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#looking at all my other wips and just sobbing
is-on-its-way · 2 days
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orison wip
My hc is scully was with child from the ivf and she lost the baby in Orison… I know… Im absolutely not well. 🤗
Shes gone in the morning when he opens his eyes.
He sits up “scully?” he calls out although he doesnt know why. He knows shes gone. 
No answer. 
He gets up and walks around, still nude, to the bathroom, kitchen, and extra room. She’s gone. Long gone. The sink is dry. 
He looks on the dining room table for a note.  they always leave notes. 
It was three words long. 
Mulder, Im sorry 
He let out an audible groan of despair and exasperation. he hadn’t wanted her to regret it and she was. Their first time and she was ashamed. He rubbed his face and got the sleep from his eyes, thinking what the plan was.
He called their office.
No answer.
He dialed again. 
“Hi sir, Is scully with you?”
“No. Why agent Mulder? Skinner said with a sharp tone of warning.
“Sir, were going to need a personal day.”
“Agent mulder! Where is she…” he hears as he pulls the phone away from his ear.
He calls Maggie.
“Hi Fox.” Comes her sing song voice.
“Hi Maggie. Is um… Is scul… is Dana there?
“Yeno.” Then a pause. “Sorry Fox, shes… I haven’t seen her today.”
“Thanks Maggie.” he said, closing his eyes. He exhaled a sigh of relief at finding her so quickly. All of his anxiety, well most of it drained away. He hoped he hadn’t ruined everything by letting himself become her solace. 
“Im coming over. I need to see her.”
“Okay” she said a little quieter. “Bye Fox.”
Hes already pulling on underwear one handed as he tosses the phone on the bed and searches for his shirt and pants in the tangle of clothing on the floor.  
Cringing at the thought of scully ever finding out he’d talked to her mother in the nude with the memory of her still on him. He hadn’t washed after all, just got up, used the toilet, wet a washcloth with warm water, and handed it to her so she could clean herself up before she got up. He’d fallen asleep as she was in the bathroom but he remembered her coming into bed and wrapping her in his arms, whispering its “Its not your fault Dana” as she sobbed into his chest; As he teared up in her hair. 
Maggie opens door and lets him in. 
Scully’s sitting on the couch looking worse for wear, face pink and puffy and blank. Unreadable for a moments that feel like eons. But then her face softens, and his own melts from apprehension to he meet her with the same expression. 
Maggie interrupts their silent communication glancing from one to the other.
“Ill be upstairs I have to get back to the laundry.” She says gently. Retreating without either of them glancing at her. 
Mulder stood in his spot leaning against the molding of the living room entry. Waiting for her to speak.
“My mom is not good at stealthy stuff” she said finally. 
“I would’ve come anyway if she was” he chanced a small smile at her.
She gave him a tense smile back “ of course you would.”
“You think you can just leave bc youre ashamed? How many times have i been embarrassed in front of you? We’re past that Scully.”
“This is different”  she said in a quiet whistful voice as she looked away from him to the sky outside the windows.
He went to her, he could no longer hold himself at the distance he knew she wanted. 
Instead he knelt down on the floor in front of the couch at her knees. He whispered her name like a secret word, like a prayer, like it was the most sacred word in the world. He leaned against the couch hands itching to touch her. But waiting for her to find his face. 
“Dana” he said again with the same reverence. She closed her eyes and turned to face him. When she opened them it was a revelation. His heart compressed as if squeezed in his chest. And he felt a wave of emotion crash over him. 
He found her hand in her lap and wove his fingers through hers. Playing with them like he’d done a hundred times before. 
“You told me, you said you didnt want me to regret it.”
“Do you regret it?” He tried his damndest to not let the cold chill of panic flooding his spine show on his face or in his voice. He knew it would be no use she knew him.
She looked at him, sorrow on her face and he prepared for the worst. 
“Not you” she reached a hand to his cheek. 
“I regret how I did it. Why I did it”
“I couldn’t see your face and put on a smile this morning when you woke up.”
“I don’t need a smile scully I don’t need anything other than who you are.”
A tear fell down her cheek off her chin and into their hands. 
“Dana” he said and leaned his forehead to hers. “Our baby” he managed, before his voice failed him.
He choked back a sob.
“I didnt realize how much love I would have even before…” he said his voice shaking. As he found her face with his hand and held onto her as if she were a life raft.
“Oh mulder” she called out in a high pitched desperate cry as sobs shook her body. He wrapped his arms around her and they cried together and touched together and kissed and held each other. Away from everything and everyone. A family for a moment in time. A family forever. 
@today-in-fic 🖤🤍
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non-un-topo · 1 year
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Time to shift into academic mode and close all my fun tabs ;_; (ao3, google docs, research I was trying to cram in so I could write a short fic before the semester.... rip)
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fettuccin-e · 1 year
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Right Here, Right Now
Kinktober Day 2: Public
Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl omg please), public sex, fingering, its just desperate sex with Mig in an alleyway lol (w/c: 1.3K)
A/N: I have actually had this as a WIP for a long, long time but I modified it to fit this prompt! Glad to finally get some use out of it. Miguel can and will always have me in a chokehold I love him so so much. (I am following prompts from this list by flightlessangelwings!)
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You’ve both been apart for too long, far too fucking long. Always away on missions without each other, falling asleep without each other and leaving again with only a quick kiss goodbye, nothing more.
It’s got Miguel a little stir crazy, desperate, and you’re just the same way. So, on the odd mission where you’re actually together, you don’t protest when he crowds you against a brick wall in some dark, dank alleyway, and kisses the god damn life out of you. It’s intoxicating, mind-melting, and fuck, it’s not enough for either of you. 
Miguel growls against your mouth, reaching a clawed hand to the seam of your suit, and rips it, exposing the wetness of your aching pussy to the cool night air. He cups you without any finesse, just pure need, and you gasp wetly into his kiss.
“Miguel,” you whine, but you can’t stop your hips from humping forward into his hand, “we can’t— we can’t, baby, they’re going to start looking for us, oh fuck, they’re gonna see—“
“Shh,” he coos, “just real quick, real quick, sweetheart.” His chest heaves, so broad and thick and clouding your vision as he rubs quick circles into your achy clit with a calloused finger.
“Just- just let me feel you, just for a second, please, baby, mi amor, por favor, tan perfecta, te necesito,” he mumbles, lost in it, and you find yourself nodding along with his words.
He whines at your permission, and you barely manage to utter a “just for a second, just a second, Miguel,” before his suit dissipates around the bulge of this thick cock, and he’s sinking into you, pressing so fucking deep he forces the air from your lungs.
“Fuck, baby,” he breathes into the crook of your neck, his hips stuttering forward as he stretches your pussy around him. “There’s my perfect girl, my beautiful girl, fuck, fuck, missed this pussy so bad, baby.”
It’s hard to breathe like this, Miguel pressing you into the brick wall, curling around you until all you know is him. All you know is the way his scent invades your lungs, the way his fangs graze your throat just barely. The way he pulls his hips back, just a little bit, before shoving forward again, bullying his thick cock so fucking deep inside your little cunt. You can’t get out the words, the sensations all too much for you to bear. There hasn’t been any prep, anything to lead up to you taking Miguel like you usually do. 
No, there's only the adrenaline coursing through your bodies, the desperation stemming from being apart for far too long, and the ache of him settling deep, deep inside you. It’s where you both belong.
So you stutter out aborted little whines of “Mig- Miguel,” and “so-so big,” between overwhelmed sobs into his strong body as he holds you, impaling you on him again and again. He’s mumbling, incessant and slurred as he fucks you into the brick, something about how hot you are, how wet and tight and about how he can’t wait to get you home, how he’s going to fuck you for days. It’s all so hard to understand, you’re not even sure that Miguel knows what he’s saying, if he even wants you to hear all of the deep, dark thoughts spilling from his overwhelmed mouth.
Your body burns, the coarse hair at the base of his cock rubbing at your clit so perfect, so right. It’s all slick and wet and you’re sure that you’re dripping down his fat cock as it slides in and out of you, dripping down his balls. You can at least thank God that his suit isn’t made out of actual fabric; that he won’t have to return to HQ with your wetness staining his front. Not that he’d really mind.
It’s intoxicating, the way he fills you, surrounds you. So much so that you don’t realize how much time has passed until you hear Jessica’s voice from both of your watches, cutting through your whines and Miguel’s growls and the lewd sounds of your bodies meeting. “O’Hara, what’s your position?”
“Fuck,” he snarls, driving into you just a little faster, a little harder, “fuck, not yet, not yet.” He doesn’t respond to Jess, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss that mostly contains teeth and spit.
“Mig-Miguel, they’re going to be looking, c’mon, baby, we’ve got to g-” you hiccup into his mouth, but your hips move of their own accord, meeting him thrust for thrust as he drives desperately into you.
“Not. Yet.” He growls, punctuating his words with his hips. “Just a little longer, little- little longer, jus’ let me-” he fucks himself into you, so furious and devastating that tears finally manage to spill from your eyes.
“Spiderman 2099, what is your position?” Jessica asks again, and you can hear Pavitr ask you the same thing from your watch, both oblivious to the fact that their leader, your leader, is fucking you into the wall in some dirty back alley in a universe that neither of you know, that neither of you care to know. All you know is Miguel’s body against yours, exchanging desperate breaths as he thrusts deep into your sticky pussy, curling your hands into his hair as he digs his fingers into your waist, his claws nearly tearing the fabric of your suit.
“Miguel,” you moan, “we have to go, please we have to go, they’re looking for us, they’re gonna see-”
“No,” Miguel whines, and you want to fall to your knees with how absolutely devastated he sounds, “can’t- you can’t go, ‘s too soon, baby, let me have you, let me have you,” he’s slurring around his fangs, his eyes burning red at the edges as his eyes meet yours. He grabs at the watch on your wrist, cutting it off with a deft claw, and you choke on your spit as he crushes it easily in his palm. 
“Miguel-” you start, but he cups a thick hand over your mouth, and you can only watch as he raises his watch to his face and says, far more collected than he’s been this entire night, “Anomaly neutralized, returning to HQ. Meet tomorrow for a debrief.”
“Not tonight?” Pav chirps, and Miguel ruts into you hard, his gaze burning into yours.
“Tomorrow.” He growls, before he shuts his watch off completely, tucking his face into the crook of your neck again, sucking dark marks into your skin. His hands find your hips once again, pulling you onto his cock over and over and over as tears slide down your cheeks, choked little moans ripping out of your throat.
“That’s right, beautiful, squeeze this cock, make a mess for me. Can’t wait to get you home, going to fuck you all fucking night, needed this sweet pussy so fucking bad, bebita, por favor, ah-” he groans into your skin, and his cock sinks into you so perfect, stretching you exactly how you’ve needed it for so long, and fuck, your orgasm nearly makes you black out. You thrash against the wall, crying out so loud that Miguel has no choice but to seal his mouth over yours in a sticky kiss, swallowing your noises. 
“Fuck, that’s right, make a mess for me, eres tan perfecta, mi amor, mi vida, fuck,” he fucks into you, once, two more times, before he’s following you over that peak, his hips twitching as he fills you up.
You both can only rock against each other for a minute, riding the aftershocks of bliss. How had you gone without this for so long? How could you have deprived yourself of heaven?
“Let’s go home, Miguel,” you whisper, resting your forehead against his. He nods, switching his watch back on and opening a portal behind himself. He slips out of you, his suit reforming over himself. You, unfortunately don’t have the same luxury, the night air still cool against your used and achy core. 
“You’re making me a new suit, by the way,” you say, tilting your head up to smile at him. “And a new watch.”
He only chuckles, lifting you into his arms, turning to walk you both into your shared apartment in Nueva York, where you haven't been together in too damn long. “Anything you want.”
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doll-for-you-11 · 6 months
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Fantasy I can't stop thinking about:
I slip on a short skirt and crop top. I just got rejected and need to get some validation of men stating at my ass. I walk around and take a few different trains in random directions.
Almost every guy ive passed has either blatantly stared, or catcalled and Im feeling better about myself. Ready to go home, I realize I don't know what train Im on, and Ive never been to the station we're approaching.
The train is basically empty. Theres one guy accross from me, but he's ignored me most of the time so I feel fine. I stand to wait at the doors for when we stop. Feeling him stand and get very close. I try to step forward but theres no space. "Theres no running bitch". I freeze unable to get away. I feel his hand on my hip, rising to my chest, groping me as he grinds against me, pressing me to the door.
As we stop I see other people on the platform and sigh hoping he'll stop when the doors open and I can run. As the doors open I try to take a step but am stopped by a hand grabbing my ponytail. Getting dragged off the subway by my hair. My clothes ripped off as Im being degraded and abused. The man that grabbed me loudly saying disgusting, humiliating things as he drags me along like a ragdoll.
By the time he gets me to the middle of the platform, Im naked and sobbing. A crowd gathering around, all the men who have been "working late" and the creeps stalking the subway for new prey.
He throws me to the ground, laughing as I try to crawl away. Wrenching me back again by my hair, as I scream out in pain. Looking around hoping someone will help, but all I see are buldges and hungry eyes.
He wips me around, slapping me, threatening my life if he feels any teeth as he pulls his cock out, shoving it all the way down my throat as I violently gag around him. "Fucking good little whore, take it".
You moan as you wrap your hand in my hair and begin to face fuck me so harshly my lips and throat are bruised before I even run out of breath. Drool and precum pour down my chin, dripping onto my tits turning them into a shiny, sticky mess. You fuck my throat like you're trying to destroy any brain cells I might have left. I feel your hot cum spew down my throat. You hold your cock balls deep telling me to swallow, but I gag, dripping some onto my already dripping tits. You rip your cock out and slap me accross the face, throwing me to the edge of the crowd.
I look up at the man in front of me and he just laughs, kicking me back towards you and following, pulling his belt off as he goes. I feel your hand come from behind me, gripping my throat and pulling me to my knees as the other man binds my wrists with his belt. My mind is still reeling from your raping of my throat, I dont even fight back and you remove your own belt, pushing my face down into the other mans still clothed crotch.
He humps my face, humiliating me as the crowd laughs. He holds my head down as you begin whipping my ass with your belt. Im trying to get away as I scream in pain, but he's too strong. You ask the crowd for a number, someone yells 50 and you tell me to count. It hurts so bad I lose track and you restart again and again and again until my ass is black and blue and my eyes have clouded over from the pain, my tears soaking the mans pants.
He flips me over onto my back, pulling out his hard cock and straddling my head. He slaps me with his cock, his pre cum joining the streaks of mascara on my cheeks before forcing himself down my throat and pushing down with his full weight sitting on my face, grinding his hips as his cock fills my windpipe.
Struggling to breathe I dont notice your belt trailing up my legs until you whip my cunt with it. I jump, forcing his cock impossibly deeper as I choke and panic. You altrinate between my pussy and tits, whipping harder and harder as I writhe, my hands pinned and bound under me, the other man on my face.
He pinches my nose and laughs as I begin to lose consciousness. Just as I'm about to black out he pulls me upright and savagely fucks my throat, pulling out to coat my face in his hot sticky cum. I cough and sputter but before I'm able to catch my breath you're pushing my face into the ground and ramming balls deep into my cunt. Using my hair as a handle you pull me to my knees.
The other man sucking and biting my nipples. Groping my bruised tits hard enough you can see his finger prints. "Look at you, you disgusting cum dump. Your cunt is dripping, theres a fucking puddle under you and you want to act like you didn't want this? That cunt is an open invitation when it drips like that." He slaps me, rubs my clit, slaps me with his cock and fucks my tits all while youre animalistically fucking my dripping pussy.
You join in growling in my ear. "Little bitch thinks it can get on the fucking train wearing a skirt that barely covers its ass and not get used? You that stupid you little whore? Or did you want this? Huh? Was this what you wanted? Get raped and ruined in front of a crowd ? Put on a little show? Yeah?" You fuck me harder and faster, my eyes rolling back as I cum around you harder than I ever have before.
"Did you just fucking cum?" The man abusing my tits asks. "Did you just cum from getting raped? Are you that much of a dirty rape whore?" You pull out throwing me to the ground as the other man pulls me on top of him pushing me down on his cock and thrusting up using my tits as handles to slam me up and down painfully.
You get behind me pulling my hair and whisper in my ear "we're gonna see just how disgusting of a cunt you really are". You ram your cock into my virgin asshole with no preparation besides the slick from my cunt already on your cock, matching the other man in speed as you thrust in and out, your cocks stretching me out like a used fleshlight.
The pain shocks me enough that my jaw drops in a silent scream, my eyes rolling back as my body goes limp. My mind shutting off as I become a living sex doll. You reach around harshly rubbing my clit. I scream as I arch against you cumming, but you keep rubbing my sore oversensitive clit. Making cum non stop over and over. My whole body shaking uncontrollably.
I hear laughter and see other people recording and jacking off. It feels like forever before you both cum and you stop rubbing my clit. Your seed flooding inside of me as you both groan in satisfaction. You pull out and I whine at the feeling before you pull me off of the other man and toss me to the ground.
I can barely open my eyes but I begin to feel something falling on me and look up to see the crowd gathering closer, coating me in cum and piss as I lay broken on the platform.
I feel disgusted with myself, how could I have cum from that? But I can't help but moan as I feel the cum dripping from both holes and the showers of it coating my body. Soon enough I feel more hands on me, I hear men saying what I know are disgusting perverted things but I can't make it out.
The sun is starting to come up by the time they all finish with me. Im too broken to move, but some part of me is okay with it. After all, If I stay here, they'll know where to find me when they want to use me again.
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intoxicated-chan · 8 months
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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐌𝐞
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Summary ➳ You and Daryl have been sneaking around your brother’s back, even more when he isn’t home. But your brother begins to become suspicious and worried, even more when Shane gives him a good idea of the guy you’ve been hiding from him.
(A/n) ➳ I’ve decided to make my last post have a third part, I’m not sure if you guys are a big fan of reading long works. This isn’t my favorite works but hopefully you guys like it. P.S, REQUEST FOR THE TWD S1-3 ARE OPEN!! Read rules firsts! You can also check out my oncoming worms coming soon, expect the series ones. They might take awhile.
Word Count ➳ 1.5k
Content Warnings ➳ Female Reader, Season 2-3 Daryl/MODERN AU, angst-to fluff? Swearing, sexual content, overstimulation, protective sex, pet names (Darlin’, good girl, sunshine), biting (once), little blood, nonconsensual photo taking (Shane), swearing, mentions of a criminal investigation…
My The Walking Dead WIP
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You clutched Daryl’s shirt as he relentlessly pounded into you. Your eyes rolled back, arching your back as moans escaped your lips.
Daryl gritted his teeth, his brows furrowing as he inhaled sharply. He panted heavily over you, holding onto your hips tightly..
Your body felt uncomfortably hot, the cracked window kept you cool. The winter breeze leaves goosebumps across your sweaty skin. Your thighs shook, you found it difficult to focus on one thing without Daryl taking you out of your thoughts with his cock.
You spoke incoherently, begging him to go harder, as if he wasn’t fucking you so hard that the headboard was slamming against the wall. He was a little surprised that no one came knocking to complain.
“D-Daryl!” You sobbed, tears falling from corners of your eyes.
He chuckled at your state, just moments ago, you were bragging on how you could take him for hours and hours with no break. You should really think before you speak.
“C’mom, use ya words.” Daryl teased you. “Beg for it darlin’.”
You let out a frustrated whine. “M-My brother is going to be home any second!” Daryl rolled his eyes, stopping his movements and pulled out. You whined again. “Daryl-”
“Quiet.” He hushed you. Daryl flipped you over, using one hand to push your head into the pillow and the other to grip your hip. He leaned down, his hot breath tickling your ear. “Words.”
“Just fuck me Daryl!” You cried out, now holding onto the pillow for dear life.
Daryl chuckled. “Good girl.” Then he slammed right back inside of you.
Your loud moans were muffled against the pillow, you shut your eyes at the overwhelming feeling. The coil in your stomach is growing, nearly unbearable. Even more when he’s pounding into that spot deep inside of you.
The sound of muffled moans, Daryl’s hushed grunts, and skin slapping was all that was heard… Besides the loud headboard.
You’re squeezing around him, it was pure bliss. Daryl bit into your shoulder so hard that he could taste blood.
You were on edge, it was almost to the point of hurting. Daryl could feel you clenching around him, he knew.
He too was about to come with a couple of hard and fast thrusts. “Daryl- I’m goin’-” You felt your entire body shake as Daryl came along with you as well.
You gasped when he slowly pulled himself off of you, you felt dizzy and breathless. Your heart pounded as you felt light headed.
Daryl slipped off the condom and tied it, tossing it into your little trash can. He came back to your side, his hand running over your back. “Can ya move?” You give him a slight nod.
That’s when you heard the front door opening and closing. Your heart dropped and you looked at Daryl with wide eyes.
“(Y/n)?!” Rick called out, you could hear Carl’s laughter running through the house. “Are you home?”
His only point of escape was your window… You pushed Daryl with whatever strength you had left. “Go, go.” You whispered. “Before Rick sees you.”
“Ya kiddin’ me.”
“I ain’t.” Giving him another push. “Rick is an officer, who knows what he’ll do to you when you’re caught.”
“I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Daryl grinned, ear to ear. “‘Cause I ain’t done with ya yet.”
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“I don’t know, (Y/n)’s been actin’ suspicious ever since last night.” Rick ran his hand through his hair, holding his hot cup of coffee in the other. “I heard her stutterin’, refusin’ to get out of her room…”
“I think it’s obvious.” Shane replied, sitting next to him, watching over Carl who played in the yard. Rick looked at him curious. “She’s hidin’ someone. A man.”
“...No.” Rick shook his head. “She wouldn’t, she’d tell me if she was at least interested in someone.”
Shane scoffed at him. “When’s the last time (Y/n) told you she was seein’ someone? Or tell you anythin’ else about her life?”
Rick was ready to retort but he took a moment. When was the last time you told him anything? It would’ve been years ago…
He sighed, taking a small sip of his coffee. “...Who would she be seein’? Have you seen the people ‘round here?”
Shane begins to count with his fingers. “There’s Travis a block over… Matt-”
“The creep Matt or the mailman Matt?” Bringing his cups to his lips.
“Mailman Matt… Annie… Daryl-”
Rick choked on his coffee. “Daryl? As in Daryl Dixon? The one who’s place of work is under investigation?”
“Yeah, the guy has been ridin’ out ‘ere often.” Shane chuckled louder as he saw Rick’s horrified face. “He parks his bike a couple of blocks over. Makin’ sure no one sees ‘im.”
“How the hell you know this?”
“Who do you think brings you home after a night out?”
Rick groaned, setting his coffee down on the porch. “You thinkin’ to catch them screwin’?”
“No, I’m thinkin’ to catchin’ Daryl leavin’.” Shane leaned in closer. “Act like nothin’s wrong. You’re workin’ all night thursday, I have a feelin’ that Dixon is gonna pay a visit.”
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“I keep warnin’ you Daryl.” You huffed, crossing your arms as Daryl sat on his bike. “You’re goin’ to get yourself into trouble with Rick.”
“Ya worried for me sunshine?” Daryl snickered, putting on his jacket. “Think Imma get hauled away?”
“Daryl-” He grabbed you by the collar of your shirt to bring you closer to him, placing a quick kiss on your lips.
“Quit yer worrin’, ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to me.” Daryl sat back as the bike roared. “I’ll see ya soon.” Its distinctive hum of the motor loudly echoed.
You playfully rolled your eyes and waved him off, standing on the sidewalk as he rode away. You continued to watch until he was no longer in sight, you turned back to the house you shared with Rick, walking to the front door.
Minutes later, Shane looked over the photo taken of Daryl kissing you. He sighed, disappointed that his suspicions were right. You could’ve chosen any other person to sleep with, why did it have to be Daryl Dixon.
Shane knew that Rick wasn’t going to be happy with this news, he had to come up with a way to approach it with him.
He comes home in five minutes.
Rick was expecting to pass Daryl on the way home, but with his car window down to feel the warm breeze of Georgia’s summer, he heard a distant hum of a motorcycle.
He muttered no on his way, muttering no as he parked, no as Shane approached him, and no as he was handed Shane’s phone to show the photo taken.
He took a minute to breath and collect his thoughts, thinking of various ways to approach you about this. Once his mind was set, he took one deep breath and entered your room.
Rick looked around first, nothing seemed to be out of place, except new bedsheets.
You eyed your brother, confused on why he’s looking around your room. “Are you okay Rick?” You asked him, sitting up on your headboard.
“You ain’t gonna lie to me when I ask you somethin’. You ain’t gonna dodge the question, and you sure as hell ain’t gonna say that the woman in the photo kissing Daryl ain’t you.”
“Rick-” He shoved his phone into your hands, showing the said photo. Your heart dropped, it caught the perfect view.
“You gonna say anythin’?”
You looked back at the phone and Rick, handing it to him. “I’ve been seeing him for a couple of weeks.” You admitted.
“Where did you meet him?”
“The bar-”
“Which?”
“Does it really matter?” You picked at your lips, trying to keep eye contact. “Look, I’m sorry that I’ve been sleeping with him behind your back.”
Rick ran a hand over his face, taking a moment to process. “...I ain’t gonna stop you. But that means you can deal with the consequences. I sometimes be forgettin’ you’re grown.” You knew when he turned his head, he was stopping himself from crying.
You gasped, rushing over to Rick. “C’mon Rick! Don’t cry on me, I should be the one beggin’!”
He wiped his eyes and faced you again, collected. He placed his hands on your shoulders. “The brothers are known to get deep into shit. They got terrible reputations.”
“Rick-”
“Don’t say you love him.” Rick cut you off. “Love ain’t gonna always enough, understand?”
“…Yeah.”
“Go see him again, decide if this is what you want.”
“But I already decided.” You replied. “I know what I want, and it’s to continue whatever I have with Daryl.”
Rick took a moment before nodding. “Okay, okay. If this is what you want then I ain’t stoppin’ you.” He gave you a quick hug before leaving your room.
You looked him in the eye and said what you thought was right for you. Why was the doubt creeping in now? After weeks screwing Daryl behind your brother’s back, why now?
“Is this all a mistake?”
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© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.
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steddielations · 1 year
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Dom Steve Fic Recs
Strange as Angels (soft dom steve) by @munsonkitten
Eddie hasn't been able to get himself off in months, and now he's high, sweaty, and horny, thinking about the very man sitting in his room in nothing but a wife beater and a pair of tiny athletic shorts, and he thinks he might die. Steve notices. Of course, Steve fucking notices, what, with all the squirming Eddie's doing. Steve offers to help get Eddie off. As friends do. (As long as those friends are completely in love with each other.)
Like The Hero Who Never Ran (dom awakening series) by callmejude
While Steve and Dustin are searching for survivors, they're surprised to find Eddie alive, hiding out in Rick's cabin. Steve takes up the task of caring for him while staying in his trailer.
Genius Loci (dom bottom, magic steve) by @sayesayes
It’s 1986, and Steve falls in love with a boy who is leaving. It’s 1990, and Eddie comes back home. The fic where Steve is a selectively mute, homesteading, truck-driving witch with head injuries and also somehow it's canonverse.
(Don't) cream your pants (soft dom steve awakening series) by @corrodedbisexual
“Don’t know how to cream your pants, huh?” Steve asks, unable to conceal a smirk. He hears a quiet whine as Eddie seems to try and make himself disappear inside the couch. “Want me to show you how?”
Gilded (dom steve, blindfolds, ice play) by @cheshiredogao3
Steve and Eddie are looking forward to a weekend all to themselves, but it doesn’t go as planned.
Trouble Looks Good On You (wip, spanking, kink discovery) by me indelicate
It happens like a fever dream. The first time Steve gives Eddie a swift smack on the ass, it’s obviously just an old jock habit that’s stuck with him. It wasn’t meant to have Eddie’s knees going weak, or turn his blood hot under his skin, or give him a brand in the shape of Steve Harrington’s hand, or— Nope, because Eddie’s not even into that. But then, it happens again. Or, Steve keeps accidentally awakening Eddie’s new kinks.
You Make Me Feel Like I Am Whole Again (wip, dom top and dom bottom steve) by @munsonkitten
Eddie has never felt like his body belongs to him. It gets worse after he's nearly mauled to death, left with scars and healing wounds, a lopsided chest, and more trauma stacked on top of everything already wrong with him. Steve Harrington finds out Eddie's trans by accident after the bats, and Eddie finds out Steve's surprisingly okay with it. More than okay with it.
Bite Through These Wires (soft dom steve's strap game series 🤭) by @steves-strapcollection
“Wouldn’t you be Ken, though?” Steve had hoped Eddie would ask a question like that and he had to refrain from punching the air and ruining his punchline. “I come with all the coolest accessories, so clearly I’m still Barbie,” Steve retorted, his voice going just a bit deeper as he leaned closer to Eddie.
Relax (Lay it Back) (soft dom yoga instructor steve) by @wynnyfryd
Five times yoga instructor Steve teaches Eddie how to chill the fuck out, and the one time he learns his lesson.
Melt Me On Your Tongue (soft dom, bathing) by me indelicate
“This okay?” “Yeah it’s— shit, it’s more than okay, Steve.” “… you’re crying, Eds.” Eddie can’t hold back a choked off noise then, somewhere between an overwhelmed laugh and a sob. “No one’s ever done this to me before.” He doesn’t know if he means no one’s ever given him a bath, or braided his hair, or just any of the things Steve does for him, really. Eddie's never had a Steve before.
Kiss Me (Beneath the Milky Twilight) (pleasure dom steve, virgin eddie) by @gorgeousgreymatter-x
Eddie has never been kissed. Steve apparently would very much like to volunteer to fix this.
Getting Lost in the Dark is My Favorite Part (wip, masochist virgin eddie, kink discovery) by queerontilmorning
After his near-death experience, Eddie decides it's time to get rid of his pesky virginity and heads to a gay bar. It leads to some... realizations... for both him and Steve.
You're a Sweet Shot of Kerosene (When I Threw it Back, it Poisoned Me) (wip, mob boss steve) by @gorgeousgreymatter-x
Whatever fucked up shit Eddie’s father had inadvertently roped him into simply by being what he was — a shit-stain excuse for a sperm donor who preferred sticking a needle in his arm to taking care of his family — well, Eddie’s pretty sure it’s about to be him that pays that price. And maybe Eddie’s delirious, because by the time it’s apparently his turn and they’re dragging him down some hallway (and yeah, it’s not like Eddie’s not trying to put up a fight, but it feels almost performative at this point considering he’s pretty much hogtied here), the only real thought he has when they deposit him on yet another cold, wet tile floor is this: Uncle Wayne is gonna be so pissed at me if I get shot in the head tonight.
closer to you (soft dom steve) by @natesfwl
“C’mon baby, where's my little rockstar?” Steve spanks him, groans when he feels Eddie tense up around him from the impact, “Perform for me.” “You let me penetrate you” Eddie stutters out the line as he lifts himself up with his knees. “There you go,” Steve whispers, watching as Eddie fights to keep his eyes locked onto Steve’s when he sinks back down. or the really self-indulgent fic of steddie fucking to the song closer by NIN.
Destroy The Silence (drummer steve) by @artaxlivs
Steve becomes the drummer for Corroded Coffin and Eddie can't handle his thirst
Trouble and Temptation (series wip, businessman dilf steve) by @heartharps
“Come on, Harrington. I’d lay you badly but I’d lay you gladly.” When Steve looked up, he was glaring, as stern and serious as ever. “Eddie, let me remind you that as far as I'm concerned, nothing has ever happened between us other than of a professional nature.”
Sting, and Other Brainworms (series with switching) by @riality-check
“Do you need to go down, baby?” Eddie gets like this, sometimes. Stuck between overwhelmed and incredibly bored. Steve watches until he remembers that they have a way to fix this. Eddie calls it a hard reset. Steve calls it fucking him until he can’t see straight.
Edification (sadist steve) by aristal
“Alright Munson.” She bares her teeth and grins like a wolf. “Tell the class: what’s your biggest sexual fantasy?” A slow smile creeps into his features, and his dark eyes flash. “Oh, you’re asking the good questions, Wheeler.” He takes another long pull of his joint, dragging the moment out for dramatic effect. Steve doesn’t care. He wants to know the answer. He needs to know. Eventually, Eddie blows out the smoke, eyes a little hazy as he grins at the ceiling. “I’ve always liked the idea of being slapped around and choked in someone’s car.”
In My Boxers, Half Stoned (dom bottom Steve) by eddywow
"You can," Eddie said, almost sounding like he was nodding along to his words. The image was too pure for Steve. "You could say anything you want to me and I'd- I think I'd be into it. Because I saw your pics and like, I know your face isn't in them but- but I really like them. Is it okay that I liked them?"
Insatiable (public, skirts, cages) by @cheshiredogao3
When their club ritual is rudely interrupted, Steve and Eddie make a point of proving their bond—rather publicly.
Done Deal (series with switching) by @morningberriesao3
Steve Harrington doesn't have any money with him, so he offers to pay Eddie Munson some other way.
Lovebite (sub vampire eddie) by hellcore
It shouldn’t feel so good, being tasted.
* The next few don't have the tag but in my opinion they have dom Steve vibes and I want to include them here (:
Cyclical (wip, time loop fic, rimming, switching, lots of smut with plot) by @cuips-not-cute
steve keeps finding himself back in the boathouse where everything started, wrapped up in the arms of a boy who can’t stop dying. he's desperate to rewrite the timeline, trying everything he can think of to fix it. including falling in love.
Dirty Words by @morningberriesao3
Steve gives Eddie a lesson on dirty talk, but things start to get carried away.
Memorize My Number, That's Why I Got A Phone (phone sex) by queerontilmorning
while on tour with Corroded Coffin, Eddie makes an important phone call to Steve.
My Right Hand Man (spanking, kink discovery) by @entanglednow
In which movie night takes an unexpected turn, and it's surprisingly easy to just let it happen.
Shot Right Through (pierced eddie) by @entanglednow
Steve overhears a conversation between Eddie and Robin, and then spends a few weeks trying to think of anything else.
Pleased To Meet You (demon steve) by midnightdrive
Eddie accidentally summons a demon who is bound to fulfill his every wish. He, somehow, gets more than he had bargained for.
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uplatterme · 2 years
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a/n: i can’t title this. my wip list literally has it as “haitham gets scammed by dori ft. aphrodisiac”
cw: sub!alhaitham, dom!gn!reader | handjob, cockpolishing, usage of aphrodisiac, crying
————
“haitham? are you alright?” you ask out of worry, the scribe trembling as he uses the door frame to support himself.
you quickly go to him to help him out, but a slight touch of skin makes you flinch due to how warm he is. although, that doesn’t compare to the noise that abrupts out of his throat.
“dearest?” you question him again, only to get yourself pinned to the wall.
he presses himself on your body, grinding in a soft and slow rhythm. he tears up, muttering quiet apologies as he continues his movement.
“what’s wrong?”
“s-sorry…” he holds onto your body, desperately trying to get himself off. each friction has him tensing up that the more he does it, the more it seems like he’s edging himself rather than getting that release that he wants.
he pants, breathless. you’re unsure if he’s even sane enough to know what he’s doing.
you put your arms around him, helping him out as he continues to fuck himself on your thigh. his legs are unstable, shaking as if there’s an earthquake happening.
“p-please. need to cum…” he cries out, sobbing. his cock aches, outlining itself from the outside of his pants.
next thing alhaitham knows, his back is on the soft cushion of your bed. it didn’t take much work, considering his body is as frail as a historical artifact right now.
alhaitham’s lower half is so wet to the point you’re half-convinced that the man had cum outside before even getting here. his cock is twitching, and as your warm fingers envelop him, alhaitham whimpers, cumming instantly.
“my scribe, what exactly have you gotten yourself into?”
“drank…something—hn!” the scholar finds himself sensitive, too sensitive, no matter how minimal your touches are.
he grips the messed up sheets of the bed, unable to contain how his body reacts. he keeps telling his brain to stop, that it’s embarrassing how he’s spread out like this, under your mercy.
he wants you to stop looking at him as if you’re going to devour him whole like a wild beast…
“more….” he begs.
ah, is there even a point of him lying to himself?
“needy today, aren’t we? you said you had work to do…and now you’re here.” you tease.
“it’s not me…it’s because of that damn wine…” he breathes out, he feels you quickening your face and his body shrivels up into another orgasm.
“really. so why is it that instead of getting the antidote, you come to me instead?”
the pleasure is getting to his head. it’s almost as if you’re inside his brain, knowing exactly what he’s thinking.
“i…” he doesn’t see himself winning, even if he decides to think of something to say.
“using such a thing to your advantage. how irresponsible, my scribe.”
you play with the tip of his cock, your thumb slipping on his slit. he drowns in the sensation, all coherent thoughts leaving him.
he didn’t—he swears that he didn’t plan it to end up like this. he was just tricked by that damn merchant!
why didn’t he go get the antidote?
as your finger continues to polish his cock, his body quivers, wanting to curl up and away from the touch. he’s so close—god, he’s gonna cum. he doesn’t want to—he does—no—yes—please!
your other hand keeps him still, forcing him to endure and to not resist the overwhelming satisfaction that you’re giving him.
you’re going to break him. reduce his mind into nothing but a mindless puddle, nothing that the kind of scholar he proudly presents himself as.
he sobs even harder as he reaches another climax. he hears you laugh.
“you’re fine, my pretty baby. i’ll take such good care of you. don’t worry.”
“o-okay.” he responds with a grin.
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𝒌𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 | 𝒋.𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓
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𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈:  boston era! joel miller x f!reader
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 2.6k
𝒂/𝒏: i woke up at 5am this morning and smashed this out rather than working on any of my other numerous wips ~ no beta (or edit), we die like men - minors do not interact.
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 18+ ~ sex work, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex (wrap it kids), slightly coercive behaviour, dirty talk (joel miller has a filthy mouth), creampie, mentions of drug dealing & murder (joel is a drug dealing murderer but that's canon so it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone), possessive!joel, kinda mean joel, joel is a tease, degrading language (whore, multiple times), idk i think that's everything
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: pleasure has a price and Joel is willing to pay whatever it takes to have you
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ⇢
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Joel often heard talk from the other smugglers, of pretty girls that’d sink to their knees for a few ration cards or a couple of pills. He pretends not to, but he listens, acting like he couldn’t care less about their sordid activities. 
“What about you Miller? You don’t fancy a visit to one of our girls?” Some ratty 20-something asks one day. Joel just rolled his eyes.
“You really think I’d pay for some whore you’ve all had your dicks in?” His disgust is false, an act. In truth, he’s no better than them, couldn’t care less how many guys a woman has fucked before him. 
Besides he’s got Tess. 
Except now he doesn’t. Doesn’t have a warm body to sink into, to fuck his stress out on. She’d cut him off, rightfully so, when she implied she wanted more and he continued to offer her exactly the same. 
So when a comment is made in passing one night: “You hear Danny’s girls got into the whoring business?” His ears perk up. 
He knows Danny, knew Danny, before Danny was resting not entirely in peace. If you were to ever leave the QZ and see a guy who looks an awful lot like Danny but, say, had mushrooms for eyes, no you didn’t. 
Tess had been the one to deliver the bad news to you while Joel had stood uncomfortably in the hallway, listening to your broken sobs through the door. 
Maybe that’s why Joel finds himself knocking at your door, long after curfew, just returned from a run where he’d listened to those arseholes describe in great detail how they’d be paying you a visit, all while Joel kept his back to them, hiding the hardness in his jeans as he’d pictured what he’d do to you himself. He really was no better than them. 
“Joel Miller. To what do I owe this pleasure?” You smile but it’s tight and it doesn’t reach your eyes 
“Can I come in?” He asks like this is normal behaviour but that’s the Joel you know, always direct and to the point no matter how rude it comes across. Gritting your teeth you step back, allowing him into your apartment. 
“Nice place” he surveys your home, bathed in a soft pinkish light from the lamp next to your bed, a book discarded on the messy sheets. 
“What do you want Joel?” You try phrasing your question differently to get him to get to the point. You’re tired, it’s been a long day and Joel is not easy company. 
“I heard you’ve become a bit of an entrepreneur, started your own business” He raises a questioning eyebrow at you and you want to slink back to the shadows at his confrontation but you don’t, you stand firm, refusing to buckle under his stare. 
You’d expected word to travel faster, you’d started working about a month after Danny’s untimely demise, all of a sudden fending for yourself, no longer benefiting from the additional earnings afforded the smugglers. You’d tried to keep away from that business, only taking clients that you knew had no connection with the likes of Danny’s friends and Joel Miller but maybe you hadn’t been as careful as you’d thought. 
“Do you have a problem with that?” You challenge. It’s awfully rich of him, coming into your home and giving you his opinion on your job, like his line of work is any better. He’s nothing but a glorified drug dealer and a murderer. 
“Of course not. Why’d you think I’m here?" His tone is serious, this is not a social call, it’s business, your business. 
“I thought you were with Tess?” You ask, more so to give yourself time to actually take in what he’s saying, not because you have any issues providing your services to men of an entangled nature. 
“I thought you weren’t supposed to ask questions” he shoots back
“I don’t, usually. Just looking out for myself, last thing I want is Tess comin’ around here thinking I fucked her man” 
Joel sighs, he’s not her man. Though he’s not surprised you would think that, people thought that before they started fucking and apparently still think that even after they’ve stopped. 
“You ain’t gotta worry about that darlin’” 
“Payment upfront” you concede and Joel nods, pulling a stack of ration cards out of his pocket. 
“What’ll this get me?” He places his payment on your kitchen table and you eye the stack, easily enough ration cards to keep you living comfortably for months. 
“Whatever you want” you say, you’ve done this for much less. But had you not been enticed by the thick wad of cards, you might’ve reconsidered that offer considering everything you know about Joel.
He thinks it over, dropping heavily into the corner of your sofa, one foot on the floor, the other muddying the already stained fabric. 
“C'mere” he commands and when you’re close enough he points to the other end of the sofa “Facin’ me” 
You sit, bringing your knees up to your chest, your t-shirt does nothing to cover your modesty but your shins are blocking the view Joel really wants. 
“Spread those legs darlin’, show me what I’m payin for” he tilts his head expectantly. 
You spread your knees, keeping one leg bent and dropping the other to the floor, your new position almost a mirror of Joel’s. You know he wants more, reaching down you pull the scrap of lace to the side, exposing yourself to his gaze. 
He lets out a groan at the sight of you, cunt glistening despite the fact he’s not even touched you yet. 
“Pretty girl” he breathes. His eyes flick to his offering on the table “Whatever I want?” He confirms and you nod “Ah-ah, words darlin’. I wanna hear you” 
“Yes Joel, whatever you want” his hand flexes on his thigh and you can see the growing hardness in his jeans. 
“Take it off” his command gives you some idea of how this is going to go, he’s going to tell you what to do, and you’re going to do it. 
Your hands find the waistband of your underwear and you lift your hips, slipping them down your legs and when you reach your ankles Joel holds his hand out, smirking when you drop the fabric into his waiting hand. 
“And the rest darlin’” You pull your t-shirt over your head, revealing yourself to be bare underneath. The t-shirt drops to the floor with a quiet thud as you lean back, returning to your position, legs spread and on show for him.
Your fingers automatically slide between your legs, spreading your wetness up to your clit, circling the bundle gently. Joel doesn’t take his eyes off you, hands quickly working at his belt and jeans, freeing his length with a relieved sigh. 
Thick fingers wrap around his even thicker cock and it’s like your own personal fantasy, Joel Miller thrusting into his fist, just for you.
You increase the pressure on your clit but keep your pace slow, teasing. It’s a dangerous game to play, acting without instruction but while Joel is watching you with heavy eyes and he’s not telling you to stop, you continue, dipping your fingers into your cunt, bringing them up to show him the wetness coating your fingers. 
He doesn’t stop you when you return your fingers to your clit, doesn’t stop you when you pick up the pace or when your breathing starts getting harder. 
In fact he puts on his own show, spitting into his palm and picking up his own pace, twisting his hand over the head, his free hand tracing abstract patterns over his thigh. 
You could get off like this, you’re going to get off like this, legs tensing and core tightening. A gasp gets caught in your throat as your orgasm builds, almost there, and then it’s gone. 
A growl rumbles in Joel’s chest when his hand grabs your ankle and you’re pulled flat on your back. He’s hovering over you, hand pinning both of yours above your head, your thighs hooked over his. 
“Not gonna come on your fingers” he pants by way of explanation, pushing the tip of his cock between your soaked folds, catching your clit and nudging at the entrance to your cunt. “Gonna come on my cock” 
Joel buries himself to the hilt inside you with a sharp thrust, the stretch is so satisfying it sends a shudder up your spine that has your back arching and your hips tilting down into his, desperate to feel the ache that comes with being too full.
“Look at that, got my entire cock buried in you and you still want more” Joel taunts you, his arm slipping under the arch in your back as he withdraws and pushes back in again. 
“Joel” you gasp as he fucks into you, pulling you down to meet his thrusts. His pace is unrelenting, thick cock dragging against your walls, the slight curve catching just right on that spot inside you that makes your thighs shake and your head go foggy. 
“Say it again darlin’” it comes out as a snarl but there’s a hint of a plea in there. 
“Fuck Joel, oh yes just like that” you push yourself further into him, his arm tightening to keep you there. 
Your shoulders burn and your fingers are going numb with the restricting grip of Joel’s hand around your wrists. It’s intimate, too intimate, Joel’s breath hot on your face and his entire body flush against yours. Joel must think so too because he pulls out, hand around your waist flipping you over so your face is pushed into the cushions and your hips are raised. Before you can even catch your breath he’s forcing himself back into you.
“Fuck, so tight. Especially for a whore” you don’t expect your cunt to clench at that and Joel definitely doesn’t expect it either. He lets out a shocked laugh “You like that? Being called a whore?” He pulls out and slides back in, the action and his question pulling a sinful moan from you. 
His pace from this angle isn’t so unrelenting but it’s harder and deeper, his hips and thighs flush against yours as he bottoms out, pulling out so you can just feel him resting at your entrance, so you feel the stretch of every thrust, over and over and over again. 
“Such a whore, letting anyone fuck this cunt for a couple ration cards” his hand grabs your hair, tugging so your back is pressed to his chest and his arm wraps around your waist, thumb flicking over your sensitive nipple. The hand in your hair pulls, turning you to face towards the table and his payment “My whore now. Those cards should be plenty enough that you don’t need to do this with anyone else” 
Like this, his cock nudges that spot inside you again and this time you cry out, ragged moans falling from your lips with every snap of his hips. And his words, god his words, wash over you like a too hot shower burning your skin. 
“All mine, just for me. Not gonna let anyone else touch you” You don’t realise that’s a question until you feel a sharp smack to your rear. “Tell me you’re not gonna let anyone else touch you”
“Not gonna” you shake your head as you speak “only you” 
“Tha’s my girl” he murmurs and oh you like that, the idea of being Joel’s girl, being the one he spends his nights buried inside. 
“Yes, your girl, just for you” His mouth is on your neck and he bites down as you speak, sucking bruises onto your skin. 
If it was anyone else you’d tell them to stop, no one wants a whore marked by another man but he owns you now so you let him. Hand reaching up to grab his hair, keeping his mouth on you, giving him permission. 
His free hand works its way between your legs, flicking your clit with practised fingers and you’re suddenly right on the edge, release within reach, you just need a little bit more. As if Joel can sense exactly what you need his mouth breaks from your neck and his lips find your ear 
“Is my whore gonna come for me?” He teases, pulling a frantic litany of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ from you. “C’mon then” 
The waves that had been steadily building crash over you, shaking violently as your cunt tightens and flutters around his cock, pulling him in deeper. Light bursts behind your eyes and your hands claw at his arm keeping you upright, nails biting into his skin. You don’t hear the scream you let out but you feel it burning in your chest and your throat. Your ears are ringing, muffling the sound of Joel talking you through it. 
When you finally return to yourself Joel is still thrusting into you, your head resting heavily on his shoulder behind you.
“Gonna come in this cunt, fill you up” that snaps you back to reality 
“No. Joel you can’t- can’t do that” you panic slightly, wanting to push him away but he’s too strong, grip too tight.
And really, if you’re being entirely honest, you don’t actually want to push him away, you want to take what he gives you but it’s unrealistic and you can’t let yourself want that. 
“Yeah I can, you’re mine now. Or have you forgotten already?” You shake your head, no you haven’t forgotten but no he still can’t come inside you “don’t worry’ll get you the mornin’ after pill” 
His words are slurred and his thrusts are losing rhythm and you realise he’s holding back, waiting for you to say yes. His arm around you squeezes in warning and you can feel him tense behind you. This is it, the ultimate trust exercise and it’s now or never. Your hand entangles with his around your waist and you nod. 
“Fuck, yeah. Want it, wanna feel you fill me” His fingers tighten under yours and he picks up speed, fucking into you sloppily and panting against your temple. 
With a final thrust and a groan you can feel in your own chest Joel spills into you, holding himself so deep it’s painful, ‘Property of Joel Miller’ branded on your walls with every drop of his release. 
“So good, so fuckin’ good f’me” he breathes hot into your ear, hips twitching as he comes down from his high. He doesn’t let you go straight away, naked frame held tight against his fully clothed one. You untangle your hand from his when your legs start to ache, knees protesting as they dig into the well worn sofa, slumping forward when Joel finally releases you. 
Your body is exhausted, eyes heavy and stinging with the effort of keeping them open. Joel’s up and redressed before you even think about reaching for your t-shirt, uncaring as you lay naked on your sofa, marked body on display for him. 
Joel’s calloused fingers trace the blossoming bruises that litter your neck and shoulders, his touch surprisingly tender. His hands find yours and help you up so you’re sitting, holding your t-shirt out to slip into, the marks on your neck are visible above the neckline of your shirt and a dark sense of pride washes over him.
“I meant what I said, enough cards there to keep you comfortable for a while, don’t wanna hear you’ve been whoring yourself out again” His confession takes you by surprise, you honestly hadn’t thought he meant it, men say all sorts of things in the throes of passion, you’d know.
The realisation sends a shiver down your spine, you’re his girl now and you don't mind that one bit, the kept woman of Joel Miller.
𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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Follow You Anywhere 7
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: back again.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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You enter your apartment. It doesn’t really feel like yours anymore. That man, that gargantuan invader, has tainted your safe space. You keep your head down as you brush by Sy. He reaches to squeeze your wrist and promptly lets you go. 
You cringe as you march stiffly down the entryway. 
“Thank you, officers,” he says, “sorry to trouble ya like this. You have a good one.” 
“You too, sir,” one responds, “hopefully your homecoming gets a bit warmer.” 
The door shuts and you flinch. You stop in the living room, shoulders sloped, head down. You can’t stop the shaking. You hear him coming as Aika sits obediently in the corner. You glance at the dog, you don’t think she can help, you don’t know that she would. She’s loyal to her owner. 
Sy stalks into the front room as you cower, wring your hands in front of your chest. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you watch his shadow as he fumes and paces around. He exhales, small mutters you can’t discern. Circling around and around then suddenly stomping towards you. 
You whimper and your eyes flick up as you take a step back, eyes watery with fear. He stops, just an inch away, chest puffing with fury. You bat your lashes as you wait, for what, you don’t know. For him to do something, anything. 
“How could you hurt me like that, sweetie?” He hisses. 
“I... don’t know--” 
“You hide from me. Scare me, like that?” His voice rises, quaking as you hear him struggling to control it, “call the f—the cops?” 
He can’t keep his voice from booming. He’s so loud. Like thunder crashing down around you. 
“After all I did for you, you treat me like a monster. Actin’ all scared like I’d ever hurt you!” He snarls, “I wouldn’t, sweetie, and you know it. What did I ever do to make you think that, huh?” He starts to pace again, throwing his hands out as he rants, “I told you—I'm not a bad man! I’m not! I wouldn’t hurt you!” He barks as Aika puts her head down, eyes on her own, “but you hurt me. You. Hurt. Me.” 
He growls and his nostrils flare as he comes back around it front of you. You peek at him from beneath tear-webbed lashes. Your heart thrums in your ears and your chest thumps. He raises his hand and you wince as he smacks himself in the head. You cry out in horror as he does it again, each time harder than the last as he continues his angry prowl. 
“Sy!” You squawk. 
He snarls again and beats himself with both hands, “maybe I deserve it, huh? This is what you want. For me to hurt.” 
“No, I--” you heave as a sob bubbles up your throat. You don’t like violence. You never wanted this. You just want him gone. To be left alone. 
He roars and throws his fist around, hitting the flower lamp off the end table. It flies off and the cord snags, sending it shattering to the floor. You whine and put your knuckles to your lips, horrified as he continues his fit. He grabs the table next, hurling it with one hand as if it weighs nothing. The draw slips out and the continues scatter. 
He spins again, puffing and panting, his face red and furious. He storms towards the opposite wall and before you can understand what’s happening, he bashes his face against it. He staggers back, grips his head and blindly stumbles around. 
You stand, dumbfounded, as he falls onto the couch. He sits and hangs his head, gripping it between his large hands. He breathes loudly as he leans his elbows on his knees. Your tears spill out as you hug yourself and sniffle. 
You babble as you feel something against your leg. You look down as Aika nuzzles against you. You reach down to touch her snout. She licks your palm and you turn your attention back to Sy. You’ve never witnessed anything like that. You never ever wanted to hurt him. You pity him more than anything, he seems so lost. 
You suck in a breath and swipe the wetness from your cheeks. You drag your foot forward as Aika stays close. You back up and go through to the kitchen. You take a clean dishcloth from the drawer and wet it under the faucet. You’re buzzing with adrenaline. You don’t know what you’re doing. 
You cross the room to Sy as his breaths huff in and out. You can see the blood on his forehead as he nears. You hesitate, furling and unfurling your fingers before you touch his muscled shoulder. 
“Sy,” you say softly. 
He ignores you, fingertips curling into his skull, “so stupid...” you make out the words under his breath. 
You squeeze him as Aika pokes her head under his arms and noses him from below. He sits up and scratches her head. He wobbles as his foggy eyes come into focus. He looks at you, a gash on his forehead and another across the bridge of his nose. You try not to react as you offer the wet cloth. 
He considers it and takes it with a sigh. He dabs at the blood on his face as he watches you. You bring your palms together, rubbing them nervously, as you bounce on your feet. 
“Thanks,” he mutters as Aika nudges his hand for more pets. He looks between you and the dog, “I-- I’m sorry. I let you down. Both of you.” 
He stands up and you back away, folding your hands over your chest as you make yourself small. He holds the cloth against his nose and grunts. He scowls and turns away. You don’t move as he marches to the bathroom. The door snaps shut just as Aika reaches it. You hear the lock click. 
You bite your lip and slowly glance towards the entry way. You stare. You could try again but to what end. Blair wouldn’t let you back in after you brought that chaos into her world and the police won’t do anything more than blame you again. 
Maybe it is your fault. Sy means well... 
No, no! He doesn’t belong there. This is your life.  
Aika’s paws pad down the hall and she sits by the door. She knows what you’re thinking it seems. Doesn’t matter, you have nowhere to go and no one to go to. 
You pivot carefully, searching for a distraction. What can you do now? You’re too addled to sit down and work or even hide away in the bedroom under the covers. You walk a circle around the room and stop yourself. You look at the wall, a smear of blood and a dent left by his collision. 
You return to the kitchen and grab a paper towel. You come back to wipe away blood. When you get most of it out, you start to clean up the rest of the mess. The lamp is broken. You put the shards in a box and leave it by the door. Then you gather up the random pens and notebook and right the table before tucking it all back in the drawer. 
As you stand up, you hear another click. You peer over as Sy appears. His shirt is gone. The cuts on his face are no longer bleeding but his eyes are still blazing. You gulp as his jaw tenses. 
“I’m sorry I broke your lamp,” he utters dully. 
You wet your lips with your tongue, “Do you want some tylenol?” 
His eyebrows arch and his cheek ticks. He nods slowly, “yes, sweetie.” 
You try to smile and your mouth quivers. You retreat and go to fetch the bottle of pills and some water. When you come back, he’s on the couch again.  
“Head sure does hurt,” he says as he accepts the glass and the tablets. 
You hum and nod. He throws back the pills and drains half the glass. He set the cup down and leans back, once more holding his head. 
“Do you think... maybe you should see a doctor?” You suggest. 
“I’m fine,” he growls, “got worse over in the sh—in the war.” 
You scrunch up your lips and twiddle your fingers. He drops his hands and brings his head straight. You fidget as he takes you in, his eyes narrow and his expression pained. He waves you closer, “come here.” 
You stop moving. You’re completely still as you stare him. His brow lowers dangerously. You near him reluctantly, wary of riling him again. 
“I’m sorry I yelled, sweetie,” he takes your hand and leans forward to kiss your knuckles, “I was worked up. I thought—I was crazy. I thought I lost you, you know? But I get it. You wanted to see your friend and she... she put her nose in our business and called in the cops, huh? Jealous, I bet.” 
You blanch. That’s not the truth. That isn’t what happened at all. You won’t argue. 
“Yeah,” you let him cling to your hand, “I think she was just worried because she didn’t recognise you. I’m... I’m sorry.” 
He looks up at you and his lips curve, “I know you’re sorry, sweetie,” he tugs on you, “but we’re all good now, aren’t we? I got you, you got me, everything’s as it should be.” 
He moves you and you let him. You know better than to break the illusion again. He angles you onto his lap and your body locks up. He hugs you to him, a hand on your leg, his other arm across your back. He purrs as he holds you close, leaning back as the tension seeps from him. 
“Just like this, sug, me and you,” he grits. 
🧸
You escape Sy’s embrace for the excuse of making breakfast. The task helps you keep your fears at bay though his presence looms just on the other side of the wall. Your helplessness is starting to feel like acceptance as the last of your denial dissipates. This is real. You are trapped. 
You plate up a heaping plate of bacon and eggs. You scrape butter onto toast and bring it out to the table. You teethe your lip as you stand in the archway of the front room. 
“Food’s ready, Sy,” you squeak. 
He sits up and groans as he stretches. He stands, towering over you as he looks even broader without his shirt. Somehow you keep forgetting how big he really is. 
He crosses the room and you scurry back to the kitchen. You hear him pull the chair out as you grab your leftover french toast and bring it out. You’re not very hungry, in fact you feel sick to your stomach. Still, you know you have to play along. 
That sound, the one of his head hitting the plaster, keeps replaying in your head. You hate it. As much as he scares you, as much as he’s a stranger, you don’t want to be the reason he’s hurt. You stare at your plate glumly as you cut into the cold eggy bread. 
“Thank you, sweetie,” he undercuts your gloom with his bright tone, “sure smells good.” 
You glance up, poking at the toast with your fork, “sorry, all I had was turkey bacon.” 
“S’all good,” he tears a strip in half and takes a bite. 
You muster a smile and drop your gaze back to your food. You take a bite of the stale, syrupy bread. You chew mechanically, bite by bite, and choke it all down. You think of how he might react if you let the food go to waste. He paid for it after all. At least the berries add a bit of flavour. 
“You should make a video today,” he says abruptly. 
Your eyes flick up and you blink, “oh, uh, maybe not today--” 
“Your followers will be wanting to check in, won’t they? You can’t leave them hanging.” 
“Um, well, I’ll think about it later---” 
“You know, sweetie, like I said, you got me through some tough days. You’re all I had out there. Who knows, maybe there’s others who feel the same, you know?” He scoops up eggs on his fork and hovers them over the plate, “and you’re special. The world needs more of you.” 
“Thanks, er, I’m just... tired is all.” 
“Well, you wouldn’t be so tired if you hadn’t snuck out to the couch, huh?” He challenges. 
You’re surprised by the admonishment. You wince and give a shrug, “yeah, I guess--” 
“I could help ya with the video. We could do something fun. Maybe... we could go for a walk with Aika. She loves the wilderness. Specially when there aren’t bombs hidin’.” 
You look down guiltily. You don’t blame him for wanting out of his old life. For being so excited to be away from the chaos. And you feel worse because you’ve taken all you have for granted. Each time he talks, he reminds you of your ignorance. 
“I guess... that sounds nice,” you sniff. 
“Sounds perfect to me,” he swallows his mouthful, “walking around with my girls, showing ‘em off.” He grins, “couldn’t ask for anything more.” 
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thelikesofus · 1 year
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Buddie Fic Recs
AKA Talented Mutuals Tuesday
Except I spent so long making this list that the timezones changed over BUT I wanted to show my mutuals some love and now that we are going into the hiatus I thought you might all like a list of quality fics to keep you occupied while there is no new Weewoo show. 
I don't know if anyone will actually want to join in on this but if you do the rules are simple:
SHOW YOUR MUTUALS SOME LOVE! Share your favourite fics, (or gifs, edits, literally anything that your very talented mutuals have made), as many or as few as you like but let's share the love around <3
Apologises in advance for the long post btw
@speaknowdiaz I would literally read anything that April writes and would probably sell a limb for the incredible WIPs I know she's still cooking up but here are a couple of my faves:
pining and anticipation (I don't want you like a best friend)
Buck challenges Eddie to try to hit on him after teasing Eddie for not having any ‘game’. This fic is very funny and very soft.
believe in one thing (i won't go away)
This fic hit me straight in the feels. Buck and Eddie go to couples therapy even though they aren't a couple and they work through some stuff.
@thosetwofirefighters Incredible amazing Nat ily xx
Say It All Out Loud
Eddie comes out to Aunt Pepa after his ‘date’ with Vanessa. I am a little bit biased towards this one because she did write it for me but it's honestly just so good!
How to Cure Boredom: Buckley Edition
The 118 are stuck at the firehouse during a slow shift and Buck entertains them all by mattress-surfing the loft stairs. It’s soft and silly and in the same universe as her other fic Safe in His Arms.
@loveyourownsmiilee The wonderful amazing Juju not only writes incredible meta and keeps us all fed with Oliver content but Juju also writes wonderful buddie fic. 
When Were You Under Me?
Who doesn’t love a Friends AU. This is Buck and Eddie as Ross and Rachel and it is hilarious and so sweet. 
You should also check out her Buddie Language Meta if you have not read it before <3
@elvensorceress Jenwyn’s work always astounds me so be sure to check these out:
Color Him Father, Color Him Love
I will scream from the rafters how much I adore this fic and yes it did make me cry (happy tears). It’s a look into Buck’s head after his sperm donor kid is born and he realizes what Christopher (and Eddie) truly mean to him. I know I have recced this before but it deserves all the love. 
Unless You Ask Me To
Eddie dates a man for the first time, and Buck is completely 'Fine'. This is a preemptive rec because it is one chapter away from completion and I have been saving it to binge in one sitting but knowing Jenwyn and her incredible talent I guarantee this will be worth the read. 
@spotsandsocks If anyone’s work is guaranteed to make me sob like a baby (happy, sad, or tears of laughter) it’s Spotty. 
Everything But (temptation)
This is Spotty’s newest fic and it's just brilliant. Buck is practicing extreme self-control whilst Eddie is being an irresistible menace. 
Could Have, Should Have, Would Have
Buck finally tells Eddie he loves him right before Eddie’s new boyfriend is supposed to meet Christopher. Honestly, all I can say about this fic is that it’s a masterpiece and I screamed many times while reading it. 
@shortsighted-owl Wonderful amazing Owly (Abbi). I appreciate you so and you make my dash so happy xx
Of foam-moustached kisses, and button combinations
For all your sweet domestic buddie needs this is the fic. Eddie is practicing a video game to get better than Chris and Buck makes fun of his ex-technophobe boyfriend. 
Also THIS EDIT SET to the lyrics of You’re All That I Have by Snow Patrol make me assdffgghjjklkll
@lilbuddie Okay, this one is just a brag because Minja doesn’t actually have any fics published yet (side eye) but I wanna make sure she is on everyone’s radar for when she does because yall are not ready for the incredible amazing talent that is this girl’s writing!! So go check out the snippets on her Tumblr and badger her until she finishes something plssssss
@wheelsupin-five Hi! <3
Almost Almost Almost
This adorable of Buck who is always cold and Eddie warms him up I– asfffghhjkklllll
Under Kitchen Light
SO SOFT! Buck wakes up and Eddie isn't there, Buck finds him in the kitchen. 
@rogerzsteven Simi owns my heart and by that I mean my heart is locked in a cage in Simi’s basement where it is occasionally beaten to a pulp by the most incredibly angsty fics you've ever read.
Cleanse
Buck is extremely nauseous and Eddie takes care of him while I sob over them in a corner.
build me a home underground (free from light and sound)
This fic is so brutal in all the best ways, my heart was in my throat the entire read! Buck gets trapped in a sensory deprivation room while the 118 and Athena race to find him. 
@ashavahishta another incredibly talented mutual of mine
out of ashes
Is it really a Meegs rec list if I don’t rec this fic honestly it's engraved on my soul. This is a criminal minds/greys inspired fic where Buck is kidnapped and tortured until the 118 can find him. This fic is so so well written and means a million things to me I could never explain but pleaseeeee read it!! 
@jobairdxx hello lovely xx
Oh, We Pray to Make it Through the Night
Highly recommend this fic, I do love a near-death experience fic! Buck gets injured on a call and Eddie falls asleep holding vigil at his bedside. 
Jules also writes beautiful poetry on Tumblr so go read some of that too <3
@monsterrae1 MISS RAE! YOU INCREDIBLE THING! <3
love is on its way
I know we’re all a little bit in mourning over the couch theory but it lives on in our hearts and in this fic which has six moments between Buck and Eddie on the Diaz couch (and she’s a wee bit spicy too).
Buck's café (take my heart, just not my order)
Coffee Shop AU. Buck runs the shop where the 118 order all their drinks on shift. I absolutely adore this fic! 
@alyxmastershipper RYAN!! INCREDIBLY TALENTED MUTUAL THAT YOU ARE!! 
there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head
If “aasdsdfghhjkl” was a person it was me reading this fic. Eddie comes out to Buck, receives a quirky mug, and gets together with the love of his life. In that order.
@bekkachaos Wonderful, amazing Bekka xxx
lose yourself in the feeling
I am a sucker for ‘accidental kisses’ and this was just wonderful. Buck is so excited about Maddie and Chim getting engaged that he kisses Eddie when he tells him. 
start me up, open my eyes
Okay, the mild sexual content tag is a lie, nothing has ever been closer to smut without actually being smut than this fic, I have never been so wound up reading a fic. Bekka builds the tension so so well. 
@sibylsleaves honestly I'm still a little in shock that we're mutuals now so please excuse me while I fangirl over your incredible writing!
with a bird at your door
Eddie starts spending all his time with Buck. Which would be fine if it weren't for the fact that Buck is in love with him. This fic is the perfect mixture of pining, angst, and a happy ending. And yes I think about this fic frequently I love it okay. 
@mysteriouslyyounggalaxy last but certainly not least (for now). hello lovely xx
(tell the gravedigger) better dig two
Missing scenes from while eddie is trapped in the well followed by the most perfect extended reunion scene. We all know I am a sucker for fics based on the well incident, it’s literally how i started writing for buddie but omg this fic!!!! 
Remember to share the love around and happy hiatus to you all.
Love, Meegs xxxx
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aluciahaz · 3 months
Note
Sorry if this isn’t the askbox or not right I never done this before..
If requests are still open and whenever you feel like it of course.
I would like a dom male Reader x bottom Alastor rough smut, where the reader is in an important meeting as he is an overlord or prince of hell which ever you prefer.
And Alastor have been more chaotic lately which is messing something up for the reader and now he have to correct Alastor’s behavior.
Anyway hope you’re doing well today and take care of yourself and of course you can ignore this. Thank you.
RAHH!! im very late, sorry! i havent been feeling like writing in awhile, especially hazbin unfortunately 😭 so i decided to just post my wip i had for this request! i dont think ill ever finish it, so i wanted to post it rather than let it rot lmao, hope you enjoy although its unfinished ❤️
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don’t forget your place
alastor x male!reader
includes: crying, gags, bondage
you don’t know what’s gotten into alastor recently.
the two of you sit in a meeting, right beside each other of course, and you watch as other overlords trickle into the modern room.
you didn’t even need to look at them, you could tell which people had arrived just by the sounds of their footsteps alone. each overlord was unique, it wasn’t hard to differentiate them. zestial had this almost spider-like sound when he walks, carmilla’s shoes pierced through the quiet like blades, and alastor—
“what are you thinking about, darling?” he asks, smiling at you with an inquisitive look.
you glance over at your troublesome lover, pursing your lips. “about how you’ve been harming my reputation with some of the statements you say in your radio show,” you tell him honestly, the sound of chairs moving against the pristine floors covering your conversation well enough to not require you to whisper.
“and how you keep killing some of my biggest customers. they’re too afraid to even call anymore.”
“oh, but you could always get more—”
“it’s not about that,” you hiss, your hand clenching alastor’s tightly. his smile freezes, but he’s still smug, looking at you under his hooded eyes.
“it’s about you walking over my image, al. stay in your lane,” you scold him, letting go of his hand as you feel him pull away.
all he does is shrug, clearly unbothered as he leans back in his chair. “i drive wherever gets me to my destination the fastest, my dear. and, it just seems you’re the shortcut.”
your grip on the bottom of the seat in frustration, glaring at alastor in both annoyance and sheer astonishment at his audacity to make such a euphemism. he thinks that he could just tear down your reputation to build up his own? what an outrageous idea!
perhaps you’ve been too kind to him. he thinks you’re some sort of pushover.
you’re already thinking of ways to fix that mistake. so much so, that the meeting seems to pass by like a fly and the fruit of your ideas are right in your hands in just a few seconds, tasting sweeter than honey.
“mmh—hn!” weak static fluctuated between an incessant buzzing to complete silence as you grabbed his ears roughly, tugging them back to reveal his dainty neck, a perfect place for you to latch your lips on, and soon you hear a jump in his voice as your teeth pierces his skin.
there was usually more leniency when it came to intimacy with al. you want him to enjoy it after all, so you let him bark a few insults here and there, mock you a little. whatever makes him comfortable, either way, his mouth usually ends up running out of words to play at the end of his little show of control once he gets overwhelmed, unable to read his script anymore as you drive his brain into an incoherent repeat of ‘please’.
but tonight, you watch him writhe and sob as his mouth is gagged and his body is completely tied to the bed, spread out and on full display as you ram into him, his head tossing and turning into the pillow behind him.
your hands ground him to reality, the sharp pain of your nails and unrelenting grip forcing him to stay somewhat conscious as you use him, showing how much power you have over alastor.
it was incredible to see his silver tongue unable to lacerate the air with insults, the gag upon him doing a great job at keeping him unable to throw jabs at you like you were some target at a range.
instead, all he could do was wail, drool spilling down his chin and making a mess of his dress shirt that you made sure to keep on him just to piss him off. you know how much he likes to keep his clothes in check. it’s part of his well-crafted image, after all.
“are you learning your place now, bambi?” you chuckle, your words cold on his skin, seeping into his body as he shivers at the frost, unable to protect himself from your punishment.
“answer me,” one of your hands leaves his waist, grabbing his chin and yanking him up towards you. a small, feeble whimper leaves his throat as you do so, and his eyes seem to dilate. dilate, out of all things.
“slut,” you spit, chuckling as you see his ears flop down. such a terrifying overlord, reduced to a small little deer in your hands. it was cute, how he looked at you.
it was even cuter when he shakes, so sensitive that he feels the need to twist and turn as you make him cum for the second time, his body jolting as your hand runs over his cock, still hard underneath your palm.
usually, you’d expect a sharp glare or some sort of defiance to your name-calling, but all you see is his eyes rolling back, his head tilting up as you release his chin.
there are tears that seem to adorn his cheeks like shooting stars in the sky, and babbling that‘s reminiscent of a muffled radio in another room. it was nice, seeing alastor’s breaking like this. watching him fall beneath the weight of his actions, unable to hold them up on his shoulders as they crush him in one fell swoop.
all because of you.
tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist @luciferspetduck
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chimindity · 3 months
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Stepbro!rafe x reader
"exhausting day"
You come home frow work exhausted, having such a bad day the only thing you want is to lay down on your bed and get rid of your frustration.
It was already past midnight, since you work as a barmaid you always finish late at night, usually you don't really mind it, but this night was one of the worst, you almost got fired when a group of men came to you and kept asking inappropriate questions, you started to get angry, which is pretty normal until your boss comes and tells you to go serve them but you didn't want to, affraid of what they could do, so you just skipped their order.
Your boss noticed it and almost made you cry infront of everyone telling you how bad you are as a barmaid.
As you walk into your room you start undressing yourself changing into more comfortable clothes, choosing a baby pink nightgown.
Switching on the light on your vanity you sit down and sigh, being too tired to even remove your makeup so you take a cotton disk and start wipping off your mascara.
A few seconds later it still hasn't come off, looking at yourself, eyebrows furrowing on the mirror you sigh again this time louder.
You throw in anger the dirty cotton disk, almost dropping everything from the vanity, as you burst out in tears, your face hiding behind your hands you don't hear your step brother walking in your room.
-"shit you gonna wake the whole neighborhood up if you keep yelling like that" his sudden voice gets closer making you jolt, but it only makes you sob harder feeling not understood, not even by your step brother.
-"hey what'd i just tell ya?" He frowns gently nudging your shoulder, as you look up at him, your smudged mascara under your eyes make his cock throbs in his shorts, seeing you in this vulnerable state.
-"I just can't remove my mascara" you sniff handing him a cotton disk he looks down at it, giving you a confusing look.
-"what the hell am I supposed to do with that uh?" He huffs poiting at it, causes you to roll you eyes at his reaction.
-"I have a bad day and uh i just need to sleep and i feel overwhelmed" you whine throwing your hands dramatically in the air, not paying too much attention to Rafe while his smirks widens on his face, he grabs your forearm pulling you on his laps facing him as he sits down on the edge of your bed.
-"a'light, let me take care of you, uh why don't you let me do all the thinking for you a'right?" He starts getting flustrasted as he feels the silkness of your nightgown on his thighs, not expecting it to be this close.
You simply nodd your head, being exhausted at this point to even speak, he gently rubs your eye trying to remove the makeup as you sight a little bit of his tongue between his lip, you never noticed his habits as a sign of concentration.
But you find it extremely hot, until he catches you guard off admiring his face, -"stop looking at me like that" he grabs your face with his other hand, squeezing your cheeks.
-"where am I suppose to look then?" You squirm on his laps making him grab them firmly, as you start feeling something poking your inner thighs, but you don't really pay attention.
-"hey, hey look at me" his tone softens and his eyes don't leave yours, bouncing his lap as if he was trying to comfort a toddler, and somehow it works.
-"there we go, now what don't you let me make you feel better?" He doesn't let you have time to reply, he lifts you up under your armpits and turn you the other side, so your back is now pressed against his torso.
You tilt your head confusedly, when you feel your hips being lifted up and down repeatedly you grip his laps to keep you still.
-"rafey?" A whimper comes out as you feel his boner rubbing against your ass cheeks, your cheeks immediately redden when you realize it, and try to pull away from his grip.
-"shhh, don't you trust your big brother? Here take off your shorts" you are taken back by his demand, but after all you trust him cause he always told you that he knows better.
Still sitting on his laps, you try to slide down your pink nightgown when you hear him sighs behind you, his hands grips and pull down your shorts quickly.
-"do I have to do everything?" He huffs as his eyes glance at your puffy cunt all swollen from the friction, which causes him to smirk.
He pulls you closer in his laps wrapping his arms around your body, his hand reaching your private part making you squirm in his grip as he starts touching your clit.
-"rafe! This is wrong, we just we can't do this!" You cling at his forearms trying to get away from his laps but it only make him tighter his grip.
-"stop, i'm being really nice so fucking be grateful" the more he is beind rude the more he is being turned on, after he has enough of you squirming, he lifts you legs up pressed against your chest.
-"what'd i tell you uh? Stop moving" his pace gets faster as you soak his fingers causing you to moan, your eyes widen at the noise you just made and you hide your face out of embarrasment.
-"nah nah none of that" he smirks and pulls your hands away from your face, feeling a warm feeling in your lower stomach you start getting worried.
-"rafe! S-something's wrong uh" you hiccup trying to speak as the pleasure overwhelm you, Rafe knew what's happening to you just by the way you squirm and moans.
-"I know, I know just let it out 'kay?" He keeps rubbing your clit as you close your eyes and moan louder feeling your clímax getting closer.
-"fuck Rafey! R-rafe" you're whining his name being out of breath, your eyes become heavier than earlier you feel a light spank on your cheek.
-"hey wake up sis, I gotta clean you up lay down on the bed" he helps you stand up and walks out of the room, you lay down on the bed slowly drifting off.
-"didn't know I would be the first to give you an orgasm" he mumbles to himself as he walks back in your room watching you sleeping already, getting closer to you and gently clean you.
After he was done, he gets back in his room with a hard on ready to blow his load as soon as his eyes lands on your pretty face smudged mascara under your eyes, he was sick and he knew it but your obliviousness makes you adorable he couldn't help it.
Taglist
@nemesyaaa @starkeysprincess @sadfury
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sweetyyhippyy · 1 month
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39 Weeks. Dad!Eddie Series. *FLUFF*
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Summary: Eddie's wife is now 39 weeks pregnant and things aren't getting any easier.
Word Count: 766
TW: Being big pregnant, a lot of crying.
A.N.: Surprise!!!!! I was going through my WIPs and found this! I didn't think i ever finished it but I did!
~~~~~~~~~~
Bulging belly.
Swollen ankles.
Back pain.
Peeing every 3 minutes.
Being 39 weeks (and 5 days, but who’s counting) was starting to take its toll on her. She was tired, sore, swollen, hot all the time, and overly emotional - which Eddie always seemed to be the one to pick up the pieces.
Her day at home hasn’t been as relaxing as she hoped.
For lunch, she wanted a simple bowl of cereal, but the milk had spoiled. She went to make grilled cheese, an easy second option, only to find a single piece of bread, and naturally it was the end piece. Clearly a grocery store visit needed to happen.
As the day went on, the pain in her lower back was more than she could bear on top of the tightness she was feeling in her stomach.
The final straw was when she went to switch the laundry. Somehow a little red sock ended up in a load with Eddie’s Hellfire Club shirt and a few other white shirts that ended up turning the shirts pink.
Tears started to flow instantly with frustration in herself, something that had started to become normal the last few weeks.
As much as she loved being pregnant in the very beginning, she was physically and emotionally over being this heavily pregnant and miserable.
Eddie swings the front door open, excited to see his wife after a long day of work.
“Babe?” He calls out, throwing his keys on the counter in the dark kitchen, the house eerily quiet.
“Babe, I’m home. Where are you?” Eddie walks throughout the house, finding their bedroom door closed and small sniffles from behind it.
Eddie furrows his eyebrows before slowly opening the door and peeking his head in to see his wife curled up in a ball under the sheets, her body shaking from her sobs.
“What’s going on, sweetheart? What happened?” Eddie rushes over to her, laying a hand on her back.
She erupts in a violent sob, looking back at Eddie with swollen eyes. “I just want the baby here already. I can’t take being pregnant anymore!” She yells. “I don’t have any control over my body, everything hurts, all I want is some cereal and the milk is spoiled. We don’t have enough bread!.”
“It’s just your hormones.” Eddie soothes her, not the first time this pregnancy he’s let her cry it out.
“I don’t know how you put up with me! I’m insufferable! I turned your shirts pink because I can’t do laundry the right way.” She picks up the shirt from next to her and shoves it in his face. “See?! It’s pink! I’m sorry!” She was beyond hysterical at this point.
Eddie grabs the newly pink shirt from her and opens it up. “It’s kinda badass, babe. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re my husband and you’re trying to be nice to me. I did it to your favorite Metallica shirt too.” She hiccups a sob, handing him more of the evidence.
Sure it was his favorite shirt, but he still couldn’t be angry at her even a little bit. “Hey, can you look at me for 10 seconds?”
She slowly looks up at him, shame in her face.
Eddie wipes her tears from her cheeks, planting a soft kiss onto her forehead. “For the past 39 weeks you’ve been growing a baby, our baby. You’ve been growing her little nose, her arms, her heart. That’s a lot of work. You’re exhausted, you’re hurting, nobody is mad that you accidentally made my shirts pink.”
“You’re not mad?” She sniffles broken, wiping her wet eyes again.
“No, sweetheart.” He wraps his arms around her and cradles her head against his chest. “Hell I’ve done a load of laundry for you and shrunk your favorite sweater and you weren’t mad at me, remember?”
She can’t help but giggle, remembering how scared he was to tell her he shrunk her sweater, he bought her favorite food home, brought her flowers, and put her favorite movie on before he showed her the sweater, the cutest puppy dog face on.
“Since you had a bad day, I’ll go make you a bath, not too hot, and I’ll go grab some groceries, get some stuff to make dinner, and I’ll come back and spoil you.”
“That sounds nice.” She smiles, kissing his cheek. “Since you’re going to the store, will you pick up some green grapes for me? And by me, I mean the baby of course.”
Eddie chuckles, getting off the bed. “Anything for the baby."
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narumi-gens · 1 year
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Drunk Mind, Sober Heart
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Miya Atsumu x gn!Reader
summary: They say that drunk words are sober thoughts. Unfortunately for you, that means Atsumu is about to find out about your big, embarrassing secret.
warnings: pure fluff, reader is a drunk mess, mention of vomiting and alcohol, husband!atsumu, established relationship, you and atsumu are simps for each other
notes: we’re back on the haikyuu train! I’m actually not sure if I like this but just wanted to get it out of my wips since it was already 75% written.
words: 1.2k
minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not interact
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Atsumu hadn’t left you alone for long, just long enough to grab his phone charger from the nightstand. He was gone for a minute, maybe two. What could go wrong in a minute?
Apparently a lot. 
You’re still in the same spot that he left you. You’re still curled up on the bathroom floor next to the toilet. You’re still clutching tightly onto the pillow he gave you to keep you from being too uncomfortable on the hard tile. 
But when he left, you were completely passed out, drunkenly snoring and giving him a short break from “rubbing your back and making sure that you’re throwing up in the toilet and not on the floor” duty.
Now, you’re sobbing loudly into your pillow as you lay in a puddle of water, having knocked over the uncapped bottle he had set aside for you. 
The sight instantly has him panicking, dropping his charger onto the counter and kneeling down next to you in the puddle. He picks up the bottle and sets it aside, not that doing so is much use considering most of the water is now on the bathroom floor.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he tries to gently shush you. “What’s wrong? Do ya gotta puke again?”
It seems to be the wrong question to ask because it only has you crying harder. 
“Baby, it’s okay,” he assures you, running his hand soothingly up and down your side. 
“S’not!” you wail and Atsumu finds himself impressed by his own sense of hearing to have been able to comprehend what you’re saying through your sobs.
“Yeah, it is. C’mon, it’s alright,” he says, still doing his best to try and talk you down. “What’s wrong? Let me help.”
“No!” you continue to protest, burying your face even further into your pillow. Your sobs have devolved into loud, pathetic hiccups. “Don’t wanna tell you. S’embarrassing…”
“Ya don’t gotta feel embarrassed!” he says. “At least ya puked in the bushes and not in the Uber. Yer ahead of me on that one.”
“No! S’not that!” you argue, looking up from your pillow to give him a pitiful glare that makes you look like an angry kitten. Atsumu is overcome with the urge to grab his phone so he can take a picture but knows that it would send you into another fit of sobs.
“Then what is it?” he asks patiently and you flop onto your back, your head resting on your pillow as you frown at the ceiling. 
“M’embarrassed,” you sniffle, tears continuing to leak from your eyes. 
“Baby, about what?”
Your features scrunch together unattractively before you cover your face with your hands. 
“I’m so in love with you that it’s embarrassing!” you cry, your voice muffled, and Atsumu is at a loss at your…confession. It takes a moment before he knows how to respond.
“…we’ve been married fer two years,” he says slowly, his eyebrows furrowing together. “I would hope ya love me.”
“You don’t get it!” you whine, dropping your hands and doing your best to sit up and face him, although you end up needing to rest your entire weight on the toilet. “It’s like I have this huuuuge crush on you.”
He can feel the grin threatening to break out across his lips and quickly bites down on the inside of his cheek before it can. Instead, he reaches out a hand to affectionately play with the ends of your hair only for you to weakly slap him away.
“Sometimes when you send me a text saying you love me, I squeal into a pillow,” you softly tell him through sniffles, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “And sometimes I just look through my pictures of you and get all flustered.”
The grin he was trying so hard to hold back begins to peek through and he has to slap a hand over his mouth to hide it. Thankfully, you’re too drunk to notice. 
“And it’s so embarrassing to be such a mess in front of my crush,” you pout before wiping your messy face with the back of your wrist, not that it really does any good.
“Ya don’t gotta feel embarrassed about any of it,” he repeats with a fond look. “If anything, this makes me love ya even more.”
Your expression finally seems to soften, your drunken angst beginning to fade into something much more shy.
“Really?” you ask through another sniffle.
“Yeah, I promised to love ya in sickness and in health, didn’t I?” he smiles and you giggle.
But before he can make a dumb joke about drunkenness being the worst kind of sickness out there, a look that he’s become only too familiar with over the last few hours crosses your face. You rush to turn away from him and he’s back on “rubbing your back and making sure that you’re throwing up in the toilet and not on the floor” duty.
The next morning sees you doing better, but not by much. The lights in the apartment are all off and the blinds on all of the windows are closed. The only source of light comes from the tv, which is quietly playing some trashy reality show that’s ostensibly about selling real estate but is actually about who’s sleeping with the owner of the brokerage. 
The duvet from your bed is wrapped around you like a burrito as you’re laid out pathetically on the couch with a sports drink clutched tightly in your grip like a lifeline. You’re grateful that Atsumu keeps so many of them in the refrigerator and you swear to yourself that you won’t make fun of him anymore for how much space they take up.
You’re roused from wallowing over your pitiful state when you hear the front door opening and you slouch further into the couch. But when Atsumu finally appears around the corner, your face lights up as you see that he’s proudly holding up a takeout bag coated in grease stains. 
“I got ya just what the doctor prescribed,” he grins and you sit up as best you can with the blanket wrapped so tightly around you. 
“Oh, you’re a godsend,” you moan as you grab the bag from his hands. You open it and happily inhale the scent of the burger and fries inside. 
He preens at your praise and lifts your legs so that he can sit down beside you before setting them down in his lap. You’re too busy shoveling the fries into your mouth to even care. But after a few minutes, you feel his gaze on you.
When you look up, you freeze at the sight of him watching you with big heart eyes and a wide, dopey grin. 
“What?” you ask him through an unattractive mouthful of half-eaten fries. 
“Nothin’,” he shrugs. However, the look on his face says anything but and your eyes narrow suspiciously. “Just, I heard from a little birdie that ya got a pretty big crush.”
Your hand pauses in mid-air, halfway to shoving another handful of fries into your already full mouth. Atsumu’s grin grows wider at your reaction.
“Y’know, I got a pretty big crush too.”
All you can do is mutter in embarrassment what he thinks is, “shut up,” but sounds like “shha amph,” as you refuse to meet his gaze and Atsumu feels his crush on you growing bigger, even as he laughs obnoxiously in your face. 
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sourw0lfs · 1 year
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My 'Steve gets taken instead of Barb' AU has been churning in my brain for a couple of weeks now and I'm desperate to give it some love and attention, even if I have other WIPs that need my attention more, so I'm throwing a sneak peek out into the world <3
~*~*~*~
“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?”
Steve’s voice is little more than a frantic whisper as he tries to right himself, hands and feet scrambling under him as they slide on… he doesn’t even know what that is, but it feels disgusting under his fingers. And he wants— No, he needs to get away from it now.
He also desperately needs to get away from whatever the fuck is growling nearby.
Finally he gets some kind of traction and propels himself out of… Steve doesn’t stop to look around and find out. Instead he just heaves himself up and takes off for the line of dead, decrepit trees he can see in the distance. His breaths come in harsh pants and he wants to look over his shoulder, to see if what he heard is chasing him, but he doesn’t. Instead he keeps his eyes forward, pushing as much as he can to create distance between himself and whatever the fuck that thing is.
It’s only once the burn in his legs is too much to bear that Steve stops. His palms find his knees as he doubles over, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath again. Every muscle in his body feels like it’s going to shake free with how much he’s tremble, both from the exertion and the fear, and it’s all Steve can do to keep his feet under him.
Around him, the world is quiet, broken only by the strained gasps.
Once he finally feels like he might not pass out from lack of air, Steve straightens up and looks around. It’s hard to make anything out in the dark, but he can see the faint outline of bare trees and dark shadows of undergrowth. There’s something off about it all, a sense of wrongness coming over him as he looks around. The area looks familiar and foreign at the same time and he didn’t even know something could do that.
Turning back the way he’d come from, Steve takes a single step before hissing in pain and crumpling to the ground. The rush of adrenaline that fueled his escape is gone now, leaving only a sharp sting down the bottom half of his right leg in its wake. Fingers shaking, Steve prods at the area, whimpering to himself a bit when it makes the pain worse. His fingers come back dark and wet.
Blood.
Whatever it is that grabbed him has also shredded the skin of his leg in the process. Perfect, great, fantastic, amazing.
Sob ripping free of its own volition, Steve falls back. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know a damn thing about dealing with fucking claw marks. He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know how to reach help. He doesn’t know if that thing is coming back. He doesn’t know what to do.
Tears slide down from his eyes, down his face to his ears, but Steve doesn’t make any move to wipe them away. Instead he just lays there, staring up at the discomfortingly red sky above him. He’s never seen a red sky before. It would maybe be pretty to look at if he wasn’t spiraling and catastrophizing.
Lightning streaks across the dark clouds, and Steve startles at the sudden brightness of it. But it’s something. It’s enough to get him pushing himself back up, to wipe his eyes with dirty hands, to collect his thoughts again. His leg stings with each movement, but he knows he can’t stay on the ground. He has to go…somewhere. Anywhere but here. Except the part where Steve doesn’t know where he is.
The ground is wet under his palms as he drags himself towards on the twisted trees surrounding him. Reaching it, Steve reaches up to grab onto a branch, hoping and praying that it doesn’t crack under his weight, and uses it to pull himself up. The bark is dry and rough against his skin as he pulls, but the branch holds and Steve gets his feet under himself again.
Leaning heavily against the trunk as Steve tests how much weight he can put on his torn apart right leg. “Fuck!” he swears when the pain sears all the way up as soon as his foot touches the ground.
Another sob tears its way free as Steve leans on the dead tree for a moment, breathing heavily through his nose until the flash of pain fades away again. Once he can straighten up enough to look around again, Steve feels the need to sob again. He really has no idea where he’s at.
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areislol · 7 months
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this goes towards my current wip with al haitham so
child al haitham x child reader // cute moments :)
some moments on angst (mentions of his parents seperating, this is just a hc of mine for some angst don't bash me pls) not proofread. short
a/n: this was for funsies, honestly i just needed to write something cute and fluffy after writing an angsty wip, i can't write this all in my current wip hence, this!
when he was reading a book to you
when you were rolling on the ground trying to get his attenton as he read a book
when al haitham was trying his best to console you with awkward pats on the back after having tripped and cried
al haitham's mother making him hold your hand when crossing the street.
when you had a sleep over at his place and fell asleep on his bed, both of your tiny hands just barely touching each other
al haitham trying to stop you from touching a stray cat saying that it was "dirty and mommy said not to touch a cat outside, you can get hurt and even die!!" poor boy was scared for you
you laughing at him as he falls, when he cries and puts the blame on you, you both get time out and somehow you manage to run away, dragging al haitham with you as your mother chases you
building a sand castle with him, it's very sloppy looking but you were proud of it, and so was al haitham. so when a random child that was getting chased by their friends and run over your sandcastle he is furious, swearing to find them when his older and destory their sandcastle as pay back. and when he notices that you're sobbing uncontrollably? he might just even have a talk with them.
al haitham who helps you steal the cookie jar that was ONLY meant to be eaten after dinner, and when your grubby tiny hands reach for it and break it, he takes the blame.
al haitham who lets you put stickers and bows on his face as he reads a book, as long as you aren't in the way of course (he doesn't mind if you do or don't) and refuses to take them off when he needs to shower.
al haitham who is always there to help you get up when you trip and fall, even asking his mother to buy him a small hang bag so he can stuff bandaids in there.
al haitham gets really, seriously mad when someone picks on you for being "too loud" or "running around too much", he doesn't outright say anything but the glares...? even for a young child like him, whew.
he's always with you, before school, during school, after school and even during the holidays! (no wonder you're so close) and he doesn't mind, his mother is always tearing up as she watches her son watch you hold the crayon whole and scribble on a paper, and when you invite him to draw with you? ack! two cuties trying their best to draw each other.
(turns out to look like human blobs, one with grey hair with green streaks and one with [h/c]!! the eyes are disproportional but what can you expect from 5/6 year olds..)
al haitham who stays silent and listens as you yell at him out of anger when he accidentally loses a doll you gave him, he's clearly upset that you're mad at him but now he's mad at you, why are you yelling at him he did nothing wrong!!
this results in you ignoring him (it was a pain) and of course, al haitham hates it when you ignore him. so as usual, he asks his mother to give you a bag full of your favourite candies. you forgive him in less than a minute.
al haitham doesn't own much toys and likes books, any book. even if he can't read them he finds the pictures interesting. so he's more than elated when he sees that you got him new books on his birthday or even as a surprise gift!!
sometimes you lend him your toys so that you two could play together, you were taught to share of course. you often force him to play barbie dolls with you, not that he minds, it's just... does he really have to put on a girly voice for raquelle?
he swears that he won't ever play this game with you ever again after his friends caught him playing with you. (but secretly he continues to do so after making sure no one is around)
!!! playing family!!! you're always the mother who works hard by playing soccer and earning no money whatsoever while al haitham is the father who stays home and reads books. for some odd reason he feels this tingly feeling in his heart when he plays this game with you. what if one day when you're both older and live together with 5 exotic cats and wolves? what a dream.
al haitham who recieves a paper from his teacher that states "what is your dream?" for a class activity and immediately you pop up in his mind. his dream... is to make you happy. other than reading all the books in the world and making his mama and papa proud!
he gets upset when you aren't here with him for a day or more, say, you're on a holiday in another country or state, boy is he gonna be pestering and begging his mother to see you!! please, he needs to go there right now!!! (ever heard of face time?)
later in the years al haitham's always embarrassed when his mother brings that up, saying that it's "not true" but then completely freezes when his mother takes out her phone, saying "oh no worries, i have a video recording!!" and turns to face you, smiling. the way the colors drain from his face.
who is afraid to lose you after his mother came into his room and sat by the edge of his bed, her hand caressing his soft hair. "my dear boy," she would say softly, her gaze so soft and gentle.
"is it okay it mama comes in?" al haitham nods his head, how could he ever deny his mother's request?
"thank you baby, now, mama has something to say. don't be too scared now, okay?" al haitham nods, continung to lie down on his best tucked in nicely.
"people come and go, al, you will understand one day but... sigh, mommy and daddy have to tell you something."
ever since then he's sure to do whatever it takes to make you happy, he doesn't want you to leave him, ever. not like you would ever!!
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