses her. (Jennifer Jareau x reader)

Flirt

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff and bit of angst

Words: 4k+

Warnings: swearing and that’s about it

Summary: You and Emily flirt. It’s never amounted to anything and you’re more than happy about that because it’s all fun and games. Though everyone on the team seems to enjoy the laughs that come from all the interactions the two of you share, one person has never seemed that amused. JJ.

A/n: I’m not sure if this is the vibe you wanted but I hope you enjoy nevertheless! <3

It’s standard, expected even. Friends flirt, and it’s an unspoken agreement, but very much known, it’s all fun and games. The fact that Morgan and Garcia had subjected the whole department to a workplace seminar on appropriate work etiquette - chocolate thunder is not nearly heard as much these days - made you feel a hell of a lot better about the one-liners you and Emily throw at each other on a daily/hourly basis.

The work-wives dynamic you have going isn’t just fun. In truth, it makes workdays easier. The heavy loads brought on by cases take their toll on everyone, and, it’s fair to say, a laugh never hurts. No one on the team minds, well, almost everyone. Hotch, Morgan, Rossi and even Spencer all laugh along, encouraging nicknames, adopting them at times, but not JJ.

She’s never outwardly said anything. Then again, she never needs to. It doesn’t go unnoticed that she never laughs, smiles, or gets involved in the flirtatious banter you and Emily have. At first, it was easy to push aside and ignore, but after around four months of cheeky remarks from Emily and yourself and six months of working with the team, it’s hard not to pick up on the less-than-subtle eye rolls and disdain.

When the two of you are alone, it’s okay. It’s nice. You’ll joke, and now and then, she’ll throw around a particular comment that’ll make you blush, and it’s something you do in return. It remains a rarity, though. And you’re glad for it. Not because you don’t like JJ in that way. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. When JJ compliments you, you feel it all over your body, and you’re sure she sees it. It’s not nothing, and that’s dangerous in a place where workplace relationships are more of a no-no than a yes-yes.

In the office, no matter how hard you try to avoid her, you always bump into her, sometimes quite literally. The coffee you spilt on her white shirt you can still smell. It’s a fond memory, which is unexpected, but that’s only because the moment JJ looked at you, her lips curled up at the sides, and you’d both burst into fits of laughter before she asked to borrow a top from your go bag, a top you’d yet to get back, you never ask though.

JJ mainly keeps to her office, buried in mountains of paperwork. The few times she ventures out to talk to Hotch or visit Garcia, and you happen to run into her, it usually results in you stammering and sounding like a complete idiot, your words running away from you. It’s astonishing how easy it comes to you with Emily and with JJ, nothing. How it is you have blossoming feelings for JJ and can barely function and would sooner hit Emily over the head with a frying pan than kiss her - though you know she certainly wouldn’t disappoint - and can charm her to your wit's end, you don’t know. You know for sure that it’s inconceivably and utterly torturous.

“Hey, short stack,” Emily calls out when you're in her eye line. She’s carrying what is probably, her third coffee of the morning, if not her fourth or fifth, judging by the pep in her step at 9 am. She drifts towards your desk, wafting memories of laughter through rising steam.

“Where’s mine?” You nod to the mug in her hand and try to avoid yawning.

It’s a joke, and maybe it’s the early morning, or the caffeine has fried her brain, but Emily doesn't register that. She looks down at her coffee, back at you, repeats the process another two times, and then unceremoniously shoves the piping hot brown beverage at you. It spills over the rim, she hisses, and you chuckle. Compassion doesn’t come easy when you’re uncaffeinated and sleep deprived.

“Nuh-uh. That has enough sweetener in it to kill a small child.”

“Good thing you only act like a child then,” she playfully jabs, still holding out the coffee. It’s a generous offer, spur of the moment offer, but generous nonetheless.

Alas, you decline. Dropping your bags and shaking your head from side to side, you let out an amused sigh, “I’ll make my own love.”

The coffee machine isn’t far, and it’s non-negligible that you’re in dire need of caffeine, so you start walking over, assuming Emily is following close behind as usual. “Do we have a case?” you don’t bother turning, knowing she’ll be craning over your shoulder any second.

“Yup.” It’s not Emily, though, “I’ll be coming with you guys on this one.”

Turning slowly, you smile at JJ. With her sudden presence still registering, you don’t even want to think about how forced your smile may appear, even if it is genuine, “It’ll be good to have you around.”

She steps closer to grab a stirrer, and you ignore the tension working its way down your spine.

“It'll be nice to be around.” she smiles, and your knees go weak. There's something about her smile. Big, small, soft, forced, it’s never mattered. Every time your legs become jelly, and your heart beats faster.

It's a mystery how she has this much effect on you after six months. It's like the whole world goes hazy. All that matters is JJ, then before you know it, words aren't wording, and you're not, well, you-ing.

You’re saved by Hotch catching your eye as he darts from his office to the briefing room. He waves a file, and the team makes their way over. You try not to stare at JJ walking in front of you. Her hair’s swaying, and if you don't avert your gaze, she's sure to turn around and catch you. There's a little voice inside you. It's telling you not to look away because if she does turn around, you'll see those eyes again, and your tummy will do that weird flippy thing that you'd only ever admit to yourself you've grown to love.

Pull yourself together! You scream to the insipid voice in your head.

You manage to look away. Appreciate the clarity of not being lovesick for two seconds before Emily swoops in, loops her arm through yours and forcibly skips you both into the room. It gets a chuckle from the team, and you glance at JJ to see she’s already got her head down, looking through the case file. She shuffles in her chair, you can only assume sensing your leering eyes, and without raising her head, she looks at you through her lashes.

There's nothing remarkable about how she looks at you; it’s rather ordinary, which motivates you to sigh and slump down on the nearest seat available. Everyone grabs a case file, and you spend that time contemplating who’s feeling more deflated, you or the indented cushion beneath you that is teetering on the brink of death.

It takes a particular type of subtly and poise to mask your rising self-pity, the likes of which you can only hope you possess. Around the table, everyone is listening to JJ, and you ought to do the same. It’s choosing the lesser of two evils, you either focus on what JJ is saying and risk looking like you’ve just been gut punched, or stare blankly into the space between JJ and the projector and come off as a well-rounded put together human.

The latter worms its way on top, the main victory point being that it’ll result in fewer questions asked. Through the garbling, a few words make sense, it’s enough to piece together, and you’re sure time on the jet will equip you with all you need to know.

“Wheels up in twenty.” That, you register.

You’re standing, then you’re walking, then you’re in an SUV, and someone’s talking next to you or, rather, at you. It’s hard to mind, though. Emily makes good background noise, and she seems to drown out the looming thoughts, leaving you to the blur of people and buildings passing by.

Footsteps soon reach your ears. Rossi’s perfectly polished shoes smack against concrete, then metal, as he ascends the stairs to the jet. You know you should get out; your legs, however, ignore this. Emily pulls the keys out and opens her door. Any second, she’ll pick up on your hesitance, and it’s game over. For the duration of the next two days, knowing her, she’ll be on the lookout for any suspicious activity regarding your behaviour if you don’t start moving.

So you move.

Following Emily, the hairs on your neck tingle, and a shiver runs down your spine, despite the warm spring breeze. The signs point to someone looking at you. Turning, you see JJ and Reid walking behind you, neither looking anywhere in your vicinity. JJ seems suspiciously interested in the jet's exterior. Nothing to call home about, though. In her defence, whenever anyone speaks to Reid, they find it hard not to let their mind wander, no matter how hard they are listening.

Nothing outside of the usual occurs when you get on the jet. You sit across from Emily as she slumps down on the first seat available by the front of the plane. It's not that you don't contemplate sitting anywhere else. Who are you kidding? It's not like you don't consider sitting next to JJ, but with all the awkwardness - self-perceived or very much real - you can't stomach the thought of infringing on her and precipitating another chance for you to make an idiot of yourself.

Chancing a look back at JJ, there's the faintest slither of disappointment that comes with watching her haphazardly throw her bag on the chair next to her. It’s unlike JJ to be so indirectly direct in deterring physical closeness.

It’s twenty minutes into the flight, and you and Emily are at it again. In both of your defences’, it wasn’t unsolicited. On the stand, you’d confidently plead you were rabbit holed into discussing how many times you’d had to pretend to act like a couple to deter leering men away, and on top of that, describe, in detail, how you’d mastered the fine art of always getting away with it. Apparently, small talk isn't a thing anymore.

It's been ten minutes of this, and you need to relieve yourself before the next onslaught of laughter results in a change of trousers. You nudge Emily, let her know you'll be right back and turn to head to the back of the jet.

It seems the new norm; whenever an opportunity to glance at JJ’s appears, you take it. Maybe it’s that you’re only just picking up on the habit, something to think about for the duration of the flight, perhaps.

JJ has scarcely moved, one knee up, head turned, eyes out the window. The bag remains unscathed, sitting idly and just as lonesome as the blonde. It's out of respect, for the booming thoughts going through JJ’s head and the physical presence of an ‘I don’t want company’ sign, you stay on your path. However, when you return, her bag is gone, her knee is down, and her attention draws to the direction of the toilet door closing.

The empty seat is beckoning you, calling to you, and though you have enough willpower to return to your own and pretend you haven’t seen anything, laugh about stupid late drunken nights, you choose to save the willpower for a rainy day and sit next to JJ instead.

“Hey,” it’s light, friendly and casual. Smashed it.

Blonde hair, partially bathed in unfiltered sunlight, glides over toned shoulders, and your stomach lurches. “Hey there,” she says. There’s a smile present that’s timid and, for some reason, making you feel a little uneasy because usually, JJ’s smile reaches her eyes, and this one doesn't. The blue orbs are illuminated only by the balmy glow slithering in through the window, and though they’re still as breathtaking as ever, there’s a sadness in acknowledging what’s not there that you can’t seem to shake. “You okay?”

A few seconds, a full minute? You don’t know how long you’ve been staring.

“Uhhh… ya, sorry,” you stammer over your words. There’s a curious look in her eyes, and her eyebrows knit together, “Tired, that’s all. I must have zoned out a little.”

The fingers lying over her knee twitch, and she inches forwards. There’s a split-second thought that maybe she’ll let them run their wanted course, seeking to provide some comfort by brushing over your arm or leg. They remain in her lap.

She’s touring your face, and it's hard to stay impassive when you’re starting to feel more self-conscious than a preschooler entering the lunch hall for the first time. There may as well be turbulence because your body is acting accordingly. You fidget. The paws of your fingers rub over the lines of your palms.

“Are you sleeping?” She’s settled on staring into the dark expanse of your under-eye circles that are half-hidden under shitty concealer.

The worry in her eyes that continuously search your face for an answer to her question is starting to drive you mad. You shrug and turn, relieved that the sinking in your stomach is less vomit-inducing, “Not really, but I manage,” you mutter, eyes wandering over the coffee pot and idle mug.

Whether she believes you is up for debate. A cold chill runs down your arms, and you can tell she’s still staring. A weight suddenly falls on your thigh. With enough speed to snap your neck, you turn.

It’s on fire. You’re sure that your thigh is about to burst into flames, along with your scorching cheeks. No. Your whole body is on fire because JJ’s smiling at you again, and her eyes have stopped searching for evidence of lack of sleep, and they are brighter, gentler and more compassionate.

“This is prime napping time,” she says suggestively.

“Tempting.” you chuckle, or more accurately choke out, shaking your head and paying attention to her hand now moving in circles. Yes. You’re sure. You are on fire. Scorching burning molten lava is slowly replacing the blood coursing through your veins, and you’re going to die on this plane.

Your eyes aren’t the only pair on JJ’s hand placement. As you lift your gaze, JJ’s flickers up too a moment later. Her smile hasn’t faltered. In fact, it may have even grown wider. But you aren’t sure because, at this point, you’re convinced this is all a hallucination.

Finally, she removes her hand to tap her shoulder, “I’m pretty comfy, you know.”

It’s baiting a child with candy, and it’s working. “Well…” you lower your head to the side, and you rest it on JJ’s shoulder, smiling at how easily and perfectly you fit together, “I’ll test that theory out and get back to you.” The end of the sentence is partially yawned out, sleep already weighing heavy on your eyelids.

Sleep hasn't come easy to you over the last week, and it’s a curious thing to ponder upon that JJ is the answer, yet, also part of the problem. Plaguing your mind with her incomparable beauty and so forth. For now, you were too delirious from waking up from the best nap you’d had in… forever…

It isn't hard to admit that JJ was right, she’s inexplicably comfy, more comfortable than your bed, but the brain fog that accompanies your light sensitivity, forcing your eyes closed again, has rendered you incapable of communicating that intelligently.

“I wish I could sleep on you every night.” you sleepily slur, nodding right back off to sleep.

It’s two seconds for you and twenty-three minutes for everyone else. You wake up, jolting your body upright. The words you’d said are still fresh on your lips.

“I-” turning to JJ, dread starts to set in. She’s got the most shit-eating grin on her face that she’s trying to cover with the palm of her hand, and if you weren’t morbidly embarrassed, you might have considered punching her.

She’s snickering now, her hands thrown up in mock surrender. “Theory proven.”

If looks could kill, she’d be stone-cold by now. The worst part is none of this is necessarily her fault, and you know it. She only tugged at a loose string you easily guided her to. Yes, it was pointed out to her in a state of delirium, but that is on your head.

“Bedhead,” JJ coughs, the sun hitting the side of her face angelically.

Pursing your lips and keeping your accusatory gaze fixated on her, you comb your finger through your hair. “Now you're just trying to get a rise out of me,” you grumble.

“Pfff,” she rolls her eyes, smirks, then looks at the papers scattered across the table, “You’re cute when you’re sleeping. Drool and all.”

She’s so fucking smug that part of you dies as a wicked, treacherous girly smile forces the sides of your lips to twitch. “I'm leaving now.”

You drop down across from Emily. She looks at you with an eyebrow raised, then at Reid and Morgan, thinking they might have some insight.

“I need a new mattress,” you huff before looking out the window for the rest of the fight, leaving Emily more confused than when you’d first sat down.

~~~

“Emily, you already know who you’re with,” Hotch smirks, “You both head to the crime scene.”

“God forbid they’re separated,” Rossi lightheartedly quips.

“Oh god,” Morgan sighs, a second too late to warn you.

Emily’s behind you. Her fingers come to your shoulder and dig in almost painfully, “My precious,” she says with her best Gollum impression, then hisses because you’ve delivered a swift elbow to her rips.

She relaxes her grip on you, and while everyone laughs at the idiocy displayed, you mockingly pout at her, “Want me to kiss it better?”

She smirks, “Save it for later,” she slaps your arm and starts walking towards the car, “Come on, let’s get going.”

From the passenger seat window, you see the team, and it’s the same old. Everyone’s dispersing, still smiling and relishing in the small break they got from the morbidity of the job, even if it was only for a minute, except, of course, one person. She’s looking off distantly again, fingers thrumming against her thigh, bottom lip between her teeth, and mindlessly nodding at something Hotch says.

Emily hits the gas, JJ becomes a moving blur, and then she’s gone.

About an hour later, you and Emily are walking into the precinct. Everyone’s heads turn as you both walk in, bickering.

“What's happened now?” Reid asks.

You shove your finger in Emily's direction, “She wouldn't let me drive.”

“Because you're a maniac behind the wheel,” Emily tries to reason.

“And you’re a spoilsport,” you grumble, sitting on a free seat between JJ and Morgan.

“I swear, sometimes you're like an old married couple, the two of you,” Garcia remarks over the phone and nods scatter around the room.

“Excuse me,” JJ stands up and leaves abruptly.

There’s a split-second choice to make, compliantly sit back, as you’ve been doing for weeks, or get up and find out what’s going on with JJ.

It takes looking at the team's faces to realise that if you don’t go, someone else will. Maybe it’s selfish. You know you’re probably not the person she wants to see, and deep down, you know she’s angry, and she’ll lash out. But maybe she’ll reveal the truth despite her rage, and that’s motivation enough to get up and chase after her.

“JJ! Wait up!” You call after her, picking up a light jog, your laden footsteps echoing in the small corridor.

She turns a corner and slips out a side door, likely under the assumption you don’t see her. When you open the door, a small side alley comes into view, and then you notice JJ with her back resting against a wall. She looks utterly defeated, but there’s a resting fire there that you see when she looks up at you.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You walk towards her.

Wearing that distant look again, she says, “It’s the case,” it’s so painfully obvious it’s a lie you can’t stop your brow from rising. She notices and rolls her eyes, “What?”

“Oh, come on, JJ. We both know it’s not the case,” you lean against the wall, turning to the side to look at her. She peers out into the alleyway, “You’ve been acting off all week.”

“We don’t have time for this,” she huffs, pushing herself off the wall. She’s probably right, but there’s no point in either of you going back inside when there’s a big chance your minds will dwell on this interaction.

You reach out and wrap your hand around her wrist, “JJ, talk to me.”

“Will you just drop it!” She yells, yanking her arm away.

“What's your problem?!” you’re sure people can hear you from inside, but the heat is rising within you, and JJ’s bringing it out more and more with her pointed glare.

“What the hell is your problem?!” She sneers.

“Really, JJ?”

“Yes.” she crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows expectantly, enough to push you over the tipping point.

“You know what,” you start, stepping forward, “You are! You’re my problem, JJ.”

“Oh.” She drops her arms down, and there’s a flash of hurt flickering over her features that’s not quite settling but not entirely leaving either.

You let out a heavy breath, “That’s not-”

“Forget it.” she steps away, and it’s infuriating because you’re being stripped of the opportunity to explain, and even if you don’t know what you’re going to say, she’s not giving a chance to think.

And now It’s late to stop yourself, the words are coming out without your consent, and there’s nothing left for you to do, “I like you!” you blurt out.

JJ turns on her heels. Her mouth is hanging open, “What?”

“I like you,” you say, this time a little quieter.

It’s a shock that she’s surprised, given that you have been under the impression you’ve been indisputably evident with your affections towards her.

“Honestly, I thought it was obvious.” You channel your inner voice, it’s small and meek, and you’re not pleased with the fragility of your voice, so you lower your gaze to your feet. A small rock takes your interest whilst you wait for the inevitable sound of JJ’s footsteps fading away.

Instead, they grow louder until the small rock is joined by a pair of black boots and a finger presses to your chin, forcing your head up. Then she kisses you.

It’s light, her lips brushing languishingly against yours, willing you to match their slow rhythm. It takes a few seconds, and you’re back in your body. You part your lips, letting the warmth of JJ engulf you. The kiss is slow and passionate. JJ moves her hands to your waist, pulling you closer against her and a sudden hunger grows low in your stomach, promoting you to nibble at her lower lip.

Your hands are on her shoulders, and she’s moving forward where there’s nowhere to go. You’re only aware you’re moving when you feel the cold surface of brick hitting your back.

A groan tumbles from your mouth, and JJ takes the opportunity to plunge her tongue in. It’s all teeth and tongues from there. You’re both panting and taking in gulps of air where you can, yet still refusing to unfurl yourselves from one another.

Eventually, the need for oxygen mounts to an all-time high, and you pull back, resting your head against the wall as JJ peppers kisses along your jawline.

“How did you not see?” you say between soft moans.

“I’m not a profiler,” JJ mumbles into your neck. She lifts her head, and you see her eyes are shimmering with humour.

“You’re also not blind.” you smugly point out.

“Neither are you.” She smirks.

A few seconds are spent simply smiling sweetly and dotingly at one another, eyes darting to and from eyes to lips. Then you’re kissing again, and the alleyway and the world seem to fade away, leaving only you and JJ.

Tags: @aws-l @babygirlscout @red1culous @7thavenger @sapphicprentiss @five-bi-five-mind @auggiewrites @12fluffybunny12 @asensitivecookie @summoned-lust-demon @maxinehufflepuffprincess | click here to be added to my taglist

#jennifer jareau x you #jennifer jareau x reader #Jennifer Jareau #jennifer jj jareau #Jennifer Jareau fluff #Jennifer Jareau angst #criminal minds

[misshoneybee]

˖  ࣪ 𖥔 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐇 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𖥔 ࣪ ˖

— ℳ𝒾𝓈𝓈ℋ𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓎ℬ𝑒𝑒'𝓈 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 —

Pairing: Daddy!Andy Barber x Nanny!Reader Content Warnings: Daddy kink, ddlg undertones, somnophilia, dubious/non consent, age gap (Reader is early twenties, Andy is mid-forties), fingering, oral sex (f-rec), dirty talk, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby), overstimulation, general smut bc this is kinktober so minors, dni!! Word Count: 4.7k  A/N: Here we are!!! This is my first Kinktober and I am nervous to write all these new kinks and characterizations but also incredibly excited. I'm so sorry that this was so delayed, my loves! Work has been hell for the past week but I've finally had time to proofread this. As always, I do my best to keep my reader as inclusive as possible but please let me know if there's anything I can do to improve upon it! There's no use of Y/N or anything else where you need to insert information to read just because that's my personal preference! Anyway, please enjoy and I'd adore some feedback, if anyone feels so inclined! Navigation: Masterpost | Playlist | Divider Credit | Kinktober Masterpost | October Fifteenth Summary: Working as the Barber family's nanny is a piece of cake, but what happens when the dad you've been tip-toeing around all year comes home late one night to find you asleep in his bed, wearing his favorite sweater?

Although, you couldn’t exactly say that you loved your job, the accommodations and compensation made what little aggravation you faced in the course of a workday well worth it. While most students from your college town had picked up odd jobs in busy restaurants or quaint little shops, you’d become a live-in nanny for the Barber family. It was a perfect situation really—your tuition was covered by scholarships, you only worked in the afternoons and evenings, you didn’t have to pay for housing, the ‘work’ was a piece of cake, and your employer was the hottest man you'd ever fucking seen.

Jacob was a pretty quiet kid—and maybe a bit too old to have a nanny, at the age of thirteen—so you were essentially just paid to ensure he didn’t sneak out of the house and ate a somewhat balanced dinner on the nights that his dad got home late from work or other engagements. The family unit was small with only Jacob and his father and, now by extension, you. 

District Attorney Andy Barber had quietly left his wife a year earlier and moved he and his son away from their small hometown to start over just as you’d arrived in the city to begin your third year of school. You’d met in the aisles of a dark liquor store as you stood in front of the vast selection of wine, teeth digging into your lower lip as your eyes scanned all the labels on the red varietals: merlot, cabernet sauvignon, Malbec, pinot noir, Sangiovese. 

Seeing your hesitation at making a selection, he’d easily swooped in and found you something sweet, saying it reminded him of you with a charming grin. It was an unassuming bottle with a minimalistic label—a vin santo that flooded your tongue with a sweetness that reminded you of warm summer days and cherry jam. It was perfect—and that was where it all began.

You’d crossed paths in your small college town several more times and now, more than a year later, you’d settled into the Barber’s lives seamlessly. The big colonial house, tucked away in the gated neighborhood, was quiet as the clock approached one in the morning. Andy had needed to attend some gala, to rub shoulders and grease palms and do all other sorts of lawyerly things, so after dinner, you had taken it upon yourself to clean up around the house after Jacob had gone to bed.

The kitchen had been cleaned from dinner you’d made, the dishes had been washed and put away, and you’d finished the laundry. All of the linens had been tucked away in the hall closet but you found yourself hesitating at the door of Andy’s empty bedroom as sleepiness began to sink into your bones. There were just a few shirts that needed to be hung in his closet. You rocked back and forth on your heels, deliberating silently as you propped the basket on your hip, looking up and down the silent, empty hall as if he’d appear and chastise you for even entertaining the idea. He’d never said his room was off-limits to you; in fact, Andy had always told you to make yourself at home. 

It would only be for a few minutes anyway.

Stifling a yawn, you quietly opened the heavy, wooden door and slipped into the dark room. Flipping the light-switch turned on a lamp, dimly bathing the unfamiliar space in a warm, comforting light. It looked just like you’d imagined it—not that you’d spent a long time picturing your employer’s room. 

No—never. 

Certainly not when he came down to the kitchen on Saturday mornings in worn flannel pajama pants and made coffee for the two of you to share in silence as Jacob slept in, and definitely not when you lay in your bed, in the room just next door to his, with your fingers slipping beneath the silky fabric of your panties as you remembered the feeling of his eyes on you from across the dinner table.

Feeling your face grow warm as you shoved those thoughts away, you quickly opened the door to his closet. It was as organized as you’d have thought it to be. The hangers and collars were all turned in a uniform direction, the shirts organized by shade and hue from dark to light. Humming softly to yourself, you finished the chore quickly before something on the foot of his pristinely made bed caught your eye. 

The fall air that had invaded the New England coast had brought a chill, and along with it, a shift in his wardrobe. It was a deep, forest green sweater of his that had silently become your favorite item in his closet. Cautiously, you picked up the article and bit your lip to stop a quiet sigh from escaping your lips. It was soft and you’d imagined yourself running your hands over his chest while he wore it dozens of times.

The clock on his bedside table read just after one; when Andy had left that afternoon, he’d mentioned that it would be close to two before he’d return home from Boston. You knew exactly what you wanted. Padding softly across the room, you closed the door with an almost silent ‘click’ of the latch. You couldn’t help it; you could feel your heart beating against your breastbone and the way your panties had grown damp at just the thought.

There was a bit of a thrill as you slipped out of your ratty collegiate sweatshirt and allowed it to fall on to the soft carpet without a sound, your short cheer shorts following suit. Bare to the cold room, you felt goosebumps prickle your skin and you weren’t sure if your nipples had grown hard from your admittedly overactive imagination, or the exposure. 

Slipping the woven cashmere over your head, you let out a soft sigh as the fabric caressed your skin and enveloped you in a scent that was purely Andy. It was something expensive; you’d seen the bottle on his bureau. A sweet, smoky wood scent that clung to his skin and the fibers of his clothes—fuck, you wanted to be covered in it. 

Crawling on to the king-sized bed that took up the center of his spacious room, you couldn’t help but giggle as you sank into the plush, white duvet that covered it. Your fingers and toes curled against the cotton, and, in the back of your mind, you knew you’d have to smooth it all out before you returned to your own room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment. 

All you could think about was Andy in this bed, his hand working his hardened cock as quiet groans strained from his throat. You knew he did it every night before he fell asleep. You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew that, just separated by a single wall, you listened carefully and covered your mouth, fucking yourself along with him. 

Allowing your eyes to drift shut, your fingers trailed down your body, rubbing the damp fabric that clung to the lips of your wet pussy, whimpering softly as you brushed against the hardened nub of your clit. God—you wished it was him. His fingers teasing your cunt, his tongue brushing over your nipple before grazing it with his teeth.

Clenching the duvet, that was covered in the musky, heavy scent of him, with white knuckles, it didn’t take long for you to reach the precipice. Biting your lip, almost painfully, you stifled a cry. The way your walls fluttered around your fingers, as your thighs clenched hard, and your toes curled into the soft sheets made you feel like you were flying. Writhing against the now too-warm bed, you felt that fuzzy, pleasurable feeling wash over you like the sun’s rays as you came back down. Touching yourself had never felt so good before—how could you go back to your normal nightly activities?

Slipping your hand from the sodden fabric, it was like your body was on autopilot. Your breathing slowed as your post-orgasm brain returned from the stratosphere. It wouldn’t hurt to close your eyes for just a minute. One minute, then you’d take off his too-soft sweater and get rid of any evidence that you’d even been here. One minute, then you’d go to your own room and lay down and go to sleep with your little secret.

Just one minute, then…

The lights were off in the silent house. Andy carefully allowed the heavy front door to close behind him, turning the deadbolt as he shut out the rest of the night. Running a hand over his scruff-covered chin, he let out an uninhibited yawn. The day had been long, the night even longer, and he longed for sleep. Leaving his briefcase in his office, and his rumpled jacket folded over his arm, he quietly padded up the stairs and down the hall.

With a gentle knock on Jacob’s door, and no answer in response, he quietly peered inside. A muss of brown hair rested on his pillow, barely visible under the plaid quilt that covered the bed. Jacob hadn’t snuck out since you’d taken on the task of nannying him, but Andy always liked to be certain, not quite trusting the little shit—and for good reason. Quietly closing the door, he continued down the hall before coming to rest in front of your room. He frowned, looking at the floor for that telltale strip of light that usually spilled from beneath the door and tattled to him that you were still awake, usually reading or listening to music or watching something on your laptop. 

You were a night owl, and it wasn’t even two in the morning; you never fell asleep this early unless you had an exam the next day and he knew that wasn’t the case. It was the weekend. He’d gotten to know your schedule intimately, getting a copy of your class and assignment schedule from you under the guise of staying in the loop. Truth be-told, he just wanted to know how your days went and where you were. Erring on the side of caution, he gently rapped a knuckle against your door, quietly murmuring your name just inches away from the wooden barrier, knowing you’d hear, if you were actually awake.

Met with silence, he felt a tug in his chest. He knew you weren’t the lightest sleeper; once when he’d apologized for doing lawn work on an early Saturday morning, you’d told him, with a sheepish blush, that you hadn’t even noticed the loud mower outside your window. Knocking once more, louder this time, he called your name with no response. Resting a hand on your doorknob, he hesitated. 

Though it was unspoken, he’d deemed your room off-limits…but what if you were hurt? Or sick? What if something had happened to you after Jacob went to bed? Talking himself out of walking away, he turned the cold, metal knob. The door opened silently and he hesitated before taking a step inside, his eyes searching the pitch black for your form. 

Adjusting to the dark, his eyes could make out the frilly pink sheets of your still-made bed. With a frown, he flicked on the light and took in the space that he’d only ever caught occasional glimpses of. Through the worry, there was a pique of intrigue. Everything was shades of pastel, a little stuffed bunny propped up against your pillow. It was all so innocent and girly. Sweet and saccharine, just like you.

A light on your nightstand got his attention; a lump in his throat, and the bulge in his tight slacks, grew as the shape registered. Nope, it wasn’t your phone. Fuck. A little vibrator rested on your bedside table, and he had to bite his lip to stifle a groan. He’d heard the quiet vibrations through your shared wall before but seeing the culprit and everything else was something new entirely.

He always knew you were girly, loving cute things and being just as sweet, but you— 

You were missing.

He didn’t have time to jerk off as he tried to remedy all of the new things he’d learned about your bedroom. Muttering a curse under his breath, he adjusted his rapidly hardening cock before taking a step back and taking a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he gathered himself. He had to get a fucking grip—he argued against murderers for a living, for Christ’s sake. Would your vibrator and sweet little bedroom really be his downfall?

Your car was still in the driveway—you weren’t in the living room and the den had been dark when he’d come in as well. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he quickly found you listed under his favorites and allowed it to dial. His brow furrowed when he heard a quiet sound from the next room over. In just three strides, he was in front of his room and with one more, he was inside as the phone call went to voicemail.

The lamp in the corner of his room illuminated the space, as well as your sleeping form that was sprawled over the center of his king-sized bed. A cocktail of relief and arousal flooded him at once. You were safe. You were home.

But you were also in his bed. And aside from his sweater, only wearing a pair of satin-y, baby pink panties that were molded perfectly to your ass which he could plainly see in the warm light that filled the room. You rested on your belly, fingers gripping his pillow beneath your head tight, with one leg hiked up the mattress as you snuggled into the plush bedding. Closing the door quietly behind him, his legs carried him over to the bed without a second thought. His eyes trailed over your relaxed body and affection almost made the corner of his lips tick upwards.

You looked so sweet, your eyes closed gently as your thick lashes brushed your soft cheek. That sweetness was cut when he noticed a damp patch on your panties and the way that soft sighs of sleepy pleasure slipped from your lips as you rocked your hips into the mattress, oblivious to your newfound audience as some dream played out behind your eyelids.

The aquamarine of his eyes caught fire as he watched you shift in your sleep. Draping his jacket over the armchair in the corner of his room, he stalked across the room, pausing as he landed beside the bed. Straight, white teeth digging into his lip, he held back a groan as you shifted, seeking out comfort as his sweater rode up to your waist, revealing more of you to his starving gaze. 

He could feel his cock throb at the sight of you and he was almost certain that no amount of deep breathing could resolve it. He needed you out of there before he blew a load in his pants like a fucking teenager. Tucking his length in to the waistband of his boxer-briefs, he carefully sat down beside you. The foam mattress didn’t move you in the slightest and he mumbled a curse under his breath before resting a hand on your thigh, giving you a gentle shake as he softly murmured, “Sweetheart?”

A little groan slipped through your lips, your eyes squeezing shut tighter as you held on to the clouds of sleep that still filled your head. Turning over, you mumbled something incomprehensible before your breathing leveled back out. 

Looking at his hand still resting on your smooth thigh, he resisted the urge to give the cushion of your skin a soft squeeze. Slowly trailing his eyes up your frame, his eyes darkened. Your nipples strained against the light knit material, begging to be pinched and laved. If you tempted him when you were awake, wandering the house in those tiny shorts and tight tops, watching you sleep was another circle of hell where he was condemned only to look but never to touch.

You two had danced around one another since you’d met at that liquor store. How could he know you wanted it as badly as he did?

“Princess,” Andy tried once more, his thumb brushing back and forth over your leg as he spoke at a normal volume, “Wake up for me, sweetheart.”

He watched the way your nose crinkled slightly in your sleep and a small smile spread across his lips. It was as if your subconscious was absorbing his words, blocking them from reaching your conscious mind and waking you up. As he gave your leg one more gentle shake, you let out a quiet, whiny groan consisting of one word, “Daddy…”

Andy couldn’t help the way his grip on you tightened at the two-syllable word, the little blood that was left in his head, rushing to his groin. Fuck—there was no mistaking that. He barely noticed the way his hand had drifted further up your leg; he needed to touch you more, to see all of you.

You’d just called him daddy.

He could be your daddy for tonight. 

Or, for as long as you’d allow him. 

Clearing his throat, he gave one last, half-hearted attempt at waking you, “Baby?”

“Daddy, please…” You breathed out, your fingers gripping the soft blankets as your dreams continued to roll like a film reel, unaware of the way that their subject’s hand had drifted up to your hip, toying with the elastic edge of the only barrier separating him from you. Your voice was so innocent as you whimpered out, “Need you, daddy…”

At that, it didn’t take long for Andy to slip down the bed, gently parting your already spread legs further, leaving enough space for him to lay between them. With a tentative hand, he brushed his thumb over the wet spot that had darkened the light fabric of your panties, begging for his attention. Your hips jerked as he dragged his finger down the cleft of your folds and a low chuckle gently shook the bed.

“Shh…” He shushed your soft whimper, watching as your brows drew together, seeking out the feeling again and rocking your hips upward. 

Fuck—he’d wanted this since he saw you standing in that dark store. You’d looked so sweet in your little, frilly pastel dress, your exposed décolletage shining with some body shimmer that smelled like vanilla, even from a foot away. That was you; always so sweet, so good.

Pressing a gentle kiss to the center of your covered, private area, feeling the dampness against his slightly parted lips, he hummed softly, reassuringly as his thumb continued to drift up and down that same spot tortuously, “I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.” 

You spent all your time doing things for everyone else: your family, your friends, him, his son—when was the last time that you’d been taken care of? When was the last time you’d let your walls down enough to even allow it?

In that blissful twilight of sleep, you were so soft, vulnerable and receptive to his care. You’d allow it, even if you didn’t know you were.

Holding his breath, trying to stay as silent and as still as possible, Andy gently rolled the lacy, elastic band down your legs as his eyes stayed trained on your face for any hint that you were coming around. Gently maneuvering your sleep-laden limbs, spreading your legs wider for him to fit between, you barely shifted as he draped your legs over his broad shoulders.

Running a finger down the bare, sensitive skin of your puffy slit, he groaned as he collected the proof of your arousal on the tip of his digit. “Oh, sweetheart…” Using his thumbs, he gently spread the petals of your sex and had to bite his lip to stifle himself from cursing at the sight. The low light glistened against the wetness that clung to your skin as your hips shifted and your brows pulled together, feeling the cold air brush against your exposed clit. He cooed, “You’re so wet, baby. This all for me? All for Daddy?”

“Mm…” You mumbled, your cheek pressed against the pillow as your hands drifted up your body, dragging the hem of his sweater up over your tummy slowly. You could feel the last glowing embers of sleep slowly dying, with each brush against your skin pushing you back towards the waking world but you were so comfortable. You were enrobed in Andy’s scent, that sweet smoke that made you feel like nothing bad could happen to you as long as it was near.

Andy’s thumb brushed against your swollen bundle of nerves and he let out a low, dark chuckle as your hips gave a sudden jerk at the direct stimulation. Not wanting to torture you—not yet at least—he traced circles around the bud, careful not to touch it directly again. After several moments, he carefully slipped one finger inside, finding no resistance if your state of need. Giving it a few, agonizingly slow, experimental pumps, he watched hungrily as his digit glistened with your wetness each time it slid out.

With his eyes trained on your blissful expression, he gently slipped in a second, longer finger beside the first and watched hungrily as your body adjusted to the new sensation, a soft whimper breaking through your parted lips at the stretch; his fingers were far larger than your own. 

“Daddy’s going to eat your sweet pussy, baby.” As his fingers hooked upwards gently, they pressed teasingly against the spongy pillow of your g-spot, your hips bucking forward again at the sudden pressure that made your squeeze around him. You were balancing on the precipice of wakefulness now, one foot still in that perfect dreamland and the other stepping towards the seemingly real, gentle brushes against your skin.

With a gentle kiss pressed to your hip bone, his tongue finally licked a broad, languid stripe through your folds from your entrance to the red button of your clit that continued to beg for his attention. “Fuck, you taste like candy…” Watching the way your tight hole clenched around nothing; he immediately imagined filling it with his cock, Andy groaned, “Sweetest little cunt I’ve ever had.”

Closing his eyes, he groaned as he leaned back down, using his tongue to lave over your sensitive skin; he needed to taste you. Sleep was slipping away, and you weren’t certain if it was a dream when your hands threaded through a head of hair that rested at the apex of your thighs. The grip of your fingers tightened almost painfully in his hair as his lips finally wrapped around you swollen clit, giving it a hard suck before letting it go. The scrape of your nails over his scalp mixed a quick lick of pain into his pleasure.

“Oh god—fuck!” You felt your body begin to shake as an orgasm barreled towards you, forcing your sleepy eyes to finally open.

“Watch your language, princess.” Andy’s eyes found yours open and he grinned wolfishly at the surprise and arousal that filled your expression, “Good girls don’t talk like that.”

The wet muscle dipped inside your channel, his nose nudging against your clit before he dragged his tongue slowly up again to the swollen nub. He traced the tip around it before sucking hard then soft and letting go and repeating the movement again and again. He could feel your body tensing as an orgasm quickly approached and he slipped his fingers back into your soaking cunt, your thighs quivering at the added feeling.

“Andy—ah!” A whine was pulled from your throat, silencing your sweetly confused question as you fell over the edge.  

He grinned against your skin at the shattered cry, sucking your clit just slightly harder than a moment earlier before gently scraping his teeth over it and making your thighs squeeze around his head. He murmured against your wet pussy, his voice sending vibrations through your body, “What’s my name, baby?”

Your mind was floating away and all you could concentrate on was his touch and the way he made you feel so little and taken care of as he played with you. Shaking your head, your sweet voice came out shakily, “I don’t—”

“I know I haven’t made you that stupid, baby.” His thumb circled your clit, tugging up on the hood of it and exposing the pearl to his greedy eyes before they flicked back up to yours as you leaned up on your elbows to watch him, “What’s my name?”

Capturing it between his lips, he sucked hard, and you felt the wetness dripping from your hole onto his duvet, “Daddy!” You finally cried out, failing to silence yourself as he dipped his tongue into your entrance, collapsing back onto the bed as he played you like a violin, feeding off your every reaction. “God! Oh—feels so good…Daddy, please!” There was a pout on your lips that contrasted with the way your hips rocked against his every touch, unsure if you wanted him closer or to stop the sensations that were becoming too much.

“You like when Daddy plays with your princess parts while you sleep? Yeah?” He let out another deep chuckle against your cunt as a little chirp was pulled from you at his naughty words. He continued lowly, “You know I had to when I found this beautiful little girl in my bed, cunt soaked and waiting for me to come home.” 

You moved your hips, chasing that pleasure with each changing angle. The sounds were almost depraved; every lick of his tongue and brush of his fingers forced a wet noise into the room that was mostly quiet aside from the constant melody of your breathy moans.

His hips rocked into the mattress, seeking out his own pleasure as you whimpered, “Fuck, that’s my good girl—wearing my sweater and those slutty, little panties. Gonna keep those, baby. Never getting them back.” Slipping two fingers back into your tight cunt, he pumped them as his mouth focused on your little pearl, “Now come for me again, sweetheart.”

“Can’t!” You cried out, your lip quivering as your second climax barreled towards you, and you shook your head, begging, “No! Too sensitive, daddy…”

“You wanna be sensitive?” He landed a smack to your overworked button with three fingers.

“No!” You whimpered, feeling tears well in your eyes, sniffling as the pleasure made your body shake. 

“Better make that sweet little pussy squeeze my fingers or Daddy’s gonna give you a lot more than this…” With dark eyes, he watched as the pleasure finally took hold once again, dragging you under.

“Daddy!” You whimpered as he pressed against your g-spot with two thick fingers, sucking your clit at the same time and shoving you over the edge. Your fingers tightened in his hair as you finally squealed, “Oh! I’m coming!”

You felt your walls flutter as he helped your body ride the crest of the wave of your second orgasm, licking you slowly as a new flood of wetness coated his tongue like a nectar that he never wanted to stop drinking. He could live and die between your thighs, happily.

Your toes curled as your thighs clenched around his head, it was almost as if you were trying to force Andy away when the stimulation became too much but he held your thighs open despite the pleasured cries that filled the. room.

“That’s it…Good girl, sweetheart.” He murmured, helping you come down from the edge that you’d been balancing on for far too long. Watching through half-hooded eyes, you hummed softly as he rubbed your still trembling thigh with one hand and cleaned the fingers of his other with his mouth, a sly smirk on his full lips.

“I…” You trailed off, your cheeks burning as you finally came back from that floaty place where your head had been since waking.

‘Holy shit.’

Covering your body with his, your eyes widened innocently before he caught your lips in a surprisingly soft kiss. He tasted like whiskey and you, and it felt like a drug that you’d easily become addicted to. Andy’s hand landing a smack on your ass made you jump, pulling away from the kiss that had lulled you into a false sense of security.

He chuckled as you let out a quiet whine at the sting his hand left behind, sitting back up and undoing his belt with dark eyes that were still focused on you, “Now get that little ass in the air. It’s time to let Daddy use this sweet little hole, princess.”

#andy barber #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader #andy barber x reader smut #chris evans character #chris evans character smut #kinktober #maddie writes spice #maddie writes #honeybeeskinktober2022 #kinktober 2022 #reposting this bc it won't show up in the tags :( #mine

[kingofbodyrolls]

Jimin fic recs 2023

In honor of Jimin’s birthday, I want to share my ultimate favorite Jimin fanfictions, that I’ve read this year 💜I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (💜) | Nov (*) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂

⭐In the Dark by @jksangelic // pjm x jjk x f.reader // f2l, threesome, pwp // 🥵😂

📝 “I can’t get a signal on my phone, the car is dead, and I’m fairly certain we are out of matches.” Jungkook and Jimin have a very short attention span, and when you three are lost in the middle of nowhere with a truck that won’t drive, they busy themselves with you.

🗨️  I was in the mood for a comfort fic (= one that I’d read before), with a threesome that was smutty as hell, and this is just that 🥵♥️ I just adore this so much, one of my all-time favorites 🌟

⭐Roomie by @jessikahathaway // pjm x f.reader // slice of life!au, roommates!au // 🥵😂

📝 After a disappointing slew of failed sexual escapades, you find yourself willing to do some crazy things. Falling for your roommate not included.

🗨️ Omg, this was fucking hot 🥵 💯

⭐Relax for Me by @jimilter // pjm x reader // established relationship, masseuse!jimin // 🥵🥰😂🌩️

📝 You came home from a tiring workday and your boyfriend offered to give you a massage to relax – which you didn’t think much of because Park Jimin is known to be selflessly kind while also being a pervert, the exact two behaviors a massage would exemplify. But maybe you should think more about how skilled his hands felt… almost extraordinarily skilled. Is your boyfriend hiding something from you?

🗨️ This is one of the very best written Jimins out there! I loved the smut so, so much and the surprise drama at the end (which I didn’t expect at all 😳). Just a really good and lovely read! Will read it again sometime 🥰

⭐Wait for Me by @jiminniethemarshmallow // pjm x f.reader // established relationship, pwp // 🥵

📝 This one doesn’t have a summary, but it’s about Jimin just wanting to fuck OC, but she has homework – it’s just really good pwp!

🗨️ This 🥵 OMG! If you value dirty talk, this one is definitely for you! ♥️ The smut was perfection and Jimin was just such a tease 😜💯

⭐Ribbons by @jamaisjoons // pjm x jjk x f.reader // threesome, established relationship, pwp // 🥵😂🥰

📝 Your boyfriend, jimin, arranges the best birthday present you could have ever asked for.

🗨️ Fuck, just what the fuck 🥵 I’m speechless. This was so incredibly sinful, like 😳🥵 I’m blushing 🫣💯

⭐Ain’t Real Cherry by @jimilter // pjm x reader (ft. Taehyung) // college!au, roommate!au // 🌩️🥵🥰😂

📝 Not to be too sickeningly romantic, but his wank bank needed a desperate overhaul if he was ever going to stop being pathetic. He was done envisioning his roommate in positions he would never actually get to see her in. And maybe, just maybe, this exercise would get him back in the game and he would actually be able to fuck people without your face in his head to push him over the edge, every single time. 

🗨️ I seriously don’t know why I haven’t found this freaking gem earlier! It is one of the very best reads I’ve had, EVER 🥰 Go read it, it you haven’t already!

⭐I want to be with you by @oddinary4bts // pjm x reader // idol!au + s2f2l (fan) // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 Moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he’s not the sweet angel you’ve always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?

🗨️ This was the first idol!au that I loved (and made me read the others). I adore this and I will read it again sometime 🥰

⭐Beneath the Water by @jungshookz // pjm x reader // fantasy!au + mermaid!au // 🌩️🥵🥰😂

📝 His legs were sparkling. You looked up from his face slowly and towards his legs, your head tilting in confusion when you were met with the sight of… well, it certainly wasn’t a pair of legs.

What the fuck?

🗨️ This is just perfect; a tiny bit angst, gold certified comedy and fluff (with a sprinkle of smut). There’s also a bullet point drabble of this, so please check that out too (here).

⭐Make Me by @jikookiekosmos // pjm x reader // office!au, boss!jimin/employee!reader + dom/sub themes // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 After a bad breakup, you decide to go out one night and drink your sorrows away - that is, until you see your now ex-boyfriend there with someone clinging to his arm. To get your mind off of things, you go back to your job after hours; what you don’t expect is for your boss and CEO of the company, Park Jimin, to show up and offer you help in ways you didn’t know you needed.

🗨️ It has heavy dom/sub themes (which I’m normally not into, but imma switch for this one!). It is incredibly hot and so, so damn perfect 🥵

⭐Pay Attention by @jikookiekosmos // pjm x reader // office!au, boss!jimin/employee!reader + dom/sub themes // 🥵🥰

📝 You’d mentioned it in passing once before, your fantasy about blowing your boss - and now boyfriend - under his desk during one of his important CEO business meetings. So what happens when you want to turn that fantasy into a reality, and he wants it just as much?

🗨️ This is a sequel to ‘Make Me’ (but can be read as a stand-alone) - and it is just pure dirty smut. The dynamic between reader and Jimin is just so good ✨

⭐Shake Shack by @kth1 // pjm x reader // s2l (though they went to the same high school) // 🥵🥰

📝 Crushing on a man ever since high school, you failed time and time again to actively talk to him. Until one sweaty summer day, you finally developed the courage to ask him out on a date.

🗨️ The story is so good, perfect amounts of sweet, a bit fluffy and then downright saucy!

⭐A Remedy for Mondays: pt2, pt3, pt4 [completed series] by @dovechim // pjm x f.reader // coworkers!au, office!au, s2c2l // 🥵🌩️🥰😂

📝 All you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

🗨️ This is one of the most hilarious plots I’ve read! 😂 It is so funny, with a good amount of angst, fluff and brilliant comedy 👏 This is really one of my all time favorites - if you have not read this one yet, please go read it, you won’t be disappointed! 💎

⭐100 km/hour by @chateautae  // pjm x f.reader // fuckboy!au, college!au, pwp // 🥵

📝 What exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?

🗨️ I was not at all prepared for the juicy smut in this 🥵 I really love the tension between reader and Jimin, and omfg the smut + tension 🤌🏾It is just brilliant 👏

⭐Vanilla by @aexthetic-suga // pjm x f.reader // pwp, dominate!Jimin, idol!au // 🥵

📝 Jimin is a busy guy. The idol life is not an easy one. With you missing him for three months due to his schedule, all you wanted was to spend his first night back with him. When that doesn’t go to plan, you end up spewing shit about your sex life with Jimin – or better yet, your lack of one.

🗨️ Excuse me, Park Jimin 🥵😳 this was incredible hot! And that gif! 🥵 A really great pwp 💯🌸

⭐Flirt by @chateautae // pjm x f.reader // college!au, sexual tension, pwp // 🥵

📝 Park jimin is a notorious flirt, but so are you. when you both meet at a party after weeks of back and forth, it’s a matter of time before somebody gives in.

🗨️ Okay, this is insanely hot - the smut 🤌🏾😘 a really fucking great pwp with a good amount of sexual tension and dirty talk 💜💯

I really wanted to write my own fic in honor of his birthday, but sadly I didn’t have the time for that (moving). But these fics are even greater than what I could write anyway, so I’m pleased 🙂 Borahae and happy birthday Jimin 💜 🥳 🎂 

#bts fic recs #bts fic #bts fics #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts x female reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts x reader smut #bangtan x you #bangtan x reader #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fic #jimin bts #park jimin #bts jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin fic #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts pjm #pjm smut #pjm x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #park jimin imagines

[aceyogurt]

Part-time romance

Pairing: Vox x GN reader

WC: 3k

A/n: PT ONE FINALLY UP WHOOOOOOOO…. This chapter is a lot of set up so no sexual tension yet sorry guys 😔, but I promise it’s still entertaining!

Nine years you’ve been in hell, and frankly compared to others, it wasn’t the worst. When you first fell you were smart enough to gain a good understanding of hell and its system before falling into the system of power and soul exchanges. While the idea of selling your soul to an overload didn’t sound optimal, neither did being weak and likely killed in an extermination. That's why you decided to work under the contract as your best option for the time being, ten years you worked under Velvet, one of the Vee’s, and in exchange, you had protection and decent pay. Luckily you were smart enough to go over the fine print and not be a slave to them but, still, they had lots of power over you. You didn't work close to them in the beginning though so it worked out.

In your life, before the fall you were a high-positioned manager for a company. So, you had the appropriate knowledge to climb up the ladder quickly, scoring you higher pay and closer relations to the Vees. Velvet was the one who took an interest in you after you were recently promoted and met her in a meeting. She loved your sense of fashion and you guys hit off well.

So, now here you are working almost top of the ladder and friends with your boss, an overlord of hell, life was pretty nice! Well other than your love life… but let’s be real who has one in hell? Anyways you and Velvet were doing your weekly recap at a new bar and she was ranting about how much of a bitch Val was being. “And then that pissbaby fucking ruined my shoot” She stared at you for a moment snapping her fingers “Oi you listening to me? What's up with you? You never do this, out of it.” you sigh putting your phone down. “Sorry, we recently got some new hires and they've been driving me insane, plus a date I had yesterday sucked.” “I get you girl dealing with co-workers drives me insane too… As for your love life, you don't need one trust me, you're too hot for any mid-low life, plus men suck.” you laugh at her comment which was likely a means to cheer you up before, going back to the topic of Valentino ruining Velvet's shoot.

“I told you before you gonna stress yourself out if you refuse to get some kind of assistance!” velvet protested at Vox. “Vel, I'll be fine, I'm capable of taking care of things myself. I don't understand why you are so prominent about this whole getting an assistant.” It takes everything in Velvet not to slap Vox right there as she looks at him like he's stupid, “I'm not saying you have to have someone do your work but, having someone to help you manage things would sure as hell help you not be so pissy all the time! I'm just trying to give you advice and it's like the wires in you start short-circuiting at the idea!” Vox sighs, pressing a hand across his screen before replying. “Look, as much as I appreciate you trying to help, I can handle it myself, getting an assistant will just create more work for me anyway. And I'd prefer to deal with the least amount of idiots possible since we have to deal with Val every day.” Velvet opens up her phone still talking to Vox, “You bloody right about the Piss Baby but, my point is what if we get you an assistant who isn't an idiot?” Vox raised an eyebrow “Got someone in mind” Velvet smiled already shooting a text to a certain someone, “of course” 

Velvet 💕

Cancel wtvr you’re doing I need to talk to u

You

Am I in trouble

???

Ok geez I'm coming 

“Took you long enough girl, I thought you weren't coming,” Velvet said leaning back in a nearby chair and scrolling on her phone, “well when you ask someone mid-workday to drop everything they're doing it takes them a minute to get somewhere,” you reply slightly annoyed as you sit down grabbing a bottle of water. “Yeah yeah, let's cut it to the point so I'm not wasting your precious time. Starting Tomorrow you'll be Vox’s assistant or whatever.” you choke on the water. “I'm sorry WHAT” asked a bit louder than necessary. Velvet rolls her eyes, placing her phone down, “Vox needs an assistant to help manage his shitstorm of a workload, and because he won't settle for just anyone I figured you'd be the perfect demon for the position. After all, you don't like your job now anyway so it's a win-win!” You slump down in your seat “How am I supposed to have my current job figured out in one day? It'll be a disaster and the whole team will fall apart!” Velvet shrugs “I wouldn't worry about it I'm sure a few demons can handle not having you around.” you decide not to argue with her and head back to your office.

The rest of the day you were stressed, trying to manage everything for your departure and making sure the team wouldn't fall apart. Getting home you almost immediately fell asleep not wanting to deal with anything else for the rest of the night.

You woke up two hours earlier than you normally would, whether that was because you wanted to look good or because your nerves were getting to you. Anyways you decided on an outfit and took around an hour to do your makeup and such. Because you had extra time you decided to get some coffee on your way to work, then you headed to the office of the overlord you now work for. You only prayed he wouldn’t be upset about your earliness.

You knocked on the doors of a room that Vox was supposedly in, well it was the room Velvet told you to go to, the doors opened and you began to walk across the bridge that led to a huge TV panel-like area. Each step you took you felt your anxiety build for no particular reason, the echo of your footsteps with each step you took. When you get to the area where you assumed he’d be though, all that was placed was an empty chair. You were going to head back, “you showed up much earlier than Velvet said you were going to arrive.” holy shit you were not expecting him to be right behind you, you got frightened hard “fuck!” you shout before realizing what you said. Your boss ends up laughing at your slip-up, “Oh did I scare you, that's hilarious' ' You bit the inside of your cheek before apologizing, which Vox didn't care much for. He sat at his desk and stared at the screens in front of him, you were waiting for him to speak up but, it seemed you were going to need to make the first move.

“So, Sir, what would you like me to do…?” Vox takes a sip of his coffee staring down at his phone before blankly looking at you, “What- did Velvet not tell you anything?” you look back at him a bit embarrassed, “Not really no…” For the next tenish minutes or so, Vox grudgingly explained to you what he expected of you, which ultimately wasn't a whole lot. You knew he had other assistants in the past to just help with managing his schedule but, when Velvet told you about this job you didn't think it'd be this… But hey, surely over time it'd get better right?

Two weeks later

Yeah, are things getting better? Hell no, the first week was fairly smooth and basic the next week though you and Vox began to talk more, and god was he egotistical. You guys were constantly getting into debates with one another which usually started with you gently criticizing Vox and his decision-making on affairs but, it'd quickly spiral into you guys changing topics into how much the other sucked. Yet despite that, he hadn't fired you yet… Or worse. 

Vox was going to be coming in later than usual today because of this meeting he had scheduled with the other Vees so as any normal sinner would do, you just waited at Voxs desk, knowing he was going to come late and you sat in the chair he usually occupied. Was it a bad idea, sure but what the worst that could happen? You were working on some scheduling and afterward scrolled on your phone, and being plagued by boredom you fell asleep.

Vox was on his way after finishing a ‘productive’ meeting with the other Vees which ended up being Vox stopping Valentino from one of his meltdowns, over who knows what. Being drained he just wanted to recharge and figured he’d just have you take care of any events he would need to attend. While he was initially planning to get rid of you the first chance you get because he wasn’t exactly a fan of someone being this close to him for work. Having high expectations of others wasn’t exactly something Vox had, with

 good reason, well somewhat, those reasons get overshadowed by his inflated ego. 

Quickly though you did end up growing on Vox as an employee, he wasn’t exactly sure what it was about you but, after giving it some thought, he figured it was the fact you were a breath of fresh air instead of the sinners he normally employed. While your attitude he did find absurd sometimes, it was manageable for him since you never stepped too much out of place… You were still more professional than 90% of sinners and overlords he worked with, and you had some brains in your head which again, was something most in hell lacked (probably because the brains they had were fried after the copious amount of drugs they take.)

As Vox was heading towards his desk he heard… snoring? No that couldn’t be right, but as he poked his screen around in view of his chair there you were, fast asleep. Vox did find the fact you fell asleep in his chair funny but, at the same time, he needed to recharge and didn’t want to put up with anyone, including you right now. That being said, it was easy enough for Vox to conjure up another chair he could recharge in for the time being while you were sleeping. If it was any other circumstances Vox probably would’ve yelled at you for the audacity you had to sit and sleep in his chair, instead of working but, that was for another day. For now, Vox just wanted a break…

When you awoke you were greeted by a sight you never expected to see, Vox asleep..? While you were just realizing the situation in yourself still, you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. Even though the situation itself wasn’t what you’d call funny, it was the idea that he fell asleep ironic because, from what you had seen and experienced, Vox was more of a workaholic so being asleep was unlike him. 

You took a picture of this moment to show Velvet later when you meet up knowing she’d want to see it herself. The most bizarre thing to you was the fact when Vox was indeed asleep that he would have one of those DVD-type logos bounce around his screen, except this was of The Vee’s logo. While Vox was asleep you thought about how you should be productive but, you didn’t feel the urge to be doing such as of now. What you did feel an urge to do is snoop around your boss's desk and see what you could find. Honestly, you didn’t wish to find anything incriminating (not that it would matter) you were just interested in the overload behind closed doors, and who could blame you? 

You started with poking around the general surface area which is when you made the realization you never truly allowed yourself to be familiar with your surroundings. It was spotless with not even a particle of dust occupying the space, but to the sides of the desk, three drawers stacked on one another worked as structural support. You had checked the right side first, and to your disappointment, there was nothing of interest to be found inside. Just some extra wires and such, what’d you expect? When opening the first drawer on the left though that disappointment quickly blossomed into curiosity. 

A photo of the radio demon laid flat on it, while at initial glance it might seem ordinary the more you observed it, the more that curiosity inside you grew. To the right of the paper, it was very poorly torn, while most of the image was removed, there was a part that wasn’t removed that grew your curiosity once more, an edge of the TV screen seemed to occupy the space, an older model to be clear, this photo was old. You didn’t take Vox to be exactly the sentimental type, so why would he keep such a thing? You wanted to ask him to figure out this seemingly tragic history but, a hollow pit grew in the back of your stomach because, you knew you couldn’t ask about it, for one you wouldn’t know how he would react and that kind of questioning goes way beyond your relationship with the overlord, and secondly you knew for a fact Vox wouldn’t take kindly to snooping, especially if it was something personal like you suspected. You set the photo back into the drawer the way you found it and decided that it was about time you stopped procrastinating and working.

Vox had awoken a few hours after yourself, his screen slowly adjusted to the setting around him, his vision beginning to turn on. He was greeted with the sight of you, still in his chair, working at his desk. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable” You didn't even bother seeming scared as you hummed, “Yeah, I figured since you were asleep I'd take advantage to work more efficiently.” Vox chucked “Effectively work, sure, whatever you say.” the dripping sarcasm caused you to let out a laugh of your own, “Yep, efficient working is important!~” he nodded in agreement amused by your attitude. While this kind of behavior would usually piss him off you didn't do it to try to come off better than him or cocky. 

The rest of the workday went by quickly with you and Vox both having your affairs to deal with, so you only had a small chat here and there. Getting home you slip off your shoes and switch to some comfier clothing. As you were settling down a call appeared on your phone with Velvet’s contact showing up.

“Hey girl how's it going?” Velvet inquired in her usual tone. “Absolutely exhausted Vel, I just got home and can't wait to head to bed.” the conversation went on for a little while longer before you remembered the photo you took earlier today that you wanted to show Velvet. “Oh yeah I forgot to show you, look at this.” you share on your screen as the photo was earlier taken of Vox fast asleep, as you giggled at the photo once more Velvet was kind of shocked. It's not that she had never seen Vox asleep before, or looking as silly as he was at that moment but, the fact he so openly had done it while you were still present was shocking to her. Vox wasn't exactly the type of overlord that'd let anyone see him so normal. His whole persona was a perfect entity with no need for things other sinners might lust for. Yet he so openly broke that persona and you didn't even seem to notice! Velvet played along though figuring she’d inquire about the matter to Vox at a later date. 

“Hah, yeah he always looks like that when he sleeps it's hilarious girl.” Velvet soon ended the call because she had ‘matters to attend to’ leaving you in the silence of your loneliness. 

“Vox get in here now!” Vox unamused musters his best-interested tone making his way to her, “Whatever could be the problem, my dear?” Velvet then hummed, completely changing her tone with a more sinister undertone, “I just wanted to ask how work has been all” Vox's grin drops, “and since when have you been one for work talk?” Velvet shrugs, “Since when could I not check up on how a friend is doing Vox, after all, you haven’t told me how things have been with your new assistant.” Vox chuckles refilling his coffee mug. 

“They’re better than I expected them to be, it’s nice to know some sinners still have any kind of intelligence.” praise wasn't something that was easily given by an overlord such as Vox so Velvet hearing him acknowledge you in a way that wasn't completely condescending made her even more invested. “Is there anything else you need to bug me with, or can I go?” Before she could ask or say anything else Vox was already on his way. (Workaholic bastard-)

While Vox was a bit interested in why Velvet was so curious about your guy's relationship, he also had better things to do than try to understand Velvet’s mind. Right as Vox had gotten you out of his head a notification from your number came through, it was only the changed schedule for tomorrow though. Why would it be anything else though you are just his assistant, nothing more. That being said, why didn’t Vox dislike you, I mean usually whenever Vox has an assistant of some kind they’re not nearly as involved with his work life as you were yet they managed to agitate him much faster than you had. He wrote it off though as you being recommended by Velvet made him have a more positive impression of you. Even if it was something else he didn't care he needed to deal with the Radio Demon being back in town.

#hazbin fandom #aceyogurt #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel headcanon #vox x you #vox headcanons #vox hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox smut #vox x y/n #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel velvette

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

black friday - m. murdock

a/n: an old work i finished because i decided y'all are owed something cute and fluffy. shoutout to all my girlies who were in codependent relationships for so long that they needed to figure out who they were again after ! as always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! warnings: lots of fluff, lots of kissing, lots of talks about a bad ex, reader is rather shy at first, cursing probably but it's late and i'm probably forgetting so much im so sorry also a lot of suggestive behavior because they're in love word count: 4.5k summary: you have a list of things to do within a year of living in new york. matt helps you check everything off- oh, and you fall in love with him, too. it's not on the list, but you do it anyways. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: black friday - tom odell "i wanna go party/i wanna have fun/wanna be happy/could you show me how it's done?/ you look so pretty/pretty like the sun"

For a long time, you thought you’d never get over your ex.

For a long time, you believed that you were it for each other. You’d go the whole nine yards—Kids, a quaint house in your hometown, Sunday dinners.

And for a long time after he broke up with you, you thought you’d never let yourself love again. How could you? How would you allow yourself to be set up for failure, after letting someone know every part of you?

You had been dating him since high school and had been living with him in your first apartment when he broke it off.

Sometimes, it was amazing, and you were never happier. But most days, it had been full of anger and talking him off the ledge all the time. It was makeup sex after arguments you couldn’t remember now.

So, when he did break up with you, you decided to use it as an excuse to run far, far away from your small town. And you found yourself in Hell’s Kitchen.

You land a job at a small law firm, and at first, you just work as a meek little office assistant.

Nelson, Murdock & Page grew by the day, and for a while, you felt out of place. It wasn’t that you were abused or worked to the bone, you just struggled to make friends, and you weren’t very social while getting over your ex anyways.

So, for about two months, you did your job quietly, laughing quietly at the bickering of your bosses, thanking Karen Page for her advice, enjoying coffee with Foggy Nelson, and of course…

Never muttering a word to Matt Murdock. He was just too intimidating. Besides, you still felt like your ex’s eyes were watching your every move, even thousands of miles away, even now.

Then one night, Foggy couldn’t handle it anymore. So, he approached you quietly at the end of a long workday, with a simple phrase.

“This week’s been crazy, huh? Hey, a few of us are going to the bar tonight, did you want to come?”

What were you supposed to say? ‘No, my ex who I don’t talk to wouldn’t like that?’

Please.

“Oh, Uhm.. I don’t know, who else is going?”

“It’ll be me, my wife, Marci, Karen..” He said.

“Sure, I’ll come.” You smiled, before you could stop yourself.

“Awesome! I’ll send you the address! I’m so glad you’re tagging along!” He grins. You’re thrilled too.

“Me too, it’ll be fun.” He begins to walk away but then he turns back around with a snap of his fingers.

“Oh! And Matt is going!”

Why wouldn’t he tell you that in the first place? Why was your face burning? Why was your heart racing?

“Oh, Great.” You told him, now suddenly conscious of everything about that night.

• • •

At the bar, you wound up ordering a drink before you went over to your friends—Well, Coworkers, you wouldn’t call them friends yet, thanking the woman behind the bar.

Then, you made your way over to them where Foggy was playing his wife in Pool—and losing horribly. So, you sit with Karen and Matt, where there is conveniently one seat available, right between the two.

Karen excitedly said your name as you approach adding a, “I can’t believe you came!” Which, ouch, but, fair.

“Well, Foggy was right, this week’s been awful, so I wanted to relax.” You smiled, sitting with them.

“I’m glad,” she said, before asking, “So, why’d you move to New York?” She knew you weren’t from here, so you figured the question would come up eventually.

“Just needed a change of pace from a small town, you know?”

“I do,” she nodded, “Do you like it here?”

Did you like being alone all the time, feeling like you’re always doing something wrong? Like you should run back to your hometown and beg your ex to marry you?

“Yeah, I love it. It’s so different in a way I wasn’t really prepared for, but it’s great.” You lied.

Matt’s blind. Why did it feel like he has this burning gaze into your skin?

“Did you go to college in your hometown, too?”

“Yeah,” You smile. You loved College. You were an early education major and had even gotten your masters in your small community college. You loved teaching, and if you hadn’t moved, you’d have stayed at the school that hired you after student teaching there. But, when you got to the city, you were unable to find consistent work because the demand for teachers was so high.

So here you were, working as an office assistant for a small law firm.

Karen glanced down to her glass and frowned.

“I’m going to grab another drink, do either of you want anything?”

“I’m good, Karen.”

“No, thank you.”

Silence. Sickening silence.

Then, he spoke.

“Do you know how upset I am that you got your drink already?”

What?

You furrowed your brows, confused.

“I’m sorry?”

“I wanted to buy you a drink, but you beat me to it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” You repeated, a light blush on your face.

“Well, I figured it might be nice to wipe the slate clean, considering you haven’t spoken more than ten words to me since you started working with us.”

That was true. There’s just something that feels so wrong about it, even though you worked with him,

“I’m sorry,” you said again, and he just laughed.

“You say that a lot.”

“I’m sor—” You caught yourself, clearing your throat. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, you speak to everyone, just not me. So, I listen and I’m pretty sure you apologize more than anything else.”

Your face was beet red.

“Okay, Okay, I get it. I don’t talk a lot, especially not to you. It’s something I’m working on, I have a whole list of things I’m working on.”

That’s true. You had an actual list of goals you have before your first year in New York is up.

“A list?”

“A list.”

“May I?” He asked, and you sighed, pulling out your phone, your list nestled deep into your notes app.

“Apologize less and talk to you is at the top.” You told him. “Then it’s get a job I love,”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry, Boss.” You took a sip of your drink, “Move into a nicer apartment, and uh..” You sighed softly. “Get over my ex.”

He tilts his head.

“Your ex?”

“The reason I moved here. He broke up with me about six months ago, but we were together for so long it feels like an impossible task.”

Matt knows the feeling.

“It’s an easy enough list. We can help you.” He says, “When did you move to New York?”

“May 1st.”

“Okay, then by May of next year, you should have everything accomplished.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna help you.”

“Oh, so now it’s you and not all of you?”

Now it’s his turn to blush.

“You’re rather talkative now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like it.”

• • •

Talking to Matt is easy, you discover quickly.

It’s the apologizing that gets you.

You’re staying late at the office about a month later, while Hell’s Kitchen is amid a blistering heat wave.

You feel like you might die. You’re editing a closing argument Foggy wants to practice when Matt calls your name gently.

“Can I see you in my office for a second?” He asks. You follow him into his office, not really thinking much of it.

“What’s up?” You ask, sitting in the spare chair in his office as he closes the door behind him, going to the seat at his desk.

“Well, remember that list we talked about?”

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t heard much from you this week.”

That’s true, it’s just been sort of a hectic time with cases piling up. You can only do so much work AND talk to your favorite coworker. Yes, Matt had quickly become your favorite person at the office, even after just a month of really trying to open up to him.

He learned about your ex, your holiday traditions and that you hate peppermint.

You learned about his parents, his favorite dessert, and that he dresses up every night to go fight the criminals of New York.

Okay, you technically weren’t supposed to learn that, but you had stopped by his apartment early to drop off a file you were working on, and he had just crawled home and was still in his suit when he answered the door, forgetting completely that you didn’t know.

So now You knew how he was able to tell that you lied to Karen that night at the bar.

“I’m—” You start to apologize, but then you stop yourself. “I’m not sorry, I’ve been busy and so have you, but I do miss talking to you, though I am not sorry.” You say, and he grins.

“That’s my girl.”

Huh.

Your stomach swirls and you beam at the praise.

Wait, what?

You brush it off, before asking,

“Does Daredevil still come out to play even though it’s a hundred degrees out?”

“Will you have your window open with a few bottles of water open for me?”

“Always.”

“Then yes.”

Talking to Matt is rather easy. You have a feeling that soon the apologizing will follow.

• • •

October is the month of figuring out what you want to do with your life.

Sure, you love working in the office, but you are going crazy. You’re under stimulated and the hours are consistently long.

So, you try a lot of things.

You bake, you cook, you take exams, you work tirelessly to try and figure out where you want to work and where you’ll be happiest.

You try doing hair but find yourself uninspired.

You think you might like being a nursing assistant but turns out, you don’t like blood.

But part of you knows your heart isn’t in it, for two reasons.  

For one, you want to teach. You want to be teaching young kids’ addition and their spelling and stars. You desperately want to be a great influence in their lives.

And the second thing is..

You don’t want to leave your coworkers.

You love spending time with Karen and Foggy. For a long time, you didn’t have friends outside of your relationship, and they are the best friends you’ve ever had.

Foggy spends long coffee breaks cracking jokes with you and asking for your sandwich order, telling you that you have to stop by his brother’s deli for one of his signature subs. Then he tells you this long-winded story about how his mother wanted him to be a butcher, not a lawyer.

Karen is your favorite girl. She’s not only drop dead gorgeous and ridiculously smart, but she is also kind like no one you have ever met. She texts you when you forget to let her know you’ve gotten home safe, there is always a coffee on your desk when you get there and for your birthday, flowers are on your desk, scribbled with a cute note in her handwriting.

And then, there’s Matt.

He’s your best friend and knows you better than anyone. He loves having you right in the office where he can hear your heartbeat and smell your vanilla coconut perfume. He tells you about his dad and you tell him about your folks.

He knows your Chinese and Thai food orders like the back of his hand, always ordering you some when he gets his. You describe the movies you’re watching in detail, and he hangs on to every word. There is no one who sees you more than him, and he’s quite literally blind. When you tell him about your dream to go back into teaching, he encourages it.

“When I was a kid, I’d have benefited so much from someone like you.”

He asks you to do his makeup for his Halloween costume, no matter how badly it irritates his skin. He likes the idea of your hands so close to his face.

But you’re both critically aware of how, not only is the market flooded, but you’re dreading the day you leave your little office job.

So many people have asked if the two of you are dating. And you both always laugh, because.. because you just love each other in a way that you can’t describe. But no, you’ve never thought about dating Matt Murdock.

Until this one day.

It’s like any other day, really. You have your friends cramped in your tiny apartment and you’re just waiting for Matt’s arrival before you eat dinner for the night.

Karen, Foggy and Marci sit at your little table as you finish cooking, and Marci just glances over to you.

“You need to move to a better apartment.”

“I know, I know,” you laugh, “But she’s so cozy! I love it here!” It was, and is, all you could afford, but you grew to love it.

“Yeah, and I love having leg room.” Foggy chimes.

“You know what, Nelson? You could just, pay me more so I could move somewhere nicer?”

“Touche.” There’s a knock on the door, so you grin and head over there, opening the door for Matt.

And you need to take a second.

He’s holding your favorite bottle of wine, and he’s in these nice dark jeans and a gray sweater under his peacoat.

This thought strikes you.

This thing you thought you’d never feel again after your ex.

Matt Murdock is hot, and you have got to have him.

This is it. The thing you can’t deny any longer. You have a massive crush on the devil that disguises himself as your favorite person. To you, he is an angel.

“Hey,” you say breathily, as if you have it out for yourself. Surely he’ll know. “You didn’t have to bring wine.” You told him, a soft smile on your face.

He steps inside as you take the wine, leaning in to kiss your cheek gently, something he has found himself doing every time he enters your apartment. It’s your routine.  He loves this aspect of your dynamic because he has known that he’s wanted you for months. You’ve just been so caught up in everything that you didn’t see it.

“It’s no trouble, thank you for having us,” he says gently.

So this is it.

You just can’t deny it.

You have a massive crush on Matt Murdock, and there isn’t a thing you could do about it. Except maybe kiss him. But for that night, you just kind of relax and pretend you’re already dating him. That’s something you haven’t done in a long time.

You’re beginning to feel like yourself again.

• • •

Nelson Family Christmas celebrations are something of legend for you. For months you’ve heard about it, and you’re on your way to the deli with a handful of presents and two trays of cookies.

You’ve decided that just once, you want a holiday away from your family. Truth be told, you really don’t want to spend your holiday without your best friends.

You have on this stunning outfit—A red sweater, a black skirt and these warm black stockings. Boots to die for.

You know Matt can’t see your outfit, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to dress up for him. It’s weird. This crush thing has been getting out of control.

You’re greeted at the door of the Deli with a crowd full of blonde-haired New York Irish-Italians, and they’re all lovely. You put your presents down and place your cookies on the dessert table. And you love Foggy’s family. They ask you questions constantly, and Foggy’s sister-in-law talks to you for a while about her career in the local high school system.

It’s a joy to meet so many people so full of love.

So, you go over to Foggy as he’s yapping and say gently, “Hey, where’s Matt?”

He grins.

“Why do you want to go kiss him under the mistletoe?” He teases. Your face goes red.

“Shut up! Where is he, Franklin?” You glare and he laughs, patting your arm.

“Upstairs in the hallway.” He says, and as you walk away he calls, “Go get ‘em, Tiger!” You glare and grab a cookie on your way up.

And you find him, standing in a quiet corner of the hallway. You go to open your mouth and he turns to you.

“Merry Christmas,” he leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Matty.” You hum. “Guess what type of cookie I have.”

He sniffs the air and shakes his head. “Give me a taste and I’ll guess.” You hand him the cookie and he put it in his mouth halfway, raising his eyebrows to you.

“What?”

He gestures to the cookie in his mouth, and you laugh, realizing that he wants you to bite the other end, ala Lady and the Tramp. So you lean forward and take a bite, and he eats the rest, inches separating your face as you enjoy your treat.

People chatter down the hallway and Christmas music plays from somewhere. There are so many different foods and people, and all Matt can focus on is the vanilla coconut scent of your perfume. When you’re both finished eating your cookie, his hands find your waist.

“Matt, what are you—”

You don’t get the chance to finish because suddenly he is kissing you in the dark hallway of your friend’s family Christmas party. The kiss is wonderful. He tastes of the cookie you two shared. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.

You need more kissing practice because it’s been so long. But you get the feeling that Matt won’t mind helping you out if this is another thing you want to add to your list.

When he pulls away, he’s a bit breathless but he says one thing to you.

“Chocolate chip peanut butter.”

“What?”

“That’s my guess for the cookie type.”

“Wanna kiss me again to confirm?” He grins and his hands travel down, just slightly to feel the materials of your skirt.

“That’s my girl.”

• • •

The next two months fly by in a whirl of kissing Matt, trying to find a teaching job and enjoying your first real winter in New York.

By the time March rolls around, the clock is ticking for you to be able to find a job in this school year. And then, Foggy and Matt get you the best gift ever.

“Mrs. Future Murdock,” You send Foggy a glare.

“Watch it.”

“Okay, listen—You remember that rich guy that was wrongfully accused of tax evasion?”

“Yeah, why?” You’re cleaning up your office space for the weekend, excited to go to Josie’s, have a few drinks and unwind with your very handsome boyfriend.

“Well, he’s a super intendent for a large school district in Hell’s Kitchen.” Your head snaps up to the two.

“What does that mean for me?” You raise an eyebrow.

“There’s an older teacher there who needed to have surgery and we thought, hey, we know a teacher who could sub in.”

“…Who?”

“You.” Matt says, and you grin. “Your interview is Monday.”

You gasp and hug Foggy quickly, before making your way over to Matt.

“You are the absolute best.” You kiss him quickly and his hands, as they often do, find themselves on your hips. “Thank you.”

What a lovely lovely man.

“Don’t thank us yet, you still need to get the job.” Right.

Your night at Josie’s is lovely but you spend the rest of your weekend prepping for the interview on Monday. It goes well, but something in you is telling you to stay anxious. Why? You have no idea.

It takes two weeks for them to get back to you. But you walk into the office of Nelson, Murdock & Page with a big grin. You walk right into Matt’s office, who glances up to you when you walk in, your heart racing.

“Hey, Sweetheart, I—” He cuts himself off when you walk right up to his desk and pull his chair out before finding yourself on Matt’s lap.  Your arms wrap around his neck and his arms find your waist. Before he can say much else, you kiss him quickly, and he grins into the kiss. Eventually, when you do pull away, Matt asks, “Everything okay?”

“Matty, consider this to be my two weeks’ notice.”

He gasps happily.

“Oh my god! How awful it is that you’re leaving us!” He grins, kissing you quickly. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you for getting me the interview.” You tell him, “You know if I do well, the teacher might let me coteach with her next year.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Our list is almost done, baby.”

“Your list, not ours.”

“Yeah but you’ve been helping so much.”

“You’re easy to help.”

“You’re easy to love.”

He blushes and decides to kiss his girl again.

• • •

 So, in April, a month before your year is up, you find yourself needing a new apartment. The rent is getting crazy, and it’s nowhere near the school you’re working in. Especially considering that the teacher you’re subbing for decided she wanted to retire so you’d be taking over for her full time come Fall.

Plus, your apartment is small and cramped, especially with Matt’s stuff slowly invading your place. You discuss this with him one night. It’s late and he’s covered in cuts from his Daredeviling.

“I hate apartment hunting.” You whine, and he hums, kissing your head gently. “Nowhere is good enough. Too far from the school, too far from you, too expensive.” You complain.

“Why don’t you move in here?”

Huh. Why hadn’t you thought of that? Was it too quick to be moving in with him at this point? Maybe, but something told you Matt wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“Really?”

He grins.

“Really. It’s close to the school, a good price, and rather close to me.” You grin and kiss him softly. It’s your favorite habit.

So, two weeks later, you’re hauling boxes into your boyfriend’s apartment. You take a few drawers of his dresser and some of your nicer outfits find their way into his armoire. Your mugs sit comfortably next to his in his cabinets. Your cabinets.

Your throw blanket is draped comfortably across his couch, and your shoes lay next to his.

Your lotion sits next to his first aid kit. You love dating Matt Murdock.

You love that next month will be one year since you moved to New York, and your life is sort of coming together. Glorious Matthew Murdock is your boyfriend. Your job is amazing. Your apartment is wonderful. Matt Murdock is your boyfriend, and he is amazing at kissing you.

• • •

So, Matt knows May is your year since moving to New York. He knows you guys could go to Josie’s and have a normal old time at the bar…

But he wants to do something special for you. So, he asks Foggy, Marci and Karen to get dressed up and go to a bar on the nicer side of town. Not that you don’t love Josie’s but your one year in New York calls for a special occasion.

You decide to wear a nice satin dress and he loves running his hands over the soft fabric. To Mat, you are perfect in every way, and every day he falls deeper and deeper in love with you.

So on a warm May night in Hell’s Kitchen, you sit in a bougie bar with your best friends, boyfriend and enjoy a year since you moved to this wonderful place you now call home. And a year and four months since your ex broke up with you. Truly, for a long time, you thought you’d never get over him.

Now, Matt is all you see.

At some point, a little tipsy, you kiss Matt’s cheek gently and tell him you’re going to grab another drink.

“Do you want anything?” You ask softly.

“Just for you to come back soon. I’ll miss you.” Oh, Tipsy Matt was your favorite.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” You kiss him quick and head off to the bar. You order another drink and wait patiently, taking in just how happy you are in this moment.

Then, a familiar voice calls your name, and you glance over and you can’t believe it.

Your ex-boyfriend is right in front of you, and for a moment, you convince yourself you must be drunker than you realized.

“Wow, you look fantastic!” He says a grin on his face. Was… Was your ex ever… attractive? You can’t remember if he ever was. Especially not since dating Matt.

“Oh, Thanks..” You smile softly, trying to be polite but to get out of here quickly and get back to the arms of your loving boyfriend.

“Are you here with anyone?”

“Yeah.” You told him. “Some of my good friends, and—”

“So, you’re not seeing anyone?” You furrow your eyebrows. When did you say that?

Then, there’s an arm around your waist, and you know whose it is in an instant.

“Hey, Sweetheart.. Is everything okay?” Matt asks, smiling to you. Oh, he knows. He knows big time.

“Everything is great.” You turn to your ex and grin. “This is Matt, He’s my—”

“Fiancé.” Matt ends.

Fiancé?

“Fiancé?” Your ex asks, bewildered.

“Mhm. Got engaged a few days ago, that’s what we’re here celebrating.” You said gently, leaning your head against Matt’s arm.

“Engaged, but you’ve only been here for a year!”

“Well, I wasn’t about to wait around for you to ask me to date you again.” You glance over to Matt. “Besides, when you know you know.” You say softly.

Matt leans in and kisses you gently, “When you know, you know.” He echoes.

Your ex is wildly uncomfortable.

“I thought you said you’d always love me.” He says, and he has that intimidating tone to his voice that you hate.

“Yeah… Me too.. Guess I was wrong. You have a nice night, Okay?” You smile and take your drink, turning to head back to your friends. Your ex is bummed out but leaves you alone, and Matt grins to you further.

“When you know you know.” He hums.

“Fiancé..” You echo. He shrugs gently.

“I like the sound of it.”

“Me too.” You say gently. “I love you.”

“I love you, Sweetheart.” He kisses your cheek. “So… A year in New York.”

“Yup. My list is all done.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I talk to you all the time, and I don’t apologize unless it’s necessary. I love teaching and my job. My apartment is stellar, and… I think it’s safe to say I am over my ex. I upgraded. In fact, my upgrade is so much hotter than anyone else I know.”

Matt leans in to kiss you, a grin on his face, but he mutters a soft, “That’s my girl,” Before he does.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil fic #fluff #foggy nelson #karen page #tooth rotting fluff #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock my beloved

[rimouskis]

could you explain more about what you view as the before era and what you view as the after? i need to learn my herstory

I think this requires a more detailed and educated/researched answer than I can give after an exhausting workday and an after-hours work event, but I'm going to do my best and also open up the floor in reblogs for people to chip in their thoughts

foremost: a DISCLAIMER that this post does not aim to shit on writers from the "before" era. there are many classic fics that I love and enjoy, even if I consider their characterizations to be "less accurate"* than the ones we have in the after era.

*aside to say: accuracy is based only off of literal media accounts we have of these men; we do not know them, we should not claim to know them, and they have had different comfort levels with the media knowing selective truths about their lives [sid out of choice, geno out of media xenophobia] than they did when these early fics were being written.

"before" fics (which I tend to refer to as "classic" fics, and had their heyday in 2012-2013 but continued up until 2016ish) tended to have more regimented roles for sid and geno. sid was usually the protagonist; geno was the love interest.

this came with a cascading set of characteristics assigned to each guy. sid was poor-little-meow-meow'd. geno was the pursuer in the relationship. sid usually bottomed. sid had the whole spacetoaster moment (he was the inspiration for the term, haha). there wasn't much a/b/o fic but sid was, like, the omega-fied one and geno was alpha-ized.

something I've been thinking about more recently is how 2012-2013 era sidgeno displayed signs of Migratory Slash Fandom. I don't think of MSF as an inherently negative/condemning thing, but I think it's a phenomenon that deserves to be mentioned/analyzed, yeah?

MSF thrives on big character differences.... like, grumpy/sunshine, sarcastic/broody, genius/empath. it's all about emphasizing disparate archetypes to create natural tension in a story. this works really well in most romance novels! I love it!

the issues arise when people try to make characters fit into these preset dynamics. and, frankly, when sidgeno first got big, we straight-up didn't know as much about sid and geno. I mean that. despite sid being EXTENSIVELY covered by media from age, like, 14, he was really tight-lipped compared to what we have now.

and geno was.... there. I don't mean that as a diss—he was INCREDIBLE, but the media totally passed him over again and again. or they helped contribute to stereotypes of him being a dumb oaf who didn't know english.

aside: ironically I think that helped in creating sidgeno and not, like.... sidflower or sidtanger. geno was so "DIFFERENT" from sid (aka: russian, characterized by media as not knowing how to speak [in comparison to sid's highly curated media soundbites]) that it meant he was the best candidate for A Ship with sid.

a lot of the really big writers who got into sidgeno were fandom veterans with lots of experience in other big fandoms. to me, that means MSF had a hand in all this. and we should be grateful, because it led to the BOOM of hockey fic, and of sidgeno fic specifically. modern hrpf wouldn't exist without it.

that being said, those template ship dynamics, plus the media's attitude then towards sid and geno in its coverage, led to those characterizations of whiny soft sensitive boy sid who needed to be rescued even though he was the best hockey player EVER, and geno as the lumbering tall strong alpha not-that-bright Love Interest Man.

this isn't to say every fic was this way, or that this is BAD. I, uh, love poor-little-meow-meow-ing sid and omegafying the hell out of him. what I'm saying is that it was a near-ubiquitous characterization across the board.

that all changed in 2016-2018. I personally wholly credit sevenfists, though I imagine it's more nuanced than that, but: my blog, I make the rules here. I don't know if sevenfists was psychic or just highly observant and absolutely excellent at reading people (and that's basically the same thing, right?), but characterization shifts began taking place in fic....

and the coolest thing happened, in that those characterizations were seemingly reinforced by more media coverage. the back to back cups brought with them TONS of interviews with and media about the team, and sid and geno in particular. the coolest part of it was that sid had loosened up a LOT and geno had gotten more comfortable (and had gotten a reporter firmly on his side).

the interviews about sid post 2016 were just SO different. so much information started coming out, and a LOT of it conflicted with Ye Olde Characterizations. as it turned out, sid was deeply one of the boys. he was funny. everyone liked him. he loved hosting. he was insanely comfortable around almost everyone, including strangers, because he's a little freak who's kind to everyone. he can make smalltalk like no one's business. he's kind of gross. he likes to giggle and be in on jokes and get into the thick of it. he isn't some blushing virgin bride sold off of mario's doorstep, yeah?

and geno, too, was finally getting the coverage he deserved. and his personality was both fortified by age and better shown to us through media. as it turns out, he isn't some happy go lucky oaf. he's mercurial and intensely aware of what others think of him (and he CARES). he's sensitive and thoughtful but also can lash out at random times. he has a wicked sense of humor that he uses as a defense mechanism and as a surefire way to get people to like him, which matters to him. and, as everyone says, he is SMART.

if you had to boil it down, I'd say that post-2016, it became clear that SID is the confident one and GENO is the insecure one. and fic caught onto that with a miraculously fast pace. also: they're more alike than they are different, but I still think romance inherently feeds off of difference and tension, so we still exaggerate things to make the stories ✨WORK✨.

I'm not going to give examples of pre- and post- era fics, because I don't want to point any fingers and say someone was doing characterization "wrong." that's not the takeaway I want anyone to have here.

fandom attitudes have changed. it's been 10 years since that first wave of fics, and while I don't think that's very long, it's a hell of a long time on the internet, and in a niche internet community. what was once the standard for fics (and what was well-read, and what people gravitated towards) was different. not worse—different.

I think it's fair to say the "after" era of fics is more "accurate" to what we know of sid and geno. it's also fair to say that this is only the case because we have a WEALTH of information, character-revealing interviews and videos and anecdotes, that Ye Old Authors could only dream of getting.

I really love the story of how everything has changed, and it's a fabulous microcosm of fandom evolution and how approaches to fanworks have changed and grown with fandom, and I think it's all so so cool.

#additions welcome! #I also feel like I've made this post before lol #gather round children it's time for granny rimouskis to spin the tale of the sidgeno evolution once more

[killerpancakeburger]

Another Headache

SUMMARY: You get another one of your chronic headaches, and the meds don't don't work. Soap's by your side though.

PAIRING: Soap x F!Reader (Soap calls Reader "pretty girl" once, that's the only mark of gender)

TAGS: Hurt/Comfort, fluff, suggestive at the end, Soft!Soap, Established relationship, Civilian!Reader, Reader works as Price's assistant.

WARNINGS: The suggestiveness at the end, mention of chronic pain.

WORDS COUNT: 1.8k

A/N: Lots of Soaps I like in there... pouting Soap, drawing Soap, needy Soap, Human calculator Soap (because of that one post that I KNOW I REBLOGGED BUT CANT FIND!! CURSE U TUMBLR!)

“1245.87… minus 56.43… divided by 98.62….” you mumble out loud to yourself, painstakingly inputting each digit into your calculator.

“12.06,” pipes up Soap without missing a beat, not looking up from his sketchbook where he's drawing.

You look up from the device and throw him a mildly annoyed glare, assuming he concocted a random number to confuse you. It's the first explanation that comes to your mind, the most logical one, even though it would be out of character for Johnny to make your work harder, even as a joke. 

“Very funny.”

Then you press the result touch and your eyes widen as the machine provides the exact same answer.

“How in the hell…?”

You look at your boyfriend again, irritation gone out the window, replaced by amazement and a dash of admiration.

“Do you have a calculator for brain or something?”

“S'basic stuffs for sniping and demolition works.” 

The explanation is way too abrupt for anyone who knows how much Johnny enjoys his job, rambling, and rambling about his job. You raise an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Can you develop?”

An amused smirk stretches his lips as he still persists in not looking at you.

“Bonnie, ye need tae focus oan yer work, or ye'll git us in trouble.”

You groan in protest. Being lectured about trouble by Soap “Troublemaker” Mactavish out of all people, you couldn’t make it up. That doesn't make him less right unfortunately. 

Your supervisor, John Price, only allowed his Sergeant to hang out in your office during his free time on the express condition that it would not impact your tasks. You initially couldn’t imagine that blue-eyed menace sitting still for hours only for your sake; to do your own thing in your own side of the room in silence, without any physical contact, nor any other sign of acknowledgement? That was Ghost's idea of a good time, but Soap's idea of torture.

However, it turned out you underestimated his willpower, and his determination to take advantage of every moment that could be shared with you. The intimate knowledge that he was holding back this whole time, and that the minute the clock would strike the end of your workday, he would be all over you like usual, warmed your heart and sent pleasing tingles everywhere in your body.

Sympathetic to your plight, Johnny adds with indulgence and cheekiness in his tone: 

“Ah ken how much ye like mah voice, but we'll make up fur lost time after.”

You roll your eyes at the suggestive taunt, still recognizing the comment for what it is - a consolation to compensate for his refusal to extend earlier. You bite your tongue to keep yourself from retorting about how distracting he's actually being even when drawing in silence, his biceps bulging with his posture, and the mix of concentration and serenity on his face strangely captivating. 

The expression he wears when sketching is one you're particularly fond of. It reveals a different kind of intensity than the one he usually displays, when eager for battle or indignant in front of injustice. It is one not many are privy to, since he tends to favor the solitude of his bedroom to scribble, making this scene all the more special and giving it an intimate tone that's enough to make your heart race.

A loving smile on your face, you throw yourself into your work.

You can feel it coming from miles away.

That accursed headache. Pushing behind your forehead, between your eyebrows and sneaking behind your temples.

Its reasons could very well be everything or nothing; the mix of cold weather and your own tiredness, the acute light from the winter sun blinding your eyes in the absence of sunglasses, the long hours spent in front of a screen.

It is light yet harsh all at once. Muffled pain always felt worse than a sharp one. Yet you know from experience it is only going to hurt more from here on.

Gritting your teeth in a grimace of discomfort, you press your hand against your forehead. The coolness of your fingers provides a respite, albeit a short-term one.

Is there even any painkillers left in your bag? You can’t remember the state of your stock-

A familiar box is suddenly moved in your line of sight. Your usual brand of aspirin.

You look up to see Soap staring at you expectingly. You take the medecine with a grateful smile.

“You really are full of surprises today!”

He pouts as he hands you your water bottle.

“Wi’ how often ye git those bloody things, a'd have tae be a bloody eejit for nae knowing how tae deal with ‘em.”

He sounds like your chronic migraines offended him, personally, and it's both adorable and hilarious.

“That's still very sweet,” you insist after swallowing the treatment.

He brings a lock of hair behind your ear before tenderly kissing your forehead.

“That's me, “Sweet Soap” Mactavish.”

That drags a giggle out of you.

An hour later, as the meds miserably failed, you’re not laughing at all anymore.

At least your work is done for the day, granting you the luxury to suffer on the rec room's couch. Laying on your back, head on the armrest, you’re pressing the heels of your hands into your closed eyelids while groaning in agony. Any bright light or screen increases the pain, so keeping your eyes closed is the only protection conceivable.

Seated right by you, your legs laying over his lap, Soap squeezes your tigh in support, itching to bring you relief but unsure how.

“What can I do?”

You remove your hands from your face to peek at him. If the ache behind your temples wasn’t occupying all space in your thoughts, you would have fussed over his chagrined expression that wasn’t without reminding you of a worried puppy. He was torn between concern for you and frustration of not being able to do anything. Johnny absolutely hated not being capable of remedying a problem. It made you want to cover his face in kisses, not only to placate his frustration, but also because you were filled with cute aggression.

“Well, I have this theory that if someone hit me really hard in the head with a baseball bat, it would help…”

“How the bloody ‘ell would it help!?”

“The pain from the blow would replace the headache.”

“How does replacing pain with pain helps…?”

“I prefer the acute pain of a strike than the dull one of a headache. It's way more bearable.”

“M not hitting you with a baseball bat,” he exclaimed, clearly convinced that the pain had made you go insane.

“I'll just ask Simon instead.”

At this point, you’re insisting more to rile him up rather than out of seriousness.

“Nae yer not,” he retorts vehemently, voice bordering on a growl.

You're about to laugh when he suddenly gets up, still taking care to not send your legs flying off the sofa. Worried that you managed to actually piss him off, you half pick yourself up, raising on your forearms, but he exits the room before you can catch his expression, ordering you to not go anywhere. Not like you were planning to anyway.

You flop back on the couch, closing your eyes and massaging your temples. A moment later, deliciously cold fingers rest on your forehead. You hum in appreciation.

“Better?”

“I love you,” you declare boldly.

The husky laughter Soap emits in response is almost as soothing as his touch.

You suddenly open your eyes as a realization dawns on you.

“Johnny, why are your hands fucking freezing?”

“Put ‘em under cold water,” he retorts casually, like it was evident.

You sigh, closing your eyelids, endeared by his behavior but also a bit fed up.

“You're crazy.”

He chuckles again.

“Crazy in love maybe.”

You don't need to look at him to know the smug smirk he's displaying with that comment.

“Wipe that goofy smile off your face, Mactavish.”

“Make me.”

You playfully slap whatever part of his body is nearby, then sigh once more.

“It's only a temporary solution, though. Unless you intend to spend all night turning your hands into ice cubes.”

“Ah could try-”

“Johnny, no.”

“Johnny, yes.”

“Don't be silly.”

“Will have tae be, unless ye've got a better option.”

“Laying in the dark with a wet cloth could help… or at least it's supposed to.”

This is how you ended up in Soap's bedroom with the lights off, both of you laying on his bed, you nuzzled on his torso with his arm around your waist, a washcloth soaked with freezing water on your forehead.

“Is it working?” he asks, barely a few minutes after settling down.

You cannot contain a smile at the impatience in his voice.

“More or less. But what sucks the most with this method is.. “

“Aye?”

“I'm so freaking bored. Cannot read, cannot use my phone, cannot fall asleep either. And with no distraction, I cannot focus on anything but the pain.”

“Ah could distract ye... If ye wanted.” he immediately suggests.

“What are you thinking of, pretty boy? Surely nothing… inappropriate.’

Despite your playful words, your fingers start idly running down his chest, and the shiver that travels his skin in response doesn't leave you indifferent. You hear him suck in a breath, and he grasps your wandering hand only to press it flat against his pectoral, even raising his breast to deepen the contact. Meanwhile the hand holding you tightens its grip on your flesh before traveling lower to grab your ass. 

“Now that yer mentioning it, ah read online that it could help wi’ headaches…”

“That what could help, Johnny?”

“An orgasm, bonnie,” he rasps.

You let out an amused sigh at the bold statement, trying to hide how much effect the rasp of his voice has on you.

“Hear me oot-” he pleads, apparently worried that you’re taking him for a perverted loser obsessed with his own pleasure over your comfort. “A'm not bullshitting ye-”

“I know, baby,” you appease him. “I know about the orgasm being a thing.”

“Ye know?... wait, ye knew this whole time? Why didn’t ye say anythin’?”

“Let's just say I'm skeptical of that method.”

“Did ye already try it?”

“Nope. But I'll believe it when I see it.”

“Then let me make ye a believer, pretty girl. Please? Pretty please? Will make ye feel so, so good, promise. Lemme take away yer pain, hen.”

He punctuates his begging by burning kisses, on your temple, your cheek, your jaw, your neck. His fingers sneak under your shirt, tickling your waist. The neediness in his voice and his touch makes you whine his name helplessly.

“Johnny…”

He echoes your whimper with a moan of your name.

“Alright, alright,” you capitulate. “For the sake of experimentation.”

#mine #soap x reader #soap x you #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x you #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #soap cod #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #soap fluff #cod fluff #soap squad™️ #soap squad

[yevmarie]

My Angel. My Devil.

Pairing: Scud x Female Reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, terribly written smut, unprotected piv, swearing, drug use (by reader as well), bad English (not my first language).

A/N: well, it's my first time in writing smut in English (as if it could be better if I wrote in my first languages, lol). So, if this post is deleted after some time, just know that I felt cringey. YOLO.

You lost count of which round it was as your consciousness had left your brain as soon as you took the first hit. You were rolling your hips on top of a whimpering overstimulated mess called Scud lying half-upright on the couch of your tiny apartment in the warehouse where you worked for Blade. Scud's arms are weakly holding your hips, the head is fallen back on the throw pillows, and some of the hair strands are stuck to his sweaty pretty fucked out face. His eyes are half closed, mouth babbling something inaudible, that used to be pleadings an hour ago.

This evening could've been the same as others if Scud hadn't offered you pot again while you both were working on the tech stuff Blade needed so much for his next mission.

“How the hell can you work stoned?” you asked irritated as this kind of ‘ritual’ when the guy offered you smoking was always repeating day after day. And your answer was always 'no'.

“C’mon baby, you’re always so tense and serious. Why don’t you let yourself relax?” Scud answered in a muffled drawl keeping a blunt between his lips while he was soldering a circuit.

And the reason for it was having a really bad crush on him. A workplace romance wasn’t what you planned as Blade paid you much. So a one-time stand with the colleague you fell for was strictly forbidden by yourself. But your pretty obvious ignoring attitude wasn’t helping, let’s say it was even encouraging for Scud. And today was the day you completely gave up. That was true you needed to unwind.

“I want to relax but after I finish programming these microcontrollers,” you sighed concentrating on the code you wrote.

“You’re always saying so,” you heard his desperate and upset voice which you couldn’t handle anymore.

“8:00 PM at my apartment, snacks on you,” you replied after several minutes of silence between you both.

“Hell yeah!” he answered happily, “Baby Scud knows how to relax. You won’t regret it, sweety.”

You were ignoring him though you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach. The rest of the workday you were just only thinking how to quickly spend time with him and send him out of your room until the worst happens.

At 8:00 PM sharp you heard knocks at your door. Opening it you saw smirking Scud holding shopping bags full of food.

“Have you robbed the supermarket? This is the week ration for a family of three,” you said gesturing the man to come in.

“That’s literally us with B,” he winked and went further into the apartment where a big couch and a massive coffee table were standing in front of the wall where some music videos were projected. The room was also lit by a dull light bulb from the kitchenette.

“Don’t be so grumpy, Y/N. Lemme help you switch off,” he put the bags on the coffee table and put out a cigarette case and a lighter from his jeans pockets. “And I don’t know what you like, so…”

You went past Scud and sat down on the couch inviting him to join you.

“Video games, cartoons, films? Any preferences?” you asked looking at the guy picking out a blunt from the case and passing it to you.

“This is your evening, you choose,” he grinned watching you picking the blunt in your fingers and placing it between your lips. Seconds after he lit the blunt and you made a light drag not to cough immediately. You held your breath to let the weed do its work and passed the blunt back to Scud.

“Then let’s watch a film,” you said exhaling and took a remote control to choose one.

You slightly leaned back to the table to light another blunt. Taking a hit you held your breath and leaned forward turning to Scud. You hooked his choker with your finger and pulled his face to yours while you started riding him again. He opened his eyes just a bit, his mouth agape. You leaned closer so your lips barely touched his and slowly puffed the smoke into his mouth. He was inhaling while you felt his cock twitching inside you. You let his choker and laid your arms on his shoulder for steadiness and continued sliding up and down his length. A small whimper left Scud’s mouth.

“Fuck, I love you.”

“You’re high,” you let out an obscene moan feeling you are about to reach your climax.

“Jeez…” Scud suddenly grabbed you tightly to lay you on your back and started thrusting into you.

“Sc…” your mouth was immediately covered with his lips and tongue kissing and licking you sloppily. His thrusts became faster hitting your sweet spot each time. Scud feeling you clenching around him uncontrollably put his thumb on your clit to draw circles applying just perfectly enough pressure.

You started clawing into his back overwhelmed with sensation when suddenly your body exploded with unbearable excitement. Everything became dull, blurred. It’s dinging in your ears, the heart is pumping so fast you thought it would break your ribcage, your whole body is trembling. You were suffocating, drowning in the waves of pleasure.

Almost passing out after your release you felt a sudden emptiness followed by Scud’s moans. Through your half-opened eyes, you saw a lewd scene: panting Scud rolled his head back, his chest heaving, his left hand squizzing the throw pillow, his right arm was tensed as he was stroking himself letting out strings of his warm cum on your lower belly. The scene that you imagined so many times during lonely evenings pleasing yourself. After he finished he plopped himself on the couch and pulled your weak body on top of himself.

“You’ll get dirty,” you said in a tired voice only earning a chuckle from him.

“Let it be the worst thing between us, babe,” he kissed your swollen lips passionately caressing your hair and your back.

#scud fromeyer #joshua fromeyer #josh fromeyer #scud smut #scud x reader #scud blade 2 #blade 2 #norman reedus #Spotify

[angelbaby-fics]

Hi love, how are you! I haven’t been on tumblr much lately but I still love you and your work!! I’ve been dealing with some tough stuff with my health and have been little a lot more lately. Would you write Cg!Ransom as just turning into a melted fit of mush for the reader?Just like absolutely spoiling them and doing whatever they want when they don’t feel good?

Love,

🐣

Daddy's Day Off

Word Count: 750

A/N: Aww hello angel! I'm glad to hear from you again & I hope you're always doing alright 💕 eeep I love Ransom so much, especially in the cold months I just want to cling to him hehehe 💕

It was a busy day full of stressful meetings and Ransom was not at all pleased about it. As much as he loved being extravagantly rich, the people he had to deal with on a daily basis almost made it not worth it. Almost. One thought of you, your bright eyes and contagious smile, and Ransom was reminded that he’d go through hell just to make that happen. He checked the time on his phone, just an excuse to look at the background image really. It was a picture of you and him, a selfie he had taken while you were curled up with him on the couch - he smiled at the camera, but your loving gaze was locked on him. Every time he saw this picture it reminded him what he did it all for.

He couldn’t do it today though, he just couldn’t. You’d had a nightmare earlier, screaming yourself out of slumber in the wee hours of the morning. The rest of the night was spent with you curled up against his chest and him hardly sleeping, dutifully keeping watch on you to make sure you stayed at peace. It broke his heart to close you out of his home office that morning, your rejected face echoing through his head as he tried to focus on today’s planner entries. All he wanted was to be finished with this stupid workday and to spend the rest of it with you. Your love was the only thing that could relieve his stress after a long day of dealing with a bunch of a-holes. Yes, he needed his baby just as much as you needed him. 

To hell with it. Ransom sent a short email to his assistant to cancel all his meetings as he needed to take a personal day. With that, he shut his laptop and tossed his work phone into his desk drawer, nearly slamming it shut. He was so eager to get away from all this and just relax with you. When he opened his office door, he almost expected you to still be there looking up at him with tearful eyes, but like the brave and independent baby he’d raised you to be, you had already begun trying to distract yourself until Ransom was finished with work. 

You knew Ransom didn’t like distractions when he was in work-mode, so although you’d rather spend the day curled up with him just as you’d spent last night, you took it upon yourself to keep occupied. That’s how Ransom found you on the floor of the living room, the massive flatscreen tv playing a marathon of Bluey episodes above you. Every color of crayon was scattered all around you, a pile of already finished drawings stacked upon the coffee table. At the sound of Ransom’s heavy footsteps, your head shot up from your picture of a cat in a garden.

“Daddy, you finished already?” You asked hopefully.

“Daddy got a surprise day off, baby!” He replied, scooping you up into his arms. 

“What are we gonna do?” You asked, looking up at him with more love in your eyes than Ransom thought he deserved in his whole lifetime. 

“Anything you want, babydoll. I’m all yours.” Ransom carried you to the giant sofa, keeping you pressed against his firm chest as he swaddled the two of you together in a big plush throw blanket. 

He handed you the remote, happy to sit through any cartoon or cheesy musical if it meant making you happy. When he heard your tummy rumble after a while, Ransom grabbed the house phone and ordered your favorite pizza, without even needing to ask if you wanted it. He knew you better than he even knew himself. He helped you eat your pizza as you watched tv, something you rarely got to do at the same time. When you finished eating, he carried you to the kitchen to get you dessert and a bottle, not wanting to put you down for even a second.

Hours later, the credits on your second movie of the day were crawling across the screen, and Ransom was sure you were fast asleep, when suddenly he heard your tiny voice muffled through the blankets and his comfy thick sweater.

“Dada?” You asked, even smaller than you’d been this morning.

“What’s up, babydoll?” He whispered down to you.

“You gotta get a day off more often.” You mumbled, drifting into sleep.

“I will, baby. I will.”

#little!reader #ransom drysdale x little!reader #ransom x little!reader #ransom drysdale #cg!ransom #cg!ransom drysdale #daddy!ransom #agere fic #chloe's fic #🐣

[seungiee-sunshine]

{ 1:17 AM }

Paring; Bangchan x reader

wc: 1.6K (1,684 words)

Warnings: handjob, nipple play, public sex/exhibitionism, dirty talk... Name-calling (reader calls chan baby boy, baby, slut), cum eating, dom/sub dynamics, switch!Chan/switch!reader Chan calls the reader mommy, one slap on the cheek (the reader slaps Chan), and the reader is lowkey obsessed with Chan's tits.

Summary: Chan needed some new clothes, and you thought it would be nice to spend some quality time with him. However, a lot more than a little bonding time was in store for the two of you the second he decided to put on a shirt two sizes too small.

It had been a long, tireless workday, and you were ready to fling yourself onto your bed and snuggle up to your stuffies. Stupidly enough, you had promised to go shopping with Chan earlier that day since he was in need of some new shirts. And now here you were, eyes glued to your phone, as you waited for him to change and show you what he had picked out.

Most of his attire was black, per usual, and you were getting slightly irritated that your sleep was wasted on doing nothing but standing around or nodding on occasion. You loved Chan, but all he wore was black, and you could barely tell a difference in the shirts he was showing you.

One might've had a white line or logo from time to time, but other than that, they were all the same. You just wanted to go home and sleep.

However, you knew it would be a bad idea since as soon as Chan would arrive home, he would surely give you a good spanking for running off on him like that. as well as for going back on what you promised.

So you just sighed and sent a thumbs up his way as he strode out of the dressing room, not even caring to look up at what he was wearing, knowing it would be the same old black shirt and black basketball shorts.

Chan seemed to notice your lack of attention and walked up to you, snatching your phone from your hand and dangling it above your head. He was at least two heads taller than you, so there was no way you were getting your phone back unless you jumped. and no way in hell were you jumping in the skirt you had on.

"What's so important about this dinky little thing that you can't even bother to look up at me?" He asked, looking up at your phone screen and chuckling as the losing screen appeared.

"a game? I'm starting to think Felix and Lee know are rubbing off on your love," he stated with a dry chuckle before handing your phone back to you with a mischievous grin. You knew it was because of your reaction to his clothes, but how could you not react?

He was still wearing a simple black shirt, but, oh my Lord, was it tight as fuck on him? His nipples were poking out from the shirt, and you could almost see his abs through the thin material.

He knew all too well that you loved the sight of his abs and pecks. So he chose a shirt two sizes too small just to get you worked up. He was a man with needs, after all, and seeing your plush thighs press together and your body shake from arousal was a turn-on for him.

Your lip was caught in between your teeth, just as your breath was caught in your throat. He looked so delectable in that shirt. You would've loved nothing more than for him to fuck you right then and there. But you knew that, of course, no such thing was going to happen, but boy, could you wish your heart away for it.

You glare up at him, a small primal growl emitting from your throat. It wasn't long before you had dragged the man into the dressing room. making quick work of closing the door and locking it before turning back to your beloved.

"You know what happens when you pull this shit Christopher," you emit as you take a step closer to the now quivering man. He was very much a dom; however, at times like these, he somehow managed to make a drastic switch.

"I know, Mommy, but I can't help it; I just want some of your attention. It's always on that fucking phone of yours. I just-" He was cut off by a harsh slap to the cheek. His eyes watered as he looked up at you, eyes dark and blown out. He may have not expected the slap but he can say that he loved it with every fiber of his being.

"Language, baby boy," you mutter before grabbing ahold of his wrist and pulling him up so he was standing straight. Although making men shrink wasn't something that you considered a talent, most of the men you had been with could agree that it really was something that you perfected to a tee even if you didn't realize it.

"I'm sorry, Mommy, please don't slap me... I'll be a good boy, I promise!" He yelped as you slid your hand down his chest and suddenly grabbed a hold of one of his pecks, squeezing it hard.

Your nails dug into his skin, and he let out tiny mewls as you kneaded the flesh, occasionally pinching his hard nipples and twisting them just a tad bit to see the tears well up in his eyes. Soon enough, your assault on his sensitive chest was done, and your hand now traveled down to his torso, messing with the hem of the shirt as you spoke.

"I know, baby, I know you'll be a good boy for me. I just need you to promise me one more thing." He looked at you with an eyebrow cocked as he silently asked what you wanted from him. A shiver ran up his spine as your hand traveled lower until it reached the waistband of his pants.

You fiddled with the material and pulled it back before letting it go and giggling at the small cries that he let out at the sudden ounce of pain.

"Promise me you won't cum until I tell you to," you whispered into his ear nipping at the skin as you waited for an answer. He shakily nodded, and you smirked up at him before slipping your hand past his waistband and into his boxers.

You almost gasped at how hard he was, surprised that such little stimulation could get him so turned on. You ultimately kept quiet except for a bit of teasing to further humiliate the boy.

"Aw, baby, you’re so hard. I've barely even touched you. Such a sensitive baby." You mock while wrapping your hand around his cock, squeezing it ever so slightly. His body jolted forward at the feeling, a strangled moan erupting from his throat.

He heard your chuckling and decided to try his best to stay composed and quiet due to the two of you being in public, but it was a lot harder to accomplish than he thought. With you pumping his dick and your free hand crawling up his body to play with his hard nipples through the shirt, it was near impossible to keep quiet.

He knew full well what would happen if they were to get caught in here, and even the thought of it embarrassed him to his core. His face was slowly becoming red, and he continued to let out small mewls and pants as you toyed with him and as his mind raced with all kinds of thoughts.

"Baby, we're in a dressing room; you need to be quiet or they'll hear. Or do you want them to?" You inquired before giving his nipple a harsh tug. "You want them to find you here getting teased by your girlfriend, hmm? Such a fucking slut," you spat.

He looked down at you, eyes blown out and full of pure lust. He was so fucked out already, just from all your teasing, he could barely even think straight. All he wanted was to come and feel the sweet bliss of release. but he knew he had to wait...

He was going to be a good boy for you, no matter how much it pained him to push back his nearing orgasm.

After a few moments of slow and torturous tugs, you finally picked up your pace. He whined and allowed his head to fall back and rest against the cold wall, reminding him that he wasn't in the comfort of his own home.

"That's it, baby. Just a little more." You mewled as you watched his face contort. His nose scrunched, and his hands clawed at your soft skin as he got closer to letting go. All he had to do was wait for your permission, and he could cum, but sadly, you were making sure you got your teasing time in. You knew he would fuck you dumb for it later.

but right now it's about him.

After a few more minutes of simply watching him squirm and listening to his pants and quiet moans, you decided it was time to let him have what he wanted.

"Alright, baby boy, go ahead, come for mommy," you commanded while continuing with your brutal pace. Not even a moment later, you felt the thick liquid cover your hand and a low groan come from the man pinned up against the wall.

You gave him a few more strokes to help him ride out his orgasm, chuckling a bit as his body twitched from the overstimulation. You soon removed your hand and sucked the residue off of your fingers before patting Chan on the head.

"Such a good boy. Now, baby, let's head over to register and check out. I think it's about time we head home." You smile, grab the shirts he had put in a neat pile, and go to unlock the door.

You let out a small squeak and dropped the clothes as you felt him grab your hips and pull you back onto his hardening cock.

"We're not going home until you're stuffed full of my cum and begging me to stop."

(A/N: If you read this far, thank you so much. Likes, comments, and reposts are what keep me going, so please be sure to do so. Anywho thanks for reading!)

#stray kids #bang chan #bangchan smut #skz chan smut #skz chan x reader #tw slapping #smuttt #kpop smut #dom reader #skz oneshots

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

The Divine Feminine II - Welcome to Hell (Sneak Peek)

Guuuuuys I was supposed to post this for Halloween but could not finish it since I had a busy weekend and then a busy workday today! However, here is a sneak peek! Hopefully I can finish writing it in the next few days and post it all!

Read: The Divine Feminine** - Amidst his sadness after his wife leaves the Underworld, Hades (Harry) encounters a human woman who brings him to his knees.

No warnings for the sneak peek:)

WC: 1.1k

“You’re everything.” He mumbled against her ear and she tangled their fingers together, “Wish you could be with me forever.” He sighed.

This made her smile. Y/N had never really felt like she had a place in the world. She had always struggled to fit in, to find a place in it where she felt like belonged completely, maybe she wasn’t meant for this earth? But she had no idea what Harry’s world was like. She was curious, but she also realized that in order to be down there she’d have to die and she didn’t want to die. Not yet at least. There were so many things that she still wanted to do and experience…like tornado chase, travel to Europe, or see her favorite band live at least once. As much as she had grown to love him, he was Hades. He transcended time, he was the god of the underworld. He was the ruler of the afterlife, the highest judge in the universe, at the end of their life every single being answered to him for the way they’d spent their time. He was justice. He was vengeance. He was a god. It baffled her that a being as simple and fragile as her could even catch his eye.

“You shouldn’t think so highly of me, love.” He spoke quietly and she smiled.

“And why not?” She inquired.

“You’ll make me too arrogant.” 

“As if you needed any help with that.” She quipped with a grin and he swatted the side of her thigh quickly and she giggled. "You should stop hearing my thoughts." she reminded him.

“I want to show you my world. Everything that I can offer you whenever you’re ready to join me.” He said, completely ignoring her little reminder because of course he was going to continue reading her thoughts.

“What if I’m old and gray by then?” She questioned and he squeezed her tighter.

“I can become old and gray too or restore you to whatever age you desire to be.” He said and she hummed.

“That’s fascinating.”

“It is.” He agreed, “You know, there’s…a spell that can grant you temporary immortality. I could learn more about it and perform it on you, that way you can see everything there is to see.”

“Hmmm… a vacation to hell? Sounds nice.” She said teasingly and he chuckled and kissed her bare shoulder.

“S’paradise too, you know?” He said.

“I thought that was Olympus.”

“No, that’s where most of the other deities live.” He explained and she hummed in understanding.

“Is it dangerous? The spell?” She asked.

“I don’t know, I’ll have to consult Hecate, she’s one of the goddesses that also dwells in the underworld. That’s her area. We can weigh out the pros and cons together.”

“Alright, it’s worth looking into I think.” She decided, “And what about your wife? The first day of Autumn is just two days away.” She pointed out and he hummed.

“I’ll talk to her. Tell her about you. I think she’ll be glad that I’ve found someone other than her to keep me happy.” 

***********

Every time Persephone made her descent back to the realm of the Underworld Hades would throw a bash for her. It was an absolute lavish feast and everyone was a huge part of it, Admittedly, Hades had been very distracted with his favorite, little human so he only had two days to plan this feast whereas before he encountered Y/N, he’d begin planning at least a month in advance.  As soon as Hades arrived back in his realm one of his fellow deities conjured themselves.

“Are we having the feast or not?” Thanatos asked.

“Yes. I know I’ve been gone a lot-”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got it. The dead remain dead, all is in order.” He assured his friend and Hades smiled.

“Thank you.”

“You deserve this. You never have your fun.” He said and Hades chuckled.

“Let’s ummm, make this feast more intimate, yeah?”

“Alright.”

“And ummm, let’s search through Elysium and the Meadows for some musicians. Just the better ones.” Hades said and Thanatos nodded.

“Nyx and Erebos did start setting up the great hall in their home a few days ago.”

“And your brother?”

“Wandering about the world. After you were gone more than a week he also took a leave. We shouldn’t count on him for any of this.” Thanatos said of Hypnos.

“Alright, fair enough.” Hades chuckled.

“I must tell you, Persephone is a bit…unsettled.” Thanatos warned. 

“Why?”

“Hecate overheard Eros bragging about “striking the ruler of the underworld with his arrow to fall in love with a human”. Boastful little prick…” he huffed and Hades sighed, “Ever eager to gossip, Hecate mentioned this to Persephone, or so I’ve been told by Hermes.” Thanatos explained.

“Unbelievable.”

“I told them it was just Eros being a prick. We all know how bitter he still is over Persephone’s rejection all those millennia ago…” 

“Can I be honest?” Hades said and Thanatos nodded.

“Of course.”

“He’s not just being a boastful prick…I think he succeeded.” Thanatos was shocked to hear this. 

Anyone who knew the pair knew that the one with an unwavering and undying devotion in this marriage was Hades. He never even thought to gaze upon another being. And anyone who knew Persephone knew that despite her mostly pleasant and benevolent manner, she had inherited the jealously and wrath of her father, Zeus. She could be cold and senseless in her wrath. Hades knew this and it worried him for Y/N.

“If what you say is true then your human is in danger.” Thanatos said solemnly.

**********

Hades had been unsettled after his conversation with Thanatos. He had mentioned to Y/N that he would be rather busy until Persephone’s return and she fully understood this, but he needed someone to protect her from any possible attacks that his wife might hurl at the unsuspecting and fragile human who had his heart. 

Typically he would call on his own wife or Hecate when something or something required the utmost protection, but these two were the ones who’d been consorting all summer long and likely had turned against him to some extent. Persephone was reasonable, maybe he could convince her to not harm Y/N. But what worried him was that she was all alone on earth without anyone there to guard her. Hades wasn’t all that excellent in his practice of spells, but he did find himself at his altar, performing a spell for Soteria - the spirit of deliverance and protection - for Y/N. Being Hades, the spirit realm was always more susceptible to his wishes. And it gave him peace to know that his offering was accepted. 

#hades!harry styles #hades!harry #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles au #supernatural!harry styles #boss! harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry x y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harryween #0nlythrowharrybeaux

[baby--charchar]

What does Charlies regression look like with lucifer? And how did he find out? Was he insanely supportive or confused?

Charlie has come to love spending time with Daddy when regressed (or 'dada,' age depending). But originally, she never intended for him to find out.

She and Vaggie were just starting to get the hang of it themselves and had no intention of telling others. One night after a LONG workday at the hotel, Vaggie was cooking up supper while Charlie was watching Disney in the main room. She was feeling about 2 or so, and was finally easing into her regression and learning to be content in it.

Cue untimely Lucifer and his ignorance on boundaries. Just has a great new idea on operating focus groups for residents, and barges into Charlie's and Vaggie's room. Well of course there's Charlie smack dab in the middle of the room, her thick hair out of its usual ponytail, pacifier in her mouth, surrounded by baby toys, and wearing a matching red pajama set clearly designed for toddlers. Charlie screamed her fucking head off and Vaggie stormed into the living room thinking she was going to have to kill someone. Alas, it was just poor Lucifer looking confused as hell and now covering his bleeding ears (that demon shriek of Charlie's is again, NO JOKE). Vaggie took control of the situation and shouted at him to leave. No pleasantries and definitely not how she "should" have been talking to the king of hell. But hey, he listened.

When he got back to his room he texted Charlie in a panic.

"Charlie is everything okay?"

"I'm not mad baby, I promise. I didn't mean to scare you. Talk to me."

"Answer me when you can, okay? I love you Charlie."

Back in the girls' room, Vaggie took dinner off the stove to rock poor Charlie in her arms. She was absolutely bawling. Vaggie just held her tight and shushed in her ear trying to get her to soothe. Charlie kept rambling on about how Lucifer was gonna hate her and think she's so gross and she just FINALLY got her dad back in her life just to scare him off. Vaggie just held her tight and tried to get Charlie to focus on her toys and movies. Once she finally settled, she asked her a question.

"Can you let me handle this?"

Charlie nodded after a moment. After Vaggie wrapped up her cooking, and got Charlie settled back in with her sippy cup and movie, Vaggie quietly stepped out.

She charged into Lucifer's room shouting, scaring the fuck out of him.

"AND YOU SEE HOW THAT FEELS?! DID YOU LIKE HAVING ME TEAR YOUR DOOR DOWN?! RUIN YOUR PEACEFUL FUCKING EVENING?! GOOD. I WANT YOU TO REMEMBER THIS MOMENT IF YOU EVEN THINK OF TRYING THAT SHIT AGAIN. NOW SIT YOUR ASS DOWN CUZ WE NEED TO TALK."

She breaks the news to him that yes, her daughter does in fact experience age regression. Basically, her mind goes into a state where it emotionally and cognitively functions like someone much younger than her real age. It's not her fault and she can't always control it, it's just how her mind is processing the immense pressure that she feels. Baby Charlie needs safety, love, and space to be herself no matter how she's presenting. And he was going to give all that to his little girl or...or else, dammit!

Lucifer was so confused. But unlike Charlie's worst fears, he was not disgusted at all. He wanted to know more. He knew Char Char was stressed, but he had no idea how strained she had been feeling. How is this supposed to help her? Can she control it at all? Does she actually enjoy it? Is it making her miserable, or is it really helping her be happy?

Vaggie did her best to answer every question. Eventually though, she could tell that something just wasn't clicking for Lucifer despite trying his hardest to understand. She sighed and pulled put her phone.

"Don't you EVER let her know these exist. You understand? She'd kill both of us if she knew I took these."

A video appeared of Charlie sitting on the floor in her red pajamas, banging on a small xylophone to the beat of a Disney Princess song playing in the background. Her little voice sang along, just barely audible over her clanging. Her grin was so contagious, Lucifer thought. Then a pang of nostalgia engulfed him out of nowhere.

Vaggie swiped and a new video appeared. This time Charlie was toddling around their living room, a stuffed animal held in the crook of her arm and her thumb in her mouth. Vaggie could be heard off screen chuckling.

"Go sit, Char Char. Dinner's almost ready." Charlie grinned at her and started walking over, her uncoordinated steps glaringly obvious.

"No.....no.....! Vee vee's gotta cook! Go sit down on the bed....go sit.... good girl! Good girl." Charlie looked back towards Vaggie and cackled before trying to get up again.

Lucifer's heart was absolutely aching. His daughter looked so sweet. So happy and relaxed, something he hasn't truly seen in ages. She absolutely radiated the same joyous energy that she had as a toddler. And Vaggie just kept swiping. Photos and videos of Charlie finger painting, taking naps in weird spots, sitting in baths with bubbles all the way up to her neck. By the end of it Lucifer was tearing up.

He asked if 1, he could get some of those pictures, and 2, when he could see Charlie again. With Charlie's permission he was able to come back over that night for dinner. Even though Charlie painfully shy, she was clearly fascinated by her daddy being around and wanted him to pay attention to her. Lucifer was happy to brush her hair, pull out toys, and even carry her around all night long.

So yes...both! Insanely supportive after being insanely confused. And it's all thanks to Vaggie sorta taking the lead on caring for and speaking up for Charlie.

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