#you made yourself ugly you look insane

[toytulini]

man the thing about beauty standards and being ugly and being pretty and being insecure is that ultimately you do just kinda have to Decide that youre pretty. like ultimately thats how you become pretty, or hot, or sexy. you have to just Decide that you Are. you have to recognize that its made up, its arbitrary, its subjective, and that people might disagree with you about it, and as much as you are able, you need to completely and utterly disregard their opinions on your appearance, and decide that youre pretty now. and THEN.

you need to find beauty in "ugly". you need to recognize that ugly is made up, that its arbitrary, that its subjective, and you need to be able to find the beauty in it all. and this means you cant bodyshame people. you cant body shame shitty celebs or politicians. you need to base your criticisms on the substance of their character and misdeeds and unhinged horrific opinions and not give a shit about what they look like. you cant go calling people ugly for being shitty. you cant go calling people ugly for looking A Way You Dont Like.

and then if you wanna really galaxy brain this shit you start using ugly as endearment. OBVIOUSLY do not fucking call other human beings ugly. that shit is far too loaded, its just Rude. Dont call specific features of people or even characters ugly cos thats also too loaded. as a term it has baggage. but you can see the ugly in tacky, loud, garish clothing, and it can be Good. you can see the ugly in a distinctive, horrible tiny car from the 90s, and it can be good. you can see the ugly in animals that have evolved to look the way they do, without a single thought of what humans find appealing. you can see the beauty and the freedom in "Ugliness". you can break out of this shit altogether and feel nothing but disdain for anyone who stoops to insulting your appearance if they disagree with you about shit. you can get completely out of the cave of these beauty standards. you can find it so freeing to revel.in letting yourself be ugly. in recognizing that the way you look and exist might be ugly to some people, and youre out of the cave enough to simply recognize. thats just your opinion and it doesnt matter. didnt ask.

you can look at ppl arguing about the correct amount of skincare products to use daily, the Correct Amount of makeup, and whether or not its radical to conform to beauty standards or defy them and argue about is it really conforming if visible makeup pisses men off, and you can say, well I dont care about any of that, I recognize the societal pressures of flawless skin and all that but you see,

I just want to look like a silly little clown :o3

[inklore]

does it feel good?

— qimir x f!reader

premise: he is your beginning, the whole reason you have made peace with the darkness inside your head, and you know someday he may become your end. whether by his saber or by him finally consuming completely. you welcome both.

contents: established master x acolyte dynamics, shared force bond, unprotected p in v, foreplay, light choking, biting, scars and burn marks mentioned, death, teasing, over stimulation | wc: 2.7k+

note: i love that we all saw the water scene and went yeah that's for the smut writers. glad we are collectively going insane over this man.

The moons paint the water in a shimmering light that bathes its surface in sapphire that fades to the deepest of blacks the longer you stare into it. The waves that hit against the ragged stones are like a siren call to your aching body. 

Your muscles are still tight and coiled from earlier. Your molars grind together when you lift your arms to pull off your ruined and stained clothes. A burning sensation felt through your body as the fabric covering your torso moved against every burn, cut, and bruise you had acquired tonight. 

You didn’t stop by a reflective surface to check how many battle scars you’d earned. Badges of honor. More wounds worn like metals placed on your neck by a pleased master. Wounds, he’ll help you heal, stitch up, seal with the press of his palm to the tattered skin—stolen supplies from planets you can’t remember the name of with faces you can only remember the dead eyes of, used on the ones that don’t close up right.

The moonlight makes them look less serious. The illumination colored the dried blood and tissue into something misty. Almost tantalizing to the eye. Unlike the light of day, where you’re sure it will look less glamorizing. The ugly truth of the way your skin is going to bubble up and mold over to protect itself once the healing process begins is less glaring in this hue. 

Your toe dips into the water. It’s always warmer than you think it to be. Always welcoming you in like it’s been waiting for you to return. Waiting to wash away the grim and blood that seemed more permanent on your skin than your own flesh. 

You wade at the edge for a bit, pushing around the water with your feet. The water wading at your ankles. 

The ringing hasn’t stopped. 

It rarely does until you’ve closed your eyes and settled it. Until your body is less taut, muscles released from the on switch of fight. The power inside your veins thrumming like a wasp trying to free itself from the tissue of your bones. 

As if it had gotten stuck in there and couldn’t find its way out. Refusing to settle down or leave until you’ve maimed, avenged, and proved yourself—leaving your body and muscles in their current state. 

You’re not worried about something being in the water. If there were, you would have been able to feel it. Sense it’s beating heart and the danger of allowing it to keep beating. You’re alone as you walk further into the water, sinking into it’s depths until your body is completely engulfed. Your neck and head the only things going untouched. 

The freshly made badges on your skin burn when you scrub your thumb along the edges of them. Specks of dried blood float along the surface of the water before they’re lost to the darkness below. 

Amongst the ringing in your head, you can hear the screams of anger that tore from your lungs when the Jedi had gotten the upper hand. The green of his saber leaving red against your skin. Making your moves turn from confident to something rage fueled. 

Somewhere among the ringing, you know his scream is in there. Amongst the many cries for help and cracking bones. 

They always linger. Always hold on like a power pack to your dark side. 

You know your body won’t fully relax until you’ve stopped the ringing, though. You didn’t believe in blessings or curses. Bad fortune or good. Everyone’s life ended the same way. If you did believe in the farce, you would think the ringing that goes from the base of your skull to the drums of your ears was a curse. 

A quiet mind is a blessing. 

The buzz of the force within you too heady when you're in the throes of battle. War. Darkness. It’s always been like that. Even before him. 

It’s only gotten worse with him beside you. Like the bond the two of you had opened too much too deep and you feel everything more clearly. More unfortunately. 

He taught you how to silence it. To reign it in after the adrenaline and pace of your heart slowed. 

There were still things you had to learn. Things you were kept from knowing by your old master, the one who only saw one way to wield your power. A cowardly excuse for a master whose burial you wish you could have witnessed. 

It’s aggravating, almost. Anger inducing for sure. 

Someone not believing you are capable of knowing the truth about the power you wield. It’s criminal to not allow someone to be their true self all because of a set of rules that only benefited one group of people. One way of living, when there were so many. 

Your aggravation has faded by now. The anger is still there and buzzes through you. But you no longer feel like a part of you has been held back. Stunted and aching like your chest had for years—as if a rock had found itself in the base of your heart and took up rent there—until Qimir showed you the way. 

Your true self. 

Your full potential and all you were capable of. 

All that had been inside of you, held back for so long. 

Filling your lungs with air, you sink yourself under the water and hold yourself there. Eyes closing as you center yourself. Slow the wasp in your marrow to something dull. Stop the ringing in your ears until all you can hear is the hum of the water hitting the rock above the surface. 

Just you and the force. 

Just you and the water. 

Until you feel him. 

Until he’s there inside your mind.

Until you feel a hand at the base of your skull, fingertips brushing at the nape of your neck to let you know he’s not just in your head. He’s beside you.

Your eyes meet once you’ve filled your lungs with air again, and you wipe the water droplets from your lids. 

You watch him splash water against his neck, running the palm of his hand along the dirt and grime that clings to his skin. Cleaning himself of any traces of the deaths the two of you have left in your wake tonight. 

His calm demeanor always pulls you back from the edge. Always brings a calmness to your blood. To the beating of your heart. Even when shit has gone haywire, his demeanor never switches up. Never slips into something that could be labeled as sloppy or driven by anything other than who he truly is. What he’s made of. 

His calm seeping through your shared bond until you have no choice but to relax.

The handful of times you’ve seen that calmness turn into something animalistic, it’s made you envious, on the same hand, it’s made the space between your thighs burn. 

“You did well tonight.” 

“The smell of my burning flesh still clinging to my senses says differently.” 

The corner of his mouth lifts in amusement, “you did well.” He repeats. Ducks his head forward to wet his hair. His fingers running through the strands, droplets falling down his face. Your eyes follow them all the way down the column of his neck to his chiseled collar bones. 

It doesn’t take one wielding the force to know what your mind is projecting. Doesn’t matter that the two of you share a part of your brain. The thoughts of past nights spent together, Qimir teaching you the ways desire can be wielded and used to your advantage—or disadvantage, depending on how you look at it. 

Your face turns from him. Eyes moving up to the moon. 

Trying to hold back your thoughts the way he taught you. Even if it is futile against him.

“How do you feel?” 

Has the ringing stopped, Is what he’s really asking. Do you need another lesson? Are you still weakened by that ailment? That curse? 

Except he wouldn’t be as dramatic as that. Not with this. Not ever. Especially when it came to your power. Your capabilities. The perfect little acolyte he’s trained you to be. 

“Fine.” Your answer clipped, honest. Because you are fine, and your stubbornness will not allow you to let this turn into another lesson about you not being able to be as calm and collected as he is. No shadows of doubt lingering over who he truly is. His purpose. His wants. His desires. His darkness. 

He’s always been able to read right through you, though. Even without taking up space in your being. The force has little to do with that fact. 

You were never afraid of the darkness that lived inside of you. Never afraid of the power you could wield and the lives you could take. 

The only time you’ve felt true fear is being seen. 

Accepted. 

The potential to let someone of importance down and not withhold your end of a deal you’ve inked your name in blood just to be beside. To prove yourself to someone who’s your equal. Another half of your very being.

His face shows nothing but that calm amusement when he wades behind you. His fingers moving against your skin in an act to rid you of the spots of dirt you’ve missed on your neck and shoulders. 

Swallowing hard when his fingers scrape against past scars, he lingers there for a beat. Running the pad of them against the raised skin. A whisper in your head. 

You heal beautifully.

It’s a softness you’d never thought him to be capable of when you found out who he truly was. The man behind the mask. Even if the unmasking had been done unintentionally. 

It’s not softness you feel from his touch, though. No, his touch eases the strain in your muscles, only to gather itself in your belly. Your body burning with anticipation, knowing how this goes. 

How you’re rewarded when you impress him. 

When you do as you are told, your master is ever the generous one. 

“You’ve proven yourself tonight.” His lips brush against the tip of your spine, “killing without a weapon, not stopping until you were the last one standing. Freeing yourself from the ones who held you back for so long.” Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when his mouth presses down on that same spot at the beginning of your spine. 

A hand snaking around your throat, his palm wet and warm against your collarbones as he pulls your neck at just the right angle to have you looking at him. 

“Did it feel good?” 

“Yes.” You swallow, wrap your fingers around his wrist. “It always does.” You whisper, your eyes flashing down to the upturn of his lips. 

His nose runs along your cheek to your temple, his eyes closed, inhaling you. “I can always smell it. When you let yourself become one with the darkness. Right before you take a life.” His thumb runs a circle against the vein, which tells him the pace of your heart has picked up. As if he’d need it to know, as if the two of you don’t share something that links you completely to the other. “It still lingers. It’s distracting.” 

It’s not a question, but you nod. Your eyes flutter when he pushes his hips forward, and the hardness of his cock moves against your ass. 

He doesn’t ask permission, the two of you knowing you’re past such kindnesses, when his hand cups your mound. He knows what your body needs right now. What it wants, what it’s expecting. He can feel it too. His index and middle fingers spread your pussy, giving him access to that pleasure point on your body that only he knows how to stroke just right to have you pliant and singing for him. 

As if you were not already devoted to him. As if he were not your reason for being.

He’s your beginning, and you have no doubt he will be your end if it comes to it. 

The pad of his finger circles your clit in that slow way that lets you know he’s going to take his time with you. Going to drain every last bit of strain and tightness from your muscles, pushing that buzz between your legs and making him the only sound in your head—until he thinks you have had enough. 

Until your reward is good enough for him to be satisfied with how you took it. Until he knows your mind is back where it needs to be—here, with him. 

His mouth meets the hand at your throat, his teeth sinking into the parts his fingers aren’t pressing into. “You’re everything I could have hoped for.” His tongue laps against your pulse.

Perfect.

You may never know if he actually means the words; you can only feel what he allows you to feel through your shared connection. He’s better at blocking than you. But he knows you need to hear these praises. Knows how good and pliable it will make you. His words stoke the fire inside your soul that burns through your darkness. That allows you to become completely consumed by him and the desire to be on this side. 

Of being free. 

What he does allow you to feel lets you know there is some truth somewhere in there. You can feel it in how hard his cock thrusts against your ass when your body pushes back into him. You can feel it in the way his thoughts stream through your mind. 

So obedient.

Your cunt’s so greedy for me.

You’re mine.

The skin on your fingers stings from gripping the rocks in front of you. The pain you should feel from the heel of your palm digging into the jagged stones, lost in the haze of pleasure consuming your body. 

Qimir consuming every last part of your being. 

Taking over every dark corner of your mind and not letting you feel or hear anything but him.

Your moans become more shaky, your chest heaving as you pant and curse. The weight of the finger on your clit grows heavier, faster, deliriously good the more you near your orgasm. 

Your lips are moving in inaudible words. Words he understands, making him grin against your jaw. 

“You want my cock tonight?” You know he’s read your mind, or rather, your body. Know he can feel what you desire and crave. What your minds begging him for. “Hmm, do you think you’re deserving of that big of a prize? You spill a little blood, and suddenly you’re greedy.” He hums, “you did well. Do you think you deserve it, though? No?” 

Heat burns your cheeks; his chuckle makes you sob into the night air. The stubbornness to please and be as perfect as your counterpart wants you to be is not in favor of the mounting pressure that’s building in your pussy right now. 

“I already think you’re perfect; don’t push it.” His foot pushes easily at your ankles. Your thighs spread enough for the head of his cock to press against your entrance and thrust inside. 

“Mmm,” you whine at the stretch. Your eyes fluttering closed at your swollen walls being filled. Walls that tighten around him as he sets a fast pace. Matching the rhythm and stroke of his fingers. Sending your body on an overwhelming precipice of a carnal need to come. 

The heaviness of his breath as he says your name against your skin—the quick flashes of the pleasure he feels from being inside of you—is what finally sends you over the edge. 

Your orgasm rocking through you like a storm. Your body shaking against him, walls fluttering and squeezing around his cock, making him groan. Your throat raw and scratchy from the noise that’s pulled up from your lungs when everything in your body is set completely aflame. 

Your hand falling from the rocks, and pressing your nails into his wrist, trying to pull his hand from between your thighs. The over-stimulation of his finger moving against your clit even after your orgasm has passed makes you cry out and ripple the water around the two of you as you squirm. 

The tip of his cock hits that spot inside you that makes your vision go white. That falters your fight against his torment. 

“You can do better than one. You deserve it, don’t you?”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello could I please request civilian!reader staring at the batboys for a long time and goes “why are you so perfect and handsome, I’m so lucky to have you and I will protect you with my tiny body and hands” 🌸

Idk whether or not this is what you wanted anon but I hope you like it at least in some way 😂

Jason can’t help but let out a full belly laugh upon hearing your declaration after having stared at him for a full hour, as he walked over to you to cup your face in his hands and rest his head against yours.

‘How sweet you of chipmunk, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind whenever I’m in trouble.’ He murmurs as his thumbs stroked your cheeks.

He found it extremely endearing and sweet that you would ever go out of your way to protect someone like him but he preferred if you were to stay at home where it was relatively safe. Jason cared way too much about you to loose you, even if the comment was made in a lighthearted way.

Gotham was far too cruel for someone like you and you both knew it, the city was bound to swallow you whole before you even made it down the street.

The other thing that stuck in Jason’s mind how you thought he was perfect and handsome, to which he would always respond with;

‘I’m far from being either of those things chipmunk, but I’ll take the compliment.’

Jason didn’t view himself as an ugly dude but nor did he think of himself as handsome either, he grew up in Crime Alley and was taken in by a billionaire, he never had times to focus on the way he looked or acted in the eyes of others. Until you of course.

To Jason, Dick was someone many would consider a handsome and perfect man while those same many often regarded him as the complete opposite under the same breath. So whenever you held his face in your hands and called him handsome or perfect with a look of utter love and adoration in your eyes, Jason can’t help but find himself slowly starting to believe that he was in fact a handsome man.

If anything Jason views himself as the one who is lucky to have someone as good and as perfect as you and he reminds you of it day and night, whether he was Jason Todd, your perfect man or Red Hood, feared vigilante of Gotham.

Dick: found it really cute that you thought you could protect him, someone who had the insane flexibility and agility of a cat, but he wasn’t one to crush your dreams and aspirations.

‘My hero has finally come to save me?’ He’d gasp dramatically as he practically falls into your arms, causing you to buckle under his weight and collapse on the bed and giggle at his theatrics.

However he wouldn’t dare let you put yourself in danger in any way shape or form for the likes of him, he refused it as this life had nothing but take and take and take from him anything and everything he held dear.

He still remembered how he felt partially responsible for Jason’s death that he tries to make up for it by being in his corner when it seemed as though everyone thought ill of him.

So Dick really doesn’t want you going and pulling the heroic card on him as he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it, he’d act like he could when in reality he was doing far worse then anyone could imagine. So it be better if you let him do the saving.

Now Dick was aware of his own attractiveness and appeal but when you were the one calling him perfect and handsome, he’s smiling widely and internally kicking his feet and saying silly shit like;

‘You still have a crush on me? How embarrassing for you.’ To which you respond with ‘Dick we’ve been dating for 8 months-‘

When anyone else calls Dick handsome they are pointing out an already pre established fact, but when you’re the one saying he’s handsome it has more meaning as it felt as though he was being shown something that he never knew was there before. He lived for every time you called him handsome and it wasn’t because of an ego thing, he just like you calling him handsome and would never want to live in reality where he never heard you say it ever again.

Damian;

‘I can protect us both without issue so there’s no need for that.’

He sometimes takes your word a little too literally, regardless whether you were joking or not.

He was the crime fighter out of you both, so just let him do all the fighting, he doesn’t want your eyes to be burdened with the violence and criminal activity that he was accustomed to.

Also when you called him perfect and handsome, Poor Damian didn’t know what to think as it wasn’t something he viewed himself as nor expected anyone outside of his family to either.

He could handle insults and such but soft words laced with love and care towards him was an entirely new feeling for him in general that it both scared and excited him simultaneously. Besides Damian wasn’t interested in tibial things such as being conventionally attractive or whatever troubles the average person, he never thought it of any importance when other things took presidency in his life.

However when you compliment him, Damian couldn’t help but feel as though he was a little boy again, he would feel himself stiffen for a moment before the appropriate response came to him as easy as breathing, because caring for you was as easy as breathing to Damian and he’d do anything to make sure you were safe and sound wherever you are; for without you he’d be deeply lost.

[urlocaldesertdweller]

How far he is willing to go for you (Stanford x reader)

angst at first, then fluff

During his youth as much as you want to ignore it, he is going to put his studies and knowledge before you, especially when he starts to put all of his focus on the source of anomalies in Gravity Falls.

At first, you were fine with this. After all, you thought that this obsession for finding out about the truth was going to pass.

It only grew, as much as you wanted to ignore the cold empty spot in your once shared bed.

This obsession only grows once he meets Bill. Curiosity kills the cat. You couldn't stand any of it, the overbearing loneliness was becoming too much. And even the time you can tell that he hasn't been taking care of himself both physically and mentally.

He snaps at you when you even try to get him to go outside. He'd go into rambles and mutter about how you could never understand what is upon humanity with his greatest work in progress. You are stunned, to say the least.

You know it is hopeless to argue, he will only return back into that dusty, suffocating basement.

You went out by the time Stanford was pulled into that portal looking for a new place to stay.

But something brings you back to that dreaded cabin. And you saw "Stanford" acting different...something screamed that it wasn't your Stanford.

You are quick to see through the imposter's BS as you become aggressive and confrontational. You were never afraid to pull up a gun your Ford made and gave you for "emergencies".

The imposter turns out to be Stanford's twin brother as you continue to draw out more information while you learn more about Ford's family. Stan mutters under his breath a snarky comment about how Ford's managed to marry another equally as crazed weapon-wielding manic.

The news of hearing that the very same reason Stanford has been killing himself over has now trapped him in some dimension makes you feel sick. Stanly only tells you this, you are the only person he tells about the accident, he tells you to tell absolutely no one if you want to work together to start the portal back up once more for Ford.

You can't bear to live in that house anymore, especially over time you watch Stanley turn the home you once loved with Ford with all of your heart into a tourist trap. But you keep your mouth shut about your opinion against Stan, you only come around that ugly home to just hide yourself in the cold basement to work on the portal.

You went from lonely to lonely and bitter. Despite everything you thought about Ford in the last few times you interacted with him, you still loved him. Even if it felt like he was choosing a doomsday device over you. You are sure to remind yourself you get that sucker back in your arms you'll punch some sense into him.

Throughout the painfully long 30 years that have passed, you work tirelessly on the portal, looking for the other two journals, and struggling to keep yourself on the ground from going insane over this damn portal. Its form mocks you every time you look at it, only seeing it as the reason why Ford started to go nuts.

The summer when the new Pines twins come into town gives you another reason to drive you toward the future. From Mabel's lovely personality and lighthearted jokes to Dipper's similar antics to...Fords. The kids kept you grounded, and frankly, you treated them like your own, willing to do anything to keep them safe from any harm.

...

You'd never thought you finally see the portal open up once more after nearly destroying the entire town and getting arrested but the American government.

The figure walks out of the portal covered up from head to toe looking like from another time and world.

Your racing heart slows down as Stan explains to the twins that it was the author of the journals, his brother. To you, its Stanford the love and light of your life.

Things settle down as Ford punches Stan and then rants about how dangerous it was starting the portal again, the comment strikes a nerve. After 30 years, have you been working for this attitude for 30 fucking years?

Ford looks around looking at the new company, then his eyes lay on you wide as ever. They soften as he steps forward stretching out a hand. His tone changes to the quietest volume ever. The quick mood change confuses everyone in the room but you and Ford. Mabel is quick to catch on and gasp watching the old couple tension between you and Ford.

You tighten your face as you fist your hand and go straight into his cheek. It's your turn to rant now. From how he acted before the accident to the ungratefulness of bringing him back.

He frowns rubbing his pink cheek but he lets you rant and rant until you're out of breath, those 30 years made him forget how awful he became towards you and he completely regrets every second of it. He knows that he deserves you to be mad at him but his heart aches to touch you, feel you, and love you.

Mabel's widened grin along with everyone else is stunned by your punch and long-winded ranting of serious and complex situations within your relationship. You finish off finally with your arms tightly crossed.

The tension becomes completely awkward and everyone holds their breath looking between you and guilty-looking Ford. Stan definitely feels the weight of guilt is lifted from your interaction with Ford.

...

Ever since that day, your relationship has been rough for the first few days have been rough, Ford knew how you worked, you needed time that's all.

Eventually, you hold your breath and start talking to Ford within the first week. Of course, you'd never find yourself holding a grudge against your husband, especially at your age.

It's slow and bittersweet when Ford starts to blabber on about how sorry he was both how he treated you and his bitter reaction towards Stan and you turn on the machine for his return. To which he actually says thank you to you. It ends with both of you sniffling and tightly hugging one another, with Ford's fingers digging into your arms as if afraid of losing you once again.

Needless to say ever since that day and 30 years, he will put you before anything else. Forget the research, forget the studies, forget everything just not you.

...

As the days go by you feel a feeling you haven't felt in years, love, for your husband you thought not only fell out of love but also was lost to whatever dimension claimed him by the portal.

You both felt like a pair of flirty teenagers back in high school, from kisses, hand-holding, and cuddles. If you were ever to do it in front of the twins including Stan, he would cover the twins' eyes to which he'll remind the two of you that you have an unwanted audience and to also get a room.

Stanford would also spend nearly all of his time with you, including having you have a more important role in his smaller projects and adventures!

Stanford would sketch you in whatever journal he jots his thoughts in. Mainly admiring how beautiful you along writing small poems about you. What a charmer.

Nearly every day he always makes sure to express his gratitude both for you waiting for him and starting the portal up for him. He'll have those moments where the past comes up to him and he feels guilt once more, he will hide away or just seem down even around you.

Of course, you'll be there to reassure him with both words and kisses which also brightens up his mood and face. It seems that no matter how old and how long your marriage will last he will always get all shy with kisses.

From his lips, cheeks, forehead, hands, each finger and knuckle, neck, literally anywhere. Bonus points if you wear lipstick and the kiss marks stay, he won't realize it until someone besides you points it out. He won't wipe it away though, he wears them like a medal of honor from your love.

If you were to ever renew your vows, Stanford is completely on board by the way. It's the youngest you'll ever feel. You both look dashing in your old, or new ceremony outfits. The twins of course were proud as ever no matter the timing for both their grunkle and in-law finding love even in the fit of chaos. <3

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

beautiful mess | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick knows exactly how to comfort you in a moment of insecurity.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, menstruation, fluff, boyfriend!finnick being a cutie patootie, angst, mild hurt/comfort, insecurity, a little overdramatic but it’s cute idc

notes: about to get my period so this is kind of self-indulgent lmao. the number of times I rewrote this is insane. i hope i didn’t disappoint <3

“You know, I think I could pull off one of those long wizard beards,” Finnick said, admiring himself in the bathroom mirror as he shaved down the slight stubble on his jaw. “Those ones that go down to your chest? I could decorate it with little seashells and twine. It’d look hot, don’t you think?”

His playful words didn’t register in your mind.

Frustrated tears threatened to spill as the hairbrush in your hand tugged harshly at the roots of your hair. Nausea was bubbling in your stomach as you stared at your reflection, feeling as though not a single human being in history had ever looked as ugly as you did right now.

“Sweetheart?”

Here you were standing next to a Greek god, meanwhile, your skin was all hot and blotchy, your hair was a tangled mess, and your stomach was aching something awful. Christ, you hated being on your period.

A hard lump was lodged in your throat; you tried to swallow it, but there was no use. Warm tears had already begun to stream down your cheeks. Unable to bear the sight of yourself any longer, you turned away from the mirror. As you reached for the bathroom door handle, a sharp unexpected cramp pierced at your insides, causing your legs to buckle and collapse to the cold tiled floor.

That was the last straw. You just couldn’t hold it in anymore. A disharmony of cries burst from your lips, reverberating around the small room as your shuddering body folded over itself. Curse the Fates for having you been born a girl.

Finnick, now switched to panic mode, quickly dropped to his knees before you, eyes wide and alert.

“Hey, hey!” he said soothingly as his hand moved to rub your back in support, though he wasn’t even sure what he was supporting.

A thousand-and-one distressing thoughts flew through his mind. Had someone died? Were you injured? Were you dying? Obviously, these ideas were a little irrational considering you were just standing next to him a second ago. But seeing the love of his life in pain and not knowing why made him fear the absolute worst.

“Baby, what happened? What’s wrong?”

All you could do was sob in response. You felt pathetic. Stupid, ugly, and pathetic. “How can you—” Another sob left your lips— “stand to look at me?!”

You could feel his hand stop moving which, illogically, made you even more upset.

“What?” he asked quietly. “What do you mean ‘stand to look at you’? Please, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

Finally, you forced yourself to sit up, revealing the tears that streaked your distraught expression. Finnick’s brows scrunched together, almost like he was in pain watching you in such a state of disarray. He tried to think of anything he might’ve done to make you feel this way because, of course, the first thing Finnick Odair would do was blame himself. But nothing came to mind.

Your heavy heart sank—he looked so worried. A part of your brain knew you were overreacting. Justa little bit. It made you feel even more terrible, knowing he was panicked simply because you didn’t like how you looked. Nevertheless….

“I look so ugly!” you cried. “My hair is all knotted, my face is all red and gross, my stomach is cramping, and—and… I’m just a mess!” You buried your face in your hands. “Why are you even with me?”

Shock was an understatement compared to what Finnick felt when those words left your mouth. Never in a million years would he believe someone like you—someone who looked like you—could ever possibly be insecure about their appearance, and now, of all times.

He gently reached out and removed the hands that shielded your face. You attempted to turn away to conceal yourself in shame, in fear that if he got too close, he would discover your flaws and see you the way you saw yourself. But he caught your chin with a single finger and compelled you to meet his gaze.

Yes, your skin was a little red and your eyes were a little bloodshot, but that didn’t mean you looked ugly. In fact, your rosy cheeks glowed with such radiance that the teardrops falling from your crystalline eyes looked like shimmering diamonds. Your lips, which were slightly quivering, were reddened and plump—an alluring contrast to the hue of your skin.

Not that he would say it given the insensitivity and selfishness of admitting such a thought, but he believed you cried quite beautifully.

“Because I don’t think you’re a mess,” Finnick said softly, ironically tucking multiple disordered strands of hair behind your ear. “You’re human, and you don’t need to look or feel perfect all the time. That’s why you’ve got me—I’ll always think the most of you. And when you’re feeling this way, I’ll always remind you so too.”

You tried to allow his compassionate words to seep into your brain, tried to turn his beliefs into your own. However, the storm of emotions inside your mind was refusing to dissipate. The insecurities just wouldn’t subside and Finnick could see it in your glossy eyes.

“Listen to me,” he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that fell across your skin. “Waking up and seeing your gorgeous face next to mine? That’s what gives me the strength to get up every morning. Those imperfections you’re so adamant about? They only make me love you so much more.

I love every part of you. Every so-called flaw, every tangled strand of hair on that pretty little head of yours.” He grinned as he consolingly ran his fingers through your hair which, in his opinion, was perfectly soft and smooth. “You’re my girl and nothing will ever make me want it any other way.”

Hearing his declaration had your heart aching in your chest. Your hand curled around his arm, needing some physical anchor to the reassuring words he spoke. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice, a sure-fire sign that he was telling the truth.

You realised you never had to worry about Finnick finding you unattractive. Though you were a little worried he was partially blind which, unfortunately, represented your own seemingly unshakeable insecurities.

“I wish I could see myself the way you do,” you whispered, voice hoarse from crying.

“I know,” he sighed. “I know, but just give it time. One day you’ll look back and wonder what the hell you were thinking. I mean, you? Ugly? Sweetheart, we might need to get you some glasses.”

You sniffled, lips stretching into a wobbly smile. “You’re an idiot.”

He lifted your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Only for you,” he quipped in response, wearing a light-hearted smirk on his lips. “Come here.”

He opened his arms, beckoning you to seek solace in his embrace. You scooted closer, sinking into his broad chest as his arms enveloped you. Your legs were folded awkwardly beneath your body and Finnick’s back ached from the lack of support behind him, but neither of you seemed to mind.

What is love without a little suffering?

His hand stroked the length of your hair, curling random strands between his fingers in admiration. Your fingertips danced across his tanned skin, amorously tracing the words ‘I love you’ over and over. You weren’t sure if he even noticed; it didn’t really matter. The sentiment remained true.

You listened to his heart beating centimetres from your ear. Thump. Thump. Thump. And you were grateful it beat for you. You were so, so grateful for Finnick. For his strong arms that soothed you in their embrace. For his lips that released a swarm of butterflies in your stomach with just a quirk of their corners. For his voice that could lift you from the deepest, darkest pit at any given moment.

So, when you whispered, “Thank you,” it was much more than a show of appreciation for his words of reassurance. It was gratitude for his existence. His entire being. For his love which echoed your own.

“Always,” he whispered in return.

Time began to pass but you remained in the same position—holding each other closely, dearly. And then as more minutes passed, rationality began to set in. You were thinking about apologising for your dramatics, but Finnick had other ideas.

“Wait, did you say your stomach’s cramping?” he asked suddenly. You simply nodded. “Are you on your period?”

Your head turned to bury your face against his chest in embarrassment. “Yes,” your voice muffled into his shirt.

Finnick grinned to himself. He didn’t want to play the stereotype card but knowing that detail helped him understand your actions a little better now.

“Well,” he began, gently coaxing you away from his chest so he could look into your eyes. “How about you come sit with me in the kitchen, hm?” He caressed the line of your cheekbone as he spoke. “I’ll cook you some pancakes and then we can both melt into the couch all day. Does that sound good?”

You pretended to think about it for a moment, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

He made some noise between a chuckle and a scoff. “Of course. Anything else would be a culinary tragedy.”

“Oh, Finnick Odair,” you proclaimed theatrically, winding your arms around his neck as you pulled yourself further against him. “How I love you so.”

In response, his face lit up with a stupidly lovesick grin. This man will be the absolute death of me, you silently swore. You couldn’t help but lean in and press a soft endearing kiss to each dimple that hollowed his cheeks; doing so only made his smile stretch impossibly wider.

The touch of his deft fingertips settled on the sides of your cheeks, holding your face in his hands like it was his most prized possession—technically, you were. His smile never disappeared as he leaned forward, kissing you with such ardent affection that you were afraid your heart might give out from the consuming potency of his adoration.

It tasted like salt, your tears having now dried on your lips. More importantly, it tasted like love. Warm, sweet, syrupy love.

You pulled away, murmuring against his lips, “You would look hot with a wizard beard, by the way."

He chuckled lightly, sustaining the five-second break before returning to your lips to whisper the words, “I knew it.”

[redr0sewrites]

Can you write Vox x reader where like the reader just says like really unhinged things and just like vile things whenever they rage and stuff like the internet could be slow or smth and the reader is just like “IM GOING TO RIP OFF MY SKIN” idk man I’m kinda just self projecting rn like you can right anything with it tbh idk sorry for rambling anyway you don’t have to do this if you don’t wanna

THIS IS SO MEEEEE I LOVE THIS IDEA SM!!! sorry it took me a hot minute to reply to this i have over 70 hazbin hotel requests in my inbox 😭

🥀Cw: fluff, crack, silly vox

when he first met you, vox was charmed by your seemingly sweet nature- that is, until you were pissed

your unholy screech of how you were going to rip off your skin if he cut the wifi again was both endearing and confusing in his eyes

vox would just short circuit for a second, just blinking at you while he tries to process what you just said

once it clicks, he just starts giggling. vox very rarely genuinely laughs, most of his laughs are professional or part of the persona he adopts as the leader of vox enterprises, but when he's so shocked by what you just said, he can't control the booming laughter thay fills the room

he's wheezing and gasping, each barking laugh only pissing you off more

"what's so funny? if you keep laughing i am going to fucking break ur fingers like carrot sticks!" you snap, and vox only giggles harder

after a few seconds, you can't help but notice how adorable his laughter is, and soon you don't mind it as much

once you two are officially together, you notice how stressed vox often is, yet how he seems to visibly relax around you

the batshit crazy things you say, which normally disgusts other people, only seem to amuse him

its actually a wonderful dynamic because you bring some spontaneity and slight insanity into vox's otherwise irritating and depressing lifestyle, and vox balances out the crazy things you say and calms you down every time

you often find yourself searching for new phrases to baffle him with, and for new ways to make him laugh

after vox has a stressful day, he enjoys just listening to you ramble about the most insane things and adores hearing whatever fucked up saying you've adopted recently

vox notices himself beginning to copy your speech patterns. he only begins to realize when he slips in an exceptionally odd metaphor into a work meeting and everyone stares at him, yet his heart skips a beat at the thought

there's something so charming to him about the fact that he's adopting your mannerisms, and you truly make him laugh when no one else can

whenever another one of the vees pisses him off, he always comes to you for advice on incredibly deranged comebacks, and you never disappoint!

he's won multiple arguments by just repeating one of your fucked up sayings and the other vees being too lowkey shocked to disagree

vox LOVES IT when you diss people he hates, hearing you ramble some fucked up insults about alastor made him fall in love with you all over again

"that worm on a string fucked up karen cut bob looking ass- if i see him around here again im going to eat a fucking brick" *cue vox looking at you with the biggest heart eyes*

overall, you are both menaces, but you're menaces in love ♥️

vox lay with his head in your lap, the blue light of his screen illuminating the dim room as you rambled mindlessly about your day.

"and THEN, this fucking asshole tried to flirt with me! ME!! as if he doesn't know were dating! ugh, it makes me feel like i have an entire beehive living beneath my skin. i swear if he even looks at me again im going to lick wet cement i can NOT deal. how can you even work with him? he's such a fucking CREEP voxy, i'm going to cut off those ugly ass wings and shove them so far down his throat- hey, are you even listening?"

you look down to see vox half asleep, his eyelids drooping as his light dimmed. "keep talking.." he murmurs, looking up at you with a lazy smile on his face. "you're my favorite person t' listen to.."

i love the idea of vox with a partner who challenges his very idea of power. he clearly wraps himself in a sort of persona, surrounding himself with powerful people and acting like he's so serious and important. i love the idea of him falling in love with someone who can break down his walls in seconds, someone who can dismantle his entire bravado act and who allows him to truly be himself. this is such a wonderful prompt and i am eating this up. nonnie ur awesome!!!!

[imyourbratzdoll]

I have a request you are up for it. I kind of had this idea where Steve Rogers really screwed the Reader over in their past relationship and cheated on her with Sharon and dumped the reader for her. Even the avengers don't talk to her anymore and made her look like the toxic one in the relationship. two years later it's his and Sharon's wedding day and it was a beautiful and wonderful, however reader returns and decides to kill seek her revenge on Steve and Sharon and the rest of the team. Let's just say she gets it and Steve suffers. (Reader is a witch by the way)😈

hello honey, I hope you like what I've done.

summary - steve cheats on you, causing the team to turn against you to save the world from hating him. years later, you finally seek your revenge.

warning - angst, torture, cheating, dark content, badass female

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

It had been two years since Steve Rogers broke your heart, you thought that would be the worst of it, but the fact the team turned on you and screwed you over by making it seem like you cheated on Captain America, causing the world to hate you, treating you like shit until the point you snapped. If they wanted a bad guy, they’ll get one. 

You sat in a dark room as the tv played, your ex was getting married to the tramp he cheated on you with. Your golden eyes sharpen as you glare at the screen, causing it to explode in sparks. You grin, the whole team would be in that church, making this so much easier for you. 

Your hands glow as you begin to hover, your long black dress falling gracefully around your legs. “Oh, the day that the Avengers fall and all by my hands.” Your laugh echoes throughout the room and you disappear, reappearing in front of the god-awful building. “Oh god, could their taste be any worse?” Your hands face down, levitating toward the church doors and flinging them open with your magic. The whole room falls quiet. “Well, well. Where was my invitation?” 

Your head tilts as Sharon huffs. “You aren’t welcome here!” Your eyes move around the room, connecting with each person. “Hello? Get the fuck out! Didn’t you realise you weren’t welcomed when Steve left you for me?!” 

You smile, your gaze moves back over to hers and you stare. Watching as she shivers under it. “Sharon, Sharon, Sharon. You should know not to mess with a witch, especially a pissed off one.” Your hand flies up, stopping a bullet midair, you slowly tilt your head, looking at the small metal object before your gaze follows where it came from. A grin forms on your face as you connect with Natasha’s. It appears you found something that made the big Black Widow shudder with fear. 

“Y/n, stop this. You are only hurting yourself.” You blink, once, twice, thrice before your laughter fills the room, sending chills up everyone’s spines. “Why are you laughing?! Do you not realise how insane you look right now?!” 

“Sweet, sweet Natasha.” The bullet melts as you direct your hand toward her, lifting her in the air, watching her dangle as she struggles. “I’m not hurting myself, I’ve finally healed from the pain you all put me through. Because, sure I loved Steve and it felt like my heart had been ripped out when he constantly cheated on me with some wannabe tramp. But I could’ve lived through that, what I wasn’t expecting was the heartbreak from the people I considered family.” A growl rumbles within your throat, eyes glowing brighter with each word and emotion. “I can no longer hurt myself when you did a wonderful job of it for me.” You twitch, you can feel the stupid witch trying to enter your mind, her magic feels like something irritating, like a jumper that continues to itch because someone made it out of that horrible fabric.

You continue your hold on Natasha, turning your head, gold meets red. “What are you doing, Little Witch?” You blink, sending her flying across the room, crashing into a row of ugly flowers, causing you to scrunch your nose. “Ew, who chooses weeds for their special day?” You huff, feeling a body slam into you and your other hand reaches out, strangling Vision as he tries to charge again. “What is with you people, don’t you know it’s rude to just attack a person.”

“Y/n stop. That’s enough.” Two years ago, your heart would’ve pounded inside your chest from hearing his voice. But now, your heart lies cold within your body. The rest of the team that you don’t have a hold on, stand, readying for a fight. It felt comedic. “If you don’t leave, we will make you leave.” 

You throw your head back, letting out another chilling laugh before your head falls forward and you glare at your ex. “You make me leave? Do you think you’re stronger than me? You may be Captain America, but deep down you’re just that weak little boy back in the 40s.” You float over to him, black and gold magic building beneath you in a cloud and the anger builds in your veins. Your hands fly back, throwing those you had in your hold against the church walls before you reach in front, releasing all your magic onto the one man, watching him fall to his knees. “You and your team are no match for me, Steve Rogers. You will never be, you will all fall before you even manage to take me with you.” You lower to the ground, standing over him, leaning over, moving your face close enough that it looks as though you are about to kiss. “You will beg me for your life. It may not be today or a year from now, but you will.” You grip his chin between your fingers, forcing him to look into your eyes as you smile. 

Your eyes flash, stopping Tony from approaching, his Iron Man suit begins to slowly enclose on him, squashing him from the inside. “Not so fast, Mr Stark.” Your magic wraps around Steve’s body, keeping him in his position as you turn and face the rest of the Avengers. You look at each and everyone of them, letting your magic explode around you and the room, wrapping around them. “Soon you will all fall, no longer loved, no longer remembered. The world will move on without you and in your demise, you will beg me for help, falling deeper and onto your knees. Sacrificing your beliefs and pride.” You begin to descend from the steps, smirking. “Hm, why don’t I continue to torture you guys some more.” 

With a wave of your hand, all their nightmares come to life. Every single person or thing that they don’t want to face appear in front of them, torturing them, allowing you to sit back and watch with a smile, a glass of wine appears in your hand as you watch them all suffer. A few hours pass and you grow bored, making everything disappear along with yourself. 

While your magic circulated around them, it allowed you to see their future and it gave you many ideas to how you could continue to ruin their lives. Starting with the man who destroyed you. You close your eyes, feeling your spirit escape you and travel back in time, appearing in front of a woman that many looked up to. 

“Peggy Carter.” She spins, looking around for the voice. Your eyes glow and your magic surrounds her. “The love you feel for Steve Rogers will turn into hate, he will appear soon and will want to stay. You will fill his head with every hurtful thing you’ve thought of. You will see who he really is and how much he has changed when he was the smaller version of himself. You will destroy him, rip out his heart and squash it in front of his eyes. He will finally know how it is to feel his heart being broken.” She blinks, walking over to the photo of Steve, staring at it, and wondering why she has it before Peggy grabs the photo and drops it into the bin. 

You smirk, disappearing back into your time and body. Your eyes open with an evil glint, staring right at the readers.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[frankieburieshisdead]

ℬ𝓇𝓊𝒸ℯ 𝒲𝒶𝓎𝓃ℯ 𝓍 ℳ𝒶𝓁ℯ ℳℴ𝒹ℯ𝓁 ℛℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇

cw: NSFW

~ You liked modeling enough. It was exciting, and new, and you got to meet a bunch of people you otherwise wouldn't. For instance, if you could go back to the skinny, slightly effeminate brace face in rural Smallsville and tell him he would be hanging off the Bruce Wayne's arm at a promotional after party in Gotham he would laugh in your face. But here you were, and here he was, all 6ft (6'7? 6'8? God he was intimidating) wrapped around your shoulders, two of the girls from the shoot on his other side. You didn't know either of them very well, but they we're kind to you whenever you crossed paths, and it was always nice to see more black models in the industry.

~ So why did you feel so much vitriol towards them? This ugly feeling curling in your stomach every time Wayne leaned slightly towards them, slightly away from you. You chopped it up to star power, pure unadulterated charm that came with being one of the richest men in the Americas, but as long as it had been, you still remembered what it was like it have a crush.

~ It was hard to not have a crush on Bruce Wayne. He was confident, ridiculously so, but not the kind of confidence that made you feel small. When you arrived, he asked you "Do you like dark chocolate? I can't stand the stuff but for some reason people keep giving it to me." You could see he was lying, and that maybe he had just wanted to give you an expensive box of chocolate without making you feel like you owed him anything. It made you feel special.

~ It didn't take him long to invite the whole party back to his manor. His home was beautiful. Like a castle in one of the picture books your gran used to let you borrow from her job at the library. You told Bruce that, and he had smiled so genuinely you hadn't stopped blushing for the rest of the night.

~ You ended up asking yourself up to his bedroom. One of the bottle girls had popped the cork right over you, drenching your pants in sparkling cider. She had been so apologetic, and you hadn't wanted to make a scene, so you stumbled up the stairs in into the nearest unlocked door you could find. You closed the door behind you, stripping out of your soaked jeans to dab them clean in the joining bathroom.

~ "Not that I'm complaining, but I have to say it's not everyday I find pretty boys stripping out their clothes unprompted in my bedroom." You must have jumped about a foot in the air, hiding behind your thread bare trousers. "Oh god Mr. Wayne I'm so sorry, I just needed- there was this champagne girl- and well-"

"Relax, I'm just teasing." You looked at him properly now, his weary tone bleeding past your initial embarrassment. He was propped up against the bedpost, shirtless with one hand clamped firmly over his ribs. There was a mean purple blotch under his fingers, and his chest rose and fell in stutters. He was in pain.

"What happened?" You were across the room the next second, pants forgotten on the floor as you scooted next to him in your briefs. There was a slight blush across his chest and cheeks. Maybe he was drunk. Maybe you were.

"Got into... a brawl. Nothing serious don't worry." You got the feeling he liked that you were worried. You wondered how many people worried about Bruce Wayne. You had seen an older man in butler attire fussing over him when the party first got here. You hoped he was looked after.

"Well... I best get going." You were inches apart now, you could feel his harsh breath against your top lip.

"Best." He replied, curling his lip to mirror your Midwestern accent.

You fell into him first, crashing your lips against his as his arms came to grip your biceps. He lifted you with an insane show of strength, you squealed into his mouth, ending off in a giggle. He gave that genuine smile again.

~ You were straddling him now, grinding down on a ever hardening length. He gasped into your mouth, squeezing almost painfully as he pressed you firmer against him. He was massaging the v on your waist, teasing just above where you wanted him.

"Can I?"

You nodded manically against his shoulder, the both of you generating a frantic energy. He dipped down, palming you through your underwear.

"Protection?" You managed to pant out, remembering every talk your granny had drilled into you since you came out.

"Bedside drawer."

~ 3 hours. You kept going for 3 hours after that. He had taken you, knees pressed up against your shoulders, hitting all the right spots until you had come dry and untouched. He was still hard inside you, panting and you squeezed your way through your orgasm. He was kind, clearly straining to not thrust forward while you were so sensitive. You hooked your legs behind the dip in his waist and tugged him forward. A dare. The result of which had you on your hands and knees panting and keening after your third, fourth? climax. He was good afterwards as well. Sweet. He held your head up as he poured water from a sealed bottle down your throat, petting through your slim locs. You woke up tucked against his side, unsure if he had even slept a wink as he stared down at you. He had to go, but he had arranged one of the cars for you as soon as you wanted to leave. The butler, Alfred, had cleaned and dried your jeans while you were asleep, although Bruce had made it clear you were welcome to his extensive wardrobe. You giggled, imagining getting back to your apartment in a pair of 1000$ tracksuit pants with the ankles rolled up to your calves.

~ When you finally made it back to your apartment, you patted down your jeans, pleading to whoever was listening that you hadn't lost your keys in the chaos of the previous night. Instead, you pulled out a neatly folded parchment paper, thumbing it open to find barely legible handwriting reading:

555-0199

Call me if you liked the chocolate.

END

[cranberryjuice-posts]

a Clarisse la rue x reader where the reader is blind? it seems good? I just like your writing so I accept any plot you make on top of it

YIPEE‼️‼️

Love is driving me a bit insane

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Child of Aphrodite! Blind! Reader

An - You not the shit bitch You not even the fart‼️‼️‼️

Clarisse knew she had liked you more than a friend since the first time you Met. Ok sure she’ll admit at first she though you were weak for the simple fact you were blind- normally you wore a pair of feminine Prada sunglasses which complimented your skin tone and hair unnaturally well, aswell as adding a sense of beauty to your appearance. which was why it wasn’t a shock when you were claimed my Aphrodite.

Your cabin had been placed on her team for capture the flag. Clarisse at first was annoyed with this since she didn’t know where to place you however after you proved your strengths with your siren like charm speak she fell in love. That and the fact silenas constant battering for her to admit her feelings may or may not of helped

—

Since then clarisse had made it her mission to be around you as much as she could. You enjoyed the attention of the daughter of ares which ended with you two becoming close.

You noticed Alot of things, like how you noticed how strong the bond-fire was in-front of you.. You also noticed when you were close to clarisse, how fidgety she got it was especially noticeable how quiet she got.. you found it cute.

You faced towards clarisse reaching your hand out to grab her arm. The daughter of ares jumped. “Yes what do you need” she almost to quickly responded. You gave a small laugh. “I want some water, if you don’t mind” you flirted.

Clarisse immediately  stood up running off to get you a drink. You laughed to yourself as you heard her yell at different kids stressing about something simple like a water.

People thought they were sly and you were dumb, that just because you couldn’t see somehow that also meant you couldn’t hear.

“She’s a freak i mean have you seen her charm speak— it’s like a monster”

“I bet clarisse just hangs out with her out of pitty”

“Oh definitely she probably only wears those sunglasses because she has ugly eyes, I wonder why Aphrodite even claimed her”

“I know i wouldn’t of”

You gripped your walking stick with anger trying to calm down. “Ok I found a Fiji water from one of your sisters but I also have sparkling thanks to the Hermes cabin and oh! There’s also a—“

“I want to go back to my cabin” You harshly spoke trying to keep the tears at bay. Clarisse set the waters down before crouching infront of you, she touched you knee softly rubbing it. You could feel her harsh stare trying to figure out what was wrong. “Now please” You whispered.

“Yeah.. Yeah ok” she responded.. once back at the cabin you found your way to a bed you assumed was yours before lying down. You hated how people assumed shit about you just because you were blind, at least try to be creative about the insults.

———

The following day went as planned. You went to the straw berry feilds and picked some of the fruit, read some with a few brail books gifted to you by Chiron and walking around camp enjoying yourself.

Clarisse soon found you sitting on a bench laughing with your sister silena. The brighter girl looked over and mouthed a ‘ask her out’ to clarisse. She laughed at the girls embarrassed reaction before leaving.

“Silena?” You asked while tapping your index on the table an old nervous habit.

“No no it’s me” clarisse spoke up, she was flustered in the fact that silena had dipped on you two. You smiled once you realized who it was. “It’s my favorite daughter of ares huh”

“Oh you have favorites now?”

“Yeah but make-sure not to tell anyone else” you chuckled with the other girl.

Clasisse noticed immediately, the way your shoulders hanged and the sense of insecurity in your voice. “You ok?” She asked leaning over on the table while gently touching your hand.

You dismissed her by nodding. “Yeah im Fine don’t worry about it”

the daughter of ares however didn’t buy it. “Liar”

“Narcissistic”

Your little back and forth game was one you both enjoyed.. you sighed and took off your glasses allowing clarisse to see your rare eyes, they shined like pearls in the sunlight. “Some girls I heard.. they were saying some uh fucked ip shit about me” You started while fiddling with your hands. “But uh they said that you only hangout with me out of pity..Is that true”

While you would of never knew you had made eyecontact with the woman infront of you. Clarisse grabbed your hands unexpectedly which made you jump slightly.

“Your a fucking dumbass if you think that’s true” she scoffed, Clarisse brought your hand to her lips before softly kissing your knuckles. “Everytime I talk to you it’s like Cupid is messing with me, you should of told me what those girls were saying and I would of defended you”

You had to take a minute before softly laughing with a flustered face. “Clarisse? Are you confessing to me right now”

Clarisse reached forward tucking a stray of your hair away “I guess I am” she mumbled.

“Guess I should to hm?”

You trailed your hands from the girls palms up her arms and to her shoulders, you placed your arms around her neck before leaning in to kiss her.

Clarisse while shocked kissed back, she was embarrassed as being new to the whole love thing — her kissing skills being evident of that.

Once you two had eventually pulled away but kept your faces close you were able to finally hear silena who was now cheering in the background.. and was that Charlie.

“OH my gods silena!” Clarisse yelled.

“Really?” You questioned sarcastically. Your sister from what you could tell just continued to laugh.

You faced back to clarisse and shook your head. “Just ignore her” You softly spoke before kissing her again

Feminism‼️‼️

[exhaslo]

Puzzle Pieces Ch17 (End)

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14, Ch15, Ch16

Warning: Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was another beautiful day in the city of Nueva York. The snow was sticking to the ground and the Christmas spirit was in the air. Everyone in the city was doing their last minute Christmas shopping while making sure they had their ingredients for dinner.

You were not shy to being one of those last minute shoppers. It was the day before Christmas and you were panicking about making sure you had everything to make for dinner. You wanted to treat Miguel well since this was going to be your first Christmas together.

It had been two weeks since the incident with Eddie. Miguel had reassured you of his death and even mentioned something about your parents calling off the engagement. As much as you wanted to ask how, you knew that Miguel was always going to take care of you. It was so reassuring to have him by your side.

Humming quietly to yourself as you walked down the aisle of your old job, you smiled spotting the deli. Your former supervisor gave you a wave and motioned you over. As you drew closer, one of the workers placed a ham inside your cart.

"On the house," Your supervisor said. You just smiled,

"T-Thank you!"

Returning to your shopping, you couldn't stop smiling since this was the first time you were enjoying yourself. It did feel slightly weird since you did have a bodyguard. Miguel wanted to make sure that you were always with someone and safe.

Miguel was sure to make you as comfortable as possible. You were the girlfriend to the leader of the strongest mafia in the city. It was a scary thought.

"Do you have a dress for tomorrow night?" Peter asked, wanting to make small talk since you were getting overwhelmed with the amount of people in the store.

"O-Oh, y-yes...L-Lyla and I...went s-shopping for one...Um...D-Do I need t-to bring...anything?" You asked, getting in line. Peter glanced around,

"Just a smile on Miguel's face. I think that will cheer everyone up," Peter said with a chuckle.

You couldn't help but smile as well. You've gotten to know some of Miguel's men and women. They were all really nice people. Nothing from what the movies portrayed. One might think you were insane for getting comfortable with the mafia.

"O-Oh, P-Peter...could we stop by....one more place....please?" You asked. Peter glanced down at you,

"Of course!"

---------

It was an unusual sight. You were standing in front of a mirror wearing a gorgeous dress. The only issue you were having were your scars. As beautiful as dress was, your scars showed your ugly side. Not even makeup could cover them.

Tears started to well up as you went to grab your sweater. How could you present yourself as Miguel's girlfriend if you looked like this? What were people going to think?

"¿Conejita? (Bunny?), what's wrong?" Miguel asked as he entered the room and saw you crying, "Don't cry, look how beautiful you are!"

"B-But...m-my scars, Miggy," You whimpered. Miguel fixed your hair and pecked your lips,

"Are nothing to be ashamed of, but if you wish to cover them, then I understand." He said and fixed your sweater, "I still love you all the same."

"I...love you too," You sniffed, wiping your tears away, "I...I just don't...want your people...to think...y-you k-know..."

"Whatever they think, they keep to themselves. My people know better than to insult me or you," Miguel whispered, resisting the urge to call you anything but his wife.

"Miggy~" You cooed happily, enjoying these moments.

You glanced at Miguel and squeaked, seeing the lust in his eyes. Before you could protest, Miguel picked you up and placed you on the bed, wanting to hog your beauty all to himself. You whined, afraid of ruining your dress, but Miguel made sure to be careful.

"M-Miguel~ N-No...m-more~ ah~ I-I gotta...s-stand mhm~ f-for the p-party!" You cried out as he bullied his cock into you.

"Just once more, baby. I want everyone to know that you're mine." Miguel hissed as he sucked on your neck.

You arched your back, moaning loudly as Miguel grew rougher with his thrusts. His grip was tight against your hips as his dick rubbed against your sweet spot, causing you to cum. Shaking in pleasure, you whimpered as Miguel kept his pace, painting your insides white.

"M-Miggy," You panted softly. Miguel licked his lips, glancing down at you,

"Just one more, please?"

-------------

Your face was flustered as you held onto Miguel. Your legs were shaky and quite numb, so Miguel had to carry you into the party. It was none the less embarrassing. Plus, your neck was covering with Miguel's love bites.

"T-This is embarrassing," You whispered. Miguel chuckled softly as he entered the Alchemax building,

"It's only for a short while. I usually stay at this party for an hour, the other two hours." He explained and placed you on your feet, "But, if you want to leave early to continue celebrating Christmas-"

"Mhpm!" You huffed your cheeks out, giving a slight glare towards your sex driven boyfriend, "W-We're b-binge watching m-movies remember?" You whined. Miguel couldn't hold back his laugh,

"I know, baby. I can't help but tease." You felt captivated by his smile, "Just stay by my side, okay?"

"O-Okay,"

Everything felt like it was moving so fast. You refused to let go of Miguel, not used to the fancy party life. Alchemax was different and you weren't sure if you liked it yet. The food was fancy and the people seemed snobby. It was no wonder why Miguel wasn't too fond of this job.

The only good thing about this party was that people only paid half a mind to you. Everyone tried to avoid Miguel unless it was a simple introduction. Miguel was the CEO, he had to make his rounds and a small speech.

Sitting a small private table, you smiled as Miguel handed you a small plate of food. He kissed your head and went up to the stage to make his yearly speech. After he was done, the two of you were going to go to his more 'lively' party as Miguel called it.

"Is she dating the boss?"

"Can't be, look at her."

"But those marks-"

"Just a fling. We have a better chance."

Ah, there is was. You hadn't left Miguel's side until now, so you had avoided hearing the whispers about you. Of course, everyone was curious about you. The CEO of their company had brought a girl they had never seen before.

You wanted to tell them that you were Miguel's girlfriend. You wanted to tell them that they were wrong. That they would never stand a chance with Miguel, but you were still afraid. Just because you had gotten comfortable with Miguel, didn't mean that you were ready to confront others yet.

"Please, do enjoy the rest of the night. My wife and I have other matters to attend. I shall see you all in the New Year," Miguel spoke before leaving the stage.

You hadn't even heard his last part, still playing with your sweater sleeves about what those girls said. You didn't even notice Miguel approach you from behind, his arms wrapping around yours.

"You didn't eat. Was the food not to your liking?" He asked. You flinched and shook your head,

"S-Sorry...I um...spaced out." You whispered and scooted closer to him, "A-Are we leaving...?"

"Yes, perhaps you'll like the food there better."

Miguel lifted you up, ignoring your small protests and his staring underlings. He held you close until the two of you arrived at his other party. It was already lively since some of the Peters had gotten a little drunk.

"C-Can I ask-" You giggled lowly, seeing Miguel's slightly annoyed expression, "H-How did you come to hire so many p-people with the s-same name?"

"I don't know. I really don't know," Miguel huffed and watched as his mafia went wild, "Let me get you a pla-"

"THE BOSS'S WIFE WANTS FOOD!" One of the Peter's yelled. You were too focused on Miguel leading to a table to hear the yelling,

"BRING THE QUEEN HER FOOD!"

"FOOD! FOOD! FOOD!"

"What the hell are they going on about now?!" Miguel barked. Lyla came over with Jessica and a few other girls,

"Everyone's excited to finally meet (Y/N). They're bringing her a plate of food now," She said with a grin.

"E-Excited to s-see...me?" You questioned in shock.

"Yea, you're the one who thawed this grumps heart." Jessica hummed while Gwen and Margo snickered to themselves.

Miguel kept his quiet glare since you were enjoying their company. He turned his attention to his drunk underlings who brought you a large enough plate to even feed Miguel. Wondering if he should make his speech now, Miguel waited on you.

He enjoyed the smile on had on your face as you talked to the girls. Your eyes sparkling ever so slightly at the mountain of food. You seemed to be happy here, that's what mattered.

"I'll be right back," Miguel whispered in your ear.

You shivered in delight and pecked his lips, wishing him luck. Miguel groaned lowly, hurrying to the main stage to calm his eager crowd. Oh, how tempting you were still. Miguel was going to make sure to keep on giving all night long.

"Excited to give Miguel your gift tomorrow?" Lyla asked, ignoring Miguel's speech. You felt your cheeks warm up,

"I-I really...r-really hope he likes it."

"He will. Miguel will cherish anything you give him."

"I trust you all to keep this city safe again this year. My wife and I shall lead this family to success-"

"I-I'm just worried...t-that he'll think it's...cheap..."

"Miguel doesn't care about that. Listen to this, his brother gave him a baseball from one of his games and Miguel still has it in a glass case!" Lyla grinned.

"As you've all seen, my wife is quite shy and nervous when it comes to new people, so I expect you all to behave and-"

"O-Oh, yes! M-Miguel told me that story. It's s-super sweet," You cooed, hiding your smile, "S-So...he will like my g-gift~"

"HEIR! HEIR! HEIR!"

"The hell are they yelling now?" Jessica huffed, crossing her arms towards the crowd. You titled your head, drinking some wine,

"Hair?"

"Ignore them," Lyla snickered.

You were still confused, but kept enjoying your meal and drink. Eventually Miguel returned and cozied up to you, claiming that he needs a break already. You laughed at his childishly behavior, but indulged anyway.

After a while, you were tipsy and ready to go home. As ready as you were to sleep, Miguel made sure to keep you up for a few more hours.

Tis was the season of giving after all.

---------

You let out a soft whine as Miguel scooped you up from the bed. He had you wrapped in the blanket, carrying you over to his large living room. You rubbed your eyes, glancing at his beautiful Christmas tree and tons of gifts placed below it.

You gasped at the sight, shocked to see so many presents. Miguel chuckled towards your reaction and placed you down on the couch. He pecked you lips and went to bring some eggnog. You were still in shock, wondering if your gift was going to be good enough again.

"Where would you like to start, Mi pequeño conejita (my little bunny)?" Miguel asked, handing you a mug. You glanced towards him, placing the cup against your lips,

"C-Can I...give y-you your gift...first?" You asked.

Miguel happily agreed if that was your wish. Miguel watched you struggle to grab his present from a hidden spot. You were cute as you struggled to walk. Returning to the couch, you let out an 'oomph' as you fell on Miguel, handing him his present.

"M-Merry Christmas!" You chirped.

Miguel brought you into his embrace, opening the gift with ease. His eyes widen, seeing that you got him a glass Spider figure. Miguel glanced towards you, watching as you touched the spider, opening a small compartment.

"Tadaaa," You chirped. Miguel glanced inside the compartment and chuckled,

"Chocolate hearts? How cute, you can't even tell they were in there."

"I-I've noticed that y-you liked Spiders....y-you know, before I-I knew you were part of the S-Spider mafia. T-The hearts...I um...I wanted to um....r-represent...m-my love...for you." You stuttered, feeling slightly embarrassed now.

"I love it, mi amor (my love)" Miguel brought you in for a deep kiss, "Allow me to give you one special gift first."

You could feel small hearts floating above your head as Miguel kept giving you kisses here and there. He went behind the tree and brought you a medium size gift. Curious, you opened it and saw that Miguel got you a custom made puzzle.

"Let's build it together," He whispered in your ear.

You muffled a whimper as Miguel sat you between his legs. You could feel your heart race as his hands engulfed yours. The two of you were working on a special puzzle together. You were both nervous and excited to see what it will form into.

"Will?" You questioned.

"Keep going,"

A shiver ran down your spine as Miguel kept whispering and kissing your ear. He grabbed your hands, working on the other side of the puzzle now.

"Me?"

"Ten piedad, te voy a devorar si sigues siendo tan linda. (Have mercy, I'm going to devour you if you keep being this cute.)" Miguel groaned.

You bit your lower lip as you kept working on the puzzle. You could feel Miguel's erection already, making you really wonder what the puzzle was. Your eyes started to widen as you saw another word being formed. Miguel then covered your eyes as his hands motioned yours to finish the puzzle.

"Ready?" Miguel moved his hands away from yours eyes.

"Will you m-marry me?" You gasped in awe, then turned to face Miguel, "Y-Yes! Yes!" You cried, tackling him in a hug. Miguel wrapped his arms around you waist, laying against the floor,

"(Y/N), I love you so, so much. I promise to take care of you now and forever," Miguel said with a low hum. This time, you were the one to cover him in kisses,

"M-Miguel, t-thank you so much f-for treating me well. I-I love you so much it hurts! I-I can't wait to be called your wife!"

"Oh? I've been calling you that all night." Miguel chuckled lowly, sliding your panties down, "I thought it was so cute how you didn't hear a single one."

"Y-You were?!"

"Everyone knows that you're my wife," Miguel laughed, sitting back up and kissing you deeply, "And now, you will be."

"Thank you, M-Miguel," You pecked his lips happily. Miguel picked you up, hovering over you on the couch,

"No, thank you, (Y/N)."

Every one is a puzzle just waiting to find their missing pieces. It may take some time and there maybe moments where you think you found the right piece, but patience will reward you in the end. For you will finally find all of your puzzle pieces eventually.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

THANK YOU ALL FOR READING AND SUPPORTING THIS STORY!!! I couldn't have done it without all of your love and support! As sad as I am to see this story end, what ends with one, gives life to another!

I have already started on my next story. I present:

Corruption (Villain!Miguel x Hero!Reader)

Thank you all again for reading and enjoying my story! I hope to see you all again in my future projects~

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things @daisy-artfield @mcmiracles @alexa4040 @llama--drama @kpopscoups17130000 @havkjhdecs @ruexvn @tojishugetiddi @openup-yourmind @black-swan-blog27 @xstarsdiary @kiddisquacking @gachagator @yujyujj @emmyrxx @blackteamint @sockears @black-swan-blog27 @soraya-daydreams @byjessicalotufo @nanoinn @bunnibitez @aockskcw @l3laze @dimitri-needs-therapy

[andersonfilms]

#BRAINROT! — abby anderson x reader

abby never thought she would be so lucky to have an opportunity like this. the two of you were roommates, two peas in a pod unable to be separated until ellie had won your heart. filled with anguish, abby had tolerated your relationship for the past two years. putting on the bravest face, being supportive, letting you lean on her through the lows of ellie.

ellie wouldn’t see it this way.

your girlfriend, seemed to grow an ugly green head at the burly blonde’s wondering eyes. ellie had made her case many times, trying to convince you abby wanted more than to be your best friend during your relationship. she wants you. stupid, rage fueled arguments started by her always ended up with a curse of roommate’s name. all roads lead to abby, especially your big blow up fight a few nights ago.

ellie gave you an ultimatum, her or abby.

both of them were here at the new year’s eve party with jesse as rhetorical hosts and you decided to stew. angrily, bitterly stewing. ellie didn't have the right to push someone out of your life just because she felt jealous. someone you care about, one of the few people who fully understands, helped you through your lowest moments and ellie expected you to just cut ties, as if it’s easy. as if you want to.

ellie is sitting next to dina on the couch and abby just made her way outside on the patio to watch the fireworks. the god awful turning feeling growing in the bottom of your stomach, nerves boiling over as rhea adrenaline pumped through your veins because you knew.

you knew, you knew, you knew.

the person you couldn’t leave without, the answer became clear when forced upon you.

you watch the clock as it winds down.

11:57

she didn’t speak a single word all night. all you were welcomed with were puppy eyes and a bleeding heart each second you refused to talk with her. ellie’s green orbs caught wind of your own, looking at her. you know she loves you, even when she can’t help it when she becomes crazy jealous, only spurring out insane nonsense. in her own way, she does but the anger her father left is drowning you, making it inescapable. she wants you to come to her, you know she does. even if ellie is mean when she’s afraid, she irrevocably in love with you.

but you can’t. because ellie knew you better than you knew yourself. you knew she didn’t want to be, but her eyes filled with regret as yours resembled pity. it beamed as brightly as a full moon on a starless evening, tears in her eyes as you made yourself across the living room to the back door.

11:58

your senses are met with the smell of cigarettes and cheap tequila, but you see her sitting beside herself away from her friends. she’s on a bench swing, rocking her body weight back and forth. she looks perfect with a beanie as her locks lightly framed her chin.

she’s anxious, forefinger picking at the label in beer, condensation making it easy for it fall away. abby wonders if everything will leave just as easily, you mainly. tonight at least she does, you hadn’t spoken a word to anyone really. she wonders if she did something wrong, if she’s hurt you in any type of way. abby hopes she’s just in her head too much because she can’t stand the thought of you hurt at all, but especially by her hands.

abby is pouting so badly, she misses you going up to her. until your weight sends the swing moving slightly, before she digs her feet into the wooden planks. you grab a swing of her beer, a drink you ate but you’ll need all help you can get if you still want to follow through with this.

it isn’t because this is difficult, it’s the easiest thing you’ve done all year. it terrifies how quickly you made the decision once you picture a life without her. you can’t see one, it’s not a possibility at all.

11:59

“c’mon, what you are you doing out here? it’s almost midnight. go find ellie, bub. is everything good?” abby says, but you almost don’t catch a thing she’s saying. you’re looking at her lips, licking your own in anticipation.

“it’s cold, too. where’s you jacket?” abby doesn’t wait for you to respond. she peels of your bomber, wrapping it warmly over your shoulders.

“i guess, i don’t know, i got distracted. i’m perfectly fine, abby.” you say, getting lost in beautiful blues. never really appreciating them like you should. if she let you, from this moment on, you’d never stop.

you’re leaning in closer to her, right hand resting on her thigh, and abby’s more confused than ever.

“are you sure everything is alright? why aren’t you trying to find ellie?” abby furrowed her eyebrows, trying to put the pieces together but nothing was fitting.

“i know exactly where ellie is.”

“okay….” abby looked at you skepticism glazed over her face.

the people you love, friends and family, they start count down from sixty.

“can you tell me what’s going on?”

“ellie wants me to make a choice and i’m making it. so just, sit there, ring the new year by my side and let me, please?” you begged.

“she really said it’s me or her?” abby whispered out, trying to hide the small grin trying to break out. all you did was give a nod.

the counts come down to twenty when abby asks another a question. “your girlfriend of two years gives you an ultimatum, and you’re deciding to sit with me.” the blonde is having a hard time believing you, slowly putting the pieces together one by one.

“yeah, there’s isn’t anyone i’d rather be. it’s you abby, i-it always has been.” you move your head so you can look at her, the two of you are leaning in closer, it’s when you notice the love in her eyes. how deeply it flows and god you hope it flows all over you. maybe it’s been there all along, just waiting for you to be there, waiting for you to feel the first drop.

12:00

everyone’s cheering as abby’s lips meet yours and dear god are they perfect. luscious, bottom lip separates your own as her calloused hands cradle your face as she angles the kiss deeper. abby pulls you closer as she handles you with all love in the world. you forget where you are and you’re moaning into the kiss, allowing abby to slide her velvet tongue in your mouth, claiming you for the first time.

the moment she’s imagined is more perfect than she deserves but she takes it anyways. abby can’t believe it as she pulls away, forehead resting against her, looking at you like you just the placed the world in her hands. and in a way, you kind of did.

“if there was ever any doubt, it’s always been you, too. but, i’m pretty sure you already knew it. i’m not one for subtly.” abby kisses you once more, and now you know this is how it was always meant to feel.

[emstarkey]

𝗟𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗜𝗘’𝗦 𝗗𝗔𝗗 ⋆｡‧˚ʚ𝘉𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘥!𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳ɞ˚‧｡⋆

౨ৎ rafe is your best friend's dad, you'd always been attracted to him even if his wife was clung to his side, or that you and his daughter were the same age. That wasn't going to stop you, though. ౨ৎ

ೃ𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚࿐ 

18+𝘮𝘥𝘯𝘪ꜜ

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“Hi, Mrs Cameron” you greeted his wife with a forced smile, your tone so sickenly sweet you wanted to gag. Making your way over to Lottie, not caring what Rafe's wife had to say. You plant yourself in the sunlounger next to Lottie, she sipped on her cocktail as her eyes, that she must've got from rafe. Followed around her little boy toy Conrad.

“Conrads here” you point out, Lottie hadn't mentioned it knowing how you didn't like her boyfriend, but to make matters worse he had bought a friend along with him. “Okay, yeah. But you can finally try talking to Steven” she teases, pushing your shoulder lightly. You screwed your face up. He wasn't ugly, it was just every 20 year old boy repulsed you, they just never had much to offer. “No thanks, id rather stay single” you retort, taking off your oversized top to relax in the matching slutty pink bikinis you and Lottie had both previously bought.

Rafe Cameron, the man he was. How could someone look so sexy whilst slaving over a barbecue? It was insane. Just the way he was so focused on cooking it all perfect was just so, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵. In the midst of your admiring your best friend's father, you felt your whole body sprayed with water. Jaw-dropping as you turn to face the culprits. Obviously, it was the two frat boys, laughing away as you stormed off. Barging through the Camerons patio door.

Now you were drenched, okay maybe it was just a bit of water but now your hair was all soaked and it just wasn't a good look, you tried so hard to look good today. Wanting to impress Rafe but now the idiots ruined it all. You made your way up the stairs to Lottie's room, luckily you could fix yourself up in here. As you sat at her dresser, using her hairbrush you heard the back door open, assuming it was just Lottie you went back to what you were doing.

Finally, you looked presentable again. You had overreacted but oh well, your hair was still wet but you had fixed your lash extensions and everything else you spent money on every month to feel more confident. You needed a towel, it was obvious by the wet prints you'd left all around Lottie's room. As your feet walked on the hardwood floor towards the bathroom you start hearing noises, like a grunting sound.

You tiptoe closer not wanting to alarm whoever was in there, as you continue to listen you couldn't only assume what they were doing to make them make noises like that, a pool of wetness filling your bikini bottoms, that's when you peer out the hallway window seeing everyone was in the yard apart from, rafe.

“Y/N, fuck” he moans out as Rafe's ring-clad hand fisted his thick dick, moving up and down as he kept his eyes closed just imagining his daughter's best friend on her knees in front of him, he knew it was wrong but he just couldn't stop. When he finishes he shoves himself back into his khaki shorts, his same hand he'd just been using on himself opening the door to find you stood there biting down on your plump lip.

𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠.

[demonpiratehuntress]

dreams

OPLA!Zoro x F!Reader

summary - majority of your dreams seem to manifest in the real world somehow, so when you have one about your crush and your best friend...things get a little out of control.

warnings - heavy angst (im sorry), hurt to comfort

a/n: when i started writing for this fandom i PROMISED myself i would not make it all angst and no fun, but oh well :))))) idek where this idea came from, i need help

You woke up from a nap with the sickening urge to empty your stomach overboard. Nausea reared its ugly head, and before you could even try to tame the feeling, you were sprinting to the side of the ship to empty your stomach.

What exactly was the cause?

This would sound insanely ridiculous, and to you it really was, but you had a weird dream. And it didn't sit well with you. Most of the dreams you had often became a reality, albeit with slight changes. There were some that didn't, but almost all of them came true eventually or manifested in a similar way at some point.

And that's probably the reason you couldn't stop yourself from vomiting obscenely before your stunned - and confused - crew.

"(Name), are you okay?" Nami asked worriedly, coming over to you.

You flinched away from her, increasing her confusion, before turning and running off to the bathroom. She exchanged looks with the others who were out on deck - Usopp and Luffy - before shrugging it off and going back to mapping the ship's course.

The truth was, you had a completely unexpected yet maddening dream while napping, one that you prayed to any god who would listen would not come true. You had dreamed of Zoro - the man you had the biggest crush on - and Nami, which may seem an odd coupling and probably was but you couldn't control your dreams. Much like how you couldn't control how you felt about it, despite it only being a fictional idea your mind concocted.

You went straight to yours and Nami's room after cleaning yourself up, setting up the divider that separated your section from hers so you wouldn't have to deal with seeing her if she came in. Your behaviour was unfair to her, since you knew she would never do anything like that, nor did she have any romantic interest in Zoro. In fact, she barely had any interest in the swordsman at all. But according to your dream, that might change.

You curled up on your bed, pulling the blanket right up over your head to shield yourself from the real world. The familiar feeling of something wet running down your cheek informed you that you had started crying, but you couldn't care less. You couldn't move. You didn't have the energy to move, much less bring your hand up to wipe your tears away. So you just lay there, curled up in a foetal position, trying - and miserably failing - to get your mind off it.

A while later, a knock at your door caused you to jerk up in your bed, before you groaned and flopped back down.

"Go away!"

"Nami said you're sick," came Sanji's voice, "So I made you some soup. Please open the door."

You breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't either of the two people you were currently trying to avoid. Slowly dragging yourself out of bed, you had to make even more effort to get yourself to the door. Forgetting that you had just been crying, you opened it and let the cook in, confused when his expression immediately grew alarmed.

"(Name), why are you crying??" He immediately set the soup down and pulled you into a comforting hug - one that seemed to be much warmer than usual right now.

"I-I'm fine," you mumbled into his shoulder, "Just not well."

He nodded, falling for your excuse, before pulling away to hand you the soup, "Here, this should help. If you need more, or if you need anything else, just let me know." He smiled at you, before leaving you alone once again.

You sat back down on your bed and ate the soup - because who can say no to Sanji's cooking, even if you're not really in the mood to eat? And it did help, the warmth helping to settle your queasy stomach and alleviate the nausea if only a little bit. Minutes after you finished it, there was another knock and you frowned, wondering who it was now.

You didn't answer, in fear of it being Zoro.

Just the thought of Zoro had you replaying that dream all over again, and before you could stop yourself or at least soften the sound, sobs were wracking your body and you were burying your face in your hands, crying into their warmth.

The door opened and a familiar set of heavy footsteps reached your ears before the bed dipped beside you. Your entire body froze up, tensing at the arrival of the green-haired swordsman. Your sobs fell silent, hiccups replacing them as you stilled and tried your best to quell your sadness - still keeping your face hidden.

"What happened?" Came that usually-comforting deep voice you loved so much, but that now caused your nausea to return. "What's wrong, (Name)?"

"Please go away," you found yourself speaking, not wanting to push him away but knowing you'd feel even more ridiculous if he found out how you felt about him while you were recounting a silly dream.

"No."

Usually the swordsman would leave without a word if you asked for space, or if you told him to go away, but this time he could see you were absolutely not okay and you needed someone. Luffy wouldn't be a good idea, Usopp wouldn't know what to do, and you seemed to be avoiding Nami. And he sure as hell did not want that stupid cook anywhere near you right now, in fear of him comforting you so well that the swordsman would lose you to him entirely.

You didn't respond to that, so Zoro brought his hands up to slowly and gently peel yours away from your face. You let him, shocking yourself, and the sight of your bloodshot eyes and tear-stained face caused his heart to constrict painfully.

"Tell me what's wrong."

He held your hands in his own, not wanting to let go. He had waited so long to be able to hold them, and he was glad for this excuse to. But he was heartbroken seeing you so upset and apparently sick over something he didn't know about yet. He gently squeezed your hands, silently encouraging you to speak. He wasn't good with words, but if comfort was what you needed he would do and say whatever he could to make your pain go away.

"It's you and Nami."

He stiffened. He didn't know what that meant, but just hearing he was part of the reason you were so upset made his heart sink.

"What did we do?"

"It's...um...it's silly," you replied quietly, voice low but pain still evident. "It doesn't matter." You tried pulling your hands away, but Zoro only gripped them tighter.

"It does, if it's making you this upset."

Reluctantly, you relayed to him what you had dreamed about, voice cracking halfway through as more tears fell. You felt even sillier saying it to someone else, especially him, and avoided making eye-contact throughout the entire explanation. When you finished, you shot him a small, brief glance - only to do a double take when you saw the absolutely horrified and disgusted look on his face.

"Me and the thief?" He questioned, distaste clear in his tone. "You've got to be kidding me." He sighed, sneakily shifting closer to you on the bed. "That can't be possible."

"But-"

"Some of your dreams don't come true," he reminded you, "This is definitely one of those. You want to know how I know?"

You nodded slowly, biting your lip.

You did not expect his next words.

"Because I already dream about doing that with you."

Your jaw dropped. If you were like Luffy, it would have probably dropped all the way to the floor, you were so stunned by his confession. Your formerly slowed heartbeat picked up speed again, heat filling your cheeks as you processed his words.

"Me?"

"Mhm. Only you. Been a recurring dream, actually."

As you stuttered out an incomplete sentence and then stammered through some nonsense, Zoro leaned in slowly and pressed his lips against yours, locking you in a slow but sweet kiss. His lips were warm and soft, inviting you to lean into him and return the kiss. The affectionate gesture had butterflies blooming in your stomach.

"I'm sorry," you whispered once you remembered how to speak.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling you into a warm, comforting and secure embrace.

You sat like that quietly for a while, Zoro rubbing soothing circles onto your back while you clung to him, face buried in his neck. He kissed the top of your head every few minutes, in between mumbling sweet words of comfort into your ear - mainly "you're beautiful" and "i'm yours" because he didn't know what else to say. But it was enough for you.

Eventually, he spoke up.

"You should clear things up with Nami. She's upset because you're not talking to her."

"I know...later."

He chuckled and tightened his grip on you, keeping you warm and increasingly happy in his strong arms. He didn't intend on letting go, but that was good because you didn't want him to.

BONUS:

"STUPID MOSSHEAD!"

Loud banging and clanging jerked you awake the morning after your confessions, the sound of Sanji's loud exclamation having woken you - but not Zoro - up. He probably had woken up the others as well.

You tried to get up to see what was wrong, but Zoro refused to let go. He was still sleeping, but his arms wound around you even tighter, pulling you back against him. You sighed, knowing you could ask someone else later anyway.

Nami poked her head around the divider and smirked, "He's upset that Zoro finally confessed and ruined his chance to woo you."

You laughed at that, "Give him an hour, max. Then he'll try to woo you."

She groaned, "I'm already dreading it."

The two of you laughed, and it felt good to be back on speaking terms with her. Even though, strictly speaking, you hadn't had a reason not to be in the first place. But oh well.

The power of dreams...

[nats-revival]

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚 | 𝙚. 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙢𝙨

pairing: nepo baby!business owner!ellie williams x afab!business owner!reader

tags: smut, fingering (r receiving), pet names/name calling?? (dirty girl, pretty, good girl, baby), slight praise??, god why is tagging so hard, mild language, unethical business practices??, thoughts are green, ellie lowk an asshole, but both reader and ellie are pretty harsh to eachother, maybe that’s it, bare with me if i forget something pls. 😭🙏

a/n: i wrote this directly on tumblr bc i did NAWT feel like pulling up google docs today saur the format might be a lil off. i was watching this show on netflix called ‘locked up’, and like an episode from season two is what inspired this!!! 😜 the show is good honestly it just drags on sometimes!!! ive actually never actually written smut any times before this (believe it or not hehe) anyways, let’s get into it!!!

P.S - DEDICATED TO @sweetysaccharine YAWP YAWP!!!! <333 HOPE U ENJOY POOKIEEEE

P.P.S - don’t look at the typos or i will find you (IM JOKING)

rumors traveled fast, and sometimes it wasn’t always good. for one, they could be infuriating. a company you’d been toe to toe with for.. quite some time had gotten a new ceo. some young girl. articles appeared online about some kinda nepotism scandal. the photo on the top of the article displayed a photo of the previous ceo — joel miller, and the new owner, ellie. they looked happy. but why were they accused of something as harmful as nepotism? long story short, joel turned his brother down for the position (even though he was the better option) so ellie could have it. favoritism of sorts. but god was she infuriating! her stupid, flashy displays of wealth (that probably didn’t even belong to her) made you so mad! and also, her arrogance and her constant need to compete with you was very infuriating aswell. you had influence, she had money. wouldn’t these things be considered as a double kill in some perfect world? yes. would you ever even consider working with someone like her? absolutely not. you couldn’t even stand being in the same vicinity as her whenever you two ended up at the same social events.

imagine that terrible, ugly feeling of anger that coursed hot through your veins once finding out she’d brought possibly one of the biggest clients you could’ve ever had. it was one thing for her to shove it in your face that she was wealthy but this? she’d completely overstepped. storming your way through the companies large building, you find yourself at her offices door knocking like a madwoman. “open the goddamn door, williams!” you yell as you attempt to open the door on your own. she doesn’t say anything, but you’re just almost certain she’s smirking or something. she opens the door with this.. look. it was weird. a perfect mixture of condescending, arrogance, and ‘i know what i did and i don’t regret it’. “are you insane?” “mm.. yeah. i guess so.” you laugh, dumbfounded by her. “how bout you come into my office for a seat and a drink?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “let’s handle this civilly, shall we? knowing you, i have the feeling that this could get real ugly.” she pushed open the door with that same condescending/arrogant smile. of course, reluctantly, you walk inside. maybe this could be resolved civilly.

the sound of some smooth music played. it sounded like micheal buble or something. she walks around her desk to pour you a glass of bourbon. she hands it to and you just hold it. “it’s not poisoned, see?” she says before taking a sip. you take a sip and of it before putting the glass on her desk. “so, i realized that.. i have something you want.” the something being that client. “why else would i be here? that was a really petty move and you know that.” she chuckled. “yknow, i could just.. refer them back to you.” initially, you’re in disbelief. ellie? being generous? no way. she must’ve completely lost it. “but! it comes with a price.” of course it does. nothing was free, not in this economy. you kept your expectations low for this very reason. you raise an eyebrow at her. “we could work together. become business partners.”

she turns her music up a little. she dances her way over to you, circling you a bit. “no chance, ellie. how could i ever work with someone like you?” she chuckled again. “why wouldn’t you work with ‘someone like me’? you have something that i want aswell.” “what?” “power. influence. however you may wanna word it. i admire that.” it had to be some sick joke. why would she wanna work with you? “shouldn’t all your daddys money be more than enough to keep you in a position of power?” you quarry, then crossing your arms. a part of you didn’t believe that she’d been the one asking you for help.

“just think about it. me, giving you money. you, drawing power hungry clients in with that pretty face of yours. we’d work together like yin and yang.” she proposed before taking another sip of the drink in her glass. that was her giving a go at an analogy. was it good? she didn’t know. did she care? not at all. “you bullshitting me, williams?” “not at all. all you gotta do.. is say ‘yes’. cmon.” she offers her hand, those pretty slender fingers and that tattoo that peeking from underneath that black button up shirt were just so.. enticing. you were in your head, just thinking. was this a good idea? could i trust her? she probably has bad intentions. but she was so tempting. this had to be one of the seven deadly sins or something.

she snaps infront of your face. “where’d you go?” she asks. “nowhere.” you respond quickly. “so, you taking the offer or not? or.. will i have to convince you?” she takes a step closer to you. temptation taints your brain.

you’re not in control of your thoughts anymore. ellie was.

her hand seeks solace on your waist. “shouldn’t finding business like this be considered illegal?” you whisper to her. “im not a law abiding woman. and quite frankly, i don’t give two shits.” maybe it wouldn’t be illegal if nobody knew. but all you thought about was her. how she smells. how she’s looking at you. how her hands feel on your body. you can’t stop yourself. your lips crash down onto hers. your fingers tangle in her auburn hair as the both of you kiss passionately. she brings you to her desk, knocking stuff over as she sat you on her desk.

glass shattered, pictures were knocked out of their frames, and her computer mouse was.. somewhere. your back arches into her touch as you let out a soft moan into her mouth. she takes the opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth. in the competition of dominance between your tongues, she reigns supreme. her hands slide up your body and end up on your oxford button up shirt. she doesn’t unbutton it, she rips that shit open. “i’ll get you a new one.” she mumbled as the buttons from the shirt scatter across the room.

“you’d better. or else id have to come back here and get it by force.” “oh please, you’ll be back here for more reasons than a goddamn shirt.” she said as she peppers kisses down to your jawline, then your neck. “don’t leave any marks.” “but why?” “oh, i dunno, cause i don’t want anyone asking me who i had sex with?” “who gives a shit? your workers get paid to look the other way, don’t they?”

well, she makes a good point. and you can’t argue with a point as valid as that. she sinks her teeth into a sweet spot of your neck, making you moan out as she runs her tongue along the new mark. she sticks her tongue out again to run it all the way down to one of your boobs. the sensation makes you shiver. “wore this pretty bra for me, didntcha? you were just expecting this. you must’ve wanted me to touch you like this, didn’t you? dirty girl. must’ve been waiting for me to bend you over this table.” she rambled all while stripping you of your bra, then leaving soft kisses and licks across the valley of your breasts.

she takes her time, making you wait for it. she knew what she was doing to you, and she was going to make you wait. “ellie, you’re going soo slow! you know what i want.” you whine as she leaves kisses and bites all over your exposed skin. “tell me what you want or you’ll get nothing. tell me where you want me.” she whispered. “i want your fingers.” “where?” “you know where.” “tell me or you get nothing.” you hesitate for a moment before saying feebly. “in.. in my pussy..” “that’s a good girl.”

she smiles as she pushes her hands into your slacks. she could feel your wetness. “i got you this worked up, huh? who knew little miss perfect could get this wet over me, a ‘nepo baby’?” she teased with a cocky smile. she slowly slides your slacks and underwear all the way down to your ankles before she applies a delicious amount of pressure to your clit. you gasp, your hand wrapping around her wrist. “oh, you like that do you, huh? you want more? fucking beg for it. cmon.” she applies more pressure to your clit, rubbing small and soft circles as her fingers ghost your sopping entrance. “oh— please ellie, i need more. give me more.” “gonna take more than that, baby.” you whine when she suddenly takes all that pressure away from you.

you let out another whine as you attempt to rut against her hand. her free hand slaps your thigh as she shakes her head in disapproval. “none of that. keep still. you get nothing until you beg like a good girl.” “please, please. ill do anything. just please touch me.” she chuckles at you. she found it cute how you were so desperate to chase that pleasure. “god, you’re so desperate. you need it so.. goddamn bad, don’t you?” she lets out a grunt in the middle of her sentence as she suddenly plunged into your pussy.

as she moves her fingers, she groans at how wet her you were. first she starts with middle finger, then adding her ring finger. her long fingers are hitting that sweet spot in you. she was making you see stars. “listen to yourself. look at ‘er, she’s crying for me.” she coos as she speeds her pace. you moan out. “watch me, baby.” you slowly look down at her fingers plunging in and out of you. sounds of wet squelching fill your ears. you bite your lip and you toss your head back as you let out a moan. you grind yourself down onto her fingers, chasing that wonderful and blissful orgasm.

you felt a pressure building up in your stomach. your eyes were fluttering open and shut. everytime you looked away, she stopped. you made sure to not look away. once that pressure in your stomach felt like it was gonna release, your moans became more broken. “ellie! ellie— oh fuck! ellie! im gonna cum! don’t stop, please don’t stop!” you say between moans as you bring your hand back down to hold her wrist in place.

“oh yeah? gonna cum? let go for me. make a mess on my fingers. cmon. i know you can do it.” she said as she kept her pace at that same one that was making you see stars. she’d been rambling something to you, talking you through it as she watched you cum all over her fingers. she helps you ride out your orgasm, a slight tremble in your legs becoming more apparent.

“what do we say?” “thank you.” she smiled as she pulled her fingers out. the sudden loss makes you whine. she sucks her fingers clean and you watch as her tongue runs across the length of her fingers. “still being a tease, williams?” you ask as you look at her while she does it. “mm.. well no, i dont think so. just savouring how good you taste.” when she was finally satisfied, she drops her hands. “so, you finally ready to stop being so stubborn and take the deal?” “not a chance if it means we get to have sex like this.” you respond with a chuckle. “maybe you need to be fucked again, hm?” she ask with a smile.

needless to say, you’d went another time, and on the third you fucked ellie. eventually you come to some sort of agreement after you’d been laid on her leather sofa, naked and feeling like you were floating. the only question you had now is what the hell had you gotten into. “will this turn into a scandal?” you ask. “.. probably not if we keep this under wraps.” she responds as she puts her head in the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses to it. “plus, yknow i can just pay the media off right? they won’t say anything. not a peep.” she reassured as she smiled softly.

[wakeup01]

You’ve been talking to this fit guy online for a few weeks now. Granted, he was a bit dim and getting him to talk about anything but himself was like trying to get Mona Lisa to smile.

Despite your lack of common interests - and polarizing positions on the evolutionary scale, he had his ‘qualities’. Namely, he was a showoff. And you would put up with any amount of inane nonsense about how his cock was a gift from god as long as he continued showing you pictures of his pecs.

When he posed the idea of swapping bodies with you, you could barely believe it. You were a unremarkable nerd, why would he ever agree to that? In the moment, logic and motivation seemed less important than the fantasy he had offered. You say yes embarrassingly quickly. Within a second you blink, feeling odd as the room around you now looked completely unfamiliar. He must have been a real idiot to willingly give his body to you. Well, he may have forgotten to mention that there could be certain…side effects. That much became clear when you saw your new self in the mirror and felt the alien compulsion to pose and take pictures. You move on autopilot, flexing and narrowing your eyes lustfully at your facade.

Wow, he—you looked phenomenal. You raise your arm above your head, getting insanely hard as you sniff at your new sweaty pits. The overpowering musk made you feel strong, manly. PERFECT. A monument of masculinity and dominance. The desire to stroke is too intense, your hand lowering to idly fondle your oversized junk. Huh, maybe it was a gift from god.

His lingering narcissism swelled and quickly took over every other priority until all that mattered was your own body. Your own alpha cockiness. Your dripping sex. YOU. You were all that mattered. Your mind was inflated by his all encompassing ego, to the brink of bursting as it pushes everything else out of your air filled brain.

Complex personality traits were for ugly people, you convince yourself. You didn’t need to worry about all that crap. Hot guys could be as shallow as a puddle with the intellect of a pebble. And that’s exactly what this body had made you. All looks, no substance. Just a pretty sight with nothing else of note. It was only natural for you to be dumb. Dumb. Stupid. Dimwitted. There was something validating about those words.

You smile at your self assured idiocy, indulging yourself as you take another picture to shamelessly share with your nerdy online friend. Unaware of how he was snickering in your old body, watching you get off on your own stench and happily surrendering to his corrupting confidence. You laugh dimly while you send him the revealing photos.

‘Huhuh. Fucking look at me. Fuck. Dude is gonna cream himself, fo’sure.’

[megamindsecretlair]

What You Deserve, Part 3

Pairing: Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Toxic filth. Infidelity. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (male receiving) , fingering (female receiving) teasing, cum play, dirty talk, praise kink, Daddy kink, dick worship, all consensual.

Summary: After finding some damning evidence against your husband, you can't help wallowing. You fall into a bit of a spiral, wondering what your next move should be. Sometimes, you just need a little Stunna to make things better.

Word Count: 4,649k

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: Listen, I know. Idk why this took so long to write. I think I'm still pleasantly traumatized from Watchmen. IYKYK. Please consider commenting and reblogging to save a writer's life. It's important for their enrichment.

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @melaninpov @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nworbaij @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @cardi-bre91 @jay-mach @sageispunk @ciaqui @yourofficialgal @harmshake @amethyst09 @satoruya @theunsweetenedtruth

By the time you were done tearing through your bedroom and home office, you started to feel like a lunatic somewhere between pulling out drawers and flipping over couch cushions. You weren’t sure why, but finding the phone unlocked some kind of jealousy streak in you. You were obsessed. 

You knew what the deal was, but your husband was logical. You honestly thought he’d be too boring to cheat. And cheat with who? He was always at work and he didn’t have any female secretaries. That was a condition of you agreeing to become a stay at home mom. You didn’t want him bringing home any cooties.

And yet he did anyway. You had no room to judge. You had let Stunna in twice now. You took that man home and let him do filthy things to you. The petty side of you, however, rationalized that your husband stepped out first. Even if he bought the second phone a day ago, a week ago, or a year ago, he made that decision first. He chose someone else while you were at home raising his kids. 

And that burned. It burned like acid, clawing its way up your chest and burrowing deep inside. Baby Hands had the nerve to cheat on you? With his disproportionate body, small hands, small teeth, and ugly ass personality? 

You rubbed your head and sat down on the lone couch cushion you hadn’t flipped over yet. Good thing the asshole was gone for two weeks and you had time to put things back to sorts. It was driving you insane looking for…what?

Proof? Wasn’t the second phone enough? 

No. Anyone could excuse a second phone for work. Especially with the way that he worked in finance. He was constantly on call, working on huge contracts that required his attention. You’d caught him a few times in the office, pouring over documents and speaking gibberish. He had those calls on speaker and you heard him talking to a man. 

Unless your husband was secretly gay, you didn’t know where he found the energy or time to cheat. And how dare he bring that shit home to you! He hadn’t touched you in going on a year now. 

That was no excuse to cheat yourself, but shit. You were still sexy. You were still worthy of desire. Stunna taught you that. 

After you found the phone three nights ago, you hadn’t had the time to text Stunna. He texted you, telling you that he missed you. He was even on his best behavior. Nothing freaky or nasty. Just…wanted to see how your day was going. It was cute and touching. But right now, you wanted hellfire and brimstone. 

You rubbed your head once more, trying to figure out places where you wouldn’t look. It had to be somewhere your husband frequented that you didn’t bother with. When he was home, he was either crashing into bed or firing away at his laptop. 

“Mommy?” Noah asked. 

You looked up at Noah standing in the doorway with his sister peeking out next to him. It will always melt your heart the way the twins held onto each other like best friends. You knew that when they got older and developed more individuality, these days would seem like the distant past. 

“Yes, baby?” You asked. Embarrassment flooded through you. They shouldn’t see you like this. Falling apart because of a damn phone. 

“Are you playing hide and seek by yourself?” Noah asked, a small toothless grin on his face.

You chuckled. “Now, why would I do that when I have two of the best players in the house?” You asked. 

The twins grinned. “It’s messy in here!” Naomi said.

“Yes, baby, it’s messy in here,” you said. You looked over the office. It looked like a tornado had thrown up here. 

“Daddy doesn’t like it when it’s messy,” Naomi chimed in. “He says everything important has a place.” Naomi puffed out her cheeks and deepened her voice. Which only made her voice a little less squeaky. 

You laughed and shook your head. Leave it to your kids to get your head out of your ass. “You’re absolutely right. It’s sunny outside, what are you doing inside the house?” You asked.

You stood up and corralled your kids to soak up the sun, telling them how beautiful their skin is. You told them that the sun loves them so much, it gave them beautiful, dark skin to protect themselves. But that did absolutely mean they should be outside.

They ran into the backyard giggling. You watched as they tossed a ball back and forth, making up some kind of game you never knew the rules to. As you watched, you thought over what Naomi said. 

Your husband did say that a lot. He was the type to have all his little ducks in a row. Including his cheating apparently. Had you not found his phone by accident, who knew how long he would have gone on with it. Months? Years? Would you have woken up some time, sixteen years later to find out that he had an entire other family? 

You shivered. You did not want to end up like one of those true crime shows. Where you found out he was cheating and he offed you to be with his other baby mama. It was sickening. The not knowing was eating you alive. 

While the kids’ laughter filled your ears, you went back into the office. You headed for the file cabinet and flipped through his receipts. He kept copies of everything for at least three years and then routinely shredded them when he was sure that they were no longer needed. 

He had folders for everything, neatly lined up. You took out a huge stack from a few months ago. Mortgage, bills, groceries, and the like were all neatly stacked away. Including…extra expenses. 

You took out that folder and flipped through it. There were receipts from lingerie places. Expensive lingerie. Bracelets, necklaces…your husband was a regular fucking Santa Claus. You read over some of the pieces, things he’d stopped buying you years ago. After the kids.

Tears blurred your vision as you saw just how busy your man had been. So much for that. No wonder he didn’t want to touch you anymore. He found some floosy to bend over backwards. Keeping himself in shape? All for her. And not for the woman he fucking married. 

You let the tears fall, mourning for the marriage and life you thought you were living. You became complacent, allowing yourself to routinely get played. For what? For what?

You felt like screaming. You felt like dropping your kids off at your parents’ and showing up in Miami ready to catch a case. The love died a long time ago. It was the audacity. Because you were still fine as hell. And he was a fuck nigga for trying to dim your shine. Whoever he was with paled in comparison to you. 

You took pictures of all of the receipts in case his ass wanted to come home lying. You were going to the bank in the morning to get more financial records to bury his ass. Dumb ass. For all his self-importance, he forgot who the fuck he married.

You looked around the office, thinking of the house in general. You were going to clean that man out of everything he fucking owned. 

Hurt, pissed off, confused, you stood up and left the room, closing the door to the nonsense. You had kids to look after and make sure they didn’t miss their father’s absence too much. 

You tried to resist, but really, was there any point anymore? While the kids were away the next day, you called Stunna. He was the remedy you needed. You didn’t know what divine intervention placed him in your path or made you take him home. But you thanked the universe and grabbed hold with both hands. 

Stunna arrived promptly at noon, showing up looking exquisite in dark gray sweats and a blood red orange T-shirt. It should have looked funny, but on him, he just looked fine as hell. He was rubbing his hands when you opened the door and his face split into an open grin showing off a row of grills that flashed. 

You had answered the door in your robe, the silky lavender one. You were surprised it still fit, but you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The material looked amazing against your skin and you felt sexy, wild, and free while you wore it. It could also be because you weren’t wearing anything underneath it. 

Stunna’s eyes immediately traced your body and you felt it like a physical caress. You pulled him inside, locking the door behind you. Stunna was right there, pushing you against the door. 

“Fuck I missed you,” he said, his deep groan sending all kinds of shivers throughout your body. 

“I missed you,” you said. You grinned, looking up at his tall frame. 

“Hmm, how much you miss me?” He asked. He brought up one of his fingers to your chin, lifting it, to stare deeper into his molten brown eyes. His other hand traveled south, trailing down between your breasts and further still. That hand lifted the hem of your short robe, fingers rubbing against your exposed thighs.

Your legs tingled, feeling like he had more than two hands. You felt him everywhere, all at once. It was insane to want him as badly as you did. It had nothing to do with your husband. It had nothing to do with finding out that that bastard had been cheating for way longer than you thought.

You wanted to feel sexy again. Feel like you were capable of driving someone insane with lust. You hated to admit it but…fuck, your confidence was shot. You spent the whole night last night, crying into your glass of wine feeling rejected by your own damn husband. As much as you tried to talk a big game, you just felt ugly.

And the one person who didn’t make you feel ugly at the moment was the gorgeous man before you. 

He licked his lips slow, a tiny peek at his pink tongue swiping across his juicy lips. His eyes softened a fraction, while his hand slipped between your legs. Finding no barrier, he hummed low in his throat. His fingers eagerly searched through your folds, finding you wet and dripping already.

The anticipation while you got ready made you feel like a younger version of yourself. Back to your early days when you were invincible and no one could tell you a damn thing. 

“All wet and pretty for me, huh?” He asked. There was something so naughty about the way words dropped from his lips. He could say the most innocent sentence and make it sound salacious. 

You nodded, pouting, and turning doe eyes to him. He slipped one long, rough finger inside you and you hissed, arching your back against the door. Your hands came up to grip his shoulders for purchase. 

The finger he held under your chin dropped and he leaned on that arm against the door. His hand was massive next to your head. His breathing grew labored as if he were the one being driven to the height of pleasure.

You’d known him for such a short while and yet he knew you so well. Knew what you needed. Knew what you craved. He stared into your eyes, brows furrowed in concentration, while he continued to finger fuck you. He pushed his finger up to the knuckle and rubbed deep within you, making your knees buckle and your toes curl. 

“You ain’t been takin’ care of yourself,” he said. It wasn’t a question but you shook your head anyway. Between finding the phone and getting the kids together for their play and tearing through the house like a madwoman, you didn’t have time for anything. 

Stunna leaned down and pressed a hot, wet kiss to your lips. He lingered a little while he increased his pace.

“I won’t tease you too bad today, then,” he said. He flipped his wrist over and then made a “come hither” motion, rubbing right against your sweet spot. You began to whine and moan, shaking against the doorway. 

He didn’t let up and didn’t change his pace, stroking you without mercy until you were falling apart on his fingers. Soaking them. You dripped down your thigh and fell against him, your cheek resting against his broad chest.

He kissed your forehead and you sunk even further into him. You didn’t have to worry if he’d catch you or not. He was simply there. An immovable rock that you so desperately needed.

You were floating in an afterglow, but almost immediately, ugly thoughts reared in your head. Thoughts tumbled one right after the other about how your marriage was ruined. You were going to have to break up your family and figure out custody.

Your husband was going to be a dick about the whole thing. Especially when he’d been an absentee father even while in the house. To your kids, their dad was just some man who bought them things on birthdays and holidays. He was never there. And yet, it would crush them all the same not living in the same house with him. 

Tears gathered in your eyes. Fuck, this was a huge mistake. A glaring mistake that you should not have done. You should not have called Stunna. Least of all Stunna. So what…you could use him to make yourself feel pretty? 

God. You were embarrassing. You moved away from Stunna but he held on, trying to look you in the eye. You avoided looking at him, clinging to him since he wasn’t going to let you go.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

You shook your head. Your throat began to ache. Too clogged with racing thoughts and conflicting emotions. You were horny, confused, pissed off, elated. Fuck. You were a proper fucking mess and the least sexy thing in the room at the moment. 

“Um, maybe you should go,” you whispered. You didn’t want to ruin his shirt. You made to move again and Stunna leaned back, looking into your glistening eyes.

“Naw, tell me what’s wrong. Did I hurt you?” He asked.

“No!” You said. You shut that shit down. He’d been nothing but wonderful and awesome to you. Dropping everything just to come over and fuck you. You were the messed up one. And it wasn’t polite to talk to your sneaky link about your crumbling marriage. 

Stunna took your hand and led you to the couch. He sat down, spreading his long legs. He pulled you to sit on his lap, curling in close. You rested your head on his shoulder and he idly rubbed your back. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said.

“It’s nothing, I promise,” you sniffled. You wanted to get up and be a big girl. But he was so warm and soft. He smelled faintly like fresh bread and you wondered what he’d been up to all day. Or the past few days. 

You wanted to know everything about him. How he spent his time, what he thought about. You wanted to listen to his voice recite the most beautiful and heartbreaking poetry. 

Stunna kissed your forehead. “You can talk to me about anything. Even if it’s about your husband. That nigga don’t scare me,” he said.

You chuckled. But you also shook your head. That wasn’t…proper, right? There was something off about that. Then again, you were in your home snuggled up with a man that wasn’t your husband. 

Pot meet kettle. Your thoughts were still jumbled. You wanted to slunk off to be miserable somewhere. You didn’t want Stunna to see you like this. It was too early into…whatever this was. 

“You can’t scare me away, you know,” Stunna said softly. His fingers worked magic on your body, relaxing you inch by inch. You felt drowsy in his arms. Protected. 

You sighed. Fuck it. You were already crying and snotting all over him. You couldn’t get any lower from here. You laid out everything for him. How the two of you met. When you were both young and had an insatiable thirst for life. 

How kids were too far in the future, something to happen later. Only later happened much quicker. When you found out you were having twins, you’d never seen your husband so animated. He went crazy. Bought all the baby name books to pick out two cute names. While you were craving weird shit or crying for the millionth time, your husband would plot out your entire future. 

Sports events, plays, raising them together. Yet, after you had them, he was still sweet. But began drifting away. He got too serious. Too caught up in the fact that you had to buy two of everything. Double the diapers. Double the clothes and shoes. Double the toys.

Finances nearly drove you two apart. Until he got in with his company and quickly promoted. Working overtime to keep a roof over your heads and his kids fed. Keeping you secure became the ultimate goal and somewhere along the way, that initial fire died out. Wasn’t even a candle anymore.

You weren’t sure who the fuck you married. Certainly not someone who cheated so fucking easily. Who risked his life as well as yours. Your tests came back negative, thank god, but considering he hadn’t touched you in forever, you were pretty sure you were safe. Besides, you already let Stunna nut in you. 

Unburdening yourself felt good. You had become too isolated in this house. Feeling like you were in a tomb. You and your thoughts echoing in the silent chamber until you were driven mad with loneliness. It felt good being this close to someone again.  

You sighed against Stunna. “Thank you. I don’t know how I can ever repay you,” you said. 

Stunna kissed your forehead. “You don’t ever have to repay me. I’m sorry your bitch ass husband is doing this to you. You too pretty to ever cry,” he said. 

You giggled. “You are too good to my ego,” you said. 

Stunna chuckled, his hands tracing random patterns on your back. “You good for mine too,” he said.

You turned your head to look at him. He looked so innocent sitting there, like there were no thoughts behind those pretty eyes. But the more you stared, the more his eyes seemed to narrow like he was seeing straight to your soul. It was scary as hell, but also a huge turn on. 

Maybe all you needed was a sounding board. Someone to not make you feel so crazy. As you told him the whole sordid affair, he acknowledged that you weren’t tripping. That no, that bum ass nigga was likely cheating and you deserved so much better. 

You tucked those words away into your heart and vowed to cherish them forever. For now…

You grinned and slid off of his lap. He looked at you curiously while you reached for his sweats, pulling them down and freeing his girthy dick.

Fuck he was huge. Thick. The fat head twitching a bit. You licked your lips. You loved making him squirm. 

You licked the tip of his dick, tasting his salty precum. You moaned at the taste, diving in for more and more like you were licking an ice cream cone. He was so large, that you had to fist him to hold him still while you sucked him down.

“Fuuck,” he groaned. His hands flew to your head, digging in for purchase. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

You grinned, suckling him back down. He twitched more in your hands. You worshiped his dick. Knelt at the offering of a god. You sucked and moaned around his dick, applying pressure in alternating waves that made his knees jump. 

His tug at your scalp turned painful, but fuck, it only turned you on more. You loved to please him. To accept him into your mouth and wrap your lips around his fat dick. You drooled, gathering up your saliva to use your hands where your mouth couldn’t reach. You could only take him so far.

Stunna let out a low, tortured groan before unleashing his cum. You drank it all down, sliding the heady concoction down your throat. 

Stunna huffed, panting, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. How were you ever going to keep your hands off of him now?

It was like your husband cheating was exactly the excuse you needed. Asking for a divorce because you were bored or felt unloved was a stupid ass excuse. But asking for a divorce because his lying ass was cheating and you had receipts was the cherry on the cake. 

Stunna grinned, pulling his shirt off and revealing his muscled chest. You whined, running your hands across the planes of his abs. He helped you out of the robe and then he stood up. He shed his shoes and pants, discarding it all into a pile next to the couch.

He pushed you down, face on the couch and ass in the air. He played with your pussy, getting you nice and wet before he was stroking inside, working his dick in.

You whined and moaned, throwing your hand back against his chest. “Fu-too big!” You screamed.

It was one thing trying to get that animal into your mouth. Another entirely to slide inside you. He growled, rubbing your clit. You jerked forward, falling face forward onto the couch.

He gripped your wrists in one hand, pinning it to the top of your ass. “I already nutted in this pussy once so I know you can take it. That shit don’t work no more,” he growled low, filling up the living room and yet making it feel small. Intimate.

He kissed along your back and rubbed furiously at your clit, making you gush around his dick. “That’s it. Let Daddy in,” Stunna moaned.

Fuck, you moaned too. “Oh shit, fuck me,” you cried out. 

“Don’t worry, I know exactly what to do,” he said. You could picture him biting his lip while he increased his thrusts. 

Your voice was muffled against the couch cushion, but you were screaming as he slid in more easily. Somehow, your pussy adjusted to the size of him and he moved like this was his last night on Earth. 

You had no way to push against him since he trapped your wrists. “Fu-fuck, Daddy. Fuck, Daddy,” you moaned.

“Yuh, let me hear it,” he moaned.

You were careening head first into another orgasm, shutting your eyes to the sheer onslaught of pleasure. He still kept up his pace while playing with your clit. You were tag teamed for explosive pleasure.

Another orgasm snuck up on the heels of the second. You were beyond words. Beyond sounds. Just rough exclamations leaving your mouth as he pounded into you like you stole something. 

Shit, maybe you did with the way he was fucking you. 

“Don’t get quiet now, baby. Let me hear it. Sing for me, baby,” he groaned.

“Stunna-fuck! Feel so good, so good. So good, so good,” you couldn’t stop chanting. He did feel so amazing. Fucking you deep. You didn’t know how he went through life with that big dick and didn’t tilt over. 

Maybe that was why he was so damn tall. He needed to be in order to balance that monster. 

Stunna withdrew his fingers, slapping your ass. It was a wet, loud smack that made you groan. “Do it again, Daddy. Spank that ass,” you moaned.

“Fuck, tell me what you need, baby,” Stunna said.

“You. You. Just you,” you drooled onto the couch.

“Give me one more so I can nut deep in this pussy,” Stunna said. He pushed your body down until you were nearly flat against the cushion. He raised your hips, finding a way to get even deeper.

His dick completely filled you up. You felt possessed. Owned. Suffocated with his dick. 

“Stunna, please–I–” You didn’t think you could cum again. You were going to have to replace the couch cushions or something. You felt it getting wetter by the minute. Your essence dripped down your leg.

“When I tell you to do something, you fuckin’ do it,” Stunna growled.

You exploded. You screamed out in pleasure, throat raw from the effort. You gripped his dick with your pussy, fighting to keep him inside while you were breaking apart. 

He groaned and then he was nutting in you once more. Your pussy throbbed and twitched in time with his pulsing dick and your eyes rolled back into your head. You saw stars exploding behind your eyelids. 

Stunna let go of your wrists. You tried to lift yourself up from the couch, but you were weak as hell. 

Stunna slowly pulled out so that he didn’t hurt you. You groaned all the same. He truly was too damn big to be whipping that shit like he was. It was a wonder that he didn’t have a million baby mamas stashed all over the city. 

How the fuck anyone let that man out the house was a mystery. He definitely needed to be tied up in the basement for your pleasure and your pleasure only. You smiled thinking of such a thing.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he said. He kissed your forehead. You melted. Kissing your forehead after some nasty ass shit only made you want to sink into the cushion and never come back up for air.

“Go run yo ass a bath. I’ll get dinner going,” he said.

“But–”

“Do what Daddy tell you,” he said, his voice rough and accepting no arguments. He leaned over you, planting kisses all over your face until you were squealing your assent.

“Okay, okay!” You screamed. 

You didn’t call him over so that he could cook dinner for your family. It didn’t seem right that he cooked it and never got to eat it.

But if you were going to divorce the kids’ father, you didn’t need to bring Stunna around them. As a fun “uncle” or not. No, you needed the divorce to be as clean as you could make it. In the sense that your kids wouldn’t know that you were about to snatch their father through the mud and back out the other side.

You drowsily got to your feet, legs wobbling. Stunna moaned and smacked your ass. “Don’t take too long or else I’ll have to come find you,” he warned.

You winked at him as you sauntered towards the stairs. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you said. 

Stunna chuckled, crossing over to you in one long stride. He gripped both sides of your face, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. If your legs were weak before, you damn sure couldn’t walk now.

He pulled back slowly, eyes still closed. You watched as he slowly opened them. “Everything is going to work out. If you need me, call me. I have no issues taking care of your husband.”

You knew he meant murder and that thought should terrify you. He was shitty sure, but you didn’t want your kids to grow up with a dead father. That was a different can of worms. Best for them to see who their dad really was.

You leaned up and kissed him one more time. “I know where to find you. Thank you,” you said. 

Sometimes, that was really all it took. Someone telling you that everything was going to be okay. Whether it was a lie or not, didn’t matter.

Daddy said it would be okay. And so it would be.

There's always more to love!

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 1 | Part 2