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strawbeerossi · 11 months

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Tiny Dancer

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After Spencer meets you while you are on an undercover mission, it isn’t long until you two get to know each other. After your first date together, you give him a few lessons.

Content/Warnings: Awkward Spencer, strip club, minor case matter, lap dancing, cumming in pants.

Word Count: 2.8K

Kinktober Day Nineteen: Lingerie

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

This is my least favorite fic. I apologize in advance.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Emily asked, gazing at the front of the strip club where Aaron was smoothening out his suit jacket and glancing at her and Spence.. “One million percent. Don’t get too distracted here. I have a friend who is in sex crimes working undercover to catch someone who is taking advantage of strippers and call girls. She agreed to meet us but you have to be prepared for the way she’s going to talk to us. It’s not going to be a traditional interview.”

The two agents looked between each other in confusion. What did he mean by that? Regardless, they both walked inside the not too busy club. This was a more upscale place, one of the strip clubs that kept the high paying men of the city anonymous, able to enjoy the likes of a the establishment without someone going back and telling wives, girlfriends, or employers. The safety due to the membership only status worked out in their favor, only having to flash their badges and mentioning they needed to scope out the place before they were let inside.

Once in the dimly lit building, Aaron’s gaze was scanning the room before his eyes landed just on the undercover agent they were looking for. You had gotten the hint he was here to see you, so you were moving away from the man you were currently talking to before twirling your hair around your finger. “Hi sweetheart. Looking for a dance today?” You asked sweetly, glancing back at the other agents who were waiting as well.

“Yes. My friends and I woulda actually like to ask for a private dance. Is that something we could do?” Your gaze lingered on one particular agent; Spencer Reid. He was a living legend around the FBI due to his intellect, of course you’d heard about him around the office. “I charge extra for groups.” You added soon after, which you were leading the three agents back to the safety of the private room while you closed the door. “I really wish you would text me before you do something like this.” You scolded Aaron while holding a hand out to take the money he was getting out of his wallet. The cameras in the room made it hard to have a normal conversation, you having to play along to the private dance fantasy.

After pushing the bills into the babydoll lingerie top, you were going to the pole in the middle of the room. “I know. However this is an emergency that I didn’t plan for. One of our victims worked here. Her name was Amanda Raymond. What can you tell us about her?” Aaron stated as if there wasn’t a half naked woman in the room that had Spencer’s face bright red and Emily practically drooling at the sight.

“Mandy?” You asked, smile faltering hearing about how your missing friend was in fact dead. “She was a sweet girl. I mean, she worked damn near every night to support her son.” Your leg hooked around the pole as you did a spin around it, ultimately moving away. “She hasn’t left with anyone that I know of. I mean she had some sketchy regulars but I can get you their information,” You shrugged, moving to straddle Emily’s lap while laughing at her reaction. “Prentiss, stay focused.” You’d teased, smiling as you could feel her soft hands against your hips as she cleared her throat.

“Right, sorry. Anyone in particular that you have both serviced?” She asked, unable to help her gaze over your exposed body. How was she gonna look you in the eye around the office after this?!

“There’s Michael Lewis. He’s actually a deputy on the police force. He’s really violent. He’s left bruises on my arms and hips before whenever security couldn’t get here fast enough.” You’d answered, thinking it over. “And Trevor Brown, a college professor who likes to try and take every dancer home,” You responded, laughing a bit as the raven haired woman was pushing a twenty in your lingerie top before you were moving to Spencer.

He looked like he was gonna pass out the minute you were bending down in front of him, continuing on with your dance routine as you let your hips play with some rock song playing over the speakers of the private room. “Y-you-“ Spencer was bright red, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he clutched the arm of the leather sofa. The outfit left very little to the imagination. “I’m sorry.” He squeaked while his eyes were diverting their gaze from your ass perched in his face. “You said that they’ve t-touched you, I can assume it was insitent?” Spencer asked, his own hands itching to touch your soft skin. “Yeah. They weren’t very kind and they were pushy. I’m sure you’ve seen the type on the field. I’m just sure they don’t grab you the way they’ve grabbed me.”

You turned to face Spencer again as your arms loosely draped around his shoulder, your tantalizing hips having Spencer drunk in the moment. The genius would think you were doing this on purpose, almost as if you enjoyed the act of teasing him and rendering him speechless. He had to admit that he was definitely a fan. He just wished his boss and coworker wasn’t with him, this interview would’ve gone just a tad different. “I can give you their information. I’ve had them leave their numbers and some business cards as if I would ever talk to them outside of this job.” You added, your dance coming to an end anyway as you were heading to a stack of cards and such.

The girls had gotten used to tossing any kind of numbers or other things on one of the tables in the room. Sifting through the numbers, you were smiling whenever you came across the two cards. “I really do think they should be watched closely.” You spoke while handing a card to Aaron. Now you were going to tease Spencer more, putting the card between your teeth before heading over to bend in front of him once more, leaning in close so he could retrieve the card.

Due to his germaphobia, he definitely wasn’t taking into his mouth, however he slowly took the car as his honey colored eyes were overshadowed by lust and embarrassment from seeing how much of an effect you had on him. “You three get out of here safely. Don’t call too much attention to yourselves. I’m not saying there is anyone here who could hurt you at the moment but.. Feds around here would terrify the mass amounts of customers who are trying to stay on the downlow.”

The three agents were getting up from the couch as they had gotten all the intel they needed. “Alright. You three keep your heads down.” You spoke while walking them over to open the door. There were a few moments where Spencer was stopped, his gaze on you. “Got a business card you wanna add to our table?” You couldn’t help but tease him, a smirk on your face. “What if I uh..” He was awkwardly reaching in his pocket, getting out a card with his number in it before he caught you off guard, slipping the card into your cleavage. The bold move was overshadowed by his embarrassed little blush, a shaky laugh leaving his lips. “Please don’t put it on the table. I’d rather have you contact me directly.” He said softly, only glancing back when he could hear Emily calling his name. “We gotta go but.. Call me?”

“You got it, Dr. Reid. Go save some lives.” You grinned, waving him off as you were walking out of the private room again to get right back to your post.

After that, the BAU did what they did best. They caught the man on a murderous rampage against sex workers, his view of them as being dirty and deserving the release of death to forgive them of their sins. Which you never understood but hey, you weren’t a psychopath so it made sense why you didn’t understand.

You’d been texting Spencer throughout the week, mostly just small talk while his awkwardness and shyness translated to messages as well. You found it endearing. He was a charming man who did have a small confidence issue but you were happy to tell him just how attractive he was and help the best you can to boost that confidence without making his ego inflating too much. You’d both agreed to meet up for coffee on a Sunday morning, the both of you meeting at a small cafe in DC.

“I’m glad you came. I was nervous you wouldn’t.” Spencer admitted as you were sitting at one of the outdoor tables with him, a smile on your face as you sipped from the cup in your hand. “Why wouldn’t I come? I’ve liked talking to you! It’s been an honor to get to know you, honestly. I mean, you’re very well known around the FBI as a whole so actually meeting you is nice rather than just hearing about you.”

The words had him blushing, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I’m just not used to asking anyone out. Which I mean, if you don’t want this to be considered that I understand.” He spoke while you were letting one hand gently pat his hand resting against the table.

“Well. You did a great job asking me! I also have to say that I don’t want this to end early. How about we go back to my apartment? I know how much you love Doctor Who and I have the whole classic series! I like the earliest seasons but I am willing to watch what you want.” You added with a smile, Spencer not daring to turn it down as you were pushing themselves to stand. Thankfully, the walk to your apartment wasn’t too long considering you lived only a couple blocks away from the cafe. After leading Spencer upstairs and unlocking the wooden door, he broke the threshold and headed inside right behind you, his hand moving to gently close the door behind you both. “You have a really nice place.” He’d commented.

It smelled like vanilla, the atmosphere being welcoming and so inviting that he had no problem towing off his shoes at the doorway before making himself comfortable as you were going for the case that held all the classic films and shows you had taken a liking to. “Here we go. Should we start with season one?” You asked, although you both didn’t share any confirmation as you were popping the disk in. After getting the remote, you were hurrying to leap onto the couch beside Spencer, the both of you laughing as you were crossing your legs to get comfortable.

The binge-watching had gone pretty standard, your body leaning comfortably against Spencer’s while your cheek was against his shoulder, his arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders. Despite his dislike for most human contact, he had to admit that he liked sitting like this with you. It helped that your body was warm against his. The contact was oddly intimate — At least to Spencer.

It was well established in the past that this guy doesn’t know how to go slow. So as you were so engrossed in the first season of your show, he was too busy thinking of the future opportunities of you both sitting on the couch like this and enjoying each other’s presence. “Can I ask you a question?” His voice finally spoke up as he glanced at you, your head lifting from his shoulder. “Yeah. Go ahead!” You offered a smile. “How long have you been doing undercover work at the uh.. You know.” He asked, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Well. I was just assigned to do it. I took pole dancing classes in college with a few friends. It’s actually a really good workout and I enjoy doing it. I just wish it wasn’t in front of a crowd.”

You answered honestly. It wasn’t something that you ever pictured yourself doing, however you were happy to catch sick fuckers that occupied the place. “Wait. They have classes?” The male asked, the hobby piquing his intrigue in the subject. “Yes! Why, want me to give you a lesson?” You joked while offering a smile. “I can teach you how to do a lap dance. I’ve already given you one so I don’t think it’ll be awkward. Right?”

Hell no it would not.

“I don’t- I don’t think so!” His voice squeaked as you were moving to stand with a smile. “Perfect! Don’t worry, you can touch me this time. No need to be freaked out.” You teased, hand retrieving the tv remote to get the screen turned off. You had moved to playfully toss your hair around, acting as if you had to gussy yourself up for the part. “Let me put on a costume. I feel like I need to do this perfectly.”

Which you disappeared for ten minutes, finding a silk purple negligee with lace stockings. You may have been overembellishing just a tad, however you wouldn’t mind Spencer putting his hands on you in any way he chose. Whenever you were coming back to the living room, your hands were on your hips as you sauntered to the couch. When the male’s eyes fell on you, he felt the wind get knocked out of him. This wasn’t at all what he was expecting. “What do you think?” You asked, doing a turn while grinning. “I was gonna put on some heels but I felt like that would be overkill.”

“I think you look stunning.”

“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, Dr. Reid.” You smirked, hand retrieving your phone as you were searching for a suitable song for the occasion.

As you’d landed on an old school rock song, it wasn’t long until you were dragging your hands up your body, watching as the agent in front of you was giving you his full divided attention. As you walked around the couch, your hands were sliding down his chest from behind him. The mere touch had his cock springing to life in his pants, especially when you ran them up his chest and rested a hand under his chin before making his head tilt up to look at you.

After lingering contact and leaning down to press a kiss to his left cheek, you were walking back in front of him again while bending. Your hands were against his knees while you lowered yourself, the angle making your cleavage nearly spill from the silky top of the ensemble and catching his attention. As your touch dragged up his thighs, you couldn’t help but grin at the way his body reacted to the touch. It was like he was so desperate to be touched and he hadn’t had any sort of intimacy like this in a while. Your hands squeezed his inner thighs before you were straddling his lap.

With your hands against his shoulders, you were humming along with the music as your hips rolled down into Spencer’s, the friction against his clothed cock being heavenly. His large hands were quickly moving to your hips, his mouth agape as he watched the intoxicating movements of your hips.

He could remember being jealous of Emily when they talked to you, the way you put on a show for her and gave Spencer hardly anything. This was a hell of a way to make it up to him though. While your hips gyrated against his lap, he was letting his head tilt back against the sofa while letting out a gentle whine. Your movements were overwhelming, hips rocking to stimulate riding his cock so good that it could nearly be considered the real thing.

By the end of the song though, Spencer could feel arousal building up in the pit of his stomach. His heart was beating fast, face red as a thin layer of sweat was collecting on his forehead from how hot he felt in these fucking clothes. What happened next was out of his control, the friction of your hips rubbing him just right as his hands squeezed your hips, a whine of your name slipping out before he could feel his cock twitch in his underwear. The arousal snuck up on him, unable to hold back as he soiled his underwear with cum. You knew all too well what had happened, your hips slowing down as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“Did you just..” You began, blushing as the male was quickly looking away in embarrassment. “I’m sorry! I can’t- I didn’t mean-“ Your hand was what cut him off as it rested gently over his mouth. “You don’t have to apologize.” You said softly while laughing some. “I’m flattered! But I think that we should probably get you cleaned up, don’t you think?”

Spencer didn’t catch on at first, not until your hands were on the button or his slacks. “Y-yeah.” He spoke shyly, lifting his lips in order to help you tug the bottoms down his legs.

“Good boy.”

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happilysmythe · 4 months

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❥ 𝙥 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧

trent frederic.

word count: 4.2k

warning: explicit content

"she wet in the shower" — gunna

A/N: this was an anonymous request for trent smut w/ a college student. so of course, i had to add some angst—makes it more fun. not to mention how much i love him, so who am i to deny it?! hope you enjoy! :)

- - -

“Do you think you’ll be able to come out soon?”

Trent’s hopeful tone of voice rang through the phone as you held it up to your ear, sitting comfortably in the quiet bedroom of your apartment. A pang of guilt washed over you. You already knew the answer, and it wasn’t the one he was looking for.

He and you first met when you were a freshman in college. He was a sophomore. You started dating quickly after. Now, you were a senior and he was playing in the NHL halfway across the country. But you lived in Wisconsin, so it wasn’t often that you got to see each other. It was difficult for him to visit during the team’s breaks, especially when the rest of his family was based in St. Louis. And you, on the other hand, were far too busy with work and school to make the extensive trips out.

“I don’t think so,” you finally sighed, pulling your knees into your chest. “I’ve been so busy, and I just—fuck, I miss you, but I can’t. And I’m so tight on money right now.”

“I’ll pay for it,” he pushed.

“Trent, I can’t,” you frowned, resting your chin on your knee. “Believe me—if I could, I’d already be there by now. It’s just…too much.”

A beat of silence followed, and you could practically picture the dejected look on his face. You knew he was still there—the soft noise of his breathing that came through the receiver told you so—but he waited to speak. He was running through any possible solutions in his head, yet not a single one was worthy of voicing.

“I want to see you,” he finally spoke. “I’m sick of only talking to you through the goddamned phone. It feels like this isn’t even real anymore.”

“Not real?” you asked, lips parted in shock. “Trent, what part of this isn’t real?”

“I—I don’t know. Look, I,” he breathed, “it’s just hard to watch all of the guys have their girlfriends here while mine is eleven hundred miles away and has barely even met any of them, alright?”

“Oh,” you spoke quietly, nodding your head as you took in his words. “So that’s it, huh? That’s the problem, isn’t it?” You fell back against your headboard, “You finally admit it, then. It’s because I’m not like them.”

“I never—”

“Oh, save it, Trent!” you shouted. “We knew this was what it would be like when the time came and we agreed to stay together. We agreed to make it work. Do you have any idea how much I’ve sacrificed to even be able to visit and see you when I do?”

You swallowed thickly, “I have juggled so many things in the past year and all I wanted was a little bit of sympathy from you. Christ’s sake, Trent, I know it sucks. I know, okay? But I am trying so goddamn hard to find the time to just talk to you like this right now!”

“That’s my whole point,” he retorted firmly, his voice irritated. “It’s like I never see you anymore. And when I come back, I have to decide between seeing you or my family, and you always make me choose them. So it’s pretty fucking frustrating to see everyone else have their girlfriends or their wives there when you barely get to talk to yours,” he took a breath. “This barely feels like anything anymore.”

“What, so you’re just going to act like I’ve never done anything for you? Like I haven’t been working day in and day out to make as much time for you as I can? I did everything for you when you still went to school here and this is the thanks I get?” you firmly stood your ground. “Yes, Trent, I know I’m not there. I know that. And god, I miss you more than anything—”

“Then come.”

“Jesus Christ, Trent, I can’t!”

You shook your head and sat up on your bed once more. You could only be thankful that you lived alone in your off-campus apartment, with all the back and forth you were having. “You can’t come here, and I can’t go there. That was the understanding when we agreed to make things work,” you lectured. “And trust me, it hurts me too. Fuck, it hurts to see people I don’t even know with their boyfriends. So don’t act like you’re the only one who’s hurting from this.”

“If this is making it work, then I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Trent—”

“I’m just,” he shook his head, “god, I’m tired of this.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, the fear of what he’d say next slowly beginning to tear at your heartstrings. Although you hadn’t seen much of each other in recent years, Trent meant the world to you. He’d done just about everything in his power to keep you happy before he moved. And even after, he tried to see you as much as he could; as much as time would allow.

So the thought of what he might’ve been getting at made you sick to your stomach.

“You cannot put this on me,” you told him through the phone, fingers tightly gripped around the metal as if dropping it would make you lose him for good. “You have no. Right,” you swallowed, nostrils flared and teeth gritted. “It’s so fucking unfair.”

“You know what’s unfair?” His question lingered in the air, and you kept your mouth shut. It wasn’t something that you were meant to answer. So you waited.

“Being forgotten.”

And that was your final straw.

“Fuck you,” you sobbed, a tear cascading down your cheek. “If this whole long-distance thing wasn’t enough for you, then you should’ve just broken it off before.”

“I just wanted to see you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one that left you, Trent.”

Your phone was face down on the bed almost instantly after you hung up. Any emotions you were desperately trying to suppress came to the surface, bringing you to tears as you buried your face into your knees. It all finally came to a head, and you couldn’t bear the outcome. Heavy sobs left your lips, pried relentlessly from your throat as guilt ripped through you. Your body refused to let up for even a second; not until every last drop of emotion was ripped from you.

And finally, once it was, you lay restless in your bed until morning, mind unable to escape the intruding idea of never seeing him again.

Hours turned into days, days into weeks of not hearing from him. Since that night, you began to work yourself harder, picking up hours to fill up the time you’d be alone. You couldn’t let yourself think about it, or else you’d break.

It had been almost a month since. You heard a knock on your door as you were headed for the bathroom, about to shower after another long shift. You were prepared for it to be another one of your friends. They’d been showing up at your door for days, trying to break you out of your funk, which only irritated you further. You sighed and tightened your robe, then walked to the door and swiftly opened it.

“For the last time, I’m fine—”

It wasn’t your friends.

Surprise laced your expression. Trent was standing on the other side of the doorway, hands stuffed into his pockets. His body was tense as he stood silently.

“Trent,” you finally whispered.

He stepped closer, eyes boring into yours when your head tilted back to look at him. His lips parted to speak, but you gave him no such chance when you threw your arms around him. Any emotions that you’d suppressed immediately surfaced, tears streaming down your cheeks as you buried your face into his chest.

“Shh,” he cooed, hands rubbing gently up and down your back.

His hand came up to your cheek when you pulled back, using his thumb to gently wipe it dry. The warmth of his touch radiated through the skin and you felt a sense of familiarity, of comfort being in his hold again.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried softly, your arms tightening around his midsection.

“God, no, don’t,” he hesitated, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “please, don’t apologize. None of this is your fault.”

He frowned, “It’s mine. I shouldn’t have acted like such a baby.”

“But I just got angry. I didn’t even consider how you’d—”

“Hey,” he sternly interrupted, pulling your body into his. “This was on me. I knew how busy you’d be when we decided to stay together. I was upset that I couldn’t see you and I blamed you for that,” he breathed. “You didn’t deserve that. Not after everything you’ve done to make this work. I didn’t do my part.”

Another tear fell from your eye, burning the skin in its path. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel like this wasn’t real anymore,” you frowned.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just…dumb.”

“And I blamed you for leaving when you had no choice.”

He sighed deeply, urging your head to his chest. “It’s only a month left until you’re out, right?” he asked and you nodded, confirming his inquiry. “Okay. So we only have to tough out one more month of this…And then it’s over.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” you finally spoke, leaning into him. “I am, too.”

You finally leaned up to kiss him and he quickly reciprocated, pulling your chest flush against his. His head craned to the side, deepening the kiss and turning it into something more than just making up lost time. You jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist. He hummed against your lips, fingers gripping the underside of your thighs to support your weight.

“I was about to,” you muttered between kisses, “shower.”

“Explains the robe.”

He began walking forward, carrying you down the hallway as you remained perched on his waist. The soft material of the robe slid off of your thighs, exposing them to the cool air and allowing you to feel his bare palms around them. The ring that sat on his right index finger dug into the soft skin as he reached the door to your bathroom.

“Got room for one more?” he teased as he lowered you to your feet.

“Maybe,” you giggled in response, hands resting atop his shoulders. “Who’s asking?”

His fingers toyed with the belt on your robe, slowly beginning to loosen it around your waist. He lowered his head, forehead nearly touching yours, and softened his voice, “Someone who hasn’t been alone with his girlfriend in a long time.”

“Hm,” you considered, fingers dancing along the back of his neck, “I think something can be arranged, then.”

The robe’s soft fabric fell open as he let go and brought his hands to his shirt, removing it in one go. With that, you slipped the rest off and stepped into the shower, then quickly turned on the water as he rid himself of the rest of his clothing. As you waited, you shampooed your hair, thoroughly rinsing it out and basking in the warmth of the water over you.

It wasn’t long before the curtain opened and in stepped Trent, who had discarded all but his silver chain, including the ring he wore just moments before.

“God, have you gotten bigger?” you asked, hands traveling up his arms. “Or has it been that long?”

“Maybe you’ve just gotten smaller.”

You rolled your eyes promptly, chuckling softly before leaning up to kiss him again, allowing the hot water to cascade slowly down your back. You flipped your bodies around and his hair grew darker as it slowly dampened, curls dissipating as they flattened atop his head. You were quick to run your hands along his upper body, palms grazing the skin of his chest down to his stomach. Your touch earned a groan of approval from his lips as you and your body swiftly moved down.

Down to your knees, even, right in front of him.

A few soft, teasing kisses were pressed to his tip before you drew his cock into your warm mouth. A large hand snaked into your hair, roughly gripping the wet strands as he turned just slightly, back now facing the wall. The hot water coated his body, allowing your lips to glide smoothly along his length, teeth lightly grazing the skin.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he drawled, hand setting your pace as the steam from the water rose up around you.

Slowly, he began to pump his hips, tip hitting the back of your throat with each gentle thrust. His head drew back, pressing against the cool, wet tile as he sucked air through his teeth. Your nose nearly came into contact with his pubic bone as you took as much of him as your mouth would allow. But as much as he would’ve wanted to, he refrained from forcing you down.

Instead, he relished in the feeling of your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock again for the first time in months.

Deep breaths left his mouth in the form of groans, his lips parted and face contorting with pleasure. Soon his head was off the wall again as he looked down, driven wild by the sight before him—his girlfriend on her knees in front of him, looking back up at him through tattered lashes, sporting stains of mascara that ran down her cheeks.

It was nearly enough to send him over, and you felt him growing more tense. The grip on your hair tightened as he sped up your pace just slightly, a choked moan escaping your lips and humming against his skin. His free hand darted out and pressed firmly against the fogged glass door, aiding him in maintaining any sort of composure he could conjure up.

Just as he was about to warn you of how close he was, you slid him out of your mouth. When your eyes flitted up, they were met with his disapproving glance, chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply.

“Why did you stop?”

“To irritate you,” you scrunched your nose. “But mostly to tease you.”

Light kisses were intricately pressed to his tip, the action just perfectly denying him enough sensation to fulfill his needs. But enough to make him ache with want, with need; the need of release. Of breaking the taut line holding him together. He was on the brink, and you knew it, but you were denying him.

How cruel.

Maybe it was a form of payback for the argument he started a few weeks before. For making you think you were broken up for all that time. Something like that, he convinced himself. All he knew was that you had every intention of making him wait, and he had no choice but to accept it.

“Mm,” you hummed, the fingers of one hand curling around his length and the others around his thigh as your lips trailed the same torturous kisses down to the base and back up. His hand brushed through the dripping wet strands of dark ginger hair atop his head, feet planted deeply into the floor below him.

Unfortunately for you, he wasn’t the only one who craved his release. And fortunately for him, you were finally willing to give him the satisfaction.

So you drew just the head back into your warm mouth, tongue swirling around the swollen area tactfully. Soft lips glided along his skin as you slid them further down on him, and the line finally snapped like a twig. The aftermath flooded your senses, his taste gathering on your tongue as the sound of his groans filled your ears.

And his traces went smoothly down your throat with a prompt swallow.

“Fuck,” he finally managed, eyes following you as you rose to your feet.

“That,” you started, licking the remainder from the corner of your mouth, “was for that phone call.”

“Yeah?” he asked, a smirk settling in on his face.

“Mhm,” was your sharp-tongued response, bringing a grin to his lips. You reached for the conditioner, “And you deserved it.”

He nodded as you squeezed a bit into your hand, afterward lathering it in your hair. He brought his hands up to your head and tilted it back, using his fingers to rinse out the cream gently.

“Maybe I did,” Trent hoisted you up, an involuntary gasp falling from your lips.

“—But now it’s my turn.”

Your back pressed against the cool tile as he turned your bodies to the side, water now hitting him at an angle as he pinned you up. You breathed out sharply from the force at which you hit the wall, lips parting as your gaze fell on his grin-inhabited face.

The heat formed beads of sweat on both you and Trent’s foreheads, mixing with the hot water as it continued to fall behind his body. He leaned up and connected his lips with yours, a hand running through your equally wet strands before sliding down your tense figure. The other locked fingers with your own and roughly pressed the back of your hand against the tile above your head, drawing a needy moan from your throat.

Your free hand slid up his front and came into contact with the cold, wet metal of his chain. God, you loved it. And he knew it, which was why he never took it off at moments like this; whether it was the tag tapping against your cheek as he thrust into you or it pressing into your skin as your back arched against him, or even just the sight of it poking out from under his shirts, it set you ablaze, similar to many other things about him. Like his hair. Or his hands.

Or the head of his cock as it dragged along your soaked folds, teasing you until you begged for more.

Which, oddly enough, was exactly what was happening to you then.

“Trent—fuck,” the words weakly fell, “please.”

His lips were at your neck, working the soft, damp skin just as you did to his body just minutes before, only now the added pressure of him at your entrance came into play.

“What is it, hm?” he mumbled, trailing down to your collarbones and back up.

“Need to feel you,” you breathed heavily, “now.”

Lips stretched into a grin against your skin just before he pushed himself into you, allowing you to sink down onto him properly. Your hands quickly lifted and tenaciously gripped his shoulders for stability. His head lifted from your neck and fell back, mouth open as he exhaled deeply from the pressure of you enveloping him. He was hardening at an unfaltering rate from the sensation, and his mind was running a mile a minute.

Because no effort he made to relieve himself when he was alone could ever replace the feeling of your inner walls constricting around him.

And fuck, did he miss that feeling.

Finally, your boyfriend was buried inside you again. Finally, he was stretching you out again, occupying every last inch of space that your body would allow. The feeling was all too familiar, but that was what you loved most; how perfectly he fit you, and how it was still able to make you see stars, regardless of how many times you’d felt it before.

His hips instantly moved in a controlled rhythm, leaving no time to exchange pleasantries. Hard thrusts drove your vulnerable body up the wall, large hands now having moved to your hips, fingers pressing firmly into the wet skin.

He wasn’t going to waste any time taking things slower, softer as he normally would. Oh, no—there was no time for that. He needed you oh, so desperately at that moment—to take you. Hard. Fast. That’s what months of deprivation did to a guy like him; a guy who hadn’t felt the touch of his girlfriend in so long that it hurt.

Luckily for him, he wasn’t the only one starving with want.

So the payoff was all the sweeter for the both of you as each torturous thrust forced the tip of his strained, desperate cock to brush just against the right spot within you. Various expletives filled the fogged air of the bathroom, sounding in the form of your weakened voice. Nail-shaped craters formed on the skin of his back while he roughly pistoned his hips forward and back, relentlessly pushing your back against the slick wall behind you.

“So glad you live alone and not on that fucking school ground,” he mumbled, pressing kisses to your exposed shoulder.

Usually, he was more gentle with you, and you’d grown accustomed to that. You liked it that way. But you couldn’t deny how much you loved, in contradiction, the times he decided that gentle wasn’t enough. That it simply wouldn’t do. When all he could think of was the burning desire to pin you to the wall and fuck you dumb with pleasure because he was so damn starved from not seeing you as often as he should. Because he knew better than anyone else that you could take it.

You’d no doubt have prints on your back from the incessant pressure of him pressing you against the tile behind you, and you briefly considered the thought. It left your mind quicker than it came, however, because it wouldn’t be the only thing left behind on your body from the exchange that night.

They’d pair nicely with the marks that extended from your neck to your collarbones.

“Close, Trent,” you muttered, head falling forward and resting atop his shoulder. “I’m…fuck, I’m close.”

A phrase that had become so familiar to him, so routine, as if it were some sort of perverted Bible verse you’d been trained to memorize. One that he’d never get sick of hearing because he knew that every time he was the reason for it.

Of course, you didn’t have to say it, because he already knew you were there. And if you weren’t, someone ought to have explained to him why you felt so tight, all of a sudden.

“Come on, baby,” the words rolled off his tongue languidly, “let go.”

So you did, clenching around him and crying out with a weakness that laced your voice. White hot pleasure surged through your body as he fucked you through it, his thick cock continuing to provide you more pleasure with each calculated thrust than any store-bought substitute could manage. Calloused fingers grasped urgently at the swell of your hips, the hold on you firm enough to keep you stable as you shattered around him for what felt like the first time in years.

Not a moment was wasted before ropes of hot liquid emptied into your stomach, thoroughly coating your waiting, sensitive inner walls. A satisfied groan exited his lips, the sound low in your ear, and you were sure it was the hottest thing you’d ever heard. A hand traveled up to his wet locks, pushing his head forward and allowing your mouth to envelope his in a deep kiss as his hips slowly, carefully came to a stop.

His tongue explored your mouth as if it had never been in its vicinity before, head tilting to give himself easier access. Meanwhile, he pulled out and began to lower you down, the muscles in his arms straining as they held you up for support. Your feet were once again planted on the wet, slippery floor of the shower as your spent body remained still between his large frame and the tiled wall behind you.

He pulled away and stepped back, sliding his hands off you as he turned the knob behind him to increase the water’s temperature. Then, he moved in the stream’s direction, arms reaching outward and pulling you toward him. Your back quickly came into contact with his firm chest, metal pressing against the now patterned skin as his hands placed themselves atop your slick skin.

A pair of soft lips peppered gentle kisses from your neck down to your shoulder, fingers rising to brush your hair away. The scalding hot water hit his back and extended to your exposed shoulder blades, effectively relaxing the tense muscles of your worked bodies. After all, it had been quite the bit of time since either of you had been in such a position.

“I love you,” he murmured, lips brushing against the skin of your ear as his hands ran down along your arms beside you.

Your head fell back against his chest, “I love you, too.”

He leaned down to press another kiss to your lips, arms wrapping around your waist and his hands finding purchase on your stomach, allowing him to inch your body closer to his. Both his and your eyes then fell shut as you settled into him.

It was all so…intimate; intimate in large contrast to the last time you spoke to him before he showed up at your door looking for forgiveness. And of course, he received it, because the whole disagreement was fueled by the sole fact that he simply missed the woman he loved.

The same woman who stood in his embrace as they fell into a comfortable silence, minds focused only on the sound of the water and the steam slowly rising around them.

#trent frederic #trent frederic fic #trent frederic imagine #trent frederic smut #trent frederic x reader #boston bruins imagine #boston bruins #hockey fic #hockey #fanfic #t. frederic

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notsopersonalcharlie · 7 months

Text

Mid-Game Superstitions

(American) Football Star!Bucky Barnes x gn!reader

Note: Based on this idea I had watching the game last night and inspired by the fact that I like watching the sports ball sometimes. I'd apologize for the length but I wouldn't really mean it :)

You were nervous as all hell, nearly bit off your press ons in the car. It had been pandemonium when you arrived with the other partners, some of the wives coming with their kids in separate cars, but most of you all together. A few of them had done it before, been to a Super Bowl as the second most important people in the stadium, and Peggy had clasped a hand around your forearm as you stepped out of the limo.

You were glad for the anchor against all of the screaming. To your surprise people weren't just screaming for Peggy, or Sam's supermodel girlfriend, but they knew you too. It was delightful if not a little off-putting as you all posed to people screaming your name each of you wearing some form of the team's colors, red, white, and blue.

You'd gotten used to the hubbub of metal detectors and being ushered in a pack of security guards up to the box designated for all of you. Once things had calmed down, and you'd all taken copious numbers of photos and got drinks, you slipped away from the people you'd well and truly decided were your friends after a year of breathless wins and harrowing injuries, and made your way over to one of the security guards by the door. There were two at the door and one moving around the room, just in case anyone got by the first two.

"Uhm, excuse me?" The man turned. He was massive, but you were no more intimidated by him than by Bucky or any of the other equally massive players on the team. You'd learned through the season that the sweeter you were, the quicker you got things.

"What can I do for you?"

"I usually go down to meet my husband outside the locker room during half time. I just wanted to make sure there was an easy way to get there and that you knew beforehand!" Usually that's all it took, a smile and a little shrug. Today though, the man frowned and leaned back out the door to say something to his partner, you didn't catch it all, but he said something about security and concerns. When he turned back around he was still frowning.

"I'm sorry, I have to check with the rest of the security team. They're running things a little militant around here."

"Oh, I know a thing or two about militant! Bucky and Steve were in the Army before they joined the league. I'm sure there will be some way we can make it happen." You hoped you sounded confident, but not too forceful. You were already antsy from not being able to see him right before the game like normal, but you knew this was not a normal game. He nodded with a small smile and stepped outside, the door closing behind him. You loitered there, glancing back at the rest of the teams partners, many of whom had looked back over at you and given you hopeful thumbs ups.

It hadn't seemed like a big thing in the beginning of the season, the stop by the locker room at half time. It was Steve's fourth season in the league, second as first string quarterback. Bucky had played tight end in high school and college, and Steve had practically begged when the Commandos were planning their draft picks to get his best friend on the team. He would have done anything to keep Bucky playing, that included letting you sneak down to give him a mid-game pep talk and kiss.

It wasn't until it was clear they were going to the playoffs that the players and their partners noticed that the games you weren't there or the games where you weren't able to follow through with the ritual between the halves, the Howling Commandos would lose. It wasn't a perfect measure, and it didn't even seem like the team played worse when you weren't down there, it was just like there was one missing piece.

The door reopened and the man seemed surprised to see you still standing there.

"I'm really sorry, but we've been told we're not allowed to take anyone down there between the game. There's too much chaos with the half time show dancers and teams." You floundered for an excuse, but 'they're going to lose if I don't' seemed pretty weak, so you were left standing there when he closed the door.

"Darling? What did they say?" You turned to meet Peggy's eye and shook your head.

"Oh dear." Most of the rest of the box seemed to have caught on and pats on the back were accompanied by nervous looks. Even though it had been your ritual with Bucky, it had kind of become the whole team's ritual. Peggy said Steve had mentioned that it wasn't that Bucky played worse when you didn't go down, it was his dark expression and lack of usual energy and camaraderie that brought them all down.

"I'm sure it'll be ok!" someone's wife called, "They're going to be so caught up in the game that they won't even have time to dwell on it. They've been practicing so hard." Before you could have too long a thought about it, they were called your attention back to the field and you watched them run out onto the field, all of you hooting and hollering as you saw your boys get on the field.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Bucky was ecstatic coming off the field during the half time. They were up by one touchdown and the energy was electric, every single move gained praise.

"Everyone take ten, do not, and I repeat! Do Not! Think about sitting for longer than five of those minutes. We'll huddle up then." Coach Fury lived up the name, but he kept them all ready to play.

"Buck, you are a beast out there man! Insane!" Sam practically bowled him over with the unexpected chest bump.

"Me? What about you!" Bucky gathered up a bottle of water and Gatorade, wiping away sweat and grass stains before slipping off down the hall to the way they had come in. There were a few people loitering around and security by the load, but he didn't spot you.

"Scuse me." One of the security guards turned and his eyes widened.

"Ma-Sir, you have to go back in the locker room."

"Oh, I'm just checking if my partner came down here. They usually do. Black jeans, shirt with my name on the back?"

"Sorry sir, we aren't allowed to let anyone but the half time crew in here. No one was allowed down." Bucky frowned.

"But-" He was cut off by loud music and the security guard shook his head, practically backing him towards the locker room again. Steve couldn't help but spot Bucky hanging his head and nearly swore out loud. He knew that look.

-/-/-/-/-/-

When all was said and done, they had fought hard, but the other team had a few last tricks up their sleeve. All of you had made your way down to the back doorway, where the players had come in and gone out, and were waiting for your freshly showered, if not very dejected football players. Bucky and Steve were nearly always the last ones out of the locker room, and Peggy and you waited patiently as they began to stream out. Sam was the first to say it, but it came like a steady stream after.

"They shoulda let you down here." It wasn't a specific blame, not on Bucky and not on you, but mid-game rituals were habits, and the habit might have cost the team the game. Finally, very last, you spotted the duo coming out, hair wet and heads handing.

"Hey peach," Bucky sighed, falling into your open arms and pressing his face into your neck.

"Hi Buck. You played great." He mumbled something against the hem of your shirt that sounded something like 'could'a played better' and you kissed the top his head, the smell of his conditioner reminding you of home.

"Next time," Steve said as he and Peggy began to walk away, "Next time I am telling the security team that you gotta come down no matter what." You could feel Bucky smile.

"Next time," he said as he pulled himself away from you, "If they don't let you come down, I'm coming up."

"Next time Buck." He leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to your lips.

"Let's go home."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #football star!bucky #charliewrites #marvel #mcu #Sebastian stan #notsopersonalcharlie

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braden-holtbys · 6 months

Text

Back To Me

A/N: Hi it's me, back on my bs again! Here's another fic I've been working on. It's a bit rushed, but please let me know if a part two is wanted and/or if I should make more fics!

Warnings: angst( ?), maybe a bit of depression

Daniel Ricciardo x reader - more is under the cut!

“Y/N, I'm sorry. I can’t keep doing this,” Daniel said abruptly, moving his cup closer and using the straw to swirl the ice. He tried to not make any eye contact with you, he knew those words cut you deep. You sat there shocked, your jaw practically dropped to the ground. “I’m so sorry Y/N. I think we just got caught up in our romantic feelings and we’ve become so busy with each other and our jobs. Maybe it’s just that this is a distraction….”

“Danny, can- can we talk about this? Think it over?.” you asked while trying to not cry, choking on your words. You didn’t want to make a big scene while you two were at your favorite cafe. Those memories? Gone.

“I’m so, so sorry Y/N,” he replied quietly, frowning and still avoidant. “I need to get back to practice.” Just like that, he got up and left you alone. You watched as he left the cafe, seemingly with no regret, no looking back.

I can make you mad

I can make you scream

I can make you cry

I can make you leave

I can make you hate me

For everything

But I can't make you come back to me

Ricciardo, Daniel Ricciardo. That was about seven months ago and since then you’ve struggled to make it day to day without that sunshine of yours. You missed his laugh, his smile, those big brown eyes of his, everything… Three and a half years down the drain in a single moment because of what? You being a distraction? You’ve seen posts here and there on your socials speculating that that might’ve been encouraged by his press officer. Lots of comments saying the same thing like ‘Way to get rid of the distraction,’ ‘Y’all did them dirty,’ ‘They were so happy together and he was doing well’ stuff like that.

You still kept in contact with some of the other wives and girlfriends of the other drivers. In fact, you were somewhat close with Alex’s and George’s girlfriends, and occasionally they’d come over to your flat in Barcelona to help cheer you up. You were studying abroad in Spain trying to get your masters in mechanical engineering, focusing on automotive mechanics. It was tough for sure, but you managed. It seemed that every time you watched a race since the break up, he’s been struggling too, you can see it in his demeanor. His teammates and other drivers seemed to give him shit for breaking up with you. Little did you know that it was actually the idea of his press officer. There were days where you’d lay in bed staring at the ceiling wondering where you went wrong. No doubt, the both of you actually missed each other, but unbeknownst to you, he desperately wanted you by his side again. You, on the other hand, actually wondered if he was doing the same thing, staying up and thinking about you.

The girls came over to the flat to get you out of the place, get a breath of fresh air, soak up the beautiful sunshine. They were so worried about you and how you struggled to care for yourself.

“Aw girls, you didn’t have to take me out to the spa! I mean it!,” You exclaimed, you just didn’t want them to worry so much.

“Y/N please don’t worry about it! We want what’s best for you,” Carmen replied, Lily nodded as she agreed.

“Plus, he’s been depressed and struggling as much as you have,” Lily added. “I truly think that this wasn’t his idea, but rather a forced one.”

“Ya think? I mean it could be possible.” You replied quietly. “When’s the next race? I have a break coming up this week.”

“Uhhh-”

“I believe this week actually, here in Barcelona,” Carmen interjected before Lily could reply.

“Oh shit that’s right. Mind if I tag along with the both of you?,” you asked, some hope in your voice. You saw their eyes light up as they squealed in happiness. It was like they were waiting for you to make that move.

Called me all day

But I never pick up

Instead of pulling my weight

Always pushing my luck

You gave me all that I could take

Yeah, I took it all for granted

Head up in the clouds

Yeah, I never understand it

—

“What movie did you wanna watch love?,” Daniel asked as you sat down on the couch and cuddled with him.

“Um I’m good with pretty much anything, just no horror,” you chuckled as you watched him flip through the channels. Nothing really jumped out to either of you.

“Do you just wanna watch an anime movie or something like that?,” he ended up asking.

“Of course,” you whispered with a smile. You could feel his body vibrate as he chuckled.

That memory always stuck with him for whatever reason. Maybe it was because it was a long race week and he didn’t do so hot. It might’ve been that his season with McLaren was so stressful on him, plus the stress of being on Red Bull and Renault that had followed him.

“Hellooooooooooooooo—--,” Lando blurted as he waved a hand in front of Daniel’s face. “Earth to Danielllllllll.” Daniel had snapped out of his daydream.

“What’s up?,” He asked as he looked up at Lando from his seat.

“You good? You’ve been staring off into space and daydreaming a bunch, man. Whatcha thinking about?,” Lando had asked.

“Uhhhhhh,” Daniel started. He didn’t want to admit that he was thinking about you, but… “Just thinking about Y/N.”

“Dude it’s been a while. Have you spoken to her lately or nah?,” he asked as he took a seat next to the Aussie. Daniel shook his head ‘no’ even though he has thought about it several times in the last seven months. “You know, I heard through a couple birdies that she might show up to the Spanish grand prix.”

“Where’d you get that info?,” the Aussie immediately asked, looking at the youngster as if he was speaking another language. Alas, the young one had the widest grin on his face.

“I’m not allowed to say…,” He chuckled. “But, just know that I’m rooting for you both to get back together. Honestly, we all are dude. We can tell that you’ve been off since then.” He felt so nervous at the thought of seeing you again, it almost made him nauseous yet excited. God, he so desperately wanted to see you again and apologize for the pain and the fuck up.

He missed your smile, your voice, the way you carried yourself with confidence, your smarts, everything. He missed the way you looked at him after his races, no matter how he did, you had a sparkle in your eyes only for him.

“Anyways, I’m gonna get some food. Want anything?,” Lando asked as he got up from his spot.

“Nah I’m good. Thanks man,” Daniel replied as he smiled.

He understands that your education comes first, but he wishes that you’d finish already so you could be by his side at the paddock with whatever team he’s on. Daniel knew that when he sees you, you both have to talk and that he won't let you go ever again. He’s struggled to sleep at night, his house empty without the love of his life.

It was a surprise that neither of you blocked each other on anything, but you guessed that the other wasn’t interested in that. Rather it was like you both were interested in getting back into each other’s life.

—-

I remember thinking

I don't need you

But then time passed by

And it's so untrue

Now I'm the rain over your parade

Reason you're over me

Yeah, I always keep making the same mistakes

Maybe I never deserved you anyways

You counted down the days until the Grand Prix came around. Your phone started to ding every so often as you got texts from the girls, but what startled you is that Daniel started to text you again. He’d occasionally send a ‘hey’ or ‘how have you been?’, but what threw you off was when he suddenly asked if he could call. Honestly you’ve just been ignoring his texts because at this point, it’s been eight months since your break up.

He got the point, yet he still persisted like the badger he is. You were alarmed by your phone suddenly ringing. You rolled over in bed to look at it - ‘Danny </3’. Rolling your eyes, you let it go to voicemail.

‘What the hell? Why is he calling me now?’

The phone rang again, but this time you finally picked up.

“Um… hello?,” You asked reluctantly. “I’m surprised you didn’t get rid of my number.” He chuckled, and God, you missed that so much.

“Hello to you too Y/N,” Daniel responded as he cleared his throat. “I’m glad that you picked up.” “What’s up?,” You asked, trying to not sound angry or annoyed.

“I- I know it’s been a while since we last saw each other. I really wanna talk to you because I really fucked up,” he replied, almost seeming like he was going to cry. “I made a really bad mistake.”

“Oh really? You don’t say Danny,” you stated, rolling your eyes at the obvious.

“Look, obviously things didn’t go as we had wanted, and I want to talk to you about it. I’m in town tomorrow and have some free time before practice. Let’s meet up at the cafe near your flat, yeah?,” He asked with some hope in his voice. “Are you free too?”

“Uhhh, yes I am actually.”

“Great I’ll shoot you a text and see ya tomorrow.”

“That’s fine.”

As soon as the call ends, he shoots a text with the time and place. Pits were forming in your stomach, like butterflies wanting to fly away. Tomorrow couldn’t be here any sooner and you wanted to tell him off, but also tell him that you needed him so bad.

I can make you mad

I can make you scream

I can make you cry

I can make you leave

I can make you hate me

For everything

But I can't make you

Come back to me

I can make a world

Out of broken dreams

I can make you say things

You don't mean

I can unmake

All we were made to be

But I can't make you come back to me

The next day rolled around, and you felt so nervous as that pit never left your stomach, but at least you felt cute in your favorite summer dress. It was a pink, knee length dress with strawberry prints and spaghetti straps. You sat in the corner of the cafe, a booth that was quiet and somewhat secluded from the rest of the place. It felt like an eternity waiting for him to come around as you fucked around on your phone. Not even five minutes passed and Daniel finally showed up, sliding into the seat.

“Hey Danny, long time no see,” You said quietly with a small smile. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I really wanted to say that I’m sorry for breaking up with you. It hurt me then, it hurts me still, and it was a mistake. My- my press officer thought that this relationship was too distracting for me and was hindering my results. I thought it was a fucked up thing to do, and I will always regret this because at the time - I guess it would be best for the both of us,” Danny explained, tears already in your eyes.

“I was holding you back? That’s rich coming from them,” you scoffed at the mere fact that the press officer really thought that. “I’m sorry that they thought about us like that.”

“Don’t be,” he replied. “I realized some time after that they were just creating drama in order for me to get better results.”

“Look Danny,” you started, “I’m sure we could’ve worked this out sooner. Maybe if we just put in a bit more effort and communication, then maybe - I don’t know. Maybe I just don’t understand why I was the breaking point…,” you trailed off, almost crying because you felt defeated. Danny moved over to your side of the booth to comfort you, lifting up your chin to make you look at those dreamy eyes of his. They longed for you, and no one else.

“Y/N,” He started to say, an apologetic tone in his voice. “I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. Honestly, I was miserable without you and our home feels so empty without you. I want you back so bad. Would you be interested in trying again?” You looked at him in shock, unable to say much at the moment, and it was like the whole cafe went silent. Time felt like it was moving slowly, just for you both.

“Y- Well, I - Yes, I would like to try again, but …,” You were hesitant. “However, it seems that there are things we both need to work on. I’d like for the both of us to work on it together, only if that’s okay with you.” He gave you the widest smile ever, something you haven’t seen in forever, especially something so genuine.

“I’d love that,” Daniel whispered as he put his forehead on yours.

Calling all day

Tryna make things right

Just to fuck it all up

When I see you tonight

Since you told me hit the road

I've been running on empty

If anything I know

It's how to ruin a happy ending

I remember when you still needed me

Don't know how I let it go so easily

Now I'm the cloud to your sunny days

Reason you run away

Don't know how I keep making the same mistakes

Maybe I never deserved you anyway

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x you #daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo x reader #f1 x female reader

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bitchinbarzal · 2 years

Note

Okay but like can we please get the part two of Mat and Mama’s fight 🥺 that broke my heart

Mat had been riddled with guilt all day long. After practice when he’d returned home to relieve Lola, your nanny of her duties with the kids.

Ivy hadn’t said much to him, silently avoiding him.

When he put Ryder down for his afternoon nap he found Ivy sitting in the living room watching Bluey on the tv.

“Hey Princess”

She looks up at him from her pile of blankets, clutching her Sparky stuffed teddy

“Hi daddy” she mumbles, her eyes never leave the screen.

He sits next to her, arm draped over the back of the couch.

“You wanna talk about what’s going on in that lil head of yours?” Mat asks, poking her head which pulls a giggle from Ivy.

She looks up at him, your eyes looking back at him as she asked “Are you and mommy not love each other anymore?”

Mat’s heart broke and he let out a shaky breath “Of course not baby, I love mommy so much”

“Why do you shout then?”

“I don’t know princess… I guess I’m just upset with mommy sometimes and that’s ok! You get upset with Ry sometimes, right?” He nudges her and she shrugs

“I guess”

“Well sometimes me and mommy get mad at one another but that doesn’t mean I don’t love her” he explains and Ivy hums in response

“I love your mommy so much ives, no matter what! Momma could be so mad at me and I’m still gonna love her so so much because she’s my best friend in the whole wide world”

The little girls head quirks to the side “she’s your best friend? I thought that was uncle Tito?”

Mat’s head shakes “Mama’s my best friend forever”

Ivy seems satisfied with his answer and goes back to her show.

That night there’s a game at the rock so you won’t be home until late. The kids don’t typically go to devils games unless one of the wives or girlfriends take them, it’s a somewhat established rule that Mathew should not attend Devils games as it can be seen as disrespectful to the islanders organization.

So it was a pleasant surprise to Ivy when Mat tells her to get ready after dinner, both kids are dressed in a devils jersey with their last name on it and the number 13.

Ryder’s in a carrier on Mathew’s chest while he sits in the stands next to a very excited Ivy who keeps telling everyone “My mommy’s on the bench! She’s a doctor!”

And “I know them! That’s my uncle Nico!”

There were a few confused and excited hockey fans when they saw him. The in house event team were having a field day once the puck dropped.

The jumbotron panned over to your family at one point and you were too busy watching the game so Nathan shouted

“Hey Barzal! Tell ivy we love the support!”

You frown until Jesper points you up to the jumbo tron. There is Mat, Ivy and Ryder all smiling and Ivy’s holding a sign that says

Go Devils, Go! + Mommy!

You smile and shake your head “That family of mine”

Once the game ends you make your way to the medical room to see to those boys choosing to come down who ends up being Vitek, Jesper and Nico.

“I saw the kids out there tonight” Nico mumbles while you do stretches on his leg.

You smile “Yeah i saw them on the jumbotron, Mat must’ve brought them — I told them to go home Ry would’ve been asleep second period and Ivy looked like she was so close to sleep”

It’s late by the time you get home, the light in your bedroom is the only one on. You shrug off your coat and take off your shoes before tiptoeing up to Ivy’s room and kissing her sleeping head then into Ryder’s room to do the same.

By the time you enter your bedroom Mat is sitting up in bed waiting for you. You don’t say anything, slipping into the bathroom to shower and changing into your pyjamas.

Once you’re finished and re-enter your bedroom Mathew is still sitting there just looking at you.

“What’re you staring at?” You question, slipping in under the sheets.

Mat smiles “My beautiful wife”

You Huff “If that’s your way of apologizing, it’s shitty”

He frowns, pulling your hand into his and angling his body towards you

“You’re my best friend, I love you and I’m sorry”

His words, while not long were heavy and you knew he meant them.

You don’t respond, he doesn’t need a reply. Instead you let go of his hand and shimmy down so your head is rested on the pillow, Mat does the same.

You’re both facing one another and he leans over to kiss you slow, your emotions pour into the simple kiss.

Every ounce of anger, sadness, lust and happiness poured into each other. Mat’s hand gripped the back of your thigh and urged you to flip on top of him, straddling his waist.

Once the two of you pulled away, giggling like school children You mumbled “Thank You for bringing them tonight, it meant the world to me”

“Lou’s definitely gonna kick my ass tomorrow, but it’s worth it — you’re worth it baby”

“I love you, mat”

“I love you, angel”

#life with ivy #mat barzal imagine #life of ivy #mat and mama

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positiveglitchexists · 1 year

Text

Affirmations

Warnings: Swearing, a bit angsty at some parts, Mention of anxious movements (Shaking hands)

Notes: I have rewritten this several times so I hope it comes out better this time? I think I'm a bit off because I haven't written in awhile.. So think of this as a warm up fic!! If you find any mistakes message me so I can fix em :D

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"I really tried to stop the thoughts, but I can't help but feel like everyone is annoyed by my every move and it's just.. Overwhelming."

Puffy frowned as she nodded, writing something down in her notebook. Tommy swallowed as his hands shook a bit, he eventually connected his hands together and stared at the room he was in.

Today was his therapy session with Puffy. On most days, he was outside for these sessions but this time they met in a small room with white walls. A wooden desk stood against one of the white walls, two orange chairs were seated across from each other, one of the chairs, the one Tommy was sitting in, was the closest to the door while Puffy sat directly across from him

He thinks Puffy is still talking but his eyes are slowly drifting off to the wall in the corner of the room..

"..But Positive affirmations is a good start!" Puffy spoke with a reassuring smile but Tommy blinked and then blinked again.. Before he rubbed his neck nervously but Puffy simply tilted her head, not seeming that surprised.

"You weren't paying attention again huh?" Tommy huffed, "I was! But then you started talking about stuff and I noticed the walls chipping.." He quickly realized that wasn't helping his case and he gave a sheepish smile.

It wasn't his fault! It wasn't that he hated therapy, it actually helped pretty well! But he couldn't help but focus on the white walls chipping in the corner. There was this white wall with blue flowers underneath it and he really wondered why they covered that up with a plain boring white-

Puffy interrupted his thoughts as she crossed her arms, "Uh huh.. Well Mr. Big man, Since you talked about how negative thoughts seem to be affecting your mind alot, I was talking about how positive affirmations could be a helpful way to combat them!" Tommy blinked, "Positive.. Affirmations?"

Puffy nodded, "Like.. The things people repeat to themselves in mirrors?" Tommy scrunched his face up before Puffy nodded once again, "Yes! Well, technically. Positive affirmations is just saying positive things about yourself so it doesn't have to be in front of a mirror-

Tommy pursed his lips at her explanation, "So like.. Saying how I'm a big man? Because I am truly the biggest of men, ofcourse only after Philza Minecraft, But he has only one wife and I have so many wives-"

Puffy made sure to interrupt before he went into a rant about his many, many 'real' wives and girlfriends, "That's.. Good, but I'm thinking more.. Self centered things. 'I am loved' or 'I am cared for'"

Tommy cringed, "Could I just write them down?" Puffy nodded, "You could but I really recommend saying them outloud-" The alarm on Puffy's communicator went off. Interrupting her and signaling the end of their session.

Puffy reached over and turned the alarm off before sitting back more comfortably and giving a smile to Tommy, "Alright, it's the end of our session for today! We settled for next week alright? So make sure to come on time and please practice-"

Tommy waved his hand as he was already halfway out the door, "I know, I know! See you later Captain pussy!" The door closed and Puffy raised an eyebrow before Tommy opened the door and stuck his head in, "I meant Captain Puffy!" He shut the door once again and Puffy heard the footsteps fade away from her therapy room.

Tommy hummed as he walked along the prime path, quickly making his way over to Philza and Techno's cabin. Positive affirmations.. Sounded.. Okay? He definitely wasn't saying them outloud.

The thought of getting caught by Wilbur or Techno was too embarrassing even for him, Plus.. He didn't really believe in the affirmations.. Puffy reassured him but- He still can't help the negative thoughts from leaking in.

He sighed as he finally got to the door and he slammed the door open with a grin, "IM HOME FUCKERS!" He paused as he waited for a response.

He frowned when nothing was heard, maybe he was home alone- "SHUT UP TOMMY!" Tommy bursted into laughter as Wilbur's voice rang throughout the house, he quickly took a breath to calm his laughter still letting out little giggles before he stopped and headed to his room.

He paused in front of Wilbur's room but quickly shrugged and headed to his, he didn't wanna bother Wilbur.

..Clearly thinking that was a mistake as it seemed to set off a chain reaction of negative thoughts, he swallowed as his thoughts started to overwhelm him. He sat at his desk pulling a red pen and piece of paper out before writing the best he could.

'I am loved.'

He wrote, it felt weird and silly and.. It didn't help all that much. He doesn't believe what he's writing. Wilbur was the only one in the house and he couldn't bother him over a silly thing like this so he continued to write various verses.

On a good note, The writing was grounding him enough to stop his hands from shaking.

He swallowed and kept writing, eventually moving to doodling before he heard quiet footsteps heading to his room and soon enough Wilbur was standing in the doorway.

Wilbur raised an eyebrow, Tommy turned his head up and looked at Wilbur, "Hi Will, Miss me already? I mean I would miss me too-" Tommy grinned but Wilbur looked him up and down before peaking to look at the paper and his eyebrows furrowing.

Before Wilbur could ask, Tommy was already speaking. "Positive affirmations, My therapist recommended them." Tommy tilted his head and Wilbur nodded, "Aren't you supposed to say them outloud?"

Tommy looked at him. Then looked back at his paper then looked back at Wilbur. "She said I could write them down."

"..Why don't you say them outloud?" Wilbur asked curiously and Tommy mumbled, "It's stupid!" Wilbur hummed in response.

"But still shouldn't you do what she originally recommended then?" Tommy sighed before raising an eyebrow, trying to distract Wilbur. "How do you know it's what she said originally-" Wilbur gave him a look and Tommy sighed, more dramatically this time.

"Probably, It's too embarrassing though plus this is working just fine!" Wilbur gestured to the paper, "Tommy, You've begun to doodle Shroud." Tommy smiled, "I love Shroud. Such a good little spider he is!"

Wilbur sighed, "Alright, yknow what Tommyinnit, Say a positive affirmation right now." Tommy blinked before shaking his head, "Huh? No! Didn't you hear me-" Wilbur narrowed his eyes, but a playful tint was shining in his eyes. "If you don't, I'll help you."

Tommy didn't seem to notice, a mistake. "...Huh?" Wilbur grinned and lifted his hands up, his fingers wiggling. "five seconds." Tommy admits it took him a minute but once he realized his eyes widened and he ran as fast as he could out the door, hoping to throw Wilbur off.

He made it past Wilbur and Techno's room, right near the couch before he heard footsteps behind him- That was not five seconds! "WILL YOU FUCKIN LIAR-" He screamed as he was tackled to the ground.

He felt Wilbur place his hand underneath his head as they hit the ground. Once they fell onto the floor properly Wilbur wasted no time in shifting his body to sit on top of Tommy's waist, successfully trapping him.

Wilbur and Tommy play fought alot so the hard wood didn't bother them too much- What did bother Tommy was his brother's wiggling fingers. He struggled with a wobbly smile on his face, "P-Please Will we can talk about this r-right?"

Wilbur put a finger on his chin as he pretended to think before he sighed dramatically. "I'll make you a deal, say some positive things about yourself and I'll let you go."

Tommy blinked, a bit suspicious. "Seriously?" Wilbur had started to slowly glide his fingers up and down over Tommy's clothed sides, the thin shirt did nothing and Tommy made small giggles before he spoke- "Fine- Fine Okay.. I'm the biggest man!"

Tommy looked smug like he found a loophole and Wilbur simply sighed before he dug his fingers into Tommy's sides, Tommy shrieked before loud laughter fell from his mouth and he arched his back as he tried to push Wilbur off, but he wasn't moving.

"That doesn't count! Here I'll help you- Tommy, Your laugh is so so adorable." Tommy's face turned a light pink out of surprise, the pink spreading to the tips of his ears.

"WIHIHILL SHUHUHUT UHUHP-" Wilbur tried to keep a straight face, but the corners of his mouth twitched as he kept skittering his fingers against Tommy's clothed sides.

Eventually Wilbur stopped and lifted his fingers barely above Tommy's sides, Tommy took deep breaths. The anticipation of knowing Wilbur's fingers were directly above his sides were causing Tommy to giggle nervously as he caught his breath.

"Wihihill.." Wilbur gave a smile, "Hi Toms, lovely day huh?" Tommy wiggled as he tried to escape but Wilbur didn't budge, all the wiggling had caused his shirt to slide up but Tommy was too busy to notice.

Wilbur definitely took notice though and gave a sideways grin, "Toms~.. c'mon just a few positive things about yourself- A real thing and I'll let you go!"

Tommy squirmed but eventually settled as Wilbur made a show of sighing and placing his fingers gently on Tommy's sides, Tommy gasped at the feeling as he realized his shirt had risen enough to reveal his sides. "Ohohokay- I'm- I'm amazing!"

Wilbur looked at the wall for a moment before shrugging and turning his attention back to Tommy, "Well that is a thing isn't it?" Tommy grinned and struggled but quickly realized.. Wilbur didn't move an inch.

"Wihihill? You said a thing-" Wilbur clicked his tongue as he had a low tone, "Oh no Toms, I said things." Before Tommy could react, Wilbur began to squeeze Tommy's sides. Tommy practically screamed with surprised laughter, even if his t-shirt didn't give much protection it helped the sensations feel a bit better- but this? This was horrible! Torture even!

Tommy squealed as Wilbur started to target his tummy, squeezing his sides one last time before skittering his fingers on the sides of his tummy.

"C'mon Toms, I'm gonna help you this time!" Wilbur grinned as Tommy shook his head as he tried to squirm away from the ticklish sensations, laughter spilling out. "Repeat after me: My name is Tommy and I have the most adorable laughter in the whole planet!"

Tommy's face turned red and he shook his head, the redness spreading to the tips of his ears and neck. "NOHOHO-" Wilbur nodded, his tone still teasing. "No you're totally correct, You have the most adorable laughter in the whole world not just the planet!"

Wilbur teased with a big grin and Tommy squirmed, "NOHOHO WIHIHILL- PLEASHHSHE-" Wilbur tsked before he moved his attention back to Tommy's sides and began to vibrate his fingers on them, targeting the death spot once again.

Pleads and giggles spilled out from Tommy's mouth, "WIHIHILL PLEHEEASE-" Wilbur simply continued, eventually pausing to pull Tommy's shirt down. "Okay, let's try again!" Wilbur grinned happily.

"Repeat it, My name is Tommy and I have the most adorablest laughter in the whole world!" Tommy shook his head, his fluffy hair bouncing with every shake as Tommy let out loud laughter.

Tommy was desperate to throw Wilbur off, so he did the one thing he knew would atleast get him some mercy! "WILIHIHIBY-" Wilbur paused at the nickname and Tommy thought he might've won.

But then Wilbur simply cooed at him, "Aw Toms!" Wilbur began up again as he changed his technique to scribbling against Tommy's sides, Tommy let out a squawk before cackling as he tried to push Wilbur's hands away.

"You're so cute! Giggling your brother's name, I think you're just proving my point! Now, I promise to move away from targeting your sides if you just say what I want; My name is Tommy and I have the most adorable laughter in the whole world!"

Tommy's face was burning red, "M-MY NAHAHAME IS TOHOHOMMY-'' Tommy got interrupted by his laughter as Wilbur slowed down enough to let Tommy speak. "I HAHVHVE THE MOST ADOHORABLE LAHAHAUGHTER IN THE WHOHOHOLE WORLOLOD-"

Wilbur smiled brightly, "You do, don't you?" Wilbur's hands haven't slowed down and Tommy squealed, "HAHAHANDS-" Wilbur blinked before he took his hands off Tommy's sides, letting Tommy breathe.

Wilbur's eyes seemed to go everywhere looking for another spot to tickle as he hummed, "Alright, You need to do another positive affirmation okay? Trust your big brother!" Wilbur grinned as his eyes lit up.

"How about this one; My name is Tommy and I am loved!" Wilbur did a weird voice, like he was impersonating Tommy as he spoke the last line. Tommy cringed and shook his head, "Wihihill Nohoho- Too embarrassing-"

Wilbur sighed, "Ah such a shame isn't it? Well, If you won't say you're loved then I'll go to the place I love to tickle you." Tommy blinked before he gaped, "NO-" Wilbur pouted mockingly, "But It's a fair trade unless you have something to say~?"

Tommy refused to let Wilbur win so he narrowed his eyes challengingly, and Wilbur grinned before moving his hands to Tommy's tummy. He stayed there as he looked at Tommy, once it was clear he wasn't going to budge he began to knead the skin there.

It felt more like a massage but Tommy squirmed anyways, more giggles coming out then laughter before Wilbur changed his technique to a harsher tickling- He used both of his hands to scribble into his stomach.

Tommy screamed with laughter, taken off guard by the change of technique as he squirmed. His legs kicked but it didn't even bother Wilbur as he continued with a smug look. "Does it tickle Toms?"

Tommy flipped him off best he could as he tried to hold his laughter in but it ended up escaping his mouth anyway.

"C'mon Toms~ I can do this all day! It's just one sentencee~" Wilbur used one of his hands to continue scribbling into Tommy's tummy but used his other hand to draw shapes into the side of Tommy's neck.

Tommy twisted his head as he tried to get Wilbur to stop. "OKAHAHAY-" Wilbur slowed down but didn't stop completely, stopping his movement on Tommy's neck and placing his other hand back on Tommy’s tummy starting to scratch softly.

"PFFT- MM- HAHA- I ahaham lohohoved-" Tommy's face was blushing a light pink and Wilbur cooed, completely stopping his movements as he scanned for another spot.

"Alright, How about this one; I am cared for!" Tommy shook his head as he whined, "Willll-" Wilbur looked stubbornly at him and Tommy groaned as the blush became more apparent, he mumbled. "I ahmhm caharedhdhd for."

Wilbur made a happy sound as he hummed, trying to think of more. "How about-" Tommy shook his head fast, "Will this is so dumb and this is wasting your time-" He whined out.

Wilbur hummed as he put the tips of his fingers on the small space revealing Tommy's hips as he slowly used his fingers to climb up the side of Tommy's body. To his sides, To his stomach, until he stopped right under his armpit. "Just one positive affirmation Toms~"

He paused and looked at Tommy, Tommy had a pleading look on his face as he looked into his brother's eyes. Wilbur simply smiled. "You know what I wanna hear~" He waited and before he could react, Tommy tightened his arms to his side to cover his armpits and narrowed his eyes at Wilbur, his face blushing red.

Wilbur tilted his head but the grin never faded, "You really wanna play this game Toms?" Tommy stuck his tongue out at him and Wilbur looked unimpressed, "Mhm.. Alright."

Wilbur grabbed Tommy's hands that were laid down flat as he tensed his arms to protect his armpits, Wilbur used both hands and pulled them up even as Tommy tried to keep them there.

Wilbur eventually managed to wrestle both hands into one of his and pinned them to the side of Tommy's head, Tommy screeched but Wilbur continued and used his hand to begin delivering fast pokes to Tommy's armpit.

Tommy immediately jumped, (Or well as much as he could with Wilbur sitting on top of him) and began to squeak as he twisted his body trying to escape the pokes.

"WIHIHILL-" Wilbur smiled happily at the reaction, "You got any positive affirmations in that big ol brain of yours? I have a ton." Tommy couldn't even begin to process any of his thoughts let alone Wilbur's question, the ticklish sensations driving him insane.

Wilbur noticed and took pity on him, "That's fine! I'll go- Tommy, Your laughter brings me such joy and happiness because it is such a happy sound-" Tommy sputtered as he tried to think of anything but all he could focus on was the tickles, his face looked like it would stay permanently red- It probably would if Wilbur kept going.

"And I am so proud of all you achieved, I love how ticklish you are and how even just a light tap could make you squeal-" "WIHIHILL-" "I love how I was gifted such an amazing little brother-"

Tommy's squirming had stopped even as Wilbur had moved back to Tommy's stomach and began to knead and scribble and do any technique possible, Tommy's laughter continued. He tried to push Wilbur's hands away although it was weaker than usual.

"And your laughter could make even the scariest God's melt in your grasp and I'm so thankful that I get to see you everyday and laugh at your stupid jokes, especially when you laugh at them yourself and make those adorable fucking snorts and giggles-"

Wilbur continued not even bothering to take a breath, All these compliments came out easily and the realization of it made Tommy's face burn red. His neck and ears completely turned red as Tommy tried to sputter out anything to get his older brother to stop.

"And I'm so happy i get to see this side of you, the lee side that just melts into any and all tickles and even when you try and convince me your not ticklish anymore even when it's so clear you are when you flinch away when I get even a centimeter close to your sides- but God that's just cute too isn't it?"

Tommy's laughter was hysteric, Wilbur suddenly reached down and blew a raspberry onto his shoulder. While it was covered by his shirt, the sensation was somehow worse and Tommy squeaked before he started to try and buck him off again.

Tommy's laughter started to sound wheezy and Wilbur slowed down before stopping completely, pulling himself off of Tommy and sitting down next to him.

Tommy was giggling and rubbing at his skin to get rid of the ghost tickles, Wilbur helped by softly rubbing his back and humming a tune.

Eventually Tommy calmed down and when he did, He sat up and faced his older brother.

"Dick."

"Okay fair enough-" "Bitch." "Well-" "Prick." "That's literally just the same thing as-" "Fuck you." Wilbur put his hands up and wiggled his fingers, Tommy flinched before flipping him off.

Wilbur gasped dramatically before putting a hand on his forehead, "I guess you don't want any of the coke I got you!" "..Give me a coke." Wilbur rolled his eyes but got up anyways, "Hey at least you can tell your therapist that you did some affirmations!"

Tommy did get his coke, When Puffy asked if he practiced any affirmations the red on his face and his sputtering said enough.

#dsmp tickles #dream smp tickle #myct tickle #lee!tommy #ler!wilbur

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 2 years

Text

Fic: Thank You For Waiting For Me

Read on Ao3

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Reader/you (cishet woman)

Warnings: generic non-graphic piv sex, Sweetness and Fluff, mention of disagreement, FRANKIE IS CONSENT KING

Summary: Frankie always thanks you for waiting for him when he returns from deployment.

Words: 910

A/N: For @missredherring for expressing an interest.

The first time Frankie said it, you got mad.

"Thank you for waiting for me." The whisper, delivered into your ear as he embraced you tightly, was heavy with relief and a sorrow that you didn't understand.

"Of course I did, why wouldn't I?"

"I'd never expect you to."

What was supposed to be a happy reunion turned into an argument when you questioned his statement. Did he think so little of you and your commitment to him? Did he not see himself as worthy of your love? Were you wasting your love on someone worthless? Was your love worthless?

The fight wasn't a long one, the physical need for each other after months apart drove you to make up very quickly, and in your favorite way: with you on your back, Frankie pinning you down and sweating for fucking his cum deep inside you. After, you talked about it, and he managed to somehow explain what he meant and why.

"I've seen so many wives and girlfriends leave." His chest rose in a deep sigh, and you passed your hand over it, as if you could touch his breath. "Even the most solid of marriages dissolve because of what we do for a living. And I've lost girlfriends because of it, too."

You didn't know what to say to that. It still felt like he didn't believe enough in your devotion to him to think that you'd stay.

"I just don't want you to wake up one day and regret all the time you spent waiting for me. Or staying because you feel obliged to."

The words cut messily into your heart, like a dull blade through a loaf of bread with a crisp crust. But instead of hurting, your body was flooded by a sense of assurance.

"I will wait because you make it worthwhile," you told him with all the confidence you could muster, to let him know that you were certain of what you were saying.

"You are the one who makes the effort. You may be away from home for months at a time, but you make up for it when you're home." You place a soft little kiss on his lips. "You are present when you're with me. So attentive, so loving." Another gentle kiss lands on his lips. "And that requires a lot more work than me sitting here alone does."

"It's not hard, not with you," he shrugged shyly. You nodded, a smile growing on your lips.

"Exactly. It's not hard, not with you. Frankie, I wouldn't wait for anyone but you."

He was happy with that. But he never stopped saying it. Even now, a couple of years later, when you open the front door just as Frankie is digging in his pockets for the key, and instead releases his bag on the ground to hold you as tightly as he can in the doorway. Even now does he say it.

"Thank you for waiting for me."

The words are whispered with a different kind of security than before. Now he knows you'll wait, but he still thanks you for it, because that's just who Frankie is.

"Thank you for coming back to me," you reply in an equal whisper, and only then does he brush his lips over yours in the first hint of a kiss. You back into the house and close the door, and that's when he kisses you properly. He pours all the kisses he couldn't give you over the past few months into this one. And you kiss him back with equal amounts of longing and lacking, relishing the first prickles of his mustache that he stopped shaving as soon as he was back stateside. As you stumble into the bedroom, he makes only one pit stop before pulling your sweater over your head.

"May I?"

"If you don't, I'm sending you back out there."

Francisco Morales, king of consent. Even when you're practically ripping his shirt open, he will stop to make sure you want it.

The first time always borders on desperate. Frankie wants to slow it down but gets carried away by your hurry. You always want him a little too soon, need him to push his way into your core with a stinging forcefulness that assures you that he is indeed back, he is here, cradling your cheek as you whimper from the stiff intrusion.

"I'm hurting you." The alarm in his voice is prominent. You shake your head vigorously.

"You're loving me."

You pull him down on top of you and move your pelvis, make him fit inside you as you kiss him, your tongues dancing together as your walls become slick, allowing his cock to slide more freely.

He takes you fast, and you allow him to let go with no thought of your own climax. He'll see to you later, right now you simply relish how he wants you, claims you, loves you, fucks you - if it goes too fast, so fast that you don't get to cum, that's okay. You whisper your I love yous into his ear when he's about to cum, and that is his undoing: he spills with a sobbed moan, his lips on yours without kissing, just exchanging warm breaths.

Waiting for him is not a duty, or a chore, or a burden. It is what it is, and you do it because it's him, it's Frankie, and he makes it worth it.

#francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier fanfic #my fic

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realistically-shifting · 8 months

Note

🛶 do you have any DRs that are NOT based on fictional worlds or some type of fame DR or waiting room?

💍 are you married in any of your DRs?

🫶 who is your favorite person in your DR that is NOT an S/O?

🐶 do you have any pets in your DR?

🛶: I do! I’m copy-pasting from another post, but I have a DR where I’m part of a nonbinary idol group called ‘N.B’. The group has five members, ranging in age from 21 to 30, and all of us typically present neutrally but we fluctuate between feminine and masculine too. The five of us work with smaller artists to develop our albums, plus each member has an album dedicated to their personal music preference mixed with pop. We’re globally popular across age groups and genders, and we probably have fan blogs dedicated to the femme and masc versions of ourselves. I haven’t even finished the script yet, but I’m excited. I wonder what this will do for my fear of publicly dancing/singing in my CR.

💍: Generally speaking, I have S/Os that I intend to marry, but I haven’t experienced it yet. That won’t stop me from taking this chance to talk about them though!

In my zombie apocalypse DR, Orion, I originally had 12 wives (and Remus is our husband). I’m not sure if I should add them back to my script atm. I didn’t include all the faceclaims because I don’t remember the t.o.s and I don’t want to be flagged, but-

Carina is a botanist and gardener who takes care of our current greenhouse. She somehow manages to spoil Hana more than I do, and almost all the rest of us spoil Carina too.

Daphne is a MMA trainer with a passion for picking fights with the Helvigs. Felix falls for her taunts quite easily. She keeps all of us in shape and all of us have to be trained by her.

Ivy is a mechanical-electrical engineer and was actually my girlfriend in college before we were separated, thought each other dead, and I met Remus. We were in a band together in college, we both love mechanical-electrical engineering and music.

Circe was a lawyer before the apocalypse, now she’s taking this free time to study more branches of law while we go over what the new society should look like.

Aaliyah is an investigative journalist and radio personality, she also has a radio show. She set it up after the apocalypse, since she had nothing else to lose anyway.

Sylvie is an assassin. Is, not was. But since we don’t really have people we want assassinated, she’s basically retired. When she’s not training or helping Daphne train us, she’s lounging. She can be really intense with her eye contact, but I love that about her.

Valentina was a logistician that’s currently helping to handle our supply distribution. She and her twin brother are typically fighting, but he lives with us because they’re inseparable after what happened during the apocalypse.

Lucia was an architect, now she’s using her education and skills for some urban planning. She loves having something to sip on (as an oral stim, not alcoholism), so she often has a glass in her hand. She’s super giggly and she’s tied with Carina for most spoiled because we can’t seem to help it.

Nadia’s educated and trained as an ethicist, but she prefers beekeeping. Hana prefers it too, since the honeycomb from Nadia’s hives are perfect for her sweet tooth. When she’s smoking, her personality completely flips and she loosens up.

Adele is a general surgeon that would love to not be working, but the Helvigs like putting her to work. Even with super healing, we still need things taken out, aligned, etc.

Jade was a psychologist. She was working towards her own private practice before the apocalypse, now she has her hands full with us. But she’s considering training people to be counselors to take on some of the work.

Yasmin is a political historian that was working as an archivist, books and research are part of her special interests. She’s super easy to get gifts for, since she loves old books and the apocalypse happened and everything.

Other than them, I don’t have solid plans to marry in most of my other DRs. My only other husband would be…

🫶: HANA To be honest? My CR little sister who shows up in about half of my scripts as my little sister. If not her, then Juliet Starling, who is my opposite aesthetic best friend in my Lollipop Chainsaw DR.

🐶: Yeah! Not many, though. In several witch DRs, I have a white Burmese Python named Velvet. She’s just a baby and she’s the sweetest thing. She’s my familiar, so she helps me with my magic, protects me, and we have a psychic connection that allows us to communicate. This is what she looks like at only four months.

I also have a Bernese Mountain dog named Titan. Technically, he used to be Remus’ trained dog, but the hard truth is that he just likes us better lol

Thanks for asking!

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nicolesainz · 9 months

Text

Within The Limits (Ben Chilwell x Jenson Button x OC)

Author's note: NEW SERIES BABES! I missed writing a full story, given that I always delete and redo my short fics, so this will be a probably 10-15 part story (if there's more, time will tell). This duo is very random, compared to the Mason x Carlos one I did last time, but I love these guys so much, so it was worth the shot. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Chelsea Winster is a double working reporter for Sky sports F1 and the Premier League. At the ripe age of 25 she's surrounded herself with people who love and appreciate her (some more than others), that's how the former world champion Jenson Button got wrapped around her finger. But little does she know that an England senior and Chelsea player will step up his game just to see her smile. Who will she choose? Double trouble is fun but not when it comes to heart matters.

Warnings: nsfw content will be included, each chapter will get a warning so don’t worry, lots of swearing, intensity, age gap, fluff (of course)

next chapter

“Can you stop eye fucking Jenson for a minute? It’s as polite as I can ask you” Lissie nudges me with her elbow and I shake my head, coming back to reality.

“Sorry. Force of habit” I blurt out without realizing and Lissie slaps her hand on her mouth, shutting it.

“Oh my god. I don’t wanna know. Let’s just move on” she says and we focus back on the qualifying session that is currently taking place.

For some reason, qualifying for the British Grand Prix is always more thrilling than in any other race. Maybe neck to neck with Brazil but that’s because in both countries the weather is unpredictable, like the results.

Lissie works for the F1 network, while I for Sky Sports so most of the times at qualifying or free practice, I get to hang out with her since everyone else is in the comment box.

The one time I was in the commentary box with Crofty, Martin, Jenson and Nico, I almost confused Max with Checo and was about to announce Checo as the poleman instead of Max. That’s because I was heavily influenced by the way Jenson’s veins were showing around his muscled arms. Ever since that day, I refuse to step my foot inside there ever again.

Another reason why I try but fail to keep a distance from Jenson is that every time we are alone, we somehow end up in the back of a dark room, kissing like teenagers and making out until I can’t feel my legs anymore. Let’s just say that’s a detail no one knows. Not even Lissie. But I’m sure she’s suspected something given that in the space of an hour I showed up with a hickie on my neck.

I’m not afraid to admit that yes, I am into older men as well. Mostly the ones with brown hair and stupidly cute blue eyes, twice my age and 2009 world champion with Brawn, currently holding a microphone and analyzing how it’s impossible for the Ferrari’s to be on pole.

“I domt can’t tell whether you’re looking at the right side of the screen or left. Do you even pay attention to who is about to get eliminated?” Lissie snaps her fingers in front of my eyes.

“I can do multiple things at the same time. And yes, I’m looking both ways, what’s wrong with that?” I reply but now my attention turns to my friend.

“I seriously don’t get how you can be into older men instead of youngsters. Like, almost week in-week out in England, you’re surrounded by 44 handsome gentlemen and you’re telling me you only have eyes for Jenson?”

“Maybe. I mean, come on, look at him! He doesn’t compare to those boys in the Prem. Plus, half of them are perverts and others have girlfriends or wives. Jenson is single and I spend most of my time in the paddock with him”

“Have you at least told your loverboy that they are sending you for almost full-time at the Prem? He’ll miss you but not more than me” Lissie gives me a big smile and I hug her.

“He’ll find out when he sees me commenting alongside Micah Richards or Gary Neville. Plus, I think for some reason, they’ve assigned me to commentate most of Chelsea’s game and I don’t know if that has to do something with my name” oh the irony. My dad’s favorite team is Chelsea so when he and mum found out they were having a girl it was the perfect opportunity for him.

“Oh lucky! All of the hotties play for Chelsea. Well, used to, but some of them are still there. Like Ben Chilwell. A fine Englishman and champions league winner. What more than that?” She winks at my playfully and I roll my eyes with her comment.

"Not my cup of tea, L. Plus, all of them are arrogant assholes go just pose when the camera points at them." I do like football, I swear, it's the players that get on my nerves. Such divas.

"As if f1 drivers aren't snob and attention seekers?"

"Well, they have a sense of humanity and logicality. Driving the fastest cars alive, risking their lives, abandoning family and friends to travel the world just to entertain others. Footballers injure themselves and then take 2 months trip to the Bahamas."

"Remind me again why did they assign you to the Prem?" Lissie is amused with my ideas that she's been scratching her head the entire time.

"For banter, maybe?" I shrug

"Oh those poor boys, the things you will be telling them after the games."

____________________________________________________________

"Oh the way I knew that you couldn't get your eyes off the screen for even a second, satisfies me massively" Jenson whispers in my ear and I could faint right this instant moment.

"How can I? Especially when you are there. All bossy and classy simultaneously, explaining how the sport works better than anyone else" I smirk devilishly behind the crook of his neck.

"I still don't know for what reason you are attracted to me? My looks? My knowledge? Or my insanely good driving skills?" his hand lands on my thigh, caressing it up and down softly.

"All of the three" I sigh as I feel the hand going more upwards and uneasiness rushes over my body.

"Why so flushed darling? Does my hand on your thigh have this strong effect on you?" his lips kiss my jawline and a soft groan escapes my mouth.

"Oh I will miss this" I say as I hold on firmly to Jenson’s bicep and tighten my grasp around it.

“I’m not going anywhere dear, what are you talking about?” A small peck lands on my lips and I feel my lower lip being sucked by him.

I stop at my tracks and kiss Jenson sweetly before removing myself away from his lap, so I can tell him the truth about my job.

“I need you to be calm, m’kay?”

“I don’t understand. Is something wrong?” He looks worried and stressed.

“I’m being transferred. For the next two years I will be working full time in England.” I say out loud and it sounds like fake.

“Why? What? How? I mean, uh. Explain a bit further, please.”

“You know that I work for both the Premier League and F1. Well, Sky Sports decided to transfer me for two years back in England so I can commentate on the games and then they’ll decide where I will be permanently settled.”

“So that means I’m losing you? You’re not going to be around anymore?”

“Whenever there’s a weekend that I am free and F1 happens to be on, I will join you, just not as a commentator. I really hate that this has to happen”

I truly do hate it. For the past 4 years my life was about an airplane, no sleep, fast cars, statistics and Jenson. Now it will be 22 men kicking the ball for 90 minutes straight.

“I’ll come for visits too. Don’t think you’ll get rid of me that easily baby” he hugs my waist and grabs me back onto his lap.

“I wasn’t planning on it JB. Trust me.”

#jenson button x reader #ben chilwell x reader #ben chilwell #jenson button #formula 1 #football

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thelovelymissbigbadwolf · 15 days

Text

Here's my personal HC for the Fair family tree

Grandma (M) / Grandpa (M): Mom

Grandma (D) / Grandpa (D): Dad

Dad / Mom: Zack

Grandma (MD) : 💀

Grandpa (MD) Old man Yaoi

Yes I HC that after their wives death, both of Zack's grandparents got together since they were childhood friends and also war colleagues who secretly loved each other but never acted upon it and only did so once they were old.

Mom accepted and figured it out first. Dad took WAY too long to understand what was happening, and when he did went like

"WAIT— WHAT— WHEN— HOW—" Bluescreen.

Zack himself took WAY too long to find out about his grandparents because his parents had no idea HOW to touch the subject. I mean, his mom knew, but his dad always interrupted the subject, fearing his son's reaction. Even though both knew his kid would accept it. Until

Zack: Uh, mom, what's up with dad? Why's he acting like that whenever I ask about pops?

Sara: Oh, because—

Jack: WHOWANTSPUMPKINPIEIWANTPUMPKINPIEZACKSONGOFETCHUSSOMEPUMPKINSWILLYA???

Zack gets weirded out, but does so anyway, fetching an axe and out for the pumpkins field.

Sara: JACK FOR FUCK'S SAKE IT'S NOT EVEN PUMPKIN SEASON!

Jack: I KNOW I JUST-AHWJCWKHCWJJCKW YOU GET WHY I DID THAT, SARA!

Sara: NO I DO NOT!

Jack: What if his reaction is bad??

Sara: Jack you know our son and knows even though he likes girls, THERE ISN'T A SINGLE STRAIGHT BONE IN HIM. NO HE WILL NOT HAVE A BAD REACTION!

It takes Zack a total of three hours searching for a ripe pumpkins to realize something— it's winter, it's not pumpkin season. He walked back home and just went to a general store to buy some pumpkin jam instead and heads home.

Zack: Dad, I think you mistook the season, so I got—

He looks up and sees his grandparents and immediately goes to hug them and they talk about how his life on the big city's been. He talked about his friends, about his girlfriend to them. And how he's going to live a beautiful romance with her just like his grandparents did. Sara giggled along with both grandparents and Jack shushed them. Zack didn't get it. Were they laughing at him?

Zack: I... Don't see what's funny, why are y'all laughing?

Sara: Oh, nothing sweetie, it's just—

Jack: YOUJUSTMETHERHOWDOYOUKNOWSHESTHEONE

Sara glared at Jack. Zack frowned at him.

Zack: Well, how did you know mom was the one for you?

Sara: Zack, your dad didn't want to—

Pops (M): Eh, don't worry Bloodhound, we can take it from here.

Sara nodded and dragged Jack out of the room. Jack was eating his nails while waiting for the scene to be over, not knowing what his son's reaction would be. (Also I will be calling them Raph and Crowley for practicity purposes)

Raph: We both have something to say to you, squeaker.

Zack: What?

Both the old men held hands in front of Zack. He looked at it. The two parents were having a distinct reaction, Sara calm and Jack freaking out. Zack looked confused and just shrugged.

Zack: Well?...

Raph: Uh... Alright, uh... You know when... Two people love each other?

He pointed at their held hands. Zack shook his head, still confused. Sara now started to freak out.

Sara: Oh my god.

Jack: DO YOU GET WHY I'M LIKE THIS?!

Zack's fraternal grandfather (Raph) began to stutter, not knowing what to do or say. Zack's maternal grandfather (Crowley) rolled his eyes and just grabbed the other's face and pulled him for a kiss. THAT is when it finally hit to him.

Zack: O H

Jack: DO YOU GET NOW?!

Zack: H O W

Sara: ARE YOU SERIOUS??

Zack: W H E N

Raph: He's young! How did he not catch the clues?!

Zack: W H O

Crowley: You forget he's your grandson.

Zack: HO— wait, what?

Raph: ARE YOU CALLING ME STUPID?!

Zack: ARE YOU CALLING ME STUPID?!

#ff7 #ff7r #zack fair #ccff7 #ccff7r #ffvii #final fantasy vii

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bumblee-stumblee · 7 days

Text

From his article:

Abusive Men Describe the Benefits of Violence Oct 14, 2015 | 2015 Fall | Abusive Men Describe the Benefits of Violence By Chuck Derry For many years, I facilitated courtmandated groups for men who batter. In the early 1980s we were concentrating on healthy relationship skills building, emotional identification and selfcontrol, and anger management, among other related issues. Then battered women in Duluth, Minnesota, began gathering to discuss the impact of the violence on their lives. What emerged was that the men who beat them not only physically assaulted them, but also controlled where they went, who they talked to, what they wore, where they worked, if they worked, how the money was spent, when, with whom, and how they had sex, how the kids were raised, how the domestic labor was split in the household. You get the picture. Basically, the men got to control the women to get what the men wanted… and the threat and use of violence was the bottom line that ensured it would happen. Now I was training men in weekly groups at the time to use assertiveness when in conflict with their wives or girlfriends, teaching them how to access and express their feelings appropriately. Then I would send them home to practice. The next week they would come back and report that their new assertiveness “skills” weren’t working. I asked them why, and they would say, “Because she still did A, B, C, and D and would not do E, F, and G.” Which is what he wanted. I began then to slowly understand that I was teaching men multiple personal life skills and they were simply using those skills in attempts to control women even more effectively. So what was the point? Why were they so invested in this controlling and abusive behavior? One night I started the group by asking the men what they thought the benefits were of their violence. At first they all looked at each other (notably) and said, “There are no benefits.” This did not surprise me, as men who batter routinely deny their actions—as they deny their intents as well. So I said, “Well, there must be some benefits from the violence; otherwise why would you do it?” They looked at each other again and then one guy started admitting there were benefits, and then they all chimed in until the four-by-eight-foot blackboard I was writing their responses on was full.

Here is a list of the benefits they cited (until we ran out of space):

She’s scared and won’t go out and spend money

Get your way: go out

Respect

She won’t argue

Feeling superior: she’s accountable to me in terms of being somewhere on time: I decide

Keeps relationship going—she’s too scared to leave

Get the money

Get sex

Total control in decision making

Use money for drugs

Don’t have to change for her

Power

Decide where to go (as a couple)

Who to see

What to wear

Control the children

If she’s late, she won’t be again

Intimidation

She’s scared & can’t confront me

Can convince her she’s screwin’ up

She feels less worthy so defers to my needs and wants

She will look up to me and accept my decisions without an argument

Decide her social life—what she wears so you can keep your image by how she acts

She’s to blame for the battering

She’s an object

(I get) a robot babysitter, maid, sex, food

Ego booster

She tells me I’m great

Bragging rights

If she works—get her money

Get her to quit job so she can take care of house

Isolate her so friends can’t confront me

Decide how money is spent

“I’m breadwinner”

Buy the toys I want

Take time for myself

She has to depend on me if I break her stuff

I get to know everything

She’s a nurse-maid

She comforts me

Supper on the table

Invite friends over w/o her knowin’ = more work for her

No compromise = more freedom

Don’t have to listen to her complaints for not letting her know stuff

She works for me

I don’t have to help out

I don’t have to hang out with her or kids

Determine what values kids have—who they play with, what school they go to or getting to ignore the process—dictating what they “need” food, clothes, recreation, etc.

Dictate reality, etc.

Kids on my side against her

Kids do what I say

Mold kids/her so that they will help do what I should do

Keeps kids quiet about abuse

Don’t have to get up, take out garbage, watch kids, do dishes, get up at night with kids, do laundry, change diapers, clean house, bring kids to appointments or activities, mop floors, clean refrigerator, etc.

Answer to nobody

Do what you want, when you want to

Get to ignore/deny your history of violence and other irresponsible behavior

Get to write history

Get to determine future

Choose battles & what it will cost her

Proves your superiority

Win all the arguments

Don’t have to listen to her wishes, complaints, anger, fears, etc.

Make the rules then break them when you want

So she won’t get help against you for past beatings because she has no friends to support her and she is confused by my lies

Convince her she’s nuts

Convince her she’s unattractive

Convince her she’s to blame

Convince her she’s the problem

I can dump on her

Can use kids to “spy” on mom

Kids won’t tell mom what I did

Kids won’t disagree with me

Don’t have to talk to her

I’m king of the castle

Can make yourself scarce

Have someone to unload on

Have someone to bitch at

She won’t call police

Tell kids don’t have to listen to mom

Get her to drop charges

Get her to support me to her family, my family, cops, judge, SCIP, prosecutors, etc.

Get her to admit it’s her fault

This was the first time I fully comprehended the necessity of a consistent coordinated community response through the criminal, civil, and family court systems which can mete out safe and effective interventions that hold men who batter accountable while preserving the safety of the women, girls, and boys they abuse. It was on that day that I realized if I had to choose between providing batterer groups for men who batter or a consistently effective criminal and civil/family court response to domestic violence, I would choose the criminal and civil/family court response every time. There are just too many benefits gained from this behavior.

After that first time asking the men about the benefits of their violence, I began to be much more effective in my work. It was astounding how dramatically the groups changed once I acknowledged and remembered that the violence was functional— and that was why they used it.

All this to essentially say, the men that abuse women, that abuse their female partners/spouses know why they're doing it. It's not that male cliche of "blind rage" "black out rage" or in a fit of passion. It's not an overly emotional response that they had no control over like most of them like to tell their partner in order to gaslight them.

They know why and how to use violence. There is a benefit for them. There is no rehabilitation for abusers. They will continue to abuse their partners, they will use skills taught to them to further gaslight, manipulate and control the people they've abused.

Chuck Derry did an ama in the menslib subreddit a few years ago, I'll link it below for y'all to read the outrage they had at his insistence that using gender neutral language only serves to benefit the perpetrators(men)

#radblr #radfems #feminism #radfem #male violence #feminist #Chuck Derry

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autumntouched · 1 year

Note

that one kanye tweet that’s like “i need a room full of mirrors so i am surrounded by winners” is so hangman coded i’m dying

like just imagine him saying that to phoenix when she’s his fiancé/wife in the hannix football rivalry universe 😂😩

Warnings: NSFW just in case because this gets a little 🌶️ . No smut but racy texts. However, the Kanye quote comes before that if you want to stop after Nat’s response xx

I Need a Room Full of Mirrors

One of the reasons Natasha doesn’t mind shopping with Jake is that he has a fairly decent sense of fashion. Unlike the other men, who look bored out of their minds while they wait for their girlfriends or wives, Jake will put aside his phone to give her his genuine, enthusiastic opinion. And he doesn’t do it just for her—he’ll hype any woman who happens to be in the dressing room at the same time she is until all of them are going out to get his feedback on each outfit. Natasha can practically feel the smug glow on his face when he overhears them gushing to her about how lucky she is to have him.

The shop clerks love it too and will often slip them a discount, which Natasha can’t really complain about either.

“Mind if we stop in here?” he asks, hooking his thumb toward a menswear store.

She holds her hands out for the bags he insisted on carrying. “No, I got them, babe.” He drops a kiss on her forehead and strolls into the shop.

While he browses, she picks a few pieces for him and follows the saleswoman to the dressing rooms to wait for Jake. Natasha settles into one of the leather seats and responds to several texts from her brother.

“Right this way,” another saleswoman says a little breathlessly, cluing Natasha in to Jake’s approach. There’s a deep blush on the woman’s cheeks, and she tries to check the back of her hair while carrying some of Jake’s selections.

“I put the shirts I picked in that one,” Natasha tells him when he sets her bags down next to her. She points to the dressing room door where his name is written neatly in chalk.

Jake glances down the row of rooms and goes to what looks like a larger one at the end. He peaks inside. “May I use this one, ma’am?” he asks.

“Of course!” she exclaims, rushing to move his clothes at the same time Natasha asks, “What’s wrong with the one you have?”

“It’s not a problem!” the saleswoman chirps, nearly dropping her keys in her hurry to move everything from one room to the other.

“This one’s got more mirrors,” Jake tells her while he nearly sends the poor woman into shock when he brushes her hand taking a few hangers from her. Natasha fixes him with a raised eyebrow, and he flashes her a grin that looks fit to split his cheeks. “Babe, c’mon, I need a room full of mirrors so I’m surrounded by winners.”

The saleswoman giggles, but Natasha stands up and nearly chucks her phone at him. “Are you fucking kidding me? I must have been deprived of oxygen the day I agreed to marry you!”

That wipes the amusement off the woman’s face, but Jake doesn’t see from where he’s holding the door open. He pulls out his phone and taps it open.

“The room’s ready,” the saleswoman says, a lot less chipper than she was a few seconds ago.

“Appreciate it,” he smiles and disappears inside. Natasha’s phone buzzes.

Come inside. I have a few ideas about how to take your breath away enough to make you say yes to me all over

Natasha feels her face heat and glances around. Fortunately, the saleswoman scooted off as soon as she realized Jake wasn't available.

Show me later, and I’ll show you something else in the mirror, she sends back.

Wait. If it’s your middle finger again…

She stifles a laugh at that memory. No, unless you want to tell me where to put it this time. Better yet, maybe I'll let you show me...

One of the hangers falls to the floor, and Jake swears softly. Ok. Stop please or we’re going to have to leave

Natasha glances around and sinks back down into the chair so she can cross her legs against her own impatience. Lmao after you made that poor woman move all your stuff? I won’t let you

but maybe you were onto something with the mirrors 😉 do you want to know what thinking about seeing you shirtless from all those angles is doing to me?

Her phone buzzes with a picture of Jake’s tanned pecs and abs reflected three times over, his nipples hard from the cool air, their texts, or both, and yeah, he was fucking right about the mirrors.

Jake saunters out of the room in his first shirt. It’s not even buttoned properly. “How do I look?” he asks roughly.

Natasha uncrosses her legs. “Like a winner.”

#hannix football rivalry au #hannix football rivalry #natasha phoenix trace #jake hangman seresin #phoenix fic #natasha trace fic #i love your notes #talk to me #natasha phoenix trace x jake hangman seresin

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howyouloveyourdragon · 1 year

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hi hello everybody today i am here not just to simp over my wife @its-actually-minicika but to appreciate her as well. i have stated before that i have been on break for awhile now (i'm making a post about it later today if you're interested in what's going on) this year already has been very difficult for me but there's someone, my beloved mina, who has practically brought me back to life during it all. in february we met while simping over each other and making our followers uncomfortable through horny twilight pick up lines. i never would have imagined that she would have become this important to me and she is a big reason why i feel so comfortable being an unhinged little shit on this app. she enables me to the extreme (☠️) and you guys didn't even see her as she started to become the incredible and supportive friend she is to everybody through our history of dms. without any doubt i can confirm that she has always supported me and threatened to kill for me (pls it's so hot). she is funny, kind and my soulmate fr. i don't even know what i would have done if i hadn't met her because i honestly cannot imagine being on this app without our silly divorce drama and chats. mina you are such an amazing wife/girlfriend i'm literally so in love with you i don't think i clicked with anyone the way i clicked with you before we met and i hope you know just how much you mean to me, i've told you things that i have not even told the irl people in my life and you continue to help me feel comfortable online and offline. you are such a beautiful talented person and i hope that you are forever in my life <33 if you have not already visited @its-actually-minicika's page then i greatly suggest you do she has an array of fics (and other wives apparently 🙄) each as amazing as she is.

mina you will forever be my wifey minneapolis ♡

#mina my love #wifey ♡#wifey minneapolis ♡#wifey mina #wifey mina ♡#wifey mina bby ♡

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reflections-in-a-critical-eye · 2 years

Note

Omg finally someone else knows about the Charmie ship, I was starting to think it was a fever dream that I dreamt up lol. People always bring up Taekook and Larry as examples of bad shipping practices but Charmies were delusional too. It’s interesting how these problematic ships have specific terminology associated with them/their industry. Larry had a ‘beard’, Taekook had an opposing ‘fanservice’ ship and Charmie had a ‘PR relationships’. Observing the ships of especially higher profile celebs/idols is so interesting to witness because it highlights the patriarch society we live in. Like you mentioned, these ships really display how women consciously/subconsciously hate on other women they perceive to be threats to their ship or fantasy. The enemy of these ships are usually women (Harry+Louis+Timothee+Armie’s girlfriends/wives) or men that they feminize (Jimin). Interesting topic.

You made an interesting observation at the end regarding Jimin. The taekook narrative is different in comparison to other big slash ships because the so called "enemy" has a different gender. For larry or charmie, the woman is the intruder so hating her it's like an automatic response. She's there to disrupt the fantasy and also expose the fantasy at the same time.

Because the result is that the shippers are more interested in actively fetishizing a gay relationship and gay men. They are fascinated with it, although at the same time they apply heteronormative definitions to it. One is the woman with any particular gender stereotypes, the other one is the man, with its own set of gender stereotypes. This is then transposed into the way they write fanfiction, how they draw the couple. They have the obsession with coming out, of praying for their eternal love. Once you see such vocabulary, it makes it all more clear. And then something happens, a woman comes into play and that's a problem. They already have the woman, the feminized version of one of the men in the ship, which is acceptable because it's a product of their imagination and a self insert at the same time.

Now, taekookers are having to deal with a bigger problem. Their biggest threat in their view is in this case a man. That disrupts the fantasy even more. So in order to make it all work, they have to change how they view that man. They need to reduce him, to strip him of his masculinity because his masculinity puts him as equal as those other two men. And him being an equal makes it a threat. Because in the case of taekook where the shippers believe that Tae and JK are in love with each other and that makes them automatically attracted to the same gender, hence gay (I'm just telling how their fantasy works), it means that there is the possibility of Jungkook (never Tae) to be attracted to Jimin. Because he is a man. That's why ships involving Tae/JK and a woman do not pose a "real" threat in the eyes of the shippers. They laugh at it because they truly believe JK and Tae are together. But by believing that, they are also aware, deep down, that Jungkook as a presumably gay man, could also be attracted to another man - Jimin.

So because this is such an unacceptable scenario, they have to femininize Jimin. He cannot be seen at the same level of a gay man as JK and Tae. Hating Jimin in that position would reveal that they can be homophobic and how they mostly fetishize a gay relationship. In turn, Jimin is portrayed as a woman. A woman that can be hated, the type that through the patriarchal conditioning, is seen as a threat to other women. For example, the femme fatale, the seductress, the slut, the whore. All words used by taekookers. Sometimes they latch onto made up rumors in which they return Jimin his masculinity if it involves some woman, or him supposedly becoming a father. But that doesn't happen often. Jimin is also seen as a man who could be gay only when once again, they find another man to ship him with. Be it Yoongi, or his friends in his private life. In both these scenarios, Jimin can be a man and attracted to other men. But the minute he is next to Jungkook, he cannot be that anymore. He is no longer potentially a man with whom Jungkook may cheat, but a home wrecker, which is usually a term used for women. Jimin's feminine qualities which show up in his behavior in a positive sense (he is more nurturing, he is in tune with his emotions, etc) are completely dismissed. He is patriarchaly feminized.

*Jimin and gender identity/sexuality discussion.

#bmt asks #bts #bts ships #taekook #jikook #taekookers #bts shippers #anon I hope I was clear enough in my response #I was just brainstorming #my ideas kept coming #but I'm not sure it all makes sense #but I do see it as a rough draft #there is potential here to explore the topic #jimin #jimin gender discussion

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abbatoirablaze · 7 months

Text

Back To You, Chapter 2

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: angst

“You really messed up, Victor.”

“I don’t need you telling me your opinion, Jake!”

“Bethany-“

“Is my problem,” he growled at his brother, “I don’t need you or anyone else getting involved.”

“I thought you were going to UCLA with her,” he frowned, pointing out the plan that everyone had known about, “she’s supposed to be your endgame, isn’t she? You go get your engineering degree and she becomes a social worker! Then the two of you have some kids in a SoCal mini mansion that her dad owns. You were the lucky one. Uncle would have given you everything on a silver platter because you two have been together since elementary school! Their family would-”

“Jaco-“

“Your life was all planned out,” he sighed, shaking his head as he cut his younger brother off once more, “why would you throw that away, Victor?”

“I didn’t think that I’d get in…”

“All you had to do was keep your head down and live life, Victor,” he sighed, shaking his head at him, “but you couldn’t even do that, could you?”

“You never come around anymore…”

“I’m the disappointment, remember?” Victor taunted his older brother, “can’t exactly do that and be the dutiful son, can I? Otherwise, I’d be encroaching on your territory!”

“I wanted you to be there for family dinner…”

“You and I both knew that I wasn’t going to be there.”

“Beth was there…Uncle came too!” Victor frowned as he looked at his brother. Jacob rolled his eyes at him, “you two still not talking to each other, I take it?”

“I haven’t really talked to her since that night, Jacob,” he groaned as he took another shot, “you know that. I mean, we see each other every so often, bu-”

“Trust me…I know.”

Victor’s brow quirked as he managed to look at his brother once more, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Jacob only shook his head at his brother, “never mind…just…if you were home, you would know…”

“Jacob.”

“Come to a family dinner, Victor…see mom. See me and my girlfriend,” he begged, “come see Bethany…sh-she shows up every week. I-“

“I can’t face Beth…” he frowned, shaking his head, “anyways…I barely have any free time working patrol. After MIT and coming back home, I-”

“You’re here tonight…” Jacob pointed out, “how is it that you’re able to meet me for drinks if you’re always busy, Victor? You know what I think. I think that you’re just afraid to come home so you say you’re busy. Always busy!”

“I’m not always busy…it’s just hard to find time…to plan things.”

“That’s an excuse.”

Victor’s jaw tensed as he looked at Jacob once again, “It’s not.”

“Then come to dinner,” he begged once again, trying his luck, “it’s been eight years since you’ve actually been home. I’m practically an actual doctor now.”

“Jacob.”

“Don’t make me get on my hands and knees and beg you,” the younger sibling grumbled, “I just want my whole family to be with me as I celebrate.”

“Celebrate?”

A blush rose up onto Jacob’s cheeks, “I-I’ve been inviting her over to family dinners for nearly a year…and mom gave me the bracelets last month…”

“The ones that grandpa bought for our future wives?”

He nodded, “yeah…I-I’m going to propose to her next week at dinner…if you show up…I-I want everyone to be a part of it. I want everyone there, Victor…”

“Jacob.” Victor felt bad now for avoiding the special invitation that his brother made every week to him for the past few weeks, “I-I didn’t know.”

“And you wouldn’t,” he reminded his brother, “you haven’t been home in eight years. I graduated and got my four-year degree and med school and you’ve still never come home. You never came home for any of it, Victor…but I want you to be there. I want my little brother to be in my life…I want you to be a part of this next big chapter in my life! We don’t have dad! It’s just us. And I want you there.”

“I-I’ll show up…”

“That’s all I ask!” Jacob smiled, “thank you…”

“Victor!”

Mrs. Tans’ eyes widened as she saw her son in her doorway, a blonde giggling against his frame. A blush rose onto Victor’s cheeks, “mom.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, instantly looking over her shoulder.

Inside the house Victor could hear animated conversation all boisterous and full of life in Cantonese. He tried to look over her shoulder, but she stepped in front of the door a little more, almost closing it on herself. She shot her son a look and then glared at the blonde on his arm. “佢係邊個”(Who is she?)

“亞媽. 要有禮貌。佢係我嘅客”He frowned (mother. Be polite. She’s my guest.)

“So English?” she asked, another glare shooting at the young woman, “you want me to accommodate?”

“Vicky,” the blonde giggled as she leaned into his side, “I thought you said that we weren’t going to be stopping here for long!”

“Ashley…”

“Oh, so you’re not even going to be here for long?” Mrs. Tan taunted, a new look crossing her face, “we’re just a blip on your little radar…the cop doesn’t have much time for us…no time for family!”

“Mom?” Jacob asked from his spot at the table, “who’s at the door?”

Fei glared at her son before looking back into the dining room.

“Come on mom…we just want to celebrate…Jacob invited me…I want to be here for him.”

“Looks like the two of you have enough celebrating!” Fei said firmly, “I’m not going to let you ruin your brother’s night.”

“Mom…”

“MOM?”

“It’s no one!” Fei said over her shoulder, “Wrong house…I’m coming back.”

“You’re really not going to let me in?” Victor asked, hurt lacing his tone, “you’re really going to-“

“You don’t care about what’s happening here…” Fei announced, “you left for MIT and we were okay…but then you come back…and you go be police man…you know how the family feels about that choice. You dishonored us, Victor.”

“Mom-“

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “you want to be with the family, you be here for all…not just good. The bad too.”

“Mom…I-I’m trying to be here…”

“No…you start another day,” she answered, shaking her head firmly once again, “you come by when Jacob and his fiancé not here…you come by when Bethany not here. You come by without her! I don’t know this strange woman!”

“Fi-fiance?”

“Jacob was tired of waiting…he proposed to her after diner…go home Victor…”

“But mom-“

Victors’ words were cut off by the sight of his mother closing the door in his face. His heart all but broke as he heard the voices inside. The curtains were drawn, and he couldn’t see in, but he knew that everyone was inside without him.

“What a bitch!” the blonde frowned from his side, “isn’t she supposed to be happy to see you or something? You’re her son.”

“Yeah…our family doesn’t really work like that,” Victor frowned, “and don’t call my mom a bitch…she has every right to lock me out after what I did to her and my brother.”

“What’d you do that’s so bad?”

“I walked out on them first…”

Chapter 3

#back to you #victor tan #swat #swat au #lapd #lapd swat #20 squad #fei tan #jacob tan #police #cops

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