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#and she just asked me if i want to come over this weekend
Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕
Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?
I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻
Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:
I did my best c: I hope you like it!
Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)
Word Count: 1538
Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?
A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!
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You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else. 
Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places. 
You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.
Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize. 
They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.  
You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in. 
A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to. 
You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much  to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods. 
You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own. 
For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly,  and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things - 
Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s? 
Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous? 
You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.
Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions. 
It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself. 
There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic. 
Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side. 
He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?” 
You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.
“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary. 
“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know? 
“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.” 
“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or  they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.” 
You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?” 
You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “…why would you ask me that?” 
Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.” 
You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad. 
 “I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just…” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper. 
“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew. 
You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?” 
Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face. 
Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?” 
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cameronspecial · 3 days
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how about we go a lil angsty? the reader hadn’t yet told him about her being pregnant bcs she remembers Drew once said he doesnt know if he wants to be a dad and so she tried to bring the topic up with hypothetical questions and his answers not exactly the thing she wanted to hear so she went all silent and pulled herself away and stuff.
I dont wanna give it away, so please you decide the ending..either they communicate and Dad!Rafe rise or…
I Want This
Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of Abortions and Miscommunication
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.2K
Masterlist
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Well… She doesn’t know what she expected the results to be, but this is definitely an answer. Y/N doesn’t even think she can focus on the opinion she has of this situation because all she can think about is Drew’s.
———
“Awww, Babe, look at this pic of Lils that Mac sent me,” he gushed, holding his phone up to his fiancée. She looked up from her laptop, “So cute. Ugh, I miss them so much. I mean look at those little baby rolls. I just want to cuddle the cutie.” He smiled and brought her head under the crook of his neck. “I know. We have to visit them soon. I’m so glad I have a niece. It means I can be the fun uncle forever and never have to be a dad,” he mindlessly thought out loud, going back to scrolling on his phone. This caused her to freeze; they never talked about having kids, but he was so good with them that she assumed he would want them. She should’ve asked him about it because she wanted them. She didn’t though. Kids were important to her and so was Drew. She wasn’t ready to cause a rift in their relationship because of something small. 
———
Staring at the positive pregnancy test, she has to figure out a way to gauge how he would feel about it before actually telling him the truth. Once she knows how he feels, it will help her decide how she wants to feel about it seeing that if they are on the opposite page, then she would have to make a difficult decision. She shoves the positive tests into the box and hides them in her makeup drawer. He never goes looking there. She exits the bathroom, lets out a deep breath, and heads to the kitchen to start getting lunch ready. Drew is coming home from filming in Morocco later today. The music blasting through the speakers makes her unaware of the new presence in the house. He smiles at the dancing silhouette cutting potatoes. His hand drops over her eyes and she sets the knife down with a grin. Her arms wrap around her neck to bring him down towards her. This allows her to pepper his face with kisses. “Hey, you weren’t supposed to be back until tonight,” she notices, turning the music off. His hand rests on her hip, “I was, but I was offered an early flight and I couldn’t say no to seeing my girl early. I missed you and I love you.” She sinks into his hold. “I missed and love you too.”
The couple spend the next half an hour cooking together before settling themselves at the dining room table. Since they talked to each other throughout cooking, silence falls over them. A chime comes from his phone and he checks it to see a text from his sister. “Mac is planning on coming down with Lils and my mom soon. They can stay in the guest room, right?” Drew confirms, reading over the text again. She nods, “Yeah, I’ll get it ready over the weekend and buy one of those travelling crib things for Lils. It is going to be fun to have a baby around the house. The guest room would make a nice baby room in the future. It has nice big windows and the closet is the perfect size.” The chuckle that comes out of his mouth drops her stomach into a furnace. 
“What’s so funny?” she questions. He shrugs, “Not the babysitting part. They could both use a break and I will never say no to spending time with my niece. It’s just the thought of having to turn the guest room into a baby room is funny.” 
“Oh, why?”
“I don’t know. It’s a guest room. I mean where would our family stay when they come over?” 
“Yeah, where would they stay?”
She should probably ask if he meant he can’t imagine the room as a baby room right now or if it was a forever thought; however, she is scared of the answer she is going to get so she shuts down the conversation. They sit in a new tension-filled silence that he pretends he can’t feel. 
———
After lunch, Y/N retreats to the backyard to swing in the hammock. This tells him that she needs some space and he knows she is upset when she is still outside at eleven p.m. The friction of the patio door sliding against each other makes her turn to him. She doesn’t acknowledge his presence, waiting for him to say something. He places the plate of pasta he made for dinner onto the side table beside the hammock. “I found the pregnancy tests,” he states, bringing one of the patio chairs close to her. She freezes and sits up. Her legs swing over the fabric to face him, “How?” “Maddie helped me pick out clay pot Moroccan lipstick for you and I wanted to surprise you with it. I was going to hide it in your drawer…” he explains, eyes falling to his fingers and trailing off at the end. Her head moves up and down. Her thoughts are moving around her head a thousand miles a second. He is going to break up with her. He is going to make her have an abortion. Or worse. He is going to make her choose between the baby or him on the spot. 
He grows nervous when she doesn’t say anything and his suspicions are confirmed. He understands why she is unsure about talking to him about this. The way he has spoken about having a baby in the past could’ve given her the wrong idea. He hesitantly reaches to place a hand on hers and does it when she doesn’t shy away. “I want you to know that the decision about what we do with the baby is up to you and I will be at your side during the whole process,” he assures. Her confusion causes tears to crop up in her eyes, “You don’t want the baby though. I know that, so if you are going to break up with me because I do, then just do it. But making me have to choose is kinda cruel.” His heart squeezes, hating that his words aren’t coming out as he means them to be. His head shakes like crazy and he sits beside her. He brings her head against his chest, “Babe, I don’t want to break up with you. I want to have this baby with you too.”
“You want the baby? Then how come you don’t think the guest room would be a good baby room?”
“Because my office would be a better one. The windows aren’t too big so it won’t wake the baby up in the morning and the closet there is even bigger, so when they get older they can have as many clothes as their heart desires.”
“Okay, you are right… What about when you said you want to be an uncle forever and never be a dad?”
“Honestly, I never really thought I would want to be a dad. I was content with being an uncle, but, Babe, when I found that pregnancy test, all I could think about was how happy I was to be bringing a child into the world with the most amazing woman in the world and I couldn’t wait to raise them with you.”
She leans back and rests a warm palm on his cheeks, trying to hold back her tears. “So you want to have this baby?” she verifies. He kisses the tears away, “I want this, Babe. I promise. We are going to do this. Together.”
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura
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shellshocklove · 2 days
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dirty work | joel miller
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(gif by me)
pairing/AU: daddy!joel miller x female!reader - no outbreak
summary: joel's work has been a bitch the last few weeks and he's tired, but it's nothing you can't fix.
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so minors dni!!! swearing, use of pet names, smut with a dash of fluff, lap sitting, daddy!dom!joel, praise with a dash of degradation, handjob, cockwarming, use of sex toys, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, creampie, no use of y/n
a/n: this is just a short smut idea i wanted to write. minimal editing done here btw so if you see any mistakes, no you didn't 🥰
masterlist / ao3
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At the sound of a key turning, you lifted your head from the couch pillow.
Tapping at your phone resting on your chest, you noticed it was an hour later than he’d promised – not that you were surprised. Joel hadn’t been home earlier than nine o’clock for weeks as his new client had turned out to be on another level of demanding and indecisive. Every morning he’d woken up before six and left you with a kiss to your forehead long before your own alarm would ring.
Finally home, his heavy work boots scraped against the tiles in the hallway, before you heard the thud of his tool bag hitting the floor followed by a tired sigh. Pushing yourself to rest on your elbow you peeked over the armrest of the couch.
“Did the wife change her mind again?” you asked in a raised voice, lowering the volume on the reality show you’d been half-watching since dinner.
With heavy footsteps he padded into your living room and an ache settled in your chest as you took him in. His hair was ruffled and messy, and his eyes drooped at the corners. With a groan Joel dropped down next to you on the couch. Shifting your weight to sit up properly, you moved your blanket a little out of the way to move closer to your tired man. He didn’t answer right away, his palms coming up to rub at his eyes as an exasperated sigh escaped his lips.
“That goddamn woman had her sister visitin’ this weekend ‘nd now she wanna change everythin’, again.” He breathed out another heavy sigh, before his palms came down on his thighs with a dull smack!
“Are you serious?” you shook your head and shifted even closer, your knees brushing against his denim clad thigh.
“’m afraid so, baby,” he said and let his head fall against the back of the couch, his eyes trailing a pattern in the ceiling.
Shifting on your knees you sunk into his side, letting your head fall to rest on his shoulder, while you snaked your hand across his broad chest to pull him closer in a hug. Almost like a reflex Joel lifted his arm to wrap around you.
“Can’t you let Tommy take the lead on this project? This much work isn’t healthy, Joel,” you spoke into his t-shirt, breathing in that familiar smell of him – the smell of faded cologne, sawdust and sweat.
“If I wanna get fired, maybe. Tommy already offended that woman weeks ago sayin’ some shit about how indecisive she was– not that he was wrong but…” he trailed off, instead he hooked his arm under your knees to pull your legs over his lap. Tilting your head slightly you watched his eyes, how they fixated on his hand now resting over the thick of your thigh, his finger brushing small circles over the fabric of your lounge wear as thoughts swiveled in his head.
“Anyway, it’ll be done in a few weeks– I just gotta push through and it’s good money,” he concluded after a beat, his hand flexing before coming down on your thigh in a small pat.
You hummed, squeezing him closer to your body. “I just wish you didn’t need to work so hard– I’ve missed you.”
You felt the softest touch of a kiss to the top of your head at your confession, and it made a smile wash over your features. “I’ve missed you too, baby.” Joel said, his voice muffled through more presses of small light kisses.
His hand resting over your thigh traveled up your body, like he was trying to remember what you felt like again. A calloused finger landed under your chin, the pad rough from a lifetime of hard work, to tilt your head upwards. A smile tugged at your lips, and you knew what he wanted. Locking eyes with him, the world seemed to bleed at the corners, before it all seemed to focus on nothing but him when he dipped down to brush his lips over yours. You keened into him, keened into his touch, keened into the way his mustache tickled your cupid’s bow in just the right way.
“Missed you real bad.”
The deep rumble of his voice vibrated through your body, igniting a want that had laid dormant all these weeks. A content breathy sigh escaped your lips when he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing over the seam of your lips to lick into your mouth. Grasping for something to tether yourself to, your hand found the thick muscle of his bicep.
When you’d both stolen each other’s breaths for too long, Joel started pressing kisses down your jaw to the column of your neck – nipping at the sensitive skin before soothing it over with his tongue.
“Want ya so bad, baby– missed that tight pussy around my cock.”
You whined at his confession, your body involuntarily squirming as the deep bass in his voice whispering in your ear, sent shivers down your spine.
“Missed you too,” you managed to breathe out, “Missed you too, Daddy.”
A deep groan rumbled in Joel’s chest when that word fell from your lips, and soon he’d hooked a hand under your leg to hoist you into his lap. A giggly squeal fell from your lips at his manhandling, but you couldn’t deny how much it turned you on – to let him have his way with you, to let him take what he wanted, what he needed.
Less than a second later, his mouth was on you again, his lips pressed hard against your own as both his hands fell to rest over your ass. Under you, you felt the familiar shape of his cock harden, and you couldn’t help but buck your hips, feeling a surge of arousal pool in your tummy.
“There you go, sweetheart, good girl,” he mumbled between kisses, urging you on “grind on Daddy’s cock, baby, that’s it– just like that.”
Wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself, you broke away from his lips. The building pleasure felt so good already, and you had to duck your face into his neck to hide the small whines from falling from your lips. A heavy hand came down on your back, to hold you closer as he soothed over your skin.
It all felt so good, Joel felt so good, so safe. The rough denim of his jeans rubbed perfect over your clit, and you could feel the pressure of an orgasm coiling in on itself in your core.
Chasing that high, your movements got slightly needier, not as practiced and steady, and Joel sensed the shift in you. “Good girl, baby– you’re such a good girl for Daddy,” he praised, the words tickling your ear. He knew just what to say to make you wet, and needy for him. The gusset of your panties now soiled in your dripping arousal.
“Please, Daddy,” you whimpered, but you didn’t know what for. For him to allow you to cum? For him to have his way with you? For him to fuck you? All of the above?
“Please, what, honey? What’d you need?” Joel coaxed; his voice laced with condescending pity.
“Please, I need to feel you– feel your cock inside,” you whined into his neck, any modesty inside you had melted away as soon as he’d pulled you into his lap.
“Yeah?” he murmured gently, and you could only nod – your brain too empty to focus on anything other than Joel. “But Daddy’s tired, baby, he’s had a long day.”
The whine escaping you made Joel laugh, the deep rumbling of his laugh vibrated against your chest. He was playing with you, you knew that, but it had been so long since you’d been fucked by him – over a week – and desperate didn’t even begin to cover how you felt right now.
“I’ll tell ya what, pretty girl, Daddy’s got an idea,” he told you, with a gentle smack! to your ass. You sat up a little and shifted yourself down his thighs slightly, before your eyes, laced with curiosity, found his dark ones. “Why don’t you go get the wand from our bedroom, and Daddy’ll take care of ya, huh?” he posed; his large hand cupping your cheek.
“O-okay,” you nodded, a little confused about his plans. Didn’t he just say he wanted you?
There was no need in questioning him. You already knew whatever idea he had in store for you tonight, he’d make you feel good. So, like the good girl you wanted to be, you did as you were told.
When you got back to the living room Joel were still sat in the same spot on the couch, but in your absence he’d undone his jeans. With one arm slung over the back of the sofa, his legs spread wide, he watched you as he wrapped a large hand around himself to stroke at his impressive cock in lazy strokes.
“Come sit in my lap, baby,” he gestured with his other hand.
Just as you were about to straddle him again, he stopped you with a hand on your hip; his finger hooking roughly into your sweatpants.
“Off,” he ordered and took the wand from your hand.
Again, like a good girl, you did as you were told.
Turning around a small giggle fell from your lips when you decided to put on a little show for him. Slowly, and teasingly, you hooked your fingers into the elastic of your sweatpants, pulling them down slowly to reveal your underwear while you wiggled your ass sightly back and forth. A knuckle brushed over the curve of you; making you jump from the sudden touch before a smile blossomed across your face.
“Pretty, baby,” you heard him murmur, “such a pretty girl.”
Then his finger hooked into the elastic of your panties to pull them down to expose your wet and needy cunt for him. Biting down on your bottom lip, you fought to hide the moan threatening to escape when you felt the wide pad of his thumb run from your hole down through your slick folds, spreading you apart for him.
“Lookit this pretty pussy– it wants some attention, doesn’t it? It’s drippin’ for me and I ain’t even touched it yet– poor thing.” Joel said it softly, but there was still with a hint of condescension in his voice, “Been so long since Daddy’s taken care of you, hasn’t it?”
You grinded your ass into his hand, “Yes, please touch me, Daddy.” Looking at him over your shoulder, you put on your best puppy-eyes and exaggerated pout. Maybe it was over the top and silly, but it pulled a breathy laugh from Joel.
“Alright, pretty girl,” he conceded, and wrapped a large hand around your waist to turn you around.
“Come here… Spread those pretty legs apart f’me.”
He pulled you down in his lap, your legs spreading wide across his thick thighs and putting your dripping core on full display for him. Small currents of electricity cursed through you as your whole body buzzed with anticipation of what would come next. Of what Joel’s idea was. Flitting your eyes nervously to the wand he’d tossed aside beside him, your head spun, conjuring up all kinds of dirty scenarios.
When Joel was pleased with how you were seated in his lap, his right hand came up to cup your chin and angle your face towards him. His dark eyes shone with lust, but it was clouded over like a veil; you knew him well enough at this point to recognize the affection behind it. Like a reflex it made the corner of your lips pull up into a smile, a smile straining against his loose grip on your chin.
“What you smilin’ about, huh?” he questioned, head tipping in a curious tilt.
“Nothing,” you smiled.
“Nothin’, huh? Don’t look like nothin’ to me,” he shook your head playfully with no real force; just moving your head in his hand.
“Just love you is all,” you shrugged. It was the truth after all.
Your confession pulled a smile over Joel’s face; the dark black in his eyes giving way for a lighter loving brown for just a second.
“I love you too, baby,” he said and leaned forward to place a quick peck to your lips.
He pulled away too quickly for your liking and you whined, chasing after his lips, but Joel only chuckled at you, keeping your chin cupped in his hand. Leaning closer to your face again, you thought he’d grant you another kiss, your pathetic whining having won him over. Instead, he bumped his nose against yours and whispered against your lips, “Touch my cock, baby.”
A breath hitched in your throat, the low rumble of his voice searing through your body and making your blood run hot with arousal. It clouded your mind, and you almost had to take a second to understand what he’d just told you. Joel turned you on so bad, the bubbling warmth of arousal in your core now having turned into an almost painful ache. You didn’t want him anymore, you needed him.
When your brain finally caught up, your hands moved by their own accord, wrapping one around his aching cock, while the other steadied yourself on his shoulder. His cock was so big, always so big. The first time he’d had you on your back, you’d wondered how it was even gonna fit inside you, but now, now your cunt ached to be filled by him just at the sight of him in your hand.
Joel fell back against the couch cushions, the hand on your chin travelling down your body to rest over the thick of your thighs. “That’s right, baby, you take that cock in your hand, that’s a good girl,” he praised, while his fingers traced encouraging shaped into your bare skin, “Spit on Daddy’s cock– get it nice and wet.”
Leaning forward slightly you let a blob of spit spill from your lips and drip down to coat his thick head. Your eyes were laser focused on your task at hand, wanting nothing more than for Joel to feel good after such a stressful few days. Skating your thumb over the head, you mixed your spit with the precum that had started to pearl at his tip. It dripped down over your hand, and you tightened your grip slightly before you started moving your hand.
Up and down. 
Mesmerized at the movement of your hand and the wet squelch filling the air between you as you jerked your hand in a steady rhythm, you did your best to make him feel good.
“Just like that– that’s a good girl,” Joel praised in between strained grunts.
You had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep a wide grin to blossoming across your face as every small grunt and praising encouragement circled around your heart in a dizzying warmth. You touched him how you knew he liked it, setting a steady pace but also making sure to grip him a little tighter at the base, and massage the tip between strokes. You were detriment to make him come. He deserved it, you quietly decided to yourself.
Joel must’ve not agreed with you, because suddenly he was pulling your hand away, “That’s enough for now.”
The pout was on your lips before you knew it, and as soon as Joel noticed he raised an unimpressed eyebrow at you.
“No pouting, or Daddy’ll have to punish you,” he reprimanded, his hand on your thigh gliding over your skin to cup your ass in a tight grip. You jumped at the sudden touch, before you grinded your ass into his hand. It made Joel shake his head.
“Stand,” he ordered suddenly with a tap to your ass cheek, “and turn ‘around f’me.”
You let him maneuver you however he wanted, and soon you were sitting – half-way laying – with your back resting against his chest while he rocked his hard cock between the seam of your ass.
“Listen up,” he spoke into your ear, and you had to contain yourself to not squirm in his lap. “You’re gonna sit nice and pretty on Daddy’s cock and let Daddy have a little fun with this toy of yours– ain’t that sound good?” he cooed.
You couldn’t do anything other than nod, your head twisting into his neck. You felt like you were starting to burn up from the inside from the arousal that had continuing to build and build and build.
“Nuh-uh, need your words, pretty girl,” he said with a tap to your waist.
“Yes,” you breathed out, “please, Daddy! I’ll let you do whatever you want.”
You knew those words were the ones he wanted to hear. It was why the sex with Joel was as great as it was. You understood quickly that the control he wanted, the control he took, in the bedroom gave him a break from a stressful and unpredictable world. He craved it just as much as you craved for him to take it. You trusted him like no other human you knew; he knew you better than yourself, knew where your limits were, and how to push them just right.
After you sigh of consent, everything after was a blur of pleasure. He helped you lower yourself inch by inch down on his cock. The stretch of him always overwhelming, as the thick girth of him split you open in a delicious burn.
“That’s a good girl,” he praised in your ear, the words like sweet honey. “Feels good doesn’t it, baby?”
With him fully seated inside you, you could finally breathe. Nodding in a sigh of delirious pleasure, you reveled in the bliss of being so close to him, to feel the strong grip of his arm around you, and his large cock inside. In Joel’s arms, your thoughts and stress of the dying day, wilted away.
After a beat, you pulled yourself together and shifted in Joel’s lap; ready to start moving on his cock. His grip around your torso tightened at your movement, his breath tickling the back for your ear.
“What did I tell you, baby? Told you to sit nice and pretty on Daddy’s cock, didn’t I?” he reprimanded.
You didn’t have time to tell him you were sorry – you thought he wanted you to make him come – before he’d pressed the head of the wand hard against your neglected clit. You jumped in his arms from the sudden stimulation, your cunt clamping around his cock as a small squeal escaped you from surprise.
“Shh, sweetheart,” he cooed in your ear, “you can take it baby.”
You couldn’t, actually.
Not a second later, the intensity of the vibration had you coming on his cock. All the pent-up teasing, breaking like a dam of an orgasm, washing over you.
“There you go– squeeze your cunt on Daddy’s cock, let me feel you come all over it like a good slut.” You almost didn’t hear Joel over the overwhelming ecstasy of your first orgasm of the night.
Turning down the vibrations slightly Joel let you come down to earth again, but he never pulled the wand from your cunt. He made sure to hold it steady, easing up on the pressure with slow circles, before he pushed it a little firmer against your clit again.
“This is Daddy’s pussy, isn’t it?” he spoke into your ear, voice low and husky.
“Yes,” you whispered with a rock of your hips, “all yours, Daddy.”
Taking the hint, he turned up the vibrations again. It was intense, all your effort concentrated on the feel of Joel’s cock filling you up so perfectly while he quickly brought you closer to the edge of another orgasm. You couldn’t do anything other than take it – take what he was giving you, take the filth he was spilling into your ear.
“Y’hear how wet you are, baby? Your pussy soakin’ Daddy’s cock?” he emphasized with a shallow trust of his cock inside you  – the first movement of his cock since you’d sat down on him.
“Such a naughty little slut.”
“Is that too much f’you, sweetheart?”
With no warning you were coming again, your body trembling in his lap as Joel hushed your whiny moans and breathy mewls.
“Oh, my pretty girl’s comin’ again? Already? Don’t take much does it?” he chuckled.
A heat of embarrassment coated your cheeks at his degrading words, the realization of his words catching up with you as you came down. With a bite to your bottom lip, you leaned back into his neck. To hide? You didn’t know, but Joel wouldn’t have it either way. Sitting up a little a hand wrapped around your chin in a steady grip, angling your head to look between your spread legs.
“Nuh-uh, you watch what Daddy’s doing to his pussy.” He emphasized his words with a hard press of the wand to your clit, making you moan loudly. Your pussy looked a mess. Slick wet arousal had gathered in the thatch or hair at the top of your mound, the head of the wand glistening with you as Joel moved it expertly over your poor puffy clit.
“You’re gonna give Daddy another one, we clear?”
“O-okay,” you managed to stutter out. The intensity of the vibrations combined with your ever-increasing sensitivity now almost too much to handle.
“Repeat it,” he ordered, circling the wand perfectly over your clint.
A strangled moan escaped your throat before you could let a single word out. “I’m gonna come again for you, Daddy.”
“Yes, pretty girl, that’s right,” he confirmed with a rock of his hips. The tip of his cock nudged perfectly against your spot inside, and with the way he circled the wand, you were already tethering on the edge.
“But you come only when Daddy says. Wanna feel that that perfect pussy come as I fill you up with my cum– because that’s what you need isn’t it? Daddy’s cum inside?”
“Yes,” you moaned in a hitching breath.
He was so mean for making you talk when you were this close to tipping over again for him. Gathering all your self-control you held on for dear life to not come before Joel had given you permission. You gripped a hand around his elbow, your hand moving with his as you felt the vibrations from the wand travel through you. You were squirming now, and you were sure that if you didn’t come in the next few seconds you’d die.
In your ear Joel’s heavy breaths got more labored. “Y’want Daddy to fill up this messy pussy with his cum?”, he panted in your ear, his hips rocking into yours, “Then you have to be a good little slut and come again f’me.”
As the last syllable left his lips, everything melted together in a mixture of Joel. Squirming in his lap, you clenched hard around his cock as you came. The slick of your numerous orgasms dripped from your hole split opened by his cock, and down the heavy sack of his balls.
“That’s it,” he praised, “That’s a good girl– take all that cum inside.” His cock twitched as he emptied himself inside your cunt, painting your walls and finally filling you up with his cum like he’d promised. You had no choice but to take it – not that you’d wanted it anywhere else.
When your breath started to come back to normal, and your heartbeat slowed, you managed to tap tiredly at Joel’s hand. He was still pressing the wand to your clit making you squirm away from the vibrations – this time it was too much.
“Joel,” you warned in a high-pitched voice.
Joel loved to push your limits, but he was never cruel about it. With an endearing chuckle, he turned the wand off and tossed it aside on the couch cushion before he wrapped both his hands around you.
“I think I could’ve pushed another from ya,” he teased with a playful bite to your ear.
Inside you, you could feel his cock softening as his heavy release started to drip out down the length of him.
With a breathy laugh you leaned deeper into his chest,
“You can always push another from me.”
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i hope someone liked this? if you did a comment, reply or an ask is always welcome and they make me super happy <3 other than that thank you for reading!!
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claymorexpunisher · 2 days
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I'll Shut You Up (18+ Fic) (Ch. 2/?)
Pairing(s): Rhea Ripley/Fem. Reader
Disclaimer: This is NSFW. If that's not your thing, keep scrolling. I try to tag my work appropriately and if you still choose to click and read, do so at your own discretion. Thank you for the love, always, and I hope you enjoy!
Summary: It’s pretty well known that Rhea and Fem. Reader can’t stand one another. Reader thinks Rhea’s way cockier than she should be and Rhea thinks as highly about Reader as much as she thinks about the dirt at the bottom of her boot. Well… so they say, at least. A packed hotel mishap forces them to bunk together, and Rhea presses her luck by running her mouth.
Fic Tag(s): 18+, enemies to hatefucking, forced proximity, overbooked hotel, WM weekend, Bottom Sub!Rhea, Dom Top!Reader, bratty!Rhea, a little bit of oral (Rhea receiving) anal play/penetration, size difference, strap-on, nipple play, hair-pulling, spit for lube (I KNOWWW IM SORRY), begging, spanking, biting, slapping, choking.)
Chapter Word Count: 1,739
Prev Chapter
Because fate is a cruel asshole, I got exactly what I didn’t want.
“Absolutely fucking not.” I repeated, this time louder, my hands clenched so hard around the handle of my suitcase that my hands shook.
I watched Rhea’s smirk widen even more; she was clearly taking pleasure in my obvious irritation.
“I’m not sharing a room with you.” I spat once I shut the door behind me and I walked further into the room.
“Not like you have a choice, sweetheart.” Rhea replied, cool as a cucumber in bed.
The sheets covered her lower half until she decided to peel them back and saunter over towards me just to give me a condescending pat on the head as she toward over me, laughing at the way I glowered at her.
As I broke are stare-off, my eyes mistakenly wandered over her muscled frame, over her black sports bra and I stopped short- no pun intended- at her v-shaped underwear that quite literally left zero to the imagination.
“Eyes up here, cutie.” Rhea purred.
Her pointer and middle finger slowly lifted my chin and her eyes sparkled even as I batted her hand away and frowned deeper.
“I know I’m a sight for sore eyes but-”
“Oh my god. Do you ever shut the fuck up?!” I yelled as I rolled my eyes and shouldered past her with my luggage and I heaved the dark blue suitcase onto the couch a few feet from the bed.
“You always say that. And yet…” My skin prickled as I heard her coming up behind me and her warm breath ghosted over my ear as she murmured, “…and you’ve not made a single attempt to make me.”
There.
She’d used two of the magic words you could throw at a Dom Top and I began to salivate before I pulled myself back.
Barely.
“But then again, I don’t see how tiny little thing like you could possibly even try.” She laughed.
This time I decided I wasn’t gonna let her get the best of me.
“I don’t think you really want me to sort you out, sweetheart.” I replied, letting her see my words for what they were.
“Ooh, but I think I do.” Rhea replied with a slightly raspy giggle, gasping softly as her eyes landed on my open suitcase.
I was taking out my pj’s, completely forgetting about the red strap-on dildo that I had wrapped in plastic and stuffed onto the side of my suitcase.
“What are you doing with that?!” She asked, shock laced her tone.
Shock that irritated me to no end, but again, I remained calm.
Right then and there, I decided that enough was enough.
If Rhea was gonna keep baiting me, then like any effective Dom Top, I’d bite.
I’d bite until she yielded just like any brat eventually did if you push the right buttons.
“What do you think I’m doing with it? Putting a sock over it and making puppet shows on my spare time?” I retorted.
I watched Rhea’s hand reach around me towards the toy and I let her snatch it.
I was gonna let her have her fun for now…
While I continued sorting out my toiletries and picking my pjs, I stole a glance behind me, watching her inspect the toy.
I was immediately plagued my filthy thoughts of shoving that toy down Rhea’s throat until tears pooled in her eyes, making it nice and wet for what I was going to do her, and it was all I could do to not clench my thighs.
Once again, I was caught staring at the Aussie woman and our eyes met.
That damn persistent and infuriating smirk was back on her lips as she put the toy back where it was, but I set aside along with its harness.
“Who’s gonna use that on you? Because I really don’t see a tiny little thing like you using it on anybo-” Rhea’s words cut off as I interrupted, but I didn’t bother verbally answering her question.
“You walk around like you’re hot shit. Like you’re Hunter’s golden child… and I almost can’t blame you entirely. The way he’s paraded you around and talked big game about you…” I chucked and turned around to face Rhea, noticing the small step she took backwards.
Yeah, I was definitely starting to figure this woman out…
I reached out and pulled her towards me by her the elastic of her underwear.
I smirked a little as I watched and felt Rhea’s stomach muscles flex as she inhaled sharply.
“But you’re nothing more than a delusional shot at redemption and absolution for him. Absolution from his sins against someone he can no longer apologize to. You are the living embodiment of his guilt and regret. That is all you are to him. And deep down I think you know that… But he’s put so much energy and time into you and you… for as much as you say you’re no longer a people-pleaser-” I looked up at Rhea sharply, sensing that she was going open her smart mouth and I wasn’t wrong.
I was pleased to watch her mouth snap shut as soon as steely gaze met hers.
“Yes, I’ve watched some of your interviews, I’m not dumb. I study everyone in this locker room nowadays. Especially you.- And you walk around like you’re this… this alpha female. But you’re nothing more than an insecure little brat who needs the validation and a lot of attention and you don’t know how else to get it, so you’re completely okay with cosplaying as someone for some applause and attention and praise from your boss or from the fans. And now that I think about it, maybe even from me.” I continued and I noticed a switch flip at that, as if I’d hit a nerve.
But still, she said nothing.
Hm. Boring.
“You walk around as if being hand-picked by someone like him is some type of flex. Sweetheart, if you were sick and tired of cosplaying as a big, bad and Dominant woman when what you really want and need is to be in your place, then all ya had to do was ask.” My voice was down to a mere whisper. I watched goosebumps raise on Rhea’s skin as my fingers continued to explore the skin on her abdomen with every word I hissed at her.
Her momentary obedience was short lived and her eyes became furious.
Red-hot anger burned in them, along with something else entirely underneath that she seemed to try to smother.
But I was nothing if not observant…
All of it fueled me.
I drank it all up, and my eyes glinted in amusement now as her hips bucked a little and she silently urged my hand lower as if her body had a mind of its own and as if her anger was propelling her actions.
But I didn’t give her what she wanted.
Not yet at least.
The hand that was on the waistband of her panties slowly snaked upwards again, and my thighs became slick with my arousal as Rhea let out an involuntary sound that was a cross between a whimper and a growl.
“Fuck. You. You don’t know me-” Rhea snipped, eyes blazing with fury but I swiftly interrupted.
“Neither do you.” I replied sharply.
My traveling hand suddenly came upwards to grip her neck, not quite cutting off her breathing as much as cutting off the rant I knew was on its way.
The way she froze and suddenly went pliant fascinated me… and it just proved my points.
“You’re nothing but a carbon copy of someone else. I mean look at you, Rhea.” I said as my other hand went up to fiddle with a strand of her dyed hair.
“You have no idea who you are. Who you really are. You’re all bark and no fucking bite. Playing the role of someone else even when the cameras are offand I’m sick of it.” I growled. “I promise you, I could have you squealing like the fuckin virgin you seem to think I am, in .5 seconds.” I chuckled as her eyes widened for a fraction of a second.
Some of that cocky defiance returned to Rhea’s eyes but I could tell it was half-hearted.
But it fueled me just as much.
“Show me, then. Show me who I am… put me in my place.” Rhea purred, her tone and gaze seductive as she gazed down at my lips and back up at my eyes.
She then took advantage of the fact that my hand slackened a bit in surprise.
She was quick, but I was quicker and I moved my head before Rhea could sink her teeth into my bottom lip and I my hand squeezed a tad bit harder and I watched her struggle not to go completely pliant.
She was definitely a stubborn one but I didn’t mind.
From her demeanor alone I could tell that she was goading me some more, not quite believing that I’d deliver on my promise yet curious to find out if I would.
“Okay… then how do you want me, ma’am?” Rhea shot back sarcastically as she walked towards the bed once I let go of her throat.
“Like this?” She asked as she crawled onto the bed, back arched and her ass up in the air, inviting me to spank it so I did just that.
I chuckled as her body jolted and she gave a yelp as both my hands cracked down on each of her ass cheeks as soon as she settled down behind her on my knees.
“That works, actually. Hands behind your back.” I commanded.
Of course she didn’t immediately comply, so I did it myself, holding at least one of her wrists over her back.
“Fuck! I hate you-” She began to rant as I pulled her panties down and I brought my hand down on her ass again and again, until her ass cheeks turned the gorgeous red I had envisioned.
Her body trembled even as she fought and I could see her pussy glistening with arousal.
I stole a look into her eyes and noticed them becoming glassier by the second and that made satisfaction and arousal course through my veins, hitting the spot just as much as a delicious pot of my morning fucking coffee...
Next Chapter
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bellaxgiornata · 2 days
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Falling For the Devil [Part ninety-four: "The Offer"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: Karen, Marci, and you go shopping for the upcoming gala.
Or
Karen presents you with an interesting offer.
[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.] [FFTD Series Masterlist]
Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut, violence
a/n: So I split this part off of the gala smut installment that will be coming up next because I didn't want the smut to overshadow everything else. But hey, that means more installments! Also, tumblr is messing with my tag lists again so I apologize if they aren't working properly. Feedback is always appreciated!
Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @linamarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @pazii @kezibear @sleepysleepymom @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @babygirlmurdock @theoraekenslover @wanda-maxamommy @justanerd1
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Picking up a fairly simple shoe from the display shelf that had caught your eye, you warily examined the three inch heel on the back of it. You didn't want to get anything that looked too dangerous for you to walk in at the gala this weekend, afraid you'd only end up embarrassing Matt and yourself if you did. Walking in heels certainly wasn’t your strong suit and you weren’t about to pretend that it was just to look a certain way in order to fit in at the event. But while you stood there studying the shoe in your hands, turning it from side to side inspecting it, a bright gold heel appeared in your line of sight. Your eyes immediately widened at the stiletto heel next to the slightly more sensible shoe in your hand. 
“I hope you're showing me that as an option for yourself, Marc,” you said, glancing up at her beside you. “Because I would absolutely break my neck wearing those.”
Marci scoffed, rolling her eyes at you. “Oh please,” she replied. “You wouldn't break your neck in these.”
You shot her a pointed look, a brow arching up onto your forehead. Slowly you watched as her expression shifted to one of doubt and uncertainty, her eyes dropping back down to the heel in her hand. Eventually she let out a defeated sigh, the heel lowering back to her side.
“Okay, it's likely you might sprain your ankle in them,” she conceded. “But then Matt could just carry you around all night, right? Do you really mean to tell me you wouldn't want that?”
“I'd rather him carry me around under different, less embarrassing circumstances,” you told her. “Not because I bought six inch heels that are the width of a toothpick under the assumption that I could spend an evening walking in them. Because we all know I can’t.”
“Fine,” Marci relented.
She turned, walking away to put the shoe back on the display shelf from where she’d found it. Your attention returned to the black heel in your hands as you once more contemplated your ability to survive in them for an entire evening. They didn’t look too intimidating–especially after the heel Marci had just suggested. 
“What about these?” Karen asked.
Glancing over your shoulder at the sound of her voice, you focused on the deep red heels she was holding up in her hand. They were stunning, you had to admit it. The color wasn't anything too crazy bright so it wouldn't stand out horribly against the black dress you'd already bought earlier today. Plus, they were almost the exact same shade of red as Matt’s Daredevil suit, a detail you figured he'd probably enjoy even if he couldn't see them himself. 
“You don't have to get black shoes just because the dress you bought is black,” Karen pointed out. “And the heels on these don't look too scary do they?”
“No,” you answered slowly, setting down the shoe in your hand and turning towards her. “They don't.”
You stepped over to where she’d been standing, reaching a hand out and accepting the heel from her outstretched one before examining it closer. She was right, they truthfully didn't look all that intimidating in comparison to most of the other heels in this high end store. Certainly more manageable than the gold heel Marci had just suggested. 
“Ohh, I like those,” Marci said, appearing over your shoulder and eyeing the shoe. “Definitely not too plain. I prefer these over those black ones you were just looking at. Nothing wrong with adding a little bit of color.”
“Okay, then. You’ve both convinced me,” you told them. “I’ll see if they have a pair in my size.”
With the shoe in hand, you made your way over towards a rather bored looking sales associate and asked for your size. Briefly they disappeared into a back room, eventually returning a minute later with the nicest shoe box you'd ever seen in your life. Which probably meant the price on them was something absolutely absurd, but so was the budget Matt had more than graciously given you for your day of shopping today. Something you were still confused about him doing since his sole reasoning was just that he wanted you to enjoy your evening with him at the gala.
Thanking the store associate politely, you took the shoe box and headed back over to the row of chairs near where Karen and Marci were still shopping. But as you neared the pair of them you overheard the loud, almost dramatic sigh that Marci had released. Slowly lowering yourself down into one of the chairs, you raised a brow at her curiously.
“What was that about?” you asked her.
“I have been dying for someone to just bring it up all day–just to touch the topic even once –but no one has. So I guess I’m just going to do it myself,” she answered you. “Are we ever going to address the fact that you’re dating Frank?” 
Her eyes pointedly focused on Karen when she’d asked the question. Karen, who had been eyeing a pair of dark green heels, slowly began to set them back down as Marci’s perfect brows shot up onto her forehead questioningly. Without further pause Marci continued on, clearly determined to cover the topic of Karen’s new boyfriend. 
“Because I've been waiting all day for the opportunity to talk about it, especially with hearing Foggy tell me all week about the office arguments your love life has been causing,” Marci explained. “I figured when I took the day off of work and joined you both for this girl's shopping trip that we would be all over this topic today but no one has brought it up. Not even once. But I mean, you're dating that Frank. You don’t think we want the details? Like… why are you dating him?”
Your eyes flew over to Karen, watching as her shoulders dropped as if she'd been expecting this subject to be brought up at some point today. Truthfully you were a bit surprised no one had mentioned anything until now as well, but you figured Karen just didn't want to risk being lectured once again. You could only imagine how much she’d had to deal with that from Matt all week already. 
Silently you watched as Karen blew out a breath, turning on her heel and making her way over to take a seat in one of the cushioned armchairs beside you, her arms crossed over her chest as she moved. Marci hurried over after her and settled down into the chair on the other side of Karen. With rapt attention she rested her elbows on the armrest and leaned in towards her, clearly waiting for the details.
“Alright, we might as well get this over with,” Karen said flatly. “Yes, I am dating that Frank. No, he's not insane. He's actually incredibly sweet, protective, and has a big heart. And I didn't rush into things with him either, despite what Matt might try to tell you,” she continued, looking back at you and rolling her eyes a little. “There's been something there between us for years but Frank never wanted to explore anything more because he thought me being with him would put me in danger. But he also wasn't entirely at a point where he was ready to open up to someone else in that sort of way after…well…everything that had happened with his family.”
“So does he still…do that?” Marci asked carefully. “You know the uh…activities he’s been known for?”
Karen’s gaze dropped to her hands in her lap, her blonde hair curtaining her face a little. “Yeah, but not to that extent. Matt won't exactly let him–which is for the best, don’t get me wrong,” she added quickly. “But he's an ex-marine who'd been taught how to do exactly that from his time when he was in the military. I can’t exactly blame him for defaulting to what the government trained him to do, especially considering that the people who were on the receiving end honestly kind of deserved it for what they did to his family.”
Marci shifted in her seat, peering around Karen and focusing on you. One of her blonde brows arched up onto her forehead again. “And what're your thoughts on this?” she asked.
You shrugged lightly, both women now focused on you. The heels you'd been about to try on were currently forgotten on the floor by your feet with the conversation that had arisen. 
“I mean, we all know how Matt spends some of his evenings,” you answered her. “It’s not like he hasn't done his fair share of similar things to criminals in the name of keeping the city safe. In some ways it would be hypocritical of me to view Frank differently–even if he has, you know, crossed a line that Matt very much refuses to cross.”
“So you just…are indifferent about this?” Marci asked curiously.
“Not exactly, but I don’t really know the guy,” you replied. “I trust Karen’s judgment though. I’d like to think she wouldn’t date someone who truly wasn’t a good person at heart, even if it's difficult for the rest of us to understand. And if this is something that’s been developing slowly over the years, I have no idea what’s happened between the two of them. Plus, I doubt any of us saying anything based on what we know from the media about Frank would actually change her view, because I know that alone wouldn’t make me suddenly walk away from Matt.”
“Exactly,” Karen stated, shooting you a smile. “He’s not the man the media painted him to be. There’s vastly more depth and heart to him. And he’s saved my life multiple times now– and Matt’s recently.”
A bout of nerves unexpectedly broke free in your stomach, a cold fear steadily unfurling in your gut at her words. You knew Matt put himself in danger going out as Daredevil the nights he did, that was nothing new, but hearing that Frank had saved his life recently certainly had an effect on you. Were those two getting involved in something dangerous in the evenings now? Involved in something you knew nothing about? Because you hadn’t heard Matt mention anything specific to you before, though you’d noticed he’d been a little more on edge some nights when he returned home.
“Well,” Marci said, sitting back in her chair, “I guess I’m just glad Fog doesn’t put on some funny little suit and run around at night like your men do. I don’t think I’d be as calm about it if he did.” Her head turned towards Karen as she focused on her again, her eyes narrowing curiously. “Is Frank coming to the gala, by the way? As your date?”
Karen laughed loudly, shaking her head. “No, absolutely not. He wanted nothing to do with it to begin with, and I’m pretty sure Matt would have an aneurysm if he did show his face. He says it’s because of the firm’s image, but I know there’s more to it than that.”
“Guess I’ll have to meet him another time, then,” Marci said in defeat. She looked past Karen, gesturing a hand at the shoebox by your feet. “Are you going to try those on then?”
Remembering the box on the floor, you glanced back down at it, though your mind was truthfully still on the comment Karen had made about Frank having recently saved Matt’s life. That growing fear of yours about Matt finding himself in danger and you being absolutely useless to do anything to help him suddenly hit you hard. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you felt your mood sour as you bent over and removed the lid from off the shoebox. The satin sheen of the dark red heels glistened in the overhead light, but all you could see was Matt in his suit, his body lying motionless somewhere in an alley surrounded by a pool of blood. Your stomach lurched and you bit the inside of your cheek even harder.
Karen leaned over in her chair, gently placing a hand on your forearm. “Hey, are you alright?” she asked softly.
Shifting your attention towards her, you caught the look of concern etched across her features. Behind her, you’d noticed that Marci had already risen to her feet and returned to browsing the selection of heels. 
“Yeah,” you answered, your eyes returning to Karen. “It’s just…you mentioned Frank saving Matt’s life recently and it had me thinking about something again.”
Karen’s blue eyes narrowed back at you. “About what?” she asked curiously.
You sighed, once more ignoring the shoes in front of you before sitting back in the chair and focusing on her. “Do you ever feel like maybe you’re…helpless?” you began carefully. “I mean now that you’re dating Frank? Even though I know things are still new between you both.” Shaking your head, you quickly added, “I mean, I know he doesn’t have the same urge to run around like some sort of superhero that Matt often has, but I can’t help but worry that if he ever actually needed help–or was in trouble or something–that I couldn't do anything. I haven’t been able to shake this fear that I just…wouldn’t be able to help him, you know? Because I'm not like him. I can't do what he does. I can’t really do anything.”
Karen’s head tilted a little to the side, something contemplative reflecting in her eyes as she studied you in silence for a moment. You wondered if she was going to tell you that you were being ridiculous until she finally spoke.
“No, I’ve definitely felt helpless before,” she answered softly. “Even before dating Frank. And I’ve certainly had it cross my mind that being with him could land me in the middle of something dangerous. Unlike Matt, he doesn’t exactly hide who he is when he goes out and does his thing. But that’s actually why I’ve had him training me in some self-defense and–” she paused, her eyes darting over to Marci who was clearly still very ignorant of this entire conversation, “–taking me to a shooting range lately. To practice.”
Surprise washed over you at her words. So Frank had been training her? To fight and shoot guns?
“You know,” she continued slowly, her eyes still carefully studying you, “if you want, I could see if he’d be willing to teach you, too. If it would make you feel a little better, I mean. Make you feel a little safer or more capable or whatever. I’m sure Frank wouldn’t mind.”
A nervous laugh slipped out of your mouth before you immediately cut it off, shaking your head firmly at the mere suggestion. There was no way in hell Matt would ever be okay with you doing that. If anyone was going to teach you self-defense, it would be him. Though, he’d only taught you some very basic things before he’d stopped, saying that you didn’t need to learn anything further. Because he always claimed that he’d be there to keep you safe–a promise you knew he couldn’t realistically keep. And one that completely ignored your fear about keeping him safe.
“Yeah, I really don’t think Matt would like that,” you told her. “He’s afraid of me getting too close to Frank for some reason. Doesn’t want to risk me getting hurt or something, I’m not sure. But I know Frank teaching me how to tie my damn shoe would start a fight. Hell, me breathing the same air in the same room as Frank would probably start a fight between us. One I’m not sure I need to deal with.”
Karen shrugged lightly in response before rising up out of her chair. “He doesn’t exactly have to know,” she pointed out. “At least, not at first. It’s not like Frank and I can’t keep a secret if it would make you feel better. I can’t imagine Matt would be all that mad at you for learning how to take care of yourself a little more after it's already happened. But it’s entirely up to you. I’m just throwing the offer out there.”
Your gaze dropped down to the dark red heels before you. The image of Matt's lifeless and bloody body in his suit laying all alone in an alley returned to your mind. You winced at the mental image. 
“Thanks, Karen,” you replied, eyes still on the heels in the box. “I’ll uh, keep the offer in mind, I guess.”
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miveras · 3 days
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Drabble: Silent Treatment | JJK
Pairing: jungkook x reader Genre: established relationship, angst, fluff Word count: 1.6k Warnings: none
masterlist
---
“You’re so fucking lazy,” you scream, “Do you ever just look around and think to clean up after yourself once in a while?”
You pick up his worn, mahogany sweater off the floor and into the bucket you struggle to carry with only one hand. You resist the urge to chuck it at him, ignoring you with a scoff. 
You weren’t this angry to begin with, but you couldn’t help it after seeing his reaction to you. This was the second fight you’d had, and this has been the worst so far. He wasn’t listening to you at all, and you didn’t know what would make him finally cooperate. 
Though you shouldn’t fuel the flame, you keep nagging at him to get up and pointing out every one of his wrongdoings in the past few weeks. 
“Just give me a few days. You know I always clean on weekends since I don’t have time on weekdays,” Jungkook replies with a serious tone. You can see it in his eyes, his anger building up by the second.
“Well if you don’t have time, then why are you on your phone? Why aren’t you doing anything then?” you rambled.
He groans in response, obviously annoyed that you keep going back and forth with harsh blows.
After you guys dated for a year, you thought it’d be a good idea to start discussing the living situations. When he told you that his landlord was raising their prices, it posed the perfect scenario for you to invite him in.
Jungkook moved in just past a month, and sure, he was fine the first two weeks. He cooked for you, cleaned after himself, and tried his best not to make a mess. But recently, you’ve caught him being such a horrible roommate that now, you couldn’t stop the hurtful words coming out of your mouth. 
“Shut up…” he mutters in a quiet voice, avoiding your confrontation. He wished you hadn’t heard it but when he hears your feet dragging against the floor, he knew you did. 
But you didn’t choose to answer him and instead, you gave him the silent treatment. 
He enjoyed the short while that you left and came back with a vacuum. For the rest of the week, you guys cut off contact with each other, living in the same house but not saying anything. You even went as far as to eat at a different time than usual, just to avoid him. You weren’t giving this up easily– you wanted him to care, needed him to. You wished he found this just as important as you did.
Over the past week, all you focused on was your job. At work, all you thought about was him– it got so bad to the point where your work friends started questioning you about your sanity. You were constantly zoning out and the lack of sleep didn’t help at all. 
You asked for help from one of your friends: Ara. While writing a paper about the company’s statistical reports, you had a welcome visitor come in– just who you were looking for.
“Y/N! I haven’t seen you in a bit,” she whines, “I literally missed you so much.” She almost leaps into your arms as soon as she sees you. At least someone was happy to see you. She hugs you so tight you had to push her away for a bit, trying not to pass out from the lack of air.
“Ara, I missed you…” you pout. She notices the sadness behind your eyes, knowing that you’re not usually this affectionate unless you need it. Ara immediately knew something was wrong from the way you were reacting to her presence– though she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
You fess up to her about everything, including the words you and Jungkook exchanged. It was pretty harsh, to say the least. Ara understood you, more than anyone else could (except Jungkook of course). 
Her advice to you was to communicate, but it was way harder than it sounded. You couldn’t do it, not now at least.
You tried your best to avoid him by doing literally anything else: going out to work, cleaning, anything. It was pathetic to anyone who wasn't either of you– everyone knew how much both of you guys loved each other, and everyone knows you guys belong to each other. 
You were too stubborn to admit defeat so you waited for Jungkook– who was probably the only person just as stubborn as you, to apologize first. Predictably, it’s been an ongoing problem for more than just a few days.
Whenever it was time to sleep, your heart raced faster than normal beside him. You had already promised yourself not to lean over and kiss him, admire him, or do anything with him as a form of his punishment. But now, it started to feel like your’s. 
Did he even care about you? Did he even miss you?
You hated the way your body couldn’t relax, feeling every nerve pulse throughout your body. You swallow, wondering how long it’ll take you to fall asleep considering your inability to when you’re not embracing something. 
You shifted slightly, missing the way he looked over to you with a worried expression but not having enough courage to do something about it. 
He sighs, turning the other way as well. He decided not to do anything– he was way too exhausted and stubborn to even face you. He wouldn’t know what to say.
---
The next morning, you wake up with the house all tidy– clothes in their right place, no food in sight, all the dishes clean, but you can’t seem to find the one who did it. He must’ve gone to school already.
The following days were all the same. He goes to school, then you, then avoids each other all day, then comes home just to sleep facing opposite each other. I was tired, no doubt. 
He’s stubborn and you’re stubborn. You’d think you were a perfect match until something like this comes along. It’s funny, you think. 
At some point, all you wanted to do was be in his embrace. To feel his warmth all over you. Oh, how you wanted to just kiss him all over and play with his hair until he falls asleep.
As you think about how much you miss him, you wonder how much or if he even missed you at all. You look beside you– suddenly feeling an overwhelming amount of sadness. You almost forgot how much you missed him. 
Unintentionally, your shoulders shake as you try your best to keep in your weeps quiet and breaths steady. Streaks of tears drop to your cheeks, entangling with your hair. You struggle to stop your sobs from coming out, covering your mouth and wiping your eyes to make sure Jungkook doesn’t wake up because of you.
It was truly your last straw. You couldn’t handle being away from him anymore. 
“Y/N…” he whispers, concern written all over his face. You freeze, not being able to comprehend anything at that moment. 
Still feeling groggy and dazed from his sleep, he rubs his eyes to see you clearer. Once his eyes set on you, a small rush of panic goes through his veins, worriedness taking over his body. He parts his lips in shock and slowly wraps his arms around you– not quite sure what to do. 
You feel his arms snake to your waist, kissing your head and muttering soft phrases to calm you down. You wallow in his embrace, slightly embarrassed about your outburst that had him waking up late at night. In a way, you felt ashamed of yourself and your feelings, suddenly feeling more insecure about yourself as Jungkook continues to hold you in silence. 
He felt wrong reaching for you when it was obvious he was who you were upset about. He had a clue on what was happening to you– what you were worried about, but he decided to stay quiet and bring it up later when you don’t look as hurt. 
“Baby, I’m so sorry. I love you so much..,” his voice trails off as he starts peppering kisses all over your face. You can tell that he felt extremely guilty just by his voice, and his expression sends confirmation of that. 
At this point, you had already stopped crying out of embarrassment, shame, and even comfort from Jungkook.
“I-I’m sorry too,” you sniffle, “I’m sorry for yelling at you.” 
“I didn’t get the chance to apologize sooner. I..I was just scared that you’d stay mad at me– then I wouldn’t know what to do” he explains nervously. Rubbing your arm comfortingly, he asks you to stay with him. “I’ll listen to you from now on.”
“Jungkook, I love you too. I hate fighting with you,” you confess. He only smiles in response, though you can’t see his face when yours is buried in his chest. You hug him back in return– both of you exchanging loving glances at each other. 
Jungkook kisses you in the temple one last time before closing his eyes and relaxing his body.
In a few minutes, you both fall asleep in each other’s comfort. You missed him so much even though you’ve barely been apart and he feels the same exact way. That definitely wasn’t the last argument you’d have, but it’d be the last one where he’d make you cry. 
Ara was right– all it took was a bit of communication.
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AITA for wanting to spend a night out with a guy?
I'm twenty, study in university and still live with my parents. I've been planning to move out since I was eighteen, but they told me to keep living at home and not get a job so I could focus on studying while they take care of me financially. This arrangement has worked mostly well in the past years save for a few small conflicts, but it's escalated in the past 3-4 months.
The issue is my time schedule. I have a very active social life, am active in the local art scene, do political work and a lot of extracurricular stuff for university (I'm a straight A student, I might add!). Because of this, and because I'm a natural night owl, I usually come home late several days a week (between 10pm and 2am) and stay out all day for most of the week. This means I can't do a lot of chores, and usually there's a lot of housework because my mum has a bit of a cleaning anxiety and wants to make sure everything is spotless 24/7.
Enter this guy, I'll call him Tim. I met him at a festival last summer and we became long distance friends. Tim has visited me for a day several times before, but this weekend he offered to come over for two days and we agreed to spend the night stargazing together without sleeping. I loved the idea and immediately said yes. It was gonna be just us, a couple energy drinks, and some bench in the city center, and I was really looking forward to it.
The thing is, my mum does not like Tim. Like, at all. She thinks he seems very sleazy and generally distrusts him because he feels "too nice" for her. Mind you, he's just a somewhat shady looking guy who is generally pretty anxious he might make a bad impression, so he overperforms the whole "respectable member of society" act a bit around new people. I've introduced him to my friend group and even the more sceptical people absolutely love him and think he's a very sweet, helpful person. In basically every stressful situation I've ever seen him in he's been deescalating, protective and helpful, and he has on several occasions been my first source of comfort when things went to hell.
Today I told my mum in an offhanded comment that I won't come home between Sunday and Monday and the situation escalated completely. She was crying, accusing me of ruining her month, saying I didn't care about this family, it got ugly. The main point she had was that I was staying out all night with someone who's a total stranger to her and she doesn't trust him at all. In the end we compromised that Tim and I would spend the night awake, but not in the city, at home.
I feel really humiliated by this whole situation and honestly, kind of betrayed, because I was promised stuff like this wouldn't happen, and it just hits in a much safer situation than ones I've been in before (I used to get blackout drunk and sleep at parties a lot.). I'm a legal adult, have been for years now and it's so disappointing that my parents still treat me like a child sometimes and are so judgy towards my friends too. At the same time, I'm wondering whether I've acted wrong too by not telling her about this earlier and not taking her concerns that seriously. I forget sometimes that I talk to Tim every day for hours, but my parents only briefly ran into him once, so of course their view of him is skewed.
PS: I should add that when I told him about this, he immediately apologized, asked if I needed anything or wanted to change the plan and decided to dig out the least offensive outfit he could find so he'd make a good impression on my parents. So he's definitely trying his best.
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zal-eska · 2 days
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Lost in Longing [HuskerDust One Shot]
Summary: Husk struggles with his insecurities and doubts about his relationship with Angel while the latter is away on a shoot.
Also on AO3
〰・♡・〰
Husk had been cleaning the same glass for five minutes straight, staring directly at the glossy reflection of the bar top without flinching or moving. His heart had felt heavy all day, his head feeling like it was full of white noise.
Angel had been gone for 3 days for a shoot, expected to be back at any time that day. Since he had been gone, there had been who-knows-how-many ads coming from the V’s about Angel Dust’s hottest movie so far , with Angel being surrounded with Hell’s most attractive men and women.
Husk had missed him with his entire being. Sleeping in his bed with Fat Nuggets, trying to surround himself with Angel’s scent so he could try and miss him less.
As it got further into the afternoon, Husk began to feel more lost and his actions were starting to show his emotions. He couldn’t bring himself to do much else than to get lost in his thoughts and polish the same glass repeatedly.
Would Angel even want to come back to him after spending the weekend with all the most attractive citizens of hell?
Husk sighed, placed the glass down with a loud clunk against the wood and placed his head in his hands. Desperate to get the thoughts out of his head, he and Angel had only been dating for 3 months and Husk was already falling apart when he wasn’t by his side.
“All right, enough with the dramatics. Talk to me, bartender,” Vaggie’s voice made Husk jump a little, his eyes wide through his fingers as he watched her hop onto one of the barstools.
“It’s nothing, just… a long weekend,” Husk frowned, his eyes trailing to the front doors of the hotel before looking back to Vaggie. “Nothing to worry about.”
“It’s okay to miss him, you know? Having feelings isn’t a crime,” Vaggie smirked as Husk’s wings shook in response to her words. “I bet he’s all sorts of missing you too.”
“Ha, right.” Husk huffed. “Surrounded by Hell’s Hottest all weekend and he’ll be thinking of some ratty bartender.”
He slouched over the counter, resting his elbows on the wood as he gave into the conversation.
“He won’t be having time to miss me, I wouldn’t miss me either.” He shook his head, letting the truth wash over him, his heart heavier than ever.
“You’re kidding, right?” Vaggie’s face was a picture of disbelief. “Husk, Angel is completely obsessed with you. I could guarantee you that the minute he walks through those doors he’ll be all over you.”
“He ain’t obsessed, you’re being dramatic now,” Husk rolled his eyes. “He could have his pick of the litter, why the hell would he come back here?”
“Because you’re here, obviously. You might not see it right now, but he loves you. You’re all he talks about, even when the topic doesn’t even involved you,” Vaggie sighed before reaching out and placing a hand on Husk’s arm in comfort. “I know better than anyone what it’s like to not feel good enough for your partner, that feeling sucks. And I’m sure Angel would be heartbroken to know you think you’re not good enough for him.”
In his right mind, Husk knew she was right. Angel was over-affectionate, with his words and his touch. Husk barely had a minute when his boyfriend's hands weren’t on him in one way or another. Angel was also content to sit at the hotel bar pretty much 24/7 just to spend time with Husk, talking about everything and nothing.
Just a few days ago, before Angel had to leave, he sat at the bar with Husk until the car pulled up to take him away. Claiming he didn’t want to leave and asking if Husk could at least come with him. He had even bugged Alastor about it, asking if Husk could come too. Which of course, Alastor didn’t want one of his souls so close to one of the V’s for that long. Meaning the two would have to brave it apart.
His yearning for Angel had clouded his judgement, he knew Angel would come swooping in any minute now and shower Husk with all the affection they missed out on during the past few days.
“I see that smile, starting to feel better?” Vaggie raised an eyebrow and removed her hand from Husk’s arm.
“Yeah, thanks.” Husk let out a breath, his heart feeling lighter with the memory of his love.
“It’s good to see you’re just as obsessed with him too,” Vaggie chuckled before tilting her head to the polaroid tacked to the bar pole. A photo of Angel’s bright smile while snuggling a cheek into Fat Nuggets.
Husk snorted, smiling fondly at the photo before replying to Vaggie.
“Yeah, he slipped that one there before heading out. You should see the one he snuck into my wallet too,” Husk smirked as Vaggie scrunched up her nose.
“That would be cute if I didn’t know him better,” Vaggie chuckled. “But a good idea to keep in mind when Lucifer asks Charlie to go back to one of those long-ass meetings in Heaven.”
Before Husk could retaliate, an obnoxiously loud car pulled up the front of the hotel making his back straighten as he eagerly tried to peer through one of the hotel windows.
“Well, I guess I’ll leave you two to it.” Vaggie said teasingly, before slipping away from the lobby.
Without even acknowledging her departure, Husk lifted the entryway to the bar to hurry towards the hotel entrance. Ready to meet Angel on his way back into the hotel and have him back by his side.
He swung the door open and watched for a second as Angel typed aggressively on his phone while the cab driver lifted the large pink suitcase from the trunk of the car. His heart soared at the sight, squeezing in his chest as his love stood less than 15 meters away from him, finally.
He moved before he could speak, rushing toward Angel who had yet to notice Husk had come out to meet him.
Husk collided with Angel as he turned around to the noise of footsteps, his face buried in the soft, pink chest fluff and his chest immediately rumbling purrs at the contact. He rubbed his nose against the exposed skin before planting his cheek on his chest and catching a glimpse in the reflection in the hotel’s windows of Angel beaming a smile toward the top of his head.
“Hi baby,” Angel whispered and gently placed his hands onto Husk. One set on his head and the other to caress down his back, while Husk’s hands remained firmly on Angel’s back to keep him as close as possible. "Was just texting you that I'm back."
“Welcome home, sweetheart.” Husk purred, elated to hear the sound of Angel’s voice again.
“Missed me, huh?” Angel teased, hands squeezing Husk’s shoulders in affection.
“Not at all,” Husk quipped back, his actions speaking louder than his words.
Angel hummed and pressed against Husk a little more, the taxi hauling itself away from the scene knocked over his suitcase, not that either of them had noticed yet.
Just as Husk predicted, Angel’s hands were all over him, a hand placed on his back to keep him close, another on his shoulder, another caressing his neck and a fourth cradling the back of his head. Each hand gently placed and pressed the soft affection Husk had missed so, so much.
Just having Angel back in his arms had grounded Husk’s thoughts, more so than his conversation with Vaggie. The validation of Angel’s love was much better when he experienced it in-person, better than any memory.
“Everything okay in there, kitty cat?” Angel teased, flicking at one of Husk’s ears and giggling to himself when it flicked.
“Yeah,” Husk said slowly. “Got in my own head for second today, convinced myself you were never coming back.”
“Silly, silly.” Angel said lightly, all of his arms now squeezing Husk close. “Where else would I go when you’re here?”
Just as Vaggie had said.
“Vaggie said you were obsessed with me,” Husk replied and chuckled to himself as he heard Angel scoffed. He moved back a little to finally look at his face. “She said I was obsessed with you, too.”
“Well, as you should be.” Angel winked and smirked down at him.
Husk rolled his eyes as he leaned up on his toes and tilted his head towards Angel’s. His boyfriend bent down to meet him halfway, their lips meeting softly in a simple kiss.
Angel hummed as he pulled back and giggled when Husk tried to follow his movement but was ultimately too short to reach up for another kiss. He leaned back down and peppered kisses along Husk’s lips and the rest of his face until the cat demon was satisfied with the affection.
“Alright, alright,” Husk finally moved away, taking a step back but keeping one of his hands in Angel’s as he reached down to collect the forgotten luggage on the gravel. “Let’s get you inside.”
“Let’s.” Angel beamed, another hand coming to rest on Husk’s elbow as the held hands. “I have to update you on the studio gossip. You know the two chicks that I told you were kind of a thing but not really?”
“Uh huh,” Husk said absentmindedly as he walked towards the entrance with Angel in tow.
“They got secretly married in Imp City a couple weeks ago,” Angel whispered and smiled as Husk’s eyebrows raised.
“I thought that wasn't allowed by your boss?”
“It ain’t,” Angel squealed. “They were so obvious when we were all filming too. All handsy with each other and smiling, kinda sweet if it weren’t supposed to be an orgy. Speaking of orgies, the conclusion of the film was a total disaster! You would not believe…”
Husk smiled widely to himself as he led his gossiping boyfriend through the hotel, feeling at peace with the world once again with his boyfriend’s almost constant chatter in his ears and his hands on him once again.
〰・♡・〰
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vodika-vibes · 2 days
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I would love to see Wrecker with Topaz in the winter! Warm soup, cozy fireside snuggles, and just sheer cuteness! 💕
Silent Night
Summary: After Wrecker and the Batch’s Medic are stranded in the middle of a winter wonderland, Wrecker decides to make the best of it.
Pairing: TBB Wrecker x F!Reader
Word Count: 725
Warnings: None
Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: This one fought me at every turn. I knew what I wanted it to say, but I'm not sure I managed to make it as soft and sweet as I wanted. Oh well, Happy reading!
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“You know, you’re pretty good at this, Doc.” Wrecker says with a grin as his gaze drifts from the fish he’s cleaning, to where the team medic is crouching next to a roaring fire. 
The light from the orange flames gives her an almost ethereal look, and Wrecker has a look away before he gets too distracted. “Well,” She admits as she clears a space of snow, as best as she can, and pulls the tent out of his kit, “Mom and dad divorced when I was a kid. And while mom had a nice house, dad wasn’t so lucky. So his weekends were usually spent camping.”
“So you could probably clean this fish then?” Wrecker asks, as he glances at her curiously.
She smiles sheepishly, “Well, dad did show me how, but you’re doing a wonderful job.”
He grins at her, and sets his knife to the side, “Well, as it happens, I’m done anyway. You have everything set up?”
“Yep. Just toss everything in the pot.”
Wrecker does as she instructs, and watches as she adds a few packets of seasoning, as well as some dehydrated vegetables, “I’m guessing your dad had you doing most of the cooking?”
“Yeah. Well, he wasn’t very good at cooking, really. So it was either learn to cook, or me and my siblings were going to end up with tapeworms or something.” Wrecker sits on the flat rock that she found…somewhere…and starts cleaning his knife.
“You know, you don’t talk about your family often.”
She glances at him, “Well, there’s not really much to say, is there?” She drops the contents of a second package into the pot, and then sits next to Wrecker, “My family is just average.”
“I’m not sure what an average family is,” Wrecker points out, “Though I bet Tech could tell me.”
She laughs, “Right, right. Well, there’s mom. She was a housewife up until she and dad got divorced, and then she got a job at the local elementary school getting me and my siblings free tuition. Dad was a firefighter who had a gambling issue. And then there’s the kids, my other brother, me, and our younger sister.”
“Well, you’re a doctor. What do your siblings do?”
“My brother is a chef at some big name restaurant on Coruscant. My sister is trying to become an actress, though she’s only really starred in commercials.” She shrugs, “Like I said, normal. Your family is so much more interesting.”
He laughs, “That’s one word for them.” Wrecker finishes cleaning his knife and stashes it away, “Are you comfortable?”
“Hm?”
“It’s kind of cold.” Wrecker points out.
“Oh, I’m alright. The fire is helping, and Hunter insisted I wear cold weather gear for this mission.” She hesitates, “Do…do you think-?”
“I’m sure they’re fine. Tech is there, after all.” Wrecker drapes an arm over her shoulder and tugs her against his side, “We’re the ones who have to camp outside in the snow.”
She smiles shyly, “I’m not worried.”
“No?”
“I have you here, don’t I?” She asked with a small, almost flirty, smile.
Wrecker’s heart flips nervously, “I…uh…”
She tilts her head, “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“Nah, Doc. I’m just…I’m not Hunter or Crosshair, I’m not used to flirting.” Wrecker admits.
“I’ll stop, if you want.”
“Well now, I didn’t say that.”
She laughs, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, “I like you, Wrecker. You’re fun and you make me laugh and you make me feel safe. I’d like to go on a proper date with you, if I can.”
Wrecker blinks at her, “You…you do?”
“Yeah, if it’s alright.”
“We don’t really…there isn’t much time for proper dating-” Wrecker stammers, “And I don’t get paid-”
“I do get paid, and, well, it doesn’t have to be a big thing, Wrecker. I just want to spend time with you.”
“Well, in that case, can’t this be considered a date?” Wrecker points out.
She looks startled for a moment, and then she beams at him, “I think that’s a wonderful idea.” She lifts to her knees slightly and presses a light kiss against his cheek, before she settles next to him again.
Wrecker presses his hand against his burning cheek, a wide grin that he isn’t even trying to stifle. 
Being stranded here isn’t as bad as it could be.
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ghostgorlsworld · 2 days
Text
Johnny Boy (Part 7)
Werewolf! Johnny x reader
part one is here
Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until he decides to knock on your door.
Notes--Johnny is showing his true colors so the story is definitely getting a little darker.
You woke up hungover and embarrassed. 
You were old enough to know better and a mother for Christ’s sake–by all means too old to be making idiotic decisions that could shake the life you had spent over half a decade building. You could hardly remember what had led up to Johnny doing…the thing that he did, but you were sure you didn’t exactly put up a fight.
Tommy walked Emma back to your house shortly after seven, dressed for work. He pulled the makings of breakfast from the fridge, grumbling some nonsense about two full-grown wolf-soldiers eating him out of house and home. You were trying very hard not to do your walk of shame, refusing to look at the chair or the leftover pizza in the fridge. Emma, of course, was none the wiser, curling up in your lap to nuzzle at your face. 
“Did you have fun?” You asked, inspecting her for signs staying up too late. 
Emma nodded, beginning a long play-by-play of the previous night’s events, including a humorous addition of her forcing Simon to teach her card games. “We had ice cream after dinner,” she said, whispering it so Tommy wouldn’t hear. “Uncle Tom told me not to tell you.” 
Emma couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. You laughed and tickled her sensitive feet.
You couldn’t believe you had been so weak to let Johnny back in again. You couldn’t trust him, no matter what he said about his reasons for disappearing, and adding sex to the equation could only make things even worse.
“Johnny was out late last night,” Tommy said casually, cracking an egg into a pan. “He left after Emma went to bed.”
You couldn’t help but glance at the chair, trying very hard not to remember Johnny’s voice, wrecked and commanding, or his hands, or his tongue-
“I had an early night,” you said. “Charlie called for a raincheck.”
“Mm,” Tom said. “Scrambled?” You nodded, not missing Emma’s curious look. She really was too smart for her own good. 
The weekend passed uneventfully–you avoided Johnny by packing up Emma and spending a day in the city, finishing up your Christmas shopping in the shiny shops and taking Emma ice skating in the square. He called you once, but you quickly put Emma on the phone, your stomach aching just at the thought of talking to him.
Emma picked out a pair of red and white striped socks and a box of legos as a gift for her father. She was pleased with her choices, and you tried your very best to smile when she displayed them to you.
Johnny wasn’t even going to be around for Christmas, and that was something you needed to discuss with him. Your little girl couldn’t survive off of no letters or calls–after all, it nearly killed you. 
Monday comes with the first real snowfall of the year. You dressed in warm layers, sweaters and soft scarves, Emma’s face pink under the winter jacket you had strapped her in. 
Charlie was sitting by your desk at work, two cups of coffee in hand and your favorite pastry in front of your chair. He smiled as you unwound the scarf from your neck, looking appropriately guilty and embarrassed. “I wanted to apologize,” he said, passing you the coffee. “I…it was a dick move. I had a few already and confused the days–I er, I tried to call you in the morning when I had come to my senses but you didn’t answer.”
Honestly, you had forgotten about it completely. You raised a brow at the man. “I took Emma to the city for Christmas shopping. We were busy.” Charlie nodded. “Yeah, of course, it’s the holidays. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry, I feel like I’ve fucked things up.”
You searched around for anger, or even mild irritation, but it was gone, used up entirely by Johnny. “It’s alright, Charlie, thanks for the coffee.” Charlie smiled again, relieved. You took a seat at your desk and listened to him chatter about drama with Chris and Jan at the copying machine. 
You watched his hands. They were good hands–man hands, if you will, pale hair on his knuckles and a silver ring on his thumb. Johnny’s hands were wide and thick with dark hair, his nail beds always worn raw from the shift from stubby human nails to sharp claws. 
Why were you comparing? What was wrong with you?
Why couldn’t you just let sleeping dogs lie?
Charlie claimed your attention once more, following you to the carts of books that needed shelves. “I was wondering…I know I’ve acted like a right bastard, but I was thinking I could make it up to you. How does dinner tomorrow sound? I’ll make the food and supply the wine, you just bring yourself.”
You wanted to say no. That meant that you would have to see if Julienne would keep Emma for a few more hours, not to mention your attraction to Charlie had taken a nose-dive when he ditched you the first time. If only your body held all men accountable–your issue with Johnny would be solved overnight.
That was the thing that made you consider it. Johnny. He was your kryptonite, your achilles heel, and you needed to burn his touch off your skin.
“Alright,” you said. “If I can get a sitter for the bear.” “Deal,” Charlie said, grinning. He kissed your cheek gently, mouth warm and chapped.
Johnny texted the next morning, asking if he could take you and Emma out to lunch on your break. He offered to drop her off at Juliene’s house as well, saving you the walk.
You needed to rip the bandaid off. He wasn’t going to stay away forever, and it didn’t matter he had eaten you out while you were very sad and very drunk, you couldn’t keep him away from Emma. 
“Em, do you want to see Johnny today?” You asked, hoping against hope she would shake her head.
Instead, your darling girl perked up, ears twitching as she nodded eagerly. The full moon was coming quickly, so her behavior was…off, her eyes growing brighter by the day. Johnny used to refuse to be around you on the week of the full moon. He disappeared from your house and would show back up a few days later, looking exhausted and on edge, twitching if you tried to touch him.
You sighed. 
Where should we meet you? 
Johnny’s reply was lightning quick. You still like Angelo’s?
Angelo’s was a sandwich shop you used to frequent with Johnny, you hadn’t been in ages. That’s fine.
Johnny texted back something enthusiastic and barely legible.
Julienne had agreed to watch Emma for a couple more hours without irritation, saying she could use the money for a fancy new garden gadget she had been eyeing. You planned on grabbing it for her for Christmas, a token of your appreciation for her help with Emma.
You were going to give Charlie one last chance, if this dinner didn’t pan out you would find some other patsy to take you out every other weekend. 
Johnny was going to be gone soon, after all, and Emma is unpredictable with these things. She could take it as easily as she took the death of her grandfather, or it could be…catastrophic. 
You eyed your phone, forcing yourself to do the hard thing that neither of you wanted to face. 
I was hoping you would talk to Emma about you leaving soon.
There. You said it. You tossed your phone on the bed and finished getting dressed, herding Emma to school before you forced yourself to look at his response.
Of course, hen, we’ll talk about it. 
Work went by quickly in your haze of anxiety. What would he say to Emma?
What would he say to you?
You didn’t expect him to be waiting at Emma’s school. He was leaning against his truck, all twinkly blue eyes and a sharp smile that reminded you that he left for you. Because he couldn’t control himself. 
Johnny was trying to be good. You see it now, you remembered the way he used to follow you home after school, walking close behind you like he thought someone was going to steal you away. He wouldn’t share food with anyone, not even Tom, but if you asked he would always tear whatever it was in half and put it on your plate. 
Johnny and Tom had been playing video games in the living room when you left for your first date. You were sixteen and he had just hit twenty one, and he had looked at poor Dan Hilton like he wanted to rip out his guts and serve them up with eggs.
You had chalked it up to brotherly feelings, or the simple fact that Johnny has never liked to share. 
To see it for what it was felt…odd. You had heard about wolves claiming human spouses, putting a bite on their throat like a wedding band and never, ever letting go.
“Hey,” you said tiredly. 
Johnny straightened–he wanted a hug, you could see it in the way his hands twitched. “I figured I would give the two of ye a ride, yeah? It’s fuckin’ freezin’ today.” “Alright,” you said, glancing at your phone. The bell should be ringing any minute, and Johnny’s attention would be on Emma and not you. His attention was dangerous, it made you stupid and reckless.
“I heard you’ve got a hot date tonight,” Johnny said, going straight for the jugular.  
You stiffened. “That’s none of your business.” “Ach, lass, you wound me.”
“Johnny, the other night…it was a mistake. I was drunk and lonely and you were there.” You didn’t think it was possible to hurt Johnny, but you did. It flashed across his eyes, his jaw tightening into a straight line. 
You felt your stomach twist–god you were handling this all wrong-
He took a step, tilting your chin up with the pad of his rough finger. He wanted you to look at him, to watch his pupils swallow up the bright blue of his eyes. “I’m not a good man, kitty. Hell, I’m not even a man, not really. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll repent every fuckin’ day for it, but if you let him touch you, I’ll gut him like a goddamn fish.” “How dare you-” you began, but Johnny gripped your chin then, pressing the tips of his claws into your skin lightly. “You want me,” Johnny said, his gaze hazy and wild as it dropped to your mouth. “Even now. I should bite you right here, make it real fucking simple for you.”
There it was–the wolf that he had hidden from you for so long, the killer wearing the skin of your brother’s best friend. You forced yourself to hold his stare, feeling the sharp prick of his claws on the delicate skin of your throat. 
“I want a proper husband, John,” you said softly. “I want a real father for my child, someone who will be there for the birthdays and graduations and holidays. I want someone to sleep beside me every night, someone that doesn’t make me do this alone.”
You knew you were driving a knife right between his ribs–you knew how badly this would hurt him. Johnny had spent his childhood not being right for his mother, not being human enough, gentle enough. 
His eyes were so bright and so lost. 
“I’ve been alone for six years, John. I don’t ever want Emma to know what that feels like.”
Johnny was silent, his breath coming fast and rough. “I’ll never let another man have you,” he rasped. “You’re mine. Both of you.” 
He pressed closer, nuzzling your jaw with a low growl. “I’ll be a good mate, hen, I suppose it’s only right that I prove myself before we have our next pup.”
“No!” You hissed, pushing him away. “Enough, Johnny. You’ll be gone soon and I’ll have to deal with the fallout as per fucking usual.”
Your words weren’t working–they were working him up instead, like Emma when she watched the neighbor’s squirrels chase each other in the trees. His heart thudded like a drum under your palm. 
“You’re making a scene, kitty,” he said slyly, tilting his head like he wanted nothing more than to give chase. “Now hush, we’ll talk about this later. Emma shouldn’t see Mum and Dad argue.” You opened your mouth to argue, so furious you could hardly think.  
“Mum?” Emma sang, bouncing out of the school. “Oh, Johnny!” She ran to him, the little traitor. Johnny smiled, his sharp edges softening as he swung her up into his arms. “Ach, my girl’s getting heavy,” he teased, nuzzling her face. She mimicked his movements, her smile bright and happy–they were scenting each other. 
You looked away. “C’mon you two,” you said, forcing your tone to lighten. “I only have an hour for lunch.”
You barely touch your food, your stomach twisting and turning in furious knots. A sandwich, your old favorite, sits in front of you, courtesy of Johnny.
The audacity of men. You were the one who had spent countless nights bouncing up and down the hallway with Emma in your arms, exhausted and sore, your breasts swollen and aching from her sharp teeth–yet, Johnny was quickly a new favorite. They were the same, after all, the same species, the same aggressive, needy temperament.
Johnny wiped a bit of mustard from Emma’s cheek, humming at her irritated whine. She was close to her shift, and her skin was sensitive. “Dinna fash, baby, it’s the moon,” he crooned, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. “I woke up this morning w’my skin crawling.”
That was another bump in the road. Emma’s shifts had gotten harder and harder over the years, more anger, more pain, and the internet had barely any information about early childhood shifts. Jack hadn’t been concerned, saying Johnny had the same issues at that age–the only difference was that Johnny was a feral little thing that used to sneak out during the full moon and pick off the strays of London. Emma couldn’t bring herself to squash an ant, much less devour a cat or dog–but then Johnny hadn’t had much human influence, at least, not until you and Tommy. 
“Emma, tell your Ma that if she doesn’t eat, we’ll have to feed her ourselves,” Johnny said. He was smiling, but his eyes were sharp. 
Emma sniffed at your sandwich. “You didn’t have breakfast either, Mum,” she said accusingly. “You always tell me food is good for your brain.”
You cocked an eyebrow at her. “Maybe I’m not hungry.”
“Eat, kitty,” Johnny said, his tone rougher as if you were one of his soldiers. “You look dead on yer feet.” You took a bite, just to appease them. You could still feel the small, stinging cuts his claws had scraped on your jaw. 
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natti-ice · 3 days
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Would You Have Me?- Sirius Black.
Pairing: Sirius Black x fem!reader
Summary: Y/N is the only person in Sirius’ life he truly cares about, he wouldn’t mind if it was only them
Warnings: modern high school au!, written in third person (she/her pronouns) (1.6k words)
Author's note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3
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The final bell rang, it was Friday hundreds of students poured out of the school doors ready for the weekend. Y/N was among the swarm of kids, headed toward her bus. Thankful it was the weekend, this week had been a lot on her. Off in the distance, she could hear her name over the loud voices. Looking around shielding her eyes from the sun, she could see a tall boy headed her way. 
It was Sirius
"There you are," he said when he reached her, throwing his arm around her shoulder "Where are you off to?" he asked
"My bus" she pointed to the big yellow vehicle
"C'mon, I'll take you home" he offered
"Really?" she asked
"Yeah, you can tell me all about your day"
They walked to the student parking lot, Sirius drove a black '89 Dodge charger. It was a little squeaky, but he loves that car. 
He opens the passenger door for Y/N, closing it once she was in. Sirius Drove the long way to her house so they could talk longer.
"How was your day, dear?" he asks pulling out of the campus
"It was fine, I'm glad the week is over. Everything has been a lot lately" 
It was their junior year, everyone is starting to worry about their futures. Their career, college, exams, everything stressful. 
"I know what you mean, it feels like we have to know everything about the future before it happens" he replies
They continue their conversation all the way to Y/N's house. They've always been able to tell each other everything without feeling judged. Nowadays, it feels like you have to make sure everything is perfect because the whole world is watching, waiting for you to fall.
He was her safe place, and she was his. 
Sirius pulls up in front of her house, parking the car.
"Thanks for the ride, Sirius" she says opening the car door
"Of course, love. Hey, do you wanna hang out tomorrow?" he asks
"Yeah, sure I'll ask my parents. I'll text you" she answers
"Great, I'll see you soon then" He smiles
"Bye" she says closing the door.
He waits for her to go inside before driving off like he does every time. He sees her almost every day, but he still gets excited when they hang out. It's like a new experience every time, even when they've done it one hundred times before.
-
When he got home, he waited anxiously for her text. Her parents have never said no before, but it still made him a little nervous. He's made sure over the years that her parents liked him, he didn't want them to think he was just some guy who was only hanging out with their daughter to get in her pants.
He started his homework that probably won't get finished till Monday morning, checking his phone every few minutes.
Finally, after what felt like an hour, she texted him
parents said it's cool What did you have in mind?
 Movie? Wonka is still showing. Stay at my place after?
Timothee Chalamet? HELL YEAH! Definitely down for a sleepover
 Great! I'll pick u up at 4
See you then! <3
He was happy that she could come, he liked being able to get out of the house and escape with her. Everyone has family issues, his family was distant from each other. It was almost like they were roommates, not a family. His parents didn't care if he was gone or if he had someone over.
His brother stayed in his room most of the day when he got home from school. Their bond was limited to short interactions in the dining room on special occasions.
Y/N was his real family, she was always there for him whenever he needed her. At school, many people claimed to be his friend, they'd say hey in the hallway or talk about some game that happened the night before. None of them would actually have a real meaningful conversation with him.
He didn't get why he was so popular, he was sociable and easy on the eyes sure, but nobody knew the real him. It seemed like they had all made a false version of him in their heads. A mysterious ladies' man who could have anyone he wanted.
That wasn't true at all, he wasn't a mystery at all. He was very open once you got to know him, only Y/N had ever made the effort to do so. The whole 'ladies' man' thing was really funny to him. He'd never had a serious girlfriend, a few dates here and there but nothing real.
Many of those girls thought that him and Y/N had a thing going on so they would stop talking to him completely. At first he didn't know why they would think that, he thought their friendship seemed very platonic. Then he realized some of the things they would do seemed a little too friendly.
That didn't stop him. If he was honest, he didn't care about those girls at school. If there was only one girl in the world and he had to pick her. It would be Y/N. Always Y/N.
-
Saturday came around, Sirius waited all day for 4 o'clock. He didn't like to be late, he pulled up in front of her house a few minutes early so he could greet her parents.
Turning off his car, walking up to the front door. He rings the doorbell that has a little camera on it. A few seconds later, her mother opens the door
"Sirius, how are you, dear?" she asks bringing him in for a hug
'I'm great, Mrs. L/N. How's everything?"
"Everything's fine, Y/N should be ready by now." she told the boy "Y/N, Sirius is here!" she yelled up the stairs
She came down the stairs, a small bag in her hand. 
"Sorry, had to make sure I had everything, are you ready?" she asks Sirius
"Yeah, I'll see you later, Mrs. L/N" 
He and Y/N get in his car, driving to the local movie theater. 
That movie was almost 3 hours long, but that's okay. They didn't mind sitting in a dark room together in silence. It was much later, the sun was starting to set when they headed towards Sirius' house.
His parent's car wasn't in the driveway thankfully, awkward hellos are never fun. They realize they're starving and order take out.
Once it finally arrives, he takes her up to his room. Passing by Regulus' room, she could hear gunfire from some video game.
"Don't mind him, it's like he's married to the game. Hardly comes out the room" Sirius explains opening his bedroom door.
It was relatively clean, only because he knew she was coming over. His walls were lined with movie posters from the 80s and now, some of his favorite vinyls, and photo booth pictures of him and Y/N from various locations.
He made sure his space represented him. The real him. 
They spend the next couple of hours eating and watching random videos on youtube until they got bored of it. Putting on Evermore on as background music as they talked.
Both of them are sitting on the floor, Sirius leaning against the wall, Y/N against his bed
They jumped from topic to topic as the night progressed, getting into the more personal topics. A few weeks ago, Y/N started talking to a boy named Kevin. She seemed to have liked him until she stopped talking about him.
Sirius had been curious about that for a while, he thought it was a good time to ask
"Whatever happened to that Kevin guy? I thought you two were getting serious" he asks
"Oh him? That's long gone" she shrugged, "He said he just didn't feel anything for me" she explained, she didn't show it but she was a little hurt by the boy's words.
"Oh my god, he sucks. Anyone would be more than lucky to have you" He was mad that anyone would treat her like this. "Fuck that guy"
"It's alright, I didn't need him in my life" she wanted to get the topic off her "What about you? Anyone new in your life?"
"Nah" he smiles "I don't want anyone new, honestly"
"What do you mean?" she asks
"I'm happy just having you in my life, sometimes I wish it could always just be you and me" he says in a low voice
"That would be great, honestly. Just us against the world" she agrees
"Y/N?" his voice barely above a whisper, fidgeting with a ring on his hand
"Yeah?" 
He swallowed before replying, "I think I'm in love with you"
"What?" she laughed nervously, he got up and sat next to her
"When I think of my future, having a family and owning a house, you're there right next to me. I've tried to convince myself that it's only because there isn't anyone else in my life" He pauses searching her face for any sort of bad emotion "I know now, it's because I don't want anyone else in my life but you"
Y/N's brain was all over the place, trying to figure out what to say. Sirius has been her rock for so long, she had a small crush on him. She didn't think he would ever reciprocate it
"I don't know what to say" she admits
"That's alright, you don't have to say anything. If you're willing, maybe we could see if this goes anywhere?" 
She reaches down grabbing his hand, lacing her fingers with his. "I think we can make it work" she smiles "After all, we're still getting married at 30 right?" she laughed
"Right Right. A pact is a pact, dear" he smiles
She gives him a small kiss on the cheek, slowly pulling away. Their faces were dangerously close together, warm breath fanning against their skin. Y/N closes the distance. Their lips perfectly fitting each other, just like they were made for each other.
Sirius pulled away, not wanting things to get carried away. Y/N rest her head on his shoulder
"So, what color should our invitations be?"
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Tag list:
@thebiggestnaturaldisaster @madwcman @de-duchess @timbradfordisbae @mommymilkerfanclub @oatmilkriver @hisparentsgallerryy
join a tag list!
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becca-e-barnes · 11 months
Note
Sub Bucky and a breeding kink 💀 dead unlived it's one of my favourite things 😌
This is pretty high up there on my list of dream fantasies 🥵 these are two of my biggest weaknesses, don't even look at me rn
One of life's greatest joys is cuddling with the other person's head resting on your chest so you can play with their hair and rub their shoulders. I love that shit, having someone else's body weight on you is so comforting.
I imagine that's something Bucky would really enjoy too. It's so soft and sweet and tender and getting to feel cared for would really appeal to him.
But that's up until his hands work their way under your top, up over your bare skin so he's able to cup your breasts and bury his face between them while he's getting his hair played with. Life's pleasures don't get much simpler than that.
After a few moments he shifts slightly, tugging the neckline of your shirt out of the way to give himself space to kiss and nip your skin. All of a sudden he's desperate and it's beautiful to watch.
"Please." He whispers between frantic kisses, flicking his tongue over the stiff peak of your nipple before engulfing it with his warm, eager mouth.
"Please, what?" You tease, tugging on his hair just a little for emphasis.
He groans, frustrated by his own lack of coherence, pulling his mouth from your nipple. "Please let me put a baby in you."
That's not what you were expecting but fuck, he makes it sound pretty appealing.
"Bucky-" You begin but he cuts you off, giving your other nipple the same attention as he gave the first. God, that's distracting.
"You'd make. Such. A pretty. Mommy." He whispers, kissing his way down your body until he reaches the bottom seam of your top. From there, he pulls it off, letting it fall to the floor before removing the rest of your clothes.
"You'd look so pretty with a little baby bump." His huge hand rests on your bare tummy, imaging how your body would change.
"I want it, Buck." You mean it too. It doesn't sound like such a bad idea when he's taking his clothes off.
"I know you want it." He groans, rubbing the tip of his dick against your soaked core. "Y-you're so wet."
He presses his hips forward, sliding inside you and you can't explain it but you swear it feels different this time.
"Don't even think about pulling out." You cup his face in your hands, keeping his eyes on you and you almost worry he's going to fuck himself senseless into you. "I want you to make me a mommy. You're going to give me every single drop of cum and when it starts to drip out of me, you're going to fuck it back in."
His head falls onto your shoulder, sobbing a pathetic moan against your already hot skin. The pace of his thrusts matches his need, his hips slamming into yours and when he finally gives in, he cums inside you with your legs clamped around his waist, making sure he couldn't pull out even if he wanted to.
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daydadahlias · 7 months
Note
WAIT WHERES MIM?!?! PLEASE TELL ME YOU’LL RELEASE THAT ONE AGAIN PLEASE
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I need you guys to understand that the reason I took down my stuff was for my own peace of mind because they're my stories and i started feeling unsafe having them out because of how they - and I - were being treated.
absolutely nothing is wrong with mim and I love that fic and I care so much about it which is why - for my peace of mind - i want it to belong to only me rn. I know the fic was only out a month after i finished it and that really upsets me about taking it down. i want to reupload it because i know people like the fic and i love sharing my stuff but also there's that level of how much the fic matters to me and how much more devastating it makes it when people are cruel. and how much it hurts when I, as the creator of something, am treated like I don't matter at all and that my stuff can so easily be stolen or copied. like, it's an extension of me, yknow? You can't separate content and creator in such a small and intimate sphere as fandom. like, you guys all use my first name when referring to me, yknow?? there's that sense of connection. and since it's such an intimate space, having that trust be betrayed or disrespected is so much more potent than if we were in a large fandom with a lot of creators.
the fear of having MiM copied is really immense and real for me rn and i know that's potentially me being overly paranoid but considering the Amount of times this has started to happen - and how blatantly rude and nasty and entitled readers have been getting with me and other creators over the last year - it's definitely not out of the realm of possibility.
MiM wasn't written for readers, it was written for me. and i shared it because i wanted to and that was wonderful. but to have any of my stuff stepped on so much just doesn't make me feel very safe in this fandom space rn and makes it hard to let people have access to something that matters so much to me.
I'm not saying MiM has been deleted forever, I'm just saying i want some more time for it to be mine.
#like i thought about not uploading scene 14 too especially bc she HAS been stolen verbatim before but.#at this point it just feels too late bc so many people have already read it#yeah i have a lot of conflicting feelings and im not saying i'll never repost mim but i just need some more time with her yknow????#like she matters a *lot* to me. and im allowed to be a little finicky with her#and this has been just so. immensely hurtful lately#like i spent most of the weekend crying my eyes out over this stuff because it's just so. hard. to consistently share things#and *have* consistently shared things for three years#and to actively *see* the change that's been occuring in this fandom where people just started treating content like it was consumable#and dispensable. and then started just *expecting* things from me and demanding fics or being pointblank rude and like...#i just dont have time for it yknow??#this stuff is supposed to be *fun*. i do it in my free time and share it with strangers for free bc i want to share the fun with others#and when people start disrespecting that. it makes it hard#like ive had so much more fun in the last week writing fic solely for myself and *not* sharing it than i have in. like. the last month#bc whenever i share fic publicly now. i know im going to have to deal with people potentially stealing it.#or not giving a shit about it and just asking when the next thing is coming. or going on twitter and ? talking about me publicly#where i cant even see it#like it's just been *so* many things lately. and it's hard when this is something i should only be doing to make me happy.#and it's been causing me sm stress instead.#and the fact that i took a week off tumblr and like. i got several pretty?? shitty asks?? that really undermined my feelings on everything.#and made it about themselves like#i dont know how to explain to you guys that we're all people and the whole point of fandom is to *share* with each other#not take.#so yeah i want to be able to share my stuff again and feel comfortable doing that but right now i just dont#and im gonna. get off my soapbox now ok <3#the biggest thing is that. people act so overly familiar with me by calling me jess in asks and comments and acting like they know me#and then somehow. they are also so mean and devaluing of me? i cant really make sense of it.#ok enough of me. talking about myself. and venting#pigeon#anon
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Text
I'll Shut You Up (18+ Fic) (Ch. 3/?)
Pairing(s): Rhea Ripley/Fem. Reader
Disclaimer: This is NSFW. If that's not your thing, keep scrolling. I try to tag my work appropriately and if you still choose to click and read, do so at your own discretion. Thank you for the love, always, and I hope you enjoy!
Summary: It’s pretty well known that Rhea and Fem. Reader can’t stand one another. Reader thinks Rhea’s way cockier than she should be and Rhea thinks as highly about Reader as much as she thinks about the dirt at the bottom of her boot. Well… so they say, at least. A packed hotel mishap forces them to bunk together, and Rhea presses her luck by running her mouth.
Fic Tag(s): 18+, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, overbooked hotel, WM weekend, Bottom Sub!Rhea, Dom Top!Reader, bratty!Rhea, praise kink, honorifics, a little bit of oral (Rhea receiving) anal play/penetration, size difference, strap-on, toys, orgasm denial, nipple play, hair-pulling, spit for lube (I KNOWWW IM SORRY), begging, spanking, biting, slapping, choking, recording.)
Prev. Chapter
“If you’re not gonna address me the way you should, then maybe I don’t need to hear you at all.” I replied calmly. “Don’t move.” I said as I got off the bed momentarily to rifle through my bag until I found some black bondage tape.
Surprisingly, Rhea stayed put until I got what I needed from my bag and I climbed back onto the bed behind her with the bondage tape, a wand, and the strap-on.
I adjusted the straps of the strap-on as I spoke.
“I don’t know if I wanna use lube for what I wanna do to you,” I said. Then I gasped as I got an idea.
“No, I know… since you wanna use your mouth so much, maybe you can actually make yourself useful and help things along. Hm? How’s that sound?” I asked, not really expecting a real answer out of Rhea.
Clothes off and strap-on secured, I reached for the tape, securing her wrists behind her.
Of course she didn’t go out without a bit of a fight, until my palm lifted over ass threateningly, making her go pliant again.
“Are you really gonna keep fighting me? I mean look at you…” I shook my head and tsked as I ran my fingers over her glistening pussy for a moment, unaware that her face had gone bright red and not just due to exertion as she released a pathetic whimper, until I brought my focus back to her.
“Ooh, whats the matter, sweetheart? Embarrassed that you’re enjoying this?… You asked me to do this.” I said before I brought my mouth onto her pussy, giving her clit a hard suck and swirling my tongue over the hardening bud and over her lips, savoring the taste of her for a moment as one of my fingers traveled up toward her asshole.
“Shit!” Rhea cursed, her thighs trembling as much as her voice as my mouth worked her pussy and I slid my middle finger into her ass and I moved it back and forth in tiny thrusts.
“Mmm. That pussy tastes good, actually.” I commented almost nonchalantly, and then I giggled softly over the pathetic sounds coming out of Rhea’s mouth.
“But… that’s not the hole I want.” I said… not yet, at least.
But I didn’t dare voice that.
I told myself that this wasn’t happening again…
My finger slid out of her ass for a moment before my tongue replaced it.
I gathered some spit, swirling and flicking my tongue over the puckered muscle before I dipped it inside, pushing past the tight ring and I moaned as Rhea’s body and mind fully gave in to my ministrations.
“Mmm.” I hummed again around a chuckle as I continue to thrust my tongue into Rhea’s asshole and I heard her sounds pick up in pitch.
I hadn’t fully decided to gag her yet and holy shit, was I glad I hadn’t.
“Oh, f-f-..uck! Yeah, that’s it, ma’am… don’t stop, don’t stop, ma’am. Don’t stop.” Rhea moaned before her hips began rocking, urging my tongue deeper until my palm striked her right and already reddened asscheek.
“Fuck!” She sobbed, her body clenching with the sting of my palm and I grabbed a handful of her hair as I spoke into her ear, the silicone dildo pressed against her ass momentarily and I could feel her resisting the urge to move her hips again and grind up into it.
“You don’t get to take. anything. I do.” I growled, anunciating slowly.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m really s-sorry! I’ll be good! I’ll be good- I’ll listen!…” Rhea apologized through her tears.
God, she was already a beautiful mess and we’d barely even started…
“Yeah? You’ll listen?” I cooed mockingly and released her hair as she nodded adamantly. “I hope so. Otherwise things’ll get much, much worse for you.” I said and then I shoved two of my fingers into her and coated them with her saliva before I thrust them both into her ass and scissored them.
I felt her tense a little as I stretched her out and I watched a lightning quick wince contort her features but she didn’t utter a complaint, just harsh panting breaths and a guttural moan here and there that morphed into soft whimpers as my tongue and fingers worked to stretch her out.
Though I didnt work too hard.
This was a lesson, after all.
Once I was satisfied, I moved up on the bed and faced her and I grabbed one of her hair ties from the bedside table and I put her black locks into a loose bun, wanting to see her features fully before I shoved the silicone dildo past her lips, finally fulfilling my fantasy of watching her smart-ass mouth being put to good use.
“That’s better. I like you better like this… obedient. No smart comments, not you being a fucking brat… Look up at me.” I moaned as if the appendage were mine and I could feel the warmth of her mouth wrapped around me as she swallowed in a desperate attempt to avoid any saliva from escaping.
It helped that inside the the strap was a risen nub that rubbed deliciously against my clit with every movement made.
“Mmgh!” Rhea gurgled out a response as her eyes met mine, making me chuckle.
“Relax that mouth, doll. This is the only prep you’re getting.” I said, my pussy throbbing as Rhea’s widened a little; whether it was in fear or excitement, I wasn’t entirely sure.
When I deemed it enough, I let her mouth rest and I moved back behind her, until a thought came to me.
“Not like this.” I said.
“What?” Rhea asked, not in a challenging way, but more curious than anything.
“On your back. I wanna watch every single second of this…” I demanded, not giving her room to argue as I maneuvered her onto her back and I lifted and spread her legs, pressing them and her wrists up against her torso.
No doubt she took pride in having her opponents in a similar position- and maybe some of her sexual partners as well.
But this position clearly made Rhea feel vulnerable, which is exactly what I wanted.
Again, she didn’t complain, but I noticed the internal struggle going on inside of her until I guided the tip of the strap-on into her ass.
I smirked as Rhea’s slack-jawed expression and feral eyes as the toy stretched around her ass and I watched the toy slide in until it was fully inside.
I then reached next to me for the wand and tape, tapeing the wand around her thigh in a way that allowed the head of the wand to buzz against her clit.
“Ohh, look at you… trembling and moaning like a needy and good little slut… I thought you were gonna put up more of a fight than that, doll. Good girl…” I laughed, anunciating my words with slow yet deep thrusts, drinking in Rhea’s groans and squeals, spurring her reactions on with my words.
“Oh my god. Holy shit! Please! Please… I’ll be so good if you lemme cum, please, ma’am.” Rhea gulped hard as she begged, her face reddened and wet with arousal and tears.
“‘Please’? Oh you’re so cute. Such a good girl.” I said, amused at the way the tables had turned and taking note of how that praise pleased Rhea yet it made her even needier.
I gave Rhea’s face a couple light slaps until she unsurprisingly asked for more.
“Harder, please.” Rhea shuddered out.
I gave harder slaps to her face, and I moaned along with her as I finally began to plow into her ass.
Her legs turned into raw noodles and splayed even more apart, giving me access to her breasts.
I gave her nipples a stinging twist, not letting off for a couple seconds and making her growl and squeal in a way I was beginning to get addicted to.
“I’m beginning to think that we should do this more often… maybe I should just make this asshole mine now. Use it whenever I please? Hm?… bet I wouldn’t even have to say a word. You’d just roll over onto your back and lemme take that pretty ass whenever I want, huh?” I moaned.
In a moment of clarity, I’d revisit my words and probably smack myself for what I was suggesting.
But not right now.
Right now, I just cared about owning the woman underneath me, making her shatter into a billion pieces just so I could put her back together.
My heart pounded in my eyes and my own thighs trembled as I got closer and closer to precipice of bliss as she writhed and groaned, on the brink of her release herself as the vibrator worked her clit and I fucked her.
Maybe it was the combination of the vibrator incessantly thrumming against her clit and my hips thrusting at just the right angle, my hand snaking up to wrap around her throat and squeeze with just the right amount of pressure.
But Rhea didn’t seem to disagree with my suggestion.
In fact, she nodded eagerly, tears sliding down the sides of her face as my hips continued their relentless pace.
“Yes! Ye-ees! Yeah, whenever you want, ma’am- whenever…hhngh!” Rhea’s words broke off as her orgasm approached like a raging feral monster breathing on the back of her neck, coaxing it out of her.
“Don’t you dare cum yet.” I commanded in a harsh tone, not feeling sympathetic towards the whining that ensued.
“You are not going to cum without my permission. Do you understand me?” I demanded.
But she wasn’t going to cum at all and neither was I.
At least not tonight we weren’t.
Because just as I noticed Rhea’s body beginning to completely disobey my command, a knock sounded at the hotel room door.
“Hotel security. Open up!”
TBC LMAO!!
@theworldofotps @alyyaanna @southerngirl41 @harmshake @mzv11 @letsgivethisonemoreshot @theundertakeriscoming @slutfortheeclaymore @auraravenora77 @niknakattack @moonwolfdemonprincess21 @babiidee28 @thesamoanqueen @omegasshyghuleh6661ghosts @xndalynch @84reedsy @romanstheory @kianaleani @elefrog25-blog @motherknuckers @phantasmacabre @wandering-fox @lxndonorris @girlnred @yo-yo89 @smile1318 @sassginaswanmills @exhaustedclown @aritannahrocks1300 @superlove167 @ayeeitsali @queencherryberry @truefant4sy @codyswhitebelt @blackmeetsworld @salirophiliac @kayfabebabe @rhea-the-eradicator @souleatermia @bittersweetastoria @domripley @wrestlingprincess80 @myluvrrhea
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Gripping the sink tightly and looking into the mirror and repeating to myself that martrydom is overrated and that mortification of the flesh isn't as sexy as the media makes it look.
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pepprs · 11 months
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my mom isn’t letting my dad go back to his office bc him being out of the house stresses her out and makes her have a flare up and it’s like kind of insane. like i understand why the idea of him doing that would make her panicky and angry as someone who also struggles w separation anxiety and abandonment shit / has physical symptoms from that kind of stress (though not to the same degree ofc) but also he is a grown man. he should be allowed to go to his office and not have to shape his entire life around her needs. and she keeps guilt tripping him out of it and it’s impacting his quality of life a lot and the whole thing is kind of… hm
#purrs#delete later#also she’s guilt tripping me into coming to the stupid fucking potluck on sunday bc she needs the extra help and it’s like… what are you#gonna do when i move out. like i am a grown woman and i should be able to choose how i spend my two precious weekend days. and my dad is a#grown man and he should be able to choose where he works. like is that not a little bit insane. i get it but also….. i do think it s kind of#fucked ip that it’s her way or the highway and her needs take priority over all of ours and she’s asking us to bend to what she wants when#she wants it. like i get it bc she’s sick but it’s not fair for her to expect that from my dad especially. particularly when me and my#brother are back at work / school in more high risk environments than my dad who would be in a private office alll day. and the thing is no#one is brave enough to all her on it bc if we did it would be the END of the world. she even threw a fit on my dads bday and complained bc#the things he wanted to do were things she didn’t want to do like all the man wanted to do was go mini golfing and when that wasn’t good#enough he just wanted to go on a walk and my mom complained the whole time and also scoffed the movie he wanted to watch and said it was#boring and it’s like… wtf it’s HIS birthday??? but what do you expect from the woman who (and in fairness her friends got her these as gifts#but still) has TWO kitchen items that say some variation of ‘a marriage is when one is always right and the other is always the husband’ 💀#i look at that little plaque every night bc it’s in front of the sink when im doing dishes and it makes me so fucking angry. like my dad is#a whole fucking person and he can be right too and he deserves to make choices and be happy and not have his wife put him down all the time.#idk. and she puts down his family all the time too and complains when he wants to do the most reasonable things for his own enjoyment that#don’t align with hers and criticizes his interests all the time and it just sucks to see. he never shows hurt or anything so idk how he#feels about it but it makes me so angry and sad and when i tell her to stop she just lashes out at me so. 🤪. like how do we get her to stop#making her needs more important than everyone else’s bc… she may be our mom / his wife / whateger but that doesn’t make her queen. no one is#(andalso this has only gotten worse bc of covid / her being sick. like this has been a lifelong thing it’s just it’s a lot worse now bc the#circumstances gave her room / forced her to have to take up more space. and it’s just so frustrating. i get it. but none of us are pawns or#dolls or subordinates or anything. there’s 5 adults here and we should all be able to make choices and not be guilt tripped by her. lol#)
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