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myfictionaldreams · 1 year

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Overwhelming // Mafia!Stucky x fem!Reader

Summary: It had been your birthday a few days ago and both Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party followed by intense, long nighttime activities. However as you lay in bed on Monday morning, something just didn't feel quite right.

Prompt: How would the boys help Reader through a subdrop?

Requested by: @southern-goth (thank you so much for the request! And for the amazing header that I’ve included in your previous request, I love it!)

Tags: sfw, polyamory, subdrop, dom/sub relationship, mentions of rough sex, fluff, hurt/comfort, aftercare (lots!!), soft steve & bucky, crying/anxiety, size difference, pet names, praising, kissing

Words: 2.8k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The night was filled with restless tossing and turning from the edge of the bed. There was nothing in particular that you could definitely pinpoint as the reason for the unease but you saw every hour of the night.

Even as Bucky’s warm, solid body found yours across the bed, his mind still deep within the sleep world, he still enveloped himself around you. Normally, the strong beat of his heart against your ear, even his natural musk would be enough to make you feel safe and relaxed in your own peaceful sleep.

However as the clock ticked to 04:30 am, all hope was lost for the land of rest and as you found yourself needing to turn in Bucky’s arms once more, the decision was made. Carefully, as to not wake the sleeping gang member, you inched out from underneath his metal arm, gently laying it back down on the bed.

Stretching out your body, you had to refrain from sighing, for no reason in particular. There was a heavy feeling settled through the centre of your chest, making your body feel heavy and weighted, almost making it an effort to even find the energy to stand.

But you pushed yourself to stand, needing to move and shake off whatever feeling had been disturbing your sleep. Deciding to go and make a coffee, you gave one last glance at the two men still sleeping, usually feeling a happy calm at being able to witness them both look so peaceful. However, your gut twisted, a lump forming in your throat that took a moment to pass.

Exiting the bedroom, your steps were slow and dragging along the carpet. Confused as to why you were feeling upset, almost like there was a rain cloud hovering over your head.

Waiting for the coffee to heat, your mind began to wonder, trying to deduce what might be wrong but in reality, you were already aware, it had just never been this impactful before.

It had been your birthday a few days ago, Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party however, it was the nighttime activities that might have been the cause for your emotions. Not only were you the centre of attention during the fucking but it had been long, intense, mind-blowing sex that left you begging for more, of which your boyfriends were happy to oblige.

The mental headspace that a session like that gave you felt almost euphoric, nothing could be negative, even falling into a little bit of subspace following it, giving the sensation of floating, like being drunk. Then a couple of hours later with the unbalance of hormones (something Bucky had to explain), it would feel like depression with how low your mood would go as you experienced a subdrop. Luckily you were never far from the boys who regularly checked in on you anyway to give the support you desperately needed.

Concluding that this was the cause for how you were feeling, you should have contemplated waking either one of your boyfriends but the shame seemed to overpower any rational thought. You were your own worst enemy during these subdrops and the added exhaustion that was influencing your body, it was a toxic pair.

Steve and Bucky had made the weekend so incredibly special for you, every moment had a smile permanently stitched to your face so for it all to come crashing down and be this needy, depressed person, you were embarrassed and ashamed. The feeling would pass, and it always did so making the decision to just suck it up and keep it to yourself, they’d already done so much for you.

As you poured the now steaming hot coffee into the cup, you heard the recognisable sound of heavy footsteps approaching from behind and rather than being excited and giddy which was usually your reaction to your boyfriends, the heavy sensation only increased in your chest.

Unbeknownst to Steve, he padded into the kitchen, smiling upon seeing you with fresh coffee. Walking up behind your much shorter body, his hands cupped your hips, gently pulling you back into his muscular build, his handsome face dropping to give a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Good morning baby”, his voice was thick with sleep, croaking slightly. Trying to play along with it, leaning into his warmth, even though you wanted to run away and cry so he couldn’t see.

“Morning”.

As Steve spoke, he manoeuvred around you, finding his own cup to pour coffee into. “You’re up early, how are you feeling this morning?” his question was innocent but it caused your heart to pound.

“I’m fine”, you were thinking coherent thoughts to be able to think of an excuse for being up so early, usually being the last to rise. “How are you? Are you off to the gym?” referring to his attire and it wasn’t like he was travelling far with the homemade gym in the basement.

A subtle frown momentarily crossed over his expression at the monotone way you were answering his questions but he shrugged it away, you would tell him if something was wrong, putting it down to tiredness. “Yeah, need to work off some of the cake from this weekend”, he joked, a twinkle forming in his eye. “After that, I’m all yours”.

“I had you all weekend”, you were quick to take a drink of your coffee, even as it was too hot and slightly scorched your tongue. Steve squinted at you in curiosity, noting your flat tone once more.

“You can have me every second of every day if that makes you happy” he admitted softly, brushing his lips against your forehead. It did make you happy but with the mood you were in, you felt selfish and guilty for this. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’m just tired, I might go back to bed”, this was a lie but he seemed to accept it, kissing your cheek once more for comfort and then heading off towards the gym. Finally being on your own, and getting what you wanted it would be an assumption to presume this would make you feel any better but it only made you feel worse. Not realising just how much you were depending on his warmth and the coolness returning to your skin as you sulked into the living room, turning on the TV to a random channel, not paying attention at all.

No, instead you stared into space, holding one of the decorative cushions to your body to try and fill the void that was aching your chest but this of course did nothing. The longer you were awake, the worst you were continuing to feel, emotionally and physically.

It was almost like being hungover, the anxiety that follows a heavy drinking session and the fatigue from the effects of alcohol, except there was no alcohol involved and you were feeling all of these effects just from a hormone imbalance.

As you continued to sit in your pity, Bucky had begun to descend the stairs in joggers and a white shirt, following the noise of the TV to find you sitting on the couch. He didn’t say a single word or notice the off-mood and simply reached your head over the back of the couch, tipping it back to peck your lips.

His touch had caused you to jump slightly having been lost in your thoughts and not heard him approaching but he was already walking into the kitchen, probably to pour his own morning drink, like he did every morning.

As if right on queue, the hulking form of the brunette returned to your eye line, smiling before taking a sip of his black coffee as he sat next to you. “What are you watching, mama?”

The lump had returned to your throat so instead of answering him, you shrugged your shoulders, not even looking at the TV, knuckles adding to the discomfort with how aggressively you held onto the pillow as if it was your lifeline.

Bucky wasn’t stupid, he knew were off the moment he saw you on the sofa, alone. Even without the glazed-over look in your eyes or the tension in your shoulders, he had known you for long enough to know what was going on. Carefully placing his cup onto the small table between the TV and the couch, Bucky sighed in frustration. Not that you were in this situation, but because you hadn’t come to him or Steve, wishing your anxiety would understand that they wanted to help and wouldn’t be annoyed or aggravated by you just simply needing them more than other days.

It was half expected anyway following the weekend, that's why Steve and Bucky had made sure that they were home today rather than in the office, making sure only to be contacted in case of emergency.

Not that this had even crossed your mind at all this morning, in fact, if asked, you couldn’t name what day it was in the week because all that consumed your mind was the hope for Bucky to get up and leave. Hope that he would find something he actually enjoyed doing instead of wasting another hour with you.

Of course, this was ridiculous thinking and if Bucky truly knew what was going through your self-sabotaged thoughts, he would probably sit you down for three hours and rant about how absurd and untrue this was.

“How are you feeling after the birthday weekend, it was slightly intense wasn’t it?” he asked casually, not taking his eyes off you for even a second.

“A bit”, was your only answer.

He continued to try and ask questions, hoping to draw some kind of a reaction of out you to engage just how severe this subdrop was and so far, it wasn’t looking that positive. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

Again, he referred to the activities from the weekend. Your response was half a shake of the head to say no but that was mostly for his benefit, desperate to not have him feeling bad because, in reality, your body was aching. Especially between your legs and upper arms from where they held you in a firm grip. It wasn’t like they hadn’t prepped but they were so much bigger than you, it always felt a little uncomfortable the day after and yesterday, you’d been begging for them to keep going, thriving in the pain mixed with pleasure. However now as the arousal was swept from your body, and feeling as fatigued as you did, it only emphasised the areas that were especially sensitive.

Judging by your demeanour, he contemplated continuing talking to you, to better understand the stand-offish behaviour but with the slight tremble rocking your body, this wasn’t what you needed.

Bucky instead opted to reach for the pillow, attempting to pull it away but you held on tightly, muttering that it was comfortable. The brunette didn’t relent, however, putting a little more strength until the pillow was firmly in his grip and being placed on the table.

Without missing a beat, Bucky was gently pulling on your arms, coaxing you into his lap. Before you could even straddle his hips, you began to sob, the emotions finally overwhelming you.

Grasping his shirt tightly, you cried heavily into Bucky’s t-shirt and he just held you, running his warm hand up and down your spine in slow circles whilst his metal hand rested on the back of your head.

You cried and cried until completely exhausted and only hiccups remained, eyes now sore and Bucky’s t-shirt soaked. Your boyfriend hadn’t asked you any further questions, he didn’t need to, having been right about his theory, Bucky knew you just needed to be close and present with him and Steve once he returned from the gym.

“You’re safe mama, I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere, I love you”. Bucky repeated these four statements repeatedly, over and over until his mouth was dry and even then continued until his fists loosed the grip of his t-shirt.

“I know you’re going to be feeling some negative emotions right now Doll but I need you to listen to me and believe what I’m saying. We love you, this feeling is going to pass and we’ll be right next to you the entire time.”

Bucky’s words did help to break down that mental barrier but now you were completely exhausted.

“What we are going to do first is go upstairs, I’m going to run you a hot bath then we’ll have some food, maybe have a midday nap, we can watch a movie or play a game. We are going to take today slowly but we’re not leaving your side, not until you’re feeling better, ok?”

With your eyes closed, you were only able to nod against his chest in response. His list of activities sounded perfect, the desire to run away having completely disappeared now which you were thankful for but it was only replaced with the sensation to be cradled to his body.

Luckily for you, Bucky knew this and was more than happy to mostly carry you up the stairs and into the master bathroom, settling you into the bathtub, and helping to discard your clothes before filling it up with water hot enough to relax your tense muscles. Bucky himself didn’t climb into the bath, instead sat on the floor, stroking his fingers across your head exactly how you liked it, smiling as your furrowed brows relaxed.

You could have fallen asleep right there and then, until Steve’s voice was drifting into your ears as he stood at the bathroom door, sweat dripping from his brow. “Everything ok?”

For the first time that day, you properly looked at Bucky, feeling slightly anxious at the thought of him having to tell Steve about the subdrop. But your boyfriend was quick to swipe away the negativity as he said in a low voice, “Remember what I said downstairs? About the list of activities, we’re doing today? Well Stevie here is going to take my place here and I’ll go and cook us some brunch, how does that sound?”

Surprisingly, the corner of your lips lifted into a subtle smile. Bucky beamed at this, the corner of his eyes creasing with the joy he was displaying before he reached across the kiss the tip of your nose and speak to Steve.

You couldn’t hear what was said but Steve was soon joining you in the bathroom and you sat and watched silently as he took off his gym attire. “Enjoying the view baby?” he asked teasingly before helping you to sit forward, giving him room to sit behind you in the water, eagerly pulling your body back to rest against his. “I love you” he whispered as he held you tightly.

If you weren’t so exhausted, you probably would have cried at even that smallest statement because it was all you wanted to hear.

Turning slightly in his embrace, once again you didn’t feel like talking, even though you wanted to repeat your love to him just as much as you had wanted to with Bucky, the words seemed to fail you. So instead you lay your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat thumping against your ear. Steve understood your intentions, knew these little signs that showed your vulnerability and made sure to tighten his grip slightly, making you feel enclosed more.

Unsure of how much time had passed, Steve eventually had to move the two of you to make sure you were both washed before the water cooled too much. Then once out of the water, he didn’t waste any time helping to dry your body in a large cream towel, dressing you in oversized pyjamas before even starting to care for himself. As the two of you returned downstairs, Bucky announced that brunch was nearly finished and from the smell, it was going to be delicious.

Throughout the entire time, you were attached to either Steve or Bucky, whether that was holding a hand or sitting on either of their laps and they made sure you didn’t do any chores such as washing up. It was important that you rested when feeling this low so straight after finishing the food, they situated into the living room, finding the TV still on from earlier.

You weren’t particularly bothered with whatever movie was selected. No, you were more distracted by the hulky sandwich they’d somehow squashed you into. Your legs were thrown over Steve’s lap, head laying on his shoulder and Bucky was spooning you from behind, it felt like there wasn’t one part of your body that wasn’t touching both of them and you loved it, not even needing a blanket to feel secure in.

Sleep came peacefully now, the ache in your chest having eased after all the comfort you’d been given. Your last thoughts before succumbing fully to sleep were how thankful you were to Steve and Bucky, looking forward to waking up with more energy so you could show them just how much you really loved them.

#mafia au #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky barnes #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky banes fanfic #mine*#bucky #marvel one shot #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut

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vetteltea · 6 months

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Strawberry tea: playing with Carlos’s hair omgggg

☕︎ strawberry tea

CS55 and 'playing. with. his. hair.'

Despite the three-week break, he’s utterly exhausted, and all you wanted to do was help him.

Between the constant simulator training, gym sessions and endless appearances for Ferrari’s media presence, Carlos was a ghost of himself; his smiles on each precious call fading by the moment, eyes dulling as each day passed away from his beloved.

You wanted to be there, of course you did. However, your relationship was fresh. New. You’d seen it go horrifically bad for other couples who had publiciced their relationship on the grid and the last thing either of you desired was for hate and opinions from the outside world to shatter your privacy.

That’s why you were there now; sat in his bed, Piñon resting at the foot of the bed, keeping you company in the soft bed sheets. You’d been so engrossed in paying the puppy attention, heart melting each time he nuzzled closer into the blankets that you didn’t hear the latch of the door, bedroom entrance opening and soft barks emitting from the furry companion.

Even sleep deprived, Carlos looked nothing but breathtaking. Dark tufts of hair were messy against his forehead, clad in a gray hoodie and dark track shorts. Every ache, every groan of his muscles is immediately relieved upon seeing you in his bed, a smile finally returning to his face as he lets his heavy bag drop to the floor.

“Mis bebés.” He’d murmured, running a gentle hand across the top of Pińon’s head, the dog relaxing into Carlos’ touch and ceasing his barking. Dark eyes then transfixed onto you, letting his body crawl across the soft fabric, arms collapsing when his face reached your lap, resting his head on your soft thighs.

“Oh, my baby.” You responded, hands placing down your now discarded book, softly stroking a hand across his warm scalp. He’s so strained, overworked to such a standard he can barely string five words together. Even now, nestled in the warmth of your thighs, the man is hyper-aware that his moment of bliss will come to an end; he’ll be whisked away back to fast cars and media stunts.

But for now, he can feel his tension melt away, seep out of his muscles as your strong fingers massage his head, trailing through his dark tufts, brushing the locks away from his forehead. An audible moan falls from his lips, the feeling sent him to another place, entirely in a new headspace from the contact.

His head immediately snapped up the moment you stopped the contact, eyes widening at your sudden lack of attention. Tanned fingers interlock with your own, pulling your hand to rest back atop of his head. You can’t help the laugh which passes your lips, his head sinking back down into your lap now the contact has been restored.

“Better?” You’d softly hummed, feeling his nose nuzzle back into your leg, content to fall asleep in this position and awaken later, finally reunited with the woman who had undeniably stolen his heart.

“Better.”

part of the vetteltea 500 celebration!

#vetteltea 500 #CS #Carlos Sainz #Carlos Sainz x Reader #Carlos Sainz Imagine #Carlos Sainz One Shot #Carlos Sainz Blurb #CS55

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mclarengf · 2 months

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pas besoin d'un faux sourire

learning to parent with dad!logan sargeant

[1.0k]

note: haha enjoy more angst. dw this one’s not an ambiguous ending it def gets fluffy. dad!logan save me fr

lottie’s crying.

she doesn’t cry very often, which only adds to your concern.

you’d run into the living room when you heard lottie’s soft cry of, “mummy…” and now you’re sat on the couch with her, whispering consolations into her hair.

as if on cue, the front door opens and logan steps in, finally home after a few days of doing sim work in the uk. after taking in the situation, he parks his suitcase in front of the shoe rack and rushes to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder in support. what a welcome, he must be thinking.

“hey, sweetheart, daddy’s home. daddy’s here,” he says to your daughter softly, “what’s wrong, my lottie?”

you crouch down and hold out your hand for lottie. you’re a bit surprised she can see through her tears when she takes it, but wrap her in a big hug regardless.

“what’s upset you, baby?”

she just buries her head in the crook of your neck and cries harder.

you can’t see anything broken or spilt around you, and lottie doesn’t look hurt. you gesture vaguely at logan to take her temperature because you can’t reach her face without shifting and risking her discomfort. he side steps a toy strewn on the floor and presses the back of his hand to her forehead. he comes back into your field of view and shakes his head.

you’ve never felt more inadequate than you do right now. you have no idea why lottie’s so upset, and logan, bless him, isn’t exactly prepared to help in this situation. he’s just gotten back and probably drove the thirty minutes from nice côte d’azur expecting… not this.

“logan,” he looks up, much resembling a deer in headlights, “could you get us a wet flannel please?”

you’re giving him an out to leave the room and get into the right headspace to do some ‘proper parenting’, he realises. he ducks out, but not before placing a hand over his heart and mouthing a thank you as he goes.

he’s back in a couple of minutes, having also taken the opportunity to change out of his plane clothes, and joins his girls on the carpet.

“come here, lottie-lou,” you allow her dad to hold onto her, and you shuffle closer to him as he washes her face with the cloth, wiping her tears away as he does so.

“can you tell daddy what’s wrong?” you ask, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

she shakes her head.

“that’s okay, baby,” logan chimes in, “we can just sit here for a bit, yeah?”

you rest your head down on his shoulder as you sit in silence, save lottie’s quiet sobs. it’s never been exceptionally easy being parents, nevertheless at your relatively young age. lottie’s usually such a gem, so the moments like this are hard to get through, for all of you.

she’s getting quieter as the two of you comfort her, but it doesn’t seem like there’ll be an end to the tears just yet. logan kisses your cheek; he doesn’t know quite what to do either, so you’ll just have to figure it out together.

another few minutes pass by, then you hear her take in a big breath and mumble, “i miss my home.”

ah, of course. you’d all moved from london to monaco about a month ago, on account of location convenience for logan’s job, and the educational opportunities for lottie. the tax benefits weren’t exactly a complaint either.

lottie hadn’t had any qualms about the move so far, so you’d both figured she was adjusting alright. she’d even been excited, but of course, the realisation that this wasn’t like a race weekend or a holiday where she would be sure to return to your humble london flat, was bound to kick in eventually.

little by little as she calms down, lottie tells you about how even though she knows a little bit of french from you, it’s not enough to really talk with the other kids, and that the teachers are nice but she doesn’t want to cause a fuss and keep bothering them every day.

“i’m sorry,” she whispers.

you shake your head and open your mouth to speak, but logan beats you to it.

“you don’t have to be sorry, baby. it’s okay if you feel bad sometimes.”

you press a kiss to her hands and add, “you just have big emotions, my love. just like me.”

she’s stopped crying now, and even smiles a bit when you bring up your similarity.

“if you want, lottie love, we can find you a tutor here who can help with your french, and you and i can always practise at home.”

she nods at your proposition, then wrinkles her nose and asks, “what about daddy?”

lottie, selfless as ever, is already thinking about how to include logan. you want to laugh just thinking about logan learning french and even more so, him speaking french with his american accent.

“we’ll rope him into learning with us too,” you grin at logan, “now come on, let’s give daddy a big hug, 'cause we’ve missed him very much while he’s been working.”

logan smiles at his little family and wraps his arms around both of you, happy that peace has been restored. he takes lottie’s face in his hands and covers her in kisses, making her giggle.

“you wanna help me unpack now, lottie-lou?”

she jumps up and runs toward logan’s suitcase at her dad’s suggestion, and starts wheeling it towards your bedroom. you and logan, still sat on the floor, watch her go. you give him a kiss.

“welcome home, handsome. sorry that’s what you came in to.”

he looks down at you and breathes out a laugh. instead of saying anything, he just holds his hand out for a high-five, which you humor. he lets go of you to push himself up, and helps you up after.

before he follows after your daughter, he slings an arm over your shoulder and states, “we’re such awesome parents.”

it’s your turn to laugh now, and you reward him with a couple of quick pecks on his lips. you push him to go to lottie before she starts calling for him, and give him a cheeky pat to the bum as he stumbles forward.

“je t’aime, baby.”

okay; now that that’s sorted, what to have for dinner?

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mrsquill · 7 months

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Alone and Forsaken

Summary: Joel is on his way to bail Tommy out of Travis County jail, having left Sarah behind sleeping. He soon realises something has gone terribly wrong with the world, and he and Tommy are desperate to save her. Basically: my interpretation of the truck journey back to the Millers to rescue Sarah, on the night of the outbreak in the HBO version. Based on this piece I wrote.

Notes: This took it out of me: I rewatched both the HBO series and the game scenes leading up to/after this to get into the right headspace, and it really did a number on me. This follows the events of the show, however feel free to interpret it however you wish! Please don’t hate me - this fic is quite sad, so please don’t continue if you feel it’ll upset you. Special thanks to @mandrillusphinx for the idea.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mentions of violence and blood, potentially distressing content.

Slamming the truck door harder than he meant to, Joel cursed his little brother under his breath. Fuckin’ Tommy. Couldn’t even keep his shit together on his birthday. He knew it’d been a bad idea as he’d watched Tommy go earlier that night; they’d had a shitty day at work, the hours dragging on, more and more problems cropping up on site. His brother’s solution? Head into the city when they were done, hit a couple bars and drink till his back didn’t hurt anymore. Tommy knew better than to invite Joel. He’d never had that kind of freedom; becoming a father unexpectedly at 22 would do that to anyone - not that Joel resented it for a moment.

He thought of his daughter, now, as he headed along the highway towards Travis County jail to bail his shithead brother out, ready for Tommy’s lazy excuses. Guilt pooled in his stomach. The fuckin’ cake. The fuckin’ watch. Sarah was his blessing; his biggest achievement, and more often than not he felt he was letting her down as another year of fatherhood passed him by. She was growing up, blossoming into a young woman, as beautiful as her mother had been before her. He knew he ought to treasure the twilight years of just the two of them. Joel was seeing his baby through college and beyond, no doubt about that.

He couldn’t forget Sarah’s words, eating away at him as they had been for the last hour or so as he struggled to concentrate on Curtis & Viper 2, her other birthday gift. You were never gonna do it for yourself. Joel tried to escape the notion that his kid was doing a better job of parenting than he was. His baby was polite, popular; Joel swelled with pride at parent teacher conferences and at school pickups, overhearing comments from some of the other parents. She’d had to grow up quicker than her peers, and she’d taken it in her stride.

He resolved to take a couple days off that weekend; head out hiking with Sarah like they did every year for his birthday. It was their favourite thing to do together, and he hadn’t made enough effort so far this year. Joel needed to make the most of it before he lost her entirely to soccer practice and sleepovers, or when she inevitably thought she was too cool to hang out with her old man. Tommy already did a good enough job of making him feel like a fuckin’ dinosaur. Small steps first, though: don’t forget the fuckin’ cake. Again.

Joel sighed; scrubbing a hand over his face, weary to the bone as he tried to concentrate on his driving. It was only then, pulled from his reverie, that he noticed the stream of traffic flooding past. Cop car lights dazzled him; he counted a dozen in less than a minute, speeding erratically on the highway. He felt the smallest frisson of fear. What the fuck? An accident? A bomb? Police activity in Austin on a Friday night was not unusual, but the numbers were unnerving. He was driving into in the city now; a journey he knew like the back of his hand. But as he travelled further; Joel began to feel a strange sort sickness, unimaginable chaos unfolding before him.

It all happened so fast. It flashed by as he headed for the jail on autopilot: cops scuffling with bystanders on the sidewalk, smashed glass and smeared blood, and people running - sprinting - seemingly for their lives. In every direction, with no thought for the road or whatever may be on it, any sense of human instinct totally abandoned. Bodies on the floor as helicopters thundered loudly overhead; white beams casting a horrifying light on the scene playing out before him. Joel turned the radio up, chasing an explanation; terror sliding down his spine like sweat in the summertime. A monotonous voice filled the cab of the truck: “This is a National Security Alert. Return to your homes, and stay there. Further instructions will be announced in due course. This is a National-“ he switched it off, heart leaping into his mouth. Sarah.

Joel rounded the corner much too fast; headlights miraculously landing on Tommy, eyes wild as he sprinted toward the truck, people fleeing into the darkness around him. “Move the fuck over, Joel! Let me drive!” his brother was yelling, and Joel slid across the bench, half in shock. “How’d you get out-“ Joel began, but Tommy was firm, temporarily more composed than his older brother. The military man in him. “Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, Joel. We gotta get outta here, away from all these people,” he said darkly, pulling off the sidewalk. “Where’s Sarah?” he asked, wiping sweat off his brow. “At home, asleep,” Joel whispered, feeling bile rise in his throat.

Tommy cursed loudly, foot to the floor as he navigated out of the city; Joel tried to center his breathing, anxiety washing over him in an endless tide. He couldn’t drag his eyes from the windows. People hunched over bodies.. Robbing them? Murdering them? Was it some kind of poisoning in the water supply? Psychedelic drugs gone wrong? Protesting taken too far? Civil unrest? Cars were rammed into one another, power lines were faltering and storefronts were on fire. “Tommy, what the fuck is happenin’? What do you know?” Joel demanded. He hated the loss of control; the world was falling apart around him and he’d left his daughter at home. Alone. Defenceless. In the one place she should be safe.

“I overheard a nurse, sayin’ it could be some sorta new virus, people attackin’ each other and shit like that,” Tommy rambled nervously, “You remember that stuff goin’ on in Jakarta? On the radio this mornin’? Well, looks like it’s happenin’ here.” Joel did remember his birthday breakfast that morning. It felt like a different life, a million miles away, a normalcy that had been torn to shreds. Reprimanding Sarah for the egg shells, hustling her out the door for school. Sarah. His baby. “I left her, Tommy. I fuckin’… I just left her, in her bed,” Joel muttered, anger at himself curled in his chest.

“You lock the door?” his brother asked, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Of course I did,” Joel spat, watching - waiting - for each street sign and junction, counting down the minutes. “She’ll be fine,” Tommy tried to quietly reassure him, “bet ya she won’t’ve moved an inch.” Joel ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, dripping in sweat, praying his brother was right. She’d be there, sure she would. Curled up with her sneakers on still. Right where he’d left her. Nobody could get into the house, he knew that much. Not unless they tried very fucking hard.

The disorder seemed to dissipate a little as they headed away from the city center; a tiny comfort. “Joel, this guy at the bar? The reason they called the fuckin’ cops?” Tommy started, “I ain’t ever seen shit like that in my life. I couldn’t stand there and let it happen. Dude was fuckin’ crazy, tryin’ to bite this waitress. Like he had a disease or some shit. He was twitchin’ all over, too. Maybe it’s a parasite,” he shrugged.

The blood in Joel’s veins had long since turned to ice, his brother’s story solidifying it. “Tommy, you fuckin’ get us home, and you get us there now,” Joel urged, feeling his heartbeat accelerating. His daughter’s name was a mantra in his head, repeating with each frantic thrum of his pulse. He was taking charge; Sarah needed him, and so did his brother. He hadn’t failed them yet, and he sure wasn’t gonna start now. “Rifle in the back?” he asked, Tommy nodding solemnly. Joel leaned over, grateful for something to do. Five minutes till home.

Equipping himself with a wrench, Joel urged Tommy on. Images flicked over and over in his brain like a sickening picture show: Sarah, her dark eyes - his eyes - wide with fear, her breath quickening, screaming for him, her father, who’d abandoned her in the darkness. No. He shook his head, physically, ridding himself of the nightmare. “What about the neighbours, Joel?” Tommy asked. “The Adlers? Denise, and the kids? Should we warn ‘em? Take ‘em with us?” Joel shook his head; again, more furiously this time. “Like hell, Tommy. We don’t even have a fuckin’ plan. Best we can do is tell them to stay inside,” he said irritably, guilt ever-present and swirling in his guts.

“So, what do we do?” Tommy asked plainly, earlier bravado deserting him. It always worked this way. Whatever Joel said, Tommy did. “I don’t.. I don’t know,” Joel mumbled, voice cracking. “We grab Sarah and we get the fuck out. No time for anythin’ else.” Tommy was nodding; orders received and heard. “Get a fuckin’ move on, Tommy!” Joel slammed a hand on the dash.

The cul-de-sac loomed into view: it was eerily, deathly quiet, besides a car alarm in the distance. “Come on, come on,” Joel pleaded, adrenaline coursing through him, homing in on his daughter. His purpose, all that mattered in the world. “There, Joel. I can see her!” Tommy pointed up ahead, outside the Adlers. Sarah was running. Fleeing, like he’d seen everybody do in the city. From the unknown, from danger, from death. But she was alive: her face caught in the glow of the headlights. Terrified and alone. But Joel was here now. He’d save her. Because he didn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t.

#joel miller #sarah miller #tommy miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #sarah miller fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #my stuff

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byuntrash101 · 1 year

Text

streaming: cloud 9

reader x dom!yeosang

smut | nsfw | mdni

streamer!yeosang, dom!yeosang, being on camera (you make dirty vids for your bf), masturbation (m & f), toys, anal, edging, double penetration (dick and toy), unprotected sex, degradation (ys says whore once but degrading words are used about the reader in the naration), orgasm control, begging, squirting.

requested | part of my 2023 prompts event [closed]

you decide to test your boyfriend's nerves while he's live streaming

[❛ i’ve been thinking about you all day. ❜ + ❛ show me how much you missed me. ❜]

TUMBLR IS BASED ON REBLOGS. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK 🖤

Yeosang has had enough. He thinks as he locks his phone. He has to find an excuse to close down the live faster than usual because he can't take it anymore. He can't sit there to suffer to watch another one of the videos you've been sending him for the past two hours…

It started out like a teasing just a video of you playing with your hair smiling to the camera. Something pretty innocent, to get your boyfriend’s attention. But it escalated quickly by the 6th video, you were two knuckles deep in your heat your arousal pooling out of you with long stretchy strings like a waterfall and coating your inner thighs. Yeosang was very careful to watch every video on mute but dear God how he wanted to hear you. Hear you pant under him as he replaced your fingers with his own and kissed the tears of overwhelming pleasure away as you came undone for him.

He couldn't stand anymore to vainly try to focus back on the game that he now regarded as the most dull and uninteresting activity while your simplest form occupied his mind. He felt like he could burst out of his pants at any second. Fighting the irrepressible idea to palm himself over his gray sweats only because he knew if he started he would be really unable to focus and lose every game.

But that was enough now he thought. He had suffered enough. For God’s sake he was working! He needed to somehow find a way to focus back on the live, make sure not to let a new sub or donation go by unnoticed and provide adequate commentary on the game. He was about to flip the phone screen down to shut you off but it vibrated again in his palm.

This time it was a call. A video call. He double checks the sound again making sure you're muted before picking up. It takes everything he has left in him to remain completely unfazed in front of the camera when he is greeted with your flushed face riding one of the toys he got you for valentines day. Wearing one of his official merch t-shirts, fingers tightly holding the hem and lifting the material up to make sure your boyfriend sees exactly how you ride the toy, occasionally letting one of your breasts jump into sigh before disappearing again behind the t-shirt.

You are sinful. Yeosang can't believe his lovely and adorable girlfriend would go to all these lengths just to make him suffer. To get his attention.

Thankfully he perfectly manages to keep his composure, as he watches you fuck yourself stupid on the dildo, cock straining against his jeans, precum seeping from the slit.

He sees you move your lips, speaking to him. but he can't hear. He can only imagine the sinful things slipping off your lips as you whore yourself out to the phone camera, lust taking your mind over, pleasure forcing you into the headspace Yeosang has seen you go in so many times before.

But he was sick of watching through the tiny phone screen. He wanted to hear, he wanted to feel you.he wanted to testify with his own eyes what kind of depraved slut you were for him.

He hung up and in a couple of minutes he found a shitty ass excuse to turn off the stream. He jumped off his chair and walked with long strides to the bedroom. He passed his shirt over his head, leaving it in the hall. As he got closer to the bedroom he could hear you getting nearer, your moans already reaching a pitch he knew you could only manage when you were on the verge of coming undone.

When he barged in the room you jumped in surprise, head whipping in the direction of the sound, sweat dripping down your temples, glossy eyes fluttering close, lust pooling inside them.

“Did you cum yet?” he asked as he unzipped his pants. Urgency soaking his voice. He doesn't have the time for the preliminary dirty talk. He needs you. Now.

You shook your head.

"No" you started sheepishly. Like you weren't not splitting yourself open on camera a second ago. "Wanna cum with you" you managed to form these words with great effort, your walls gripping the purple silicon toy between your thighs.

A wide satisfied smile spread on Yeosang’s lips.

“Good girl” he praised as he pulled down his jeans and boxers in one go, stepping out of them and approaching the bed. He rubbed your cheeks with his thumb. You rested your back against his chest as he climbed up the bed behind you.

“You really think you can tease me like this for hours and get away with it?” you whine in response as Yeosang slipped a hand under the oversized t-shirt. The doodle doberman logo folding under his hand fondling your breast.

“Yeo- hmm…sangie” you whined again letting the back of your head rest on his strong muscular shoulder, your trembling thighs barely holding you anymore.

“Did I tell you to stop? Keep riding it baby” Yeosang instructed as he pinched your sensitive nipple harden into a small bud.

“Okay” you agreed, voice a mere shaky whisper as you felt him lay a firm hand between your shoulder blades, gently pushing you forward and down until your cheek was flat against the mattress and you had your ass up in the air.

“Go ahead baby. Fuck yourself up for me” he voice was strained, low and commanding. The tone setting your soul ablaze.

You heard him spit in his hand and he started to jerk himself off. You went back to shake your hips on the toy, completely making the purple silicon disappear inside you to emerge back again while Yeosang watched from behind you, a sinful grin playing at his lips. He enjoyed seeing the dildo stretching your throbbing little cunt out, watching your perfect ass bounce up and down for him.

“What a mess you made” he commented, eyeing the long strings of arousal stretching between you and the toy coating your thighs and pussy all the way up to your ass.

“Yeosang please” you said out of breath. Your boyfriend understood you were asking for permission to cum.

“Not yet, baby. Not without me”

You stopped moving when you felt his hot tip glide across your wet skin, nesting itself between your right thigh and the toy, gathering the innommable mess you made and you felt him going up your cheeks. You gasped when you felt him poking at your rim.

“Looks like there room for me right there”

It took everything you had not to cum on the spot when you felt him push inside your hole. A long string of profanities slipping off his lips as he stretched you out to fit him perfectly. You felt him rub against the toy inside you, both competing to fill you up and Yeoang was undeniably winning at this game.

You felt a single sob shake your body when he fitted the last inch inside you. You’ve been edging yourself for hours now and you could just cry from the frustration of it all. You started to move up and down the toy again. You wanted only one thing.

“Please fuck me Yeo” you aske, desperation dripping from every word.

Yeosang started right away, both hands wrapped around your waist to pull you on his length and push you off again. Snapping his hips into yours, the sound of wet skin clashing echoing in the room.

“That's what you wanted, huh?”

“Yessss” you cried. Angling your ass a little bit higher up to feel him even deeper inside you.

“Wanted my cock up your ass while you fuck yourself stupid like this?”

You only whined back, feeling Yeosang’s bruising grip onto your side as he went even faster.

“Are you satisfied? Are two dicks enough for my cock hungry whore of a girlfriend?” He growled. His veiny warm hands leaving your waist to wrap around your neck. His fingers pressing just the right amount at the right place to not restrict your breathing but enough to make you light headed.

Yeosang felt you clench your ass around him, every ring of it constricted him deliciously. Until he was also ready to cum for you.

“Please. Yeo” you whined again, barely able to hold yourself back anymore. At this pace and with this angle there was no way you could hold back any longer. And you knew it wasn’t a good idea to cum without permission. You suffered the consequences before and you knew after edging for this long you couldn't handle two more hours of overstimulation. Your boyfriend forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you until you couldn’t think, walk or talk.

“Now baby.” Yeosang grunted, feeling himself closer to his high than ever. “Cum on both cocks now.” He growled, deep voice pushing you over the edge.

Your orgasm washed over you like a wave and took with it the last strand of sanity you had left. Completely ripping through your body as you shook under your boyfriend. Your asshole throbbing around him, gripping him so tightly he swore it could have snapped his dick in two.

“Thank you thank you thank you” you blurted mindlessly finally grasping something you’ve had in reach for hours, letting the bliss win over you as you felt your cum gush out of you like a waterfall completely soiling the bed beneath you but it didn’t matter to either of you.

“Fuckkk baby” Yeosang grunted as he pulled out. Only having the time to pump his fist a couple of times on his hard and slick cock until he completely bursted all over you. Shooting thick white ropes of cum to decorate your pulsing gaping hole, dripping down onto your pussy still full with the purple toy, your asscheeks and some even crashing on the official merch t-shirt you were still wearing.

Yeosang crashed next to you on the bed. While you lifted your hips, taking the toy out and kicking it over the edge of the bed. Your boyfriend wrapped his muscular arms around your waist.

“I had to cut the live short because of you” he started, still catching his breath. You chuckled in response. “So you’re sleeping on the wet spot”

“Hey!”

a/n: this is the poll winner! i hope you guys liked it! dont hesitate to tell me because i just love hearing from you guys okay ? <3

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jacksdinonuggets · 2 months

Text

~Fight Nights~

Y'ALL I HAD AN IDEA AND I WROTE IT.

Summary: Vaggie has a fight with Charlie and needs comfort. However, the only other person she can run to is Carmilla

Vaggie stormed out of the hotel, angry, and on the brink of tears. She and Charlie had just gotten into a fight. They didn’t fight often so it really affected them when they did. The reason that they fought? Vaggie was suppressing her negative emotions again, therefore keeping a secret. This made Charlie pretty upset since she wanted them to have a mutual relationship and not just one protector. However, Vaggie viewed herself as someone who couldn’t show weakness so she got pretty worked up when Charlie confronted her about it. She didn’t mean to turn it into an argument. It just sort of happened.

Anyways, she just really needed comfort from someone and the only other person she could really go to was carmilla. She had been taking fighting lessons once a week with her and sometimes, she would even teach a little bit of ballet so she could learn to dance-fight. At first, they would just go back and forth with returning weapons and paying some loans and business stuff but then they started to get a bit personal. Sometimes, if Vaggie was having a bad day, Carmilla would invite her into her office and they would talk about whatever was bothering her before they practiced.

So, still slightly pissed and more emotional than ever, she walked to her warehouse that was also just her normal house. She knocked on the big metal doors, hanging her head low. Now was not the time to cry.

The doors opened after a couple of seconds and Carmilla greeted her at the door.

“Vaggie, what brings you here? It is not our normal practice day,” She questioned as she urged the girl inside.

“I just-... I needed someplace safe to cool down. Me and Charlie had a fight,” Vaggie explained. Talking had never seemed as hard as it did at that moment. It felt like with every word she was about to break down into tears. Usually, if she was feeling like this, she would go to Charlie and the two would cuddle, spend time together, or have little time. But she couldn’t because she felt wrong for having to want comfort from the person she just fought with. It would be awkward and strange.

Carmilla sighed, “How about you meet me in my office and i’ll bring up a cup of tea. Then you can tell me all about it, ‘kay?” Vaggie nodded and started walking up the stairs. She passed the big doors that lead into the main house area and went towards the office.

As Vaggie was waiting, she could feel her headspace teetering. It was a weird feeling to want to be taken care of and comforted by basically a stranger. But somehow she grew sort of attached to her.

When Carmilla returned, she had two cups of tea in her hand. She gave one to Vaggie, who was sitting on the couch. She nodded a thank you and took a sip. Carmilla sat next to her and put her’s on the coffee table.

“Alright, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” she prompted. Vaggie took a deep breath and began.

“Charlie had begun to notice that i was hiding my vulnerable emotions and lying whenever she would ask if i was okay. I get overwhelmed easily but I would say i was fine whenever someone would ask, just to not be seen as weak. Well, she noticed and confronted me about it. We got into this huge fight and she brought up how i haven’t regressed-” Shit, she can’t tell her that. That’s too personal. Plus, what if she thinks its weird? “Uh- I mean used this one coping mechanism in a month or two and that i was repressing it,” wow, great save there.

“Anyways, she hit a few nerves that I know she probably regrets. I said a few things I’m not proud of, but it still hurts. Its like, I really want a hug but I can’t get it because she’s the only one I have who can comfort and love me!” Vaggie spiraled. At this point, she didn’t even care that she was talking to a dangerous overlord. She just needed to rant. And rant she did.

“Would it make you feel better if I gave you a hug?” Carmilla offered. She saw how Vaggie looked as though she desperately needed one. It was like looking at a small panicking child. You just needed to help them. In a way, Vaggie reminded her of her daughters. And Carmilla reminded Vaggie of a mother in a way. Not like she’s ever known hers, being a heavenborn orphan whose only family consisted of exorcists who bullied her.

Vaggie nodded. Carmilla wrapped her arms around the small, short girl and gave a reassuring squeeze. Vaggie had never wanted to cry more than did right now. It was overwhelming. But not exactly in a bad way. She felt this strange, clingy emotion towards her.

Carmilla was about to pull away but she felt something stopping her. Vaggie’s arms were gripping her waist like her life depended on it and she could feel something wet on her collarbone where Vaggie had her head. She hadn’t even noticed the girl start crying. But nonetheless, she rubbed her back and comforted her, just like she would with her daughters.

“Shh, it's okay, I’ve got you,” she whispered in a soothing motherly tone, the one she never uses with strangers or in combat.

Vaggie’s headspace dipped so far when those words were spoken. She felt so small, like a toddler in Carmilla’s big embrace.

“Mama..” Vaggie mumbled into her chest. It was very muffled and quiet though.

Carmilla noticed the words spoken from vaggie and knew that the girl’s headspace had dropped. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what regression was.

“Mama’s here, sweetie,” she gently told her.

The two hugged for what seemed to be 5 minutes until Vaggie calmed down. She didn’t want to let go though. It felt so good to feel loved.

“It seems like it’s past your bedtime, little one,” she said when they pulled apart. Vaggie pouted but was noticeably tired. It was about 9:30 and her little brain could only stay up so late.

“Come on, I’ve got a spare room you can use.” she stood up and signalled for her to follow her. However, she Vaggie was having some trouble standing. She kept falling over. Having one eye and being small didn’t mix well for balance.

Carmila bent over and picked her up. She held her by her hip as she carried her out of the office, their tea forgotten. She walked towards the big doors that led to the main house area. When she opened the doors, Clara and Odette were sitting in the living room on the couch. They looked up to see their mother carrying the princesses girlfriend? It confused them but Carmilla mouthed ‘I’ll explain later’.

When they approached the guest room, Carmilla was able to hold Vaggie with one hand for about a second to open the door. They didn’t have any spare pajamas so Vaggie would have to sleep in her current clothes. They didn’t seem too uncoomfortable though.

Carmila laid her down in the bed and pulled the covers over her, tucking her in.

“Wha’ bout Char-Char?” Vaggie rubbed her eyes. The big kid in her knew that Charlie would be expecting her to be home in about an hour and would definitely begin freaking out if she wasn’t home by then.

“I’ll let her know you’re staying the night,” Carmilla said in a hushed voice, “For now, its ni-ni,”

Once she was done tucking her in she turned off the lights and left, but not before cracking the door just in case Vaggie needed anything during the night. Then, she went back downstairs to explain the situation to her daughters. They seemed pretty okay with it and promised not to spread it, as Carmilla knew it was something she’d probably like to keep a secret. In the end, Carmila never expected to be the mother of three, yet here she was.

#agere fanfic #agere writing #safe agere #sfw agere #age regression #hazbin hotel agere #sfw littlespace #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel carmilla #carmilla carmine #Carmilla Carmine is Vaggie's caregiver #hazbin hotel age regression #hazbin hotel littlespace

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aita-blorbos · 2 months

Note

aita for killing my sister?

took a lot of guts to tell my friends this, which is why i’m putting it on anonymous now that i’m telling you

and yes, unfortunately, you read that correctly. i (m, 16) killed my sister (f, 15) when i was still 12. she died at 15, so that’s what i’ll put for the age

to provide some context and background, i am in a group of friends consisting of 6 people at the time. now only 5

all of us are 16 except for one of the people in this friend group (m, 19) and overall we got along pretty well. we still do now but things aren’t the same, we are slowly rebuilding our bond.. and we are grieving together

now, let me just preface this.. me and my sister were the best of friends, we had the best bond out of anyone we knew. i didn’t kill her on purpose, i never would

so let’s get onto that i guess

basically, we were practicing for our recital for the past few days, she plays the piano and i play the violin. and because of her perfectionism i threw my violin down the stairs, being too stressed and um..

you know, threw it down

she got mad at me, and we argued for a good while until i was tired of it, trying to walk back to my room but she got in my way.. so um, i pushed her out of the way and

she fell down the stairs

i don’t think she would’ve died if it wasn’t for the violin, probably just a mild injury

my friend (m, 16 now but 12 at the time) was there, i don’t remember why.. it was 4 years ago, and it’s all a blur now. but, he was there, and we both tried to wake up my sister

but she wouldn’t wake up

we dragged her into bed because at the time we didn’t realise she was dead, and so much time passed.. so he came up with a plan, telling me that we should make it seem as if she killed herself so we don’t get in trouble

i followed through, because i didn’t know what else i could do

for the past 4 years, my friends were deceived, and i was isolating myself inside of my house. i wasn’t taking care of myself, and all i wanted to do was sleep, sleep, sleep and more sleep

i no longer wanted to face the outside world, i regressed into my mind, which i dubbed headspace. it had all the younger versions of my friends, all being the ages they were when the accident happened

i had a different name in there, but my friends kept their names. and all sorts of adventures happened.. there’s too much to explain when it comes to that, but let’s just say i had and still do have a wild imagination

after the 4 years were up, one day one of my friends (m, 16) knocked on the door, gesturing for me to come outside and hang out with him as our house was being sold in only a couple of days

i followed through, and felt a lot more happier alongside him. we encountered my old friends too, and um.. yeah

one night when we were sleeping over at my accomplice’s house, while everyone else was asleep he confronted me and well..

he blinded me in one of my eyes, and because of that i fought back

i was sent to the hospital, and so was he

at the hospital, i confessed to my friends. all of them being upset but eventually being able to forgive me, i felt the heavy weight of this guilt lift off of my shoulders.. and finally felt as if there were people there to help me

nowadays we are still very good friends, it just took a while for them to forgive me, which i understand. some longer than others, and some shorter than others, especially the friend who convinced me to come outside..

so.. um, am i the asshole?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality #suicide mention #eye trauma mention

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sunflowersandsapphires · 8 months

Text

Set Heaven on Fire

Wake Up, Chapter 7

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: implied non-con/sexual assault, misogynistic language, swearing, angst

a/n: I feel really unsure about this chapter so PLEASE like, comment, and/or reblog to tell me you like it! Some angst (before the hurt) before the fluff.

w/c: 3.3k

A heather gray pea coat passed through your peripheral vision and the sight, combined with the wafts of that deep sticky cologne, made you catch your breath.

Told you that I’d come for you, Princess.

Eyes darting around wildly, you meekly shuffled forward in line, inching closer to the hotel employee who looked as frantic as you felt. Breathing as deeply as you could, you tried to calm your stuttering heart. Why did I ever agree to this?? What if he’s here?

You and Matt were currently checking in at the venue of the annual Criminal Law Conference. A conference that you normally wouldn’t attend—especially since you were approaching a year as volunteer coordinator and thus the anniversary of the internal investigation that had ended so poorly—but this event was a rather intimate affair and attendees were encouraged to bring their partners. Matt had practically begged you to come, and you were not immune to his signature puppy dog eyes. According to him and Foggy, there were educational sessions and discussion forums during the day, but prestigious networking events at night—similar to the gala you'd attended together so long ago. You couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of that dreadful night.

Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you into a solid chest. With a small squeak, you allowed yourself to fall against the warm body behind you.

“Breathe, sweet girl.” The deep rumble spilled from Matthew Murdock’s lips, giving you a point of focus. You dutifully obeyed his instructions, inhaling a strong breath and letting it out slowly.

“That’s my good girl,” Matt purred, warming your body with his subtle flirt. “What’s got you so worked up, angel?” You could feel the eyes of the other attorneys in line falling on the pair of you.

“Dunno.” You murmured in response, shifting in his arms so you could bury your face in his neck to hide from the crowd’s collective gaze. “I just…thought I saw someone.”

“Snyder?” Matt’s brow pinched as he took his focus off of you for a moment to search for any sign of the crone.

“Uh, yah.” You whispered, but your heartbeat stumbled. Why were you lying? Who had you thought you’d seen? Was it just a cover because he was the one making you nervous? Oh god, he was totally making you nervous.

“The line is moving again.” Your quiet, anxious voice cascaded over him once more and he decided to drop the inquiry, for now. You didn’t seem to be in a great headspace for an interrogation.

“Thanks, angel. Guide me?” He gave a pronounced pout, coupled with his aforementioned puppy dog eyes, hoping the expression would lighten your mood. It seemed to work marginally as he heard the small smile in your sweet voice as you spoke again.

“Always, love.” You carefully untangled yourself from his grasp, sliding his left hand to the crook of your right elbow. The two of you moved forward with the crowd, your place in line just shy of the front desk at this point.

“412, 414, 416. We’re in this room here. Hold my bag for a second?” You waited for Matt’s nod before handing over your suitcase so that you could insert the key card in the door.

Once inside, and away from the prying eyes of your colleagues, you felt the tension seep out of your body. Matt’s hand slipped from your arm, making you frown. He walked into the room ahead of you.

“Sorry for all the PDA back there, everyone was looking so I…” His voice was soft, almost nervous.

Sitting on the bed, he removed his glasses and nervously rubbed at his face.

“That’s not what made me anxious, Matty. I promise.” You plopped down next to him, leaning onto his shoulder. With one hand on the small of his back, you nudged his chin with a single finger so that your foreheads could rest against each other.

“You’re sure?” The undercurrent of fear in his tone didn’t go unnoticed. Matt’s self-doubt didn’t rear its head often around you at the beginning of your pretend relationship, but, as he began to trust you implicitly, he couldn’t quite keep his personal demons at bay. Thankfully, you were more than willing to reassure him when his worries surfaced.

“Absolutely certain, darling. You know that I get stressed in crowds. Besides, I could never complain about being held by the Matthew Murdock. Do you know how many women would kill for that opportunity?” You poked his cheek, making him smile.

The lawyer blushed, ducking his head with a small grin. You grinned at him in return. “It’s true. They’re practically lining up just to catch a meager glance from you.”

Matt snickered. “I don’t know about lining up…”

You looked at him, face softening. “I’m very lucky to have a fake boyfriend like you, darling. I think about that a lot.” Your heart rate picked up as Matt moved closer.

“You think about me a lot?” Matt’s eyes were dancing with heated mirth and it sent a jolt straight to your core.

Heat rose in your face as Matt pressed in closer to you, slowly pushing you onto your back and boxing you in with his huge arms.

“So what if I do, Matty?” Biting your lip, you internally cringed at how wobbly your attempted flirt sounded.

“Don’t get shy on me now, sweetness.” Matt rolled off of you, frowning, settling on his side next to you. Your heart fell as he distanced himself, as if you’d expected him to tear you apart right there on that bed.

Recovering your dignity as well as you could, you nestled yourself against the pillows with a sigh. “Speaking of me being shy, could we, um, talk about something later? About us?”

As if a switch had been flipped, Matt’s body stiffened next to you, his blank eyes growing wide and his demeanor becoming gruff. “Can it wait until after tonight?”

Your heart sank at his reaction. “Of-of course, Matty. How long until I have to put my game face on?”

“Well, there’s a social thing in a couple hours or so, but we do not need to stay long.” Matt’s voice was almost…stern?

Something about his new mood set you on edge. You’d been trying to be more physically affectionate with him in place of outright confessing your feelings. (Every time you thought about admitting how much you liked him, your throat felt like it was closing up, so you had avoided the topic until this moment.)

Had you been making Matt uncomfortable? Since you’d gotten here, he just seemed…off. The brief flirting session had indicated to you that it was just nerves because of his peers, but now you weren’t so sure. You shuffled around on the bed uneasily, deciding on your next move.

“Oh, ok. I’ll get ready then.” Your voice was timid as you slid off the bed. Padding into the pristine bathroom, you turned the shower on before letting your eyes fill with tears. He doesn’t want you. He never will.

Matt’s chest clenched as he smelled salt on the stale air of the hotel room. You were crying in the bathroom, barely 10 feet away from him and yet he was entirely powerless. The sound of your heart rate rising as your body exuded anxiety taunted him relentlessly.

After talking with Foggy and Karen a few weeks ago, he’d been trying to muster up the courage to ask you out properly. Until today, he’d even had hope that you’d be excited to be in a more legitimate relationship with him—clearly his friends were mistaken. His presence did nothing but drive your vitals through the roof but he wasn’t willing to let you go just yet.

He’d tried to find the spark that had been there during your first kiss a few weeks ago, but the shakiness in your sweet little voice clearly signaled fear. You didn’t want to do this with him anymore.

That was what you’d wanted to talk to him about, right? It had to be. “About us?” Your soft wavering voice had crushed him. He’d been waiting for this specific shoe to drop for weeks, but the waves of shock and hurt hit him like a bus anyway.

Emotion welled up in his throat and he swallowed painfully, trying to hold back the roiling storm in his chest. It was cruel to keep you here with him if you didn’t want to be. Tonight, he’d set you free.

Fidgeting with the strands of your wet hair, you let out a sigh. Your eyes were bloodshot to the point that you were concerned makeup wouldn’t be able to hide the fact that you’d been crying. An anxiety-inducing cherry on top of the shitty day you’d ended up having.

A quiet knock on the door drew a small squeak out of you. “Yah?”

“Hey, uh, you don’t need to come tonight, sweetness. You’ve done enough. Don’t want to force you.”

Tilting your head in confusion, you peeled the door open to reveal a formally dressed Matt, glasses obscuring his stony gaze.

“You…you don’t want me to come?” You whispered, throat closing up while your heart pounded.

“It’s not that I don’t want you there, I just—“

“Did I do something wrong?” You desperately searched Matt’s face for any indicator that he was lying, his sweet self trying to spare you anxiety or something.

“No, of course not, I didn’t mean—“

“Then what did you mean, Matt? I must’ve done something, you’re clearly upset!” You were almost angry now. After everything the two of you had been through and suddenly you having feelings was a deal breaker? Like you just couldn’t help yourself around him anymore?

“You just don’t need to be there, so I’m not going to force you—“

“Force me? Where is this coming from, Matt? Is this because of what I said earlier? About wanting to talk? Because we don’t have to, we can just—“

“Just what, keep pretending to be in love with each other? Kissing and holding hands and bantering like one of us isn’t going to get attached? That’s not fair to either of us.” Matt was yelling now, fists clenched.

“I—I didn’t know you felt this way about someone getting attached. I wouldn’t have said anything, I—“

“Yeah because that would’ve solved everything, right? Just lying to my face until I didn’t need you anymore?” Jaw set with rage, you realized you weren’t looking at Matt Murdock, but the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

“Matt—“ You tried to reason with the raging force in front of you, but he was having none of it.

“Go home,” Matt growled your name in a way that made you flinch. “I shouldn’t have asked you to come. I’m sorry.” With one last angry murmur, he straightened his tie and disappeared through the room’s door, leaving you to crumble to the floor with a new flow of sobs. How had tonight unraveled so quickly?

Breathing eventually falling into a controllable rhythm, you hastily wiped at your face and set off on wobbly legs to grab your suitcase. Shooting a text to Marci to let her know that you had tried to confess your feelings and it ended up being a huge mistake, you steeled yourself before turning your back on the room you’d planned on sharing with the man you had feelings for.

Whipping open the door, you kept your head down and took a step toward the elevators, running head first into Beatrice Snyder.

Matt’s jaw was painfully clenched by the time he reached the ballroom. He’d commit a litany of sins in his life, but there was no doubt in his mind that he would be damned for what he did to you tonight. While it was not your fault that you didn’t return his feelings, his hurt quickly turned to anger.

Anger was familiar. Anger was safe. Rejection wasn’t.

Stepping over to the bar, he failed to return the bartender’s smile and polite tone. “Whiskey, double.”

Downing the glass the moment it was set in front of him, he slammed it back to the bar top. “Refill.” Then, remembering his manners, “Please.”

Feeling a presence over his shoulder, he cursed his cruel God for letting Foggy find him before he was sufficiently wasted.

“Going a little hard for a work event, eh Murdock?” Foggy’s chuckle was humorless and a bit nervous as he gave his friend a once-over. “Where’s your better half?”

“Gone. Sent her home.” Matt downed the second glass of liquor, refusing to let down his guard again tonight.

“And as obvious as it is that you’re having a great time on your own, why, pray tell, did you do that?” Foggy’s tone was level, but Matt could hear his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“She knows, Fog. I don’t know how but she knows that I like her. And she doesn’t feel the same way. So I didn’t see the point of fooling myself any longer. It wasn’t fair to her.”

“Matt, bud—“ Foggy reached for Matt’s arm but he jerked away from the offered touch.

“What, Fog? Can you honestly tell me that any of this has been kind to her? I know you expected this to become real at some point, but clearly that’s not going to happen. I think we both just need some time.” The thought of being apart from you was excruciating, but he’d dug this grave himself.

“Did she say that? Matt, what on earth—“ Foggy was clearly about to chew him out, but someone else beat him to it.

“Murdock, I have a bone to pick with you!” Marci’s voice was angry and loud, sending a spike of pain through Matt’s pounding eardrums.

“Babe, maybe it’s best if we—“ Foggy placated, his hands raised in surrender and Marci stormed towards the bar.

“Save it, Foggy Bear. Matthew Motherfucking Murdock what the fuck did you do?” A well-manicured hand shoved Matt’s chest and, while he would’ve been able to stop it, he took the punishment in stride. It was nowhere close to what he deserved.

“You’re going to need to be more specific.” Matt remarked drily.

“Oh, spare me your attitude. You seriously blew up on her because she likes you? How goddamn childish. After everything she’s done for you—“

“Wait, what?” Matt and Foggy spoke in unison, brows furrowing in tandem.

“Let’s drop the innocent act, ok, it’s not a good look. If you didn’t feel the same way, you could have let her down easy instead of blowing up on her and leaving her alone.” Marci rolled her eyes, waving down the bartender.

“I didn’t—“ Matt’s chest felt tight. It wasn’t possible, you’d seemed so nervous around him. You’d lied to him about the reason.

“Marce, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Matt, care to shed some light on that?” Crossing his arms, Foggy turned back to his legal partner with a raised brow.

“I—I thought she was tired of pretending. She said she wanted to talk and she’s been jumpy all day, I assumed she wanted to ‘break up’” Matt didn’t realize how pathetic that explanation was until saying it out loud.

“Oh my god, you kicked her out and you didn’t even know what she wanted to talk about!? Murdock of all the idiots—“ Foggy was overtly upset now, anger bleeding into his words.

“I know, Fog. I fucked up. Shit, I have to go find her.” Dread was washing over his body like sub zero water. What the fuck had he done.

“Yah, man. You do. And I’d hurry.”

Matt clasped Foggy’s shoulder, making a beeline for the exit.

Beatrice Snyder smiled at you like a feral cat snarling at its prey. Your name rolled off her tongue like a drop of poison onto your skin.

“So nice to see you again, dear. Where’s your handsome boyfriend?”

“Do-downstairs.”

“And you’re leaving without him? Aw, you poor thing. What happened, did the two of you have a lover’s quarrel? Don’t tell me you broke up!” Her manicured hand fell over her heart in a gesture of mock horror.

“No, he just—“ You started.

“No need to explain yourself to me, dear,” The cruel woman spat the term of endearment at you. “You've clearly been through enough already.” Her eyes hardened with judgement.

A deep voice cleared their throat behind you and all of the hair on your neck stood up.

Notes of tobacco and bourbon mingled poorly on the air around you, accelerating your nausea. Please do not let this be happening. Please, someone, anyone don’t let it be him.

“Ah, yes. How rude of me. I should introduce you to the new associate attorney at HCB: James Lannister.” Snyder bared her fangs at you again, gesturing to a force behind you.

You were going to be sick. The walls were closing in around you. Your body froze, petrified with horror as a gnarled hand crept over your shoulder.

“It’s been too long, little Princess. You’ve looked better.” James Lannister strode around you, his piercing gray eyes lingering on your body, making your stomach churn. Your nightmares had immortalized him—with his greasy blond hair and broad, towering frame. His smile revealed inhumanly white teeth and a dangerous glint in his eyes. Your mouth felt like it was welded shut, your tongue a chunk of solid lead that was slowly choking you. “Nothing to say to me, huh? No apology?”

Fingers clenching around the handle of your suitcase, you took a step backwards in lieu of a response. Lannister’s wandering hands snatched your arm in a vice grip. “I think you and I need to have a little chat, Princess.” Snyder grinned as he began to drag you towards the stairwell, your suitcase falling to the carpet of the hallway with an inaudible thunk.

“Karma’s a bitch, dear. I’d better get downstairs, I’m sure Matthew would love to know what his sweet little thing is up to when he’s not around to keep her in line.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again at the thought of poor Matt, who already hated you, being subjected to Snyder’s falsehoods. “Please, I’ll do whatever you want, just leave him alone!” Snyder ignored you as Lannister cackled.

“Aw, the little whore found someone else she cares about, did she?” You were sobbing now, struggling against his humongous strength, weakly battering him with your fists as you tried to run after Snyder. “Shut up, you vile slut. She can’t help you. You’re my gift for joining the firm.” His rough fingertip traced a line over your jaw and you flinched backward as far as you could.

Pulling your arm downwards as hard as you could, you broke free of his grip and stumbled back up the cement stairs, crying out as you rolled your ankle in your haste to escape. Throwing you down to the nearest landing, Lannister snarled. “That’s it, you little bitch.” Ripping a handgun from his back pocket, he pulled back the hammer and aimed at your pounding head. “Another peep out of you and you’ll never see him again. Get up.”

The floor felt liquid beneath you as your unsteady legs found their way into a standing position. You raised your hands, terrified into submission once again.

The pair of you made your way down to the ground level and out through a back door, where two other men dressed in suits were waiting. They grinned their sharp teeth at you, zip tying your hands together and stuffing a gag in your mouth. Hurling you into a waiting van, Lannister snickered. “Tonight I get pay back, Princess. It’ll be just like old times, you’ll see.”

Taglist: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @scoliobean @harperdoodle @mattkinsella @leikelle @sweetbee0108 @dark-night-sky-99 @fallen-angels2213 @will-delete-this-later-probably @cheshirecat484 @thornbushrose @vernon-dursley

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ferociousmochis · 1 year

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please can i request alex turner smut you're last one was amazing!!!

Stay

Alex Turner X Fem!Reader

Warnings: fingering (fem receiving), penetrative sex, more dominant alex/submissive reader

You and Alex were nothing short of "frenimies", despite hanging out in the same group nearly every weekend you never ceased the bickering. Tonight he was particularly annoying, you were at an afterparty of sorts in a big house the band rented to celebrate the success of the latest Arctic Monkeys tour and the atmosphere was absolutely incredible. Well, it would be if Alex wasn't pestering you so much. "Alex could you shut up for maybe more than two seconds? Thanks.", "Ya'know, doll, maybe one day you'll be extraordinary enough to have a party to celebrate you!", he replied snarkily before wondering off to chat with a group that was beckoning him over to them. The nickname always got under your skin and he knew it, enjoying the reaction he got out of you. You rolled your eyes and huffed before pushing through the crowds to find your big brother, Nick, the bassist of the band and practically the only reason you'd ever be able to set foot in a place like this. You made your way into the house, it was full of unfamiliar faces and tight squeezes. When you finally found Nick he was nursing a glass of whiskey and playing cards with a couple other members of the band. You seamlessly blended into the scene, allowing yourself to enjoy the simple fun of partying like a kid again.

A couple more games and drinks later, the party was beginning to wind down and security was beginning to filter people out. You were shown your room and didn't any waste time getting comfy, changing into a pretty satin nighty and snuggling between your bedsheets. Everything was peacefully silent, until the tune of a guitar playing across the hall cut through your headspace.

You already knew just who it was, always the thorn in your side. Frustrated, you opened your door and saw one across the hall was slightly opened. You tiptoed across the wooden floorboards to the cracked door and peeked through only to see him strumming the instrument on the edge of his bed. You probably should have just turned around and went back to your room, but you couldn't help the way your eyes lingered on his hands. He strummed the guitar masterfully, plucking each string with grace. It didn't help that he was shirtless either. You'd always found him attractive, perhaps thats even what made him so annoying. An egotistical bastard that truly had an effect on you, your worst nightmare.

"Careful Y/N, if you stare at me much longer I might start to think you actually like me.", he said continuing to fiddle with the strings of his guitar. "You wish.", you huff flustered, pushing the door open, "Just be quiet, I'm trying to sleep". "Well sorry for disturbing you, princess" he replied in a mocking tone, the nickname making your face heat up slightly but the familiar pouty frown was still hanging on your lips. He gets up and approaches you, your breath hitched in your throat. He reaches beside you and places his guitar on the stand beside the door. His hand rested on the doorframe beside you, caging you in slightly against the opening of the door. He was so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body, too close. His eyes scanned your face briefly before he pulled away and meandered across his room to the small table by his bed. "Drink?", he said, holding up two glasses. You contemplated a bit, followed by a hesitant nod.

He poured the whiskey before patting the spot next to him and passing you a glass. He downed it swiftly with ease, while you swished the liquid around hesitantly, still unsure of the situation. "Its a drink, Y/N, you're supposed to drink it", he muttered pouring a second for himself. "You know, you're the most irritating person I have ever met in my life", you spat, pouring it down your throat, the burn making you wince. "Well then why are you in my bedroom", he replies arching an eyebrow. "Whatever", you roll your eyes, you honestly didn't know how to answer his question, what the hell were you doing? Frustrated with yourself, you begin to stand up, "Wait-" he says, a flash of desperation coats his voice. His hand grasped your wrist, "dont go". You slowly sit back down, a haze of confusion filling your brain. What was this? Why was he acting this way? Why did he always have to be so complicated?

He pulls a cigarette to his lips and a lighter from his pocket, letting the flames lick the end of it until he was satisfied. He turns back to you, a light puff of smoke leaving the corner of his mouth before discarding the lighter on his nightstand. The way the moonlight glowed on your skin was making him dizzy, but the whiskey helped bring him back to earth.

You began chatting harmlessly, warming up to each others company. The tensions eased and it was possibly the first completely friendly exchange you've had in forever, he actually managed to make you laugh.

"No, no, you're definitely a total slut on the road" you joke. "Am not!" he said faux offense plastered all over his face, "You're just jealous", he said smirking and winking at you playfully. "Absolutely not", you shoot back quickly, throwing your hands up in defense. "Mhm", he replied, "Really?", you laugh in return. "Definitely.", his lips curled into a devilish smile. You laugh, so caught up in the moment that you don't even realize the depth of what slips out next, "What do you want me to say? 'Alex please play me with your magical guitar fingers!'"

"Magical guitar fingers?"

"You know what I mean", you stutter quickly, signs of your embarrassment flooding your cheeks. You practically felt yourself shrivel with pure humiliation, you knew he would literally never let you live this down. When you managed to look him in the eye you were met with a much different expression than you expected. You anticipated laughter, or even just straight teasing but he was looking at you differently, his eyes were much darker now. He didn't try to hide the lust that burned in his eyes. He searched every crevice of your expression for some sort of understanding, an inkling, anything that could clue him in to what was going through your head.

He held out his hands, a few silver rings grasped his knuckles. Your jaw tightened, he really did have pretty hands, his fingers were long and slightly calloused from his guitar. He watched as you examined them, noticing your slightest of movements, including the way your legs pressed together slightly. You felt him shift closer to you, nearly closing a gap that pulled you together like magnets. He brought his hand down to rest on your thigh, nimble fingers grazing the soft flesh carefully. His breath was hot on your neck, "Stay.", he whispered. You turned to face him, only to be swept up into an unimaginably passionate kiss. You melted into him, kissing back almost instantly. His hands desperately wrapping around your body to pull you closer until you were in his lap.

You both knew this was wrong. You were his bandmate's little sister, everything about this was laced with poison. But you were the forbidden fruit he coveted for so long, finally just a kiss away. Your tongues danced to the sounds of the night and the sinful smacking of your lips, a mix of whisky, cologne and cigarette smoke filled your senses. His hands travel up your thighs and under your nighty, kneading the soft flesh of your ass. He pulls back to look at you, a blush is prickling your cheeks and your pupils are blown. He had the most wicked smile plastered across his face, "Wanna test out my magical guitar fingers?". If your face wasn't red already it definitely was now.

You've already taken it too far, whats a little further?

You were quickly flipped onto your back with ease, his strong arms placing you right where he wanted you. He gets on his knees, the low mattress giving him just the right angle to toss one of your legs over his shoulder. His hands snake around your hips and he pulls you forward to the edge of the bed, hands burning your skin with desire. You tear the nighty off over you head, exposing yourself to him. He bit the inside of his cheek trying to stay composed. He was completely breathless, taking a moment to admire you. You looked like fine art, each curve perfectly painted just for him, a goddess bound in human flesh. "Such a pretty little thing.." he breathed, you bit your lip in anticipation. He licked his thumb before it found its place circling your clit. You whimpered softly at the sensation. "With such pretty sounds", he murmured into your thigh kissing it softly, "You gonna keep making 'em for me?".

He tortures you, tracing the nub at an agonizing pace. You throw your head back, face tightening at the overwhelming pleasure. His free hand grips your neck, pulling you to meet his gaze, "Eyes on me, doll". You feel as the attention to your clit stops and his finger slowly enters you, making your hips jerk and your eyes flutter closed again, "Look at me or I'll stop." he says sternly. He starts to pump in an out of you, the cool metal of his ring tapping at your clit with every thrust, sending shocks throughout your body every time. He soaks in every slight movement you make, relishing in every twitch of pleasure he gives you. Removing his finger, he gathers your arousal on his thumb before circling your clit once more. The stimulation to your swollen nub makes your brain short circuit. When he returns to your needy entrance, he adds two fingers this time. They fill you deliciously, the slight stretch igniting every nerve in your body. He curls and thrusts into you at a much more aggressive pace this time, fucking you with his fingers until you're vibrating on his hand like a little whiny mess. You feel every muscle tensing in your body. "Come on, love", you feel yourself quickly starting to tumble over the edge at his words, "thats it, thats it-", he coaxes. He bites his lip while he watches you shake under his touch, "such a good girl".

Seeing you like this was so entrancing- maybe it was the way your cheeks donned that light shade of pink, or how you peered down at him with those droopy, fucked-out eyes, or maybe it was the way your hair laid messily across the sheets of his bed- whatever it was, god, it made him strain against his pants. "Come 'ere" he whispered, towering over you on the bed. Your bare chest grazes his as he brings his fingers to your lips. You take them into your mouth, sucking greedily. His self control was hanging by a thread. His hand grasps the span of your neck and pulling you into a deep kiss. It swallows you whole while his free hand roamed the curves of your body, you were like putty in his hands.

You're too preoccupied coming down from your high to notice when he pulls his belt from his waist. He slips his pants and boxers off in one swift motion before crawling overtop of you and pulling you into another vehement kiss. The tip of his cock teases your slick entrance as his lips move against yours, making you squirm. "Be a good girl and tell me what you want, doll", he whispered, his husky voice filling your ears like a song. "Alex, please", you whimper, "Please what sweetheart?", he replied, lifting your chin with his finger. You couldn't believe you were begging for Alex fucking Turner but you were too desperate to care, "please, please fuck me Alex, please". He didn't need any convincing.

When you sat in his lap you could definitely tell he was big but nothing could've prepared you for the way he filled you up. "Shit- you're so tight", he gasped softly, not giving you much time to settle before he sought more friction. But the pain burned into pleasure quickly, until your eyes were rolling into the back of your head. The way he rolled his hips against yours let him hit all the right places. Your jaw hung slack, swollen lips parted as your body swayed which each thrust. His eyes were screwed tightly shut, basking in the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him. You can see the sweat glistening on his forehead, a few strands of his hair sticking to it slightly.

You were babbling softly, completely cockdrunk. "Fuck", he groaned, "such a pretty girl, taking me so well". He loves watching you, especially watching your face while he fucks you, he can't explain the way it makes him feel when your eyes roll back and your back arches at the feeling of him filling you up. It was so much better than every wet dream he ever had, better than every time he fantasized about you and those little short skirts you'd wear to every show, you exceeded his every expectation and more. His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly, making you clench around him. "s' good-", you moan, half choking on your own broken sobs. He smirked, he preferred you like this instead of shooting him those smart-ass, sharp remarks, "pretty baby can't talk?", he said tauntingly. His hips snapped up to meet yours leaving you in a daze, you were too fucked out to even respond. He spent too many nights stroking himself wishing it was your hand instead of his own, waiting for the day when your snippy comments would turn into those lovely, desperate whines you were giving him now.

"My good girl", he murmured into your neck, nipping and sucking small marks along your collar bone possessively. His fingers dug into the soft skin of your throat as he felt you tightening around him. He knew you were getting close, not only by the way you were gripping him like a vice but by how whiny you were getting, writhing under him as the pressure built. He loved it, every sound that passed your beautiful lips just egged him on further. He sped up his pace, seeking out your release and his own. He knew you were just barely holding on, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. Just as you began slipping, he grasped your face angling you to stare deeply into his eyes, "Look at me doll, look at me while you cum on my cock". That was enough to force the coil to completely snap in your abdomen. Your legs shook against him as you cried out loudly, enough for him cover your mouth to muffle those gorgeous sounds. You squeezed him perfectly, enough to pull him into his own orgasm. He let out a deep moan while he watched himself slide in and out of you, enamored by the way your tight cunt milked his cock.

He collapsed into your chest, both of you gasping for air. You stay like that for a moment, attempting to catch your breaths but also unwilling to let go.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you on top of him as he rolls onto his back. "Alex!" you half yelp, still very much disoriented. You glance up and catch his eyes, they are soft and full of admiration. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, "Stay."

He was going to be the death of you.

Thank you so much for the request! :) All I can say is I love writing for Alex so never stop them lol. I know this isn't as great as my last but here ya go anyways. I will lowkey prob come back and edit this sometime in the future as well 👍. I just wanted to get something out since I haven't for a few days, BUT I have so many prompts for him piled up that I am currently working on so hang tight- there are better ones on the way!

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #alex turner fanfic #alex turner one shot #alex turner sexy #alex turner smut #alex turner gif #the car #the last shadow puppets #fanfic #smut #oneshot #smut oneshot #one shot #female reader #fem!reader #x reader #am arctic monkeys

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sarcasticbabywhispererjess · 1 month

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*trigger warning* For those not in the headspace to see about grief and pets just skip this one.

Isis has been declining health-wise over the last year or so, more severely the past couple of months. I honestly wasn't sure she was going to make it into the new year or her birthday (a week ago). The only reason she's even been eating the last few months is because I've been making her chicken and eggs with toast and cheese twice a day. Occasionally she'll be hungry enough to eat a little dog food, but it has been rare. But the fact that she still wants to eat a majority of the time gave me solace.

Her mobility has also gotten worse. Specifically her back end. She struggles to get up on the couch... and stay on the couch when she lays down too close to the edge (she just slides off onto the floor if I don't manually move her over). Our walks are really slow going (30-45mins/mile). The last couple of days she's really been struggling and has been pretty agitated too. Just walking in circles. Yesterday I think she was doing that outside and she fell off our little patio into a small garden plot. She couldn't get herself up alone. I gave her trazodone Monday night because she was so agitated. For some reason this kills her mobility, so I had to carry her up the stairs to go potty even in the morning.

I don't mind doing all of these things for her (I haven't even mentioned the amount of indoor potty accidents I've had to clean up... which also sometimes include a bath) because I love her. But I don't think she's even remotely having a good time anymore. I thought when she stopped eating, I'd know. Or when she wouldn't go for walks, I'd know. People have been telling me that I'd know when it was time. She's still eating and going for walks, but she's so agitated at night (sometimes during the day) and just seems like she's not having a good time.

So I think it's time. Time to let her go. Which is hurting my heart so much to even think about. I know it is an act of love to stop her suffering, but to suddenly be without my only constant companion of almost 16 years is going to be so hard. I know it is selfish to be thinking of my own comfort in this situation, though I doubt it is all that unique of me.

I emailed my vet last night about the situation and they replied this morning asking me when I'd like to come in. I've been crying and torturing myself about the decision for the last two hours. To think that this time Friday or Saturday she'll be gone depending on my decision. I considered maybe we could just wait until after I finish my work week. But that means the earliest we'd probably do it would be Thursday of next week. Would it be fair to Isis to make her suffer for another week just for me? I don't think she's in any considerable physical pain, but mentally she's doesn't seem great. Like her doggy dementia is also getting worse. I considered maybe she had another UTI, but she doesn't have any other symptoms.

If I'm honest, I think in the back of my mind I'm hoping that if I wait maybe she'll just pass on her own and I won't have to make the decision. I've been back and forth between emailing the vet to set a date and emailing to say I want to wait until next week. I don't know what to do.

This venting/trauma dump has gone on way longer than I had planned. No decision has been made, but I've cried many more tears.

#dog #geriatric dog #grief #unedited #i can't read through this again #i have a headache from crying

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popotobun · 2 months

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WIP Wednesday!

Lately I've been working most on my SVSSS fic that's basically a "What if Shen Yuan was a little older and a little more competant". That's it, that's the fic. I have zero idea where it's going to end up, but I've got two chapters worth scribbled down, so that's something! I've also got an outline for a Tangled-inspired Liushen AU that I don't want to start because once I do, I think I'll keep going until it's done and I want to get more done on the longer fic first xD

I've still got plans for the post-MLC fic I'm working on! I really should finish that, since it doesn't have anywhere to go and should just be the one chapter... Who knows. I let words get away from all the time.

I've still got a couple of FF14 WIPs too, though the MSQ follow-along will always be slow going... I do want to finish the Dark Knight fic, but my WoL was in a Not Good headspace when he started that, so it's on a back burner too.

Feel free to Ask me to work on any of these and I'll post a new paragraph~ but either way, enjoy the snippet!

The entire night passed while he read, the morning only making itself known to Shen Yuan when a knock sounded at the entrance to his room and Ming Fan’s voice announced, “Shizun, I left breakfast at the table for you. Please let this disciple know if there is anything further needed.”

“Nothing but privacy, Ming Fan. I am only to be disturbed by meals for the next three days.” While he recovers is not spoken aloud, but carried in the silence that he lets linger a moment longer than it needs to. “Unless another Peak Lord requires my presence.”

Ming Fan bowed and started to leave after confirming the instructions, but was stopped by Shen Qingqiu’s voice adding, “Perhaps I will meditate in the gardens today. If I am not here, let it be known that I am unavailable for company.”

That should cover most possibilities. He was sure Mu Qingfang wouldn’t be back by so soon, but he couldn’t say the same for anyone else. With the worry from Yue Qingyuan that Mu-shidi had mentioned or potential curiosity as to his recent visitors, anyone could come by! And he didn’t want them seeing him practicing basic sword forms like someone who’d never held a sword before.

Since that was exactly what he planned to be doing.

After breakfast of course.

#wip wedenesday #svsss #mysterious lotus casebook #ffxiv #here i am falling into one of the two types of svsss writers #“just the book but slightly different”#the au should be really fun though!!#I've got 2.5 pages of outline that's going over who the villain is and why #and how the politics work considering I'm making the kingdom Cang Qiong #it'll be shen twins and liushen because i love both of these #the MLC fic is 100% “fighting is foreplay” but i'm not writing anything detailed #mostly just to not take over the whole fic since it's more focused on LLH recovering and finding joy in swordplay (of the not naked kind)#and that's more important than the swordplay of the naked variety ;D #ANYWAY #enjoy the teaser #and feel free to ask for me to work on any of these <3 #even the tangled au #though i know i'm not gonna sleep if I start that one XD

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msmargaretmurry · 30 days

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good mooooorning the capitals are inexplicably in a wild card spot!! sending in j, u, & y for the ask meme hehe

good morning my friend!! they sure are!! that's the power of love baby!!!!! 💕💖✨🙏🦅

j. What’s your favorite fanfic trope? Have you written it?

ohhhh i SURE have. futurefic is my favorite thing. just, everything about it — the mass of feelings that your characters thought they left in the past rearing up again! getting to slowly unravel whatever backstory you've concocted for your readers! all the complicated feelings that come with having grown up and built a life with imperfect pieces even when it was the best you could do at the time! also i love futurefic because it is almost always also second chance romance and i love second chances so much.

u. Is there a pairing you would like to write, but haven’t tried yet.

yes! so many!! i unfortunately only ever end up writing like 1/20th of the pairings i'm into because i am a SLOW writer but, i would love to get my grubby little fingers into whatever is going on in vancouver — probably elias/brock or elias/quinn. i feel like i would like to try my hand one day at connor/leon but i need to be gripped by the EXACT right scenario u know? i don't know if writing prompt fills on tumblr dot com counts as trying it but if it doesn't then i am absolutely adding eldest son disaster pairing matthew/quinn to this list. also i don't know if i want ME to write this but i do want a nice long tender unexpected feelings leon/bedsy fic to exist in the world because sometimes we all need a little problematic age gap in our lives. i feel like i have more but i am totally blanking. oh — gibby/trevor. i do want john to destroy that twink, preferably while he's deep in his jamie feelings. i want it to be MESSY.

y. What are your thoughts on your personal satisfaction with something you’ve written vs. the popularity of your stories? Do you tend to be most satisfied with your most popular stories?

this is pretty complicated tbh! like, i was NOT in a good headspace with haw when i posted it (i def should have done another editing pass but i was like fuck it i'm done lmao) but other people's love for it really and truly helped me get out of that headspace and remember why i loved the story and characters so much! so the popularity of the fic was a really lovely thing for me there. but also there's like, i wrote a band of brothers fic a couple years ago that's obviously never going to be super popular because it's for a tv show from 2001 but also i think that it's the best written thing on my ao3 page. by far the fic i'm the MOST satisfied with even though it only got a moderate amount of love due to the smaller fandom! then in the middle there's something like tnno, which a lot of people love but i was satisfied with it regardless because the two pals whose feelings about it mattered most to me also loved it. so i think this equation changes depending on my personal relationship to each fic!

#ask #writing meme #thank u for the questions!! <3

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buckys-little-belle · 2 years

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Hello, I hope you're having a good day!

So, a couple of days ago I accidently burned myself while making Mac and cheese (don't worry just a 1st degree burn and made sure to apply cold water and wrapped the burn) and just wanted to know if you could write what the avengers would do if their little one accidently burned themselves. (But only if you want to!)

Hot Hot Hot

Avengers (Steve, Carol, Bucky, Nat, Tony) x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns)

Warnings - Reader has a small burn on their finger, use of bandaids, bandages, cold water, lots of fluff and love, talks of eating food (sandwich and mac and cheese)

Note : (I am so sorry this took so long to write bubba!) So sorry you burnt yourself! Burns suck! I have also burnt myself while making Mac and Cheese, it sucks, but it is nice to have noodles after at least. I hope your burns are doing okay!! (Each person has a slightly different type of reader, each reader insert has slightly different personality traits!)

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post and this blog SFW

- - - - - -

You were big, and you were making noodles, the mac and cheese package in the cupboard calling your name, that is until some water splashed out of the pot and onto your finger. At first you were just in shock, the pain not settling in, your headspace the same, mac and cheese still very much all you were thinking about. That is until the pain finally hit, your finger finally swollen and beginning to take over your thoughts. Your little space took over the second the first tear slipped, you were hoping your little space that had been begging to come out all day could wait until after the pasta was made, but here you were, boiling water and burnt finger.

Steve

Steve heard the moment your first sob began, he was in his office doing paperwork when you had told him you were making some noodles.

He sprung into action, knowing it wouldn’t be long before you slipped, you had been fighting all day long, hoping to find some comfort a little later.

“Little one?” He called out as he walked into the kitchen, trying to figure out exactly where you were.

“Daddy!” You cried, immediately running towards him and instantly snuggling into his chest. “Hurts.” You cried, now holding your finger up to Steve so he could see the damage done.

“Oh no.” He sympathized, he knew it wasn’t as life threatening as it may feel, but he wanted you to know you were right in showing him the injury. “Let’s run it under some cold water hm?” He asked, slowly walking himself and you towards the kitchen sink, turning the water onto cold and placing your finger under the stream. “Feels better?” He asked, leaving you at the sink as he went to turn the burner off.

“Yah.” You whispered, fascinated by the running water and how it fell over your finger. “Are my noodles otay?” You asked, looking over at Steve as he assessed the danger.

“Yes little one, the noodles are okay.” He chuckled, happy that you were at least still interested in any type of hat, if not just warm, food after your current ordeal. He walked over and turned the water off, grabbing a paper towel and dabbing it dry. “How about you go watch some tv, i’ll make some noodles and bring you some ice okay?”

You nodded, running towards the living room, sure your finger hurt, but your daddy was going to do the hard part and make the noodles, all you had to do was sit and watch some tv, sounds like a fair, but painful trade to you.

Carol

You admired your mama, she was strong and could defeat bad guys, so you didn’t want to worry her over your burn. But as the minutes passed it began to hurt more, your finger growing warm and uncomfortable. So you placed it in your mouth, sucking your thumb soothed your feelings so maybe sucking your finger would sooth the physical pain.

“Baby?” Carol called out as she entered the kitchen. The sight in front of her was definitely interesting, you sat on the floor with a finger in your mouth, the pot water overflowing and a few tears descending down your face. “Did you get hurt?” She asked, turning off the stove and walking towards you.

“Nope.” You said as best you could, your finger still lodged in your mouth.

Carol wasn’t having any of the excuses or lies, she simply pulled your finger out of your mouth. “That’s a burn Baby.” She said, pointing to the mark on your finger. “Come on.” She smiled, trying to be as sweet as possible in your time of need. She turned the sink on, guiding your hand under the water and allowing the water to fun over it. “See, not so bad.” She cooed.

“‘m sorry I didn’t say somfin.” You whispered, your voice quiet and your expression embarrassed.

“It’s okay baby.” She said, kissing the top of your head. “Just tell me next time okay?” You nodded, your finger and feeling now both feeling much better.

Bucky

Bucky, being the mother hen he is was sitting at the dinning table as you made your noodles. He could tell you were putting off slipping into little space all day and wanted to make sure he was there to assist if you slipped during your noodle adventure.

Of course, his overprotectiveness was needed. He immediately sprung into action the moment he heard the water splash. “It’s okay.” He said soothingly, moving you to the sink to run your hand under it, when he was satisfied you would stand there he went and turned the stove off, moving the noodles from the burner and whipping up the spilt water.

“I don’ like this daddy.” You murmured, taking your finger out from under the water and holding it up to him. He sighed, of course you didn’t, you never liked the first solution he offered so why would this be any different.

“Let’s try some ice.” He suggested, walking towards the fridge and grabbing an ice cube, placing it in a baggie and handing it to you. “Just put it on top of your finger.” He explained, showing you what he meant by helping you do it to him.

“Oh! Otay.” You beamed. “Dis is much betters daddy!” You said, sitting at the table where he once sat, a smile on your face as you moved the ice around, watching it melt. “Tanks.”

“Of course my love.” He chuckled. “How about a sandwich for lunch hm?” He offered, getting the bread out of the cupboard and beginning to make your favourite. You nodded your head, not really paying attention to what he was asking, but he knew you would enjoy a sandwich so he made you one.

Nat

Nat was training in the home gym in he basement when your burn occurred. You were no stranger to interrupting her workout, in fact she was surprised it took you so long to call down. “Mommy?” You called from the top of the stairs, Nat immediately putting down the weights she was using. “‘m I hurt my finger.” You said, hearing her shuffle downstairs and then walk towards the stairs.

“Oh my love!” She called, walking up the stairs, slightly sweaty and exhausted, but ready to take care of you. “Did you put it under cold water?” She asked, this wasn’t her or your first rodeo, you made noodles often, and were clumsy, so burns were common occurrence. You shook your head no, looking at the floor as she began to walk to the kitchen, you following behind. “Love you know what to do. You put it under cold water and then call for help right?” She asked, knowing the answer to her question was ‘yes’ as she had taught you this months ago.

“I forgot.” You whispered. Immediately running to the sink to put your own finger under some cold water. “I didn’t mean to forget I jus’.”

“It’s okay love, I know you didn’t mean to, just try to remember for next time okay?” Nat gave your cheek a quick reassuring peck as she passed you to go towards the freezer. “Do you want the fish ice pack? Or the frog?” She questioned, looking at the two ice packs you had picked out at the grocery store for a weekly prize. You were a weird little one, finding much joy in cute ice packs, but she loved that about you.

“‘m, da frog.” You said, slowly turning the water off and walking towards her. “Tanks mommy.” You said, giving her a peck on the cheek and running away, hoping that maybe if you left she would clean up the scary hot water. Which she did, of course she did, she’s your mommy, she would always do the scary things for you.

Tony

Tony had you always wear a watch, it was programmed to report to Jarvis, and then Tony, if your vitals spiked or if you were in pain, danger, or lost. “Sir.” Jarvis called out over Tony’s workspace. “It seems the baby has a burn.” He said, making Tony stop what he was doing immediately.

“Bookworm?” Tony called out, he had rushed up to the kitchen just moments after Jarvis had alerted him.

“‘m okay daddy!” You called back, standing at the kitchen sink, your eyes glued to the watch as your finger sat in a stream of cold water. “Doin’ what da watch says, just like you taught me!” You exclaimed, showing Tony the watch face which had pictures of what to do when burned.

Tony sighed, sure the watch was a pain to make but clearly it was worth it. “Good job bookworm.” He praised, placing his hand on your back as he too looked at the watch. “What can I do to help?” He asked, you liked problem solving and he didn’t want to take over.

“Can you turn da stove off?” You asked, turning towards him to see if he nodded or not. As he went to the stove and made sure everything was put away you looked back at the watch. “Otay now I need a hug.”

“What?” Tony asked.

“‘s what da watch says!” You exclaimed, showing the picture of two people hugging to Tony before you held your arms out. “Please?” You whispered.

“Of course.” He chuckled, engulfing you in a big and warm hug. He was proud of you for taking charge and making sure you did what you needed to, and he was proud you also asked for and accepted help when you needed it.

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tmntxthings · 1 year

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∑一stay in my memories。・゜・

author’s note: it’s such a tragedy that im just listening to this whole song now. i kept hearing that one popular part and finally finally listened to it all and wow ♪ memories by conan grey ♪

warnings: angst, past relationships, hurt/comfort? song inspired, unedited

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It’s been a couple of months since you. That was about the amount of time it took for Michelangelo to stop crying. His brothers had a pretty hard time too. So did Pops. They weren’t used to Mikey being so down. Feeling so blue. But he couldn’t help it, the breakup had been hard. The distance has been even harder. He knew he had spent every waking second with you, but it really felt like a punch to the plastron coming to the realization, that he was supposed to live without you now.

He had finally gotten to a point where looking at all those pictures of the two of you together didn’t hurt. It didn’t make him cry anymore. And most things had. All the little knickknacks, every single thing you had gotten him. The comics, the art supplies, the clothes that you sometimes wore. He couldn’t possibly get rid of it. Even when Donnie deduced it would help his grieving process. That it might speed things up and not make things so difficult.. to have constant reminders of you.

But Mikey couldn’t bear to lose one more piece of you. So he stuffed everything into a box.. at least the things he didn’t use on the daily, and hid them away in the back of his closet. And so the months passed and he was surviving, somehow.. someway without you. He sometimes wondered if it would’ve been better to have never met you. To have never gone through such heartache. But with the headspace he was at now, he knew that wouldn’t be true. It wouldn’t have been better. Because then he would’ve never experienced all those good times. The lovely moments, the loving moments with you. He couldn’t really ponder too hard about those still.. Donnie said he was 75% on the way to a complete recovery. Mikey thought he may just be saying that but most days he felt better. Enough to sometimes spare a smile at those old photos.

The two of you had gone back and forth like this countless times. But you always came back after a couple of days and Mikey readily opened his arms. It wasn’t the healthiest thing in the world, his brothers made sure to remind him that. But he couldn’t help what he felt in his heart for you. You were his sun. But this time.. it felt like the last. After those first couple of days he had waited with his phone clutched in his grasp. Waiting for a message, a call, anything to show him that you wanted him back. Raph said it was for the best. That he and you were just each other’s first love, and that it was always the hardest to get over.

“I’m heading up!” Mikey called out in the lair. It wasn’t uncommon nowadays to go topside alone. Though Raph asked if he wanted company. Mikey replied quickly, “Nah, I’ll be back in a few! I just wanna skate for a bit.. clear my head,” and that was all he needed to say. Raph understood and gave Mikey a warm grin and waved him off.

He could hear the sound of pouring rain halfway up the ladder to the manhole cover. It didn’t deter the orange clad turtle. Though skating in such conditions are unadvised, Mikey wasn’t your average skater. He was a ninja with rad skills. Plus the rain deterred others so it wouldn’t be packed at the park. And yet as Mikey pulled up his hood and covered the manhole with practiced ease. His board strapped to his shell underneath his orange hoodie, hoping it would stay dry til he reached his destination. He felt familiar chills run over his entire body. He turned to the alleyway opening, out to the lit up sidewalk, and there you were.

His breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t seen you in months. And there you were. Here you were. Staggering forward and drenched from the rain. His heart lurched at the sight. No no no no. This wasn’t happening. He had finally stopped hurting. He had finally started surviving without you! And yet as you called out his name,

“M-Mike?”

His breath sputtered as his hands went around himself. As if he could hold himself together. Like he wasn’t already falling apart. “What’re you doing Y/n?” His voice sounded foreign to even himself. He felt like he was dying. Something was clawing at his tattered and beaten heart. He didn’t want to face you. He didn’t want to think about you. No you were supposed to be in his memories. Not here before him, shivering from the cold and practically begging to be wrapped in his arms.

“I just wanna talk,” you murmured. Though the rain was still coming down, he heard you clearly. His ears straining for every word. His body was betraying him. Had it forgotten all of the pain it had went through? For months? For longer than that! The off and on and off and on again? You started moving forward and Mikey started to shake his head. You were talking again, trying to make it right, trying to explain.

“Just hear me out Angie, I know I’ve messed up bad. But I don’t think I can do it without you, I- I tried!”

The closer you got the more dizzy he felt. Until you were right before him and even the smell of the dripping rain couldn’t cover the alcohol that lingered on your breath. He winced inwardly, you weren’t here for him. You were here for you. Playing the victim once more despite claiming to own up to your mistakes. “Please Mikey, I swear I’ll do better, better for you, f-for us!”

His thoughts were cloudy. He wanted you to stay in his memories. The past was too traumatizing and all you did was bring it back. You threw it in his face as if his feelings didn’t truly matter. He was your crutch. He was all you had. And his heart strings, or what was left of them, pulled. He shook his head. He was trying so hard to get over you, to get over this. But you showed up, out of nowhere, months later, out of the blue in such a state! He felt the slow exhale wind down and out of his body. He knew the ending would always be the same with you. The two of you couldn’t be friends. He doubted the two of you could be the same lovers as you once were. All that you were doing now was preventing him from moving on, from yourself moving on to something new..

But since you came…

His arms slowly opened and you lurched forward. Wet and trembling the both of you, tears camouflaged by the unforgiving rain. “Okay,” he sighed, it was hardly even voiced. He was sure you couldn’t hear as you sobbed into his chest. Just happy he had let you in again. To break his heart once more. Maybe he was insane. Though he didn’t think things would change this time around. He was fully expecting to get his feelings crushed. But maybe one day you would take all of those things that had haunted him. The box full of reminders of you. Maybe if you took that with you this time around, maybe he’d truly get over you. And then you would stay in his memories.

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author’s note 2.0: it is most definitely recommended to listen while reading ;D most of the lyrics were used ^

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