#i spent so fuckin long on this so please for the love of god
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What's a kink of each of the riddlers that you feel like you haven't really talked about?
More Riddler Kinks
Riddler Headcanons
hooray, finally getting round to this one after the event!! it's a long one too oops... ok i am got INTO this. some of them i think i've mentioned before but i am so glad to put my silly little thoughts into more detail 💚
request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist
minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: so many potentially triggering kinks here, cnc, piss, free use, roleplay, rough sex, violence, monster fucking, nude photography
dano
i have written about it a LOT but he definitely has a thing for cnc/rape play
and with him, it comes from a space of feeling like he's not good enough, and follows his life's trajectory of having to take things he wants rather than wait patiently for them to come to him
he wants to be in control of a situation, something he's never had before in any aspect of life
something that allows him to feel like he's in charge, that he's got the power
and at the same time, it's so emotionally fulfilling for him to be trusted by someone to that extent
to know a partner is willing to allow themselves to be so vulnerable around him, to get to be so close and intimate with someone
to feel like he's someone you have actively chosen to trust and let him take part in something like that
and to speak to him like an intelligent adult while you cover rules and boundaries and safe-words
that's so healing for him to experience, and it only amplifies his sweet and adoring behaviour outside of your more intense bedroom sessions
plus, any excuse to offer you the most satisfactorily sickeningly sweet aftercare, that's what he's really after
arkham
i play with this man like he's a fucking doll honestly there's not a kink i wouldn't give him, but allow me to delve into my most recent fixation
because i'm giving him a piss kink and no one can stop me
i don't think it's so much about the piss for him, more about the mess and the sense of control over someone's behaviours and habits
definitely about the embarrassment and humiliation
because the minute you let yourself go, the minute you're vulnerable standing or sitting in front of him
bound by his rules to not interrupt him for bathroom breaks
knowing that any mess you make is your own fault
that's when he gets his kicks
and the ability to chastise and degrade you for making a mess of yourself and having very little self-control is an added benefit
telling you how ashamed you should be, while you can see the smug smile on his face and the growing tent at the front of his stupid cargo pants
i don't think he'd piss in you or on you though. as messy as he is i think even he knows standards of good practice when it comes to germs and such
(he's filthy, yes, but very picky over certain textures and substances, it's the autism)
plus the act of him defiling you would be too much, since this idiot harbours intense feelings of admiration and respect that he's too scared or embarrassed to admit to
gotham
i don't think i've gone into too much detail about his medical fetish, but he definitely has one
i mean, i did write that thing on the autopsy table... but anyway!
definitely veering towards the experimental side of medical roleplay
he'll get all of the correct gear on, nothing inherently sexual about it unless you're into that kind of thing
protective gear though, a smock, rubber gloves, maybe a mask
and you'll be expected to be fully nude, all of you exposed to him so that he can test the limits of each part of you
see how every square inch of your skin reacts to his touch
or to his various 'tools' that he's got, sterilised and prepared to work on you
there's no medical benefits to this, he's not aiming to fix you
but he is definitely good at making you feel much, much better than you did before you were laid down on his table
teased, torturous edging, new experiences and toys
until you're a shuddering mess, ready to be eased up for some aftercare before he cleans up for your next appointment
his desire to study you, to see what makes you tick and what makes you make the sweetest sounds is what motivates him here
and he will take rigorous and extensive notes during and afterwards
and then study them in his down time (or alone time)
telltale
corruption, for sure. like his whole personality revolves around being the best and greatest manipulator and schemer that ever was
so corrupting your innocence, real or roleplayed, gives him everything he wants from a sexual encounter
and in a relationship
it's not like he's 24/7 on with the whole "i am your master" thing
but it leeches into everyday life easily enough when you spend a lot of time in his company
any roleplay scenario where he can play an authoritative character while you are a weaker, more innocent position works for him
professor and student, master and servant, he's not beyond playing god and having you pretend to be a nun either, and there are more taboo pairings he's willing to try
there's often elements of bondage, dominance, spirit breaking, orgasm control
anything where he has the higher ground
and he can teach you and show you new and exciting, or scary, things
having you beg to show him the correct ways, to educate you, to give you a new experience, to touch you in a way no one else has
that's what gets him off for sure
twojar
100% is into breeding, and definitely barebacking
the idea of fucking you completely raw (pending your health checks. he's completely clean and fine, but you on the other hand... he needs the documents)
that's what he's most into, especially if he can incorporate some other kinks into the foreplay or actual sex
and then have the grand finale be painting your insides with his cum, letting you feel the warmth of him
but it has to end with you under him, whichever position you prefer the most he's not fussy
with his cock buried deep inside of you
cumming inside of you and holding himself there, keeping you pinned to him
thrusting a couple more times for good measure so he can be sure he's pumped his seed as deep as it can go
and holding you afterwards, telling you how good you took him
his perfect little breeding stock, his sweet little cumdump
filled up and ready to bear the fruits of his labour
btaa
there is no doubt in my mind that every waking minute that he isn't spending on schemes or building his little gadgets
is spent playing fantasy roleplay games, of any kind, on any platform, alone or in groups
he's a huge nerd! it's one of those things that he'll never outlive, once a big dweeb, always a big dweeb
so a big thing for him is roleplay, and specifically, roleplay where he can involve some monster fucking
he can either play the hero, slaying the beast and then saving the girl, who promptly rewards him with herself to use
or being the hero who sets out to defeat the creature and instead ends up fucking it
or let him be the monster and he'll show you how monstrous he could really be
as long as it involves preparation, dramatic reactions, practice and rehearsing, preferably a script with some room for improv
and, of course, the most extravagant and detailed costumes (accurate to the scenario or time period, obviously)
then he will be a very happy, and satisfied, boy
zero year
i haven't really talked about this but it's a huge one for me personally with him
but i think he's a big fan of free use obviously like he just screams it
loves nothing more than a sort of semi-permanent situation where you spend days completely naked and at his mercy
and add a bit of roleplay into it, maybe you're his live-in housekeeper
cleaning for him, cooking for him, washing him, feeding him
and whenever he feels like it, he can stick his dick in you
but you can't react to him unless he gives you permission
you gotta stand there, kneel there, sit there, lay there while he fucks you without making any sounds
and comitting to whatever task you were in the middle of when he decided to start going at you
i just think it would absolutely send him to the moon to know that when you're walking around naked, bending over in front of him
hanging on his every word and obeying his every command
he could also just decide to press his cock inside of you nonchalantly
unburied
he's literally devoutly into cuckoldery, but he's the bull
imagine watching your partner get railed by some ineffectual dweeb with a penchant for riddles
knowing that he's giving it to them with all he's got, making them scream in pleasure and shout out his name
making eye contact with him at some point
and having him wink at you? stick his tongue out? give you some finger guns?
all with the most smug, self-satisfied grin you've ever seen on a human being
and then to top it off, he's calling out sex-themed riddles?
and laughing at you when you don't get them right?
that's not something you can come back from
that changes someone, on several deep levels
and truthfully, that's the part that he likes the most
the emotional scarring on your ego, and the little stroke his gets
knowing he's so annoying that he's unforgettable, which would be the biggest crime to him
btas
i have these ideas about him that always revolve around something artsy or classy
and while i think he would be into some dorky roleplay (he's definitely pretending to be a minotaur, sorry)
i do, selfishly i suppose, think that he would be into body worshipping
specifically in the form of erotic photography
he'd be keen to take pictures of you, in poses, costumes, scenarios, roleplays
directing you, encouraging you, watching you loosen up and let yourself go
whatever you were comfortable with, that's key here
and he'd cherish seeing your face afterwards when he showed you the final products
knowing he'd captured everything about you that he loves and finds attractive
pictures that he'll keep if you want, or destroy
it doesn't matter to him in the end really
he takes them because he thinks of you as his muse, the act of photographing you, of being allowed the vulnerability
to create with you in mind
that's what he finds most erotic and exciting and ultimately, an expression of his love and adoration for you
young justice
if you managed to get him to find the courage to admit to it, you'd learn his favourite thing is uh...
well... just because it plays into his... awkwardness, and shyness, and inexperience...
just... it makes sense that he has a virginity kink
but interestingly, it goes both ways
while he's so keen to have you show him the moves, and pretend to be inducting him into your little black book
teaching him how to touch you or how to move his hips
he's equally interested in switching the roles up a bit
it's a challenge for him, sure, but he's the riddler! there's no challenge he can't live up to
even if that means weeks of practice and lessons with an acting coach to get past the initial nerves
it would all be worth it to pretend that he was confident, dominant, and knew what he was doing
that and the satisfaction of taking something from you, something important
the honour in knowing he's your first (or at least pretending)
and the lasting impression he might have on you for that
that's the kind of idea that has him rutting into you like a fuckin beast
#i spent so fuckin long on this so please for the love of god#finnie writes#riddler x reader#riddler x you#riddler headcanon#ridler scenario#gotham riddler#arkham riddler#young justice riddler#dano riddler#zero year riddler#batman unburied riddler#bu riddler#telltale riddler#twojar riddler#riddler#the riddler#btaa riddler#btas riddler
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thinking of perv!bf james who begs you to let him take dirty polaroids of you for when you’re apart. cause how else is he meant to get off without an image of his cum on your pretty tits or you choking on his cock? definitely keeps them in his wallet for easy access too
perfect timing, i just came back from work and all i could think about as i was making people’s drinks was perv ! james…
i am positively going insane at the thought of this. i referenced james asking for photos of you in my james bf headcanons, but i totally forgot to mention all the nudes he would beg for during summer vacation.（；＿；）♡
dating you has gotten him sex addicted and he can only spend so long merely imagining your face and body :( he has such a tough time cumming without you and he hates not having you there or being forced to resort to masturbating because it only further reminds him of his loneliness.
but, the photo-system you guys developed assures him that he’s the only one that gets to have personalized photos of you in his hands that are attached along with every love letter you send him. it also eases his loneliness and makes spending time apart easier for the both of you.
right before school ends, you suggest taking photos of the two of you for when the summer holiday begins and you both are separated by the barrier that is vacations and dependent families.
james practically loses his mind at the thought of this and he makes it his mission to take photos of you from his favourite angles and sights: taking you from behind (he begs you to turn your face to look at him so that it appears in the photo), your cum-covered face and tits, your legs spread with cum dripping out of your abused cunt, you choking on his cock, and your naked, spent body sprawled across his bed, fucked out after a particularly rough session.
some photos are downright filthy (every photo with the cum) which are the ones that he jerks off to the most, whereas others are taken with an artistic eye, aesthetically pleasing enough for him to put in his wallet or on the corner of his bedroom mirror.
the photo of you in his wallet would be something pretty and taken with purpose. it would either be your cum covered, smiling face (so that anyone who takes a glance at his wallet would assume it’s simply an innocent photo of his girlfriend), or, as we know, james loves the risk, a photo of your bruised and bitten tits, littered with hickeys and love bites.
god, when james finally reaches home from hogwarts, he immediately locks himself in his room to pull out the envelope of polaroids he’s taken over the year, eagerly searching through the photos he had taken of you. james is such a little pervert that his cock was already beginning to throb at the mere thought of jerking off to those photos of you.
even though you knew that he had these photos intended for his own personal, depraved purposes, something about pulling out his cock out from his slacks and slowly stroking himself to your pretty, candid, unknowing face—occasionally slapping his cock gently on the laminated paper—was so filthy and lewd to him.
of course, the picture deal has to be mutual and he’s more than happy to send you nude photos of him. one of the photos would be his hard, leaking cock tributing to the cum-covered photo of you smiling. looking at the photo and realizing how creepy and perverted it comes across only made the ache in his cock worse. he’d graze his length against his pillow, groaning to himself, making a silent prayer that all of this is enough to relieve the constant need in him and his craving for your cunt.
‘’m so fuckin’ sick,’ he’d sigh, grinning wolfishly.
i also have a sick feeling that not only james, but the rest of the marauders favourite photos to jerk themselves off to are the innocent ones in which you’re smiling happily into the camera, showing off your pretty sundress. of course, nothing beats the lewd photos of you, but they find themselves cumming harder at the unsuspecting photos, imagining your cute, smiling face in front of them, eagerly waiting to be covered and marked by their cum. something about tainting and subsequently corrupting the innocence and purity that the casual photos reveal drives them mad.
‘gonna fuckin’ ruin you the next time i see you—fuck,’
#james potter x y/n#james potter hc#james potter headcanon#james potter imagine#james potter x reader#james potter blurb#james potter smut#james potter x you#james potter fluff#james potter#harry potter smut#harry potter x reader#harry potter imagine#harry potter x y/n#harry potter x you#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter blurb#harry potter fluff#harry potter fic#harry potter#james potter fanfiction
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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲
pairing: dealer!rafe x fem!pogue!reader
summary: ❝i got you where i want you, you’re deader than ever, and falling for forever.❞ — a deal gone wrong leads to you and rafe being stuck in the same room together.
warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity (kinda), playful banter, bickering, mild slut shaming, mentions of drugs, dealing of drugs, mentions of violence, dirty talk, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation, baby trapping threats, finger sucking, slight degradation, slapping, cream pie
word count: 2.7k
a/n: series masterlist
“i need the both of you to just calm down, alright?” barry stepped between you and rafe, both of you glaring at each other with a dangerous glint in your eyes. “if he’s in, then i’m out. i’m not gonna work with a fucking kook.” you spat, shoving barry’s hand away. “yeah? well i don’t wanna work with you either, pogue.” rafe shot back. “y’all don’t have a choice a’ight? i can’t go anywhere with this fuckin’ monitor on my ankle, so i need you two to do this deal for me. i’ll double the pay for the inconvenience.” barry cursed under his breath, plopping down on the couch.
rafe gave you a once over, his eyes lingering on your exposed cleavage. “where’d you even find this girl, barry? she looks like a walking felony.” you didn’t miss the way rafe licked his lips before taking a seat. you scoffed, fixing your top. “please, you want to talk about what i’m wearing? what about that collar? what are you, nine?” barry shook his heaad. “yeah, i’m nine in my pants, babe. wanna find out?” rafe leaned back in his chair, chewing on his gum as he looked up at you. “aw, you wish.” you blew him a kiss, rolling your eyes when he blew you one back.
“alright, listen. y’all are gonna meet up with this guy on the south side. let him give you the money first, and then you give him the blow. standard shit.” barry shrugged, handing you the bag with the stuff. “rafe, i already sent you the meeting place, so just come back as soon as you can.” you pulled your mini skirt down as you walked past him, his eyes burning into your skin. “this guy.. is he dangerous?” you turned around, rafe already on your tail. “not really, he knows me, you should be fine.” rafe shooed you out the door, his fingertips skimming your lower back. “watch your hands, asshole.” he laughed, watching your hips sway as you walked to his truck.
“it’s a shame you’re such a bitch, you’re pretty hot.” he started driving away from barry’s trailer. “and you’re not.” you tucked the bag in your side, checking your lip gloss in the mirror. rafe would never admit it out loud, but he loved your snappy attitude. all the girls he encountered were too nice, and too willing to let him do whatever he wanted. he liked a challenge, and you didn’t fail to give him that. “just so you know, i’m doing all the talking when we get there.” you two spent the rest of the ride making smart remarks to one another until finally, the house came into view.
“you stay here, i’ll be right back.” he reached over, eyes flickering down to your lips before grabbing the bag. you watched him walk inside, salivating at the sight of his muscles moving under his shirt. time moved fast, and before you knew it, rafe had already been gone for twenty minutes. “where is he?” you muttered to yourself, glancing at the front door. you don’t know why but you had an awful feeling about this. cursing under your breath, you did the last thing anyone should do, and got off the truck.
making your way up the steps to the front door, you hesitantly knocked, waiting anxiously for someone to answer. sure enough, a guy wearing all black opened the door, two more men behind him. “hi, um- i’m a friend of barry’s, and someone else came in here a while ago, i was wondering if he’s almost done, with the deal i mean.” the guy gave you a once over. “is he your boyfriend or somethin’?” you shook your head immediately.
“god, no! i have somewhere to be and he’s taking long, i just need him to come back already.” you hid your phone in the waistband of your skirt as you stepped in, the sound of the door locking making you turn around. there was no sign of rafe anywhere, and your skin was starting to crawl with the way the whole room stared you down. “you know what.. i’ll just go wait for him the way i was- ow!” you yelped when you felt someone pick you up, their arms practically digging in your ribcage as they dragged you down a dark hallway.
rafe heard you screaming, shooting up from the bed as he fought to open the door. “you’re hurting me!” you cried, whimpering when he threw you into the same room that rafe was in. “you didn’t have to manhandle her, asshole!” he shouted, helping you up from the floor. once you gained your balance, you pushed him away. “you don’t need to do that.” a small flash of hurt passed over rafe’s face as he took a few steps back. “why the fuck did you get off the truck?” he started pacing back and forth, holding his head in his hands.
“you were taking forever, i just wanted to see if you were okay! oh my god, is that a crime?” you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “you push me away when i’m checking on you, but you enter a stranger’s house to make sure i’m alright? how does that work?” he laughed bitterly, a small gasp leaving your lips when you spotted blood on his knuckles. “who knows what they’re gonna do to us now..” he cursed under his breath, making your eyebrows knit in confusion. “what are you talking about?” you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.
“barry must’ve given us the wrong bag. they weighed everything after they gave me the money, and they were two kilos short. ‘now they think i’m trying to run a play on them.” he sat down. “after they kicked my ass i told them i came alone and they just put me in here.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated groan emitting from his throat. you stayed silent for a moment. “why did you tell them you were by yourself?” you finally asked. “so that they wouldn’t look in the truck and take you next, but it looks like you saved them the work and did it yourself.” he looked over at you, fully expecting you to shoot back with something sarcastic, but instead he was met with your teary eyes.
“i figured you’d just leave with the truck and tell barry something was up.” you glared at him. “you thought i would just leave you here? i may be a bitch, rafe, but i’m not heartless.” he nodded. “yeah i’m gathering that.” you sniffled, suddenly remembering that you were crying in front of this man. “i’m gonna get us out of here, alright?” you wiped your cheeks, getting up to check the windows. “they’re bolted shut, i already tried.” you groaned, plopping back down on the bed with a sigh. “well i guess it’s a good thing i brought my phone.” you took out the device, tapping on barry’s contact.
rafe looked at you in disbelief, taking the phone from your hands as he pressed it against his ear. “fuck, he’s not answering.” he whispered, calling him once more. “give me it!” you grabbed it, making rafe roll his eyes. “hello?” barry spoke into the receiver. “hey, dickhead, you shorted us and now we’re in deep shit.” rafe shushed you, his eyes widening as the lock on the door started rattling. “you better get us out of this!” you hung up, stuffing the phone in your pocket at the same time one of the guys walked in.
“what are you two huddled up in the corner for?” he arched a brow. rafe cleared his throat. “what? i can’t talk to my girl?” you blinked, flashing the man in black an awkward smile. “look, i don’t care what you do, boss man is trying to figure out a way to get the rest of what he paid for. your guy isn’t the easiest person to get ahold of.” you eyed the gun in the waistband of his belt. “yeah, well you tell ‘boss man’ that we’re just delivering, we don’t have anything to do with the missing blow.” he waved you off, locking the door behind him. rafe’s shoulders fell in relief. “you need to watch that mouth of yours.” rafe grabbed you, backing you up into the wall.
“or what?” he clenched his jaw, the last band of patience he had left, snapping. without warning, he dragged you over to the bed, climbing on top of you as you gazed up at him. “alright, you know what? let’s settle this shit right now. bickering with you was fun the first ten minutes, now it’s just pissing me off. what’s your problem?” the rough material of his jeans scratched against your skin. “one minute you’re insulting me, and then you’re getting down to check on me in the middle of a deal, the next. sounds like you’re having trouble picking a side.” he laughed. “i’m the one having trouble picking a side? i can’t tell if you hate me most of the time or if you want to fuck me.” it was your turn to laugh.
he studied you, letting his eyes wander to where your tits practically spilled out of your top. rafe would be lying if he said he didn’t regularly think of having his way with you, sometimes wishing he could stuff his cock in your mouth to shut you up. “and what if i do?” he ran a hand down your arm, watching as your nipples hardened through your blouse. “you hate me? i hate you too,” you shivered, taking your top off, revealing your bare chest to him, “you want to fuck me? i want to fuck you too.” rafe cursed, the sight of you underneath him, topless and pretty, forever ingrained into his brain.
“i don’t think i should give you what you want.” he cupped your tits, squeezing as hard as he can before rolling your nipples between his fingers. you hissed at the pain, a smile forming on your lips as you palmed him through his pants. “it looks like you want me more than i want you,” you giggled, eyeing the erection in his pants. “how pathetic.” rafe wanted nothing more than to fuck you until you were a crying mess for him, and he wasn’t going to leave from here until that happened. without another word, he yanked you up, flipping you over on your tummy as he pulled your skirt and underwear down in one swift motion.
you gasped, letting out a yelp when his hand came down and smacked your ass. he kicked your legs apart, wasting no time in running his fingers between your folds. he gritted his teeth at the sight. you were glistening with how wet you were. he groaned, pulling a handful of your hair, forcing you to look at his digits before bringing them to your lips. “you’ve been soaked all fucking day,” he watched as you sucked on his fingers, moaning at the taste of yourself, “how pathetic.” rafe used your words against you as he forced your head into the sheets. you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together as you heard the clink of his belt, the heavy leather snapping against the skin of your thigh.
“fuck,” you whimpered. rafe rubbed the now reddening skin, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “someone can walk in here at any moment, so i’d suggest you shut the fuck up.” his jeans pooled at his ankles as he lifted your hips in the air, using one hand to arch your back, and the other to line himself up with your entrance. you had to cover your mouth in order to muffle the moans falling from your lips as the head of rafe’s cock stroked your clit. “fuck, ‘been wanting to do this for a long time.” with a small groan, rafe pushed himself inside of you, your velvety walls fluttering around the welcomed intrusion.
“holy shit.” his head rolled to the side, his eyebrows knitting in pleasure. “you feel so fucking good.” he wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling the makeshift ponytail as he thrusted into you. your mouth fell open in a silent moan, a small cry emitting from your mouth. “don’t want you to stop.” you whined, looking back at rafe with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. one look at your face made him curse under his breath, your eyes sparkling under the soft light of the room. “you’re so fucking pretty, baby.” he cupped your cheeks, taking your lips in a searing kiss.
your eyes fluttered shut as rafe pushed your head down once more. “m’gonna make you take every inch of this fuckin’ cock.” you pulled away momentarily, glancing up at him through your eyelashes. “you’re not in all the way?” rafe smiled, shaking his head. “i’m only at about half.” as if on cue, rafe’s hand came up to cover your mouth, muffling your scream when he fully pushed himself into you. the feeling of his cock filling you up to the hilt was unlike anything you ever felt before. rafe was doing everything he could to contain himself. embarrassingly enough for him, he felt like he was well on his way to cumming inside you.
he looked down, absolutely mesmerized by the way your pussy took him with ease. “oh my, fuck!” you reached back, holding onto his wrist as your hips started to meet his thrusts. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, both of you not caring who heard anymore. rafe grunted, pulling out as he flipped you over on your back. “i wanna see your face.” he breathed, his fingers attacking your clit. your nails raked down his chest, stars exploding from behind your irises. rafe felt his balls tighten as he neared his climax. “are you on the pill?” he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him.
you blinked slowly, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment. “no..” you blinked slowly, a whimper falling from your lips as rafe lightly slapped your cheek. “no?” his jaw clenched, the revelation somehow turning him on even more. “i could baby trap you right now, ‘make you stay inside the house the way you’re supposed to,” your eyes rolled back as your thighs started trembling around his waist. rafe’s hips stuttered once he felt you clenching around him. “you’d want that, wouldn’t you? ‘wanna be taken care of?” you nodded, your orgasm hitting at the same time rafe filled you up with his load. he pulled you into his chest, keeping you still as you writhed beneath him.
“rafe!” you cried, tears threatening to spill at the overstimulation. “i know,” he kissed the crown of your head, “fuckin’ hell, i know.” he groaned, slowly coming to a stop. you were still dazed, your fingers running across his buzzed head as you reveled in the feeling of his weight on top of you. the two of you laid in silence, rafe’s chin resting in the crook of your neck. “are you okay?” he pressed a kiss against your skin, gazing down at you in all your sex afterglow.
you smiled shyly, making him stroke the side of your face. “we should give ‘not hating each other’ a try.” rafe helped you get dressed, putting his own clothes on soon after. “yeah, we should. you kinda cummed inside me, so..” he nodded, his lips forming a straight line. “yeah, i did. are you freaked out by that? ‘cause i’m not.” you laughed at how nonchalant he was at the whole thing. “i guess if you’re not, then i’m not.” you shrugged. he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. “you’re a little misogynistic when you’re horny.” he hummed. “yeah? well, you came right after i said you belong in the house.” just as you were about to shoot back with something, the door slammed open.
“your guy came through with the stuff, both of you freaks could leave now.”
#‧₊˚✩彡 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks smut#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe concepts#rafe edit#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#drew starkey#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#dealer!rafe
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after midnight | carmen berzatto x reader
summary: chicago is expensive, okay? so you pick up a job outside of the restaurant which just so happens to involve your camera. everything's fine until richie stumbles upon the website and shares it with camry.
contents: perv!carmy, male & female masturbation, sex toys, dirty talk, cam sex, slight dub-con kinda if you look for it. carmy’s honestly a wreck. mentions of unprotected sex, choking, oral sex, overstimulation. please note!! no formal intercourse takes place yet but it's cuming coming but ya girl wants a slow burn
reader description: she/her pronouns, there is semi a hair scene but i use no real descriptors so still vague!
word count: basically 3.9k
author notes: first fic in a year baby and boy did i lose the plot!! filth!! also i sure love saying fuck in this so enjoy that
part two
��–————————–
Richie’s voice is annoying. It echos, ricochets off the walls, and can’t be contained by even the highest quality of sound proofing. Which is why, at 8 in the morning, Carmen’s already considering having to take Excedrin as Richie bursts through the doors.
“Carmy, Cousin, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what I found last night.” He’s out of breath after running in, fumbling around with his phone in a rush to pull something up. He’d spent all night contemplating if he texted Carmen or waited to show him in person. Ultimately the urge to see his reaction won but that didn’t stop Richie from waking up before his alarm out of excitement. “Listen, we’re both grown ass men so I’m gonna say it -“ he’s glancing around to make sure they’re alone, “- So I’m laying there and jerkin’ my shit, right?”
Carmen’s wincing, pinching the bridge of his nose and contemplating every decision that brought him back to Chicago.
“Dude, fuck off. I don’t wanna hear -“ Richie tsks, cutting him off.
“Nah, shut the fuck up because you wanna hear this. In fact, you’re gonna wanna fall to your knees and kiss my shoes and praise my ass as a thank you for finding this.”
He’s holding up his phone, an iPhone 8 he refuses to upgrade, and illuminated on the screen is a video of you. You, on your knees, in lingerie. You, with your fingers dragging down your chest, across the lace that covers your breasts. Your head falls back as you run your thumbs across your nipples. A sound so angelic coming from your lips that Carmen starts to understand why people spend so much time at Church. He’s convinced you’re hand carved by God, or Buddha, or whatever might be up there.
Carmy’s instantly feeling a rush of heat across his chest and his cheeks as he takes the sight of you in. It feels wrong but at the same time the coiling in his stomach feels so good he can’t look away quite yet. “Why the…” He’s cut off by a whine coming from Richie’s speaker as you keep teasing yourself. His brain is frying for a second as he tries to focus on finishing his sentence. “How the hell did you find this?”
“Listen, sometimes I get bored on the same ole sites, okay? Clicked an ad to see who was live and ended up here. Now I stopped watching, obviously, out of respect but this? I’ve known you long enough to know when you gotta thing for someone and you’re not gonna act on it. Also, I caught you staring at her ass as she filled the deep freeze the other night. Kinda gave it away. So this is the way you can still get some pussy while being a fuckin’ pussy.” Richie’s punching the air, clearly proud of himself.
Carmy’s smacking him upside the head, his body now torn between lust and annoyance. “Watch your mouth, alright? That is so fucked, Richie. Put that shit anyway and I better not see you tell a single other person this exists.”
And yeah, he took note of your screen name before he walked away. Don’t judge him.
———★–————————–
Look - There have been a lot of times in his life where Carmen hasn’t been proud of himself. But settling back into bed, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down to rest under his balls? Yeah, he’s not proud to say the least. After seeing even just the glimpse of you this morning though it’s been all he could think about. The. Whole. Fucking. Day. He watched out of the corner of his eye while you bent over the line to scrub down the wall behind your station tonight. Burning to memory the way your ass just slightly jiggled from the aggressive motion of wiping down the surface. A soft grunt coming from you as you reach for something just a little too high. He finally snapped out of it when the smell of the chemicals he sprayed down on his own surface got a little too strong and refocused.
He wasn’t proud when he ran to the restroom and contemplated just jacking off over the toilet to get some relief. You were clouding his brain, only the rush of the evening giving him some small relief.
You seemed vocal in the small clip he saw. He’s wondering if you would have asked him to cum for you. Would you think it’s a waste that he’s cumming down the drain instead of covering your ass with it? Filling your mouth and making you swallow every drop around him? Or, Jesus Christ, would you wrap your legs around his waist and beg him not to pull out?
So yeah. Carmy’s had quite the fucking day to say the least.
He’s finally home and running straight to bed. His stuff dropped in a heap by the front door and was easily forgotten. Throwing himself back onto the mattress after ripping off his shirt and his pants. Left just groaning into the empty room, his cock twitching at the thought of you. Your page has been sitting on an Incognito tab all day and it’s finally, finally being loaded up. This feels like an invasion of privacy in a way but Carmen can’t quite think logically with how heavy his balls feel and how painfully hard he is. There’s not much time to spare so he clicks the first video you’ve uploaded that he can.
And there you are.
Sitting in the middle of a big bed and rubbing your hands along your thighs, smiling at the camera. His heart is twitching, cock is twitching, everything is fucking twitching. And you’re just sitting there, licking your lips and sliding your hands under the thin material of some weird lace one piece he wants to rip off.
“Hi there, Pretty Boy.” Your voice is music to his ears and Carmy can’t take it any longer. His fist is wrapping around his cock, a broken moan filling the room as he finally gets some relief. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home all day.”
Sue him, but he’s skipping ahead a little. There’s not much time until he cums and he needs to see you. All of you. He’s gripping his phone with one hand, bringing the other that’s around his cock up to his mouth to spit in. His thumb is haphazardly trying to keep the phone balanced while scrubbing through the video until he thinks he’s at a good spot. You’re laid back now, thighs spread for the camera and pussy on display. Carmen’s muttering to himself about how gorgeous you are, longing to tell you in person. You’re holding this royal blue dildo in your hands that’s suddenly his biggest enemy. He deserves to be there, not this stupid, useless chuck of silicone. There’s a whimper from the speaker as you take the toy and slide it along yourself, tapping it twice against your clit. “Fuck, I need you.”
Fuckin’ hell does he needs you too.
His fist is clamped around his dick once again, fucking his hips up into the the slick, tight grip. You’re still teasing yourself by sticking just the head of the dildo in before gasping and pulling it back out. “Please, Baby. I need you so bad, need to come for you.” His brain is breaking. An animalistic urge taking over to fuck you until you can’t move, can’t think, just a blubbering mess begging him for more. Without warning you push the dildo all the way in, throwing your head back with a pleasured scream.
Carmy gasps, hips sputtering and losing their rhythm as he watches you fuck yourself. He’s stroking himself at the same pace you’re moving the dildo, imaging it’s you he’s fucking into. Picturing you laid under him, your breasts covered in hickies because he hates the idea of these… Perverts watching you get off. He wants to mark you, claim you as his. His balls are tightening and he can’t think of the last time he came this quick. It’s almost embarrassing - What are you doing to him?
Your free hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth, lewdly sucking them for the camera. The sucking noise now accompanying the wet, addictive sounds of your pussy being fucked. Carmen whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, and twists his wrist over his cock to get a little more friction. Your voice hits him once again as you slide your wet fingers out of your mouth and down your throat. “Oh fuck I’m so close. So, so close. Are you close, Baby? Want you to come with me.” You’re lightly choking yourself, a whining mess.
Carmy’s aware he’s talking to an empty room but he can’t stop himself. “Fuck, oh fuck. Gonna come for you.” And his stomach coils, hips sputter, the phone falling to the bed as he has to let go of it as his orgasm washes over him. He’s slack jaw, warm cum landing on his chest and the sounds of you finishing at the same time ringing out from his phone.
Oh he’s so fucked.
————–——★–————
Carmy slept well for once in his life. His orgasm lulling his body to sleep, dreams filled of you. How beautiful you look sucking his cock. The way you must sound while he eats you out. And he takes his time in his dream. Tongue dragging between your folds as his rough hands hold your hips in place. You’re powerless, made to lay back and let him eat you out for his own pleasure. Tongue circling around your clit but he waits until you’re close to tears to stop teasing. He’d praise you. “Look how fucking wet you are, Princess. You’re already getting the bed wet, aren’t you? Gonna have to lick you for hours to get you all cleaned up. Can you say please, huh? Ask me to suck on your clit, Baby. You know you need it.”
He woke up hard and overstimulated, rolling over onto his stomach and pathetically dragging his hips against the warm bed to get some much needed friction along his cock. Carmy’s telling himself how pathetic this is and forcing himself to push off the bed and get into the shower before he’s late.
Yes, he jacked off in the shower before work.
He had to.
Carmy can’t decide if it’s heaven or hell when he walks in to see you standing in the kitchen.
You’re on your tiptoes, balancing haphazardly as you’re reaching up to change the light. There’s a wobbly step stool under you. Everyone keeps saying it needs to be replaced but it continues to live on. Your face is scrunching up in concentration. Carmy’s chuckling at the sight and ignoring the way he feels his balls tug at the sight of you. “What’re you doing there, Chef?”
You huff in annoyance, finally untwisting the light cover from the ceiling. “Damn light went out right as I started veggie prep. Hate to be a bother but will you come spot me while I’m up on this thing? I’ve seen Fak bust his ass one too many times to trust it.”
Carmy can’t verbally respond at first, instead stalking over to stand next to you. His hand comes up to cup the back of your knee and he’s lying to himself saying it’s for your own safety. To keep you balanced. “Yea well something tells me you’re less clumsy than Fak. I’ve seen that guy fall over while just standing still.”
And you laugh.
You laugh. At him. At his joke. He, Carmen Berzatto, made you laugh. The sound filling his ears and now his damn heart and balls are both reacting to you and what the hell is he supposed to do with all these emotions.
“Don’t distract me up here, Chef.” He doesn’t mind taking commands from you. Silently reaching up to hold the light fixture you’re passing him as you change gears to switch out the lightbulbs now.
And maybe his eyes are wandering around the kitchen to see who else might catch a glimpse of you two together. Everyone who’s in so far is honed in on their prep task and Carmy thanks God that Richie hasn’t shown up yet today.
He’s become quite faithful since he started falling for you it seems.
It happens, by chance, that you feel a little unsteady and Carmen tightens his grip on the back of your leg. Fingers digging into your soft skin. He’s looking down at the stool to make sure it’s level before looking up to take in the sight that is his hand around your leg.
And he stops looking there.
Okay fine that’s a fucking lie - he’s looking up. Eyes trailing up your thighs, following along the curve of your ass. When you have to lean forward just slightly to twist in the light cover he’s convinced he can see the outline of your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. He’s contemplating his options - If he could, would he lean in and lick over the outline? His warm mouth teasing you through your leggings. Through your underwear. Are you wearing underwear? He’s torn between picturing you with or without them.
Or would he slide his hand up your leg, palming your thigh as he goes. Cupping over you and dragging his middle finger across the shape of you. Memorizing the feeling. Would you whine? Grind down against his hand? He doesn’t think you’d shoo his touch away.
God he just knows you’re a needy little thing.
He wonders what it would feel like for you to lick your own wetness from his jaw after he’s decided he’s done savoring you. To taste you on your own tongue when he kissed you after. You’d look so pretty with his cum dripping down your lips too. All fucked out and exhausted and full of bliss.
“Okay, I think I got it fixed, Carmy.” God, he’s so fucked for thinking of you like this as you’re innocently changing the light. Just trying to improve the kitchen and he’s thinking about ruining you. He was so caught up in daydreaming that he didn’t even feel you take the light cover back out of his hand and screw it into place again.
You’re beaming down at him, using his shoulders as arm rests as you bounce down from the stepping stool. His hand grazes your ass - A total accident. He swears it. You reach behind him to sit the screwdriver down, your chest firmly against his. Nothing thinking anything of the personal space violation as you’re used to it from so many slammed nights in the kitchen.
“Thank you for helping me. Sorry it was basically just five minutes of my ass in your face.” Carmy chokes.
His cheeks are hot.
Fuck is he blushing?
He’s sputtering out of his words. “It uh, it wasn’t in my face. Not that I looked, y’know. Just uh… Just - just trying to say that I’m happy to help.” He sounds like an idiot
You’re cocking an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Holy shit, Carmy.” You pat your hands against his chest, not knowing your touch was like fire on his skin. He grabs the screwdriver and makes a beeline to the office to put it away for you.
Sure he grabbed a rag on the way. No it’s not for him to jack off into while he thinks of you.
Okay fine, it is.
“Fuck me.” The only thing Carmy can risk trying to say as the door shuts heavy behind him and his pants hit the ground.
———————–★–———
Carmen doesn’t avoid you now but he certainly makes it hard to get close to you. He’s too distracted when you’re around. Maybe there’s a bit of guilt mixed in too at his new night routine. Leave the restaurant, load your page, and wait to see what happens. New videos? New pictures? You were wormed into the back of his brain and it had to stop.
So your station got moved further down rotation. You’re at the end of the line on the left, he’s at the start on the right. It helps clear his mind, lets him hone in on perfecting what goes to the floor.
He’s able to move quickly, shifts blowing by as the restaurant’s rush takes all his attention. The clock clicks down two minutes till close, everyone working in silence to get the place flipped and go home. He’s wrapping up with Syd, helping her make a few adjustments to expo before grabbing a dead plate off of the end of the line and heading to the office with his food and a cup of water in hand. He needs a mental minute, a bite of food, and to let his thoughts all catch up.
The door’s already cracked and he’s halfway through the entry way when he registers you. Sitting there. At his desk. Your legs are crossed, a cool damp towel resting over your eyes. He wants to turn on his heel and retreat but decides that he can’t treat you any differently just because he’s developed some silly little crush. Running away would be treating you different.
“You good, Chef?”
To which you groan. Different from the ones he’s used to - This one is guttural, pained. You press your hands flat against the rag and will the cool temperature to help the pressure in your head. “Killer migraine, that’s all. Shit was moving so fast tonight and I wacked the back of my head on something in the walk in. Sorry for being in here, Carm. Just uh, needed a second.” You should push up out of the chair, show your respect. But right now you’re half convinced that standing up would be detrimental so for now you’re cemented to the seat.
“Heard.” Carmen nods to himself, sitting down the plate before opening up the desk drawer as quietly as possible. Your knee is pressing into the side of his thigh, grounding and warm. He fishes out a bottle of medicine, shaking out two pills. “Hold out your hand.”
You take a second to brace yourself for movement, sitting up and moving the towel off your eyes. Letting it pile up into a clump on the desk besides you. There’s no way around it - You look pitiful. Pouting up at Carmen as he hands over two pills and his cup out water. You take the pills diligently, taking a few gulps and letting your eyes fall back closed as you will them to kick in instantly. “Can I ask a favor?”
“Anything, Chef.”
Slowly, so not to shake yourself up, you turn the chair until your back is to Carmen. “Will you see if I gotta bump back there? Kinda terrified I gave myself a concussion but I don’t wanna believe it was that hard.”
He snickering, a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth as he steps closer. “Well you’d absolutely fuck me if you needed to file workmen’s comp so I’m gonna need you to be fine, ‘kay? Way too much fuckin’ paperwork to do on a Friday night.” You start to laugh but it’s quickly cut off into a small groan of appreciation as you feel warm, rough hands clasp either side of your shoulders.
Carmen works his way up your neck and catches himself holding his breath as his fingers brush along your scalp. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, all under the pretense of taking care of his employee. That’s all. “Think we’re both in the clear. You feeling alright besides the headache? Need me to hold up some fingers for ya to guess? Haven’t managed to cut any off so we’ve got all ten to work with.” He’s got you laughing again while rough fingers work their way back down to your neck. The feeling of the vibration of your laughter against his hands sending chills down his back.
Wordlessly Carmen gets to work rubbing your shoulders. Tender, deep. Years of practice rolling out dough and desserts and tenderizing meat coming into play as he continues to knead away at your tense body. You let out an appreciative moan and Carmen has to start thinking of something to keep his inevitable hard on from being obvious.
When his hands come up closer to your neck once again he’s hit with flashbacks of the first video he watched. You choking yourself — Is that something you truly liked? If his hand came around to cup your throat, palm resting on one side with his fingertips firmly against the other, and lightly squeezed would you moan? Rub your thighs together in search of some hint of relief?
“Are you always this good with your hands, Chef? Hmm? Can’t imagine you giving Marcus this treatment.” You’re laughing and can practically hear the smirk in Carmen’s voice as he responds. “Yeah - You uh, didn’t know that? I just love you know, rubbing shoulders. It’s my thing. Kick your ass all night and then rub the stress out.”
He’s blanching a little at his reply. Kinda obvious but okay then, Carmen. You reach up, putting your hands atop his with a little smile. “Well thank you for… Rubbing my stress out, Chef.”
Carmen’s red. Head to toe just bright red. “Of course, Chef. Anytime.” He’s entertaining to say the least as you pat his hands before spinning around in his chair. You snag another drink of water, throwing him a wink before moving to exit the office. Your hand runs along his chest, an appreciative gesture, as you head back to the floor.
——————————★–
Late Saturday night Carmen’s so exhausted that he barely has the energy to take his work clothes off. Falling haphazardly onto his old couch, kicking his work boots off one at a time. His eyes are heavy, body aching, and he almost falls asleep before he gets to see you.
But he’s fishing his phone from his pocket, refreshing the all too familiar landing page to see you’re actively live. How you have the energy is beyond him.
You’re standing there trying on clothes that someone must send in and Carmy feels a pang of jealousy. He’s watching through half hooded eyes as you slip in a pair of shorts, turning your behind towards the camera and pulling them up just slightly to put more of your ass on display. You’re chatting away about the material while slowly pulling them down to reveal just this frilly little pair of panties that was sent in as well.
He’s propping the phone up on the armrest of the couch, laying on his side while he watches you chat away. It’s soothing. Almost like an ASMR video.
Carmen’s not sure when he fell asleep - Somewhere in-between you trying on a third outfit and attempting to clean up your bed from all the packaging. He finds you soothing, comforting. He makes a mental note to hunt out some sort of wish list you must have for these items before passing out and, once again, dreaming of you.
#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto smut#so many versions of his name#🤍: the bear#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#♡: carmen berzatto#the bear x reader#the bear smut#the bear#carmy x reader#carmy x you#carmy smut#carmen x reader#carmy berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x you
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Daddy’s babies
pairing: Lumberjack!Henry x shy!mom!reader
summary: Daddy!Henry takes his babies to Disneyland and engages in some soft kissy sex with his baby bun (Dilf!Henry) (softdom!Henry)
likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+
Lumberjack Masterlist, Henry Masterlist
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“P-please daddy, we want to g-go, don’t we lovebugs?” Y/n cooed sitting on the floor of their living, her baby girl Iris nursing soundly on her breast, the soft suckling sounds and baby gurgles filling the room. Henry sitting behind her, his fingers playing with the loose straps of her vest, peeking over at the sight of his baby princess so close to her momma, his baby boy Beau sat on his boppy across from them; clearly milk drunk from his feeding.
Y/n had spent the past few days begging and begging her husband for a trip to Disneyworld, wanting nothing more than to take hundreds of pictures of her tiny tots in their costumes, buying them all sorts of souvenirs and of course the family costumes. Henry would be lying if he said his attention was fully on her words right now, all he could think of was how huge her breasts had grown these past few months from breastfeeding. God almighty it took him an arm and a leg to keep from squeezing them like a stress ball, even being caught by Y/n herself.
“Sugar butt, they won’t even remember goin’ there, Beau over there doesn’t even remember who I am half the time” Henry chuckled looking to meet his wife’s eyes as she huffed and scooted out of his hold, shuffling over to her baby boy who was near enough asleep after being burped. “F-fine then, you don’t care about us” She whimpered giving him those big doe eyes of hers, even turning around her baby Iris, who she had now given a pacifier to. Her cute little mouth bopping up and down as she suckled on the Disney themed dummy, her big eyes she got from her momma staring right at her daddy. Henry swore his heart clenched right when he saw his baby princess looking at him.
“Y’all n’ your damn eyes, fine”
“H-hen look at the baby c-cots they’re old west themed!” Y/n giggled holding baby Iris to her hip whilst Henry carried Beau on his, sliding in the suitcases with his free arm. “Is it everythin’ ya wanted sugar cube?” He hummed finally locking the hotel room, his arm coming around her waist to bring his daughter and wife closer to his warm broad chest.
“W-we love it, it’s so cute and reminds me of our house” Y/n smiled tilting her head up to press a small wet kiss onto her man’s lips, both babies also reaching for each other cutely, they were absolutely inseparable so thankfully the cots were right by each other. Seeing both of their eyes start to lid, their small voices cooing tiredly, it only seemed right that they put their tots down for the night after a long day of driving and gas stops.
“C’mon over ‘ere momma, ya need your sleep n’ so does daddy” Henry whispered tugging on his wife’s belt loop, pulling her against his chest as they looked over their beautiful miracle gems. “Missed you today ya know” Inhaling her soft fresh scent deeply, he slowly waddled them both towards their huge king size saloon themed bed. “Y-you were with me the w-whole day though” Y/n laughed as Henry softly set her on the sheets, already tugging off her denim flares and black polo crop top. His smile widening as he saw all the new stretch marks she had gained, evidence she had carried their family, their baby gems; a proof of their love.
“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter, didn’t have your sweet pussy wrapped around my cock or anythin”
“A-and you still can’t, t-this is a family friendly zone” Y/n scolded shimmying herself up the bed only for her to be dragged down by Henry’s hand on her ankles, her puffy pussy coincidentally coming face to face with his eager lips. “We can worry about the family friendliness tomorrow, right now it’s me n’ my gorgeous wife. Think she misses my kissies no? As long as you’re quite n’ don’t wake up the monsters then it’s okay bun”
Slowly peppering small onto her second set of lips, his tongue coaxed through her folds to taste her sweet self; baby bun’s little gasps and stifled moans reverberating through their bodies. “M’already close H-hen, kissy t-too good” Y/n whined knowing how sensitive she was, both emotionally and physically after the journey of a pregnancy she had. “I know you are sweet pea, go on, give your man his treasure”
Within seconds her body was writhing in his hold, her hand over her mouth to make sure she wasn’t being too loud, Henry’s hands clamped around her waist as he slurped up all of her juices. “Y-your turn?” She breathed out sitting up on her elbows, “No baby bun, we can do that another time, time for you to get some sleep” He smiled crawling up on her to kiss her lips softly, with a twinge of tongue just to hear her hum in pleasure.
“You sure?”
“Hundred, now turn over n’ let me spoon my sugar cube”
Both of them now nude under the covers, Henry’s hands skimmed up over her sides and curves, moving up to cup her breasts strongly; hoping to teasingly coax some of her milk out but he knew she’d have been emptied out just from the twins on the road trip. “You did so good today momma, took care of our gems so well you know that? My precious baby bun such a good woman, my woman”
“I L-love you so much H-henry, you’re such a good daddy to t-the babies”
“I love you too Y/n, swear my life on it”
Throughout the night Henry slowly and gently humped his hardened cock against his sleepy wife, hearing her whine and groan until he finally released all over her bare ass, letting her shift back against him before finally drifting off for the rest of the night.
“a-aren’t you two just f-freaking adorable, m-my little chip a-and lumiere” With the two tots propped up on some pillows, in their chip and lumiere costumes from beauty and the beast, Y/n in her pretty yellow dress as Belle and Henry in a blue suit as the beast. The perfect fairytale family in Henry’s words.
“H-Henry get in beside them, now please” Picking up each 8 month old onto each knee, Henry smiled with his canine smile into the phone, both babies showing their gummy smiles in their tiny costumes like the absolute cuties they were. The perfect mix of Henry and his Y/n. “Ok now go put it on a timer n’ get in here sugar butt”
“mhm comin’” Setting up her phone against the table she ran over and perched herself behind Henry, her arms coming around his neck from behind, her red painted lips planted onto his cheek. “Should we get ‘em into the pram and get goin to fantasyland? Get you your well needed pictures n’ souvenirs” Nodding excitedly they strapped both twins into the two seater pram, their costumes thankfully suited to the hot summer weather, with Henry pushing the pram protectively as Y/n linked her arms with his.
“I-isn’t it just magical? Oh wait! We need to g-get them pictures w-with Mickey Hen” Redirecting the stroller to the queue for Mickey, the couple stood in line in each other’s arms, “you alright ma? You look absolutely gorgeous” Swaying their bodies side to side, Henry felt her giggle and laugh against him, twisting her head to the side to press a sweet kiss to his neck. “Y-you’re only sayin’ that cause i-im dressed like Belle”
“Nah no way, I prefer you naked than in a dress and ya know that baby bun” Chuckling they finally moved to the picture spot, with Iris in Y/n’s arms and Beau in Henry’s, each twin cooing happily with their sun hats on with the white sunscreen making their face look painted.
“Baby bun, I- I have a proposition, you can say no if you want but”
“b-but what?” Y/n asked tilting her bead to the side like a happy little puppy, taking off her costume after the long day, Iris and Beau already tucked into their sleep snuggies and in their respective wooden bassinets.
“This is out of the blue, but my uh my mother’s here, she’s seen somethin’ about us bein’ here and she wants to meet Iris and Beau. Well- actually take them off our hands for a few hours to give us some time”
“W-what like now? I-i’ve only met her a few times a-and that was before I was pregnant”
“I know that’s why I wanted to ask you first, we’re a team baby bun, you say no then thats fine, you tell me what you want sugar” Nuzzling his head against hers he felt her exhale before raising her head, that same soft kind look in her eyes.
“I grew up a-always loving my grandparents, I-i’d hate to rob I-Iris and Beau of that. Your m-mother’s lovely, I-I just wish we saw her more often so she k-knew them more” Y/n explained nodding her head with each word, showing that she completely trusted Henry’s mother, she knew how attentive she was with her other grandchildren and she didn’t doubt her for a second with Iris and Beau. Although this would also mean this would be the first time she would be away from her babies for more than an hour, already feeling the dreaded mother’s guilt.
With it already being 5PM and time for dinner a rhythmic knock sounded throughout the room, the newly awoken babies’ eyes curiously looking around the room, their hands wandering in the air frantically. “It’s her sugar, you ready for me to open the door?” Nodding Y/n stood up, wiping her sweaty palms onto her skirt, watching on as Henry’s mother gleefully walked into the room. A pair of purple mickey ears on her head as she instantly reached for Y/n, bringing her in for a hug and an affectionate kiss to the cheek.
“My beautiful daughter in law, you’ve only gotten more beautiful, how I wonder how my son met got you” Henry scoffed muttering a ‘thanks mom’ watching his mother then turn her attention to the two cuties surrounded by pillows on the bed, the both of them looking at her happily almost as if they could feel the love radiating off their grandmother.
“Oh my word, is this my little ittle Iris and Beau, my two precious grandbabies, they are the carbon copy of you Y/n, thank God nothin' like Henry. With that scowl always on his face" Marianne whispered tickling their little stomachs, quickly taking out the mini mickey ears she had gotten just for them, a pink and blue sequinned set.
“Aww t-thank you, t-though I’m thankful they g-got the cleft chin from H-henry” Y/n laughed seeing Henry pick up Beau and Iris, letting her have her fair share of snuggles of each baby Cavill, the newest additions so far to the family. “Ma are ya sure you’re able to handle these two little monsters, they can be quite a handful but we’ve already packed everythin’ ya need in this baby bag” Buckling them into their stroller, Henry tucked the baby bag into the underneath of the stroller, his mother excitedly clapping and exclaiming how excited she was to spend the next few dinner hours with her grandchildren.
“Henry boy, av’ raised 5 boys I think I can handle two more angels, especially if they’re like Y/n”
“Well most of the time they are, curious little things really, but deprive ‘em of the booby milk and it gets scary” Henry laughed as Y/n scolded him, hugging his mother one last time as she brought the babies to her hotel room, deciding the easiest option was to order in room service since all they had was simple baby foods and milk.
Meanwhile Y/n had a new feeling in her stomach, a feeling of guilt for simply letting her “newborn” babies go despite them edging the ninth month. Her goosebumps wouldn’t let down, her legs shaking as Henry shuffled around the room to prepare a hot warm bath for them both, a well deserved one at that. “Baby bun ya ready to come in n’ join me?” Henry called in from the tall ceiling bathroom, waiting eagerly to watch his nude wife in all her glory.
“a-am coming now” She called seeing her husband engulfed in a multitude of purple and pink bath bubbled, his hand outstretched to help her into the tub. His hand tightly wrapped around her wrist as she sat between his legs, the water sloshing once she sat back against his snug wide chest. “What’s goin up in that pretty mind o’ yours beautiful, you look busied”
“D-Do you think i-it’s bad that I let t-the babies go w-with your mom so easily? I f-feel guilty for being away from them for so l-long”
“what? Is that what you’ve been tinkerin’ about? You’re the best wife n’ mother on the goddamn planet, the way you pour your love and affection into everythin’ you do, no one could ask anything more from you. You’re absolutely perfect baby bun, my little sugar cube is the best” Henry whispered against her ear, his voice growling towards the end as his lips attached to her neck and shoulders, kissing it passionately while her head rolled back onto his shoulder. His strong burly arms wrapped around her midsection, one of his hands sneaking up to circle her nipples with his finger, eyes staring as he watched them harden.
“Y-you really think so?” Bun replied looking up at him, her doubting thoughts quickly dissolving once he pecked her nose adorably, each of her breasts in one of his hands. “I know so, now sit your pretty little self back n’ let daddy take care of everythin’ alright momma?”
Settling herself back comfortably basking in his radiating body heat, his hands reaching under the water to touch her sensitive clit, his soft hoarse voice hushing her anytime she let out anything louder than a squeal.
“This ok baby?”
“mhm f-feels so freakin’ good” Henry’s lips stayed pressed to her temple as his palm rubbed on her clit, his ring and middle finger already teasing her hole with soft pillowy thrusts, just enough for her hips to thrust themselves upwards clearly wanting more. “I can feel you gettin’ close bunbun, ya wanna finish here or in the bedroom, or both?”
“B-both?”
That was all the confirmation Henry needed for his fingers to thrust his fingers in frantically, her sensitive nub consistently making contact with his palm to bring her to finish, his other free hand that was holding her up was now holding her jaw to turn her head towards him. His lips pursing onto hers, to suck her tongue into his mouth, tasting her cherry lipstick. “God I love kissin these lips of yours, so beautiful n’ sexy”
Not even letting her reply as her orgasm washed over her, his finger repeatedly fucking her entrance while his other hand now reached down to rub her clit like a feral beast, her body shaking crazily as she rode out her high. “Aww my pretty sugar butt, you always get me so fuckin’ hard whenever you look at me like that”
His thumb brushed under her lips, her eyes looking dazed and happy as she happily nuzzled back up straight to sit closer to him.
“This okay? Or do you want it tied up as well?” Turning off the hairdryer, Henry continued to softly brush through bun’s hair as best as possible, trying to alleviate her head of worries about their babies (even though his mother just sent them a picture of them suckling on their pre-made bottles)
“I-I want it in-in a braid” Nodding Henry got the strands of hair ready, looking at her lovingly through the mirror, her eyes closed peacefully with her wearing nothing but one of his white vests. Taking his time to get the braid perfect he tied it off with a little tie and carried her up to the top of the bed, pulling back the covers to help her get settled in before he slid in beside her.
This would be their first night without the babies’ interruption.
“You wanna jus’ go to bed sugar? or-“
“No. I-I want this” Confidently she reached down and started stroking his hardened cock which was already laying against her thighs, biting her lip she shuffled forward to hook one arm around his neck as he took some of his precum and used it to lube up her pussy, small gasps leaving her at the erotic act. None of them speaking any words but the amount of love and passion in their eyes was obvious, her tits popping out from the sides of his vest as it was clearly ten sizes too big.
“Just gonna take it slow with you sweetpea, make love with ya until my pretty sugar falls asleep”
With her arms now wrapped around his torso, her head directly above his heart, Henry slipped in his cock into her warm wet pussy, both of them gasping out at the amazing sensation. “So soft n’ warm” He whispered kissing her pouty lips passionately, their tongues meeting in a wet kiss as both their hips rolled against each other. Henry’s hand lifted up her thigh to place it over his waist, his fingers tracing over the stretch marks now littering her thighs and lower stomach, even her breasts. Henry couldn’t even put into words just how much it made her look like an absolute Goddess that gave him his two precious miracles.
“D-don’t touch ‘em”
“Why not bun? They’re proof of the amazing journey you took for our family, and they look so fuckin’ sexy” Henry rebutted shutting her up with a sharp thrust which sent her mewling back into his chest, her palms flat on his back as his slow rhythmic thrusts helped her reach her orgasm quicker, each throw of his hips hitting another angle of her G-spot.
“S-sleepy Henry”
“You take all the rest you need baby, take what you need my pretty girl” He whispered pecking her lips thrice more, his hips still softly rolling against hers even after they had finished, the wet sloshy sounds of their juices filling the room as Y/n found herself falling asleep with her husband’s cock inside of her.
———
PSA: Lumberjack!Henry is back!! Meet his lovely momma who raised this beast, although he definitely got his possessive attitude from his dad who we are yet to meet, and his brothers. Hope you guys enjoy this Disneyland snippet 🫶
library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection
Taglist: @helenaellie @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @alina02 @alexxavicry @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @thoughtsofreid @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @buckybarnessweetheart @sweetybuzz25 @k3ira13 @shecamedowninabubble @ridingthehotmessexpress @animez96 @angelic-dreams13 @squishyturtle @keenduckfury @mxnnana-blog @namjoons-t1ddied @frittelligliegia @realm-of-azrael @lina505 @marvelloki23 @livesinfantasyland @slut4henrycavill @luxeydior
See you guys at the next update, lots of love 🫶🫶
#henry cavill#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill x female reader#henry cavill imagine#henry cavill fandom#henry cavill x you#rpf#henry cavill oneshot#henry cavill rpf#henry cavill x shy!reader#henry cavill fluff#henry cavill smut#lumberjack!henry cavill#fae henry thoughts#henry cavill one shot#henry cavill x short!reader#henry cavill x pregnant!reader#dad!henry cavill#husband!henry
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Fell in love with quirky murderbot so here's a quirky murderbot Yan that may or may not just want to kill you (tw: death mentions/idolization)
A bath at six in the morning.
You never had the time or energy for it before...
The water was nice. Not too hot, not too cold; pealing the spell of sleep off you at a temperature ideal for a peaceful rise. Enmeshed with first light of the waking sun, the water captures its amber glow - sunken petals at your feet shaded in the afterglow. It smelled faintly of lavender, and a colleague of lesser offenders you couldn't tell. Citrus?... Vanilla? You can't recall a time when your skin has felt smoother - so you don't bother to ask. You know better than to.
The door opens. You lower your knees as the latching stand of a tray attaches to the arms of the tub. Yogurt peers up at you from its bowl with a blueberry smile and sliced banana eyes. A flower vase, and a pair of headphones are its offering to you. A yellow smiley face sticker is plastered to the glass' side.... It shines your spoon before setting it on the tray.
"Brought you leetle snack to keep you steady til you get out. Studies show everything in it boosts mood and happiness levels in humans. I also brought you some headphones so that my outbursts don't effect you while I'm preparing breakfast."
You blow air into the water as you sink deep. "Mhm...."
Your observer gasps. "By my calculations, you seem more relaxed than usual this morning." Does that mean my services have acceptable this morning?"
Here it comes. "I guess."
"You are... satisfied with my work and efforts?"
"Yes."
"... Gonna smile for me?"
"nah."
A knife clatters to the floor.
"I spent nine hours.... "
You put on the headphones as you ease against the floor of the tub.
"9 FUCKING HOURS GETTING THAT PANSY SCHTICK DOWN PACK. DO U KNOW HOW FUCKIN' HARD THAT IS FOUR ME?!?! I GET ROBOT PTSD EVERYTIME I LOOK AT THOSE MANUALS."
"At least you spoke proper English."
"I ran you a bath and didn't plant one of my eyes in the cabinet this time .... BE HAPPY FOUR ONE SEC AND LET ME KILL YOU ALREADY GOD DAMN IT!"
The world is full of too many unfortunate people. Scornful and bitter; miserable and hopeless. It much be such a pain for those people to exist in place unfit for them - when a solution was right around the corner, but they're too damaged to ever see it. You can't be down, if The moto engraved into the mechanized heart of every bot sent out by the Happy Dayz corporation to this prevalent threat to society. They could be anyone you know.
"DOWN3R 4L3RT!!!!!! THR0UGH M0D3R4T10N 4ND H34VY CONSIDERATION, Y0U [Y/n], H4V3 B33N T4RG3T3D 4S 4 D0WN3R. TH3 0NLY CUR3 1S IMM3DIATE T3RM1N4T10N AS T0 4V01D WIDESPREAD INF3CT10N OF THE DISEASE. IF YOU BELIEVE THIS IS AN ERROR, PLEASE RESPOND TO THIS EMAIL WITHIN 4 HOURS AND TWENTY MINUTES OF RECEIVING. TH4NKS. XOXO]
Downer - level three in their classifications and the "incurables" People who will drag themselves and everyone around them down for a crumb of self gratification. Those who drown in the rain when the sun is a reach away; never to come back to shore. Orders were to execute these individuals on sight - but everyone deserves one last chance to smile. And that's how you met D.Kay
In your utmost defense, it was nearly three when you received the email. Even if you were awake, you probably would've written it off as spam and tossed it away all the same. You didn't think of yourself as a negative person, just one with not alot to be happy for. Within those few hours before dawn came a knock at the door and your worse nightmare unveiled - wearing that damned yellow mask.
"Hiya! Name'z D.Kay! Short for somethin' I kno, but U won't be alive long nuff for me to remember. I should be slammin' ur head through a wall, but it'z ur right as a living human to get one more smile in before u croak and my job to make it happen."
That was five months ago. Five long months. Given, there were some benefits. It was their goal to make your life better after all - before ending it. They helped you get a raise, cleaned up messed they mostly made, and a slew of efforts to bring out that smile. Sure your lips may quirk up or you'll smirk a bit - but that isn't a smile. They've also thrown knives into your walls, taken over your bed and refuse to let you sleep elsewhere, and snores. There's also the whole killing you thing, but that's minor at this point.
"Aw, come on- Dyin' cain't be that bad. I'd do it if I could. U'll feel better once ur in the grave." "Smiling feels so good, u' kno. The best way to use ur muscles. Besides slitting someone's throat." "This is my first mission....I was hoping to see gutz by now."
That was as far as your relationship went until one month ago. They've been acting.. strange. They wish you good morning more days than they ask if you're ready to smile. You often wake up with their arms around you and your clothes laid out. They refuse to let you dress yourself if you're going out. They stare for hours, jumping out windows if needed to get when you notice. You didn't have many friends before, but with them around they were ghosts. If you didn't know any better it was almost like they-
"LET ME KISS YOU - WHY ARE U MAKING THIS SO HARD!"
Nevermind. Wait- "Did you say...."
D.kay's impossibly side eyes shrink, mask bleeding red. "I SAID KILL. K-I-L-L. WHY WOULD I EVER BE DOWN BAD FOR A DOWNER?"
"Then why haven't you killed me yet?"
All at once their tantrum stops. It's the shortest to date. Their head dips back as if pulling the most dramatic of eye rolls. "Protocol.. U know that."
"I read the manual. If a downer refuses your olive branch you have permission to kill them and return immediately."
D.kay doesn't say a word, face still beat red from their slip up. Their hands twitch. Seething, they snatch the spoon from the tray. "Good luck without this. Enjoy your bath."
They slam the door as they leave, sinking again it. Hearing the water remain still, they pull their legs to their chest and kick the wall, hold back enough to prevent another hole. They always come when you're upset - why can't you do anything right? They pull a photo from their pocket. The photo. A picture of someone who looks so much like you it's scary, but they could never be you. They're smiling. It's small - a blip compared to the cheesy grins of everyone surrounding them, but it's still a smile. The best they've ever seen. Something feels wrong whenever they look between you and that person. Maybe they're broken too.
#yandere oc#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere headcanons#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere insert#yandere blurb#yandere drabble#yandere android#yandere robot#D.kay my oc
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Your Time (TWD One-Shot)
Negan Smith x GN!Reader / requests are open / 18+
Summary: You reminisce over your relationship with Negan and look towards the day to come. Based on the prompt "memory."
Fic type: reflective smut lite, violent in nature, extremely deranged relationship, these hoes do not be healthy in the head
EVERYTHING: @winchxters (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
TWD: @nervoussystemss (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"Aw, come on, babydoll, don't play coy with me," Negan's lips spread into a smirk, his eyes boring holes that felt as though they were digging right down into your soul. "I know you love it when I play the big bad wolf."
He was right, of course. Negan was always right. Before the sky fell and the world turned entirely to shit, you'd considered yourself a decent person. Maybe even a good person. But that was before and this was now.
Negan had found you a year or two into the shit. He'd found you curled up, covered in grime and ready to take out the Achilles of the next person who looked at you wrong. Negan had seen past that, as he usually did. He saw past the right now and into the what-can-be of a person. It was one of his many talents.
He'd seen you for what you were. A bloodthirsty killer with a thing for reassurance and praise. Negan knew he could use that. Sure, you'd tried to fit in for a while. Be the goody-two-shoes who baked for the soldiers and wore cute cardigans (not that cardigans had anything to do with being sweet. You could certainly still kill a person in a pastel cardi if you pleased).
Eventually, though, you grew bored with your own charade. You'd spent a good long while out in the muck, killing and maiming and stealing from other survivors. Your fingers began to itch for an outlet and once Negan was made aware of this little urge resurfacing, he was sure to provide you that sweet escape.
Traitors, thieves, enemies. He let you at them all. You were his best investigator, and yes, while you were severely fucked in the head, you were his. He was yours, too. Negan loved your ferocity, your drive. He loved that you were unapologetically violent and cruel, and you made a pretty match for his Saviours leader personality.
Now that wasn't to say you were always itching to rip someone a new one (and sometimes literally). Like Negan, you needed a break here and there. You could be sweet, caring, and more than affectionate when you were in the mood. Just like Negan. It was one of the reasons you both got along so well, from what you could tell.
The couple who decompress with cuddles together after ripping a prisoner's fingernails off stays together, after all.
"Maybe," you ventured, walking your fingers over his bare chest as you both looked up into the stars. God, he was so... firm. So strong. He was perfect for you. You didn't need him to protect you, and you both knew it, but it felt nice that he could if you wanted him to. "I had fun tonight."
"Me fuckin' too, darlin'," Negan replied, a rumble of affection emanating from his chest. Fun could mean a lot of things, but tonight, fun meant having fucked each others' brains out while the latest batch of fuckwits cried over the loss of their friend about eight feet away from you both. Morbid, yes, but also, very hot.
You pinched at Negan's nipple teasingly, giggling at the way he swatted your hand with a hiss.
"Don't be mean, doll." He pulled you closer by the hips and planted a hot, wet, open-mouthed kiss on your lips. He forced himself to pull away for a moment. "We got work to do tomorrow. You ready for that?"
You nodded, rolling your hips over his groin. Negan sucked his lower lip into his mouth, eyes glinting with heat. "Play the damsel," you relayed, grinding down on him again in harsh circles. "Get inside, scope the place out and sneak out after dark."
Negan's fingers flexed on your hips, his hips rolling up against yours now as well.
"Uh-uh," he tutted. "I think there's something missing from that plan of yours."
You pouted, bringing your hips to a halt. "Don't kill anyone."
"That's right, baby. Don't kill anyone. Your time will fucking come, sweetness, don't you worry about that."
If nothing else, you knew Negan to be a man of his word. If he said there'd be time for your hobbies, you sure as fuck believed him.
#one shot#the walking dead#negan#negan smut#negan smith#negan x reader#negan smith x reader#negans thirst squad#the walking dead fanfiction#jeffrey dean morgan#negan x you#negan x y/n#the walking dead fic
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Hey, I have a little idea, that I just can't get out of my head.
Joel is trying to teach the reader how to play the guitar riff of "the chain" by Fleetwood Mac, but the reader gets a bit too distracted by Joels finger movements, which he notices, teases the reader with a cheeky smirk preferably like something similar to "darling you're focusing on the wrong thing". Once he sees that the reader is blushing, he sets down his guitar, takes the readers guitar and they just do it in the living room, just because they're so caught up in the moment. Then after the deed, he let's out a snarky remark on how the reader is easily distracted (honestly I don't even know how should the remark sound, like "next time focus on the strings and not the lingering fingers") [I'll just leave it up to you], but yeah the reader promises that she would be more attentive next time and they both start wheezing, because she's already making promises that she wouldn't be able to keep. The end 🥰
PS. And bless you and your writing, the writing is absolutely astounding, the way you capture pure emotions is phenomenal, the dialogues between characters too. Everything is mind-blowing, most of the time I find myself taken aback by it 😚. Thank you!!
A/N: please forgive the fact this has been sat in my inbox for literally months, I am so sorry!! <3 I’ve had so much on recently I just haven’t had the time to write so also please forgive the fact this sucks, I feel so outta touch! Nevertheless, here is your request and I hope I’ve done it justice, somewhat as the prompt was amazing!!
Summary: you love music, almost as much as you love watching your friend, Joel, play the guitar. When you’re stuck learning a song, Joel is there to lend a hand, in more ways than one.
Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, it’s just smut, unprotected p in v, mentioned age gap, mild choking, oral (m receiving)
Characters: Joel Miller x (f) reader
Word Count: 3.6k
You sighed heavily, the breath from your lungs exhaling loudly in frustration as you threw your guitar down on the old couch in anger.
“What’s got you in a tiffy, darlin’?” Joel asked, peering his head round the corner so he could look at you.
“Can’t learn this fuckin’ riff in The Chain, y’know by Fleetwood Mac?” You groaned, slumping back into your seat and closing your eyes.
“Yeah, I’m from that era of music, darlin’. I’m well aware of the song.” He chuckled dryly and leant up against the wall of his lounge so he could admire you. “Would you like some help? I know the song and could teach you, if you like?” He said kindly.
“Really? Would you?” You grinned. “God, Joel! Yes! Thank you, you’d really by saving my life. I promised the band we would play it at our next show in a few day’s but actually didn’t realise the riff would be quite so hard. Sorry I know we said we would just hangout tonight and listen to music but this has got me all frustrated.”
Joel just smiled at you softly before he left the room to grab his own guitar. The two of you had been close friends for a while. Not long after you had moved to town, you stumbled into a local bar and saw this somewhat gruff-looking guy strumming his guitar at the open mic night. It took you to go to the same bar and see him three more times before you even grew the courage to say hello to him. There was an instant attraction between the two of you but you never quite built up the courage to become more than close friends, you spent a lot of time together and there always felt like more lingered in the air but you always managed to repress those feelings. Still, here you were now, you both seemed to just slot into one another’s life and routines seamlessly and without further words of your feelings for one another.
He reappeared with his, much nicer, and newer guitar; he gestured for you to scoot across the couch and pick up your own guitar. There was an evident age-gap between the two of you but you both bonded over your love or music and still, even still, it’s what you both loved the most.
“Okay, so,” Joel started and sat down on the couch next to you.
You turned yourself and crossed your legs so you could watch the male and follow his instructions. You picked up your own guitar and followed suit in Joel’s fingers positions.
He peered over at you with a soft smile, it was the sort of smile that hooked you from the instant you set your eyes on him; the kind of smile you wanted to drown yourself in forever. Just as quick as you saw yourself staring at the male, you diverted your gaze to his fingers once more and focused on your own positioning.
“You wanna put your fingers like this, strum, strum, switch, strum, switch…” Joel was instructing but your brain felt as if it had turned to mush.
This felt like it was the first time you properly took in the older male’s form and you could feel your cheeks heating up; you watched as Joel’s thick fingers moved effortlessly to play the riff that you had been struggling with. He continued to play and the soft chords filled your ears.
Your mind wandered filthily as he did so; you stopped trying to play along as you watched his fingers move, imagining what they would feel like touching you, feeling you, even what they would feel like inside of you. You shifted awkwardly in your seat as the familiar throb of lust swept through your body.
You imagined how it would feel to have Joel’s fingers tracing down your body softly, so incredibly softly until they were hooking inside your panties to gentle caress yo—
“Darlin’,” Joel coughed, drawing your attention back to the room. “Seems to me you’re focusing on the wrong thing…”
“What?!” You asked loudly, directing your gaze back to the smirking male in front of you. “Oh, I — uh — you,” you muttered. “Good technique.” You managed to get out with deeply flushed cheeks.
“Good technique, huh?” He chuckled. “You’re blushin’ quite a bit there.” Joel remarked with a smug smirk as he placed his guitar down on the floor away from the couch.
“N-no I am not!” You defended weakly, staring at the male once again with widened eyes as he took your guitar. “Wait, w-what are you doing?” You asked meekly.
“I’m doing what I shoulda done that night you first spoke to me.” Joel whispered, moving closer to you now.
He put your guitar on the floor, with his own and closed the distance between you; one of his strong hands held your face as he pressed a hungry kiss to your parted lips. You couldn’t help but gasp as your brain caught up with what was happening.
You pressed your palms to the males broad chest and gently pushed him away so you could open your mouth to speak once more.
“I don’t wanna ruin anything, Joel. D-don’t be dumb.” You whispered as you leant into the hand on your face.
“Shut up and kiss me, will you?” He laughed dryly before pulling you back in.
Joel manoeuvred your body until your were straddling his lap and you let out a contented sigh as he deepened the kiss; his tongue quickly swept along your bottom lip before it delved into your mouth to fight against your own. Any previous arguments of why you shouldn’t be doing this melted away with each kiss. Your hips shifted in the males lap, your greedy privates needing more friction than you were getting.
Joel let out a breathy laugh and toyed with the buttons on the front of your plaid shirt, he looked up at you to silently ask for permission, to which you gave a simple nod. Within seconds he was exposing your bra-clad chest, he couldn’t contain the deep groan that rumbled from his throat as his fingers fumbled with the fabric to expose more of your skin.
“Look at you, darlin’, so pretty.” He mumbled, attaching his rough lips to the skin of your neck and chest. He peppered soft kisses to the delicate skin and nipped at the doughy flesh of your breast.
You let out a soft moan, it was a small noise but it only encouraged Joel further; he unhooked your bra and let your bare breasts fall free from the constricting fabric. Your chest heaved, your skin was flushed and you wriggled in Joel’s lap; you weren’t sure what to do with your hands or even your body, you were fixed in the spot and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Joel’s hands again. Only this time, they were massaging at your sensitive tits, he pinched his fingers over your hardening nipples and he toyed with the sensitive buds.
“Fuck, Joel. Please, I need way more than this. Please.” You breathed, watching him still.
“Yeah?” He groaned, his cock throbbing painfully in his worn jeans. “You need more? I see the way you’re still watching me, baby girl. You wanna watch as I play with your pretty pussy?”
Your breath caught in your throat at Joel’s question, you never imagined he could sound any sexier but there he was, filth falling from his lips as he played with your tits. With such nonchalance, he might as well have asked you how you like your coffee in the morning. You nodded eagerly, unable to string an answer together and Joel just chuckled.
“Get out your jeans and panties for me then. Then, just wait, since you got such a thing for watching my hands why don’t I let you watch properly?” He smirked.
You did as you were instructed, you stood from the sofa and stripped yourself of your remaining clothes and you kicked the discarded articles of clothing to the side with your waylaid guitar. You draped your arms over your chest, feeling overly exposed compared to Joel who was still fully dressed. Joel pushed the coffee table in the middle of the room until it was a further distance away from the sofa and he swiftly took the mirror off of the wall; he rested it up against the edge of the coffee table so that it was positioned opposite the sofa.
“What are you doing?” You asked a little nervously.
“You’ll see, darlin’. Now how ‘bout you come help me get outta these clothes?”
You didn’t hesitate for a second longer and you were on the male in a flash, your hands clawed at Joel’s T-shirt as you haphazardly pulled it over his head before you moved onto unbuckling his belt and helping him out of his jeans and boxers.
His cock sprung free from the restraints of his boxers and you instantly felt yourself flutter around air, you craved any part of the older male you could get your hands on.
Joel hissed softly as the cool air hit the tip of his swollen cock, the pre-cum already beading at his slit. You swallowed roughly as your eyes drank in the male in front of you, your soft hands stroked over his broad chest with a smile.
“C’mon darlin’, sit on the floor for me.” He said softly and you nodded compliantly.
You sat on the floor, a little way from the sofa and you couldn’t help but cover your modesty as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror across from you. Joel tutted as he sat himself behind you, he spread his legs and pulled you back until you were flush against him.
“Look at you,’ Joel breathed, turning your face to look at the both of you in the mirror. “Look at how beautiful you look for me, spread your pretty little legs for me.” He held the tops of your thighs to gently pull your legs up, he stroked down your leg and pushed them open at your knees.
You wanted to close your legs, you wanted to look away but Joel had you captivated, you caught his gaze in the reflection opposite you and you smiled softly at the man.
“Don’t be shy, baby girl, you’re so beautiful, you should see yourself as I touch you.” He breathed against your neck before he peppered soft kisses there.
Your cheeks were glowing and any words you wanted to say had died long ago in your throat, you were completely hypnotised by the older male. You watched intently as his large hands stroked over your body, his fingers lightly danced over your inner thighs and you couldn’t help the way your body shook under his gentle touches.
“Stay still for me, princess.” He cooed with a soft laugh.
“C-can’t… Need you so bad and you’re teasing me.” You whined petulantly.
“No patience, huh?” He asked, nipping at your neck with a smile when you gasped.
“Joel! Please!!” You huffed as his fingers ghosted over where you wanted them the most.
You couldn’t help the way your legs instinctively spread further at his teasing fingertips which caused the older male to let out a breathy laugh.
“Atta girl, you get the idea. You wanna watch my fingers so bad, watch how they’re gonna play with your cunt.” He whispered lowly into your ear which caused your body to shudder.
Joel kept his eyes locked onto yours in the mirror’s reflection as his fingers finally fell to where you needed them most. He brushed his fingers through your damp slit, collecting your apparent arousal on them and he cocked a brow at you in the mirror.
“Hm,” he hummed happily. “This all for me, darlin’?”
You nodded weakly, just a small gasp escaping from your parted lips as Joel’s thick digits finally settled on your throbbing clit. He began to move his fingers in small circles and you were caught, entirely captivated and at his will, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the reflection unfolding in front of you.
Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you should be ashamed, should close your legs and cover your modesty but Joel had rewired your brain; him and his stupid hands. His perfect, thick and magical hands. The hands that almost had you shaking already.
“You like that, sweetheart? Like watching my fingers play with your clit?” He asked smoothly, his breath fanning against your neck as he stared at you in the mirror.
You opened your mouth but the only sound that slipped from your lips was a shaky moan which just egged Joel on further; his fingers started to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves quicker and you felt your stomach start to flutter and tense.
He kept that same, smug smirk plastered over his face as he effortlessly sped his fingers up, he occasionally let his lips drop down and kiss at the sensitive skin of your neck. Your head began to lull back as Joel’s fingers worked quickly, to edge you closer to your release but he simply tutted at you.
“Nope, baby girl, you need to watch yourself as I make you cum, need to watch you shaking for me as you cum for me.” He whispered.
You forced your head upright, the overwhelming pleasure making your limbs feel heavy. Joel dipped his fingers lower so he could insert two into you, albeit slightly awkwardly but it was enough, you could feel his thick digits stroking your spongy walls.
With every move of his fingers, the heel of his palm nudged against your clit; the room was filled with your breathy moans, Joel’s soft encouragements and the obscene squelching of your wet pussy.
“J-Joel, I’m not gonna last. Feels, fuck.” You whimpered, your fingers clawing at the flesh on Joel’s legs. “Feels so fucking good, fuck.” You cursed.
“Atta girl, cum for me; look at me in the mirror, look into my eyes as I make you cum.” He growled possessively.
You nodded, your mouth hung agape and just as Joel curled his fingers upwards, you felt yourself clench around him. He removed his fingers from inside you and went to quickly rub over your clit as you shook through your orgasm. You felt your stomach curl as your walls clenched and then you felt the first few spurts of squirt leave your body, hearing the soft splashing noise as it hit the floor.
“Oh fuck, Joel — I’m, I’m sorry. I’ve never done that before. I’ll clean it up.” You breathed, closing your legs in embarrassment.
“Don’t you dare.” He smirked. “You don’t even realise how hot that is.”
Your cheeks flushed out of embarrassment and you smiled at the older male in the mirror, dropping your legs once again and seeing the mess you had made. No man before had ever made you feel as good as Joel did, your mind began to race just how amazing he would feel if he was in a better position and you weren’t sure if you would even be able to take it.
“Now,” Joel smiled over your shoulder, nipping at the flesh playfully. “Why don’t you sit in my lap, facing the mirror so you can see my cock sliding in and out of your tight pussy?” He challenged with a raised brow.
You nodded dumbly, you honestly couldn’t believe this was your friend, the charming gentleman who would help elderly people at the store, the one that plays gently with his niece; yet here he was, dominant and filthy.
You moved out of the way so Joel sit with his back against the sofa more and close his legs, he gave his throbbing cock and few strokes with the same hand he had inside of you moments ago. You couldn’t help but stare again, you were captivated and completely mesmerised by him; it was intoxicating.
You moved once again so you could position yourself, hovering above Joel’s cock, he held the base of his member to guide it into your tight hole and then he squeezed your hips roughly. Your eyes fluttered closed as Joel lowered you into his lap, his length felt impossibly long and thick, you could feel your walls stretching around him until you were completely bottomed out on him.
“Joel, fuck, so—“ you breathed out. “So big, Jesus.”
“I prefer being called Joel, but hey, I’ll respond to Jesus.” He teased, squeezing your hips. “So tight baby girl, so good for me.” He muttered, urging you to rise before sinking down again.
You rolled your eyes at the male but started a steady rhythm, lifting yourself and sitting back down continuously; Joel felt incredible, better than anyone you had been with before, with every time you lowered yourself, you could feel the thick tip of his cock nudge against your g-spot, you felt like you were seeing stars. Completely cock drunk on the older male.
“I can’t keep this up, my legs are shaking already and I feel like I’m gonna cum again.” You whispered, looking at Joel’s blissful, pleasured face.
“Come on, just a little bit more for me, just a bit more.” He groaned as he took his hands to hold onto your tits once again.
You shook your head, took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat. “Like this.” You instructed.
“Fuck.” He groaned. “You’re trouble, darlin’.” He smirked and gently squeezed your throat as you continued to ride him.
You clenched around him in response, soft moans falling from your parted lips. Joel used his other hand to find your clit once again, his calloused fingers circling it expertly. You watched his fingers again in the mirror and that’s all it took; your eyes drank in the erotic scene. The older males hand around your throat, his fingers playing with your clit and his cock plunging in and out of your hole. You sank into his lap and circled your hips as you came around him, with a wrecked moan.
“Good girl, good girl, good girl.” Joel cooed in your ear, the praise sending shocks through you as you rode out your orgasm.
Joel released your throat and removed his fingers from your oversensitive clit as he let you regain your composure once again. He gently got you off his lap as you got your breath back.
“Let me sort this out.” You smirked, wrapping your hand around his cock.
“Hmm?” Joel smirked.
You spread his legs, and knelt between them and without another word, you sucked the males length into your mouth, sinking down until it hit the back of your throat.
Joel let out an animalistic groan and instinctively wrapped his fingers into your hair to steady himself from bucking up into your mouth. He looked at the reflection in front of him; his hair-covered chest was already heaving with effort as you started to bob your head in his lap. And then there was your body; your perfect body, with all its curves and lines, he watched as your ass moved with each bob and every now and then, he could catch a glimpse of your wet pussy.
You sank your mouth lower until your nose was buried in the thatch of dark hair at the base of his cock, your senses were filled with Joel, he scent was heady and intoxicating but even amongst all of that; you could taste yourself on the male, normally it would make your stomach turn but with him, you couldn’t get enough. You were eager to please him and you worked your mouth quicker, wrapping a hand around the base to move in sync with your mouth.
“I’m gonna cum, fuck, please don’t stop that, please don’t stop.” The older male moaned, his words almost sounding like a pleading whimper.
His fingers tightened in your hair as you pulled your mouth off with a pop. You looked up at the male through your lashes and flashed him a devilish grin.
“Cum on my face.” You stated bluntly as you stroked him quicker.
Joel was left speechless, he was dumbfounded as he watched you stick your tongue out, waiting to receive his load. You stroked him, your thumb brushing over the tip of his cock and that’s all he needed, his fingers still tangled in your head as his cock twitched; thick ropes of his cum hitting your tongue, painting your cheeks and chin.
You smirked at him and swallowed down his load with a soft moan. Joel’s head fell back onto the sofa and you sat back on your heels, face a total mess and feeling sticky with sweat all over.
“Fuck me.” Joel groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. “That was…”
“Unexpected?” You offered up with a soft laugh.
Joel laughed and looked back up at you, his cock twitched as he watched his load dribble down your face.
“Let me get you a cloth.” He laughed and kissed the top of your head before leaving the room.
He returned shortly after, as you were wiping your face and regaining some decorum, he put his mirror back up on the wall.
“How ‘bout we both go shower and then I actually teach you how to play that damned song? And how ‘bout this time, you don’t get distracted as easily on my fingers, hm?” He teased.
“Ugh, you’re the worst. Maybe don’t have such nice hands?” You retorted, pushing past him to run upstairs.
Maybe it was time for you to find a new guitar teacher.
———
#joel miller#joel x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#pedro pascal
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hi this is BRAINROT. in case you confuse it with a request, is pure concept dump and i wanted to share it with you.
imagine subby jake with reader and he is SO sensitive. like he just starts whining and being so NEEDY, like he is BEGGING for us to fuck him
- 💮 anon
fucking love.
I don't think you understand.
Requests Closed!!
mdni.
warnings: subby!Jake :) he's just being a little baby omg, you're kinda being a top ;), teasing, p in v, creampie
More and more he reminded you of a toddler.
All morning he followed you around, his hands grabbing at your body to pull you close to him. The afternoon was much of the same, this time he managed to get close enough to start whispering unspeakable things into your ear. Finally, he spent the evening practically on his knees.
Now, he had himself pressed against your backside as you prepared some items for tomorrows daily tasks. He was unmistakeable hard, and from the way it was twitching and the damp spot on his loincloth caressing your skin, you knew it was painful. On you shoulder, he rested his cheek, pleading with his life. His palms kneaded at your waist and even reached for your wrists at times.
"God baby, what else do I need to say? Please, just give me five minutes. I just want you to touch me for five minutes." There was a peculiar hiccup to his tone. Was that a tear trickling onto your shoulder?
When he sniffled, your heart dropped, "Fuck, I'm a goddamn mess. Please hon, jus'...ngh-" you had shifted against him and that was enough friction for him to tense "-c'mon, I'm already so close, jus' want you on my lap." He finished off with a few pathetic sobs.
Truthfully, you didn't think he'd take it this far. Jake normally had much more composure and dignity. Perhaps this was a side of him that was deeply buried. The part that was pawing at your arms and crying on your shoulder to make him cum.
"I-I've been behaved, ya know? Not pickin' fights, doing my duties, treating you good." You rolled your eyes, how could he get anymore pitiful? "Havent I been good? Baby, please, please fucking please!"
Now he was just plain crying. He had himself pressed against you so tightly that any minuscule movement made by your body had him yelping. At first, there was a particular kind of guilt that rung in your chest. You wouldn't like to be denied like this, for this long. But seeing him get so worked up that he was practically rutting against your back was downright annoying.
"Alright!" You huffed, "Enough, get a grip." Gently, you wriggled from his desperate grapple, and had him seated on the ground.
"Yes! Oh god thank you." His eyes already rolling back into his head at the thought.
You clicked your tongue, "I said pull yourself together." Your eyes shifted down to his loincloth, and you began to shimmy it out of the way, "Look at this Jake," you scolded.
He clenched his jaw, his brows dipping in an embarrassed manner, "I know babe, it's bad. I can't help it, you're too fuckin' hot and I turn into a goddamn animal."
At least he was self aware. The least you could offer him was what he wanted. For a moment, you genuinely worried about hurting him, denying him this long.
With a loving hand on his thigh, you indulged, "What do you want?"
"You!" he whined, "Anything, fuckin' anything."
"Be specific Jake."
Considering your words carefully, he chewed his lip, then babbled out, "Please ride me baby."
A faint grin painted your lips, "Sure Jake."
Staring off, you let your hands explore his twitching thighs, purposefully dancing around his impressive length. Every time you neared the area he cried for you to give attention, he'd rut into the air, and sigh out a few more pleads. Each beg and whimper of your name helped your own ache accumulate beneath your naval. Knowing he was yours to tease and tamper with had your mind fogged over with an incredible ego. You knew the way to hear him weep again was to sink yourself onto him.
So, you shifted onto his reliable lap, flicking away his excited hands. With two fingers, you woke up your center, spending a few moments at your clit and smearing your slick onto both of you. When your hand haphazardly pumped against Jake to lubricate him, his back collapsed against the ground, garbling out jumbled nothings.
"I hope you're ready." You warned him, hoping to penetrate his daze as you penetrated yourself with him.
He didn't reply with confirmation, only groaned lowly and richly as you enveloped him. With each inch that entered, you felt the way his blood pumped angrily and thought of how much self control he struggled for in that moment. He had been stiff for hours, too many hours, so how he wasn't finishing in you that moment was commendable.
You had to applaud him when your hips were flush, "Wow...so so good. Mm! Want me to move, my good boy?"
A sudden gasp for life snapped his eyes open at you. Had you struck or strummed a chord within him? His expression was almost readable.
Tentatively, his hands settled on your hips, the tiniest curve upward of hips lips teasing the idea of a smile, "Please."
You leaned down slowly, holding his enamored stare as you approached his expression, "Of course baby." You purred, taking his lips onto yours.
After gingerly pulling away, you used your strength to lift off his groin and slide back down again. Still, he wasn't finishing, but his nails digging into your sides said otherwise. You wondered if your slower pace was more agonizing than a steady rhythm. Either way, Jake would still be fighting to spit up fragments of sentences through his numbed mind. Most of what he coughed up was choked up moans that offered you motivation to keep at what was doing just the trick for both of you.
You knew both your hearts were working overtime. Blood rushed rapidly through your body, and Jake's blood was pumping furiously in you. Sometimes it was hard to decipher his nearing orgasm twitches, or how sensitive he had made himself.
Each time your pelvis met his again, he would mewl or sigh. These sounds weren't entirely foreign to you, but the frequencies of them was. It was like clock work he would sputter out a pleased confirmation, all of them making you hotter and hotter.
"Love hearing you like this Jake." You grit, finding the might to pick up your pace, and his moans became more jumbled.
"Ohhh, feels fuckin' amazing." Jake groans, barely coherent. Amazing was right.
To add a special spice, you rolled your hips in varying directions and watched as his composure completely crumbled into a fine dust. This seemed to trigger more tears from Jake.
"Is everything okay?" You let your hips slow and you wiped away his tears,
He was pathetically gasping for air, "C-can I cum? So good." Some more tears spilled over.
You had been in this position before. Tears rolling down your cheeks because Jake had fucked you like an expert. Sometimes, it is so good all you can do is tear up.
"'Course baby."
With a reassuring kiss placed on his sad, puffy lips, you returned to rhythmically maneuvering your hips. Though it would normally haunt you to see Jake in tears, you found his tears here and now to be so sexy.
A few more salty droplets were squeezed from his tightly closed eyes as he cried out. "Thank you, thank you..." he chanted mindlessly. A few pathetic thrusts of his hips meant his cum would soon be dripping out of both of you.
It was like Jake had crossed the finish line when he released. All day he had worked toward this moment, and now that it was here he was absolutely euphoric. He let his body do what felt best so he could milk every sensation you pulled from him. The amount of cum spurting into you was almost alarming, especially when Jake starting writhing beneath you and dragging his deeply embedded nails down your sides.
"Fu-u-uck!" Jake sobbed, his chest hiccuping with each syllable.
But you continued. Why would you stop now? Though all the signs pointed to him maybe being in pain, you knew this was the only way to heal him.
He was right. He had been behaving. Even when he was sobbing for you, he treated you right.
#avatar#avatar x reader#avatar smut#jake sully#jake sully smut#jake sully x reader#jake sully x y/n#jake sully x you
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📋Compartment Syndrome
gn! reader x Captain Price
"...I had to kill it to keep it, framed it afterwards, above my bed so I could see it each morning."
-???
(tw: unhealthy relationship, phisical violence, mentions of drugs, minor mention of reader 'being the other woman')
You served John divorce paper today.
He's sat at the kitchen table blunt nails drumming against mahagoney as he look at you, then the documents, less surprised or heartbroken more expectant.
And it baffles you how a man so big can look so small, how a man that fills up doorways and commands the air around him like second nature can slump his shoulders, hide his tears with coughs.
İt was a few years in the making and even then you feel bad, this is the man you love, loved; you used to stay up at night waiting for his footsteps on the front lawn. You have to remind yourself that was over five years ago, back when he actually bothered with you and the home, the love he had vowed to build with you, left high and dry like an abonded building spiderwebs in the corners and illegible graffiti on the walls, suffocating dust clouds merging with ominous shadows.
You used to hotbox in buildings like that, you and what few friends you had back in the days he wouldn't even look your way.
"And-"
He lifts the first paper pretends to take a look at the one below that and pushes them away from him, a muscle feathers in his jaw.
"-your reasoning for this? I'd like to think you wouldn't ruin us over something petty luv."
He knows and you know that he knows, you've argued about it often, you wanted him to be home more, you wanted him to be safe, you wanted him to at least bother interacting with you beyond sex, dinner and whenever he couldn't find the remote.
It wasn't even about his job at this point the day you had married that bright eyed, headstrong young man you knew you'd always be the other woman to his job you just desperately want his shadow out of your home at this point.
You clear your voice ,eyes on your weathered house slippers.
"Look I don't want to offend you, I don't even wanna cut you off completely! I just think-"
"Straight to the point, sweetheart."
He emphasis the word sweetheart, today of all days, knowing how it makes you feel.
"Neglect."
You answer, his eyes widden ,nose flaring.
"Neglect? Oh please we've been over this honey, I don't neglect you I'm not home kissing your feet all the damn time because I have a fucking job to do! I'm the one who keeps a roof over your head and defends this country while you sit at home and twiddle your thumbs! God you're fuckin infuriating, this is why you can't find a damn job, you braindead homebody-"
"I started working at the new school, the one that opened last year, you didn't get my messages?"
He falters, runs a hand over his overgrown beard.
"You did? That's- luv that's amazing! How's the pay? Are your colleagues-"
"Let's- let's just stay on subject, please."
You tell him doing your best to keep your voice even and cold.
He deflates, leaning back in his chair as he sighs. He looks awfull, unshaven, hair greasy, shirt dotted with blood and one of his arms in a sling you'd said that it was important that you couldn't wait for him to change or shower, less you chikcen out like the first five times it used to feel impossible to leave him once, he was bigger than life with each little bastardized segment leading up to him in some capacity.
"Luv, listen I know you're frazzled I've been gone for a month and I was barely home for a week before that, I understand ya wanna pick at me and get ya anger out but I've had a long ass month, okay? I just want a shower, your cooking then I want to cuddle up to the love of my life, yeah? Give an old man a break and for fucks sake get rid of these."
He gets up with a groan and pushes the papers towards you it always suprises you, how quickly he can dismiss arguments you've spent hours thinking through, how small he can make you feel.
"Price, look-"
"What the fock did ya just call me?"
"-I know it's painful to think about but this relationship obviously isn't serving either of us anymore, you're too busy for it and I don't think I ca-"
He has you against the wall before you can even react, shoulders and chest crushing you against the smooth, pearly white surface as his humid breath warms your cheek, your arm twisted across your back in the grip of his good hand; pain like coke sparking cruel stars in your visom.
"Shut. The fuck. Up."
He growls in your ear mashing his nose against your cheekbone.
"There is no reason for us to be together, just listen to me for a second-"
You hiss in pain as he twists your arm further, your ring finger -adorned by his mother's heavy, heirloom ring- brushing against your shoulder blade.
"I love you and you love me, that's plenty reason to stay together. Isn't it?"
It's marvellous how much conviction he can put into that excuse when you're pretty sure it's his hundredth time saying it, slightly different context, same words. You almost miss the times you'd jump through hoops for a smile from him when he was indifferent to you because he had no reason to treat you any way else.
"Isn't it?"
You nod, cheek rubbing against the wall as your eyes water.
He relaxes his grip on your arm, presses firm, moist kisses against your face.
"That's my baby, I know you're upset, I know and I'll make it up to you, I promised 'n I always keep my promises don't I?"
Your face is sour with all the promises he broke, all the times he let you down, left you alone as you nod.
"Use your words luv."
You take a deep breath, trying to find your words through the pain of your twisted muscles, your straining elbow, your back straight and stiff as a cutting board that your arm is pinned on.
"Yes, John."
He clicks his tounge, sharp sigh brushing against the side of your face.
"I just got injured ya ought to be a little bit sweeter."
"Yes,-"
You take as deep a breath as his crushing body allows.
"Yes, honey."
He smiles, letting go of you and stepping back allowing you- granting you space to breath, to turn around and rub at your burning arm something too close to guilt for comfort in his eyes. You stay like that for a few moments, feeling his eyes across your skin; slow and heavy like his hands like something you have to work to keep on you.
"One last thing?"
You look up, his eyes are wet. He hands you the divorce papers. Your lawyer will be so disappointed.
"Rip them and think about what you're doing next time, how your actions affect me."
You take them, the pristine paper shaking in your hands as your rip them, barely seeing through your tears you walk over to the bin.
He looms over you, broad shadow blanketing, eclipsing yours, swallowing it. He wraps his good arm around your waist when you're done, presses his barrel chest against you stil-stiff back and flutters kisses from the base of your neck up to your jawline.
"Y'know I love you."
#call of duty x reader#captain john price x reader#cod x gn!reader#angst#tw codependency#tw marital abuse#tw neglect#captain price x reader#captain price x you#hurt/angst#hurt/comfort#ig?
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inked #1
Summary: bucky is Shit At Talking so he just writes to his best friend. who he is absolutely not in love with. nope. it's just a therapy project. really.
Warnings: cursing, just bucky being his angsty cynical ass self
Word count: 350
A/N: i have like 15 excerpts from letters like this lying around my drafts for weeks so im just letting them free into the world. very loosely kind of like alex turner's letters to alexa chung. i hope this should be easy to write and remains drabbles since it's kinda low effort and im not really expecting people to read this hehe
This is bullshit.
Never been good with words. Could have been, if I spent more time in school instead of the docks. Steve managed to find something for himself out of his art. I got busy trying to keep things around me from going to shit.
For the record, these are not love letters. Christ, do you know how long it's been since I wrote one? A hundred fuckin years ago, and I can’t even remember her name now.
But I need to get out of therapy, and Raynor says this is a step towards that. Just an outlet.
It’s homework, is what it fucking is. Like I’m back in middle school.
I fucking tell you, i don’t even know why I’m doing this now. I should be asleep. The crackass of dawn isn’t even happening for a few more hours.
I don’t think this is going to be a regular thing. Contrary to what the doc says, most days I don’t know what’s going on in my head. If I do ever manage to figure it out, I'm guessing you'd already be long gone.
It’s useless, is what I’m trying to get at here. If you haven’t already cracked that. If there's any god out there that hasn't already deemed me unsalvagable, you'll never have to read these.
But it's the middle of the night and I know you're awake. I can hear you teetering around out there. I wonder if anyone else can hear you, or you know I'll be listening.
Anyone else, I'd have closed my damn eyes and pretend I couldn't hear.
But in a few seconds I know I'm going to pull on a shirt and go looking for you to see what you want at fucking 3am. I want to know why.
I know you have them too. Nightmares. Nothing I can fix-- same as you, with mine. Truth be told, there’s nothing about you I want to fix, anyway.
But if you're out at 3am, trying to be quiet, I know you're looking for the homemade bread. It's above the microwave.
Give me a few seconds. I'll join you.
I know where they've kept the good olive oil.
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!
anyway, if you want to send in prompts for future letters, please do!
#Bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfic#mcu fic#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fluff
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Paradise: Old Army Uniform Style
A late midweek (although I suppose it’s the end of the week now) treat for everyone - finally; my fill for the prompt “Army Elvis”.
pairing: fem!reader x 1964-6 Elvis.
summary: reader walks in on Elvis trying on an old outfit in the midst of his struggles with his body image - she takes the initiative to try and convince him he’s still hot af.
I tried, i really tried. I wrote 156 words for an ‘army elvis’ fic where he’s actually in the army but I spent the whole time thinking nope I hate it I can’t get the words right, I don’t know enough…etc etc. Maybe one day I’ll finish the alternative fic I had started but for now, please enjoy how I managed to fit late 1964-6 Elvis into this prompt.
warnings: 18+, use of the term ‘fat’ as both an adjective and a derogatory term for elvis to describe himself, but briefly and very gently. Insecure Elvis, oral (p receiving).
wc: for how long this took me to get out - an embarrassingly small 3.2k
as always thank you for the help + encouragement to the girlies @whositmcwhatsit, @thatbanditqueen, @vintageshanny, @missmaywemeetagain, @ellie-24, @from-memphis-with-love, @powerofelvis
“Fuckin’ hell.” You can hear a clamour from the dressing room off the side of the bedroom when you walk in, clothing strewn about and Elvis swearing. What the hell is he doing.
“El?” You tentatively creep around the doorframe, he’d stormed up here a little while ago, furious about something that had been said to him on the phone during a ‘business meeting’ - shouting that he was “Gettin’ ready to leave - gonna leave y’all here if you ain’t ready when I come down.”
He was meant to be getting ready for the Memphian, like he had been every evening this past week and you’d wondered what was taking him so long since, despite his warning, he’d been up here a while. Of course, you’re in no hurry - the shows don’t start until Elvis turns up whatever time of the night or morning that may be and the boys were happy (and expected) to entertain themselves downstairs until he reappeared.
You round the corner, blinking at the sight in front of you, trying to make sense of the trail of clothing, the mismatch of the fabrics surrounding Elvis in the centre. Your eyes finally manage to focus on him and you wince a little as you see what he’s found. He’s staring at himself in the large mirror, twisting and turning. You try not to draw attention to yourself, yet, wanting to try and decipher his feelings before making yourself known.
You know he’s struggling at the moment - to find the right things to wear. It hasn’t helped his confidence none being shafted by the wardrobe departments. The worst offender being that god-awful brown shirt and pants he has to wear for Hawaiian Paradise; the beige supposedly slimming but everyone seems to be aware it’s having the opposite effect. Any attempt at suggesting a different costume had been put down - arguing that the costuming reflects the character, it’s apparently integral to make it clear he's a pilot. Regardless of the fact that the plot makes it clear Rick has limited professionalism and would, therefore, as a private pilot be unlikely to wear such a thing. It’s worse than that too - you know, Elvis knows, Larry knows, wardrobe knows, hell everyone knows that that outfit, and the way he’s being purposefully shielded from the cameras topless, how even swimming they refuse to film him from the front is all on orders from on high.
Orders that revolve around ‘the state’ of him at the moment, of his ‘hefty weight’ as that one Variety reviewer referred to him. Scarcely could you read a review without some discussion of his recent weight gain or the word ‘pudgy’ being used to describe some part of him. Elvis himself has become a little preoccupied with these comments - he wouldn’t allow them to film him naked from the waist up even if they’d tried in what he felt was his ‘current condition’.
You think - just for a second, looking at him now, that he’s in that uniform although why he’d have brought it home from set and all the way to Tennessee you couldn’t imagine. Before you realise that it was in fact the tan of his summer chino uniform. One of his old army uniforms - perhaps the oldest judging from the badge on his arm. You can see, as he twists and turns in the mirror, tugging at the fabric, that the pants gape at the waist - too tight to zip closed, and the shirt buttons are closed but faintly straining. It’s immediately clear it doesn’t fit. But it’s also clear that it’s not far off, and you dread to think how you would look trying to fit in a dress from five or six years ago - the difference between your very early twenties and being basically thirty seems like quite the jump.
You can see he’s miserable. His hair’s undone and flopping forward - a relief from his recent desire to have it gelled into an unmoving coif - working to hide his face from yours in the mirror, but with every jerking pull of the fabric, accompanied by the swearing spilling out of his mouth, you can tell he’s feeling awful. You repeat yourself from before, interrupting him this time -
“El? You alright?” He stills, glancing up at you in the mirror. There’s a pause that feels longer than it probably is as he makes eye contact before looking away, a flush creeping up his neck.
“‘m fat.” He mumbles it, almost as if not wanting you to hear it, you can’t help but roll your eyes - you appreciate he feels this way but it all feels a bit ridiculous considering you’re looking at him all day every day, and sure there is a difference but hardly to the extent he’s claiming.
“You’re not fat.” He whirls around to look at you properly,
“I am.”
“You’re not. And if you are, god only knows what you’d call me.” You gesture down yourself, he winces - if there’s one thing he’s learnt it’s to never comment on a women’s weight -
“Well it’s, it’s not the same thing at all. It’s different for you - w’men are meant, meant to be soft, ‘m ‘m not. I’ve got,” he gestures to his hips, “handles” You frown, resting your hands in the soft dip of your waist on top of the swell of your own hips.
“So do I.” You flare your fingers out to illustrate your point. He throws his hands in the air, as high as he can with the shirtsleeves too tight on his armpits.
“Don’t know why I bother trying to ‘splain - you ain’t listenin’ to me -“ He sounds it out, “You’re. Meant. To.” You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that he’s just upset and that’s why he’s behaving like a bit of a dick.
“If you weren’t meant to be - You wouldn’t be.” You believe that for him and yourself - wholeheartedly. He huffs,
“Don’t know why I even tried.” He starts angrily unbuttoning the shirt and you wince at his roughness - it might be useless, and it might be impossible to wear but it still feels emblematic of a part of him. “Stupid idea. This is why all ‘m doing is them shitty films. Won’t be getting any Jimmy Dean comparisons lookin’ like this.” He starts to tug at the pants, it would be comical the way he has to attempt to wriggle them off of his, admittedly thick, ass if you couldn’t see the waistband scraping him on the way down, little red marks being left.
“You’re being overdramatic. I promise, babe, no one cares whether you can fit in your old uniform.” He lets out a hollow laugh, sitting on the occasional chair in the corner, shoving the pants to his thighs.
“No honey, they do. That’s what - what the Colonel was ringin’ about, wanted to tell me they won’t be using me as I am now on the albums for the film - gonna use, use some from Acapulco ‘stead.” He can’t get the pants down any further and you have to stifle a laugh - you feel sorry for him, you truly do, but he just looks so ridiculous sat there with his pants bunched around his thighs, shirt open, pouting.
“Babe - I, I don’t know why this bothers you so much - they’re assholes!” He shakes his head, crossing his arms and looking to the side.
“They might be, but they’re right. Soon enough no-one’s gonna want to buy anything from me. I’ll be a fat old man. ‘s just like Germany all over again, ‘m terrified everyone’s gonna move on without me.” He looks affronted when you do laugh at him this time,
“Sweetheart, you’re not anywhere near old yet, and uh, well, you might have put on a little bit of weight, but you’re not out of shape and you’re not - honestly it’s ridiculous I’m having to tell you this. You’re not unattractive.” He sighs at this, like he thinks you’re just placating him, thumping his arm on the chair like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Want me to go grab a couple of the girls from outside?” You giggle, he kicks a foot out. “Bet they’d show you how you still are.” His eyebrows are still pulled together, but you can see his frown relaxing, as if he wants to laugh but still refuses to.
“Or, you just want me to make you feel better? Show you how much I want you still?” He looks you up and down, as if assessing the offer, you smile at him when his eyes linger on your bare thighs for a second. He goes soft for a second, quiet,
“I just thought maybe, maybe I’d fit and-and it would prove that I wasn’t getting all pudgy - hefty. Like they keep puttin’ it.” You don’t know what to say, it’s not altogether untrue - it would just be untrue to say that he doesn’t look good, that the few extra pounds haven’t gone straight to his meaty thighs and stomach making you want to sink your teeth into them, haven’t rounded some of his clean lines to look even better than before; manly, rugged. Even with the hollywood styling.
“What,” You pause, worrying that this is going to be the wrong thing to say, that it will make the spiral worse, “What made you try that particular outfit though?” He huffs again, frown back on his face. Before he seems to come to some sort of decision and sits up, leaning forward,
“I dunno, I just felt real similar to how I did then, and I know I looked good bythe time I was meeting with Sinatra, I was fit and, I don’t know really. I jus’ wanted to be home the whole time I was over there… and now, now I’d do anything to go back.”
“Hmm.” You’re non-committal in your response, you know he wouldn’t like to go back to Germany, back to the army, at all. You remember vividly how homesick he was, how much he hated being away, how miserable he was for those first few months after Gladys’ death. You’re pretty sure he’s just had a bad meeting that’s weighing heavily on him - and that if you can cajole him out the door for a night of fun he’ll be, not fully okay but, at least more balanced or rational about it all by tomorrow. You take a step forward, he’s forced to tilt his chin up to maintain eye contact with you. “I think maybe I just need-ta show you how gorgeous you are?” He frowns, but this time you’re not letting him distract you again, cupping his face in your hands.
You have to bend to meet his lips, and he has to strain up a little, his hands coming up to grip your thighs. It’s like a switch has been turned on. You swear you can feel his pulse through his fingertips, spreading from where he’s gripping your skin, travelling straight up to meet your own heartbeat that’s starting to thump between your legs. By the time your lips even touch you’re openmouthed, practically begging him to lick into you. You kiss him, soundly, controlling the movement in a way he very rarely allows unless he was feeling particularly vulnerable. You can feel in the way he sinks into you that you made the right choice, the way his cheek rests heavy in your palm, the feel of his eyelashes as they flutter against your cheekbones.
“C’mon Sergeant let’s get this off of you,” You tug at his shirtsleeves, pleased when he shrugs the shirt off the rest of the way while still trying to chase your mouth. “Now these.” You push at his trousers, they’d been stuck before, only a hint of the dark thatch of hair appearing just above the open waistband, but with your insistent motion they start to come down further, he lifts his hips to allow for them to come fully off and you can’t help but smile as you’re faced with him in total nakedness. “There now. That’s better.” He looks up at you, from under his lashes, where you’re still hovering over him. “Now. Where was I.” You start to sink down, between his thighs, your hands trailing over his shoulders. He grabs a wrist,
“Don’t - you don’t gotta do this, don’t, don’t want you to pretend none, honey,” You pull your wrist out from his grip, situating yourself firmly on the floor but kneeling up far enough that your head was at chest height. You look up at him,
“I’ll do whatever it takes to convince you. I’m not pretending, I swear baby,” You brush your fingers down his chest, skimming the side of his tummy, poking a little at his waist, he jerks away, ticklish, and you giggle as you can’t help but do it again,
“No-oo! Honey, no, not,” He’s laughing himself now, unable to stop as you jab your fingers into the soft sides of him, “Not there, stop!” You ease off, stroking where you’d been prodding, at the faint flush of red from the rough contact.
“I love this.” You prod him a final time for good measure, leaning in to kiss the fat on the side. “Love this, my perfect man.”
“Don’t -“ He flinches, turning his head away from you again, tucking it into his neck.
“Don’t what? Don’t tell you the truth? Don’t tell you that I like the look of you any which way? Don’t tell you that I think anyone who says otherwise must be blind. Don’t show you,” You let your hands continue their journey down brushing over his hips, over the dimples just below before coming to rest on his thighs. “How much I love how you look?” You look up at him, sinking back onto your heels, “Let me show you Elvie baby, let me show you how much I love all of you.” You make eye contact, waiting for him to nod, before turning your full attention to what had really brought you to your knees.
He’s still only half-hard, and you pause, looking at him considering for a moment. “Watch me baby.” You take your hand under your dress, pushing into through the leg band of your panties, gathering some of the growing slick wetness onto your fingers, just enough for them to be a little slippery. You pull them out, watching Elvis track you with burning eyes, never moving from your fingers. You reach up to gently grasp his cock, your slick providing just enough lubrication. It jumps when you touch it, and he throws his head back as you move your hand gently but firmly, playing with him until he’s fully chubbed up. Only then do you remove your sticky hand, resting it on his thigh. You look up at him, determined to keep eye contact as he turns back to face you. You sink forward, lapping at his head, little kitten licks as you allow yourself to fall into the blue of his eyes. His hands are staying on the arms of the chair, as if he can tell you’re in charge right now even without you having to say it. You feel his thighs clench after a moment, and you take that as invitation to sink down properly.
The warm wet heat of your mouth causes him to swear violently, and when you glance down at his lips they’re open, parting as he pants a little. You push yourself on, taking him as deeply as you possibly could before pulling back and sinking back down. He can’t seem to still his hips completely moving then back and forth forcing you to chase him back down - to have to try to ensure he doesn’t slip all the way out. You start to pull out all of the tricks, your spare hand coming up to stroke his balls, a gentle encouragement of sorts, while you begin to hum any tune that comes into your mind, causing his hips to circle, a “Goddamn baby.” to spill out of his mouth and his hand to come to rest on your head. You open your throat, pushing all the way onto him, forcing you to break eye contact with how your nose bumps his famous pelvis once he’s fully situated. He’s making little breathy whines and moans as you rock your throat back and forth on him, swallowing occasionally to clear your mouth of his precum and because every time you do you can feel him twitch. You pull all the way off, circling his head with your tongue on the way, he whines as you do, a bereft noise, while you take a few deep, gulping, breaths.
You watch how Little Elvis is left rosy and standing at attention, how when you exhale he twitches from the force of your blow. You capture him in your mouth again, returning to the task at hand. It’s not long, with you using every trick of your tongue that you have, before his grip tightens on your head, hand fisting in your hair. You swallow, and he moves your head himself once, twice, before his hips stutter and he spills down your throat. You glance back up at him, peering past his tummy as best you could, watching his face contort as he grunts out an “Oh f-f-fuck.” His pouty lips parted, eyes shut. You pull back, licking his tip clean, before pressing a kiss to his thigh.
“That make you feel any better?” He smiles as he opens his eyes and you get to see the sparkle in them again.
“God, Jesus. How’re you so good at that.” You shrug, kneeling back,
“God-given talent for me to use on pretty men I guess.” He chuckles, stroking a finger down your face, this time he’s the one cupping your chin.
“`Thank you darlin’. You’re gorgeous baby.” You tilt your head as if conceding, lifting up a finger to poke him again.
“Even so, regardless of all of this, it’s whats on the inside that counts.” You mean it earnestly but he looks back at you, a glint in his eye as he traces a finger over your lips,
“Certainly is doll. What’s inside that counts.” He winks, and you gulp almost choking on your own spit in surprise at his double entendre. He grins, standing up to grab the pants on the back of the chair, finally actually getting ready to go out. You sit back on your heels content to simply watch him go about his routine.
You giggle a little, watching him tuck his shirt into his pants. A thought pops into your head - one that you’re not willing to say out loud and spoil his newfound good mood, remind him of his status that should, somehow, ease the human insecurities he feels, you know he’d hate it. But you can’t stop yourself from thinking it; I can’t believe I’ve just had to spend half an hour telling Elvis Presley he’s a stud still.
#elvis fanfic#elvis smut#elvis x reader#be-my-ally#elvis x you#elvis presley fanfiction#elvis presley x reader#writing prompt game
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— [🪐] ·˚ ༘ ✎ 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
MDNI | a.arlert x fem!reader
𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: armin just loves having you in his bed. sometimes he loves it a little too much..
𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴) :: mean armin (again), overstim, multiple creampies (some are implied), petnames (butterfly, good girl, angel), mean petnames (whore), fingering (let me know if i missed anything!)
𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 :: two posts in two days? i’m impressed with myself. this was some old thing i had written when i was having severe brain rot for armin (as usual). i also had zero clue what to name it 😭
© 2023 ringsofsaturn | please don't copy or repost my works! i have not given permission to anyone to repost my works. reblogs/comments/likes are okay!
𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦��𝘥𝘦𝘥
“fuckin love this pussy, god.” the sound of skin against skin had your mind going blank. “could stay stuffed in it for hours.” the sound of armin’s voice behind you sounded muffled as your brain turned to mush. his thrusts were deep and hit that one spot inside of you every. single. time. you’d lost count of how many times you’d cum, and frankly, you’d lost track of how long you’d been at it.
armin never failed to turn you into his personal cocksleeve whenever the two of you fucked. he had the stamina of a god and didn’t mind overstimulating himself in his own personal pursuit of turning you into his own little cumdump. more often than not, you’d tap out way quicker than he would.
he would use your spent body, cumming wherever he felt like it. your pussy? inner thighs? tummy? face? name a place and he’s probably painted it with his pretty white cum at some point in your relationship. it’s not like you were complaining, though.
“fuck, butterfly,” his cry was whiny and high pitched. “i’m gonna cum again. gonna do it inside.. need to make sure you’re stuffed full of me by the end of the night.” he spoke as if he hadn’t already dumped two loads of his heavy, sticky seed inside of your poor abused cunt. you just babbled back at him, which made him smirk. he loved when you went dumb on his fat cock.
your legs shook as you yelped loudly, his nails sinking into your plush thighs as his hips stuttered ever so slightly. it wasn’t long before they pushed into you for the last time. white ropes of his heavy cum buried themselves inside of you as he moaned loudly, singing your praises. “s’good for me, yeah? takin’ my cum like a good little girl.” he groaned as he finally finished stuffing you full.
you felt bloated because of how many loads he had continuously pushed inside of you. it was nearly painful from how full you felt. you tried your hardest to convey how you felt, but your words failed you. once more, armin had reduced you to a babbling mess. salty tears stained your skin as you whined out. why couldn’t you speak properly?
“shh, shh, there there angel. i’ve got you.” armin’s voice was sickeningly sweet as he looked down at your fucked out figure. his thumb wiped your tears away as he smiled at you. “there’s no need to cry. i’ve got you, yeah?” he pulled out, causing you to let out a pitiful whine. it wasn’t long before your body was forcing his cum out, trying to rid itself of the feeling of being too full.
his sticky seed dripped from your spent cunt, pooling in the dip of the sheets where your body laid. “angel!” armin’s tone almost seemed slightly hurt. “you can’t waste my cum like this.” he frowned as he took his index and middle finger and scooped some of his cum up on them. he was quick to stuff them back inside of you, making you cry out, your legs twitching. “ungrateful little whore. maybe i ought to fuck you even harder? make you learn to be grateful for what i give you..”
#armin arlert#armin#aot smut#armin arlert smut#armin arlert x reader#armin arlert x reader smut#armin smut#armin aot#aot x reader#armin x reader#snk armin#armin x reader smut#armin x y/n#armin snk#→˚₊·🐚 ੭* r.o.s | a. arlert#↳ saturn drabbles ☄︎. *
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man ok idk if youll be able to advise on this or something but like. do you know anything regarding dealing with like internalised ableism?
i live in a rural part of ireland, right? and idk what it is about rural ireland but some of the people are heinous. my school is in a small miserable-ass town and like. God, man. not everyone sucks, of course but like. jesus lol
additionally i have a ~mildly ableist~ mother (a "we're all a little bit autistic" and "erm. youre not disabled because youre not in a wheelchair or blind/deaf" etc etc type stuff. + "npd = bad person" which isnt particularly good for me specifically because i have npd (that i both Cant get an official diagnosis for, for various reasons, and im not really Looking for one either because i know what i am and its not like you get support for it because ~ooh scary narcissist~.)
and like. idk if this is Obvious but that can kinda cause a weird-ass relationship with You (being Me in this case, yk how it is with the second person perspective when. ranting) and The Concept Of Being Disabled. like, objectively. im disabled. im autistic, ive definitely got adhd (that im hopefully going to get examined for at some point cause college stuff requires it for the disability forums and stuff. gotta love that. fuckin 80% comorbidity right?), ive got a laughable number of repetative strain injuries, i have a sensory processing disorder, an endocrine disease that effects my Entire cardiovascular system, a spine that felt a lil quirky and bent in too much. so on a so forth
but also like. it feels wrong to call myself disabled. yk, like im doing a disservice to all the other ~actually~ disabled people (being Anyone but me lol)
(none of this is At All helped by the fact that my mother refuses to listen to me regarding Jack Shit about my health in Any way. "oh you nearly passed out on top of a hill because of your cardiovascular condition? erm youre just not exercising enough actually" "you dont have depression [said while i was filling out an assigned mood diary after being forcefully brought to camhs for Reasons" like. shut the fuck up and Listen to me please. at least Entertain the idea that i could be right about something for fucking once lmao. cause ive been right about EVERYTHING regarding my mental health so fucking far so. fuck off /nay ofc)
(also man. like, even if you ignored the physical issues ive got im still disabled on account of being autistic. like, motor function is fine, despite being a lil clumsy and/or unsteady sometimes but like. my emotional needs are Fucked. think of the response youd get if you asked a. fuckin. 8 year old or something to do algebra. but with a very emotionally stunted and traumatised 17 year old lol. lmao, even /lh)
so like. if youve got. any advice or whatever on any of this thatd be Super cool
+ no pressure obvs. sorry this is a whole. like. fucking essay's worth of Random Guy Complaining To You On The Internet lol
-🐢 <- just so i can find this again if you respond. i Like Turtles. i am Normal about the tmnt and also turtles The Creatures. i wont talk at length about turtle mutant anatomy (i am deceiving you)
Internalised ableism is a really hard thing to deal with, especially when you're surrounded by people who constantly re-enforce it. I've also spent a lot of time worrying that I'm not disabled 'enough' to deserve certain accommodations, that I'm making an unnecessary fuss. But the truth is, autism IS a disability and if there are accommodations that can help support you, you deserve access to them. You're not taking away from others with disabilities by advocating for yourself.
It's taken me a long time to understand this and I still worry sometimes. What has helped is talking about my experiences with people I know understand, like my therapist or best friend, and learning about the experiences of other autistic people through books, social media, YouTube and even real life.
I'm sorry your mother and others aren't being understanding - remember that's a them problem, not you, and try to spend your time with people who do understand.
🐢🐢🐢 <- the turtles wish you luck
#🐢#ask#anon ask#autism#actually autistic#advice#autistic#autism is a disability#its a spectrum#long post
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alright i’m thinking about this far too much
everyone please read this i spent twenty minutes looking at and analyzing mikes fucking pocket
this is the godforsaken pocket that is depriving me of a healthy sleep schedule. i clearly stole the image from wornontv.net, i simply do not give a shit.
notice that line at the top hem of the pocket, about an inch from where the fabric ends? that’s a line of stitching, from where they folded down the raw edge of the fabric to sew down in order to make a nice clean seam.
line highlighted for clarity, so you can see the approximate location.
notice how none of the other sides have this seam? at the very least, that part is a regular pocket.
this image makes the edge even clearer. this is a regular pocket.
now, as someone just pointed out to me, the triangle bit could still be a separate pocket, validating finn’s whole “i look like an idiot with the sideways pocket”. so let’s look there.
that silver thing COULD be some kind of snap, or it could be something decorative, similar to a kind of stud.
we can see that the snap on the triangle is the same as the snaps at the neckline of his shirt. this means the triangle snaps open.
in this same image, we can also see that there is a shadow at the top of the triangle.
highlighted for clarity as to where i’m talking about.
the pocket opens from at least one side, because it could not be completely sewn down AND have that shadow.
now, this triangle is only sewn down on one side- the very left side of the pocket.
if you look veerrryyy closely, you can see the stitching on that side of the pocket.
in conclusion, it is a regular pocket with what looks like a felt decorative triangle that snaps open but does not create extra pocket space.
the way the fabric folds and creases alongside the triangle is completely normal, HOWEVER, i will revise my initial statement to say that the way it moves at the far right side is NOT normal.
the pocket is flat where the rest of the shirt is not. the main body of the shirt is creasing due to the way he’s holding his arm close to his torso- the pocket is not.
this can mean one of two things.
#1- there is a letter or photograph inside that pocket.
i don’t think it’s a photo, because the dimensions are not correct. i also don’t think it’s a letter, because any paper he would be using to hand write a letter (i’m thinking notebook paper or lined paper) would be very soft and wrinkle greatly in the pocket, causing noticeable creases IN the pocket.
#2, and my guess- interfacing.
interfacing is something that is sewn into fabric in order to make it more stable. it would create the stiffness that we see here, while being invisible to us, because the lines where it was sewn into the pocket would be hidden by the seams where they sewed the pocket to the main body of the garment.
this, however, begs the question WHY did they feel the need to use interfacing in the pocket? my guess is that they’re trying to draw attention to it. (by god, it fuckin worked). think back to the costume designer talking about how she intentionally incorporated triangles into robin’s clothing as further confirmation to her sexuality.
if there was no interfacing, the pocket would move and blend with the garment. WITH the interfacing, it sticks out. you notice it.
think about that.
anyways, fuck this i’m going to bed, i don’t ever want to look at that jacket ever again, and this better have at least a few notes when i wake up because i spent far too long digging every last piece of sewing knowledge out of the crevices of my monkey brain for this analysis to flop. byler endgame, love y’all gn.
#how long has it been since we’ve had new content for me to do this#TOO LONG#stranger things#byler#mike wheeler
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if requests are open, can i request jamie having a lightbulb moment realizing he’s into a male reader who’s very obviously shy/in love with jamie please? it doesn’t have to be that he realizes he likes guys but it could be? if you’re uncomfortable writing mlm relationships you can completely ignore this! no pressure ^_^ thank you!!
thank you for this! i've been itching to write jamie x m!reader! i hope you enjoy <3
"Don't get it, bruv," Isaac grumbles. "You buy 'em flowers, you take them to dinner, and they still won't get the hint. Women are fuckin' complicated."
"Men aren't exactly a walk in the park, are they?" Colin grumbles, his arm around Michael as his boyfriend presses a smiling kiss to his cheek, already familiar with this story. "This guy here spent months, months! Taking me out on dates before I realized we were dating."
"That might just be a you thing, hermano," Dani snickers, the guys laughing with him. "But I agree with Isaac. I always do the same when I have a crush on a girl: I make her a playlist of Mexican baladas and cook recipes from scratch. They never get the hint."
"Open communication is sexy," Michael pipes up behind his beer and murmurs of agreement fill the restaurant.
It's late, close to midnight, but Sam's always lenient enough to lend them the space for as long as they want. Everyone shares their own techniques of conquest: Rich gives them an expensive wine from his personal collection, Van Damme writes them notes about every little thing and leaves them scattered where they can find them, Jan Maas starts reading up on Dutch poetry.
At some point it's Jamie's turn to share, and he shifts a little in his seat at the sudden attention.
"Um, well," he stutters, playing with his napkin and ripping it into small pieces nervously. "I get touchy, I guess? Like, not in a creepy way, I just. More casual contact, you know? Like I'm drawn to them. And I laugh. I laugh a lot. Everything is funny, all of a sudden."
"That's everyone with a crush, though," Colin reasons. "There's gotta be something specific, no? Michael started wearing funny socks when we were dating, for some reason."
His boyfriend pipes up in offense, cheeks coloring. He says something about Colin listening to Britney Spears and binging The Kardashians when in love, which, for some weird ass reason makes sense.
Still, the momentary lapse in conversation isn't enough for the attention to slip off him, and Jamie keeps being badgered for information until he cracks. "Alright, alright! I guess I. I don't know, I. You know how I hate sharing my food. I guess I don't mind much when I'm... you know. In love and shit."
Finally, that's enough for the guys to move on to their next victim, but Jamie's thoughts stay stranded on his own answer. How did he know? He used to share plates with Keeley when they were dating, though his jaw would always clench a little in annoyance whenever she dipped in her fork without asking. It was a sanitary thing, really.
No, it was (Y/N) who sneaked into his mind when he said that. But that's different, ain't it? They've been friends forever, and it's different with guys, right? So what if Jamie doesn't care when he steals some of his chips or when he steals half of his sandwich when they're lazing around at his place? It doesn't have to mean anything.
But less than fifteen minutes ago he'd slapped Moe's hand away when he reached for chin chin out of Jamie's plate. And, like, Moe's his mate, Jamie would go to war for Moe, but still. Still.
"Shit," Jamie says softly to himself, the puzzle pieces inside his brain slipping into place. Again, a little louder. "Shit."
"What's wrong with you?" Isaac nudges his shoulder, quietly, thank God. Jamie can't bear to invite his entire team into his sudden romantic realization.
"Nothin', nothin'," he thinks about afternoons spent with (Y/N) in comfortable silence when everything else in the world was wrong; his mind too mean, the fans too opinionated, his efforts on the pitch not good enough. Fuck, Jamie has been a proper dumbass, hasn't he? "Just- I gotta go. There's somethin' I need to do."
He says his quick goodbyes and pokes his tongue out playfully when it gets a bunch of boos and disappointed whines from the guys. The cold Richmond air hits him full in the face as he leaves Ola's, brows furrowed as he texts.
hey u still up?
Jamie bites his lip as a response comes through seconds later.
yeah? Thought you were out w the boys tonight
His fingers hesitate before pressing down on the screen, fear be damned.
just left
any chance i can come over?
(Y/N)'s texts are quick, casual.
Of course. always
Everything okay?
Against all odds, Jamie smiles. He has a growing suspicion the night might turn out better than he ever hoped.
alls brilliant
ill be there in 20
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