#that gif of her putting her hand on her face god i love her so hard

[sirxlla]

Okay I have a request if you could do it, btw I love your bat bros writings

What about how would batboys be if the reader was a tailor?

You're Their Seamstress/Tailor (Batboys)

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Dick: You had bent over, and since Dick was feeling cheeky (pun intended), he swatted your ass.

"I will choke the life out of you with my tailor tape, Grayson." You smacked his arm with a laugh and a smile.

"Hey, you do it to me all the time and it's not my fault you tailor your pants so well to your body."

You roll your eyes before measuring his hips, having to slightly press your face to his stomach.

"Hey there, do I gotta pay extra or does that come included in my fitting?" He remarks, being a smartass as per usual.

You finished up measuring him and started working on his suit, at some point while watching tv he passed out on your couch. You grabbed a blanket and covered him up before returning to your work tailoring his suit. He had a gala to go to and navy really brought out his blue eyes especially when paired with a baby blue tie. The color combination was so simple but it always made him look so handsome.

"God- Fuckin- Shit! Fuck me!" He had slept for a few hours but woke suddenly when he heard you cuss.

"You okay?" He asked with concern as he pushed the blanket off him and got to his feet before quickly making his way over to you.

"Yeah, I- I'm okay, I just sliced my finger open with the scissors." You got up and rushed over to the sink and let the cold water run over it. Dick was quick to grab the first aid kit to bandage your finger.

"It's alright fingers tend to bleed a lot." He said as he noticed the worry and pain on your face. Dick opened the triple antibiotic that has pain relief, thankfully. He dried your finger, put the antibiotic on it and then the little Spongebob bandaids youd picked out which made you smile. You had always thought it was worth the extra couple cents to get themed bandaids cause they gave a smidge of dopamine as well as protection for your finger. Having Star Wars, Hello Kitty or Spongebob bandaids did a lot to help you and others feel a little bit better after an accident.

Dick kissed your finger over the bandaid as he looked into your eyes. "My- My mom always said if you kiss it, it'll heal quicker. I know it's bullshit but little things like that help a lot when accidents happen." Remembering how his mom would kiss his boo boos when he was a kid, he didnt talk about her much so when he brought her up it was heart-warming to know he trusted you with that.

"Thats why I get the themed bandaids! Its the little trivial things that mean a lot." You smiled as you were so glad he had the a smiliar outlook as you.

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Jason: It was very unsurprising when it came to how rough Jason was on everything from his guns to his jacket, to his boots so it was almost weekly that you were fixing something of his.

"Jay, how do you even tear this area?" You said as you held up the jacket that had definitely seen better days, a massive hole in the upper bicep.

"Easy, I've been working out." Jason says being a complete smartass, which you suppose is a good thing, considering if he wasn't, you would know there was something wrong with him.

"Hardy Har Har." Giving him an annoyed smirk flipping him off before grabbing your needle and thread. Unfortunately, a lot of the things that Jason needed patched up had to be hand-sewn, and so you painstakingly spent hours fixing any little holes he had.

"Angel, you know that's not nice." He laughs as he quickly quips back at you, sitting in the desk chair next to you, spinning around.

"I know, that's why I said it." You grabbed his chair and stopped him from spinning. "With the damage being the way it is, I'm most likely going to have to hold on to this for a couple of days, but I did work on something for you."

You put the jacket down so you could get back to it later and got up from your seat. Expecting him to get up and follow, but of course, him being him, he decided that it was a good idea to roll the desk chair across the floor behind you. You rolled your eyes and opened the cabinet to a fairly badass and upgraded suit.

"I worked with Lucius to improve a few things; the fibers are thicker but still breathable and light. Kneepads, chest plate, bracers and the helmet is the same design as before, but we added a better filtration system and a heads-up display on the helmet so you can track blood and run an analysis of whatever you need. The cargo pants are more tear resistant, the jackets new material but the old design." You ran him through all the little bits and pieces of the upgrades, and he almost looked in shock.

"You just did this? Like I didn't even need to ask you, you just did... I have been wondering about a new suit." The smirk that always seemed to lace his tone seemed to slip, now laced with appreciation. "How do you know I needed all this stuff?"

"Well, I talked with Bruce and Barbara on exactly what you needed technology wise and then I spoke to Lucius about the way you fight and things that are tearing and such. Considering he's done so much work with Bruce I figured he would know best and we got it figured out. If you end up not liking something let me know and we'll tweak it as needed."

"Holy shit, this is just..." He stands up from the desk chair and pushes it away from him a little bit. The wheels roll against the tile of the floor as he gazes at his new suit. "No, Angel. I have a feeling this is gonna be amazing." He grabs youand gives you a big hug, In this moment he felt so cared for and so appreciated as he squeezed you a little. "You're a goddamn genius, Angel."

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Bruce: You worked with Lucius on Bruce's suit, working with him on design and functionality. You and Bruce were arguing, the two materials he wanted to pair would make his suit heavy in the rain and he wasn't listening.

"You know what, do it your way, Bruce. Cause you're always right." You stared into his ocean blue eyes with annoyance and anger. Usually those eyes mean the world and could bring you to your knees but right now all you felt was annoyance and irritation.

"I will." He said it with a bit of a smartass tone, he was glad you backed down because he wasnt used to being questioned by anyone.

Guess what happened? The dumbass's suit was too heavy, and he ended up falling off a three-story building.

Thankfully, he's okay but now youre taking care of him. You didn't need to tell him I told you so, he knew he was wrong. While he was passed out in his bed you fixed up his suit and replaced the material that made it so heavy.

Bruce was never one for customizing his things too much but you knew how much he cared about his parents and sewed a small black rose into the undershirt of his suit. It was something he may never see or notice but it felt right considering how often he'd place roses where his parents were killed in Crime Alley, it was like they'd be with him at all times.

Bruce found it months later and immediately thought of you. He'd been thinking of you a lot and he realized how much you truly care about him by doing such little things like refill the water bottles in the batmobile and clean his suit without him asking. He sent you black roses as a thank you so you knew he saw it.

"You do so much for everyone and my family wouldnt be nearly as safe without you. I cant thank you enough. Let me take you out to dinner when you have time. - BW"

Your heart lept into your chest, you and Bruce bumped heads but it was in the same way an old married couple did, you both wanted what was best for the other. Bruce didnt want that other material cause he knew it'd be a pain for you to sew, even if he wouldn't tell you that. You wanted him safe, he knew that but you'd been busting your ass for the whole Batfamily so he asked for the other material even if in the end it did make him look stupid and dislocated one of his shoulders.

So due to that, he could at least get you to take you on a date, he needed a break too and it would be nice to get out and get away from all his kids to spend time with someone he was growing quite fond of.

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Tim: When it came to upgrading Tim's gadgets it was a pain in the ass because he always needed the newest tech and a way to upgrade it. Fortunately, when it came to the gadgets he handled that himself or he had Lucius help with it.

When it came to the suit itself it didn't need to be upgraded unless it had some serious degradation and it was getting to that point, it had holes and rips everywhere.

"No, Tim. We cant talk about it later." You spoke to him through comms as he was on patrol.

"I'm a little busy." You could hear the wind on his cape as he glided over and through the city.

"You're always busy, Tim. The suit needs upgrades and if we dont get to them now it'll be too late. If you dont wanna miss a night of patrol then we need to do it now."

"Alright, Jesus. Why do you always gotta be right?" He said with a easy-going joking tone as he landed on a roof somewhere and there was the sound of the rain patting down onto his cape.

"So I was thinking maybe some titanium coated armor, it'd be stronger but definitely wouldnt add much weight...then maybe we could keep the boots but the pants wear too quickly-"

"Yeah, all that sounds good. I trust you but I gotta go, just do whatever you want." He said as it sounded like he started fighting a group of thugs. "I gotta go, getting my ass handed to me over here. You know? Normal stuff." He said with a laugh.

You worked like a mule trying to get his suit together, referencing his measurements and the sketch you had done several versions of trying to figure which looked the best and was the most functional. Tim bounces around like a ping pong ball so you just put the new suit in place of the old one so he could try it when he got around to it.

"Hey, have you seen this suit?! This is amazing!" He asked you as if he didn't already know you made it yourself.

"I'm glad you like it." You smiled as you worked on other garments.

"I could kiss you, this is so amazing! I- I- I mean...Um, yeah. Thank you." He says as he quickly leaves the room in his suit before his face matches the red on the new chest piece.

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Damian: Being Bruce's son meant Damian would regularly have to attend galas. Damian wasnt so rough on his armored suits so mainly he needed to commision you for suits and the like.

He wasn't very talkative or sociable but secretly it was your favorite thing to do to dress up Damian like your own little Ken doll. Of course he'd never tell you but something about you lighting up everytime he needed something tailored just made his black heart just a very shades lighter.

"Mmm hmmm hmmm." You hummed to your music, your headphones on as to not disturb Damian while you fitted him with the new suit you had just finished but minutes before he walked in.

"You know you don't have to do that?"

"What?" You asked a bit concerned that you'd upset him in some sorta way.

"You can play your music out loud. I don't mind." He wanted to let you in and he could see how much you relaxed after he said that.

"I um- I don't know if you'll like it." You said concerned as you fiddled with your tailored tape.

"Well, we don't know if I will if you dont show me." Damian was in uncharted territory on talking to people and getting to know them but this felt good?

"I'm just listening to the Arcane soundtrack for this last season. It was so good." You almost started rambling but stopped, you liked Damian and didnt want him to think you were weird by going off about your interests.

"Yeah, it was pretty good, I really didn't expect that ending..."

"No, No, No! Wait! I haven't finished it. I just- I haven't had the chance. I'm on like episode four or five." You stopped him before he went on and accidentally spoiled it.

"Oh, so you haven't even got to the big parts then..."

"No, I've been working on your suit." You said as you smoothed the suit over his shoulders. The suit is a beautiful deep burgundy, the collars black with a black tie and white undershirt, simple but unique. He looks stunning, your hands held his wrist as you put on his cufflinks for him.

"We'll, I um..." Holy shit he was nervous, he'd not done this in ages...and he was never nervous but he wanted to make a good impression. He took a deep breath. "Hey, why don't you and I watch the last episodes together? Like make it a night tomorrow or something? I mean- Actually... do you have time tonight?"

"Tonight? I thought you were busy with the gala." You asked him, you didnt wanna say yes then make him feel obligated when he was actually meant to be somewhere else.

"I was but Jason and Dick can deal with it. I'd rather spend my night here with you if that's okay." You turned your face away from him as it was probably obvious that your heart was beating in eyes like an old cartoon.

"I'd love that." Your eyes glancing up at his a lot less nervous and a lot more hopeful.

That night was full of a lot of emotion from the show and you ended up a sobbing mess against his chest, thank goodness he'd changed out of the suit otherwise it would be soaked with your tears. He held you all through it and by the end of the night he was sure he was crushing on you.

-> Masterlists <-

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Epilogue

Masterlist Word count: 2.3 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: That's it guys. Thank you so much for reading and all the sweet comments. I've had a blast writing this story<3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

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'So tell me, Rafayel, did you actually set them up,' Zayne asks with a smile as he looks at the happy couple. Rafayel frowns at him. 

'No. Why would I want them to move in together? That's less rent money,' he says in an annoyed, whiny voice. But then he sighs and rolls his eyes, making his annoyed façade a lot less believable. 'I guess they look good together though.' 

'That they do,' Zayne agrees, smiling as he looks at the happy couple entering the ballroom together. 

Today, he had had the great honor of being your best man with Tara by his side as your bridesmaid. He doesn't think he's ever been prouder than he was seeing you walk down the aisle in your beautiful wedding dress with your hair and makeup all done up and the biggest smile on your face.  

It became even more beautiful when he heard the softest sob coming from the man standing there waiting for you. Tears of joy freely flowed down his cheeks as he wore a smile as big as yours. 

He's glad you've found your forever person and couldn't be happier for you. He gets to watch you grow happier and happier each and every day, gets to see you with a partner that allows you to be yourself fully and give yourself fully without taking too much. By now, he loves Sylus like a brother and can't imagine his life without him. 

As he watches Sylus and you sway over the dance floor, your first dance as husband and wife, it brings a tear to his eyes. When the song ends, you approach him with outstretched hands. He takes a quick peek behind you at Sylus to check if it's okay. Sylus nods with a calm smile as Zayne takes your hand. Together, you sway across the dance floor with Sylus gentle eyes on the both of you, smiling contently. 

'Zayne, I don't think I can ever thank you enough for everything you've done for me, for us, but still... Thank you.' 

'I'd do it again a million times to see you happy.' You smile and lean your head on his shoulder. He looks over at Sylus, who is still happily looking at the two of you. It is truly a gift that you two managed to end up together like this. The happiness that has been granted to you is a gift from the gods, truly. He can only hope he'll find something like this for himself. 

'Remind me to introduce you to one of my colleagues,' you say with a cheeky grin, 'I think you'll like her.' 

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'Wait, stop,' you giggle, pushing Sylus off you. The man has been leeching on your neck ever since people started leaving. He pouts at you but lets you do what has to be done. Which is unlocking the door to your shared apartment. When you push the door open, he picks you up and you squeal. 'What are you doing?' 

'Carrying my bride over the threshold,' he states proudly as he walks into the apartment. He closes the door with a kick and carries you straight to the bedroom where he gently puts your back on your feet. 'Would you grant me the honor of taking off your dress?' 

'If you promise me we'll take a shower after.' His pout reappears. The man was banking on something else happening, but you have been in a heavy dress all day and you truly want to wash the day away. It was beautiful and a memory that you'll never forget, but you can almost feel your skin itch under your makeup. 'Please?' 

'Anything my wife wants, my wife gets,' he agrees and walks around you to busy himself with the beautiful pearl buttons on the back of your dress. 'You were enchanting today. Truly in my top five of your most beautiful moments.' 

'Top five? Is it even number one?' 

'No, number one will always be when I woke up with you after we finally had the talk. But it's a good number two.' You giggle as you feel his hands gently work your buttons. Each inch of freed skin is kissed lovingly. 

'What are the others?' 

'Five is when I saw you for the very first time. I was having a terrible time setting up my apartment and you came over with that bottle of whiskey.' You let out a chuckle. 

'You were so rude to me.' 

'I was, but you were beautiful. Even if you did look annoyed,' he adds and continues his list, 'number four is the first time you let me eat you out.' Another chuckle leaves your lips, but then you feel his hands on your hips as he kneels down onto the floor. 

'And number three will be waking up with you tomorrow. The first time waking up with you as my wife,' his voice sounds a little wobbly. When you look over your shoulder, you can tell he has tears in his eyes. With the last button undone, you turn and kneel on the floor with him, taking his face in your hands. He instantly leans into your touch, eyes closing to focus on the warmth you spread through his body. 'I could've never imagined we would've made it this far if it hadn't been for your stubbornness.' 

It almost sounds like a joke, but he means it wholeheartedly. 'And I would do it again and again, a million times if I have to, if that means I get you as my husband,' you tell him, not a trace of uncertainty in your words. His eyes open again and he looks at you, taking in your figure. The dress draping off your shoulders, your makeup so perfectly done, the honestly in your face. 

'I don't know what I've done to deserve you, but it must've been pretty damn good,' he tries to joke, but a tear slips out. Your thumb wipes it away and you lean in to press a kiss on his lips. It's searing hot, a burning promise to stand beside him whatever may come next. 

As lips part, he seems much better. You smile and get up from your knees, offering him your hand. 'Now, I think it's about time we consummate this marriage.' He takes your hand and gets up, pressing a kiss on your cheek. 

'Sweetie, I know you're tired. Let's just take a shower.' 

'Fine,' you pretend to be annoyed, but he sees right through it. 'I'm waking you up with a blowie though.' 

'If I ever say no to that, shoot me.' 

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Despite both being drained from the wedding, you talked for hours. About the past, the present, the future. Little things you hadn't admitted to each other, like Sylus secret love of Fleetwood Mac and your extreme love for- and fascination with sunsets. By the time you both fell asleep, it must've been three or four am. So you aren't really surprised that you wake up with the late morning sun bathing the whole room in a warm orange. 

However, you could've slept for much longer had it not been for a certain someone sucking hickeys on your thighs. With a sluggish movement, you pick up the covers and see Sylus between your legs. Each of his arms wrapped around a thigh, your underwear nowhere to be seen, and a cheeky grin on his lips when he meets your eyes. 

'I thought I said I was going to give you a blowjob.' 

'Well, the day is still young,' he rasps, his voice still full of sleep, 'and I intent to show my wife how much I love her first.' My wife. The words make his stomach tingle the same as they do for you. 

'Okay, but push the covers off. I want to see my husband.' 

'Yes ma’am.' He throws off the covers in one swift motion and plunges right into his breakfast. Right away, flattening his tongue against your clit and licking a thick stripe. Your back arches as you whimper his name. After that, there's no stopping him. 

He plunges two fingers into you and eats like a man starved, like he needs your pussy to stay alive. His fingers pump and curl deliciously inside of you while your body moves uncontrollably, only staying in place because of Sylus’ tight grip on your thighs. The room is filled with moans and whimpers of Sylus’ name. He revels in it. 

Before you know it, your orgasm washes over you. As you try to steady your breathing, Sylus moves from his spot which is slightly uncharacteristic for him. Usually, he tries to get you on the edge of a second orgasm first. 

'My beautiful wife, would you grant me the honor of fulfilling a fantasy of mine,' he asks between kisses as he makes his way slowly to your mouth, placing a loving kiss right on your lips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close to you. 

'And what would that be, husband?' 

'Remember that video in my bathroom of me jerking off?' You nod. 'That was the evening after the party. I heard you masturbating and I started imagining being with you. Holding you. I'd like to fuck you how I imaged I would.' 

'Is this something we need a traffic light system for?' He shakes his head. 

'No, none of that. I just want you to stay laying here, just like this and,' he gently lifts your legs until your feet are planted on his mattress, thighs far enough apart to allow space for him. He takes your hands and move them into the hair on the back of his neck. He spreads his legs, sitting on his heels as he gently lines his length up to your pussy. 'Is this alright for you?' 

A smile spreads across your face. This is nothing special. It almost makes you blush that he would imagine such a normal scene and get off so hard on it. You nod and pull on his hair. 'Fuck me, Sylus.' 

He slips in gently and leans closer to press his lips on yours, setting a gentle pace as he kisses you deeply. But you quickly get enough of the slow pace and pull his hair again to separate his lips from yours. 'Quicker, please,' you beg, looking desperate and longing for release. With a smile, he starts driving his length into you at a quicker pace. An orchestra of the little sounds you make fills the room once more. It's so much more beautiful than he imagined back then, so much more beautiful. Your eyes are focused on him and only him. 

'You're absolutely stunning, sweety,' he tells you as he leans closer, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you closer, his lips exploring the expanse of your neck and shoulders. Your hands slip out of his hair and onto his back, your nails leaving works of art on his back in despair. One of his hands leaves your body, moving between the two of you to rub your bundle of nerves, helping you closer to a state of ecstasy. 

'Sylus, you feel so good,' you manage to moan out, clawing your way as close to him as you possibly can. In response, he pulls you up into his lap and holds you close to his chest, as close as humanly possible, while picking up the pace and drilling into you. 

Your moans become louder and you are so grateful the bedroom doesn't border on another apartment as you hear the bed creak pitifully. In a terrible attempt to silence yourself as you rapidly get closer to the edge, you bite down on his collarbone. He groans out your name in a mixture of pain and pleasure. The feeling tips him over the edge. 

His hands grab your hips so hard you're sure it'll bruise, severing you the same mixture of pain and pleasure to help you tip over the edge and fall into the abyss with him. Your teeth let go of his skin as you whole body shakes in pleasure. Sylus holds you close, his arms wrapping around your body like a safety net whilst his hips jerk up to help you ride through your orgasm. 

When he feels your shaking subside, he gently lays you down on the bed and slips out of you. A pathetic whine slips from your lips as your face contorts in disagreement, but all he can see is his beautiful wife. His absolutely perfect wife who is so willing to give herself to him. 

He lays down and snuggles up to you, arms wrapping around your body like they're meant to be there. 'You did perfect.' 

'Sylus?' He hums in response, eyes already closed again, ready for a nap. 'Can I say that I am absolutely flattered that this is what you thought of doing with me the first time you met me?' 

'You can, but do remember that I first fell for you because you were being a brat,' he retorts. There's a chuckle in the back of your throat, but you force it down and huff instead, pretending you're that bratty again. A rumbling laugh goes through his chest. 'I'm joking.' 

'You're really not.' 

'No, I'm not. I still love you though.' The biggest grin spreads on your face, basking in the bliss that this beautiful man loves you. It's something that you didn't see coming, but when you first saw him it hit you like a semitruck. You truly couldn't be happier than you are when you're with him and you hope you'll ever find the words to truly express that to him. 

'I love you too.' 

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[formylovetodaryldixon]

"His only one." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

You are his only one, he told you that the day you got married, that's why you don't mind the neighbors' blatant flirting with your husband, but the third time's the charm, and at that moment, you make clear to her that his ass belongs to you (literally)

A/N: I saw a post here about someone asking to write about Daryl and the flirty neighbors making him feel uncomfortable haha ​​so this is my failed attempt, although it made me smile a little so I hope you like it at least a little, too. Thanks!

The first time it happens, you let it go.

It's not that you don’t care, but you know that a relationship is built on trust, and if there is one person you trust even if someone had put a blindfold on you, it would be Daryl. Daryl was quiet most of the time, but his personality was actually very funny after you saw who he really was when you two were alone, when you saw his true self behind his crossbow and the way he used to push others away for fear of getting too attached. But when Daryl became open about showing his own vulnerabilities, only with you, it was so easy to fall for him, plus, the love and shyness in his gaze every time he saw you coming was sweet—a love only reserved for you.

After he let you in, you realized he had a lot to offer as a person with a good and brave heart, so willing to protect others even if it put his own at risk. Daryl was always a good company: he spoke little but paid attention, remembering even the smallest detail that you swore was unimportant, just because to him, everything related to you was important. But when he asked you to marry him along the way, that was a big surprise, however, you found a shelter in his arms, a real home with him: and maybe because his gaze always made you trust that there would be no one else, you never doubted him even after you saw how the neighbors turned to look at him. Maybe it was also because everyone was focused on his exterior, on that almost pornographic image that he was, (with his broad shoulders, his arms in that sassy sleeveless shirt, and that face that seemed carved by God when HE was in a VERY good mood) but no one paid attention beyond the obvious, so you never felt threatened.

Now, slowly, like a pretty moving photograph, the sun starts to hide away in the infinite horizon, painting the calm sky of that new world with beautiful shades of orange. The end of the day is quiet on your home, with your husband sitting on the porch steps, carving an arrow because several are never enough, Carol on the wooden floor close to you while she solves another crossword puzzle, and you, rocking lazily in the rocking chair, eyes and mind on the book you managed to find in the last search for supplies.

A comfortable silence abounds in the air, until Miss Ellis walks by on her way to her own home.

"Hi, neighbor." She purrs, with a bright smile and the way the corner of her lip curls like a kitten's.

Like meerkats when danger is latent, the three of you raise your heads (almost in a comical way) to see her walking away, watching her lowering the hand with which she had just greeted Daryl, and only Daryl: although his first reaction is to look in your direction, like he’s asking for help to understand what the hell was that. You know Daryl has a tough exterior, but his personality, when it came to accepting flirtations, almost reached the point of stuttering.

“Wait a sec, weren't there three of us here?” Carol asks, frowning playfully.

“Yeah… did we suddenly become Casper the damn Friendly Ghost?” You chuckle, turning your attention back to the book. “Not to state the obvious, but I think the neighbor has a crush on you, love.”

Carol chuckles too, but your disinterest in the matter and his best friend's mockery makes Daryl frown.

“What are ya waitin' for, woman? Go over there and defend yer husband’s honor.”

Carol shrugs, agreeing with him.

“Well, she just looked at Daryl like he was a piece of meat, (Y/N).”

You nod, but you don’t even bother to look up.

“I know. But going there would only prove that Daryl have some interest in her, and since I know he doesn’t, I don’t see why I should bother.”

Daryl scoffs, but he knows you are absolutely right, so he returns his attention to the arrow.

“I see ya're not even the slightest bit afraid of losin’ me, woman.”

Carol chuckles at your silence.

"Yeah, (Y/N), I mean, Daryl's such a great catch, especially with his gruff personality."

You chuckle.

“I know. I know the neighbors have been staring at him ever since we arrived in the community, but I don't blame them because, look at him..." From top to bottom, you point at him with one hand, still paying attention to the words in the book. "Daryl is like walking porn."

Carol laughs, longer this time, but your unfiltered words make Daryl blush under the sunset as he keeps his eyes down, still carving the same arrow.

The second time it happens, you are a little far to say something.

At the end of the day, you arrive last to the community meeting after your rotating job at the infirmary, taking your place against the concrete wall in Deanna’s backyard. Alexandria’s head keeps talking, directing people and you pay attention for a moment, until your sight catches the image of Mary, probably one of the most striking neighbors, and the way her mischievous fingers try to touch the exposed skin of Daryl’s bare arm as she keeps trying to make a conversation with him, who looks like a kitten cornered in an alley by a pack of dogs.

The comparison makes you laugh, but you stifle the laughter with a gentle smile when some of the neighbors in front of you turn to look at you. Waving back, they turn their attention to the front, and you keep your eyes ahead too even after you feel your husband’s presence next to you, after a very short while.

“What did I miss?”

Daryl shrugs.

“The same shit as always. How was work?”

“Quiet, just two people with a cold and a baby who came for his second vaccine.” You try to keep a calm expression as you speak your next words through a softer voice. “You are a grown ass man, Daryl Dixon, and yet you looked terrified of a small woman.”

Embarrassed, he grunts.

“What do ya want me to do? Fight her? That’s yer job n ya ain’t doin’ it.”

You chuckle.

“I don’t fight over a man, love, never did, never will.”

Daryl crosses his arms over his chest, eyes still ahead.

“I forgot ma wife is the most unbothered person in this damn world.”

You chuckle again.

“There are priorities even in this life, my dear husband, but if you want, next time we go on a supply run we can take her with us, and something mysterious can happen to her. We can make it look like an accident.”

You’re joking and Daryl knows it, but he chuckles, the corner of his lips curling adorably.

When the meeting is over and everyone returns to the safety of their homes, you and Daryl are one of the first to leave, walking side by side to your house that is almost on the other side of the community. The weather is warm during that season, and for the first time in a long time, the night doesn't grow deeper, darker or scarier. However, your gaze travels from the moon illuminating your path to your hand when you feel your husband's on yours.

You frown, making an amused expression.

"What are you doing?"

Daryl mimics the look on your face.

"What? I can't take ma wife's hand?" He scoffs, making you shrug, so you look ahead again, ignoring some neighbors behind you, with Mary between them since her house is close to yours.

But you know why he's doing that like never before. Daryl is reserved with his married life, always keeping his displays of affection within four walls, too shy and slightly awkward to let other people see who needy for your love he became sometimes.

"But… ain’t yer job to mark yer territory or some shit like that? Like, make it clear for her that I'm yer husband?"

You frown playfully, looking back at him.

“I'm not a damn dog, Daryl. Or do you want me to pee on your leg or something?"

A little surprised, Daryl chuckles.

"Are ya really not worried? Or slightly jealous?"

You shrug again.

“No. I mean, I trust you, but if you start bringing squirrels just for her, that’s when I will get worried. You are like those cute penguins who bring the most beautiful stone to the love of their life: believe me, the squirrels are your stones.”

Daryl chuckles, letting go of your hand only to slide it over your shoulders and pull you into him, doing it because he wants to.

The third time it happens, you intervene.

A few minutes earlier, you walked out of your house to sit on the rocking chair with a sandwich on a plate, eager to continue with your book after a successful supply run. Daryl and Rick took the lead to leave the things found in the community warehouse, walking down the street towards your house about half an hour later. But too engrossed in old poems from the last century, you miss the way Daryl is intercepted by Ellie two houses away, until the voice of one of your family members catches your attention.

"Aren't you going to save your husband, (Y/N)?" Rick chuckles, standing near the porch steps. You follow his gaze, lingering on the way that every time the female neighbor tries to make a subtle step, Daryl takes one back. “Please, do, this went from being funny to being sad.”

You roll your eyes, leaving the book aside.

“Fine.”

“Wait... are you going to fight her?” With his gaze slightly more open, Rick stands there as you walk past him. “Because I've seen you take out walkers for less.”

“Goodnight, Rick.”

He chuckles, walking towards his own home.

Maybe it's your height, maybe it's the way your gaze turned deep, serious, with a quiet but menacing personality when the occasion called for it, but there's something about you that makes the neighbor take a step back when you stop next to them, slapping your husband’s butt playfully but almost shamelessly, almost making him jump in place.

“Whatcha doing, buttercup?” You smile at him, with his surprised look on you, even after you turn your attention to Ellie. “Hi, neighbor, I didn’t see you there like the way you didn't notice me last week when you greeted my husband. Ellie, right?”

She nods, surprised by your calm outburst.

“Don’t be scared please, I’m not going to hurt you, although, I could, you know? But I just wanted to ask you nicely not to try to suck all the air out of my husband’s face because you make him uncomfortable, and he’s not going to do anything about it, but I will: trust me, I’ve killed people for less, so imagine what I’d do for his ass, which is mine, so… yep, I guess that’s it.” Keeping the cutest smile you can muster, you take Daryl’s hand to make him walk with you. “Say goodbye to the neighbor, sweetheart.”

As all words have left Daryl’s mind, he simply waves goodbye once. And he lets himself be guided in silence until you are within the four walls of your home, but once the door lock has clicked and a second after you let go of his hand, he catches it again to pull you towards him, lifting you up in those strong arms of his until you have no choice but to tighten your legs around his waist.

Daryl is smiling, in the way he only does with you.

"Fuck, woman, I don' know if I'm scared of ya, impressed, or turned on."

You chuckle.

"Your ass is mine, Dixon, why do you think I married you?"

He chuckles along with you, before pressing his lips to yours.

@fluffy-dixon

[starkwlkr]

you are my love | cillian murphy

barbenheimer series

“My beautiful boy, my little beautiful boy.” Y/n kissed her baby boy’s cheek repeatedly, earning a giggle from the boy. “My lovely beautiful boy, all mine.”

“Don’t forget me.” Cillian chuckled as he rolled over to face Y/n and Alexander. It was Christmas morning and the Murphy household didn’t have any big plans.

“We can’t forget about daddy. You two are my beautiful boys.” Y/n whispered, holding Alex close to her. “Good mornin’ my love.”

“It’s always a good morning with you two.” Cillian replied, pressing kisses to both Y/n and the baby.

Baby Alex giggled more and tried get his father to carry him. It was truly amazing seeing how Alex was growing everyday, but it made both parents sad. They wanted their little boy to stay little forever.

“Come on then, let’s go make mammy some breakfast then we can open some presents.” Cillian stood up from the bed, putting on his slippers and grabbing Alex from Y/n’s arms.

“I think Alex said he wanted waffles for breakfast.” Y/n smiled cheekily at Cillian. She copied Cillian’s actions and soon the Murphy family was in the kitchen getting breakfast ready.

Y/n picked out a record and placed it on the record player. She had a tradition of always playing the Charlie Brown Christmas album so of course that’s the one she chose to play. When Alex heard the first few notes of the opening song, he smiled at his mother.

“Someone’s a Peanuts fan.” Y/n smiled back at her baby boy. “We could go into town, maybe take Alex to see the lights.” She suggested as she started getting out orange juice from the fridge.

“I think he’ll be mesmerized by them. My mam told me I used to stare at the lights on the tree as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.” Cillian explained.

“You’d like that, right?” Y/n walked towards Cillian and Baby Alex. She grabbed his tiny hand and lightly kissed it repeatedly, Alex bursting out into giggles.

After spending the day listening to Christmas music, opening presents and watching Christmas films, Alexander was exhausted. He was out like a light the second his mother put him down in his crib. Thankfully Alexander was an angel when it came time to go to sleep. After adjusting the baby monitor to the proper settings and leaving the night light on, Y/n walked back to the kitchen to help Cillian clean up.

“I can’t get enough of those little snores! I want him to stay a baby forever.” Y/n started picking up wrapping paper and tossing it into the bin.

“Change diapers forever? I’m not too fond of that,” Cillian teased, continuing with the dishes. “I can already picture you crying when Alex starts his first day of primary school.”

“Like you won’t sob at the sight of him with his school bag and his school uniform. Oh god, he’s going to be so cute in those little uniforms! Thanks for putting that image in my head! Now I’m going to cry even worse when that day finally comes.” Y/n playfully slapped Cillian’s arm.

“You won’t be the only one.” Cillian softly chuckled. Once he was done with the dishes, he dried his hands on the dish towel.

“Speaking of the future . . . I got offered a role. But I haven’t confirmed anything. It’s for DC comics.” Y/n said. It had been a while since she was back on a film set. She couldn’t even remember when her last day filming was.

“If you think I’m going to talk you out, you’re crazy,” Cillian turned to face her. “What role?”

“Harley Quinn. A Suicide Squad movie is being made. I got a script and the complete filming schedule. If I say yes to the role then I would start filming in April next year in Ontario.” Y/n explained.

“That’s great. But by the sound of it, you don’t seem convinced.” Cillian took notice of her facial expression. Y/n did want to return to her job, but the thought of leaving Alexander scared her. If she did say yes then it would be a disaster since Cillian and her would be away filming.

“Alexander needs me.” Y/n sighed. “I feel like I’m a bad mother if I go back to work. He’s just so little! Some mothers wait until their child is entering primary school and then they go back to work! What kind of mother will that make me?”

His expression softened, his hands coming to rest gently on her arms. “A mother who loves her son and her career. A mother who’s allowed to have both.”

She looked down, biting her lip. “But what if it doesn’t work? What if it’s too hard?”

“Then we figure it out,” he said simply. “Together.”

Y/N exhaled shakily, her fingers curling around the fabric of his sweater. “I don’t want this to hurt us. What if it’s too much—being apart, both of us working? What if—”

“Hey,” he interrupted softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nothing is going to make me walk away from this—from us.” He let his hand rest against her cheek, thumb grazing her skin. “We’ll make it work, no matter what. If you take the role, I’ll support you. If you decide to stay home, I’ll support you. You have me either way.”

Her eyes glistened, the weight of her worries easing just a little. “You really think we can do this?”

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I know we can. We’ve gotten through everything else, haven’t we? We’ll get through this too—together. Because you’re my love.”

As if on cue, Alexander’s cries coming from the baby monitor on the counter interrupted them.

“I love you and Alex so much.” Cillian placed a kiss on her lips before leaving to comfort the crying child.

Maybe it wouldn’t be easy. Maybe it would be messy and complicated. But with Cillian by her side, she knew they’d make it work.

TAGLIST

@leclercloml @butterfly-skinnylegend @rockerchick05 @equallyshaw @agustdpeach @celesteablack @hnybitches @ietss @probablypossesedbysatan @kittyrumbl3r @electrobutterfly @knpgituloh @butlersluvbot @captainwans @bellstwd @theekileypage @marti-su @multifans-things @ceruleanrainblues @litterallnobody @jackierose902109 @sinarainbows @cosniffee @thatgirlthatreadswattpad

[faiszt]

⠀⠀⭑⠀𝆬⠀⠀CLOSE ENOUGH:⠀✴⠀ r. cameron.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ minors do not interact.

PAIRING:⠀s2!rafe x stalker!reader.

†⠀⠀LISTEN TO:⠀close enough by ava morse.

wordcount: 3.7k⠀⠀|⠀⠀CONTAINS: ⠀ smut content. violent behavior. obsessive behavior. hard / strong language. drug mentions. kidnapping. face sitting. rough sex. slightly size kink. p in v. unprotected sex. dirty talk. face fucking & tits sucking.⠀ minors who interact with this will be blocked.

꒰ SILLY NOTES:⠀hi, sweets! i still don’t have a masterlist and stuff, i know, but i just really needed to write this. also, this is my first time writing a smut in my life, so... forgive me for any mistakes, i swear i'm trying and i’d be so happy if you could tell me what you think of it.⠀⠀⠀⠀(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) 💬 ♡

there were two perfect words to describe you from what rafe thought: kind and sweet. so sweet, the kind that made him stop and think ‘what hole did you crawl out of?’ well, in a honest answer, the hole you crawled out of was hell. this isn't a silly little joke, it's reality, your sweetness was the perfect counterpart to the kind of obsessive and insane devil you've become since the day you laid eyes on him.

it took rafe longer to figure this out than you had anticipated before starting this freak game between you.

if he needed someone lovely, you'd be her. if he needed someone gentle, you'd be her. but, if he needs someone as crazy and fucked up as he is? his lucky day, you were all of that without even having to hide it with cute clothes and a damsel in distress demeanor.

150 days that you knew him, 150 photos of him kept in the last drawer of your dresser, right under your panties like a stupid plan not very calculated, but existing. a photo a day that you wisely chose every time you followed him around like an abandoned puppy, finding out things about him and his life was part of the shameless fun.

and each time he accidentally noticed you, you acted as he expected you to act. a confused expression and a gentle smile, pretending you were doing anything that a weirdo would, acting like it was purely fate putting you in the same place as him. what kind of shitty fate was this? god could only be punishing you for putting you in each other's lives.

but, no siege was impossible to close, and eventually, the pieces fell right into place in his mind. too late, he was the little mouse that bit the cheese in the mousetrap.

not that his insanity had reached its limit—you were never any different from that—it was just something you wanted to do and felt he needed, given how much stress you'd watched him go through lately. it wasn't wrong, was it? it was just love, no matter how strange, violent, and intense.

just a little help, you wouldn't hurt him... you'd just show that you can take care of him as well as anyone else since no one would take care of him if not you. plus, in the meantime, he could taste his own medicine with someone just like him, or worse.

“what the...” his eyes opened with difficulty, a throbbing pain in his head and his body limp, tingling, almost struggling to move. a dimly lit room, definitely not his room, unless he had been drugged enough to forget how he got there—which was what it looked like. “that’s all i needed now.” rafe thought he was talking to himself.

until he notices you there, sitting in front of your desk, swinging your feet with only one side of the earphone in your left ear, scribbling something. how cute, he thought, not thinking really much about it and when he did, well, he knew he was so fucked.

hands tied to the headboard, he wouldn't even question how you managed to drag him there, but there he was, gagged on a girl's bed. he could kick you if you came near, if it weren't for the clear fact that you both knew he wouldn't do it, first 'cause he wasn't afraid of you, second 'cause he wanted to know how far you'd go.

honestly, if you didn't go all the way, he'd make you go all the way with him since you were the one who brought him here, you had to do something about it now.

“are you plannin’ to make me die here or just playin’ some insane weirdo game, princess?” he shifted around, trying to find a comfortable position—even though nothing felt comfortable when his wrists were gagged. he was just trying to get your attention. was it strange that he was finding this too interesting and appealing to simply want to run away?

you turned in your chair, taking the earphone out as you left your pencil on the table. his eyebrows slowly rose when he noticed you was you, the acting was good, he had to admit, not every girl who was into him would simply gag him in her bed like he was her own doll. it was confusing, arousing, a lot of things his mind was trying to think about.

“you looked stressed, i just wanted to make you relax.” you mumbled with a sweet, albeit fake, smile, still swinging your feet in the air. so handsome, you thought, watching him with his disheveled hair and looking so vulnerable to you. “are you relaxed, rafe? or you need me to help you again?” 'cause there wasn't a single thing you wouldn't do for him at this point.

your smile only made him let out a nasal laugh, looking away for a brief moment as he stared at the ceiling. “nice way to relax someone, huh?” he scoffed. “but, since you’re offering... i think i’d be more relaxed if you let my wrists go from that rope.” he tried to suggest, blue eyes looking at you again with a disguised pleading, as if he could actually convince you like that.

“you look better this way.” you grumbled, standing up and walking over to sit on the edge of your bed, his knee lightly brushing against you for a moment. “but, if you wanna leave, i’m not really stopping you. just say the word and we both pretend it never happened.”

“but, i don’t wanna pretend it didn't happen... and i don’t wanna leave either.” he wouldn't say it out loud, but secretly he thought you were kinda wimp. what? you just do all of it and brought him here to... well, nothing? no, no, he knew you could do better than that. “i want you to do what you wanna do, or have you bitten off more than you can chew? don’t tell me you’re that stupid, princess.”

for a man gagged in your bed, he sounded very confident and intimidating in every word. he wanted you to do it so badly, whatever the fuck you had in mind, 'cause it was turning him on to see you do this to him. “come on, you know you didn’t gagged me in your bed to let me leave.”

and, as expected, what he said had exactly the effect he wanted. in less than a minute, your legs were on either side of his hips, straddling him as he looked up at you with a smug little smirk, not caring about the darkness in your eyes. you looked hot like that, he didn't really care about the implications of fucking you without using his hands.

“you talk too much, cameron.”

“then, you should shut my mouth.”

the implication of his words had almost immediate consequences. you bent over him, hands on both sides of his head, pinning him even further into the mattress as you pressed your lips hard against his. there wasn't one percent of delicacy in that messy kiss, just hunger and desire and rafe noticed it, feeling his blood rush to his lower half.

he moaned softly against your lips as he returned the not-so-loving affection, letting your tongue invade his mouth as if he was completely at your mercy—and he, actually, was. not that rafe had ever agreed to be on the bottom very often, but if it ended with you riding him, then it was for a good cause.

when you had the urge to separate your lips from his, it was like being woken up from a trance, he didn't say anything and if his wrists weren't gagged, his hands would be saying something for him. he ran his tongue over his reddened lips, slightly swollen from the inner contact, as if he wanted to know if the remnants of your taste were still there.

“y’know,” rafe started talking after a few seconds, noticing how breathless you looked from just one kiss. it was kinda cute, he'd give you credit for that. “if i wasn’t gagged here, you’d already be face down in that pillow.” he said with such conviction that you had to roll your eyes, thrusting your hips down only to see his facade tremble at the small contact over your clothes.

“yeah, yeah, but you’re gagged and i’m on top.” you gave him a mocking smile, gently patting his cheek before grabbing his chin, making him look straight into your eyes. “and that’s a lose-lose, for you, not for me.”

“lose-lose? i don’t see it that way, sweetheart,” his blue eyes dropped downwards, indirectly giving you the message that it wasn't bad for him when you were the one straddling him in your bed on any given day. “i’m just wonderin’ when you’re actually gonna act beyond these boring little kisses and put that pussy to sit on somethin’.”

“you’re talking too much again, cameron.” you shook your head in disapproval, sighing deeply as you pretended to think about what you were going to do to him. “but, since you want me to do something and i want you to shut up...”

you let the words hang in the air as you got off his lap, standing in the corner taking off your shorts and panties quickly, but to rafe it looked more like you were doing it in slow motion. every second counted and he was already missing your weight against his lap.

kinda ironic... that he was so comfortable being gagged in the bed of a girl he must have seen less than five times in his life. but, rafe never thought straight and he wouldn't start doing that now. it was even pleasurable for him to know that you were obsessed with him to that point. you might have been in physical control, but you both knew better than that.

despite the tension, you were on top of him again. knees on the mattress, your hands holding onto the headboard, the best way to shut him up and he wasn't really complaining about it, in fact, this was exactly what he wanted from the moment he thought of the possibility. a devious smile formed on his lips, his tongue moistening them for a brief moment as you graced him with that sight. shit, he wanted to touch you so badly, but he'd have to do it only with his tongue for now.

his tongue slowly passed through your wet folds like a tease of power, you might be on top, but he had his share of power too and he'd make sure to remind you of that. “you taste so good, princess...” he smirked against your cunt, giving it a brief suck before running his tongue over it again, only to see your expression falter and a shiver run through your body. “like a fuckin’ lollipop, so sweet.”

you placed more of your weight on his face, closing your eyes gently as you rubbed your clit against the tip of his nose, feeling his tongue suck hungrily between your wet folds. “mmhm...” you allowed yourself to let out a moan, looking down as your hips rocked over his face, his blue eyes fixed on you, attentively wanting to see you break under the touch of his tongue. he didn't want to miss a single detail of it.

rafe's pants were tightening around his crotch, his thoughts were hazy and he could only think of one thing: you and the dirty little noises that escaped your throat. he wanted to hear each of those and he wanted to be the reason for them. no one else, just him and he hoped you had used your weird obsessive behavior to understand that he was possessive as hell.

but, you were going far, he could feel it, pressing yourself harder and harder against his face and suddenly, the sound of the rope coming loose. your eyes opened in confusion, still numb from the brief pleasure he gave you, only for you to notice his hands loose from the rope, his wrists not even red. “what...? how?” you whispered, looking between his wrists and his face between your legs.

then, he pushed you back, not too hard, just enough to make you fall back onto the mattress and get off of him. “y’know... you’re bad at tying ropes, really bad,” he grumbled, sitting down on the bed before using one of his hands to pull you closer, climbing on top of you with an even more sinister smirk than before. “but, that’s good, it means i can touch that pretty little body of yours now.”

rafe didn't want to wait for you to have any reaction to that, he already waited for too long pretending to really be gagged in your bed, he didn't give a damn if he should've waited a little longer, he got what he wanted.

he pinned you against him and the mattress, crashing his lips against yours as he kissed you violently, as if he was trying to mark you or, maybe, he just really wanted to mark you. his tongue didn't ask for entry, it just invaded your mouth, making you feel your own taste, exactly as he wanted.

“did you like to taste your own sweetness, baby?” he whispered against your lips, sucking your bottom lip before kissing you again. “guess i have to take care of you now, don’t i? you’ve been following me around like a good puppy... i think you deserve a reward.” he pulled away from your face a little, only for his hands to go towards your shirt, pulling it over your head.

on a normal day, he'd take more of his time with you, but not today. today he was a little too eager for this, today you wouldn't go unnoticed by him.

“so sweet...” his fingers caressed your belly before he moved his lips down your neck, making sure to press wet kisses against it before moving down a little further and lightly biting your collarbone. you heard the sound of one of his hands going down to his pants, undoing his belt without any difficulty, as if he had done it many times before, and he did.

pants and boxers on the floor, he was hovering over you with an expression of hunger and desire, one of his fingers running over your cunt, he wanted to feel with his fingers how wet and ready for him you were. he patted your thigh, a warning for you to open it wider for him. you looked so pretty like that that he even felt like sucking you again. but, no, this time he wanted to make you feel everything.

rafe bent over you again, lips against yours, a cheap deception only for him to thrust his fully hard cock inside you. you opened your legs wider in shock, but you didn't push him away, you just moaned painfully against the sudden impact and he liked it, he really liked the way you lost your composure when he had no mercy on your tight little pussy.

no niceties or "just the tip", you were a weirdo who stalked him and he'd give you exactly what you wanted when you drugged him and took him to your bed. the kind of fuck that would leave you sore for days, and when you forgot about the pain, then he'd fuck you again... and again... and again.

he lifted your body a little, holding your legs as he slammed relentlessly inside your tight cunt, his cock was having trouble getting all the way inside you, but he didn't really care, he'd make it fit. “what happened to all that attitude, pretty girl? where did that "lose-lose" go?” he went deeper, making you sink into the mattress as you tried to contain the loud moans that wanted to escape your mouth.

“no, no holdin’ back your little noises, i wanna hear ‘em all.” he roared, his hand letting go of one of your legs as he held your chin firmly. “and eyes on me. if you close them or hold back your moans, i’ll stop and you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

you couldn't say a single word, you just nodded, agreeing with what he was saying, even though you didn't know how long you could keep your eyes open. “good girl.” he released your chin, his hand trailing down your neck and collarbone until he reached your bra.

just fucking you could be enough, but it wasn't, not for a greedy man like him. he wanted more and your tits looked so inviting to his eyes, he wanted everything he could get of you. everyone knew, if he wanted it, he could get it. so, he didn't ask, he just pulled one of your tits out of the bra. his fingers pinching your swollen nipple and circling it as he stared at you, wondering if this would make you go further over the edge or not.

him being too big for you was already something, but rafe knew perfectly where to push your buttons and he'd make you tremble without needing much, he wanted to break you so you'd know better before you thought you could leave him in a position like that. your legs locked around his waist, just so he could go balls deep, feeling you squeezing him tighter and tighter as your tight walls clenched in pleasure.

“mmgmh, rafe, fuck...” you whimpered, biting your bottom lip hard as you looked down to see his rhythm. thrusts so rough that the bed began to creak and he had no intention of being discreet about how good and hard he was fucking that sweet pussy of yours. “rafe... i need to... i need to come...”

a mocking laugh came out of him as he slowly thrust inside you again, really much slower than before, making you feel every inch of him stretching you out. “yeah, princess? you wanna come that fast? this pretty little cunt can’t handle such a big cock, can it?” he continued with the slow thrusts, like a tease that he was really enjoying doing.

“but, it’s okay... i said i’d take care of you.” rafe whispered, leaning over you again, his tongue flicking over your nipple that he had been pinching moments before. “then, come for me, princess, come while i suck your tit.”

his thrusts gradually increased again, making you see stars as he sucked on your nipple hungrily, his eyes flicking up to see your expression of pleasure. your loud moans and whimpers were music to his ears, like fuel that only motivated him to go deeper.

and when you got to the edge, by god, you squeezed him so hard and moaned like you were in heaven; and he enjoyed every second of it, pressing himself against you as he felt your legs tremble for him. “you did so well for me...” he licked your nipple once more before moving kisses up to your neck. “but, we still have one thing before we finish... and you’re gonna be a good girl and do it.”

“what? what’s left?” you mumbled, tired and breathless, your legs still shaking as he grabbed your body and made you sit on the bed. not understanding what he meant when you noticed him standing up, right next to you.

“come here ’n open your mouth, i’ll show you.” it wasn't a request, it almost sounded like an order, if you didn't do it he’d make you do it anyway. “open wide.” he said again as you sat on the edge of the bed, right in front of him. one of his hands gripped the back of your head, while the other gripped his still hardened length, positioning it in front of your lips.

your eyes widened a little, but you looked up to meet rafe's gaze and he looked very confident about what he was doing. “no hands, i just need your little mouth, pretty girl.” he definitely wasn't expecting you to nod, he just shoved his cock into your mouth and waited for you to do what he wanted. “mmh, yeah, just like that...” he smirked, satisfied with your work, moving his hips back and forth, not caring if you could handle everything he put inside that sweet mouth.

he, in turn, didn't need much either, you had already given enough of a show for him to feel his balls full, he just needed a little more, your lips around his cock would solve the problem. “that got you so far, didn’t it? this stalker thing, you’re exactly where you wanna be, aren’t you? with my cock hitting your throat, so pretty.” he moaned, using his dirty words to motivate you to swallow him all the way down.

his moans started to become more frequent, he stopped moving his hips, using your head as if you were a doll, back and forth quickly, choking you, he was slowly reaching his limit and the sight really helped with that.

rafe knew he wouldn't last longer than that, he was exhausted, panting, letting out long gasps every time he sank the tip of his cock into your throat. he needed to come. so, he did it. “stay there... that’s it... stop.” he gasped once more, thrusting himself deep into the wet heat of your mouth, his length twitching as he began to spurt hot streams into the back of your throat. “fuck... fuck... mhmm.”

he didn't move his head, not until he was one hundred percent satisfied, not until you had swallowed every little drop of him.

and when it was over, you were a complete mess, falling back on your bed, dealing with the intense aftermath of what rafe gave you. he joined you at your side, as breathless as you were, not regretting a single microsecond of what had happened between you. “next time you wanna do this, remember to tie me tightly to the headboard, princess,” he suggested, lying on his back to face the ceiling like you. “just call me and i’ll bring the rope.”

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.⠀⠀feel free to send me asks and suggestions in my inbox, you'll be welcome. ꒰ ˶> ˕ <˶ ꒱ ♡

©⠀𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐙𝐓, 2025.⠀don't use my work without my consent.

[2-shots2-thehead]

- I blinked and suddenly I had a valentine -

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Summary : Lego flowers on your desk ? ..You have plenty of kinda dorky coworkers, but..

Pairing : Spencer Agnew (Smosh) x GN!Cast!Reader (Use of Y/n)

Word Count : 638

Warnings/ Fic type : None !! Fluffy little short Oneshot

A/N : the pics I chose felt so him but ESPECIALLY the first one

“What the-“

You started oddly at the tiny vase on your desk, filled with flowers. Well..not real flowers. Lego flowers?

“Who’s it from?”

You could hear Courtney’s voice interrupt your contemplation. You shift your gaze from the small glass vase to her. You shrugged just once, not taking too long before turning to face the gift once again.

“..’Dunno. There’s no card.”

“No card?”

“Yup. No card. ..Maybe they put it on the wrong desk? It was probably meant for someone else.”

“Y/n, your desk is filed with pictures of you and your cats. I think they’d know.”

You sighed quietly to yourself, knowing she was right. It’s not that you were disappointed. Of course not. It was just frustrating to know you’d have to figure it out yourself. With zero clues, other than the fact that they can build cute things with legos.

“Yeah.. I guess you’re right.”

You reached forward to gently push it away from your computer screen, sitting down to get some work done in the meantime. It’s not like you’d focus anyway. You had some sort of..secret admirer. That’s a new one.

After a few hours, Spencer came by your desk to check on you, just like he had twice a day for the past two years. You didn’t have to look up at him to recognize his voice. You’d pinpointed at some point in time that it was one of your favorite things about him.

“Hey, Y/n.”

Even if you didn’t necessarily need to, you look up at him anyway. You didn’t need to, but you wanted to. Curly, messy dark hair, golden thin-rimmed glasses, and a bright smile.

“Hey, Spence. What’s up?”

“Not much. Y’like the flowers?”

…What?

“..Huh? What do y’mean?”

“Y’know, the flowers. Well, the fake flowers. Plastic flowers.”

You could’ve sworn your brain short-circuited at that exact moment. They were from him?? No. No, he’s gotta be talking about something else.

You hesitantly gesture to the lego flowers, already preparing for the sting of rejection. Well, not necessarily rejection, just disappointment.

“..Those?”

You watched his eyebrows crease with confusion. Oh, God. Yup. He was definitely talking about something else. Seriously, why would you ever-

“Yeah? What else would it be? ..Did someone else get you fake flowers?”

You couldn’t fight back the small blush quickly creeping up to your cheeks and ears. So..they were from him. There was no rejection. Just surprise, and..excitement.

“…They’re from you??”

“Yeah..? I’m really confused- Would someone else make you flowers?”

“No- No, I just-…wasn’t expecting it to be from you. ..Why?”

“..Why what?”

“Why’d you give them to me?”

He shrugged, a simple smile on his lips. He leaned down against the little wall divider beside your desk.

“Why wouldn’t I? You said you like flowers. And I can’t grow flowers. But I’m kinda a whiz with legos.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his wording. He always chose unique words like that because he knew they’d make you laugh.

“Yeah, but-.. Okay. You can’t grow flowers, so you built them. ..Why, though? What’s the point?”

He seemed to think a little harder before answering that one, folding his hands neatly in front of him.

“..I thought they’d make you happy. And-…y’know-…it’s almost Valentine’s Day. You didn’t-..have a-..date of some sort, as far as I’m aware, so-..I figured I’d ask you. With flowers. Y’know, like the gentleman I am.”

It didn’t take long for his nervous state to be replaced with the sarcastic jokes you knew and loved. You smiled softly at his words. It was..sweet. Considerate.

“Spencer Agnew, are you asking me to be your valentine?”

“Y/n L/n, maybe I am.”

Your soft smile shifted to just a bit of a smirk.

“Well..I think I’ll just have to say yes. I can’t turn down hand-built flowers.”

[phantomof-themcu]

Unyielding: Claws and Scales

______________________________________________________________

Summary: After a long night of dealing with the politics of your divine family, you return home only to find Loki waiting—furious, wounded, and unwilling to let her disappearance go unchallenged. What begins as a clash of wills turns into something far more intimate, as anger, love, and longing collide in the sanctuary of their penthouse. But beneath the sharp words and burning touches lies a deeper truth—one that neither of them dares to speak aloud, yet both are desperate to prove.

Pairing: mcu/avengers!Loki x black!fem!goddess!reader (It is alluded that you are something similar to, if not, MCU Bast. Or, just represented by panthers)

Word Count:1.5k

Author’s Note: Hey y’all. This is my first fanfic I’ve written since I was like…I don’t know, 10? Regardless, I just felt like I haven’t seen enough pairings of certain characters (from all fandoms) with a black reader. I’ve loved Loki my entire MCU trip and I used to wish someone would write a fanfic for me when I was younger so, I guess this is for anyone who’s wished the same thing. Here you go! Also, let me know if y’all want me to write the “spicy” scene. I’m not opposed to it. Please, like, comment, and share!

______________________________________________________________

The moment I slipped through the doors of our penthouse, I exhaled, willing the tension in my shoulders to dissipate. The council meeting had been insufferable. To reprimand both my little brother Khonshu and my little sister Ammit was an ordeal I would rather not repeat. The Ennead never changed—prideful, stubborn, and exhausting.

I eased off my sandals, flexing my toes against the cool floor, savoring the contrast after a night spent standing in the presence of too many self-important gods. My siblings. But before I could take another step, the lights flared on.

My body tensed instinctively. The hairs on my arms stood on end, and a startled yelp—a distinctly feline sound—escaped my lips before I could swallow it.

"So much for cat-like stealth."

Loki’s voice was cool, but there was something simmering beneath it, something sharp. He stood in the doorway of our bedroom, his hand still on the switch, his expression unreadable. His emerald eyes glowed in the artificial light, his face cast in a mask of restrained anger.

I sighed, brushing an errant curl from my face. "Handling business that did not concern you."

Loki did not move, but his presence filled the space between us. "Where were you?"

"Loki—"

"Where?" The question was no longer gentle.

I turned, walking toward the living room, letting my fingers trace over the sleek furniture as I put space between us. "The council meeting ran long. Our domains required mediation. I was needed."

His steps were soundless as he followed me. "What have I told you about leaving without a word?" His voice was lower now, like a storm gathering on the horizon.

I turned to face him, arms crossing over my chest. "And what have I told you about caging me?"

Loki's jaw tightened, his lips a thin line. "You speak as if I wish to control you. I only ask for the courtesy of knowing where you go."

"Courtesy? Or control?" My voice was a blade, slicing between us. My gentle accent wasn't so gentle in that moment.

His nostrils flared, his hands clenching at his sides. "Do not twist my words, my panthress. Do you know what it does to me, waking to find you gone with no trace? Do you know the madness that grips me when I imagine the worst? You may be a goddess, but even gods fall. And I—" He stopped himself, exhaling sharply.

A pause stretched between us, charged and fragile. I could feel the anger rolling off him in waves, barely contained, crashing against the unyielding shore of my calm.

I took a step closer. "You fear losing me."

His eyes darkened. "I know what it is to lose. I know what it is to be abandoned, to be discarded like something worthless. Do not make me feel that way again."

The confession settled between us, raw and aching.

I inhaled, reaching up to touch his face, my fingers grazing the sharp angles of his jaw. "I am not leaving you. I will always return to you."

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into my touch before pulling away, pacing. "I do not need reassurances. I need actions. I need you to understand that when you disappear without a word, it is not just an absence—it is a wound. And wounds, my dearest, fester."

His voice was not just anger; it was pain, old and deep. A wound that even time had not healed.

I studied him, the way his shoulders tensed, the way his fingers curled into fists as if he were holding himself together.

"Loki, you are not the only one who has lost," I murmured, stepping closer, pressing my palm against his chest. "You are not the only one who has been left behind. But I am not leaving you. Not now. Not ever."

His gaze locked onto mine, searching for the truth in my words. And whatever he found there made his anger shift, change. It did not disappear, but it softened, melted into something else entirely.

His hands found my waist, his grip firm but no longer rigid. "Swear it."

I arched a brow. "You doubt me?"

His lips quirked, the ghost of a smile. "I doubt everything. It is my nature."

I exhaled a laugh, my fingers tracing the sharp lines of his collarbone. "Then let me prove it to you."

The air between us thickened, charged. The battle of words was over, but another battle—a different kind—was about to begin.

Loki was not gentle. He was desperate, a storm restrained for too long, and now finally unleashed. The way his hands found my skin, his lips claimed mine—it was not merely passion. It was possession, a reminder of all the times I had slipped through his fingers before and a vow that he would not allow it again.

I matched him, unyielding. He may be a god of mischief, chaos if you will, but I was not willing to beam down. I was grace, control, fluidity. For every desperate grasp, I gave an effortless caress, for every demanding press of lips, I met him with measured defiance. We moved through the space like warriors in battle, a clash of dominance and surrender, a test of limits and breaking points.

He lifted me with ease, pressing me against the cool wall, the contrast of temperature sending a shiver down my spine. His lips moved along my throat, breath hot, words a whisper between fervent kisses. "You make me mad, my sweet panthress. Mad with need, with fear, with want."

I tangled my fingers in his dark hair, pulling just enough to make him groan. "And yet, you still love me."

A low chuckle, dark and full of something possessive. "Hopelessly."

I smiled against his lips before biting down lightly, making him hiss in surprise and pleasure. "Then prove it."

By the time we reached the bed, I was no longer sure where he ended and I began. The moonlight painted patterns on our skin, the ebony glow of a body perfectly fit with its ivory-toned constellation. The city beyond our windows oblivious to the storm that raged within our sanctuary.

Words faded into gasps, into whispered names, into silent promises etched into the very essence of our beings. And when the storm finally settled, when bodies lay entwined and breath slowed, there was no need for more reassurances.

We had spoken in the only language that mattered now.

And in the morning, when the world called for us once more, I knew we would answer it together.

[wistfulwatcher]

everything I’ve ever watched for carla gugino ROADIES (2016) as SHELLI ANDERSON

[leyiorr]

i can't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, FACE!

mdni.

satoru gojo is doomed.

why is he doomed, you ask? well, put bluntly, you, his girlfriend of five months, are driving him absolutely crazy.

crazy is an understatement, actually. insane, mad, mental, unhinged, deranged, bonkers - whatever you want to call it. he's holding on by a thread; the thinly woven string known as sanity growing ever weaker as the days roll by and turn into weeks.

of course, he's only blaming you. you hadn't actually done anything wrong.

you're the first relationship satoru's had in his life, and he'd be damned if some inappropriate thoughts ruin his chances with the love of his life. he'd never been happier - dating you gave him the kind of happiness he thought only existed in movies; the kind of giddiness of a child in a candy store.

he was devoted to you in every way, shape and form - you are everything he's dreamed of and more.

more.

that's right, you were more.

recently, you were the devil's temptation personified.

surprisingly, even after twenty-odd years of being one of the most attractive guys around, and having women throw themselves at him like he's some kind of greek deity, satoru is a virgin. i'll repeat that, he is a virgin. a fact that only suguru knows. a fact that he's neglected to tell his girlfriend.

he may have a flirtatious personality and the ability to charm ninety percent of the human race with one of his thousand-kilowatt smiles, but in truth, he had never dated anyone. ever. let alone got his dick in a pussy.

so when he starts wanting to go further, he's not sure how to bring it up without sounding like a horndog.

it all started when you wore a sleek black dress to one of your dates. it clung to your figure, fabric wrapping shamelessly around your every curve and tickling your midthigh at its end. and if that wasn't bad enough, it had a plunging neckline, giving the world - satoru specifically - an eyeful of the assets god gifted you with. your boobs were practically spilling out of your dress, the light catching your cleavage as you held his arm. he could feel himself salivating like some sort of perv. how was he supposed to focus with aphrodite's personal creation hanging off his arm?

his eyes began to drift to the flesh of your chest more than he'd like to admit. all sorts of r-rated scenarios ran through his head and he dared to entertain every. single. one. he could do so much with them, tease them, spit on them, pinch them, suck on them, put his dick between them-

“satoru?”

his gaze snaps back to your face at record speed. you notice how he's chewing his bottom lip, flush creeping onto his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. his hands are clammy; there's suddenly too little oxygen in his room.

“did you listen to anything i said?” your arms fold beneath your bosom and satoru almost implodes.

what do you expect him to do? the necklace around your neck has his initial on it, and it hovers over your tits almost mockingly. if it snapped, the letter would fall right between the valley of your breasts-

“satoru!”

he's choking on his saliva, apologizing profusely as he encourages you to continue your story - though he hasn't heard shit over the blood pumping loudly in his ears.

it's a battle no, a war between his rationality and his desires and he doesn't know which is winning. his rationality wins when he's around you - he just sucks in a breath and thugs it out, no matter how much his dick shouts at him. but in private, he's letting the desires win as his fists himself to the thought of you, your lips, your ass; your boobs.

the first time he sees you in a bikini he has to take a breather before he can get into a game of beach volleyball with you and the group.

(and even then he was struggling. every time you jumped for the ball the only thing he was looking at was your tits.)

he should be neutered. effective immediately.

it drags out for so long that you finally notice, and force him to talk to you about why he's avoiding you, and if you'd done anything wrong. but all you get is:

“baby, i'm so sorry- you're so pretty and i can't help myself. i didn't know how to bring up that i wanted to take our relationship to the next step, you mean the world to me and i'd hate to make you uncomfortable-” he trips and stumbles over his words-

“...is that it?”

and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares at you. weeks, months of agony over this and all you have to say is 'is that it'?

he doesn't even have chance to respond; to process your words before you're popping the top button of your blouse.

yeah, satoru gojo is doomed.

[rafesangelita]

Omg omg omg, pls pls pls do reader and rafe fucking raw and reader is riding rafe and he’s about to cum and tells her to get off him but she puts her hand over his mouth and keeps riding him😩 I NEED THAT

warnings: unprotected sex, the ‘L’ word, creampie

a/n: i couldn’t help but listen to ‘pink matter’ by frank ocean while i wrote this..

“oh, my god..” rafe was hypnotized, his fingers grabbing at your hips while you moved on top of him. words couldn’t describe the amount of pleasure you were giving him right now. he could barely think, his mouth hanging open as his eyes glazed over. you were as equally as a mess, your nails clawing at his skin while you cried out in pure bliss. you leaned down taking his lips in a searing kiss, the remnants of your lipgloss getting lost on his tongue.

“i love you.” he whispered against your skin, a smile gracing your features before he bucked into you, your eyebrows knitting together as he licked a stripe up the column of your throat. “mhm, fuck— i love you too.” you shuddered, the sound of your shared breaths filling the chilly air of your room. “i’m not gonna last long like this, baby..” he sounded worried as you ignored his words. feeling determined, you pulled him up so he could lean against your headboard, your arms wrapping around his neck as you picked up your pace.

“ah, shit,” rafe’s grip on your waist was bruising, “hold on, i think i’m gonna cum-” you held onto him tighter. “y/n! get off for a second- oh, fuck..” you clamped a hand over his mouth, his eyes widening as you clenched around him. “give it to me.” his eyes rolled to the back of his head as you whispered filthy obscenities in his ear. your words were driving him wild. he never knew how bad he needed to hear you say ‘fill me up, ray!’ until now. you basked in the feeling of him twitching inside of you, a guttural groan rumbling from his throat.

he was littering your chest with kisses, holding onto you as if you’d disappear into thin air. you took your hand off of his mouth, a sigh leaving his lips. “do you know what you just did?” he looked at you, concern written all over his face. you traced a finger down his jaw. “yes..” you trailed off. “and you’re okay with it?” he was rubbing circles into your skin. “yeah, i’ve wanted you to do that for a while now.” rafe nodded, already feeling himself wanting to fuck into you.

the idea of not pulling out turned him on more than he anticipated. “me too,” he admitted, “let’s do that again.”

[millyphobic]

˙ . ꒷ 🍪 . 𖦹˙— LIL LOVE BUG

✮ getting a little treat from your girlfriend the morning after

fem!reader x girlfriend!sevika ‪‪❤︎‬ morning after sex, reader is booty naked, surprisly fluffy but a little suggestive towards the end, not proofread (つ.と) | MDNI

“Wake up.”

No response. Sevika rolls her eyes as you simply keep snoring, wondering how the hell you’re still knocked out. She wasn’t that rough…right? Besides, you’re on your belly, one foot dangling off the edge of the mattress, and the blanket tangled around your waist. How the actual hell has your body not forced itself awake from the sheer amount of discomfort this sleeping position seems like? One wrong move and she doesn’t doubt you’d suffocate yourself in the pillows. Seriously, you have no self-preservation whatsoever. The lightbulb is on but no one is home.

At least she’s getting a nice view of your thighs and ass. Respectfully. Every bite mark, every hickey brings her a sense of giddiness. A little sense of possessive pride. That’s her girl lying in her bed and tangled up in her sheets and sporting love bites she made.

“Come on. Wake up, girly. I got you something.” Setting down her gift to you on your nightstand, she gently grasps your shoulder and flips you over, cold metallic fingers of her prosthetic ghosting over the span of your chest and throat until she’s very gently cupping your face. Thankfully you finally rouse from your sleep, an adorably miffed expression taking over you. Between your squinting eyes and wrinkled nose, you looked like a very upset bunny.

“Hand. It’s cold.”

“It’s metal. Of course it’s cold.”

“Oh my god, I know that! Let go!”

A lot of scoffs and eye rolls ensue but Sevika lets your face go, opting to plop down next your bare self. “Nice tits, by the way,” she muses. And because she’s such a good girlfriend she takes a fat squeeze of your tit with her real hand, hot and calloused palm and all.

And clearly you like that, snorting out a laugh as you stretch out your sore body. “Only for you, babes. Also-” you sit up with a groan, shifty hands snatching a little pastry bag on your nightstand. “You brought me goodies. Love you!”

She can’t help but smile, a real soft smile that she’d never give to another person, as you open up the bag. A little treat for being such a sweet girl and taking what she gives you every night.

“This is so cute! Aww, Vika. I love you so much, really!” You hold out a cookie in your palm, a huge grin on your face as you marvel at the treat. With red-and-pink frosting and fondant eyes, it looked like some sort of critter.

“The cookie’s called ‘Lil Love Bug’. Seems appropriate for my baby here.” You can tell she’s proud of herself here and it’s adorable, blowing her a quick kiss before taking a bite of your cupcake.

“Yum, it’s chocolate. And the frosting is good too. Want some?”

“Mhm. Get over here.” And you’re laughing again as she shamelessly leaned in for a kiss, licking at your frosting-covered lips. It’s not long until you’re laying down again and pulling Sevika with you, one hand curled around her neck while the other is carefully holding your treat from harm. “Either hurry up and eat that thing or put it down.”

“I have to enjoy this,” you counter, but do as she says by popping it in your mouth. Between chews you hum out, “well, you can always buy me another.”

“That I can,” she agrees. “You look real cute from here.” There’s a gentle lull in her voice as she swipes her thumb over your cheek, wiping away any stray crumbs.

Look at you. Making her all soft. Domestic. It should scare her how easily you’ve sanded down her rough edges, how you’ve easily soothed her into feather-light touches and honeyed whispers of devotion. But she doesn’t mind. As you lay bare before her and playfully skim your hands over your body in temptation, she doesn’t mind one bit being soft for you.

[gravegoer]

sevika, grayson and ambessa cuddling hcs 🥹🥹 i love them

Cuddling the butches -`✮´-

thank you for the ask, anon. heres some sevika , grayson , and ambessa because the last fic a while ago got a lot of love (rightfully so) <3 !!!

more of them , masterlist

Ambessa loves being the big spoon, pressed up behind you with one of her thick arms under your head, the other grabbing at your torso.

It's calming for you both when you trace over the scars on her arm under your head, leaving small kisses trailing after your fingers. She shows her appreciation by returning the favor and running her hands under your shirt to trail up your stomach.

If you grew ticklish at your touch, she would reluctantly stop, punctuating her actions with a kiss to the shell of your ear.

Sometimes, you would roll over to lay on her chest, her back now against the bed and her arm over your shoulders.

This way, she could see your face and admire your features with a smirk. Loving the way you look up at her with sleepy eyes and a smile gracing your lips.

Her chest was thick and comfortable to lay on, hearing her heavy heartbeat in your ear. This was one of your favorite sounds, and did its job at lulling you to sleep.

These were just your activities before you fell asleep, but once you do thats when the fun begins..

She was unusually hot when she slept (not just temperature wise). Sometimes, you'd have to throw the blankets off you both in the middle of the night just for some freedom.

And the fact that she is as close as possible to you doesn't help either. But on cold nights, you appreciated it, snuggling your face closer into her arms to feel the heat.

Her snores were deep and loud. That woman is always in a deep DEEP sleep. Sometimes, it woke you up, but you didn't mind. It just gave you more time to relish being in her arms.

Sevika is just a big softie, she wont admit it in words, but she loves being little spoon.

You definitely have to stretch your limbs a bit to wrap around her frame, but it's okay. it's for her. Usually, you can wrap your legs around her waist and hold her shoulders. She feels safe.

Sometimes she will turn around and put her face in your chest so that she doesnt have to face the world (just your tits).

She likes to inhale your scent and hear your heartbeat, and it makes it easier for you to stroke her hair and hum to her.

In that position she has her thick arm wrapped around your waist, holding you to the bed. (God knows she only needs one thats why she was nerfed)

She doesn't wear her mechanical arm to bed most of the time in fear of hurting you or crushing you with it.

But sometimes she will be lazy and just throw a pillow around her metal arm so that she can hold you still.

If you had a bad day, she insists you lay in her lap, face in her stomach while she smokes a cigarillo.

To add to that, have you seen her thighs? You fall asleep instantly due to comfort. And shes not complaining.

And if you are really sleepy, she will carry you around the house with one arm whilst doing her daily tasks. (Have you seen her wrangle isha with one arm?)

If she needs to step away for a second, she sits you on the counter, leaving you to huff at her absence before immediately picking you back up again.

Grayson is definitely the type of person to like the weight of someone's body on top of hers.

Just lay on her, legs on both sides of her hips and arms around her neck. She doesn't need a weighted blanket while you're sleeping over.

It's also easy to plant kisses on her neck and jaw, soothing her to sleep.

She also has a bunch of pillows, and you both wake up with them all over the floor (you might also be on the floor)

She is tossing in turning in her sleep every night. She was born this way, and if you do it too then you might be kick boxing eachother in your sleep.

Also, she will let you sit on her back while she lies on her stomach, pressing at her tense muscles and running your fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck.

When you are having a hard time falling asleep, she will soothe you with her husky/gravelly voice right in your ear. You can feel her hot breath on the side of your face while she whispers sweet nothings to you.

I know she's a dream to wake up to, her hair sprawled out all over the pillow and skin illuminated by the sun rise (NEED THAT).

When you wear her clothes to sleep, beware because you might not be sleeping for the next hour (that probably goes for everyone on this list..)

And her gun is always at her bedside. She is strapped and ready to protect you.

i know i said im on hiatus but shh...im posting drafts... i swear

[the-sunflower-room]

scared half to death

🌪️tyler owens x fem!reader 

☆ genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers

☆ wc: 2.7k

☆ summary: tyler owens is not easily angered, but when the love of his life runs into an incoming tornado without a second thought, his emotions get the better of him.

☆ warnings: a very upset tyler, yelling, language

note: so i watched twisters and it was actually everything to me! the brainrot is bad and i’ve been wanting to write for tyler ever since i saw it, so here it is! this is very much the idiots in love trope because it’s one of my favorites. enjoy! :)

“Where is she?”

Tyler isn’t sure if he’s ever felt this angry before. He considers himself a fairly easy going man, always quick to make light of a situation and put everyone in the room at ease with his charming, joking nature.

But this was different. This had his heart pounding, his ears ringing. His face is flushed red and he feels like he can hardly breathe.

All because of her.

He slams the door of his truck, approaching his crew in the gas station parking lot with a look on his face that’s so completely un-Tyler that it makes them all shift uneasily.

“Where’s…who?” Boone tries weakly, unsuccessful in his attempt to play dumb. Lily rolls her eyes and elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare.

Tyler clenches his jaw, for once not in the mood for his friends’ antics. “You know damn well who I’m talking about.”

They all exchange glances, his uncharacteristic demeanor both surprising and concerning. This isn’t the calm, charismatic frontman of the Tornado Wranglers they’re used to.

“She’s in the RV, but I don’t think-” Dani begins, but he’s already beelining for the camper before they can finish. He can hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears as he nearly bursts through the door, finding her sitting at the small table in the back with her head in her hands.

Her gaze snaps up at the sound of his entrance into the RV, and her face immediately drops when she sees him practically fuming. “Tyler-” she says urgently, instantly on her feet as he approaches as if she’s about to defend herself. But he isn’t having any of it.

“You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking out there?” He seethes, suddenly towering over her with his jaw clenched and hands on his hips. She swallows thickly, nervous around this version of him. Terrified to have upset him, disappointed him.

“Tyler, I promise, I was just trying to do the right thing-” she starts again, her tone practically pleading, but he just scoffs. 

“The right thing?” He questions in disbelief, cutting her off with a shake of his head. “You call nearly getting yourself killed in the field ‘doing the right thing’?”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the reminder of what she’d done, at the venom in his voice that’s ordinarily so gentle when directed at her. Memories of what had transpired nearly 20 minutes ago flood her mind and she feels a lump forming in her throat.

“I couldn’t let our data get lost,” she whispers weakly, her gaze glued to the floor in shame. “Bullshit,” he mutters, jaw clenched as his breath picks up. His eyes search her face, grasping to understand why the hell she had risked her life the way she had.

“You don’t run into the path of an incoming EF3 to recover some stupid equipment for our disruption research,” he practically spits, his voice growing louder, more emotional.

“That equipment is completely replaceable. You sure as hell aren’t. So I want to know why on god’s green earth you thought it was a good idea to run headfirst into danger like that.”

Her breath hitches, her eyes welling up with unshed tears at the reminder of her brashness. She feels ashamed and almost embarrassed as Tyler practically berates her.

They were best friends, a pair that the rest of the team liked to call the “dynamic duo.” With a shared passion for tornadoes and a taste for danger, they had instantly clicked from the moment they met during a chase a few years ago, becoming inseparable. Which is why Tyler’s harsh reminder of her stupidity stung so painfully.

She wasn’t used to hearing him so upset, so emotional in the worst way. With her, his tone was always soft, teasing, sometimes so overtly flirty that it would leave her heart pounding and her cheeks flushed.

But this was different. Now his gaze was harsh, curses unnaturally tumbling from his lips as she struggled to explain herself. And she hated every moment of his scrutinizing stare.

“You’ve worked so hard on putting together the equipment for the disruption research. I didn’t want you to have to start from scratch…not after all the effort you went through,” she explains pathetically, her voice cracking slightly as her emotions begin to shine through.

Tyler shakes his head, stepping even closer into her space. “And you thought it was worth risking your life for?” He grits out, his furrowed brow and downturned lips looking so unnatural on his normally smiling face.

Another shuddering breath escapes her as she catches herself from revealing the true reason she’d been so careless, from baring her soul and telling him that she’d run into the path of an incoming tornado because she loved him more than anything. That the thought of his disappointed face, his devastation over months of work lost to an unpredictably large tornado, hurt her so much that she would have done anything to save that equipment.

Anything to make him happy, to be the hero that he was to her.

“I- I didn’t get hurt, I knew I had time to get at least some of it-” she stammers, but she can’t get the words out.

“You didn’t have time!” He practically yells, gripping her shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. His eyes are wide, his gaze burning as he stares down at her.

“If Boone hadn’t been close by with his truck, you could’ve easily not made it. You could’ve died,” he chokes out, his grip on her tightening. His eyes are watering now, his anger fizzling out into something more desperate, more panicked.

Tyler still remembers the pure, unadulterated fear he’d felt as she slipped out of the safety of his truck before he could stop her, sprinting out into the open field where the winds and torrential rain were getting worse by the second.

He remembers the devastated scream of her name that had ripped itself from his chest, lost to the howling winds.

He sure as hell can’t forget the feeling of overwhelming fear and helplessness that overtook him when the rain became so intense that he could not longer see her, no longer assure himself that she hadn’t been sucked up into the raging funnel or hurt by the flying debris.

It was only when he got radio confirmation from Boone five minutes later, stating that she was safe in their truck with some of the equipment intact, that he even knew she was alive.

It had been the most hopeless, terrifying five minutes of his life.

“Don’t you understand what you mean to everyone? What you mean to me?” He rasps, his voice quieter now, more broken. “Some stupid equipment for an experiment isn’t worth your life, Y/N. Not in the least.”

His eyes are tender now as they rake over her face, scanning the scrapes and cuts littering her cheeks, the patch of dried blood clinging to her temple. His heart aches at the thought of her getting hurt, even if the injuries are small.

She notices that nearly all of his anger has left his body, replaced by the emotion that had truly been brewing beneath the surface: crippling fear at the possibility of losing her.

A silent tear runs down her face at his softer, more vulnerable words, her heart breaking as she realizes the effect her thoughtless actions have had on the man she loves. He’s quick to gently wipe it away with the pad of his thumb, his touch lingering on her cheek as he gazes at her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she chokes back a sob. In an instant, he’s enveloping her in his tight, comforting hold, cradling her head to his chest and pulling her so close to him that their bodies are practically molded together.

“Shhh…it’s alright, sweetheart,” he gently hushes, his hand stroking through her hair as she cries softly against him. He’s back to himself now, all anger and frustration long abandoned in favor of his naturally calm, caring demeanor. Through her tears, she feels herself flushing slightly at his term of endearment.

“I’m the sorry one. I shouldn’t have yelled at ya, you didn’t deserve it,” he murmurs into her ear, his arms tightening around her.

He internally berates himself for defaulting to anger when she had also probably been scared and upset. But thinking she had died in that tornado just for attempting to recover his equipment had struck something so deep within him that his brain had reacted irrationally.

He stews in his remorse for a moment longer before admitting a truth that might be a little too vulnerable, a little too revealing of his deep and unwavering love for her, but he has to get it off his chest.

“…You just scared me half to death, darlin’. I can’t lose you...I can’t. It would tear me apart worse than a damn tornado ever could.” His whispered words are so raw and tinged with devastation that her breath hitches against his chest.

Slowly, she peels herself away from his comforting embrace to get a good look at him, and what she finds makes her heart clench in her chest. 

His eyes are red and glassy, obvious signs that he’d been crying. His muscles are taught with anxiety, like every fiber in his body had been tense ever since she fled his truck. His hair is slightly tousled and she instantly knows he’d been running his hand through it the way he does when he’s stressed.

The thought that she could cause him this much worry, this much pain, sucks the breath from her lungs and makes her feel dizzy.

“I only tried to save the equipment because I knew how important the research was to you,” she whispers, her voice still shaky but full of sincerity.

“I know how much it means to you, finding a way to keep these tornadoes from causing so much damage to innocent lives. I just- I wanted to do something brave and selfless for you, the way you always have for me,” she admits softly, swallowing as she meets his gaze.

His lips part slightly at her admission, the reverence in her words staggering. Hearing that she cares for him, finds him brave and selfless, wants to return the way he makes her feel, fills his heart with a love so deep he feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Y/N, you’re-” he rasps, pausing to clear his throat when he hears how raw and weak his voice sounds.

“You’re so damn sweet. Your heart is so big. That’s what I love about you. But please, don’t be as stupid as me. I throw myself headfirst into danger so much because I don’t think first…my judgement gets clouded by the thought of helping someone and I get tunnel vision. Which has put me in one too many potentially life-ending scenarios,” he murmurs, his hands squeezing her slightly as they rest on her shoulders.

“I can’t- I won’t let you be that careless. You mean too much to me.”

Her eyes widen at the tenderness in his voice, the affection and worry dripping from every word. It feels like their conversation is breaching on something deeper, something much more vulnerable and terrifying.

Her mind is hung up on his soft that’s what I love about you. Even hearing the word love directed at her from the mouth of Tyler Owens makes her head spin and her face heat up, and she’s unsure if she’s even breathing anymore.

“Tyler…” she manages, her voice threatening to break with the overwhelming swirl of emotions running through her. She can’t help herself, knows that she’s finally going to put it out there, tell him how she feels no matter how scary it might be.

“I love-” his lips are on hers before she can even finish. The sensation of Tyler kissing her is unlike anything she’s ever felt, and she’s damn sure she never wants him to stop.

His large hand tenderly cups her cheek while the other snakes into her hair, tangling his fingers through the strands as he pulls her even closer. She gasps softly as his grip tightens, his lips moving against her own with an almost feral desperation.

The salt from her tears mixes with his sweet taste – something like honey and peppermint – and she melts further into him and his warmth. She can feel him pour every ounce of his turbulent, pent-up emotions into the kiss, and it leaves her completely breathless.

He’s waited for this moment for so long, and after thinking he’d lost her today, he’d be content to just kiss her like this for the rest of time. Reassuring himself that’s she’s still there, that she’s his. Showing her what she means to him.

Finally getting a grip on his emotions, Tyler pulls away for a moment, wanting to make sure he hasn’t misread the signs, misinterpreted what he’d felt brewing between them for so long.

But a wide, disbelieving grin spreads across her face as she fights to catch her breath, and he suddenly has no doubt that she’s been his all along.

“I’ve been waiting for that for- well, I don’t even know how long,” she laughs breathlessly, slightly woozy from his intoxicating taste.

He huffs a laugh in return, his eyes shining with an overwhelming adoration for the woman before him. “Yeah…I think Boone might owe Dexter and Lily some money,” he jokes softly, his thumb gently brushing her rain-soaked hair away from her face.

His eyes roam over her, taking in every inch of her muddy clothes, her scraped up hands, the shallow cut on her temple. Regret courses through him at the way he’d raised his voice at her, even if it had been out of fear of losing her.

“Are you sure you weren’t hurt?” He murmurs, his voice lower and more serious than before. She gently nods, her hand moving to rest on top of his own as it cups her face.

“I’m ok, promise. It’s just a little scrape from slipping in the mud,” she reassures him, sensing his lingering gaze on her slightly bloodied face. She can practically feel the apprehension in his stare, his constant worry for her well-being so endearing that she just wants to kiss him again and again.

“I promise, Ty. And I swear, I won’t do anything like that again. I just got lost in the moment and didn’t think before acting.” He nods slowly, letting the sincerity in her voice wash over her and comfort his racing mind. 

“You’d better not,” he teases softly, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “If we’re doing this thing, no more running headfirst into tornadoes, you hear? Can’t have my girl acting like an irrational daredevil like me. I’ve been told she’s smarter than that.”

She feels herself blushing as he calls her his girl, the title rolling off his tongue so naturally that it makes her heart skip a beat. Tyler watches as a hearty laugh escapes her and she leans into his touch, his own smile growing wider.

Suddenly nothing else has ever mattered beyond this moment of her in his arms, blushing and laughing like he’s the funniest damn man in the world.

“Ok, alright,” she giggles with feigned exasperation. “No more running into tornado paths, I swear. Wrangler’s honor. But you have to swear it too. You’re an adrenaline junkie and a trouble maker, even more than I am.”

He chuckles at her playful jab, his body feeling lighter than it has all day as he finally lets the tension within him fade. She’s safe, he tells himself over and over. She’s alive, she’s teasing him like she always does, and she’s got him smiling like a damn fool.

“Baby,” he mutters with that teasing glint in his eye, “you need to get my head checked if I ever run away from you and into a tornado. No man in his right mind would leave a gorgeous thing like you for some wind.”

Before she can reply to his ridiculous comment, he captures her lips once more with his own, relishing in the way she smiles against him as he pulls her closer.

This is all Tyler’s ever wanted - all he’s ever needed. Just her, safe and sound, loving him in all his flaws and worry for her.

If her running into that damn field led to this moment, this reality where she’s finally his, then so be it. He’s never been more grateful for a tornado.

[dilf-docs]

To The Devil I Know

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: your infamous girl's trip with your best friend sarah gets crashed by his overprotective dad.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, it's pussy spanking time again bc i do in fact like it a lot, praise/daddy kink sprinkled somewhere, reader calls him mr. miller A LOT, exhibition kink (v nasty), degradation kink (he calls her little slut), pantie sniffing, dirty talk (they have a sentence awaiting in horny jail), y/n grinds on joel's nose bc yeah i too want that, this is contradicting but lwk sub!joel bc that man's touch starved as HELL, may do a part two idk pls give it love, dad!bod joel bc i say so (yummy), no angst (wtf dilf-docs? the angst gods are so pissed off rn)

word count: 7,195 words

side note: this request got me HOOKED the moment i opened it and since i'm currently on a pedro hyperfixiation rn, we need to put the mental illness to good use. also, this is lwk based on the song by suki waterhouse devil i know! :) i'm seeing that i have two joel fics with devil in the title btw something something abt nickels and not being a lot but weird it happened twice also WE HIT 300 FOLLOWERS??? (and its 1am and i have to wake up at 4am is anyone surprised atp...)

part: prev | masterlist | next

"Sarah!" you shout, "get your ass out here you looser!"

It's probably eight in the morning, and here you are, honking and shouting in the middle of the quiet calm suburbs.

When you spot her curly head running towards you in a rush, you know she's pissed.

"Stop screaming!" she shouts back, "my neighbours will hate me"

You've known Sarah since you were kids. When you first moved to Texas, she was the only one who spoke to you in school. You grew up with her among white picket fences and scrapped knees, mantaining the friendship even as you moved away, until your return for college.

"Why would I even care? I don't live here!" you joke from the driver's seat, hopping off and giving her a hug. "I'm sorry but I can't help it. I'm just so excited for this trip, we've been planning it for ages!"

You keep talking excitedly about your plans, not noticing how her face falls.

"Yeah, about that..."

"You girls ready?" a third voice enters the picture, definitely not belonging to a girl.

"Uh, Sarah" you breath in, "Why the fuck is your dad here?"

In all his glory: Joel Miller, a guy you haven't seen in forever, too busy living in the dorms, girl dates with Sarah often out of her house. You wanted to explore the world: you weren't ten anymore, and the suburbs lost all of it's appeal they had when you were the age of Barbies and drawing on chalk.

"Listen, y/n. I tried, I really tried. But as soon as I opened my mouth, he started to pack his bags"

"Isn't your dad always busy at work?" you inquire, another one of the reasons Joel's face isn't a fresh memory in your head.

"That's part of the problem. He took all of the pending vacations he had at once" she sighs, sounding as dissapointed as you are. "I understand if you don't want to go"

"Are you being serious right now?" you chuckle dryly. "No, absolutely not. I saved for this trip, packed my favorite outfits and aced all my classes so my parents would allow me. Nothing is going to ruin this for me: not you, not your dad. So we'll go and we'll have all the fun we planned, yeah?" you express firmly, holding her hands. "We will have our girl summer, no matter what. Even if we have to ignore the elephant in the room..."

"Did you just call me fat?"

You turn around, and there he is: the uninvited. Joel Miller's aged face stands before you, strong arms flexing under the pressure of a couple of suitcases.

"No" you reply back, "just a nuissance"

He chuckles at your response, amused. "If you thought I'd let my babygirl go alone with you to the beach and get shit-faced drunk, you're not as smart as I remember, y/n"

Your name would always be on his tongue to call you out. Y/n, don't do that. Y/n apologize to the neighbours. Y/n, slow down. Y/n, don't be so stubborn. You were always a troublemaker, and his lips would only know how to pronounce your name if to berate you. But now, as his mouth says your name with a newly learned tone, dripping with dare and amusement, you can't help but feel a fire ignite that burns your skin.

"Dad!" Sarah calls out, taking you out of your thoughts. She flushes in embarrasment, and you scoff at the idea of giving too much of your time to think about Mr. Miller of all people. "I'm not ten anymore, we'll be just fine"

"You're barely of legal age!" he counters back. "What if somethin' was to happen to you, huh? I'd never forgive myself"

You get annoyed at his over-the-top reactions. What did he think you were gonna do? The wildest thing you had in mind was getting drunk while sitting in the sand. Not even in the water! You may be a wild spirit, but stupid you're not.

"Look, Mr. Miller" he cocks his head to the side, daringly so, almost as if waiting for you to try. "I don't know what you're thinking, but this isn't Driveway Dolls" he looks at you confused, so you try again, "Or Thelma and Louise, whatever suits your fucking old ass. Alright? This is a girls trip, heard that? Just two bestfriends enjoying their youth and summer without boys around to ruin it for them"

"Boys?" he laughs. "Too bad, then, 'cause sweetheart, I'm a man"

Your breath hitches, but you're not going to let him win; you always need to have the last word.

"Well, man up and let your daughter be free for once!"

Sarah covers her face with her palms, clearly knowing her dad more. This is a lost battle.

"Stop, y/n. Please. Dad's impossible to bend"

"He's ruining our trip!" you protest, feeling like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Take it or leave it" he leans against his truck, crossing his arms. Your eyes dart to the strained fabric of his sleeves, and when he chuckles, you don't know if he noticed or it's because of his imminent victory.

"Fine!" you throw your hands in the air, dramatically so. "Welcome on board, intruder"

Joel Miller smiles, and maybe it's the rare sight, not even common back in the day, that makes your heart skip a beat.

"And we're taking my truck"

"Are you being serious right now?!" Was this man going to take away all your freedom?

He laughs, mockingly. Rage bubbles in your chest, along something darker you aren't going to admit just yet.

"There is no way my daughter is going on a fucking hatchback to the beach"

You try to distract yourself talking to Sarah in the backseat, but her dad's prying glances time to time from the rear view mirror have you shifting uncomfortably on your seat.

He's persistent, always has been. Joel Miller, just as Sarah said, wasn't a man who could be bent. You'd remember thinking he was a sort of superhero: unbreakable. Whenever Sarah needed help, a pair of strong arms would be there, ready to take the weight off of her shoulders. He was now older, as you have noticed: grey and wrinkles sprayed all over his face. And now, the worst part of it all:

Age had made him infuriatingly attractive.

Unfair, you think, that a man so bitter that only seemed to worry and nag, was blessed with the rare quality of aging like wine. You can deny it anymore: whatever Joel Miller has now that he didn't before is working on you like a lovesick spell.

You look again to the front, just in time to catch one of his subtle (not really) stares. You keep the eye contact, only he tears away his gaze first, something akin to regret and fear circling on his warm brown orbs. The fire from before cracks inside of your belly, and the anticipation begins.

If he was going to ruin your trip, you might as well return the favor.

"M' gonna stop for gas" he says after some minutes of silence, deviating towards a gas station.

You take the opportunity to get out of the truck to strech your legs. Sarah does so too, but then whispers into your ear:

"Tell my dad I need to go to the bathroom. Don't want him worrying"

As if you'll talk to him. Despite that, you nod and she leaves you alone with her annoying dad.

"Reckless too, huh?" Joel appears by your side, almost making you drop your phone. "You know you're not s'pposed to use the damn phone on a gas station? Good thing I ain't let my daughter go alone with you"

You put your phone down. "Reckless? I know what I'm doing" but you sound nervous, for some reason.

"You haven't changed at all, have you?" Joel says, his voice surprisingly soft.

You heart gets stuck in your throat at the sudden shift, "I suppose not"

"I get that you hate me" he confesses, done filling the tank, "but I couldn't let the two of you go alone"

Your cheeks turn pink at the accusation, "I don't hate you"

He laughs, and the sound has something stirring in the lower of your belly. Why is Joel Miller of all people provoking feelings in you no other boy has ever provoked? You're used to playing with boys as you please, and you come to realize that's where the difference lies: you don't know how to handle a man.

A man so strong, your eyes don't leave him as his arms flex while pumping the gas, the delicious peek his simple white shirt gives you not going unnoticed; droplets of sweat on his temple, sliding down his jawline then getting lost down the crook of his neck. You lick your lips on instinct, horrified when you realize what you've just thought and done.

"Damn right you don't"

You could say you've reached some kind of truce, but then Sarah comes back, and when you look at Joel again, he's reverted to that annoying apathic state of his, but instead of bothering you, it only makes you want more.

"Hey" he says to Sarah, "where you went?"

"I had to pee, dad. Relax" she dismisses, shooting at you a can-you-believe-it look.

He walks away, ready to jump in the driver's seat again, when he turns around to whisper to Sarah:

"Don't ever leave me again" tone stern, "not with her"

But you hear.

You arrived late, the sun hiding behind the large body of water that seemed infinite.

"I can't believe we missed the first sunset!" you whine. "It was going to look so good on my Instagram stories..."

"This generation and their problems" Joel scoffs, taking the suitcases to the house you've rented for the next two days.

The answer is right at the tip of your tongue, but you decide to be the bigger person and remain quiet. If he wants to play, you better play smart.

"Dad, please" Sarah calls him out, and you have to hide a laugh. "Don't fight with y/n"

"I ain't doing shit" he sneers, crossing his bulking arms.

Sarah walks past him, muttering against his childishness. That angers Joel, who tries to remain cool.

"I know you hate me" you suddenly appear by his side. Your vainilla scent gets up on his nose, invading his body of you. "I just think you should try, for Sarah"

"I don't hate you" he answers, and now it's your turn to laugh.

"Yeah? Doesn't seem like it, Mr. Miller" it comes out before you can stop it, and there's something dark lurking behind his brown eyes piercing through you.

"I don't" sounding more sure this time. Serious too.

"You'll have to prove that"

You enjoy the surprise on his face and the light pink sprinkled across his cheeks.

"Prove that?"

You nod, finding all of this suddenly funny.

"Hmh, you heard me. Prove it, Mr. Miller. That you don't hate me"

But before he can respond, your bestfriend is back.

"Y/n, come on! You need to check the house. It has a shared balcony!" Sarah beams giddy.

You let her excitement infect you, taking her hand as you go inside the house. Joel stays back, your words ringing on his ears.

On the other hand, Sarah and you check the room together.

"Look this" she points at one of the mirrors in the room: it has details that remind you of the sea. "Isn't it cute?"

"It is" you agree, "we should take a picture"

"Okay. But use your phone" she says, "mine died on the road"

You're about to pull it out when you feel your pockets empty.

"It's... not here"

"You might have left it in the car" she tries to help.

"Yeah" you try to remain level-headed, "I'll go search for it"

You return to the truck, pressing your head against the window. Just like your friend guessed, it's there, abandoned on the seat.

"Lost somethin'?"

You gasp, turning around. Joel Miller's face is centimeters away from yours, breathing heavily as his body cages your smaller frame against the truck's doors.

"My phone" you find your voice after what feels like eternity, "it's inside the car"

"Need help with that?" his voice sounds low, whisper easily to be confused with a growl.

You don't know how to answer, scared for the first time of where your mouth could take you. So your solution is to nod, and step aside for him to open the car.

"There you go" he's dropping it in your hands, fingers lightly brushing yours. There's a shiver down your spine despite the cool weather, and you know damn well it's all his fault. He may feel it too, by the way he takes a step back, putting some distance.

"Need anything else?" but it feels like a slap to the face, as if he's challenging you to speak what you've been thinking but are too coward to do when he stands before you.

"No" you mentally slap yourself for how pathetic you sound, "this is all I needed, Mr. Miller. Thanks"

You look back one last time, despite it all. And there it is: that same look he gave you in the car.

"Anytime" but it falls deaf to your ears, as you basically ran away from him.

Him and his imposing presence, enough to make your legs tremble and your mind to stop working. Him and his smell, that brings you back to simpler times and reminds you of a a secret place in the woods, musk getting under your skin. Him and his breath, hitching when you touch hands. Him and his beating heart, just as loud as yours.

"Took you long" Sarah comments when you return, "I was already falling asleep"

She doesn't know or suspect, you tell yourself, but that doesn't stop you from feeling sick.

That night, as Sarah lays by your side and you try to sleep, all you can think about is his big hands, the lingering feeling of a warm touch. And then Joel, stepping back―coming to his senses, as if something is holding him back.

Anytime.

You can't help but wonder what stopped him.

Days have blurred between drinks by the poolside, waves crashing, wet sand in your fingers and sun carressing skin.

Despite what happened, Joel remains in the shadows, letting you and Sarah enjoy your trip in peace. You may be spending time with your bestfriend, but his presence hangs in the air, impregnated with his strong pine and whisky smell, looming over you like a shadow; suffocating, like his scent is all you can breath. You hate how your mind keeps going back to him, because despite your inicial claims to ruin him, that wasn't the purpose of this vacation, yet Joel seems to have infected you with a need that corners your mind to think of him and him only. The greed you feel is unnatural, like a spell has been cast upon you. He may be far, just as you wanted, and you should enjoy that, but it's that very same distance that is driving you insane.

Today, you and Sarah decided to go diving and then play volleyball.

The day ends, the sun sets, and so does the tiredness. But as Sarah's snores fill your ears, you toss around the bed, trying to conceal sleep to no avail.

Staring at the ceiling, you kept drifting back to Joel, mind wondering and heart racing at thoughts of strong arms caging you, warmth in your body that the breeze creeping through flowing curtains fails to provide.

The sound of wood creaking jolts you awake. His silhoutte is hard to miss, and your eyes follow it cross your bedroom. You pretend to be asleep, his scent up your nose as he walks in careful measured steps, trying not to wake you up. He looks back at Sarah, and the moonlight betrays him when it shines over his eyes, revealing an adoration that gnaws your chest.

He keeps walking, until he reaches the shared balcony. It's then that you make a choice, heart pounding in your chest as you race yourself from bed, going his way.

You go outside, finding him resting his arms on the balcony, facing the beach in silence. Soft waves crash against the wet sand, but not even that can overpower the sound of your beating heart.

"What're you doin' here?" he's asking, even if you haven't moved from your spot. Seems like your friend wasn't joking about his heightened senses, despite his old age. "Thought y'were 'sleep"

"Well, Sarah is a fast sleeper" you answer, walking to his side.

"She sure is" and the faintest of a smile appears on his face.

Joel Miller is a mystery to you: the most closed off man you've ever met, hiding behind his apparent apathy that only seems to be gone whenever Sarah is around. She's the apple of his eye, and those soft traces of a more tamed character that come to light have truly picked your interest, begging for more crumbs that will help you puzzle who he really is: he, that is as handsome as a mystery. The worst is, you don't know what attracts you more.

But you won't let him win.

"Mr. Miller?"

"Yeah?"

"Were you married?"

He looks at you, dark eyes partly iluminated by the moonlight.

"Aren't you a bit too young to be bold?"

"And aren't you too hot to be all alone?" you reply in an instant, rendering him speechless.

He chuckles, but it sounds defeated rather than amused.

"Trust me, kid" he's back at facing the ocean. Goddamn coward. "This isn't what you want"

"Don't call me kid" you berate, almost repulsed at it. "I'm twenty one"

He scoffs. "Still hella young"

"But I know what I want" a wavering hand ready to trace over his pecs, but he's stopped you before it descends. Before it's too late.

"You don't" he assures, grip on your hand stronger, without knowing how much you're enjoying this. Or maybe he does. "See? That's the problem with you kids: you think you do, but you don't"

You loose your patience.

"Tell me then, Mr. Miller. Would a kid do this?"

Taking the distraction, the same hand flies now to grop his dick, and to your surprise, it's already hard.

"Seems I'm not the only one who doesn't know what they want"

"Stop" he warns, hissing when your eager fingers unbuckle his belt. It's huge, for some reason, and you can't help but feel an ardent throb at the thought of grinding on it.

When your eyes look at Joel, he swears he sees you devilishly smirk, almost as if you were mocking him.

"Stop?" you bite your lip, feigning innocence as doe eyes look where dark ones had done before. "If that's what you want, you aren't even trying"

You kneel down, and the position gives you the perfect side of his adam's apple bobbing in a nervous gulp. He grows insecure under your intense stare, breath hitching when the wind hits his now free member as you pull down his underwear, revealing it hard and leaking with precum. You laugh delighted, with victory, and he finds himself trapped between the moon and your games, drowning on a sea feet away.

"I think I know what you want"

"How? You don't even know what you want" barely fighting it.

Your fingers grace over his soft abdomen, tracing down his belly and happy trail. Your teeth nip at the skin scattered with soft rosy lines, peppering the skin with fluttering kisses to entertain your mouth until your digits touch his hard cock. Joel whines, squirming, and you're delighted with the receptiveness, needy sounds escaping his lips.

You haven't even started yet.

"You're right, I don't" you agree. "All I know is you piss me off and that you ruined our trip, so I'm gonna take my anger out on you one way... or another"

You take your first lick, savouring the dark red head. His hips buck, a shaky gasp robbed from his chapped lips.

"Fuck" he exhales weakly, lost against the sound of water.

"Don't worry, Mr. Miller. I'll take good care of you" admiring his girth. He looks down on you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Joel can't lie and say he isn't fascinated with the way you look at him, not believing so much appetite can fit in such a small young body. Not even his partners before you, had looked at him like he was the best thing in the world, and now here you were: the loud-mouthed brat best friend of his daughter, sucking his cock while Sarah slept just a few meters away. Just yersteday he was bickering with you, not standing your spoiled attituted and juvenile spirit that can't be tamed and won't shut up. Hell, you had even disrespected him. But here he is, not being able to find the words or actions to stop you: because he doesn't want to.

It was all so fucked up.

But then you're closing your lips around his swollen head, and he knows there's no point in fighting it anymore, his whole body urging him to give in.

"Oh, fuck" he pants, getting all worked up as you take him deeper. "Keep goin'. You're doin' a great job, sweetheart"

The praise gets to you, even if not needed.

Your tongue swirls, running the muscle with wet slides, up and down, tip to base, some pressure applied. You proceed to take in his balls, feeling him tense up. You wanted to mock him badly, but your mouth was full of his dick, so that wasn’t happening.

"D-don't stop" he pleads, sounding more like a whine.

He's deep enough that it hits your throat. You've never been this greedy, but also, have never tried with a dick so big. You feel him in the roof of your mouth, your lips at the base of the tip, brushing against skin. Joel can't keep up: breath hitching, moans ragged and consumed, barely standing if it wasn't for your hands digging in his thighs for support.

You keep building pace, seeing Joel's face scrunch up.

"M' close" his voice comes out strained, his head tilting back, wild soft locks from before now plastered against his forehead, dripping with sweat. His muscles tense, you can feel it, and it's just about time before he's coming inside your mouth.

You want it. To taste more of him, who you claim to hate but feels oh so good. Strong, just as his presence.

"So good, fuck, you're so good" in a tone so needy and desperate. It falls out of his lips, followed by more unintelligible praises dripping from his tongue.

And then, in a shaky breath, lost to the wind:

"Y/n"

You gasp, and he feels it, the air ticklish on his sensitive skin.

Joel said your name.

Your name, in a way it had never been said before. Uttered like a prayer, submerged in devotion. Your name, melting into his moans, deep within him, the calling full of a primal desire. The experience is intoxicating, making you crave more.

Joel comes with a groan, head falling back. Your name dies on his lips as his hips thrust up with your lips closing in. Thick spurts of cum mix with saliva in the back of your throat. You pull out, a string of saliva still connecting you to his dick. He looks down on you, body shaking as much as yours. Without breaking eye contact, he wipes some of the mess drooling from your lips, his calloused thumbs carresing you with a softness you didn't think was possible. The contrast makes you falter a bit, and you know Joel notices.

"There you go" your voice comes out hoarse, avoiding his eyes, "now you know what you want"

He chuckles, giving you a hand to stand up. As you raise to your feet, his face is barely inches away from yours. You can see the lines time has marked across his face, the grays coloring hair you remember to be brown, and those eyes―piercing through you like they know you better than you know yourself.

"But do you?"

Joel Miller doesn't know what is regret.

He didn't feel it when Sarah arrived unexpectedly at the ripe age of twenty, forcing him out of college. He didn't feel it when Sarah's mother left him alone to raise his daughter all by himself, aware he had tried it all to make it work. He surely didn't feel it when you came back after leaving Texas, long gone the childlike wonder and features that made him see you as an extension of his daughter, his gaze lingering a bit too long on this familiar face in a beautiful blooming new body.

But this is different, and he isn't sure if, for the first time, he's finally known what is regret.

Joel Miller also doesn't know when to back out of a fight.

He remember his brother Tommy, practically begging to let go of some asshole that dared to pick up on him, knuckles bloody no matter if he was young then and old as stubborn now, the same red painted across his willfull hands.

But now those hands prickle and sweat, no matter how much he runs them over the fabric of his jeans. And now, as your dangerous stare pierces through him across the small table, Sarah oblivious to the game as she quietly munchs her cereal, Joel Miller backs down, his gaze the first to look away.

He realizes just now why he was so afraid to look up to the sky after you left. The same stars that stared back from the high of the dark night are akin to the ones dancing in your eyes.

"Mr. Miller" your voice breaks his train of thoughts.

"Where's Sarah?" he asks in a panicked voice, realizing you've been left alone.

"Brushing her teeth" you answer, slightly taken back by his tone. "We were going out today, remember?"

Ah, yes. A little tour to an island not to far away from there.

"M' not goin'. Sorry, kid" he's decided. Before you can speak, Sarah returns and asks the question herself.

"M' tired. That's all" but it sounds rather an excuse.

"Are you sure, dad?" Sarah presses, not sure why he had changed his mind at the last minute.

"Yeah" he insists, all while avoiding those eyes of yours, unsatisfied and searching for answers of questions qithout a voice. "You girls go and have fun"

So you do.

You go and feel like you're inside of Mamma Mia (your favorite movie; both of you learned ABBA's discography thanks to it, something that offended your parents), the sun reflecting in the water, the little island with its green and sun, and the flowers that dust their petals into the shore where your boat arrives.

But when the trip is over and soft waves rock your return, you think of Joel.

You think you should feel at least a little ashamed of becoming so obssesed with a man in barely two days, who, on top of it all, is your bestfriend's dad. But then you remember the taste of him inside your mouth, how his dick had rasped against your throat, his seed warm in the tip of your tongue. And then his eyes, promises meant to be broken locked away behind tides of fear, that do an excellent job of reminding you how easy is to drown; to fall for how in hazel flickers, Joel seems he'd give you the world.

"Let's get drunk" you deadpan once you're back at the shore.

Sarah laughs at your determination, then realizes you're serious.

"What?"

"Yeah, it's our last day here" you reason. "Besides, your dad isn't here. What's he going to say?"

If you sound between angry and dissapointed at his absence, Sarah remains quiet.

"We're running away" she tries one last time, but by the look in your eyes, you've made your choice.

"Are we? We're twenty-one, Sarah. We can do whatever the fuck we want" you feel rebellious all of a sudden, "what? Don't you wanna give this trip a grand finale?"

So you crash into the nearest bar and waste the night away, drinking and dancing. But you're ordering a drink you don't like, and in every glass of whiskey down your throat, his name hangs in the air like the memory of his smell, locked behind a vault as if it's too sacred to say. But when Sarah gets a boy to dance and lends his friend to you, you wish there was rough where soft meets your skin, and chapped when you kiss his lips. Your body burns ablaze with sweat, alcohol and regret, a dangerous combination that makes you pull Sarah out of the bar when you feel you're about to black out. She complains, but you're set on making it to the bed before your eyelids shut.

Maybe it's because you always had what you wanted, or maybe it was the forbidden, but whatever reason had pushed you in Joel's orbit, refused to let you go.

And maybe you're imagining his voice, scolding you like a kid. Maybe you're seven again, and in the shadows of the bed, you've gone back to your childhood days. Y/n, y/n, y/n. That sick berating tone of his, acting like you're stupid and small.

"Fucking brat" he spats, drops of his angry scowl landing on your cheek. You then realize he's hovering over you, and it's real, not a product of your foggy mind. So you stand up, sobering up a bit, when he charges back again. "Makin' my daughter pass out? What the fuck were you thinkin'? Could've ended in the middle of the street. You're s'pposed to go to the damn island and then come back!"

Your mouth tastes like sand, but even if you've passed out a couple hours ago, the fire doesn't die. So your tongue is back, finding it's voice to say:

"Well, if you hadn't left us alone, this wouldn't have happened"

He chuckles, darkly. Humorless. "I see"

"What?" you challenge, a shiver down your spine that looses itself somewhere else.

"You got my daughter drunk as revenge"

You're mortified at the accusation, the remnants of alcohol now long gone of your system.

"Do you think I'd risk me and my friends' safety for you? Out of all people, you?" not caring if you sound bitter.

The truth sticks to your skin as uncomfortably as the sweat.

"I dunno, sweetheart. That's why I'm asking you" the pet name rolls effortlessly, in a rough voice that creates a wet spot in your panties. He gets closer, and you can see the tremble of his lips as he lets out a shaky breath. "Be a good girl and answer"

"I won't tell you shit" you spit.

"You little minx, thinkin' you can run your tongue like it ain't been 'round my cock before" you look like a deer caught in headlights, and Joel's enjoying this more than he should. "That's right, what'd Sarah think knowing her friend's a little slut for'er daddy's cock?"

The electric current that crosses your body sparks the fire of the woods hiding behind his auburn storms.

Now you're feeling high on a forest fire. You want the flames to engulf you, even if ashes is all there'll be left.

"Tell me you want this" his forehead clashes against yours, and the whole world falls silent, except for your ringing ears.

"I want this" and he's just as surprised as you are by the unwavering conviction. "I need you, Mr. Miller"

You try to get up, but he pushes you with full force back into your bed. Then, the base creaks, and he's on top of you, his weight pressing you against the mattress.

"What are you-"

"You think I'd let you get away easily? Have things your way? Naive lil' girl" he tuts, "I'll punish you for that"

As on cue, drowned out snores are heard from your side.

"But, Sarah-" you try to protest, his body caging you under his mercy.

"That'll mean you're behavin', right?" he runs his thumb across your lips, gently pulling them down, as if the chase was thrilling as eating the prey. "I know you don't want to wake her up and see her slut of a friend bangin' her daddy"

You tense, remaining silent at the threat, even if your body reacts other ways.

"Good girl"

He’s quick to get rid you of your shorts.

"Fuckin' hell" he murmurs against your neck, the clothing discarded somewhere in the room. "Wearin' this little shitty bottoms to rail me up, knowin' damn well when to bent and get me hard. Been thinkin' of takin' them off ever since you wore 'em first"

The confession makes you whine, and Joel's delighted by the sound, and just how putty you are under his big rough hands.

"Let's see what we got here" his large hands caress your thighs as he settles between your legs. "Black lace, baby? Such a fuckin' tease. Wore 'em for me?"

You shake your head, but his calloused digits dig on the plush skin of your thighs, making you wince at the pain.

"Don't lie to me, sweetheart. You'd said you'll be a good girl, yeah?" you nod, soaking wet, painfully so.

"Yes, I'll be"

"Show me your manners, then" he presses light kisses on the insides of your thighs, close to where you need his graying beard to tickle, "and I'll show you mine"

"Just eat me, Joel" you demand breathlessly. "Fuck. Need you, Mr. Miller, so bad"

"And why should I reward you, impatient little slut? Eager to get daddy's filthy mouth between that pretty pussy" Joel bites the inside of your thigh, and it takes all of your strength to avoid becoming a moaning mess. "You've been bad, sweetheart. A brat"

You deny it, but his head dissappears between your legs, licking the wet spot on your panties. You squirm under the teasing of his tongue, legs shutting close on instinct. You drown a whimper in your palm as he yanks your panties away.

"Don't do anything I ain't tell you to" demanding, and if you weren't this horny and out of your mind, you'd probably be scared. "There'll be consequences"

You try to obey. But then his nose, that big nose you want covered in your slick as you grind off of it between your legs, sniffs your panties. He gives it one big sniff, and then two, fingers going white as he holds the piece of fabric with too much force, shoving it on his face.

"Ye'r too fuckin' sweet, I'll give you that" he mumbles in a drunken haze. "Need to taste that drippin' cunt of yours 'night"

The bed creaks again, or maybe it's the sound of his bones starting to give in to old age, but Joel is sucking your clit, tongue pushed inside of your puffy folds. You hide a moan against his lips, hands traveling to grip his hair.

"Joel" you breathe out. 

He parts your folds easily, and before you know it, a rugged finger circles your entrance. Your back arches, and then he leaves place for his mouth again, flicking your sensitive core with his tongue. A moan a little too loud escapes your lips, making his eyes darken when the bed next to you shifts, Sarah tossing in her sleep.

"You dumb fuckin' brat. What'd I say?" his hand slams against your pussy, a sting you've never felt before, both showered in pain and pleasure, spreading across your cunt. "Don't disobey me. Apologize, now"

He stops his minstrations, and you're so achingly close to your orgasm, that the answer falls easy and rushed from your lips.

"Sorry, Mr. Miller"

"Good girl" Joel praises as he pushes his finger in, next to his tongue on your clit.

But the orgasm is so deliciously close, and you can't wait for more. So now you're grinding in his face by reflex, rubbing against his big nose just like you'd imagined. You whine at the sensation, and Joel rests his tongue flat on your clit with surprise.

"Who gave you permission to do that?" but his voice sounds more amused than nagging. "That imagination of yours is somethin' else. Have you been thinkin' bout it all this time, hmh, greedy dirty slut?"

The orgasm looms closer, hitting when Joel pushes a second rough finger in, walls clenching against his digits. He pulls away, licking his fingers with his tongue.

"Such a perfect pussy you got there, sweetheart. As sweet as you when you ain't bein' a pain in the ass"

You laugh breathless, trying to recover.

"Wanna taste?"

So now he's kissing you for the first time, his lips rough against plush skin, nibbling with your lower lips between his teeth, his tongue still tasting like you roaming free inside your mouth, like he wants to mark every corner; imprint himself in you. You've never wanted anything, hell, anyone more. The kiss leaves you hanging, heart racing at the closeness of his face and the warmhearted feeling of his lips on yours, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together.

"There you go" he chuckles, enamoured at the sight of your puffy lips. "Now it's my turn"

He's quick to get rid of the jeans and belt (oh well, it'll be another day) until he's over you, just wearing his boxers.

You'd never seen Joel naked before, why would you? But there's a vague memory of hot summer days, trying to survive the heat in the town's pool, just as the rest. He was there, eye candy for the mothers and horny teens. You hadn't understand back then, when he was all muscle, but you do know, where the mighty strenght is still hidden there, somewhere between his sturdy arms and chest as soft as his belly, round as it pushes above the only piece of cloth that forbids you to see his dick. His chest is full of hair, and God, you feel so dirty wanting to bury your face in the sweat drenched patch.

"Stop lookin' at me like that" he teases, but there is a small voice of insecurity hiding its undertones beneath his smirk under your stare.

"You're so fucking hot, Joel" comes out before you can stop it, now mouth acting up on its own.

Fuck, he thinks, he's too far gone. There's no point of return.

Your eager fingers pull down the underwear, fingers grazing the softness of his length. You slowly grabs his dick as he comes closer, never seeing anything as big and provoking as it. That makes you tighten your grip on his dick, which stands proud and tall, leaking precum, and the muscles of his thighs strain against his skin. 

He positions himself between your legs again.

"Let's put this big bad boy to use, huh?"

He grunts at your words, large hands finding your thighs for support, as he caresses up and down the skin littered with marks and kisses.

Joel pushes in. Just his tip, yet your mouth falls open at how large he already feels, and you tighten your hold on his neck.

"Tell me if it hurts" all softness on his eyes, his forehead falling against yours, as if he hadn't been punishing you just minutes ago. Your heart races at the gesture, tender meeting the rough of his edges.

The real question isn't asked, but you're on the pill and you trust him. You just want to fill him inside of you, all of him.

"I will, Mr. Miller"

He slams all the way in. You let out a broken sound, quickly muffled by his palm as he stays buried deep inside of you, givimg you time to adjust to his size. It burns, but you enjoy the way the pain feels. He slowly pulls out, before pushing all the way in again. Your slick folds take him, and he grunts, supporting his aching body by the forehead against yours one more time.

"So tight, sweetheart. Ain't nobody ruinin' this pussy but me" his growl comes out possesive as Joel establishes a steady rhythm. You softly moan as he keeps moving, pounding into you, hitting a spot no one had before, making you see stars. It gets harder to stay quiet, but Joel caputres every little sound that comes out of you in a kiss, as if that way he could preserve them better and forever.

You wrap your legs tight around him, keeping him close as your walls clench around him, his thrusts harder yet slower as he keeps going, ramming into you.

"Look at you, coatin' my dick like a fuckin' meltin' ice cream" he gently pushes it again between your folds, rubbing his dick on your clit. "So fuckin' wet, for me"

His lips are slightly parted and his eyes looked all fogged up, lost in the fire, thrusts becoming sloppier as he too feels it coming.

"So fuckin' pretty" drips from his mouth, and there's the stars in your eyes and the light you insist he's always had, even if he'd prefere the darkness. "The prettiest girl in the world with the sweetest pussy, givin' it all to this ol' perverted fuck"

The words and his big dick inside of you makes your eyes flutter shut on instinct.

"Don't sleep on me, baby" he coos, a hand brushing damp hair from your face. You recognize the look: the same in the car, on the balcony and on the poarch of his house, after letting the years go by. Back then, you thought you had dreamed it, but now that the secret saccharine sweetness reveals herself as he slams into you, you know it was real.

This is real.

You meet his gaze again and try to hold it as he pounds you so gently yet so rough, trying to show him without words that whatever this wrong and sick feeling was, you felt the same.

"Such'a good girl, takin' me so well" Joel grunts, slamming to the hilt. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm gonna-"

His dick twitches inside of you, walls spasming around his cock as your pussy takes it all, milking him dry.

"Take it all, like the good girl you are"

Both of you pant, and it takes him a while to realize the sun is raising again until its rays hurt his eyesight.

He's about to tell you how this shouldn't be, how he, at such an old age shouldn't be pinning for his daughter's friend: so young, sweet and loud-mouthed. No matter if you felt the same, or if your body was marked in and out by him, No, because wanting isn't enough, and no tide could wash away his sins from the shore.

"Listen, y/n-" your name like he has never said it before: no scold, no malice nor lust. Just a softness he hadn't felt in years, asleep under thick layers of cold.

But your soft snores fill the silence between the beats of his heart.

tags: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrosgrogu thank you sm for reading! hope u enjoy it :)

[melminli]

Love To Dream

summary - there was this one girl that thanos really wanted, though, she didn't really want to have anything to do with him. unfortunately, that made him want her even more.

pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader

word count: 1.5k

contains: modern au, mention of drugs, enemies to lovers vibes ig, crack, yearning

a/n: i don't even know what this is tbh but I felt like we all deserved some laughs ;)

Life was good - life was really fucking good, Thanos thought to himself as he winked charmingly at a group of hot girls. They had been looking in his direction for a while now while giggling, clearly interested in him. He continued to watch them as he sipped his drink, the club music pumping through his veins like adrenaline. Thanos's eyes darkened as the girls continued to cast lustful glances in his direction - he knew he could easily get more than one of them into bed tonight and why wouldn't he? It hadn't been long since his last performance on stage, reminding everyone present once again of his legendary status in this club.

However, his attention was focused somewhere entirely else after the most breathtaking person ever decided to walk past him. The pick-up lines he had been thinking of for the group, vanished from his mind after this angel showed up in front of him since the other girls could barely compare. The whole thing looked like something out of a scene from a Kdrama because time seemed to pass in slow motion and your hair was swinging in the air like that of a princess - which would have been the perfect time for some product placement because it just looked so damn soft.

Thanos had his mouth wide open in shock and put a hand over his heart to check if it was still beating while his eyes never left your figure. You - who was leaning prettily against the bar right next to him as you ordered something from the bartender.

“Hey.” he finally recovered from the moment and casually moved towards you. “I'd introduce myself, but I assume you already know me.” he talked to you with his flirty face as soon as you looked up at him.

You smiled shyly. “Yeah, I watched your performance,” you answered him and seemed quite grateful that he was speaking to you right now. “You were pretty good.” you giggled slightly as you complimented him.

“Yeah, that's just how I am.” he sighed as he looked around the room as if it was a burden for him to have to live with all the recognition. His eyes met yours again and he tried to impress you by unpacking a few bars while emphasizing them with the movements of his hands. “Girl, I know you and I are meant to be because after I looked at your pretty face everything stopped being. If only you saw what I can see, you'll understand why I want you so desperately.” he rapped to you, stealing the last line from some One Direction song, but you didn't need to know that.

You shyly put your hands in front of your face to hide your smile. “Oh my god, that was so incredibly sexy, I'm so horny for you right now.” the words came out of your mouth and made Thanos screw up his face weirdly for a second.

Because first of all, those vulgar words didn't match your innocent demeanor in the slightest - and secondly, you said exactly what Thanos had imagined you would say - it was actually a bit creepy since you literally said it word for word. Thanos hardly thought that he could foresee the future all of a sudden or that you could maybe read minds, though he decided to ignore the whole thing as soon as you started touching his chest softly with your hands. He wanted you so bad.

“You don't even know what you're doing to me right now,” he whispered to you while you felt him so sensually and he was about to kiss you, hadn't you stopped his lips with your hand as you laughed into his face. “I think you should wake up now. Otherwise, the pink elephant will keep handing out balloons to people.” You told him, pointing behind him to where the bar was supposed to be.

“Hah?” he asked you confused and turned around while continuing to hold you in his arms, but all he saw were a few dogs breakdancing - and that was nothing out of the ordinary. He continued to look at the scene with a grin, even though some inner voice inside him was stressing out about kissing you immediately as if he was running out of time. He finally turned back to you and was about to continue when he suddenly heard a man speak. “You really should wake up man.” Nam-gyu's voice told him and Thanos only caught himself almost kissing him after he took a closer look. He just pushed him away from him in disgust and then -

Thanos woke up from his sleep, bathed in sweat, when he saw your face in his field of vision. “Finally, you're sleeping like a dead man. There's some guy at the door who wants to talk to you,” you told him as he sat up tiredly while slowly recovering from his strange dream.

That's right. You weren't just some hot girl he met at the club, you were his fucking roommate. Thanos discreetly pushed more blanket over his lap as he tried to shoo you away from his room with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah - I'll be right there, just - give me a moment,” he said without looking you in the face.

You just sighed slightly and complied with his request, though not without letting him know how unhappy you were. “I told you to stop giving our address to these dealers. I don't like it when they show up here,” you grumbled under your breath before dashing out and closing the door behind you.

After that, Thanos let out a very heavy sigh and stroked his face aggressively. “Now she's showing up in my dreams, too? Fucking great.” he grumbled to himself and got up from the bed to put on some decent clothes. His eyes met his own reflection as he pulled a shirt over his head. “Get a grip man, what's wrong with you?” he asked himself as he grimaced in annoyance. “You're Thanos the destroyer, not some kind of -”

“Stop taking so long and come here already!” your voice suddenly shouted, coming through his door slightly muffled.

He looked even more annoyed at that and made his way to the living room while shouting back at you. “I'm fucking on it, alright!” and it only took a few loud steps from him to your front door for him to yank it open to fix the damn problem. He looked at his friend, completely bothered by his presence. “What do you want?” he asked him and was kinda glad that it at least wasn't Nam-gyu because he just really didn't want to see his face at the moment and probably for a little while.

“Hello, to you, too.” the man in front of him greeted him, already used to his weird mood swings. “I just wanted to do you a favor by bringing you some of the pills you wanted because last time you almost beat me up when I didn't have them with me,” he explained, holding the bag, which Thanos grabbed instantly before inspecting it more closely. “Don't act like you didn't deserve it, I paid you the money in advance, man. Of course, I was angry,” he complained again and would probably have beaten him up for real right now if he had ruined his morning over something completely unnecessary. However, he would still have to make sure that something like this didn't happen again so that you didn't have another reason to kick him out of the apartment.

“You know, maybe this was meant to be. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been greeted by an absolute hottie today,” he said happily as he stood there, still interested. “Is she your cousin or something? Do you want to introduce me to her?” he asked and was quite confident in the way he acted, but Thanos just looked at him emotionlessly for a few seconds until he slammed the door in his face.

"Okay, he's gone now!" he exclaimed, bored, and made his way into the kitchen, where you were sitting with a cup of coffee or something while scrolling on your phone. "Don't open the door for that guy if he shows up again," he said, grabbing a cold Sprite from the fridge. You just looked at him with a displeased look. He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'll make sure that he and no one else shows up after today. But, I'm just saying that in case it still somehow happens."

Thanos then opened the can and drank from it while he continued to watch your face from the side. Eventually, he sat down next to you, although, to his dissatisfaction, that didn't seem to get your attention. "Hey, you want to go on a date?" He asked, and you weren't sure how many times he asked you that by now. You kept scrolling on Instagram. "You know my answer to that."

Thanos continued to grin hopefully. "Yes?" he asked and then watched you disappear out of the kitchen with your cup of coffee in your hand - probably to your room. "You should be glad that I'm even asking you! Other girls would die for..." he muffled towards the end before he stopped talking entirely once he realized that you weren't giving him a reaction.

Maybe, I should just go back to sleep, he thought to himself dejectedly, unable to believe that he had actually better chances with you in dreams with pink elephants and breakdancing dogs.

[navybrat817]

Ficlet Friday?

A slightly buzzed Bucky just being the cutest or in love or both. Definitely a fluff-ficlet. Your choice on which Bucky 😉

I tried to make it fluffy, nonnie, but it does have a touch of angst. Sorry!

Pretty Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: Over 700

Warnings: Tipsy Bucky, encouraging friends, slight angst

You were reading a book in the lounge when laughter rang out through the hall, a smile touching your lips. The guys decided to do a “boys' night out” and it sounded like they had a good time. Between being heroes and the trials and tribulations they all went through, they deserved it.

“Hey! Pretty girl!”

You didn't turn toward the sound of Bucky’s voice immediately as much as you wanted to. Glancing around, you were the only one in the lounge, so who was he talking to? It would mean everything for him to call you pretty, but you were just… you.

“Steeeeve. I don’t think she heard me,” Bucky loudly whispered.

“Then say it again with feeling,” Steve loudly whispered back.

“Got it.” Bucky sucked in breath which gave you enough time to cover your ears. “HEY! PRETTY GIRL!”

“Jesus Christ, I can hear you guys,” you confirmed, shutting your book. There went your quiet evening. “I guess stealth isn’t your strong suit tonight.”

You shrieked when Bucky suddenly sat beside you, casually throwing an arm over your shoulders. Okay, he was still stealthy, and he looked amazing in his jeans and henley. “There’s my pretty girl. I missed you,” he smiled.

“Um…” You looked around to find Steve, Thor, Sam, Joaquin, and Clint hovering by with expectant looks on their faces. You tried to come up with something witty, but all you said was, “What?”

Bucky chuckled, his cheeks a bit more pink than usual. “My pretty girl is adorable, isn’t she?” he said over his shoulder before looking at you with hearts in his eyes.

You leaned in to get a closer look at him, catching a small whiff of liquor mixed with his cologne. “You’re tipsy,” you said. How was that possible?

“No, I’m Bucky. And you’re pretty,” he smiled, the dreamy look still in his eyes. “Pretty eyes, pretty smile, pretty voice. Even your name’s pretty.”

As happy as you were to hear those things, even as your heart pounded, you looked to the guys for help because Bucky couldn’t be serious. “How?”

“My apologies,” Thor spoke even louder than usual. “I shared some of my Asgardian liquor with Barnes and Rogers and… Well-”

“Bucky hasn’t shut up about you,” Sam cut in, rolling his eyes. “‘My girl is the prettiest girl there is.’”

“‘Isn’t my girl brilliant? And so kind!’” Clint mocked.

“‘Her smile just lights up the room’,” Joaquin added.

“Guys, c’mon. It’s sweet,” Steve smiled before he said, “‘I’ll bet her kisses even taste pretty.’”

Heat filled your cheeks. Bucky didn’t deny a thing, so they were telling the truth, weren’t they? “But I’m not-”

The former Winter Soldier placed a hand on your cheek, drawing your attention back to him. “Don’t look at them, pretty girl. Look at me.”

You did, and it made you want to cry. Because you weren’t his girl. He was only saying these things because he was tipsy. “Okay. You had your fun, so why don’t you get some sleep?”

His smile fell away. “No,” he muttered, pulling you into his lap in the blink of an eye and putting his face in your neck. “I’m fine right here.”

His lips against your skin had you shivering, and it wasn’t possible to break from his hold. Being this close felt like a dream, but he was tipsy and you had to be the responsible one. “Um… a little help?” you asked.

“Of course.” Thor stepped forward. “Allow me.”

You smiled at the God of Thunder. “Thanks, I…” You stopped when he draped a blanket over you and Bucky. Where did that even come from? “That wasn’t what I-”

“And some water,” he smiled as Bucky nuzzled your neck with a happy moan. You tried not to let that moan turn you on. You had to be good. “Men, let us take our leave.”

“Behave, jerk,” Steve said as Thor shuffled everyone from the room.

“Shut up, punk,” Bucky snarled, nuzzling you again. The lights dimmed, too. It was almost romantic. “Not you, pretty girl. You can say whatever you want.”

You had to laugh. Laughter was better than worrying about what would happen in the morning. “So, I’m your pretty girl?”

“Yep,” he said with a smile. “All mine.”

“Okay, Sarge,” you smiled sadly. “I’m your pretty girl.”

Relaxing in his hold, you could pretend until he was sober that you were.

Love and thanks for participating in Ficlet Friday! ❤️ And this one may be fun to continue.