#these two are my all-time favourites of him <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[daculvile]

Tune In (Chapter 2)

⊹ Johnny Storm x GN!Maximoff!Reader

⊹summary: Johnny has a realisation, a realisation he wants to make official. However, the Scarlett Witch has other plans.

⊹tags: Johnny still loves his witch, fluff, engagement, Johnny wants to marry the reader, Franklin and his favourite babysitter the reader, Franklin knows the colour red, angry mom looking for her child. Please excuse any typos!

⊹ Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Johnny Storm loved a lot of things in life, but nothing really quite like space. The others teased him a lot due to the running theme of him not only loving space but loving anyone who was spit out by the force that is the space time continuum.

First was Shalla-Bal, the silver surfer. She sacrificed herself for her planet, for her family, and ultimately for Earth.

Second, was you. (Y/N) Maximoff. This force of nature born out of love, out of desperation of a widow to never be alone again. His witch, his cosmic force in the universe that kept him a little extra stable when nothing else would. He admired you so, so much. Sometimes he wondered how someone so perfect, so meant for him came from a dimension that wasn’t his own. You were literally made of magic, real magic.

Admittedly, it was a little funny to see his brother in law grapple with the fact that magic was real.

Johnny loves space, Johnny loves women. He sprinkled that line out in every other interview like it was a gospel truth, playfully yet carefully dodging every question about his love life that he could. It wasn’t to keep selling the image that he was single, no he could care less about that anymore, it was for privacy.

After they got powers, the F4 members didn't have many things that were there own. Johnny had space, his little engineer shop in Brooklyn that only a few knew of, his music, and the love of his life, you. So, he was careful to keep his relationship with you well loved and nourished, but private.

When you crash landed, quite literally, into his dimension, Sue and Ben would tease him often about getting crushes on space people. Johnny would visit you in the hospital, even though he didn’t know you, something about you felt different. It felt otherwordly, you didn’t look like you were from here, as at the time they didn't know you were from another dimension. Johnny hoped you would wake up.

And you did.

A whole month and some days later, Reed got the call that you were awake. When they got there, you were standing up and looking out of your hospital room window. Awake. They elected Sue to talk to you first, the rest of them trailing behind.

Johnny looked at you with with wide eyes, with curiosity and almost an admiration. You were one of the most gorgeous people he had ever seen. You were quiet, wide eyed, and seemed extremely confused. You had that same air about you, this quiet sharpness that he felt like was piercing through him.

One thing was sure, Johnny Storm had a crush.

"Hello," Sue approached carefully, "We're really happy to see you're awake." She smiled, you nodded and quickly glanced between the four of them. "I'm Sue, this is my husband Reed." You noted how Reed stood a little straighter, she moved on to the other two next to her.

"This is Ben," Ah, the rock man. You remembered him faintly from before you passed out. How long were you even out for? To you, your bones and muscles felt stiff. "And this is my bother, Johnny." The blonde man.

You paused for a moment, considering the consequences of giving them your name. You knew this wasn't home, it was too futuristic looking, yet it gave you a twinge of nostalgia for the home you remembered. It didn't feel like your home either, energetically it was so different. These people seemed nice enough. "(Y/N)…Maximoff."

It was after that day when you and Johnny began gravitating to one another. You were close to all of them, but it was different with Johnny. You found him charming and sweet, you hung out a lot together as friends until he asked you out a year into your stay. He was confident on camera and when he was saving people, but it was like when it came to you, he stuttered. You had a job by then at a small bakery, your own room in the Baxter Building, you were steady.

And Johnny loved how your eyes sparkled when you looked at the stars above on your weekly fly outs together

-

Time spent in Earth-828: 3 years, 63 days, 3 hours

"Reed!"

Internally, Reed groaned a little as Johnny entered the lab. Because A, it meant that he was about to get nothing done or B, he was really about to get nothing done.

"Yes, Johnny."

Reed placed down the vials he had in his hands into their holders, jotting down a quick note before looking over his shoulder at his brother in law. Johnny was un-charistically quiet, shifting his feet, "Can I talk to you real quick?"

The scientist nodded, fully turning around, "Yes," Johnny was still quiet, as if he was contemplating. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah! Everything's great I just," He trailed off slightly, shoving his hands in his pockets, "I want to marry (Y/N))."

-

Time spent in Earth-828: 3 years, 63 days, 4 hours

"Y'know, Johnny I'm going to be honest. This isn't something I ever though I would hear you say until three years ago." Ben noted, placing his hat and coat on the rack.

Johnny rolled his eyes, "I wasn't that much of a lady's man!"

Ben gave him a look, "Right, one of us here," He gestured between the three men,"Was voted America's Most Eligible Bachelor seven years in a row and it wasn't Reed or I." He thought for a moment, stopping mid step to the kitchen, "Hang on, did you ask Reed first for proposal advice?"

"Yes! He was the only one home!" Johnny groaned, plopping down on the couch.

"I give excellent proposal advice."

"Who's giving excellent proposal advice?" Sue had come home, the three men being too busy talking to notice her entering, H.E.R.B.I.E beeping excitedly behind her.

Johnny sat up, leaning over the couch with his arms crossed against the back, "I wanna propose to (Y/N) and I have no idea how to do it."

Sue beamed, now standing next to her husband, giving him a hello kiss, "Well, I suppose it's good that today is (Y/N)'s day to pick up Franklin, huh?"

-

"Now, you can't have the chocolate muffin until after dinner, okay?" Franklin nodded, holding tightly onto your hand as the two of you crossed the street.

Franklin was now almost four and in the stage of life where he repeated everything. Every colour he saw, every animal, every number, it was pretty cute.

"Red!" Franklin yelled, pointing his tiny hand infant of him. You laughed, expecting to look up and see a stop sign or a stop light, anything but what you saw.

You looked up when you and Franklin stepped across the crosswalk, staring up at the sky. Only a few blocks away was a woman, clad in a red leather suit. She was descending from a star shaped portal from the sky. Your breath hitched, you would know her from anywhere.

Wanda.

Mom.

"Franklin, sweetheart," You held his hand tighter, breath catching in your throat, you could feel your heartbeat beating in your head, something wasn't right. This version of your mother was not the version you knew, all you could feel in her was rage. “We need to go."

You took in a final look of your mom before snatching Franklin up gently, you needed to get back to Baxter Building. People were already stopping their cars and gathering on the streets to stare up at the sky. To many, it may have felt oddly reminiscent of when Galactus came. You watched as the cameras quickly turned on your mom, in a nearby window of a TV store you were able to see her face.

She looked exhausted and angry. You took in her appearance, the details of the red suit, eyes catching at her hands which looked like talons dipped in pitch black. The circles under her eyes were dark as her eyes snapped to the varying things that caught her attention. Then there was her hair, what was once a deep brown was now a strawberry blonde. This was not your mom.

You summoned a spell to teleport you and Franklin near the Baxter Building, not even noticing as Wanda's eyes snapped to you. Realistically, it wasn’t something she should have noticed. It was a small spell, barely even causing the slightest bit of magic. It was as if she could sense your magic. In an instant, the woman on the TV was the woman in-front of you.

She gripped your wrist, pulling it up to break the spell. Your eyes widened, instinctively moving away to protect Franklin. Wanda only gripped your wrist harder, eyes wide in disbelief, "(Y/N)? Oh my god, (Y/N).”

-

"We are here live at the scene where a woman in red has descended from a star shaped portal in the sky-" Johnny's head snapped towards the TV, the other three doing the same. He sprinted towards the screen, watching as the mystery woman surveyed the landscape.

Sue and Reed exchanged worried glances.

"What the- where did she go?" The anchor exclaimed, the camera cutting to another closer on the ground, running to the location where they received a report from their ground crew where this mystery woman was.

And there you were with Franklin.

"Shit." Ben muttered, moving with Sue to the door to get to the cars. Reed met Johnny at the balcony, where the Human Torch was already in flames, setting off to where the news anchor said you and Franklin were.

Nobody was harming you or his nephew, Johnny didn't care if this woman killed him while he was trying to protect both of you.

They worked faster than their bracelets, he felt his beep mid flight. Johnny didn’t even pay it mind, he was flying faster than he ever had in his life.

[yumiblaze]

Hhhiiii

Can I get a Baby Saja x reader that's sorta a spin off of your Cursed series only reader is a foreign tourist and doesn't speak a word of Korean so when he tries to flirt with her she just kinda looks at him like who the heck is this and what does he want please

Heyy!

So sorry it took me ages to finally write this! I promise I am going to do all the one shot requests that have been sent in! I just take a while to write things out how I like them!

I hope you like your one shot! ~ <3

~~~~~~

You were so excited as you stepped out of the hotel, it was your first day of your holiday here in South Korea. You had been wanting to take a vacation here for the longest time but it took you a while to sort out a long enough holiday from work and get enough money to make the trip worth it. You originally wanted to come with some of your closest friends but after you were the only one to manage to get a ticket to the biggest Huntr/x concert of the year you just said fuck it and went alone.

The city around you was huge and you had no idea where you wanted to go first, after all the concert was tomorrow evening so you had ages to go and do whatever you wanted. You eagerly made you way down the path a small convenience store catching your eye. You realised that the day would be way less fun unless you collected some food and drink for your journey so you slipped into the small looking shop.

You wandered toward the drinks, quickly realising that you couldn’t read any of the packaging since it was all in Korean and you had no clue how to read any of it. You carefully looked over the cans and bottles looking for any pictures of fruits you liked so you could pick something you would be most likely to enjoy. You saw a can with a picture of your favourite fruit flavour on it so your hand reached out to grab it, before your hand got there though someone else grabbed two of the cans.

You turned your head to see who had grabbed the cans and saw a mint haired boy standing next to you, his bored blue eyes looking over at you. The boy was wearing a purple hoodie and had his hood up pulled fairly low so it was harder to see his face. He had a lollypop in his mouth, he used his spare hand to pull it from his mouth as he turned and looked at you.

“안녕하세요, 아름다운 분 (Hey there gorgeous)” The boy said to you with a smirk, handing you one of the two cans he had grabbed.

You stared at him for a moment watching his face change from confident into complete confusion and maybe slight embarrassment. You gently took the can from his hand unsure of how to respond as you had no idea what to say back. You took a couple of steps away from the boy awkwardly smiling before making your way to the snack isle leaving the mint haired boy in stunned silence.

You scanned your eyes over the various packets of food before you, still feeling the embarrassment from your encounter with the boy. He was probably one of the most attractive people you had ever had the pleasure of meeting and you had no idea what an earth he was saying to you. The moment the boy appeared next to you also taking a look at the snacks alongside you, you got nervous; you really didn’t want him to try and speak to you again.

“당신이 달콤한 것을 찾고 있다면 여기 당신보다 더 달콤한 것은 없습니다~. (If you’re looking for something sweet you'll find nothing in here sweeter than you~)” The boy told you with a little wink.

You stood and stared at the man again no idea what an earth he was trying to say to you. The boys smug face fell again, his face contorting with hurt as he saw how confused you were.

“Uh I’m so sorry but I don’t speak Korean.” You said to the man quietly with an apologetic smile.

The boy’s face changed into a slightly surprised face before he spoke to you again.

“You speak English?” He asked the words thick with his Korean accent.

“Yes.” You replied relieved he could speak a little bit of English. “You do too?”

“Little bit.” The boy replied with a small smile, relief clear in his body language. “My names Baby, I’m Idol.” He explained showing you a poster on his phone of him and four other colourful haired boys underneath the name ‘Saja Boys’.

Your eyes lit up as you realised he was part of the boy group your friend had been going on a bout for the past few weeks. She had begged you to listen to their song soda pop but you just listened to the song and didn’t really watch the video so you didn’t recognise the boy.

“You sing soda pop right?” You asked eagerly.

The boy smirked at you when he heard you mention his song and he gave you a little smug nod.

“You been Korea before?” Baby asked you with his slightly broken English, you shook your head no in reply. “I give you tour.”

With that the boy grabbed a couple bags of different sweets before leading you to the till. You were opening your bag to find your own money when Baby took your drink from you and paid for everything himself. You tried to object but he just kept trying to shush you every time you said anything about him paying for everything.

You were still whining at him about him paying for your stuff when you left the small little corner shop, not sure if he was ignoring your scolding on purpose or if he didn’t actually understand what you were saying. The mint haired boy came to a sudden stop looking at you in annoyance as you continued scolding him about being too nice to you. Baby just sighed and as you opened your mouth mid-sentence he suddenly shoved the lollypop he had been sucking on into your mouth.

Your body froze as you processed the candy that had been shoved into your mouth and where it had previously been. Your face flushed and you finally stopped talking unable to figure out what to even say to the idol now.

“Better.~” Baby told you his usual smug smirk returning. “화가 난 척하지 않을 때 더 잘 보인다 (You look better when you're not pretending to be mad.)”

[westviewsoldest]

12:44 AM (Part 3)

Masterlist || Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader (no-outbreak au / !dbf)

Summary:

Two weeks after the events in his truck, you think Joel Miller really has decided it'll never happen again, so imagine your surprise when he's calling you in the middle of the night for some comfort. Phone Sex ensures.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni) masturbation (f! & m!), phone sex, derogatory name calling (variations of slut & whore), age gap (42& 22), dad's best friend trope (only known reader as an adult), dirty talk, talks of a power dynamic - fear & shame being seen as arousing, talks about tying reader up and filling her up, brief talk about dacryphilia.

Word count: 6k

a/n: Here's the next part as requested by anon looking for some phone sex with Joel, ngl I really struggled at first when I was writing the dialogue but my GOODNESS was I speeding through it by the end. I hope some improvement is starting to show.

And as always, hope you enjoy!

Joel Miller is about to do something incredibly stupid. 

Though it can be argued that everything he’s done these past three weeks has been incredibly stupid. He certainly thinks so.

The first decision he made impulsively, helping his best friend’s daughter get off when he accidentally interrupted her. The second decision he made mistakenly, taking said best friend’s daughter to his truck to get himself off. But in his defense, you had pushed him. Encouraged him. Told him you wanted him in so many… colourful ways just because he was ignorant and dismissive that first time.

But this time? This time he’d file it as: helplessly.

Because there was no other word for it. Joel Miller–forty-something-years-old, tired to his bones, overworked, and hell, over-lived–was somehow helpless to resist the thought of you. 

And it didn’t make a damn lick of sense to him. 

You weren’t the first woman to look at him like you wanted him. You weren’t even the last woman to want him at that barbecue two weeks ago when, after you both pulled yourselves together, cleaned up and came up with the excuse of: ‘Your daughter’s fine, she just had a dizzy spell, probably just the heat. Made her sit in the house for a bit and drink water. We’ll be over with the wine in a bit. Uh huh… Yeah…. Uh huh…” etc. etc.  

If ‘dizzy spell’ was ‘soaking wet’. And ‘heat’ was ‘choking on his dick.’ 

There were so many other women, all his own age: widows, divorcées, single parents like him women who knew what they wanted and weren’t taboo enough to have him sweating through his shirts and analysing every single movement his best friend made to check he didn’t know all the shit Joel had been up to lately. 

But it wasn’t any of those women that had his cock twitching and his body burning up every damn night. 

The fact he barely even knew you had him simultaneously laughing and cringing. You’d both hardly talked besides scraps of conversation thrown in here like a sad excuse of a breadcrumb trail. Like your major,he knows that, knows how you found each year of college, what that one difficult roommate was like. He knows that you prefer not to drink, even when the alcohol is in abundance, and knows you prefer coffee over desserts at restaurants… knows the way your breath stutters when he says something dirty, or how you don’t even bother to bite your lip to keep your moans silent. He knows the rotation and angle you prefer when you’re using your fingers, knows your tongue is talented and you love to challenge him. 

But that’s different. That’s not…

He doesn’t know your favourite colour. Doesn’t know what you want out of your life, if you want kids, or want to move far away from this town and never look back. He doesn’t know what you do in your spare time or what makes you cry, and definitely doesn’t know what makes you laugh. 

And yet somehow he knew enough to want you. And that was… perplexing to say the least. 

His body reacted to you in ways that had him feeling like a teenager after losing his virginity again. He could be in the middle of work, stripped to his vest and sweat dripping down his back in the summer heat, and it only reminded him of the heat he was encompassed in that first time. Or on the drive home, thinking of you spread out on the floor of his truck, begging for his cock like you wanted it more than he did. If that was even possible.

Nights were worse. When the silence of his house ate away at his happiness, Sarah in another state, staying at her mother’s, Tommy focusing on his own family, and Joel. Joel all alone. When his body was tight with frustration and having his hand seemed so much less effective when you weren’t there watching with eager eyes. 

Today had been a bigger shitshow than his entire life combined, and that was saying something. The newer crew he was leading on their latest project showed up late, dragging their asses and fumbling around like they’d never held a tool in their hands before. By 10:30 AM, he’d already found three mismeasured cuts, two crooked panels and one guy hammering nails in at an angle that made Joel want to rip them out and nail them into him. 

That one, a younger guy only on his second job, had flushed red, mumbled something about being sorry, that he was trying. But sympathy only went so far when you had clients breathing down your neck and blaming you for everything. And it burned. Burned until he ripped things out and did them himself, until his throat was dry with barked orders and repeated frustrations. 

It wasn’t until midnight that he finally got home, shoulders aching, head pounding and hands raw. And underneath all of that was the bone-deep weariness that was life. The kind that built up until it overshadowed all the moments that made everything seem so worth it. 

He should’ve gone to bed. Should’ve dragged his sorry ass into the shower, eaten one of those microwave meals that he only stocked when Sarah was away, and collapsed into his sad, empty bed and forced himself to sleep. That’s what a smart man would’ve done.

But Joel wasn’t feeling smart. 

Not when he unlocked his phone, scrolled back to the text message Mark had sent him three weeks ago, during the heatwave. The one that followed his innocent request to check on his girl, the one filled with thanks and an obscene amount of emojis for a man his age and at the bottom: your number. ‘Just in case,’ Mark had said. 

Just in case it is. 

His thumb hovers over your phone number, still unsaved. He told himself to delete the message and avoid temptation, but he spent two days selecting it and unselecting it until he ended up just leaving it altogether. Then he promised himself he wouldn’t save the number, despite the fact he’d already started to memorise the digits with how often he looked at it. At this rate, he was willing to pat himself on the back for not looking you up online. The bar was below the earth’s fucking inner core. 

And so here he is, back against his headboard, clad only in his boxers, and still considering it.

He glances at the time on his phone. 12:44AM. He’s spent over half an hour playing this cowardly game. He huffs, and then goes to slam the damn device down on his bedside table when his thumb slips. The tone of the dial, loud and penetrating, pierces through the silent room. 

He freezes, eyes wide and darting across the empty room for a solution because apparently the idea of simply hanging up was conveniently forgotten in his panic. He holds his breath. On the fifth ring–

“Hello?” You ask, voice groggy. The unexpected wail of your phone had pervaded the darkness of your room and yanked you from the beginnings of sleep like one of those dreams where you feel like you’re falling and plunging to your sudden death. At least that’s what it felt like when you saw the random number flashing on your screen, nothing more terrifying to a Gen Z. 

Your thumb had swiped across the screen on pure instinct, the knee-jerk decline, decline, decline running through your brain. Only, in your half-asleep haze, you didn’t decline. You answered, because suddenly red and green are the exact same fucking thing. 

When you don’t get a response, you lift the phone away from your ear about to actually hang up this time, when you hear: 

“It’s me… Joel,” he says to his own surprise. He considers hanging up, blocking your number and pretending he rang the wrong person but the sound of your voice–  

You blink, disorientated. Not from sleep this time, but from the soft voice on the other hand. Softer than you’ve ever heard it before. You weren’t expecting to hear from him, not after your last time together that had you skipping your Chappel Roan playlist every time Casual came on.

Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out.

Both of which you’d almost managed to tick off before your dad had phoned asking where you both were. You were too dazed and frustrated at the sudden lack of Joel’s tongue to hear whatever excuse he’d come up with. 

But just like he’d warned you, he told you it wouldn’t happen again. 

The first week you spent in and out the house, in similar sundresses, hoping your eagerness would manifest another hookup from the staunch man, embarrassing fantasies of Joel banging down your door, breathless and proclaiming he must take you now occupied your mind and you swore you’d take them to your grave. You even forbid yourself from watching that scene in Bridgerton season 2 because Anthony Bridgerton declaring that India was not far enough was too much material for your thirst-addled brain to keep a shred of dignity. 

But one week turned into two and it seemed Joel had moved on. So, so did you. 

“Did I wake you?” He asks.

“No!” The word flies out too quickly, too desperately than you want the older man to think, which is probably odd considering he’d had you playing with yourself and sucking his thumb just to prove yourself worthy enough to take his dick. But there’s always been that divide with sex, or more specifically sex with Joel (if you could even call it that), it didn’t matter what you confessed to, how your body reacted, during the act because it was a guarantee he was secretly more depraved than you were. You didn’t feel that sting of judgement, not even when words like slut and whore tumbled from his mouth. But outside of it, acting too eager felt more like pulling the trigger than playing your part in whatever power dynamic you were tiptoeing your way into. You clear your throat, “what’s up? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah– Yeah, fine. I just–” He takes a deep breath, feeling more and more like he’s making a big mistake. But the memory of the last time he saw you–eyes glassy, hair messy from his hands and mouth swollen from use–has him desperate for that feeling again. The high of fucking around, the adrenaline of doing something he shouldn’t whilst feeling too good to reject it, didn’t he deserve to let go and do something stupid once in a while? “You at home? Alone?”

“He went to bed an hour ago, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

“Yeah. That’s...” His shoulders ease, eyes dropping to the black boxers snug around his hips. It wasn’t unusual for him to go to bed in just his underwear, sometimes not even that when the summer heat got too unbearable, but he knows. Knows it’s not the temperature that had him forgetting about the shirt tucked under his pillow from a few nights ago. It was you. This, that had him stripping down. “D’you want to…” He trails off, voice thick with suggestion.

You sit up straighter, back squashing your pillows, a small smile tugging at your lips at the shy hesitation that’s currently conflicting with the memory of this same man telling you how good you take him. “...Are you trying to booty call me?”

Joel huffs, a sound somewhere between laugh and embarrassment. The mattress dips under his weight as he stretches his legs out, one hand playing with the waistband of his boxers. “You want the honest answer?”

You hum, because saying the words: please say yes, please say yes were way more degrading than whatever Joel could ask you to suck next.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. He could still save this: could hang up, pretend it was a mistake and go to sleep in hopes of waking up with a clearer head. Hopefully one that sees the value in staying as far away from you as possible. But would he be able to make himself delete your number tomorrow? No, he would not. “Yeah, I am,” he finally answers.

Your laugh was soft, surprised. “When was the last time you booty called someone? I’m no expert, you’d be taking my booty call virginity, but I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be hotter than this.”

That broke him, had a rough bark ripping out of him. “I ain’t exactly been available for the past decade. Married life and single dad life don’t come with much booty callin’.” The phone against his cheek shakes with his shoulders. “But if this is your first time… guess I oughta make it memorable. Wanna learn how we do it in Texas?” 

Your lips curve, “Yessir.” 

For a beat, he just breathes into the receiver, letting the anticipation stretch until you were almost convinced he was just winding you up. When he finally speaks, his voice an octave lower, the Southern drawl thickening into something you’d only heard in audiobooks. Perhaps, you weren’t as secretive about your crush as you thought. 

“First you gotta tell me what you’re wearin’.” He drawls, leaving you to clench around nothing–you should really recommend him a career change, you’re certain he’d make a fortune voice-acting those god-awful, sexy cowboys from your romance selection. 

“Yeah? What if the answer’s really unsexy? What do I say then?” You ask, adding a small, seductive lilt to your teasing. You’re not wrong though, the answer is unsexy–an oversized shirt that still has a stain from whatever Mexican you’d been eating two years ago and some very non-erotic, cotton pants that you’re pretty sure your grandmother bought alongside her own. The stuff of fantasies, clearly.

His hand, more courageous now he’s decided that he wants this and is doing this, pulls at his waistband, letting it slap against his pelvis. He could already feel the need starting to course through him, his blood singing with prospect as it rushed south, straight to his half-hard cock. His mind begins to work overtime picturing the different ways you might look, and to his surprise, the thought of you wearing some old, cosy pajamas was doing wonders for his upcoming (pun intended) erection. 

The thought of your hair mussed, wearing something you probably wouldn’t want people seeing and yet describing it for him… It was a level to his need for power that he wasn’t even aware of. Something so minor that he was learning it himself, right now, over two decades of experience in. Just the thought of you going about your day unaware and innocent, and him dragging you away to get each other off, corrupting the softness of your plans. His cock throbs against the tight fabric. 

“I think I’ll love the sound of whatever you’re wearing,” he says finally, voice rasping as he slides the palm of his hand over his bulge. “Means I can talk you out of them.”

A little laugh bubbles out of you, a line as stupid as his somehow working. The phone in your left hand grows heavy, almost tempting you to put him on speaker so you can have your way with yourself. But the small part of you that’s still smart enough to think outside of whatever horny prison Joel’s voice is starting to trap you in, reminds you just what a bad idea that is and how filthy this really is for you. 

Phone sex is scandalous enough, it being your first time trying it, but the fact you’re doing it underneath your childhood roof like a rebellious teen, on top of the fact that your own dad is fast asleep upstairs, adding a whole other layer that would have Freud grasping for more sheets of paper to write his sick theories. This was all so wrong, so…disrespectful and yet your hand drifts into your cotton pants, already slipping with the slick of your arousal. Joel Miller, what are you doing to me?

“Think you’re desperate enough to believe me if I say something black, slutty and lacy?”

He snorts, his voice gruff as he leans back into the dominant side that has his filthy threats seeming more like a present and less like a punishment. “I think you’d be lucky I ain’t there to paint your ass red for lyin’ t’me.”

You add more pressure to the fingers circling your clit, back already arching into your hand at the relief. “You wanna punish me, Mr. Miller? All you have to do is ask.” You breathe out, soaking up the cursed groan on the other side of the call and add: “Just wanna be your good girl.” Oh, you’ve got him.

His breath hitches, the hand wrapping around his clothed dick stuttering. “Then move that pretty hand of yours out of your panties and say sorry.” His voice is rough, low, commanding and it has you half convinced you could get off to this call alone. 

Heat surges across your face, your chest, down your spine at the knowledge that you’ve been caught. “How did you–” 

“Can hear those little whimpers of yours.” He cuts in, unrelenting in his control. He squeezes his shaft once, the strength alone to not take himself out and fist his cock until he’s coming in two minutes flat, almost wavering. His hips cant up in response. “Don’t remember saying you could put a hand between those legs.”

You swallow hard, your fingers still moving with your usual rhythm, though the pounding of your heart and the spike of adrenaline at what he'll do has you worrying at your lip. “I thought–”

“Take your hand out and apologise.” He growls, voice steel with no-give ,every syllable deliberate and hand-crafted to make your hand freeze in fear-coated arousal. 

You give it one last go: “But I–”

“I said. Take. Your. Hand. Out of. Your damn panties.” His words are all harsh punctuation and threatening syllables, his tone volatile and more effective than any of your vibrators. “Or I’m gonna make you get yourself all excited and needy and then let you go to bed unsatisfied, I’ll hang up before you can hear me get off. How do you think that'd feel, hm?"

The whine that catches in your throat betrays you. Your eyes clench shut with the image of his hand wrapped tight around his length without you there, burning through your brain, unbearable. “Sorry, Joel.” You mumble, fingers slipping out of your underwear without any protest. The things, you think, the things this man could do to you, on you, or with you are innumerable.

The feelings of fear and shame materialising in the bedroom is a new one, electric and entirely disorienting, a concoction that floods every nerve ending. It has you reeling, scrambling even, to understand what was suddenly so wrong with your psyche that had you turned on by this older man shouting or insulting you. 

You were used to sex in its simplest form: taking each other’s clothes off, fucking until someone (the man, and only the man) finished, and cleaning yourselves up. Getting it on, and swiftly getting it done. 

But you were learning with each ragged plea for something, each shameful insult he groaned at you was intoxicating. That being made small, being called out, denied, pinned down was something as addictive as the thought of Joel corrupting you, unraveling every sense of your person and using it to make both you and himself feel good. You need more. 

A dark chuckle echoes through his side of the call, your breath stuttering. “Still my cock-hungry slut, aren’cha? Are you really that desperate to have some old fuck fist himself over the phone for you?”

His words ricochet through your ears, down to your chest and curling into your belly until you have to clench your thighs just to get something, anything. Your hand reaches behind your head, gripping at your pillow with white-knuckles to stop yourself from touching yourself again. The phrase my cock-hungry slut loops in your head, a filthy symphony singing back: his, his, his.

Silence stretches, words being lost to you. 

“Answer me.”

“Yes, Joel. I want–”

“You that desperate for anyone’s cock or is it just mine?” He interrupts, stroking over his boxers with the last bit of self-control he can muster.

You don’t even have to think about it. “Yours. Been thinking about how good he tasted. How good he’d feel.”

He shoves his hand into the tight, black material, fisting around his stiff cock, hot and heavy in his palm. A high whine slips from his open mouth, mirroring the ones he’s heard you make so many times, and he’d be so embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good. He tilts his head against the wooden headboard, thumb wiping at the bead of pre-cum already leaking from his sensitive tip. "You don’t even know how hard you got 'im."

You whimper, rejection swimming with frustration at not being able to see him, at not being able to feel yourself. The sound was your first mistake. 

His words are smug, belittling, broken down only by the pauses he takes with each stroke of pleasure. "You wanna hear how hard my cock is, huh? …You wanna… hear how bad he needs you right now? How many… t-times I’ve had to–”

“Please,” You beg. You’d ask him to tell you what he was doing, to paint that little picture in your head for you if you didn’t think he’d make you earn it first. No, Joel Miller does what he wants when he wants and all on his own terms. He’s doing it on purpose, toying with you like he’s promised to before, you’re sure of it.

“Been hard for the past two fucking weeks, y’know that? Spent every evening with my hand around my cock just thinking about how well you play with yourself. Bet she’s just weeping for me, ain’t she?”

You consider talking back, making some snide comment about how you wouldn’t know because he won’t let you touch yourself, but the way your body naturally careens towards everything he says has you whispering: “Have me soaking through.” 

“Good to know you’ve finally learnt to wear panties.” He mocks. “See if you’re still as good at taking them off.”

You don’t waste a second of his invitation, hands pushing eagerly at your own pants until they’re left on the floor like all those weeks ago. You don’t even bother to ask permission, plunging two fingers deep into your pussy, thumb firm against your clit. Your hips buck at your own over-sensitivity but you’re too desperate to stop altogether. 

The small whine he hears from your throat has his face scrunching up, hand fisting himself so tight until he feels his own heartbeat throbbing through his cock. His boxers are bunched under his aching balls, only adding to the sensation so guttural he can feel it in his throat. Even in the dark he can see how red and swollen his tip is, hot liquid dripping down and collecting under his hand. “Got ‘im leaking like a hose pipe just thinkin’ about havin’ you again.” 

Your fingers pump, curling to hit that spongy part of your walls that has your toes curling. Thinking about having you again? Your mood shifts, bitterness creeping in. One thought has been cropping up in the past nine days, late in the night when feelings of despair are heightened and your brain decides it's an appropriate time to overthink every decision and movement you’ve ever made. 

“How would you have me?” You ask. 

It’s a stupid thought, really, pathetic when you think about just how casual you and Joel have been. So casual, in fact, that you’re not even counted as fuck buddies, friends with benefits, a situationship. And yet, both times, it’s always been about touching. Yourself, him. At most using your mouth to get him off. But it’s enough for that seed of doubt to grow, even in the darkest of conditions, into something more–where maybe you’re good to watch, but not good enough to fuck. That you don’t meet some invisible standards Joel has set for some activities and not others.  

Maybe that’s what has you pushing, looking for an answer without the clingy reassurances that come from a girl expecting too much from a man who’s made it very clear from the start exactly how little this all means. “Let me guess, at your feet touching myself?” You continue. “Or on a bed touching myself, or perhaps you’ll be adventurous and ask me to touch my–” 

He tuts, his breath settling into a rhythm with each sloppy pump of his hand. He could feel his wrist beginning to burn, the tight grip of his fist paired with the slippery skin of his cock, making him have to work overtime to keep up the motions. He still finds it in him to scoff at your dramatics. “Uh oh, is my needy girl not happy with this old man? Have I not been giving you enough? I should be insulted, should go over there right now and smack the ungratefulness outta you until you’re thanking me for even calling you tonight.” He clicks his tongue before letting out another groan, each stroke bringing him dangerously close to the edge. “Not your fault though, is it? Can’t expect anything more from someone as cock-starving as you.” 

Another wave of shameful words have you breathing heavier and clenching around your fast moving fingers.

“That’s it, isn’t it.” He says, not a question. “How bad do you want my cock fillin’ that needy pussy?”

“So bad–” You breathe out. That familiar feeling curls in the pit of your stomach, your heartrate going uneven as you rock your hips into your hand, begging for more stimulation. 

“Mm.” His laugh is rough, humorless, and you’re somewhat convinced you’ve actually pissed him off. "You had plenty a’words for me the last time we spoke." He growls out, hand still working over his thick length. "You can do better than that, can’t you baby?"

The words tumble out of you in a rush, your voice breaking around the fantasies that you’ve kept to yourself years longer than you’ve known Joel. “Just want you to push me up against the wall and fuck me so hard I’m crying—”

His groan vibrates the phone pressed between your shoulder and your cheek, the device jostling with every shallow thrust of your lower half, you can hear the same coming from his side of the call. "Always sound like you're ready to crawl on your damn knees for me. Begging to be used, aren’cha? Gonna make me come thinkin’ ‘bout all those pretty tears streakin’ down your cheeks.” His voice wavers, straining as his pace grows more frantic. His bed creaks under him. “Fuck– You wanna– wanna know what I’d do to you if you let me?"

“What?” Your throat tightens.

He drags a slow, shaky breath before daring to open his mouth. “I’d make you come over in another one of those dresses of yours, wouldn’t bother telling you to wear something nice underneath, ‘cause I know you like to play with me by not wearin’ any panties. Shows you were hoping for me to notice. I’d let you make a few snarky comments, before I drag you upstairs and–”

He breaks off, panting, forcing the grip around his length to loosen and slow before he accidentally tips over the edge. He tries to ground himself, he really does, bar stopping altogether. “I’d make you get down on your hands and knees, keep you tied against the headboard as I give you the nice, long spankin’ you’ve been actin’ up for. Once, for that same ol’ attitude you don’t learn from, twice for bein’ a dumb baby who thinks I haven’t wanted to fuck that tight pussy since she clenched down on my fingers.” A groan tears out of him, hand forgetting all about his previous attempt at slowing down, mindlessly sliding out fast strokes over his cock, twisting at the head. “And the third as a reward, because I know damn well a teasin’ whore like you would be drippin’ down your own legs at the first two. And then I’d spend the next few hours fillin’ you up as many times as your body can–”

A pained groan leaves his throat, the pressure coiling in his stomach before bursting with one final squeeze to his tip. Thick, white ropes burst from his slit, coating his knuckles and stomach with each spurt of release. His head slams against the wooden frame, eyes squeezed shut as the feeling continues to overwhelm. His cock spurts three more times over his thighs before the mortification kicks in and he’s left feeling simultaneously like some old pervert and some inexperienced teenager who’s jumped the gun.

Words. That’s all it had taken. Rambling promises and an over-vivid imagination of his lesser unhinged fantasies and he made a mess all over himself. Not enough time to tell you, not enough self-control to draw it out until he had you whimpering and crying into your own hand with the desperate pleas to come first. 

To his surprise you follow shortly after, two of your fingers making a couple more rotations around your clit before your body seizes, warm pleasure spreading across your body with one deep inhale. All you hear is a high-pitched ringing in your ears as your body collapses against your bed, damp with sweat. You kick the duvet as far off the bed as you can.

Voice hoarse, you manage out a: “Joel, are you–” 

“Still here.” His reply is breathless, as he continues to pant out. “Fuck, I’m–” Stars are still blinding every corner of his vision, making it impossible to even consider getting up to get water. Not that he could with the mess across his lower half threatening to spill over with every keen breath. He’d have to change the sheets before he went to work. “Did you–”

“Yes.” 

A pause, then a rough sigh of relief. “Good.”

And you know he means it. It fills you with a strange sense of warmth, and a steel note of pride that you’ve been with someone who actually cares about you finishing as much as him–or at least when he’s not preventing you from coming to make a point.

The two of you sit in silence, your ragged breathing syncing, and if either of you notice, you don’t say anything. Your arm is slung over your eyes. His hand is still flat against his thigh, narrowly avoiding the mess he made. 

He starts, making you jump. “I don’t–”

You cut him off, repeating the same words he’s said to you the past two times. See, Joel? You don't just listen in the bedroom… or truck? when cocks are involved. You’re good like that. “Don’t think this should happen again, I know. Don’t worry, I won’t–” 

“Actually,” he interrupts. “I was gonna say I don’t want this to be it.” 

You blink, arm lowering to your mattress to push yourself up into a sitting position. “Oh.”

He huffs, a self-deprecating laugh, as he readjusts the phone higher up his ear. The large BATTERY LOW box lighting up his screen mocks him. “More embarrassin’ tellin’ you it ain’t gonna happen again then turnin’ ‘round and fuckin’ myself stupid.” His voice goes quiet again, that same tone he gives you when he is in fact telling you it can’t happen again. “But we shouldn’t–”

“Naturally.” You agree, waving a hand even though he can’t see it. But a new idea nags at your brain, the result of your latest life-decision flashing at you with bright, red neon signs saying here girl, over here. “Unless– Nevermind.”

He sits up, letting the liquid pool in places he doesn’t even want to think about. He reaches over, balling up the boxers that he’d suddenly found half-tangled at his ankles to swipe up the mess. Not sure when that happened. “‘Less what? Don’t get shy on me now, sweet girl.” 

You close your eyes, pressing your thumbnail into your thigh, just enough to keep you occupied but not enough to hurt. “I… decided to go back for my masters. Would be going back to college in three months...” You trail off, letting the unspoken words hang in the air, hearing the way his breath shifts.

His heart pounds in his ears as he processes your words, at the way out you were offering–out of the frustration and unmanageable memories of your brief hook-ups, out of the pattern he was seemingly getting closer to spiralling in. It would be temporary, something they could both agree on without any messy feelings or promises–and then it would end. Fully, completely, wrapped up. A definite end that would cut him off if he didn’t have the strength to walk away himself. “‘Cause adding a deadline won’t make it messy at all,” he jokes, more to himself. 

“Naturally,” you repeat, though you can’t believe you’ve even suggested the idea. Even more so, that he’s actually considering it. 

He goes to rub his hand over his face, stopping when he remembers just what he’s spent the last god-knows-how-long doing with said hand. He grimaces, tugging at his duvet instead. Three months of you, no guilt, no regrets, just pure indulgence without any complications. “Three months and then that’s it?” He asks.

“I go back to college, you go… to wherever it is you go. No one has to know.” You emphasise that last sentence, hoping he knows you really mean it–that there’s no hidden agenda, no chance of you running to your dad when things end and pointing the finger at Joel for breaking your poor, innocent heart. 

“And you’d be alright with that?” His voice is still rough, but underneath there’s something he doesn’t mean to show, a vulnerability almost, completely unlike the man who’s spent the last month taking control or using his assertiveness to hide behind.  

“Would you?”

He doesn’t even have to think about it, he already knows the answer. As far as he’s concerned, he’s a condemned man with everything you’ve both already done, three months was easily more than enough time to get his fill. Hell, you’d probably get bored of each other and forget all about it in a couple weeks. “Yeah. Yeah I could do that.”

“Then it’s a deal?” You confirm once more. 

He exhales, long and shaky, his fingers tightening around the phone as he tries to steady himself. “Yeah. It’s a deal.”

The air between you feels different now, no longer two people trying to get their post-orgasm bearings. It’s thicker. More charged. The weight of anticipation bearing down on you both. Three months stretched out ahead of you, unspoken promises not quite daring to come out. Then again, Joel had promised enough of what he wanted to do to you if he were to have you again tonight alone. 

He clears his throat, pulling you both out of your own overthinking minds. “Should probably let you get back to sleep,” he says, and then softer: “Thank you. F’tonight.” He doesn’t tell you why he called, doesn’t feel the need to tell you that he had a shit day, and for once needed support. He doesn’t need to. You probably already understand.

You bite down on the smile threatening to creep up. “You’re welcome. Thanks for telling me you want to fuck me.” 

He chuckles, and you feel sad that you’re missing out on a smile. He doesn’t do it often, if you really think about it, you probably haven’t even seen it for yourself. But what a sight it would be.

You’re about to pull the phone away, the device burning with overuse, when he stops you with your name. He hesitates. “What’s… your favourite colour?” 

You pause, caught off guard. “Red, yours?”

“Pale blue.” 

And there he is, one question closer to knowing you. 

TAG LIST: @pleurspetal @realsabworld @6quinn9 @pascalitobarnes @tarasworldstar @millersrevolver @windsweptarmadillo @ivyinthesun @hisvision @ivoryandflame

(comment to be added (and if you can, specify if you want to be added to the Interrupted Series taglist or for all Joel Miller fics <3)

[pythonmoth]

(Teach me how) to Love You

simon “ghost” riley x gn!reader

cw: fluff. lots of talking. domestic simon. pathetic simon because he’s my favourite.

a little wink to my friend @sheepispink bc she says my hair looks like strawberry laces now that its hot pink again and I can’t stop thinking about them lol

wc: 1.2k

Pt.1 Pt.2  Pt.3

Every night he falls asleep with his arms around you, and wakes up to the lingering smell of your shampoo on the bedsheets.

It has been like that for a couple of years, after all, but he can be silly and giddy about it now.

Ever since he confessed, two years into your accidentally-one-sided relationship, Simon’s been glowing. The morning after, nothing changed, he felt the same as always and, frankly, it was all he could’ve asked for; the only difference is that he’s all over you, his lips on your skin whenever he can. Simon can tell you find it hilarious, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth when he kisses your cheek, your forehead or your nape. It’s a silly sensation, realising how blind he’s been, but when the surprise makes your eyes brighten, he can tell you’re also thinking the same. Simon never thought he’d be overly clingy, but here he is, like a dog showing his belly every time you turn to him.

“Would you be mad if I told you I dated somebody else during this time?” Simon wonders, mouth pressing against your shoulder blades, a few days after the confession. Leonardo Dicaprio is busy making out with Kate Winslet as Titanic plays, and Simon’s arms are like iron chains around you, keeping your back against his chest.

Looking away from Kate, you head tilts back to look at him. A happy feeling grows in Simon’s stomach when he realises he can kiss that silly smile off your lips. “You didn’t date anybody else.”

“You don’t know that,” Simon huffs defensively, but he holds you tighter to his chest. Of course, he never went on a date, not because he was never sightly attracted to anybody but, truth be told, he knew they would’ve had a problem with your ‘friendship’. Simon would’ve never chosen them.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget how blind he was.

“You’re a loser, and all of your friends are dating already.”

“You love this loser.”

“You don’t know that.”

Pure, white-hot love bursts in his chest, his hands cupping your cheeks to squeeze them together, grunting. You shift, turning to him and Simon’s sure you’re trying to speak, but he can’t hear anything, his mind fixed on how much he absolutely adores you. It’s almost maddening, how fucking stupid he was. The glint in your eyes, your hand smacking the back of his head when he doesn’t let go, it all is just perfect.

And, he doesn’t even think of asking you if you had dated anybody else. He wouldn’t have minded. He doesn’t care.

“I love you,” Simon breathes out, chest tightening as your cheeks nearly hide your eyes when you smile. 

“I know that,” you grumble. His hands gripping your face make it difficult for you to speak, but Simon can make it out, so its fine.

“Fucker. Say you love me too.”

“Why?”

“Because you do.”

“Hm, do I?”

Another rush of love makes him grab you in his arms, cursing the universe again and again for making him so utterly stupid. Your laughter fills his lungs, his veins, and every little crack in his heart. The sun coming out from behind the clouds on a cold day, the birds singing for him after a long sleepless night and anything good in this world —that’s what you are for him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. Simon can finally breathe, he realises.

Deep in the happiness, there’s an ache he will never fully let go: Tommy. Even with your fingers digging on his side, his body flinching as you make him squeak, he thinks about his brother, about what he would think of you, of how much you could’ve taught Tommy yourself. Simon became a better person on his own, that’s true, but you were there, and he would’ve been damned if you hadn’t. 

Tommy would’ve loved you too.

“—idiot. Earth to Simon?” you grumble, his hands still holding you close. He stores the ache away, his smile blinding when your eyes meet.

“Hm?”

“I said I love you.”

“Do you now?”

“Don’t push your luck.” Even as you say that, your hands are holding his waist, pulling him closer. Simon happily complies.

In the back of his mind, a thought makes him pause just an instant, letting go of your shoulders just to wrap his warm arms around them instead. There’s no room for a single breath between the two of you, your lips on his cheek and his own on your shoulder. 

“Shouldn’t I kiss you now that you’ve confessed your undying love for me?” Simon wonders, his heart beating calmly against your chest. “Or whatever, you know.”

“Oh, I guess so. Why would you announce that, though? You could just do it.”

“And risk a kick on my balls? No, thank you.”

“I would not… actually, good call.”

A beat. 

Then two.

And finally, Simon feels you shift against him. In the background, the movie is still playing and he’s pretty sure Leonardo Dicaprio is dying but, to him, all that matters is your warmth against his. Your eyes are bright when they meet his gaze, a silly grin on your lips because, really, it is silly.

So, he goes for it. With a light huff, in complete disbelief and amused at how long this is taking, and hoping he does look as happy as he feels, Simon cradles your face in his hands and kisses you.

There’s no fireworks, no flowers blooming in his chest and no butterflies fighting inside his stomach. Instead, he fucking melts into a puddle at your feet, slipping through your fingers as they grip on his t-shirt, only held in place by your lips. It’s hot, deep and Simon is instantly doomed.

He’s pretty sure he’s pouting when you pull away, his fingertips brushing against your hot ears. You don’t move further away, just enough for your eyes to meet. Your eyebrow raises though, staring at him for a moment. “You stole one of my menthols, didn’t you?”

“That’s what you have to say right now?”

“So you didn’t?”

“... Maybe I did. But that’s what’s urgent right now? Wow. Here I am, confessing my own undying love for you and all you care about is your menthols.”

“I do love my menthols.”

“I hope they cuddle you tonight, because I certainly won’t.”

You let out the fakest, most ridiculous gasp he’s ever heard. The corner of Simon’s mouth twitches. “How dare you? So low of you.”

“Oh, you wanna talk about that? You ate all my strawberry laces the other day and— why are you smiling? I’m very serious here. Gods forbid a man has his issues and needs a cigarette before watching Titanic. Well, I’m sorry—”

Your mouth does a pretty good job at muffling his complaint, laughing when he continues rambling for a hot minute, but as soon as your fingertips press against his nape, he’s gone and quickly forgets what he was saying.

If complaining will get him your smile against his, your heartbeat against his own, Simon will have to make a list soon.

masterlist | buy me a coffee

little taglist: @just-a-little-nut @identity2212 @outfor-v @british-ppl-scare-me @fertilise-me

[corneredkitty]

shut in! rafayel who treats you like one would a favourite fictional character !! aka you are raf’s oshi <3

— his room is plastered with paintings and posters of you, bookshelves full of figures, framed pictures and trinkets, his whole room overloaded with things connected to you!! always wants to feel like you’re by his side and is just reallyy obsessed and in love :(

— has a little collection book with polaroids of you and him as well as a journal detailing every moment he deems important along with memorabilia attached to it (a few too many really, there are definitely more journals already filled up hiding somewhere among all the things in his home)

— 100% has a body pillow of you that’s misshaped because he hugs it every single night and uses it as jerk off aid your lover just needs some company when you aren’t sleeping by his side or away on missions

— has no shame the few times he actually leaves the house, he’s happily wearing an “i <3 my bride” shirt with your face printed on it and will loudly brag

— his everyday bag is decorated to the max! a polaroid of you two kissing eachother sits protected inside an artsy birb photocard holder, matching plushie keychains (you have the other one ofc!!) and a few silly meow badges you won on dates with him

— don’t worry your pretty little head about where he’s getting all the stuff from, he’s an artist! making things with his beloved in mind and creating is his greatest joy in life next to actually being with you <3

[terriblechickenhousebuilder]

if you had to pair each of the ro'meave brothers with someone who would be it be and why?

i'm going to assume this means romantic pairing,, it wasn't specified so i'm not sure.. if you did want friendships just send another ask and i can do those too! also, i'll do both diaries and mystreet!

vylad:

nobody — this seems like a skimp out answer BUT i generally see vylad as aroace !! i love characters who don't need a relationship to be satisfied in life and vylad has always seemed this way to me :) he spends time with his family and adventuring after his years stuck in the nether and he just gets to be happy :)

kacey — katelyn's younger brother! we don't get muuuch content of vylad in mystreet (JESS PLEASE BRING HIM BACK PLEASE) but from what we do get in pdh, vylad being quite chill and confident compared to kacey's shyness is a rlly sweet dynamic <3

zane:

janus — giggles. they were zane's favourite juror—no way there's anything platonic about that. mcd zane isn't really capable of a normal/healthy relationship in my eyes so it makes sense for me to pair him with someone just as morally corrupt as he is

aphmau — ohh boy this one isn't everyone's cup of tea... but early zanemau to me was so beautiful. it felt like they both had so much in common and aphmau was allowed to be herself around him without being dumbed down (in a sense that she used to be a little more awkward but standoffish?? if that makes sense. pre-mystreet-lobotomy aph you were so beautiful /lh) and she was the first person to see zane for who he really was rather than the pretense he puts on for everyone <3

garroth (sweats /silly):

laurance — look you all knew what my answer was going to be </3 child james is sad i didn't say garmau here but i genuinely don't believe those two would be compatible in a long-term relationship. garroth puts aphmau on too much of a pedestal and aphmau would never completely trust garroth after his betrayal. but laurance? he knows garroth. they were so similar without even realising it. he saw through all that guarded bullshit. and i like to think garroth would be the one with enough patience to deal with the shitshow that is laurance once he returns from the nether <3

laurance - COME ON. i wasn't going to say anyone else. no other garroth ship in this series comes close to whatever weird shit these two had going on. they lived together for years and were joint at the hip pretty much since high school,, they're definetly not the healthiest couple at first (pdh garrance what a mess you were /lh) but as they go on i do think they're just the "didn't know they were dating" trope but as a married couple lmao (i'm soooo excited for a reunion between them in s7... i wonder if we'll get another garrande hug <3)

again, i'd be rlly happy to do friendships as well :3 but thank u so much for this question, it was a lot of fun to answer!

[crazylittlejester]

*hands you a comically large inflatable microphone* what are your top 5 favourite facts/headcanons about the LU boys? (Can be either mmau or regular)

*snatches it and screams*

1. Twilight’s name in the mm au coming from the fact that he enjoys the twilight movies and war refused to let him live that down is genuinely my favorite thing ever and every so often im like “damn im so funny for making up that lore”

2. War and my hcs for his hair (it naturally being dark brown and curly and he dyes and straightens it) and all that it means to him. I love messing around with his hair. Also just tied in with that hc, the fact that he looks JUST like his mom. I just like my hcs for how all the links look in general lmao

3. Sky genuinely being someone who has to choose peace and love every single day when he wakes up because he can’t let the anger issues turn him into an asshole. And the fact that he has low tolerance for things that frustrate him and take a lot of patience but his favorite crafts are fucking wood carving and pottery, two things that require a lot of time and patience and REQUIRE you to be okay with messing up

4. War and his food issues/fear of contamination/reliance on oranges, because a lot of his problems were based off my own and so that makes it special to me

5. mm au Time accidentally causing Twi to be afraid of the muppets for the rest of his life will never not be funny to me

[starlightshadowsworld]

Mori makes me violently ill Everytime I think about his role in the BSD universe

Because as far as we're aware there is only maybe one or two universes where he isn't the Boss of the Mafia, maybe there might be one where the Great War doesn't happen

So with the exclusion of the possible 3 universes, Mori is always stuck doing something he would rather not for something he loves, because it's very clear to me that he doesn't take any sort of enjoyment in the suffering he's caused and is still causing

He has to abuse a child's Ability to save the country. Many people think he enjoyed it, but BEAST says, while indirectly, that he likely hated every single second of it.

He still thinks he's in a war. The War ended when he came to get Yosano, but while he's fighting with Fukuzawa he refers to the time they are in as a war. He's never actually left the field, even if there are no more bombs or trenches or barracks. He just traded them. A country's war for an underground one.

He meets a boy who can finally help him calm this new war, only for himself to realize when it's over that he has simply put himself on the front lines instead. Things amount tension, and right at the needlepoint, he gains a sudden opportunity to at least level some of the problems.

Only to loose one of his most powerful assets.

Then he has to cycle through more people...

And then Atsushi comes along and suddenly all of the things he's done to tame the dark have been for naught and now the world is ending.

Someone get this man a goddamn break holy shit

Mori is a fascinating individual and you bring up some interesting points.

I think thats sometimes easy to miss given how sadistic Mori can be.He revels in the darkness around him for it is the light and darkness of his city is what he loves so much.

But it’s important to note that everything Mori does serves a greater purpose. It’s never really to satisfy his own curiosity or enjoyment or something.

It’s because it has to be done.It does make me wonder if Mori ever wanted to become the Port Mafia boss. Or if it’s simply a role he took because it had to be done because the old boss was poisoning the city and ruining it so someone had to take his place.

And then there’s Natsume and his whole thing about the Tripartite framework.

You look at Bsd Beast where Mori is the headmaster and wonder is that what he’d rather be doing?

But as he says in his speech to Chuuya in Fifteen, in his eyes being a leader is to be the head of an organisation and its slave.

And that’s the role he takes on.

Mori is willing to do whatever it takes for the sake of his goals because in the end it’s the bigger picture that matters.

And everything Mori had done since the Great War was for his city.

The idea of him believing he’s still stuck in that war it’s just the opponent that’s changed is really intriguing.

I’m always so drawn to how his and Fukuchi’s plan for an immortal army went in completely different directions. They both wanted to prevent another war / tragedy.

But while they both failed Fukuchi did so because he lost the trust of his allies. While from Fifteen we see Mori trying to gain the trust of his allies.

He kinda reminds me of Kunikida in the sense that both of them live and breathe their organisations. And are willing to do whatever it takes to protect the city no matter the personal cost.

Like Kunikida prioritised the safety of the city over personal revenge during the Cannbalism arc. Because he knew an all out war could break out beteeen their organisations and innocent lives would be in danger.

And Mori prioritised the safety of Junichiro and Kenji during the vampire invasion knowing that his organisation was falling and the Agency would need all the power they required to defeat the enemy.

Everything about either of them do, their actions and the way they live their lives revolves around their ability to serve their respective organisations.

But yeah Mori is probably my favourite antagonist in the main line Bungou Stray Dogs series hands down.

[spnfanficpond]

July 2025 Angel Fish Awards

(Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words. (Click here to learn more about how to nominate a fic for an award!)

Nominated by @charliethealpaccaso

Purr-fect by @jd71

I was looking for some more transformation stories last month and had the author recommend their own fic to read. I got to say it was a pretty good and interesting fic to read, and the transformations alone for Jensen in this worked well for what I was seeking. I want to give them props again for the effort put in for that alone.

You're Flemish Giant Rabbit, Sam Winchester by Mulletbro

It was a nice change of pace to see another nice Sam transformation fanfic, this time with him changing into a rabbit out of all things.

~*~*~

Nominated by @justwhisperingfantasies

Playing With Fire by @samanddean76

How do I keep this to a sentence or two (lol) - Sal's piece is just plain amazing as always. The way she writes is just ahh *chef's kiss*. This story has action, had me on the edge of my seat a couple times, it's got romance, Dean's devotion for his Alpha, Sam's love for his Omega. The little twist that is not a backfire. Oh, I just loved it!

~*~*~

Nominated by @leatafandom

Brighter Than the Sun by whatifiwasrosie

So many reasons to nominate this tale, overall wonderful! I really love this as a character study of how he's portrayed throughout it and the changes he undergoes through the ages. Really enjoyed Gabriel watching falling for humanity and for a single soul. Plus, a reincarnated soul love story is just a favorite of mine. The whole journey is just so wonderful.

What Good Is All This Talk of Wings? by @rusearusco

The Midam, the Lore, the so done with Adam! Oh, this story is just fantastic and such a great follow up and a wonderful add to the lore of this universe. I just adore it. Give it a read, you will not be disappointed, it is wonderful.

When a Bird Falls From The Nest by Goldflame_Spirea

This was such a good read! I really enjoy a bratty (with reasons) teenage Gabriel, and I love the dynamic you've created within their family, and absolutely adore it. So many heart string pulling lines within this tale, it's just beautiful and touching. Truly an amazing read with amazing artwork <3

with one eye open by @holyfreaks

This was beautifully written! The whump and angst and anger ugh, just stunning. The feels in this just cut so deep. It's magnificent.

~*~*~

Nominated by @masoena

Many Happy Returns by @samanddean76

Beautiful heart-warming fic of Jared crossing over into the SPN verse to give kid Sam and Dean a kind of day they'd never forget.

The Mathematician and the Agent by tsc1121

This is a fabulous J2 RPF AU fic that has the right amount of humor, plot, angst, hurt and comfort that makes my fic reader heart happy. Also Jensen in this has autistism and the author pulled those characteristics throughout the entire story.

Velvet Kitty Cat by HelloStarling

My bookmark says: Cutest, sexiest, most adorable catboy Sam/Dean fic ever.

The walls we built by @23swife

Magnificent post-cage Sam interlude with Dean helping Sam get better. Very mild wincest. So good

August by @xpurdyglambertx (art by yoann)

This is an amazingly well, written wincest fic, set in the Pacific Northwest. Loved the art and everything about the story. 3rd party appreciation of Sam and Dean included.

~*~*~

Nominated by @rusearusco

How to Get a Trickster to Help by @leatafandom

Always love a good Sabriel story! Especially some early Gabe where he's mostly trickster and just wants to be entertained by his favourite human, even when said human has stuff to do.

Beyond the Sea by @agenthellcat

Loved this! It really did a great job of capturing all of Dean's complicated emotions, especially his guilt. This story is an excellent internal monologue about a guy with 20/20 hindsight!

Flustered For You by @castielscaplan

I feel like I don't see much of this ship, but watching these two fight is so damn compelling!! As much as I love a good cute, fluff story, sometimes you just wanna read about two people who kind of hate each other, but hey, hate and love are never truly opposites ;)

What Are You Not Telling Me by @justwhisperingfantasies

Really enjoyed this story! It did so well at keeping the vibes and the stakes of this scene while also adding some extra. This fic also worked really well with the mood board it was based it on!

~*~*~

Nominated by @samanddean76

World's End by spnangelbanger

This is heart-wrenching, a total gut punch, and will leave you questioning everything. It is not tender or kind, and it screams its condemnation of your feelings. But it is.. true. It is a canon-divergent rewrite of the aftermath of season 11's The Devil In The Details, and instead of Lucifer taking Castiel, he takes Sam. Uses him and returns to Dean a broken and battered husk. Dean does not make good decisions. And it ends... badly. But even then, nothing really ends, does it?

Forgotten Heaven by spnangelbanger

This is part 2. It follows in the wake of Dean taking his and Sam's life. He awakes in heaven, and he rejoices, until he realizes he is being haunted. But it not really him being stalked, rather its Sam. By a ghoulish and macabre spirit. Dean attempts to ditch the ghost, and finally confronts it... only to discover that it is the real Sam. Dean had been sharing his heaven with a Memorex copy of Sam - but the twisted monster is what was left after Lucifer was done with him. Now Dean has to try to put the real Sam back together. He of course, doesn't listen, or go about it in the proper way, and much like the first story, it is heart breaking to watch all of his efforts. As horrific as all that is, there is a promise of a bittersweet and vaguely hopefully ending before the story concludes. Because when did Supernatural ever promise you a happy ending? Bring the tissues, because you'll need them.

Until I Found You by @xpurdyglambertx

This story is an emotional journey of a young trans Dean Winchester who is trying to support his cancer-stricken father while raising his much younger brother. By pimping himself out to anyone who can afford some of his time. Until the night he runs in Castiel, a world-weary Gas-N-Sip clerk, who takes an interest in the young man, and ends up rescuing him late one night. It does not go according to plan. Bring all the tissues and prepare to be taken on a journey of self-discovery and healing that somehow manages to have a happy ending.

KAZ-2Y5 Trading Vessel - Model 2.0 by @masoena

When everything is perfect, life should be grand, shouldn't it? But it wasn't and it isn't, because they didn't get the details quite right. And now Dean is living with the robot version of Sam, until he can't take it any longer. Strap yourselves in, take off is not going to be smooth, and neither is the sailing to distant galaxies. Bring the tissues and know that they will meet again.

In The Woods, Somewhere by @enteselene

Dark secrets? Facing a broken past? Running away rather than facing your demons? Yes, to all. But in the midst of tragedy, happiness and healing can be found. A little bit magical, a little bit mystical, and Dean has to decide where he truly wants to be. Here, there, or everywhere. It's a wild ride, but there is a happy ending, far, far off on the horizon.

~*~*~

Nominated by @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth

Palm Tree Magnet by @maybefanficting

This was such a zoomed-in little story, but it really packed a punch. Made me sit in silence afterwards. Absolutely gorgeous & heartbreaking at the same time.

sitting pretty by @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery

Insanely sensual, for all fans of a submissive Sam. The smut is simply divine. I want to eat this fic.

~*~*~

Nominated by @xpurdyglambertx

No Roots by @samanddean76

Now, I know this may seem a bit biased, seeing as how I did the art for this story, but I can promise y'all I'd still be nominating it regardless, because this story is just SO DANG COOL! The idea is totally original and super creative - dragon shifters that are firefighters! How perfect is that!? And I'm not sure which was hotter - all the fire, or the killer smut scenes! It's just written so well, the plot is amazing and flows so naturally. Please give this story a read. It's so worth it and deserves all the love it can get!

(Divider by @glygriffe)

THANK YOU ALL, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

- From your Admins and Manta Rays:

Michelle - @mrswhozeewhatsis

Marie - @mariekoukie6661

Arthur - @heavenssexiestangel

Laili - @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

Andrea - @walkingaline

Liz - @xpurdyglambertx

Leata - @leatafandom

Mana - @manawhaat

[voievod]

MEHMED II depicted on a sketch from 1882 (x); on an oil painting from the 16th century attributed to the Venetian Renaissance painter Paolo Veronese (x).

[sysig]

Divided minds of the same thought (Patreon)

[yumiblaze]

Cursed - Saja Boys X Fem!Reader Part 29

What do you mean this is the longest smut scene so far? It's not like I was waiting to write a smut scene for my favourite little shit ~~<3

PROLOGUE / PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / PART 5 / PART 6 / PART 7 / PART 8 / PART 9 / PART 10 / PART 11 / PART 12 / PART 13 / PART 14 / PART 15 / PART 16 / PART 17 / PART 18 / PART 19 / PART 20 / PART 21 / PART 22 / PART 23 / PART 24 / PART 25 / PART 26 / PART 27 / PART 28

WARNING: EXPLICIT SMUT SCENE INCLUDING ORAL, FINGERING AND PENATRATION AS WELL AS ROUGH TREATMENT AND LIGHT DEGRADATION (for those of you who do not want to read I do state the start and the end of such scenes!)

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

You had thought you were really good at Mario Kart but it seems that the demon had clearly been practicing this game. You had won two, Baby had won two and now you were fighting for the final victory on Rainbow Road of all tracks. Baby had been very specific with choosing Bowser before the race and was now using the size of his character to push you off of the track whenever he could.

“Baby stop that!” You hissed as he punted you off the road with his character.

“No way, it’s not cheating to just be smarter than you.” Baby spat back, a smug smirk decorating his face.

You flicked your eyes towards him for a second, your whole body invested in a new plan to catch him off guard at the perfect moment. There was a tight turn coming up and if you could push his joystick at just the right time you could get him to fall of the track and you would be able to regain 1st place. You weren’t sitting right next to him but you were sure the length of your body would make it able for you to reach over in time if you tried.

You made sure your character was positioned just behind him, ready to snatch first place on the next corner and you waited a few more seconds for the perfect moment. Once you saw Baby start to turn the corner you dove across the room, your right hand reaching out to his controller and jamming it to the side.

“What the fuck?!” Baby squealed as he tried to recover but it was too late as Bowser slide of the edge of the road.

You laughed maniacally at his failure, your character moving in to claim first place. Before you could manoeuvre back into your own seat Baby hissed in disapproval and lifted up the bottom of his hoodie. Without taking the clothing off he stuffed the lower half of his hoodie over your head stopping you from being able to see the screen.

You took your hand off of the accelerator and tried to wriggle out from under the hoodie, only getting out just in time to save you character from falling off of the edge of the track. Due to you slowing down though Baby was able to catch up to you, as well as a few CPU characters flying ahead of you.

“You’re such a bitch.” Baby hissed trying his best to catch up.

“You said it’s not cheating if I’m just smarter than you right?” You fired back sitting back upright and focusing on the game.

“Oh so you wanna play like that?” Baby asked, his eyes flickering gold not that you noticed since you were so set on winning the game.

You were sitting up on your knees and your legs were tightly tucked underneath you as you had abandoned the bean bag you had been sitting on when you dove over to Baby. You saw the finish line up ahead on the mini map you were so close, you weren’t first but you were in front of Baby and that was all you were worried about.

Before you could reach the line you felt a warm hand on your leg, Baby had grabbed the leg furthest away from him and he pulled hard. You immediately tipped over sideways, your hands dropping the controller and an attempt to stop your body fully slamming into the floor. You watched the controller fall cursing loudly as your hands reached out to reclaim the controls. Baby just let out a loud laugh before dragging you across the floor of the room away from the controller, your leg still in his strong grip as he stood up your body tipping so you were almost upside-down.

“Let go!” You screamed, your hands scrapping across the carpet, your dress skirt flipping and leaving your legs bare and uncovered.

“Why? Not only do I get to win but I have the best view!” The demon teased, shoving your thigh under his arm so he could steer himself across the finish line.

You shrieked at his statement and kicked out with your free leg, knocking the controller out of his hands. You smiled at the boy from over your shoulder, proud of yourself for making him lose his controller too. The smile left your face when Baby raised his hand and brought it down hard against your ass, a squeal leaving your mouth from the sting.

“Baby!” You cried your face red, embarrassment hitting you in full force. “That’s not funny! L-Let go!” You pleaded blood still rushing to your head from your position.

“Apologise.” Baby commanded his voice lower than before.

“What?” You asked slightly confused at the sudden change in tone.

“You heard me.” The demon told you his hand coming down on your ass again. “I said apologise.”

You gasped at the second slap, the sore sting sending more than just a pang of pain pulsing through your body.

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered quietly, your face feeling even hotter by the second.

“Good girl.~” The man purred. He grabbed your arms and dropped your legs, pulling you back onto your feet, face to face with him.

“Everybody’s been treating you so gently it seems you’ve forgotten you’re in an apartment full of demons.” Baby told you, golden eyes burning into your own. “Time to teach you how demons punish pretty little things like you.”

SMUT STARTS HERE~~~~

You felt your body shiver from his words, your heart racing. The demon roughly pulled you into him, his hungry lips meeting yours in a vicious kiss. You felt his hand grip your hair, tangling it around his fingers and gripping tightly. He yanked on your hair making you whimper into the kiss, earning a groan from him in response. Despite how rough he was being you felt your arousal grow, your whole body loving the way you were being abused by the dominant man. You felt the man bite down on your bottom lip harshly before pulling away, a small dribble of blood leaking from the fresh wound on your lip.

“You’re going to be a good girl and follow my orders now right?” He asked you, his voice low and husky.

You found yourself nodding feverishly, your head struggling against the tight grip he had on your hair. His hand released your hair, his body stepping away from your own. You felt goose bumps raise on your skin from the sudden loss of warmth, a small shiver running through your body.

“Strip for me.” Baby ordered, faint purple patterns becoming visible against his pale skin.

You swallowed thickly before slowly pulling your dress over your head, looking into his unblinking golden eyes as you undid the clasp on your bra. You felt you face flush as your bra fell to the floor, your panties following shortly after, your shaking hands pulling off your stockings last. You ears picked up on Baby’s breathe hitching as you undergarments fell away, his golden eyes drinking in every last detail of your naked body.

“You look so fucking hot.” Baby told you as he slowly approached you, he leaned in his mouth ghosting against your own. “Now be a good little slut and kneel for me.”

You did as you were told without hesitation, the golden eyes boring into your soul almost hypnotising you. Your own breathing hitched when the man threw of his hoodie and slide down his boxers, his length springing free right in front of your face. Baby’s hand laced itself back through your hair, the strands pulling against your scalp as he took hold of as much as he could.

“Suck it.” He demanded still staring down at you, your hand moving toward his length. “No hands.”

Your hand twitched in mid-air before going back to rest on one of your bare thighs. You stuck your tongue out, licking along his length from the base all the way to the tip before wrapping your mouth around him. You began to move back and forth, your mouth struggling to take his full length. The demon above you groaned in pleasure the hand in your hair pushing your head further into him. Your felt his hips buck forward, his full length hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag around him. You felt your eyes watering as you were practically pulled back and forth by your hair, trying to relax your throat as much as you could. Saliva dripped down your chin as you continued to use your mouth, the moans from Baby spilling freely from his. After a few more dips of your head you were pulled away from his cock, your spit dripping onto the floor as you coughed slightly.

“You’ve been such a good girl.~” Baby cooed his eye half lidded. “Do you think I should reward you?”

You looked up at him with your watery eyes nodding at the demon standing over you. Baby smirked, your hair falling from his grip.

“Then lay back for me and let me show you what my mouth can do.”

You obediently laid yourself down on your back, your thighs spreading apart for the mint hair demon who was lowering himself over you. Two rough hands, fingers tinted a dark purple tightly gripped onto your thighs, his nails easily piercing your soft skin. You bit your bottom lip as the demon lowered his face toward your waiting pussy, his glowing eyes locked onto yours. He ran his tongue slowly up your folds, a gasp of pleasure slipping from your mouth. The boy repeated his action, your pussy pulsing in pleasure now it was finally getting some attention. Baby painfully slowly began to eat you out, his tongue slowly exploring you. Your eyes were still locked with his, small waves of pleasure washing you over your with each flick of his tongue. You whined slightly from wanting more from him, the slow pace of his tongue almost torturing you.

“What wrong baby? You want something from me?” Baby asked you, the edges of his mouth curling into a cruel smirk.

“I need more Baby.” You told him desperate for him to stop going so slow.

“More? More of what cutie?” He asked tilting his head in faux innocence.

“I need you to go faster, I need your fingers inside me.”

The man chuckled at your words, sliding a finger into you making you moan out loudly. Before you could even adjust he slid it back out and returned with two fingers, his mouth suddenly back on you with rough licks and sucks. You threw your head back as an intense wave of pleasure crashed through your body, your pussy overwhelmed by so much attention at once. Moans slipped from your mouth unable to stay quiet as the mint haired demon pleasured your soaking pussy.

“Baby!” You cried out your hand instinctively grabbed at his hair. A rough hand grabbed your hand before you could grip anything, pinning your wrist against the floor.

“You like this you little fucking slut.” Baby taunted you in-between licks, his rough words heightening your pleasure.

“Fuck!” You squealed as his fingers hit that spot inside you.

“I want you to fucking cum for me! Cum like the good little slut you are!” The demon growled against you, the vibrations from his voice carrying you toward climax. After a couple more pumps of his fingers you screamed out his name, your pussy cumming around his fingers with an intense orgasm.

As you started to come down from your orgasm, you felt Baby crawl over you, his wet fingers forcing themselves into your mouth. You obediently sucked the digits, tasting your own liquids from Baby’s soft fingers.

“You like tasting yourself off my fingers you greedy little slut.” Baby asked, as he slowly pulled his finger from your mouth.

You weakly nodded at his question before you were roughly flipped over, your hips being lifted into the air. You could only gasp at this action before he thrust himself into you, your pussy pulsing around him from overstimulation.

“Fuck! You’re so fucking tight!” Baby growled out, one of his hands grabbing onto your hair.

Your felt his other hand roughly grip your hip, his nails digging into your skin as he began ruthlessly thrusting into your dripping hole. You could only let moans leak from your mouth as he pounded into you, the pain of his rough movements melting into a pleasure you hadn’t experienced before. Each slam of his hips made you cry out, your whole body shivering as you felt the pleasure building a second time.

“Say my name.” Baby told you, giving your hair a rough pull to make sure you paid attention to his words.

“Baby!” You cried out.

“Louder.” He ordered his grip on your hip disappearing just to be replaced by a slap against you ass.

“Baby!” You screamed as he slapped you again harder.

“That’s it let everyone in this fucking building know who you belong to.” The demon growled another slap against your soft butt sending more painful pleasure through your writhing form.

You kept repeating his name with each slap you got, your mind struggling to find any other words left inside your overstimulated brain. You felt your orgasm rushing over you for the second time, your whole body shaking from the intense feeling washing over your abused form. Baby growled loudly, almost animalistically as he slammed into a couple more times, your pussy tightly gripping his dick. You gasped loudly when you felt his warm release deep inside you, your body still trying to deal with the aftershock of your intense orgasm.

Baby stilled against you once his length stopped jittering, his hand falling from your hair and gently sliding underneath your chest. He lifted your back into his chest, both arms gently wrapping around your tired form. You felt his lips softly kissing your neck, his once rough arms cradling you with the utmost care.

“I love you.” He whispered against your neck his voice quiet and sincere. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You replied, your hands coming to rest over his.

The boy gave you one more soft kiss against your shoulder before he pulled out of you, your body sighing in relief.

SMUT ENDS HERE~~~~

The man then scooped you up into his arms, not even getting dressed before he carried you all the way to the bathroom. He sat you on his bare lap as he ran a bath his soft hand rubbing calming circles against your back.

“I didn’t hurt you too much right?” Baby asked you, as the water ran. “I probably should’ve given you a safe word but I got carried away in the moment.”

“No.” You replied shyly. “I enjoyed it.”

“Good.” He kissed the top of your head, turning of the water as the bath filled enough. The mint haired man helped you into the bath before wandering off to go grab you some clothes and towels, your body relaxing into the warm water.

@ffcfffr @whimsiecat @gremlinartstudio @chugjugg @aerissblog @kitkatpattywack2808 @airwolf92 @fries11 @doggyteam2028 @downbadgirlypoo @kashasenpai @seung185 @faefanatic @izzieg3987 @lansy-4 @weponxwrites @bunniotomia @chaoticfivesworld @clmstorm @sra7riddle-malfoy @vi1326 @justanotherkpopstanlol @jaeyuuns @tikitsune @zzsloth @yumi-does-stuff @ghost-reine @yuurisfavblog @dragongirl642 @just-a-blue-nerd @snowy-violet @justanindiangirl12 @sexually-attracted-to-pans @minthoneynbasil @tatsuri-zomushiki @ellie-x0xo @olxh @satansdaughter123 @reallysparklychaos @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @lostsomewhereinthegarden @avadakadabra93 @szc56 @phoenixflying666 @l0wlifepr1ncess @reverie-sxno @fantasyhopperhea @bakusquadobsessed @adorablepandasuniverse @sad-sie

[lolacouldnotcareless]

The Rules: Use 3 emojis to describe 5 of your favorite QLs and have people guess them, then tag some folks to do the same! thanks @thistle--bug for tagging me :3

1. 🏳️‍🌈💸🚫

2. ⛰️🫀✨

3. 💯❤️🧧

4. 🌵🔫🩺

5. 🔥👵👔

6. 🐮🚗🔄

i’m tagging @tootiredtoosadtooangry, @babetanatat, @thelastoftheredhotswamis2, @hyperbolicgrinch, @disastergem and anyone who wants to play and guess :3

[feline-evil]

Wrench looking at Literally Anything and Anyone: (Rage. Disgust. Trying to kill with his gaze alone.)

Wrench looking at Numbers:

(Well listen. Ok. This is Wrench we're talking about so still some rage and still some killing-gaze but. Softer....Soft....Reserved only for This One Guy. I know it's subtle, he's Mr Wrench. But look, see hims face.)

[julie-finlay]

Finlay Friday

13x18: “Sheltered, script extracts pt. 2/2

[ilargeicontradictmiself]

I don't think we've talked enough about how iconic it was that the flash got both Wentworth and dominic to play partners, ice and fire, with wentworth the one making the plans. Like the first episode he appears in they don't even show dominic, you hear him say "yeah buddy im in" at the very end of the episode. They gave them whole ass brotherly partners they started in the flash then moved to legends and all that after the first run of prison break, like they knew the power they had at that point. Fucking iconic.