#rather than dealing with your own messed-up shit

[tastesousweet]

frat boy chris x bitchy reader blurb . . .

had the urge to write again and drabbled up this concept

warnings: toxic dynamic (:0), mentions of sex & alcohol, characters not in an official relationship!

at times it can feel like chris has some sort of alert that screams and announces your presence at one of his parties, with the way that he ends up finding you almost immediately every time.

this time you've got your upper body leant against a wall, fiddling with the wet label of the black cherry seltzer you hold against your chest as you gaze up at some guy who’s talking to you with those pretty fucking eyes.

and just like that you’ve irked him. with the way your smooth teeth peek out every once in a while to bite at or mess with your full, glossed lips; you’re giving this guy every sign in the world that you want him. chris almost wishes he was naive enough to not know you’re only using this guy as your own pawn to get his attention- as if it was that fucking hard. this was your own form of foreplay, or “to keep things interesting” as you often would say.

so he waits it out, letting you play with whatever man you’ve got your eye on at the moment just to swoop in and have you to himself by the end of the night. he tries to stay coy and keep his composure especially when his frat brothers give him shit for it, spewing phrases like “dudeee, saw your girl’s here- she’s like eye-fucking the hell outta some guy but here nonetheless, right?” with a laugh and clap to chris’ shoulder. to which chris would mumble a dry response.

chris tries to find the humor in this situation, i mean how could he not? it’s actually quite hilarious to him that you strut around his house and all over this campus as if you’re anything above him- as if you only tolerate him out of some sort of pity. yet, more times than not you’re the one showing up at his house or inviting him into your campus apartment in the earliest hours of the morning. you’re the one urging him to never stop when he’s got your pretty face shoved into one of your pink pillows and his hips snapping against you. so, while chris is easily jealous of these men, he’s never quick to anger. these guys don’t stand a chance, you’d never give them what you give chris. these guys you play around with will never get the dirty polaroid pictures you sneak into chris’ back pocket while you kiss him goodbye at your door, or the satisfaction that he gets when he finally convinces you to let him interrupt your study session only for him to get carried away, focused on playing with your clit rather than calling out the cursive key terms written on your flashcards to help with your studying.

he only continues to take irritating sips from his, now room-temperature, can of beer (the same can of beer he’d cracked open at the start of the night; it’s rare to find chris moving onto a second drink before you’ve arrived. he’d much prefer to wait for you to show up so that you’d get drunk simultaneously especially now that he knows how much you dislike dealing with him when he’s drunk and “messily clinging onto you”) while focusing on your conversation with that man who’s way too close to you. he’s completely unaware of the pissed look on his face as he watches you nod your head, eyes glancing up and down the guy’s figure whenever you want to make his (and chris’) head spin. chris can almost see the idea come to your filthy brain before you slowly reach into your back pocket and reveal a small lollipop.

you remove its plastic cover, placing the wrapper into the front pocket of the man's blue jeans. chris can see your mouth form the words, "thank you" as you remove your hand from his pocket, grazing your fingers over his zipper and brass button before leaning back against the wall.

chris adjusts himself in the seat of his unsteady barstool, glancing around him with his lip tucked in anticipation. though his eyes narrow when you softly plunge the sucker into your mouth with your innocent demeanor, rolling it over your tongue to coat it in a thin layer of your saliva, before your lips form a slow pucker around it as you free it from your mouth.

chris draws his fingers around his lips out of habit, watching you ask "wanna taste?" to the blonde. then he's rolling his eyes at the eager head nod the idiot gives you and the way you smile and meet his mouth halfway to place the pink candy on his tongue. he looks between the two of you as you share a long moment of eye contact. you only move to stand on your tiptoes and whisper something sweetly sexy into his ear like you always do. the guy's face only turns extra red when you kiss his cheek and give him a flutter of your fingers in dismissal.

chris gives you a few moments alone to check your phone and such before he's walking over to bother you and your space.

he approaches while you’re focused on reapplying your lip gloss in the hallway mirror, "whoring around my house gets kinda embarrassing after a while don’cha think?” the musk of chris’ voice bleeds through your hair and into your ear over the loud music and party ambiance.

you give a sigh of annoyance as you glance in the mirror from your own lips to his all too familiar face tucked close to your skull. you rub your lips together and purse them before twisting the slim tube closed again, “mmm… not really, but you coming to bitch and whine about it is possibly one of the most embarrassing and predictable things you do, don’cha think, honey?”

you turn your head so that you’re face to face, giving him a condescending smile as you smooth your hand over the stubble on his jaw. he only runs his tongue over his teeth in slight defeat while staring into your eyes.

“s’not cute, honey. fix your act, y’grossin’ me out at my own fucking party.” he grits his teeth, baiting you.

your grin widens at his audacity, squishing his cheeks a little to push his lips out awkwardly, “chris… who the hell are you talkin’ to like that?”

when he hears a few people begin to turn down the hall he snatches your hand from his face embarrassingly fast, backing away a little when you scowl at him.

and just as he expected, a few bumbling idiots come prancing down the hall not sparing either of you a glance as they rush down towards the basement in search of a bathroom.

“‘kay, are you done taunting me? i wanna go dance.” you cross your arms.

“taunting? baby, when was i tauntin’ you? last time i checked you were putting on a show- havin’ lollipop sex with randoms and shit.” the way chris voice descends from concern to mockery almost makes you want to give him head right here. almost, you don’t give it up that easy.

“aw, you saw that? would’ve done so much more if i knew i had an audience, especially as handsome as you…” you pout.

“you’re a twisted bitch,” chris laughs to himself, shaking his head.

“okay, let’s not get into the name calling. we don’t want to hurt each other’s feelings now, would we?” you stretch your arms out and around his neck, pulling him both physically and mentally back to you with a smile on your face.

he bites at his lip and pretends to think, “nahh, you’re right. just ran through the entire conversation in my head and it ended bad.”

“mmm, see i told you.” you smile at him.

“right. it’s always you tellin’ me. okay, gimme a kiss, please? i need it and deserve it,” chris pleads, bringing you closer by the small of your back.

“deserve it? m’kay…” you joke before you give in. with the way his eyes are so dreamy in this dim lighting and his voice is so scratchy yet soft; you both about eat each other’s faces during that never ending kiss.

- y/n is legit a male manipulator but i support women’s wrongs tf !

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #sturniolo triplets smut #chris sturniolo x black reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut

[kennahjune]

Steddie

I’m joining the s3 steddie train :D

…

Steve was late. He was so late and so dead. Robin was going to kill him— he’d never make it out of Scoops Ahoy alive.

This was his thought process after dropping Will Lucas and Max off at Mikes. This was also his thought process the entirety of the way to Scoops while he shoved his way through the mall.

The moment he entered the small shop Robins eyes locked on him in a glare. Steve barely gave her a second before he was going to the back room to get ready for his shift.

He heard the back room door open behind him.

“You’re—“

“24 minutes late I know,” he said as calmly as he could while trying to relax his breathing.

“Yeah and—“

“And you get an extra 25 minutes for your break, yes Robin I know!”

Steve finally closed his employee cubby and turned to look at Robin. “Look. Im sorry I was so late today but Will, Lucas and Max are assholes when they’re being petty and they needed a ride to Mikes cause all the others were busy! I’ll take closing shift today to if you’re really that mad.”

Robin stared at him angrily from the doorway. “Fine.” She uncrossed her arms. “And yes, you will be taking the closing shift tonight. I have a study date with a friend that I can’t miss.”

“It’s summer vacation?”

“Shut up!”

Steve shrugged when the door closed.

He closed the door to his employee locker with a little more force than necessary. He had a migraine building and the bright, florescent lights of the mall weren’t helping in the slightest.

He walked out and began his shift.

…

Eddie wanted to enjoy his day off. Preferably by himself. But Gareth and Jeff decided that his personal life was their personal life. So here they were.

He had wanted to spend the day away from the mall, considering that that was where everyone seemed to be nowadays. But the guys were insistent.

So they were walking around. It wasn’t too bad, considering Eddie had gotten himself a new record and tape with his newest paycheck. They were sitting at the fountain when Gareth shouted right in Eddie’s ear:

“HOLY SHIT!”

Eddie just about punched him with how hard he jumped. Jeff spit out his Pepsi all over Eddie.

While Eddie was worrying about getting the sticky drink off of his skin, Gareth continued with; “is that HARRINGTON in Scoops?”

Well. Now he has Eddie’s attention.

Sure enough, just in Eddie’s line of sight, was Steve Harrington in a sailors uniform and a dorky hat.

A dorky hat that was soon snatched up by his current customer, Billy Hargrove.

Jeff clapped him on the shoulder and leaned over him to get a better view. “Is that Hargrove?”

“Yep.” Eddie popped the P.

“It looks like he’s messing with Harrington.”

“Yep.” Another pop on the P.

“And Harrington looks like he’s gonna fucking explode.”

Eddie agreed. Harrington was red in the face and not in the cute blushy-way he usually gets (don’t ask why Eddie knows that). He was talking back to Hargrove, probably something bitchy and sarcastic in typical Harrington-fashion based on the way Hargrove seemed to recoil for a moment before jumping back.

“Should we do something?” Gareth asked skeptically. Jeff shrugged where he was pressed against Eddie’s back.

“I’m going in.” Eddie stood and nearly knocked Jeff down in the process.

“Hang on—“

“Nope! Wish me luck, boys!” Eddie yelled over his shoulder while he dashed over. He heard them both get up and follow him.

…

Steve wanted to cry.

His head hurt so fucking bad and his back was killing him and he had ran into a shelf earlier and had a killer bruise on his arm and leg from it and everything was too fucking much.

Then, in all his asshole and dick glory, in came Billy Hargrove.

At this point, Steve would rather take another plate to the head then have to deal with his annoyingly aggravating voice. Hargrove came in, probably expecting Robin to be there, but got Steve instead. And honestly Steve would rather deal with him then leave Robin with him.

So he’s been enduring it, giving his own comments and comebacks but overall hating his life and just wanting to curl up and die.

Then his savior showed up. In all his black leather and chains, Eddie fucking Munson.

Hallelujah.

Hargrove seemed to back down the moment Munson showed up. Which wasn’t too strange considering that Munson supplied over half of Hawkins’ weed supply. Including Steve’s own for a while. He hasn’t bought in a while cause of the brat brigade.

But not the point.

Hargrove nodded to Munson. “Munson.”

Wow. Real cool, Billy. Steve held back a snicker.

“Heeyyy, Hargrove!” Munson cheerily greeted. But there was something about his smile that was off, to Steve. It seemed tighter than usual, his eyes not crinkling with the motion like normal. Don’t ask why Steve knows this.

Munson’s eyes seemed darker, too. Like he was angry. Maybe Hargrove didn’t pay him? Steve couldn’t bother to care with how bad his head started to pound.

He shouldn’t be at work with this migraine. He knows that. His doctor’s told him this multiple times. But he owes it to Robin for being late so much and he needs to prove to his dad that he can take care of himself.

“So what brings you here, Billy?” Munson asks casually, stepping farther into the shop. Steve seems to finally be forgotten about, and he places his head down on the counter. The cooled surface definitely helps with the spinning room.

He hears Hargrove say something back, but he isn’t paying attention anymore. His eyes are stating to go blurry and he really needs to sit down. But then Munson says something that catches his attention:

“Just leave Harrington alone, man. Last I checked he did nothing to you.”

What the hell? Steve wished he could lift his head and see what Munson was doing. What he looked like when he said that. If he looked as mean as he sounded.

Steve only lifts his head a few moments later when he feels a hand on his back. He shoots up quicker than he intends, and nearly falls back down if not for the hands still holding him up.

“Shit,” he grumbles quietly to himself, whining even quieter at the sudden rush of pain and the black dots in his vision.

“Easy there, your highness.” Munson.

Steve blinks slowly, letting Munson set him down in a booth. He doesn’t remember walking over but he’ll take it. He puts his head back down and intertwines his fingers behind his head. He groans quietly again, the pounding slowly receding.

“Hey man, is there something we could do? Do you need anything?” He heard Munson ask.

We? Steve wants to ask, but finds himself not caring. “Water, and my bag from the back please,” he rasps out. Talking makes the pounding worse.

He hears someone rush off to the back and a moment later a hands on his back again and is helping him sit up.

“Here ya go sweetheart.” Munson slides the glass of water and bag over to him.

Steve silently reaches into his bag and pulls out his small “to-go” med-kit. He carries it around mainly for the kids. Mike tends to be clumsier than he comes off as and Max is always trying out some new skateboarding tricks. From inside the kit he pulls out a pill bottle and swallows 2 with the water and goes for another 2 before a hand stops him.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to take more than 2.” This voice is new but familiar. Steve squints past the blurriness and makes out someone he recognizes from school; Gareth Emerson.

“4,” Steve manages past the lump in his throat. Munson, Emerson, and someone else Steve doesn’t quite know look at him. Munson continues to hold Steve’s hand on the table, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. It weirdly intimate but the comfort is very welcome.

“4 what?” The other guy asks.

“4 pills. I usually take 4.”

Munson and Emerson both wince. The third guy looks at him like he’s insane. Steve finally recognizes him as Jeff,… something. He actually never got his last name.

“Dude— are you trying to overdose!?”

Steve winced at the sudden loudness, whining quietly. Munson shushed Jeff and Steve heard him rush out an apology.

The bell over the door dinged at that moment, and Steve found himself face to face with Max, Mike, Will, Lucas, and— for some reason— Jonathan.

“Uh— hi?” Steve attempted for a greeting.

“‘Hi!?’” Mike yelled. “Hi yourself man! We called your walkie at least 4 times!! What the hell?”

“Are you ok? Why didn’t you answer?” Will asked in a much quieter tone.

Lucas and Max wasted no time before slotting themselves in the booth with Steve. Munson remained across from Steve, and Emerson and Jeff now hovered farther away, but Lucas slid right in next to Munson and Max next to Steve.

“What the fuck, Harrington?” Max demanded. But she clung to his shirt tightly.

“Language, Mayfield,” he reprimanded quietly.

Mike paused where he stood. “Why are you talking so quietly? Shit— do you have a migraine?”

Suddenly 4 pairs of little eyes were gazing at him with unmasked concern. Holy shit was this overwhelming.

“Guys—“

“Why didn’t you say that, Steve?” Lucas asked.

“Are you ok? How long has it been going on for? Asked Will.

“Why are even here if you’re not able to function properly?” Mike reprimanded in his own caring-ness.

Max clutched to him tighter. “Why aren’t you at home? You could’ve called in sick or something!”

“Shhh!” Mike shushed her.

“Don’t shush me—“

“Shut up!” He whisper shouted. “You have to be quiet and try to control your temperature while resting in a dark, quiet room to try and help with migraines. Pain killers help to but no more than 3.”

Everyone stared at him. He went a little pink under the sudden attention.

“Nancy gets migraines a lot from reading in the dark.”

Jonathan came over right then. Steve was suddenly overwhelmed by all the people surrounding him.

“Uhm—“

“Hey,” Munson called. Steve forgot about him for a good moment. “This is cute and all, but maybe we should not surround him? Poor boy looks like he’s gonna cry.”

Everyone turned to look at him. Tears had— in fact— sprung to his eyes.

“Sorry!” All the kids rushed out quietly at the same time. Max climbed out of the booth and Munson and Jonathan both assisted with helping Steve to the break room. Jeff and Emerson stayed with the kids, but Mike came with them since he seemed to know what he was doing better than the 3 of them.

On their way back to the room though, Steve’s legs nearly gave out from under him. Shit. It’s one of those days. Munson just barely managed to catch him under the armpits while Jonathan got him by the waist.

“Woah there, sweetheart.” Munson grunted.

“Careful, Steve,” Jonathan said quietly.

“Sorry. Spinning.” Steve exhaled shakily.

Mike came rushing back after realized they weren’t with him. “Damn. Spinning? Are you able to walk? Or are they gonna have to carry you?”

Jonathan looked up at the mention of having to carry Steve. “Yeah— I’m not able to carry him. I am so not strong enough for that.” He had the decency to look apologetic.

Munson chuckled quietly and the sound reverberated through his chest where Steve’s head was. It was soothing.

“Don’t worry Big Byers. I’ve got him no problem.”

Steve was given no warning before he was being picked up in a bridal carry. He winced sharply and laid his head on Munson’s shoulder. Jonathan whistled lowly from somewhere beside them and Steve blindly kicked his leg in his direction, scoring in kicking him in the arm. Jonathan snickered.

…

When Munson chased off Hargrove he didn’t expect for Harrington to all but collapse in on himself and try to fucking overdose on like 5 pain killers. He also hadn’t expected to be bombarded by 4 kids and 1 Jonathan Byers. Least of all did he expect to be carrying Harrington bridal style to the break room of Scoops Ahoy.

Somewhere behind him, Gareth turned the sign on the door to closed. Eddie silently thanked him.

The kid— who he vaguely remembers as Nancy Wheeler’s younger brother— opens the door and startles a half asleep Robin Buckley.

“Hello,” Jonathan throws her way before pulling a chair out for Eddie to sit on.

“Uh— hi? What the hell—“

Eddie takes the seat with Harrington in his lap. Robin looks dumbfounded.

“Migraine,” Jonathan helpfully supplies.

“Really, really bad migraine. Vertigo included. Full package tonight, folks.” Mike adds.

“Ok— um, is he ok? He doesn’t look ok. If it was so bad why didn’t he just call in sick?”

“That’s a good question,” Mike retorts quietly while rooting around in a freezer.

“What are you looking for”, Robin asks.

“Ice pack. The dumbass has everything in that first aid kit of his except a damn ice pack.”

“Language,” Harrington reprimanded quietly from where his cheek was against Eddie’s chest. Eddie chuckled quietly when Mike retorted with a half-assed “sorry”.

Eddie couldn’t help but admire the now sleeping Harrington in his lap. He bent in half like a shrimp, his knees just about to his chest, and his hands gripping tightly onto Eddie’s still-Pepsi-soaked t-shirt. But he looked so at peace while asleep. Like he hadn’t just had the worst migraine Eddie’s ever seen and wasn’t just about to pass out on his feet. Eddie smiled.

Mike comes over silently, managing to sneak up on Eddie and make him jump slightly and causing Harrington to whine. He’d been whining a lot today. And under “different circumstances” Eddie would’ve found it hot as fuck.

“Sorry,” Mike whispered. He seemed to be able mellow out a lot when he actually tried. He seemed like such an asshole out at the booth but now he seems quieter. These kids really cared about Harrington, huh?

“Here.” Jonathan helped him out and gently picked up Harrington’s head. Eddie caught Harrington actually kind of leaning into his touch. A strange but endearing friendship. Mike placed the ice pack— now wrapped in a cloth— on Eddie’s chest where Harrington’s head lays.

Harrington lays back down and is out like a light soon enough.

Eddie zoned out until there’s a very, very soft knock on the door. When he looks up, Jonathan is letting the other 3 kids in while Jeff and Gareth stand in the doorway.

“Is he ok?” Asks Jonathan’s little brother.

Jonathan nods and pats his head. “He’s ok, Will.”

The redhead walks over and takes a silent seat next to Eddie so she’s next to Harrington. She takes Harrington’s hand in hers and proceeds to just sit there and hold it.

“He’s ok, Max. Just a migraine,” the third kid, Lucas he thinks, reassures with a hand on Max’s shoulder.

“That’s what he said before. And then he was in the hospital.”

Woah, what?

“Hm?” Lucas looks at him.

Oh. He said that aloud.

“Wait what?” Robin asked quietly.

Jonathan’s whistled lowly. It seems to be a bit of a tic for him. “Yeah uh— funny story. Hargrove broke a plate over Steve’s head last year and nobody realized how bad it actually was until he passed out after claiming it was only a migraine.”

“He ended up in the hospital for like 2 weeks,” added Lucas.

“He needed several stitches on the side of his head.” Max unhappily supplied. Lucas squeezed her shoulder.

“It was a stage 4 concussion,” muttered Will and Mike put his head on his shoulder.

Eddie caught Gareth and Jeff’s eyes across the break room. Huh.

The Will kid came up to Eddie suddenly. “Thank you. For uh— helping with Steve. It means a lot to us. He means a lot to us.”

Mike, Max, and Lucas all nodded.

“Hang on,” Lucas piped up. “Who are you?”

…

So uh— set myself up for a part 2 there :’D

Part 2

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #eddie munson #robin buckley #will byers #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #corroded coffin #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie hcs #steddie fics #steddie #steve harrington whump #steve harrington gets killer migraines #the boy has 3 and counting concussions

[privitivium]

HEAR ME OUTTTTTT

......... Masochistic Delinquent Yan

i hear u loud n clear….. yan masochistic delinquent x himbo-ish reader. i enjoy this. might fuck around and make more and whatnot. delinquent bully yans have my heart fr.....

imagine him literally just fucking with you constantly just to get a reaction to put ur hands on him,, however, you provide none. you think it's just guys being guys and messing around, bullying one another! smacking each others’ bare asses with towels in the locker room, along with a little shit-talking type deal.. casually throwing insults at him, ruffling your hair dry - facing away from you with crossed arms - dick hard as he tries to form a coherent insultㅡ

before you slap his arm a little too hard on accident, playfully hitting him after throwing out an insult about his physique.. “don't fucking touch me, man..” he'd look at you as if you were stupid, even if you were just a little bit, yeah, it still hurts,,, fuck he didnt msan literally!! don't look at him with that sad puppy dog look!!! you can touch him, he promises!!!! but alas, he has to keep up his cruel and enigmatic nature with other people around… he can't beg you on his knees that yes please hit him, please continue playfully insulting him in that dark toneㅡ

delinquent often daydreaming while staring at you. very obvious. pressing on the accidental bruises you'd leave on his arms while he jerks off,,, thinking about his hair being pulled by your strong hands, muttering insults in his ear that would make him writhe tearfully and cum spurt from his tip,,,, being in a chokehold by ur thick arms while being fucked from behind against a hallway of the campus or in the very back of a library, classroom.. in a dark corner where no one can exactly see nor make out that he's riding you while you pinch his nipples under his shirt while biting at his neck harshly - reprimanding him about being quiet and that he's a fucking pussy and not at all a badass that he thinks he is - an exhibitionist of sorts.. ultimately going through all of your physical features, trying to rile you up,,, that gets him no where. you were confident in yourself. tch… your friends maybe? you seem the chivalrous type? no, nothing.. they're all idiots who can hold their own.

then he finally makes it to your car. your prized possession, with your own money. that is your baby. he scratches it up with his loser little switchblade, something small but still noticeable to the owner rather than a mere passerby.. he was leaning against it all coolly, waiting for you while popping the blade in and out of place - that, is when you lose your mind,, realistically, it'll buff right out, but still! that's your car! literally, just what is this guy's deal???! you think it's a little too far, but you leave him bloodied and battered, heaving over him; eyes glazing over the bulge in his admittedly tight black jeans. “jeez bro, i'm so sorry,,, ur gonna be okay, alright??? im so sorry,,” you'd meekly squeak, repeating almost tearful apologies, losing urself in ur rather gentle rage. your hands roaming over his face and fingertips shakily grazing his bloodied nose,,, before telling him you'll help him out, dragging him into the passenger seat of your car;; offering him a ride home or maybe to simply fix him up.. he lets you - offering no words of disagreement nor displeasure, obviously,, i mean who else is gonna take care of his fucking boner??? you gave it to him, you have to make it go away, no?? Tis only fair..

#ocs =͟͟͞͞★ #x male reader #male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #x dom male reader #x top male reader #delinquent yan !!

[rusmii]

ಇ. BSD MEN IN OMEGAVERSE

#🫧 includes : fem!reader x dazai, chuuya

#🫧 notes : yall may think im weird for this, but hear me out! i got curious and decided to make a/b/otology. more characters later!!💀

#🫧 cws : smut hcs is in its own section so u can skip over it, a/b/o dynamics, ruts/heats, pls don't take this seriously, uh implied weird sex with these men, mentioned: fisting, cunni, fingering, marathon sex, big dicks, cervix touching, rough fucking, bed breaking, FEM TERMS ARE USED!!! (pussy), unknown drug mori gave you and chuuya

#🫧 taglist (free to join!) : @luvan1 @dollchuya

— 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 : general hcs

idk I'm leaning towards alpha

dazai is more like a non stero typical alpha due to his lack of outwardly cocky confidence and average muscle a normal alpha should have

at first glance he seems like a regular beta - hell even with some submissive qualities 💀

but as you get to know him you also notice the shift in his scent

dazai is the type to wear scent blockers bc he just doesn't wanna deal with a flock of whores coming his way whenever he's out

as for when he presented, probably around 15. a little after when mori found him and recruited chuuya

dazai isn't really an aggressive alpha per say, but as an alpha it's rlly in his instincts so if you're observant, you may notice his passive aggressive attitude

him in the pm was ruthless tho. he was murdering dicks with just his presence, but he's a changed man now

dazais rut cycles happen every 4 weeks (every month). average rut time that lasts a week

since he's an alpha most likely he's going to be a little bigger than the average beta. maybe abt 4.7 inches when soft and 7-8 inches when hardened

he doesn't have a preference in the omegas he likes but if he were to choose, probably an omega who reminds him of oda in way

basically someone who won't judge him for who he is cause dazai is a whole mess to deal with😭

— 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 : smut hcs (u can skip this part)

hope u guys didn't forget this is an omegaverse post

anyways dazai goes feral when he dicks you down😭

shoving you on his cock even when he only used one finger:( jk nah he uses his whole fist first

you're stretched so wide opened that you don't even need a plug. your slick already producing more than enough to replace a whole bucket of lube

that's when he bullies his cock up into you. making sure you least expect it— making you beg and moan then shoves it in when your mouth is already wide open

I'm sorry if ur on the smaller side but dazais dick IS gonna be 7-8 inches so if you're like under 5'4 then yeah you might feel that shit up in your cervix

but that's fine since you're born to be bred that way (omega reader)

that aside, dazai isn't as dominant as other alphas. controlling, yes. lazy? definitely

rather have you fuck yourself on his dick then do much work but that's when he's NOT on his rut

if he's on his rut then yeah, ur pussy is getting a restraining order against his dick

bro your pussy would be PULSING for daaysss after his rut😭😭 you wouldn't even wanna open your legs for this man anymore

your heat cycles and his rut cycles probably don't align, meaning more days off work, meaning a happy dazai

dazais version of aftercare is eating his cum out of you then carrying you to use the bathroom to pee then carry you back to bed to sleep

— 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 : general hcs

ALPHA 100%

but gets mistaken for an omega💀

as an alpha, chuuya exerts that usual cocky confidence and muscle a normal alpha would have. in fact he probably has more than the average alpha

the only reason why chuuya gets mistaken as an omega is bc of how short he is. there's no way that an alpha could be so non stero typical but chuuyas existence proves everyone wrong

chuuya doesn't wear scent blockers then complains abt omegas, BETAS even, clinging onto him like he's gonna leave them after edging them for years

submissive betas though, normal and more dominant betas aren't crazy over him like that😭

as for when chuuya presented, he was a late bloomer lmfaooo. buddy presented as an alpha at 18

ngl everyone thought he was gonna be one dominant omega but chuuyas biology rlly said, "lemme show yall where i put the rest of his height"

unlike dazai, chuuya is one hell of a volatile alpha. one second he's calm then he's slamming a random alphas head in the wall bc he was harassing omegas

a volatile alpha for good reasons (unless it's dazai)

chuuyas rut cycles comes every 3 weeks and lasts for about a week and a half. not on the average time but pretty close to it

he'd just have to adjust and manage his timing well

like dazai, he's gonna have a BIG D so I'd say around the same length as him, 8-9 inches when hard and 5 when softened. as for width though? man's a coke can. THICK AS FUCK.

chuuya does have a preference in his omegas. he'd prefer a more submissive but act-like-they're-in-charge type of omega. he's not picky though, and will worship an omega anyways

that will always send them the wrong signals but it's alr since it's chuuya

— 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 : smut hcs (u can skip this)

a dominant man always loves being on top

chuuya be the type to finger you while eating you ouuut😝 literally doesn't stop till his face, neck-down is SOAKED

and chuuyas fingers are BIG like did you guys know his hands are bigger than dazais?!? one finger would probably equal to two of yours

bby makes sure to stretch you wide open cz he knows he big:((

just know that his tip is gonna be slobbering your cervix, so let's hope your omega body is aroused enough to stretch for him

on normal days where normal sex occurs, chuuya doesn't really treat you any differently from his rut days

only difference being that he's softer and gentler, especially on special days

during his ruts however.......... yo bro breaking bed after bed yall might as well just fuck on the floor😭

like it's gotten to the point where you just use a floor bed

ik ur neighbors banging on the doors every 3 weeks

your pussy is literally applying for another alpha cause WHEWW man keeping up with chuuya is a workout on its own

it don't help the fact that his stamina exceeds normal people staminas

your heat cycles and his rut cycles align! when you and chuuya first mated, you both took these unknown concoctions mori gave yall to align your cycles

in chuuyas house, aftercare is important. or at least that's what he says before knocking tf out and you having to drag your ass out of bed to clean yourself + him up

he feels bad abt it the next morning and makes you stay in bed for like the next 3 days

©CHURUAI ;;; don't steal, plagiarize, or repost my works

rbs and comments appreciated <3<3

#[˚₊‧꒰ა🩰] — runi #would have added more characters but im DONE with hcs #pls dont steal this layout! i rlly like it:( #bsd omegaverse #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya smut #dazai smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #chuuya x you #dazai x you #chuuya x y/n #dazai x y/n #chuya x reader

[pedroslittlelady]

Just You & Me, Darlin'

joel miller x f!reader (18+)

A/N: OMG Okay, I'm actually doing this! I'm posting something for the first time in over 4 years and I'm super nervous. Pedro Pascal just has me by the titties, and so do all of you wonderful writers and artists I've been so inspired by, so here is my little contribution 🫣💕

You can also read this on my ao3 if you prefer 😊

summary: When Tommy returns to the QZ without you, Joel is both terrified and furious but he’s determined to get you back safe no matter what.

tags/warnings: 18+ Explicit | Minors Do Not Interact Please! no use of y/n, boston qz, fluff, hurt/comfort, mention of suicidal thoughts, slight exhibitionism, explicit smut, unprotected piv, no description of female reader, other than joel can pick you up and kinda implied age gap, squirting, emotional sex, unbeta'd, use of pet names (sweetheart, baby, darlin', baby girl). oh and you're both super in love so :) I think that's it.

word count: 5.9k

Joel’s heart was fluttering within his chest, nerves and excitement flooding him as he made his way up the steps of his apartment building. If all had gone well, you were due back from the week-long smuggling run outside of the QZ today, and he had been stuck on work duty for most of it. 

He hadn’t been able to go with you since someone had needed to stay back and protect their store of goods and ration cards from being stolen in their absence, they’d learned this the hard way. 

And in his mind he’d drawn the short straw.

Joel would much rather be out there with you than stuck here wondering if you were okay. Here, he was unable to do anything if something went wrong but he knew you, the little hell-raiser that you were could definitely handle yourself. 

The both of you had agreed when you first started sleeping together that it shouldn’t mess with the business, it gave you all a more comfortable life in the QZ than most got to have after all. 

Even after falling hard for one another following the sharing of your past within whispered cuddles post sex, you both still tried to keep the business professional and that meant trusting one another to watch your own and your partners’ backs. 

As he entered his apartment he was surprised to see Tommy sitting on his couch with his head in his hands. 

Joel’s stomach dropped at the sight, he already knew something was wrong. Heart breaking into a gallop against his sternum he quickly scanned the apartment, the open layout giving him a view of the whole room and you were nowhere in sight.

Joel's hands tightened into fists, his jaw tensing in anger and fear as he focused his intense gaze on his little brother who was now worrying his lip.

“Where is she,” Joel stated more than questioned in his deep southern timbre, his voice thick with emotion. Anger, fear, anguish and dread were all suddenly clogging up his throat. He swallowed to keep it contained, needing to keep his head on straight right now.

“I don’t know brother,” Tommy responded, guilt and slight fear painted his features as he looked up at his older brother.

“The hell do you mean you don’t know?” Joel growled as he prowled closer to his brother who quickly stood from his slumped position. “I trusted you to watch her back, to keep her safe for me!” Joel couldn’t control himself, the emotions from the thought of losing you, of never seeing you again were too much to handle and he grabbed his brother by the neck of his jacket and shook him.

“The deal went bad! Me and Tess got separated from her!” Tommy quickly explained, his hands gripping onto Joel's shaking wrists. “We tried to find her but… shit man, things are more fucked up out there than ever. We were hoping she’d made it back here.”

Joel pushed his brother away from him, afraid he would start swinging. Rage and fear consumed him, tightening his heaving chest as he ran his hands through his greying hair. He quickly stalked over to his weapons stash beneath the floorboards while vile images of you being scared and hurt, being taken by sex traffickers and all manner of other atrocities he’d seen and heard about over all his years surviving in this hell were flooding his mind.

If it was the last thing he did, he’d find you himself and bring you home. The thought of never finding you was unspeakable and he quickly pushed that horrible scenario out of his mind. But then another took its ugly place as he quickly grabbed his go bag; what if he found you dead or dying?

Well that would be the end, wouldn’t it?

He paused before looking at his little brother, standing before him paler than he’d seen him in a long time. Exhaustion was dragging Tommy down and Joel knew that he and Tess had done the best they could to find you; they loved you too.

“I’ll find her and bring her back,” Joel stated.

“I’ll come with-”

“No… thank you, but no. You're exhausted, you’ll just slow me down. If I don’t come back… then I…,” Joel trailed off as he watched anguish and fear become apparent on his little brother's face.

“Joel. Don’t. Please, brother,” Tommy begged, already knowing where Joel’s head was at.

“I can’t…” Joel felt his voice break as tears flooded his vision, blurring the image of his baby brother walking towards him. 

Next thing Joel knew, his brother's arms were around him and Joel let himself feel the rare embrace for just a moment. He and his brother had never been the most affectionate with each other even before the outbreak, so the fact his brother was hugging him so tightly told him Tommy knew exactly what you meant to him. How could he not, with how blatant the two of you were with your lovesick need for each other. You had become his whole world, a quick spiral into passionate need that seemed to drive the two of you from the very moment you became one when he took you on that dirty warehouse floor three years earlier.

His head dipped to Tommy’s shoulder as silent tears rolled down his cheeks and into his patchy beard, into that place where you always kissed him, as if that spot had been made just for you. A place to kiss and lick and nibble like you loved to do when you both were intimate, which was basically whenever you were in the same room as one another, everyone else be damned.

Would Joel ever feel that again? Had you both made all the memories together that you ever would? The last time he saw you flashed in his mind, replacing the ugly panicked images from before. You’d smiled up at him, arms wrapped around one another, foreheads pressed together as you whispered your ‘see you laters’ - never ‘goodbyes’ - to each other, while Tess and Tommy looked on and rolled their eyes in annoyance at your overt pda.

The Joel of before had never been one for public displays of affection, to the point where one woman had broken things off with him because she’d said he was cold, that he didn’t care enough about her. He’d realised later on that she had probably been right. More conscious of how much affection he was giving in front of others than he should have been.

Now though, with you these last few years? Joel didn’t give a single fuck what people thought of how he held your hand, kissed you, sat you on his lap as he made deals with all kinds of people. He loved when you’d do the same, when you would kiss him in that spot that was surely made purely for your mouth while you rolled your hips against his hardening cock. The greedy eyes of lowlifes watching on in pure jealousy of how unashamed you were with showing everyone how wanton you could get for him. His precious little hell-raiser.

Shit, he’d fucked you outside before and hadn’t cared who’d heard. It had actually turned him on to know the residents had heard your desperate and lustful cries as you let him take you from behind in an alleyway between two apartment buildings. Anyone could’ve looked out and seen how Joel Miller got to have you be his, the most vicious beauty in all of Boston, submitting to him, belonging to him.

Joel quickly pulled away from Tommy before he got too emotional about how this day had turned into a fucking real life nightmare. 

As he strode towards his apartment door with his go bag on his back and his weapons tucked away on his person, he rubbed the tears from his eyes and face. He couldn’t look back at Tommy so he roughly pulled open the door and walked out with a quickly uttered, “see you brother.”

While descending to street level Joel struggled to get his emotions under control. It had been a long time since he had cried, since he had felt this scared and helpless, but he pushed through and began to formulate a plan on how he would get out of the QZ through a smuggler tunnel they had created two years ago. Then he would find you so he could bring you home, safe and sound.

There was no other option he would let himself consider from here on out, he needed to focus on his current mission.

Joel steeled himself as he walked out of the apartment building and turned right to head to the closest smuggling route out of the QZ. As he looked up to assess his surroundings he was stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of you standing in front of him.

His eyes widened in shock as you stood before him, a shaky vulnerable look on your pretty as sin face. Joel choked on your name in disbelief and before he knew it his hands were grasping your cheeks and his lips were crushing against yours in a desperate kiss.

He pulled away from your tight embrace to quickly gasp, “What the hell happened, baby?” Before he kissed you again and again and again. So relieved to feel you alive and whole in his arms once more.

But then worry clouded his mind; the look on your face as you saw him notice you replayed in his mind.

Joel once again pulled away from the desperate kisses you both were sharing to truly look into your wide teary eyes.

“Are… are you okay, sweetheart? Are you hurt? Let me see you,” Joel pleaded in a vulnerable whisper. He reluctantly pulled further away so he could assess you until you spoke for the first time since your reunion.

“I’m okay Joel, baby. I’m okay I promise!” You gasped as Joel began to pull up your sleeves and the hem of your shirt to see your slightly bruised and cut skin, clearly searching for a fatal wound like a bite that he thankfully would not find.

“Joel!” You shouted to get his attention, uncaring of the passers-by on the busy street taking notice of your desperate interaction.

Joel stopped his searching as you placed your hands on his cheeks and gave a soft smile when you saw the fear in his eyes recede into a warm relieved look of love that always made your chest flutter in unbelievable happiness, like butterflies bursting with life within you. You had never expected to get to this point with anyone, let alone the cold standoffish brute Joel Miller who had barely seemed to tolerate you the first few weeks after your initial meeting. 

To have this big, dangerous, sometimes scary but protective man look at you like you were his whole world was intoxicating. No wonder you could never keep your hands off of him. 

It had started after the first time you’d fucked, and that’s all it had been meant to be. A desperate fuck after a near death experience, both of you alone and thankful to be alive. You had exchanged no words but a heady look and before you’d known what was happening he was kissing into your mouth before pinning you onto the hard dirty floor and fucking you silly.

You knew he’d been sleeping with Tess at the time, although it wasn’t serious, and you had slipped into Tommy’s bed once or twice, but for years you had respected Joel’s leadership and strength, and of course enjoyed admiring how handsome he really was, but you both had never been particularly close, until then.

After, you had both agreed it wouldn’t happen again. You reluctantly agreed with him even though your legs had felt like jelly after the best orgasms you’d ever been given, having never before been fucked like Joel Miller liked to fuck. 

It happened again of course, the very next night when you took a chance and slipped into his room and cot. He hadn’t said a thing against it, only a cocky, “can’t get enough huh, hell-raiser?” 

After you sucked him to full hardness he’d let you ride him as fast or slow as you wanted while he just watched you. In the wake of your first orgasm Joel had snapped and took control once more by putting you on your back and practically folding you in half. He’d fucked you so hard you’d screamed your pleasure, so loud you had only realised afterward that Tommy and Tess must have been 100% aware of what was happening. But you’d come so hard you’d squirted all over Joel and made a complete mess, but you had seen in Joel’s eyes how much he’d absolutely loved it.

There was no talk of it never happening again after that, only an acknowledgement that business came first. A few months into your arrangement he began cuddling you after sex, asking you not to leave his bed in the sweetest whisper against the back of your head. You had agreed, threading your fingers through his and nodding with a simple, “yes Joel.”

And you hadn’t left, you both barely let the other out of your lovesick sight as you basically moved in with him. Tess and Tommy quickly moved out so they didn’t have to listen to the both of you ‘fucking every goddamn day.’

“I’m fine baby, I promise. Okay?” You kissed Joel softly bringing you back to the present, his arms tightening around you.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if… fuck, I thought you were-” Joel was crushing you against him, lips brushing yours as he spoke. A tremble was in his voice, one you’ve come to know more over the years as he opened up to you about things from his past.

“I’m right here darlin’, right where I’m supposed to be,” you gently spoke while running your hands through his salt and pepper curls. The action always calmed him down.

“I love you so goddamn much, hell-raiser.” Joel smiled against your lips before kissing you again. You chuckled, feeling tears gather in your eyes at the silly pet name he’d given you after your first chaotic introduction years ago which involved you wielding a couple molotov cocktails. The first of many pet names he graced you with, but definitely your favourite.

“I love you too, big guy.”

Your back gently hit the apartment building as Joel increased the pressure of your kisses, a desperation taking over you both as the feeling of being reunited after a close call washed over you once again.

Joel hiked your leg up and ground his hardened cock against your rapidly soaking pussy making you gasp at the sting of pain the suddenness of your arousal wrought as it travelled deep into your rapidly warming core.

“Joel,” you panted into his mouth as he licked at your tongue before sucking it into his mouth with a growl of need you felt emanating from his belly which was pressed tight against yours.

“Fuck, need inside your tight little cunt right now, darlin’,” Joel rumbled before he hastily began to undo your jeans, his lips carving a wet path across your cheek and down your tilting neck. He bit you quick and hard there, marking you; claiming you. You gasped, your arousal seeping from your desperately empty channel and trickling into your panties as you tilted your hips against his rock hard cock.

Joel slipped his thick fingers into your wet slit making you moan into his mouth.

“Get a room,” you heard someone mutter as they walked past. Joel growled before pulling away to glare fiercely at the man who suddenly blanched before quickly scurrying away at the sight of Joel hovering over you with a murderous look in his eyes. 

You giggled at the interaction, drawing his attention back to you, his eyes softening at your mischievous smirk.

“Take me to bed, big guy. Remind me who I belong to,” you murmured before biting your lower lip in anticipation as Joel's eyes turned blacker than the deepest cavern within the fathomless ocean.

He grabbed you by the back of the neck and began to steer you back into the apartment building and up the stairs. You could feel his eyes on your ass before a slap landed there making you squeak excitedly. “Hurry the fuck up, darlin’,” Joel growled with a squeeze to your right cheek making you skip up the stairs quicker, panties practically drenched now.

The next second he was pushing open your apartment door, throwing off his bag and flipping you around to face him so he could kiss you hungrily once more. His thick tongue probed every part of your mouth, overwhelming you. You whimpered, your hands caressing through his hair to scratch gently at his scalp.

His grip on your thighs suddenly let you know what he was about to do and you braced your hands on his broad shoulders as he quickly hoisted you up, your legs wrapping around his hips. You both groaned and panted into one another's mouth at the feel of being pressed together.

You stilled when you heard the clearing of a throat. Joel groaned in annoyance as your lips separated wetly.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” Tommy said before covering a slight laugh with a cough, Joel glowered. “But I’m really glad you're okay, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Tommy. I appreciate it.” You smiled, so glad to see him safe and sound too. You told him this and questioned where Tess was and he informed you that she was just fine also.

“I just wanted to say-” Tommy started to speak.

“Enough said,” Joel growled. “Talk later. We're busy, brother.” Joel raised his brows clearly unabashed at being caught in this position by his baby brother.

“Jeez, alright lover boy-” Tommy rolled his eyes.

“I swear to God Tommy if you don’t get the fuck out of here now I’ll-”

“Okay okay! We’ll catch up later, Christ.” Tommy shook his head but you could see he wasn’t truly annoyed by the relieved look on his face.

As Tommy made his way to the door, a smirk was painted on his handsome face. Joel just pierced him with a frustrated and grumpy glare, you couldn’t help but snort softly while still being held up in his strong arms.

“See you later Tommy, and tell Tess thanks as well when you see her,” you quickly uttered before you forgot all about Tess and Tommy in just a few seconds.

“Will do, sweetheart. See you later. You too, Romeo.” Tommy laughed before darting out the door as fast as he could once he’d heard Joel’s growl of annoyance.

“C’mon baby,” you murmured in his ear before sucking the lobe into your mouth bringing his attention back to you, his eyes softening once more. “Need to feel your big cock inside me, I feel so empty.” You pouted playfully even though you could still feel some of the adrenaline and fear from your near miss swarming inside you. 

You had very nearly not made it home to him and that thought made your heart jump and your hold on your lover tighten. You didn’t know if you could hold back on the avalanche of feeling you knew was headed your way.

“Poor baby,” Joel responded as he carried you to your bed and laid you down, his back not being able to hold you up for much longer, not if he was going to fuck you like you both needed after today. “Don’t you worry darlin’, I got you.”

Joel stood before you and began to remove the various weapons from his body, his dark intense gaze never leaving you as you began to writhe in need.

“Hurry Joel,” you whimpered, a desperation taking over now that you weren’t in his arms anymore. You felt tears gather in your eyes at just how lucky you were to be back here with him, safe and sound. You couldn’t hold back a hiccupping sob threatening to escape you.

Joel took notice and quickly hovered over you, one hand on your hip, the other palming your cheek and wiping a tear away. “You're okay now, baby. I got you.” He kissed your forehead and you could hear him inhale your scent as he did.

“Joel.” You murmured, feeling a little overwhelmed. You needed to release these emotions, and Joel was the best at giving you just what you needed, what you both needed.

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” Joel murmured, his own gaze tear filled meeting yours before he pressed his lips to yours for a desperate kiss. You struggled to keep up with his kisses at first but then he was scraping his teeth down your jaw and sucking on your neck.

You bucked your hips up against him, his leg slipping between yours so you could grind on him. You whimpered, needing his bare skin to be slick against yours as you once again fitted together so perfectly. 

You needed the intimacy and the vulnerability of being beneath his broad form as he fucked you deep and hard, imprinting himself within you forever.

As if Joel had read your mind, he pulled back from nuzzling between your breasts, his big strong hands grasped the collar of your shirt and ripped it down the middle in one go.

You gasped at the action, at the grimace of need on his face as he began to manhandle you in a desperate need to get you naked beneath him. You unhooked your bra as he roughly pulled down your jeans and panties in one go, snarling in annoyance when your boots hampered his mission.

As soon as you were bare Joel was back on the bed and spreading your legs up and wide so he could see your perfectly soaked little cunt fluttering needily around nothing. Fuckin’ Heaven right there, he thought to himself as he dragged his eyes up your heaving belly and chest to see you biting your lip, small hands fisting the sheets beneath you.

“Please Joel, want you naked against me,” you practically begged, pupils blown out, eyes still glistening. He knew from your reaction something had scared you, probably a moment of terror in thinking you weren’t going to make it back to him in one piece or at all. The idea of that being a very real possibility that could have happened shook him to his core and he quickly tore off his clothes, not wanting to be away from your touch for longer than necessary.

He began to kiss every scrape and bruise as he made his way up your chest. Soon his eyes were looking deep into your soft gaze, your arms and legs wrapping around him and he knew he was finally home. He brushed his nose along yours, both his hands tunnelling into your pretty hair as he gazed down at you.

“You and me, darlin’, that’s all I need. Just you, I fuckin’ love you, you drive me goddamn insane with it, you know that?” His gaze was soft but intense, his words rumbled out of his pouty lips.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your own hands rubbing his back soothingly before sliding up his neck and into his hair. “But I feel the same.”

“Don’t be sorry, darlin’. You’re the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time. Just scares the hell outta me,” he nearly choked on his words before burying his face into the sexy slope of your neck, inhaling your heavenly scent. “Can’t lose you, baby.”

“I’m right here, not losing me, Joel,” you responded softly before kissing his scarred temple.

Joel slowly lowered his hips as he lifted his head to kiss you, his weeping cock covering your pussy, soaking him even further. Normally Joel would prepare you, stretch you with his thick fingers and make you come on his tongue but from the way you were mewling and moving against him he knew you both needed to become one right now. Besides, you had told him plenty of times how you liked the slight pain his cock created when it stretched your little hole open, the  girth of him too wide to fit comfortably at first.

You both angled your hips, well versed in the best way to slot together hands free. Your breath hitched when the crown of his twitching cock popped inside you.

“So fuckin’ tight and wet for me, baby girl.”

“Joel,” you whimpered against his lips before your hips pushed against him, sliding more of him within your aching heat.

He stared into your watery eyes as he gripped your hip with a bruising grasp and began to push into your tightness. He loved watching the way your mouth opened into a little ‘o’ shape and the space between your brows creased cutely in pain.

“Takin’ my cock so well, you precious little fuckin’ thing,” Joel growled as he bottomed out causing you to gasp. Your perfect cunt clenching around him was like nothing he’d ever felt before. 

Your breasts heaved against his chest as he let you adjust to the stretch of him for a moment. But he had little patience right now, so he soon pulled back making you whimper sweetly and he kissed into your mouth soothingly before he moved his hand to the back of your neck and held it tightly.

Pulling back from the kiss he quickly punched his hips down and forward, slamming deep inside you and causing your body to jolt from the force, his hands holding you steady. You weren’t going anywhere.

The squeak you let out was choked off when he did it again, and again. The soundtrack to your desperate love making became the wet slapping of skin on skin, the gasps of pleasure and the cries of pain as you melded together as one. Sweaty skin sliding against hardened nipples and harsh gasps were shared as he rhythmically pounded you into the mattress

“Joel, Joel, oh God Joel don’t stop!” you pleaded wide eyes staring up at his fervent expression as he gazed down at you.

“Fuck! That’s it baby, take my cock.” Joel grimaced in pleasure.

“Please, baby. Go faster!” You yelped as his hips smacked against you, his heavy balls soaked from your arousal.

He granted your plea, arching his back so he could suck on your tight nipples, hands grasping under and over your shoulders as he began to piston sharply within you, pulling you onto his thick cock.

“Yes yes yes, gonna come,” you suddenly gasped and Joel knew it was true by how your tight little pussy started fluttering around his shaft, sucking him deep.

“Come all over me, baby girl,” he whispered against your parted lips, sweat building between you as you both moved in sync, chasing that beautiful euphoria he always granted you.

You had been feeling it build within you so deeply, you knew you were about to crest that tremendous wave of pleasure you associated with Joel and how he always spoiled you rotten when you made love. It hit deep and sharp, making you arch your back and cry out against his lips as your pussy clutched so tightly to him, never wanting him to stop or leave your most vulnerable place that he always cherished.

It caught your breath as you ascended into ecstasy, all you could do was whimper against his plush lips as you came. His hips stuttered as you tightened, unable to keep up the pace at how tightly you were grasping at him. Nails scraping his back, legs spreading further, toes curling against his thick thighs.

“Good girl, baby,” he practically whimpered as you came around him. “That’s my good girl. Fuck, I love you,” Joel growled while he quickened his pace again, the ache in his lower back completely ignored. He sat up a bit, lifted your legs so they fell over the bend in his elbows before planting his hands on the bed.

You were practically folded in half, completely dazed from that intense orgasm as he manoeuvred you however he liked. You loved when he treated you like his precious little fuck doll. 

“Oh my God, baby,” you gasped, just watching as his hulking form rose above you, his dark desperate eyes dragging from your own eyes to your bouncing breasts as he started pumping his cock into you once more. The generous crown of his cock repeatedly hit that amorous spot deep inside you that only Joel could locate.

His stare was fixated on where you were joined together as he continued to thrust, slowing a little to admire it. “Sweet little pussy is creaming all over my dick, fuck!” Joel couldn’t take his eyes away from it, your abused hole flushed with arousal and soaked with your mingling desire. “God damn, baby girl. You can really take some cock, huh?”

All you could do was whimper at the vision he made above you, greedy lustful stare focused on your needy hole stretched around the wide circumference of his wet cock pumping inside you. The broad expanse of his tanned slick shoulders, the strength of his hands as they wrapped his calloused fingers around your hips, angling them perfectly. He sat up, his knees bracketing your ass and you quickly pressed your hands up behind you knowing exactly what was coming. Your heart jumped in your chest, you loved to watch him above you like this; using you, loving you so deeply and harshly.

“Gonna cum so deep inside your cunt, baby girl. Never gonna be rid of me,” Joel growled before rolling his hips into you, knowingly hitting that special place inside you that usually had you squirting all over him. 

He never forgot that moment you’d shared with one another. Only your second time together and he had given it to you so good it was probably one of his proudest moments, his ego getting a huge boost that had been well needed at the time. 

You had been so shocked and loud, you’d practically screamed at the sensation, shivering so vulnerably beneath him afterward it had stuck deep inside his chest afterward. It had pushed him to coo to you softly at your little whimpers, telling you that you were okay, that you had been so sexy and beautiful for him.

His hips were rolling and thrusting into you making you moan and stare up at him in awe. This man was all fucking yours.

“Mine, Joel. You’re mine.”

“Yeah, baby. All yours, this cock is all yours. And who does this pussy belong to, hmm?” he questioned with a smirk as he stared down into your wide eyes as his hips picked up the pace, you continuing to reciprocate his movements like a well choreographed dance.

“Yours, my pussy’s all yours. No one else's, baby.”

“Good girl,” Joel praised before leaning over  you, his pretty lips pressing into yours, widening your mouth and swiping his tongue against yours as your pussy flooded his cock and balls creating a slapping sound that made you whimper and blush.

“Always so fuckin’ wet for me. Ain’t ya, sweetheart,” Joel groaned. “Fuckin’ love you.”

“Love you too, now fill me up, baby. Please!” You gasped against him, your foreheads now pressed against one another, mouths sharing harsh breaths. 

You braced against the headboard with one hand while moving the other to his curly hair desperately seeking purchase as your arousal grew once more. Core warming and tightening in an impending orgasm and when he shifted your position so he could press against your clit and urethra with his fingers your stomach jumped, knowing exactly what he wanted from you.

“Oh Joel,” you whined.

“Yeah baby, drench me please,” Joel encouraged and you began to flutter around the precise pumping of his twitching cock within your sensitive walls.

It hit you suddenly, your back arched with a quick scream of pleasure and the overstimulation that you associated with squirting. Joel groaned in pleasure as you burst with feeling.

“Atta fuckin’ girl, baby! That’s it, shit I’m gonna come,” Joel gasped as you soaked him, a vision beneath him, sweat slicked tits bouncing, mouth agape in a shout of intense pleasure and eyes practically rolling into the back of your head.

Joel's hips stuttered, his balls tightening even more as he felt his pleasure travel from deep within his core, up to the swollen tip of his cock. “Fuck, baby,” Joel whimpered into your neck as he began to spurt his come deep into your womb, hips stuttering and grinding against yours with the need to stuff you full of his cum.

“Yes, Joel,” you whimpered as you felt him empty himself within you. You nudged his head as he did, wanting to see his handsome face in pleasure. He lifted and looked down at you, cum still spilling, overflowing you and trickling down your ass. “That’s it, baby. Fill me up good. I want all your cum,” you whispered softly as you gazed up at him. His face was so vulnerable and needy in that moment you couldn’t help but clench around him once more.

His balls had emptied with each ejection of his cum inside you, hips finally stilling as his cock became oversensitized to the stimulation still happening.

“Easy, baby girl. Easy.” Joel chuckled as he fell against you, completely spent before kissing you so softly that your heart jumped. “You think I can go again at my age?”

“You think I can go again after that?” You giggled breathily, completely satisfied. The impending avalanche of emotions purged from you in pleasure by your lover.

“Yeah, baby. Don’t doubt yourself.” Joel rubbed his nose against yours affectionately, a small grin on his face, eyes as soft as chocolate ice-cream.

“Then you don’t doubt yourself either.”

“I know my limits and my back is shot, darlin',” Joel grumbled in annoyance, his softly grinning face turning so grumpily pouty you couldn’t help but melt, you loved that you got to see this side of him that he unveiled to no one else but you. He really was all yours.

“Oh, poor baby,” you whispered to him before nudging him to the side so he could rest flat on the mattress, his softened dick slipping out of you with a flood of his cum which tickled your still trembling thighs. You definitely planned on giving him another back massage as soon as you both got some sleep, he had fucked you so perfectly; hard and loving. He certainly deserved it. “Rest now, we’re together and that’s all that matters.”

Joel sighed as he settled into the admittedly uncomfortable bed, but with you snuggling up against his chest he had no complaints.

“I don’t want you goin’ out there without me anymore, okay? Fuck the business, you’re more important.”

You looked up at him “As long as you don’t go out there without me either, we’re more important,” you agreed with a sigh of relief.

“Just you and me, darlin’. That’s all I need,” Joel assured you.

You snuggled deeper into his strong arms, a warm sense of safety and love blanketing your heart as his arms tightened and his lips kissed the top of your head with a mumbled, “Love you, hell-raiser.”

You kissed his chest before replying, “Love you too, big guy.”

A/N: Thank you to any of you who made it to the end of this, I hope you enjoyed it! Please consider reblogging and/or commenting to help this little story of mine find new readers💕😘

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #clare's stories #pedroslittlelady writes #tw: mention of suicidal thoughts #tlou fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #implied age gap #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction

[solar-wing]

🦇 Surviving Damian: BatBro's Life 🎞️

I don't know why, but the way Damian turns to look at Dick in this clip has me rolling

🦇 🎞️ A/N → A continuation of my Batbro Headcanons with everyone's favorite little assassin, Damian. This is also inspired by this post from @batsiblingfun. This mixes in a lot of different elements from different DC shows and movies, but still all tie together. Conner x Reader along with Damian x Raven included. WARNINGS: None really. family fluff, minor threats of violence. You and Damian conspiring together. Bruce needs his lawyers. Mentions of trauma and therapy. Joker being Joker.

🦇🎞️ Summary → It's one thing to find out Bruce Wayne is your biological father. It's another thing to find out you also have a half-brother from the same father who also didn't meet him until around the same time you did. Now, some would consider getting a new older brother to be a good thing. Of course, when they point out what they see as an ideal image of that, Damian Wayne is more or less far from it. Truthfully, you'd need an entire documentary to explain that trauma. But, in his defense, he did warn Bruce not to make him a middle child. Oh well...

🦇🎞️ Word Count → 5.3k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

🦇 ENJOY 🎞️

— Some may imagine having Bruce Wayne as your father entails a glamorous and extravagant life.

— "Oh wow! Your dad is Bruce Wayne? That's so cool!" "I bet you've been to so many great places." "Have you met any celebrities before?" "Your life must be so interesting!"

— To answer that, depends on the day. The watchtower is cool, but not as interesting as what you saw on that one trip to Puerto Rico. Would Superman even be considered a celebrity? And, define interesting.

— Because if you mean 'interesting' like waking up every day wondering if it's going to be some random supervillain that unalives you, or your own brother, then yes, your life is fascinating.

— What most people don't consider when they find out your father is Bruce Wayne is not only did you all of a sudden get a new parent, but you also got new siblings. As your eldest brother Dick once said, "I went from being an only child to living in utter chaos every day." The only difference is that Dick actually somewhat thrives in chaos. Which is weird considering you'd think it'd be someone more like Jason who lived by that statement.

— You, on the other hand, would rather go without the constant weird shit that goes on with your father and siblings all being a bunch of vigilantes who save your city and the world from crazy clowns and guys who clearly like to live every day like it's Halloween.

— But, the thing is, 90% of the shit you have to deal with doesn't even come from those creeps and villains. It's literally from your own house, specifically one person.

— At one point in your life, you wished to have a sibling. Someone you could share that irreplaceable bond with. Fighting over small stuff like the remote, or who got first dibs on Alfred's cookies. Only to kiss and make up later when one of you got bored or hungry. Insulting and torturing each other only to join forces if someone outside of you two decided to mess with the other. Coming up with crazy schemes that would inevitably shorten your father's life expectancy.

— You know, normal stuff.

— You'd think Dick would get the title of 'most stable' among your siblings, but surprisingly, that was awarded to Jason, which, I know right?! Mind you, 'stable' was being used on very loose terms here. But, Richard was almost more like a second dad than a brother, which you figured came with the role of being the oldest sibling. Since he had the most experience dealing with an emotionally absent Bruce, he'd pick up where he fell off. Of course, Bruce got better over time and learned how to not distance himself whenever his feelings got even a little poked, but Richard was always your go-to whenever you needed support.

— You'd almost considered Jason for the title of most unstable, but then you met Tim, and realized Jason was actually better than you thought, considering what he's been through. Your second oldest brother wasn't really open towards you, but as you two started to spend time together, you grew on him and vice versa. At one point, the Red Hood persona vowed to not only do everything he could to keep you safe but as innocent and pure as you could be. He would not let Bruce and his questionable parenting ruin another child. His earlier methods were probably not the most effective. CPS was still calling at least once a week.

— There weren't enough words to describe Tim. When you first came to the mansion, he seemed completely normal and sane for the most part. Then, after you discovered your father's side hustle, you realized how opposite the reality was. You remembered something your mom said about the only things she was scared of. "I only fear two things in this life; God and the IRS." Well, you'd definitely be adding a certain Red Robin to that list. There were just things Tim would say or do that he thought was completely normal, and you'd be discreetly dialing a mental hospital, fearing for your safety. Why did you know the number for one off the top of your head? Let's just say you had your reasons. But, you'd rather have Tim as an ally than an enemy, so you refrained. That didn't stop you from keeping them on speed dial though.

— Yes, you definitely had some interesting siblings, but none of them compared to your other brother. The one you regrettably shared blood with. Hopefully, he didn't hear you say that.

— It was one thing to have Bruce Wayne as a father. It was an entirely different thing to have Damian Wayne for a brother.

— The first day you two met, Damian had already been at the manor for a few months when Talia had left him with Bruce while she went to handle business. What business that entailed, your father kept you in the shadows, and quite frankly, you were grateful. After your mom left you on the manor's doorsteps with a note that just read, "Trust me, he's yours," your life was never the same.

— You remembered being excited that day. You finally got to meet your dad, and you got a brother out of it too! Multiple brothers and sisters actually! Whoever was out there listening to you had answered your deepest wishes.

— Now, you wished they just minded their damn business.

— Unlike Damian, you were not aware of your father's secret identity. So, when you met, you were a little more than put off by Damian's first greeting towards you.

— "Father, I thought we discussed your habit of  picking up street rats and turning them into your next apprentice."

— Truthfully, that was actually more than a pleasant start to your relationship with the trained assassin. When you eventually heard the story of how Dick and Damian "met" for the first time, you suddenly felt grateful at the fact there were no sharp objects nearby...that you knew of.

— If you happened to start locking your bedroom door at night and setting booby traps to alert you if anyone came in while you were sleeping, that was no one else's business but yours.

— The thing was, you tried to connect with Damian, but he would keep brushing you off. Bruce really wasn't that much help as he didn't have the best track record with his first three kids.

— The issue was you and Damian came from two completely different backgrounds, despite your shared parenthood.

— Damian was raised among an organization of highly-trained assassins and was molded from the second he was born to take over from his grandfather who was the equivalent of an undead lich, only he was actually alive. You had a normal childhood for the most part. You went to school, made friends, tried different hobbies, etc.

— You saw Damian as uptight and weird, and he saw you as naive and weak.

— Of course, as everything does in this family, shit only got more intense.

— After Bruce ran a DNA test and confirmed you were indeed his son, they got you set up in the manor and your new life. Your last name was officially changed to Wayne with you wanting to keep your mother's surname hyphenated in there.

— You wanted to decorate your bedroom, so you asked your dad to take you shopping, fully intending to take advantage of your newfound wealth (your mother taught you well). Bruce figured it'd be a great way for you and him to get to know each other as he was trying to be more of the supportive dad that Dick and Jason lectured him about. And if CPS decided to give him another one of their 'visits,' he'd rather not provide them with any more reasons to be taking down notes. He was still trying to find a way to punish Jason for that stunt.

— And at Alfred's suggestion, he brought Damian along, thinking it'd be great family time for the Wayne men, and it'd give his firstborn a chance at being an actual kid since Damian never decorated his room when he first got there.

— You went all out. At some point, Bruce wondered if everything he was buying was starting to become too much, but you threw him the puppy dog look you mastered at three years old, and he folded like a lawn chair. Your mother had grown resistant to that trick so, it was great to finally be using it again. Posters, knick-knacks, a new desk, a whole gaming set-up, LED lights, a gaming chair, you name it, you got it. You'd even tried to get Damian to get a few things for himself, wanting to get to know more about your brother.

— "I don't need materialistic objects to satisfy myself like you and other low-lives do. Besides, you're only doing this to 'make up' for the more than likely poor life you lived before with whoever your harlot mother is."

— Alright, that did it. You tackled Damian in the middle of the mall, throwing all your weight on top of him. Of course, you were unaware of his combat training so he threw you off pretty easily, pushing you to the ground and twisting your arm behind your back to where he almost broke it. Bruce had to yank him off you and grab you as well to prevent you from charging him again while everyone else around was taking pictures and videos.

— Bruce's PR team was not happy with the stories and articles on the gossip websites the next morning. But, they managed to twist it around into a positive light, painting the Billionaire Playboy as the role model male, doing his best to raise his two boys as best he could being a single father.

— "Oh, he's such a family man. #EvenMoreAttactive". – @Supermom92

— "He's a good man, Vanessa. A good man." - @mooreswhore

— "This is what we need more of. Strong men taking charge in their son's lives." – @topalpha

— "#GladTheyAin'tMyKids." – @aynonymous

— Of course, this did nothing to help the relationship between you and the youngest Boy Wonder, but Alfred's reassurance eased Bruce's headache.

— "Truthfully, Master Wayne, it would seem to me they are already falling quite well into their new roles as brothers. It will get better over time."

— When exactly was better? Because things only seemed to get more tense between you two. The fights didn't end there. As you spent more time in the manor, you'd gotten to know your other adoptive siblings. And particularly, spending time with your second oldest brother, you'd learned some defensive moves in fighting that only led to your fights with Damian getting worse now that you could hold your own a little more.

— Only there were some moves that you knew that Damian didn't, which really caused a shit storm.

— It may have taken Dick and Jason's combined strength to hold Damian back from trying to literally slice your throat open after you introduced him to the art of the cheese neck. Jason thought it was hilarious and low-key well deserved since your half-brother decided to cut open one of the stuffed bears you had since you were four. Alfred was able to put him back together, but that didn't help the need for revenge you had in the pit of your stomach.

— Since he couldn't murder you, he decided to go with the next best thing he had in mind; mental torture!

— He knew you loved Scooby-Doo, but had a slight fear of some of the monsters and scenes from the show. Look, shit from back in the 70s could be creepy with how they decided to do specific stuff. And sadly on your part, Damian had amazing resources thanks to dear old Papa Bruce.

— So, one day when you thought Bruce was on a business trip (he was on a League mission, and Dick, Jason, and Tim were nowhere to be found along with Alfred), you had the manor to yourself. Or, at least, you thought you did. 

— Let's just say Damian decided to place you in your own Scooby-Doo episode, only a tad bit more rated R. Last time you checked, the vampire from that one episode didn't actually have blood and guts dripping from his teeth while chasing Shaggy and Scooby.

— Yeah, Bruce low-key had to invest in a therapist for that one. And CPS definitely took a note down when they saw part of the costume had fallen out of a trash bag and your "concerning" reaction to it. Damian had no shame.

— "Next time, he'll think twice about whose neck he's slapping."

— "Master Bruce, I really do think they're starting to grow on each other, if I do say so myself." This time, Alfred's words were not reassuring for the billionaire.

— Eventually, you and Damian came to a mutual understanding. You stay out of his way, and he would stay out of your way. And it worked! At least until you found out the big secret, and no not the one where Tim...actually, never mind.

— It was an accident, really it was. At least that's how Jason and Tim tried to spin it when he had to explain to Bruce how you thought Red Hood and Red Robin broke into the manor. In truth, they thought you were at a friend's house studying, and the tracker that was stitched to your backpack showed that.

— Hold up... tracker?

— You'd grill them and your dad for that later.

— Now, you were constantly in the Batcave and working Damian's last nerve. You kept asking to help on missions or patrol, and shockingly, this was the one time when Bruce put his foot down and said no to having an adolescent child fighting crime with him.

— Who would've figured?

— The most he'd let you do was help Alfred with comms and computer stuff. Of course, that'd only lead to you and Damian getting into one of your brotherly spats over the comms.

— "At least I have competent training to be in the field. You can barely defend yourself against a cat." Damian sneered into his mic while roundhouse-kicking a thug.

— "First of all you stuck-up brat, Alfred the Cat and I have a lovely relationship and we were play fighting. Secondly, the only thing you're competent at is proving what happens when you forget to use protection!" You quipped right back.

— Dick and Tim tried holding back their laughs while Jason just shouted "DAMN!" Bruce had to pretend not to notice Damian's glare through the domino mask and Alfred pretended to scold you while giving you a fist bump. The Boy Wonder was grinding his teeth.

— Then, a miracle happened. Well, really it was a traumatic experience that Bruce would have to pay for more sessions with your therapist but still was a miracle in the end.

— In another one of his crazy schemes, Joker decided to target Bruce Wayne again, but this time, the newly discovered heirs to Wayne Enterprises, at least, that's what the media was referring to you as.

— He hired some goons to abduct you and Damian from your school and hid you both in one of his many secret hideouts around Gotham. And Joker, never one for subtlety, of course, decided to send out a televised message to Brucie Poosie, a name disturbingly similar to Joker's nickname for Batman. He'd addressed that later.

— Your father and siblings immediately jumped into action of course and started searching the entire city, checking all of Joker's known hideouts and connections. Only, Joker had apparently taken some inspiration and notes from Riddler because while he was busy taunting and trying to shake down Bruce Wayne for everything he could, he was leading Batman and his little birdies (his nickname for all the Robins) on a wild goose chase.

— The more and more time went by, the more and more they got worried for you. Of course, they were worried for Damian as well, but he was used to these kinds of situations. This was your first (and frankly, probably not last) kidnapping.

— At first, you weren't scared (much). No offense, but, Joker always kind of seemed like a joke to you. The fact his whole persona was based on a mad clown really didn't help. You had also never really watched the news or heard people talking about some of the horrible things he had done. You always just heard the part when Batman swooped in and kicked his ass.

— Well, if you made it out of this, you'd definitely have nightmares and a new fear of clowns to add to your list. May have to start considering two-hour sessions with your therapist.

— But, to your surprise, Damian had helped to keep you calm and protected you from seeing more of Joker's 'fun side'. Whenever the clown or one of his thugs got a little too close to your holding cell for your brother's liking, he always placed himself in front of you, just in case they decided to fuck around and find out so he could be ready.

— When the green-haired villain went on one of his disturbing tangents or talked about his plans for you two in case your father didn't follow through with his demands, Damian would cover your ears. Of course, it didn't do much, but the sentiment was appreciated. Your older brother, despite his 'quirks', actually did have a caring side to him. It just took being kidnapped by a psychotic clown and your lives being in terrible danger for it to show. Go figure.

— Of course, your father and siblings eventually tracked you and Damian down and came to your rescue. From what you had seen from your father and brothers in their fighting style, they always were more smart and sneaky with their attacks and ambushes. Jason was more of the impulsive and brash one who liked to rush in, but he grew more into the Bat's style over time. Especially seeing how the last time he rushed into something concerning the Joker, well, there's no need to go down that road.

— But, nope. This time, Bruce was not forgiving with his 'justice' towards Joker. Honestly, you and your siblings were a little worried that Bruce would break his number one rule on no killing for the first time, but he still held back. In the middle of all the chaos, you'd even managed to surprise Damian when some goons tried to surprise you and him after he broke you guys out of the cell. And who said video games couldn't teach you a thing or two about fighting?

— Damian was impressed, and more than curious to see what kind of games you were playing that taught you the fastest way to incapacitate a 200-pound man with a few jabs and well-placed strikes. That or you were insanely lucky to have a man who could barely defend himself against a child. Either way, a win was a win for you.

— Obviously, things changed a bit when you two returned home. 

— For one, your family became a lot more clingy and overprotective than before. And that was saying something considering they had a tracker stitched into your backpack without your knowledge before. There was a rotation between the brothers of who would drop off and pick you up from school. This was already a rule before, but now, it was just even more intense with you not being able to leave the manor or go anywhere without someone from the family accompanying you. Bruce started training you in self-defense and combat, with regulations and supervision from your brothers so he didn't make the same mistakes he made with them with you.

— You appreciated it all, and it definitely did help you feel a bit safer (in the beginning), but, really one of the most shocking changes not just to yourself, but everyone else was Damian's change in attitude toward you. Of course, he wasn't outright hugging you or anything crazy like that, but he was more cordial and almost friendlier you could say.

— It was also very apparent Damian had developed a similar protective stance toward you. You being the only non-vigilante in the family meant you kept an aura of innocence and light-heartedness the rest of your family had lost a long time ago. They were more than determined to make sure you kept that light and never lost it like they did so many years ago.

— Thankfully, your time with Joker wasn't anything too traumatic. Joker was actually on one of his schemes for once and didn't do anything too drastic. But, that didn't stop your brother from glaring down any suspicious figure who got too close to you for his liking. If you asked to hang out at a friend's house, Damian took over Bruce's role of asking for details on your friend, they're parents, where you'd be going, and all that extra stuff. If you were aware of the fact that Damian was running full background checks on your friends and their families whenever you went to hang out with them, you pretended not to notice.

– Bruce also had a teary moment of being a proud father seeing how Damian was showing already to be just like him. Which, if we're being honest, was actually a terrifying thought.

— But, it wasn't just Damian who started making an effort to build a more friendly bond between you two. You'd contributed as well. Showing Damian the ways he could learn to let loose and actually be a kid instead of a trained assassin all the time.

— You'd invited him more than once to hang out with you and your friends that you made from school. Hesitant at first at the idea of hanging out with others that weren't you and his family, you managed to convince him when Dick, Jason, and Tim got into one of their own brotherly spats, and Jason decided to start chasing the two around the house with a rag wet with a 'mysterious' substance.

— "Your local comrades quarters it is then." Damian muttered before quickly ushering you out the door with Alfred towing behind since you needed someone to drive you. Damian offered since he kept claiming he knew how, but Bruce still wasn't going for it.

— With your help, Damian actually learned to make friends with kids his own age. He developed hobbies and interests that had nothing to do with anything sharp or pointy (that didn't mean you weren't gonna booby trap your room still just in case).

— He even joined an art club at school and you both decided to enroll in a martial arts club together as well. It'd actually become quite the inside joke between you two. There was one guy in there, Carter, who swore he was the best fighter in the entire school and he could take any one of these 'runts' down, including you and Damian.

— Now, you were still learning and getting comfortable fighting from your lessons with your dad and brothers. When Carter decided to pick on you and Damian as the Wayne brats and challenged you both to a sparring match, boy he did not know what he was getting himself into. Especially when you and your brother looked at each other with the most mischievous evil smirks anyone had ever seen.

— When Bruce got a call from the school later that some parents were looking to try and sue him for the 'extensive harm' his kids did to their kid, he could only raise an eyebrow when you and Damian appeared in his office, smiling like you both were innocent angels.

— "See, Master Bruce. I told you if you'd given it some time, they'd grow on each other." Alfred said to him later that evening.

— Only Bruce was now more concerned than ever. When you and Damian basically hated each other, he only had to worry about the terror and havoc you two would unleash inside the manor. Now, that you were basically best buddies, he'd have to worry about inside and outside the house.

— "I'm gonna be meeting with my lawyers more frequently, aren't I Alfred?" Bruce asked.

— Alfred gave a small chuckle as he patted the man's shoulders. "Oh, Master Bruce, most certainly."

— The butler wasn't wrong.

— You and Damian became like a force that everyone was scared to cross. Even your own brothers were slightly afraid of the kind of shit you two could get into. You'd come up with the crazy schemes and ideas, mapping out any and all details while handling any technological stuff which you had gotten really good at considering the time you spent with Alfred in the Batcave monitoring missions. And, Damian would do the more physical acts required as well as sneaking and sleuthing around if need be.

— Bruce had a meeting with his attorneys at least once a week because of you two.

— You'd even developed your own sense of overprotectiveness over your older brother. Some guy in the art club Damian had joined at school decided to try and pick with him and messed up one of his paintings. Surprisingly, Damian was calm about it and didn't even yell or react at him. Just scoffed at the guy and called him pathetic.

— You did not have a similar reaction.

— When word got around the school and managed to reach your ears, you were for lack of a better word, feeling quite revengeful. The next day at school, that guy became the laughingstock of your entire class when a private photo mysteriously made its way into every student's locker in your grade.

— When Damian found out, he immediately confronted you about it, and you could only smile innocently while feigning ignorance.

— "Why, brother?! How could you even think to accuse me of such a vile act of one's breach of privacy."

— "Y/N..." Damian said.

— "Fine, it was me. But, you have to admit, it is quite a lovely picture. And besides, nobody messes with my brother except me." You smiled.

— Damian only gave a small smile, grabbing you to give you a noogie on the head before walking for the exit of the school to head home. He tried not to let such a small statement get him overly emotional since he'd never really had anyone before you and your family be so caring and defensive over him. Not even his mother. 

— The older you two got, the more close you became. At one point, Dick even started to joke that if one of you had gotten involved in some stupid and even dangerous plot, it wouldn't be long before the other got involved as well.

— "You'd even given yourself the nickname of the Blood Brothers since you and Damian liked to remind your other siblings more than once who Bruce's actual kin was, especially Dick whenever he went on one of his tirades about being the first Robin blah blah blah...

— Tim did happen to point out your chosen name's disturbing similarity to one widely known supervillain to which you scoffed in response.

— "Oh please, Brother Blood wishes he had half the brains and looks me and Dami have. Isn't that right, bro?" You said turning to Damian holding out a fist bump.

— "I refuse to get involved in this."

— And given your bond with each other, it was of course all too expected that you would each get involved in each other's love lives. When Damian was sent away to Titans Tower to learn how to be part of a team, you were very pissed at Bruce since he was breaking up you and his team.

— Honestly, Bruce hadn't even considered that, but he was happy and looking forward to the much-needed break from his weekly meetings with his lawyers concerning his sons and their growing stack of attempted lawsuits.

— It was a shock to not only you but to Damian from how you knew when he returned from the tower on a visit, and you asked "Who is she," with your arms crossed and tapping your foot against the ground.

— From your daily calls and messages, you'd picked up quite fast that Damian was crushing on someone, you just didn't know who. You figured it may have been that Tara girl you heard had joined the team, who should consider herself lucky she succumbed to her own fate and not the one you'd planned for her after finding out what she did to your brother and his comrades.

— Superman and Wonder Woman were still campaigning to put you on the League's high-priority watch list after hearing and witnessing some of the things you got up to with and without your brother. So they and everyone else in the League who had the fortune (or misfortune) of meeting you had no qualms that whatever you planned for the blonde earth-powered girl, was nothing short of maniacal.

— When you found out it was Raven after your dad brought you along to Damian's surprise party at the Tower with the rest of the team, you managed to get a chance alone with the half-human, half-demon girl, exchanging some friendly banter and humor. You'd also jokingly (but also not jokingly) warned her that if she hurt your brother in any way shape or form, you'd give her a fate worse than anything her father could ever imagine.

— Weirdly enough, she smiled and gave you a pat on the shoulder.

— "I promise, you don't have to worry about anything from me. And, I can see now why he cares a lot about you. You both protect each other."

— To which you replied with a simple, "He's my brother." Nothing else needed to be said between the two of you. You both were aware of Damian's past, you more than Raven of course, so you knew Damian sometimes needed some extra care and love. You could clearly see that was something she had every intention of making sure he got.

— You approved.

— Now, if only you could get Damian to approve of you and Conner.

— Let's just say, neither your father nor your brothers were anywhere near please when they found out about you and the half-Kryptonian's relationship.

— Dick just couldn't fathom that both of his baby brothers were dating someone from the two teams he helped co-found.

— Jason didn't like that you were dating someone he couldn't really intimidate or threaten the way he wanted since the dude was a literal teen Superman.

— Tim was oddly okay with it at first. But, when you started abandoning him and your regular scheduled gaming sessions for your dates and hangouts with Conner, he was more than ever determined to take down the half-Kryptonian.

— Damian didn't like the idea of you with someone so much stronger than you and could hurt you very easily. To which you pointed out he was dating a half-demon whose father has more than once tried to take over the universe and she almost helped him in succeeding.

— "Not the point, little brother."

— You did have to warn your boyfriend though, because, unlike your other brothers with the exception of possibly Tim, Damian had his own hidden secret cache of Kryptonite for emergency if it was ever needed.

— How you knew?

— Well, after you and Conner announced your relationship, you noticed your father and brother consistently making trips to the vault where all the Kryptonite was stored. And, you once caught your dad making a smaller version of the 'special' jewelry he used to fight Superman that one time, which you figured had to be for Damian.

— "Oh come on! I don't see anyone walking around with crosses and holy water whenever Damian goes out with Raven. But, y'all are ready to pull out all the stops whenever Conner and I even look like we're about to hug!" You yelled at your family.

— Damian stepped forward, placing what was supposed to be a comforting hand on your shoulder.

— "I do apologize brother. But, you should really be blaming Father for this, since I did technically warn him what would happen if he made me a middle child.

— "He did." You heard your father's day from behind.

— Someone really needed to make a documentary about your life.

BONUS:

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

#solar-wing ☀️ #☀️🪽.fanfic #☀️🪽.dcposts #☀️🪽.hcs #☀️🪽.txt #dc #dcu #dcau #dcamu #dc comics #dc imagine #dc universe #dc x reader #dc x male reader #x reader #x male reader #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #alfred pennyworth #conner kent #conner kent x reader #conner kent x male reader #batfamily #batfam x reader #batfam x male reader

[little-worm-grant]

Jake's pov: Uncomplicated

Jake Lockley x You (Fem!Reader)

2,400 words / 18+ only, no minors

Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: Deep down you knew Jake wouldn’t be calling if he didn’t think he needed you. Or maybe that’s what you told yourself to make it more tolerable to be out of your warm bed at this hour.

Warnings: No smut, reader tending to Jake's injuries.

Notes: Couldn't get this gif out of my head, so I wrote something inspired by it. Don't ask me what this nonsense is. It's Jake being Jake.

A phone call woke you up. Come pick him up, he’d said. Knowing exactly which asshole would be calling you to ask that. Very little else could be said before the line was ended. A second later, the location buzzed for you to follow.

You could have said no. Should have told him to fuck off calling you at this time. Sometimes you thought he did it on purpose, just to press your buttons. Deep down you knew Jake wouldn’t be calling if he didn’t think he needed you. Or maybe that’s what you told yourself to make it more tolerable to be out of your warm bed at this hour.

So you went.

You threw on a few layers and left to go pick him up. Silently cursing him all the while. Nights were cold and you weren’t functioning on enough hours of sleep to be doing this shit. At least it wasn’t all the time, but still. You’d prefer he called you at a reasonable hour. Jake didn’t seem to know what reasonable meant.

Ended up in some industrial area. Stopping to recheck the location on your phone. Didn’t seem like the right place. Movement caught your eyes. You look back up to find him staggering in his walk towards you. A sombrero on his head. The black bomber jacket open gave him little protection. No buttoned shirt, leaving his chest bare and exposed to the elements. Hand bandaged and bloody. He looked beat up or drunk, more likely both. All in all, he looked rather pleased with himself getting into your car.

Ducking his head to not lose the hat. He stunk of beer and cigarettes. You wrinkled your nose as it invaded your senses the closer he got. Waiting for him to shut the door. Didn’t bother to ask him to put his seatbelt on. More stubborn than a damn toddler, this one. It’d be his own fault if he bonked his head. Might finally knock some sense into him.

You pull away from the warehouse to drive him back home. Taking one last glance to see if you could spot anything out of the ordinary about of the place. Any clue as to why Jake came out looking the way that he did. Definitely a story there. Jake was already messing with the radio, getting the station he loved on. You turn it down to talk.

“Had a good night?”

He hummed at first, before saying, “Si señora.”

“What’s the emergency?”

“Sin emergencia. I needed a lift and I got one.”

Jake carefully plucked a bent hand-rolled cigarette out from his pocket. Straightening it between his fingers shaken fingers before catching it in his lips and searching for the lighter. Noticed the way he only used three fingers on his left hand. The other two wrapped haphazardly. Electrical tape somehow holding it together. His face cut up but no longer bleeding. A line of dirt and blood streaked down from the bridge of his nose.

“It was a party then?”

You didn’t even try to sound like you were convinced. Jake chuckled and blew out a plume of smoke. Shifting to open his window a crack.

“You could say that.”

Your hands shift on the steering wheel. Annoyed by that. You’d dealt with it with one being all cagey and now you had to deal with another. You wished they’d be more like Steven sometimes. Honest. Open. Not so headstrong and stubborn. Still though, they were equally as beautiful and handsome in their own ways, the bastards.

“I could ignore your call next time. Or stop the car right now and kick you out.” You threaten. “Start talking.”

“And risk your precious boys? Or you gonna make me beg again? Tu cabeza está en la luna.”

“They wouldn’t be this stupid.”

“Ha! You sure about that, chica?” Jake laughed to himself, “Steven cries in the shower if he thinks too long about sea turtles.”

You roll your eyes but he continues, “Marc threatened to throw Steven off a cliff for kissing you. Not so smart, your boys.”

“You’re one of them.” You bite back.

That seemed to give him pause. Another exhale of smoke as he regarded you more closely. You kept your focus on the quieter dark roads, seeing him in your peripheral was enough to put you on edge under his scrutinizing gaze. Passing under lights illuminated that stare. Like he’d make a meal out of you if he could.

You eventually break the silence between you two.

“So what’s with the hat?”

“Lost my hat. Needed a new one.”

“And your shirt?”

“Ah, that too. Needed it for my hand. Couldn’t find a new one of those.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing your nose needs to know.”

“It does if I’m going to patch you up.”

“You once told me to kill them with kindness. But I found their gun instead. That’s all.”

You sigh. Loudly.

“What the fuck am I going to do with you?”

“Anything you fucking want, mi mariquita.” He met your same tone with a rueful smile. Flicking the end of his cigarette outside.

You noticed how he’d gotten ash all over the glass and in the car. Another thing you can be annoyed about, later, once he’d sobered up. Right now you weren’t speaking to him or entertaining his flirtations.

You pulled through one of the drive-thru’s you knew would still be open at this hour. Tossing a couple of burgers over to Jake. His happy noise directed more at the burgers than at you. It was either he eat now or he’d be rampaging through the kitchen once he got home. You'd be hearing all about it from Steven the next day. Wanted to save the other from the hassle.

“You’re too kind. Maybe I should be nicer to you.” He said through a mouthful. Head bouncing along to the tune of the radio. Some sort of happy little dance while he ate. Never could resist bouncing a leg or his head to something in particular he liked.

“Yeah, yeah. Saying and doing are two separate things.” You half smile, glancing to him before heading home. He was still stuffing the last of his burger into his mouth by the time you parked up on the streets outside his apartment. Jake rubbed his hands on his pants, angling the one hand carefully to avoid snagging his makeshift bandage.

“And this where I kiss you goodnight? I enjoyed our little ride. Shame it couldn’t be longer.”

“No, idiot, this is where we go up together and get you cleaned up.”

“Didn’t think you were serious. Do I have to say please?”

“Only if you know what’s good for you.”

He laughed and you left the car to go to his apartment. Jake sauntered up behind you. Hands into his jacket pockets. Curled in on himself like an animal ready to pounce. You folded your arms and gave him a look in the elevator as he pushed for his floor and then proceeded to push the buttons for every other floor after.

To his credit, he didn’t pounce on you. Kept some distance. Leaned his back against the elevator wall. Some of that smugness gone and he did look like he was in some discomfort. His good hand readjusted the sombrero when he caught you looking. His hands patted down his other pockets and began to pull a gun out.

“Oh, there’s the bad man’s~”

“Jake!” You bark, hand snapping to his wrist to stuff the weapon back into his pocket. No cameras or people around but he had evidence on him you’d really rather he didn’t.

“Why do you still have that? I swear to god.”

“Don’t bother, most of them are assholes.” A sharpness in his tone he didn’t have before. He smiled hazily. “They abandoned us long ago.”

“Starting to sound like Marc.” You roll your eyes.

“Nah. He still believes. Little by little. More every day now that you’re around. He lingers about when Steven practices.”

“And why don’t you?”

“Why would I? Only one I’d want to pray to is you.”

That shut you up and gave you pause. You’d fallen for that one. Jake snickering let you know he knew it too. He was being an ass again.

The elevator stopped clunkily to his floor and he led the way. You go to reach out to stop him from bouncing off someone’s door but Jake’s able to catch his own unsteady balance. Making it to his own door, somehow. He lets you both in.

“Mi casa es su casa.” He waves his good hand lazily.

You nudge your hand into his back to push him towards the bathroom.

“You see Steven got Marc a fish? I didn’t get a fish.”

“You’d probably eat it.”

He laughed. A real deep wheeze from the chest.

“That’s exactly what I said when Steven brought up the idea. Got banned from going near them. I like the fishes. I have no beef with them.”

“Would you want a fish?”

A pause. “Nah. That’s their thing. Not mine. They won't let me decorate unless it's some more dorky nerd shit.”

While you both talked. You’d gotten Jake on the edge of the tub with his bandaged hand over the sink. Peeling away the electrical tape slowly. Jake winced.

“Sorry.” You say. He shakes his head but doesn’t respond.

Unwrapping the torn shirt from his fingers you see there’s darker blood and a nice gash at the palm. Dirtied and mangled. You turn on the cold tap and take his hand under the water. Flushing out dirt and dried blood. Stretching out the fingers to manipulate and feel for any breaks or damage to the nerves. Moving your fingers away to see if he could move them himself.

If it’s not Jake getting battered it was one of the others some other way. Steven while cooking or Marc when he got too rough playfighting with you. You use the bottle of disinfectant he kept out. To the sting, Jake growls like you were testing his patience, a scowl setting on his face.

“Quit being a baby. I need to clean it.” You protest back at him. Tossing him a scowl of your own. You could've been nice and warm in your own bed right now, not dealing with his bullshit. “You and your dumb hat.”

“My sombrero isn’t dumb. You take that back.”

“No.”

“Always so mean to me, princesa. Keep that up and I might just fall in love with you.” A playful pout you’d love to just kiss off his stupid face. He only ever used love like a threat, so you didn’t take it to heart.

You ignore him again. Pulling the medical kit out you used what little counter space you had, you open it up and pull out the supplies you’re going to need. Threading up the needle, Jake kept his bleeding hand still over the sink while he watched you. Wasn’t the first time you’d patched him up, knew it wouldn’t be the last either.

“Why were you out again? You don’t need to do that anymore.” You finally ask. Jake made a reluctant noise in his throat.

“I do. It was for a friend.”

“Who?”

“Does it matter? They needed me to do a thing and I did the thing.”

“You don’t have to do everything someone asks.”

“No. But I want to. Makes me… useful. The world doesn’t stop spinning just because we do.”

Jake doesn’t look away when you begin stitching him up. Didn’t take many stitches. Soon you were wrapping it in a cleaner bandage. Letting him pull his hand away to inspect the wrapping.

“Stay tonight.” He says. Not asking. You shake your head.

“You’re still drunk. No.”

“I’ll take the couch. You can have your way with his pillow.”

That caused you to scoff and go to leave. His good hand reached to catch yours. Tugging you, guiding between his thighs to enclose them around your legs. In retaliation, you smack the hat off his head, it hits against his back, the string around it going up against his neck. His chin pressed up against you as he looked up at you. A different look in his face this time, making you pause. One unlike any you’ve seen before. No. That’s not right. You’ve seen this look before, on the others, sure, but not on him. You steady yourself against him. His voice dropped an octave lower.

“I don’t want to be by myself tonight. Please?”

“Well be nice then.”

That stupid smile was back.

“I can’t promise that.”

“I’ll think about it. Stay still.”

You go for a cotton swab and dowse it in disinfectant. Wiping at the injuries on his face. Checking over the forming bruises. Fingers checking his nose wasn’t too fucked. Another noise of a groan from Jake. The cut on it wasn’t too bad once it was cleaned. You placed a plaster over his nose for good measure. He smiled lazily up at you. Arm wrapping around your waist to hold you.

“Did you think of your answer yet?”

“Yeah. I decided you’re getting the bed and I’m getting the couch. You need your rest.”

“No, no, no. No. That’s not how this works, chica. I get the couch. You get the bed.”

“I’ll just go home then.”

“Ayúdame. Anyone ever told you you’re so stubborn?”

“Anyone ever told that to you? Also, get rid of the gun. Don't let the others find it.”

He chuckled and shifted his head to press his cheek against you. Taking in a long unsteady inhale. Probably thinking of ways he could get his cake and eat it too. To your surprise, he relents.

“If it gets you to stay, I‘ll take the bed.” You feel him playfully bite into your side, hard enough to hurt. Causing you to make a noise and squirm away, smacking at his good shoulder. A pained laugh comes out from Jake.

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you love me.”

You didn’t have anything to say back to that. Damn him.

Come morning, you’d wake up to Steven complaining how sore he felt all over. How he’d found a gun inside his fish tank. Also, why were you wearing a sombrero? What on earth happened last night?

Only the fishes would say.

#jake lockey #moon knight #oscar isaac #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x reader #soft!jake #moon knight fanfiction #jakes pov #open starter #open rp #soft jake lockley

[iamjacksragingboner]

Thinking about much too overbearing Soap again.

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: Light NSFW, no smut, slightly obsessive Soap, very much not proofread

A/N: Not too sure what this is, I haven't actually written anything in a while so this is just me getting back into it. Let me know if you have any ideas for where else this could go, but at the moment this is kinda just a standalone thing.

Part Two

Johnny is on military leave for whatever reason, and he needs some sort of purpose to fill his endless days with nothing to do. Hence, he practically lunges at the opportunity to help his pretty neighbour when he’s brought out of his apartment by the sound of metallic clanging on the door next to his.

Peeking his head out, he sees you struggling through the heavy door whilst trying, in vain really, to keep your foot off the ground with some too-tall crutches. What goes through his head in a millionth of a second can only really be described as misplaced eagerness to take care of you. Sure, he wants to help out and make sure you’re alright, to hover around you and fulfil your every waking need and desire while you heal, but he has his own rather dubious desires as well that he’d like to take care of. Fantasies—with you as the main focal point—that he’s spent plenty an evening fucking his fist imagining.

He’s by your side in a heartbeat, pushing the door open for you and grabbing the bag off your shoulder. “Here ye are, lass. Let me help ye with that- that’s it.”

As you breathe out way too many thank you’s and apologies that he insists aren’t necessary, he follows you into your apartment. Despite sharing many a hallway and elevator conversation, neither of you have ever set foot into each other’s apartments, keeping up that firm wall between friendly neighbours and friends.

Of course, that doesn’t mean Johnny hasn’t imagined what the inside of your apartment would look like, or what you fill your days and nights with. It’s cozy—lived-in would be a better term for it—dishes in the sink, a lumpy couch next to the window with a rather colourful and fuck ugly quilt strewn atop it. Your bed, much like his, was unmade, and there was a pile of unfolded clothes accumulating at the end of it. It was definitely a great deal more welcoming than his own sterile, almost untouched apartment.

"Sorry about the mess in here, it's just that with this broken foot, I haven't really been able to keep up with shit like cooking, and cleaning, and laundry, and groceries," you stopped to catch your breath. It sounded like the list could go on for a while, though Johnny had gathered that from the state of your apartment anyway. "Just set my bag down anywhere," you said finally, hobbling into the cluttered kitchen, "I'll get you a cup of tea or something."

Setting your bag down on the kitchen counter with a thud, Johnny stares at you with furrowed brows. “Weesht, ye’ll do nothin’ of the sort, bonnie. What ye will be doin’ is sitting yer behind on that couch and proppin’ that foot up- must be mighty painful."

Before you'd even had time to think about protesting, Johnny had already swiftly guided you to the couch and positioned you lengthways, with your foot idle on the armrest.

You were speechless for a grand total of three seconds before you were getting up to stop Johnny from digging through your pantry looking for teabags. “Really, Johnny, it’s no bother,” you exclaimed, hobbling over on your crutches and stepping between him and the pantry to dig out the teabags. “Let me put the kettle on to boil and I’ll wash up a mug for you in the meantime. You go and sit on the couch.”

How you ended up back on the couch with Johnny now washing all of your dishes with an unexplainable amount of enthusiasm evades you. Hell, he’d even managed to tuck you in, and was rambling on and on to himself as he scrubbed at a bit of muck in your bowl.

“I mean really, it’s no trouble at all. Ye just sit there and look like a proper bonnie lass and let me take care of a couple things around yer place. Clearly you need the help. Ye’ll pay me back eventually ‘m sure.”

Only once Johnny had washed and dried all of your dirty dishes, put your dirty laundry in the machine to wash and made you and himself a cup of tea did he sit down beside you on the couch, propping your feet on his lap as if you were much closer friends than you were.

"I don't know how to thank you, Johnny, really. You didn't have to go to all that effort- I would've sorted it out eventually."

Johnny merely laughs, it's a barking, hoarse sound that grates your ears but warms your chest all the same. "Aye, but isn't it much easier if I sort it out for ye now, as opposed to yer 'eventually?"

You supposed that made sense, and it wasn't exactly unpleasant to have a handsome, built and cheery Scottish man flitting around your apartment, helping where he could. Still, you could have done it yourself.

Lying in bed that night, there was little time to sleep for Johnny when he was much too busy thinking about you, the poor bonnie lass. With his ear pressed against the wall, listening to your faint movements, he fucked his fist in desperation, thinking about all he could do to take care of you.

Within twelve hours, Soap is back, bright eyed and bushy tailed, carrying in several bags of groceries, meals planned down to the crumb for the next three weeks. The second he's put them in the fridge, he's darting to fold your laundry as you hobble around him. He bats your hands away when you reach to fold your underwear yourself, face flushed red with embarrassment as he pulls out one of your nicer bras.

Within a week, he's already made a copy of the key to your apartment, although that's not something you need to know about. He'll only ever use it if he's sure you've injured yourself and can't get to the door, or if you're out and he wants to roll around in your bed, bathing in your scent and leaving his own.

You do happen to take a fall one day, although luckily he's there to catch you, as he's been hovering around you like a fly any time you try to get up. He makes the decision then to stay the night, in case you want to make any trips to the bathroom and take a tumble in the dark.

When you offer him your bed to sleep in, he happily accepts, but the minute you begin to turn your couch into a makeshift bed for yourself, the face he pulls is not too far from a kicked puppy. He was, of course, under the impression that he'd be sharing your single bed with you, and you can't blame a man for being a little disappointed when he finds out that's not the case.

"Come on, bonnie," he all but pleads, "we don't want ye hurtin' yer foot layin' on that lumpy old thing. There's enough room for the two of us in yer bed, don't ye think?"

Despite being a little put off by Johnny calling your beloved couch old and lumpy (worn and well loved, you would say), you relent, and decide to share the bed with Johnny, under strict rules of course. "Don't try and cuddle me, don't get all up in my business, don't steal the blankets and above all else, don't touch anywhere you shouldn't be touching."

Johnny responds enthusiastically—which should've been a warning in itself that he hadn't heard a word you said—and practically leaps into the bed, patting the spot next to him with a dog-like grin.

You climb in a little hesitantly and settle down to sleep, under the impression that Johnny will obey these simple rules. The minute you feel a heavy arm slump over your waist and an even heavier leg hanging limp over your own, essentially trapping you against his form, do you realise that he had not, in fact, ever intended to follow your rules. The little grunting snores he would let out gave you some reassurance that he at least wasn't doing this consciously, even as his hands found their way across your chest and down your torso, even as his lips that were pressed against your shoulder stretched into a canine grin.

#soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #john mactavish #johnny mactavish

[misteria247]

Turtles Forever scenario:

12 Raph is known to be a swearer. Guy swears like a sailor if he's given a chance to. Due to this he's often got 12 Leo (aka The Mom) on his case quite a bit about it. Especially when they're thrown in with the Rise gang (one look at Rise Mikey and 12 Leo cracked down hard on the no swearing thing). However 12 Raph has a somewhat difficult time not swearing, he's not like 12 Donnie who's known for getting by with his swearing habits or Rise Donnie who swears out of his little brother's ear shot. So 12 Leo and 12 Raph come up with a compromise of sorts.

12 Raph can swear but only in Japanese and not in front of the younger turtles, since no one other than the 12 boys know the language.

So he picks up the habit of swearing in Japanese saying the nastiest things imaginable and it works out rather well. So 12 Raph keeps the habit and it's a natural response at this point so much so that he forgets about the possibility of others in the different versions of themselves and their masters might know what he's saying.

It's just an out of the blue thing when it happens. 12 Raph stubs his toe on something and without even hesitating he straight up yells in Japanese:

"MOTHER FUCKING TITS."

Completely lost in his moment of pain when he hears a cup shattering on the floor behind him. 12 Raph snaps his head up completely spooked by the sudden noise and his pain forgotten only to make eye contact with 03 Splinter who's just staring at him in shock. And it hits 12 Raph that 03 Splinter was the pet of Hamato Yoshi, who lived in Japan before moving to New York.

Which meant 03 Splinter knows Japanese.

They have a small stare down of sorts, 12 Raph just frozen deer in headlights sweating like a sinner in church while 03 Splinter just stares at him. The rat recovers and takes a deep breath before saying calmly back in Japanese:

"I would reprimand you for the use of such language however, dealing with my own son I know for a fact that it will not work. So I will only ask that you watch your mouth."

And 12 Raph pale as a ghost because he's just barely escaped the devil himself at this point just responds with a:

"Hai, Sensei. Sorry."

Before literally getting the fuck out of Dodge. Later 12 Donnie will be asking him what's wrong and 12 Mikey will be poking at his shell wondering what's gotten him so spooked and 12 Raph will hallowly say:

"I swore in front of this lair's Master Splinter."

He'll get hisses of sympathy from his younger brothers and 12 Mikey would be the one to ask what he'd said while 12 Donnie would try to tell him it's not that bad and 12 Raph would look up staring them dead in the eyes before saying:

"I literally said Mother fucking tits."

And unknowingly Rise Splinter who was passing by hears it and the three just hear this God awful wheezing noise as the shorter rat completely loses his absolute shit, laughing so hard that he literally begins to cry. Leaving 12 Raph an embarrased mess while 12 Donnie and 12 Mikey try to help their brother while also trying not to laugh at this.

Later they tell 12 Leo when 12 Raph isn't within ear shot.

And are met with their clan leader laughing so hard he ends up collapsing from the sheer force of his wheezy laughter.

#oli talks #ooc #muns ramblings #mindless ramblings of a madman #extreme shitpost #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt/rottmnt crossover #turtles forever #turtles forever crossover #tmnt 1987 #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2007 #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2018 #bayverse tmnt #tmnt leo #rottmnt leo #tmnt raph #rottmnt raph #tmnt donnie #rottmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #rottmnt mikey #tmnt splinter #rottmnt splinter

[dimepdf]

★  𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒. + 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. when it comes to your sticky fingers, Joel is pretty tired of being the one to clean up all your messes, so he decides that he finally deserves an award.

─── ☆ author note. pedro pascal brainrot go brrrrr ,, there was no song inspo for this one i literally just wrote the smut first and went "shit maybe i should give it some plot?" so here's that . | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ word count. 2.3k (18 min read) .

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | pwp | porn with little plot | kinda rushed just want that smut | mentions of violence | fighting | black coded | protective!joel | oral sex (m) | heavy petting | brat taming? | rough sex | fingering | slight grinding | kitchen sex | praise kink | finger sucking | facials | excuse the typos | not beta'd | there's no title or story inspo .

Here you were being a bother again, at least that's what Tessa referred to you as every time you would shoulder your way into Joel’s flat with new battle wounds littered the bruising purple and green colors against your brown skin. 

Despite looking as if you had your ass handed to you multiple times on a platter you had a thing for walking around and bragging as if your ribs hadn't felt like they were cracked and you weren't struggling to stand on your own two feet. 

Joel had known you long enough to understand that you just had a knack for throwing yourself full force into trouble, getting into fights, stealing supplies, and after you would come to his flat parading around and striding through his front door without a simple knock.

spending most of his afternoons with you as his company trying not to roll his eyes out of his sockets as you would just have the tendency to go on and on about your next troubling schemes.

That said plan was currently in the middle of unfolding before you, the exchange was supposed to be simple and smooth. It was what you had promised Joel at least the night before you couldn't keep your mouth shut and gave him the entire run down. 

You had mainly blamed your job of stocking for the reason you had such sticky fingers, commonly your name would be the one whispered when secret trades were brought up.  

You knew it was risky business, Joel knew it as well betting that you were practically begging to have a bounty on your head anytime soon but it was the effects of the harsh society that you lived in. 

you were a bit more angsty than you'd liked to admit, which was why a lot of your deals would fall flat out with you throwing a few punches out of patience with the situation. 

In your defense, the guard standing in front of you thought he could blackmail you into giving more than what he had first agreed, in simple terms you saw the way that he looked at you as practically undressing you with his eyes. 

The constant uncomfortable wave of compliments after every sentence he spoke had been the nail to the coffin, your fist already clenching making it quite clear that you would rather drop dead than even think about doing anything sexual just to trade off a pack of cigarettes.

Your hands were trained to be quick, reaching for the small knife tucked in the back of your belt loop ready to draw it across the man's throat if you needed to. 

the flinching in your reaction had just seemed to tense the deal, the guard finding your rejection stubborn and as if taking a hit on his ego wasn't enough the point of the barrel of his gun aimed square at your chest was enough to have you stop for just a split second to think before your body could move impulse.

Before he could even think about his finger reaching for the trigger you barreled towards him, smashing your entire body weight against him sending you both crashing to the ground in a struggle for the gun.

He had pressed your chest first into the ground, under the sole of his boot digging into your lower spine. 

All the air kicked from your lungs all you could do was curl up into yourself in hopes that the leather would cause any broken bones from the way he was stomping down on you. 

It was the first time you had been hit with an assault rifle, much to your surprise, and quite honestly, you wanted it to be your last from how harsh the pain had managed to spread from your busted eye, traveling as a pulsing pain throughout your entire face.

You were defeated, there was no doubt about it. The guard’s kicks now just became overkill as he took all his pent-up anger out through his attacks. All you could do was shield yourself until your knight and shining armor arrived. At first, when Joel stumbled upon the exchange, he hadn’t realized that it was you all tucked away, being beaten half to death. 

You could blame him, it was an easy sight to come across in the back alleys of the district with how corrupt their shit system was.

You also had not recognized him until he was just about to walk away, excusing himself not wanting to get caught up in some stranger's mess, that was until you had called out his name from under the guard shoe and everything seemed to click. 

You were convinced you had a concussion or at least some type of head injury that would explain the sudden blink where before you could realize it the guard had been beaten unconscious spread out on the ground (or at least he looked to be) while you were being hoisted up against Joel’s shoulder for leverage as he helped you stumble back to his place to clean up your pride as well as your new wound. 

The first thing Joel had spoken to you after almost a few long minutes of sitting in silence as he held a disapproving expression while dressing all of your wounds. "You and that bad habit of yours is gonna get yourself killed one day." The tone in his gruff voice held so much malice that you winced at the mention of death.

"Oh, please, that guy should be lucky that I hadn’t cut his fucking fingers off. He only got the upper hand because of that damn gun." You bit back with less sass, sliding off of the counter you were propped on.

Joel only rolls his eyes, standing with his arms crossed, you could tell he was frustrated by the way his eyebrow ticked up as he gazed down at you, not budging from his spot standing right in front of you as he caged you against the counter. "You're doing a lot of shittalk for someone that got their ass handed to them."

"Well, maybe I'm into that sort of thing, big guy?" You pressed your hand against the middle of his torso, pushing him back enough for you to wiggle away, feeling his eyes trailing after every step all the way to the open door of his fridge. 

Squatting down to your knees and glaring at the half empty bottom shelf, a small exhale parted his lips as the annoyance settled in from your unserious attitude. 

Joel knew that he couldn't convince you much with that steel stubborn skull of yours. "You have some business scolding me with all the shit that you get into—"

He had enough decorum to allow you to shut the fridge door before pressing your chest firmly against the front of the fridge and pressing his chest into your back, cramming you against the front of the fridge with the wish of his breath against the nape of your neck.

"And you talk a lot," he threatens in a low hum, goosebumps forming under the grace of his fingers as they sneak under the hem of your shirt, hands finding his favorite place to fondle you. 

As he cups your breast in his palms, raking his cold fingertips over them, enticing your nipples to bud under their rough touch.

“Wait, Tess could come back—” 

"Well, aren’t you into that sort of thing?" Joel grunts in reply, whimpering under his touch. 

Joel's rough calloused hands slide down your pudgy torso, dragging his fingertips lower to undo the buckle of your belt, unzipping your jeans all in two yanks to slide his hand under the elastic of your underwear. 

Your breath hitched at the drag of his fingers groping you, paired with the other fondling your breast over your bra. "Maybe I should give you something to finally shut you the fuck up."

You had almost purred under his touch, melting against his caressing hands as Joel made his erection a statement by pressing himself against the back of your thigh. The outline of his situation makes your thighs press together as you press back, saying farewell to the rest of the dignity you had left. "And what do you mean by that?"

"Don’t make me spell it out for you, hon." Feeling the brush of his breath against your skin, his voice gentle as his hands roamed your body as if he owned it, against the tip of your ears, shivering at the wet kisses that found themselves placed against the exposed peak of your neck.

"This doesn't seem like much of a punishment to me." You sucked in a breath at his fingers finding themselves between your legs, toying with you as all they did was rub mindlessly against your front teasingly, just inches away from where you needed them to be the most.

"I’d like to think I’m a fair man," Joel hums as he dips his hand deeper into your pants, fingers pushing into your pussy, biting your lip as you flinch at the feeling that the rough drag of his dry fingers adjusted on the tips of your toes before he could comfortably settle with a wet layer of your arousal wrapping around his digits. "I get a reward for saving your stubborn ass, and you get a punishment for wasting my fucking time."

Pressing your cheek flat against the cool metal of the fridge while arching farther into his hold, the slick sound of them positioning in and out was starting to make your blood run hot as Joel’s fingers started to move at an earnest pace. "Ngh—fine by me, honestly; maybe I should act out more often."

Joel scoffs, feeling the briskness of his smirk pressed against your hot skin; his mouth drags over the shell of your ear, practically counting the hum of his heartbeat as his chest presses against your back. "Oh yeah?" Just as quickly as the pleasure started, it stopped, Joel’s hands yanking away, leaving you feeling discombobulated as you whined out, leaning farther back and chasing after his touch.

"Ah, since you're having so much fun and I’ve been so patient," Joel pulled away with a small noise of rejection, instead using his hand to spin you facing forward, pressing your back against the fridge as the other made quick work undoing the front of his pants, the noise from his zipper making you swallow. "You're gonna get on your fucking knees for me, and give me my reward now."

Your eyes met the dark, lustful look in Joel’s eyes as he shuffled backward until he bumped into the table, making do with his pants enough to pull his dick from his briefs all while holding sly eye contact.

Joel knows that you find him breathtaking; he plays into the feeling you would get between your thighs, never wanting to keep your hands to yourself when he was around.

He also knew every little thing that would make you tick, all the ways to drive you up the wall, and just how to get you aching between your thighs. You didn't have to be told twice, shame being the last thing on your mind as you huffed, shuffled your steps forward, and fell down to your knees in front of the older man.

Hissing at the small crescent dig of his nails cupping your face forward, he tried not to fidget as if his other hand wasn't losing wrap around the base of his dick, touching himself at the sight of you down there. "Open."

Obeying this command, your mouth is coaxed open by the flat front of his thumb dragged along your bottom lip. Your tongue follows quickly after, along with your teeth, as you lean forward enough to give a playful chomp at the finger before soothing the attack with the wet swirl of your tongue. It only entices Joel further, pulling the same hand away and instead replacing it with another thing you could suck on.

Farther down from the tip all the way to the base, you pull your lips over your teeth with the struggle of your throat reminding you of your gag reflex, your brow creasing, and hands planting on top of his thighs to ground you and steady breathing through your nose.

A satisfied exhale rolls from Joel's throat, his hands buried in a tight grasp at your curls, watching himself disappear between your full, smooth lips. "You're fucking perfect." Joel hushedly praises, "If only you could see how fucking gorgeous you look from here, sweet girl."

You melt at the sincerity and gentleness of his tone, the vibration nearly makes Joel topple over as his knees threaten to buckle. You could feel the tense flex of his muscles under your palm as you grasped at his jeans. Joel's thrusts are considered tamed, more gentle, and slow you even thought him out to be timid around your relaxed throat. 

Gagging only when he got a bit more handsy, your fingernails digging into his pant leg as he strains himself from giving in too much, even if the thought of fucking your throat was becoming more enticing. 

Joel's hips still bent, his hand knotting in your hair, tugging you away with a more rough force as he pants at the overwhelming clarity that struck from his orgasm. 

Your eyes glued to the other hand that worked itself around the hilt of his dagger, giving himself a few quick strokes that unfolded so quickly that you barely had time to process that he was coming onto your face until his fingers clenched around the hair of your scalp, tilting your head up towards the ceiling just to get a better look as if he had created a masterpiece of artwork all over your face.

🔖 @adison-smart27 / @m0mmym1lk3r-png / @do-double-g

comment or tap here to be added to taglist.

#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ] #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Okay I’ve been toying with an idea for a Six of Crows au post-Crooked Kingdom where Van Eck won for a little while now and yeah idk but I had a scene idea come to me just now so I’m gonna write it here to see what you guys think and if there’s any interest then I might add it to my list of fics to write

This feels like a weird introduction but, er, here we go:

Inej knew the moment Kaz got home. There were no longer any crowds in the house to come to attention at his entrance, or if there were then no-one had bothered to come down to the half-room and tell Inej, but she could hear his voice drifting through the vents as soon as the door upstairs banged shut behind him.

“Where’s Inej?”

“Where do you think?” Matthias’ reply came roughly, and Inej could all but picture the disapproving grimace that must be crossing his face about now.

Let him judge. She didn’t need to leave the half-room, and for as long as that was true she wouldn’t. The vents did not give her every room though, and she did miss gathering her secrets. She wondered if there was anyone else in the house, but the five of them. Five? She stopped and counted them on her fingers. Yes, five. Hopefully still five. Inej had not bothered to leave the half-room in days, and no-one had been down to see her since yesterday morning.

She heard the door click open behind her, of course, but she did not bother to look up as Dirtyhands entered the room.

“Wraith,”

“Don’t you read the papers, Kaz?” Inej asked, without turning, “The Wraith is dead,”

She stood up, hand wandering across the table for her little pot of jurda. It tasted like shit and it wasn’t nearly as strong as she wanted it to be, but it took less than a month for the price of the blossoms to surpass the height of the stars so she’d have to make do with whatever they had left.

“Inej-”

“They found her body on the steps outside the Church of Barter almost three months ago, remember?” she finally turned to face Kaz, unscrewing the lid on the little silver pot as she did so, “Killed by some mercenary called the White Blade, who still hasn’t been found by they way in case you haven’t seen the latest. I guess it’s difficult to catch a ghost,”

Difficult to catch a wraith.

“We’ve had this conversation several times, Inej-”

“And we’re going to have it again,”

Inej placed an orange jurda blossom on her tongue, then offered the open container to Kaz. It was almost empty. He waved her off.

“I thought you didn’t go in for that sort of thing,”

Inej shrugged.

“Gotta stay awake somehow, haven’t I? We’re busy,”

“We’re not on a job”

“We’re never on a job. Unless the reason you’ve bothered to grace me with your presence is a proposition?”

Kaz shook his head.

“I just wanted to tell you there’s no news,”

Inej looked away. There was never any news. And yet somehow she always expected differently.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Probably,”

Inej caught another jurda blossom between her fingers. She needed to stay awake, because if she slept she would see him. She would see all the ways she’d failed.

“It wasn’t your fault, Inej, we’re having the same conversations on repeat can’t you see-,”

“And we’ll have them again,” she shrugged, “We will have this conversation again, Kaz, because I made a mistake and you are coddling me like a child who won’t be able cope if you tell them something was their fault. Tell me it was my fault, Kaz! We both know that it’s true,”

Kaz shook his head.

“I’d rather repeat the previous,”

“Then let’s,” snapped Inej, because hell if this jurda wasn’t strong enough to keep her awake then maybe an argument would be, “Let’s repeat the goddamn conversation, Kaz, because you’re right. We have the same two conversations on repeat and do you want to know why? Because I am owning up to the mistake I made and I am trying to deal with the consequences of it, but you had no right to do what you did, do you understand me? You messed up and you need to take some damn responsibility, because if you think-”

“You always knew Tailoring Dunyasha’s body to look like yours was a possibility for your escape option,” said Kaz, calmly.

She hated how quiet his voice was, how slow and deliberate he sounded next to the and ramblings that she could not stop from stumbling out of her.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” she hissed, slamming her jurda back down on the table.

“I couldn’t have done anything to stop that,”

“You could have tried,”

“Inej-”

“Shevrati,”

Know-nothing.

She waved a hand vaguely at the door.

“Get out,”

Kaz turned to leave, then paused.

“I am sorry, Inej. They’d like to see you upstairs, you know. Nina misses you,”

“Nina can come down here then,”

“Inej… I can’t do anything for you but apologise,”

“Keep you apologies,” she snarled, and when the door had closed behind him added: “Choke on them,”

Kaz could apologise all he wanted. She would not forgive him. What right did he have to expect anything different from her than this? Did any of them? Kaz had not had to watch his parents cry, as they carried home the body of a child that wasn’t theirs. Kaz had not had to feel the ironclad grip of the person he thought he’d trusted most in the world as they held him back and told him to swallow his sobs and keep quiet. Kaz had not given up and gone limp in their arms, a mess of tears and useless prayers, as he saw his parents slip from his grasp once again and knew that he would not have the chance to tell them truth.

Kaz had also not failed the others, and did not have to feel the truth of that choking him every time he saw them. Kaz had not spent almost three months barely daring to venture out of the half room, just so he would never have to lock eyes with Jesper Fahey. There was a scream inside Inej that had been slowly building itself since the day of the auction, and if she did not find a way to release it soon it may very well eat her alive.

#I’ve never read a fic where van eck won but if anyone has any recs let me know because I’m very intrigued by the concept #six of crows #grishaverse #crooked kingdom #leigh bardugo #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar #kanej #kanej fic #kanej fanfiction #soc fics #soc fanfic #soc fandom #soc fic #soc fanfiction #ao3 #six of crows fandom #six of crows fic #six of crows fanfic #grishaverse fandom #grishaverse fanfic #soc au #six of crows au #au fic #au fic idea

[queenbeebumblebee]

"Trying to meassure"

Lee!Vox Ler!Velvette

Summary: Velvette is trying to meassure Vox for new outfits in plan(plus to Fix the old one) and it turns into a little Tickle Game.

Vox was just minding his own business looking through his new phone, he had to get a new one because You know, the last time Val broke his phone, wich it wasnt no fun.

Of course, his suit was a MESS! Because of today he had been dealing with Alastor, wich of course.. lost. You could tell he was extremely mad about this. Of course, this din't last for long.

As Vox was just checking on social media, minding his own business, he could hear some familiar footsteps coming closer and closer to him, it was non other than Velvette, who exactly, looked annoyed.

"Vox. Vox i need You to come with me now."

Velvette said sternly, earning Vox's look of confusion.

"hm? What could be the problem My dear?"

Vox asked, looking confused on the annoyed look the other Overlord gave, he din't Even notice his ruined suit.

"have You LOST your mind?! Look at You, You look horrible! Come over here now!!"

Velvette yelled, her expression on her face turning from annoyed to mad, she quickly dragged Vox by the wrist, guiding him to the wardrove.

"oh come on Vel, My suit doesnt look THAT Bad!"

Vox said, looking at his own suit, He thinks that this was just normal, but for Velvette, it was a DISASTER.

Let's skip to the important part.

Vox was forced to be Standing still as Velvette meassured him, because she needed to Make him a new outfit for him, plus a few Styles just to Make him look awesome, though, his breath has been caught trapped in his throat as the Overlord "accidently" brushed her fingers across his ribs.

"u-uhm.. Vel, what exactly are You-"

Before he could Even Say anything else, a soft snort came out of him as Velvette veeery slowly counted his ribs, while her other hand "accidently" tickled his hip, earning a few giggles from the Tv Overlord, his screen now heating up and his fans working to cool him off.

"V-Vehehel! Cuhuhut it ohohohout!!"

"hold still Vox, i'm trying to meassure You."

Vox tried his hardest to not move away, of course, he can't help but twitch slightly as it really tickled him, he did not want to be a giggly mess right now, as if it was gonna be worse, still, she did not stop.

"come on, it ain't that bad."

"b-but it tihihickles! Ohoho fuck, gehet it ohohover wihihith!!"

Vox said as he wheezed out a cackle, sure, he liked being tickled, Even though he wouldnt ever and i mean NEVER admit it, but it was hard to hold still when Velvette just meassured him as an excuse to Tickle him, yet he dint mind at all, but-

"AHAHA SHIHIHIHT, V-VEHEHEL NOT THEHEHEHERE!!"

Vox yelled as he shrieked when Velvette MESSED With his antenna, while her other hand was still "meassuring" him by brushing her fingers from his hips, to his Upper ribs, close to his Armpits.

"oh come on Vox, let me meassure You, i'm almost done."

"IHIHIHITS SOHOHO BAHAHAHAD!"

Vox yelled as he squeald and cackled, Velvette of course watched with a grin, she finds in funny how ticklish this Demon is, her and Valentino always takes advantage, but they don't do it better than Alastor of course.

A few minutes passed, Vox's laughter and snorts filled the air, until finally, Velvette decides to have some mercy on the poor Overlord.

"i'm done, You have to wait here 'till i get some outfits in your size, okay?"

"g-geheheheez.. okay... Ohoho god.. that was so Bad.."

Vox said quietly as he wheezed and tried to catch his breath, as Velvette left, Vox took this opportunity to just relax and wait, though he kinda wanted the Tickles to go on for longer, but he would rather double die then to admit it. He then took a seat as he waited for the other Overlord to come back with the outfits, he could hear her yelling at her employees.. let's just Say he had a Revenge plan, but for now, he waited to get a new suit.

THE END.

OMG finally i'm done with this, i'm sorry it took long, i was busy on some shit. But anyways, i hope You enjoyed it!

#bee #sfw tickling community #sfw tickle blog #sfw tickle community #sfw tk blog #hazbin hotel tickles #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin hotel #lee!vox #ler!velvette #Queen bee fic #Queen bee Tickle fic #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel tickle art #Not Bad for My first fic!

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

“The hell d’ya want?” Daryl growled. He didn’t even look up at you, just kept messing with his crossbow across his lap.

You felt wounded by his tone but tried not to take it personally. Finding out Sophia was dead had hurt all of you, but Daryl seemed to take it harder than anyone but Carol. “I—I don’t know. I just—things are tense back over there,” you said, gesturing vaguely back toward the camp close to the farmhouse. Daryl had removed himself from it and was spending his time far away from the others. “Shane and Rick are arguing about everything it seems like...” you stopped and leaned against the tree trunk next to his tent. He stayed silent.

“So?” he growled. This time his eyes flickered up to you and they were steely and guarded. “The hell ya talkin’ to me about it for?”

You gulped and frowned at his response. This was far harsher than usual for the archer... You struggled for something to say, at a loss for how to respond to his hostile tone.

“I got my own damn problems without figuring out you and everybody else’s bullshit,” he snapped at you. “I been takin’ on shit that ain’t mine to deal with since ya’ll showed up at the damn quarry! Maybe Merle was right. Other people are more damn trouble than they’re worth.”

You shook your head. “This isn’t you talking, Daryl. I know you’re upset but—”

He stood up abruptly. “What the hell d’ya know ‘bout me? Not a damn thing! Yer just like the rest of ‘em,” he said, flicking a hand in your direction. “Ya only want me around to watch yer ass and put fuckin’ food on yer plate. Tha’s the only reason ya want me around, to make sure ya dun get fuckin’ bit or starve to death. Well, ‘m sick of it.”

Your jaw clenched and you fought with angry and hurt tears rather unsuccessfully. You knew he was hurting profoundly, but this was too much. “That’s really how you feel?” you choked out.

He glared at you, a turbulent ocean in his eyes. “Yeah. That’s how I fuckin’ feel,” he growled. “Merle was right. We shoulda robbed that damn camp and moved on.”

You recoiled, stunned by what he’d just said and sick and angry all at once. You’d flinched back almost as if he’d physically hit you, and when he saw that his stomach tightened into a knot and twisted. Regret. Instant regret. But the damage was done. He saw the muscle in your jaw tense and the angry tears in your eyes. “Fuck you, then,” you said. You turned, and he watched you stalking away all the way back across the open field, back to the others.

Shit. Why the fuck had he done that, to you of all people? Fuck. Why am I such an asshole? He collapsed down onto his camp chair and put his head in his hands, swirling, stormy emotions welling up in his chest and pushing on his lungs. 

Prompt: “Fuck you, then.” A/N: early show Daryl could be such an explosive, angry dude. Understandably so, but OUCH. C’mon, Dixon. Y/N is here to help... Ya gotta deal with those feelings, babe...

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon angst #twd angst #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #farm era #twd

[ghoul-bonez]

~When Feelings Feel Like Too Much~

(Platonic! Jake Sully x Daughter! Reader)

Summary: Depression can be suffocating, and suck you into what feels like a pit nobody can help you out of. Except for your dad. He will always be there for you.

Word count: 2k

Author's note: Literally just a vent story yeehaw? Not very well written I just needed to get shit out and why not turn it into an angsty fanfic for others to enjoy???

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, self harm, depression

~Masterlist~

When Feelings Feel Like Too Much

Sometimes life feels like it’s too much. Everything is too much.

The sounds of the forest and highcamp that you love so much begin to hurt your ears, and give you a headache. Birds chirping which would usually bring you joy made you feel like your ears were being stabbed by a knife. Every slight noise hurts, making you increasingly more and more irritated.

The light from the sun seemed too bright during the day, and the fires at night burned your eyes. The feeling was unbearable, like you would rather be blind than have to deal with the overwhelming pain the bright lights brought you. You were always squinting, trying to keep the light as low as possible, and your eyes were starting to pay the price, they stung when you would close them.

Smells were sickening, to the point of gagging. Even flowers you used to love the smell of were making you feel sick. It made you sad you couldn’t enjoy them anymore, but it seemed like there was nothing you could do to help.

Your favorite clothes made you itchy. They made you feel like your skin was burning, like you were set on fire. Nothing was comfortable to wear. On top of that any touch from your family felt like burns too. Every hug from Tuk, every gentle touch from Kiri, anytime Lo’ak would smack you jokingly, Neteyam’s pats on the head. It all burned.

Your favorite foods started tasting off. Some foods would taste too spicy, some fruits tasting too sweet, some foods just tasted gross in general. The off taste made you lose your appetite every time, like your mom had somehow messed up the recipe.

Your mom, Neytiri. She was always there for you, she loved you more than anything else, just like the rest of the family. She would do anything for you, sacrifice her own life to save yours. You loved her, but sometimes you couldn’t stand spending time with her. She never did anything wrong, but your mood was just too sour and you didn’t want it to rub off on anyone else.

Your dad was the best of all. You were one of his baby girls, and he would never let you forget that. You were so special, irreplaceable, but you felt replaceable. You didn't feel special, not in any good way at least. You felt special in the fragile way, in an anything could hurt you way.

You felt like you couldn’t share your burden with anyone. Nobody could know. Your brain told you nobody would even care if they knew, although you knew that was just the negative thoughts in your head. As those thoughts nagged you you sunk deeper and deeper into the depths of your emotions.

Most nights after you were supposed to be asleep you would sneak off to have some alone time. Some time to process your emotions, on your own. You couldn’t process them around other people.

When you were overwhelmed, everything about being around people was too much. Even the sound of their breathing would be enough to cause a breakdown.

So you sat in your special place, alone.

It was beautiful, and if you weren’t so upset every time you came maybe you could admire it a bit more. A small pond was hidden in a particularly dense part of the forest, where nobody really went. Little fish swarmed your feet as they dangled in it from where you were sitting.

You didn’t really cry, not anymore. It felt as if you had cried all the tears you had, leaving nothing left besides sorrow and sadness, with no way to express those emotions. No way to release them into the world.

You felt numb, maybe that’s why you couldn’t cry. Maybe numb wasn’t exactly the right word, you felt things, but they were bad, and you couldn’t feel anything good. You were never happy, never excited. Everything good was just numb, not there.

You had tried to get yourself to feel something in many ways, but the only way to feel something was by hurting yourself. By running a knife along your forearms. Even then the feelings were short lived. It was like a high you couldn’t stop chasing.

You wanted to feel excited and happy but nothing would evoke those emotions inside you. You used to be so positive, and every little thing could bring your sour mood up. Now it was different.

You know your parents were trying to help with that, bringing you your favorite fruits, or telling your favorite stories from when you were little. They knew something was wrong and you’d be dumb or in denial if you didn’t realize that.

Since they had noticed you had started becoming a better actress, pretending everything was fine. They couldn't know the extent of your problems. They would be mad, sad, and worst of all disappointed. You didn’t think you could take that disappointment.

Even when you realized your parents noticed you were off, something that you didn’t notice was your dad’s actions. He had been trying so hard to help you, from the sidelines, where he was most comfortable.

He had begun following you around more, watching you to make sure you were okay. He felt weird watching you from a distance, but his fatherly instincts to protect and make sure his kids were okay overpowered the awkwardness.

He had even noticed your habit of sneaking off at night. He brought it up to Neytiri who said she wanted to follow you, but he felt it needed to be him. Tonight he set his plan into action, following behind you as you made your way through the forest. He stayed far enough back that you wouldn’t notice him, slinking through the shadows.

When you arrived at your destination he hid behind a tree, observing you. When you didn’t move, or do anything but stare at your feet in the water for a while he decided to make his move. He needed to figure out what was wrong, what was going on.

Your dad approached you carefully, slowly, like if he made any sudden movements you would scatter away, “What’s wrong baby girl?”

You were startled by his presence, but quickly turned your body away from him as he sat down next to you, “Nothing. I’m fine.”

He sighed, taking a deep breath afterwards, “I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong. All I want to do is help you.”

Tears built at your waterline as you thought about what to tell your dad. You could tell the truth, bring forth all of your emotions and admit you had a problem, a big problem. A problem you couldn’t solve on your own. A problem you desperately wanted help with, but just couldn’t seem to ask.

You breathed in, then out, deciding it was best to tell your dad, “Dad, I hurt.” He can’t help you unless he knows what’s wrong.

Jake was still turned towards you while you faced away from him. He moved slowly, gently placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to be comforting, but it was enough to make the tears start streaming. Finally something to make you cry after feeling like you couldn’t for weeks.

He asked, “Where baby girl?”

You sniffled, exhaustion from your pent up emotions was starting to make you groggy, making your body feel heavy but you picked up your hand, and pointed to your head, “Up here.”

Jake didn’t make you look at him as he spoke to you, your responses were enough for now. It hurt you were hiding your crying from him, but he understood you might need some space.

He continued to be careful with you, using broad questions, “Okay, where on your head.”

You mumbled, “Inside.”

He hummed, “A headache?”

You sighed then, turning to him for the first time where he could see your tears. The sight of the liquid streaming down your face, and your little sniffles and hiccups from crying, hurt him more than anything he had ever experienced before.

He brought you into a hug as you spoke, “No my emotions. They don’t feel good. I never feel happy and I feel like everyone’s eyes are always on me. I’m paranoid that the RDA and Quaritch are always right around the corner. I always feel so overwhelmed. It hurts and the only way I can stop it is by hurting myself.”

Jake took a second to think, forming another open question, “So you’re depressed?”

You shrugged as good as you could in his arms, “I guess…”

He just squeezed you tighter for a second, and for once a hug felt nice, not too overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry. Can I see where you’re hurting yourself?”

You shook your head quickly, “No. You’re going to tell mom and she’s going to be upset.” Pausing, thinking before you speak, admitting your biggest fear, “You’re going to be upset.”

“I promise I won’t.” He hummed for a second, an internal battle going on. He wanted to be open with you, to let you know you weren’t alone, “Let me tell you something, I’ve felt how you’re feeling right now. All of it. I was depressed when I was on earth, nothing seemed like it was able to help me, and I used unhealthy coping mechanisms. I’m also always paranoid that Quaritch is right around the corner. I have nightmares that he’s gotten you or one of your siblings. So I feel your pain. All of it. I just want to help, so please show me and I can help.”

After hearing all of that, your fathers admission, and that you weren’t alone in this you couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked through your body. They were harsh and strong as you breathed heavily and quickly, almost hyperventilating.

Jake didn’t know what to do, it felt like he was paralyzed all over. So he just held you, trying his best to be comforting as he took deep steady breaths for you to copy as you began to calm down after a few minutes.

“Are you ready to show me?” He asked.

You simply nodded, yes, before baring your wrists to him. They were covered in thin lines, some older and more scabbed over, but more were new and red, still barely crusted over by blood.

Jake’s breath caught in his throat, it felt like it was closing up. He couldn’t bare to see them anymore so he grabbed your hands, flipping them back over and holding them.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he could say. Too many thoughts were going on in his head to say anything else. His mind was jumbled, thoughts scattered around, wound around each other.

You sighed, “Why are you sorry? I should be the one saying sorry.”

Jake shook his head, “You have no reason to say sorry. I’m sorry you didn’t feel comfortable enough to come to me with this.”

You sniffled, trying to hold back more tears that wanted to fall, “I didn’t come to you because I thought you would be mad at me… disappointed.”

He squeezed your hands that were still held in his, “I could never be mad at you for this.”

A small smile tried to rise on your face, “So, you’re not upset with me?”

Jake sighed, thinking, “I wish you would have come to me sooner, but no, I’m not upset.”

“Okay…” Was your simple reply, but it was enough.

Jake couldn’t stop himself from pulling you into another hug. As he held you he muttered, “I love you.”

You let out a content sigh, a smile really coming to your face, “I love you too dad. Thank you.”

Now when feelings feel like too much you can go to your dad. You have someone to lean on, and that seems like enough to start recovering from your deep depression.

You will start recovering. You will feel better.

It will get better.

#avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #fanfic #fanfiction #avatar movie #atwow #atwow fanfiction #atwow fics #platonic jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader

[jesse-cromeans-sugarbaby]

Ok but like Rusty nail x milf reader 😍 if you can and you are comfortable with if you aren't please ignore ❤️ HAVEANICEDAYYYYY🫂

Of course darling! I hope it is to your liking!

Rusty nail x milf!reader

Warnings: metions of murder, breeding kink, cream pie, dry humping, oral

If there’s anything I missed lemme know.

Sfw

He definitely loves your kid..HE'S THE DAD THAT STEPPED UP. He shows your son/daughter his truck. Their inside the truck and rusty is showing them around it letting them mess with the horn. He picks them up for school when he’s not on the road.

He loves caring for your kid. He'll fight another kid if they’re bullying your son/daughter. Like he will definitely fight someone’s dad if he has to. He takes the father role very seriously. They are his own now, he doesn’t care if they aren’t his blood. They are his, no ifs ands or buts.

“If I find out your kid is hurting my son/daughter again it’ll be your ass that’ll have to deal with me”

When he is on the road he loves calling and FaceTiming. It makes him happy to see your son/daughter get so excited to hear or see him. Your kid definitely steals the phone just to talk to him. You have to fight them just to get the phone back.

“Give the phone back to momma now okay?”

I believe he has come home covered in blood once..that was difficult to explain to your son/daughter. His excuse is that he bump into paint. Yeahhhh you didn’t believe but at least your kid did.

You eventful find out that he murders people, but it doesn’t change how much you love him…at first you were concerned ya know considering he could get hurt. You will patch up any wound or scrap he has. It never ceases to amaze him. The way you care about him like no one ever has.

He basks in it, he act more hurt than he actually is. Just so he gets pampered.

He loves his lil family!

NSFW…

Alright here’s where things get a lil messy. He 100% has a breeding kink. You’ll be laying in bed. He just got out of a shower and your kid is tucked into bed. He’s immediately on you. You will not be getting out of bed tonight. He’ll be putting you in every position you will be knocked up by the end of the week.

“That’s it sugar…let daddy fill you up”

He loves seeing you filled with him. He really wants to see you pregnant. Covers your mouth so that you don’t wake up your son/daughter.

“Now keep that pretty mouth closed don’t want you waking up the little one”

Now if you do end up pregnant he will not leave you alone. Basically wants you to not lift a finger. He loves seeing your body grow…(loves your breasts). While your son/daughter is at school, he has you ride him on the couch. His eyes hardly leave your growing stomach. He is gentler when you're pregnant, he’s scared you’ll break.

Lots of dry humping, he's busy so are you . So that just means he’s gotta be quick..doesn’t mean you’re forgotten though he lives for making you come. He loves your pretty noises and how you look when you come.

“That’s it baby…let it out”

Your son/daughter has definitely accidentally walked in on you. That led to you having to tell your son/daughter that you two were just “hugging”.

“Yeah that’s what parents do…uh they hug”

Rusty is very possessive if he sees any of the other dads eyeing you or trying to flirt they may or may not end up dead. He doesn’t care if they have a family…that just means they deserve death more.

He leaves marks on you..EVERYWHERE. There is not a single place that hasn’t been marked by him. You’ll be getting weird looks from the other moms meanwhile rusty is just standing beside you smug…the little shit.

“Their just jealous cause there husbands would rather watch fucking football than fuck them”

He got slapped to the back of the head for saying that. He's just being honest! Some of the other moms have ogled rusty and it pisses you off. That’s when you show off his beautiful marks.

“Aw sugar was someone jealous. Don’t worry baby my Heart is yours”

He is a munch. When you two get alone time you will be a mess. Tears streaming down your cheek you hair a askew. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come. You’re body is shaking and you try to pull him off you and he just growls and slaps your thigh.

“Come on momma one more time”

Yeah he lied it wasn’t the last time. He loves how you taste.

He wears a hat that say I <3 milfs

#slashers #rusty nail x reader #rusty nail joyride #rusty nail #milf!reader #slasher smut #slasher x reader #x reader

[milogreer]

so uhh this is gonna be scatterbrained. but i'm gonna ramble about milo and (what little info we have on) colm. sorry in advance if it doesn’t make sense i just had to exorcise this demon 🫡

i believe "camping with your alpha boyfriend (2021)" is the earliest mention of colm in an audio. obviously we don't actually know milo's side of things because it's told from david's POV, but we still get the mental image of little thirteen year old milo sitting shotgun in his dad's pickup as they drive to their camping spot. gabe's goofing around in the truck bed to make david and asher laugh, and colm joins in the fun by swerving the truck to mess with gabe. very basic dad thing to do, my dad's done the exact same thing to me and my siblings. it feels familiar and silly, and david frames it as a good memory, so it feels like a good memory. which is important to the point of this post

in "celebrating the new house (2022)," we get a little more colm lore:

My dad was forever blowing any cash he made on fucking bets and gambling and shit, chasing some fucking high. My mom was the only reason we didn’t end up out on the fucking street. He didn’t pull his head out of his ass and get some help until after I’d already moved out. So I never got to have that feeling of being in a house that was actually ours, ya know?

already this is a stark contrast to what we've previously heard of colm (i don't think there's any real mention of him between sept 2021 and dec 2022?) and it kinda makes me look at that old memory in a different light, especially with regards to david saying marie was "nagging [colm's] ear off about being irresponsible and a bad example." like. ykwim? like i'm just thinking about that interaction and wondering how far along those problems were at the time, if they were present at all. was this a normal, fun family outing? or would milo have rather been in the truck bed with david, asher, and gabe?

(and the fact that it wasn't until after milo moved out that colm tried getting any help?? i could make a whole other post speculating about milo struggling with wanting to move out of that environment ASAP vs not wanting to leave marie on her own to deal with colm)

so then i'm re-listening to "your werewolf boyfriend is worried about you" and having a visceral reaction to (re-)learning that colm was also an alcoholic:

But what he chose to do with that frustration and that feeling of powerlessness was not his job’s fault, those were his choices. He’s the one who decided to lose himself in booze and gambling and never being home. Never being there for the people he said he loved but apparently couldn’t stand to be around.

the last sentence especially is just an absolute heartbreaker because milo's, what, thirty now? and he's been dealing with this since he was a kid. clearly he's not on great terms with colm. the only times he ever talks about him is when he's shit talking the department. that is a crazy weight for someone to carry their whole life. i don't have experience with the gambling side but i do have an alcoholic family member who i used to be really close to as a kid but grew up to intensely resent as a result of his actions, so it hits a little close to home to see that reflected in milo

but i digress. umm. i bring up the camping story to highlight the most recent mention of colm from milo and how there were good times and sometimes maybe it hurts to remember them when the person involved devastated you as you grew up because they weren't what you thought they were. and how these things follow you through life and impact how you approach certain things. milo has to live with the fact that the same system that royally fucked colm is potentially going to do the same thing to the love of his life; i never drink more than one shot or half a beer, if i drink at all, and i don't like being around drunk people. even though we don't hear about colm very often, his influence is still there whenever milo has to deal with the department in any way

anyway i guess TLDR; imagine living the majority of your thirty years of life feeling like your dad couldn't stand to be around you because he was too busy drinking himself stupid and gambling away every penny he had as a way to deal with the strain that his job put on him. imagine having to witness your mom struggle constantly to keep you cared for. imagine the few good childhood memories you have with your dad being overshadowed by thinking he didn't love you or your mom enough to change. imagine watching the department run your soulmate into the dirt physically and mentally the same way it did your father and wanting to be supportive of them but also being so worried for them. it's a really interesting situation for him to be in and i enjoy it but it hurts me. the end

#one thing about me is that i will gravitate towards characters with alcoholic family members whether i know it or not #redacted audio #redacted asmr #milo greer #sweetheart.txt #milo #colm