#i actually thot of writing some fic with him a while back and had an outline in my head

[draw-you-coward]

hello i am not dead

instagwam bc it isnt here

[sugarcoated-lame]

Wake Up Call

Joel Miller x Female Reader

pre-outbreak Joel x reader

All of my works are 18+ minors dni!

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Joel knows you’re not a morning person, so he often loves to help you wake up in way that you’ll both enjoy.

or

slow, sleepy morning smut with Joel :)

WC: 3200

Warnings: i’m terrible at titles and summaries i know, this is basically just smut (18+), established relationship, fluff, cuddly joel, smut, somnophilia (kinda?), oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, biting ? (joel bites reader’s shoulder once), a hint of overstimulation, use of a few pet names (sweetheart, darlin’, baby), no use of y/n or description of reader’s physical appearance, moodboard is not indicative of reader’s appearance, joel’s morning voice and joel saying “good girl” in said morning voice deserve a warning. let me know if there’s any I missed! x

a/n: this was my first time writing an actual fic for Joel, so please be nice <3 this was based on some thots that I wrote for an ask that my beloved @sebsxphia sent me 🧡 this was so self-indulgent and I had such a fun time writing it and making the moodboard, I hope y’all enjoy reading!! happy reading, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated 🧡

Joel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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It’s a Monday morning like any other. The sun is still rising in the sky, languidly illuminating the world in its hazy golden glow, and you find yourself waking up the same way you do most mornings as of late.

Eyes slowly blinking open to the steadily brightening light that’s begun to make its way through the too-sheer curtains that cover Joel’s bedroom window, a broad chest pressed to your back, and soft breaths blown into the crook of your neck and moving a few strands of your hair along with them.

A strong arm is wrapped around your middle; one big palm splayed across the skin of your belly beneath your—his— t-shirt while the other rests underneath your pillow.

You’re growing used to waking up to Joel’s warmth radiating through you with all the nights you spend in his bed these days, his legs entangled with yours beneath the blankets that had been kicked further down the bed in the night, the extra warmth not needed when you’re completely encapsulated by the furnace that is Joel.

It’s still early as the two of you begin to stir, a while yet before either one of your alarms are set to go off and pull you from the comfort of each other’s embrace and Joel’s plush bed, and into readying yourselves for the upcoming workday.

 The arm around your waist tightens as you slowly begin to wake. Joel burrows further into the crook of your neck, scruffy beard tickling at the skin of your shoulder where his shirt has fallen loose in your sleep, the action one that’s grown to be of great comfort for you.  

Joel’s always been an early riser. All the nights spent together over the months that you’ve been together now, he’s always woken up before you.

He has an alarm clock, but you never understand why he bothers to set it in the first place. His internal clock is always waking him up naturally as the sun comes up, and approximately thirty minutes before Sarah wakes up for school.

Not that you’re complaining, though, because you’ve come to appreciate the slow and natural way you wake up with Joel.

His flurry of kisses to any patch of bare skin he can find, and the warmth of his broad chest pressed against your back always wake you up gently. It’s a routine you’ve come to love, miles better than any loud alarm.

Though Joel can never seem to sleep later than the sun, he loves it because it means he gets to spend a few extra moments just admiring your peacefully sleeping form.

He knows you’re not a morning person, that you love your sleep and hate nothing more than to be woken up by the shrill ringing on an alarm.

So, another benefit of Joel waking up before you is that he gets to wake you up slowly, gently, snuggling into you and littering your skin with kisses that he knows will bring about that sleepy smile that he loves so much as you begin to stir.

Joel’s morning voice is gruff and somehow even deeper than it already is normally as he turns to nuzzle his nose into your neck, pressing a feather soft kiss to the skin just below your ear.

“Mornin’ sweetheart. How’d you sleep?”

In your still half-asleep state, you just barely grace him with a sleepy hum of acknowledgement before pressing your body back against his, cuddling further into his warmth and beginning to drift off again, not quite ready to wake up yet.

Since Joel knows that getting up early is not even close to your favorite thing to do, he often loves to wake you in a way that he knows you’ll both enjoy.

So, it’s no surprise to you when you begin to be pulled further from your slumber by the feeling of his arms retreating from around you, the loss of the comforting heat of his body against yours causing the tiniest of whimpers to escape your lips.

Joel smirks—though he knows you can’t see it through your still-closed eyes—those strong arms turning you onto your back before his body is sliding further down the bed.

Before you know it, gentle kisses are being pressed to your knees, leading a trail up to your inner thighs, the wiry hairs of his beard scratching lightly against your skin as he makes his way up towards where your panty-covered core has already begun to flutter in anticipation.

Calloused palms reach under your thighs and they’re no sooner being parted by the width of Joel’s broad shoulders, his plush lips pecking along the skin where your thigh meets your hip. Languidly making their way up to your hip bones, dotting a sweet kiss to both before descending.

Nosing along the cotton of your underwear, Joel sends a shudder through your entire body when he brushes over the damp spot that’s begun to darken the fabric.

Taking in your heady scent with a groan, his lips press a single kiss there before the warmth of his tongue laves against your seam through the thin fabric and pulls another sleepy whine from your parted lips.

Joel’s rough fingers dip under the waistband as he reaches up to pull them down your thighs, letting out a low groan as he slowly reveals your core, all pretty and glistening just for him.

You’re still not fully awake when he licks into you. His tongue white hot as it licks a broad stripe up to your clit, mixed with the pleasant burn of his facial hair scraping against the soft skin of your inner thighs, has your hips bucking against his mouth and quiet whimpers leaving your lips even in your still-sleepy state. Joel can’t help but growl at the taste of you.

His strong arms wrap around your thighs to hold you in place, to keep you open wide for him as he fucks you with his tongue, and it’s only when he sucks your sensitive bundle of nerves between those plush lips that you fully awaken on a broken cry.

With your eyes squeezed shut now from pleasure, one of your hands reaches down blindly into his soft, sleep-mussed curls as his tongue swirls around your clit in firm, tight circles.

You’re already getting close to reaching your high when your eyes finally open and you peer down to see Joel.

The bottom half of his face is slightly obscured under the covers as he makes his way back down to your entrance—the tip of his nose brushing against your clit and rendering you dizzy while his tongue laps up the gush of arousal there, and those deep, chocolate eyes boring into your sleep-hazy ones as one hand leaves your thigh so that one of his thick fingers can join his tongue.

Joel turns to press a kiss to your inner thigh, and you can feel his slight smirk against your skin along with the tickle of his beard as he murmurs a quiet “Mornin’, baby.”

The deep, raspy drawl of his morning voice has you clenching down around his finger as it pushes into you, pulling a breathy whine from you as your own fingers tighten their hold in his hair, and you’re barely able to get out a shaky good morning back to him.

In the tranquil, early morning quiet of Joel’s bedroom, you both can hear just how wet you are for him. The deep groan he lets out mixes with your breathless cries as you both listen to the squelch of his digit sliding in and out of you.

“Ya hear that?” Joel’s lips press again to your inner thigh. “So wet for me, darlin’. Were you dreaming of me?”

It’s all you can do in your hazy state to let out a hum of agreement and nod, not trusting your voice as his words and his thick finger pull you closer to that edge.

Joel’s cheek still rests along the smooth skin of your thigh as he turns his gaze upward to watch your face while his finger continues its ministrations. He nearly growls at the sight—your head thrown back and hair spread messily across his pillows. Brows furrowed and eyes clenched shut in pleasure, your perfect lips parted and letting out the prettiest sounds as he works you over.

“Joel— fuck.” You can’t help the desperate moan that escapes your parted lips as Joel adds in a second finger and crooks them just right. Turning your face into the pillows to quiet the sound—his daughter is still sleeping right down the hall, after all—your hips buck toward him of their own volition and push his fingers even deeper as they prod against that spongy spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

“Doing so good for me, baby.’ Joel praises with one last peck to your thigh, before he turns his head to press a lingering kiss to your swollen clit that sends a jolt up your spine.  

Then, he’s trailing back down toward your entrance, drawing another gasp from you as the tip of his nose just barely grazes your clit. You can’t help but whine at the loss of his fingers as Joel pulls them from your core, your walls clenching around nothing for only a moment before the warmth of his tongue takes their place.

Joel laps up some of your wetness with a groan that sends shockwaves through your core before his tongue presses back into you. The warm, wet muscle glides through your walls, in and out, and you find yourself whimpering in frustration at the feeling—oh so good, but not quite full enough.

It’s enough to have your hands relinquishing their hold on his locks and scrambling to pull him up the bed by his shoulders and begging him to fuck you.

“Joel, please. Need you now, baby!” Your voice sounds breathless and borderline frantic, and Joel can’t help but feel a little pride in just how worked up you get for him.

“Need—”

He cuts off your desperate pleas with a bruising kiss, pulling a needy sound from deep in your throat at the taste of yourself on his lips as they meet yours.

Joel parts from you to glance at the clock on his nightstand. He knows you’ve probably got about twenty minutes now before you each have to get ready for your respective days—before Sarah wakes up for school, and she’ll be knocking on his door to make sure that he’s up and ready to take her there before he heads to work.

Plenty of time to give you what you need.

Joel takes a moment to admire your features—pretty eyes still bleary from sleep, bottom lip swollen from his kiss and from being bitten between your teeth as you tried to keep your moans quiet. Chest heaving slightly in anticipation, nipples pebbled underneath the loose fabric of his t-shirt as you wait for him to make the next move.

He leans in to give you one more lingering kiss, his tongue parting your lips and meeting yours in a languid swirl that leaves you feeling dizzy when he pulls away.

Joel shifts back onto his knees, and you have half a mind to protest him being so far from you before his hands are meeting your hips.

“Turn over, baby.” He instructs you softly, those strong hands moving you with a surprising gentleness as he guides you to lay on your stomach.

You lie with your cheek pressed to the pillow, fingers digging into the sheets underneath it, your body tingling with anticipation as you wait for him to touch you.

Joel hastily removes his boxers, biting back a deep groan as he gives his already-throbbing length that’s been neglected until now a few firm strokes, spreading the precum that’s pearling at the tip as he watches your thighs clench with need.

You feel the calloused palms of his hands begin to trail the back of your thighs, and up slowly over your ass, fingers pushing up the hem of his much too-big t-shirt that you wore to bed along with them and making you shiver as they expose the smooth planes of your back.

Joel’s hands slide back down to part your thighs and make room for him, lifting your hips just slightly, and then he’s positioning himself over you.

With his broad chest pressed to your back once again and your spread thighs bracketing his, he reaches down to run his cock through your folds, gathering up your slick and pulling sharp gasps from you both as his tip bumps against your clit, before he notches himself against your entrance.

His body is a comforting weight against your back, the both of you letting out simultaneous sounds of pleasure and relief as Joel pushes into you slowly. His face rests in the crook of your neck and he groans at the way your tight, wet walls envelope him just right, the muscles already clenching around him as he waits to move.

Hips pressed to your ass while he gives you a moment to adjust to his length, Joel revels in the way you whine at the fullness of him. It’s always a stretch to accommodate his size, but you always take him so well.

“Mm—move, Joel. Please, baby.”

Your words and your hips attempting to buck back against him under his weight are enough for Joel to start moving, arms bracing beside you as he pulls his own hips back, slamming back into you in one quick thrust.

“Fuck!” You bury your face in the pillows to muffle your moans as Joel begins a steady pace.

All of your senses are completely surrounded by him—his scent on the silky fabric of his pillowcase, the hairs of his beard scratching at the column of your neck as he quietly grunts and moans into your ear, the weight of his strong body pressing you into the sheets as his cock fills you up and quickly pulls you back toward the edge of that cliff, more than ready to fall off.

Joel’s lips begin a trail of kisses all along your neck and up to your ear so he can whisper directly into it, that deep drawl of his eliciting a downright sinful mewl from your lips.

“So good for me, sweetheart. Always feel so good.”

His praise has your walls clamping down around him tighter as Joel fucks you slow and deep into the mattress. Both his words and his hips stuttering as he drives into you, bringing you both closer and closer to your highs every time his length prods against that spot inside you that makes you feel like you’re going to come undone.

“So, fuck—fuckin’ tight.” Joel groans as he buries his nose in your hair.

One of his large hands reaches out to cover one of your own that’s still tightly gripping the sheets, the other snaking its way beneath your body to find your clit and you shudder underneath him as the speed of his thrusts begins to quicken.

Face still buried in the pillows, your desperate cries of Joel’s name are muffled as he works you closer to the edge. The feeling of his cock dragging through your slick walls and filling you oh so deep, and the rough pads of his fingers circling your clit, leave your mind feeling hazy—and not because you’re still sleepy.

Joel can tell that you’re close from the way that your moans have shifted into breathless, broken cries, your cunt clamping down around his cock in a vice-like grip that’s driving him to the brink right along with you.

“Such a good girl for me,” He pauses to press a gentle kiss just behind your ear before he continues. “Need ya to come, baby.”

Joel’s words of encouragement, along with his deft fingers speeding up in their assault on your clit, have you falling over the edge with a sob of his name.

“Good girl.” He mutters close to your ear as his hips continue to piston against your backside, fingers still rubbing your clit and leaving you a writhing mess underneath him.

Your loud cries are softened as you bite down on the pillow below you when the pleasure borders on overstimulation. You feel so full as Joel continues to fuck you nice and deep, working you through your orgasm as he begins chasing his own.

With your release soaking his cock, and the velvety walls of your cunt practically strangling his length, his hips begin to falter in their rhythm and it’s only a few more thrusts before Joel reaches his peak.

Pressing impossibly deeper into you, he leans in to bite down on your shoulder through the fabric of your t-shirt to muffle his moans as he coats your spasming walls with his cum.

Joel’s deep, throaty moans mix with your softer sighs as his hips gradually come to a stop, still buried deep inside you as his fingers leave your oversensitive bundle of nerves, hand now retreating from beneath you as he lets his weight slump against you for just a moment.

With a few more kisses to the side of your head, Joel makes his way back down to your neck, and then to your shoulder where his lips press tenderly to where he knows is probably now a bite mark under your shirt, before he slowly pulls out of you.

The weight of him leaves you as he moves back onto his knees on the mattress, taking a moment to admire the mess of you both between your legs.

Joel then reaches for the box of tissues on his nightstand, grabbing a few to clean up the mix of your releases that’s begun to leak out of your core, tossing them into the trash can beside his bed and moving to turn you onto your back.

Body pliant and sated, and practically melting into the mattress, Joel can’t help but chuckle at you as leans down to meet your lips in a kiss so sweet it has you sighing against him.  

It’s only a few moments after you’ve finished, after he lays back down on the bed and pulls you onto his bare chest, that the alarm goes off with the shrill signal that it’s time to start the day.

With a groan, you look up from your spot lying against Joel’s chest to see him already gazing down at you, a small smirk lifting the corner of his lips as he reaches a hand up to run through your hair.

“Guess it’s time to wake up, sweetheart.”

With a dramatic roll of your eyes, your head flops back down onto his pec with another huff of disagreement and the two of you share a breathless laugh before Joel moves to shut off the alarm.

And, though you won’t admit it, you definitely wouldn’t mind an early wake-up call if you got to wake up like this every morning.

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Aaaaah thank you for reading!! Don’t hesitate to leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed! x

tagging everyone who reblogged the original post that this was based on 🧡 : @seitmai @givemeth @lumoverheaven @fangirlbang @onceupona-happilyeverafterlove @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @twoheartscanyon @sunblchdfly @caffeinated-idiot @fandomimagines2023

and a few others moots who i think may be interested 🫶🏼 : @softiedingo @joelsgreys @gasolinerainbowreads @thepascalofus @ilovepedro

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

IS THERE A VERSION OF JOEL MILLER I WOULDN'T FUCK?

[a case study in how thirsty i am for this man.] [aka fic recommendations]

Unfortunately, in my extensive research on this topic, I have found some pretty damning evidence against my sanity.

dad's best friend!joel miller x fem!reader

Your Summer Dream [masterlist] by @swiftispunk It is a scientific fact that if you place Joel Miller on a beach he becomes 100x hotter. I don't make the rules, I just report them.

Creep it Real! by @swiftispunk I am a puddle. I melted and I'm a shallow pathetic puddle. Cowboy and Angel. I just hnnnnnggggg. I need him to ruin me pls dear god.

*I'm realizing if i include all the DBF!JM i read this will get very long, very quickly, and i think i have revealed enough of myself on this blog to highlight my very obvious daddy issues

**speaking of daddy issues...

stepdad!joel miller x fem!reader

Don't Be Cute, Be Nasty by @cockslutpadalecki i'm pretty sure this was the first stepdad!joel miller anything i read and it awoke something in my soul. it's always fun to reach new levels of my daddy issues and BY GOD was this just 🫠

Bad Girl [part i of many] by @seventeenpins he walks in on her while she's watching stepdaddy porn and good lord it gets filthier and filthier in the best kind of way.

boyfriend's dad!joel miller x fem!reader

Lost in the Dark [masterlist] by @iamasaddie i expected to be a slut reading this but then it made me an emotional slut out of nowhere i am obsessed. there is nothing i love more than being drawn in by my thots only to be hit by an emotional bus out of nowhere.

Thigh's Out AU [masterlist] by @toxicanonymity not only is this a boyfriend's dad AU, but said boyfriend's dad is a hot and slutty. just like i like my dilfs.

father-in-law!joel miller x fem!reader

Pink [masterlist] by @netherfeildren holy fuck. that's all. just holy fuck. this altered my genetic makeup.

Help, I'm Stuck! by @nosesitter spoiler alert: he takes her wedding ring off before dicking her down and I-- 👀 send help.

***i didn't think i had a lot of significant other's father!joel miller in my repertoire, but i had to stop myself again from listing them all on this one otherwise we'd be here all day. shit, i'm learning things about myself 🤡

dark therapist!joel miller x fem!reader

Session 1 by @elvinaa i think this only highlights how badly i need an actual therapist (as does this entire list actually).

sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader

Meet Me in the Back (1) & The Night is Dark Enough ... (2) written by @atticrissfinch It does not bode well for me that this version of Joel Miller made me so fucking feral. In no way, shape, nor form should a sleazy gas station clerk make me feel this way AND YET HERE WE ARE.

tattoo artist!joel miller x fem!reader

Honeyed [masterlist] by @softlyspector This one absolutely hits too close to home for me, but that's probably why I'm so obsessed with it. My touch adverse yet touch starved ass ate this up and left no crumbs😌

chiro!joel miller x fem!reader

Say Yes to Heaven by @pascalisbaby i thought the medical side of my brain would cringe at the doctor/patient dynamic but as it turns out my depravity knows no bounds 🥵

frat dad!joel miller x fem!reader

The Old College Try by @proxima-writes i didn't even know this was something i needed in my life until it came into my life. blessings🙏🏼

ceo!joel miller x fem!reader

Sex on Fire [masterlist] by @macfrog i don't think i need to harp on what that sugar daddy vibes do to me🤤

mafia!joel miller x fem!reader

Divine Dynasty by @cavillscurls Remember when I said putting Joel by a body of water makes him 100x hotter? The same applies to a Mafia AU. I can't explain it. I have no sound reasoning to support my claim other than "he hot tho".

pornstar!joel miller x fem!reader

I Know it When I See it [masterlist] by @bageldaddy 🔥🔥🔥 that is all.

maintenance man!joel miller x fem!reader

Maintenance Man [masterlist] by @gracieispunk toolbelt. say less.

slasher!joel miller x fem!reader

Slasher [masterlist] by @toxicanonymity i thought for sure, FOR SURE, this would be blind, pure, detached smut that i could enjoy with no emotional ties whatsoever. and then all of a sudden i'm feeling things??? he just loves his mom so much�� mama's boy wants to be happy. JAIL. real jail for murderer joel miller. horny jail for me. and audacity jail for toxic b/c how dare you make me feel things for a serial killer😩

as i said previously, the evidence speaks for itself. i have yet to find a version of joel miller i could not immediately fuck. i'm actually planning (i have a lot of plans and no time smh), to go through all these on my recommendation blog w/play by play commentary so everyone can know just how unhinged i am for this guy.

but now!! you guys have a syllabus for my insanity!!

now, excuse me while i go find a therapist (a real one, not a hot/dark joel miller version of one) (although beggars can't be choosers right?👀)

dividers by @saradika

[chaneajoyyy]

Just watched top gun maverick…… and whooo Chile. Any fics for any of them and a poc or black reader?

You know it! @leahnicole1219

TOP GUN FANFICITON (!black reader or !poc reader)

BRADLEY "ROOSTER" BRADSHAW

"you know what i need in my life is to run and jump iinto bradley bradshaws arms to kiss him like he's gets back imma sprint"- @inkdrinkerworld

"he met me in my im going to stay single phase & now i'm obsessed with him (!au)- @deanscroissant

hit the hard deck series- @purplelily247

crush (bradley x black!oc), good wife (x!blackoc)- @dulcewrites/@dulcelibra

"he puts on such a hard front but he's a total pleaser in the bedroom. he'll go all out if you're having a hard day and not ask for anything in return, no matter how much you insist it'll make you feel even better, the rooster and i series- @princessphilly

LT JAKE "HANGMAN" SERESIN

call me jake series, watermelon sugar, hangman is secretly possessive and loves leaving marks everywhere he can especially if he sees someone else flirting with his girl, Can I request a soft moment between Hangman and the girl he is seeing?, thinking about calling him daddy for the first time. Like, it just slips when you’re begging him to touch or fuck you and the man goes feral., ohhhhh Hangman finally getting with the girl of his dreams but she’s not convinced he actually likes her because she’s heavier and he’s carved like a greek statue, so he spends the night proving to her just how much he’s attracted to her, i know you wanted smutty but I’ve been feeling really blah lately so if you could hit me with some humor fluff maybe slight smut? With rbf reader who is blunt saying 10) “Look, I’m not into choking but I wouldn’t mind if you grabbed me by the neck every once in a while.” To hangman while playing pool just completely shocking him, going off the thought that Hangman has a classic sailor pinup on his thigh... Could we please have some Hangman tattoo worship please?- @princessphilly

mrs. seresin- @afictionalwhor3

jake's love language, cowboy's date with a georgian (xblack!oc), wet dreams, texas roadhouse, jade, alien storytime (another world series) - @entertainmentgirl80

"hello hello my love <3 I thought maybe I could request something where reader has never really been comforted when crying throughout her life but one time Jake walks in on her crying and just comforts her. She doesn’t expect that and it’s all just a bunch of fluff! I love your writing so much thank you for putting your work out for people to enjoy <3- @inkdrinkerworld

you're pretty, so happening, you're alive, trip to the bahamas no fuck that series- @itsthestutterforme

LT RUBEN "PAYBACK" FITCH

"we neverrrr talk about Payback. Tell me about what happens when Reuben takes a girl out on their first date. Since I'm feeling all mushy."- @princessphilly

LT JAVY "COYOTE" MACHADO

"just wanna share sime little thots on Javy but damn does that man look like he gives such good head. He's reserved but when its behing closed doors that mouth can do anything you want ((but you'll have to ask niceky first)) 🥴", "thots on Coyote and pussy worship?"- @princessphilly

daylight, pie, cancelled flights and beignets- @siempre-bucky

if it's worth your time series, promise this ain't a test, i did what i had to do, for better days, how sweet it is...- @coyotesamachado

flight scare- @words-4u

pie- @siempre-bucky

LT BILLY "FRITZ" AVALONE

***

LT MICKEY "FANBOY" GARCIA

what happens when mickey grows his hair out... - @siempre-bucky

take me by the heart, take me by the hand- @rae-gar-targaryen

warped series (with jake seresin)- @anjaelle

ROBERT "BOB" FLOYD

sundress season, bob is a freak in the bedroom, good girls do, bob and his good girl's wedding night, "anything you got for rooster i'll take it...literally anything but like him on the beach playing touch football" - @princessphilly

white christmas (spy/the americans au)- @dulcewrites

morning showers, koko's and bobby's sexy time, koko's insecurities, expecting again koko's & bobby's special day, koko's special valentine's, - @entertainmentgirl80

the new girl, i think you're cute- @ladyelissarose

might be an understatement- @friendlyneighborhoodchaosdemon

***LET ME KNOW IF YOU HAVE ANY !BLACK READER OR !POC READER FIC WITH THESE CHARACTERS HIT MY LINE!!!***

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Misattribution of Arousal | pt. 2

Fratboy!Peter Parker x gn!reader

Masterlist

Words: ~3k

Warnings: Let me know if I missed anything, but this can be read as a gn!reader. Gets suggestive. Kissing. Fluff

A/N: This is a continuation of this fic. Thank you for the love on the last part – Fratboy!Peter does something to me lol. Hope you like it!

Thanks as always for reading!! Love to hear your thoughts (and thots) <3

It’s not long before you’re leaving a spot open next to you for Peter when he rushes into class a few minutes late. Though you didn’t sit near the back before, you did now so he could easily slip in the seat to your left without disturbing too many others

And so that you could laugh at his little comments without the professor hearing

A little breathless as he removes his backpack, he asks, “What’d I miss?”

Wordlessly, you point to your notes for today’s lecture. The only thing you have written besides the date is “What’d I miss? - Peter” – already knowing what he’d ask

Peter stifles a laugh behind the back of his hand while a smile rises on your face. But any confidence you felt in that moment disappears as he grabs your pencil. His fingers brush against yours before writing something below your question

“You”

He whispers, “That was an easy answer”

With your face hot, you still stare forward, pretending to focus on whatever the professor’s saying. But the heavy weight of his gaze drags down your resolve. To remedy the heat licking up your spine, you try to distract him

“Might be on the test,” you joke, a breathy laugh following your words

Though of course, you could sense the smirk rising to his lips, always winning this back and forth between you two

“Guess I’ll just have to study extra hard, then”

Any witty remark you could’ve had dies in your throat – couldn’t even look him in the eyes for the rest of class

Peter usually ends up taking pity on you in these moments, which much to your annoyance (and sometimes flattery) happens way too often. He’ll tone down the flirtiness and let you breathe before making some other remark that leaves you struggling to face him

--

One time, you joke that he gets off on it. He just laughs, letting the silence to your accusation speak for itself, which only fuels your overactive thoughts

--

Some days, you’re doodling in the top corner of your notebook, random shapes and lines – the occasional flower here and there

Those are Peter’s favorite because he’ll doodle his own flowers in between yours. Usually, by the end of class, he rips off the corner of the page and thanks you for the bouquet 

He laughs it off, teasing you for not focusing in class or something, but you see the way he slips it into his folder for the class. So you eventually doodle flowers on your paper more often, sometimes on his too (when he actually bothers to open up his notebook)

--

And you’d go to his basketball games!!

You didn’t really have a reason to attend before besides general school spirit, but now…

Peter would invite you, quite unsure you’d even want to go – unsure he was a good enough reason to get you to come

But you did show up, bought popcorn and a drink, even subtly adding some of your school’s colors to your outfit

Part of you feels a little out of place in all this, but the look on Peter’s face when his eyes catch yours while jogging onto the court soothes any worries as you watch him

And boy do you watch him. The way he effortlessly gets around other players, how his arms flex when lining up his shot, the sweat slowly beading along his forehead keeps you from looking anywhere else the whole game. After he makes an impressive shot, sometimes his eyes will find yours with that annoyingly beautiful smile

After some games, he’d go back to his place to rest or go out to celebrate with his team. But other times, he’d search you out after exiting the locker room

You raise your hands to keep him from getting his sweat on you, but that just spurs him further – which you’re not too upset about because it means him trying to get you and keep you in his embrace. You’re laughing, trying to push him away but only half-heartedly as most of your mind is on the way his hard body presses against yours

Peter pulls away but only a little as he asks, “Wanna get ice cream?”

And you do. Anything to spend a minute longer with him. And something to cool yourself down

--

One day, it’s in the lulling silence between the two of you in the campus coffee shop that Peter asks you. 

In between conversations, when neither of you have fought your words up your throat and out just yet, the silence had felt comfortable for a short time. In that brief window of time between friends and realizing that you’re actually starting to fall for him. But it’s different now, your nerves over-firing all the time around him, so this silence is like no other as of late: coursing into your muscles to keep you tense and nervous, even making you jump when Peter asks,

“Are you coming to my party on Friday?”

Your eyes blink up from the swirls of your drink to his, only beginning with “Um…” while your brain tries to catch up

You knew his frat house threw parties often, Peter leading most of them with wide arms and his usual grace. He’d mentioned you coming to them before but hasn’t ever asked outright. If how shocked you are by his bluntness rises to your face, he doesn’t acknowledge it. You liked Peter, being with him, but at a house of drunk people you didn’t know – that wasn’t exactly your element

As you balanced the decision back and forth in your head, he just watches, giving you an amused sort of look that doesn’t help your focus in any way. You hold your drink close to your body as you answer

“I don’t know, I might need to catch up on things – especially since someone’s been taking up plenty of my free time,” you pointedly say to him

In the short moment of him smiling, you think he might let you off the hook. But no

“C’mon, I can actually show you around the place. And you could meet my friends if you want”

Tilting your head, you ask, “Won’t you be busy hosting or… wanting to enjoy yourself and party?”

The laugh he lets out isn’t quite like one that follows something funny. More like he’s laughing at you for a bad joke. “I’d enjoy myself plenty just hanging out with you. Promise,” he says, holding up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

That makes you giggle. “Were you even a boy scout, Peter?”

His body leans forward along the table, his hand coming up to ruffle his hair before resting his head on his fist. “If you come Friday, I’ll show you my patch collection”

Smacking his arm, you shake your head. “You do not have a boy scout patch collection in your frat house.” You’re sure his wide grin matches your own, and there’s no way you can say no to him, to anything he’d ask of you in that moment

“Okay,” you sigh, “but if you weren’t an Eagle Scout, then I’m going to be a little disappointed”

He whispers a soft “yes!” under his breath, leaning back in his chair. You roll your eyes at his cheering, earning a soft tap from his foot against your leg under the table

--

Your roommate, watching you unable to decide on what outfit to wear to this, helps you get ready. Something cute? Something revealing? Your roommate leans toward the latter, “Make him start drooling the second he sees you”

Compromising on something in between, you walk out the door into your campus’s night air hoping it’s good enough for… what?

With each step, you get closer to the house, passing other students dressed up for the night, you’re not sure what you’re trying to do. Impress him? Get him to kiss you? Not be too embarrassed to show you around at least…

Music grows louder as you near the frat house, seeing colorful lights stream out from the windows. Just as sneaking thoughts start worming their way through your mind second-guessing this whole thing, you spot him

Peter’s out in front of the house, leaning back against the wall, bobbing his head to the music and sipping from a cup. In the swaying shadows of the lights, he looks beautiful like this – and then he sees you

Instantly, everything about how he holds himself changes. Pushing off the wall, arms stretched wide with that electric smile, he walks toward you

You’re not sure whether you’re relieved that you won’t have to search through a sea of bodies to find him or dreading how nervous his intense gaze makes you

As the distance between you two dwindles, his eyes drag down your body, making you shrink a bit. Maybe it’s the outfit, but he’s like this with you all the time. It’s how he has to be to any girl here

Your hands clasp in front of you, your fingers picking at your nails. Perhaps Peter notices because he grabs your hand in his, sending your skin aflame with his hot touch, and brings it up

Dramatically, he holds it as he bows with a dumb smile, saying, “Welcome to my great estate”

Giggling and embarrassed, you weakly try to pull away, but he holds tight for a moment – like if you pull again, he’ll let you go in an instant. As if he’s asking if you really want to leave his touch

But you don’t so you let him hold your hand as you say, “Peter, you’re ridiculous. I’ve already been here before”

Shaking his head, he fake tsks at you. “Sweetheart…”

Oh my lord. What did he just call you? Wait, shit, he’s still talking

“That was the traditional Boy Scouts greeting, don’t go disrespecting it. And you haven’t been here in its prime time, so I’ll have to reacquaint the two of you”

All you can do is laugh, your mind too fuzzy to think of a good response when that pet name for you rolled off his lips so beautifully. Not that you were focused on his lips

The feeling of him squeezing your hand brings you back, your eyes focusing on the way his head tilts slightly at you, his gaze never leaving you

Clearing your throat, you finally manage to say, “Show me the way, then”

Peter shifts to the other side of you, and the way your stomach drops at the chance of him letting go of your hand shocks you, your heart thumping against your ribs. But he just moves your hand from one side to the other, entwining your fingers with his while walking through the door

You’d been to parties, have become acquainted with loud and stuffy places full of people you don’t know, but the sheer intensity of all that feels tenfold against your chest. You knew his fraternity was made up of a lot of basketball players, but the amount of towering men walking through has you feeling just as small again

For a split second, someone bumps into you, disconnecting your hand with Peter’s as swaying bodies swallow you farther away. Standing on the tips of your toes, you try finding him again, but you can barely see or hear anything

You’re left following the crowd, pushing through until you find the kitchen. Feeling sweat start to form along your skin, you find anything cold to drink, standing off to the side. Though the rest of you feels warm, the part of your skin that he touched feels just a bit colder without him next to you

In the corner, focusing on the people in front of you, you’re trying to calm your heartbeat. And hoping that Peter would somehow find you 

Though with everyone so close and the music too loud to hear another person even if they were yelling next to you, you found it difficult to find peace

Not until you spot him once again

It’s his flopping blonde hair that you first see, recognizing the twisted strands of sunlight as they move toward you. Then his warm eyes as they scanned the crowd

You look next at that usual smile that had started feeling like a familiar comfort – like discovering your new favorite song you wanted to replay for hours on end – but he isn’t smiling

No, his mouth’s set into a straight line, his eyebrows drawn together as his head whips this way and that. Abrasive thoughts in the back of your head tell you not to, that he wasn’t really looking for you. But still, you raise your hand, hoping to grab his attention 

And once his gaze finds you once again, a tightness visibly escapes him, loosening his shoulders as he pushes through to you, not letting anyone stop his momentum until the two of you are face to face

“There you are,” he yells, though it feels like a caressing whisper against your cheek

“Here I am,” you tell him, unable to hide away from his infectious smile that brings one to your own face

“Yeah,” he breathes out. You can only tell by reading his lips, but you find it hard to drag your eyes away from his mouth after that

Not until he asks, “You okay? You look a bit flushed”

Peter pressed the back of his hand against your forehead, checking your temperature with those worried creases adorning his face again. The sheer tenderness brings a shaky breath from your lungs

“Here, let’s go upstairs,” he says, eyebrows raised as he grabs your hand again, holding tighter than before

A pang of apprehension – of guilt – hits your chest. “Shouldn’t you be down here hosting and being with your friends?”

As soon as your question hits his ears, he gives you a soft smile, rolling his eyes as he leads you through the crowd once more. Every time he looks back, making sure you’re okay, a tang of butterflies swirling in your stomach starts up again

The misattribution of arousal theory isn’t lost on you in the moment, and you refuse to be confused like those people. Clearly, your bodily arousal is coming from the suffocating party rather than the handsome man glancing back at you with stars in his eyes

That same inner voice from before raises worries that every pair of eyes watching the two of you might be assuming that Peter Parker’s taking you up to his room, all alone, to make you another one of his one-night stands

But you feel the way his thumb rubs against your skin as you climb the stairs, feeling the callouses he brushes along the dips and curves of your hand – finding yourself unable to care too much about what they all think when he fits so right against you

Outside his door, he knocks a few times, ensuring no one else has snuck in to use it before pulling you inside. All the once deafening noises become muffled behind the closed door, in a world far away from the one you found yourself in with Peter

The clicking of the handle’s lock being pressed clangs through your body, making your eyes widen. Was this what he actually wanted from you? You chewed on your lip, debating the situation in your head in an instant

But once he looks at you, he explains with a sort of breathlessness you haven’t heard from him before. “I just didn’t want to have some drunk couple trying to get it on while we’re talking, I didn’t mean to imply…”

Seeing him as the one flustered for once, his cheeks flushed as he tries to ensure you weren’t uncomfortable brings a surge of something – pride, softness, pure happiness in this uninterrupted moment – to your chest

“Makes sense,” you say, sitting down on his bed, taking another sip of your drink to soothe an ache in your throat… trying to soothe the pulsing that Peter seems to pinprick your body with

“Want another drink?” he asks, gesturing his head to the cup you hold

“I’m okay.” You shake your head, a smile rising across your face. “I’ll have to pay you back for another drink then,” you joke

“You never had to pay me back for the first one,” he says, walking in long strides to sit next to you, the mattress dipping with his weight and pulling your body closer to his

A tightness creeps up your throat, unsure where this comes from as you say, “What excuse would I have had to see you then?” You hope the giddiness, your frayed nerves, don’t show on your face

But he’s staring so intently at you from only a few inches away that he has to notice. But he doesn’t point it out, only whispering, “Let me take you out, sweetheart”

If it weren’t for the dull beats of the music and shouting voices coming from below, you would worry that Peter could hear your heart hammering throughout your body or the hard swallow that scratches its way down

Maybe he does hear it because now he’s only a breath apart from you. Softly, you whisper, “Then we’d have to go on another date so I can repay you”

Still closer now, you’re able to pick out the shimmering specks of color adorning his eyes, and you’d spend as long as he’d allow committing each and every one to memory

Against your lips, he mutters, “Oh, wouldn’t that be a real shame”

You aren’t sure when your hand found its way to his hand pressed into the mattress next to your hip or when it creeped up to his forearm, but it seems every inch of yourself magnetically pulls to him in the most addicting way

Even still, his eyes flick between yours and your mouth – now parted in shallow breaths – with his eyebrows raised, silently asking you the question your body is practically begging from him

At the weak nods you gave him, he asks, “Yeah?”

Your nods turned excited, desperate, as you whispered back, “Yes”

Surging forward, his lips are on yours, his hands pressing down against the fabric of your clothes, his chest pushing yours back. Like he can’t get close enough to you, not in this moment or ever

But the little noise that erupts in the back of your throat satisfies him enough as you lean until your back is flush against his bed and body over yours, his mouth moving as his tongue dips past his teeth and against your bottom lip

You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like this, a push and pull between your bodies, when he tilts his head back. As his forehead’s resting against yours, ragged breaths filling the space between you and a spreading warmth filling an empty space between your ribs, you smile

You smile until your cheeks hurt and he’s grinning back at you – like he’s content not being in on the joke, or maybe just that he knows the exact reason why you’re so happy because it’s the same reason he is

And you let him take you out on that date, with a promise to pay him back with another

--

@reidslovely​

[iamthecomet]

Comet!!!! I am having ♡thots♡ and i love your work so much i can't imagine who else to share them with. Ok, ok. Picture this:

The new bug gets a proper, ghoul style welcome to the pack now he has had a chance to bond with each of them individually and by that i mean they just make a total mess of him you know? (In an enthusiastically consentual way ofc) i'm talking tears, cum, piss, shame, praise, slick, bites,knots. Basically everyone really goes all in on the new bug. The cuddle pile after would be the most sticky place on earth though i know it💀

I thought, hard, about writing this into an actual fic(let). But there is no way I can write this without it being like 10k words. SO....here, have some THOTS. Under the cut, brief mentions of watersports, and also a tiny bit of blood. Mostly stream-of-consciousness thoughts about Aeon getting his shit wrecked by 9 other ghouls.

Aeon's individual nights with the ghouls have all gone really well. There's an astounding amount of communication in this pack. And they take care of him, and he takes care of them, and it's been lovely. But taking everyone at once is another thing entirely. It's all laid out first, talked about hard limits and what they'd all like to do to him. He knows what's coming. But that doesn't mean he isn't surprised when Rain digs the toe of his boot into his bladder while Aeon's sucking him off. He chokes. Rain holds him in place. Dew laughs at him, mouth right against his ear. Calls him pathetic. Shame burns hot between his shoulder blades, and the urge to piss himself follows and Aeon's cock kicks against his stomach. And Swiss runs his hand over the aching head. "Look, he likes it." It isn't all mean, obviously. Mountain, Cumulus, Aether, and Aurora are soft with him. Pressing praises into his skin as they work him over. Telling him how good he is. He sobs from that praise. He learns a lot about them like this. Learns that Rain, as mean as he is, softens when he checks in. But Dew, Swiss, and Cirrus do not. Knowing how to make sure he's green while still calling him a slut seems to be a particular talent of theirs. He learns that Sunshine jumps back and forth, laughing at how quickly he comes when he's called a good boy. And then carding her hands through his hair, and whispering genuine compliments and praises into his ear as she works her cock inside of him. It's a lot. All of them like this. The press of so many bodies up against his, inside of his, all around him. He is oversenstive almost immediately. Sobbing from it. Cock aching, wet, body twitching with every brush of fingers over his balls, his dick, his stomach. But he begs for more anyway, wants it. Leans into that ache, finds that it's good. Finds that he loves the look on Rain's face when he really does piss himself. That he loves the way Swiss calls him names, still fond, and the way Dew sneers at him, like everything he's done is wrong, even as he's shoving his cock down Aeon's throat. He loves the way Cumulus pulls him back, to lean against her body as Cirrus works a strap into him. Her hands are so soft when they wrap around his cock, both of them, even though he isn't big enough to warrant it. Despite the burn of overstimulation it feels like a break, like relief, until it all shifts and his face is being shoved between Aurora's thighs and Cirrus is fucking him hard enough that he feels each thrust in his bones. They take him down to studs. Then, when he's done, spent, covered in cum and piss, and sweat, and a little blood from Mountain's overzealous teeth, they rebuild him. He's cleaned, re-dressed, and then cocooned between them all. Face squished up against Aether's chest. Head resting on Sunshine's thigh. Aurora cemented to his back--held there by Mountain's long arms. Rain between his legs, head on his stomach. They're all touching him somehow. A hand, a tail curled around his leg. Something. A constant reminder of where he is, of who he's with. And how much they all love him already.

[danieyells]

I asked bc some people are touchy with baby trap! Hshs either way I was thinking. VERY likely it's ooc but it's a thot

The mc manages to be freed by the curse but for some reason the matches don't work so darkwick is already like 'sure, finish studying here but you have to go on missions' I'm imagining that something like the Jiro dubcon fic happens but with some changes

like rather than just touching over their clothes he gets bold enough to slide inside them, and that the anesthesia is strong enough for the reader to barely remember it as a wet dream if at all. He ends up cumming inside thinking it would be alright bc he can give you some anomalous b plan pill, but during the while it takes the reader to wake up he warms up to the idea lightly, he wouldn't mind having to take care of your prenatal care. Maybe you could teach him how families work and feel

A few weeks later the reader is in a check up because of general sickness and soreness and Yuri notices something weird in their blood work like hCG so he questions them like "are you sexually active and you didn't think it was important to disclose?" "Mh? Nope since I came to the academy I didn't do anything" but Yuri doubts them bc that only means pregnancy!! So he tells them away and bitches to it with Jiro

"i'm the closest thing they have to a doctor, can you believe they lie about things like that?"

"I can take them next time"

"why do you care? " He starts leaving when Yuri figures something "jiro... Were you two alone two months ago???"

Either way next check up the mc is given a bs explanation about a wild mosquito anomaly that causes pregnancy when biting two people back to back and Jiro being bitten too. Nobody could believe it other than the mc hshshha

re: dubcon jiro fic

That's fair! Like I said, I have no squicks or triggers worth noting, so i just 'p' at just about any thought hahaha

DAMN ANON I DIG THAT the reason Jiro didn't go further in the fic was ultimately because that was part of anon's idea haha and i wanted it to have more of a dubcon and dubious feeling where it was kind of ambiguous if he actually did anything or not, but I feel like I definitely failed to give it the proper feeling of blurred reality lol. . .I think i was in too much of a rush to get the ideas in my head out and in the end I didn't entirely make what i wanted lolol

I think the matches not working could plausibly be explained away by the ring. Just a side effect of its defenses--it tried to protect them earlier after all! It wouldn't want the champion's memories altered further!

But yeah I. I like that a lot lol. . .it's a lot softer and less cruel than I usually like my babytrapping, but it kind of fits Jiro I think(or the Jiro in this fic anyway--)

(sort of kind of in and out writing and musing under the cut. It's like 1am as i write this, don't expect much--also doesn't entirely meet the idea but. /shrug) no written smut in this one.)

The curse is something mundane and silly that they already have the cure for. But they need to be put to sleep for it to work--maybe it's a simple curse where their body won't be able to sleep without outside interference, at which point the curse ends after a good night's rest once something puts them to sleep. Something utterly simple. But they're completely unconscious, at most a faint awareness of being touched that may not even be real. So unconscious that they couldn't wake up from the feeling of their cunt being broken into if they thought it was real. If they were even aware of more than pleasurable pressure at most. It's just a dream like many others. If they had a dream at all. By the time they wake up again it's just fuzzy, blurry, bubble-like thoughts, floating up and popping out before they can really be analyzed. They feel an ache in their abdomen, but they're aching all over and haven't eaten in a day due to the treatment. They can stand, they can walk, they can return to the Cathédrale Terminale. And they can sleep properly and don't feel anything but the ache of a particularly difficult mission, meaning the minor curse they experienced was gone. The days go by as usual, training with anomalous tools to be more useful on missions and studying various fields to help each house.

Jiro almost forgot about it when they come in one day feeling nauseous. It'd been weeks. Yuri had scolded him after reading the detailed medical log. But he, too, was too curious about the results to suggest they cancel his little "experiment" before he was caught.

They both agreed that sometimes ethics weren't worth considering when it came to experiments--or one's own strongest desires.

The anomalous emergency contraceptive he had considered administering after his rather untoward act of unprofessionalism had been placed back in its cabinet.

Injected along with medication to discourage side effects of the curse's healing, was an experiment of Yuri's that had been tested on several anomalies, increasing fertility and successfully allowing for some otherwise unnatural breeding patterns.

He'd drugged them and raped them and cleaned them. And after that, he'd all but guaranteed their pregnancy.

He couldn't imagine being like Yuri and being granted the privilege of acting like a spoiled child.

Perhaps the best way for him to experience 'family' would be to have his own.

That was the real reason the inspector had arrived, nauseous, to Mortkranken. But they weren't going to tell them that. Yuri scolded them for unsafe sexual practices, which they insisted with tears in their eyes they hadn't done despite the presence of hCG in their blood and urine. They had no idea how they could have become pregnant--surely there was an explanation? Yuri clicked his tongue in irritation, as though he suspected they were truly lying. Perhaps still somewhat annoyed by Jiro's misdeed, he said that they couldn't have simply been assaulted in the night by some scoundrel.

Jiro resisted the urge to snort.

In the end an explanation had been concluded--one rooted in some myth but hard to prove or disprove.

There supposedly existed a type of demon called a concubus. These demons feed on sexual energies and fluids. While they might typically seduce humans into feeding them, others were more 'shy' and would do so in the night while one slept. However many were infertile and these were able to impregnate humans using borrowed human sperm, as doing so provided them greater sexual pleasure and thus a more satisfying meal.

A female concubus(typically called a succubus) would have sex with a male human, take the semen, and have sex with a male concubus(typically called an incubus) who would absorb the semen from within the succubus, before impregnating another human with it. While the resulting child would still be human, as they were made only using the genetic material of human parents, the humans need not engage in intercourse to reproduce as a result.

Aside from the circumstances through which the conception occurred, it was an otherwise normal pregnancy with little to be studied.

Although such a horrifying conclusion shook them, they vaguely remembered wincing as Ritsu recited Japan's laws relating to abortion to a sobbing student some time before--surely this counted as rape and the pregnancy could be terminated? But with the way the ghouls were treated and restricted, something told them they wouldn't be allowed to leave campus for such a thing without reporting whoever had harmed them as proof.

And they'd been in Mortkraken long enough to know that no medical procedure would be normal here.

"You have some time to think about it." Is what everyone told them. Ritsu in particular gave them the exact amount of weeks.

Two things convinced them to carry the child to term.

The first was the realization that perhaps these demons would return to the scene of their crime--if they could be captured, the knowledge gained could help a great deal of people, especially the ghouls. Especially Luca, searching for his brother, and ghouls like Kaito, Haku, and Rui, who wanted to return to being human.

The second was the way Jiro placed a strong and heavy hand on their tummy, stoic expression somewhat curious. The way he looked at them and offered to help them. He didn't know much about babies or families or family planning, and he was a little scared to do more harm than good with his freakish strength and tendency to break fragile things--but it would be helpful to have a doctor nearby, right? And to not go at this alone?

"Even if it's not anomalous, a baby is sort of like an infectious disease." Was his comment that made them laugh for the first time the whole day.

(Yuri protested that Jiro handle this, as Yuri insisted he was the only real doctor present. Jiro managed to reassure him that surely an ordinary pregnancy would be uninteresting and unremarkable, and that the inspector wouldn't be willing to have their fetus subject to Yuri's experiments. If anything of interest or concern were to happen, Yuri would be the first to know besides Jiro. But surely he had more interesting subjects to examine?)

A matter of weeks later and the real shock came(for the scholarship student, although Jiro had forgotten, himself) when they ran a paternity test--Jiro had been 'struck by the demons' as well, and his sperm had been used to father the child.

". . .Huh." He was far worse of an actor than Yuri. Fortunately he wasn't one for big reactions to begin with. ". . .I guess that explains how I woke up a while back."

"Do you. . .still wanna help with it?" They asked in an uncertain whisper. "I understand if not. If you'd rather I not keep it. . . ."

"I kind of want it more." Jiro shrugged, continuing to mill about their checkup. "Is that weird? It's mine, so I don't think that's weird. Especially since it's with you."

They gripped their patient gown in their fists, feeling their face heat up from embarrassment. It was a bit of a stretch, and perhaps it was the sensitivity from the pregnancy talking, but that felt as close to a confession as they'd ever gotten from Jiro.

Perhaps these demons weren't all bad. Perhaps they were simply trying to help what they saw as a pair of lovers who needed a little push.

Maybe being a parent with Jiro wouldn't be so hard.

[ambeauty]

I have some many thots and feelings on the season opener of Titans Part 2. I’ve literally had all day to process these thoughts and I hope they come off well intended. Well DCTK was something… I’ll make this a compliment sandwich. In the caul’s folly ep I loved how hands on Dick and Kory were. Dick constantly checking on her meant everything to me. 🥹🥹🥹 That was when I really floated to the ceiling. It is something so wonderful and so beautiful about seeing Dick be a literally shoulder for Kory to lean on, even with how strong she is. That’s how their relationship has always been but not seeing them shy away from each other physically meant a lot to me.

Now Kory not knowing how to read ancient tamaranean was a choice.. and the fact that the vision was not discussed was also a choice… How does the heir to the throne not know their ancient language. I can see if she forgot like when she had amnesia and maybe it would’ve curled over better if she said I can’t translate this right now, it must have gotten loss when I landed. IDK something to prove she hadn’t studied her own race’s native language as the next in line monarch, even if she didn’t want it.

However the Diner scene, when Dick sat next to Kory I have to say I was very pleased. Like that’s really her man without being her man.I can’t deal with them. I love how Kory went ahead of Dick to talk to the cops too. She was gonna use that charm by any means necessary and then Dick stepped in like “Baby, I got this.” 🤭🤭

Now here’s where things get shakey for me. When Kory starts to feel sick and Dick takes her back to the RV, where the hell does he leave her while going to meet with the sheriff? Was he not afraid someone wouldn’t find her after? Idk him going to visit the sheriff alone just didn’t sit right with me. And constantly leaving her “alone” throughout DCTK gave me some friction. Just didn’t seem like the smartest of ideas. But likely she didn’t wander off or get taken.

Ok so here’s my ultimate gripe with the episode. This episode was supposed to be about Dick & Carol & Ted & Kory… and I feel like they only got about a fourth of the episode. I feel like this was an episode full of very flavorful tastings of something reallly really special. I feel like if Tom could’ve written the episode of just Dick & Kory he would’ve went so crazy and I wanna see that version without all of the extra plot points like TimBer and Brother Blood. I wanted Dick & Kory actually communicating about why they put them together as a marry couple since it seemed so outlandish that they could be in bed together 🙄 (y’all have fucked multiple times.. be fucking for real) I would’ve liked you to remember it but yeah idk it was weird. Like funny but weird.

At this late stage of the series the tiptoeing and longing and pining of this ship is tortorous and TIRED. We should not fucking be here. I am sorry. We shouldn’t. Dick should’ve tried to snap Kory out of her spell by telling her some of her memories that intertwined with his. A conversation about the Mar’i vision should’ve been discussed there. I feel like it won’t ever be fully discussed because when do they have the time???

I am just forever upset that so much of s3 could’ve been giving us this but they had to throw Barbara in there for some sick reason. We should’ve gotten all of this pining last season so we weren’t spending majority of our final season there. I feel like the moment we see Dick and Kory happy and in love it’ll be over. Like 5 minutes of it. And what was the point of spending 11 episodes pining. IDK. I know Dick and Kory would have such a beautiful relationship once it’s finally said and done and I am perturbed that I am going to have to spend time exploring it in fic alone.

I just don’t wanna have to write fix it fics because that means that I was unfulfilled by the media and that was fine last season they had time to fix it on their own but the way they went about it here leave so much to be desired.

In conclusion. Dick telling Kory he would never leave her was sooooooooooo sweet. A perfect moments in the midst of a lot of shit and although he didn’t tell Kory directly. She knows how he feels. Idk when they will actually have the talk if they actually have the talk but I am sooo ready to see it. For my little DickKorian heart there’s so much riding on this conclusion. And I hope I can feel satisfied in the end. Right now I feel edged to the end of oblivion not gon hold you.

[popcornfairy28]

Writing patterns ✨

rules: share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

Tagged by @ligercat, thanks for that! I will also be doing the last line, but a few of these are still ongoing fics so I've just got the current last line lol.

50 Ways to Not Die

First line: Arthur was dead.

Last line *(so far): Well, that went easier than expected. Now just to reveal his magic.

Best Secret Keeper Ever

First line:

(Happy Birthday, Isabella)

Unknown number

hi Stacy, it's me, P the #[ ]"> just thot Id text & see if u had any ?s about what happened

Last line:

Stacy

I guess since Vanessa figured out the accounting error, MM no longer knows the meaning of a budget?

Never Really Fit In

First line: Ealdor was a small, simple farming village nestled along the border of the kingdoms of Camelot and Essetir, where life was interminably consistent. Even when going through tumultuous times, it was predictable.

Last line: They left again after a couple days. The village had well grown accustomed to it. Some people never really fit in, after all.

***This is where I'm skipping over The Crystal of Neahtid because it's first line is from 2020 lol and I'm taking last ten to mean most recent, which this is not I just happened to update it this summer (I say that while being pretty sure that the previous fic's first line was also written in like 2020 😂)***

Perry the Teenage Spy: Extra Scenes

First line: SLAM!

Last line *(so far cuz ho boy this is by no means gonna be the last line lol): Well, Candace better not go into nursing. Limping from the bandage being wrapped so tightly, he hobbled over to the nearest lair entrance and struggled into it. Time to do it properly .

Lightsaber Golf

First line: Perry really should have seen this coming, after he'd started taking Phineas and Ferb to Ben Kenobi's for weekly "Jedi" lessons. He knew they wouldn't quite understand the gravity of the situation, and while they would take it seriously, they were still very young at 7 years of age and utterly innocent. They actually liked living on Tatooine, and nobody liked that! Well, at least nobody that Perry hung around.

Last line: “Oh, yeah, right,” Stacy said sheepishly. They walked back to where their siblings and their friends were waiting and continued playing, but Perry stayed alert. It would only take one slip-up, and Perry wouldn’t be able to make good on his promise should Candace ever return.

The Chesterton Challenge Prompts

First line: It was the anniversary since the old king and queen of Vesulia had both tragically passed, several years ago, and their children Queen Bridgette, Prince Aden, and Princess Sasha had a tradition to remember their parents. It wasn't a sad tradition, as they didn't want to remember their parents only in their grief, but instead it was a light-hearted one.

Last line *(so far): “Not the kind you're supposed to brag about, apparently,” Sasha laughed at her brother. He scowled back at her. 

Playing Dead

First line: "Okay, so what are we doing?" Stacy asked after Candace dragged her to the living room, where Perry looked like he was trying to take a nap. He must have been tired after his mission. It was sort of hard to reconcile that this adorable napping creature was a butt-kicking sentient secret agent.

Last line: There was her answer.

OWCA's Fools

First line: On April 1st, Perry spied his team loitering about in a random center at HQ, so naturally he had to investigate.

Last line: There was a reason he usually stayed away from HQ, especially on April Fools’.

Baby Brother

First line: On February 29, 2000, it was an overcast day in London, England, and nearly 7 year-old Perry Fletcher was waiting anxiously in his Grandpa and Grandma Fletcher’s cottage. His parents had left him there as his mother was in labor with his baby brother, which was exactly why he was waiting anxiously. He was pretty sure that Grandpa and Grandma were also anxious, but perhaps they were better at masking it. 

Last line: “I think we should call him Ferb.”

The Princess and the Pulverized Pea

First line: Once upon a time there was a princess who had been traveling all over the world, searching for a prince who she could love. She'd met plenty of lovely princes, but none that she could truly love. There was always something about them that was not as it should be.

Last line: Over the next few days, the prince and princess grew rather close as they waited for her company to find her. When she left to return to her kingdom, they started writing letters to each other everyday. Always believing she was a real princess, the prince would eventually take her as his wife, and when they became the king and queen, they swore never to place peas in their guests’ beds.

I guess the common link is that most of the time I like to have boringly informative openers 🤣. And by that I mean I don't usually have dialogue in my openers or endings (with the obvious exception of chat-fics). Idk, you tell me what you feel like the common link is.

6 of them are Phineas and Ferb, 2 are BBC Merlin, one's a fairytale retelling, and one is original work (all on AO3!).

Thanks again for tagging me! Actually kinda encouraging to post this lol, reminding me that I have indeed published things this year haha!

Open tags I guess!

[captainaikus]

omg Interrupted?? kaiser and sae?? im actually happy to see some kaiser cuz i feel like i never see a lot of him 😭 his character is intriguing ngll

but u know i went straight to saee. i can totally see him just pulling up the silent treatment when something doesn’t go his way 😭 his eyes so pretty tho i wouldn’t even mind the glares. i loved reading their reactions since neither of them have probably ever actually been degraded?? they in their own world doing whatever they want but reader didn’t take their shiit. i ate it all thank you for the meal

-💜

OMG??? YOUR NEW WORK??? i'm speechless, IT WAS SO GOOD 😭😭 i enjoyed reading it a lot (especially michael's part hehe)the reader being the dom one this time sparked something in me 😟– 🌷

Maam. MAAM??? MY DEAR MADAM. INTERRUPTED??? I am. In shambles. Absolutely. Demolished. Broken. Fhhhhhooooo that fic made me realize quite a few things abt myself. Like. “fun” stuff wise. 👀👀 A whole new door just opened for me in the realm of reading fanfics. 😮‍💨😮‍💨 You really outdid yourself with this one seriously. And I hadn’t read a Kaiser fic before this one but I’ve heard a lot abt him and read a lot of hcs and just know general stuff abt him and suffice to say you did a great job with his part. Seriously tho. That fic? 🤌❤️✨ Mwuh. It was amazing. I cant wait for the next part!! - ✨ anon

Thank yuu Lav, tulip and Starry ໒꒰ྀི ๑ ´ ˘ ` ू ꒱ྀིა I'm glad you liked my work. Honestly? the drive behind this idea was from don't bully me nagatoro and a bit of the scenes of boys over flowers as well as the days i got bullied as a child but we won't talk abt that

and the line "Men have to be dominated." i am not sorry and i will repeat it again. men need to be pegged

Reader did not take their shit (and i'm turning everyone into a dom here). But i'm really glad you guys enjoyed the fic, it was the first time i wrote for blue lock with a dominant fem! reader and since it was so well received i plan on writing more.

For Lav : *sigh* where do i even start with Sae. I know for a fact that when things don't go his way, he will try his best to force it. It's the only thing he knows... until you reverse the tables on him. If you're feisty, he'll treat you like a brat. and if you are serious about it catching him his wrists and pinning him down (weight doesn't matter here. he is gonna be surprised and fall back). Dirty talk to him and tease him. He will put up a fight but at the end of the day, he is nothing but a brat himself ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝•༝•⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒ and you're the brat tamer

For Tulip : good. the boys need to be dominated ( •̀ - •́ ). and especially kaiser since he came new on my blog (poor king got dommed). I saw Art's (my bff) camera on my desk - and yk how that panned out as an idea. and there is more that's coming cause honestly... if i had to put my personality in one line : not submissive. I write subby themes, sure but i also write dominant content. and there is only so long that i can hold out for before giving into my... thots and writing this. more kaiser content is coming - with a new edition to 'your words, my hurt.' bring in the sadness and reconciliation

For Starry : I see thou hath awakened. (ง'̀-'́)ง and i will happily take responsibility for that spare no man

And i'm glad you liked Kaiser. It was my first time writing him and it was also the time he got dominated. And i have news- i'm writing 'your words, my hurt' for Bachira and Kaiser- but i'm really glad you enjoyed the fic and starry, i still have your first message in my inbox hanging. I'm gonna take time in responding while eating breakfast or something cause i wanna take my time, savor sentences and answer it as well - i promise i'm not ignoring you lovely ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝•༝•⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒

As for interrupted, i'm deciding to sleep on it. Like let it be on my blog for now and not do anything abt it. Cause a lot of people liked it- instead i'll be focusing more on the half written wips i've got which includes a total of everything you can imagine and now that Christmas is near; i'm working on a new rin fic that i wanted to release for the holidays, fluffy things and then some.

Hope you guys like this one (esp rin's cause i've been thinking abt this for 2 months now and i can't get over the idea of it - tb to the time with me in bed with my tea and being sick - remember that phase?)

[pettyprocrastination]

OH you don’t have to feel obligated to write if you’ve got things to do ^^’ (I won’t say NO but just that I wasn’t trying to get sum’n out of it on my end you feel?: I did see a recent reminder for divorced Frankie though - any thoughts/thots you’d care to spare?)

IM SO SORRY ITS TAKEN ME SO LONG TO GET BACK TO YOU ON THIS BUT I HAVE SOME INCREDIBLY SPECIFIC FRANKIE THOUGHTS (that will be turned into a fic eventually i promise im writing it i SWEAR)

he is in his heart and soul, a project dad/husband. this means that this man? always fixing some shit or starting a new project around the house. You cannot stop him.

you guys get a fixer upper house when you first get married. It's below your pay with some issues here and there, but frankie worked contracting jobs with his dad since highschool and took wood shop every year so he insists he can fix it.

you'll come home to power tools scattered on the dinner table and paint covering his pants because "why would I pay somebody twice the amount it's worth when I can just do it myself?"

if you go to the thrift store with this man and point something out saying "we could fix that up, don't you think." please be prepared to come home and find him working on it in the backyard.

he's covered in saw dust and has the imprint line of his goggles around his face but he's grinning and pulling you into his arms.

"jesus christ francisco" "what? You said that dresser would look nice in our room"! "but i didn't think you were going to actually get it!"

your clothes getting covered in sawdust and wood-stain as he kisses you and claims its "workman's comp"

francisco cursing up a storm while reading the instructions on a crib your mother bought from ikea because "these instructions are like the fucking davinci code" and tossing them aside before saying fuck it and making his own.

a beautifully crafted bassinet now sits in the nursery of baby Isabella Morales :')

After the divorce, this doesn't change.

There's a moment where something breaks and you turn to tell Francisco before realizing he isn't there.

You wait until after you drop elizabeth off at school to cry.

thirty minutes later youre at home when the somebody knocks at the door.

there's a tension, sure. you open the door to see your ex-husband standing there, toolbox in hand and mouth open like he wanted to say something but it dies in your throat at the sight of your red eyes and trembling lip. 

“frankie?” 

“Isabella.” he answers. “she uh, she called me.” 

part of you wanted to be mad. That elizabeth told her father that you needed help, that you were struggling. Another part wanted to be mad that she was using her phone at school which was a whole other conversation to be had

but you simply nodded and stepped to the side, savoring the way his hand grazed yours as he walked inside. 

he doesn’t mention that you haven’t taken the photos down of all three of you together, he simply opens the cupboard under the sink and gets to work. 

its the closest thing to domesticity he’s had since the divorce. the pair of you subconsciously slipping back into the little idiosyncrasies from years ago. 

you put a pot of coffee on as he grumbles and grunts under the sink, poorly disguising a laugh as a cough when he goes to sit up and smacks his head on the pipe. 

shuffling from underneath with a now red mark on his forehead as he points a scolding finger in your direction. “you are horrible.” but you hand him a warm cup of coffee and he forgives instantly. 

you sit in silence, shoulder to shoulder on the kitchen floor. 

the job is done. he could leave, go back home with a goodbye and ‘I’ll pick Isa up this friday.” before going back to his small apartment that would feel even smaller after having a taste of what home used to be with you. 

But he doesn’t. he sits in silence, savoring the way you foot sways back and forth on the tile floor until you finally speak. 

“I’m proud of you. You know that?” Your voice is tiny and frail and you tilt your head to look at him. 

My god he could just cry. 

“I’m really proud of you, Frankie. Me and Isabella both are. You know that, right?” 

Did you have any idea? what you were doing to him? 

the love of his life, the mother of his daughter and the reason he was still on this earth, staring at him with such emotion and love in your eyes he felt like a voyeur just for looking at you. 

He looks away, down at the chipped cup in his hands, one you got on a roadtrip when Isabella was only 2. 

Francisco doesn’t trust his voice to not fail him. So he only nods. 

You look up at the clock and curse. 

“what? what’s wrong?” 

you shoot up, feet sliding on the floor as you scurry forward. “Isa! I was supposed to pick her up from school ten minutes ago!” 

you grab your keys in a mad dash, barely sparing a glance over your shoulder to the man you married. 

“You wanna come with?” 

He stares at you, slack jawed and silent. 

“You would let me-” 

“of course. We can..get lunch. I think it’d be good for her, yeah?” 

Isabella doesn’t say anything when you pick her up from school. 

She was ready to snip that you were late, and its embarrassing to be picked up late, but then she noticed frankie sitting in the front seat and smiling at her. 

“Good day at school mija?” 

she doesn’t ask if this means you’re getting back together, or why you’re both picking her up or why his hand rests on the console, occasionally grazing your arm as you drive. 

“It was okay. Can we get Burger King? I’m hungry.” 

she just enjoys it. The little look she sees you give her father as she inSIST on ordering a strawberry milkshake despite the fact she never finishes them, and the way he holds out his hand behind the seat for her to give him fries and the way you laugh when he holds one up to your mouth at a stop light. 

she should clog the garbage disposal more often. 

[darthmaulification]

Your stories are so detailed! I love them! ❤️ May I request Darth Maul x pregnant reader smut, where Maul can't resist pregnant reader? or something exploring Maul's breeding kink trying to get them pregnant? 👉👈 that'd be so hot 🔥💦

A/N: ... this has been sitting in my drafts for like... two months. oopsie. took a while on this one. 😶 but, y’know, life happens. 🙏😔

anywho, this is the dirtiest, nastiest, most extensive smut i’ve ever written, like good GOD, what have i written??? 😳 i blame you, anon, your thot was too damn SCANDALOUS. 🥵😈 had me BLUSHING writing my own darn tootin’ fic!!! 😳😖🥴😩💦💦

also, i kinda subscribe to the fanon (?) that dathomirian zabrak give their son’s names that mean violent, aggressive things (hence maul, savage, feral) so that’s why maul’s and reader’s son has the name he has, despite the fact he’s a literal sweetheart.

i hope y’all EAT with this one! PLEASE enjoy! 💗

content: DISGUSTANG smut, unprotected p in v sex, fingering (f receiving), pregnant sex, afab!fem!reader, established relationship (married 🥺), very domestic at the beginning, reader and maul have a son!!, pregnant!reader, reader is implied to be curvier too, maul’s my breeding kink really shows here, his pregnancy kink too lmao, also some goddess play? (is that a thing lol?), maul is also very service top in this, this fic is nothing but love in all forms it comes in

word count: 4,136 (jesus christ)

If someone had told you when you were younger and immature, that you’d be chasing a naked toddler around your home, you would have laughed at the absurdity. But here you are, finally gaining on your smiling, giggling like a madman three-year-old son, a tiny little boy whose way too fast for his age, and with far too much of his father’s influence in him. Not to mention he’s dripping wet, covered sporadically head to toe in bubbles, and, again, naked as the day he was born.

“Get over here, strawberry!” You attempt to coax the russet-skinned toddler back to you, clutching a fluffy towel in your hands. Of course, the sight of the towel only riles him up even more— because Ravage had determined very early on that bath time also means playtime— so he shoots off in the opposite direction, as quick as he can on his short, chubby legs, which is surprisingly fast. You groan, throwing your head back in mild exasperation.

It doesn’t help in the slightest that you’re currently seven months pregnant, and the extra weight of your second does not aid in making you a fast runner. Quite the opposite, actually.

“Maker, this child.” You sigh, shaking your head and setting up chase Ravage again, but before you go after the screaming, laughing toddler, Maul chooses that exact, perfect moment to return home, in all his shirtless glory. The opening of the door makes Ravage skid to a halt, almost tipping over, and when he sees his father in the doorway, his gummy smile positively beams and brightens his whole face.

“Dada!” He shrieks, careening towards Maul who grins and swoops Ravage into his arms when he reaches him. Ravage squeals, little hands immediately finding Maul’s face before he presses his little forehead against Maul’s chin. He goes almost silent, soft coos leaving his lips. Your husband hums, nuzzling the top of your son’s head gently in return, one of his hands rubbing Ravage’s back. The sight never ceases to make your heart swell with joy, how Maul so deeply adores your child and how Ravage gives it back.

“Did he escape the bath again?” Maul asks after a brief moment of quiet, walking fully into the house and closing the door behind him. The motion, for some reason, kicks Ravage into gear again and he starts babbling away, sticking one of his tiny fists into his mouth while also trying to “talk”. Maul strides over to you, taking in your disheveled, flushed appearance.

“Not quite.” You snort a laugh and shake your head, eyes rolling as the accursed memory of The Bath Incident briefly crosses your mind. Maul grins and passes over Ravage, who’s still speaking gibberish, but has calmed down enough to allow you to wrap him up in the towel. You adjust him in your arms, situating him above your baby bump, smiling warmly when he rests his head against the crook of your neck.

“He had the decency to bolt after I had pulled him out of the tub.” You reply, placing a soft kiss on the smooth crown of his head, and Ravage sighs happily when you do. You rub the little nubs on his head, where his horns are still only cartilage beneath the skin, in the way that makes him sleepy.

“How considerate of him.” Maul replies, smoothing a hand over Ravage’s head before his eyes drop downwards and he grins boyishly. He places a gentle yet firm hand on the swell of your belly, rubbing over your dress. Something in his eyes changes, in his whole demeanor for that matter, like a primal part of him rears it’s head. Like a fire that has gasoline thrown on it, flaring in intensity and heat.

You’ve seen it happen many times before during this pregnancy and your previous, and know exactly what very pleasurable end it leads to. It’s no secret to you of how Maul feels when you’re with child. A shiver goes down your spine, straight to your core.

“And what of this one, my love?” He asks, his voice just a tad huskier, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. It’s purposely slow and meant to be inviting, which you pick up instantly. Your lips curl up into a small grin in the kiss, and you part to see a mischievous look on Maul’s face. His pupils are dilated, not a whole lot, but enough that it’s noticeable.

“Oh, he’s been just fine. Active, as usual.” You murmur, letting Maul place a heavy, more heated kiss on your lips almost before you’ve even finished your sentence. You sigh into his mouth, happily letting your beloved husband to lay claim via the frenzied tongue. He shifts closer against you, which Ravage objects to with an indignant cry, and Maul parts from you.

“No kissing!” Ravage smacks a tiny palm on his father’s face, his face all furrowed with that anger that a toddler thinks they’re supposed to feel. Maul growls playfully and bites (very gently, of course) Ravage’s hand, which causes the baby to shriek with laughter. You pull away from Maul, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. 

“Okay, okay, no getting him too riled up. Besides...” You send a glance over your shoulder, a coquettish smile on your lips. 

“We need him to sleep. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.” You wink and turn quickly enough so that Maul doesn’t have time to quip a reply, but slow enough that you see his eyes flash with lust. Almost giggling, you hastily make your way to Ravage’s bedroom to get him ready for bed and out of the way for the rest of the night.

~

Despite bath time being a special sort of chaos a majority of the time, Ravage is far more willing to go to sleep easily. You peck his forehead, then pepper his tiny horn nubs all over in kisses, and then nuzzle his scarlet cheeks. Ravage is half-asleep, but awake enough to rub his eyes and smile up at you. He purrs lightly, hands gripping your forearm.

“Good night, baby boy.” You coo softly, cupping his face with your hand, fingers tracing the swooping black tattoo on his crown. Of course, Ravage is not actually tattooed, he is far too young and his skin is much too sensitive. Instead, Ravage is decorated like his father by a highly pigmented dye that stains the skin until he’s old enough to get inked. You kiss him one last time, on his chin, where the stain nearest his lips is beginning to fade.

“I love you so much, my sweet.” You murmur, pulling away from your baby which is always hard, but feels like it’s so much harder with all the pregnancy hormones that you’re dealing with. Placing a hand on your belly, you carefully rise so that you don’t disturb Ravage who’s practically asleep. You’ve never been much of a nervous person, but you keep your eye on him the entire time you walk to the door, and then some. Maul waits for you, having observed the whole time.

“He’ll be there in the morning, my dear.” Maul’s low voice is teasing, but it’s also laced with a genuine comfort. You feel the need to bite your lip, apprehensive about tearing your eyes from Ravage, but Maul’s hands pulling you against him breaks the spell. You wrap your arms around him, relishing in the warmth that emits from him in waves. If motherhood had made you one thing, it was being overly wary.

“He’s so perfect... How is he three years old already?” You ask quietly, resting your head against Maul’s bare shoulder. Your eyes glance over to your son, who’s sleeping so peacefully and quietly you want the moment to last forever. He looks so warm and safe and happy... Words cannot describe how satisfying motherhood feels. It feels like Ravage was still a newborn yesterday.

“I wonder that myself...” Maul starts, “Though, my dear, you’ll have another baby in your arms soon enough.”

You giggle softly, letting Maul pull you in close to him, as far as you still can that is. He reaches past you to pull the bedroom door shut as his face leans in, lips locking with yours to kiss you fervently, deeply. You moan softly into his mouth as his warm, moving tongue claims you, and you wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss for a few moments longer before Maul pulls back, leaving you catching your breath.

“Have I told you how stunning you look?” He asks, voice lilting with a curious sort of brazenness, playfully searching for an answer. You hum, eyes heavy lidded, tracing with a single finger the sloping tattoo on Maul’s collar bone. He meets your gaze, molten gold eyes just as hazy as yours.

“Yes... though I may need to hear it again.” You murmur, brushing your lips against the softer skin of his cheek, practically purring with delight when Maul’s hand slips, and he grabs your ass. You giggle breathily when he squeezes, smiling still when his mouth is on yours again.

“You glow, my beautiful wife, especially when there is a babe ripe in your womb.” Maul almost hisses those last words, and you whimper when the feeling of his growing erection pokes against your thigh. The wetness between your legs seems to grow tenfold, you feel drenched with liquid warm slick. Maul kisses you again, his other hand going to palm the swell of your belly, and you tremble at the vibration his groan sends into your mouth.

“Fuck, if only I could keep you like this.” He growls lowly, hand cupping your belly, and he’s emboldened by his own words, kissing you forcefully. You whimper, hands gripping him as he rocks his body into yours, grinding you lightly against the closed door behind you.

“T-To the bedroom, please.” You sigh desperately, clinging to your husband, and he chuckles lowly, eagerly, and he secures his arm around your waist to pull you in the direction of your shared room. He keeps kissing you along the way, making your knees almost give out on you with each heated, passionate one. By the time the door’s been opened, you’re quivering so intensely with need that Maul takes it upon himself to lift you into his arms and walk you to the bed.

Thankful for his strength, you sigh happily when he places you down on the soft mattress, the relief in your lower back and feet almost as intoxicating as the arousal the bubbles inside you. Maul keeps himself at the end of the bed, where he watches you like a vulture, watches as you scoot back against the mountain of pillows that you have accumulated over the duration of your pregnancies.

“Please, my love, give me a show.” He speaks, eyes dilating further until his golden yellow hues are nearly eclipsed by the inky blacks of his pupils. Your face burns with a slightly embarrassed blush, because it sometimes still evades you as to why Maul is seemingly so captivated by your pregnant form, but you’re so needy and hot, that your dress simply needs to come off.

“Okay. For you.” You whisper, eyes not leaving Maul as you reach up to unclasp the button at the top of your dress, then the one below it, and the one after that. Maul watches as your cleavage becomes more and more revealed, then as your breasts simple spill from the confines of your bodice, too heavy for the loosening fabric. Then he watches as you reach around to your back to untie the ribbon that holds your skirt, watches as the fabric slacks on your swollen belly.

You grow more and more aroused as you watch Maul almost drool as you shimmy your hips to pull your dress from your body, moaning softly when his hips suddenly seize when the fabrics fall to reveal your baby bump, your newly outie belly button, and the darkened line below it. With one last shift of your hips, and kick of your dress falls from the bed, and leaves you bare to your bristling husband.

“You look like the Winged Goddess herself.” Maul finally growls, taking in the entire sight of you, flushed and sweaty and pregnant, sprawl like a queen on her throne of pillows. The compliment sends a shiver down your spine and you whimper from arousal. It wasn’t often, being this heavily pregnant, that you felt sexy, so irresistible. But from the way Maul’s honey gaze burns across your body, how he studies your swollen belly and heavy breasts with nothing but adoration and lust, you can only think this is what it feels like to be worshipped.

Maul doesn’t only tell you he thinks you look like a goddess, he makes you one.

And Maker, Maul is horny. He’s staring at you intensely, like a wild animal about to pounce yet contained by straining patience. His hips rut the air, like his cock is searching for the hot, wet, holy place you have to offer for it’s sanctuary. Maul’s shoulders rise with the steady heaves of his chest, nostrils flaring with each exhale. Rarely does he have this type of patience, but tonight you are his temple, and he’ll treat you with reverence.

“Come, then. Give your goddess tribute.” You coo, voice a tad shaky from need, spreading your meaty thighs deliciously wide as you open your arms to him. No sooner does the invitation leave your lips as Maul leaps onto the bed, stalking up to you on all fours, looking like a hungry wolf. His golden eyes drop from your face to your dripping, swollen pink pussy, and something absolutely ragged flashes in them.

“My Goddess, I am going to ravish you.” And Maul’s lips are on yours in a deeply passionate kiss that steals away all of you in it. His tongue pushes past your lips and he tastes like heaven, and you moan, eyes closing. Maul hastens the kiss almost frantically, sucking at your mouth like he’s drinking a nectar. All of your moans and gasps are swallowed by him, and Maul pulls more and more from you. You reach and grab his shoulders, gripping at the thick muscle of his neck, nails biting into his skin.

Maul finally pulls away, breaking the kiss with a loud, wet pop and his absence is agonizing. Panting, his eyes scan your face, soaking up your dazed expression, red cheeks, and raw lips. He grins and leans back in to kiss you again, brief and light this time, before he starts to leave kisses along your jaw, leading down your neck. You sigh happily when Maul sucks mark against your throat, hands roaming his sculpted shoulders and upper back.

“Maul...” You whine his name, one of your feet crossing over his calf, beckoning him closer. Maul allows you to reel him in, arching over you and anchoring himself with his arms. Just barely, feather-light, his toned stomach brushes against the crest of your encarpous middle, a reminder that he’s the one who put the baby there. Maul nuzzles your neck, his chuckling sending small vibrations into the soft skin.

“My love...” Maul murmurs, one hand raising to cup your breast as his lips travel lower, “My Goddess, you are perfection.”

He squeezes your tit, which causes you to cry out from the explosion of pleasure that ensues. Maul knows they’re tender, knows they’re overly sensitive, and he knows all of this as his fingers tweak your darkened nipple, reducing you to panting shrieks. He rolls your weighty breast in his hand and locks his lips around the nipple of the other, swirling his tongue around it. You squeal and arch your back, one hand holding Maul’s head against your chest to urge him to not stop.

“Maul, Maul!” You chant his name, almost weeping when his hand leaves your breast, flattening against your side to knead at the plush flesh of your hip. Maul hums, uses his knee to further spread your thighs, and dips his hand below to tease his finger tips around your soaked pussy. You whimper when he traces your pulsing slit, his knuckles brushing against the sensitive bud that sits at the apex of your womanhood.

“Mm... you are drenched, my Goddess.” He groans, pushing two of his fingers into you which has you tossing your head back, mouth agape. It’s all stars and fireworks, so quickly and easily thanks to your over-sensitivity due to pregnancy, and the way Maul curls his fingers just right has the coil in you tighten. Maul sucks at your nipple, rolls his fingers again inside you, and it only takes the pad of his thumb, which comes to swirl over your clit only once, that has you undone.

“Maul!~” You weep his name, shaking and stiffening all at once as your first orgasm ripples through you like aftershocks of an earthquake. It’s all so sudden that even Maul seems pleasantly surprised, unlatching from your breast to look down between your legs where his crimson hand glistens with your release. He pulls his fingers from you, marveling at the way your cunt clenches, more of your nectar oozing from it.

“A bit premature, hm?” He teases, kissing your breasts and collar as he gives you a few moments to recover from the world-shattering climax. You shake your head, panting, hairs stuck to your forehead by the sheen of sweat that coats your entire body. You feel so hot, overheated, and wanting him— needing his thick, ribbed cock and his heavy balls and all his virile cum within them.

“Please, my love, please.” You beg, hands smoothing over his shoulders, gliding to massage his biceps, pulling him closer. All you want is him, you need him, your pussy aches for him. And Maul delivers, seeing how you’re already half gone, and in one delicious, pleasing thrust of his hips, he sinks his hard cock into your wet heat.

You shriek and he groans loudly, the simultaneous sensations of your clenching, quivering vagina and his spear-like dick jumps the both of you very near your ends. Maul pulls back his hips to snap them forward, going lost in his wild eyes briefly, and repeats the motion, slow but hard. You hardly have the awareness to breathe, so lost as Maul hits the gummy nodes of your cervix with each rock of his hips, the ridges of his cock dragging against the velvety walls of your cunt.

“F-Fa—Faster.” Drool escapes the corner of your lips with the weakly uttered plea you barely manage to convey. He obliges, just as lost as you, and his hips pull back to slam in quickly, repeating over and over, jostling your body with purpose and force. It feels like it knocks the wind from you, and you hold onto Maul like he’s your lifeline, weeping moans against his neck. His head dips against the crook of your shoulder, mindful of his horns, and he pants against your flushed skin.

“Love seeing you pregnant.” Maul grunts, lips worrying a dark mark into your neck that he seals with a small nip. You keen, hips unconsciously tilting more so his cock continues to hit that place just right, that you can take him even deeper. That tender place makes you see stars, the pleasure electrifying you to your bones, making you curl your toes into the sheets. Your pussy clenches, and Maul groans, thrusting with conviction like a bull in rut. The sound of his hips snapping wetly against yours filling the air, each thrust makes your thighs and hips jiggle.

“Wan—ugh, Want to keep you fat with child.” Scarlet and charcoal hands run up the hill of your belly to cup your breasts from below. Maul squeezes them, beckoning beads of milk to form at your nipples, and you cry out, moaning wantonly and uninhibited by now. Your eyes squeeze shut as the coil grows taut in your core once more, tighter and tighter with each snap of his hips. Maul growls out some incomprehensible sentence, snarling into your neck, where he bites again, then kisses and licks.

“S-So beautiful... tits full of milk... c-crowded, stuffed belly.” It’s all choked out in between grunts that get louder and louder until Maul is a mess of heaving groans. Your airy moans clash in the air with his snarling, Maul bites at your neck, your shoulder, lightly gnawing on you like he’s desperate for your taste. He thrusts into you like a jackhammer, bouncing you on his cock and rocking your entire body.

You mind goes blank, and the knot inside you snaps, sending you into the oblivion of a small death that shakes you to your core. It leaves you wide-eyed and moth hanging open, your puffy entrance spilling your wet release all over your inner thighs, the bed, and soaking Maul’s cock that still pulls in and out of you.

The rhythmic rocking of your body could have lulled you asleep, had it not been the soaring pleasure of your orgasm keeping you awake. It fades steadily, allowing the cloud that has blinded your mind dissipate as you regain consciousness, eyelids fluttering as you bask in the tingling of your climax, the wetness between your legs and under your butt, and Maul’s sturdy, warm flesh.

It’s all so much, so perfect, so wonderfully passionate.

He moans when your cunt grips him like a vice as he fucks you through your orgasm, pulling his head from your shoulder to lay wet kisses on your panting lips and tear-streaked face. You hadn’t even realized you’d actually cried from the pleasure until Maul dutifully laps away any remaining tears before he kisses down your neck to lick away the milk that’s leaked from your breasts as well, making you sigh.

His pace slows, hips stuttering once, then twice, and he too finishes with a loud groan, pelvis flush against yours as he spills thick, sticky ropes of cum directly to your womb. The feeling of the spreading warmth pulls you further back to reality, grounding you with it’s primal, natural familiarity. You hum, rubbing Maul’s tense back with your hands as he stays locked to you for a good thirty seconds, just letting him spill everything he has into you.

Near the end, he says your name like a desperate prayer, all choked, all wretched from his throat. And he says it again once his cock’s finished, the last few spurts of cum leaving him, and this time it is said with nothing but satisfaction, content, and love. He kisses your breasts a few more times, his hands rubbing your hips, before he lifts his eyes to meet yours.

“I love you.” Maul says, his eyes as bright and as serious as the sun, and you smile broadly, if not a bit loopy and sleepy too. You cup his cheek, thumb resting on the curved line of the tattoo on his cheekbone. One of Maul’s hands go to tuck your sweaty hair behind your ear, the other plants itself firmly beside you so that Maul can anchor himself above you. His softening cock rests nestled inside you, he arches over you like a protective ceiling of red and black loving flesh and blood, and he kisses you like your the personification of all that is good and holy.

“I love you.” He says again, and it makes your heart sing. The air around you and Maul buzzes with the dewy afterglow of sex, feeling as though it lights your dimly lit bedroom a brighter, gentle orange. Maul sighs deeply into the kiss and pulls out from you, and you sigh when you feel his release steadily seep from you like glistening honey off the comb. He still kisses you as he moves from atop you to your side, haphazardly grabbing a blanket to pull over you both.

As you both kiss and situate yourselves into bed, spent and exhausted, you don’t mind that tonight he doesn’t leave to get cloth to clean you up, or that you’re falling asleep sticky and wet, and that tomorrow you’ll have to clean the sheets and probably the mattress too. No, tonight you only think of Maul, soak in all of the love and adoration you feel come from him, and reciprocate it when he pulls you to him, spooning you from behind, wrapped securely by his strong arms.

“I love you, too.” You whisper to Maul in the darkness, eyes closed, your fingers searching to lace with his, both of your hands then resting atop the baby that grows inside you. He hums, kisses the back of your neck, and you fall asleep feeling happy, tranquil, and loved.

[becca-e-barnes]

Hi Becca, how's your week going?

I have a little idea: how about reader dating Steve and bucky being in love with her in secret. He is desperate for her and can't help himself but he knows it's wrong.

I wanna see how crazy he is about reader, like I imagine him wishing to be Steve every time reader whispers something dirty in Steve's ear and they leave imediately because he can't keep his hands off of her. And how he wishes to be Steve when they have sex and he hears her moaning and how he can't take it anymore and he is so obvious.

Maybe Steve knows and reader knows, so they decide to tease Bucky and then invite him to join them.

Thank you in advance ❤

Oh my god, I’m so obsessed with this, you have no idea!! I really want to write a full fic for this but in the meantime, I need to get some thots out

Because imagine Steve low-key kind of encouraging it, he knows how bad Bucky wants his girl and he loves knowing that you’re his, even though he absolutely wouldn’t mind sharing you with Bucky.

So maybe Bucky and Steve are just chilling together one evening, you’re not around and Bucky asks Steve how you’re doing. It’s not unusual, you’re all friends after all. But Steve just sees his chance and he can’t even help himself.

“God Buck, honestly? She’s so fucking horny all the damn time. I love it but I don’t even think I can satisfy her these days. No idea what’s gotten into her. Not that I’m complaining but I wanna make sure she’s getting what she needs and I just don’t think I can do that on my own right now. I’m not around enough.” Steve’s definitely over exaggerating but Bucky looks like he’s about to burst at the thought of you needing more dick than Steve can offer you. His pants are so tight, blood rushing to his dick so fast it makes him dizzy

“D-doesn’t that bother you? Knowing your girl might be needing more than you can offer her?” Bucky quizzes, slightly timid despite the twitching of his cock when he thinks about how you’ve probably had to take care of yourself when Steve isn’t around

“Not at all Buck. I just wanna see my girl happy and satisfied. It’s actually kind of hot knowing she can’t get enough.”

And then when you get back, you almost immediately drag Steve away and of course, Bucky knows why. You and Steve fuck for hours that night, pressed up against the wall that separates Bucky’s room from Steve’s. It’s loud and messy and endless, with Steve encouraging you to stop holding back every now and again “come on baby, we both know Bucky’s listening. Give him somethin’ sweet to stroke his cock to. Bet he’s touching himself thinkin’ about you. Wishes he could be buried so deep in my girl. How about we let him join, Hm? Just know he’d love the chance to fuck you. Got him so worked up earlier.”

And you instantly cave “Steve baby… Can we please… Can we go get him? Want both of you tonight Stevie.” He gives you anything you want when you plead like that so of course it doesn’t take him long to pull out of you, reaching for his sweats and a T-shirt, not even bothering with underwear as he heads to Bucky’s door.

It wouldn’t take long for Steve to return, Bucky following in sheepishly behind him but when Bucky’s eyes land on you, naked on the bed, three of your own little fingers stuffed inside yourself, the groan he lets out makes Steve think his best friend just came in his pants

“Go ahead Buck, touch her.” Steve encourages softly and Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice, he’s just not sure where to start. But thankfully, Bucky has two hands. The metal one reaches up, pinching your nipples, rolling one firm bud between his cold fingers and then switching to the other while his flesh hand replaces yours between your legs. The kiss he gives you is ferocious, every last ounce of need he’s ever felt is poured into it and it only makes you hornier.

Steve is more than happy to just watch in the meantime, getting undressed and stroking his cock while he’s still wet with your slick, loving the sight of his best friend making his girl such a quivering mess. Until he gets a chance to join in 😩

[thefanficmonster]

Rumors

Corpse Husband x Bimbo!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of Slut Shaming, Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Tiniest bit of Angst, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When some rumors start floating around, every content creator does their best to either ignore them or defuse the situation. However, sometimes, the fans attempt to do the defusing themselves which only leads to a worse disaster. That’s the case for Corpse whose fans were quick to jump to his protection of some ‘false’ rumors.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request, it was a joy to write. I’m sorry for how long it has taken me to complete and post the fic but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy reading it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it! Love, Vy ❤

Corpse cracks his knuckles, then his shoulders, then his collarbone, then the his neck. He clenches his jaw as he breathes steadily and rhythmically, trying to control an overwhelming wave of anger that he has never felt before. This is a situation he’s never had to deal with nor did he ever think he’d have to deal with and address on a fucking livestream on top of all, but here he is now, doing his best to count to ten and not go on a Twitter responding spree, calling people out on their bullshit. He wanted to do so, he still wants to, but he was stopped in his intentions and brought to a calm mindset where he was swayed into dealing with this the civil way and not by roasting the fuck out of any and every foul-mouthed person he’s seen on his Twitter timeline.

He can’t really guarantee and civility during the stream either, he’s aware his tolerance is as thin as a stretched out, old rubber band and is a slight tug away from snapping and allowing him to unleash hell on these people because of who he’s been seeing red these past few days. 

Let’s not risk a misunderstanding here - Corpse absolutely loves and adores his fans, but seeing this behavior from them is quite upsetting and disappointing. When he uses the terms like ‘assholes’, ‘jerks’ and ‘rude motherfuckers’ he isn’t referring to them. He knows they are good people, but are using the completely wrong tactic of defending him, not to mention he doesn’t even need defending. Even if he did, he’s more than capable of doing it on his own and not getting other people involved.

“Hello everyone, hope you’re doing well.“ He finally settles on saying, officially kicking off the stream. If there’s any indicator of the serious nature of this stream, it’s probably the lack of lo-fi and the lack of even attempted playfulness and cheeriness in his voice. That’s how you know shit isn’t to be messed around about. “I just realized I didn’t specify what I’ll be doing in the Tweet, but I’ll tell you now, so those who aren’t interested in the subject or want to steer clear of the drama can leave. However, I wouldn’t advise clicking off considering this will be an overall, how do I say this, rant, of sorts? It’s meant to knock some sense in the people who have been spreading hate for a specific person on all social media platforms she’s active on.“

The majority of the viewers are already familiar with the subject, some even guilty of spreading the hate Corpse mentioned, but there are a few that are completely clueless - the ones actually not interested in online drama, not just saying they ‘hate drama’. With those people in mind, Corpse takes to addressing the issue from its very beginning.

“So, for a month now, me and this streamer, who’s also a TikTok star, by the name of Y/N have been interacting a lot on social media. She’s an incredibly sweet girl that a lot of people have prejudice towards. She’s very misjudged and misunderstood because people see he solely as her content, if that makes sense. They only know she’s that streamer who wears revealing clothes on her streams and posts risqué pictures on her Instagram. Like, no.“ Corpse cannot even fully believe he has to address this and that slut-shaming people is still a thing in the twenty-first century. He closes his eyes for a moment, fist tightening and his knuckles turning white, “I don’t understand how so many people can be so shallow and just plain jerks towards her in general, but then again - this is especially for my fans, the members of my fandom - I don’t understand the need you guys feel to put Y/N down to defend me from some ridiculous rumors as if it’s the first time I’ve had to deal with people talking shit for attention or to get someone canceled.“ He sighs, reminding himself to slow his roll as to not confuse any viewers who still don’t know the full story, “Anyway, back to the timeline of events. So, considering we’ve never interacted before, all the replying to comments, retweeting, liking posts and whatever sparked some dating rumors. Isn’t that just fucking hilarious - you see two people interacting on social media and the first thing that comes to mind is that they’re in a romantic relationship. Where did the friendship go? Does no one value or consider friendships to be a valid type of human relation anymore?“ He runs a hand through his hair, making another pause to clear his mind and prevent his frustration from overflowing. He promised he wouldn’t lose his cool and would remain calm and collected, but the more he talks about it the tighter he clenches his fist and the faster his heartrate is. His neck and ears are red from the tension he feels all over, almost like he’s physically restraining a raging wild animal and not just his own thoughts and emotions.

There’s layers to his anger, the lower ones - aka the ones he’s yet to get to - will be a nightmarish test of his self-control, he already knows it. Judging by how much of a toll this rant has already taken on him, his patience and control growing thinner and thinner, he’s not sure how he’ll power through the last layers without his voice raising awfully high in volume and his fists searching for some object to punch. To an ignorant eye, his reaction would seem exaggerated and overboard, but little does that ignorant eye know...

“When some of my fans saw those rumors, they reacted very badly. It was quite disappointing to see. Guys, I appreciate you standing up for me even though you shouldn’t do that - I can defend myself, not that this was a matter I needed defending from to begin with. But just the way some of you went about it was horrifically wrong and quite upsetting, to me but especially to Y/N herself.“ He can feel it, the aggravation growing, bubbling up in his chest, “What I saw disgusted me, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. The things some of you were saying...I couldn’t believe you are in fact the same people who are my fans, my lovely fans who I’ve always thought so highly of. Never did I think you could be able of slut-shaming so vulgarly and grossly, I couldn’t believe what I was reading.“

He has every right to be upset - the things being said about Y/N were truly awful and a lot of things being said were meant to defend Corpse and defuse the rumors, doing so while stomping all over Y/N and her content. Rightfully so, many of her fans were outraged and quick to jump to her defense but were unfortunately outnumbered, leading Corpse to believe not many of her fans are actually real or as dedicated as his which only fueled his fury further.

Anyway, let’s take a look at Y/N’s point of view. Being a content creator for as long as she has, refusing to change her style no matter how many people disagreed and insulted her about it, she’s grown quite used to people spitting insults at her on every social media possible. It’s sad how throughout the majority of her content creating career she’s only had haters, creeps and fake fans watching her videos and streams. Rare are those in her fandom who’d actually stick up for her and defend her in ‘scandals’ such as this one. However, no amount of experience with dealing with hate could have prepared her for this outpour of some of the meanest shit she’s ever heard and been called in her life.

Y/N likes the content she makes, she’s comfortable in her skin and loves her body. She loves showing it off too and nor she nor anyone who wants that deserves to be shamed for who they are and what they do, especially when they aren’t hurting anyone and their content is still appropriate. People have always bashed her for all elements of who she is: her appearance, her clothing style, her streams, her gaming skills, her voice on occasion. She can count the instances when she’s received positive feedback on the fingers of her hands which would depress anyone else but not her. She’s always created content for her own amusement and entertainment so people’s opinions never really bothered her. Until now, until this very drama that has hit a specific nerve, an insecurity of hers she’s never talked about. The comments such as:

(Vy Speaking: Comments containing slut-shaming ahead, go to ### if you want to skip)

“Corpse would never date a slut like her“

“Corpse dating this thot? Please internet stop being ridiculous“

“Corpse ain’t a pimp, y’all need to chill“

“Even if they datin they gon break up soon - whore stays a whore“

###

bothered her far more than she’d like to admit. She has no one to open up about it either, she knows what she’ll get in response if she does - she’ll be told it’s her fault. Her fault because of the way she dresses, the way she talks and acts, because she chose this career to begin with. All her fault. The only person she can turn to she refuses to because she doesn’t want to be a bother - not after so many people confirmed her worries that she’s not good enough for him already anyway, the least she can do is avoid bothering him the best she can.

And that is exactly why this has upset Corpse so much.

“Here’s a little message specifically meant for those who claimed I’d never date someone like Y/N or specifically Y/N. You better listen carefully: Don’t you ever, and I mean EVER slut-shame my girlfriend or any other person ever. I cannot believe I have to explicitly remind you that your behavior isn’t ok. You should fucking know that your behavior isn’t right and that you’re a massive piece of shit for saying those awful things about others you judge solely on appearance and clothing. Does it surprise you that I am, in fact, dating Y/N? If you say yes for the reason you think she’s not good enough for me or that I deserve better, please get the fuck out of my fandom. No one disrespects my girl and gets away with it. That’s final!“

Though still under the influence of a flurry of negative emotions, overhearing Corpse literally telling people to exclude themselves from his fandom for being mean to her, Y/N’s taking a step towards emotional recovery knowing her boyfriend will always have her back. He’ll always be there to prove people wrong, defend her and stand by her. He’ll be there to catch her when the hate knocks her off her feet.

But most importantly: he’ll never ask her to change. Not her style, not her clothes, not her personality, nothing. He fell for her the way she is and for who she is, and he will never allow anyone to try to change her either. For someone who’s never had much support all her life, a single speck of support overpowers all the hate within the blink of an eye. Corpse will always be her knight in shining armor, the knight who defeated all the hateful demons by just entering her life. And though she’s still struggling with the ‘Am I good enough for someone so wonderful?’ and ‘He deserves better, doesn’t he?’ questions, with his hand holding hers, she’ll never let those doubts and insecurities overpower her.

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[janghoefett]

First off, welcome back from your break! Second, Din = breeding kink is galaxy brain stuff. The man has “dad” written on his soul/in his DNA. Do you have any head canons/fic ideas around that? (feel free to skip/ignore, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask about this lately and decided to send it once I’d figured out a vaguely non thirsty way to put it.)

Hello! I have had a loose idea for a one-shot involving the classic Riduurok and the night that follows. It will probably be a while until I actually materialize it, but yeah... we’re gonna go there 😤 I’ve missed writing for Din lately.

Anyways, let’s talk about it. This post is 18+ of course.

So the breeding kink is pretty much a staple of the collective headcanon, but it’s funny because I always see it written as, “Din has a breeding kink because he’s Mandalorian and all Mandalorians have one.” Nah man. That’s not how it works. And I don’t see where that’s coming from based on the Mandalorians who have had significant screen time in any series. Of course they do have a culture of raising children, yes, but I do not get actual feral horny breeding kink vibes from any Mandalorian other than Din (and Jango, but that’s a discussion for another time).

Din is his own thing. He has a particular brand of fatherhood that’s super intimate and warm, and he wants something different for his kids than what he had (which a lot of parents can’t say). He wants that domestic life and you’re the first time he actually sees that happening. 

And he’s going to be really into makin’ babies.

Couple of thots:

I think he loves anything soft. Skin-to-skin contact makes him weak and there’s probably a period of time at the beginning of the relationship where he can’t get enough of just touching you, even in innocent ways. He loves the softer parts of you, from your ass to your breasts. That’s when the wheels start turning for him... he got that breeding kink bad.

Din still carries around memories of his mother and father. When he sees you with Grogu, it’s something familiar and he wants more.

The first time slips inside you he almost Busts (tm) immediately. If he’s had encounters before, they certainly hadn’t been intimate like this. So he sees you looking up at him and you just feel so good... you can physically feel him lose his breath and twitch inside you.

He’s definitely thinking about it before he tells you, even if you’re using protection. He’s imagining his seed will take, he’s thinking about marking you as his and watching you grow his child.

When you decide you’re going to make it happen, Din wants to take. his. time. And make it special. If that means bringing you to some beautiful secluded place, that’s what he’s going to do. It’s almost ritualistic.

He does anything to make you comfortable. Lots of rubbing, words of reassurance, checking in, hot baths after he leaves you pleasantly sore. Din might be the most thoughtful partner ever.

His hands never stop roaming your body and he’s obsessed with your tits. His lips are always planting kisses there and his strong hands massage them so well. He can’t wait to see them swollen.

“Gonna give me a little warrior, sweet girl?” he groans between thrusts. “Always feel so good around my cock.”

Din’s favorite sight to see: you, ass up, on your elbows, totally fucked out with his cum leaking out of you.

When you do actually become pregnant, he can’t stop telling you how beautiful you look carrying his child. Din becomes protective, more so than usual if that’s possible, and he makes you feel so safe and taken care of. And of course, you don’t stop, er, practicing.

[thosewickedlovelies]

AND THEY WERE WALLMATES: Pasteles de Gloria (part 3)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: T for mature themes (mentions of sex and violence)

Summary: Javier thanks you...appropriately, this time. Connie and Javier have a chat <3

Tags: Mention of blood. Reader starts to have Thots (same, girl)

Word count: 3,740

A/N: So their POVs in this chapter overlap a little bit...sorry if that throws anyone off, I’m still getting used to writing reader insert fics. The dessert and the Spanish are explained at the end :) Enjoy!

Masterlist

--

You hadn’t seen Javier in over a week. The first few days after that conversation had been a whirlwind of emotions- worry over whether you’d said the right things, hope that he might feel the same (plus fear that he wouldn’t), and eventually anger at his total lack of response. Until Connie told you that he and Steve had been sent on some mission.

“Nothing dangerous, but they’ll be gone for a few days. Javi must not have gotten the chance to say goodbye.” Uttered without a second’s hesitation, like it was unthinkable that Javier wouldn’t have explained himself to you if he could.

Maybe Connie knew something you didn’t.

So another several days had passed, with worry becoming the dominant theme; all your other initial feelings faded into the background as you wondered how ‘not dangerous’ DEA work could really be.

You’re settling in for another restless evening when there’s a rap on the door. Your nerves leap and jangle- you aren’t supposed to being seeing Connie again until tomorrow, so who…?

You peer through the cracked door before wrenching it open the rest of the way, your heart roaring in your ears. Javier Peña stands before you. He holds a bottle in one hand and a paper bag in the other, and looks uncharacteristically nervous. You forget you’re theoretically supposed to be upset with him as you stare at each other, wide-eyed.

He clears his throat. “Hey. Uh, sorry I disappeared on you. Boss sent me and Steve on a mission, I had to leave from work.” So Connie had been right on both accounts. He hadn’t had time to call you, and he would have if he could.

When you wait, he continues. “I thought, since I interrupted your evening the last time I was here, I could make it up to you.” He holds up the bottle, which you’re surprised to recall is indeed the same wine that you had opened the night he came to your place after reopening his wound.

You look at him in wonder, but he’s not finished. “Also, well...I can’t bake for shit, but I know somewhere that can. You ever had a pastel de gloria?”  He lifts the paper bag, cracks a small, still-nervous grin.

“I haven’t,” you confirm, an answering smile growing on your face, touched by the sweetness of his gesture and the implications it holds.

“Well, you can try them tonight, because-” his confidence apparently bolstered by your response, he holds the bottle out to you, brow quirking in request. You take it, bemused at the prospect of there still being more to his plan, and he digs something out of his back pocket with an air of presentation. “-I found the sequel to a certain movie while at a market recently. I was going to bring it to Steve and Connie’s but...now seemed like a better time to watch it.”

You almost laugh out loud as you take in the cover of the tape in his hand. It’s the sequel to that movie night travesty, all right. That Javier would do all of this...you hardly know what to say.

You hope whatever expression is on your face is saying it for you, though, as you look up at him. “Thank you, Javier. This is...amazing.” And it is, much more so than would have been necessary to thank you for helping with his leg, or to make up for his unplanned disappearance after you turned down his proposition.

He chuckles, looking down in embarrassment. “You don’t actually have to watch this shit movie if you don’t want to. That part was just a joke.” You could swear he’s blushing, the faintest tinge of color in his cheeks beneath the white hallway lights. “But you should try these pastries, because they are something else.” He offers you the bag, his body shifting sideways slightly, as if he intends to hand off his gifts and then disappear. As if his wide, guileless, puppy dog eyes and the unconscious pout to his lips weren’t begging otherwise.

Well. “Of course I want to watch this shit movie, Javi. As long as you watch it with me.” You give him a teasing grin. “It was much more fun with a spoilsport.”

Relief spills over his features, washing the tension from his shoulders and the breath from his lungs. Turning away toward the kitchen, you miss the true extent of it, leaving the door open for him as you head back inside. “Bring those to the couch, I’ll get us some plates,” you call over your shoulder.

Javier follows more slowly, collecting himself. By the time you join him in the living room, carrying, plates, wine glasses, and napkins, he’s fiddling with your VCR. You pour the wine while he sets it up, although you find yourself distracted by the shifting valleys of muscle in his back beneath his tight-fitting shirt, the bottle in your hands suspended uselessly above a glass. You curse as you almost spill.

“Everything okay?” Javi joins you on the couch, a careful, hesitant distance away.

“Of course!” You’re quick to assure him. “Now, tell me about these pastries,” you urge, eyes sparkling. He unloads them onto a plate, stacking rounded pastries into a rough pyramid, each one golden brown, sprinkled with sugar, and the size of a small fist. His voice softens as he tells you about the bakery and the older woman who runs it, who insists everyone call her ‘abuela’, even grown men and gringos like him. How he discovered it entirely by accident one day, following his nose.

“The filling is usually pasta de guayaba- guava paste- but they can also have arequipe, or cheese, or all three. She gave me a some extras, so I’m not sure which ones are which here,” he says, suddenly brusque. He gestures for you to take one first, a look on his face you can’t quite identify.

You’re definitely at risk of drooling as you pick up a pastel, Javier watching you intently. Puff pastry flakes over your plate as you take a bite.

And close your eyes in relish. A trio of flavors oozes over your tongue, each complementing the other, all of them ensconced in a sheath of sugary, flakey pastry. The creamy, neutral tang of the cheese mellowing the tart-sweet burst of fruity guava, both flavors coated in the thick, sticky-sweet burnt sugar taste of dulce de leche.

Swallowing, your eyes pop wide to look at Javier again. It’s a near-physical reaction he has to your sudden attention, an almost-flinch away from it as he awaits your verdict.

“Javier.” Your voice is serious. With slow deliberance, you lean toward him intently, reaching out to rest your hand on his forearm. You let the anticipation s t r e t c h.

“You have got to tell me how to make these.”

The breath leaves him in a rush, a huff of relief and and laughter at your dramatics. He’s hyper-aware of your hand on his skin- the casual touch reverberates through him in a way he should probably be more concerned about. It’s the first time you’ve touched him for non-medical reasons, but it heals him all the same; he feels warm, something inside him yielding in your presence.

He clears his throat. “Like I said, I can’t bake for shit. But...I can ask the abuela.” His free hand rubs at his neck, slipping beneath the collar of his shirt. The movement draws your attention, and your gaze continues lower, to the two buttons he seems to perpetually leave undone. The smooth, flushed skin beneath. Was it warm in here?

You stand abruptly. “Is it warm in here? I’ll flip the fan on. You want to press play?” You throw him a quick smile as you cross the room to the wall switch. You flip off the overhead light while you’re there, leaving just the tall floor lamp casting a bright but cozy glow.

Javi obliges, the space dimming briefly as the opening sequence begins. You plop back down on the sofa, deliberately settling slightly closer to him- friends distance away. Handing him a wine glass, you raise yours expectantly. “¡Salud!” you beam.

Despite your cheer, you feel a trickle of nervous anticipation. What shape would your relationship take with only the two of you to guide it? You’d never been alone alone together for the express purpose of just hanging out.

Javier clinks his glass with yours. “Salud,” he murmurs, his eyes crinkling upward slightly.

You order yourself to stop getting in your head. Humming around a mouthful of plum-purple wine, you set down the glass in favor of your plate, loading it with several more pastels. Blissful satisfaction fills you as a second bite confirms their perfection, and you lick sugar off your lips with a happy sigh. Beside you, Javi’s empty fingers twitch. He takes a large gulp of wine.

The movie rapidly proves to be of the same ‘quality’ as its parent. Just as quickly, you realize you didn’t need to worry about getting on with Javier. You end up having great fun at the film’s expense, frequently pausing it so Javi can explain in more detail why this or that would never happen in real life. It’s fascinating hearing him speak with such confidence, observing the minute ripples of his face as it contorts in thought. Despite his superior knowledge, he’s never condescending toward you, listening patiently to your questions and trying to answer in ways you can relate to. He sneers freely at the characters onscreen though, and you can completely picture him sitting at a one of those government conference tables, telling some poor bastard how bad his ideas are with his trademark dismissive, deadpan attitude.

There are other fascinating things about him, too. Like the way his short shirtsleeves to stretch over his arm muscles, subtle but visible, highlighted by the room’s long shadows. Like the tempting cords of his neck when he tips his head back to drink. Like more of his self-conscious glances, when he bites into a pastel and crumbs and sugar cling to his mustache. He hurriedly swipes his palm down the hairs, but you’ve caught him from the corner of your eye. You press your lips together to smother a giggle, but when he glides his tongue over his lip to catch any stray bits, your smile fades as your stomach swoops. You can sense him regarding you again as you fix your gaze on the tv. You wish you knew what was going on in his head.

Too soon the movie ends. The credits roll, but Javier shows no signs of leaving, leisurely taking out a pack of cigarettes and tapping it against his hand. “Do you mind?” he checks.

You wrinkle your nose but allow it. “As long as you do it at the window.” You stand, leaving Javi still seated, and spread your arms in a stretch, attempting to blink away some of the sleepy wine haze. “Be right back,” you tell him, taking the opportunity for a bathroom break.

After, however, before crossing the kitchen to rejoin him, you pause on the threshold of the hall. Your head tilts as you run your gaze over his unguarded stature. Javier leans against the window’s edge, his head and torso turned to exhale smoke out into the night. It doesn’t all escape immediately, gray twisting in the air around his profile, and you lose yourself in the brooding picture he paints. He believes he’s alone, but doesn’t look like he’s enjoying a peaceful smoke break- more like he’s weighed down by his thoughts, his eyes sweeping over the street without taking it in. Doesn’t he have anyone to share his burdens with?

You shuffle your feet loudly before you turn the corner, revealing your presence so he can react accordingly. As you approach, he stubs out his cigarette on the narrow sill and turns to face you, his shoulders relaxing.

“I thought of something else about that last scene,” he greets, and you’re happy to let him go on about the film, savoring the rich timbre of his voice. You talk for a little while longer, lounging by the window. He asks you more about yourself now, and you haltingly tell him about your background, how you came to arrive in Columbia. He drinks in every word, and you get the feeling he’s storing this all away, ready to reference later. As if he intends for there to be a later.

Finally it comes up. Your last interaction. “Look, I’m sorry about last time,” Javier begins. “When I, you know-” he nods jerkily in lieu of saying “tried to seduce you” out loud. “I, uh. I don’t know what I was thinking.” His gaze drops the same way it did when he was withholding how he got the cut on his leg.

You thought you had understood some of his thought process, but maybe there was more to it. “I think you do,” you disagree wryly. One shoulder lifts in a shrug. “But it’s okay, Javier. I just...didn’t want you to sleep with me just because you felt like you owed me.”

It’s a struggle to hold his gaze, yours ranging over his face and chest, searching for a reaction to what you’ve left unspoken. That you may well want him to sleep with you, but only because he actually wants to, wants you, specifically. Javier is smart, and clearly experienced with women- there’s no way he’ll miss the implication.

The longer you hold his gaze, the more clearly you see his thoughts churning, turning over everything that’s occurred between you and what it might mean, with all the analytical precision his career requires. That’s who you’ve been seeing, you realize, every time his provocative persona misses its mark with you- Agent Peña, the man who puts up a shield of derisive disdain so no one gets too close, so no one wants to. Until someone comes along who says fuck that, for whatever reasons of their own- like Steve, who demanded that Javi let him in as much as he could stand to because they’re partners, damn it, for better or for worse. Like Connie, who informed him that your well-being is important to my husband’s, so by god, you’re going to let me care about you. Like you- his neighbor and wallmate who, despite being faced with Agent Peña's rakish side, could see that there was more under the surface than just blood oozing from a knife wound.

As if realizing the window this moment is giving you, Javier shakes himself free of it, pushing off the wall. “Well, I won’t keep you up any longer,” he says gruffly. “Thanks for...this.” He gestures to the coffee table behind the couch you’re leaning on, the silent tv static jittering on the wine and pastries.

You stand too, unhurried. “Thank you, Javier. For the company, as well,” you say with sincerity.

He nods, seeming torn, perpetually caught in some internal struggle around you. Finally, he says a single word in farewell, his voice a low caress: “Vecinita.”

He starts for the door without waiting for a reply. Blinking in surprise, you spin in place. “Buenas noches, Javi,” you call, hoping your understanding reaches him.

You think it does, because he pauses for a second with his hand on the doorknob; before, with a last glance, exiting, leaving the hope kindling in your chest as the only proof it really happened.

--

Javier has a hard time focusing at work the next day. He and Steve have a lot of paperwork to get through, mostly material from their recent mission, but every time he shifts in his shitty desk chair he remembers how comfortable your couch was. How at ease you seemed sitting next to him on it. How badly he wanted to reach out to you, see if you felt as soft as you looked in that setting.

“Fuck,” he swears. The paper in his hand is the same one he’s been staring at for the past ten minutes.

Huffing, he shoves his work aside, snatches up his jacket, and heads home early. But his apartment offers even fewer distractions, so with a growl of frustration, he downs a whiskey and stalks back to the door.

Only to be stopped in his tracks by Connie, standing on his stoop with a coffee pot in hand. She looks startled by his sudden appearance, her fist still raised to knock.

“Hi, Javi. I heard you get back a little while ago, and I haven’t seen you since you and Steve returned. I thought we could catch up.” She speaks tentatively, clearly wary of his black scowl and riled energy.

“Did she send you?” he asks, eyes narrowing, jutting his chin to indicate your door.

Connie frowns in confusion. “No, I won’t be seeing her for a a day or three. She’s got an intensive-care patient at the hospital who needs around-the-clock attention.” Her own eyes narrow. “Should she have sent me? Did you do something?”

“No,” Javier retorts curtly. “Just- didn’t know if this was brought on by some of your gossip, is all.” Resigned to his interrogation, he steps back, opening the door for her.

Connie continues to glare suspiciously as she passes, but heads into his kitchen nonetheless, getting out sugar and mugs in a familiar ritual. She knew better than to bother checking the fridge for milk.

Once seated in the dining room, however, she doesn’t pry any further about you, or what he may have done, only continuing a previous line of conversation from their last chat. It helps, but as she gets caught up telling some work story, Javier’s attention drifts again.

He inhales from the cigarette between his fingers, remembering the taste of the one last night, filtering through the flavors of cherry-dark wine and sugar-encrusted pastry. He had tried to keep some figurative distance between the two of you, but you didn’t seem to want it, closing the gaps with questions, always looking so damn interested when the answers pertained to him or his life. Were you that fascinated by all your ‘friends’?

Javi doesn’t notice that Connie is scrutinizing him again, just like he hadn’t noticed that she’s been silent for the past minute.

“What’s she doing up there?” Connie asks loudly.

Javier chokes mid-drag, and a wicked smirk overtakes her face.

“What,” he croaks, trying desperately not to look guilty.

“Your neighbor,” Connie clarifies. “That’s what you’re thinking about, right?” She looks far too smug with herself.

“Hah,” Javier scoffs, trying to ignore the shivery goosebumps at someone calling you ‘his’. Buying time, he takes another long drag, letting it numb the sting from his cough.

Sometimes he wondered why he let himself get sucked into these coffee chats. They so rarely seemed to go well for him.

“Come on, Javier,” Connie coaxes. “I know there’s something between you two. Do you wanna talk about it?” A genuine offer, not just merciless teasing. She’s managed to wipe most of the mirth from her face, leaving a sympathetic expression behind.

He rubs his thumb along his mustache as he sighs a long stream of smoke from the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know what’s between us,” he finally says. “I’m not- I don’t do relationships.”

He isn’t sure he remembers how to. Nothing about his life here is suited to them- it’s intense, harsh, dangerous. Not to mention his network of CIs, who he pays for sex as well as information.

“Why not?” Connie asks simply.

A glance at her face tells Javier that it’s a serious question. He snorts. Lounging back in his chair, he raises a contemptuous eyebrow at her. “You can’t honestly tell me the DEA lifestyle is helping your marriage.”

Her face tightens, and he feels a pang of guilt. But he resolutely pushes it away- Connie knows who he is, she asked for this conversation- “My marriage isn’t up for discussion here,” she says evenly. “And besides, don’t you think that’s something for her to decide? She knows what you do, she sees you almost every day. She told me she was helping you with something- do you think she’d let herself get close to you if she was scared of your ‘lifestyle’?”

He doesn’t let it show how deeply her word affects him; but like ink dropping into water, he feels a ripple of shock. The change of color as his thoughts cloud, churn with sudden optimism. Because Connie was right, you had helped him- with a fucking secret stab wound, for christ’s sake. You’d already seen the blood and the secrets, understood that his life came with risks- and helped him without further explanation.

Javier brings the cigarette to his lips again without tasting it, unseeing gaze fixed ahead. Possible though it is that you’re not put off by the danger which hounds him, it still doesn’t mean you want to be more than friends. That was what you’d said, right? ‘Friends are a thing people have.’

But there was also what you hadn’t said last night. That- as long as it was for reasons other than feeling like he owed you- he was allowed to want to sleep with you.

Suddenly he slumps forward onto his elbows, sighing. The wrinkles on his forehead ache as he smooths his thumb over them. “I don’t know how close she wants to get,” Javi mumbles. He might be experienced at sex with women, but forming conections based on what was beneath the skin...well, not only was he rusty, but it required a frankly terrifying amount of vulnerability that he wasn’t sure he was up for.

Connie softens. “Listen, Javi, I saw the way she was looking at you during movie night. She’s interested in you, no matter how much you think she does or doesn’t know. Just- see what happens, or…ask her.” With her last words she shrugs matter-of-factly, content to drop the subject now that she’s delivered her thoughts.

His lips twist, the only begrudging acknowledgement he gives as he reflects on this. He picks up his mug and swirls the dregs of the coffee his friend had poured for him- black, like he usually takes it. He takes a sip.

For the first time, he thinks it could use a little sugar.

--

A/N: Get it, because he needs some of READER’S sugar AYOOOO...I’ll leave now lmao.

Spanish note for the less linguistically inclined: ‘Vecinita’ is the word ‘Vecina’ (Neighbor) plus the suffix ‘-ita’, which is attached to words as a way of describing them as ‘small’. So literally translated it says ‘little (feminine) neighbor’, but! This suffix is also used to say things in an affectionate way, so you could put it on the end of someone’s name (ie Pedrito <3), or on the end of another noun to indicate a nickname. (Disclaimer, I only speak Italian, but it has this same concept, so I think I did it right. Someone pls tell me if I did not). It’s used very casually, so it’s not really as deep as it sounded in Reader and Javi’s moment, but it was deep for Javi okay!!!

The dessert this chapter is named after translates to ‘Gloria pastries’, which according to Google, is a popular Columbian pastry. I have not actually ever encountered one of these personally, but I’ve had all the ingredients individually, so I cannot imagine them not being DELICIOUS all together. Here is a recipe I fully intend to try (it uses mozzarella cheese, but other sources say you can use any plain/white/farmer’s cheese). Guava paste is a really yummy, thick puree (think jam, but thick enough to stay in slab form at room temp) of guava fruit (obvs), which I’ve used in recipes before! I found it in a regular Weis market in central Pennsylvania lmao so I would guess it to be a thing you can find across the US. Arequipe is just another name for dulce de leche. I gotta get me and my sweet tooth to Columbia!!

Fic Taglist: @din-damn-djarin, @thirstworldproblemss, @remembertoreadthese