#like. man. this got long sure but also. man.

[rans-prettydoll]

Mechanic!Sukuna . . . Part 2!

Note : mechanic!sukuna part 1 here! Make sure to read this part before so it all makes sense. ALSO MIGHT BE SOME TYPING MISTAKES.

Mechanic!Sukuna who while you are outside his house as he fixes your car, makes you watch him so you could at least understand a bit about what he was doing but fuck was it useless. The sweat on his forehead and the oil that stuck to his thick digits that you so badly wanted for him to fuck into your pretty pussy. You couldn’t help but clench your thighs as you watched him work.

Mechanic!Sukuna always noticed that whenever you came over to his house to have him fix your car, you would be wearing the skimpiest clothing. Your cute mini skirts and crop tops that he had mentioned before in his mind but every time he saw you his dick would throb.

Mechanic!Sukuna would send you away with a perfectly fixed car and before you got in it, you would kiss him in return with a side of money. Of course, you got a discount. Shit, he would make you pay in a different way. His favorite pretty customers always got pretty prices.

Mechanic!Sukuna who would groan and talk shit whenever you had called him only a few days later about how you had driven over a nail while on your way back from work. You were upset and he could practically hear the pout in your voice as you complained about your flat tire. He would then only a few minutes later, pull up in his car to come get you. You were so upset as you got out of the car, explaining to him what happened. Gosh, you were so adorable and you didn’t even know how much he wanted to fuck you over the hood of your car right now. He wanted to fuck some sense into you, to make you stop fucking up your car so much that he obviously would have to fix it, but man did he hate it so good. He loved the way you always called him first. Even for stuff that didn’t have to deal with your car. He loved the way you depended on him for things that you felt only he could help you with. He was so lost in thought that he only broke out when he felt you hug him as you whined in his chest. Your button-down shirt had a bit too many buttons opened but it was valid because of how hot it was out, it showed your pretty cleavage. Oh, how bad he wanted to suck and leave a hickey right on those tits that you loved to show off to him so much while he was trying to focus on your car. But back to the current moment. He would sigh and place one hand on your back, patting it before placing the other hand on your ass. Giving it a small pat too as he spoke in the rough tone of his, “Fuck woman..can’t take care of a car for shit. For right now just get in mine and I’ll drive ya pretty ass home. We’ll worry about yours in a few. Don’t worry, I’ll fuckin’ come back and get it of course. But ya know ya gonna have to pay me back...I don’t think I want money this time. This ass lookin’ too cute in these work pants…” He would say before leaving a small smack on your ass to which you would whine before swinging yourself off him. Walking back to your car to grab your bags and everything and putting it in his car then getting in the passenger seat.

Mechanic!Sukuna who ended up fucking you silly in the back of his car once he made it in your driveway. He had you bouncing on his dick so good that it made the whole car shake as you moaned. You were trying to keep it down, for fuck sake you didn’t want your nosey neighbors to hear you getting fucked so good to the point where you couldn’t think straight anymore!! All you could do was babble as you held onto his strong shoulders. He had your work shirt popped open and bra halfway off, just enough for him to pop a tit out as he sucked on it. Swirling his tongue and making sure to leave hickeys all over that pretty chest of yours just like he had been wanting to do ever since he’d met you. “Shit..woman. Told ya I was gon’ make ya pay me back, aye? But I guess it’s a payment the both of us can enjoy.” He would say as he took a long lick from your left tit up to your neck where he had marked a few minutes before. He took one of his hands and he brought it down to smack that plumped ass of yours that you had been showing off to him in those mini skirts you always wore. Always bending over so he could see your pretty panties and then acting like you didn’t know that you were making his cock ache. But now he had that same cock stuffed into your pussy, making you bounce and clench on it until he fucked some sense into that brain of yours. Until you learned how to take better care of your car. But you knew you wouldn’t, fuck if this was the outcome that you were going to get each time you fucked up your car from now on. You would make sure to pop a tire or something!! You didn’t even know. But fuck all you knew at the moment was that his dick was so good. Better than you had ever imagined while you had been playing with your pussy to his voice whenever you called him telling him about how you would be coming over the next day to get your car fixed. You let out a loud moan as you felt him thrust up into you, bullying your pussy so good as he lectured you. “Ya gonna listen now, huh? Ya gonna stop fuckin’ up ya car? Or do I have to have ya bouncing on my dick like this every time until ya get some sense into that pretty head of yours? Such a nasty, thing. I know ya only fuck your car so that ya can come over.” He would say as he let out a deep chuckle before pulling you off as he cummed all over your tummy. You would cum too, all over his back seats. So what if he knew your plans all along, he seemed to like the idea just as much as you. You loved your mechanic.

@shaeshaeboo asked to be tagged ! 💋

[wwinterwitch]

friendly banter — bucky barnes

summary: sam asks for your help on a mission. you're reunited with him, Joaquín and Bucky. the last one really likes to banter. you think it's just a friendly exchange. it's actually a bit more than that

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader (+ platonic friendships with sam and joaquín)

word count: 5k

tags: friends to lovers, sharing feelings (awkward but cute), reader is a hacker and former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, fluff, undisclosed feelings (mutual), kissing

note: this was kind of a mess but i'm back after a long time on not writing any fics! i'm currently in my last months of studying to become a lawyer (yay) and writing fics has proven to be very therapeutic during this time. this may or may not suck but i enjoyed writing it so i hope you enjoy it

please reblog and/or comment if you enjoy!

all masterlists | marvel masterlist

"Got eyes on it?"

You stop walking as soon as you hear that question, staring ahead in disbelief. "You mean...the huge panel in the middle of the room?" you ask with obvious sarcasm, trying to speak as quietly as possible through your comm as you make your way further inside the darkened room.

It’s a typical security room with tons of cameras pointing to every corner of the building. To your relief, the presence of your group is apparently still unnoticed as your eyes wander across the various screens in front of you, noticing no commotion or an unnecessarily large group of unfriendly-looking guys rushing to find you. The large panel control installed in the middle of the desk before you is the thing that immediately gets your attention as you walk closer, always keeping in mind the task at hand.

All you really have to do is hack into the system to disable the security protocols long enough for Sam and Joaquín to sneak into the top floors of the building to retrieve the data that they wanted from the bad guy's records in order to find out more about the gang they'll be (hopefully) putting behind bars soon.

This is not the first and definitely not the last time you'll be doing these kinds of favors for Sam. Your friendship goes way back, when you were still a nobody at S.H.I.E.L.D. that somehow managed to get on Captain America's good graces after that whole Washington fiasco. You're still unsure why Steve always thought so highly of you. Then again, he was the type of guy who never failed to see the potential in other people, even when they couldn't quite see it themselves.

Now, you get to help the new Captain America, who's also as dear to you as the previous one was...perhaps just a tiny bit more annoying, but one of your dearest friends regardless.

As you rush over to the panel, you have to jump over the unconscious body of a security guard that Bucky (another dear friend you met thanks to Steve) took care of before you walked inside, quickly taking a seat in front of the large keyboard to start doing your part of the job.

You hear the unmistakable chuckle from Joaquín as you quickly type in a series of codes and commands. "Jeez, I missed having you on our missions!"

"Awwh!" you mutter with genuine endearment. "I missed being part of these missions too, buddy!"

"And we're still going out for drinks after this, right?"

"Are you genuinely asking me that, Joaquín Torres?" you ask, sounding overly offended on purpose.

You hear him laugh again, but before he can say anything back, you hear Bucky interrupting the exchange. "How about we focus on not getting caught here and then you guys can discuss your night plans?"

"Uh-oh, old man got upset," you joke soon after, finishing to type in the last few codes to fully disable the security system. Surely they have some backup protocol that would soon trigger the alarm to alert these guys of an unwanted visitor, but by then all of you will be long gone. It really is a very simple mission.

"He's jealous you're not taking him out for drinks," Sam jokes back, and then you immediately hear Joaquín agreeing with him.

It's a normal occurrence for Sam to be making those kinds of jokes involving you and Bucky. He has been making those types of remarks for as long as you can remember, fully convinced the two of you "have something going on" as he has put it before. You really try not to think too much about it because, first off, Sam loves to say shit just for the sake of pissing you and Bucky off and, second...you really don't want to let those comments get to your head.

You don't want to let yourself wonder about the what if's of that. There was a time in your life when you did allow yourself to fantasize about the possibility of actually "having something going on" with him, but you learnt to shut off that part of your brain in order to avoid getting your hopes up regarding a situation that just wouldn't happen outside your imagination. Hearing Sam’s silly remarks would only bring you back to those days.

Bucky has been one of your best friends for years and he has never shown the slightest of hints that he might be interested in you in the way you would like (at least not that you're aware of), and there was absolutely no way that you would ever make the first move and risk embarrassing yourself in front of him or, even worse, losing the friendship you two have. You eventually just got comfortable in the abyss of eternal friendzone and learned to accept it. If there was ever going to happen something between the two of you, surely it would've happened by now.

Still, Sam seems to be holding onto that rope for dear life and refuses to let it go. You can't deny it’s a bit uncomfortable to hear those jokes though. They somehow make you feel like somehow you got caught and everyone knows you have a secret crush on Bucky, but you've learned to adapt over the years.

"First part's done.” Leaning back on the chair, you watch the percentage bar on the screen before you, completely ignoring Sam's little joke. "A few more seconds and you're up guys!"

"Hallway’s clear," you hear Bucky say, still guarding the room where you're currently in. "How much time do we have to get out of here?"

"Uh...I can't say for sure. Anywhere near five to thirty, maybe?"

"Minutes?"

"Seconds."

"Oh, great," he mutters ironically.

"Well, I'm sorry. We're hacking into a very sophisticated system that I don't entirely know how it works!" you snap back at him. "Besides, the whole point of this is to give Joaquín and Sam enough time to sneak inside without having to deal with a bunch of guards going straight for them. Bad guys will know we're down here and they'll come looking for us first."

"Isn't hacking your whole thing? How do you not know how it works?" he asks, and just by the tone of his voice you know he's trying to piss you off, because he knows that's exactly the type of comments that would make you upset. If that type of comment came from a stranger you would be strangling them right now, but it’s Bucky, and he seems to enjoy annoying the shit out of you.

"Big talk coming from someone who still asks for my help because he barely knows how to unlock his own phone."

The sound of his faint chuckle immediately makes you smile, perfectly picturing the way he's probably rolling his eyes just barely right now, trying to suppress a smirk as if you could possibly see him right now, knowing he hates when you point it out to him.

"You have to give me some credit, though. I know how to program emails on that thing now. Soon enough I'll be taking your job, so you better watch out."

You can't help but laugh at his reply, slightly shaking your head as you realize you’re getting distracted by him, trying to keep your focus on what you're supposed to be doing right now rather than indulge in a never ending back-and-forth with him. As soon as you type the last codes and the large SECURITY SYSTEM: DISABLED alert pops on the monitor, you quickly rise up from your seat. "You're up guys, hurry!"

"On it!" Sam replies as you rush outside the room.

Before he even says anything to you, Bucky is quickly guiding you down the hallway with the intent of getting out of there as soon as possible, turning to look at you with a confused expression when you stop walking and, instead, start yanking his arm to go in the opposite direction.

"What are you doing?"

"The exit is that way," you point out as if it’s obvious.

He looks even more confused now, and slightly annoyed. "Don't think so. That's the way we entered, but there's another way of leaving this place a lot faster."

"No, we can't change the plan!"

He definitely looks annoyed now, trying not to snap at you. "I'm not changing the plan. Exiting that way has always been the plan. If we go that way, we'll-"

Before he can say anything else, the loud sound of an alarm blasts through the entire building, signaling that you've been discovered and you'll be having company very soon. As if that wasn't enough, the door of the room you were previously in opens violently, and the guard that was previously unconscious on the floor is frantically alerting more people through his radio.

“Oh, that’s great,” you point out, slightly panicking right now because you’re still inside the building. “You decided to wake up early, huh?”

Bucky immediately grabs the guy by his bulletproof vest to throw him against the wall, taking his barely regained consciousness to his advantage. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice about six other guys coming towards you, turning around the same corner you wanted to run towards as part of your escape plan. Sadly, that's when you realized maybe the direction Bucky was suggesting was better.

You’re unsure of what to do now. It's not like you haven't been taught how to take down a few bad guys, but your specialities have always involved computers rather than physical combat. Almost as if he could read your mind, Bucky turns towards you for a quick second. "Go! I'll catch up to you." Again, almost as if he knew that you'd try to ask if he was sure about it, he immediately shouts yet another "Go!" before you're finally deciding to do as he says, running down the hall in the direction he has intended to go before.

Hours later, second after second that passes by, you’re more and more convinced that you'll never hear the end of it. If only you could go back in time and just agree with Bucky's plan rather than trying to argue with him. It would have spared you a lifetime of him reminding you how he was right and you were wrong.

Turns out his exit plan was the one you should've followed all along, because it actually led to the engine room which immediately meant being in a much less crowded part of the building to escape without risking bumping into more people.

All of you had enough time to change into something more comfortable to go out for drinks. Initially it was something you and Joaquín had planned alone, but evidently the two of you didn’t hesitate to invite Sam and Bucky. Of course they accepted the invite, and of course Bucky has done his very best to keep reminding you of your little mistake.

"Listen, if you don't want shit like that to happen again, just let me know your plan beforehand."

"But I did let you know. The problem is that someone is not really a good listener."

"No. Letting me know- like, properly letting me know, would've been telling me before we got inside that building."

Bucky smirks as he leans back on his chair, and it's obvious to you he's really enjoying this banter. "Plan changed at the last minute. If you would've just followed my lead, we could've left that building a lot faster."

"Ah, so you do recognize that wasn't the original plan!" you exclaim with a triumphant grin, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "You changed it all by yourself and didn't tell me."

"Changed at the last minute," he repeats, as if to correct you. "You wanted me to stand there and explain every detail to you?"

"Oh, as if explaining it would've taken you hours! You’re always so dramatic."

"Children," Sam commented, interrupting the banter with an unamused expression. "I had to trust the operation to literal children."

Bucky scoffs at that comment, watching as Sam lets out a chuckle, shaking his head after witnessing this whole interaction between the two of you.

"Kinda makes you appreciate having an actual professional around, huh?" Joaquín says right after, flashing a charming smile in Sam's direction.

"Oh, please!" you, Bucky and Sam reply in unison, earning an offended look from Joaquín.

Soon after, Bucky is speaking again. "You know what? I'll give you some credit. You managed to do your part of the job…decently."

It’s obvious he wants a reaction from you, but even if your banter is entertaining, you know you can't keep bickering the entire night. Once again, you can’t help but to feel embarrassed, as if everyone at that table knows your little secret regarding your feelings towards Bucky. As if some innocent banter between friends could ever give it away. Besides, the four of you are here to celebrate your mission was a success, and the fact that you haven't seen the trio in a long time makes it the perfect opportunity to catch up.

Pretending to fully ignore his last comment, you turn to look at Sam from across the table. "You. I haven't seen your lovely face in a while," you start, watching him physically get ready for whatever silly comment you might come up with. "Tell me what you've been up to...I've seen the photos of you shaking hands with the President," the reference to Everett Ross sounding anything but endearing.

Sam sighs, shrugging. "Yeah, well, I guess you can say it's part of the job," he simply replies before taking a quick sip of his beer. "I can't say I'm thrilled about it, but I figured it's best to compromise a bit and keep the man happy. As long as he stays in line, I'll cooperate."

"Of course you're not thrilled about it, Sam. That's the same guy that put your ass in a prison in the middle of nowhere like you were some kind of top security criminal!" you reply almost immediately, still in disbelief at the revelation of any sort of alliance between him and Ross. Sam's expression lets you know that even he is still conflicted about it, not really knowing what to say. After taking a brief pause, you try to say something else to lighten the mood, not wanting him to think like you’re judging him for it. "Hey, I understand having to keep up appearances. I get it. And please accept my deepest condolences for having to deal with that piece of shit."

Your last comment makes the three of them laugh, and Bucky takes the opportunity to change the subject. "And what have you been up to?" he asks, sounding genuinely curious. "It's been a while since any of us has seen you."

"Well, my life has been all over the place the last few months. As all of you know, I moved into a new apartment. I loved my roommate, but I felt it was time to just live by myself, you know?"

"So no plans of leaving New York to move to D.C., huh?" Joaquín asks with a smile.

You return the smile immediately. "As fun as it would be to live closer to all of you weirdos, no. I plan to stay in New York for now. I'm just really comfortable there with the new apartment, the promotion I got a few months ago, the fact that most of my family and friends are there..."

"But not all your friends," Sam quickly points out, pretending to sound incredibly offended by your last statement. "But since we’re talking about friends and just social life in general...are you still single?"

"Why are you always so interested in my love life?" you joke with a playful grin, taking a sip of your margarita to leave him wondering the answer just a few seconds more. "Yes, I'm still single. Queen's full of creeps," you added shortly after. "Are any of you seeing anybody?"

"Proudly and happily single," Joaquín replies, raising his drink up as if to cheer before taking a sip.

Sam gives him a very visible side-eye. "Yikes," is all he says regarding that, turning back to you. "I'm not interested in dating right now, to be honest. I’m quite a busy gentleman, you know?" 

“And you say ‘yikes’ to me?” Joaquín says immediately after, looking dumbfounded.

You chime in before any of them could add anything else regarding that. “Bucky?” you ask, turning to look at him as you await his answer.

It was a bold move to directly ask him that question. On one hand, you know Bucky has always been a loner so you’re almost certain that he’s single. But there’s always that tiny percentage of probability that you’ll learn a truth you’re not sure how you’ll handle. He’s your best friend, of course you’ll be happy if he’s happy…but the idea of him revealing to you that he’s dating someone might actually make you physically sick.

You notice Bucky gets uncomfortable right away. “I’m single too.”

The pleasant feeling of relief lasts just a few seconds. The fact that Sam laughs at Bucky’s reply has your mind spinning, not understanding why he would laugh at that. Why the fuck is he laughing? Should you start panicking already?

"Actually, our buddy has been on a few dating apps, I believe."

Oh no. 

Even when you try to remind yourself not to care about anything remotely romantic involving Bucky- or at least, not to care more than a platonic friend would, you can deny the news of him possibly dating someone or even just randomly talking to any person in those apps makes your stomach turn. It really wouldn't be dramatic to claim that you could quite literally throw up right now at the thought of him and someone else right now.

It's not common to hear any sort of updates regarding Bucky's love life because...well, there's never any developments. He's never shown interest in anyone, and as far as you know he's never had any sort of relationship with anyone like that– serious or casual. What if he's interested in exploring that part of his life now? What if he has found someone already and you're about to hear him talk all about them? It makes you genuinely sick, but you try your best to act as unbothered as you possibly can, forcing you to mask your disgust and heartbreak with pleasant surprise.

"Is that so?" is all you say.

He looks even more uncomfortable by the subject, choosing to look down at his almost finished beer. "It's not...I was just trying to put myself out there," he says awkwardly, shrugging. "Long story short, online dating is not for me. I hated it."

You could tell he doesn’t really like talking about this subject, so you try to quickly ease the tension with a bit of humor. Besides, you're probably better off without hearing anything regarding that topic anyway. "It's because you couldn't figure out how the whole swiping thing worked, isn't it?"

Bucky immediately seems to relax with your joke, chuckling a bit. "It took me a few days actually." He takes a quick pause before continuing. "I probably should've asked you for help."

If there was any hidden message behind his last statement, it completely goes over your head because you genuinely thought it was just part of your playful banter regarding his lack of skills when it comes to technology. You laugh, and in return Bucky offers you a smile because that's as much hinting as he dares to do out loud, especially if Sam and Joaquín are sitting right there. He's incredibly used to you never getting his subtle implications anyway.

In front of you, the other two guys are watching this exchange unfold, and it's hard to tell which one of them has a bigger urge to tell you to stop being so fucking oblivious already. As subtle as he can be, Joaquín pokes Sam's side with his elbow to give him a quick heads-up before speaking. "Considering everyone's almost finished, Sam and I are getting another round of drinks."

The two of them are standing up when they notice you're grabbing your purse and standing up as well. "Oh, I can go with you. I have to go to the restroom anyway."

The two of them want to yet again yell at you to please get a grip on the situation, but Sam just silently takes a seat as you and Joaquín go over to the bar, quickly telling him what you want to order before heading towards the restroom.

A few drinks later the four of you are finally leaving the bar. Sam and Joaquín left to their respective houses while you and Bucky shared an Uber back to his own place. He was kind enough to let you crash in his spare room for the night. It's not like this is the first time you've ever stayed at his apartment when you visit the boys, but you can't deny the idea is both thrilling and terrifying- not like anything would happen to make you feel like that...you two are just friends...but, still...your silly head likes to get silly ideas sometimes.

Deciding not to indulge in your little fantasies, you decide to start a conversation. "Update on the food?" you ask, turning to look at Bucky, who sits comfortably on the sofa of his living room.

"Like ten minutes away," he says, taking a quick look at the screen. "How come you haven't congratulated me for knowing how to order food with this thing?" he added with evident surprise, making you chuckle.

"Because you keep saying 'this thing' like it's some mysterious device completely unknown to mankind," you reply, and before you can stop yourself, you continue. "It's cute, I guess, so congratulations."

Bucky's grin grows wider. "Oh, so it's cute?"

You try really hard not to panic, feeling incredibly embarrassed. The fact that he seems to be enjoying what you just said makes it even worse, because you know he’ll use that to tease you now. He just finds any possible excuse to do it. "Cute as in lame."

He chuckles. "Right."

Not knowing what else to say, you clear your throat before walking towards him, taking a seat next to him as you try to come up with something else to change the subject immediately. "I'm starving," is all you say, mentally scolding you for such a poor effort.

As soon as you're sitting, you unsuccessfully try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach when he leans just a bit closer...perhaps if you weren't hyper vigilant whenever the two of you are too near you might've missed it. And then, he stretches his arm across the back of the sofa, right behind you.

For a second, you even thought of mocking him for such a move, but bringing more attention to it would only make you that much nervous, and you really don't want to embarrass yourself. And most importantly, you don't want your silly mind and your silly heart to get their hopes up. You're just friends, nothing else.

"Me too," he agrees, the playful grin on his face still not disappearing. "Might have to steal a few fries from you."

"Oh, I'd really like to see you try stealing my food," you reply in the same playful tone, leaning just a little closer to him without even noticing that you were actually doing that.

"I think I deserve some compensation after what happened today. You know, for all the unnecessary ass-kicking I had to do."

"Just when I thought you had moved on from that!" you reply, jokingly slapping his knee. "It wasn't my fault, it was yours for not telling me the plan on time!"

"You should've just trusted me," he insists. "But you always have to be right on everything..."

You know he's joking. There's something about bantering with you that seems to absolutely fascinate him. "Yeah, and you always want to piss me off."

Bucky chuckles again, and that's when you feel his hand gently resting on your shoulder, his arm fully around you. What the actual fuck is going on. "What, you think I like pissing you off?" he asks, tone slightly lower than before, which inevitably makes the butterflies in your stomach multiply. "Is that why you think I do it?"

You were quiet for a moment, your brain not entirely registering what's happening. "I mean...yeah."

He stops for a second, and you almost see a hint of hesitation on his face before he speaks, letting out a frustrated sigh. "For someone who claims to be so much more clever than anyone else, I would've expected you to figure it out sooner," he starts, shaking his head with a soft smile. "I've been actually flirting with you, doll."

The comment evidently takes you by surprise and all you can do is to stare back at him like a complete fool. His arm around your shoulders, the proximity, the fact he had the fucking audacity to call you that nickname...did you somehow fall asleep on his couch without noticing and this is the type of oddly-realistic dream your brain decided to come up with? Are you still standing there like a fool just fantasizing and this one just got way too immersive? And did he really just say that he's been flirting with you?

Noticing you weren't saying anything, he decides to continue, looking a little hesitant and disappointed with your silence. "You know, it'd be really nice if you say something..."

"Awful way to flirt," is all you could come up with, which immediately makes him burst out laughing. 

"Maybe," he agrees. "But I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out. I mean…Sam and Joaquín did a long time ago."

"The three of you share the same brain cell, of course they figured it out a long time ago,” you reply, still in complete shock to be having this conversation with him. Were you really that blind? "You could’ve just asked me."

"You know I'm not direct like that," he replies, and the shy look on his face almost makes your heart melt. "Like I said, I was relying on your impressive intelligence to figure it out."

You let out a soft chuckle after his last comment, immediately giving him a warning look. "Don't." He looks back at you for a few seconds, almost wanting to challenge you after noticing the way you’re looking at him. Soon enough, he’s unable to hide his smirk anymore. "There it is," you point out, knowing he hates that.

Bucky lets out a soft grunt as a complaint, resting his head on your shoulder. Encouraged, you immediately move a hand up to his hair, affectionately playing with it. The two of you stay like that, simply enjoying being so close to each other. It feels incredibly right.

"So how do you feel?" he eventually asks, perhaps feeling braver to ask now that he doesn’t have to look into your eyes when he does.

You don’t reply right away, still feeling incredibly nervous despite knowing he does like you back. Eventually, you do build up the courage to say something. "I like you. Like, a lot."

Bucky moves back to look at you know. The look on his face gives you the impression that he wasn’t expecting you to be so honest with your answer, perhaps expecting another silly joke or sarcastic remark. And even though you thought about the possibility of choosing a more humorous approach, after keeping your feelings for him locked up and stored away for so long, you really needed to just say it.

Instead of saying something back, Bucky tightens his grip around your shoulders just enough, using his other hand to grab your chin right before kissing you. It certainly takes you by surprise, but you're quickly returning the kiss as you just completely melt in his arms, still trying to convince yourself that this is not some kind of hyper-realistic dream.

His hand swiftly moves to your cheek as the kiss continues, the gesture so incredibly delicate, a sharp contrast with the pure need he’s transmitting through the kiss. It’s desperate, passionate, intense…like he’s been waiting an entire lifetime to finally be able to experience this, grateful for the absolute privilege that it is to kiss you.

One of your hands moves up to the back of his neck and your touch seems to encourage him that much more because before you know it, he's taking the opportunity to gently bite your bottom lip, right before continuing to make out with you.

Much to yours and Bucky's disappointment, the sound of his apartment's doorbell echoes through the apartment, indicating the food you previously ordered has arrived.

He reluctantly pulls away with a soft grunt. "Food's here," he comments out loud, offering you a soft smile. He takes a brief moment to look at you, brushing his thumb against your cheek in an affectionate manner, dreading the idea of having to leave this couch. "I'll get it."

"I can help," you offer almost immediately.

Instead of replying right away, he leans in for a short kiss. "I'll get it," he insists, quickly making his way to the door after another buzz could be heard.

You sat in his living room in complete disbelief of what just happened, thankful that he's not here right now to see your goofy smile and blushed cheeks. He'd probably tease you to no end if he did see that.

Not knowing what else to do, you immediately reach for your phone, opening your messages. You knew exactly who would be the right people to share the news with.

'uhm so we just kissed??????' you texted, the first message in the group chat you just created with Sam and Joaquín.

Joaquín is the first one to reply. 'HELL YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!'

'FUCKING FINALLY.' Sam texts shortly after.

[snail-day]

Thinking about how unhinged it would be to date/marry Sukuna. He's not exactly a normal man. Curse? Man? Who knows.

TW: Yandere Behaviors, Sukuna threatening to eat you (as a joke), pregnancy, its sukuna so...be warned? Fluffy. MDNI.

------

Sukuna uses the threat “I’m going to eat you” a little too often.

He thinks it’s funny. Thinks your wide-eyed horror is adorable. His sweet little dove, so gullible, so easy to spook. Every time he leans in close and whispers it low against your pulse, breath fanning the soft, sensitive skin. You flinch, unaware about how fond he is of you. Like you haven’t caught the way he watches you sleep, strokes your back when you’re sick, presses his palm over your belly now with something bordering on affection.

He doesn’t kiss your cheek like some sweet prince. No instead he bites. Sharp enough to leave little indents. Licks over the tender skin when you whine. Chuckles when you complain, pinching your hip or smoothing his hand over the curve of your stomach and muttering, “Just waiting until you’re nice and plump. Ripe.”

You thought it was a joke. Probably a joke. Actually, you aren't sure. You've heard the stories. The legends.

But then you got pregnant. And suddenly, every offhanded comment hit different.

Especially the time he said as his crimson eyes flicking lazily to your stomach, “If it’s a girl, I’ll eat it. So you better pray I get a son.”

You laughed. Nervously. Until you walked into the kitchen one day and found Uraume sharpening a long, glinting knife - expression blank as ever, as they asked, “Have you figured out the gender yet?”

You cried.

You cried all the way back to Sukuna, your pretty little body shaking as you sobbed into the warmth of his chest, pleading not to eat the baby. Or you. But mostly the baby. Please please please, you’ll be good, you’ll do anything.

Sukuna was a bit lost.

Sitting there, robes split open, a hand resting on your swollen belly, blinking down at you in baffled silence. His peachy brows furrowed as you hiccuped and clutched at him, and then, finally, he let out a low laugh and cupped your cheeks in his big, warm palms.

“You haven’t realized I’m joking, little dove?” he crooned, tilting your face up to meet his amused, if slightly exasperated, gaze. “You think I care if it’s a girl or boy? They’re going to be strong either way.”

You sniffled, lip wobbling. “You’re so mean.”

“I’m honest.”

“You said you’d eat them.”

“I also said I’d eat you,” he reminded you smugly, brushing his thumb under your eye. “And look at you. Still in one piece.”

You huffed, trembling against his chest, and he pressed a kiss to your temple. A rare gesture, one he only gave when he knew he’d pushed you just a little too far.

“…Besides,” he added, voice a low, teasing purr against your skin. “You’re out of your prime now. Too sweet. I don’t care for sweets.”

You slapped his arm, weakly.

He just laughed again, holding you tighter. Because you always fall for it. And deep down, a selfish part of him likes that you’re just scared enough to cling to him when you’re unsure. Because fear keeps things close. And close is exactly where he wants you.

[iydiamartinx]

STAKEOUT AT TABLE NINE

dick grayson x reader, ft. batfam

divider by: @cafekitsune & @thecutestgrotto& @omi-resources word count: 1.8k synopsis: Dick Grayson just wanted a normal date. No suits. No masks. Definitely no Batkid stakeout at a fancy restaurant. Too bad his siblings brought disguises, drama, and a front-row seat to his love life. a/n: Since you guys liked unexpected guests, I thought I'd might make something with a similar vibe

You were halfway through your glass of wine, basking in the warm candlelight of the nicest date night you’d had in weeks, when Dick froze, fork halfway to his mouth, eyes narrowing like a predator who’d spotted prey.

“…No.”

You paused, setting down your glass. “What now?”

His eyes narrowed. “We’re being watched.”

Your shoulders tensed. “Joker? Riddler? Ra’s?”

He leaned in, deadly serious. “Worse. My siblings.”

You’d never officially met them outside your masked persona, but Dick had told you enough stories to paint a vivid picture—and to mentally prepare yourself for chaos incarnate.

You turned slowly. And sure enough…

At a nearby table, Tim sat like a stockbroker on his lunch break—slicked-back hair, tailored blazer, a leather briefcase on one side, and a newspaper in front of him. A newspaper with actual eyeholes cut into it. He lowered it just long enough to snap a photo of you and Dick with his phone—flash still on. The sound of the shutter echoed across the room.

You blinked against the glare.

Two tables behind him sat Stephanie, Duke, and Cassandra—though only one of them looked remotely sane.

Steph wore a wide-brimmed floppy sunhat, oversized sunglasses, and clutched a fake martini glass with what looked like club soda and a floating plastic olive. She was scribbling furiously in a notebook every time you smiled.

Duke, hood pulled low and sunglasses slipping down his nose, scanned the restaurant with exaggerated caution, eyes darting like a man expecting an ambush from the breadsticks.

And Cass—bless her—was the only one not drawing attention, dressed in all black, seated in a dark corner with the stillness of someone who could vanish in a blink.

At the bar, Jason hunched in a hoodie, the world’s worst fake mustache clinging to his upper lip. He cradled a glass of whiskey like a noir detective, speaking quietly into the cuff of his sleeve.

“Target is laughing,” you overheard him mutter. “Suspect she’s under duress. Dickhead is not that charming. Something’s not right.”

And then there was Damian.

In a crisp waiter uniform and fake french moustache.

He was not employed at this restaurant.

Dick sucked in a breath, knuckles tightening around his fork. “I’m going to kill them.”

“He’s got a name tag,” you whispered, peeking at the small child approaching. “It says ‘Darian.’”

Damian arrived at your table with the poise of a cat about to pounce. “Your special tonight is betrayal with a side of poor judgment. Wine?”

“Hi, Damian,” you said sweetly.

He did not flinch. “Darian.”

Dick gave him a look full of daggers. “You don’t work here.”

“I do now,”“I do now,” Damian replied, already aggressively pouring wine you didn’t order. “You’re welcome.”

“Damian,” Dick warned, voice like steel under velvet.

“Darian,” Damian corrected with a touch more venom. He leaned closer, gaze flicking to you. “Also—if she hurts you, I know where she lives.”

You took a measured sip of your wine. “You do not.”

He offered a tight, terrifying smile. “You’d be surprised.”

With that, he straightened and stalked away with a grace that would’ve fooled anyone who wasn’t aware he was a miniature assassin in disguise. You watched, stunned, as he stopped at another table and casually placed a Caesar salad in front of a confused elderly man.

“…did he just bring someone a salad?” you whispered.

Dick blinked. “That better not be poisoned.”

You stared at the table. “Do we tell the manager?”

He reached for his phone, jaw set with dangerous calm. “No. We do something worse.”

It turned out Dick’s threat wasn’t empty, and that “something worse” wasn’t him dealing with the problem himself. It was calling Bruce.

Two minutes later, Damian stormed back to the table where Stephanie, Tim, and Jason had regrouped—his eyes burning with righteous fury, apron askew, name tag reading Darian slightly crooked.

“Grayson called Father,” he hissed, like the words tasted like acid in his mouth.

Tim slowly lowered his newspaper, concern flickering across his face.

The fallout had been immediate. The real waiter—confused but polite—had approached Damian mid-salad-delivery with the kind of corporate smile reserved for polite hostage situations.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir,” the man had said, “but we’ve received a call from a Mr. Wayne regarding a… staffing issue.”

Damian hadn’t even gotten to argue before he was gently but firmly escorted from the dining floor like a misbehaving pageant child. Of course, Bruce had smoothed things over with the restaurant, offering a generous donation to the manager’s favorite charity along with a promise that the Wayne family would “handle it internally.”

To Damian’s credit, he had been shockingly efficient. No-nonsense, quick on his feet, and absolutely ruthless with customers who snapped their fingers or mispronounced “gnocchi.” In another life, he might’ve made an excellent maître d’.

“Abort?” Tim asked cautiously, glancing between his younger brother’s scowl and the still-blissfully-untouched couple across the room.

Duke, seated beside Steph, hesitated. “That’s probably a good idea.”

Steph scoffed, eyes hidden behind oversized sunglasses, the rim of her floppy hat flopping forward as she leaned in.

“Absolutely not,” she said firmly. “We need to know more about her.”

“Her name is Y/N,” Damian deadpanned. “She’s twenty-six, known as the vigilante Nightshade, she is a licensed EMT, allergic to strawberries, and owns three copies of Pride and Prejudice. She’s left-handed but shoots with her right. She—”

“I meant emotionally,” Steph cut in, wagging a finger. “Like… her vibe. Her soul. Her long-term intentions.”

Jason, sprawled sideways in his chair, tossed a peanut into the air and caught it in his mouth without missing a beat. “As long as I get to annoy Dick, I’m in.”

“You’re always in when it comes to annoying Dick,” Tim muttered.

Jason grinned. “Exactly.”

Cass, perched quietly at the end of the booth, looked up from her menu and gave a simple shrug. She hadn’t contributed much—hadn’t even bothered with a disguise—but she didn’t seem eager to leave either. Being around the family was enough for her.

Across the room, Dick brushed your hair behind your ear, leaned close, and murmured something that made you smile wide and laugh softly. It made Jason scowl like he’d bitten into something sour.

“They’re flirting,” he muttered. “Like, real flirting.”

Tim frowned. “Well, yeah. It’s a date.”

“I didn’t think he had that in him,” Jason said. “I mean—look at him. Who laughs like that? It’s so…bright.”

Duke arched a brow. “You mean… what happy people do?”

“Or people in love?” Tim added

Jason blinked. “Exactly. They’re disgusting.”

Stephanie snorted into her fake martini. “God forbid someone in this family finds healthy emotional connection.”

Jason pointed a finger at her. “Hey. I support him. I just don’t want to witness it.”

Cass, quietly perched beside Duke, leaned forward with her chin in her hand and spoke for the first time since returning to the booth. “It’s nice.”

The rest of them looked over at her.

She shrugged, eyes still on the couple across the restaurant. “He’s soft around her. Comfortable. That matters.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Jason muttered, “I liked it better when he was brooding and depressed. At least that made sense.”

“You say that,” Steph quipped, “but we all know you’d cry if he got dumped.”

Jason scoffed. “Tch. As if.”

Cass tilted her head. “You hugged him when his goldfish died.”

“It was a very loyal goldfish,” Jason snapped.

Duke stifled a laugh behind his hand.

Tim was already typing on his phone again. “Logging that. Jason cried over the fish.”

“I did not cry—”

Back at your table, Dick dragged a hand down his face, groaning softly into his palm.

“This was supposed to be a normal date,” he muttered. “No suits. No masks. No siblings playing Mission: Impossible: Wayne Edition.”

You bit back a grin, reaching under the table to squeeze his hand. “You know what this means, right?”

He tilted his head toward you, wariness creasing the corners of his eyes. “That I’m not allowed to have a single nice thing?”

“No,” you said sweetly, lacing your fingers with his. “That they’re deeply invested in your love life.”

He groaned again.

You leaned in conspiratorially, your voice soft, dangerous with mischief. “Should we give them a show?”

There was a pause.

Then a slow smirk curved across his face. It started small—just a twitch at the corner of his mouth—but it bloomed fast, pulling dimples into his cheeks and lighting a mischievous gleam in his blue eyes.

“Oh,” he said, voice low and gleeful, “absolutely.”

His hand tightened around yours, and for a moment, you could almost feel the heat of retaliation rolling off him like sunbeams through stained glass.

“They wanna spy?” he murmured, already sliding his chair a little closer. “Let’s give them something worth watching.”

He looked over his shoulder—right at the table full of Bat-siblings, who immediately scrambled to look inconspicuous. Tim’s newspaper snapped, Jason dropped his toothpick, and Steph turned her martini glass upside down in panic.

Dick turned back to you, grinning like the devil himself. “You ready?”

You lifted your wine glass with a wink. “Always.”

The group didn’t even have time to formulate a new plan—no whispered code words, no exit strategies, not even a dramatic group huddle.

Because across the room, right there in full view of God and Gotham, you and Dick locked lips.

Heatedly.

With both hands cradling your jaw and your fingers curling into his shirt collar like a scene straight out of a romantic drama that was very much not PG-13.

A collective shriek erupted from the Bat-kid table.

“Gross!” Jason choked, nearly falling off his stool as he recoiled like he’d just witnessed a live-action horror movie.

“My eyes!” Tim wailed, throwing his newspaper into the air like it might serve as a spiritual shield. “I can’t unsee that!”

Duke scrambled upright, reaching out like a soldier diving into danger. “Damian, don’t look—!”

Too late.

Damian stood rigid, face twisted into a look of pure betrayal, eyes wide like someone who’d just witnessed a war crime.

“They have no shame,” he said hollowly.

“There are children present!” Duke hissed, pulling his hoodie over Damian’s head like a protective blindfold. “Actual children!”

Across the restaurant, a waiter paused mid-step to observe the scene at the booth. He blinked once, slowly, then turned and walked in the opposite direction without a word.

Stephanie gagged, shoving a napkin over her face. “I knew they were going to do something, but that—that was unholy!”

Cass, on the other hand, leaned forward with a pleased little smile, calmly sipping her water. “They’re cute.”

“No,” Jason said hoarsely. “They’re a menace.”

“They’re a power couple,” Cass countered.

At that moment, Dick finally pulled back, eyes sparkling with self-satisfaction as he rested his forehead gently against yours. You both laughed—softly, smugly—and he didn’t even need to look over his shoulder to know the carnage had taken hold.

“I think I broke Jason,” he whispered.

You grinned. “You definitely traumatized Tim.”

He sighed happily. “Best date night ever.”

[p0orbaby]

magic 8 ball

summary: What starts as Leah crashing your pity pint spirals, predictably, into something far less wholesome and far more hands-on.

warnings: SMUT 18+, just general sex stuff so you know the drill

a/n: i was inspired, not sure by what, but here we are

word count: 2.5k

-

“I’m not having a breakdown,” you say, peeling the label off your beer with such deep concentration you forget you have to breathe to survive. “I’m having a perfectly rational response to the current state of the world. And also to my boss, who thinks ‘relevance’ is when a TikTok account reposts our gallery’s Instagram.”

Leah makes a sound, something between a laugh and a sigh, and slides onto the stool next to you as if she owns the place. She probably does. Or knows someone who does. She’s wearing a camel coat from The Row that looks like it’s never seen a hanger. Soft, fluid, draped like wealth. Her hair is up—one of those deliberately lazy ponytails that costs £80 at a salon and makes people call you effortless like it’s a compliment. She probably just didn’t bother sorting it after training.

She orders a double gin and tonic. Not with Bombay or Tanqueray or any of the pedestrian options available to people who wear polyester and say OOTD. She points, without looking, at a bottle of something artisanal. Something with botanicals. Something brewed by a man with a beard who lives in Hackney and forages moss recreationally while naked.

“You’re twitching,” she says, when the bartender walks away.

“I’m fine,” you reply, tight. “I’m absolutely fucking fine.”

You’re not. You’re vibrating with the same energy as a microwave that’s just been asked to reheat a bowl of leftover soggy chicken chow mein.

Leah squints. “Your eye does this thing when you’re on the brink of homicide. It’s cute, all things considered.”

You think about stabbing her with the cocktail stick that came with the complimentary olives you got when you ordered. Instead, you finish peeling the label. The bar is now covered in neat, sticky curls of Beck’s branding. You take a vicious sort of pride in it—like this bar owes you something and you’re slowly destroying it molecule by molecule.

“I had to explain post-conceptualism to a man who unironically collects Funko Pops today.”

“God.”

“He said, ‘So it’s like Banksy but sadder?’”

“Oh, sweet Jesus.”

“And then he asked me if Damien Hirst invented fruit winders.”

Leah bites her lip to suppress a grin. You hate that she finds this funny.

“I’m in hell,” you say. “I live here now. It’s beige and the lighting’s fluorescent and all the curators wear Balenciaga in the wrong way.”

“There’s a wrong way to wear Balenciaga?”

“Yes. It’s when you do it with sincerity.”

Leah hums, amused. Her drink arrives. She picks it up like she’s in an advert for skincare. You hate her glass. It’s too clean. You hate how she sips, like the liquid is trying to earn her respect. You hate her in general, really. But it’s a specific, curated hate. The kind that comes with longing. Jealousy. Proximity.

“You’re not angry,” she says, “you’re heartbroken.”

“I am not heartbroken.”

“Fine,” she shrugs. “You’re artistically blue-balled.”

That, unfortunately, lands. You clench your jaw. You spent two months assembling an exhibit that got described as visually competent by someone whose own work consists of melting Barbie heads onto coat hooks. The only person who seemed to get it was a caretaker, and even he asked if it was “about feminism or something.”

Leah’s watching you with the sort of curiosity she usually reserves for rare mushrooms or political scandals. You feel exposed, like she’s mentally peeling your skin back to check for rot.

“I just—” You stop. You sip your beer. You stare at its froth like it insulted your mother. “I just want to make something that doesn’t immediately get filtered through someone else’s idiot-brand algorithm of what art is supposed to do. I don’t want it to do anything. I want it to exist. And I want that to be enough.”

There’s a pause. A proper silence. A respectful one.

Then Leah says, “Well. That’s depressing.”

You blink. “Do you ever have a normal human reaction?”

“I do,” she says, “just not to tantrums disguised as philosophies.”

You groan. Loudly. Obnoxiously. “Why are you here?”

She takes another sip, smacks her lips, says: “You texted me the words ‘I hope my body gets mistaken for a performance piece when I die.’ So I cleared my schedule.”

You rub your face. You did text that. You thought it was funny.

“You’re a masochist,” you mutter.

“You’re dramatic.”

You look up at her, eyes narrowed. “You think you’re better than me.”

Leah leans in, her face maddeningly calm. “Sweetheart. I know I am.”

You want to throw something at her. A pint glass. the chair you’re sitting on. Your entire unresolved emotional history. But instead you say, “Do you ever get tired of always being the most emotionally detached person in the room?”

She tilts her head. “Do you ever get tired of pretending your anger is intellectual when really you’re just sad and lonely and catastrophically underfucked?”

You nearly choke on your drink.

“I am not underfucked.”

“I can see how tense your jaw is from here. It’s clenched like a Victorian child repressing her feelings about having to crawl up another chimney. Go home and look at yourself in the mirror. Tell me that’s the face of someone getting railed regularly.”

You want to die. You also want her to say it again, slowly, in private, with less clothing.

There’s a long, crackling pause. You both know it’s no longer about art.

Leah sets down her glass. She taps the rim once, twice. Rhythm. Precision. Her nails are short, square, coated in clear polish that you don’t normally notice but have now because you can’t look her in the eye. Then you catch yourself staring at her hands for too long and quickly look away.

She doesn’t comment. But you know she notices. Leah notices everything. She notices the hair tie on your wrist has snapped and been retied in a knot, twice. She notices you’ve stopped wearing mascara, which you used to call your “armour” in that stupid, performative way you used to talk about beauty like it was actually important. She notices the crack in your lip that won’t heal because you’ve been biting it every time you think too hard.

She says, eventually, almost to herself:

“Right. That’s enough tragic brooding. Come on.”

You glance at her sideways. “Come on what?”

She lifts her chin, shrugs like it’s obvious. “It’s time for the three F’s.”

You blink. “The what?”

“The three F’s,” she repeats, counting them off on one hand like she’s listing dinner party ingredients. “Food. Fucking. And… I haven’t decided on the third one. It’s usually ‘forgiveness’ but tonight it might change depending on my mood or how close you are to bursting into tears.”

You narrow your eyes. “Are you having a stroke?”

Leah ignores this. She taps her temple. “It’s a system. A trifecta. A deeply spiritual practice.”

“Sounds like a religious cult run by Gordon Ramsay.”

She smirks. “Exactly. Chips first. Sex second. Existential clarity optional.”

You stare at her, arms folded. She’s smiling now, that crooked, smug half-smile that suggests she knows she’s funny, even when you want to shove her face into a vat of chip grease.

“You offering?” you ask, dry. “For the second F?”

Leah shrugs again. “No. I saw a homeless man outside and thought you two might hit it off.”

You snort, despite yourself. “You’re a bitch.”

She sips her drink like she’s just said something unremarkable and bureaucratic, like we’ll be closing early due to maintenance. She doesn’t look at you. You’re glad. You’re not ready for the look she gives you when she’s being sincere. It’s like being x-rayed.

Then she adds, almost as an afterthought, “Of course I’m offering. Don’t be daft.”

You freeze. A beat. Another.

“I thought I was a neurotic, emotionally volatile husk of a woman with a martyr complex and an inflated sense of artistic purpose.”

“You are,” she says. “But you’ve got a decent face and you’re good with your hands. So, you know. Swings and roundabouts.”

You scoff. And you’re trying really hard to stay calm because your doctor has informed you your concerningly high blood pressure is a direct correlation of your erratic emotions.

“What happened to chips first?”

“Oh, I still want chips. I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since three and I’m craving something fried and disgusting. Preferably served by someone with a name badge and an attitude problem.”

You nod slowly. “That’s the most grounded thing you’ve said all night.”

“Thank you. I’m a woman of the people.”

She drains her gin and stands, smooth and sudden, like movement happens to her rather than from her. You watch the line of her coat shift across her hips and hate her a little more. In a nice way. A respectful way.

She glances back at you, already heading toward the door. “You coming, or are you going to sit here frowning into warm beer like the ghost of failed gallery interns past?”

You mutter something under your breath and follow. Of course you do. It’s Leah.

It’s always Leah.

-

“You’re making that face again.”

Leah’s looking at you from the other end of the bed—half undressed, half mocking, propped up on her elbow like some god-awful, lesbianised version of a Greek statue who knows exactly how fit she is.

You’re topless and regretting all your life choices. “What face?”

“The one that says, ‘this is a terrible idea but I’m already wet so fuck it.’”

She’s not wrong.

You shoot her a glare and yank your bra off in one not so smooth move. It slaps the floor with the exhausted whimper of cotton that’s held too many disappointing breasts over the years.

“God, you’re hot when you’re angry,” she says, and you want to laugh. Or hit her. Or sit on her face. All three feel valid.

“Shut up and lie down.”

She does. Immediately. The smugness fades slightly, replaced by something quieter. More concentrated. She watches you crawl over her like a lion stalking its prey. Or more realistically like you’re some slow-motion car crash she wants to get hit by.

You kiss her. Sloppy. Unapologetic. More tongue than technique. It’s not romantic. It’s hot. It’s urgent. It tastes like gin and old rage.

Somewhere between biting her lip and grinding down against her thigh, you lose track of how long you’ve been pretending not to want this. Leah’s skin is warm and annoyingly soft. Her bra’s still on. She’s still wearing her bra.

You reach for it, fumbling. “Why are these always like a NASA launch?”

She laughs into your neck. “You’ve never undressed another woman before, have you?”

“Only emotionally.”

You finally get the clasp and she shrugs out of it, tits bouncing slightly. You both pretend not to notice how your brain flatlines for a second. You’re supposed to be cool. You’re supposed to be in control.

But her nipples are hard and you’re throbbing and when she reaches between your legs without warning, you gasp—loud and unedited.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. “Warn a girl.”

“You’ve literally been grinding on my thigh for five minutes.”

“That’s different. That’s friendship.”

Leah slips her hand down your knickers. Finds you soaked. She hums like she’s impressed. Or smug. Probably both.

“Jesus, babe,” she says. “You’re soaked.”

You scoff. “Don’t call me babe. You sound like some weirdo on Love Island.”

“Fine. Darling?”

“Worse.”

“You’re tight when you’re annoyed,” she murmurs, and then pushes two fingers in. Just like that.

You moan. Too loudly. Your hips buck automatically.

“Oh, fuck—”

Leah grins like a wolf. She curls her fingers and your whole spine tries to fold in half.

“Yeah, that’s it,” she says, pumping slow, deliberate, unfair. “There. Right there. Don’t move.”

You immediately move. “Fuck, wait—fuck, there.”

She groans, her forehead pressed to yours. “You’re so annoying.”

You kiss her to shut her up and reach down between her legs. Her knickers are drenched too. You laugh.

“What?” she says, breath hitching.

“Nothing. Just didn’t know England’s golden girl got this wet.”

“I’m a footballer,” she pants, “not a cardinal.”

You pull her knickers aside, push two fingers in easily. She’s hot and slick and all kinds of fuckable. Her eyes roll back for a second. She grabs your arm, anchoring herself. Her nails dig in.

“Oh my god. Keep doing that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Don’t—don’t fucking stop.”

You thrust harder, matching her rhythm, both your hands moving now—sloppy and synchronised. Her hips are rolling. Yours too. There’s swearing. Lots of it. You’re both flushed and swearing and laughing in between grunts.

“Fuck,” she gasps. “Harder.”

You give it to her harder. You give it to her like a promise. Like revenge.

At one point you both reach for each other at the same time and bang foreheads. Loudly.

“Ow,” you groan, blinking.

She’s laughing. “This is the least elegant sex I’ve ever had.”

“Good,” you growl, sucking a bruise into her neck. “I’m not here to be elegant.”

You push her legs wider. You go lower.

“Wait—are you—oh fuck—”

You don’t bother answering. You just get your mouth on her. One long, filthy lick from her entrance to her clit and she arches like she’s being electrocuted.

“Jesus CHRIST,” she chokes. “You’ve done this before.”

You don’t dignify that with a response. You just moan into her cunt and keep going.

Her hand finds your hair and tugs. Not hard. Just enough to make you feel owned.

She’s close. You can feel it. She starts talking like a woman possessed.

“Yes. There. Don’t stop. Don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop—”

You don’t. Of course you don’t. You flatten your tongue and she breaks.

She cums hard, loud, practically shaking, her thighs closing around your head like a vice.

When she collapses, she pulls you up, kisses you like she’ll die if she doesn’t, and flips you over. She doesn’t even hesitate. Her mouth is on you like it’s home. She licks you open, groaning like you’re her favourite meal and she’s been fasting.

“Oh fuck me,” you cry, gripping the headboard like it’s a lifeline.

She hums against your clit. You nearly black out.

“Yeah?” she says, lifting her head. “That good?”

You nod, dazed.

“Use your words.”

“More.”

“More what?”

“More Leah.”

She moans like that’s the final straw and fingers you hard, mouth locked around your clit as if it belongs there. You cum embarrassingly fast. Practically scream. Collapse against the pillow like a dramatic Victorian wife.

There’s a beat. Silence. Both panting.

Then:

“I think I saw god.”

Leah wipes her mouth and shrugs. “Tell her I said hi.”

You both dissolve into hysterical laughter, tangled up and sweaty and slightly horrified.

“So,” you say, catching your breath. “The verdict on the third F?”

She grins. “I think I'll stick with forgiveness. For all the shit we’re about to pretend didn’t just happen.”

You nod. “Fair.”

And then you kiss her again. Because honestly, what else are you going to do?

[avaredava]

Safe word?

Master list's

⯌Sum

You said your safe word and boy does the jjk men freak out.

Satoru Gojo

That man was plunging into you, talking about his day not exactly paying attention to you. It wasn't bad or anything it was a bit weird though because the angrier he got the more rough.

"And this stupid fucking-" thrust "higher up keeps being a total-" thrust "bitches."

It was starting to hurt but seeing the annoyed look in Satorus eye just made you feel bad. So you stayed silent.

But the fact that he also wasn't really giving a shit, just talking about the people he hates and being kinda oblivious to what's happening makes your stomach and heart hurt and not in the good, orgasmic way.

Sex is supposed to be loveable, and sacred not something for fun. Yeah, people might not agree but that's how you and Satoru were.

You start to cry, again, scared of the beast that's plunging into like you're just a pocket pussy. And fuck he takes it the wrong way.

He started pounding faster.

"Stupid fucking slut, you always want more, nothing else. Whore."

The fact that's the only thing he's really said to you the whole time, and it was a mean thing, you just start to sob and a cracked up safe word comes out.

He pulls out instantly. He was checking your face and body, then something truely shook him to his core his the bit of blood on his cock.

"Fuck baby, I'm so, so sorry." And what really made him gasp was when you flinched away when he tried to touch you.

"Listen do you want anything? Maybe a hot bath and a massage or cuddles? If you don't want me here I understand, I would either so-"

You giggle at his rambling and a bit of pressure comes off his chest but he's still extremely stressed and worried. But it's for you this time.

"Maybe a bath and you in it for cuddles..."

You never seen that man run that fast. And just because he accidentally hurt you, you knew he's never gonna do something that ever again. The fear in his eyes? That made you know he loves you to the very deep of his heart.

After all, you're his girl.

Nanami Kento

Nanami Kento is never rough. That man is scared to break you with one touch. He treats you like a porcelain doll. Hence the nickname doll he has for you.

He treats you like an absolute princess, no queen. And the sex is even better, constantly checking in and out with you.

It's so intimate.

And you love every god damn second. He touches you in places you wouldn't know felt good.

You're ovulating right now and he has a long ass work trip. And you have bad ovulations and Nanami always takes care of you.

But since he was leaving soon you couldn't have him for a while. So you need him now, and make sure you're well taken care of and you won't need him frequently.

So he decided to have a long ass sex session, to the point where your crying of overstimulation. But in the best way possible. So that's what he did. Or tried.

Mid sex when his thick cock was rubbing against your g-spot and slowly going to your cervix, the deep lust, loving look in his eyes made your thighs shake and breath get shallow mere seconds from sharp breathing.

Your eyes were squeezed shut as his hands were moving up and down your body as he rubbed your nipples and massaged your hips.

God this was great.

Until a ring from his boss came through. He answers and his voice was formal as his hand was wrapped around your throat gently making sure you stay quiet.

His thrusts began to become more deep, he started to kinda zone out. But it felt too good and you started have breathy moans.

And they started to get louder.

And louder...

Until he was so in his call and he needed you to shut up he wrapped his hand around your throat too hard. You started to have breathing problems but you kinda kept moaning too.

He just thought it was just you being pleasured so he wrapped his arm around tighter. And now you couldn't talk. And you started to get fucking scared. Your arms are pinned down so you couldn't move.

You choked up your safe word. But he didn't hear, and you started to panic. You started to mildly scream, and he looked down and quickly hung up and let out.

You started to have a raspy cry. He quickly pulled out and threw his phone. He quickly realized the bruising on your neck. He kissed all over your neck and when you flinched he practically threw himself back.

He pulled you on his lap and bounced you on it. "You're on sex ban Nanami."

"Okay."

He held you so close, fuck he could live without sex but he couldn't live with out you. And he whispered that all night. Making sure you knew that. Also he did absolutely not go on that work trip. He stayed in bed with you.

He didn't give a shit about his stupid job. He gave so many stupid shits about you though.

Toji Fushiguro

Disrespect Toji? You're gonna get punished.

And you were a little shit sometimes, and you knew that. He usually just fucks you for hours. And you love it. But he realized it's not teaching you anything much so he has a new strategy.

He decided to slap that cute ass. He was repeatedly hitting just making you moan and squirm. He did some slaps as his fingers plunged his fingers in and out.

But once again you loved it. The little bit of pain and his muscular fingers massaging you g-spot over and over. So of course you were about to cum. So he edged you a bunch.

That wasn't too bad. And of course you liked it. So he took his fingers fully out and you whined. He started to slap again.

The room was dim with light and he was sitting on the edge of the bed with you're draped over his lap. And of course your ass is up.

He realized you're still moaning so he started slapping harder... And harder.

Until it was starting to sting and you began whinging. He started to slap harder because he thought you were enjoying.

You let out little ows with tears in your eyes. He laughed.

"You deserve it. Dumb bitch."

That just cracked your heart open so you let out a little broken safe work softly repeated over and over. And when he stopped you kept mumbling it.

He knew he fucked up.

When you barely reacted to him gently saying your name it took him a few seconds to look down from your face and it hit him that your ass is red and covered with deep purple bruises.

He pulled the cover over both of you. And he went under it. He was gently kissing the burning sensation covering your butt and it made you melt feeling the warmness of lips fluttering over your ass made you smile to sleep.

The next morning he was pretending like nothing happened. But you realized he also put massage oils on your ass and also massaged it, duh. It didn't hurt.

And he denied the fact that you felt small wet droplets falling on your ass when he was kissing it.

Suguru Geto

Suguru Geto was obsessed with eating you out.

So that is why he is eating you out with the fullest of the top notch pussy eating. Making out with it like he hasn't seen it in years, even though he was doing the same thing last night.

And it never gets worse. Somehow it gets better.

He's always just sucking and licking. He never goes beyond. And you don't want to go further either.

But tonight he was stressed and pissed off. And he needed something to cool down, you. Your sweet pussy, it just relaxes him.

And of course you allow it.

So now he has your knees pinned to your breasts being held down as his tongue quickly moves up and down your folds. Then in between. Basically everywhere.

That man couldn't get enough of your taste. But something weird was happening. It isn't that he's not enjoying it, but it wasn't as sensual as he usually is.

But it still feels good and he is stressed so you let it happen. But unfortunately he gets to rough.

He starts biting.

It was innocent nips and then harsh sucks on your clit, so it felt good. But then he started actually biting, especially right at your sensitive nub. You start whimpering and crying.

"Close?" He mumbles. But it made your insides cringe. You start pulling at his hair and he loves it so he starts biting rougher, until you say your safe word before it got too bad.

He pulled away and looked down, it was a light red dusted all over your folds. Your clit was all swollen. It wasn't too bad but he could tell it was gonna get worse. So he still felt bad.

He was mumbling about how immature he is and how he can't control himself, but he was so tired he fell asleep massaging your folds with his face squished in your boobs.

This man.

_

Sukuna's from a couple weeks ago

[mytherapyisreading14]

Hey could you write a fic with post prison Reid where the reader has a crush on him and she doesn’t think he likes her so she keeps it to herself and when they are on a case she she’s Spencer manhandle the unsub and she gets kinda distracted because she wants him to manhandle her and then he finds out about her crush and then he kinda teases her about it then he fucks her like really rough sorry if that doesn’t make sense 😭 also could you make the reader have a thing for his hands lmao

Don‘t get Distracted

Summary: You got distracted when Spencer arrested the UnSub during your current case - he noticed and confronts you back in the hotel.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Smut, some Fluff (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: Mentions of Knifes and stabbing, dirty talk, kissing, making out, unprotected sex (don’t do that), choking, spanking, orgasm denial, dom!spencer (kinda)

Word Count: 2,9k

Author’s Note: I’m sorry it took me so long to finish this🫢 I never really liked a single version I wrote and now I simply give up, I’ll leave it like this😩 Anyway, I hope you like it! :)

It isn't like you are trying to fall for Spencer Reid. In fact, you do your absolute best not to. You keep it professional. Friendly. Safe. Because if there is one thing you are sure of, it is that he doesn't feel the same. It isn't anything he does. He isn't cold or rude to you. Quite the opposite – he is kind and polite. But never more than that.

You aren't the type to be noticed by someone like him. Not after everything that happened. Prison changed him, and if there is ever a chance he looked your way before, it is long gone now. So you keep your crush a secret, but some days make that harder than others. Like tonight.

You sit on the edge of the bed, files spread all around you, but your focus is on Spencer. He stands by the window, arms crossed, eyes scanning the city below. You can tell he is thinking. He looks tense. Focused. Hot.

And all you want is to be close to him. To touch him. To tell him you noticed the way his smiles have grown rarer since prison, and that you missed them. That you missed him. But you don't.

-

The next day, everything shifts. You are closing in on the case, currently on the way to arrest the UnSub. The farmhouse where he is holed up looks like it could collapse any second. You, Spencer, and Morgan decided to split up. You take the back and step over a few broken door frames, your flashlight shining in the dark. A few minutes later you hear a noise.

You recognize it’s Spencer’s. "I need you to put down the knife. Now." You sprint toward the voices, and what you see nearly stops your heart. The UnSub takes a step forward and tries to stab Spencer in the stomach. But Spencer, he is faster. He sidesteps, catches the man’s wrist, twists it back, and then shoves him up against the wall with a force that makes you shiver.

One arm locks the guy in place, while the other brings out the cuffs. He works quick and controlled. And god, you are not okay... Your feet move on autopilot, but your brain doesn't. You can barely think past the rush of heat that explodes inside you at the sight of him. It is like watching a completely different version of him. You stare and just can’t look away.

He turns to you when it’s over. "You okay?" he asks. "Uh—yeah," you manage to breathe out. "I’m fine. Just... Didn’t know you have that in you." His mouth twitches into something between a smile and a smirk for a second. "Prison teaches you a few things." You try to play it cool. You really do. But your cheeks are already burning.

-

Back at the hotel, you tell yourself to forget it. That it’s just adrenaline. That the reason you’re so flushed has nothing to do with Spencer’s hands and everything to do with the takedown. Yeah, sure.

You avoid him the rest of the evening. Bury yourself in reports, avoid eye contact at dinner. Because the idea that you’ve reacted so obviously… and that he might’ve noticed? Absolutely mortifying. So when there’s a knock at your door around 10 p.m., the last person you expect to see is him.

“Spencer?” you blink. He stands there, holding two cups of tea like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I figured you might need a distraction,” he says. “The last few days were intense.” You hesitate. Just for a second. Because what is he doing here? Still, you step aside. “Yeah. Uh… thanks.”

He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, hands you the tea, and for a while it’s quiet. Then he breaks the silence. “So… you were staring.” You freeze mid-sip. “What?” you ask, trying to act confused. “At the farmhouse.” He turns his head, watching you. “You looked surprised. And a little… flustered.”

“I was not—” you start, but he interrupts you. “You were,” he says, and this time there’s something different in his voice. He’s teasing you. “And then Garcia texted me something… interesting.” Oh god. You already know what’s coming. “No,” you say, but he nods, clearly enjoying himself.

“She said you made a comment about me. Something along the lines of… ‘if Spencer ever wants to manhandle me like that, he can.’” You nearly drop the tea. “She did not say that to you,” you say. “She did,” he says with a smirk. You think about an excuse, anything that might save you from total humiliation. “That is—I mean—I don’t mean it like—”.

He tilts his head. “Don’t you?” You blink at him. “I - no, and I… I think you don’t even like me like that.” His expression softens instantly. The teasing fades, just enough for something real to shine through. “What makes you think that?” he asks gently. You shrug, suddenly very aware of how close he’s sitting next to you. “I don’t know. You never… looked at me that way. You always seem kind of... distant.”

Spencer is quiet for a moment. “Yeah. I guess I do.” He looks down at his tea, then back at you. “The truth is… after prison, it was hard to let anyone in. I didn’t feel like myself. I did really trust myself for a while. So I kept my distance.” He pauses. “Maybe I was trying too hard not to look at you that way.”

That shuts your brain down completely. “You were?” you whisper. He nods once. “Ever since I got back. Maybe even before that.” You didn’t expect that, but when his words settle, you grin. “So… what now?” you ask him. He leans in, eyes flicking to your lips for just a second. “Still want me to manhandle you?” he asks with a smirk back in full force. “Spencer!” you say, blushing and playfully hitting his arm.

He laughs and sets his tea aside, hand brushing your knee as he stands. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You stare up at him, still sitting on the bed, heart pounding against your ribs. He is looking at you differently now. “You’re seriously enjoying this,” you say with a shaky voice. “Enjoying what?” he asks, acting oblivious. “Teasing me,” you say, and his smile widens.

“Of course I do.” You roll your eyes playfully. “You’re insufferable,” you say. “Maybe,” he murmurs. “But you still want to kiss me.” You open your mouth, probably to deny it - or argue - or make some sarcastic remark, but nothing comes out. Because he’s already leaning down. And then, finally, his lips brush against yours. It’s barely there at first, but the moment you kiss him back, everything shifts.

His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, thumb tracing your cheekbone as his mouth moves against yours. You let out a quiet sound you don’t mean to, fingers curling into his shirt, and that’s all it takes for the kiss to deepen. Spencer’s other hand finds your waist, pulling you closer against him and the heat between you is impossible to ignore now.

His lips part slightly against yours, breath hitching when your hand slides up to his neck. The kiss turns messier then, hungrier. Like all the months of silence snap at once, and now there’s no holding back. He exhales against your lips. “You have no idea how long I wanted to do this,” he admits. “Try me,” you whisper, and he kisses you again, harder this time.

You gasp softly as he guides you back onto the bed, one hand bracing beside your head, the other trailing along your waist. His body hovers over yours. His lips ghost down to your jaw, then just below your ear. Your fingers tangle in his shirt, desperate to keep him close, to make this real.

“Spencer,” you breathe out while his hand is sliding under the hem of your shirt, your legs brushing against his. He pulls back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze. “Tell me you want this,” he says, voice rough and low, “tell me you want me to fuck you.” You look up at him, skin flushed, chest rising and falling in sync with his. “Please Spencer,” you whisper, “I - I need you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me hard. Now.“

For a heartbeat, he doesn’t move. Just stares at you like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you — like he can’t quite believe this is real. Then he leans down and kisses you again. "If at any point it gets too much for you, just let me know. I don't want to hurt you," he says with a worried look when he pulls back again.

A feeling of warmth and security spreads through you. "You look cute when you're worried," you tease him. "but I don't break easily,“ you say and wink. Then his hands are back on your waist, your back, your skin — everywhere at once. You can’t stop touching him, can’t get close enough to him.

The tension between you, held back for so long, finally melts into heat, passion, pleasure and love. His fingers hook around the hem of your pants and he pulls them off in one quick motion. Your top comes off next, then your bra and panties, that are already soaked through. His eyes trail over your body hungrily and he starts to kiss down your neck slowly.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he whispers in your ear and a shiver runs down your spine. His words and all the kisses make you even more desperate and you can’t help but buck your hips against him. You can feel his erection and want more but he pushes your hips back down. “Someone’s needy,” he says, not giving you what you want yet. “Spencer, please. Don’t make me wait,” you whimper and he chuckles.

He keeps kissing down your body - your breasts first, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You observe his actions and seeing his big, slender hand around your breasts is a sight you didn’t expect to enjoy this much. You moan his name and he looks up and follows your gaze. “Like what you see, angel?” he asks and you nod. His hands continue to roam over your body, down to your stomach and between your thighs.

He keeps his eyes on you, observing every little reaction before he finally runs his fingers through your folds. “So wet, is this all for me?” he asks and you nod. “Words, angel. Tell me how good I make you feel,” he says, stopping for a moment. “Y-yes. All for you,” you breath out and he looks satisfied.

With one finger he starts to trail circles around your clit, slowly applying more and more pressure before slipping a finger in. It feels so good and you cover your mouth with your hand in order to stop meaning out loudly. Spencer however doesn’t like it, he immediately reaches for your hand and pulls it off. “No, don’t do that. I want to hear you moan for me for me angel.”

He adds another finger and starts to pump them in and out faster, keeping one finger on your clit the whole time. You can’t help but lean forward to watch his hand again, knuckles buried deep inside you. “Looks like my hands are quite a distraction to you,” he says and chuckles again before his other hand wraps around your throat, squeezing just perfectly.

You don’t respond, too focused on the pleasure and how good his hand looks buried inside you. With the sight in front of you, the feeling of his fingers inside you and his hand wrapped around your throat it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build up. Your legs start to shake slightly and you clench around Spencers fingers. You’re almost there when he suddenly pulls out. You whine. “Spencer, what the hell are you doing? I was so close!” you curse.

“I know. But I to feel you come around my cock,” he says before he starts to take his clothes off. When he unbuttons his pants your eyes widen. He’s certainly bigger than you expected. He starts to stroke his cock and you can’t help but watch him. Even though you can’t wait to feel him inside you, you enjoy watching him. Then he leans down and spreads your legs further apart.

He lines himself up at your entrance, sliding through your wet folds and teasing your clit again before he finally pushes inside you. “So tight and wet for me, angel. You’re all mine now,” he says. He gives you some time to adjust before he starts to pound into you. He leans down next, sucking on your neck and breasts, leaving hickeys everywhere and claiming you as his.

The room is filled with your moans and whimpers and when Spencer looks down and sees his cock sliding in and out of you he groans. You wouldn't have thought that something could turn you on even more, but hearing him groan certainly did. “Oh god, so good. Pl - please, don’t stop,” you manage to breath out, your mind already lost in all the pleasure.

His grip on your hips tightens and he increases his pace. He can feel you clench around him and almost feels bad for what he’s about to do. He applies pressure on your clit again, playing close attention to your reactions and when your close again he pulls out of you. “A- Again? Are you fucking serious?” you ask furiously. You can tell he enjoys the control he has over you. “I hate you so much right now,” you say but he just grins.

“Say it like you mean it,” he says before he suddenly grabs you and flips you over. You’re on all fours now, ass up in the air facing him. He immediately slides back into you, pounding into you hard from behind and hitting new angles and reaching spots you never could. One of his hand slides up your back and into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail and pulling hard.

Your back arches up and you can feel your body pressed against his. His other hand suddenly comes down on your ass, spanking you. You moan out his name so loud that you’re afraid your neighbours know now what you’re doing in here, but you don’t really care. “That’s what you wanted, am I right? For me to fuck you? To spank you?” Your eyes roll back in pleasure and you’re too overwhelmed to answer him.

Spencer how ever doesn‘t like that. The hand he just hand in your hair goes down to your throat again while he gives you an another spank. “Answer me,” he says and slows down, pressing you against his body and leaning down next to your ear. “Tell me how much you love this,” he whispers in your ear. “I- I love this. I love it when you fuck me hard, Spencer,” you say quickly, afraid that he’ll not let you come at all if you don’t.

“Good girl,” he says and kisses the spot behind your ear gently before he picks up his pace again. You can feel him twitch inside you, telling you that he’s getting close now too. “I’m gonna tell you when you’re allowed to come. I want us to come together, do you understand?” he asks as if he’s read your thoughts. “Yes,” you breath out quickly before you get too lost in the pleasure again.

He thrusts into you again a few times before he slides his hand forward, teasing your clit with his fingers again. “Come for me, angel. Now,” he says and you let go. Your orgasm crashes over you and you never had one this intense before. You can feel him twitch inside you before he finishes too. For a second you see stars. When you finally come down, he lets go of you and slides out.

You lay down together, completely out of breath and he pulls you in his arms. Neither of you say a word but he holds you close to him, gently stroking your hair. It’s a quiet, peaceful moment but after a while Spencer speaks up. “You should go to the toilet now. I don’t want you to get UTIs,” he says and you groan. “You know how to ruin a moment, don’t you Dr. Reid?” you joke and he laughs.

“I’m just worried about your health, angel,” he says and leans down to kiss your head. “We can still cuddle when you come back, okay?” he says and you smile. “Definitely. You don’t get rid of me that easily,” you tease him. “Good. Because I don’t want to. Now hurry, I want you back in my arms.”

[adonisbeloveds]

The Main Twisteds being jealous that you're trying to farm for Bassie.

Based off my lovely lovely experience of trying to get Bassie only to get EVERY SINGLE MAIN TWISTED AT LEAST 3 TIMES IN 3 DAYS. Anyway, yes I am alive hello hello, and apologise if any of the twisteds personalitys are not like the canon ones because I suck at writing in character! Reader is GN and doesn't use any pronouns, and Vee, Shelly and pebble are all meant to be seen as platonic. Also you can view them as yanderes or just really possessive.

ASTRO

"Please be- .....you're not Bassie." "Starlight..."

.Stay's as close to you as he can, he already know's who you are looking for -- and so do the rest of the mains. It's not like they hold any personal problems with Bassie, it's merely because they knew you first is all. .Remeber his old blanket? He makes sure that it's always wrapped around you, so when you leave and possible see Bassie -- at least she will know who you are close with. .With the way his hat moves I like to think it's either because A) he can control it or B) it has a mind of it's own -- either way it always ends up wrapping around you when you do the machine's, not that he minds though. you do astro please remove it the Ichor is staining your clothes for the 40th time. "Cuddles? Like we use to?" "Astro you always stain my shirts black with the amount of Ichor-" "......" "Sigh, Fine..." .Four arms equal 4 times the comfort of cuddles, and wrapped in his old blanket? It could almost make you forget about your whole Bassie situation. sadly it didn't but hopefully soon you will finally give up and sleep with him like you use to. .What happens when both him and Bassie are on the same floor? Well you barely see Bassie, it seems like he made it his life mission to keep you two apart whenever he could. .You also swear you hear him grumble everytime you pick up research labled as Bassie's, but at this point you can't distinguish between grumbles and weird purring noises he makes. "You are awfully clingly this time around" "mmm...." "That wasn't an invitation-" "......" "...You know I can't stay mad at you, you cuddlebug" "Mhm.."

VEE

"Vee...Vee this is the 7th time, the 7th time you have shown up." "We can make it 8th" .My darling Vee, the one who never frigging left me -- appeared so many times I got her to 100% in 2 days and she wasn't even on the board once. .She's already standing there when the elevator opens, already waiting for you -- and before you can even get a word in her tail is wrapping around you and she's walking off. "Come on Vee, put me down" "mmmm, nope" .She's talking your ear off about everything and anything, as long as your attention is on her she's over the moon -- though she rarely shows it. .She likes to tease you, with her being insanely taller than you, she uses it to her advantage -- but if she genuinely makes you upset about it she's quick to stop, even throughout all the fun she would never want you to be upset over something she did. .If you compliment her in any way her screen will bug out for a moment before she thanks you -- her voice a bit staticky. Of course you have complimented her before, and so have others, it's just she hasn't had much compliments in this form yet is all. .Somehow she always knows where you are -- what floor you're on, where you are in a blackout, even if she can't make it to the elevator before it arrives, she eventually finds you and picks you up. .You have a small suspicion it's because of her ability but at the same time she's been near you so much you've started to think she's just learn't your habbits. "Do you think I could play games on your screen" "I wouldn't let you test it" "You so would though" "....You might get a virus." "Aw man" .Unlike the others, Vee doesn't really care for Bassie -- in the sense that she won't try to take you to the other side of the map to be away from her. .What she will do though is stay very close to you -- sure you can go to Bassie for whatever reason but make sure to keep your main attention on her, she isn't as possessive as the others. .That's the biggest lie ever, you just don't need to know that or the fact she purposefully kept Bassie off the floors for so long. .If you do spend to much time focusing on Bassie you would hear a sound that's almost like a computer overheating, when you check on Vee she simply raises an eyebrow at your question before saying it's a silly idea, even though both of you can feel heat radiating off her. "Come on, she isn't that bad!" "I know my show star, but that doesn't matter"

SHELLY

"rrrrrr....." "No way, and what happened next?" .Unlike the others Shelly at least tries to help you with the machine, as she tells you -- or at least tries to tell you -- about everything and anything. .In blackouts she makes sure to stay close so you don't bump into anything -- even though she isn't as tall as the other main's, and is usually hunched over, she will try to stand as tall as she can while observing the area. .She love's it when you talk, whether you are talking about something, simply humming or just saying random words. Shelly love's the sound of your voice, and if you don't speak? She just love's being around you, it always makes her tail wag no matter what you do! "How does your tail wag if its just your spine?" "rrrrhhhh?" "Yeah I figured" .She really doesn't like sharing your attention, and it's only worse when you are actively looking for someone else. Don't get it wrong! Deep down she knows it isn't Bassie's fault, but her more protective mindset always seems to win her over. .She use to only growl or roar whenever someone went a little to close to you, but lately she's seem to pick up the habbit of biting people when she gets really mad, causing you to drop everything you are doing and running over to her. .You can't possible decide if she's doing it on purpose for your attention or doing it from protectiveness -- at this point you are more than convinced its at least a bit of both. "I- Shelly- Shelly no- no doN'T BITE HER SHELLY-" "Rrrrr."

SPROUT

"ahusfjhasfhassa" "Sprout I love you dearly but please put me down, the tendrils are cold and wet and-" "hasfsafhhas" "....that didn't mean hold me-" .You thought the others were clingy? Well get ready for mr overprotective here -- he doesn't want you leaving his line of sight, no matter what. .Hmm? You want to collect baskets for the...easter toons? Oh, well it's okay, he can...sort of help with that -- I mean you are only trying to make new friends is all. just don't talk about them to much, he's trying to hold back his possessiveness towards you but he doesn't know how much longer he can take .He can't necessarily voice his complaints but he can sure as hell try, from grumbles to simply picking you up and holding you as close as he could -- he could try to keep you away from the baskets and other twisteds but you seem so adamant about them. .No worries though, he can simply use his tendrils to carefully pick you up and hold you above -- making sure you can't get whatever it is you wanted. You don't like how they feel? No worry! He doesn't mind holding you the whole time. "Sprout, you're like...breathing down my neck right now-" "hsdfiajeidfng" "I just want the baskets..." "Hisdjmfkd!" "I thank you for wanting to bake for me, but I think the ichor would contaminate it-" .God forbid Bassie is on the same floor as you two, there's no way you are even touching the ground with how possessive he becomes -- scarf wrapped around and everything! .What do you mean you need to see Bassie? Don't you know how dangerous it is? and what if he loses sight of you? what if you get hurt, what if- no, the simple answer is no. .But please don't get mad at him! He can't help it! He just wants to protect you is all, it's simply out of his control what happens! "....." "....dfgrf?" "Hmph...." "iodkfjgddf?" "....ugh I can't do this silent treatment anymore, just behave okay?" "sjdngd!"

PEBBLE

"Pebble no- bad dog." "Don't whine at me that's called guilt tripping" .Have you ever wanted a guard dog before? Well now you have a very large and very vicious guard dog, yay! .He's such a happy boy, tail's wagging, he's almost trotting from happiness but that all goes down hill when he notices you paying more attention to the easter twisteds than him. .This causes very loud whining -- the only warning you get before you're jumped by him, causing the both of you to fall down and for him to stay on top of you. not to hard he would never want to hurt his favorite caretaker! .Now you have to play fetch with him! and give him treats galore! Just make sure there's no one around -- he WILL trample over them just to get to you even if you tell him to stop. "I'm such a good pet owner aren't I? Much better than Dandy who can't keep his DOG ON A LEASH" "Pebble with how fast you wag your tail you are going to knock someone out with it, or worse because it's a rock" .You already know Bassie's on the same floor, you can hear his growling and barking from a mile away -- be sure to get to him quickly or else he might just attack the poor basket. .When you get there it's almost like he was never angry -- kew word almost, if it wasn't for the fact he picked you up by the back of your shirt and bringing you somewhere far away from her. .When the two of you are far enough he puts you down before laying his head in your lap and very politely asking for pats for protecting you like a good boy! "Peb-Pebble do not growl and Bassie she didn't do anything wrong-" "PEBBLE PUT ME DOWN YOUR TEETH WILL RIP MY SHIRT"

DANDY

"....okay so I can explain-" "You purposefully wanted this, not that I'm complaining my flower!" .If you were anyone else you would of had a heart attack when you heard Dandy's music coming towards you at max speed -- but you aren't anyone else, and you already know how much favoritism leaks out of that flower. .Whenever you finish a machine -- you are always faced with a smiling rainbow face, his sharp teeth would probably scare others to death but you've seen it so many times it's become normal. .Such a patient gentleman he is, waiting for your signal before pouncing onto of you -- still being mindful of the tapes sticking out of him, making sure none of them accidentally scrape you. "You are such a cat" "Nope! I wouldn't say 'cat'..." "Dandy, you are literally kneading into me." .As long as you give him full permission he will knead on every spot on your body, of course he's careful of his claws -- he would never hurt you. .At most floors you wouldn't even know Bassie was there if it wasn't for her flowers on the ground. Instead of the others avoiding her it seems like she's avoiding you -- well, not YOU persay, rather the toon that follows you. .Say you finally get to see her, you immediately sense the tension in the air before watching Bassie run away as fast as she could on her four, yet small 'legs'. .Turning your attention to Dandy you witness the most deadliest side eye you have ever seen. If this is how he acts when she's not even close to you guys, you think it's best off that you don't get close to her. .You would want the Ichor to be the physical bad thing that's happened in her life. "omg stop giving the poor girl the side eye" "Hmm? I'm not." "'I'm not a cat' my ass, your eyes literally just dilated when you looked at me."

[fafodill]

The exact wording of the ask I got was: 'what if someone was asking deprived!Snape (read my whole essay about him) to "break them off a piece of that KitKat bar?" How would they go about it?'

So today we're going to discuss this. Buckle up people.✨

SO his reaction will largely depend on the context and their current relationship but one thing that will happen FOR SURE every time before anything else is that he's going to think they're messing with him.

What else could it be? This man had been so heavily bullied as a teen his self-esteem is buried and has its own tombstone.

"Here lies Snape's self-image. Spit to pay your respect."

We don't have any canon proof of it happening but many people headcanon that some of the bullying might have been people being dared to come up to him and fake attraction or compliment him (so funny omg) only for him to realize they were just messing with him. It's totally the kind of immature stupid shit kids will come up with (speaking from personal experience here). Not funny but deeply scarring for one's self-image. So being told he's attractive would trigger him in his adult life. Any potential suitor asking him out would be welcomed with him immediately closing up and getting angry at them. They'd need to find a way for him to believe them first.

If you're thinking "this already sounds like a pain", yes it is. Welcome to deprived!Snape. Welcome to Snape, basically. If they want a piece of him, they have to brace themselves for the long run.

He will get angry and leave a lot. Fleeing the situation - since it's a very vulnerable subject for him - will be his go-to move. The whole ordeal will require patience. So what should this person do?

Friend or Stranger?

If it comes from a DE he'll think it's an angle. If it's from a member of the Order, he'll think it's a joke. If it's from a colleague at Hogwarts, he maaaay be a tad less suspicious? In any case, it will depend on how close they are. The more time they have spent together, the closer he'll be to not flip out... too much.

I'm a bit torn about his reaction if it was coming from a stranger. Either it's easier because he can lean into the idea that maybe they're lying about their attraction and he doesn't care (and if he's horny then why the fuck not, it won't affect him as much since they both now they're here for physical release) OR he might not be into it at all because he actually needs a real connection (and I think this is more realistic). Severus is a feral cat, he needs time to trust people.

What else? He could also maybe open up faster with someone not from his usual inner circles (a foreigner or a muggle) as the interactions wouldn't be charged with the same deep-rooted habits and expectations.

I also believe he'd unconsciously feel way more at ease with someone coming from a modest background. A pureblood aristocrat hitting on him would have little chance of getting past his natural distrust of them (unless he knows them very well).

So what should they do?

Build trust

The quality of their interactions and conversations will have a huge impact. Do they have an interesting personality? He needs someone capable of taking him on and keeping up intellectually. Can they keep up with him and challenge him?

Severus has a temper. Can they deal with his bullshit and not give up on him at the first scowl? Argue with him? It doesn't mean they can't be nice, but I don't see him get worked up over someone cowering under his gaze.

They need to be stubborn. He's a Capricorn and he's got the horns. He's hard-headed. They need to not back down when he bites or dismisses their attempts at flirting. One of Severus's classic tactic is to hurt people so they leave him alone, so they need to be able to dodge the attack, make fun of him or retaliate.

If they manage to deal with his temper, they will start to see what's on the other side of the snarky exterior. Then, they'll be able to start kneading the dough (Severus is the dough).

Convince him the attraction is real

That person could go the gentle/honest way, assuring him they're not kidding and explaining what they find attractive about him (he'd be super wary and need days to digest it - if he can). Genuine compliments could work quite well as he's good at reading people but it would be a process and it shouldn't be too much at once. He's NOT USED to compliments so if the person goes too hard, he's going to get overwhelmed, distance himself and reject it. A good trick would be to compliment his intelligence and magical skills alongside physical traits. A 2/3-1/3 ratio would be a good start. He would trust compliments about his big brain way more than anything regarding his cute butt.

Complimenting his presence, aura, voice might be good too as it's not directly related to physical traits. Else, physical starters could include hands and eyes. But I also love the idea of taking him by surprise and complimenting his nose. Might weird him out in a good way.

Or they could go the blunt way (or what I now refer to in my mind as the @maxdibert way) and be like "dude, I really think you're hot, deal with it" and leave him to sort his feelings out like a big boy.

The two strategies can be mixed of course. But at the end of the day, the real problem is that Severus as approximately a thousand confirmation bias in his mind telling him this is not happening. So what could they do to help ease this process?

Make him horny

Less overthinking = more chances to get this piece of ass.

Severus Snape needs to be warmed up. And as stated in my previous essay, he's plagued with the core beliefs that he's ugly, ridicule and undeserving. These beliefs need to be kneaded and challenged enough (not healed, this would take decades and it's not their job), so that he can relax and open up to the idea of intimacy.

Here are a few strategies to do so.

First, de-dramatize the subject. Making the topic less taboo by talking about it in a lighthearted way (no flaunting! certainly not!). A good move would be to joke about it. Deprived!Snape isn't comfortable with the subject but it's because it's evaded him and then he convinced himself he wasn't concerned or interested.

-> Here are some of the things he could benefit from hearing: that sex is not a big deal at all and we can laugh about it. It should be fun, a shared moment, trials and errors are part of it and there should no be judgment about experiences and preferences. People with a high 'body count' aren't necessarily good lovers, it's all about presence and intent etc.

His potential partner could share funny mishaps that happened to them and - when there's an opening - ask him what he would expect from a pleasant intimate moment (that's a very advanced move, don't forget he's bad with words)(it would only work in my opinion if they're both drunk and have been going at it for a while).

Also sharing experiences is a great way to build trust and intimacy (and arousal). He thrives on knowledge so learning more about his potential partner might ease his mind in some way (and give him some free intrusive thoughts). See it as added ingredients to make him simmer.

Though they shouldn't talk too much about the number of partners they had and said partner's skills. This might make him retreat. Again: low self-esteem and always on the lookout for an excuse to sabotage it.

Wait what about drunk!Snape you say? That's a trope we enjoy around here. Although I headcanon him as not being a heavy drinker (if a drinker at all because of his father) it would be a great way to lower a bit his inhibition. A DE would have a hard time sharing a drink with him, same for an Order member (he never stays after meetings but could be coerced), but a colleague could maybe drag him to the Three Broomsticks with other members of the staff and then leave early with him. wink wink Come on, rub his foot under the table and look at him choke on his ale. He'll skin you alive with his eyes and you can just raise a suggestive eyebrow back.

Persistence, persistence.

Of course a bit of physical baiting could help with his dusty libido. After all, they'd kinda be dealing with an teenager, experience-wise. Nothing too bold (though I headcanon that his sooty Cokeworth self would get way more worked up over unabashed desire than delicate courting but he's buried a bit too deep at the moment) but a nice cleavage, some leg showing, a fitting pair of pants or robes might not be a bad move. Since he might be uncomfortable with words, they could flaunt the goods in his face! The man has eyes, let him look and scold himself for looking. Also a few heavy looks, biting a lip and lingering fingers could go a long way for such a deprived man, especially if it's directed at him.

At the end of the day, the trick is to make him able to put his worry aside (or snap, if you find the word sexier).

They could go the provocative way, being insufferable and making him want to shut them up.

They could try some endless teasing until he's a lost hot mess, unable to express what he wants except by going 'fuck it' and going for it.

They could go slower and create a safe space with a weekly ritual (every Friday night meeting for a drink/to grade essays/to hang out) which can lead to a late night snog (floating candles optional).

They could be blunt and go 'I want to kiss you so bad right now' as they leave Hogsmeade together and are walking on the dirt path towards the castle. A gust of wind will prevent him from hiding himself behind his hair and they'll see the flush creeping on his face.

They could hammer the compliments and validation, because Severus craves recognition (is there a praise kink in there? yes). So first it could be his mind, his work, his skills... then the way his cape suits his frame so well, his silky voice... and then bam, hitting the nail on the head with complimenting his mouth. Blabbering mess guaranteed. Might flee but blush deliciously. Or might stop dead in his track and then it's time for them to claim these lips.

Kissing

Clumsy. Tentative. Awkward.

But earnest.

He might freeze at first. Wait, these lips knew how to do that once upon a time... how does it go again? He'll need a bit of time to remember but the best way to (re)learn is practice.

It will be a lot for him. As he's extremely touch-deprived he'd be literally rediscovering human contact. So much to feel, the supple of the lips, their shape, the softness, the wetness.

Honestly, deprived!Snape could get really worked up just from kissing.

(They could honestly make him cum just from this and some grinding. Amen. If he does he'd need reassurance after and still might flee and hide and snarl for a few days because male performance blahblahblah. Hopefully they'd be able to skip this step at this point in the relation.)

But I believe he'd enjoy it greatly and this might be a step he'd want to stay at for some time before going further.

Undressing

I headcanon deprived!Snape as being very self-conscious about revealing his body so it might only be possible with someone he really trusts. It might be painfully difficult for him (might require dimmed light if not obscurity but I mean come on, they're here to look at him and it'd be better for him to rip the bandaid... but giving him the option might help).

Either he'll be too aroused to care (or act as if he doesn't) or he'll feel very self-conscious and look for cues to confirm his belief that his partner will find him disgusting. It's the right moment for them to express their desire.

If for some reason he gets too triggered and leave, they wouldn't be back to square one but again, patience is key. He needs time. Or maybe they could convince him to stay and try to resolve the situation by stopping the intimacy and just talk about something else. It could be good practice to show him this isn't a big deal and that everything is fine.

But at this stage, complimenting him sincerely (no coddling) whilst not hiding their arousal could work nicely. Sprinkling some of the fantasies they had about him as well. ('I've been dreaming about these hands on me', 'You have no idea how much I've been wanting to kiss these lips to make you shut up', 'I laid awake at night thinking about touching this part of you'). Showing appreciation with touch could convince him more though and it has the advantage of preventing him to think too much.

But really, he won't like to focus on his appearance as it's something he has no control over so they should -unfortunately- bite their tongue and keep the flood of horny compliments to themselves at first. A new one might be fed to him once every two weeks to slowly build his confidence.

In Bed

Deprived!Snape is: prideful, yearning for control and very sensitive.

Now honestly I could make a whole other post with the different scenarios where he'd be more top or bottom. Instead, I will focus more on what would happen either way.

He'll want to learn. Because Severus is nothing if not a scholar. He's got a very curious nature regarding topics that interest him so if his partner is showing him how they like something, he'll get super serious about it. He will try to touch them in the exact same way at first and he's a fast learner so once it's mastered, he'll experiment. And he's going to be good at it.

That man got dexterity and an inventive mind. And that's canon.

But his focus on his partner might also be a way to keep control during this highly new situation. Depending on how self-conscious he is about his inexperience, shifting the focus on him might be a challenge. Maybe letting him take the lead could be a good idea. But maybe shoving him against the mattress and seizing control is the way to go here.

Now, he will be very sensitive, won't he?

Yes, he might. He might be a whimpering mess in no time. His partner should be cautious and gentle with him. Severus letting his guard down and letting them touch him is a very big effort coming from him so they should savor it and be sure to make it feel safe if they want this to happen again. Help him relax, let him breathe, don't hesitate to pause if he gets nervous. The walls will be destroyed, moan after moan.

But what if he isn't sensitive?

That's a possibility as well. He's been by himself for years and his wariness of intimacy and people is wired in his cells at this point. He's disconnected from his own body and never pays attention to it. He might also tense heavily once in bed with his partner, the vulnerability of it accentuating the disconnection. He might not feel pleasure, might get frustrated and feel angry or inadequate.

This situation - which I find very interesting and seems like a realistic follow-up to him wanting to kiss for a long time and struggling with undressing - is tricky and will require diplomacy and more patience.

But maybe this could be a dealbreaker for him. If the payoff isn't worth the discomfort, he could easily take it as a confirmation bias that intimacy isn't for the likes of him. The best course of action could be to focus on non-sexual aspect of intimacy.

But this essay is way too long already so I'm going to stop here.

What should I write about next? Is there something you wish I had addressed here? Is there something you'd like me to discuss next?

UPDATE: so a few people seem to be mad at me, demanding I keep on elaborating SO. Let's say I'm done here for the 'how to bed him' part (which was the premise of this essay) and I'll do another one following thoughts and possibly... focusing on the different roles in bed (top/bottom/switch) for our dear Severus. See you there.

TLDR: He's gonna be a pain, his partner needs to have calming draught for their nerves but in the end it will be very rewarding because he's starved and inventive.

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Hidden Treasure

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1653

Summary: You surprise Bucky by wearing a gift he got you and he has a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

Warnings: swearing, smut, butt plug

A/N: For @avengers-assemble-bingo AA-Kinky Bingo with square Public Sex & Butt Plug. Card (KB010)

A/N 2: Thank you to my Beta readers @late-to-the-party-81 & @lfnr-blog-blog-blog also @late-to-the-party-81 for the header & Stella @stellar-solar-flare for the idea behind this.

Please Read, Reblog, & Comment. It lets me know you like my work. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to translating or reposting my work on any social media platform, app, or third-party site or run through AI. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen.

Tonight was going to be a night to remember because you had planned a special surprise for your boyfriend, Bucky. He’s always talked about being spontaneous in your relationship and you’d always been eager to indulge him. The pair of you fucked a lot and literaly anywhere you could get your hands on each other, so it wasn’t surprising that tonight you’d had the idea to indulge in some public sex. To make it even better you’d also decided to wear a pink jewel butt plug. The pair of you always talked about different positions and scenarios to incorporate in your sex lives, so tonight you were going to plan the best sexcapade ever with your man.

You were looking at yourself in the mirror and when you turned around you could see the pink jewel sparkling at you. Just looking at it, you knew Bucky was going to lose his mind when he realised you were wearing it. You pulled the cute dress you had on down over your hips and hid the hidden treasure, wondering how long it would take him to find it. 

When you heard a knock on the door, a giggle escaped your lips. When you open it, Bucky is standing there, just taking you in. “Hey, doll, you're looking fine as hell tonight. Are you sure you don’t wanna stay in and cuddle? I could do that thing you like with my tongue.” He pokes it out from between his lips, attempting to demonstrate, but you stopped him.

“Bucky, you promised to take me out tonight. We can have fun later I promise,” you plead with him.

“But I’m feeling pretty horny,” he pouted. “I just want to sink my cock deep in your pussy and feel you squeeze around it.” A little frisky, Bucky chased you around the apartment as you squealed in delight. When he eventually caught you and pinned you against the wall, he reached around to squeeze your butt, but instead nudged your butt plug.

“What do we have here?” He questioned you with a lear as he lifted up your dress, spun you and took a good look at the toy nestled between your butt cheeks. Looking back over your shoulder, you saw Bucky’s mouth drop open and you swore he had hearts in his eyes. “Oh, doll, you’re in so much trouble. No panties and a butt plug? Now I have to play with you before we go out.” 

“Bucky,” you whined out. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Well, I’m definitely surprised, that's for sure.” Bucky stepped back, his hands on his hips, and he licked his lips.

“Please, let's just go out for a little while and then we can play afterwards. I promise you can take what you want then. I’m all dressed up just for you so we can go on a date. Please, Bucky, let's go have some fun tonight.” You were at the point of begging and you weren’t ashamed to be doing so.

“I can’t say no to you, doll. Not now, not ever. But later your body is mine. Let’s head out and go to the new club. I’ve heard it's very nice and that Tony Stark is an amazing host.”

“Sounds good, Bucky.” You grabbed your keys and ID before skipping out the door with your boyfriend trailing behind you. As you locked up Bucky slapped your butt and chuckled to himself. You knew his patience was going to wear thin tonight, so you were going to have to make the most out of your date.

Bucky drove you both to the Stark club which luckily wasn’t far from your apartment. Although, having you arrived and observed the large line outside, you started to doubt if you would actually get in tonight. However, Bucky just grabbed your hand and bypassed everyone, heading straight to the door. When he stopped in front of the bouncer, Bucky gave his name and just like that, he let you both in.

“I didn’t know you knew someone here.”

Bucky smiled at you. “I know the manager Steve, we go back many years.”

“I’m impressed. Let’s grab a drink — I need liquid courage if I’m going to dance.”

"You have as many as you want doll, but I'm gonna just have the one - I am driving after all."

You made your way over to the bar and Bucky ordered a pair of beers, paying for both. Transaction completed, you walked over to a table and sat down. You both started talking about how your days have been. Bucky started, telling you about how he’s ready to fire an employee named John for all his screw ups he has been making and in turn you told him about your crazy day at work. As you were talking, Bucky stared at you with his cool blue eyes, and when you finished he asked, “What made you finally choose the butt plug?”

Your cheeks got hot and you squirmed in your seat at the mention of it, making the item itself shift inside you. “You said you wanted me to surprise you sometime, so I figured I’d do just that and use the butt plug you bought me for my birthday a few weeks ago.” You shifted again, but this time more purposeful, keeping your gaze locked on your boyfriend’s. “Have to say it fits nice and snug. Makes me yearn for your big cock to be inside of me.”

Bucky growled. “Keep talking like that and I may just have to give you what you want.”

In response, you seductively drank your beer, your tongue swirling around the top before your lips wrapped around the top as you took a long pull of your drink. When you swallowed you made a show of it and licked your lips. For good measure, you added a small throaty moan which threatened to turn into a giggle as Bucky picked up his own drink and started to chug it. You knew you’d got to him. His cock was probably hard enough to pound nails and he wasn’t waiting any longer.

“Come with me,” he said gruffly, as he placed his now empty beer bottle on the table.

You finished off your own drink just as quickly and took his outstretched hand. Bucky pulled you efficiently through the crowds of people and toward the back of the club. He pushed through an exit-only door and headed outside, pulling you along in his wake. As soon as the door closed he was on you. 

His lips crashed against yours in a heated kiss and his hands grabbed your ass. You moaned into his mouth when he pulled your dress up over your hips and started playing with the butt plug. The sensation was so good, and you could feel your pussy getting wet.

“Wait until we get home — my cock is going to replace that plug. I’m going to fuck that ass real good.”

“Fuck, Bucky. I need you.” You kissed him all over his face, waiting for him to dominate you.

“Then you’ll have me,” he replied, huskily. 

Bucky lifted you off your feet and you quickly wrapped your legs around his trim waist, your back resting against the wall as Bucky pulled himself free of his pants. Rubbing his cock through your wet folds until he was slick with your arousal made him groan, but he didn’t delay in placing the tip of his cock at your entrance and sinking into you. Now it was your turn to let out a noise of pleasure. However, he allowed you no time to adjust, immediately thrusting up into you, hard and fast. The pair of you moan, not holding anything back and you meet him thrust for thrust as he takes you apart piece by piece.

The thought of getting caught spurred you on as you let Bucky take control of your body. He thrust into you over and over again, his eyes locked with yours. On a particularly hard thrust, he sealed his lips over yours and swallowed your moans. 

“Fuck princess,” he mumbled against you. “You feel so tight around me. Gonna let me fill you up like a good girl?”

You answered him with a filthy kiss, before adding, “I want it, Buck. Need you to fill me up.”

Harder and faster Bucky pistoned into you as you panted his name. One hand reached between you and he started to rub at your clit with quick motions which was all that you needed to tip over the edge, your panting turning to a cry that echoed into the night's sky. 

“Bucky!”

Your walls squeezed and spasmed around his cock which made Bucky’s pace falter. However, as soon as you came down from your high he chased his orgasm with a few hard thrusts, before he spilled inside of you. 

For a few moments Bucky didn’t move, just catching his breath. However, he didn’t wait too long before he pulled out of you and placed you back on your feet. Tucking himself back into his pants, he then helped you smooth some of the wrinkles from your dress before he leaned back into you and kissed you like his life depended on it.

“Princess, can we go home now? I’m more than ready to play with this butt plug and your ass.” 

“But Bucky, I didn't even get to dance tonight,” you pouted at him.

“I’ll do the horizontal tango with you all night long, instead,” Bucky smirked back at you as you giggled. “This time we won’t have to rush and I can take my time with you. What do you say, princess?”

“How can I say no to this handsome face? Fine, but next week you’re bringing me back here for the full experience. Deal?”

“Deal, love. Now let’s hurry before I have to take you in the car.”

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@casa-boiardi

@avengersfan25

[cinnamongrl2006]

Professor!Arthur Morgan x Student!reader ୨୧˚ mdni (18+)˚୨୧

warnings: power imbalance, age gap (legal),fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, (sort of?) established relationship. a/n: this is written thanks to peer pressure from my irl bestie (and an ungodly amount of hours spent in front of my play station). first time writing for my man Arthur Morgan!! (If this does well and you guys want it I'll write more for him!) Also, we reached 400 followers a couple days ago! wowzas you guys are cool.

The lecture ended not too long ago, students filtered out of the classroom hurriedly, stepping on each others' shoes, stumbling, slipping down the stairs; they chatted and laughed loudly as they exited the room almost all at the same time.

You stood by the bench, packing up carefully. When you stepped down to Arthur's desk he turned away from the computer and faced you almost instantly, his eyes low-lidded, gaze warm and welcoming when he met your gaze.

"You had something to ask me, or are you just staying behind to see me, darlin’?” he stretched out an arm, fingers brushing against your side.

"A bit of both," you confessed.

You did have to ask Arthur about exam dates and request a tutoring hour for the following week to make sure you weren't falling behind. To him, it was almost funny that you worried so much; your grades were stellar. He knew that if you ever slipped up and got a 50 or a 60, he could always round it up a little higher. He just wanted to ensure you stayed confident and didn’t stress too much about your scores.

You were such a smart girl, his top student. Always sitting in the front row, your manicured fingers clicked away at the speed of light, capturing every word he said. He admired your focus, the way you bit your glossed lips in concentration, pausing to reapply your lip gloss every now and then, almost like a nervous tic.

He leaned back in his chair and spread his legs deliciously. You leaned over the desk to talk to him about what worried you regarding the final exam. He listened attentively, nodding along to signal he understood.

Arthur's demeanor had always been quiet; some believed it was out of shyness, but you were lucky enough to know better. He was always paying attention, listening, kind of on guard.

“You really don’t need to stress about it,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “You’ve been doing exceptionally well in class.”

"Yeah? Okay, yeah." You breathed out, relieved.

When you began to ask more specific questions about the reading and class material he signaled for you to stand beside him, leaning over his shoulder to watch the computer screen lighting up. Arthur's hands snaked around your waist, rubbing at the sides almost absentmindedly.

"See this section here? That's all you gotta do in the essay, gorgeous. That ain't tough for a girl like you." His grip tightened and he pulled you into his lap slowly.

Your back hit his chest with a quiet hmph, and you giggled as he kissed your cheek, his beard tickling your soft skin. You fell back into your usual rhythm as his arms snaked around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest. He ran his nose along your jaw, his lips pressing open-mouthed kisses all over your warm throat. The normalcy of the situation calmed your unusually frayed nerves.

"What else did you need?" He spoke against your skin, teeth grazing the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

“Just you, Mr. Morgan—I mean, Arthur.” You smiled, feeling a flutter of excitement.

He had made it clear that your relationship was no longer just about business. So why bother with formal names?

He chuckled at your slip-up, his breath warm against your skin as his hands slid from your waist to beneath the skirt you wore. His thick fingers explored the softness of your thighs, searching for something. They paused when he finally found it, the pads of his fingers pressed against your clothed heat.

A shiver of pleasure coursed through you at the contact, and you instinctively leaned into him, feeling the way his touch ignited every nerve ending. “Arthur,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, filled with urgency.

He smiled, got it right this time. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he murmured, his fingers pressing against your clit over the fabric of your panties, tracing slow deliberate circles against you.

"Yes..." You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

With that, he pressed his fingers harder against you, the fabric of your panties dampening under his touch. He was so close to where you needed him, with only the thin fabric separating you. You sighed, the back of your head hitting his shoulder, your hips stuttering up against him as soft, whiny pleas left your lips.

You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the pressure building as he expertly rubbed your clit. Each movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you instinctively pressed your body against his, craving more of his touch.

“Arthur, please…” you gasped, the urgency in your voice rising. “I need you.”

With a satisfied grin, he pulled your panties aside, exposing you to his touch. His warm fingers pressing against your damp cunt before you could complain about the cold air hitting your bare skin. He slid two fingers through your wetness and you gasped at the contact.

“God, you’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “You’re lucky I don’t have another class after this.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, tilting your head closer to his face, eyes glassy already.

“’Cause I’d hate to rush you out,” he said, his tone softening, almost tender.

His deft fingers slid in and out of your cunt easily, slick dribbled down his hand, coating it. He noticed your breathing get shallow, your whines and moans louder as you ground your hips against the palm of his hand, chasing the friction you so desperately needed.

You came with a silent moan, your mouth dropping open. “Look at you, my sweet girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he watched you lose yourself in the sensations. “So beautiful when you’re like this." He kissed your jaw as he ground his hips up against your ass.

He was getting harder— shit. He needed to feel you, warm and tight and welcoming around his thick cock.

He ripped his hand away from your cunt, watched as it clenched around nothing desperately, listened as you whined for him, at the loss of contact before he pushed you up onto your feet.

You stumbled against the desk, leaning over it slightly. Arthur placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you down and forward, his touch firm yet gentle. Once he was satisfied with your position, his hands moved to your hips, one of them landing a playful smack against your ass.

You pushed your hips back on instinct and he laughed, steadying you as he bunched your skirt up over your waist and practically tore your panties off your legs. You didn't have time to whine in confusion or complain about the cold hitting your bare ass before you heard the metallic cling of his belt hitting the ground, felt the blunt tip of his cock pressing against your entrance.

“Spread your legs a little for me,” he instructed softly, and you obeyed.

His hands tightened around your hips as he began to push in, inch by inch, pressing soft kisses on your spine as he sank down completely. You could feel him stretching you out, could feel the sting as he practically split you in half. You pouted, breathless moans left your lips with desperation.

Your second orgasm was threatening to spill as hot tears coated your eyelashes. Your little ah, ah, ahs and the squelching noises your joined bodies made only egged him on further, his thrusts becoming harder, hurried and uneven.

One of his hands moved from your hip to pull at your hair. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as he pulled you up to his chest, shallow sobs making your chest heave.

“Easy there, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You’re doing so well for me.”

He pressed against you, the heat of his body burning against your back. “I know it’s a lot, but you can take it,” he coaxed, his fingers tangling gently in your hair.

“Arthur… it’s so much,” you managed to say, your voice trembling as you leaned into him, teetering on the edge.

“I know, I know,” he replied, a teasing smile in his face. “But you’re such a good girl, ain't ya? Just let me take care of you.”

He punctuated his words with quick, deep thrusts, pushing you further down against his desk. His thrusts became more like ruts, hitting you exactly where you needed him.

You finally went over the edge when one of his hands snaked down under your body to circle your clit. Your body slumped against the table as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your pulsing cunt milking him for all he was worth.

"Fuck, sweetheart." He panted, breath hot against the back of your neck, his softening cock still buried inside you, cum dripping down your thighs.

After he helped you up to your feet and straightened you up— as best as he could could— he kissed the top of your head, the rough pads of his thumbs brushing away at the tear and mascara stains on your cheeks. His eyes were trained on yours, your gaze still a little absent.

"You with me, pretty thing?" He smiled when you nodded your head, gaze focusing in on him. "Need a ride home?" he offered, his expression softening, a hint of genuine concern in his eyes. “I can drop you off.”

"Actually, that'd be great, I don't wanna take the bus looking like this. You should stay for dinner." You spoke over your shoulder as you leaned down to take your bag. "My flatmates are gone for the weekend." You explained.

He smiled, thankful, as he led you out of the lecture room and into the empty hallway.

────୨ৎ────

tags: @laceyfaeryy @rope-and-ride-me-cowboah @h3rmit-purrrrple420 @bundleofabsolutejoy @crstilia

[thesharktanksdriver]

Devils may love: leaving home, loving life and loosing you

This is part 1 going over dmc3, I’m gonna maybe write parts for the other games if people are interested. Also maybe will eventually write some stuff for the pov of other characters in love with the blind dumbass that is reader.

You never thought that in your life you’d end up working at a place called “devil may cry”

When you initially found a job listing for the job it wasn’t even named that yet, and you never knew how much it would end up affecting your life

You used to fear not being able to pay rent on a daily basis

Feared getting mugged on your way home from a late shift or if your coupons expired before you bought groceries

But now you feared having demons knocking down your door and breathing down your neck on a daily basis

Let alone the fact that you had to deal with that alongside whatever other world ending event you somehow got caught up in

And dealing with taxes

And ensuring that Dante payed for the power and hydro in time

And….

Well there were a lot of and’s with the job that would go on to change your life

Whether that change was fully good or fully bad was up to debate

God knows how long you’ve weighed both sides in your mind

But it for sure made your life a hell of a lot more lively

Quite literally in the hell metaphor

And it all started when you found an add in the paper right after leaving a previous job and needing cash quick

You had a shitty apartment but rent was due in a short amount of time

Couldn’t rely on your parents either, not when they put you in this situation in the first place and you’d took the opportunity to get as far away from their shit as possible

Which meant you had fairly limited options

Especially with the fact you’d also had to drop out at the finish line of high school to make ends meet

That had ended up biting you in the ass more than anything

But the paper in your hands said little qualifications were needed

So it was your last chance

You never knew what it entail when you entered through the double doors of the newly bought building

The street lights above you illuminating your hope filled face holding your short resume

Admittedly sitting down for the job interview with Dante was a rather…daunting task

Less because he was intimidating

And moreso for the fact that the man (you say that hesitantly because he was literally the same age as you) who introduced himself as Dante sat with his feet kicked up on his desk and barely even glanced at your resume

The paper simply ended up in his hands for his eyes to skim before letting it be placed atop a stack of papers that looked like overdue bills nearby

Nor had he asked any work related question like “how do you work well in a team environment” or “do you have any prior experience to jobs like this”

Instead your potential future employer snacked on a slice of pizza and asked you questions like “know any places that deliver mid-apocalypse?” And “want a slice? Can’t guarantee you’ll get more than a piece or two with how fast I eat”

You can’t say you’d had any job interviews end up like this

They mostly ended up with fake smiles and promises to contact you if you got the position and never hearing a peep from them again

But Dante seems all too lax to be considered serious at all

Well besides his serious addiction to take out evident by the few leftover stacked pizza boxes and cartons of Chinese swept off to the side

Whenever you bring up your resume he waves it off or switches topics

He definitely didn’t even read through your previous job experiences

He just read your name and your phone number

What’s worse is that this wouldn’t even be the worst boss you’d had

Just potentially the weirdest

And that’s saying something

But At least he’s not some old creep the age of your dad leering at you

He’s just a horned up teen boy

He’s 18, just like you and just as in need of needing to get by on his own as you are

Though you think for different circumstances

By how he keeps a small photo of a blond woman on his desk, the only thing comparably well kept on the scratched up mahogany slab implies something

Something your not privy to (yet) but something none the less

A thing that leaves him both careless and untethered all the same

Perhaps for both good and bad

Whilst your seemingly the opposite, you can’t help but think of your parents with a bitterness that crawls up and wraps round every memory good (not many I the first place) or bad

Along with the fact that you can’t and don’t want to go back to them and would rather try to scrape by on your own

Even if it meant dropping out before graduation to do so

Just so you could get a job to afford rent since minimum wage wouldn’t get you by

Well…it certainly has a lot of weight to it both

Maybe something he recognizes when despite your made up professional appearance there are some cracks in it

How you nervously play with your hands

The fact that your his age and asking for a job that’d be enough to afford groceries and a roof over your head

No matter how leaky or loud the neighbours were

So when the interview is over you begin to count your losses

Grabbing your bag and trying not to hang your head on the way out

He must’ve just been messing with you

Or at least that’s what you think until he stops you asking where you going

And you can only tilt your head in confusion saying that you were heading back to your apartment

“But your already on the job”

“Huh? But I thought you were pulling my leg”

“What do you mean? I hired you already”

“What?! When???”

“When I opened the door and found an absolute babe in front of me asking for a job”

You think your already starting to regret this choice

But cash is king and you need some of that dollar to get by this month

You’ll just resign when you get on your feet and find something better

(News flash that doesn’t happen. Oh poor young naive past you)

Working at this still yet to be named paranormal/mercenary agency is a relatively easy task

Answer the phone, organize Dante’s increasingly messy desk, file some paperwork and make sure the bills are payed on time

Maybe throw out some old takeout and fight off the colony of raccoons in the back who started making a palace from pizza boxes

Somehow that ends up being the most odd but simultaneously normal thing you’d experienced yet

The place itself is actually quite cosy when you get used to it

Warm lighting accented by a the soft hum of the jukebox playing some 80’s power ballad

It makes for a nice mood when your sweeping up or filling things out

A comfy leather chair and a simple but effective desk for you to work at if it wasn’t already occupied

The smell of gunsmoke and cologne wafting in the air…alongside leftover pizza remains that you try to mask with fabreeze

On that half the job is simple

Effective as you mainly just ensured the place didn’t burn down

Or have the power taken again

Something you’d expect from being a secretary and or cleaner

(You will not say your a maid, Dante kept insisting that maybe he’d get you a proper costume to go with it that you quickly shut down)

And mainly answer the phone when Dante wasn’t there to butt in and take the receiver from you

But on the other hand working at this still unnamed place also means you were working with Dante

And that was a mixed bag in of itself

For as much as he initially intimated you with his display of guns right behind his desk or the sword casually strapped to his back

Or the ungodly amount of times you dealt with him covered head to toe covered in gore and blood

Or the fact he was your boss and could fire you at any moment

Dante’s intimidation factor quickly faded away into mild annoyance from his Dante..ness

Look you aren’t paid enough to deal with this crap-

To others Dante was the demon hunter

A mercenary of well known regard

A hero who saved the day and stopped the forces of hell

A badass with a penchant for overly complicated and dramatic theatrics

And dear god was he known for how he did this all effortlessly while seemingly being the coolest man ever known

But to you he was your annoying boss

This was both affectionately and as an insult due to the amount of times he’d gone out of his way to dump the bills on your desk and high tailed it out of the store using a mission as an eccuse

Dante as your employer is weird plain and simple

He has moments where he toys with you slightly

Pushing your buttons but never pushing too far 

Small jokes sent your way but nothing extreme

Knowing when you began to look genuinely upset and stopping before he accidentally crossed the line in the sand

He drapes himself over your shoulders while your trying to fill out his papers

Keyword his

Or he calls you by those god awful nicknames

He calls you a plethora of stuff: babe, baby, hot stuff, sugar

But most embarrassingly and most frequently

“honeypie~”

You’d swear with the amount of times he called you that you could permanently pay for the electricity bill and maybe even the water

A shit eating grin on his face as he drags out the pet name whenever he could in a sing-song manner

(Including in front of clientele and eventually the other members of dmc when they join…and it unfortunately sticks since everyone but Nero partakes in torturing you this way-)

You’ve chased him with his plethora of weapons many times trying to wipe that grin off his face

Yelling his name at the top of your lungs as he hopped over his desk and toppled the stack of still unsigned paperwork

The phone ringing conveniently has saved him too many times when you were just about to get revenge

The most effective threatening tool of them all was the well loved broom you’d swear you’d mastered at this point

But on the other hand Dante is equally kind as he is annoying

When not playfully teasing and joking Dante just talks to you

Sometimes it’s mundane things like asking for recommendations for new schlocky horror flicks to watch

Other times it’s complaining whatever demonic creature he was sent to exterminate

Something he had initially tried to hide from you before you very easily pointed out the literal demon heads he’d impaled on the walls weeks earlier

For all his bravado and being a bit of an ass he’s caring at his core

You see that through his actions that are both loud and clear and quiet and invisible

There are times he makes his care obvious

He watches intently and knows when your tired and pushing yourself to get things done even if your trying to hide it

The subtle lull of your head as exhaustion seeps into your bones

He gets up from whatever he was distracting himself with (typically a magazine of some sort)

Telling you to “take a break there babe. Don’t want you to keel over too soon” though the slight edge to it indicates his worry as he takes the paperwork off your desk and stashes it some place absurdly high

His go too method to get you to stop overworking

other times when you fall asleep at the front desk you wake up to find his coat draped over your shoulders and yourself relocated on a nearby couch

A small sticky note clinging to your face saying “don’t overwork yourself honepie, who else is gonna keep me in check. By the way there’s some leftover pizza for you in the fridge if I’m not back by when you wake up - your favorite devil hunter Dante :)”

How he offers to walk you home or let you stay the night if it was getting particularly late

Though whenever he makes that offer he ruins it with the wiggling of his eyebrows immediately after

And the cheeky grin that by that point your too tired to try and erase off his face

But even then, when he makes that offer you see in crystalline blue eyes the sincerity in them

A smidge of worry and maybe even a crumb of fear

His more subtle care comes in the form of how you find your area more safer than usual

Less muggings let alone demons slinking through the night

Apparently he made it known that these were his stomping grounds and with his reputation most demons knew to stay clear

Same for muggers as well with his name in the underworld

His other silent care comes in the form of finding your favourite snacks eventually stocked at in the small kitchen

It comes from a few stray questions here and there

Or noticing what you packed yourself for lunch/snacks

He never acknowledges it

But you do find he has a small smile when seeing you enjoy what he bought

Content without a thank you because seeing your smile was enough

how the jukebox now seems to contain songs you’d mentioned enjoying out of nowhere

Or songs you’d already liked in the machine playing more often

Because that’s the sort of person Dante was

The man who when you call in sick ends up at your place with wanton soup and medicine

Never asking for anything In return except for you to recover properly

Or The fact he always he always buys you a strawberry sundae alongside his own or makes sure to buy a split pizza incase you didn’t like his toppings

It’s perhaps because of this you keep telling yourself you’ll put off finding another job

That the job market was bad right now even if you’d seen another promising job

Just because seeing his stupid grin when he sees you enter was payment enough even without the cash

“Dante I swear to god! Get back here!”

“Sorry honepie! Got a job to do!!”

“You’re not leaving until you pay the god damn bills you asshole!!! If you can deal with demons then you can deal with me you bastard!!!” Raising the broom you whack his head, making the devil hunter groan and he returns to running for his life out the double doors “also pick a god damn name for this place already! A business needs a name!”

You end up seeing Dante in various particular intimate moments in his life (Even before all the craziness that would come later on down the line)

It first begins when you see the days he’s drained from wear and tear

From the jobs that went bad even if he made it back alive

his shoulders sag even when he tries to act like his cocky self

His grin more strained as blue eyes hold back tears from failure to save someone

You don’t ask

Never have the heart to

But you do find yourself pulling him close even with the height difference

The first time it happens he goes stiff

Still as a statue in such an uncharacteristic manner

Thinking he’s uncomfortable you tried to pull away, an apology at the tip of your tongue when shaky arms pulled you back

Clinging to you as knees buckle and he ends up in the crook of your neck

You don’t mention how his sobs are heartwrenching

Nor that they haunt you with how vulnerable it sounds

Instead you thread fingers through his snowy hair, weaving through the soft locks

You never ask what happened

Instead you say that you’d order pizza tonight, on the house

With a few sobs he tries to argue but you don’t relent

And somehow the stubborn man you called your boss relents

Perhaps for the first time you’d ever seen

It’s later on when these moments happen though few and far between that he opens up bit by bit

It takes about a year but Like small fractures in a dam it eventually breaks and lets out the waterworks

He tells you he had a dad, a stern but caring man who disappeared one day and probably died

He tells you that he had a brother, his twin who was his opposite in almost every way possible down to contrasting favourite colours

The most caring mom in the world who died as flames consumed their home

He could only stay hidden in the closet

Scared and alone

Powerless to it all

How for years he was alone with only a trail of regrets and people he cared for ending up in the crossfire

How he’s only part human (though to be honest you already kinda put that together after he walked off being impaled one day)

All because of him

That despite it all he only ended up failing time and time again

And most surprisingly that he was scared

Scared for you

Because everyone he cared for ended up dead

And that he’s sorry for being selfish and keeping you around despite the risk

That you have to hate him for how annoying he was

For the danger he brought even being in the same room as you

It’s admittedly a lot

But you hold him, letting him get it all out

Hands that had seen so much loss and blood clutching you like you were the last valuable thing in the world and simultaneously made of glass

It just solidifies your words when you tell him that honestly he was a giant pain in the ass

A admittedly terrible boss

A smartass and flirty bastard

But he was a good person

Someone who did his best despite the circumstances

Because no matter how much he was kicked down and spat on he took it with a cocky smile

Never letting the salt in the wound sting in front of others

And that most importantly you can’t guarantee that you won’t get hurt

But you’d stick with him

For some reason despite all the risks he lists off you wanna stay

Your not really sure as to why

But you stay and that’s what matters

The risk he practically begs you to consider

Yet you stay

So in the vulnerable moments you wait for him by the doors

Waiting and ready for him to collapse into your arms

Ignoring the blood and gore that you’d inevitably have to wash out your clothes yet again

But it’s a price to pay when the man you call your friend

Your technical boss who was more like your own employee than anything with how you heckled him to get work done

Your best friend and worst migraine holds you with such fragility

You never confirm with him but you think the last time someone hugged him like this was his mom

All those years ago as the blazing flames surrounded them

It’s perhaps why he clutches you so close

Hoping to not let go and have the past repeat itself

But unlike back then you remind Dante that he’s not powerless anymore

He’s not the scared boy locked in a closet surrounded by the flames

He’s a man with the power to protect those weaker than him

Because he knows what it’s like to be powerless

To pray for a hand to reach out and to now be that hand for others

Despite what he thought you remind him that the truly powerful protect what they love

(Unbeknownst to you, you are that love)

(The beating heart that makes his humanity all the more apparent and his demonic side all the more powerful with something to protect)

All the while you morn the fact that Dante and you are the same age

Both kids with no one seemingly but each other in this world and left to navigate with one another

Your both just kids

You’d heard too many of Dante’s stories about his childhood not to recognize the sight of his brother inside your apartment

White hair slicked back instead of messy locks framing his face

Their near identical features if not for the ominous threatening look in blue eyes that you knew Dante would never direct towards you even if you took the last slice or banned him from strawberry sundaes yet again

You’d think after all the stuff you’d been through due to Dante like the incident with the raccoons out back becoming infused with demon power

Or the amount of times you’d saved his sorry ass from going fully broke

That this would be the worst thing that could happen

An Incorrect assumption

Looking at his definitely evil twin brother you can’t help but sigh and put your hands up in defeat

He told you awhile back about his run In with his twin

Said twin trying to steal his half of the amulet that the half-demon always wore

Well “always wore” besides the times he’d go to take a shower and ask you to hold onto it for him for a bit

Then returning it once he was done, a certain shine of gratitude in his eyes when he sees you polished it for him

Anyways back to the evil twin thing, apparently Vergil gave back said amulet because “he said he could take it back anytime he wanted”

The death glare and that quote alone alerted you to what type of person you had in your apartment

And that’s not even accounting the fact that he’s also part demon and has a real ass katana with him

“So do you want me to write a note for him before you kidnap me? Or do you want me to call him instead?”

To be completely honest after the raccoon incident you can’t even be remotely surprised anymore

But this does either earn you amusement from said definitely evil brother or at least some brownie points for being compliant

“Your cooperating?”

“Listen sir…uh Vergil? I’m assuming your Vergil? Anyways Vergil I’m not paid enough to deal with this….and your brother said I’d be paid overtime if something like this happened. So if anything this a forced paid vacation”

To be honest that last part was mostly you trying to find some good in this admittedly shitty situation

You always had great copping skills or at least that’s what you told yourself

At least you’d hopefully get something out of this besides trauma

And potential scars physical and psychological

Or Maybe even death if your super unlucky and piss off the blue half demon

But that was an if

A big if due to the fact he hasn’t already cut you down implying he needed you for something

And hopefully that something would give Dante enough time to save you

God forbid he doesn’t or else you’d become a demon and claw your way out of hell to torture him with undone paperwork

And with that you end up as hostage/bait in a literal hell tower that spouted up from the ground

Vergil and some weird guy called Arkham holding you at the top of the tower like some princess

Guess in this case Dante would be your proverbial knight in shinning armour while Vergil was the dragon or something

The analogy wasn’t too far off with that weird ass jester occasionally popping up to piss you off when Vergil left the room

You couldn’t wait for the long nosed bastard to have some lead shoved inbetween his eyes for the fact he kept joking about your dead expression whilst being kidnapped

Unlike him you had some scraps of dignity you wanted to save

Plus what was even the point of kicking and screaming when you were up against a half demon and whatever else they had up their sleeves

Speaking of said other half demon though

Surprisingly you didn’t entirely mind Vergil

Was he an ass? Definitely

But at least you could have a conversation with him

Something that surprises even him when you spotted him pulling out a book of poetry

Specifically William Blake

Yeah, surprise surprise somehow that “useless” class in high school your parents hounded you about wasting your time on actually became relevant

You’d say you’d told them if it weren’t for the fact you never wanted to see either of them again

He reads quietly aloud not expecting you to finish the last part for him

“The sun descending in the west, the evening star does shine; The birds are silent in their nest, and I must seek for mine-”

“The moon, like a flower, in heavens high bower, with silent delight, sits and smiles on, the night”

For the first time you see something crack in his stoic demeanour

a spark of something when he then turns to you

Surprise? Maybe even a hint of some sort of longing

You don’t know what he went through after he was separated from Dante, but you can only guess it was just as hard as his twin up to this point

So maybe finding someone with the same love for flowery words of a dead guy was comforting in some weird way

At least as comforting it could get for someone who hated humanity

He walks over to where you sat on the cold ground with your wrists and ankles bound, asking if you knew more of Blake’s work and when you nod

At that there’s a moment of silence and then he asks for your interpretation of old words on faded yellow pages

This leads you to discuss with Dante’s brother without being called a “useless human” 5 seconds in

Honestly sitting atop the weird demon tower debating with him wasn’t what you pictured

But it is a sure if a lot better than what you originally imagined

Mostly because it’s actually pretty fun

Vergil unlike Dante seems to like debating and discussing

Something that was hard to do with Dante because he either brushed it off or was more prone to changing the subject

You don’t blame him for it, stuff like this wasn’t his forte

But it was nice having someone to talk to about it

The two of you start off at first with Blake

Interpretations of his poems meanings

Particular passages either of you enjoyed

That evolves into discussion of other poets

Poe, Dickinson, Shakespeare, Wilde, frost and Shelley

But it later devolves into world views

Specifically his opinion on humanity

Because despite the fact that Vergil is part human and his fully demon father married a mortal woman and seemingly abandoned that part of himself

Vergil ended up despising his humanity

Thinking of it as inferior to his demonic half

Well, maybe hate was a strong word but he definitely looked down on humans

Yourself included but maybe a bit less considering he was talking with you instead of scowling silently as he did before

He was the opposite of Dante in every way

While Dante embraced his humanity Vergil shunned his own

But Vergil accepted his demonic half whilst Dante still remained hesitant of it

One brother was loud, the other silent

One Red and one blue

One Warm and one cold

Complete and total opposites in every manner of the word

While you don’t agree with Vergils views you do try to understand them

You make the effort of understanding him because you think he deserves as much

Not only because he was important to Dante but because like Dante he also was your age

He was a kid like you are even if he tried to act mature

He thinks his mom abandoned him that day in favour of Dante

Telling him she didn’t wouldn’t change his mind especially from you of all people

A human who’d never met her or was there for that event

Especially if Dante had tried and still couldn’t get through to him

So instead you reason with him in other such ways

Sparda had sealed off the demon from the human world for a reason

Didn’t that indicate something to him?

Plus he was already powerful enough by every other standard possible

He could outmatch any human that came his way

He raised a god damn hell tower to prove it

He was already top of the proverbial food chain with enough power

Dipping his toes into this though could shift those tides

Admittedly you knew jack shit about hell and it’s hierarchy besides the small tidbits Dante explained

And even then those snippets of information were from the small stories his dad told when he was younger so it was dubious at best

You’re not sure if Mr. Sparda had sanitized stories for his sons or if he told them the truth and didn’t cushion the blow

But it safe to say even the most powerful of humans couldn’t compare to the upper crust of hell

Plus the added bonus of It being closed off for who knows how long giving an even bigger question mark as to what’s down there

Because if hell is anything like humanity things change and demons get stronger

For all he knows he could be inviting that Mundus guy his father went against to his doorstep

And seeing how Sparda apparently had a difficult time defeating him at full power the odds weren’t in anyone’s favour

That last part seems to shake him a bit more than you’d initially thought

You see the stone cold demeanour crack slightly

“Are you calling me weak?”

“I’m not, Far from it. But all I’m saying is that opening that portal is opening pandora’s box.” For a moment you pause watching his stewing expression “there’s no undoing it if you do and no telling what your unleashing on not only everyone else but yourself. Your not guaranteed anything from this, let alone the power you seek ”

Distantly if you listen hard enough you swear you hear gunshots ring out on the lower floors of the tower

The familiar rhythm and melody of ebony and ivory’s gunshots

You’d heard them too many times to be able to memorize the sound

But along with that your alerted to the fact that someone else besides Dante is in the tower

Something Vergil seems less than amused with

Not to mention the fact he looks like he’s perpetually 5 seconds away from stabbing that Arkham guy nearly any time the man opens his mouth

Something you can’t exactly complain about since you’d also found him plain weird

And that’s saying something

The only thing out that bald freak’s mouth that you agreed with was that a storm was approaching

Both physical and metaphorical as you sit when the rain begins to fall

Sitting atop this ancient tower of stone you can’t help but find some irony in it all

Sparda had sealed away this unholy tower to stop the passage from one world to the next

But ultimately it’s one of Sparda’s sons who tries to resurrect it and undo his fathers work while the other wants to topple it for humanity’s sake as his father did

It was like a twisted form of jenga with this Tower of Babel

With you unfortunately at the top of the tower waiting for it to topple

The moon hangs high in the sky, Illuminating the droplets that shine

The pale silver light reminding you of both of the twins hair

Dante’s is left down to frame his face, free and messy just like he is

Whilst Vergils is pushed back and sleek, professionalism and an air of confidence in it

Never had you been as relived in your life until that point when you see Dante’s knotted messy mop of hair

Slightly stained with blood and viscera that soon began to wash away under the rain

You can’t help but yell his name in sheer excitement, his eyes light up

Lurching forwards your stopped not only by the fact that your currently tied up with uncomfortable ass rope but also the fact that Vergil unsheathe his sword in front of you

A indignant huff escaping him

(From your yell or his brother your not sure…probably both considering him)

You see your reflection in the blade alongside the hollow presence of the moon

Her silent presence a small comfort in this entire situation despite her impartialness in helping

(You do not see the blue wearing brother glance down at you for the briefest of moments)

You can’t do anything but watch as the two fight

Blow after blow

Slash after slash

Round after round fired from ebony and ivory

All the while you stay huddled to the ground trying to desperately stay out the way

Your works cut out for you though on account the two seem to pivot away if they get too close

No matter if either was about to win Dante would pull back if either him or Vergil got too close to you for comfort

And you think even Vergil seemed to do the same for some reason

Maybe he wanted to kill you later or something

But the turning point comes and red stains the cold ground

Yamato impaling itself through Dante’s chest while you can only watch

You can’t help but scream his name again as he falls and the necklace is torn from his neck

The heirloom he seemed to only trust you with being stolen

Vergil smoothed his hair back under the rain in a comedically villain manner that takes you out of it for a moment

This is your life now

Captive atop a tower while two half demon brothers duked it out

Dante twitches, ready to get up but Vergil takes Dante’s own sword and stabs him with it

Vergil and Arkham talk for a moment but your too distracted to pay their words any attention

Not when your focused on Dante

and then a beam of light shoots out Dante’s sword and the sword changes?

And then Dante’s back up again

This all happens in the span of a couple minutes the while your gaping at the scene

Because a) you knew Dante had some type of magic deus ex machina bullshit but you didn’t know he could get stabbed multiple times and survive. Mind you, you’d seen him stabbed once or twice before and walk it off but several times in a row was something you didn’t expect him t just walk off either

plus b) all this time he could get impaled several times over and yet his ass would run like you were coming at him with a chainsaw when you were trying to whack him on the head with a broom a few days back

You don’t get much time to focus on that anymore

Not when Vergil picks you up and walks to the edge of the tower

All the while Dante stumbles to his feet

A bloodied cough erupting from his chest as he tried to stumble forwards with his arm outstretched to you

“Oh please god no, can’t you just take the stairs-“ before you get to finish your plea Vergil takes a leap off the tower with you firmly on his shoulder grasping him for dear life “DANTE!!”

Never had you thought that your life would end up like this

And it all came from a singular job ad

[totallynotashieldagent]

Can we please get some honey Damian Wayne thoughts… literally crumbs. Also I am majorly obsessed with your Damian x reader fic, it’s so good

hiiiii thank you so much!!! i didn't know damian was so well loved tbh, he was gonna my silly goober lol but SURE of course!! here's more dami!!

Damian Wayne who felt that words were a waste and it was better to show than to say.

It starts small. Mentioning a that you liked a certain pastry from a shop too out of the way from work and home, so, you made turned it into a special occasions treat. Because it would always take too long in Gotham traffic to go and get it. And the petrol wasted would make you rethink if the sweet was even worth it.

It took one mention only and the next thing you knew was a delivery being set up. Every Sunday morning, without fail. There it would be. And you knew it took extra effort because the tiny mom&pop shop didn't even do deliveries. So, you could only wonder how much Damian was spending on this 6$ treat.

When you confronted him, saying that it wasn't worth the effort, he simply tutted at you and rolled his green eyes, mumbling a, "Don't be ridiculous."

But you saw it so clearly. The sparkle in his eye and the smallest upturn of his mouth. Closest thing to a smile you were ever going to get this early on.

Then came the umbrella.

There had been a storm and he'd called you during your lunch to ask about your day. You'd sighed and moaned and told him how you could to work completely soaked. Your shoes full of water because the wind had been too harsh and your umbrella had broken and flown away and now you needed shoe shopping as well.

When you got home that night, drying and cleaning up, during dinner, the phone buzzed and the bell rang simultaneously. Wedging the phone between your ear and shoulder, you opened the door to a man you didn't know.

"That's Johnathan. He's brought a selection of shoes you usually wear." Damian's voice came through the device. "And I've sent a better umbrella. It should arrive by tomorrow morning."

You stared at the hung up phone and at the man at your door that had too many boxes of shoes in his arms and at the doorstep.

The smaller things grew into bigger.

How his schedule moved around when you told him which days you had off and when you'd be busy.

Lunch deliveries on most days with the most extravagant of ingredients and a small note signed by him, telling you of where something specific was from. Local strawberries taste like cardboard, so the ones you got were from France. Gotham's honey is like drinking sewage slurry, so you got Rose Honey from Russia.

How his hand always found yours, no matter who looked. How he'd always push his shoulder against you to support your weight if you ever blinked too long.

It grew and grew and you couldn't help one night to joke at him.

"You're quite the romantic, you know." You laughed softly and he'd simply rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going to apologize for being observant." He said sharply, but there was that look again in his eyes. The one that made you sure he was thriving on providing you with anything- everything- you never asked for.

.

.

.

Drabble Masterlist

[dixons-sunshine]

General warnings: Some of these fics contain mature content. Please heed the warnings before reading and note that I nor the writers on this list are responsible for your consumption. That said, also be sure to respect the writers’ boundaries regarding who can consume their content.

Krys Rambles: Hi hello! On this list, you can find all of my favourite fics I’ve read. These writers are all amazing and I highly suggest checking them out! This list isn’t in any order, and as of right now, it covers characters like Daryl Dixon, Scud Frohmeyer, Murphy MacManus, Connor MacManus, and Joel Miller! However, more will be added as I read. Also, if you don’t want to be on this list and want to be removed, please tell me and I’ll do it! You can also find every fic I’ve ever reblogged under fic rec, and they’re all amazing!

This list includes both x Reader and OC fics.

𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔/𝑻𝒘𝒐-𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔:

Flattery by @dixonsdarkelf

Warnings: No use of y/n, suggestive themes but no smut

You’re An Amateur (but Baby, I’m A Pro) by @dixonsdarkelf (part two of Flattery)

Summary: During a run with Daryl, you find yourself a little sexy surprise and catch your new boyfriend with a look in his eye you’d never seen before. When leaving the department store, the last thing he said was you’d talk when you got home. Well now you were home, and it was time to have that talk…a talk that escalates into an experience you’d never forget.

Warnings: Smut, heavy on the MDNI, we got virgin!reader and a flustered Daryl in this one, Reader is in her late 20s/early 30s, virginity loss, oral (both f & m receiving), Daryl talks Reader through giving a blowjob, Reader has hair long enough to be held in a ponytail, next part will contain more smut, I'm incapable of writing smut without a lot of feelings, mentions of blood (in reference to blushing, i.e. blood rushing to your cheeks), pet names (angel mostly)

Close Quarters by @janiehellion

Summary: Trapped overnight by a horde of walkers during a supply run, you and Daryl Dixon find yourselves in close quarters with nothing but time on your hands. And the problem that you can't keep your hands to yourself.

Warnings: Smut ⋮ Language ⋮ Oral Sex ⋮ Belly Kink

Healing Touch by @janiehellion

Summary: When Daryl Dixon is injured and stuck in bed, he’s not exactly thrilled about the idea of being pampered by the group. But you? You’re more than ready to take care of him—and show him just what it means to be a good boy. Think Daryl Dixon’s all rough and tough? Think again...

Warnings: Smut ⋮ Handjob ⋮ Teasing ⋮ Edging ⋮ Orgasm Control

New Blood In An Old Place by @janiehellion

Summary: The quietest souls have the loudest hearts, and you just found yourself staring at the sky—wondering if Daryl Dixon might be the one to make the stars in the night feel a little closer and less out of reach.

Warnings: Selective Mutism ⋮ Fluff ⋮ Mild Angst ⋮ Canon Divergence

Revved Up by @janiehellion

Summary: Learning to ride a motorcycle should’ve been simple. After all, you knew your way around bikes better than anyone in Alexandria—except Daryl Dixon. But one crash and one pissed-off redneck later, and you're stuck with him giving you a hands-on crash course in focus and control.

Warnings: Smut ⋮ Language ⋮

A Mouthful Of Baptism by @janiehellion

Summary: Daryl Dixon's hands were made to kill—rough, calloused, and strong. But at the CDC, with electricity, a bottle of alcohol, and your lips wrapped around his fingers, he learns what it feels like to crave his woman's touch more than survival. Hot water. Red wine. Your mouth. And the man who owns it.

Warnings: Smut ⋮ S1 Feral Daryl Dixon ⋮ Wine Play ⋮ Pussy Worship ⋮ Primal Kink ⋮ Cunnilingus ⋮ Oral Fixation ⋮ Finger Sucking ⋮ Dry Humping ⋮ Shower BJ ⋮ Teasing ⋮ Possessive Behavior ⋮ Marking ⋮ Spanking ⋮ Spit Play ⋮ Protective Violence ⋮ Language ⋮ Shane Walsh Being An Asshole

Not An Invitation by @dixonsdarkelf

Summary: Shane never knew when he wasn't welcome in someone's space, and he was often invading yours. After one time too many, a certain archer comes to your defense. Inspired by the song 'Invitation' by Ashnikko.

Warnings: No use of y/n, swearing, Shane being a major-league creep

What I Do, I Do For You by @holdmytesseract

Summary: When two Saviors kidnap you - Daryl's pregnant wife - in order to score him off, the archer sees red and does everything to safe you... Everything.

Warnings: Lots of bad stuff is happening, so please act with caution! usual TWD stuff, a lot of angst, pregnancy stuff, violence, blood, character death, murder, brief mentions of rape, FLUFF, Justin & Jed (yep, they're a warning), please tell me if I missed something!

In The Eye Of The Storm by @holdmytesseract

Summary: You go into labor while staying at the renewed Sanctuary. Daryl has to safely get you back home to Alexandria, of course - through a thunderstorm...

Warnings: usual TWD stuff, pregnancy, childbirth, baby things, mentions of blood, weapons, quite a bit angst, fluff, protective!Daryl

Save A Bike, Ride A Biker by @holdmytesseract

Summary: You plan to surprise Daryl and give his bike a scrub. But before you are able to finish your good work, Daryl walks in on you...

Warnings: TWD stuff, weapons, smoking? fluff, cleaning a bike? suggestive smut

Under The Stars by @maggie-atwood

Warnings: none really! Some typical TWD shitty living conditions and reference to weapons, but mostly just fluff!

You’re The Light, You’re The Night by @angelwings-crossbowstrings

Summary: You never thought you’d end up here, but there’s no place you’d rather be.

Warnings: Smut

𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔:

The Staring Contest by @deansapplepie

Summary: Daryl and you can’t just take your eyes off each other.

Warnings: swearing, talks about death, Merle, more will be added with time.

Finding Myself, Finding You by @dixonsdarkelf

Summary: Lydia Vector is a trauma surgeon trying to find herself again after a traumatic incident--on top of surviving the zombie apocalypse. Along the way, she finds community, friendship, and maybe something more.

Warnings: implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted SA, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death

Love In The Rearview Mirror by @holdmytesseract

Summary: Bikes, cigarettes & sex - a lifestyle Daryl Dixon had embraced since he was a teenager.

With being taught from childhood on that love is nothing but a weakness, foolish, and for losers, he had successfully locked his heart and threw away the key. The redneck playboy from Georgia never entertained the thought of committing to another person. Occasional flings, strip clubs, and one-night-stands served to scratch that primal itch inside him. He didn't care about broken hearts and dreams - not even when he stumbled upon you on one of his bike trips through the USA. You were like every other woman before...

... until you weren't.

Warnings: age gap (Daryl is 32, Y/N is 23), angst - quite a lot, drama - also a lot, alcohol & smoking, fluff, strip club? nudity, suggestive stuff, a lot of music/musical inspiration, horses? smut.

Save Me, Save You by @maggie-atwood

Summary: When a dangerous new community attacks, life in Alexandria gets turned upside down. In an attempt to protect your people, you volunteer to meet the bizarre demands of the new community's eccentric leader, including becoming his wife. But along the way, you meet an old community legend, who has fallen down a dark path. Will you be able to save him, your people, and yourself, or will you be lost in the struggle?

Warnings: canon-typical violence, character deaths (canon), guns, blood/injuries, explicit language, sexual content. (Individual chapters will have warnings as well)

Blood Ties by @angelwings-crossbowstrings

Summary: Daryl met you while hunting to feed the group he saddled himself with at the quarry. It was just sex, no strings attached. Until it wasn’t. Strangers to friends to lovers. A bit of slow burn and angst.

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, canonical character death, smut, masturbation, allusions to abortion, medical blood draw, vomiting, allusions to suicide, minor canonical character death, child injury, pregnancy complications, illness, medical procedures, graphic descriptions of childbirth, allusions to child abuse

𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔/𝑻𝒘𝒐-𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔:

Pink In The Cheeks, Red In The Sheets by @dixonsdarkelf— Part One | Part Two

Summary: You'd had a long and stressful week at the workshop, and you were looking forward to a little unwinding with your partner. However, you knew it would be a little more than just unwinding.

Part one warnings: MDNI, smut, porn without plot, fingering, pet names (baby, gorgeous, sweetheart, etc.), sexy talk, praise kink, Scud licking his fingers after, no use of y/n, we're fully blaming the hormones for this one

Part two warnings: MDNI, smut, blowjob, making out, grinding, hair pulling, face-fucking, praise kink, masturbation, swallowing, pet names (babygirl, angel, babe, etc.), Reader takes his whole dick down her throat

𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔/𝑻𝒘𝒐-𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔:

A Little Snooping Never Hurt Anyone by @dixonsdarkelf

Summary: Bedroom activities with your boyfriend never ceased to leave you fully satiated, but tonight was different. And only later is it revealed what exactly had gotten into him.

Warnings: MDNI, implied smut (like we don't see any of the action but they were clearly fucking), implication of unprotected p in v & creampie (I do not endorse this, y'all know better), swearing

𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔/𝑻𝒘𝒐-𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔:

When Your Heart Beats In Stereo by @stellar-waves

Warnings: MDNI 18+ only! poorly written smut, explicit language, poorly written flirting, sorta slow-burn, unprotected p in v, pre-canon, poorly written '90s vibes, first time writing x reader

𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔:

Staring Down The Sun by @stellar-waves

Summary: Real men hide their feelings, at least that’s what Connor and Murphy believed in order to survive. Until Elena Jensen helps them open up through therapy before they escape prison and go back to work as the Saints. The boys learn Elena has some secrets of her own as they uncover a network of powerful crime organizations. But when a spark grows between Connor and Elena, so does the threat to the greater good.

Warnings: explicit language, canon-typical violence, suggestive sexual themes (no smut here), mentions of past sexual assault, mentions of death and grief/mourning, suggestion of suicidal ideation, blood, injury, borderline attempted sexual assault, drugging, angst on top of angst

𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔/𝑻𝒘𝒐-𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔:

Do It For Dale by @daryltwdixon

Summary: As Sarah’s best friend, you’re determined to give her the perfect 21st birthday—even if it means going behind her grumpy old dad’s back. But when the night spirals and you end up stranded, you’re forced to call the last person you want to face. And once Sarah is asleep, he shows you exactly what happens to girls who misbehave.

Warnings: smut MDNI 18+, cheerleader!reader, bratty!reader, overprotective!joel, grumpy!joel, sarah's best friend!reader, sbf!reader, bfd!joel, college au, brattamer!joel, no outbreak, pinv, reader is on birth control, blowjob, f!receiving oral, no use of y/n, riding, dirty talk, tiny bit of degradation but also praise kink, spanking, big girthy age gap reader is 21+

Pretty Girl by @daryltwdixon

Summary: You’ve never felt fully at home in your own skin, but that has never stopped Joel from showing you just how much he wants you. One night, you gather the courage to show him what you’ve been too afraid to share, and he shows you exactly what it means to be wanted, worshipped, and seen.

Warnings: smut MDNI 18+, Joel is down bad in love, self conscious reader, no physical description (except 'soft belly') but reader is insecure of their body, no specific timeline, age gap mentioned but not specified, pinv, f!receiving oral, little bit of (f!receiving) ass play, dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, soft!joel, he calls you like every pet name in the book. some aftercare

A Lil’ Something Sweet by @citrusrei

Summary: After your husbands aunt passes away, he takes on the responsibility of caring after the beloved family farm. Coming from the city after living there your whole life to moving to a huge farm in the middle of nowhere is a shock to you. But what shocks you even more is the comfort you find from the live-in farmhand, Joel Miller.

Warnings: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. no outbreak AU. non canon Joel. country side on a farm type shit. Joel is a lonely man. Kinda creepy but in a sexy way. heavy petting. thigh riding. Joel finishes in his pants. Infidelity (oops). joel's possessive but not in a toxic way (outloud). unprotected p-in-v sex. creampies. slight breeding kink if you squint right. age gap. reader is mid to late 20's and joel is pushin' 50. petnames (baby, baby doll, baby girl, darlin', ya know). readers husband is a real dick. slight fatshaming (we hate the husband). joel makes it better. lots of soft touches and kisses. fluffy, angsty, smutty. happy ending.

Slow Like Sunrise by @junojoel

Summary: You and Joel try for a baby.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, unprotected piv, breeding kink, they are making a BABY, mentions of infertility/not being able to get pregnant, mostly fluff though, sickly sweet

𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔:

Family Matters by @daryltwdixon

Summary: You and Tommy had been trying for a baby for years. When a trip to the gyno answers questions you didn’t even know to ask, your husband enlists the help of his one and only brother.

Warnings: smut MDNI 18+, pinv, no outbreak, talk of infertility, not cheating but def not exactly kosher, baby makin', breeding kink, dirty talk, size kink, boundaries being crossed

[writing-mlm]

Something angsty with Abbot

They had something going on in the army (they didn't label it) and it was pretty serious,robby knew about (they were an inseparable trio) and thought they would last forever

Until something happend and the reader didn't leave with them and continued to advace in ranks

They (all 3) meet again in the pitt to find out reader got married and had a child (the reason for the hospital visit ) and treats abbot and robby as just friends like nothing is wrong

You can continue it how you like cause this is getting long

The wounds of our parents (that I refuse to carry over)

Summary: You couldn’t be strong enough for yourself, but you’d be damned if you let your daughter feel the way you did. Pairing: Jack Abbot x Male reader Word Count: 3.4k Tags/warning: reader is married to a woman, sort of implied religious trauma, homophobia, medical talk, sick child, I headcanon Jack was in the Marines, italics is a flashback, wounds physical and emotional, not terribly angsty but still hurt/comfort imo A/n: I changed the prompt a little bc I don’t think Robby was in the military, also. while editing I learned its Abbot not Abbott...

Stolen kisses and secret glances, if that’s how Jack could remember his time in the Marines, he would’ve been a happy man. He’s reminded of you every day, sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. 

He remembers you when he ties his laces in the quick way you taught him, he remembers you when the sun warms his face, he remembers you when the silence of his apartment is so loud against his ears he can't think. He can’t breathe and— fuck he can’t even see anything. Then his phone lights up, a call. 

It reminds him of you again. You would sneak out from your barracks to meet him, a flashlight placed on the floor so you could at least see him a little. It was never much, but it was always enough. 

“My arms are killing me,” You grumble, climbing into his bed. He welcomes you, arms outstretched and a lopsided grin. It’s well past any normal guest time in the barracks, but neither of you cared. 

“No one told you to carry everyone’s bags up the hill,” He laughs as you drop into his open embrace. Immediately, he starts massaging your arms, loving the way you relax instantly. Your head drops onto his chest, sure you’re about to be lulled into a nice sleep.

“I was being nice,” You murmur. “And I was showing off,” 

“For who?” He teases. Cracking an eye open, you laugh into his shirt. Leaning forward, you kiss the underside of his jaw. 

“You,” 

His hands trail up from his neck, settling on his ears as he tries to fill the silence. His phone rings again, and he pulls himself from the memory before answering it. It’s Robby. It’s never you. 

—

Abbot’s driving into work, annoyed that he’d accidentally taken the long route, and now he’s fighting the morning traffic. It’s one of those rare occasions when he was needed for the morning shift. And he couldn’t say no. He’s about ten minutes out, waiting at a red light, when the next song starts up. The guitar strings start, and he inhales slowly, his eyes closing. 

The squad was inside of a tent, passing the time until there was something to do. Thankfully, someone had brought along a speaker, and everyone was taking turns playing music. It eventually turned into a lip-syncing competition and you were up. 

It didn’t take long before the song could start up, two of the guys laugh as they know the song, while Jack leans back. You step into the middle of the tent, using a water bottle as a microphone. You rock with the beat, each guitar string pluck is a new rock. 

“I used to think that I wasn’t fine enough, and I used to think that I wasn’t wild enough. But I won’t waste my time tryna figure out why you playing games, what’s this all about?” Everyone catches as your eyes drift to Jack’s. You continue, fake singing your heart out until you look at Jack again. 

“Oh, love! Never knew what I was missing. But I knew once we start kissin’ I found… love!” Your eyes meet, and you point at him before desperately clutching your chest. 

“Abbot’s blushin’!” One of the men laughs, smacking his arm. Jack shakes his head but doesn’t look away from you, still lip-singing. 

A car honks and he opens his eyes, the light is now green. Another honk. Smacking the wheel, he pushes forward, trying to push the memories backwards. 

It was never a relationship, at least in concrete boyfriend-boyfriend terms. But it was. It fucking was. You’d both said I love you, you both had imagined lives together, you were each other's person, and you were his and he was yours. 

And then Abbot got discharged, and you didn’t. You stayed in the Marines, something had scared you. He knows it. He knows it in his bones. He knows it like he knows the human body. 

“Hey, brother!” Robby gives Abbot a high five as he walks into the ED. Abbot blinked, his body moving on autopilot, he hadn’t realized he was at work already. “Thank you so much,” He’s almost desperate, the ED is more packed than usual. Apparently, an entire school grade had come down with random spouts of dizziness, weird vision, and vomiting. 

“Where am I needed?” He asks, glancing around the room. There are a lot of parents talking outside the on-call rooms with doctors. 

“Uh, room eleven.” Abbot nods and gets himself ready, grabbing Mohan on his way to the room. Mohan has the kids' chart and tells him the basics while he nods, still looking around. She has to leave, though— everyone has one patient. There’s not enough doctors to double up today. 

He glances at the patient's chart and stops for a small laugh, pushing into the on-call room. Jackie Maria (L/n). 

“Is your full name Jack or Jackson?” You asked, it’s the first thing you’d ever said to him. First day at boot camp and that’s what his barrack roommates says to him.

“Jack,” He responds and you nod, carefully setting your bag on your bed. 

“That’s crazy, cause I’ve always wanted to name my kid Jackie. What do you think, would he get bullied?” Jack laughs, shaking his head. He’d never been bullied for the name, and he relays as much to you. “That’s good to know.” Your smile reaches your eyes and you scan him up and down. Your heart flutters a bit and you force yourself to look away. 

You stare at him, your hand in a woman's— your wife’s hand while holding your daughter's head. Jackie. Your daughter, Jackie. She’s clutching a bucket that already has bile inside of it. She’s about twelve. Abbot checks the chart and licks the inside of his mouth. Thirteen. 

You’re in civvies, which checks out because you always hated the uniform. Hated the attention it brought when you were off base. He looks down at your wedding band, it’s simple, a thin silver ring nestled on your finger. It’s old and worn, Abbot guesses it’s older than ten years old. You preferred gold, or at least a darker silver than that. And you always wanted something a little different than the basic silver band. 

For a moment, you relax and smile. It’s the first time you’ve seen him since he left the Marines. The first time in fourteen years that you’ve honestly felt at peace. Well, mostly. Jackie throws up again and you move to rub her back. 

“I’m Doctor Abbot,” He stiffly says, closing the door behind him. He needs to be professional, there’s a sick child he needs to attend to. 

“I’m glad it’s you,” You admit, your voice is more mature than the last time he heard it. There’s a bigger bass to it and he just knows if Jackie was in Little League your voice was drowning out the crowds. He wonders if his voice would’ve done the same. 

“He usually doesn’t like doctors,” Your wife says, a little confused, and Jack nods. He knows this. He’s known this long before she was ever in the picture. 

“Jack,” You whimper, clutching his hand as you hold your bleeding leg. “It’s too high for a tourniquet.” There’s a shudder to your voice that he doesn’t like, a sort of finality that puts his stomach through the ringer. Which is odd, considering you’re on an active battlefield and something explodes in the background. 

“I got you, sweetheart,” He grunts, pulling you into a more covered area. “This is gonna hurt but do you trust me?”

“Hmm,” You nod, eyes closed tight and lips tucked into your mouth. “With my fuckin’ life, baby.”

“We were in the Marines together,” You softly explain and she hums. She’s not delighted to hear that, but she doesn’t show any outward distaste in it either. There’s some history behind that, he has a sneaking suspicion he knows what it’s about. 

“Can you give me a rundown of your symptoms, Jackie?” Abbot asks while putting on a pair of gloves on. Jackie just groans, looking for relief and finds it in you. You smile, rubbing her sweat-soaked forehead. 

“She texted me, she was in science class and was feeling lightheaded. You know diabetes runs in my family so I assumed she was starting to show signs. I told her to eat some of the snacks and drink something. She said it didn’t help. Then she said she was having trouble breathing but she felt better after class. I knew she was having a test, so I assumed it was anxiety.” You hurriedly explain, recounting her day. “And then she had lunch, she called me. She was throwing up and seeing spots. Apparently, other kids were, too.” 

“Were these kids in your science class?” 

“Some,” Jackie croaks. Abbot nods, considering most students have a similar experience, it’s probably something in the science room. 

“I want to have your blood sent in for a tox screen. It could possibly be something in the classroom. It’s sounding a bit like the flu, maybe someone was sick and spread it around the school and then maybe some food poisoning. Did you eat the school lunch?” Jackie nods but she looks at you for support. 

“It’s pizza Friday. She loves it,” You add, watching as Jackie throws up again. “Once you’re done, sit up, bud. Dr. Abbot needs you to be steady.” 

“The mess hall is serving us the good food,” You whisper, staring down at your lobster, mac and cheese, and the good mashed potatoes. “We’re getting shipped off, ain’t we?” 

“Sure are,” Jack laughs. The two of you sit side by side, not even a millimeter of space between the two of you. You drop your head, ready to succumb to your inevitable fate. 

“I would’ve preferred pizza as my final meal.”

Abbot finishes drawing Jackie’s blood and leaves the room for a moment. You watch as the doors close and sigh, knowing what’s about to come and just continue to rub the top of your daughter's head. 

“You never mentioned an Abbot before,” Your wife carefully says, messing with her nails. 

“No, Katy. I didn’t.” You agree. “I also never mentioned Tasso, or Navarro, or Dukarea. Or half of my squad before.” 

“You haven’t,” She stresses. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Looking at her, you lace your fingers together before letting your hands hang between your legs. She shrugs and looks at the door. 

“Your mother did.” She said after a beat had passed. 

“Don't bring her up,” You glare over at her. “Not now, Katy.” 

“She said something about an Abbot who was tempting—“ She doesn’t get to finish before you stop her. 

“Jackie is sick. We are not going to talk about whatever she told you, Katherine.” She pauses but eventually nods. You look at Jackie as she looks between the two of you, you hate being tense around him. You hate having fights around her, or even being slightly angry around her. It’s not a part of you that you want her to experience. 

“I’m going for a smoke,” She pushes herself from the wall as the door opens again and Abbot walks inside. 

“Okay,” You reply, not sparing her a glance. She leaves using the opposite doors, snatching her purse from the chair with an exaggerated huff. 

“I’ve sent your blood for testing. We should know within an hour,” Abbot explains and you nod, looking between him and Jackie. Your stomach twists as you imagine that this was your family. The three of you. 

“Is there something she can have for the pain?” You ask, looking between the two of them. “She’s not good with pain and I know this is a ten for her.” Weakly, Jackie nods. 

“Alright, I’m going to give you an ibuprofen. It’ll help with the nausea and the pain. If, after an hour, you’re still in pain, I’ll switch it up. Does that sound good?”

“Mhmm,” Jackie winces and then starts gagging. You help her sit up, wincing as she throws up again. 

“What if she can’t keep the pill down?” You ask, looking up at him with worry clearly written all over your face. His chest tightens, and he inhales, looking between you and Jackie. As much as he’d hate to admit it, his mind runs blank for a moment. 

“An IV drip is always an option.” Abbot explains once he composes himself. “Would you be okay with that, Jackie?” Your daughter nods and Abbot nods in response. “We’ll get that started as soon as possible.”

“Would you be a step-dad?” Robby whispers, pulling Jack to the side. They’re about to do a shift change and this is how Robby is planning on spending their small overlap together. 

“Depends,” Jack responds, crossing his arms. “Is the kid bad? Is there an affair that causes the step-parent-ness?”

“No, and no,” Robby squints. “I didn’t— I wouldn’t help someone cheat. But this woman I’m seeing has a son, we haven’t met but she wants us to. I wanted your opinion,” Jack nods, imagining himself as a step-parent. It’s hard because he keeps placing his partner as you and not some random person. 

“Yeah,” He nods. “See if you can handle that dynamic. Every step family is different,” In turn, Robby nods before leaving in a rush. Apparently soon meant tonight. 

“Has there been an update with the others?” You ask. “Jackie’s friend, Charlie. She’s here too,” 

“I can certainly ask, what’s her last name?” Turning to Jackie, she inhales. It’s shaky and it looks like it hurts her but she still tries. 

“Hunt.” She replies. 

“Charlie Hunt, got it.” He leaves again and it’s just the two of you now. 

“It’s not drugs, right?” You whisper, looking up from the door. Jackie feverishly shakes her head and you nod, trusting her. Looking back at the door, you inhale. 

A part of you hates that out of all the places you could’ve settled after the Marines, you picked the one place Jack lived and then out of all of the hospitals, this is the one your son is being treated at. But another, bigger, part of yourself loves that. Loves that you’re still connected to him after all these years. It’s like a sign. 

The door opens and you see Abbot return with Charlie. Her parents are not there yet, their jobs are hard to leave from what you remember. 

“How you feeling, Char?” You ask, a small smile on your face. 

“Not horrible, Mr. (L/n),” She replies, looking at you before her eyes lock on Jackie. “How’s Jackie?”

“Could be better,” Jackie croaks and Charlie takes the seat you’d been in. She has a small oxygen mask around her neck but it doesn’t seem like she needs it anymore. 

“I’m going to go for a walk,” You tell them to which they nod. Looking Abbot up and down, he calmly follows you into the hallway. 

“A wife,” He whispers. “How long?”

“Um,” Scratching your eyebrow, you shrug. “About fourteen years. Are you… have you gotten married?” For a moment, you look at his hand. Barren, no tan lines to indicate a ring either. 

“No.” He confirms what you already know. “Are you happy?” The pause that follows the silence is all he needs to know. Although he could’ve guessed that already, he’s seen happily married people but you and Katy? That wasn’t a happy marriage. 

“I always said you’d make a great doctor,” 

“You did,” He nods, a breathless chuckle passing by his lips. “I always said you’d be a girl dad.”

“Light of my life,” You smile. “She had a small interest in medicine, which is crazy cause she’s—“ You pause, stopping yourself. Katy walks back in from her smoke break and you blink. “She gets woozy at the sight of blood.” You finish. 

“Has anyone seen Charlie Hunt?”  A doctor calls, standing in front of an empty on-call room. “I have her lab work,”

“She’s in here, Robby!” Abbot calls. “Is (L/n)’s also done?”

“Uh,” He checks his tablet. “Yes- yup,” 

“Alright, let’s go!” That special request to speed up Jackie’s tox screen worked. Which is a first. The four of you head back to the on-call room and Katy enters without knocking. 

“What the fuck?” She shouts and you see Charlie stand up to her full height. Jackie looks between the two of you, shocked, and her heart monitor is beeping faster. She looks at you, and you know, you just know what Katy saw. “Did you know?” She spins to you, finger pointing. But you don’t see her, you don’t hear her. 

You hear the rapid beeping, you see your daughter's fear, and it’s like you’re her. It’s like you’re your father and Katy is your mother and you’re about to repeat a cycle you could never break. 

“Breathe,” Jack forces you out of the rec room and into the dark outside. The party continues inside but you can feel yourself dying. Your life is in the hands of the letter dropped off earlier in the week that you’d refused to open. “What’s wrong?” Your free hand touches the dewy grass as you sit. 

“Sweetheart,” His hand covers yours, blocking the letter from your vision. 

“Someone told my parents,” You manage out. “My mom she’s asking about why her church is whispering about her ‘faggot’ son. They know us-- they know you.” 

“I thought they knew?” 

“No,” Holding both of his hands, you kiss them softly, grounding yourself. “I never told them. That's why I left.”

You never understood why your parents were such a big part of your life, why you let their hate infect you so much. That your fear wasn’t strong enough to stop you from going to the Marines, but it was for telling your parents no. But it’s not stronger than your love for Jackie. 

“Get out,” You tell Katy. 

“Let’s see what your mother has to say about this.” She hums, digging into her purse for her phone. She’s used that line so many times and so many times you’ve given in at the expense of your peace and sanity. 

“Let’s see what Vincent has to say,” She pauses at the door, her eyes filled with pure hatred. She says fine, along with some colorful words and you sigh, joining the now crying Jackie’s side. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” Doctor Robby takes Charlie back to her room while Abbot stands there, unsure of what to do with himself. 

“I didn’t— I’m sorry,” Her cries turn to gagging and you sit her up, letting her vomit into the bowl. 

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry for not doing better,” Holding her tight, you shudder, wishing so desperately you’d been your father all those years ago. “Let’s focus on your health first, honey. And then everything else after.” 

“Alright, your tox screen does show levels of carbon monoxide and it is showing signs of food poisoning,” He turns the screen and points to an assortment of letters and numbers that only he understands. 

“Good news is-“ He turns the screen back to him. “It looks like you won’t have any long-term side effects and the nausea should lessen with time. For now, I’m going to start your IV drip and give you an oxygen mask. That’s to help your body filter out the carbon monoxide faster.” She nods, holding your hand tightly. He gently puts the oxygen mask over her and you watch as she takes a deep breath in. 

He nods to the door and you stand up. Jackie reaches for your hand, shaking her hand but you reassure her that you’ll just be outside the door. She lets go and you meet Abbot in the hallway. 

“We have social workers available,” He starts. “If you or Jackie want to talk to someone.”

“I’m definitely getting a therapist for us,” You huff a laugh. “I know divorces can be rough on kids.”

“Divorce?” He asks. 

“That’s who Vincent is. He’s my friend and a divorce lawyer. I can’t let her grow up the way I did,” 

“That’s good,” He smiles an honest smile. 

“I don’t know if you’d be up to it again, but, could I get your number?” You carefully ask. “I know Pittsburgh has that year waiting period but,” You laugh, looking away from him. “It’s been fourteen years and I’ve missed you like a motherfucker.”

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Hi there!

This is all I read this month, listed more or less in chronological order. I loved all those fics, read new authors and I was so thrilled about it, found familiar comfort in someone else, tried my best to keep this various and not only Joel Miller (I read a lot of Dieter this month and I never do that sooo. Also welcome in my dreams, Clint Flood, it's been amazing to meet you), as usual I'm still far behind in my tbr. *cries in Italian* Some fics are from my challenge, I listed them here as well because I loved everyone's dedication and I loved those stories. Read warnings and tags and if something is not for you just skip it, it’s simple and it can be done just by scrolling. I'm not responsible for the kind of content you choose to consume, only you are. If you're a minor, just stay away from my blog and this list. Please make sure to give love and appreciation to these authors, they're out there writing and delivering all these amazing stories for free! Reblog, comment, make some noise! Delicacies under the cut, bon appétit!

All my previous recs can be found here.

Edited because I’ve lost a couple of things around 🥲

❥ I feel you - @80ssong no outbreak Joel x female inexperienced reader

❥ The payout - @yxtkiwiyxt I Series Masterlist Clint (Freaky Tales) x f!reader Clint, a retired “tough guy” for hire, gets lured back into the game with a lucrative job offer: one last job for a life-changing payout. $5 million dollars. However, his plans take a twist when he meets you—his new neighbor who makes him question… everything.

❥ She’s a rainbow - @milla-frenchy Joel Miller x f!reader Joel returns after a long patrol and you greet him with a surprise

❥ Due - @cas-readsandwrites

Un named Pedro boy x f!reader

You're dancing with a handsome young man - and you shouldn't be. But is it really what it looks like?

❥ Safety Net part 1 - @gothcsz and @ovaryacted | Series Masterlist Sugar Daddy!Marcus Acacius x BIWOC!Sugar Baby!Reader Marcus Acacius finds more than what he expected on a sugar dating app.

❥ Communication breakdown - @cuppajoel Clint (Freaky Tales) x F!reader

❥ Say Ahh - @mushgloomz // Dead Dove Do Not Eat dentist!dave york x patient!reader (gender neutral)

❥ Did you miss me? - @yxtkiwiyxt Clint Flood x f!reader Clint returns after a week away for work, and you're fucking pissed because he didn't bother to call you even once. But now, all he wants is to be close to you, and he's got that irresistible way of turning things around and getting back in your good graces…

❥ Clint gets cock worshipped - @almostempty Clint Flood x f!reader

❥ Got muscle? - @clubsoft Clint Flood x f!reader clint looks good in his old t - shirt , too good .

❥ Cherry lips - @aurorawritestoescape Clint Flood x f!reader Clint and you have a simple relationship - you fuck each other and go on with your lives. Can it stay that way? What if one night changes everything?

❥ Distraction - @baronessvonglitter Dave York x f!reader You and Dave are finding it hard to forget that one night.. and a chance encounter gives you both a second opportunity..

❥ You oughta know - @milla-frenchy Clint Flood x f!reader after your ex breaks your heart yet again, you ask your dad’s best friend for a favour

❥ Without chains - @604to647

Pero Tovar x Chinese Fem!OC Reader

You help Pero shave in preparation for his journey back West with William.

❥ You ain't falling asleep again - @myownwholewildworld an old man!Joel Miller Drabble

❥ Sunrise - @tateypots Joel Miller x f!reader You love the sunrise, but it’s even better with Joel.

❥ Poison either way - @guiltyasdave Dave York x f!reader x Javier Peña Agent Peña walks in on you and Dave taking a bit of an... unusual break.

❥ Friend zone - @milla-frenchy Tim Rockford x fem!reader an event leads your best friend to reveal a secret he's been keeping from you for years, and you finally find what you've been searching for

❥ Stretched - @mandaloriankait Reed Richards x reader

❥ Little showgirl - @604to647 Modern AU Marcus Acacius x f!reader You do your roommate a favour that lands you in hot water with the head of security at Caesar’s Palace.

❥ Star-crossed - @baronessvonglitter Dieter Bravo x gn!reader On a shoot in Italy, Dieter has one of the worst weeks of his life. Perhaps one unselfish act can turn all that around..

❥ Cerchiamo insieme tutto il bello della vita (Let's look together for all the beauty that there is in life) - @maroonpascal Javi Gutiérrez x f!reader it’s summer and as every year it is time for your annual trip with your best friend, not knowing that this time you will come back home with a lover

❥ Coraline - @tateypots Protective Frankie Morales x wife f!reader

❥ For emergencies only - @myownwholewildworld oldman!jackson!joel miller x f!reader joel has a lil' accident, but you know exactly how to help. or joel cums in his boxers a bit too early and you feed him a blue pill for endurance.

❥ In this world of heroes - @joelalorian Marcus Moreno x f!reader Amid a brutal battle in Florence, Marcus Moreno realizes his heart belongs to you, a fellow Heroic. After the fight, he finally tells you the truth he's kept hidden for far too long.

❥ Chupa mi verga- not his - @stitch-away // tw:stepcest Javier Peña x male reader x Joel Miller the miller's have invited you over for one of their neighbourhood barbeques. old man miller is a flirt and your abuelo hates it

Hungry man (Chapter 2 - God the animal ) - @slimybeth69 dark&sneaky!Joel x unhinged&crazy!reader “…made me think about what it would be like if God the animal bit me with his razor-sharp fangs. God has huge poisonous fangs and he loves to bite people who follow the rules. If you follow the rules, God's going to kill you with his long teeth ; and I love knowing that.”

❥ Lunch in an elevator - Where Marcus met Cat // Part 2 of "The Assistant From Hell" - @baronessvonglitter the story of how Marcus met Cat

❥ Stumbling - @nonbinairyboi Francisco “Catfish” Morales x disabled!afab reader Frankie’s support is necessary when your symptoms flare.

❥ Starstruck - @clubsoft Dieter Bravo x bipoc!F!reader dieter eats his co-star in a field .

❥ I think of you all the time Part 1 and Part 2 - @schnarfer // Series Masterlist Young Dieter Bravo X f!reader Best friends to lovers, to worse.

❥ D X C - @whocaresstillthelouvre Bodyguard Clint Flood x Dieter Bravo x female reader Clint walks in on you and Dieter in a particular situation and decides to join in.

❥ Paying off the debt - @baronessvonglitter Joel x fem!plus size!reader x Clint when your husband doesn't pay his debt, the two men coming to collect decide on a different form of payment

❥ In need of a top up - @tateypots //tw: lactation kink No outbreak!Joel Miller x wife!reader It's Joel's turn for a top up so you pay him a visit at work.