#(i wrote over 2000 words today) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neuvistar · 8 months

Text

OUR SWEET DOVE.

— featuring ┊ jing yuan x fem!reader x blade (poly!jingren comeback !)

— warnings / content warnings ┊ all consensual. not proofread, mentions of pregnancy, unprotected s3x, oral (m!receiving, most specifically bladie <3), s!ze k!nk again if u squint hard enough, reader implied 2 be a lil smaller than them <3, she/her prns used once(?), petnames used, bladie referred 2 as “yingxing” like once or twice idk, overall suggestive content. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

— a/n ┊ poly jingren thirsts make a comeback! >:) i might turn this into a series called like whqt.. babymaking marathon LMFAO like separate hsr, genshin, + jjk characters to celebrate 2000+ but i’ll think abt it! wrote this during ovulation too guys this is NOT good.. anyways i don’t have a specific theme for this, it’s just.. them.. being them! ur on ur way to heaven AND motherhood !! (jokes.. unless..) god bless ur hips and waist ! goooodddd blessss you! <3 reblogs n feedback r appreciated <3

you were sure that time itself seemed to have stopped. how many times have you came, two times? three? four? you couldn’t even count anymore.. your mind and your thoughts were a mere blur to you, your lips locked with jing yuan’s in a moment of love as your breath grew more and more shallow by the second. your mind was blank, only filled with one thought.. blade and jing yuan’s soft caresses all over your body. your body moving in perfect harmony and rhythm with jing yuan’s as he attacked your mouth with his own.. tongue tangled with yours while blade kept one of your wrists pinned down to the pillow, his lips working on the flesh of your stomach as his arm kept your legs spread all nice for them. he was good with his fingers.. you can’t deny that. you can’t deny the pleasure that flows through your body when he thrusts his fingers deep inside your now-soaked cunt, it was a sight to see for both of them.. blade couldn’t help but let a smirk sneak through his lips as he curled his fingers, gazing up to see a reaction out of you. your hands clutched the general’s shoulder tighter, eyebrows furrowing at the mere curl of blade’s fingers in your walls, you weren’t complaining.. it felt nice.

you were a mere cocoon of love.. all thoughts, senses and senses, forgotten for you only focused on the present. you only focused on the three of you in this very moment.. how slowly your tongue danced with jing yuan’s, how fast blade was plunging his fingers in your pussy, it was too much to handle but you couldn’t complain no matter how hard you wanted to. no matter how hard you wanted to scold both of them, you were always silenced by the general’s lips. “spread your legs more, dove. he can’t fuck you with his fingers any faster if you keep closing them now, can he?” jing yuan broke the heated kiss between you both as he cooed inside your ear, his voice deep and filled with honey.. you were sure that they were filled with lust as well.

your back arched as you came all over blade’s digits from jing yuan’s lewd words. blade swiftly pulled his fingers from your insides, moving them in a scissoring motion as he stroked his cock, glancing over at jing yuan who pressed chaste kisses along your neck. “i think she’s ready enough, look how much she came.” the dark haired man hummed, slapping your cunt harshly as he earned a sharp gasp from your lips. “y—yingxing!”

“mm.. you sure did come a lot, dovey. it’s a shame we’ll be making you come a lot more today.” with a deep groan, jing yuan slammed his hard cock inside your soaked hole as a soft soft moan left your lips in an instant, he gripped your thighs to keep your legs from moving any further. “oho.. would you look at that.. your cunt’s already sucking me in. you’re a naughty girl aren’t you?” he taunted you further.. before you could even say anything, your words were silenced by blade’s cock. “come on.. you know how to suck right, pretty? go on. suck. suck it like you mean it.” you wasted no time as you allowed your tongue to swirl itself around his dick using one hand to stroke the areas you couldn’t reach, the warm feeling of your hot mouth around him was enough to drive blade absolutely feral.. oh how much he loved those sweet facial expressions of yours, how much he loved it whenever you tried your best not to gag.. how much he loved how easily his cock can twitch and slide itself inside your pretty little mouth. “that’s it.. f-fuck! keep.. sucking me off like that..”

your mouth moves against blade’s cock, taking him in so good and so well just as he wanted you to.. the male savoured the moment like you were a sweet treat, using your mouth to pleasure himself as he presses himself closer to your lips to thrust the rest of his length further down your throat, his fingers running through your hair. another other hand moves towards the side to wrap you in a tight embrace, jing yuan’s body shifting towards yours as the heat from your skin mixed with his.. his hips repeatedly slamming themselves against yours as some of your cum formed a ring around his cock. you felt so sticky already and they weren’t the ones cumming inside of you, your cheeks heated up at the mere thought of both of them filling you to the brim once more.

jing yuan stared down at your smaller frame beneath him, swallowing the single lump in his throat as his cock twitched inside of your gummy walls by the sight of you gagging on blade’s length. you were.. so small compared to the both of them.. it was enough to even turn him on! jing yuan shook his head, increasing his pace as he held your thighs down to your stomach to see more of your glistening and wet cunt. if only you knew just how much you were making him crave you further from how small you were, taking him and blade’s dicks like it was nothing. jing yuan’s thoughts began to wonder, how much can you take until he and blade break you? how much more can you handle? it was a question worth answering, his nails digging into your skin as he was determined to breed you and fill you up, maybe get you pregnant.. he wanted to see how much more you can handle.. how much more you can take until you can’t anymore. “if only you could see what i was seeing, lovely. y’know, you’ll make me cum faster with all your lewd facial expressions alone.. such a good girl. taking yingxing’s cock and mine so well now, are you?”

sweat was almost trickling along your forehead, your entire body was drenched in sweat.. catching sight of blade’s satisfied smirk on his face, his dark yet long wavy black hair was scattered all over the place, but he couldn't care any less at this point.. he gathered all your loose hair as he used them to keep your head still. blade kept a firm grip on your hair, thrusting his cock further into your mouth. honestly.. you weren’t even sure if your jaw would be alright the next morning.

your felt your legs shake. your own heart begin to flutter. your body trembled in your husbands’ holds, jing yuan continued to nibble on your skin as he lightly wrapped it around his fingers, moving them up and down your thigh. his kisses that danced along your tits were soft and tender, your heart raced and your breath grew heavy at the pleasure they both provided for you at that very moment. blade reached down to cup one of your breasts as his large hand engulfed it whole, twisting your hardened nipple to force a whine out of you. “pretty tits you have here, [name]. look at them, aren’t they pretty?” he glanced over to the white haired male as he replied with a nod, “indeed.” you squirmed under blade’s touch, a whine was the only thing that passed from your lips as your head tilted to the side, pulling away from his cock. your moans grew, an indication you were close.. you felt blade grabbing onto one of your hands as he made you stroke his dick at a fast pace. jing yuan bit his lip at the sight, watching his cock slide between your legs so smoothly, picking up the pace of his thrusts, slowly losing himself in your cunt. “it’d be a miracle if you gave us a baby or two, sweetest. do you think you can handle that?”

“a baby or two? why stop at that? if it were up to me, i’d fill her up with a dozen.” blade scoffed, his breath hitching as he grew close.. your thumb teasing his tip. jing yuan playfully rolled his eyes at blade’s bold claim, running his fingers through his hair as he placed his hand over your stomach. “mm.. we’ll see what she thinks. how about five, princess? is five good enough for you?” he rubbed your stomach gently, subconsciously feeling his cock thrusting in and out of you.. his lips curving into a sly smirk. “right here, beautiful. just imagine, your belly filled up.. all swollen and full of five little baby birds,”

“can you handle that, our sweet dove?”

#ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse’s diary ૮꒰˶˃̵ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა #jing yuan <33 #blade <33 #poly!jing ren x reader on the brain! <3 #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr x reader #hsr jing yuan #hsr blade #hsr x you #jing yuan smut #blade smut #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #blade x you #ovulating rn guys.. ovulation always peaks whenever i write shit ☝️

2K notes · View notes

hellishjoel · 10 months

Text

cherry

7.6k / pairing: dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

summary: Joel invites you over for a movie night with your parents and Sarah out of town. How are you supposed to focus on the film with his hand on your thigh?

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20s while Joel is in his 40s), cursing, alcohol consumption, use of pet names, softdom! Joel AND dom!Joel (restraint by command), oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, reader titty appreciation, super descript about Joel’s bulging biceps (we all know the picture that came out with him holding onto his luggage and I have not REST)

A/N: I wrote all of this today.. I don't know what's wrong with me. I hope you enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope these two are growing on ya'll as much as they're growing on me <33

Joel could sense the shift, his hand coming to gently cup your cheek and bring your eyes back to his. He didn’t look mad like you maybe expected of him. You could feel his jaw going slack under your thumb, your mouth sucking in the side of your cheek as you sat in awkward silence. You sort of wanted to leap out of his lap and return to the movie. But he wouldn’t let you, he planted you there with his hand on your hip and forced you to look at him. You teetered your wine glass on his shoulder. “You wanna kiss me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, causing a few syllables to be cut out due to the raspiness. You slowly nod. A beat passes. “Why won’t ya let me then?”

A few times throughout the summer, the lakehouse was yours and yours alone. While on vacation, your parents always make it a point to go out to dinner and drinks with their old friends that lived in a neighboring town, leaving you in blissful solitude.

You used to go with them when you were younger, too young to be left home alone. You’d hang out with their son, Nathan, on the tire swing or go swimming in their pool.

Once you and Nathan both turned thirteen, you found that Nathan was involved in a lot of sports leagues that summer, and therefore he wasn’t going to be around much. Your parents didn’t want to punish you and force you to hang out with four grown adults all day, so they let you stay behind at the lakehouse.

It was your first sense of freedom, taking care of yourself, having your own routine. You remember breaking into your piggy bank and riding your bike into town with Sarah that day to play at the arcade. You came back home with your lackluster arcade prizes and made mediocre hot dogs. It was a little lonely, the house often bustling with noise from your parents, but it was also serene to be alone.

Needless to say, you were at peace to wave your parents off this morning as they backed out of the driveway and left you and the lakehouse for the day.

Your eyes flitted over to the Miller’s. Both Joel’s pickup truck and Sarah’s used and abused 2000’s red Saturn were parked in the shade. Part of you couldn’t believe Sarah could even drive. That five-year-ish age difference felt even more profound as young adults.

You tried to find ways to busy yourself tonight until your date with Joel. Date? Not a date. Hang out. Movie night. Meet up. Rendezvous. Literally any other word besides date.

You needed to distract yourself because tonight was a ways away.

You busied yourself with cleaning your room and bathroom, followed by reading on the dock. When it got too warm, you took a refreshing dip in the lake, followed by some leisurely sunbathing. After a shower, you found solace in jotting down your thoughts in your journal, channeling any residual nerves about the upcoming night.

You found that documenting your summer experiences provided you with a sense of clarity. You aimed to revisit these entries later in life, reminiscing about the intensity of your emotions. These pages held memories of your first boyfriend, the elation of passing your driving test, the ache of lost friendships, and the journey to college.

After the bonfire, before you couldn’t even think about sleeping, you were ferociously writing in your journal. The way your heart raced, the way you were so proud of yourself for taking a leap of faith with Joel. Because it was so, so worth it.

In the decades to come, the memories you once experienced that felt so fresh would naturally fade. That’s the point of your journals, to document how deeply you felt about your life at the time. Pouring your emotions onto the page felt like tending to a wounded heart. In hindsight, those entries about sadness and turmoil elicited a little giggle. Your mom always told you that it was better to feel anything than not to feel at all.

You wondered how much Joel felt, like, really felt. On the surface, he was as cold and unmoveable as stone. What was he like with his passions and the people he cared about? You knew he loved Sarah to an unimaginable degree. He would do anything for her. But besides his own blood, what were the things he cared about?

After putting pen to paper, you shoved your journal under your pillow and started to get ready. You over-dicked-around, and now the clock was ticking.

You wanted to look somewhat nice. After your recent interactions with Joel, one where you quite literally looked like you just rolled out of bed, you were keen on looking at least somewhat presentable.

But it was a movie night, after all, and you wanted to be comfortable. You opted to wear something simple, not too date-ey, not too casual. But you did wear Joel’s hoodie. It wasn’t for any overt purpose but because Joel’s house consistently seemed to mimic an icebox. Joel struck you as someone who could thrive in Alaska, content in solitude amid the cold.

The hoodie still smelled like him, mixed with a little residual bonfire smoke, but his scent was still deeply lodged into the fabric. A navy hoodie with fraying material around the neckline and cuffs. Well-worn and well-loved. He must have loved it enough not to take it to work because it was free of any stains and rips from what you could tell.

You twirled your finger around the hoodie’s strings, looking yourself over slowly in the mirror. Your eagerness practically floated you over to Joel’s house, Sarah’s car now gone. She must have left for her camping trip.

After taking cautious steps up Joel’s rickety porch, you sent a rhythmic knock against the Miller’s front door. You heard a few heavy steps on the other side, hearing a lock flip before Joel appeared in front of you.

“It’s about time, I was starting to sweat.” You said as you pulled open the screen door that divided you two before walking past him, catching his subtle eye roll as you did so.

The house looked like the same as it did ten years ago. Lots of dark wood, a cozy living room with a fireplace, and a lamp in the corner by the window. Joel had the perfect view of the lake. You naturally gravitated further into the room to look at the water glisten as the last hits of sunshine glided over the horizon.

“You want somethin’ to drink?”

Your head snapped to Joel, your arms already crossed at the cooler temperature piercing through the material of your clothes.

“Yeah, what do you have?” Your small steps trekked into the kitchen, finally taking a full look at Joel. Your face faltered at the sight of him.

Joel had traded in his usual tattered green flannel for a nicer, cleaner denim button-up. He had on his staple worn-in jeans, and for whatever reason, he still had on his work boots. But his hair was sort of run-through, freshly showered and combed back. He looked handsome, clean, like he was trying.

You slyly smiled at him. He seemed to quickly catch your drift, already avoiding your eye contact with a huff. “I got... Whiskey,”

“Ew, no.”

“Root beer,”

“Nope.”

Joel let out an excruciatingly long sigh as he ducked his head further into the depths of his fridge, mumbling something about you being a piece of work.

“It’s water, or,” with a groan, he stood up from the fridge, “this bottle of wine. Probably old.”

Old? The bottle looked nothing but. No dust, fresh label, barely chilled. You didn’t want to call out the poor man for trying to make tonight classy, but you knew Joel had purchased this bottle of wine for tonight. For you.

If it were any other date or any other guy, you would have pushed his nose into it a bit. Teased them for caring and being so sweet. But this wasn’t any other guy, this was Joel. And if you ever tried to admit that you saw right through him, he would clam up for the rest of the evening out of his adorable bashfulness. So you let it be. For now.

“Wine’s good.” You say casually with a little nod, trying to relax your cocky smile. Even when he turned around to fetch some old wine glasses inside the very top of a kitchen cabinet, you could tell he was satisfied with himself. Hiding a smile with his back turned.

You pulled the bottle closer to read the label. You rolled it around in your hand, your thumb tracing the stamped lettering. Cherry wine.

“Haven’t had a chance to eat all day, got us some pizzas,” Joel said as his head nodded to the side, following the direction to two pizzas still warm and in their cardboard box homes on the counter.

“Can’t have a movie night without pizza.” Your voice cooed as you set down the wine to take a peak inside, seeing all of its cheesy glory.

Joel topped off a singular wine glass, your head twisting curiously at just the one. He clinked your glass with his beer bottle, and you rolled your eyes.

“Thanks.” You murmured, turning on your heel to grab your glass and one of the pizza boxes before walking it to his living room.

You sat right in the middle of the couch, not giving Joel any excuse to sit too far away.

“Scootch,” Joel said as he motioned with his beer bottle to make room on the couch. You made a little noise of disapproval toward him.

“Mm-mm.” You shook your head.

“What?”

Your sneaker tapped the heel of his boot.

“Take those off. You can’t relax during a movie still wearing work boots.”

He looked a little perplexed before looking down at his boots. Probably forgot they were even on. They were practically his spare feet at this point.

“Fine. You too.” He said as his steel toe gently nudged your sneakers in return. You softly nodded, both of you undoing your laces. Sitting on the couch arm, Joel worked to loosen one boot and then the other, hearing the methodical snap of the laces. You slip yours off with ease, picking them up by the upper heel collar and tossing them by the door. Joel just kicked his aside and sat down next to you with a thump into the cushion.

“We’re watching Pride & Prejudice.” You commandeered the remote out of his hand, his eyebrow cocking to you in disbelief.

“The hell is that?”

Disbelief tangled your facial expression. “You’ve never seen Pride & Prejudice?”

Joel’s cocked his head to the side, face sitting like stone. Really?

“Do I look like the type’a guy that watches Pride & Prejudices?”

You rolled your eyes and huffed.

“It’s based on the novel by Jane Austen. About... literally so much. The independence of women. Societal norms relating to gender and marriage. Any of this ring a bell?”

“I know Sarah likes it. That’s about it.” Your smile quips up as you click play. “Perfect.”

“Do we have to?” His annoyance held no restraint.

“This movie night is to get back into my good graces, is it not?” You asked as your body leaned away, getting a good look at him.

Through tight lips, he held back a smile before nodding a little and turning to the opening credits. “Yes, ma’am.”

It didn’t take long for Joel’s arm to settle around your shoulders, bringing your body into his side. His thumb was stroking the hoodie you wore, his hoodie.

In his close proximity once again, your senses pick up on his now all too familiar scent; Woody, minty, a little bit of citrus from his body wash. He smelled good, you wonder if he wore cologne tonight or if this was his natural musk. You wouldn’t put it past Joel to naturally smell this good. He was good at a lot of things without even trying.

A few slices of pizza and two glasses of wine later, you started to feel the weight of Joel’s unbearably heavy arm. You released yourself from him and opted to turn and rest your side against the back of the couch cushions, putting your legs in his lap.

You hadn’t been watching the movie for the last twenty minutes. Couldn’t stop trying to subtly look at how handsome Joel looked in the flicker of the television’s light from your peripheral. You couldn’t help it. He looked so big and hot, like a lumberjack, his stupid build alone making you fold.

You bite at the inside of your cheek as Joel’s large and warm palm gently make slow strokes up and down your calf. Your body was trying not to twitch. Your heart was thrumming in your throat. You glanced up at him again, his eyes lasered in on the television.

“Why’d he…” Joel’s voice trailed off, bringing your attention back to the screen.

Your eyelashes fluttered, your brain trying to get you out of Joel Fantasy World and back into the film. “Hm? What?”

“Why’d his hand cramp like that? Why’d they film that part?” Without intention, Joel’s curiosity was evident in his question. It immediately made you smile as you watched the television again, your body slumping into his side.

“It’s not a hand cramp, he’s flexing it. It’s the film’s interpretation of his like… emotional turmoil and struggle. His feelings are evolving for Elizabeth, though he’s trying to appear all aloof and distant towards her. But their physical connection, he can’t really hide it, y’know? He can’t hide how he feels. So he flexes his hand because he’s affected by her presence and her touch. He can’t help it.”

Joel’s hanging onto every word you say. You’re not so sure if he’s interested in the film as much as he is in hearing you talk about it. The hand that was messing around on your calf was now trailing higher up your thigh. And flexing the higher it climbed.

Your eyes looked from his amber ones to his lips, your heart racing faster in your chest. With one hand still clutching your wine glass, you managed to swing one leg over his lap to straddle him. You folded first. You couldn’t take Joel’s achingly slow touches.

His enjoyment was obvious in his movements, his calloused hands slowly pushing up your thighs until they landed on the security of your waist. He was gripping the hoodie in his fists, observing your silhouette.

“This mine, too.” It wasn’t a question, he was pointing it out to you. Joel giving you his own clothes to wear was by no mistake. It was a way of marking what was his, even if it was just in his mind.

“Mine now.” Your words were whispered, leaning down and kissing at the hook of his jawline.

“Like you in it. Wear it a hell’uva lot better than I do.” The shift in his voice was clear, huskier, and a little touch drunk. The film’s volume seemed softer now, playing as white noise and falling abandoned.

His words made your stomach flip, your teeth purposely grazing against his skin. The motion made his hands trail down lower to the globes of your ass, humbly squeezing the flesh with the spans of his palms. A weak moan left your lips against his ear as he planted kisses on the inner side of your neck and on your shoulder. He was so fuckin’ greedy for you.

“Joel,” you whispered between kisses along his jawline, lips coming up to his chin as one of your hands gently cupped the side of his neck while the other clutched your wine glass for dear life.

As soon as your lips came close to his, you faltered. And Joel could tell.

Suddenly both of your eyes were open, soft, and holding contact. Your lips parted, but nothing came out. The only thing that actually came from you was a little sigh of disappointment, your eyes shyly flitting away.

Joel could sense the shift, his hand coming to gently cup your cheek and bring your eyes back to his. He didn’t look mad like you maybe expected of him.

You could feel his jaw going slack under your thumb, your mouth sucking in the side of your cheek as you sat in awkward silence. You sort of wanted to leap out of his lap and return to the movie. But he wouldn’t let you, he planted you there with his hand on your hip and forced you to look at him. You teetered your wine glass on his shoulder.

“You wanna kiss me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, causing a few syllables to be cut out due to the raspiness. You slowly nod. A beat passes. “Why won’t ya let me then?”

This was Joel’s second or so attempt to kiss you. The first time was on the tailgate of his truck, you didn’t even think about letting him kiss you in his woodshed.

You weren’t trying to remain mysterious or aloof, something he managed to do so naturally. You shifted in his lap uncomfortably, your eyes drifting to the window behind his head and watching the water shift in the black of night.

“It’s not that deep, Joel. Just don’t want anyone to get attached.” You shrug and shake your head. “I don’t know, who cares?”

“I care.” Even blasted on movie pizza and beers, he was as quick as a whip. His care wasn’t soft, it was strong. He cared like a fiercely loyal shield.

You exhaled a deep sigh, your chest reflecting your breath as he slowly brought you back to him.

“I’m scared that I’ll like it.” The movie’s distant volume was comforting white noise to your nerve-wracked conversation with Joel. This was perhaps the most you’ve talked with him in one sitting. And about something so deeply personal, too.

He took in what you said, slowly beginning to shake his head as his hand cupped more seriously against your jawline.

“”t’s just a kiss.” His tone was seductive, sincere. Whispering like no one else in the world could hear. “Kiss me.”

You didn’t feel pressured, Joel was looking at you like he genuinely cared about what you had to say. About the movie, about the kissing. He bought you wine, he got pizzas, and he’s suffering through a period drama to sit beside you on his couch. Damn you, Joel Miller.

You felt your body relax into his again, no longer cold and rigid. Your bodies meshed as you fell into the front of his chest, your hand on his neck moving up to cup his jaw. You tilted up his face and received no resistance. Just kiss him.

You met his lips, soft and sweet, delicate and gentle. Your hand slipped from his jaw and landed absentmindedly on his chest, feeling his thumping heartbeat against your palm.

You didn’t pull away. It was impossible.

He tasted like mint and whiskey, with hints of residual smoke from a cigarette earlier in the day. You wouldn’t know he smoked unless you were tasting him like you were right now.

Joel was encouraging something out of you, deep and primal, as you let the kiss deepen. He took the lead with a heady mix of softness and urgency.

He set a scorching fire between your legs, purely drunk on his lips alone. It sent a shiver down your spine how intense this stone-like man could be. Your mouths moved with desire and rhythm, feeling an electric spark that sent your senses ablaze.

Goosebumps had sprinkled across the skin of your arms, your once soft hand on his jaw now clutching him there and tugging lightly at his curly tendrils. You weren’t letting him go.

Your sounds filled the room, hot and wet kisses punching the air from both of your lungs.

A breath was shared, your forehead on his as both of your chests rose and fell together.

His eyes caught yours. More?

You gently nod. Please.

He was back with you in a hot heat, both of you wanting, no, needing more of one another.

He balanced a tantalizing fusion of passion and longing, a magnetic pull that had you grinding your hips down into his lap.

The world around you faded into a blur as you felt his tongue glide across your lower lip, asking permission. Your lips easily parted, tongues dancing and melting, your hands shaking a bit in excitement.

Joel was consuming you. His tongue marking his territory as he explored your mouth before kissing you heatedly once more. You realized that the kiss wasn’t an exploration of feelings at all, Joel wanted to languish in your taste, stake out the claim of your mouth. Taste and territory.

A low grunt left the depths of his throat as your hips ground over him with desperation now. You could feel his dick swelling against your ass.

Your lips quirked up in a smirk against his, you liked that you could feel his facial expressions, and he, yours.

Without thinking, you went to cup his face in both hands, your wine glass dropping onto Joel’s chest, and what little wine you had left was splashing his denim button-up red. He didn’t even notice.

“Joel--, wait,” you were breathless as you pulled away, his lips moving to the open expanse of your neck instead, his arms tight around your lower back. He could care less about his shirt, or the wine, or the spare glass rolling around between your stomachs.

You laughed breathlessly, closing your eyes as you kept your chests apart, careful not to get wine on his favorite sweatshirt next. Your head fell back, your hair fanning out as you grinned at the ceiling.

“Joel, your shirt is stained.” You tried to point out, both of your hands clamped onto his shoulders weakly to keep him at a distance. But his lust-filled lips had a taste of you that he couldn’t replace. His teeth grazed the soft skin of your neck, wincing lightly as you let out a broken little whimper.

“Don’t care.”

Oh my god. Fuck. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, desperate for more, but you weren’t going to let him stain one of maybe three decent shirts he owned. And with wine, you had to be fast acting.

“Come on,” you said weakly, not even convinced yourself to break away. “Joel, your shirt-”

“Don’t. Care.” He growled through gritted teeth, eyes hungry as you felt him lick a hot, slow stripe up your neck to your jaw. Fuck, he felt so good.

Despite his clear lack of empathy for his shirt, you felt bad because it was your spill, your accident to try and make up to him.

You rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head. He didn’t stop until you planted both palms against his pecs and pushed him back with little force, watching as he fell into the cushions with a lazy smirk on his face as he looked over you. Joel was drunk off your kiss.

You found your footing on the hardwood floors, grabbing his hands and attempting to pull him up and off the couch. He playfully resisted, just kept sitting there as you weakly tried again.

“Stop bein’ such a dick.” You huffed. His laugh filled the room, nearly startling you. It was always quite the opportunity to hear him laugh so big like that.

“Couldn’t pull me up no matter how hard ya try.”

“Shut up. Stand up.” You ordered with little follow-through from Joel.

He yanked his hands from yours and planted his palms onto the tops of his thighs, pushing himself off the couch and following you aimlessly to his master bathroom.

“Do you have some hydrogen peroxide? Dishwasher detergent?”

He stayed silent but looked at you quizzically. You rolled your eyes and started looking through different cabinets.

“Baking soda?” Cocking your head to him, he nods and disappears before returning to you with the little orange Arm & Hammer cardboard box.

You cleared your throat and looked at him expectantly.

“Joel, I can’t clean the shirt with you wearing it. Take it off.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see his lips upturned in a cocky smirk. Sometimes you just wanted to smack it clean off his face.

Fine. With a sense of ferocity, you began to take him down button by button. He lets you. He even steps closer to your body, and you try not to get distracted by him.

“I don’t wanna be the one that messes up your nice shirts.” You murmur.

“t’s fine.” He cups your cheek again and tries to divert your attention once more. He’s not even actively trying to kiss you, he just wants to get a rise out of you now. You’re trying not to smile at him in the reflection of his bathroom mirror. Your elbow jabs into his bare abdomen after you’ve peeled the wet material from his torso.

“Quit it.”

“Quit what?”

Forcing yourself to turn away from him wasn’t enough. Now he’s behind you planting kisses down the side of your neck with his hands on your waist and toying with the hem of your sweatshirt.

You had to admit being on his lap like that got you hot and bothered to the tenth degree. Now you were nursing a stained shirt and the ache in your core.

“‘lright, fine.” Oh, thank god. You could breathe again. You were this close to caving, and caving to Joel was a losing game.

He found a towel and wiped at his chest and torso while you blotted away with a paper towel the excess wine in his shirt. After getting out what you could, you sprinkled the baking soda over the little splashes of red and added a few drops of water to make somewhat of a paste. Now you just had to wait for it to dry and toss it in the laundry.

You hoped you didn’t ruin the denim shirt, you quite liked how he looked in it. The blue denim complimented the soft silver in his curls, and the cuffs rolled up accentuated his biceps.

Speaking of biceps. Your eyes innocently watched him move around the bathroom shirtless. He was somewhat toned, a handsome mix of dad bod and muscle. Like a sexy lumberjack. He was big and broad, wide in the shoulders and smaller in the waist. With all the summer log chopping, his biceps were toned.

A shaky breath left your mouth, his eyes catching yours in the mirror before you quickly looked away, washing your hands of the baking soda paste you had made.

“It’s uh… It’s good now. Just let it dry and put it in the washer. Alone. Without anything else in there.” You quickly nodded, over-clarifying again. You braved looking at him again in the mirror. Mistake. A smug little smile that beat up your guts was laced on his lips.

Your hand was quick to reach for the door handle, but his hand was already on your other wrist and pulling you into his front.

“Get back here,” Your name drips off his lips, and it’s drenched in lust.

Fuck it.

Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck, feeling his raised trap muscles under your forearms as your lips reunite with Joel’s.

Getting that first kiss between you two out of the way was a blessing in disguise because now you knew him. You were acquainted with his lips. You liked his taste, you liked how soft he was, you liked the stubble of his beard, and you liked the way his warm palms were on you as soon as you entered his space. He embraced every inch of you, his kisses were feverish, and they left your mind in a tailspin. No one had ever kissed you like this before.

You ducked your head down before he could stop you, kissing over his wine-spoiled chest. You kissed lower and lower before licking a slow stripe up his sternum, tasting residual cherry and sweetness from the wine.

Your lips parted as you looked in the mirror, realizing now that he had pinned both your wrists behind your back and planted them at your tailbone.

Your doe eyes innocently looked up at him, his face masked in desire and an appetite for you.

“Get on your knees.”

A breath hitched in your throat, your eyes trying to focus as you looked over Joel’s face. Your eyes fluttered down to his biceps, strong and defined with veins lining like rivers coursing along the curves as they held your wrists back. You didn’t hesitate to drop down to your knees.

He had let go of your wrists, so you brought your hands up to undo the button of his jeans, but he tsk-ed you.

“But I-”

“But nothing. Put your hands behind your back again.” You pouted but obeyed. You wanted to touch him.

Your lips parted as you watched Joel pop open the button of his jeans, his thumbs lining the hem of his jeans and boxers at his hips before pushing them down to his thick thighs. His cock was already half-hard from when you were grinding on him back on the couch.

Your breaths grew heavier, you couldn’t manage to stay in his hoodie. You peeled the heavy navy sweatshirt off, leaving you in nothing underneath, which earned sweet praise from Joel as soon as you laced your hands once more behind your back.

“So fuckin’ pretty.. Look at you.” He lightly leaned over and cupped one of your tits, massaging it in the heart of his palm and rolling your taut nipple around with his thumb. A quiet whine was elicited from your throat, face crumbling as your hands fought hard not to release themselves behind your back.

You wanted to touch him, cup his face, hold his thighs, wrap your hand around his dick that was flush against his stomach.

A harsher tug to your nipple left you moaning, watching as he leaned down and let a long, long dribble of spit connect from his lips down onto your chest. Your head fell back at the cool sensation, feeling it aid the heat of your breasts.

He stood up tall again, broad and towering, as you glanced over to the mirror. The dynamic was almost charming. You on your knees for Joel, his blushing cock swelling against his happy trail. He was so handsome, so greedy.

Without thinking, you released your hands from around your back and moved to steady yourself on his thighs.

“Not gonna tell you again, pretty girl.” You paused and looked to Joel. “No usin’ your hands tonight. Just that dirty mouth a’yours.” His accent was drenched with lust, dripping like syrup.

You whined as you assumed your position with your hands away, not knowing what to expect if you tried to use them again.

You attempted to crawl closer to him, your knees practically between his slightly parted legs.

You kissed up his inner thigh, grinning lightly at the slight taste of his sweat. Your tongue kitten licked at his balls, hearing him seethe in a breath through gritted teeth. Sensitive, a little wrinkled, lightly groomed just for you. It made you smirk that he cared enough to trim.

You tested the waters, letting your warm mouth coat him in saliva, going from one ball to the other until they were both practically dripping. His cock was twitching for your attention, but Joel was above begging and groveling. For now.

With devilish eyes, you looked up to him as you suckled one of his balls. He didn’t stop you, just cursed a little under his breath as his chest moved faster. You picked up the suckling from him when he nursed your sensitive, throbbing clit between his teeth and tongue. Now, it was your turn to repay the favor.

Your lips released him with a pop, and you watched as Joel let out a breath he was holding in. His hand loosely fisted your hair in a loose ponytail atop your head, a little moan leaving your mouth as your scalp tingled with his tug.

Your eyes closed as you worked over the other ball, suckling and licking and doing it all just to watch his cock grow angrier and more jealous of the attention. Your own spit was falling down your lips and chin, coating your breasts in a glistening sheen.

Working without your hands, you used your core to balance yourself against Joel. Your knees dug uncomfortably into the floor. He liked watching you work to suck him off.

You had to look to Joel for assistance, his shaft so hardened now against his stomach that you couldn’t reach. You sat up as straight as you could, Joel smirking down at you and watching you struggle for a few brief moments. “Come ‘ere, pretty girl.” He used the free hand not tangled in your locks to guide his tip down to your open mouth, your lips wrapping loosely around the head.

You made the mistake of releasing him out of habit, whimpering as your knees scrambled on cold tile to get him back to the warmth of your mouth. He opted to help you again, guiding his tip onto your red, wine-stained tongue.

This time, you learned not to release him. Your tongue salivated his tip, swollen and sensitive. You could tell by how tight Joel clutched your hair and nearly pulled you off.

You smirked lazily around him as you took him deeper, your watery eyes on his as you interlocked your fingers by your tailbone.

You were slow at first, little nods back and forth, up and down his shaft. You blinked through any residual tears, slicking him up with your spit and proceeding farther down his shaft. You clenched your eyes closed and choked lightly as you took him to his base, a low groan of praise leaving Joel as his thumb stroked up your cheekbone.

“Fuck me, so fuckin’ good for me, darlin’.” His words were broken by his rasp, but the praise sent you into overdrive.

You bobbed your head at a good pace, Joel guiding you by your hair up and down his shaft, slicked by excess saliva that was dripping onto your tits and your stomach. You had to take a breath, but you learned from earlier. Your head came to rest against his thigh, head foggy as his tip sat plump against your cheek. You looked at the two of you in the mirror, and it was quite a sight.

Joel’s body was planted by his heels, his toned torso and biceps protruding with hints of sweat. You had black-smudged tears on your waterline, and your face was filled with warmth. Your hair was a mess, Joel gently stroking it back from your sweat-glistened forehead as you breathed through your nose. You liked watching you work in the mirror. Watching him get ruined in the mirror. Watching yourself get ruined in the mirror.

You started your rhythm again, this time your eyes locked loosely on the mirror in your peripheral. Joel’s cock made you choke each time you took him deep, but you didn’t let it stop you. He was so close, you had the heady taste of his precum on your tongue. He liked it messy.

“Fuck- can’t,” Joel let out a rugged moan, it felt like it vibrated the tiles under your aching knees. Your wrists were throbbing from keeping your arms back, hands clenched together tight as you followed his rules. “Can’t hold on when you take me so-- so goddamn good.”

You whimper-whined against his cock, hollowing your cheeks as you moved with intent up and down his shaft. You opted just to take what you easily could now, focused on keeping the pace and working towards his orgasm. You thought about Joel fucking your mouth, but he wanted you to feel some sense of control since you had your hands back. Maybe you wanted to lose all control. If it was Joel you were losing it with.

Joel was close, he couldn’t hold back how messy he had gotten. He had a steel-tight grip on your hair, and his breaths were laced with broken moans and grunts of your name. He kept wiping away any tears that slipped past your eyes and onto your cheeks, despite being devastatingly close to an orgasm you knew he was drunk on.

“Yeah, fuck me,” He murmured under his breath, his cock twitching deep in your throat now. “Take me so well... The fuckin’ best, babygirl.” The best.

You watched through blurry, head-dizzy vision as Joel’s ab muscles contorted. “Gonna cum, baby, stay with me.” He panted, eyes locking on yours as you nodded on his shaft and continued your sweet rhythm.

You whimpered as his tip pulsed against your tongue, going down on him as deep as you could and clenching your eyes closed, waiting for Joel’s impending climax. And he kept you there as he painted your throat white.

His cum came out in hot ropes, moaning lowly against his shaft as you focused on tasting him and breathing through your nose. He was salty, little beads landing in the back of your throat as you swallowed around him.

Joel’s moans were glorious, breathy, and aching to say your name. His eyes had fallen closed, his stance still tall and broad. You wanted to touch him, kiss him. You decided to lay your head against his thigh, still breathing around his dick as you watched yourself in satisfaction through his mirror.

“Fuck,” he murmured low, pulling you off of him with a pop. Your jaw lightly throbbed, but god, you felt like you were in the clouds.

“Hands?” Your raw voice whimpered. He gave a silent nod of approval, and with his permission, you released your interlocked hands and lightly toppled back on your ass, leaning against the door to his linen closet.

Joel observed you for a few moments, making sure you were okay before he grabbed a spare washcloth and ran some lukewarm water over it. Your eyes peeked open when you heard his zipper go up on his jeans, seeing he had straightened out his bottom half.

You tried to focus your vision, seeing him squat down beside you and lightly press the cold washcloth to your temple, cheeks, and up your neck. It helped, you were settled, safe, and with Joel.

“Holy fuck.” You finally said once you had come down from your high. Your eyes met Joel’s, seeing both of your mouths were quirked up in lopsided smiles.

“Too much?” He asked, the washcloth now delicately cleaning up the saliva on your breasts.

You slowly shook your head. No, never too much. Just new.

You looked around, feeling an ache in your knees and in your wrists. You rolled your wrists in circles to relieve some pressure on the joints before you pushed your palms up and down your kneecaps gently.

“Hey,” Joel’s words caught your attention, turning to him as he lightly cupped your cheek. “You were fuckin’ perfect, darlin’.” A weak mewl left you, a tired smile on your lips.

“You said the best.”

“Was perfect. Was the best. Did a perfect job.” His praise punched excitement through your veins, regaining your strength to stand back up with Joel’s honorable assistance. You murmur a thanks before you make a grab for Joel’s hoodie. As if he was going to steal it back from you.

Joel excused himself to go clean up the kitchen, leaving an attentive kiss on your cheek before he left you alone.

You took a few minutes to rinse some water around in your mouth and try to brush your fingers through your knotted, matted hair.

“Need to get yourself a brush, Mr. Miller.” You murmur as you pass him in the kitchen, seeing he pulled on a new t-shirt and that he had put some of the leftover pizza in spare Tupperware containers.

“Can’t eat it all by myself, and Sarah won’t be home for a few more days.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He could so totally finish that pizza if he wanted to. He could do it tonight as soon as you leave.

Reading your mind, he shoved the container into your hands. “Just-- fuckin’ take it, why you gotta make things so damn difficult.”

You smirked and patted the container softly. “My specialty. Irritating old grouchy men.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head at you, picking up the wine bottle next and figuring out what to do with it. Your eyes softened, watching the gears turn in his head for how he was going to handle this situation.

“Do you care if I take the rest of it home, actually? I know it’s yours, and it’s been yours for a while, but it was really good.” Lame excuse. Joel leaned into it though, nonetheless. You were at Joel’s side now, looking to him with gentle eyes and a tender smile. He teetered on his feet for a moment before he nodded and handed it over.

“Yeah, you’re doin’ me a favor so it doesn’t just keep sittin’ in the fridge.”

You nodded softly and tried to jam the cork back in as well as you could, Joel swiftly taking the bottle from you and popping it back into its home with ease due to his sheer strength.

You turned to the television and huffed, seeing the credits of Pride & Prejudice roll. Dammit.

Joel joined you at your side, crossing his arms and giving the television a once over. “So did they, y’know, end up together?” There was Joel’s pure curiosity again. This time, he didn’t hide it so well.

“Guess you’ll have to watch to find out. Don’t forget to throw that shirt in the washer.” You said with a cocky grin, holding up the wine bottle and pizza leftovers in gratitude before walking to the door. Joel followed you out, and you looked at him curiously.

“Gotta make sure you get home safe.”

Your head rolled to the side, watching as he shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “What?”

“Joel, I’m staying right next door. You could see me go inside from your living room window.”

He just shook his head and looked beyond you to the water.

“t’s dark.”

Your chest fluttered with warmth, a smile on your lips growing past one you could deny. Let him have this one.

“Thanks, Joel. Thanks for the pizza and the wine and… stuff.” Now it was his turn to let you have this one. The stuff. The kiss. The multiple kisses. He didn’t make it a big deal, just rolled with the punches. You appreciated it.

You wanted to know what was next for the two of you. The feeling of your cores grazing one another set a fire in you that only Joel could put out.

You pondered whether or not to kiss him goodnight and find a lame excuse to try and thank him again for the wine bottle when you saw two pairs of headlights coming down the road.

“Shit,” you murmured under your breath, looking to Joel with a pained expression. He looked disappointed.

You didn’t say goodnight, you didn’t kiss him before you left, you just… left. You moved down Joel’s rickety wooden porch steps with haste, sneaking into the lakehouse through the garage door as your heart thrummed at a face pace. You felt like a child getting caught by your parents.

You didn’t know what to do with Joel’s pizza container and the wine. You could figure out an excuse for the pizza later, so you shoved it into the fridge, but definitely not the half-drank bottle of red wine. You double-checked that the cork was in there tight, and of course it was because Joel pushed it back in, but you couldn’t help but check because it was going to be stowed under your bed for safekeeping.

You changed out of Joel’s hoodie and into an oversized band tee, walking out of your bedroom with a book when your parents returned through the door.

“Hey, kiddo. You’re still up? ‘t’s past eleven.”

You try not to roll your eyes, biting down on the inside of your lip as you tightly nodded. “Yeah, I know. I stay up late a lot at school and stuff, working on papers or out with friends. Staying up past eleven isn’t that weird for me.”

You didn’t mean for there to be so much venom in your comment, but you weren’t a baby. Nearly every day at the lakehouse so far this summer has elicited a few don’t call me kid, I’m an adult, I make adult decisions, comments from you.

Your parents looked too tired to care, which somehow stung worse.

“Okay, sweetie, we’ll see you tomorrow morning. Your dad and I are headin’ to bed.”

Now you felt bad. You pursed your lips and nodded, putting your hands behind your back and resting them on your tailbone absentmindedly. This was the same pose Joel had you in tonight. You already wanted to go back there.

“Sorry, goodnight.” You whisper, seeing your dad give you a tired smile before patting your shoulder.

“Hey kiddo-” He paused at the nickname and took a breath. “Sorry.” You playfully smiled and shook your head. Go on.

“Do me a favor, grab the steaks out from the freezer and put them on a plate in the fridge. Wanna have Joel and Sarah over for dinner tomorrow night. Feel like I haven’t seen them all summer.”

Your face went ghastly blank, feeling yourself fall hollow like a collapsing building. If it weren’t for how tired your dad was, he would have seen right through you like a ghost. “You- Oh, you want to have them come by for dinner? I don’t think tomorrow’s gonna work. Sarah’s camping and-”

“Oh, well, Joel can still swing by for dinner. Need to eat up those steaks. Every time I open the freezer, they stare at me. They’re beggin’ me to eat them, it ain’t fair.”

You forced out a laugh, but of course, your father couldn’t tell. Just thought he made one hell of a zinger.

“So-So Joel over for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, kiddo. And don’t forget to take out the steaks. Love you.” He turned the corner down the hall, and then he was gone.

You sighed and lightly chewed at the skin around your thumbnail. Great. One big happy family dinner. And Joel.

---

here's my masterlist!

here's how to join my taglist!

@jrrmint @gracieispunk @macfrog @strang3lov3 @notjustjavierpena @bastardmandennis @joelslegalwhre @brittmb115 @casa-boiardi @nostalxgic @cool-iguana @chim-cham-blog @joeldjarin @unsteadyimagines @pattwtf @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @schnitzelwnoodles @flippittygibbitts @turtles-all-the-way-d0wn @cartoon-garbage04 @lunarxeclipse @alltheseperfectimperfections @sunnywithachanceofjavi @kyloispunk @hopplessilse @keeponlivinmanl-i-v-i-n @toxicfics @angelicnotifs @iquitedislikeithere2 @livingdeadmaria @emmalandry @worhols @radsanchez @pedritoferg @lucyeyelesbarrow @airalihmarylu @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @suzmagine @pastawench @crazedquilter-blog @kaitangatatacos @amanitacowboy @loveisacowboyyy @kittytiddywinks @slut-for-bucky-barnes @mendessi @aphterthoughtt @chyannealaniz @pedrotonin @barbieratogabx-blog @chicville03

(idk why so many of my tags aren't working. Might make a notifications blog instead where you'd follow it and turn the notifications on and I'll only reblog my work on that account. ugh a problem for another day, okay ily ttyl I'm gonna go watch twilight)

1K notes · View notes

scoutpologist · 2 years

Text

i love shakespeare academics. i fucking love them. there’s this one guy who wrote an essay about how claudius is actually possibly innocent, or at least didn’t kill the king by putting poison in his ear, and the ghost was in part a hallucination (it’s a really interesting essay with many good points and i’m using it in my final synthesis for this class) but. BUT. some guy read it on a train. and he lost it.

this guy literally said this essay drove him to “insanity”. he went off the fucking rails about it so much so that he wrote a book over the course of EIGHTEEN YEARS about what ACTUALLY happened in hamlet and dedicated it to the guy who wrote the essay as a big “fuck you”. and that exchange between them is literally inescapable when reading about the play today. here’s an excerpt from the beginning:

this is like. the equivalent of someone making a well-thought out discourse post and then out of nowehere someone reblogging it with thousands of words of pure furious rambling about why op is wrong YEARS LATER. this bullshit started a hundred years ago, literally in the middle of the first world fucking war, and i STILL cannot escape it while reading a book on hamlet published in fucking 2000 because it’s so iconic. and i love it.

#op #shakespeare #hamlet #i want everyone to see this

8K notes · View notes

palioom · 6 months

Text

cavity search

summary: javier has left your calls unanswered for more than two weeks, so you come up with a plan that will bring him right to you.

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; cavity search; anal fingering/play; vaginal fingering/fisting; some degradation (whore, puta); handcuffs; no knowledge about airport security before the 2000s

a/n: idk what i was on when i wrote this & i wish i remembered what inspired this // banners by @saradika

• masterlist •

Checking her purse for a final time in the taxi, she smiled, seeing the tiny package of coke hidden at the bottom of it, beneath the huge cellphone, makeup and perfume and her wallet.

The plan was stupid and risky. Trying to pretend to smuggle a little coke through airport security on a fake flight over to Cali. Just to get his attention? It was worth her money.

Though, there was no guarantee that Javier Peña would be sent over once they caught her. But she was willing to bet on it since he was supposed to be near the airport today - or so she’d heard.

Because even though he couldn’t stop telling her how much he loved fucking her while his cock was buried inside of her weeping pussy, he hadn’t answered her calls in more than two weeks. Sure, this was nothing more than a bit of fun on the side, but she sure was hurt and eager to have him again.

Eager and just a bit crazy enough to do this.

When the taxi stopped at the airport, she paid the driver with a smile before getting out, straightening her short skirt.

He would love what she wore and she couldn’t wait to see his face.

The check-in was easy, twirling her boarding pass in her hands as she bit her lip. She could already feel herself get wet at the thought of him having to come here, not even entertaining the thought of them sending anyone else.

Taking out her cellphone, she pretended to make a call while going over to the security check, laughing and name-dropping some of Escobar’s associates.

Gacha, the Ochoa’s, Escobar himself.

Pretending she knew about a dropoff, not caring who heard.

It was insane, seeing the reactions by the guards around her, noticing the whispers, one of them leaving while the other waved her over to inspect her now.

“Hasta luego.” She said, all sweet and confident, putting her phone back into her purse. Smiling at the man in front of her who urged her to put her heavy bag down.

He simply searched it, placing the contents onto the table. The phone, the makeup, her perfume.

And finally, the small bag of cocaine, looking at her with a raised brow while she just smiled innocently.

“I have no idea how that got in there.” She said as he put everything into the bag again, save for the drugs.

“Sígame, por favor.” Was all he replied to her, motioning for her to follow him, another officer already approaching her as well, flanking her.

This could go very wellor incredibly bad now, letting them lead her to a private room where she simply waited, anticipation setting her body on fire. She had to squeeze her legs together to try and get some friction, growing more and more horny by the minute, her hands cuffed to the middle of the table.

Then, the door opened, and in walked Javier Peña, his face going from serious to surprised and then back to serious, all while her smile grew bigger.

“Do you need me to stay with you, Agent Peña?” The officer asked.

Javier shook his head.

“I got it from here. She’s tied to Escobar so this is my jurisdiction.” He said to the officer who let him in, giving him a stern look when he hesitated for a moment but finally left them alone.

Just standing there, he let out an incredulous laugh, shaking his head.

“Fucking hell, chiquita.” He said, feeling angry but also incredibly impressed by her boldness, knowing just by her grin this had been a plan of some sort which seemed to be going incredibly well.

“Hello, Javi.” She replied, lips still stretched wide into a smile, but her eyes were filled with excitement and hunger. “Long time no see.”

Stepping closer, he placed his hands on the table, leaning over to her, no hint of amusement on his face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at, chiquita?” Oh, he was angry. Voice quiet but deadly. “You’re smuggling drugs now?”

She giggled at his question, batting her eyelashes at him with her cocky grin and shrugging her shoulders.

“You didn’t answer my calls, Javi.”

His face fell for just a moment before he laughed, biting at his bottom lip and standing up straight. Towering over her as he rounded the table.

“You little puta.” Stopping next to her, she had to crane her head to look at him, his arms crossing in front of his chest, his biceps bulging in the short sleeved red shirt he wore. The smallest smirk curled his lips upward. “Getting arrested for what? Some dick? Is that really worth it to you?”

Again, she shrugged her shoulders.

“You should take it as a compliment, Javier. I would if I was you.”

Her heart beat in her throat at the sight of him like this, wondering if he looked at his suspects the same way he looked at her right now.

“How’d you even know they’d call me?”

“I didn’t, I just hoped they would.”

What a clever, crazy little thing. Who was insane enough to buy a cheap flight and get a baggy of drugs just because their calls hadn’t been answered in a while?

Her, apparently. And somehow, he liked it.

Javier sighed, thinking this whole thing over. Something about this had him half hard in his jeans already, the thought of her desperate pussy enough to get him going.

Maybe he could pull this through, just go along with her little game. But it would just give her what she wanted, wouldn’t it?

Reaching for the cuffs, he unlocked them, surprising her. He wouldn’t just let her go like this, would he? How would he explain this to anyone?

“Get up, looks like I gotta do a cavity search.” He said, tone flat, like he was bored, like this was routine to him. Just another workday. Meanwhile it got her going, eyes widening just a little, gaze dark. “Pretty girls like you don’t just hide a couple of grams in their purse, strip.”

Blinking up at him, her mouth fell open at the direct orders, just slightly and he had to chuckle at her dumbfounded look. She clearly hadn’t expected this.

“C’mon, I don’t like to repeat myself. Get your ass up and strip.”

His tone had her get up quickly, her hands moving to her skirt, opening the zipper at the side. As she let it fall to the floor he took his time to pat her down, first moving over her sides, really squeezing at her waist and hips before moving up again, stepping behind her. She gasped when he cupped her breasts through her clothes, maybe just a little too hard.

He had to make sure she didn’t hide anything, after all.

“You take your job very seriously.” The sarcastic remark earned her another squeeze, harder this time. “There’s nothing there, Peña.”

He grinned, letting go of her and taking a step back, watching her strip out of her underwear, the black, lacy panties landing on the floor, her ass exposed to him.

The air in the room felt cold without anything on, shivering just a little as she waited for his next orders, excited and dripping wet already.

She didn’t expect to feel the cold metal of his handcuffs on her ankle, tying her to the leg of the table on one side before he roughly took her other ankle and attached it to the other side with the pair he had taken from the table, forcing her to bend over it, fully exposed to him.

It was quiet, only their breaths softly echoing off the walls, and she just waited for him to touch her, clenching around nothing at the thought of his rough hands all over her body and pussy.

Then, he moved around her, appearing in her field of vision and going to a smaller table standing in the corner, grabbing the box of gloves standing on it. Her breath hitched in her throat but he only looked back at her with a raised brow.

“You really thought I’d search you without these?” He asked, placing the box down on the table in front of her, taking one out before he moved behind her again.

She turned her head to look at him, watching as he put on the bright blue glove, just the sound making her whimper.

“Usually we find drugs placed in someone’s ass, so I guess I’ll start there, huh?” His non-gloved hand pressed her flat onto the surface, laying between her shoulder blades, her ass perfectly sticking out for him. “Or do you want to admit to something before I start?”

She shook her head firmly, gasping loudly when she felt his fingers spread her cheeks before he spit onto her asshole, hearing him laugh at her strangled moan.

One finger pressed against the tight ring of muscle, eliciting a moan from her as it slipped inside. This was far from the first time he had put his thick fingers inside of her ass, but the situation just made the sensation feel so much better.

“Where did you even get them?” He asked almost casually as he spread her open, pushing his finger in and out of her carefully.

She moaned, fingers curling into the hard metal surface of the table, biting her lip.

“Friend of a friend, owed me a favour.” She responded, breathless.

“Fucking hell, chiquita.” He muttered, carefully adding a second finger.

A moan slipped past her lips, her own hand coming up to cover her mouth, muffling her noises while he scissored his fingers, opening her wider.

God, he was thorough in his inspection.

“Hid them pretty well, bebesita.” Javier said, pushing his fingers in all the way to the knuckle, wiggling them around and laughing at the strangled noises that left her. “But I suppose your ass is empty.”

Pulling his fingers out, he sighed, the sound of latex snapping appearing behind her before the crumpled glove landed on the table next to her and he took a new one.

“Wish it wasn’t.” She mumbled, cheek pressed into the cold metal, looking back at him. The sharp smack of his hand on her ass echoed in the room, making her cry out before she bit into her closed fist. It was a nice feeling, the pain bleeding into pleasure, his fingers now rubbing against the sopping entrance of her pussy.

“You really get off on this, don’t you?” He chuckled, pressing two fingers into her without warning, making her squirm and try to adjust her stance. “Me searching your ass? That’s what you wanted, didn’t you? Getting your ass searched and then your pretty pussy?”

She gripped his fingers tight, still pumping in and out of her, stretching her open, his words only turning her on more.

“I can feel your pussy answering me, bebesita, but I need an answer from you for the record.” Scissoring his fingers, she moaned into her hand, her eyes closing.

“Yes.” She breathed out, whining when he pressed a third finger in, the stretch bringing that sweet pain with it that she loved. “That’s what I wanted, yes!”

He chuckled, his hand between her shoulder blades pressing down harder as he leaned onto it, his fingers knuckle deep inside of her.

“Must’ve hidden them pretty well, still can’t find a damn thing, chiquita.”

She felt so close already, his gloved fingers stroking along her inner walls expertly, her knees beginning to wobble.

“Javi- Mhmm, ‘m good at hiding things.” Her words came out slurred and incoherent, biting down into her fist harder.

His brow raised at her words, curling his fingers.

“So you do have something hidden here?” He asked with a grin, stroking along that good spot of hers again and again, watching as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. “Did you just admit that you do, chiquita?”

Her orgasm took her by surprise, knocking all air out of her lungs as she pulsed around his fingers, moaning against her fist, feeling the intense waves reach every part of her body as she shook on the table.

But he didn’t stop, using the gush of wetness to work another finger into her, paying close attention to how she squirmed and moaned at the feeling, eyes closed in bliss. This was new for either of them, but she seemed to enjoy the stretch.

“Gonna have me put my whole hand up your pussy to get it?”

She was already dripping down his hand and the inside of her thighs, wetting his watch as he kept pumping in and out, four fingers inside of her.

He wondered if she could take his whole fist, in awe of how tight she was around his fingers but also how much she could fit already.

Greedy thing.

“Hope it was worth doing this, bebesita.” He rasped, watching her twitch from the overstimulation, some tears in the corners of her eyes. “Making me fist your tight pussy, think you can take all of it, baby?”

She nodded, unsure if she could take it but wanting to try, the sensation of four fingers already bordering on too much.

“Can take it, can take it.” The words were still slurred, her mind hazy as he worked her open wider. Feeling so full, so nice and stretched open.

“You better, for getting me out here, making sure you don’t have any more drugs hidden anywhere.”

Javier felt like he could cum from this alone, easing the rest of his hand into her slowly after a minute or two, stopping his moments as she let out a strangled moan, both trying to escape from him while also backing into his hand, now inside of her all the way to the wrist.

“Fuck, look at that.” A low whistle accompanied his words before he chuckled. “Taking my whole hand and there’s no drugs hidden anywhere, just wanted me to fist you. Did two weeks really get you that desperate?”

She was right at the edge again, feeling that familiar tug while the stretch threatened to overwhelm her, tears running down her cheek and onto the table.

Couldn’t believe just how full she was, thinking about how huge his hand was. Feeling the cool metal of his watch against her pussy.

“So desperate to get searched by a DEA agent, all because I didn’t have time for you, bebesita. You filthy thing.”

Tensing his fist inside of her, he pushed her over, her entire body convulsing and daring to just collapse if he didn’t press her down onto the table with the hand not currently buried inside of her. Not a single thing was in her head as she rode out her orgasm, boneless and unable to produce much noise.

Just too overwhelmed with the foreign feeling, the slight pain and the pleasure. The fullness. Reaching places inside of her she didn’t thought were possible to reach.

Javier let her ride out the waves before slowly, carefully removing his hand from her, more of her juices dripping over his forearm, over his watch. Utterly in awe of what she had done, suddenly unwilling to simply let her go.

“Nothing.” He said with a hint of disappointment, stripping the glove off of his hand, throwing it to the other one. “A desperate whore and a liar.”

She felt spent, barely registering his hand running along her pussy lips as he knelt down, admiring his work. Pretty and wide for him, he just had to have her.

Not here, though. Javier uncuffed her from the table and helped her sit down on the chair, letting her catch her breath.

“Think I gotta investigate you more thoroughly, chiquita.” He threw the gloves in the trash before coming back to help her get dressed, seeing just how fucked out the was. That would be hard to explain, but he was sure he would find a way.

After all, Javier was good at talking himself out of things.

“Guess you know more about Escobar than I thought you did.”

She weakly smiled back at him, her hand on his shoulder when he helped her stand, pulling up her skirt. Still wobbly, but giggling at least.

“You can search me all you want, you won’t find a thing. I’m just too good.” There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, her fingers curling into his shoulder. “I’d love to see you try, though.”

He shook his head, painfully aware of his hard dick straining against his jeans.

No matter how pissed he had been at the beginning of this, he certainly did not feel any of that anger anymore. Impressed with her whole idea and fucking horny because of her.

“Then let’s go and continue this in private, I’m sure I can get you to talk somehow.” He joked, moving behind her to cuff her wrists with a smirk. “The DEA doesn’t have to know about my methods, do they?”

She nodded, trying to look like he hadn’t just shoved his entire fist inside of her, stumbling a little.

“Maybe you can do a more thorough cavity search, Agent Peña.” A giggle left her at the sharp inhale behind her, looking at him over her shoulder. “I could still have something hidden up my ass, you know.”

Oh, she really was crazy.

In a way, he really was glad to have not called her back in so long.

How else would they have found out that she can take much more than just his dick?

#javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena narcos #Javier Peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x you #javier peña smut #narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedrostories #my writing

426 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 1 year

Text

Specialty Goods | Hangman x Reader

Summary: Jake is tasked with planning a holiday get-together. He’s unhappy about it, until you offer to let him sample the specialty goods.

Warnings: Fluff, smut and swears

Length: 2000

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Seriously, who let Jake in here??! He even managed to sneak onto my masterlist!

I wrote this for the Dicked Down December challenge! I hope my fic recipient enjoys it!

Jake groaned, head tossed back in extreme annoyance. He had literally pulled the short straw.

"Sucks to be you, Bagman," Phoenix told him with a bright laugh as she gathered together the pieces of the drinking straws she had cut up and tossed them in the trash.

"Yeah, have fun planning the Christmas party," Bob told him, slapping him playfully on the back.

Jake scowled. He was now solely responsible for planning the Dagger holiday get-together, something he had absolutely no interest in doing. But he knew if he didn't plan something good, he would hear about it from his fellow aviators for the entire upcoming year.

Since he was already at the Hard Deck, he decided to start making the plans now and get it over with. He'd just sweet talk Penny into helping him. "Penny, my dear, how do I go about planning a little holiday gathering in your lovely establishment?" he asked, leaning against the bar and giving her his sweetest smile.

Penny just smirked at him. "You pulled the short straw, didn't you?"

Hangman nodded his head and sighed. "Sure did."

Penny chuckled. "Okay, I'll have mercy on you. If you want, I can have Y/N help you set up a private event with a caterer and specialty drinks."

Jake straightened up at the mere mention of your name. He lived for the nights when you were bartending. He always found himself trying to stand a little taller, sound a little smarter when you were around. "Is she here today?" he asked hopefully, picturing your pretty smile and plush-looking lips in his mind.

"She's off today, but why don't you come in on Sunday an hour or so before we open. She'll be here then, and she can help you out."

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

When Jake pulled into the parking lot on Sunday afternoon, he saw just one other car. Yours. He took a deep breath and checked his hair before walking inside.

"Well, if it isn't Hangman," you said from behind the bar. Your voice had a melodic quality that he really loved.

As Jake's eyes adjusted to the dimly lit bar, he saw you were wearing a sundress, and you had piled your hair in a messy bun on top of your head. You were always beautiful, but today you looked adorable as well. He liked to hope it was just for him.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite bartender," he replied and started to make his way over to where you had lined up some glasses and bottles.

When you crooked your finger at him, coaxing him to join you behind the bar, he had to stifle a groan. He could easily imagine you luring him to bed that way, and he needed to stay focused on the task at hand. But you had always been a little flirtatious with him, more so than with the other aviators. He never tried to make a move though; there was just something sacred about a Hard Deck bartender that made you seem unattainable.

"Come check out what I've been working on," you told him, making room for him in the tight space. You handed him a martini glass filled with a red drink. "This one is a cranberry martini," you informed him. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the glass from you and tasted the cocktail.

"Delicious," he told you, and he knew his gaze inadvertently dipped down to your mouth when he said it. "I like it, what else you got?"

You smiled up at him as he handed the glass back to you, and you took a sip as well. Your pink tongue darted out to catch a drop of the drink from the edge of the glass before setting it down on the bar. You were teasing him, whether or not it was your intention to do so.

Then you were speaking again, and he was trying his best to focus on your words. "I made a minty citrus gin cocktail. It's strong, but I kind of like it," you told him softly, taking a small taste yourself before handing it to him. Jake watched you lick your lips as he took the glass from you. He would rather just taste your lips to get an idea of what the drink was like.

"I love it," he told you before he even took a sip.

You started laughing. "You didn't even taste it yet, Hangman!"

He shook his head slightly and grinned. "You're too good for it to be bad," he promised, but he took a drink anyway. "It's perfect."

You grinned up at him as you grabbed the third drink and took a step closer to him. "This one is eggnog with extra rum and spices. I've never made one like this before."

Jake smiled. "Is it special, just for me?" he asked, dying to know how you'd respond to that.

Your eyes widened as you watched him take a sip. "You know I would never give away the specialty goods to anyone else," you said with a wink that had Jake's cock twitching with excitement.

"Specialty goods?" he asked softly, his eyes dipping down to your chest. "You got any more of those that I can sample?"

You smirked at him. "I have one more thing ready for you," you whispered. "Wanna taste it?"

Jake nodded. "Yes. Please?" He was practically ready to beg you to let him taste your mouth.

You bit your lip, seemingly trying to make up your mind before you reached for his hand and laced your fingers with his. Jake was instantly pulling you flush against him. He knew you could tell that he was hard, so he waited for you to make the next move.

When you rested your palm against his chest before guiding your hand over his shoulder and around the back of his neck, he tightened his grip on your waist.

"Well... since you asked so sweetly," you whispered, rubbing your nose softly against his before you kissed him. Your lips were just as soft as he always imagined they would be. Jake guided your laced together fingers up until both of your arms were around him.

Jake gently moved you until your back rested up against the edge of the counter. He ran his hands slowly up and down your sides as your kisses turned from the sweetest thing he had ever felt to something hotter. You wrapped one leg around his, pulling him until he was snug against your core.

"Oh, God," he gasped as he rubbed himself against your warmth, and you released his lips in favor of his neck.

"Tell me you've thought about me like this," you whispered against his skin between kisses. "Tell me it's not just me."

"Fuck," he growled. "I think about you like this every time you make me a drink. Then I think about you when I get home."

You sucked hard on his neck. "Do you touch yourself?" you asked, and Jake started hiking up your short dress.

He grabbed your hips and ground against you. "I think you know I do, honey. And I'd love to touch you this time."

"Yes," you said before you licked his neck and moved your lips back to his. Jake let his fingers slip inside your underwear as he teased you before sliding a finger through your wetness. "Jesus," you gasped as he fucked you with one finger. He watched you reach along the wooden counter behind you with one hand, searching for something to grip onto.

"You're gorgeous, honey," he whispered as you whined. "Can I fuck you?"

"Hangman," you moaned as he slid a second finger inside.

"I'm Jake," he insisted next to your ear as he buried his face in your sweet scent.

"Jake! Fuck me on the bar," you groaned.

"I could listen to you say that all day," he grunted. He pulled his fingers out of your pussy, and lifted you up so you were sitting on top of the bar, a few feet away from the drinks you and he had been sampling. You squealed in delight as he jumped up next to you. You leaned back and turned slightly so you were laying down along the length of the bar, and he pressed himself on top of you.

With a smile on your face, you reached for the fly of his jeans and undid them. When you reached inside his boxes and pulled his length free, Jake let his head tip down to your shoulder. You stroked him and hummed next to his ear. "Now I'll think about this every time I pour a whiskey for you."

Jake mashed his lips against yours as he pulled your underwear to the side and groaned as he slid into your perfect little pussy. You whimpered and devoured his mouth while he pumped into you. The front door was unlocked, and Jake knew if someone was in the parking lot, they would be able to see what was going on through the windows. But that just added to the appeal for him, and apparently it was doing the same for you.

"This is filthy," he whispered against your skin.

"I've always wanted to do this," you said breathlessly as Jake pulled your dress down until he could get your nipple in his mouth. "And it's so good with you."

"Fuck!" Jake groaned. "You're killing me, honey."

"Keep going, Jake." He fucked you until he was on the edge of coming, and you ground up gainst him as you cried out, your voice echoing through the empty bar.

"Can I cum inside you?" he managed to ask, ready to pull out if you said no. But you wrapped your legs around him and told him you wanted him to. So he came, hard, grunting and panting.

Jake listened to the sound of your breathing and lifted his face to look at you, and then you pulled him down for another sweet kiss. You were smiling and teasing his lips when you both heard a car door slam shut.

"Fuck!" you said in unison as Jake scrambled to get down from the bar, knocking over the cranberry martini in the process. He lifted you gently to the floor, and left you to stand on shaky legs.

He quickly buttoned and zipped his pants before wiping up the spilled drink. He was pretty distracted by you as you tried to fix your dress and your hair before Penny walked inside.

"Hi!" Penny greeted, eyeing both of you where you stood behind the bar. "I just wanted to make sure all of the party planning was coming along. Thought I'd pop in a little early."

"It's going great," Jake told her. "Just exactly what I was hoping for."

"Yep," you agreed, picking up a shaker that Jake suspected was empty. "Going so great."

"Good! Then I'll just be in the office until we open," Penny said, before disappearing through the back room.

"Close call," you whispered as Jake threw away the chipped martini glass. "Um..." you said, blushing profusely and kind of shrugging awkwardly at him. "That was..."

Jake pulled you against him and kissed you softly. "Do you want to come to this Christmas party with me? You'd be forced to spend the evening with my idiot friends, and I'm sure it'll probably be painfully annoying, but-"

"Yes, I'd love to."

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

Two weeks later, Jake was standing hand in hand with you, sipping on one of your specialty eggnog drinks and socializing with the other aviators and their significant others and families. The Hard Deck had been reserved for the private party, and Jake was actually enjoying himself. Probably because you were at his side wearing a dress he couldn't wait to take off of you later.

"You enjoying that drink? Want another one?" you asked. "I'll get Jimmy to make two more for us."

Jake nodded. "I love the specialty goods around here," he said before kissing you.

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

Thanks for reading! But someone needs to take Jake home with them now, seriously.

@deactivated-bybloguser @sotalife @desert-fern @furiouspiespytaco @beyondthesefourwalls @rosiahills22 @high-bi-imgonnacry @daggerspare-standingby @je-suis-prest-rachel @callsign-joyride @theharddeck @captain-beskar @withakindheartx @roosterscockpit @whatislovevavy @rosesreekofoccasion @hangmanbrainrot @neferpatra @child-of-thedevil @callsign-joyride @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @mygyn @hoyaharper @tallyovie @gennyanydots @endofdays56 @whisperofsong @seriouslyseresin @double-j @bradshawsbitch @sugarcoated-lame @katiebby04 @anotherr-fine-mess @supernaturaldawning @chassy21 @strrywmen @tylerjones98 @captainjaspenor @gigisimsonmars @dhwanishah09 @angel-w0nderland @abaker74 @idontcare-11 @isaebellaa @bringnattolife @hufflepufftruffle @blahehblah @sehnsuchts-trunken

#dicked down december #top gun fanfiction #hangman top gun #hangman x you #hangman smut #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x you #hangman fic #hangman imagine #hangman x reader

1K notes · View notes

scotianostra · 23 days

Text

May 12th 563 The community of Iona was founded by Colum Cille (St Columba) from Ireland.

Columba is undoubtedly the most important saint associated with Celtic churches.

Legends about him grew over the centuries, and many of the stories must be treated with caution. One of the more famous paints him as a sort of Christian sorcerer's apprentice, naughtily copying his master's precious psalter by the light of his own hand, and thereby sparking a major battle!

Iona's fame began in 563 AD when Columba, with thirteen followers,although some say 12, landed at the south end of the island, at St Columba's Bay, to establish a monastery.

So too, hundreds of poems, some quite romantic in their descriptions of nature, others simple devotional verses, were attributed to the saint long after his death. Nevertheless, through the obscuring mists of his legends have endured and many make the pilgrimage every year to visit Iona. His feast day is on June 9th.

I remember a friend saying that these dates for birth, deaths and the one like today and be so certain, well they can't be 100% certain, the changing of the calendar muddies the waters a wee bit along the way, but the main source of dates is through the old christian calendar and more precisely the feast days. Now I'm not sure of he actual nearest date to May 12th, but the main one must have been easter, so the founding of the Abbey at Iona may have been x amount of days after this feast day.

The first abbey on Iona was made from wood and clay, providing a house for Columba and his twelve disciples to practise their monastic faith.

For the surrounding Gaels, Columba’s monastery was a welcome asset, providing education and learning for their men. Columba died in 597AD but his abbey continued to thrive and its Columban monks continued to found monasteries as far as Northumbria, spreading the word of their God.

Just as stories of Iona’s great founder were beginning to fade into history, the ninth abbot of Columba’s monastery, Adomnán, wrote a hagiography called Vita Colum Cille (Life of Columba).

Vita recounts stories of Columba performing miracles, such as turning water into wine and reviving young men from the dead with his prayers. ‘He merited frequently to enjoy the delightful, most sweet, and luminous visit of holy angels,’ and on another occasion ‘by Christ’s help, he restrained the furious rage of beasts by striking them dead.’

Born 30 years after Columba’s death, Adomnán clearly held Columba in saintly esteem.

The first pic shows a drawing of the ruined abbey church in 1761, the second and third as the restored abbey looks today after George Fielden MacLeod, Baron MacLeod of Fuinary, led a group which rebuilt the abbey, and founded the community on Iona we know nowadays.

In 2000 the Iona Cathedral Trust handed over the care of the Abbey, Nunnery, and associated sites to Historic Scotland

#scotland #scottish #history #religious history

34 notes · View notes

thewolvesof1998 · 6 months

Text

WIP Wednesday/Last Line Tag

Tagged by the wonderfully talented @jeeyuns @callmenewbie @eddiebabygirldiaz @try-set-me-on-fire @wildlife4life @malewifediaz @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 (all of you are being tagged in the Last Line Tag)

Since so many of you loved the snippet of my secret fic I thought I would give you one last teaser before I post this (still have to finish the fic- it's currently over 2000 words which was its original length but Eddie's spiral took longer than I thought 😂- I'm going to finish it either today or tomorrow 🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼) Previous Snippet:

He lets out a long and deep sigh and gets out of his truck. The walk to his front door is torturously fast, his keys are in the lock and his boots are off and before he knows it he’s standing in the doorway to his kitchen watching Buck. He’s got his back to Eddie and is swaying to a song on the radio and all Eddie wants to do is go over there and sink into Buck’s back until the only way you would be able to pry them apart with the jaws of life. Selfishly he follows that instinct, crossing the distance quietly so when he wraps his arms around Buck’s waist and buries his head in that space between his neck and shoulder Buck jumps in surprise before melting back against Eddie. Buck’s hand comes up to run through Eddie’s product-free hair, fingers scratching his scalp and sending shivers down his spine. Eddie breathes him in, the vanilla scent of his own body wash on Buck's skin is almost intoxicating. “Hi baby,” Buck murmurs, Eddie responds by placing a kiss on Buck’s skin, unable or unwilling to form words when he knows the conversation they have to have. He’s tempted to slip his hand lower and finish what they started this morning. It would be so easy to use physical intimacy to delay this but Eddie is working on using his words, the guilt is eating away at him and anything more than this without telling Buck would be, well, not something he’d ever want to do to him.

@jesuisici33 also tagged me in the last line tag and this is the last line I wrote for this fic:

Buck folds over, clutching at his stomach and at first Eddie thinks something is seriously wrong - another moment flashes before his eyes, blood spills out of Buck's mouth as he collapses - the first letters of Buck’s name on his lips until he hears the full-bellied laughter fall from Buck’s mouth and of all of the responses he’d imagined getting from Buck, laughter wasn’t one of them

Tagging: @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @jesuisici33 @bekkachaos @buddierights @spagheddiediaz @911-on-abc @shitouttabuck @911onabc @your-catfish-friend @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @mangacat201 @theotherbuckley @hoodie-buck @eowon @rainbow-nerdss @nmcggg @pirrusstuff @evanbegins @giddyupbuck @sammysouffle @smilingbuckley @carrierofthepaperclips

#9-1-1 #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie fic #thewolvesof1998 writes #wolf's secret fic #wip Wednesday

73 notes · View notes

faebaex · 1 year

Note

Lilia Vanrouge | GN (AFAB) | Getting Drunk on Absinthe Chocolate (SFW or NSFW)

I’ve been eating absinthe chocolate lately and couldn’t help but think about the old man because it’s also called « green fairy chocolate » and I think Lilia would find it cute to see MC getting drunk on chocolate !! (〃ω〃)

500 Follower Valentine Event - Lilia Vanrouge

author note: dasfsgh i can't believe i said these would be short and then i wrote almost 2000 words for this Lilia prompt (*ﾉωﾉ) can you tell my bias is showing?? dear me, this old man won't even come home yet he still won't let me live o(>< )o anyway! happy Valentines Day!!

characters: Lilia Vanrouge x GN!Reader

You hurriedly packed away your textbooks and stationary as Professor Trein signaled the end of class, throwing them haphazardly in your bag as you pushed back your chair, giving your friends a rushed goodbye before leaving them in your proverbial dust as you rushed through the corridor back to your dorm.

After all, you needed to get ready for tonight!

You'd been excitedly waiting since February began. Today was Valentines Day, and you'd be spending it with your love, Lilia. A sudden onslaught of snow had disturbed your plans, but you'd both agreed to share the evening together, a lowkey event in his bedroom - a meal, maybe a movie, cuddling guaranteed. For some, such low effort may be unappealing on such a hyped up day, but for you, it was perfect.

You reached Ramshackle at record time, careful not to take the door off its hinges in your excitement. Rushing to your bedroom, you hurriedly showered and began to get ready for the night ahead, thankful that you'd chosen your outfit ahead of time. The excited butterflies floating in your stomach had you knowing you'd be fretting now if you hadn't.

Around an hour later, you were ready. Having already left some tuna and a note for Grim, you picked up the hefty giftbag by the door with a smile on your lips and made your way to the Hall of Mirrors to go to the Diasomnia dorm.

Lilia was waiting for you as you crossed through the threshold into the Diasomnia space, immediately greeting you with a bow that made you giggle before looping his arm through yours, leading you onward and inside his dorm, towards his room.

"You look absolutely delightful, my dear." Lilia complimented with a twinkle in your eye, and you felt a bashful flush dust your cheeks despite your grin. "You don't look so bad yourself." You teased back, Lilia shooting you a wistful smile at your banter. You reached Lilia's room, and he stopped purposefully outside the door. You shot him a confused look at his sudden pause, but he turned to you and gave you a mischievous smile.

"Now close your eyes, and I'll lead you." Lilia instructed, and you raised an eyebrow at the request. "O-okay..." You agreed, closing your eyes as requested, only to stiffen with a chill up your spine as you felt a puff of air ghost your ear, "and no peeking, because I'll know..." Lilia purred, and a blush erupted over your cheeks as you blindly attempted to bat him away, but of course missing. "Lilia!" You chastised, not without a smile on your face, only hearing Lilia's signature laugh as he gently grabbed your free hand and began leading you forward. You heard the creak of his door opening and you being led forward again, before the soft click of the door being shut sounded behind you.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now."

You opened your eyes and you felt your breath catch in your throat. You would have done a double take, to check that you were actually in Lilia's room if you weren't so taken by the wonderous sight in front of you. Lilia's room was entirely transformed, all furniture pushed aside so a large blanket could lay on the floor, loaded with a picnic basket and all essentials. But the most wonderous sight was above, for the ceiling was transformed to look like the night sky, stars twinkling and shining above akin to the clearest of nights. Ethereal light bathed the room, courtesy of several will-o'-wisps that floated carefree around the room, finishing the aesthetic and pulling the room together to look like a magnificent dreamscape.

"Lilia..." You let out the puff of air that you didn't realise that you were holding, the beautiful scenery around you making you almost lose your words, "... I... You... This is..." You felt arms curl around your waist as Lilia hugged you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder, "I trust its to your liking?"

"Lilia this is... Amazing... How did you manage to do this..? You set this up all by yourself?" You turned to face him as you spoke, Lilia's arms loosening around you to allow the movement. He smiled once he could see your face, the smile maybe just a hint smug as he gazed at you, "isn't it wonderful what a little magic could do? My, one would even say such a display deserves a little kiss." If you weren't so shocked by the scenery around you, you'd have teased him for making such a remark, but instead you simply leaned and placed a small kiss upon his lips, his eyes lidding and expression becoming much more smug at how compliant you were.

"Mm... Come now, my dear. Your picnic awaits." Lilia guided you over to the blanket, you carefully dodging a passing will-o'-wisp, not wanting to disrupt it lest it spook. Lilia chuckled indulgently at your display, taking a seat on the blanket and patting the spot beside him. You carefully lowered yourself down beside Lilia, placing the giftbag beside you mindlessly. The rustling of the paper finally brought the bag to Lilia's notice, and he tilted his head towards it, "oho. Might that be a gift for me?" His question was finally enough to break you from your spellbound-like state, and you grinned, pulling the bag into your lap and then passing the handle to Lilia. He took it, his fingers brushing against yours in what you would swear was a deliberate gesture before pulling the bag into his own lap and reaching a hand inside.

"Oho, now how did you know I had a particular liking to these?" Lilia hummed, pulling an almost comically large sized box of chocolates from the giftbag. You smiled almost conspiratorially, leaning towards him as he laid the chocolate box across his lap, "Sam told me those chocolates are also known in some places as 'green fairy chocolates', and it reminded me of you instantly, so I had to get them. And," you stuck you tongue out cheekily, "I thought it was cute that the box was almost as tall as you."

Lilia scoffed at your words, a glimmer in his eyes that you couldn't discern as he smirked at you, "careful, you never know when I'm due a growth spurt." Lilia slid the box of chocolates off of his lap to join the rest of the picnic before he grabbed your wrist to haul you onto his lap in a way that had you straddling him. "Well, now it's time for your gift."

Lilia fished into his pocked before bringing out a small, cube box. He placed it gently in your hands, and you were hesitant to open it. "Lilia..." You began, only for his to jostle your hips from side to side to stop you. "Just open it." He said firmly, and you looked at him reproachfully before carefully opening the box.

Inside, imbedded on a simple velvet cushion, was a ring. Only a simple glance at it would confirm that it fit Lilia's cutesy style impeccably. The ring was chunky in style, reminding you of rings you'd see being styled in decora fashion. A cute depiction of a bat adorned the middle of the ring, with small gems forming a circle around it. Despite its cutesy style, you could tell from closer inspection that this ring was not cheap - which broke your Valentines rule.

"Lilia, we set a price limit and this is definitely above the price limit!" You scolded, and Lilia only smiled with an air of faux innocent beneath you, "and who told you that? I don't recall there being a price tag anywhere." He sang and you began to pout, only for him to take the ring from the box and present it to you, "allow me to do the honour?"

You felt your cheeks flush again, feeling suddenly bashful as you presented your right hand for him to slip the ring onto your finger. He tutted, but slipped the ring onto your fourth finger all the same, the fit perfect. "A shame, if only you had presented your left hand..." You lightly slapped his shoulder at his outrageous comment and he chuckled, squeezing your hips before giving you a pat.

"Let's feast, shall we?"

You were laying on the blanket, staring up at the starry sky above you. It had amazed you greatly when you saw the first shooting star rocket across the ceiling, prompting both you and Lilia to lay side by side and stargaze together. You mind felt a little fuzzy but you couldn't quite pinpoint why. Your heart felt warm, but so did your cheeks, and the urge to smile and giggle was almost overwhelming.

You reached out and grabbed another green fairy chocolate, taking a bite out of it and tasting the sweetness with the unmistakable hit of licorice. You suddenly giggled, giving into the urge that had nagged at your cheeks for awhile now, and pointed up at the ceiling, "hey, that cluster of bats there kind of looks like stars."

Lilia rolled over so he was facing you, propping his face up on his hand as he stared at you with unconcealed amusement. "Hm, would you like to try that again, dear?" You rolled your head towards him, squinting as you tried to figure out what he meant. Eventually, it dawned upon you and you covered your mouth as fresh giggles sputtered forth. "Oops."

Lilia smiled indulgently at you before propping himself so he could lean over you. "Perhaps you should ease up on the chocolate, love." As he spoke, he leaned his mouth towards the half chocolate that you still held between your fingers, but you defiantly popped the rest of the chocolate in your mouth before his lips could reach it. He pouted at your action, settling to press a chaste kiss to your fingertips instead, "so disobedient." He purred, his gaze heavy lidded as he chased your hand as you tried to reach for another chocolate, eventually lacing his fingers through yours to stop you from grabbing another chocolate.

"Do you know what are in these, love?" He teased, his thumb gently stroking along your finger in a loving gesture. You hummed, feigning as though you were actually thinking about his question, before giving him a bubbly smile, "chocolate?" you said, not realising how slurred your words sounded as they fell from your lips. Lilia clicked his tongue, yet his indulgent smile did not change as he shifted his weight so that he could properly straddle you, a knee planted either side of your hips.

"Oh dear," he sighed, looming over you and stroking his free hand gently over the flush of your cheeks, you leaning into his cool touch as it ghosted down your cheek towards your chin, "I should have kept a better eye on you. But I must say, it is so cute that just a few chocolates have got you into this state... What an unexpected gift..."

You pouted at his words, your mind too fuzzy to do much else, much lest fuss about whether his words actually bothered you or not. Lilia took in your expression with heavily lidded eyes, his crimson gaze burning into you as he tilted up your chin.

"No need to pout, my love. I'll give you as many kisses as you desire..."

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x y/n #lilia vanrouge x y/n

262 notes · View notes

kvhasproblems · 2 months

Text

My essay for my film history class on “But I’m A Cheerleader” and lesbian cinema history:

Reposting this now that school is done lol

I wanted to post this because I found it very interesting while doing my research into queer cinema history. It’s not the best essay and the end could be better but I am a first year Uni student lol. Please don’t like plagiarize or whatever lol. It’s also 2000 words.

Edit: This essay only got a B+ which my worst of the year despite this being my fav one I wrote lol. My prof said that I was trying to cover to much and that it lacked some specificity and details, which I definitely agree with in some parts.

Camp, Queer History and Cheerleaders.

Though lesbians have existed throughout history, history has fought to bury them and their experiences, with the media of film being no different. Lesbians in film were not somewhat normalized until the 1990s; the first major lesbian film in North America (directed by a lesbian) was Desert Hearts by Donna Deitch, released in 1985. This was followed by what some have deemed the Queer Revolution in media in the 90s. With the end of the Production Code Administration or Hays Office (also known as the 'Hays Code') in 1968, it created opportunities for queer people to tell their stories, and with the milestones queer rights took after the Stonewall Riots, the queer community was more united than ever. With the rise of more readily accessible film equipment, movies made by lesbians for lesbians began to hit the screens. It is important to note the distinction between films focusing on lesbian or women-loving-women (WLW) relationships made by queer women versus those made by straight men, as movies made by men tend to have a distinct Male Gaze. As Laura Mulvey said, "In a world ordered by sexual imbalance, pleasure in looking has been split between active/male and passive/female… Women displayed as a sexual object is the left-motiff of erotic spectacle… she holds the look, plays to and signifies male desire" (809). When talking today about popular queer films, most brought up were made in the 90s. Specifically, one film made in 1999 became a cult classic and a staple for queer cinema. But I'm a Cheerleader, directed by Jamie Babbit, is tag-lined as "A comedy of sexual disorientation." Despite its bright colors and Campy comedy, it tackles issues of sexism, homophobia (internalized, externalized and projected) and misogyny.

As mentioned, lesbian cinema did not make an appearance until 1985, which seems late when looking through the lens of North American society today. This late emergence can be directly linked to the mandatory and non-mandatory censorship present from the years 1934-1968 and 1968 to the modern day, which is still being affected by abolished codes set in place almost a century ago. As the film media became more popular among the masses, people began to worry about what was being shown to the populace. To quote Stephen Vaughn, "Fierce debates over the content and control of the new medium arose in the early days of silent film and intensified with the advent of sound technology" (39). He goes on to further mention how groups like progressive reformers and religious and civic organizations wanted (and tried many times) to censor and control not only the content of the films being shown but also the types of people making them (40). Starting from a list of "Do not's and Be carefuls" that aligned with Christian/Catholic values, the Hays Code was created and fully established in 1934. The Hays Code had many guidelines that today would be considered discriminatory, for example, no white slavery and any inference of sex perversion (interracial couples and homosexuality) (44).

Since homosexuality was censored from the screens, people got creative in implying and subtlety making reference to queer struggles and relationships; this became known as Queer-Coding. Even after the end of the Hays Code era and the start of The Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA), queer people were rarely openly depicted. More often than not, they ended up being queer-coded characters, with the implication being left for the audience to pick up on and read between the lines. As homosexuality was still not in public favour, open depictions, especially those not from the male gaze, were rare and even more so rarely celebrated. The depictions from the male gaze were often harmful, stereotypical and deeply rooted in homophobia. As Melinda Roddy wrote, "People felt compelled to self-regulate as a result of this and the lasting effects of the Hays Production Code of 1930. The film industry was under official or unofficial censorship for nearly half a century, and this restricted the movies that could be made, especially films about LGBTQ+ characters" (126). The Stonewall Riots of 1969 was a needed push for the queer community to further establish queer activism in America, and the Aids Crisis of the 1980s pushed the lesbian and gay communities to become a more unified front. (Prior to the Aids Crisis, the two communities were divided by sexism. "While men who are attracted to men are discriminated against and marginalized by the homophobia of American society, Sapphic women are affected by both homophobia and sexism" (125).) Now having a unified front and queer activists, the fight against homophobia was rampant. This opened up doors for queer filmmakers to tell the story that people fought so hard to censor for decades prior, and so on September 12th, 1999, But I'm a Cheerleader premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival.

The film follows Megan who appears to be your typical high school cheerleader she has an all American football playing boyfriend, she is blonde, wears girly clothes and is a Christian. Except Megan hates kissing her boyfriend, has pictures of bikini-clad women in her locker and is a vegetarian. Fearing their daughter is a lesbian, Megan's parents send her to 'New Directions,' a "rehabilitation" camp to help Megan become "Ex-Gay" in five easy steps. As Megan arrives at New Directions, it can only be described as a campy, life-sized doll house. Before going into an in-depth analysis, it is important first to note what Camp is, as the Camp is not only the main genre of the film but is quintessential to understanding the visual and narrative elements present in the film. To get a brief look into the art of Camp, refer to Susan Sontag's first, third and seventh notes on Camp. The first note on Camp, "To start very generally: Camp is a certain mode of aestheticism. It is one way of seeing the world as an aesthetic phenomenon. That way, the way of Camp, is not in terms of beauty, but in terms of the degree of artifice, of stylization" (2). The third note on Camp is, "Not only is there a Camp vision, a Camp way of looking at things. Camp is as well a quality discoverable in objects and the behaviour of persons" (2). And the seventh note on Camp, "All Camp objects, and persons, contain a large element of artifice. Nothing in nature can be campy" (3).

Though Camp is present throughout almost every aspect of this film, it appears most extravagantly in the set and visual design of New Directions itself. The house mimicked a Barbie doll house and is brightly coloured in almost neon pinks, greens, yellows and blues, with each room having a mostly monochromatic colour palette. This is true to Camp in its distinct level of artifice, as what is a more false sense of reality than that of dolls in a doll house? Camp is used throughout the film to mock the expectations of society, gender roles and the idea that someone can become an "ex-gay." The women are dressed all in pink, a colour associated with femininity and girlhood, and a colour society dresses up little girls to drive home their assigned gender at birth. The steps to becoming an ex-gay include things like cooking, cleaning and childcare, and the stereotypical housewife expectations put on women to keep them isolated and submissive. The men similarly wear all blue and do things like sports, fixing cars and playing with guns, all while phallic-looking symbols surround them, for example, the large blue wrench and wheels in the background of the fixing car scene and the blue cut-out of a man holding a "gun' to another man on his knees in the playing war scene. The film goes so far with the idea of falsehood that the characters' outfits are made of fake shiny plastic at the graduation ceremony, and their hair is done perfectly. They could be mistaken for dolls; it is a visual representation of how they have been forced by themselves and the authority figures to be exactly what they want them to be, not who they are.

Referring back to nothing in nature can be campy; the moments where Megan and the others are true to their nature and self are moments most free from the camp lens. The moment when Megan realizes she is a homosexual starts with light disorientating music and camp over-the-top visuals of her realizations. Her outburst is met with praise and hugs, which is Camp, but as her peers leave and she is left to sob on her own, the absence of back music is prominent as nothing can be heard besides her sobs as the camera cuts back to show her in the now empty room, with no one to face but herself. Most of the private moments between Graham and Megan also lack the falsehood of the majority of the movie. The first real private conversation the girls have takes place outside in nature, down the hill from the doll-like house. At the 36-minute mark, they have an open conversation where Graham says the line, "This is bullshit Megan, you are who you are. The only trick is not getting caught." It is the first time Megan begins to look at homosexuality from another lens, not the hateful agenda pushed upon her.

The contrast between the figures of authority and the subordinate characters is most prominently the level of falseness and Camp. The boy's teacher, Mike, is a so-called "ex-gay," but he constantly eyes up Mary's son and follows all of the behaviours he preaches against. Played by famous drag queen, comedian and advocate RuPaul, who is known for being gay, we instantly associate and see the repression of his character. The most false of all is the head of New Directions, Mary Brown. She is constantly wearing the most eye-blinding shade of neon pink, standing out in every scene she is in like a sore thumb. Nothing about her is natural; her face bears too much makeup, and her tone of voice is a forced grating mimicry of calm collectiveness; even her son is gay, regardless of the steps she takes to fix him. It is comical when she encourages youth to follow their "true direction" when she is never true to herself outside of the compounds of her hate and anger. Multiple times, the figures of authority are shot from a low angle when addressing the subordinate character, making them seem larger than life, towering over the kids, emphasizing the power that Mary and Mike have over them.

But I'm a Cheerleader has become a cult classic within the queer community and has had a long-lasting impact on generations of queer people; for its representation and campy comedy, it explores and subverts traditional depictions of queerness in media while addressing issues of homophobia and misogyny. While some say the Campy comedy hides the complex issues presented in the film, an argument can be made that the over-the-top Camp set design, clothes and dialogue provide a deeper look into the harsh, complex issues that people tend to shy away from when presented with at face value. Gay conversion camps were a serious problem that killed and affected many LGBTQ+ people, some of whom the trauma still harms to this day. But what better way to display and sort through complex trauma than by turning the joke onto the oppressors themselves? Queer cinema has come a long way from the heavily censored era of the Hays Code and, with the efforts of hard work from the queer community, has continued to grow and evolve.

Works Cited

But I’m a Cheerleader. Dir. Babbit, J. Act. Lyonne, N. DuVall, C. 1999, Lionsgate.

Mulvey, L. Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema, 1975.

Vaughn, S.. Morality and Entertainment: The Origins of the Motion Picture Production Code, 1990.

Roddy, M. Sapphic Cinema: An Exploration of Films about Gay Women and their Relationships to American Society in the Reagan Era and Beyond, 2018.

Sontag, S. Notes On “Camp”, 1964

Also special thanks to @schrodingerspsycho for reminding me to post this!!

#lesbian #but im a cheerleader #desert hearts #cinema #queer history #film history #film school #film student #film studies #essay #lesbian cinema #van palmer #tagging Van Palmer because she knows all about this shit lol

17 notes · View notes