#alfredo d x reader

[cybrs4pphic]

camgirl pt 2!!

camgirl!reader x abby

afab/fem!reader, squirting (:p), full nelson (:0), abby yearns to be inside you, fuckin on the first date, reader has no idea abby knows abt her sex work, kinda awkward first-time sexual tension lol, abby has a fat dick (:D), this is so long???????

18+ mdni (goodbye minors)

it’s the next day and abby is still trying to work up the courage to text you. she doesn’t want to sound boring, but she also doesn’t wanna overdo it. she’s laying in bed, your number typed into the chat, her fingers hovering over the keys.

‘hey, you gave me your number at the coffee shop yesterday and i thought you were really pretty so… i’m abby,’

her thumb was now just hovering over the blue arrow to send the message before hitting it, eventually sending the message. abby immediately shuts her phone off tossing it on the bed trying to find something to distract herself with while she waits.

abby decides to just turn on some show she’s seen a million times. a few hours later you text her back with a ‘hiii abby!! thank u!! sorry, was at work :( i’d love to do somethin w you sometime soon if ur down :p,’

she’s almost, almost, embarrassed at how fast she replies. ‘you’re okay, how was work today? and i’d love to. what did you have in mind?,’

‘well, if u wanted to hangout today, i wouldnt mind just gettin to know you like at mine or somethin, i’ll cook u dinner too whatcha want :3,’

abby’s gonna blow up. ‘i’m not picky, surprise me. and that sounds great, how does 7 sound then?’

‘perfect, i’ll see you soon!’ you send her your address in a separate message with a little heart. abby could actually pass away right now.

2 hours later it’s 7:05 and abby’s standing outside your door, not wearing anything too special— just jeans and a shirt taking a deep breath before knocking. a few second later she hears the door unlocking and opening.

she sees you, looking cute as ever. she then hears the sweetness of your voice inviting her in, abby mustering up a smile through the nerves.

“okay, so, i‘m makin’ chicken alfredo if that works for you?”

“s’perfect,” abby slurs out, practically soaking her underwear watching you cook, mainly your ass in those stupid leggings. is she wearing underwear? floods abby’s thoughts.

“almost done. if you wanna go sit down i’ll get everything ready,” you turn around giving abby a quick smile before returning to your cooking.

abby’s in heaven right now. you sitting across from her, just getting to know each other. finding out you both actually have so much in common makes her feel ecstatic. you guys are having such a good time talking you both nearly forget about the food.

“you’re a great cook,” abby says as you, blushing, take her plate from her placing it in the sink after rinsing it off.

“thank you! tried really hard on this one actually,” you say, giggling. yeah, abby’s obsessed. she needs to be inside you, making you a mess on her cock-

“wanna watch a movie ‘er somethin’?” you interrupt her thoughts.

“what kinda movie?”

“was thinkin’ something scary, if you’re down?”

“works for me,” abby replies, moving to sit next to you on the couch as you scroll through the vast amount of horror movies on whatever streaming app you picked.

“oh! how ‘bout the new texas chainsaw?” you don’t even give abby a chance to reply before you hit play— not like she really cares what you guys watch anyway.

abby has her arm around the back of the couch manspread while you have your knees tucked under you half sitting on your butt half on your heels next to her. within the first five minutes of the movie, she has her arm draped over your side mindlessly drawing patterns into your hips and thighs while you lay on her chest.

you guys get about halfway through the movie before abby breathes out, “hey.”

“yeah?” you reply, picking your head up to meet her eyes.

abby glances at your lips, before asking, “can i kiss you?” to which you just nod a bunch.

abby leans in meeting you halfway to finally kiss you. not long after, she’s grabbing your hips pulling you onto her lap so you’re straddling her, deepening the kiss.

you pull away first, gasping for air. abby’s also gasping for air, but she could kiss you til she passes out, honestly.

“tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay?” abby breathes out as she toys with the hem of your shirt. you nod as a reply.

“words,” abby says bluntly.

“yes,” you breathe out, still catching your breath. abby wastes no time pulling you out of your shirt and bra before taking her own off.

“god, fuck, c’mere,” she’s pushing your hips up so that your tits are eye level with her before she immediately latches onto your tit. one hand is groping your ass while her other hand is toying with your other nipple. jesus, her hands are so fucking cold you’re practically shaking under her touch.

your hands run down her chest, stopping to play with her tits before sliding down to the button on her jeans.

“take ‘em off,” you whine out. abby happily obliges, gently grabbing u by the hips before laying you down on the couch. she gets up undoing her pants sliding them off. she’s immediately on top of you, thumbs under the waistband of your leggings breathing out a “can i?”

“please,” your voice barely above a whisper, but abby’s already peeling your leggings off realizing you, in fact, were not wearing underwear.

“s’like you wanted to get fucked tonight,” abby lets out a small laugh.

“by you,” you shoot back as you spread your legs in front of her making abby blush as she leans forward to kiss your inner thighs, seeing your glistening cunt clenching around nothing. she starts sucking like she’s about to leave a hickey, making your legs shake from the sensitivity.

“abby, please,” you breathe out.

“please what?

“fuck me, abby, please need to feel you,” you whine out reaching out to wrap your fingers in her hair.

“don’t have a strap, ba-”

“i do,” you cut her off. “come with me,” you pull her up by her hair giving her a quick kiss before getting up, taking abby’s hand, and practically skipping to your bedroom. once you open the door abby immediately recognizes it. your bed in the center of the room against the back wall, a desk across from the bed, probably where you set up your camera. what’s new to her is all the decorations that she didn’t usually see when you were live.

“cute room,” abby states as you’re digging through your closet for a dildo.

“thanks! what kinda cock you want?” you ask her it so casually abby nearly.

“how many do you have?” abby questions you back.

“a bunch,” you giggle.

“what, are you some kind of pornstar?” abby smirks and you can practically hear the smirk in the way she asks the question. you have the dildo in your hand, but you freeze at her question. you know it’s a joke, a rhetorical question, so you just laugh it off bringing her the dick.

“you seem like a fat cock kinda girl,” you smile handing abby the harness and dildo.

“and you seem like you love taking fat cock,” abby fires back sliding the harness up her legs, securing it. “now where were we?” abby says, sliding her hands up your stomach to your breasts watching them spill out from her fingers. you lean up to catch her lips in another kiss, quickly deepening it by tilting your head to the side and allowing abby’s tongue access to your mouth. she’s grabbing your hips and placing you on your bed before attacking your neck and chest with kisses.

“fuck, these tits are perfect,” abby says as she slides two fingers down your cunt, teasing your entrance. “you can take two fingers, right, baby? gotta get you ready for my cock,” you practically moan at her words and she’s barely touching you. is she even real?

“yes, yes! please just touch me, abby,” abby responds by sliding her middle and ring finger into you searching for that soft spot. she’s fucking her fingers back into you,, eventually finding your g-spot, hitting it with the tips of her fingers making you let out a mix between a gasp and a moan.

“found it,” she smirks to herself. she really can’t believe she’s actually touching you right now; this is like a dream come true for her. countless nights of her watching you touch yourself and her finally being the one to make you shake and moan under her touch. she has to fuck you.

“do you have lube?” she asks to which you nod telling her where it is. abby gets up squirting some lube onto the cock you gave her, taking her hand making sure it’s covered.

“are you ready?” she asks looking up at you, her hand still on her cock, stroking it like it’s attached to her. you give her a few eager nods followed by a ‘yes’. abby walks over to you, pushing you on your back before asking if you’re ready again like she’s scared she’s gonna hurt you

“please fuck me, abby,” you get right to the point and abby nods before pushing the dildo into your weeping cunt with her hips. the way you’re gasping and whining just from her putting it in makes abby want to absolutely ruin you. abby needs to fuck you so well every time you touch yourself on camera all you can think of is her.

abby begins rocking her hips back and forth at a pretty slow pace, nearly pulling out completely before pushing herself right back in, where she belongs, you letting out little whimpers every time she pushes back in.

“faster, please, abby,” you whine out as she’s pulling out.

“gladly,” abby takes your legs, throwing them over her shoulders before leaning forward to properly fuck you. abby’s fucking you faster like you requested but it’s still not deep enough for your liking.

“abby abby deeper, please please,” you plead for her.

“can i try somethin’?” abby questions to and you, obviously, tell her yes. before you know it abby’s completely pulled out of you, whining at the empty feeling, before she’s leaning her upper back on the bed frame, patting her lap for you to straddle her.

“face away from me, baby,” abby says.

“what’re you plannin’?” you giggle out, smiling at her.

“‘ts a surprise,” she smiles back before patting her lap again to which you throw a leg over her lap (abby definitely slapped your ass) before settling right in front of the dildo.

“now what?” abby put her feet up on the bed and threads her arms underneath your thighs beginning to pull them up towards your chest.

“relax f’me,” she says quietly from behind you causing you to relax into her hold, your back to her chest. once you’re fully in abby’s grasp, you take her cock sliding it back into you.

“you good?” abby questions to which you nod and abby’s hands snake around the back of your neck, forcing you to watch you take her cock.

before you can comprehend it, abby’s fucking you like you’ve never been fucked before. you can feel how tight it is, how deep she is, all of it— you practically feel her in your throat and all you can do is take it and watch.

abby’s grunts mixed with your whines and moans is making abby soak through her fucking underwear

“fuckfuckfuck abby, y’re too deep! please please,”

“you can take it— know you can,” abby replies not letting up on her assault on your cunt. you’re a fucking mess of moans and tears and drool and you can barely handle it when abby’s hand snakes to your clit rubbing it in fast tight circles with her two fingers.

you’re practically fucking sobbing with how she’s stimulating your clit and constantly fucking up into your g-spot. your eyes closes shut as you’re so close to coming.

“eyes open, breathe,”

“can’t— i can’t s’too much, ‘m gonna come,” you’re shocked you can even get out even that much.

“‘m not stoppin’ you,” abby says, not letting up in the slightest. you do your best to keep your breaths steady, but the way your orgasm is building up, it feels different.

“abby… abby abby,” you chant her name, whether it’s a warning or a plea, she doesn’t care. all abby cares about right now is the way her hands and thighs are being soaked right now. your mouth is hanging open in a silent scream just watching the way you gush all over abby’s cock.

“did you just fuckin’ squirt,” abby’s giddy right now.

“are you even human?” you breathe out to which abby just lets out a laugh, releasing you from her grasp causing you to practically collapse on top of her.

“so the answer’s yes,” abby smirks, brushing her fingers gently along the back of your neck, where she knows she definitely put too much pressure on while fucking you.

you feel her slide out of you as you roll onto your stomach eyeing her up and down. you freeze as you hear her say

“i know you’re a camgirl,”

“what?”

pt 3 maybe :3 this is the longest thing ive ever written

[tiredmetalenthusiast]

A Date With Joyous News! John Price x F!reader

This is for @glitterypirateduck John Price writing challenge! Wanted to try doing a longer fic. Scenarios used were 7. ‘Date Night’ and 8. A confession or secret is made, revealed, or discovered’

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mention of pregnancy, implied NSFW.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day had started off as a soft morning, slowly waking up to John’s arms wrapped firmly around you and softly snoring. When you both had finally woken up and gotten out of bed he brought up the plans he had for the day.

”How about a night out today, Love?” You giggled and leaned into his shoulder. “John, we're married, you don’t have to try and win me over anymore.” He kissed the top of your head and breathed in your scent, “Well I’m going to anyway. I’m taking you on a date tonight, be ready by 7pm sweetheart.” “Where are we going tonight?” “It’s a surprise.” You nodded and kissed his cheek before the two of you went off to do your daily tasks, excited for the date later on.

6:45pm:

John stood at the mirror trimming his beard to look presentable, from the corner of his eye he spots you in the bathroom. Dressed to the nines and looking just as ravishing as when you both got married. Red dress fitting you in all the right places, makeup dark and seductive, the dark red lipstick doing things to him. “Are you ready to go luv?” You peeked from behind the door and nodded, walking out of the bathroom to grab your heels and purse. He holds out his arm and you take it giggling, as he leads you to the front door of the flat and to the car, letting your arm go to open the door for you. After you had gotten in he went to his own side and the drive to the date began.

Your eyes lit up as you saw the restaurant John had pulled up to. “Really? You got a reservation?!” “I did luv. You’ve mentioned wanting to go here for some time. Let’s go.” He gets out and walks around to your side, opening the door and helping you out. The Maître D’ greets you both upon entrance.

The young man seems nervous, glancing at John before speaking, “How can I help you both today?” “Reservation for 2, Under John Price.” The young man, Sam, checks the list before motioning for the two of you to follow. “This way please. Your table is ready.” Following Sam towards the back of the restaurant, he stops at a table and allows you and John to seat yourselves before handing over two menus. John watches you as you gaze around the restaurant in amazement. 

“The decor is so beautiful! How far ahead did you have to book?” “A few months, but seeing you happy is worth it.” The waitress came, took both of your orders, and went on her way. Dinner came and went, conversation was had, but John had noticed your lack of wine, deciding not to comment.

After dinner the drive home was spent discussing the food and how amazing the service was. “The lemon chicken pasta with alfredo was so good! The sauce was so smooth and had a nice flavor to it! How was your steak? It looked juicy.” “The steak was delicious sweetheart. The meat was tender and well cooked.” John smiled as he watched you beam brightly and gush over the food again, particularly dessert.

Once home you took off your heels with a pleased sigh, groaning low in relief. As you went about your routine to get ready for bed you noticed John standing by the door, shoulder leaning against it as he watched you slip out of your dress. “How about a movie before bed?” “That sounds lovely John.” He leaves to pick out a movie and you head to take off your makeup and change into pjs. Once dressed and noticing that John was changed as well, wearing those sinful gray sweatpants you loved so much and no shirt. You sat with him under the blanket and cuddled into his side, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and you turned his head to give him a kiss, tasting the whiskey he had for dinner. “I love you so much John.” He kisses you back, hand wrapping around the back of your head to hold you there, “I love you too, so much luv.” You smile wider and watch the movie.

Halfway through he brings up the wine, it's your favorite thing to have when you guys go on dinner dates. “Didn’t feel up to the wine tonight?” You stop mid laugh and turn to face him. “Thought I wouldn’t notice? What’s wrong?” “John?” “Yes luv?” “Do you remember when you came back last month? And we had that wonderful, earth shattering sex?” “I do. Dream about it when I’m away. Did something happen? I didn’t hurt you did I?” “No! No nothing like that. Uhm…I just…” “Darling if I did something wrong please let know. I could never live with myself if-…” “John, I'm pregnant!”

He was absolutely stunned into silence. “Pardon?” “I-I mean I’m only a month along but-!” “I’m gonna be a dad? You’re really pregnant?” You nodded nervously, tears starting to well up in the corners of your eyes. “Who else knows?” “I tried calling you but Gaz had answered the phone, saying you were on the line with Kate. Told Gaz all about it.” Price thought for a moment. “Ah guess that would explain his sudden excitement that day.” He hugged you close and kissed you passionately. “So I’m gonna be an actual dad then?” “Baby you’re already an actual dad.” You snickered. “The boys don’t count.” 

You both laughed, falling back onto the cushions to celebrate the wonderful news with a night of steamy passion.

[hoshigray]

Only You Can Tie My Hands | K. Nanami

Hear me out: Nanami returns home from work to his loving partner, and you happily welcome him. Taking off his blazer, led him to the bedroom, giving him a "massage," doing all the things to help ease the poor blonde of stress. But what does a "massage" entail, and why does it involve his necktie?

A/n: Although it may seem like I only write for Toji because most of the stuff I put out is about him (bc I'm his one and only domestic wife outside of his late one whom I respect), don't get it twisted!! Some of these JJK men can make me swoon just like him (Choso and Nanami, my darlings~~~), so I'm writing yet another lil something in honor of one of them! This draft was an option for a poll but wasn't picked for a drawing. However, that doesn't mean I can't post it at all sooooo you get a win, Nanami stans :D

Cw: slight dom! reader x Nanami - the reader is androgynous or gn! bc I wrote pretty ambiguously in this piece - slight bondage (you tie up Nanami's wrist with a ribbon cloth) - sex with a blindfold (using Nanami's tie) - sensual touching - kisses on the body - handjob - ball massaging - blowjob - pet names (Nanami calls you beloved, darling, love, sweet pea; you call him "babe" and "honey") - throatfucking kind of (??) bc you go at your own pace.

Wc: 2k

It was a difficult day, but that's usual for Nanami Kento.

Today he had meetings after meetings with many of his sorcerer subordinates, had to go on two missions, and, of course, had to deal with the ever-annoyingly casual Gojo Satoru.

Nothing he couldn't handle, but the poor blonde man would be a fool to say he wasn't exhausted. All he wants to do is be in his space, his home. He can practically feel the soft surface of his bed.

It's all he's thinking about when he opens the door to his apartment and crouches to take off his shoes.

"Kento!"

Okay, that was a lie. There was something else he's been dying to see once he left work. Something more precious than his bed.

Then comes you walking from the corner, and your bright smile was the first thing that captured him. It was filled with such a glow that his fatigue almost vanished there and then.

He offers a small smile and straightens himself to greet you. "Hello, my love."

Your smile beams harder. It was a good thing Nanami wore his goggles before removing them. You rush to kiss him, and he hums into your lips. Then your gleeful glow is substituted with instant worry. "Oh honey, what happened to you? You look as if you didn't eat anything!"

"I didn't," Nanami admits as you unbutton and take his tan blazer. He follows you to the bedroom, where you hang his suit in the closet while he flops onto the bed.

"Kentyyy~" You use his nickname before you lecture him. A smile quirks up on his lips because you're the only one who refers to him with said name, and he prefers to keep it that way. "You're so lucky I cooked up something. You know you have to eat!"

Nanami hums, readjusting to lie on the pillow and headboard. His eyes follow your figure sit beside him, a warm hand coming up to stroke his cheek. "I know, darling. I was just caught up in too much, is all."

And you know he's telling the truth. It's the fourth day in a row that Nanami comes from work looking way more exhausted than he'd allow. But it was worse yesterday when he returned from past daylight hours, surprising even him. His face still looks the same, but you can make out slight depictions of dark circles forming under his eyes and muscles tensing, not from lack of sleep but because of his body being worn out.

Despite your worry, all he asks is for you to stay safe and smile. And you do just that with a willing heart. Thank goodness it's a Friday.

"Well. since the weekend is finally upon us," a brow is drawn upwards from your building excitement. "I cooked your favorite: chicken alfredo. But!" You cheekily stop him from saying something because his mouth opens, yet no words dare leave until you finish your sentence. "With a bread bowl! And yes, the pasta isn't ribbon."

A chuckle is well-received as you smile harder. "Oh, really? Is that what you've been working on all day?"

"Uhh, of course!" You proudly huff as you lightly pinch his cheek. "You've been working too hard this week, so you deserve to be spoiled by me!"

"You spoil me already just by living with me, my love." He leans in to kiss you, which you gladly reciprocate. One kiss leads to two, and two leads to three.

You break the kiss when you feel a hand finds its way behind your head, giggling at his sneaky action. "Aht aht aht, can't go having dessert without a meal."

"Oh, I know," his forehead gently lands on yours, "but wouldn't you be so kind as to let a tired man like me have a little taste?"

The way his mocha brown eyes survey yours, practically begging you for any sign of yielding to his request, it almost has you drop your guard down. But something else comes to your mind, and you can feel your grin go from ear to ear.

"Perhaps I have an idea to relieve you from your stress, Mr. Nanami." You lightly push his back onto the headboard, your eyes silently commanding him not to move from that spot. He indulges as you get up and grab for something in the closet. You come back to the bed with a smooth ribbon fabric. "Please put your hands up above your head."

A brow is raised, yet Nanami continues to oblige your wishes. With grace and patience, you wrap the fabric around his wrists and tie them onto the headboard. Nanami now voices his thoughts. "Something tells me you're going to get more out of this than me."

You only giggle as you untie his necktie from his blue dress shirt. "I wouldn't say that when I haven't even started yet, Kenty." You then tell him to close his eyes and wrap the dotted material around them.

Completely vulnerable in his line of sight, Nanami feels the weight of your body dent the bed as you move from the side of him down to where his legs are. He feels your hands slide down from his chest in tease, fingers delicately tracing his abdomen after you unbutton his shirt to reveal his well-built physique. You sensually kiss his body as your hands roam to his tan pants.

His breathing goes uneven when you spread his dressed legs apart, leaving his clothed groin in your line of vision. He hears you hum in loving anticipation. Oh, you're definitely getting a kick out of this. The sound of the zipper on his trousers alerts him, and he'd be a fool if he denied the titillation brewing inside him.

As for you, the image of his hard cock in his briefs has you swooned. The urge to pounce him beats your head like a drum, but that will have to wait for later. Because right now is meant to be a moment for him to relax and possibly give you something to do after cooking all day. The groans from Nanami when you stroke his member through the underwear are so hot to the ears that your ass sways from side to side to ease the heat growing south.

When his length is set free, your breath hitches at the marvelous sight. Even after all this time being together, you can't control the arousing pulsation of your core that manages to creep up whenever you see his dick. It's good that Nanami's blindfolded because how you liked your bottom lip would've baffled him.

Speaking of him, the blonde isn't used to this. When it comes to intimacies, looking at you is the highlight. Watching you ride him while his rough hands propel you down to his cock, how your body struggles to take his fingers drilling inside your sensitive hole, or the beatific expression on your face as you beckon him to come close for a kiss as he drives himself deep within you.

Just looking at you as he does whatever with your body can drive him crazy. Take that away, and Nanami feels like he's in an uncertain territory where you do what you want with him. It's a rarity and totally out of routine...That doesn't mean he doesn't like it, though.

How can he, when he silently gasps for air when he feels a wet muscle slide along the underside of his shaft? Or when your lips place teasing kisses on the beautiful veins that decorate his dick? And, oh Lord, when your tongue laps around the tip, causing the man to bite down on his lip?

You laugh at his attempt to suppress himself. "It's alright, honey, no need to limit yourself. Let it all out." You coo at him as your hand snakes up to his dick as the other massages his inner thigh. Pretty fingers slide up and down the length, and the pads of your fingertips rub against the sensitive tip, causing the poor blonde to groan through gritted teeth.

"Haaaah, haaah—Hnngh!" You could listen to his whimpers all day. "Aghhh—Y/n, my beloved, you're so..." The way he slightly ruts his groin towards you is telling. You smile at him even when he can't see it, but he knows you are. He knows you're watching and listening to him dissolve into a mess.

"I know, babe. I know just how to make you relax, huh." The hand on his inner thigh moves to his sack as the other strokes the base. Nanami jolts at both your hands, sculpting his dick simultaneously as his mind runs in circles at the pleasurable torture.

When he senses your plump lips faintly kiss the tip of his cock, he knows he's too far in. He curses the restraints on his wrists and eyes because he only wants to see you take his length to the base right now. Now those thoughts are challenged as your lips take in the pink tip of his member and slowly inch downwards.

Your jaw relaxes while you take in all of him at your own pace, his cock sinking further into your mouth until your lips almost brush his pelvis. His penis pulsating inside your mouth and throat has you under a euphoric spell. You slowly bob your head up and down, putting your hands on his thighs to hold him down before he starts thrusting and screwing with your slow tempo.

Nanami does all he can to maintain his composure, but God, the feeling of your throat on his shaft is doing wonders. Not only do the inner walls of your oral cavity feel so warm around him, but the blindfold has him using his imagination of how you look right now. He can just picture your pretty hooded eyes looking up at him, gauging his reactions as your ass rocks to and fro, tolerating the neediness between your legs.

It kills him that he can't physically see and touch you; however, your fleshy touch, paired with his creative fantasy, is doing just as much. That is, until a hand returns to massaging his balls, urging him to hunch further. He's now close.

"Hnngh!! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," If you weren't so full in the mouth, you'd giggle at the blonde's curses. "I'm about to—Mhmm! Oh God..."

You decide to help him in his release, slowly withdrawing his cock from your mouth and going for the head, your tongue lapping and licking in his most sensitive glands. Your hand on his sack kneed presses down harder, and Nanami wastes no time shooting his load to you. You happily take in his cum with your mouth, none going to waste as you're licking in any excess amounts.

Once he's done ejaculating and you're done drinking his essence, a pop leaves the mark as your lips leave his twitching head while you sigh blissfully.

Nanami breathes heavily in euphoria, "I thought you said...dessert shouldn't come before a meal."

"Don't question the methods of a cook, babe." you climb on top of him to undo the ribbon cloth on the headboard, your pants mixed with his. "So, I hope that helped ease some stress of yours."

"No."

No??

And it was at that moment you realized you probably shouldn't have untied his wrists first. Because one moment you're above him, your back sinking deep into the mattress the next. His hands pin you down by the shoulders, and a leg is positioned between yours, a knee rubbing against the aching sensation between your pants.

Nanami takes off his tie to free his eyes, brown orbs now cast with the intoxicating guise of lust and want. Your blood runs cold. Oh, I'm in danger.

"N-Now, Kenty, we shouldn't be doing this now," you try to plead before he does anything rash. "You have to take a shower and freshen up before dinner or else—"

"No, sweet pea. I don't think it's fair you get to have a piece of me, but I'm subjected to wait afterward to do the same." He removes your pants in seconds and sets your legs on his shoulders. Heat spreads around your face when his face draws near your opening, and you already have a hand grab for his hair in anticipation.

"Dinner can wait, darling. Right now, I just want you."

[airiat]

northern sky, seven. ✧˚ · .

{masterlist | beginning}

pairing: joel miller x you / f!reader (wc: 35.3k, 10 chapters)

rating: explicit, 18+

work tags: no outbreak, age difference (27/42), hurt/comfort, ptsd, fate, ldr, explicit sexual content (rough/romantic sex, light d/s & sadomasochism, dirty talk, choking/biting, oral (f & m receiving), unprotected piv, aftercare)

work warnings: themes of death (more details here, contains spoilers), depictions of mental illness/alcoholism, light discussion of theoretical relationship with minor (not condoned by either party), light blood kink

ch. summary: take him back in time with you. he won't flinch.

{ao3}

note: this is the one where the themes of death really come into play. i'll include the more detailed warning once more here, but it does contain spoilers. know that while my depiction is fairly detailed, it is also written gracefully and mindfully. it takes place in the past and is narrated by someone who holds back on thinking about/remembering it.

seven. {4k}

There’s an Italian restaurant in the heart of downtown. It’s one of those with the red-checked tablecloths, the stained glass light fixtures, the little candles on the tables, all that fake plastic greenery. It’s even got the worn old carpet, flattened from forty years of shoes.

This is where Joel’s taken you for dinner. You can’t blame him; it’s the nicest place in town. In fact, the only place that isn’t tacos or McDonald’s. It’s just that this place has seen your whole life. 

You could point out the table you sat at during your eighth birthday party, where you ate too much too fast and were sick in the bathroom. The other table you and your best friend ate at with your parents to celebrate your middle school graduation. Then, maybe, the booth you’d shared with your first crush, where you’d sat next to him on the same side, eaten fettuccine alfredo, and held hands under the table. 

Then, there was no hole torn ragged and ruthless in the paper-thin fabric of your being. Then, there was all the hope of a life unmarred by mistake after mistake after mistake. Then, you were made of roses. And, so, how can you talk about those times without drawing Joel’s gaze to how different it is now? You can’t, so you won’t.

But it would be something to talk about, at least.

You’re sitting at a booth with him, studying the menu, pretending like you’re going to order something other than fettuccine alfredo and a glass of chardonnay when only the drink choice has changed over these years. And Joel has his face buried in it, too, but probably not for the same reason. You’re buying more time.

So, how exactly do you talk to a man who could drive a car while you were still in diapers? Actually talk. Not just give your emotional, half-formed confessionals or let him furnish the fleeting silence with half-sincere declarations of devotion. Talk. How did you grow up? What are your parents like? What did you use to dream about?

You don’t know. 

Lucky is the waitress approaching when the lull has just started to drag on too long. Unlucky is her being a girl you went to school with who you never really liked. You’re adults now, both stuck in the same town of purgatory, but boredom still flourishes. She won’t ask her nasty questions, at least not to your face.

Girl, whose man is this? He’s not yours, is he? He looks old enough to be your dad.

Her shrill giggle rings in your ear even ten years later…except, wait, she really is giggling right now. Your eyes snap up from the menu just in time to see her hand on Joel’s arm, mascara-laden eyelashes batting. No, Joel isn’t yours, but your hackles are raised. You’d bare your teeth, snatch her hand right off of him. But, then, you pause. He’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Eyes that are looking only at you.

You bite back your smirk and then, even as her back is turned to you, say, “I’m gonna do the fettuccine alfredo and a glass of chardonnay.”

She whips her head around like she’s just realized you’re there. “Huh, what?”

You repeat yourself, and she fishes for her little notebook to scribble the order down. “Right, sorry,” she says. And then, back to Joel. “For you, sir?”

He squints down at the menu, points at something printed there. “Uh, the meat ravioli, please.”

“And to drink?”

“I’ll have…” his finger drifts to something else on the menu “...a glass of cabernet.”

You never would have taken him for someone who’d drink wine. But when you imagine tasting its flavor on his lips later, you’re glad he is. And, all the same, hope you can somehow slip the image inside the waitress’s head. You can have him, but not her.

She collects the menus from the table with a tight, polite smile. “I’ll have that right out for you.”

“Well, she seemed…friendly,” Joel hedges once she’s gone.

You nod. “Yeah, she was so friendly when she made fun of me for not shaving my legs in seventh grade.”

He grimaces. “Take it you weren’t friends, then?”

“No, we just grew up together in this town. Another one of us who couldn’t get out of it.”

“So, you’ve really lived here your whole life, huh?” he asks.

You cup your hands around the candle’s warm glass, make the flame dance with your tremor. “From birth until death, probably.”

“You don’t think you’ll ever leave?”

You look up at him, find him leaning on his elbows, hands outstretched almost enough to reach yours. “I dunno.” You shrug. “The mortgage is paid off, and I do have a life here. However small it is. Maybe I’d go somewhere warmer, but that’s never seemed like a good enough reason.”

“No, probably not,” he says, glancing at the candle. “You sure don’t like being cold, though.”

You chuckle. “What about you, then? Always lived in Austin?”

“Born and raised in Dallas, then my brother and me set off on our own. Chose Austin. He’s five years younger, always been a pain in my ass, but I liked having him around.” Joel smiles faintly.

“I have a sister,” you begin tentatively. “She’s a little older than me. Lives in Denver with her husband.”

“Oh, don’t think you ever told me that. You see much of her?”

“I haven’t seen her in a few years, no.”

“Denver’s not too far, though.”

This would be the perfect time for the food to arrive. Never thought you’d want to see that girl again so badly, but she and your two meals remain frustratingly out of sight. So, you have to continue. 

“We…haven’t gotten along for a while. So, we don’t talk, definitely don’t see each other.”

This is the truth, yes, but you’re leaving out the part about how your phone has been burning with an ignored call from her received last week. And then another two weeks earlier. And then a third, a month before that. 

“Tommy and I haven’t always gotten along, either. There was a time we didn’t talk for, oh, I dunno, six months. But we made up, realized we were just being idiots.”

Joel, in all his generous kindness, is just trying to be helpful. You know this, but a small burst of resentment still tears through you. Whatever his story, it can’t be anything like yours. Your sister was your best friend. Now, you don’t even know her.

“What were you fighting about?” you ask, just to prove yourself correct.

“There was a girl we both wanted. He was the one who got her. Stole her, I said,” Joel answers with a laugh. 

See? You were right. Something stupid and incomparable. He could never know this pain the way you do. 

But Joel lowers his head to peer into your eyes. “You alright, honey?”

When you blink, a pearl of water falls from your lashes. You’re actually crying? No, why would you cry? You should answer him, make him stop worrying.

Of course, this is when your food arrives at the table. The glass of wine is set before you, and you pluck it to take a long gulp. The waitress stares at you with a look of stifled revulsion. When you put the glass back down, some of the wine spills over the side with how much you’re trembling.

“I can get you another one,” she says flatly. 

“I think she–” Joel starts to say at the same time you rasp, “I’m fine, thank you.”

“‘Kay,” she says, stepping away from the table like she can’t leave fast enough. “Well, let me know if you need anything else. Enjoy.”

The same fettuccine alfredo that you’ve been having for twenty years is, all of a sudden, deserving of your full attention. You bite into it like you’re expecting an answer to emerge from the depths of this too-rich white sauce. When none comes, you let your fork fall with a wet thwap and then just sit there staring at it.

“If something’s the matter, maybe I can fix it,” Joel says softly.

Your eyes drift up to him slowly because you know there is no fixing it. “Can you travel back in time?”

The candlelight swaths his face in flickering shadows. “Maybe. How far back you wanna go?”

“Two years.”

He nods. “When would you like to go?”

“Can we leave right now?”

“Sure we can,” he answers. 

Your hands have found their way back to the candle. Joel cups them with one of his, the other he raises to get the waitress’s attention. She appears moments later with a smile and those mascara eyelashes.

“Anything I can get for ya?” she asks him cheerily.

“Change of plans,” he tells her. “We’ll need two boxes and the check.”

She gives an exaggerated pout. “Sorry to see you go. I’ll be right back with them.”

“I’m sorry. You didn’t even get to have a bite of your food,” you tell Joel when she’s gone.

He smirks, stabs a ravioli, and shoves it whole into his mouth. Takes a moment to chew, then nods appreciatively. “Good, but I think it’ll be even better tomorrow as leftovers.”

You’ve never really agreed with that notion about leftovers. Probably, Joel’s just trying to make you feel better. It doesn’t work. You eye his full plate with guilt. Maybe tomorrow you’ll cook him something even better to make up for it.

The waitress returns a moment later, sets down two boxes, a plastic bag, and the check. “The drinks are on me,” she says. “Hope you two have a good night.” Then, for the last time, she leaves the table.

Joel reaches for his wallet and pulls out a few bills to tuck into the little black book. Then, he hands one of the boxes to you, goes about heaping his pasta into the other. When you’ve both finished, you stand up. He gets your coat and helps you shrug into it, tosses on his own. 

He leads you out of the restaurant and to the truck, where he opens the door for you, and you huddle in the seat like you usually do until it’s warm enough. When he starts the truck, he cranks the heat up but lowers the volume on the radio.

“So, we headed somewhere, or…tell me what the plan is, darlin’,” Joel says once he’s given you a moment to thaw.

You turn to face him, pull your coat up tighter around your neck. “If I wanted to show you what I’ve been living with for all this time, I wouldn’t expect you to tell me what you are.”

He looks over at you, furrows his brow. “Alright…”

“It’s going to be shocking, I think, and I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave me afterward. If you don’t like what you see me become.”

“Honey, I–”

“It’d be okay, Joel.”

The cab falls still and quiet. Familiar piano notes from the radio waft through the air, blanketing you in a bittersweet sort of peace. Oh no, I see / A spiderweb is tangled up with me. You don’t know if the feeling reaches him too, but across from you, his eyes close briefly and then open again.

“Alright,” he finally says. “Tell me where to go.”

Like the first night you drove together, the only words that pass between you are the directions you speak in a muted tone. Like the first night, the small space is choked with awkwardness. A million questions and the buzz of your nerves fill your head like fuzz. Should you do this? Is he the right person? What will this change?

But, also like the first night, Joel bridges the vast space and threads your fingers with his. 

Yes. If not him, then who else will it be? And as for the change–doesn’t it all change anyway?

Unlike the first night, the drive goes on. Past the edge of town, past where all the lights still reach. You’re left with only the moon and the glittering stars above the snowy slopes of rolling land and the narrow road that traces it. You don’t know if this scares him. It should scare you that you’d let him take you out into the dark. But the place in your chest where fear would appear is left empty. Maybe you deserve whatever would happen to you out here. Maybe it wouldn’t be the first time. 

“You should slow down a little,” you tell him. “It’s coming up. You’ll miss it.”

Joel does what you suggest, and you start to feel where you should stop completely. Feel it in how your body tightens so much that it aches. Feel it in how your breath stops coming. You look out the window and see a dark shape in the field alongside the road.

“Joel, right here,” you whisper.

He comes to a stop on the shoulder, but you don’t make a move to leave your seat, so neither does he. All he does is glance around the area outside the truck, pause on something, and then look back to you. You’re staring down at your interlocked hands, trying to will them still. It never works.

“You can change your mind,” he says gently. “I can turn around and take you home.”

You wish. But you’re trapped here. Trapped here again. “If you don’t know this, then you’ll never know me.”

“But it doesn’t have to be now. We can come back. Maybe when it’s daytime,” Joel says.

You shudder. “It’d be worse during the day.” You’d have to see it all.

“Don’t have to put yourself through this for me. I don’t want you hurtin’.”

But you would be, even if you were a thousand miles away from here. Any time, any place. You tell him this.

Joel takes a deep breath. “Alright,” he says, but it doesn’t sound like he’s alright. “Tell me how to help.”

“Come outside with me.”

You leave the truck before he does, plunging mindlessly into the cold air. But you freeze at the front, hand on the hood like you’re hoping some unseen force will come and glue it down. Someone does come, but it’s Joel there to stand at your side and wait until you’ve outlasted the sticky fear in your lungs. His breath, your breath, hangs in the air as two pale clouds. 

“This isn’t what I wanted,” you begin quietly. “I tried to stop it. Okay? You have to know that.”

“Okay,” Joel says.

You stride forward, stop stiff and still in front of the small wooden cross sunken into the ground next to the road. Joel, your silent shadow, follows and retakes his place beside you. 

“My mom died here,” you tell him.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’.”

The tiny hairs on the back of your neck bristle. He shouldn’t be saying that to you.

“I was with her,” you say. “I was the one driving.” You stoop down to straighten the snow-crusted wreath nestled around the top post. “She was always making me cart her around town. She had her driver’s license, but you’d never see her behind the wheel,” you continue. “So we were always together. But we never really got along.”

She always picked your car as the arena for your fights. Where you couldn’t escape her, but neither could she escape you. She always had something to say about the way you were living. You weren’t doing enough, usually. Where was your greatness? Your ambition? Your sensibility? 

You’re not making enough money with that salon. You don’t contribute anything except a mess of dirty dishes. I want you out of my house. 

It was no different that night.

 Joel is wordless beside you, but you don’t need him to say anything. You just need the strength of his solidness, the warmth, to keep going. You need him to just hear you. To be the first.

“We argued. A lot. For my whole life. Because I was never good enough for her, and she was never afraid of saying that.” You pull your coat tighter around yourself as his hand finds the small of your back, lets you lean into him. “When I was younger, she used to make me cry all the time. It would feel like the world was ending whenever she yelled at me. But, older, I was more immune to it. If she’d yell, I’d yell back. Until I just got so tired, Joel, and then I’d just sit there in silence. Try to shut her out.”

Your ears were ringing, and your skin was so tight around you, like your bones were going to pop through any minute now. She was in the seat next to you, and her words bounced off you like hail on a glass window. But you could still feel them stinging, even if you couldn’t hear them. 

Are you even listening to me? Acknowledge me when I’m speaking to you, you disrespectful little–

“I don’t remember what we were fighting about that night. It was probably about money. It usually was. She’d shit on my work, my business, but then she’d always be asking me to pay for things. Would never deign to get a job of her own,” you tell Joel, and he makes a sound in the back of his throat. “But I was driving, sitting there trying to ignore her. It was the usual story. Except that night–” you swallow, but it feels like you’re choking “--that night she….” You press your palms against your chest, feel the thundering of your heart. “I can’t, Joel,” you gasp.

“You don’t have to, honey,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to.”

You try again. “She–” But you sway on your feet.

He sinks with you, an arm around your shoulders, as you crouch down, trying to make yourself small, trying to hide from the stars and the moon who saw you that night, which twinkle with watery eyes this night. You breathe hoarsely, swipe your eyes clean with a frozen hand. Her cross is right there. She’s not. But the echo of her is. The shadow of her arm reaching over and– 

“She grabbed the wheel,” you force out. “I was ignoring her, and she grabbed the wheel to get my attention.”

You hear his sharp inhale but, louder, you hear the memory of your scream. Maybe hers, too. It never should have been fatal. It wouldn’t have been. But you were so blinded by shock, made dumb by the terror that she would even do that.

“A deer. I saw it too late. When we hit it, we rolled and rolled, and–” Little beans tossed around in a tin can. The groaning of metal. Glass like stardust in your eyes and your mouth. And then silence. A single cloud of hot breath. Blood running in small streams down your face.

Behind your mother’s cross is the ditch where you landed.

You exhale, rise to your feet, slow. Joel rises with you, takes your hand. You jut your chin out towards the spot in the snow. With half-lidded eyes, a vision of your mangled car flickers in and out of existence. “It was December. I was trapped in the wreckage, in the cold, with her body. I don’t know for how long. Someone finally came across me, and I was barely conscious.”

“God.” Joel’s voice cracks and his hand tightens around yours.

A woman’s frantic voice, muddled as though spoken underwater, but familiar. The grinding of your metal coffin being split apart. The pain as it all finally came into sharp focus. A glimpse of your mother’s long hair spilling onto the snow, her bloody hand like a wilted rose. 

You press your face into Joel’s arm, trying to force the image out of your head. But it’s stuck; it’s burned in. You never should have tried to remember. When you pull back, the sleeve of his coat is splotched with tears and snot. You grimace and wipe at it with your sleeve until he looks down and catches your eye.

The look he wears is why you were always so afraid to tell people this story. You don’t deserve his pity, and now that you have it, you don’t know what to do with it. It’s a smooth pebble held in your palms: beautiful but useless. Worthy of a spot on the shelf, not worth enough to keep it from collecting dust.

You pull your gaze from his, break his hold, step to the cross, and yank the wreath off it. You hit it against your thigh a few times to dislodge the snow, then set it back. “I still loved her, even though I hated her,” you say. “She was my mom.”

Without waiting, without another glance, you turn and walk back to the truck, settle down inside. Joel joins you a moment later but doesn’t speak until it’s warm in the cab and you’ve let your coat pool around you.

“My wife, Sarah’s mother,” Joel begins. He’s staring straight ahead, hands limp in his lap. “She took ‘er own life. We were too young, bad for each other, and I was a shitty excuse of a husband.”

 Your head jerks to him, all your self-pity falling away. This is not what you were expecting. No, you were expecting empty platitudes, clumsy attempts at comfort. But this…this is him baring his own wound, showing you how it looks a lot like yours. 

He continues. “I shoulda been able to see something was wrong. If I hadn’t had my head so far up my own ass, I probably would’ve. But I didn’t want to be married. Didn’t want to be a father. I was so fixed on resentin’ her that I just couldn’t see anything but that.”

A prickling coldness runs through your veins. This sounds nothing like the man who has been so gentle to you–the kindest you’ve ever met. Have you been so wrong about him? Have you really been so ruined that you hadn’t even noticed a stone heart?

What kind of man has a wife who killed herself? 

Joel glances over at you like he heard your unspoken question. “I was just about a monster back then. Took me losin’ her to understand that. But she didn’t deserve any of it. I shoulda been better for her. But I still became better for–for–” he gulps, and when he speaks again, his voice is tight “--for Sarah. Made her my whole life, gave everything I had to her. Maybe it’s my fault she don’t have a mother anymore.”

“Joel…” A thousand different words press at your lips. He’s no longer who he said he once was. You know this. He doesn’t deserve to carry this pain. You would pour out everything you wished someone would have told you. It can’t be your fault, you’re not something horrible, you tried, you did the best you could. But he stops you with a hand on your knee.

“I just wanted to tell you, after what you told me, but it’s still my cross to bear,” he says. “There’s nothin’ you have to say.”

And so, you say nothing. You only just reach across the waiting distance and pull Joel into you. Find the hollow of his throat, take your lips and soothe the ache that comes from speaking those kinds of words. Let his hands come up to thread into your hair, sigh as he empties your mind of the things you had to remember. 

There’s a song in the background on the low radio. You don’t have the wits to catch much more than the velvety guitar, but you do hear: Oh I'll never know what makes this man / With all the love that his heart can stand / Dream of ways to throw it all away. 

It sinks into you, and you pull back to look at him. He meets you with eyes deeper than the earth. You want to ask if this is what he means, if he could have written those words himself, if he’d throw your love away should you ever give it to him.

But there’s no way to say it. Your mouth won’t even form the question. There is no asking it. Instead, you just pull his hand into your lap and hope you can convince him not to.

[ye-local-simp]

Hello! I hope your day is going well! I’d like to request a BSD matchup and…I apologize in advance for the chaos of the order the information is in.

I’m a 5’4” 1/16th Russian, 1/8th Asian Caucasian female and I’m 18 years old. I’m an ISTP I’m generally pretty energetic, but not overbearing energetic and I only fall asleep when my eyelids tell me to (unless I have homework due for a class I’m falling behind in the next day) and I’m not one to leave my dorm unless I need to eat or go to class or meet my friends/family. I take responsibility if I know no one else is going to do it in a messy organized way. I’m easily taken advantage of because of my naivety and gullibility. I act like I know more about death, murder, and dark things like that when really, I’m too weak to actually hurt a fly, I’m just skin and bones. I’m very prone to mental breakdowns over the smallest things a friend might say. I love to write stories, read manga, and watch anime. I’m not good at arguing my points, but I can make people addicted to things I’m obsessed with. If I become interested in something, I become obsessed with it, so I have read the light novels, Beast AU, seen the entire series twice and Dead Apple. I don’t mind spoilers though. I love making new OCs for different shows (but I’m EXCESSIVELY SADISTIC about it) and I love to read Yandere!Reader, Suicidal!Reader, Depressed!Reader, and [other anime character]!Reader, Character x Readers to soothe my depressive tendencies. I have severe epilepsy that’s near incurable and the most dangerous seizures happen in my sleep 1-2 times a month, consciously 1 day out the year, but I’ll have like 2-3 of them in intervals and these seizures can risk me suffocating if not treated properly. my grades are mostly A’s and B’s except for a couple classes with D’s. I eat like one or two meals a day (sometimes none because of medication) and when I do, it’s like two pieces of pizza or a tiny bowl of alfredo pasta, so I’m really skinny and light. I have slight acne, but it’s not too noticeable. I can be self-conscious and have depressive (sometimes suicidal) tendencies because I get into my own head, and I have undiagnosed ADD. I rarely use social media unless it’s necessary for school or long-distance communication. I work at a convenience store and I’ve mastered pizza making, cashiering, donut frosting, sandwich making, and coffee making because of it. I just adore that industry and especially the political area of it even though I ignore politics outside of the convenience industry. I’ve always been prone to crushing on villains in shows or manipulative/sadistic/intelligent characters, though I have made an exception for Chuuya because let’s be real, he’s had more hero-like roles than villain-like roles.

You are match up with...

Dazai!

-He also makes sure you eat at least enough - he understands what it is like to not be able to feel like eating and doesn't want you to have that habit.

-He already knows how naïve you could be.

-So he will help you by making sure you don't waste your breath on people who want to take advantage.

-Like even though he is suicidal himself, he doesn't want you to mentally suffer that badly, so he will comfort you by physical contact and gifts.

-He is protective of you, so he doesn't want you to end up in hospital for something he could have prevented, so he makes sure no light flashes near you

-In his opinion, suicide shouldn't be painful, and that is a toll. It should be enjoyable when you do it with him.

-Wants to make pizzas etc with you, you made it sound so fun.

[k-k0129]

I posted 3,088 times in 2022

That's 1,267 more posts than 2021!

2 posts created (0%)

3,086 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@honeystwiggypeach

@resanoona

@erin-bo-berin

@joekeeryswife

@boldlyvoid

I tagged 72 of my posts in 2022

#chicago pd - 32 posts

#one chicago - 25 posts

#jay halstead - 24 posts

#jay halstead x reader - 24 posts

#chicago pd imagine - 23 posts

#chicago fire - 23 posts

#jay halstead imagine - 22 posts

#chicago fire imagine - 17 posts

#kelly severide - 13 posts

#kelly severide x reader - 13 posts

Longest Tag: 77 characters

#thats right folks....its a rainbow now of course i'm late for pride month tho

My Top Posts in 2022:

#2

get to know me better

thank you for the tag lovely @pappydaddy

relationship status: single and ehhhh idk if im looking or not. Unless there's an opening to be a celeb crush of mines girlfriend

favorite color: Green!!

favorite food: Any pasta dish or a good chicken wrap

song suck in my head: Ladies in LA By Zachary Gordon (yes the kid from diary of a wimpy kid and hes hot now) and JAMEZ Or Scotty Doesn't Know By Lustra

the last thing you googled: How to make homemade alfredo

time: 6:39 PM

dream trip: England or Canada because I have online friends in both places and Id like to meet

last thing you read: Bitten series by R.L. Stine

last book you enjoyed reading: Fix her up by Tessa Bailey

last book you hated reading: Bitten Series by R.L. Stine which is unusual because Stine is a great author I just didn't vibe with the book as much as I had hoped

favorite thing to cook/bake: Tater-tot casserole because its so fast and easy to make and comfort food

most niche hate/dislike: Bananas. I absolutely hate bananas. no further questioning please

opinions on circuses: I was in a play about one and it was cool. I don't mind Circuses but sad they aren't super relevant as they used to be. I loved the one circus episode of criminal minds tho.

do you have a sense of direction: NO its better to leave me as your last option to find our way out of things. I end up finding my way out of things by accident.

d&d character: Sadly don't have one but I'd love to get into it because its honestly pretty cool. I played a demo campaign like two years ago that was really cool so I wouldn't mind it again.

Who should carry this on? I'm not going to to tag anyone but if you stumble upon this go ahead and do it!

0 notes - Posted August 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Just scrolling on Etsy and this pops up

EXCUSE ME

1 note - Posted February 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

I don’t even want to talk about my number one post…

[5lbsofsmarties]

Winter Writing Challenge 2k18: Day 2

Word Count: 515 “I’m pretty sure it’s frostbite and not Jack Frost nipping at my nose.” Alfredo Diaz

“Who thought it was a good idea to leave Texas and go to Colorado in the middle of December?”

The painfully whiny tone in Alfredo’s voice only made you smile to yourself as you continued to help remove your bags from the back of the rental car. “It was your idea, babe,” you patiently reminded him. He had come barreling into the bedroom one night nearly two months ago rattling on about this deal he saw about a romantic getaway to some ranch or other the week before Christmas.

Driving up to the ranch, the tires of the car crunched over freshly fallen snow and Alfredo was not that impressed driving through it. He had stepped out of the car to check in and get the keys to your cabin and when he came back to the vehicle he was muttering about how cold it was under his breath.  Now, though, he looked mildly irritated as the snowflakes gathered in his dark hair, giving a slight scowl at your reminder.

“It’s so pretty out here,” you said excitedly.

You exhaled and watched the condensation of your breath float in the air in front of you. Alfredo scoffed slightly and closed the trunk of the car heavily. You chuckled softly and followed behind him as he started to make his way to the door. His shoulders were slumped and he stomped through the snow with quite a bit of force.

“Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Jack Frost nipping at your nose,” You sang loudly into the air as you made it up to the door as Alfredo was unlocking it. “Yule-tide carols being sung by a choir And folks dressed up like Eskimos.”

Inside the cabin was warm and bright and Alfredo almost immediately relaxed. He set down the bags by one of the sofas and quickly started to pull off his coat. “I’m pretty sure it’s frostbite and not Jack Frost nipping at my nose,” he said with a slight grunt. You sighed softly as you pulled off your own outer layers to hang up on the coat rack by the door.

“I’m sorry this isn’t what you had in mind,” you said softly, turning back to face Alfredo.

He very quickly turned around to look at you and crossed the room in a few long strides. His arms circled your waist and pulled you close to him. “No, babe… I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m such an ass. This is supposed to be fun and sweet and romantic. I’ll stop being an ass,” he murmured into your hair.

You exhaled softly and lifted your arms up to wrap around his shoulders to hold him tightly against you. You turned your head and pressed a gentle kiss against his neck. “Tomorrow, we’ll go on a sleigh ride and get some massages,” he said lowly as he started to sway with you in his arms.

“That’s sounds nice,” you murmured against his skin.

Alfredo hummed lowly and nodded before softly singing, “It’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you.”

“You’re a dork,” you laughed.

[aplaceforrtprompts]

“I haven’t forgotten you yet” with dat soft boy Alfredo

You stared down at your melted ice cream, stirring it with a spoon. You sighed and stood up, grabbing the cup and tossing it in the trash before leaving. You knew Alfredo was busy with his new job and all but you had thought he’d make some time for you.

You had been so excited when your best friend, or so called best friend, finally moved to Austin. It didn’t help that as soon as he arrived all your feelings for him would come back.

You knew he’d be busy with work but not so much he would actually leave you hanging.

When he called a few hours later you hit ignore. You wanted him to know how it felt. The least he could have done was text you. He called again and you hit ignore again.

A little while later there was a knock on your door, “Go away, Alfredo!”

“Come on just let me explain,” he called through the door.

You sat there staring for a moment but it was the desperateness in his voice that finally won you over. You got up and unlocked the door, just peeking out to see your friend with the biggest pout on his face. You hated how much it was working.

“Why’d you forget me this time?” you questioned.

Alfredo’s face fell further, “Baby girl, I haven’t forgotten you yet.”

“Oh, yet. Great,” you turned your back and walked back into your apartment.

You tried slamming the door but Alfredo caught it. He came racing in behind you, grabbing your arm to face you, “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant I could never forget you. I’m sorry. I just get nervous around you and mix up my words. I got nervous about ice cream because I was going to use it to ask you out but I freaked and I’m sorry. I could have at least texted you and-”

“I’m sorry, what?” you cut him off thinking you misheard him.

He smiled a little, “Caught that did you?”

Your heart was pounding as he pulled you closer. He leaned in but paused letting you stop him. You didn’t and he kissed you.

As he pulled away you gave him a dazed look but then narrowed your eyes, “I’m still mad at you for ditching me.”

“Can I still kiss you?” Alfredo asked with an innocent look.

“I never said to stop,” you told him.

“Fair enough then,” he smiled, pulling you to him once again.

[silverbladexyz]

Congratulations on 100 followers! You deserve every Single one of them for how amazing your writing is!

I noticed you were doing matchups so I decided to participate for fun, feel free to do anyone else’s if mine doesn’t have enough info for you! Sorry for being all over the place with it😓

I’m a 5’4” 1/16th Russian, 1/8th Asian Caucasian female and I’m 18 years old. I’m generally pretty energetic, but not overbearing energetic and I only fall asleep when my eyelids tell me to (unless I have homework due for a class I’m falling behind in the next day) and I’m not one to leave my dorm unless I need to eat or go to class or meet my friends/family. I take responsibility if I know no one else is going to do it in a messy organized way. I’m easily taken advantage of because of my naivety and gullibility. I act like I know more about death, murder, and dark things like that when really, I’m too weak to actually hurt a fly. I love to write stories, read manga, and watch anime. I’m not good at arguing my points, but I can make people addicted to things I’m obsessed with. If I become interested in something, I become obsessed with it, so I have read the light novels, Beast AU, seen the entire series twice and Dead Apple. I don’t mind spoilers though. I love making new OCs for different shows (but I’m EXCESSIVELY SADISTIC about it) and I love to read Yandere!Reader, Suicidal!Reader, Depressed!Reader, and [other anime character]!Reader, Character x Readers to soothe my depressive tendencies. I have severe epilepsy that’s near incurable and my grades are mostly A’s and B’s except for a couple classes with D’s. I eat like one or two meals a day (sometimes none because of medication) and when I do, it’s like two pieces of pizza or a tiny bowl of alfredo pasta, so I’m really skinny and light. I have slight acne, but it’s not too noticeable. You asked for people we dislike, I’m apologizing in advance, but I’ll just give you the characters I do like, crush wise or think-they’re-cool-and-would-want-to-be-friends wise. (I’m a total simp for Chuuya or Dazai’s death glare, especially when a slight shadow covers it)

Characters: Dazai, Ranpo, Yosano, Kyoka, Kenji, Tanizaki, all Beast!ADA except the President and Kunikida, Kouyou, literally any Chuuya from any plot point, Akutagawa, Gin, Tachihara, Elise (don’t match me with her, she’s just really cool and funny but way too young), PM! Dazai (both Beast! AU and regular series), Mark, Fyodor (the dub accent tho❤️❤️❤️), Nikolai, Tecchou, Jouno, Teruko, Odasaku

I have a problem…😅😓😭

Heyyy sariel!!! Tysm, and no, it's not too over the place, and the info was quite sufficient 💗

The images do not belong to me. They belong to their original owners.

Calculating...

Your sibling figure is... KENJI MIYAZAWA!!!

-He's such a sunshine omg

-Kenji is always smiling and encouraging you. He always manages to brighten up your day, and he loves seeing you smile as well

-I feel like he wouldn’t really understand the dark things you like (he’s too innocent for that) but he will smile and say ‘That’s so cool!’

-Kenji is interested in reading your stories. He will always give you constructive feedback, and it actually gives you motivation to write. He’s always the first one to read your stories <3

-Kenji is lowkey worried for your health, because he has never met anybody who ate quite little food, or sometimes nothing at all. Definitely gets you some light but nutritious food from his own village, and trust me those foods work like magic

-He doesn’t mind chilling in your dorm with you. You could be studying, reading, doing whatever, and Kenji will either doze or read a book to keep you company. He makes little to no noise or distractions, and his presence actually helps you focus more on studying

-If you need help with moving something heavy, just ask Kenji! With his super strength, it’s easy for him to move almost anything, and he loves helping you. He would even like to give you piggyback rides if you asked

-Hugs and headpats!!! Kenji was probably a bit inexperienced when it came to platonic affection, but in time he’ll love it and he might even start doing it back to you. Sometimes, his headpats would end up ruffling your hair and making it look like a mess, but he would stop if you asked him to

-He will read and watch the mangas and animes that you recommend to him. Just please keep it suitable for him

-Kenji would like to take you to his village one day and to let you meet everybody back at his hometown. He knows that you would be welcomed, and he’s quite excited everytime you ask him about his village

-If anybody takes advantage of you, Kenji wouldn’t be afraid to teach them a lesson with his super strength. But everybody in Yokohama knows not to make Kenji angry anyways, so you’re safe ^-^

-If you’re having a bad day, Kenji will smile and say some of the sweetest things ever to you that just makes you smile too. He knows just how to cheer you up, and he’ll be happy to cheer you up forever <3

-He does ask Yosano on some tips for your health, or he sometimes sends back to his village for some medicinal herbs that always worked

-Overall, he is the BEST YOUNGER BROTHER EVER! Also he’ll never be annoying towards you, because he is too sweet to do that 💗

And your parent figure is... YOSANO AKIKO!!!

-Yosano is a chill, but kind of strict parent figure

-She worries about your health, and buys you medicine that helps you. She wishes that she could heal you with her ability, but unfortunately her ability could only heal physical wounds. She does make you food that helps you become stronger though

-Yosano also likes dark stuff herself, especially morbid stuff. So you two could literally have a chat about anything dark and not worry that the other person can’t take it. However, Yosano does remind you about the value of human life

-If you’re feeling depressed, Yosano will try her best to help you with it. She has a few ways to help your depression, and they work all the time. However, if you want to be left alone for a while, she understands and won’t push you

-Yosano is pretty strong. So if anybody hurts you, you bet that she’s going to bring her cleaver, beat them up and also teach them a lesson that they’ll never forget. She is pretty intimidating when she wants to be

-Brings you out shopping with her sometimes, but she doesn’t buy too much stuff since she doesn’t want you to carry anything that you can’t handle. She’ll also buy you whatever you want, as long as she approves of it

-If you ever get hurt, Yosano would give you extra special treatment. She reserves the best bed in the infirmary for you, and she’ll make sure that you aren’t in any sort of pain

-Anime nights!!! Basically you two would chill at your dorm or hers while watching any type of anime you liked while eating popcorn. Yosano likes spending time with you and she has pretty similar tastes in anime. I headcanon she likes Tokyo Ghoul and Assassination Classroom

-Also tries to be a good mother figure to you. If you engage in activities that are harmful to you, Yosano would be quite strict and bans them from you. But please understand that she wants the best for you

-Overall, a headstrong, cool mother figure that is a girlboss

And last but not least, your mentor is... DAZAI OSAMU!!!

-Dazai doesn’t really mind your knowledge and interest in dark stuff. Afterall, he was the demonic prodigy of the Mafia, and people all around him were accustomed with death and blood and whatnot. Doesn’t mean that he won’t be a drama queen when you do say something quite dark

-He does hate how you get taken advantage of though. Dazai knows how easily people could get manipulated and used, and he himself is familiar with the act. But the thought of somebody taking advantage of his student? Definitely gives you tips and hints on how to recognise signs of manipulation, and it actually helps

-Dazai has quite an interesting way of teaching you. He’ll probably suddenly show up at a random time to talk with you, then he’ll disappear afterwards leaving you having no idea what was going on. But slowly, the pieces fall into place and at the end of it, you’d have learned something new as well

-He’d still be his usual self around you; which means talking about su1c1de, women, and just being chaotic. Many times you have to save him from his su1c1de attempts, but it’s often because it was part of his plan for solving a case

-He is also a kind of chill mentor. Dazai won’t lecture you unless it was absolutely necessary. Even then, you still don’t want him to lecture you because he can be scary if he wants to

-Dazai uses any opportunity to turn stuff into a lesson. He’ll do it discreetly though, and it’s so discreet you wouldn’t even notice that it was by his intentions

-He is a bit concerned for your health. Afterall, he knows that having a fragile body could hinder many plans and jeopardize your safety even more. But he asks Kunikida to train you in some basic self-defence that your body could handle

-So Dazai teaches you how to be cunning. More specifically, he teaches you how to outwit the enemy, and how to gather more information than your opponent. His lessons are quite interesting, and more than once his tactics had proven quite helpful to you

-He would give you hard cases that he knows you could handle. Dazai is one to push you past your limits, but he will make backup plans if you somehow couldn’t handle it

-Dazai cares for you in his own Dazai way. Which means that you’ll always have his support; even if you couldn’t notice it, but it’s definitely there. He knows that you can handle yourself, but Dazai will still help you if he thinks you need it

-He would also teach you the tricks to winning an argument. Dazai himself is quite witty and quick-thinking, and he would love to see you be able to win an argument. But please don’t go around starting arguments because you can win them now, even if Dazai finds it amusing

-Dazai would probably open up to you slightly, but his mask is still there. Please tell him that you appreciate him for teaching you and how much you care for him. He isn’t used to any sort of affection and I guarantee you it’ll be a sight to see

-Overall, Dazai is a strange and interesting mentor who actually wants to see you succeed

@sariel626

[christinebloodwrittings]

Briefly Instant (Part twenty)

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

Summary: Life is complicated, always moving and working in ways we can't comprehend. Between the bubbles and the heartache, an unfortunate encounter left a half-broken heart and a strong connection which separated this soulmates for a long time. Two sides of the story, two hearts that longed for each other painfully. One brief instant was enough to know.

Warnings for this chapter: Angst, Use of a dead name, mentions of self inflicted injuries, mentions of attempted suicide, questionable mental health, depression, mentions of child abuse.

Note: D/N means Dead Name, like when you change your name given your change of gender, or legal change or whatever reason you may have to change your given name. Well the mention of D/N is mainly someone not accepting your choice and just sticking with the name you hate, with the pretext that "That's who you are" n shit.

Previous Chapter___Masterlist

TH Taglist: @lucky-foxface @lokisprettygirl22 @criticaltrinket @vbecker10 @huntress-artemiss @el-zef @apine7

Shit! What the fuck were you thinking? You were going to use your authority to get your mother out of the prison where Jasper locked her up for a day! All for what? for a man, your man. "The things I do for love" you murmured as soon as your mother appeared in the door dressed in orange and black, “Hello mother” she smiled at me as if she already knew you were going to break her out.

“I knew you would change your mind” she shifted her hips to the side, as if accentuating her know-it-all attitude, “This isn't about me, my boyfriend wants to talk to you, I'm here to 'take you to tea with us' as he calls it” she laughed It was a small, modest laugh, but you knew her, at least well enough to know she'd laugh.

"Is he a Brit or something?" she said it like it was something bad, that made you angry “He is, and look, I have the legal right to use my taser on you” you slightly lifted your coat to show the taser, but that didn't even scare her.

"HA! We both know you wouldn't be able to do it" maybe not, for mere manners and for the minimum respect you have for being your mother, but you didn't lack the desire to do it.

"Yes I am, but I won't, because-" you had to shut up because he started talking over you, "she knew, but how could you, if you can't even aim properly?" anger began to bubble fiercely inside you, but for Tom you did it, then you could kick her out of her house.

"Because my sister is invited too, and I would really hate if I had to electrify you for your bad attitude" she snorted and clicked her tongue, "I never said I wouldn't behave, this is the first boyfriend of yours I'm going to meet in a long time, you were prettier back then, of course" she already started criticizing you, like always.

"Stop".

“By the way, why are you wearing a shirt covered in lint? Is that how you present yourself to others? like a disdainful and disheveled girl who doesn't know how to dress well? And that hair, ugh, remember I said your hair is greasy, honey, you can't just wash your head with soap."

"I do not-!"

"You can't lie to me, I'm your mother".

“If you continue I will leave you in the middle of the road” you threatened her, and as soon as you got her inside the car you put on music so you didn’t had to hear it.

The ride was horrible, but at least it was only half an hour of her incessant chattering, mostly about how she found the criminal she worked with quite attractive, it made you sick.

"My love, we're here" you sounded tired, and how could you not be? You were in a bad mood all morning and reminded her that she will regret being near your mother, and that you, above all, would be miserable if she were near you. That nothing good happens with her near her. He, in his tender nature, convinced you by telling you that he would be yours all week and that day he would make pasta with alfredo sauce so that you would at least eat something that would make you feel better.

He really loves you.

“Hello, I’m Tom Hiddleston, it’s so nice to meet you ma’am” he grabbed your mother’s hand and placed a kiss to her knuckles, making her giggle and flush, “Oh my, you really are a gentleman, huh?” she pulled him down gently and squeezed his cheeks a bit, “Handsome as well” she hummed in delight as she moved past him towards the living room.

“She seems nice” he chuckled as he leaned down to kiss your temple, but you moved your head so he was kissing your lips instead, “For now, is my sister here?” he nodded, “She needed the bathroom, she’ll be here in a sec” he took your hand and placed a little kiss to your palm, just like in ‘Only Lovers Left Alive’, just because he knew you liked him in that movie.

“What a nice home you have here Tom, it’s really cozy, just like D/n here said on the way here” it was just like a huge boot just kicked you in your stomach, the acid crawled up inside your throat but you were able to swallow it back.

“Uhm, pardon me but who’s D/n?” that name felt disgusting leaving his lips, soon you were going to have him swear never to say it again. “My, my, you’re my daughter’s boyfriend and you don’t even know her name?” Tom glanced at your calmed face, yet your eyes were way more honest, the phrase “if looks could kill” was seemed an understatement.

“It’s Y/n, mother, it has been since I’m nineteen and you know it” you changed your name at such young age, what reason you could have to do such a thing? “Oh silly me” your mother giggled, pretending to not know what she was doing, like Tom was stupid enough to not notice.

“Y/N!!” It was like a dream, like opening a birthday present, your sister was in front of you after so many years of not seeing her in person. You didn't hold back and hugged her tight against you, remembering the countless pranks and adventures you had together.

“Violet! Oh I missed you so much! You’re so big and beautiful!! You must catch all the eyes” you winked playfully, how you missed her laugh, “You too!! Omg, your boyfriend is a real hottie” she spoke not too loud but it’s not like Tom didn’t hear her, “I know” you laughed making him blush while setting the kettle.

“I can’t believe you can go to bed with Loki, I’m so jealous” Violet hit your shoulder stealing a few glances towards Tom’s backside, “He’s the best, so loving and caring” she had heart eyes already, but then your mother spoke, “What are you talking about?” she sounded so high handed without even trying, “Hello mommy, we were just talking about how lovely is to see each other again”.

It hurt your soul to recognize your sister's attitude, apparently the double-faced lady has not yet shown her true facet, why?

Tea turned into dinner, Tom's conversation with your mother couldn't be more pedantic, on your mother's part obviously. Your boyfriend was just being nice while he was trying to unmask the witch, to no avail, since your mother has been doing this to hide her true personality for quite some time now.

“Do you want more noodles, love?” Tom asked you, knowing that you loved scraping the pot looking for the sauce that remained in the bottom, you nodded and he plated them for you, not a big ration because you don’t eat that much after a proper meal, but it had all the sauce.

You were about to delight in it, but just as always, your mother stopped you by going with “Are you sure you should eat that honey?”, which made you look up to her in pure raw anger, “I want to” you used a stern tone to subtly inquire her to fuck off.

“But you shouldn’t, you know how easy it is for you to gain weight” you had had it, “Tom could you bring some more ice from the back freezer? I want to witness my sister’s first margarita” it was a code for him to leave the room because you were going to stop your mother from further bitching, you haven’t had discussed that with him before, but he read the room good enough to know what you intended with it.

“Can you stop the attitude?” you started as soon as he was out of the room.

“I'm not doing anything” she tried, that’s the funny thing, “Mom, I know you, let it all out before he comes back” she shifted on her seat, it was as if she let down the veil of fake kindness and all the shit just showed up on display afterwards.

“So this is what you're doing after leaving the force? Having sex with a man like him? How lovely it is that you’re here too Violet. D/n, don’t you think you have more important things to do? You should do more for your sister, you won't even answer her texts, or call or even come back home, you even renegade from your name, but then again, those were all your choices” oh he went with that.

“I have a life, you know?”

“And with us you didn't?”

“Mom I can't even... you are such a hypocrite, of course I didn't! All those years you've hurt me and treated my sister with the love I also deserved, but look at this irony. I have a business, a life. Are you seriously so envious that you have to shit on it every time we talk? Like, every fucking time mom, we always end up with you judging my decisions” once again your sister was witness of your fights, you didn’t wanted this, but that’s how she was going to have to learn.

“You left us, you left your sister behind, you were and still are selfish! I didn't raised you like this!” that made you laugh, “No, I certainly didn't”, you glanced at your sister. “Watch your tone, what are you talking about?” She tried to make you respect her, but then Tom’s words from that morning echoed in your head, ‘This is your house too my love, remember that’ so you chinned up and didn’t softened your tone one bit.

“I didn't raised my sister to behave like a useless child, for fucks sake she's 31 YEARS OLD! She has to grow up already, she's lazy, egoistical, individualist, and only calls herself an adult when it's convenient. She's not made of glass, mom, you have to be tough and strict with her like you were with me, why don’t you beat her up like me? Oh, because you already lost a daughter”.

Her furious eyes, you used to be terrified of her, somehow you were stronger, confident…maybe it was the taser in your pocket.

“Also, you love to call yourself the best mom, I appreciate you working yourself out to feed us when we were young, but you can't keep rubbing that on our faces anymore because, and this is your favorite phrase when I was in school, it was your obligation!” you continued.

“I didn't HAD to feed you two, I did it because I love you” she could’ve gone to jail earlier if she had done that though. “Mom, if you didn't wanted to have children you should've closed your legs when you could” she gasped, even she knocked the chair down when she stood up, “You're being unfair, I am your mother!”.

“You have to earn that title”.

“I haven't?”.

“NO! You abandoned us, I left you because you poisoned me! My insecurities grew because of you, I can't love normally because you made me feel fat and unwanted! I flinch each time someone raises their hand or yells at me because of your abuses! And you handed me a job that wasn't mine, you were the one that was supposed to shape my sister into a woman, and you didn't do even the minimum” she slapped you, you sister flinched at the sound but didn’t even moved.

“I'm tired of holding this family together, I'm tired of being always the one to blame, I have no fault in this because I didn't asked to be born mother! This is your fault only!” you looked at her dead in the eye, “I changed; I am better for you now!” she tried again.

“That's not true, you're still the same, you just hide it better. And you did it for her, because you didn't wanted my sister to leave you as well. You have a problem with abandonment and so do I, it was grandma's fault with you and it's yours with me!” she shut up at the mention of her mother, generational issued were the main reason why your family was so broken.

“I love you, both of you, and this is so hard for me to do, but if you two don't get your shit together I don't want either of you to be part of my life” Violet started sobbing, “I am selfish because I deserve to be, I deserve to be happy and take care of my own wounds... I deserve a better mother”, your sister tried to make your mother sit down again, failed.

"And if you don't like Tom, fuck you, he is the best thing that has happened to me in a long time, I love him" she laughed.

“He’s going to leave you as soon as he knows how much blood you have on your hands, of your habits” she signaled her wrists, “Or did you forgot who mended your wounds after you tried to kill yourself?” only to open them again and again.

“Joke’s on you, he already knows” he didn’t, he wasn’t supposed to know, and he would never!

“Why did he called us here? To fight?” you shook your head, “He wanted to know me better, to know the person who raised me, and correction I invited my sister, the one who actually deserves to have a place in my life”.

“What do you want from me?”.

“Admit it, admit that you hurt me, that all my issues are because of your beatings, your insults, your bad parenting. Admit that you are a bad mother!” she mocked you again, “All I did brought you here, if you want to look at it that way, it’s your problem”.

“Just admit it, you are already going back to jail, what else you have to lose?” this time your sister stood up angrily, “She’s going to jail?” it was your turn to teach her one last thing, “Yes Violet, you’re gonna start working because mommy won’t be able to pay your bills anymore” 31 years old and she still lived in your mother’s house, unbelievable.

“Why would you do this to us?!” she yelled, “Sis, your mother was in cahoots with illegal human trafficking, are you kidding me?” your mother didn’t even tried to deny it, “So what?” was your sister’s response to that. “SO WHAT?!”.

“I had a life, a plan, now because of this I won’t be able to make it” she had to be fucking kidding right? “Bad luck sis, you’re gonna have to work your ass off to get it now, as you should” she threw her water at you, “I hate you” and then she took her purse and took off, you heard her clacking shoes get lost at the front door.

“I told you you'd lose her” she had a fucking smile plastered on her face, one that you wish you were strong enough to slap off.

“So, whose going to bring me back to my cell?” you sent off a message on your phone, “They’re already here, waiting for you outside”, Oscar came in and took her away, “Give my goodbyes to Tom, D/n, he clearly doesn’t deserve a wreck like you” Oscar gave her a hit to her knees to make her shut up, “Thank you agent” he smiled at you, “Whenever you want dear”.

She was gone, she was finally gone.. both of them, all over again. Just like the day you ran away.

“My love I’m so sorry, I left you alone with them” he came back, slowly appearing from up the stairs. “You were listening” your voice was cold and low, it felt like a knife pressing against his throat, “I needed to know the side of her that you know” he made sense, at least enough for you to understand his motives, “I know” now he was aware of the person you grew up with, all your difficulties to open up and trust came with your mother abuses, you were broken deep.

“We still have cake, want to cuddle on the sofa while eating it?” he tried to bright up your mood, but your mother’s words regarding your weight took away your love for food at the moment, “I’m not hungry”.

He put you through a much horrible situation than he anticipated, he should’ve just trusted your judgement. “Hey, look at me Y/n” he cupped your cheek and turned you around so you could look at him, “I love you too” those four words did the difference, you realized that you had said that you loved him for the first time since you know him, a huge furious red blush caught up to your cheeks while he chuckled, seeing how cute you looked flustered.

"I just realized I didn't apologize properly for all the secrets and disappearing, I doubt they'll call me back now that I'm retired, but if it does happen, rest assured you'll be the first to know, and we'll talk it over and I will be there for whatever you need, I will always come back to you Tom" he leaned down to trap your lips into a kiss, it wasn’t sexually hungry, it was soft and full of adoration.

"Come on, I'm going to change your bandage, how about a bath with one of those fizzy bombs you like so much first?" your eyes lit up as you watched him lowering himself down to take you up in his arms. "Could it be the lemon one?" his heart fluttered at the sound of your small voice, “Yes my love, and I can let you wash my hair if you want” you loved the purring sounds he made every time you massaged his scalp, he even leaned into your touch, it was very cute!

“Thank you Tom”.

Oh right, you needed to tell him, the drug thing, the pictures, his ex Willow being alive. Oh shit.

See you in Act 3...

[callmegkiddo]

Guess who decided to stop being a lazy ass??? Yup that's right! Ever since I noticed anons and other people showing @fandomclutterr imagines/one-shots about their oc's, and other characters (moatly the fnf vs CJ mod) it gave me the motivation to write again! :D

Expect to see:

1. Karl Heisenberg x powerful! S/o

2. Brahms Heelshire x Killer! Caretaker! reader

3. (FNF vs) Cyrix x Creator! reader

4. Alfredo Sawyer x Innocent! Accepting! reader

Yes I am making things for some very underated bois (except Brahms and Heinsberg)

Can't wait to see the results of them!

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Jack’s Friends

Pairing: Chris Motionless x Mom!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Y/N has a daughter from a previous relationship that is her world and she’s always kept her away from her boyfriends in the past but when things start getting serious with Chris, she decides to introduce the two of them. 

A/N: GUYS I SAW MIW IN CONCERT A FEW DAYS AGO AND THERE ARE SO MANY THOUGHTS (most of them not very PG) RUNNING THROUGH MY MIND ABOUT THESE INHUMANLY ATTRACTIVE MEN SO LOOK OUT CAUSE THERE’S SOME MORE MIW STUFF COMING SOON

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This was a big day. Today was the day that you were going to introduce Chris to your daughter for the first time. You’d been very candid with him about the fact that you had a kid from the beginning of your relationship, knowing that if that wasn’t something he could handle, he needed to leave then and there. It had happened before with other men in the past (including her father). It was a tale as old as time: boy meets girl, girl falls in love with boy and thinks he loves her back, girl finds out she’s pregnant, boy runs away with his drug dealer that he’d been having an affair with for months. Classic. 

Chris was surprisingly okay with the fact that you had a child though. You were terrified to tell him because it had been a long time since you felt about anyone the way you did about Chris and you didn’t want to lose him. With his career and everything, he didn’t exactly strike you as the ready to be a father type (not that that’s exactly what you expected of him but you were thinking long term and, if you stayed together long term, the fact of the matter was that he would be a father figure). 

This was the first time that you’d ever let her meet a boyfriend of yours. She wasn’t even born yet when her father walked out but the last thing you wanted to subject her to was an onslaught of men that may or may not stick around. She didn’t deserve that. 

Chris knew how important this was to you as well. He knew how badly that asshole had hurt you in the past and, quite frankly, he couldn’t figure out how anyone could leave you like that. 

Chris had surprised himself when he’d told you that he was alright with you having a daughter. Kids had never really been something that he ever saw as apart of his plan but after dating you for several months, he knew that you were special, that you were different. After thinking it over for a day or two, he’d decided that he would be willing to still go on with your relationship, even with a child involved. 

That didn’t stop him from being absolutely terrified when he walked up to your front door though. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. Calm down, she’s literally three. 

But that’s just it. This wasn’t just any three year old. This was your three year old. The three year old of the woman that he was falling harder for than he ever expected to. 

Finally, he rapped his knuckles on the door. He waited, hands in his pockets for you to answer the door but instead of the door opening, he heard you yell from inside, “Wait! Stop! Let Mommy open the door!” Something fell with a thud and you let out a disgruntled sigh. There was hysterical baby laughter and Chris had a feeling it was you that fell. The handle to the door jiggled with little skill and, again, your voice called after the infant, “I said stop! You can’t open the door when you don’t know who it is!” 

Chris tried to stifle his laughter when the door swung open to reveal you with your hair messy from falling inside trying to beat your kid to the front door. “Hi!” You greeted with a wide smile. 

“You okay?” He asked with a chuckle, reaching forward to fix a stray hair that had flipped over your part. 

You rolled your eyes, hands on your hips, “I’m fine. I just need somebody to listen better. She’s started trying to answer the door and my phone when it rings.” You shot a glare at your daughter who had an innocent smile on her face. “Oh, speaking of which,” You walked into your living room and motioned for Chris to follow. You walked over and picked up your small daughter, “This is Y/D/N. Y/D/N, this is Mommy’s friend Chris.” 

“Hi!” Chris greeted with a smile. 

Your daughter flinched away with a shy smile, burying her face into your chest. She was looking at Chris and all of his tattoos, as well as his drawn on eyebrows. You could tell she was trying to figure out who this strange dude in her home was. 

“Sorry, she’s always like this with new people.” You set her down and let her go run off to play with some of her toys. “Dinner’s almost ready if you’re hungry.” 

Chris’s hands returned to his pockets as he nodded awkwardly, “Oh, um sure. I wasn’t expecting for you to make dinner.” 

“Well, I just figured that it was around that time of night and I had to feed Y/D/N anyways. Does pasta sound okay? I made fettuccine alfredo. There’s salad and stuff too.” 

“Yeah, that sounds great. Thank you.” He smiled. You craned your neck back to make sure that Y/D/N was out of the room and when you knew that she was, you reached forward and gripped Chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling his lips to yours in a quick peck. 

“Thank you for coming over tonight. You know, I swear she really is like this with almost everyone. It’s not just you.” You reassured with a laugh. 

He shrugged, “She’s freaking adorable. She must get it from her mom.”

You blushed a deep red. His compliments never ceased to make you feel giddy, even after these last five months. 

The night went on and you found yourselves sitting in the living room on the couch. You leaned back against Chris’s body, his long arms wrapped around your shoulders. Your daughter laid in your lap as you all watched the Nightmare Before Christmas, one of your daughter’s favorite movies and thankfully, one of yours and Chris’s too.

You gently played with her hair while rubbing Chris’s thigh in absentminded circles with the other. 

Just as Jack Skellington made it to Christmas Land, your daughter twisted in your lap and leaned back on her knees, “Momma, popcorn please?” She widened her eyes and blinked dramatically in an attempt to mimic the begging puppy dog eyes she’d seen in a cartoon once. 

“You know what? Popcorn does sound pretty good. I’ll go make some real quick.” You announced, standing up from your place on the couch. 

“Do you want me to pause the movie?” Chris asked, sitting up straighter until you put your hand up. 

“Oh no! I’ve seen it dozens of times. You guys enjoy. I’ll be right back.” You disappeared into the kitchen and put a package of popcorn in the microwave. While it popped, you thought back to Chris who’s obvious nervousness about meeting Y/D/N had faded away so quickly. They seemed so comfortable with each other now. Some part of your brain that housed your fantasies could almost say you felt like a family with an actual father in the picture. 

The beeping of the microwave drew back your attention to the popcorn and you poured that bag into a bowl, adding another bag just for good measure (you could never really have too much popcorn, right?). 

You went to make your way back to the living room when you stopped in your tracks, admiring the scene taking place from afar. Your daughter was sitting on Chris’s lap as if they’d known each other forever, pointing at the colorful marks all over his skin. “What’s this?” She asked, grabbing his hands and trying to read the letters on his knuckles, “L-O-S-...” She struggled to find the name for the next letter. 

“T,” Chris helped, “See,it keeps going onto my other hand too. It says Lost Boys.” 

Your daughter looked confused, “Lost Boys? Why are they lost?” 

Chris laughed an adorable laugh that dang near could have gotten you pregnant again just from hearing it, “It’s a movie actually. It’s all about vampires.” He feigned a spooky voice and reached forward to tickle her. 

A high pitched laughter filled the room, “Like the vampires in Halloween Town!” She exclaimed excitedly. 

“Yeah, I guess! I also have some ghosts over here and jack-o-lanterns.” He pointed to other parts on his arms and neck. 

Your daughter looked at him with adoration, “Wow, you have all of Jack’s friends!” Then she gasped, “Are you one of Jack’s friends!?”  

A look flashed in Chris’s eyes that was soft and happy. It’s not that he was usually a dark angry person all the time anyways but seeing him your daughter was different. You couldn’t believe how well they were getting along. Not that you were worried about Chris but after everything with her biological father, you couldn’t say that you weren’t exactly scared of introducing men to her. “Y’know, I wish I was one of Jack’s friends! Living in Halloween Town would be so cool. It would be Halloween all the time!” 

“We could have Halloween candy all the time!” 

That was your que to step in before he got her too much more riled up, “Okay, okay, scoot over! Mommy wants her friend back!” You laughed, setting the popcorn on the table and reaching down to readjust you and your daughter. 

Before you could grab her though, she clung to Chris’s neck, “No! He’s my friend now!” 

Chris’s eyes got wide at the sudden embrace but he grabbed her in a hug nonetheless, “Yeah, sorry Mommy, we’re friends now.” He mimicked, holding onto her tightly, big smiles on both of their faces. 

You feigned offense, “Y’know what?” Without warning, you reached down and scooped her up, spinning her around to sit on your lap while you resumed your position of leaning against Chris’s chest, “Haha, got you!” You held her tightly with one hand while you grabbed the popcorn with the other to distract her with. 

“Ladies, there’s enough of me to go around!” Chris joked, his arm snaking back over your shoulders. Giving him an exasperated look, you reached into the popcorn bowl and threw a few pieces at your boyfriend. 

Soon the three of you were settled into each other’s arms again and you were all happily watching Lock, Shock, and Barrel kidnap Santa. Beneath you, you felt Chris shift and hand rubbed small circles on your shoulder. Y/D/N was asleep on your lap and for once you felt like maybe you could let a man back into your life like this.

For the first time in forever, things felt right. Chris looked comfortable around you. The real you with toys scattered around your house and hair a mess from chasing your three year old. He seemed comfortable around your daughter, the light of your life and the one thing that mattered most to you. 

Looking up at him, his strong, handsome face outlined with tattoos and dyed black hair, you thought that maybe you might even be able to say that you loved him. You knew you felt it but it was hard to admit, hard to tell him and let him in like that. But now that he met Y/D/N and things went well, maybe, just maybe, things would work out this time.

[peachyteabuck]

eating a heart in a marketplace

summary: "[C]ommunion doesn’t need to be holy. Or even decent." -  THOMAS C. FOSTER 

After one of Tony’s men injures one of yours, he must present a peace offering in order to keep his black market distributor business afloat. 

Good news: you accept the gift. 

Bad news: the gift is Thor.

pairing: Thor Odinson x Reader

words: 5,863

trigger warnings: dubcon ig, humiliation, heavy d/s dynamics, mentions of canon-level violence, use of gags, collars, basically kidnapping, dehumanization (sexual and nonsexual)

notes/other: this fic is entirely self-indulgent and i am anticipating sequels bc i .... love it.  enjoy!

sk box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

The obnoxiously long, dark oak table lays mostly bare, the only places set are the ones at each end of the exquisitely made piece of furniture.

The pink, sheer robe you’re wearing does nothing to hide the matching baby pink lace lingerie, just as the equally feminine heels donned with a strip of pink puff across the base of the toes would do nothing to protect your perfectly manicured feet from the harm of the eerie storm raging outside. Still, the garments and accessories are not meant to be something that cover you up, keep you warm, help you run from danger; they’re tools, tools you’ll hopefully use to get your way as the final meal of the evening approaches.

The entire event is set up just the way you want, with your makeup setting just as expected; the pig roasted to perfection, the pasta firm to the touch, the carrots and broccoli steamed until palatable, the champagne chilled. Most important, though, was the arrival of your guest. At exactly 6:05, your head butler comes in to notify you of the car pulling in front of your expansive home. With the wave of your hand she’s instructed to let the man come in, allow your rival to step into the palace you’d constructed for yourself when you’d risen to the top of your organization.

Well, maybe “rival” is the wrong word. “Rival” implies an active dislike or struggle, when in reality you two operate in separate spheres of influence.

“Companion,” though, seems too friendly.

As the distinct sounds of footsteps filter through the grand hall and into your study, the man you’ve decided to call “fellow leader” steps into sight. His fine pressed suit, dry as the Sahara desert, smiles as you come into his view.

“Ah, my favorite mob woman.” His eyes seems more sinister than you expected. You attribute it more to the dark tones of the evening rather than actual malice.

“Stark,” you say with a curt nod. You go up to exchange a kiss on each cheek, heart racing with the anticipation of what’s to come, excitement increasing with each step. “Come, we have a wonderful meal prepared for you.”

Anthony doesn’t protest, simply accepts a glass of Scotch a maid hands to him and follows you into the dining room. He chuckles a bit at the display you’ve put on, but doesn’t say anything outright. You two have enough respect for the other not deny their counterpart the joy of a dramatic display. He simply sits, the pig placed in the middle of the table large enough to be an obvious sign of wealth but not too big as to deny the two of you eye contact.

Small talk is exchanged as the meal is served, biscuits placed, and pork cut into thick slabs. Vegetables placed delicately on plates and napkins placed on laps. You ask how Pepper is doing, he asks if the dress you had handmade from some extravagant designer turned out how you wanted. Half your plates are clear before either of you truly start to converse.

You’re the first to break the silence as Anthony begins on his mashed potatoes. “I appreciate your understanding of the deal. I’m not a fan of bloodshed, and the demonstration at the club that night are something I wish to forgive and forget as soon as possible.”

Anthony nods, speaking around a bite of the creamy starch. “I agree. Odinson’s actions were inappropriate, wildly and unpredictably so. In truth, I’ve thought he was a liability since he joined, but I never thought he’d lash out like that.”

As you slice through a particularly thick cut of meat, your fork slips and scraps against the china. Both of your winkles your noses at the grating sound.

“Yes,” You pause to chew. “cutting off Barnes’ arm during a bar fight does seem a little…” The bite of biscuit you had gotten was just perfect, the equal amount of butter and brown sugary, apple flavor from the pork together. God, you really do love a good meal. “Rash.”

Your guest hums in agreement. He then clears his throat, preparing to talk. “To symbolize my apologies, I have brought you the gift we spoke of earlier,” he pauses, raising his left hand just above his elbow and bending his first two fingers forward. You sit up, intrigued.

As the large French doors behind him open, from the dark depths of your hallway comes the man who scarred your oldest friend for life, cost you hundreds of thousands of dollars in medical bills, and has put your best hitman out of commission. He’s tall, fills the doorway like a key in a lock. His scruff thick and dark, bags under his eyes from lack of sleep.

Something deep in you stirs, and squeezing your thighs together does nothing to stop it.

Thor Odinson is clad in a suit, as most of Stark’s enforcers are. Though, the handcuffs keeping his hands behind his back are new.

“Interesting addition,” you note, staring at his straining arms in the expensive fabric.

Anthony doesn’t give any indication that he hears, let alone cares, about your sarcastic comment. “I’m assuming this” he gestures to the man. “Will put me back in good spirits with you and the rest of your crew?”

Odinson walks to your side, head hung in shame and hair tied in a tight bun as his former employer speaks. He knows what he’s in for now, has been told in so many words he is now something less of a person – and it’s obvious this has put him to shame.

You consider it – think about letting all that happened go with a simple olive branch. Before you can do that, though, you must make sure that the merchandise lives up to the promises on the box.

“Down,” you command. Immediately, he drops to his knees. You smirk, dragging your baby pink nails down his stubbled jaw.

“Oh, yes. This will do just fine, Stark. Just…fine.” The last two words are long, almost forgetting to finish them as your mind travels to all the things you could do with him.

Anthony smirks. “Perfect. I’m assuming business with resume as usual?”

Your fingers stroke at the sides of Thor’s face and trace around the shell of his ear. “Of course. I’ll call the appropriate people later. Everything should be up and running by midnight.”

Suddenly Anthony tenses, his fingers moving to fidget with his tie. “If I may-”

“You may,” you tell him, not meeting his eyes.

Anthony audibly gulps, fidgeting in his seat and with his tie. “That’s quite late, that’s hundreds of millions of dollars that we’ll miss out on if we-”

You hold up your hand flat while your gaze remains locked on your new toy. “That’s the earliest I can assure you. Whether or not it happens before that is,” you stop to try and feed Thor a small bite of carrot from your hand. He hesitates but accepts after a few moments, plucking the orange vegetable with beautiful teeth and a gentle bite. He doesn’t make eye contact like you originally wanted, but this is a good start.  “Not guaranteed.”

Anthony knows that you’re stubborn, much too stubborn to be moved away from your current stance. He’s done all that he can do to sway you, and now whatever income he hopes to make between now and the end of the day depends on Thor.

In short, Anthony Stark Junior (and his bank account) are royally, utterly fucked.

As he leaves your home he can hear you call to your head servant to tell Customs and Border Patrol to let his packages in (an assured start to him not losing a fortune), but he still wrings his hands as he slides into the backseat of his solid black Escalade. As the partition opens to reveal the man at the wheel, the thought of angry text messages from smugglers trying to get their goods into the States flash in front of Stark’s bloodshot eyes.

His driver, Happy, notices the fellow man’s anxiety as he looks at his boss through the rearview mirror.

“You think Odinson is gonna be okay, boss?” He asks, sort-of worried but mostly focused on filling the deafening silence in the expensive car. Money can buy a lot of things, but it can’t fill the awkward spaces in conversation that always come post-transaction.

Tony just laughs, typing something into his watch. “Of course not. That woman is going to chew him up and spit him out by the end of the fiscal year.”

Happy chews at his bottom lip. That’s two weeks from now. “You really think it’s gonna be that quick?”

“Probably,” Tony shrugs. “She’s never been known for mercy.”

The other man nods, quiet as he makes his way to the Stark residence. The quiet, cold night air strikes the mobster as he steps out of the car; the sharp grass smells fills his sense and bloodstream, calming him as he steps into his home. Pepper’s at the counter, stirring something in a pot. She doesn’t turn around when she hears his footsteps, but knows he’s somber nonetheless.

“Hard day at the office?” She asks, giving him a small taste of the homemade alfredo sauce.

Tony snorts, moving to lick at the wooden spoon. “Oh yeah,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around her waist. She’s in one of his t-shirts and sleep shorts, the soft material comforting him. “You could say that.”

You only make good decisions when you’re in a good mood, and right now said mood depends on Thor Odinson - a man so insecure he once got himself tortured just because his captors told him he couldn’t take it. The man is a stubborn, uncontrollable mess with an anger issue to rival that of Lyssa, or a lighting on a field of dried grass.

He was feared within the Nest and by the lower Excidium members, but he didn’t make palms sweat and hands shake and hearts beat faster quite like you do.

No one fucks with you because you’ve very appropriately placed yourself on a pedestal based on madness, control, and desire for power. Thor’s just feared because he’s a dumbass with a short fuse. It’s the difference between a forest fire and a crazy, drunken uncle holding a lighter; one you can try and prevent, coax it into submission and run away if necessary. The other? More unstable than Francium.

(At least you know that thing’s only going to last twenty-two minutes, though. At least it’s predictable in its instability.)

Back inside, you’re more than ecstatic to have a new plaything. You were fully prepared to let the kid’s behavior slide, especially since the Nest brings in a hefty amount of revenue. But if Tony wants to give up a weak link, you’ll gratefully treasure the broken piece of steel you picked up from the gravel.

Thor stays like that, on his knees and eating out of your hand, for so long his legs fall asleep. You spend the rest of the night chatting at nobody, talk to him like he’s an old, deaf cat who just remains in your favor because he’s soft to pet and is cute. You sign some deals, check the language of some proposed treaties, write your to-do list for the next day all at the dinner table. Thor only dares to look at you when you’re too busy conversing with maids or chastising someone who works under you or any time your head is turned enough that he can make out the scar that runs from behind your left ear to the back of your neck.  

Your form, the way you speak, he’s obsessed with his chance finally take it all in.

He hasn’t seen you in person before, just heard rumors and conspiracy theories and whatever else people spend their time making up about you. Thor always passed it off as fiction, simply inflating the higher-ups to pass the time. Everything about you, though, seems exceptionally true. Maybe even underestimations. It’s true you walk around your house in matching lingerie sets, possibly a robe if it’s breezy. The East Coast heat can be unexpectedly warm, but as the sun sets on the July day he can see goosebumps rise across your soft skin and the shivers that sometimes shake your spine. Your house fits all the descriptions he’s heard, too. The decor seems almost welcoming, faded oranges and pastel pinks and dull whites and baby blues and mustard yellows. Plush, velvet furniture the same deep magenta, mirrors trimmed in what Thor can assume is real gold.

It’s like a scene from Mean Chicks or whatever those 2000s teen movies are. If one of those movies took place in the home of an incredibly powerful mobster, it’d look like this.

“What do you think, pet?”

Oh shit. Thor was supposed to be listening, wasn’t he? When he looks up, Bucky Barnes (the man who called him a pussy and “Stark’s whore,” prompting him to grab one of the decorative - but still fully functional - swords from the wall of the bar they were in and just...slice away at his tormentor), Steve Rogers (who looks like the human version of a sugar cookie while specializing in torture) , and Sam Wilson (a sarcastic little shit who knows exactly how to get anything past the feds) are all staring down at him. Barnes’ left arm (stub? It’s mostly just stub now) is still bandaged, but he’s at least walking now. Thor was told he might die from blood loss, but no. Thor Odinson would never be that lucky.

“They never listen, do they?” You sigh, rolling your eyes as you shift to face them. None of the men sit, knowing they won’t be there long. Plus, they get a much better angle of Thor’s tortuous position while standing.

“You don’t think that deserves punishment?” Steve asks, a smile curling at the sides of his mouth that speaks volumes.

You shrug, not looking at him. “Later. Now I want you to donate fifty thousand to the Vermont special elections. I need that entry point into Canada or else there’s no way we can get out shipments into that garbage country in a timely manner. Also,” you turn to Sam, whose eyes are caught staring between Thor’s left upper ribs. “Call CBP. Stark held up his end of the deal, I have to hold up mine.”

All three of them huff, both at the large sum of cash you’re about to give to a twenty-something know-nothing frat guy who knows nothing about politics but everything about being open to bribes and about them not being able to watch the man they hate become the most embarrassed version of himself in front of the man he tried to kill and his two best friends.

Whatever. The trio’s time for revenge will come, you promised them that - promised Bucky when he was in the ICU that you would find the man that did this and would make them pay.

Bucky has never known you to break a promise.

When the three leave you and Thor, you raise your left arm high flick your wrist towards the large doors. Understanding the cue, your maids wordlessly close them to seclude you from whatever responsibilities you were intending on dealing with tonight. Whatever it is, was, can wait until tomorrow, can wait until you’ve begun Thor’s assimilation into your home.

There’s a moment of quiet, of stillness in the house before Thor hears the sounds of several pairs of footsteps – maybe four, he counts – that enter the large dining room with haste. He’s quickly escorted down a long hallway and up a winding set of stairs. Thor can’t see much as he’s rushed away, and the little he can make out is a baby blue wallpaper with gold patterns etched into it, and fine paintings that appear sporadically on the walls. Some are black and white with abstract patterns, others depictions of angels, a few featuring intricate designs that resemble the sky and sea.

It feels like a forever before Thor is slammed down onto the floor of your bedroom, his knees hitting the wood with a painful smack. Despite the earsplitting sound, he doesn’t wince, doesn’t even flinch as his hair is pulled back by one of the maids so he’s forced to look at you. As you gaze upon him he bares his teeth; you can see fire behind his eyes. What a cutie, you muse to yourself.

“Wrists,” you instruct. Another maid moves behind him with dusty pink rope, securing his wrists together behind his back. “Legs,” you tell them next. Thor is easily flipped onto his back, arched at an uncomfortable angle because of his arms. Just as quickly as before, his legs are tied so that his calves and the backs of his thighs meet. When he’s flipped back up, all he can see is you smiling devilishly. “I’ll do the rest myself ladies. Go ahead and take the night off, I want him all to myself.”

“Yes ma’am” they respond in unison, Thor unable to see their hurried steps but understanding that when he hears the door closing behind them, he’s completely and utterly alone.

For a moment you two just stare at each in silence, his nostrils flaring and chest rising from anger and adrenaline. He heaves as you calmly gaze upon him, pissing off your captive even more. All Thor can do is react while you stand there, stationary and speechless.

Within a few moments, he’s lashing out to break the painful quiet. “This fucking sucks,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “That Barnes fucking deserved that shit, you know? He’s a whiny bitch that gets into shit he doesn’t belong in. I bet he’s fucking compensating for something, ya know? He’s not even a big enough man to come at me himself, needs his master to do his bidding ‘n shit. Why the fuck am I ever here anyway, do you go through boytoys so fucking often you just steal them so that you don’t have to pa-“

You roll your eyes, shoving three fingers into his mouth. Thor looks more confused than anything else, but he does immediately stop talking. Good, exactly what you wanted.

You two stay like that, your jaw tightened with one eyebrow raised – daring him to defy you - and him looking up at you like a puppy who’s just pissed on the carpet in defiance. “Listen, you little brat. I used to babysit for twenty dollars an hour. I put myself through grad school twice on money from too-rich white-ass parents who couldn’t control their kids so they pawned them off to underpaid college kids. I got here because I worked for it, dealing with men much more powerful than you acting like children. If you think for a fucking second that I will tolerate this behavior in my house, under my roof, then you are wrong. Very wrong. Do you understand me?”

Thor’s eyes narrow, and though he doesn’t bite, he does press his teeth into the skin of your first knuckle. It’s enough to keep your attention entirely on him, eyes locked on his as you throw your phone onto the bed next to you. You know this game, and you know breaking first would mean he has some sort of holding over you. Unblinking, you stay silent as he swallows around your fingers.

The tension in the air is thick; it’s nothing you can’t handle, nothing you aren’t used to. Thor is the first one to surrender, looking down at your baby pink stilettos. “Good boy,” you huff, moving to open a drawer that conveniently sits just within arm’s reach. You withdraw you hand from his mouth but don’t move to wipe his spit from your fingers. Thor can’t see anything you’re doing, but does hear a smaller (and less used, judging by the squeaking noise it makes as you open it) drawer open, the sound of a little bell, and then the loud scraping of both drawers closing on top of each other and hitting the back of the structure that holds it.

“Head up,” you command. “Look at me.” Thor’s hesitant but ultimately obeys. His eyes widen as he sees the items in your hand. The first is a simple, black ball gag and the other a frilly, pink collar with a small bow and equally tiny bell at the front center. In the back, an adjustable metal clip.

The gag is slipped on first, the uncomfortably large sphere blocking any searing remarks from leaving his lips. As spit pools below his tongue and from the corners of his mouth, all he can do is growl low in his throat.

Despite your long, pointed nails you open the clasp of the collar with ease, flashing it close to your captive’s face like an owner showing a dog his new restraint. Thor may be your pet, and you may be his rightful owner, but the move isn’t one that builds trust. It’s one that makes his insides curl, because it’s a demonstration of how much power you have over him. Look at this thing, the gesture conveys. Do you understand now? You’re mine. Everyone will know that. Everyone will know what you did. This is your retribution.

“Are you gonna shut up now?” Thor doesn’t move, but he also doesn’t make any disgruntled noises. “Good. Now, let me make myself clear, since it appears you do not know the terms of Stark’s and my agreement; Stark settled to give me the man who permanently injured one of my best men in exchange for my forgiveness of the entire event. That means two things. First, Stark gets the money he needs from my business in order to remain powerful. Second, I get to do whatever I want to you. Understand?”

Thor’s eyebrows furrow. What do you want to do to him?

“For now, though, I am going to untie you and go to bed, because I am tired, and it has been an exhausting day. Got it?”

Thor nods.

“Good.”

He flinches as you kneel down to his level and begin to untie him from the complicated binds. Your fingers move with purpose, your nails occasionally scraping across his electrified skin. With his body uninhibited, he flexes his fingers as to examine the indents in his flesh.

“Don’t worry,” you tell him. “Those will go away by morning.”

Somehow, he doesn’t believe you.

He spends the night on the cold wooden floor, occasionally making a desperate attempt to fit himself on the tiny plush pink carpet that the dresser rests on. Thor doesn’t get much shut-eye, time either spent shivering or trying to plan for survival. He can’t escape, it’s been made very clear that both Excidium and the Nest will both be hunting him down if he so much as pisses where he’s not supposed to. It seems keeping his mouth shut, following orders, and taking whatever it is you want to put him through with whatever tiny amount of dignity he has left.

(As the night progresses, he realizes the last part will be the hardest).

When the world comes alive again, Thor remains mostly ignored. As the sun comes up and you awaken with your alarm, he barely gets so much as a brush of fabric as you pull off your white nightgown and slip into a pale-yellow sundress with a long, white cardigan. It’s much different than what you were wearing last night, but as you readjust the strap of your lacey white bra from its improper place on your shoulder, he guesses that was more show(wo)manship and a reiteration of hierarchies than an honest exchange between business partners.

As the first full day under your whim progresses, he’s left behind as you move to your office. You feel some time apart may be good for his insolence, even if his fierceness amuses you so.

You like a challenge, especially one you know you can win; a little tussle didn’t hurt anybody, has it?

You instruct one of the new recruits to buy you a dog bed – the largest one they can find – and you have it placed on the floor next to your bed so you can keep an easy eye on him throughout the day. Thor’s kept on a leash attached to the collar on his neck; the piece of leather is flimsy at best, but the man still refuses to break out of it for fear of punishment.  

There, on a large, baby pink pet meant for some Doberman or Pitbull or other bigass dog, he waits, ears perking up whenever someone, anyone steps into the room. But, while he craves human contact, the hushed voices of the maids that clean up the dirty clothes and make your bed make the hairs on the back of Thor’s neck stand in fear.

Natasha, lover, retribution.

Bucky, money, revenge.

Loki, trip, return.

He can’t tell which name fills him more with dread. Barnes is barely healed and full of rage at his injury, desperate for vengeance against the man that hurt him so. Natasha Romanoff is a woman that Thor has never truly met, only seen when Stark and you have business that requires some back up. Even so, the stories of her apathy and brutality need no introduction; once, she cut a dude’s dick off, made a wallet from the foreskin, and sent it to him while he was recovering in the hospital. She carries a switchblade in the inside of her bra. She only has red hair because the blood crusted onto it permanently stains the follicles.

And Loki…

Well, Loki and him have been estranged since they were both late teens. They’ve both had daddy issues since birth, and Loki’s so happened to manifest in a weird mix of picking up mercenary work, becoming a serial sugar baby, and wearing a lot of black. The last thing Thor would expect is for Loki to settle down for someone like you, a woman who requires loyalty of heart, mind, soul.

His thumping heart and terrifying internal monologue are interrupted by a maid, one he hadn’t yet seen, whose face scrunches up when she notices your absence from the room. She then sighs, and beckons two other maids – one pushing a cart filled with a small buffet of food, one carrying a cart with cutlery and dinnerware – through the threshold. The three of them stop at a bone-white desk, fretting about as they set up what Thor can only assume is a late lunch.

As you step into the bedroom – pushed through the doorway by the maid from before – Thor can tell you are less than happy.

You’re annoyed, to say the least. Can’t even tell why, really, can’t find an even barely comprehendible reason for you to be tearing through financial documents as if they were important family heirlooms that were on fire. No reason for you to snap at a recent recruit for misspelling the code name of a spy you had placed in the Nevada Supreme Court three courts back. Some madness bites at your skin as you nibble on small sandwiches and drink a large glass of cold sun tea, and Thor can tell it’s tearing you apart.

Thor can’t see much from the floor, but he can feel the electricity in the air as you scribble in a notebook that he guesses is where you plan all of your mob’s heinous activities. He wonders what your handwriting looks like, how you keep all the people you’re blackmailing straight, what kind of code you use. Stark keeps everything on paper as well, in a locked room inside of a secret room inside of his basement (well, maybe. Thor’s never been there, he’d never gotten high enough in the Nest to warrant being given access to such a space, but he’s heard the rumors).

It's about an hour later when the head butler from before, the one who led him, his (former) boss, and his (former) bosses men through your maze of a home, steps just into view of your tired eyes.

“Miss, you need a break,” she says simply.

You sigh, rubbing at the bridge of your nose and then your temples. Resting your head in one hand, you use the other to grant her permission to grab your paperwork. It’s only when she’s gather your things and left the room that you speak.

“She’s right,” you let out a small chuckle before sauntering over to the white dresser in the far corner of the room. “I do need a stress reliever.”

The man on your floor can’t see what you’re doing, his eyes only widening when you place the thickest, blackest dildo he’s ever seen into his view.

“Wh-“he starts to speak, trying but failing to push himself away from you. “What are you doing to do with that?”

You shrug, eyeing it up and down. “I don’t know. Could fuck myself with it…could fuck you with it…”

Thor’s stubbled face is beet red from embarrassment, even more so than when you made him kneel in the dining room or gagged him with your fingers.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, you little slut,” you hiss. When he doesn’t look up at you, you grab his chin and force his head back. He doesn’t want to admit it, but it wouldn’t be fun if he just gave in the second you put the tiniest bit of pressure on his overly-tough facade. “Tell me you love sucking my cock.”

But all Thor does is open his mouth wide as it can go and pushes his flattened tongue as far out of his mouth as it’ll go. He’s got this glimmer in his eyes and a smirk on his lips that tells you Thor knows what he’s doing, he knows he’s pushing every button he can think to push.

You’ve danced this routine before, though this time Thor’s much more confident, willing to push further, push harder.

“You want to be a brat?” You ask, begging him to give you a smartass response. “Then take it like one.”

With swift movements of your right leg he’s pushed flat on the ground, his back hitting the hardwood with a low thud. “Flip over,” you tell him. With an unfortunate lack of protest, he does, toned stomach settling onto the floor barely warmed by his back.

You climb over him, leg on each side and core pressed into him as you gather his hair in your first. “You’re such a fucking tease,” you hiss through grit teeth. Thor makes a similar – but more pained noise – as you wretch his head back. “Such a little tease, begging me to put him in his fucking place. If you wanted me to fuck you like you deserve, you should fucking ask for it next time.”

Smack, the deep sound of your callous hand hitting the soft flesh of his ass almost makes him flinch more than the pain. Smacksmack, two more, quicker this time.

“I’ve met little fucking brats before, but never like you,” you pull the rest of his clothes off with minimal protest. “Gotta get you cock drunk before you’ll figure out how arrangement of ours works, don’t I?”

Thor, with his eyes scrunched shut and mouth lax, says nothing in return.

Your hand reaches under him, hips lifting to provide a small space between him and the floor. He’s already hard, aching, leaking, and he moans brokenly when you wrap your hand around him.      

It’s rough, hurts more than it pleasures, but it still feels so, so good all the same. Thor almost wants to say so, too, but can’t make himself push the words from his throat.

“So easy to get you all fucked out isn’t it?” You whisper low in his ear. “So easy to break brats like you, makes me wanna make you cum and then leave you here for the rest of the night…”

The subsequent whine from Thor makes you laugh and push him harder into the floor. “But I won’t do that, can’t leave little things like you all alone, would be like leaving a baby bunny to a bunch of wolves.”

Thor doesn’t disagree, doesn’t try to build his demolished ego back up.

“Doesn’t that feel good, sweetheart?” you purr, hand keeping a slow, torturous pace. “Doesn’t it feel good to be good?”

All Thor can do is squeak and push his face into the floor, trying to hide the deep redness in his cheeks.

For once, you don’t punish him. You want to, want to stop and make him beg for forgiveness for his nonanswer. Maybe tie him up and fuck him with your fingers until he’s ready for your biggest strap, pounding into him.

Oh, Babyboy, you’re being so good taking this whole cock inside of you, aren’t you? So good for your owner. I bet nobody’s ever fucked you this good.

Maybe you’ll tie him up, edge him until he’s sobbing. Wait until he’s just about to cum and pull a vibrator or your hand away – make him whine and tease him as his whole body twitches.

Are you not enjoying yourself, baby? Because it looks to me like you are. Look at those glassy eyes, do I need to slap you to make you pay attention?

Thor screams as he cums all over your floor, whole body tense then completely lax within the span of seconds. His breathing is loud enough to be heard across nations, each exhale laced with a small moan.

He cries, deep and low, when you climb off of him, tries to arch his spine into the nothingness that once held you.

“Shh,” you tell him. “Mommy’ll be back in a second.”

Thor seems to calm with that, heart still racing but head and body slumped.

When you come back, you hold a bit of salmon - small grains of buttery jasmine rice and cranberry sauce stuck to the pink meat. You’ve grasped it with three fingers – thumb, middle, point – and have it nearly pressed to Thor’s plush, pink lips. It’s still warm, dinner having  been served by the maids despite your absence from the dining room.

“C’mon baby,” you tell him. “You gotta eat sometime.”

Thor glares at you but knows you’re right – his already flat stomach howling in pain from lack of sustenance. Reluctantly, meekly, he pulls your fingers between his lips and swallows the soft food.

“Good boy,” you tell him. “See? Following directions isn’t that bad.”

Thor, for the first time in days, says nothing to the contrary.

 //

[multiplefandomfics]

Elevator

Hey guys so this is our first fanfiction to be posted ever so be nice. We appreciate any feedback and hope you enjoy it. This is going to be a blog with smut so 18+ only.

Norman Reedus x Reader

Words: 2646

Warnings: smut, cuteness overload, fluff, claustrophobia, Norman Reedus & Jeffrey Dean Morgan (because they need a warning :D),

It was a sunny day in Berlin, Germany even though it was just April. A friend and I had planned this trip for over a year. We met at the hotel we were gonna stay in. we went all out on that vacation and rented a good one. The town was also nice and the people very helpful and courteous.

One morning we wanted to meet in the lobby because we were staying on different floors. I was a little late cause the evening had been long and I didn’t hear my alarm. I quickly got dressed while writing a message to my friend and storming out the door a second later. Fortunately I had packed my stuff the day before. I stormed the elevator and hit the button for the lobby. Completely out of breath and focused on my phone I didn’t even notice the doors opening at a different level and two men stepping in. “Nice shirt!” one of them commented suddenly with a deep voice. I looked at my The Walking Dead shirt then at the guys and almost passed out. In front of me stood grinning like idiots Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Norman Reedus. I was paralyzed and for a moment I was sure I was still asleep and dreaming. My next thought was (Y/F/N) would be so jealous when I stepped out of the elevator. “You got a name?” Norman asked. “(Y/N)” I stuttered. “Nice one. You from around here?”  I was just about to find my voice and reply that I wouldn’t be living in a hotel if I were citizen of Berlin as the elevator jerked violently and then stood still. “what in hell…?” Jeffrey Dean Morgan said more to himself.”It’s not moving. Why is it not fucking moving?” I panicked. “Keep calm sweetheart. You claustrophobic or something?” Norman asked worriedly. “Or something...” I replied. I was not afraid of tight spaces the two gorgeous man trapped here with me were the problem. “I’m gonna press the help button.” so I did. Suddenly a voice came through the speakers.

“Hallo, Sie haben die Notfallhotline erreicht, wie kann ich Ihnen helfen?“

(Hello you reached the help hot-line what is your emergency?)

„Ja hallo wir stecken hier im Aufzug im Mercury Hotel in Berlin. Er bewegt sich seit ein paar Minuten gar nicht mehr, die Türen gehen auch nicht auf und hat vorher ganz schön gerappelt.“

(yeah hi we are stuck in an elevator in the mercury hotel in Berlin. It hasn’t been moving in few minutes, the door won’t open either and it jerked hardly before it stood still.)

„Ja ich sehe es im System aber ich kann keine Ferndiagnose stellen oder es beheben. Ich werde einen Techniker schicken müssen aber das wird etwas dauern. Leider fehlen uns momentan helfende Hände.“ at least she sounded sorry.

(Yes I can see it in my system but I can’t perform remote diagnosis. I’ll have to send a mechanic but that is gonna take a while. Unfortunately we are short handed at the moment.)

„Alles klar. Wir lange wird es ungefähr dauern?“

(Alright. How long is it gonna take approximately?)

„Vermutlich ein paar Stunden.“

(Maybe a few hours.)

„Okay wir können ja eh nicht viel machen. Danke für Ihre Hilfe.“

(Okay we can’t to much anyways. Thanks for your help.)

„Natürlich. Ich wünsche Ihnen trotzdem einen schönen Tag.“

with those words she hung up.

(Of course have a nice day anyways.)

“What did she say?” Jeff asked.

“Seems like we’re stuck for the next few hours. She’s gonna send a mechanic but that’s gonna take a while.” I answered.

“I would have never guessed that you’re German. Your English is flawless. Sounds almost like a native.” Norman remarked which made me blush. I had always loved English.

“Somebody got an idea what to do?” Jeff sounded already bored and we had only been stuck for 5 minutes. “I think I got everything we need in my purse.” I said hesitantly, opened it and pulled water bottles, snacks and a card game out of it. “Oh but I should call my friend first. She’s waiting in the lobby for me. One second.” I took my phone out of my pocket and hit dial on the video chat. I wanted to scare the living daylights out of her. I swear I was a good friend. After two rings she took the call. “Hey (Y/N) where are you?” “I’m sorry (Y/F/N) I’m stuck in one of the hotel elevators and the lady at the hot-line said it could take a few hours till a mechanic is gonna fix the problem and get us out of here. But I have some great company here. You wanna see?” I was so giddy I couldn’t even wait for a response. I just turned around and took the guys with me into view. “What the…?!” (Y/F/N) almost fell over. “You alright sweetheart?” Jeff asked worriedly as she almost hyperventilated and I laughed my ass off.  It was almost the same reaction I had had when I saw them first. “Why in hell are you guys even in Germany?” she finally spat out. “We are filming Ride here. We’re touring Europe at the moment.” Norman let on. “What a damn coincidence. I am not complaining. (Y/F/N) It seems we are not getting out of here anytime soon. Could you inform the people at the reception if they haven’t already? Then you should maybe go to a cafe or busy yourself otherwise. I won’t be able to stay on the phone the whole time my battery is gonna die then.” I explained to her. “Okay sure thing. Talk to ya later when you get out of that steel trap. Bye sis.” she replied. “Yeah bye. Love ya.” with that I hung up. “So she’s your sister?” Jeff asked. “Soul sister.” I replied happily. “We’d do anything for each other.” We sat down on the floor and I took hold of the UNO cards. “UNO? Seriously?” Norman laughed. “Yeah UNO. I like the game and I can’t play poker.” I admitted a little embarrassed. So there I was sitting on the floor of a stuck elevator with Norman Reedus and Jeffrey Dean Morgan playing UNO and eating snacks. “So you’re here for vacation?” The conversation stayed casual. “Yep we’ve been here for a week now.” We talked like we’ve known each other forever. It started to feel normal after a while. We made photos and laughed while eating and joking. I had no idea how much time had passed by when the double doors f the lift finally opened and revealed hotel staff, (Y/F/N) and a team of mechanics and tech support people. It seemed almost comical the way I was sitting on the ground with two grown ass men playing cards. “Oh hi, thanks for getting us out but couldn’t it have waited a few minutes longer I had a winning hand?” I sighed. “Betcha didn’t!” Norman challenged me. “Oh the bet is on Reedus!” I replied. (Y/F/N) only stared at me as if she couldn’t believe that we had gotten so close in only three hours. In the end I really had the win on my side and he had to surrender. I gathered all my things and we stretched our limbs outside. Felt good to finally walk again on more than six square meters. “So guys that is (Y/F/N) you met her briefly on the phone.” “Yeah hey nice to meet you” she was blushing like hell and that amused me a lot. “So it is too late to film now. You guys wanna hang out and show us parts of the town you have discovered yet? Maybe grab a bite somewhere?” Norman suggested. “Ehm yeah definitely!” I took the opportunity to be with them a little while longer. “Great our bikes are in the garage.” Jeff interjected. We made our way to the garage underneath the hotel. “You wanna ride with me?” Norman asked me shyly. It was adorable. “Sure thing but only if you let me drive for a while as well.” “You drive motorcycles?” he looked stunned but somehow also in awe. “Yes I have a bike at home. Been driving two wheels since I was 15. always loved the feeling of freedom that comes with it. And around my hometown there are alot of cool biker routes.” I raved. “Maybe we can drive a tour together sometime.” he offered. “That would be amazing. I’d love that a lot.” this time it was my turn to be stunned. He gave me his spare helmet as did Jeff to (Y/F/N) and sat up front on the Triumph. I put my foot on the footrest and swung my leg over the seat like I had dozens of times in my life before. I wasn’t sure where to put my hands so I just laid them on my thighs but he noticed and grabbed them to put them around his muscular middle. I wasn’t gonna object. He was a good looking and nice guy. We drove kinda aimlessly through town and when it turned late I heard through the com in my helmet that was connected to the rest of the group: “Hey guys I’m hungry. Let’s find a place to eat.” Jeff’s voice sounded strained. Well I remembered we had only eaten the few snacks at lunch time and in that moment my stomach rumbled too. “Good idea you know a good pizza place or so?” Norman asked and I felt him talk earlier than I heard him. That was kinda sexy. “Yes actually there is a restaurant just drive left there then the next right and you can park in front of Alfredo’s. We found it last Wednesday.” (Y/F/N) sounded through the speaker. Said, done. Five minutes later we stepped of the bikes and into the pizza place. It was rather small and not too crowded also no one seemed to recognize the guys which was a relive. “Thanks for taking us with you today.” (Y/F/N) said with a dopey smile on her face. I knew that she’d always had a crush on JDM. The whole day had been one big coincidence but the odds were in our favor. Sometimes fate seemed to be on our side. “order whatever you want. It’s my treat tonight.” Jeff gave us his signature smile again which made me melt. “Cheers everyone! To new friendships!” Jeff toasted. “Slainté!” I tasted back. We sat in that restaurant till about 10.30 pm that evening. We had so much fun. Even (Y/F/N) loosened up eventually. “By the way guys, if you wanna come to my hometown to go for a ride some when here’s my number. You can call anytime you want.” I winked at them but didn’t expect a number back. Then I got surprised by Norman. “Want mine too? Gimme your phone.” I willingly handed him my phone opening the display lock in the process. What I totally forgot about was my crazy background screen with a photo of him and Jeff. I smiled a little embarrassed but he seemed to think it was cute. Quickly he typed his number in and handed it back to me. I had to really restrain myself from completely fangirling right then. After eating we drove back to the hotel and grabbed a few drinks at the hotel bar. It was quiet at the hotel probably because it was out of season so we had the bar mostly to ourselves. After a few beers and shots the guys found out that I could really hold my liquor. (Y/F/N) was the one who ended it at around 2 am. I was still only slightly buzzed. “Let’s get to bed you guys gotta film tomorrow. Maybe we can watch?” she asked carefully. “Watch? You guys are gonna be part of the episode.” Norman assured us. Together we went to the elevators but took a different one that time. (Y/F/N) was the first to reach her floor. “Good night everyone see ya later.” she slurred and walked away. Jeff was next: “Night darling.” “Night Jeff” with those words the doors closed behind him. The second the doors touched Norman turned toward me and pressed his lips to mine. I was shocked but positively… if that is possible. “You want this?” he asked me breathless. “Oh god yes!” I exclaimed. We arrived at his floor and with a ding the doors opened. Because of the late hour no one was in the hallway as he pulled me further towards his room. He fumbled with the key-card and after some teasingly long seconds the door to his bedroom finally clicked open. We were still kissing like teenagers. He shoved the door shut with his foot and pushed my jacket from my shoulders. I helped him out of his clothes as fast as he undid mine and soon enough we were naked and I was writhing under his touch. I needed him so bad I was already dripping and he hadn’t even touched me yet. “Please Norman. Take me. I need it.” I whispered in is ear and he shuddered at my dirty words. “on the bed hands and knees.” he commanded. He was in charge and I knew and loved that so I did what he demanded and kneeled on the bed my soaking wet pussy on display for him. I heard him groan and shuffle behind me before I felt the bed dip. I was getting so much wetter in anticipation. Without warning he plunged two fingers in my pussy and they directly hit my g-spot. He was a master and when he buried his tongue into my folds I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. It was impossible to describe. He drew little figure eights on my clit that send electrical shock-waves through me. I was coming undone seconds later. He pulled his fingers out of me and before I could object his cock pushed in to the hilt. He was bigger than anyone I ever had before so the pleasure was combined with a bit of pain as well but I liked that. It was so amazing. I could feel every stroke of his dick so deep inside me he almost pushed through my cervix. “Norman deeper please.” and “oh god yes right there.” was all I could come up with. My brain was like mashed potatoes. I just felt him and nothing more. He grunted and his strokes became erratic “come with me baby.” he panted and that was all the encouragement I needed and I squirted all over the bed sheets. I had never done this before. Completely spent we laid on the bed next to each other breathing heavily. So fucked out. It was pure bliss. “Thanks for that.” I panted out. “For what? I really wanted you since I stepped into the elevator this morning.” he admitted. After some more silent minutes I asked “Norman? What is this between us?” “I honestly don’t know. Let’s just enjoy what we have here for a while. See where in brings us. I definitely want this to continue.” I was so happy about that statement that I just cuddled up to his chest for an answer.

The next morning we sat together at breakfast. Well when Norman and I came downstairs hand in hand we saw Jeff and (Y/F/N) sitting there next to each other looking completely in love. I made a mental note to ask her later what had happened between them. When she saw our intertwined fingers she smiled at us knowingly. I knew I had to tell her everything when we had time. This was the best vacation of my life by far and I was happy to have been stuck in an elevator for the first time ever.

Part 2 is gonna hit later

[5lbsofsmarties]

Steal My Heart and Leave: Alfredo Diaz

Word Count: 1837 Summary: An on-again, off-again relationship is sometimes best forgotten. Other times it just takes someone reaching out one more time. @karlitabi-rrito commissioned me to write this.

Everything around you is blurry. For a second, you are truly unsure as to who or where you are. You don't know how you ended up in this bed, or how you managed to get into these clothes. Then, everything is gradually processed. You are in your room. The thing above you is the ceiling. The thing on top of you is the duvet. The things underneath you are the pillow, and mattress. The thing you are wearing is your pajamas. You can see everything a bit more clearly now. You slowly sit up. You slowly wake up.

The one thing that you find yourself unable to process at first is where the irritating buzz that has shocked you awake is coming from. The room is still dark and your lids are still quite heavy with sleep as you carelessly rifle around in your bed sheets in an attempt to locate and stop your phone from its incessant ringing. After a few less than graceful attempts to grab hold of the device, you manage to pull it from the tangles of your blankets and lift it into the air to inspect.

The harsh, blinding light emanating from the screen causes you to very nearly hiss and forces you to squint down at it as you try to read what was being displayed. At first, you are sure that you must still be dreaming as you catch sight of the last picture that you and Alfredo had taken together before your latest break up. It was the two of you, grinning like idiots, in front of the I Love You So Much mural by Jo’s Coffee on Congress. A passerby had seen the two of you struggling, and giggling, at fail attempts to take the photo and offered to help and take the snapshot. You loved that picture and immediately set it to Alfredo’s contact information, after profusely thanking the kind soul who had taken it.

You haven’t looked at it in quite a while, much less seen it flash across your screen with an incoming call from Alfredo at four in the morning.

You pause for a moment, contemplating just ignoring the call all together and going back to bed, but there is something that tugs at the back of your mind and practically begs you to answer and hear what he has to say. Maybe it’s just a deep seeded morbid curiosity since the two of you had broken up nearly four and a half months ago, but you find yourself sliding the phone open and accepting the call before pressing it to your ear.

“Hello?” you answer with a cautious voice.

There is a surprised noise in your ear before you hear his familiar voice ringing through, “Y/N. You actually answered.”

“Yeah… surprised me too,” you offer with a low chuckle. Slowly, you ease yourself back against your pile of pillows and settle into the gentle nest of blankets around you as you listen to the soft sounds of Alfredo’s breath in your ear.

“You sound tir- oh, shit. It’s like 2 there isn’t it?” he asks, suddenly very concerned.

“Four,” you answer with a slight grin, “But it’s fine. Wait. You’re in London, right?”

There is a bit of rustling on his end and he’s quite for a moment or two before he sighs softly. “Yeah… And, I’m really sorry for calling you so late there. I didn’t even look at the time difference. I just… I needed to talk to you,” he explains, words sounding slightly rushed.

There is a beat of silence and you find yourself suddenly vaguely worried. Why would he call you out of the blue after so long? Was something wrong? You shift slightly in your bed and, with your free hand, reach your arm back so that you’re able to tuck your hand behind your neck where you subconsciously run your fingers over the skin in an almost calming sort of way. You swallow hard against the instant lump in your throat as you stare out into the darkness of your bedroom.

“What do you need to talk to me about, Fredo?”

He sighs softly and you brace yourself for whatever is coming next. “I… I know after last time we said no more - we’re really done. We’ve tried this so many times before and something always happens. Maybe it was us or the timing but, shit, I’m tired of not being with you,” he rambled. Your heart rate picks up, hammering against your rib cage, but before you can even begin to formulate any words in response, he keeps on talking.

“I’ve been in London for a few days and, fuck… do you remember when we’d talk about coming here? All of the different things that we’d see together? I’ve seen them and they all really suck because you’re not here to see them too. And I’m sorry for spilling all of this on you at four in the morning but, maybe this is what I needed to remember how much I really, truly, need this thing to work between us,” he exhales softly as he finished speaking, his words had started to tremble slightly as he stopped.

You allow your eyes to close and let your head fall back to thump softly against your headboard. This was definitely not what you had expected to wake up to, and it was an awful lot to try and take in. In your quiet, Alfredo softly cleared his throat and all you could do was take a deep breath as you got your thoughts in order.

You slowly open your eyes and let out a soft sigh, “Alfredo…”

His name hangs there in the lull between you. You’re not sure what it is you want to say. For the first few weeks after you had broken up, you were almost constantly fighting with yourself over making this exact phone call. You always did. Sometimes, you lost that fight and that is how the two of you found yourself in this cycle of together and not together so often.

“I… I want to be more than a phone call at 4 am, Alfredo. I want to be more than a familiar place you come home to because you’re scared or lonely,” you find yourself whispering. Your eyes suddenly sting with the onset of tears and you squeeze then tighter. “We’ve done this song and dance so many times. I feel like I’m never over you because before I get the chance we’re doing this again. I’m tired. I want… I want more than an on-again, off-again thing, Fredo.”

Alfredo lets out a slow breath, “Baby girl… This isn’t some late night, desperate call. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks but this trip just kicked me in the ass. I want you. I want everything with you. All the things I was unsure of before? They’re gone. I’m in this. For real.”

A single, stray tear makes its way past your lids and slips down the slope of your cheek before you raise a hand to wipe it, and its trail away. There is an ache in your chest that you haven’t felt in some time, and part of you is absolutely furious with Alfredo for dropping all of this on you while he is in a foreign country. Shakily, you wrap yourself up tighter within your bed linens and curl in on yourself, trying to find way to lay that will bring a sense of calm and comfort to your mind and body.

Your silence must be less than reassuring to Alfredo, and you hear him suck his teeth slightly before vaguely hearing the sound of, what you assume, is his hand running over his face. “I… I’m sorry, bab- Y/N. I know that I shouldn’t have done this. I’m being selfish. I’ll hang up and just leave you be. I’ve messed this up too many times as it is,” he says, voice laced with unease and barely covering the creeping sadness.

“No,” you whisper before you can think about it. Your eyes open and you blink quickly to try and rid the remaining tears. “When do you fly back?”

“Um… I get in Tuesday around 2 pm,” he answers, unsure.

You swallow hard and nod to yourself, “Why don’t I meet you at your place when you get back? We can talk, face to face, and figure all of this out from there.”

He is quite for longer than you’d like and for a moment you worry that he was serious about forgetting everything, but you can hear a quick exhale on his end before he speaks again, voice obviously more upbeat and hopeful than it had previously been. “Yeah! Yeah, that’d be great. I’d really, really like to be able to do that, Y/N,” he breathes, and you can hear the smile in his tone.

You can’t help but smile to yourself and relax more against your pillows, “Great, I will see you then.”

After hanging up with Alfredo, you find it difficult to fall asleep again; so, after a few failed attempts you haul yourself up out of bed and shuffle your way out to your kitchen to make yourself some coffee. Your conversation with Alfredo is on a loop in your mind as you stare at the coffee slowly drips down into the pot, filling it almost lazily. Your thoughts drift between the sound of his voice, the words he spoke, and the tone in which they were carried.

Were you really considering getting back together again? Before Alfredo you were very firm in the belief that if you had broken up with someone it was obviously for a reason and that relationship should stay in the past. But there was just something about Alfredo that called you back. Your break up had never been particularly ugly. In fact, they were mostly very amicable; and maybe that is why coming back together always felt so easy.

Once the coffee finishes, you grab the largest mug in the kitchen and fill it up. You make your way out to the living room and curl up at the end of the sofa, absently scrolling through your phone. At some point, you find yourself in your pictures and once again come across the picture of you and Alfredo by Jo’s. You stare at the picture for much too long before you click on the share button at the bottom of the screen.

As if on autopilot, you find Alfredo’s number and send it off to him without a message attached. When the word ‘delivered’ appears under the picture, you feel your heart stutter slightly within your chest. You don’t have much time to lament you decision, however, because very quickly three small dots appear at the bottom of the message thread.

You hold your breath and watch as the dots disappear and a simple message appears in their place.

“Tuesday can’t get here soon enough.”

[aplaceforrtprompts]

233 with Alfredo

As your boyfriend makes it through the front door, you can tell he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders.

You knew from his texts he’s had a pretty awful day which is why as soon as his bag was on the floor your arms were wrapped around him, hugging him tightly. Alfredo didn’t hesitate to hug you back, burying his face in your hair.

You pulled back and gave him a soft kiss, running your hands through his hair as you told him, “I’ve already got your favorite movie on the tv and I made your favorite for dinner.”

He seemed to relax a little just from that simple gesture. He gave you a few more kisses and shook his head softly, “I don’t want to think about what I’d be like without you.”

“A lot more sad and hungry. Luckily you won’t ever have to deal with that,” you told him, getting a soft smile from him as you pulled him towards the living room.