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#I DUNNO IF IS RIGHT BUT I AM NOT CHECKING
gachaparadise · 4 months
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ahhh the Penacony leaks are really coming in now.
*chuckles* I'm in danger.
#i keep going back and forth about if i'm skipping Ratio. I was 100% going for him but now. looking at whats coming#I like Sunday and Robin and Boothill and Gallagher and Misha and Aventurine and DUKE INFERNO?!?#okay. i just saw that Aventurine might be sustain unit. i NEED one of those so bad.#my accounts gonna be completely fucked if i don't get a good support sometime soon. so like. that moves him WAY up my priorities list#and moves Ratio down :( still dunno exactly what he does waiting for official release to make final decisions#but. if he's really an imaginary dps. i might... *dies a little bit* skip him#i just!!! i have DH!!! i WANT to use DH! he's my favourite character in the damn game!#and >_> is Ratio going to have story relevance? i thought Argenti would get more then just a companion quest but he hasn't#and that kinda... bums me out? i like the meet a character THEN roll for them not the other way around. i like character who matter plotwis#A!NY!WAY! putting that aside. i might just go for the 50/50 and take what i get. just to smooth out my pity if nothing else#i don't have most of the standard pool so chances are *knocks on wood* i'll have something new to work with#and like we are getting an absolute BARRAGE of hard skip banners coming up after him.#i do not care for these women at all. extremely mid designs i SLEEP#(except for the judge she fucks but. jades are tight right now honey im sorry!!)#so. i've got a little but of time to save afterwards#post: misc#game: honkai sr#these tags are long and disjointed but its *checks clock* almost 2:30 am so. i'm a bit. you know.#i could save this draft for tomorrow and edit into something resembling a human's train of thought instead of word vomit but#i kinda wanna capture the moment. this is how i saw the leaks. the essence of desperation of a f2p. aahhh gacha my beloved.
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hylianengineer · 4 months
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WHAT is wrong with my mic this time, I swear to god, why does this always happen. Am I not loud enough? Do I need to be closer to it? It was like two inches from my mouth, how is that not close enough? I know it's working because I'm getting SOMETHING, but it's cutting out like every other line. Grrr.
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loregoddess · 29 days
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why does art have to be so art
#I really wanna draw Octopath fanart but something about the official art's style short-circuits my brain#like I sit down and start sketching and cannot figure out how to translate the style to my style#it's simultaneously more sketchy and more polished than my art style#so using it as a ref is Very Hard for me for whatever reason#this goes back to the first game where I wanted to draw all sorts of cool art and managed one (1) Ophilia#I keep telling myself if I get all the characters sketched in my style then I can just ref my own sketches instead of the official art#but hmm even something about how all the designs are is just. Tricky to get right#I dunno if it's just that I've spent years drawing FE fanart (and at one point did a fair amount of AA/DGS art)#that my brain wants to default to having that style be my base of reference but 'tis an interesting conundrum#I've drawn some TriStrat fanart too and had the same issue--the designs are just complex in a different way than FE complex to be difficult#actually I just went and checked and yeah I've drawn almost nothing but FE fanart for the past couple of years#I mean I've drawn plenty of original stuff too but that's significantly easier for me bc it's 100% me from start to finish; no translating#maybe I should make an effort to make fanart for other games....expand my range of base references#expand the art styles I am spending a fair amount of time looking at Very Closely#I was able to sketch some busts of some of the Octo2 characters and got Partitio to look how I wanted him to look#so that's a start at least#hopefully I can keep at it#oracle of lore
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universalcarnival · 5 months
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No. I wasn't playing games until 3am. You have no proof.
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osaemu · 4 months
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"YOU'RE PREGNANT?!" FT. GOJO SATORU
✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: gojo mistakes your period symptoms for signs of you being pregnant.
contents: fem!reader. mentions of pregnancy and periods (duh), gojo is an idiot (obviously), innocent miscommunication lol. gets pretty suggestive.
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just because satoru gojo's the strongest sorcerer on the planet, that doesn't mean he's the smartest one; especially when it comes to you.
not too long ago, you got your period, and the cramps have to be the most painful thing you've ever experienced. nestling yourself farther in between the couch cushions, you wrap your arms around your stomach and wince, eyebrows furrowing. somewhere in the background, you hear satoru enter your house and call for you, but your stomach hurts a little too much to allow you to do more than hum in response.
"baby?" satoru calls again, poking his head in the living room and smiling when he sees you. "hey, i'm hom— babe, you okay?"
you open one of your eyes (which was previously squeezed shut) and look at him, a soft whine slipping out from your lips when the pain in your stomach goes up a notch. "hey, 'toru," you mumble, watching him quickly plop down besides you on the couch. his eyes round in concern when he notices how tight your teeth are pressed against each other, and a moment later, satoru scoops you up and holds you in his lap.
"is.. this 'cause of last night?" satoru murmurs, stroking your hair as you squirm in his grip. his eyes are focused on your scrunched-up face as you fidget, struggling to find a comfortable position.
"i dunno," you mumble, assuming that satoru's referring to the way you scurried off into the bathroom the second you and satoru finished round after round in his sheets. funnily enough, your interpretation of the events is starkly different than satoru's.
you had immediately gone to the bathroom because you suspected that your period might've come, and you were right. but to satoru, he had something very different on his mind; especially since last night was the first time you two had fucked without protection.
satoru pauses before replying, face slowly tinting pink as his version of the events settles in. he had no idea your departure from his arms so soon after sex was because you just wanted to check for your period; on the contrary, he thought you ran into the bathroom to check if you were pregnant.
"are you—" he starts, dipping his chin and looking you straight in the eye. satoru's azure eyes carefully take in your expression, studying your features for a sign of what's to come.
you nod. "yeah, i am." on your period, that is.
satoru's eyes widen and the corners of his lips twitch with a smile. "is that why your stomach's hurting?" he whispers, and you hardly spare a thought as to why his reaction was nothing like what it usually was.
"duh," you huff, automatically assuming that he's talking about period cramps. "why else would my stomach be hurting?"
"holy shit, are you kidding?" satoru breathes, eyes lighting up like a child's would on christmas. you make a face, confusion evident all across your features.
"that's not the reaction i was expecting," you note tentatively. satoru's mouth falls open a little and after a moment, he immediately dips his head and kisses you, long and slow. his mouth tastes like spearmint (like always), and something about the way his lips melt into yours feels... different.
"is this better?" satoru whispers, smiling against your lips. you nod, carefully removing your arms from your torso and wrapping them around satoru instead. you nod hazily, more invested in the way satoru's mouth collides with yours than in anything else.
"much better."
"anythin' for my pretty girl," satoru murmurs, eyes softening every time they settle on your face. his hand trails down your waist and settles on your tummy, and he slips his hand underneath your t-shirt and rubs the skin with his thumb. a couple more seconds slip by in silence, with the only sound being the soft breaths you two take in between kisses.
when satoru finally tilts his head up and takes a longer breath, you both open your mouths to speak at once.
"i can't believe i'm gonna be a dad."
"my period cramps feel a lot better."
the two of you stare at each other in silence for a long, long second. you blink and ask, "what did you say?"
satoru tilts his head like a confused puppy, eyebrows lifting in uncertainty. "uh, what did you say?"
you look away, cheeks heating up as you mumble, "satoru, i'm not... pregnant...?" you stare at him blankly, matching the confused look on his face. "i'm on my period, baby. what did you—"
"oh, shit."
"yeah."
five awkward seconds go by until you clear your throat and smile up at him hesitantly. "i mean... d'you want a kid?"
satoru's face somehow goes even redder, which you didn't know was even possible. after a moment, he nods, and the subtle movement is enough for you to grab his face and pull him in to kiss you again; and you stay like that for the rest of the night.
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callyb510gee · 1 year
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oopy pls don’t look at tags
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msgexymunson · 4 months
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Benefits
Description: Your best friend Eddie starts to look very appealing to you, but if you suggest a dynamic change, will he go for it?
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, AFAB reader, weed smoking, virgin Eddie x virgin reader, grinding, fingering, fem oral receiving.
A/N: I just wanted to write a little goofy, not so confident Eddie and this poured out of my brain hole. Enjoy! Reblogs and comments keep me alive so please for the love of all that is smutty reblog if you enjoy it! 
5k words
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“All I'm saying is…” you take a big pull of the joint Eddie wiggles at you, his rough fingers brushing your lips. Your voice comes out croaky as hell when you speak, holding the smoke in, “...you can't do the voice.” 
The film plays quietly in the background as you both hang out on his couch, paying little attention to it. 
Eddie scoffs at you, taking the smoke back, and takes a big lug of it himself, hand coming to rest on your bare ankle that was thrown casually over his lap. 
“What you trying to say? You know I can do voices. I could totally do Vader.” 
Giggling, you wiggle your feet as he lightly drags his fingers over them. 
“Don't do that, you know it tickles!” 
Holding his hands up and away from you, you almost miss the contact. Which was insane. This is Eddie, for fucks sake. Your best friend. The asshole who made you nearly piss your pants in seventh grade from tickling too hard, who does stupid shit to get you to smile when you're sad. 
Recently though, the little lingering touches he gives you make your toes curl. Those glances that last a little too long for best friends, the drag of his hand on your back when you move through a crowd. It was crazy, but a part of you couldn't help but think he was feeling the same way. It wasn't like you were in love with the guy, at least not like that. He was almost family. Which made the feelings that you were having sinful in a way that made your thighs clench. 
The flirting didn't help. Eddie flirted as naturally as breathing. He was just so goddamn charming; he had chemistry with everyone. Which made it even more awkward. What if your salacious thoughts weren't reciprocated? Maybe it was just your raging hormones and you needed to keep them in check before you lose your best friend. 
“You're wrong you know.” 
Eddie's words bring you out of the daze you've been falling into; you blink at him, confused. 
“Huh?” 
Eddie rolls his eyes, and flashes you a smirk that does nothing to quench the fire inside, right when his large hands move to your waist and tickle you relentlessly. You're gasping giggles as he pins your hands over your head, full weight pressing into you. Somehow, he's got his narrow hips in between your thighs, which is definitely not helping the situation. 
“I can totally do the voice, see?” He drops it two octaves, letting a deep bass voice flow out of him, “Luke, I am your father.” 
Fuck, that shouldn't turn you on, but it did. That, and his forced proximity has you feeling uncomfortably wet. It's embarrassingly seeping into your panties; so much so that you cringe at your body's betrayal. 
He's just so damn close. So close, that you see something fluttering behind those brandy wine eyes of his. Or, was it merely your imagination?
Only one way to find out. 
Biting your lip, you flutter your eyelashes softly and speak in the sexiest voice you can.
“Does that mean I should call you Daddy?” 
Eddie's mouth drops open in a perfect O, eyebrows knitted. 
“You can't- you just- fuck!” 
He clambers off of you in an attempt to put some space between you, crossing his legs on the couch. Eddie looks flustered, cheeks burning red as he looks at you like you just grew an extra head. 
“I can't what, Eddie? Can't tease you like you tease me?” 
“Huh? I don't tease you! When did I-” 
“Oh, pinning me down don't count, huh?” 
Crossing your arms over your chest, you watch as he blows air out, grabbing a cushion and ramming it in his lap. 
“I didn't mean it like that, it's just, I dunno.” 
Looking down at his hands, he fiddles with his rings. The sheepishness he's showing is adorable, and so unlike him that it stops you in your tracks. Maybe you should just go easy on him, just a little. 
“Don't worry about it Eds, I'm just fucking around.” 
There's a bit of tension released from his shoulders, but he's still not looking at you. 
Fuck, you need another smoke. 
“You want me to roll?” 
“Hell no, I've seen you roll.” 
Scrunching your nose in fake anger, he laughs at you. 
“Look like a little chipmunk when you do that.” 
“All I hear is that you think I'm adorable.” You giggle as he mockingly rolls his eyes. 
“OK, you roll, I'll grab some sodas.” 
Getting up, you smooth your skirt down and walk over to the fridge. The cans are on the lower shelf, so you bend to grab two, making a mental note to tell Eddie to buy some more. 
When you look back, Eddie's slid to the floor, rolling paraphernalia spread out in front of him. It would be a normal scene, if he didn't still have the cushion wedged in his lap and his face wasn't glowing redder than your underwear. 
Underwear… underwear that he might have seen, since you just bent over. And the only reason why he'd keep that cushion in his lap is if he… 
Oh. 
Wordlessly, you put the soda next to his elbow and scoot up on the couch, entirely unsure about what you're supposed to do in a situation like this. The furthest you've ever gone is some over the clothes stuff. 
Plus, this is Eddie. Your stupid, asshole, mean, tormenting, breathtakingly gorgeous best friend. You curse, wriggling a little in your seat. Your panties are so damp they're practically glued to your privates, a heat emanating from you that's making your insides burn. 
“Milady.” 
Eddie holds the joint to you, perfectly rolled and more surprisingly, unlit.
“Eddie, you always take the first toke. Rollers rights, remember?” 
He shrugs and passes it anyway, giving you the lighter too, as he lifts himself onto the couch with both hands, letting his cushion shield drop briefly. Long enough to see the tightness in the crotch of his pants. 
Now the feel of your slick is dampening your thighs. Pushing them together as tight as you can, willing the feeling to dissipate, you light it with trembling hands. One puff, two puffs, pass. As his fingers graze yours, he looks at you appraisingly.
“You alright there sweetheart? Not comfy?” 
Nothings gonna happen if you just sit here and whine like a bitch in your head. Take the leap. 
“It's a little, er, embarrassing.” 
Knees squeezing together so hard it's bordering on painful, you look up at him through your lashes. Eddie's eyes are wide and warm, a light smile wrinkling them at the corners softly. 
“It's only me, come on. You can tell me anything.”
Huffing and wriggling some more, you watch him inhale smoke, and blow it out, a slight pout to his mouth that makes you want to pepper it with soft kisses. Then hard kisses. Then, other stuff. Fuck. 
“It's not- we don't, talk about this kinda stuff. I don't wanna… cross a line, you know?”
“Hey, it's alright.” His thick fingers shakily touch your knee, thumb rubbing back and forth. You're not sure if it calms you or makes you worse. It could be both. 
“Fine. Just, don't look at me when I tell you this, ‘kay?” 
There's a little laugh from him, then he rests his head on the back of the couch, eyes staring resolutely to the ceiling. 
“Alright weirdo I'm not looking. Shoot.” 
Tightening your knuckles, your face creases with the effort as you let fly the words that may well end your friendship. 
“I'm uncomfortable, I'm just- fuck, I'm really wet, OK?”
Of all the things you could say, you know Eddie was not expecting you to say that. Especially when he blushes profusely and his grip tightens hard on the cushion in his lap. True to his word, his gaze is directed firmly on the ceiling. 
“That's really-” His voice is broken; squeaky and boyish. He coughs and it comes out much lower, almost comically so. “That's, er, interesting.” 
You can't help it. A crazy laugh shoots out of your throat. An insane laugh. A mental institution laugh. It seems fitting for the situation. Here you are, on Eddie fucking Munson’s couch, telling him how wet you are? You've finally lost it. 
He laughs with you, helping to diffuse some of the awkward energy filling the room.
“Sorry Eddie. It just feels a bit, surreal, you know?” 
Eddie risks a look at you when he hands the joint back. You both stare at each other, each wishing to read the other's mind. 
Remember who you're talking to. This is Eddie. You can talk to him about anything. 
“Listen, Eddie, this is way out of fucking left field but I'm gonna say it. Have you like, done stuff, before?” 
Taking the biggest inhale you can risk without swallowing the roach, you pass the smoke back. There's a very slight shake to Eddie's hand. For some reason it gives you a bit more confidence. His voice wobbles more dramatically than you've ever heard.
“You mean like, sexual, stuff?” 
He finishes the smoke and stubs it out, glancing at you. There's a heat in his eyes that you're not used to seeing. 
“Y-yeah, I mean, honest truth? I've only done over the clothes stuff. Nothing more than that. And you?” 
Eddie coughs, puffing his chest out a little in full man-mode.
“I mean, yeah sure, a bit more than that, you know.” 
You do know. You know by the way he worded that, he's at least not gotten past third base. 
“You're a virgin too then.” 
“Hey!” He huffs, turning to you, “I'm like, way less of a virgin than you are!” 
You laugh loudly, knocking his arm with your fist. 
“Doesn't make you less of a virgin, you idiot.” 
He laughs, shaking his head. 
“Suppose you're right. Some hook-ups ‘round the back of The Hideout don't count for much.”
Reaching for his hand, you brush his knuckles with tentative fingers. 
“Eddie, what I'm trying to say is, well maybe- we could help each other out? I'm a bit… frustrated, and so are you. You know?” 
He squirms a little, recoiling from your touch. 
“What makes you think I'm frustrated?” 
“Eddie, I'm not a fucking idiot. I know why you're grabbing that cushion.” 
He laughs, his special fake laugh he reserves for awkward occasions. That is, until you grab the cushion from his lap and throw it across the room.
He's hard, almost painfully so. It's pressing against his zipper in such a way that you know it must be uncomfortable. You take in a harsh breath as you look at his face. So many emotions seem to be fighting for dominance. Clear arousal, some confusion, a little bit of pity, maybe? Which is the last thing you want to see.
Maybe you were wrong.
“I'm saying that we can help each other. I'm attracted to you. I'm not declaring my love for you or anything. It's not like, some crazy confession. I'm just saying we could… relieve each other.”
“Oh.” His whole demeanour has shifted at your words, “so you don't like, love me, or anything?” 
“Eddie, you are so fucking stupid. Of course I love you, you're my best friend. Just not like that. I mean, I kinda want you to… touch me places, don't mean I want your hand in marriage!” 
His chuckle rings against the tinny walls of the trailer. Then, he looks at you, really looks at you. Biting his lip, he walks his hands toward you, stopping just shy of your constricted knees. 
“Glad you said that. I didn't know how to say that I kinda… well, that I like you, that way, but not like… man, you said it better.” 
And just like that, your Eddie was back. It wasn't weird, far from it. After the way you'd been acting around each other for years, it just made sense. 
You both smile at each other. A genuine, familiar smile. One that hurts your cheeks, that makes your chest fill with warmth. 
“I know this is like, super weird, but it might help, you know?” 
Eddie crawls further towards you, palms splayed on your knees. The simple touch has you quivering. 
“What if it's too weird? I don't want this to ruin our friendship.” 
You smile softly, and unclench your thighs slightly, knees spreading. Enough to make his eyes dart down to your core and back up, laced with want. 
“Tell you what Eds. Kiss me.” 
“And how is that gonna help?”
You laugh, beckoning him forwards. As if on a string, he leans toward you, his rough hands grazing the tops of your thighs. You try to disguise the gasp it elicits from you, but it doesn't seem necessary. Eddie's breathing hard, hard enough to hide any impromptu noises from you. 
“Just kiss me Eddie. If it's weird and gross, we'll laugh about it. If it's, erm, better than that… well, then we can maybe take it a little further.”
Eddie leans in more, hovering over you as your head rests naturally into the armrest. But he stops, inches from your face, hesitating. 
“I don't- shit, I don't know what to do!” 
Laughing loud, you reach out and twirl a section of his hair in your soft hands, adding definition to a curl. 
“Just, use a move on me. You know? Like I'm one of those girls at The Hideout. Come on.” 
He laughs, knuckles dragging over your cheek. 
“That's… this isn't the same. You're not like that ” 
“Fine, just- come on to me. Hit me with your best shot. Just, I dunno, just-”
The rest of your sentence dies on your tongue as he cradles your jaw and presses his full lips softly to yours. You don't know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. He holds your face almost delicately, tongue lapping gently at your lip until you allow him to slip it inside. 
It's a slow, deliberate thing, as if he's mapping out your mouth in case you never agree to do this again. Not that that's a danger to you. His tongue is burning hot; a slippery warm need, igniting the fire that was already smouldering within you. 
His form relaxes slightly, allowing his weight to drop. His chest falls onto yours, no doubt telling him of the heaving gasps you're taking. You couldn't find it in you to mind, not whilst he's prising your legs open with one knee, his thigh pressing against just where you need it most. 
A moan races out of your mouth and into his, muffled into his chasing tongue. The warmth between your legs is just getting worse, stoked by the pressure of his searching knee. Suddenly there's tension exactly where you need it, the coarse denim of his thigh rubbing hard against your throbbing nub. 
“Eddie, fuck!”
He smiles into your mouth as he pushes his leg harder, groans overtaking his mouth as you use it to chase your pleasure. 
His perfect mouth traces down your jaw, nipping and sucking at your flesh. His thick tongue lathing over your taut muscles, your tiny fingers grasping onto his arms almost pathetically. 
When he breaks away to look at you, eyes searching for doubts, you can't help but think how beautiful he looks. His hair's a little messier than usual, cheeks flushed pink, and those full lips look even plumper than before. 
“Sorry, should have checked in. Was that, alright? Not too weird?” 
You try to slow your breathing, but it's no use. It usually takes you a while to get there on your own, but you were so close to coming on Eddie's leg after a couple of minutes of making out it was almost shameful. 
“I'll say, jeez. I nearly- er, got carried away.” 
“Really?” Eddie's eyes seem to brighten as the corners of his mouth twitch up into a cheeky grin. 
“Don't let that get to your head! I'm just really… needy right now.” 
“Fuck,” he replies, adjusting his bulge, “right, carried away, you say?”
Before you can process what he's said he leaps up, grabs you by the waist and throws you over his shoulder. Your giggling squeals echo through the trailer, ringing out like the peals of a bell as he barges into his room and throws you on the bed. Laughing and red faced, with your skirt rucked up around your hips and your arms flung above your head, you notice Eddie's gaze shamelessly skimming to your panties. 
Shaking out of his bare faced revelry he jumps onto the bed next to you, eager as a kid at Christmas. He's on his side, a large hand roaming over your stomach, across your waist, down to your hips and skimming just under your thin sweater. 
“You want me to take this off?” You ask, tugging at the hem. 
“Oh, er- yeah, I-I mean if you- do you want to take it off?” 
Eddie bumbles through his words as you giggle at him, his usual confident demeanour evaporated at the thought of your body. 
“Eddie you dingus, you've literally seen me in my underwear before!” 
“Well, yeah… but that was before you, er, filled out.” 
It was a long time ago. A hot Summer spent running around the trailer park hitting each other with water balloons. You'd almost forgotten how far back it was.
“You don't have to be scared of my boobs ya know.” 
Eddie scoffs, hitting you playfully with a flick of his finger on the tip of your nose. You grab it, trying to bite it but he's pulling it away and you follow. It turns into yet another wrestling match as laughter rings from the pair of you. He tries to hold his hand up high but then you straddle him. 
Suddenly, his arm goes limp and you pull the offending digit into your mouth triumphantly, nibbling softly. It's then you realise you're straddling his stomach and he's completely lost, staring at the way your skirt is wrinkled. 
Play fight discarded, you shimmy down his body and revel in the little shaking breath Eddie makes as you sit gently on his crotch, the hardened bulge pressing into your clothed heat. 
“Fuck, you're so warm.” 
You blush as his fingers dig into your hips as if afraid you'll disappear. 
“You can feel that, through your jeans?” 
He chuckles low in his throat and the sound travels straight to your tummy, letting loose a cascade of butterflies. 
“Feel it? It's like a freaking furnace. Bet it'll feel amazing inside you.” 
It's just Eddie, running his mouth; in fact it seems he didn't mean to say that out loud judging by the look on his face. He always has an issue separating outside thoughts and inside thoughts. It was so casually spoken though, you don't think he realised just how dirty it sounded. 
Your fingers smooth up his stomach, feeling the muscles tense under the contact, pulling his shirt up with them. 
“Really hot when you say stuff like that.” 
You're embarrassed admitting it, but you're so turned on that he needs to know how much his words affect you. Mostly so he'll keep using them.
“Yeah?” 
“Hmm.” 
You're dragging nails over his abdomen, tugging his t-shirt higher and higher. He doesn't seem to mind, firm hands pulling your hips slowly back and forth. So you take a shot, and yank it up high. He gets the message, lifting his arms over his head so you can fling it off and away. 
There's no subtlety to the way he pulls at your top, sitting up to wrench it off you. He's panting, eyes raking over your red cotton bra as if you were in the finest lingerie. Then your lips crash together, desperately exploring each other's mouths, teeth clashing in urgency. You collapse on top of him as he holds your hip with one hand, guiding you over his hardness as the other palms your breast over your bra. 
That feeling is back, the burning tingling mass of arousal clutching your insides, growing and growing quicker than ever. You rut against him, each pass sending a zip of sensation all the way from your clit to the tips of your toes. 
Moaning in his mouth, you break away and he nips at your neck, rough fingers snaking into your bra to clumsily rub your nipple. You cling to his waist tightly as the feeling mounts, and mounts, and finally- 
“Eddie! Oh- oh fuckin’ hell!” 
It happens. The thing that had never happened to you outside of your own late night desperate fumblings. It flows like liquid fire through your veins, buzzing across your skin in a wild burning sensation that takes you utterly by surprise. Your sounds are feral; incoherent and needy, as your thighs grasp him firmly as if in fear of him moving away. 
After a loaded silence, whilst you both breathe, and breathe, you finally unclasp your legs around him, falling to the side in an ungainly heap of arms and legs.  
“Well. Holy fucking shit.” you laugh nervously, legs shaking with the after effects.
“So, not too weird?” He smiles, taking the opportunity to get on top of you, arms either side of your head. 
“It's a little weird. Only ever, you know, came, on my own, so yeah.” 
“Yeah?” The cocky look is back, a hand trailing down your shoulder to rest on your breast. 
“Can I take this off, please?” 
You smile and lift your back up so he can slide his hand behind you, fumbling around to try and get the clasp, swearing under his breath. 
“I don't know, can you?” You question, stifling giggles. 
“You could just help me, you know, you-you devil woman- Oh wait I did it!” 
The clasp springs free and Eddie's proud smile nearly splits his face apart as he eagerly pulls down the straps. 
“You're such a goofball.”
“You've got amazing tits, Jesus Christ.” 
Heat flushes your chest and before you can retort he's kneeling between your legs, hot mouth sucking roughly on a nipple. Words fail you, your body the only thing talking as you arch your back and push toward his greedy lips. Letting go with a loud pop, he sucks a hickey right in the middle of your sternum, running his thumb over the wet mark after. 
“I wanna go down on you.” He blurts it out, spill words tugging out of his lips before he can stop them. 
“You wanna what?” You respond, dazed as he looks up at you, eyes full of fire. 
“I wanna use my mouth on you. Down here.” 
He drags his fingers low, pressing one just to the top of your mound. 
“You really want to?” As far as you're aware, that's not a thing guys tend to want to do. At least that's what you've heard. Eddie seems to be an exception. 
“More than anything.” He's brutally honest, eyes wide and begging. 
“I mean, if you want to, sure.” 
“OK, shit, just wait a sec.” 
Getting up so fast it must make his head spin, he unbuttons his jeans and wrestles them down his legs, tossing them away. The tent in his boxers makes your eyes widen.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he climbs back on the bed. 
“Sorry, just so fuckin’ hard it hurts.” 
Nothing can stop the whimper that shoots out of your mouth at his words. Again, he's just being honest, but he doesn't seem to understand how sexy it is. 
Moving to unzip your skirt, he bats your hand away to do it himself. Before he pulls it off, he looks at you nervously. 
“Just, let me know if you don't like something. Or if you do. I've er, I've not done this before so lower your expectations.” He laughs it out, embarrassment coating each word. 
“I thought you had a bunch of hook ups at The Hideout?” You tease, smirking at him. 
“Right, full disclosure, I've erm, used my fingers before, a few times. And once- once some girl tried to give me head and I busted in like three seconds, OK?” 
He grabs a bunch of his hair and hides behind it while you chuckle. 
“Eddie, it's fine, I'm glad you told me. It's just me. I'm not gonna judge you, you know that.” 
“Yeah, of course.” The breath he lets out is loud, tension melting from his body, and he bends to pull your skirt down and off. Your panties are next; they cling to your core so much it makes you cringe, but he doesn't seem to mind. 
“Can you, spread your legs a little sweetheart?” His voice is husky, eyes staring straight at your pussy. Feeling exposed, you do as he asks, fighting the urge to pull away from his gaze. 
“Look at you. Beautiful.” 
Smiling at his words, it turns into an open mouthed gasp as he strokes his fingers softly through your folds. 
“Fuck me, you're soaked.” 
Then his tongue is slipping across you, feeling tentatively as he keeps your legs wide with his rough palms. It's different; wet and messy, but it's incredible. The pleasure increases tenfold as his wandering mouth finds your clit. 
“Eddie, right there, right there!” 
He groans, pushing his face into you so hard you can feel the vibrations from the noise. He's moving his tongue up and around it, making an absolute mess of spit and slick over you. Suddenly he tries sucking and your back leaves the bed, hands coming to clutch at his hair. 
“Oh my God, do that again, please please, oh fuck!” 
He does it again, and again, smoothing each suckle with a flat lick from his tongue. Fingers graze your hole suddenly, making you jump. As you look down you see Eddie's entirely consumed by what he's doing, rutting himself into the mattress like an animal. One finger breaches you, feeling around, pumping slowly in and out. It's good, but it's not great. 
You feel ashamed even trying to guide him but you attempt to shake it off. 
“Eddie?” 
“Hmm?” He looks up, an almost dazed expression in his eyes. 
“Can you- can you curl your finger upward?” 
“Like this?” 
Your reaction is instantaneous, hips rucking up to his touch. 
“Fuuuck.” 
“Yeah? That good, sweetheart?” 
That smugness is back but it isn't in you to care. There's no words, just little whimpers and moans as you grab him by the hair and push his mouth back where you need it. 
When he adds another finger, you're gone. Your walls are clenching around him, sucking him in as the feeling of his thick digits stretching you fills your entire being. Dots dance in your vision as your whole body feels fuzzy, tingles whispering over your skin. You cry out as the feeling escalates, bubbling through you until you can't see, can't think, clawing at Eddie's head until you reach an impossible precipice. Then, it explodes, showering you in waves, over and over. 
“Oh my God that was amazing, fuck Eddie, you're incredible, I never came that hard in all my life, Jesus Christ!” 
You're babbling, you know, bubbles of platitudes popping out of your mouth in almost nonsensical sounds as your legs twitch like crazy. 
Eddie scoots up a little, face pressed into the plush of your stomach. He mumbles something incomprehensible. Leaning up on your elbows, you pull his hair a little making him look at you. 
“You alright there? What'd you say?” 
Eddie laughs, kissing your tummy, face flushed pink. 
“I said I fuckin’ came in my pants.” 
Then he hides again, as if your skin can cover his embarrassment. 
“Eddie, come here you dope.” 
He climbs up you, leaning on quivering arms. The front of his boxers pushes on your sticky core. 
“Don't worry about it, that's kinda hot.” 
“Yeah? You're hot. That was, wow. I think I found my favourite place.” 
You giggle, pressing kisses to his lips. There's still traces of you on him but you don't care. 
“Can you tell me what you said again?” He asks, grin fighting to envelop his whole face. 
“Huh?” 
“You know, how I'm the most incredible lover in existence.” Waggling his eyebrows at you, he strokes a wayward hair off of your sweaty forehead. 
“I did not say that!” 
“I'm paraphrasing, it was pretty close.” 
You hit him on the chest playfully and he falls to the side in a terrible act of mock pain. Crawling on top of him, you continue to smack him, fake punches thrown at his ribs. 
“OK, you win, I cannot best you!” 
Grabbing your hand, he kisses your knuckles and you melt against him, pressing soft kisses to his mouth. They turn harder, tongues massaging each other as he runs his hands down your back. 
You break away to plant a single kiss to the tip of his nose. 
“Maybe in a bit, you know, when you've… recovered…” 
Dragging your nails down his lean chest you look up at him, biting your lip. 
“We can… go all the way?” 
Eddie's face lights up. He grabs you and flings you down so he's on top, kissing your neck and jaw sloppily as you squeal at the sudden onslaught. 
“Yes, fuck yes, gimme like two minutes, five tops.” 
Taglist (if you want to be added please send me a PM so I don't lose the request, thank you)
@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n
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jazzyoranges · 6 months
Text
Harleys in Hawaii
Tara Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: you’re Tara’s older girlfriend
Words: 4.5k
A/n: listen to harleys in hawaii
Warnings: i didn’t feel like editing or spell checking sorry bout that 💀, age gap (Tara is 22/23, you’re 27), drinking, kissing, fade to black sex, R is implied to dress more masculine, also Scream 6 doesn’t exist cause Anika is alive 😇
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Tara has gone through 3 girlfriends and 5 boyfriends in the span of 5 months. Currently, she’s having an intervention on how and why. Well, the core four’s version of an intervention at least
“Dude, you have to teach me how to get a girlfriend” Chad begs, and Mindy laughs
“Why am I even here? You guys suck at interventions. If anything, this is the opposite of one”
This time, her sister chimes in. “We’re here because you’ve been going through partners like pairs of clothes. Why are you dating all these people?”
“I don’t know!” Tara groans “In the beginning it’s to be fun dating someone, but after a week it feels like a chore”
“Wow, never knew you of all people would have the same mindset of a frat boy” This earns Mindy a slap on her shoulder from Anika, who was cuddled into her
“Shut up Mindy.” the younger Carpenter spits out
“So you date people and drop them ‘cause they don’t give you the thrill of being in a relationship?” Chad says and everyone in the room goes silent. Momentarily, he stops throwing his tennis ball up in the air
“…Did I say something wrong?”
“Never knew you could be smart, Chad”
“Sometimes I wish we weren’t related.”
“Is that it, Tara?” Sam asks “You just want the thrill of dating?”
“When you put it that way, I guess? I dunno, I haven’t really met anyone exciting. You’d think there’d be fun people in New York”
“You just haven’t met the right person, Tara. I’m sure there’s someone for you, you just suck at looking”
“Oh, really? Where am I supposed to look, then?”
“I dunno, definitely not where you’re looking right now” Mindy shrugs, and Tara sighs at how helpful her friends are
You meet you coworker’s sister when her and her friends decide to have a study session at the small coffee shop you and Sam work at. You and the older Carpenter instantly clicked as friends. Sam knew you knew about the Woodsboro killings, but you knew not to trust the media entirely. After a few weeks of talking to her, you didn’t understand how Sam could be accused of such disgusting things
Your friendship solidified when you ‘accidentally’ spilled an ice cream sundae on some girl who was being mean to her. Of course you were fired the next day, but Sam left with you, opting to work at a smaller coffee shop run by a nice old man and his lovely wife
Sam considered you a good friend, and she trusted you with being around her sister. Luckily the old couple who ran the shop were kind and trusting, and let Sam’s sister and friends use the coffee shop after hours for late-night studying. It was maybe about 6:30pm when the shop officially closed, and the study session started. Sam insisted she stay by herself, but you didn’t want her to be lonely while watching her kids friends study
Personally, you thought it was far too late to study, but you also hadn’t been to school in 3 years. Soft music was playing while the group studied and you and Sam cleaned up the shop here and there
Tara tried to focus on her work, she really did. After a few glances in your direction and many “sorry, what did you say?”’s later, Mindy finally decided to comment on Tara’s behavior. I mean, could she really be mad? You were breathtaking. Your shirt hugged your arms and torso just the right way, you hand a very pretty face, most of all, you were-
“Alright, what’s up with you? You’ve been distracted this entire time”
“I’m not distracted, I’m listening” Tara lied straight through her teeth, and Mindy just looked at her in suspicion
“You’ve seemed out of it this entire study session, you okay?” Anika reached to rub Tara’s shoulder
“Uh, y-yeah” Tara turned around in her seat looking for you. When she saw you were either in the break room or the bathroom, Tara leaned in closer to the group and so did her friends
“Sam’s friend is really hot.”
“Understandable” Chad nods
“Definitely ask her out”
“Like hell I am, Mindy!” Tara whisper-shouts
You’re about to leave for the night. Gathering your jacket, helmet, and keys from your locker, you barely make it out of the break room before one of Sam’s friends calls you over
“Hey, Sam’s coworker! Are you good at algebra?
“A little above average, why do you ask? You walk over to the booth they’re studying at. You miss the glare the brunette gives to her friend
Mindy motions to Tara “My friend over here is having a little trouble, and we’re all not really good at explaining. Could you help her?”
“Also,” the twin points at each of her friends “Anika, Chad, Tara, and I’m Mindy”
You pull up a chair to sit next to Tara “Y/N, nice to meet all of you. Sam says lots of good things”
“Likewise, Sam told us about what you did for her. We all appreciate it” Anika smiles
“Those girls were assholes,” you shrug “they deserved it.” Now focusing on Tara, you met her eyes while the rest of the group fell into discussion
“So, what exactly do you need help with?”
Tara tries to listen to what you’re saying, but everything is going in one ear and out the other with your proximity to her. You make simple small talk with Tara, and she notes how the corners of your eyes crinkle when you laugh. The brunette learns you’re about the same age as her sister, you have a second job as a mechanic, and you owned a motorcycle (in which her interest was immediately peaked).
A few hours of conversation and studying later, the group decides they’re finished. They pile into Sam’s car to be dropped off at their respective apartments. Unfortunately due to a little clutter, there isn’t enough room for Tara in the car (which is surprising since she’s incredibly small, but you decide to hold your tongue this time)
“Cmon, guys, can’t you make some room?” the brunette groans
“You could ride with Y/n,” Sam suggests “I trust her to get you home”
“Yeah, I got an extra helmet in my locker, I’ll go get it” You jog back to the shop, and you’re back a minute later with a helmet in one hand, and a hoodie in the other. Your hoodie, Tara thinks
“Here, it gets cold. Is this your first time?”
“Yeah, I’ve never been on a motorcycle before…” Tara says nervously, and she has to stop herself from taking a big whiff of your hoodie around her
“No worries! If you get scared just squeeze my thigh and I’ll pull over, okay? Also, make sure to hold on tight” You put the helmet on Tara, inspecting her to make sure it’s on correctly
“Geez, it feels like I’m an astronaut” Tara laughs, flipping up the visor
“Doesn’t it? I always feel like a bobble head or something when I’m in it” You teach Tara how to get on, and soon enough you’re on the road following Sam’s car
Tara’s arms were snugly wrapped around your torso, and she was absolutely having the time of her life. The helmet she was wearing smelled like you and it was absolutely intoxicating. Not to mention how your hoodie sat comfortably on her body — almost like it was meant for her to wear. Deciding to be bold, Tara decides to hug you tighter
When you two eventually stop at a stoplight, you hold out a thumbs up, questioning if Tara is comfortable. The brunette responds with a thumbs up of her own, and the slow circles she’s making with her thumb under your shirt that leave a trail of goosebumps behind
First Sam stops at Mindy and Anika’s, then Chads. Since there’s more room in the car Tara doesn’t actually need to stay with you, but she’s practically glued to your back. The brunette decides to be greedy and hold on
A few minutes later, you two reach Tara and Sam’s apartment complex. When you come to a stop the younger Carpenter gets off first, and you follow after
“So, how was your first time on a motorcycle? Scary?”
“Honestly? Not really. I trust you won’t crash, or else Sam’ll get real mad at you” Taking off her helmet, you get the pleasure of seeing Tara smile again. She starts to take off your hoodie, but you stop her before she does
“Keep it, I already have a bunch of other hoodies and jackets at my place”
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t be saying it if I wasn’t sure, Carpenter”
“You’re an ass” Tara rolls her eyes and playfully hits your arm
“Nice meeting you and your friends, by the way. I’ll see you guys around” After you wave bye and hop back on your motorcycle Tara watches you leave, pulling your hoodie closer to her body
Study sessions at the coffee shop after closing time became more and more regular. Sometimes it’s just Sam closing up, and other times it’s just you. Tara still regrets telling the group about her very tiny minuscule crush on you, since you’re now used as blackmail to get Tara to go anywhere
“Wanna go to the movies?”
“Sorry, I have to finish an essay”
“Y/n’s gonna be there” Mindy says in a sing-song tone
“Fuck you.” Tara groans before grabbing her jacket, fully expecting to be invited for a motorcycle ride from you
At first Tara only saw you during study sessions at the coffee shop. It was the same story almost every time. There wouldn’t be enough room in Sam’s car, you’d drive Tara home, and if she was lucky you’d stop at a 7 Eleven for slushees and a snack
When Sam invites you to a game night with the group, you happily accept the invitation. With a bottle of wine in your left hand, you make some final adjustments to your outfit before knocking. Smoothing out your shirt, you hear a familiar voice behind the door
“So, are you gonna stand there or are you going to knock?” The younger Carpenter teases, and she can practically hear you roll your eyes when you scoff
“I was making myself presentable” You shrug, hearing the click of the door as Tara opens it
“Whatever,” The shorter girl laughs “You’re kinda early so you can wait on the couch or something” She takes the bottle of wine from your hands, setting down on a table
“Geez, don’t people have manners nowadays? I thought it was a given to arrive early”
“I think that’s just you being old”
“You’re mean.” Tara’s face collides with a pillow as she turns around and the brunette can faintly hear you say ‘headshot!’ in an excited voice
“Me? Mean? You just assaulted me!”
“You’ll live. Mario Kart?” You wave a second controller in her direction with the game already booted up, and Tara takes her seat next to you on the floor
The next few minutes are spent casually trash-talking each other. When you get particularly close to winning Tara shoves you to the floor, causing you to lose. A smug grin adorns her face when you throw another pillow at her
“Stop throwing pillows at me!” Tara laughs
“You quite literally shoved me to the floor ‘cause you’re not as good as me”
“Shut up, you’ve have more experience”
“Are you calling me old again?” You say in a dramatic tone, and the door rings a whole 20 minutes after the rest of the group is supposed to show up. Sam lets them in, and you wave hello. Mindy gives Tara a look you don’t recognize, but Chad quickly challenges you to another game of Mario Kart
The twin tried his best, he really did. He took the shortcuts, chose the best character, and even optimized his power-ups. But alas, his efforts were rendered useless as you casually mopped the floor with his ass. The scoreboard with your name at the top is enough for Chad to groan in defeat
“Dude, how are you so good?”
“I guess I just have more experience”
“So you can say it but I can’t?” You end up sticking your tongue out at Tara like a child
“Whatever. You guys got any other games?”
“We have Uno” Sam suggests
Oh how foolish she was.
Arguing, wine, and lots of popcorn later, you’re currently in a battle for 4th place with Tara. Fifteen minutes after Chad won 3rd, both of you insisted a 4th place winner. When you put down a plus four twice in a row, the group only groans
“Please are you two almost done?”
“It’s Uno. How about we play another game?” Chad pleads
“Absolutely not. I refuse to lose to a girl that’s basically half my height.”
“Half your height!? You’ll probably be balding by 30!���
“You take that back!” You slam a hand against the table, and your friends can’t tell if they should intervene or watch the argument play out. They choose the latter
Shallow insults are exchanged between you two and the rest of the group finally understands both of you aren’t serious. They decide to leave you two to pick up some pizza, and you’re far too busy arguing how you’re not going to go bald at 30. Really, whose idea was it to give the most competitive people copious amounts of wine?
Eventually your arguing dies down, leaving you both giggling like middle school kids when they see their crush. The absurdity of the situation paired with the wine you both drank made a very fun combo
“Sorry I said you’d bald by 30” Tara leans onto your shoulder and you lay your head atop hers
“It’s okay. Sorry I said you were half my height… even if it’s true” You smile and Tara hits your arm while suppressing a grin
“You mind if I sleep here tonight? Pretty sure I can’t drive my baby in this state”
“Your baby?”
“My motorcycle. Her name is Elizabeth” You nudge her shoulder
“You named your motorcycle?
“It’s how you create attachment, Tara. You name everything so you care more about it”
“God, you’re a weirdo.” The younger Carpenter leans into you even further
“You never answered my question”
“Hmm… I think Sam wouldn’t mind”
“But would you mind?”
“No, you’re my friend”
A comfortable silence passes between you two. Tara, half asleep on your shoulder; and you, trying to formulate a plan to get Tara in her bed. The only good idea you’ve thought of is carrying her, so that’s what you decide to do
Tara makes a sound then holds onto your shirt as you scoop her up from the couch. There’s a feeling in her stomach she can’t quite place when your arms wrap around her. You’re warm, and Tara only wants to get closer to your body heat
“Tara, honey, where’s your room?” You whisper. The pet name accidentally slips, and you hope the younger girl doesn’t notice.
Oh but she does
Tara notices and opts to bury her head in you chest, pointing in the direction of her room. She can feel her face warm up immediately
You open up the door all the way with your foot, and lay Tara down in her bed. You’re about to leave to probably sleep on the couch, but you feel a hand around your wrist and Tara mumble something sleepily
“You alright, Tar?” You bend down
“Please stay… don’t go.” The younger Carpenter whispers, and you wouldn’t be able to hear her if not your close proximity
“I’ll be in the living room, don’t worry. I don’t drink and drive”
“No, I mean stay here.”
“You… You want me to stay in your room?”
Tara nods.
“I- I don’t know, Tara.” You were hesitant to accept her invitation.
“I won’t be far, I promise”
“I don’t care you’re older than me.”
“W-What?”
“Please, you make me so happy. People my age are so dull…” Tara takes your hand in her own, playing with your fingers
“You don’t mean that, Tar. You’re drunk and tired. How about you get some sleep, hm?” You say in the softest voice you can manage, pushing away the thoughts of how badly you just want to hold Tara in your arms again
“Y/n…” Something in you shifts when the brunette says your name in her sleep-drunk state. You notice the pleading look in her eyes, and it’s difficult to imagine saying no to her
“I can’t say no to you.” You sigh, taking off your jacket before getting in bed. Tara immediately curls up against your chest like it’s the most natural thing ever and you wrap your arms around her waist like it’s second nature
“Thank you. I really like you, Y/n”
“If you end up regretting this I’ll pretend like nothing’s happened if you want”
“No!” Both you and Tara are surprised by her tone
“I- I mean no. I promise I won’t regret this. Regret… you.” She says in a smaller voice
“Do you like me too?” Tara looks up at you with hope in her eyes and your heart melts at the sight
“I don’t know, Tara. Part of me thinks this is wrong, and the other part just wants to spend time with you.”
“Ever since… Amber, you’ve helped me move on” This was the most Tara has opened up about her late girlfriend. Of course the group told you a few tiny things about her here and there, but you hadn’t heard from Tara straight up. You knew this was a very hard and difficult subject even as time continued to pas
“You don’t need to feel like you have to tell me about her, Tara. How about we sleep? You’ll have a clearer mind tomorrow” Pressing a kiss against her forehead, your girlfriend(?) smiles
“…can I wear your shirt?”
“I’m right here, you know”
“I wanna be closer to you”
“Go actually get ready for bed, Tara. I know you don’t wanna sleep with makeup on” The brunette gets up to leave but decides to double back and give you a kiss on the cheek, leaving you a subtle lipstick mark
You hate how she makes you all giddy like a teenager in love.
Getting up to ask Tara if she has an oversized hoodie you could sleep in, you’re caught in the hallway by Sam. You only notice how bad it looks you’re walking out Tara’s room with messy hair, ruffled clothes, and a noticeable kiss on your cheek. You’re quick to wipe it off and smooth out your hair a second later
“Sam, it’s not what it looks like.” You say quickly
“I dunno, it really looks like you’re fucking my sister”
“I-It’s not like that! She- I uh-“
“Listen, I don’t mind you’re dating my sister. Would’ve wished you told me, though”
“That’s the thing! I have no idea what we are” You look behind to look for Tara before turning back to Sam
“She said she really liked me, but then she’s also drunk, but then she also kissed me. What if she doesn’t actually mean it? What if she regrets this? What if-” You’re talking quickly and about to start pacing around before Sam grounds you by holding onto your shoulders
“I trust you, Y/n. You’re my friend. I trust you’ll take good care of my sister”
The older Carpenter gives you a quick hug before leaving to her own room, leaving you staring at nothing as the door to the bathroom clicks open
“Y/n? You alright?” Tara pulls you into a hug, shoving her face in your neck
“Y-Yeah, do you have a hoodie I could sleep in?”
“Mmm… I think I have one in your size” The shorter girl leads you to her closet. A few seconds of searching lands you a hoodie with an album cover you don’t recognize. Tara notices your confusion
“Tyler the creator”
“Is he any good?”
“Well duh, I wouldn’t have him on a hoodie if he wasn’t”
“Okay smart ass, no need to be mean” You feign annoyance and the brunette can only roll her eyes and drag you into bed for the second time this night
Both of you get into position again. Tara’s arms securely wrapped around your torso, and your arms that bring her closer to your neck. You decide it isn’t so bad you’re in love with Tara Carpenter
You and Sam meet the rest of the group at their college. The lovely older couple that ran the coffee shop insisted you two spent time with Tara. They may as well be your parents with how much they treat you and Sam like their own kin. With the rest of the day to spoil Tara, you happily jump onto her with open arms while spewing a slew of praises and compliments
Your girlfriend should probably be embarrassed at how loud your affection is, but it’s New York. Who really cares? When you’re done being yourself, Sam also gives Tara a bear hug
“So, what’re the plans, birthday girl?” Mindy asks
“Honestly? I just wanna spend time with you guys”
“How disgustingly cute. I think that’s a great idea, babe”
“Are you kidding?” Chad speaks up “The last time we all spent time together, you two were fighting for 4th place in Uno. Fourth place!”
“I think you’re being over dramatic, bud”
“You looked like you were about to flip the fucking table when Tara made you draw 12 cards”
“Like I said, stacking is a curse that makes me angry”
“I gotta agree with Chad, here” Sam chimes in “You almost killed Tara because of Jenga”
“It’s not my fault your little sister is a pathological liar and a gaslighter!” The younger Carpenter rolls her eyes
“You’re awfully childish for someone that’s so old” Your girlfriend laughs, making you look away, embarrassed
“It’s not my fault I’m competitive!”
“So, where do you wanna eat out, Tara?” Anika asks “I’ve been starving practically all day”
“Hooters.” The brunette answers almost immediately
“So, birthday girl, what’s it like being 23?”
“A lot like being 22”
“Noting different?”
“Well, this is the first year you’re here to celebrate with me” Tara turns on her side to face you “I guess that’s pretty special”
You copy her actions, now looking at your girlfriend
“Oh yeah? What’s so special about me being here?”
“Please, you really don’t need a bigger ego”
“Aw you’re no fun”
“I’m plenty fun, babe” Tara reaches down to the hem of your shirt, feeling the skin right above your pants
“Mhm, and what type of fun?”
“You’re such a tease.” Your girlfriend rolls her eyes. Both of you are inching closer to each other to close the gap. You blink for half a second, and Tara straddles your lap with a hungry look in her eyes and a smile that highlights her cute dimples
Diving into you, Tara kisses you with fervor and lust. Her kisses are sloppy, but you don’t really care. Currently, the only thing in your mind is Tara’s name on repeat. Both of your clothes are off in only a matter of seconds due to the brunette’s growing eagerness of wanting your fingers inside of her
“A-Are you sure about this?” You mumble in between kisses and pecks
“Absolutely positive, baby.” Your girlfriend’s ever growing wetness smears on the skin of your exposed thigh, making you sigh in delight
“If you don’t want to keep going, just tell me and I’ll-“
“Y/n.” Your head snaps up at the brunette saying your name
“I want this. I want all of you. Drill it into your pretty brain, yeah?” Tara makes an act of lightly drilling her finger into the side of your head, making you laugh
When you kiss Tara for a second time it feels different. Her lips taste sweeter and all you want to do is give her the entire world. Unfortunately you’re only mortal, so you opt to give her a few lot of mind blowing orgasms instead
“So, what’re your plans for the break?”
“We were actually planning a road trip to the beach this weekend to celebrate, and you’re coming”
“No room for debate, huh?” You laugh, swinging an arm over her shoulders “I’ll have to bring my truck, though. Elizabeth is 100% going”
“Sometimes I think you like her more than me”
“You may be my girlfriend, but Elizabeth is my first love” This earns you a punch to the arm via Tara. Although it doesn’t hurt much, you feign a wounded expression and place the back of your hand to your forehead
“Woe is I, for my girlfriend no longer loves me…”
“You’ll be okay” Tara rolls her eyes
“Kiss it better?”
“Please can we have a ride without our helmets?”
“Sam wouldn’t forgive me if we crashed and you weren’t wearing a helmet”
“Please, baby?” Tara uses her best puppy eyes, and she knows they’re working when you look away to resist her charm
“The sunset is beautiful, the back roads are empty, and I want to spend our last moments here on the beach. Don’t you want to see the view, baby?”
You sigh, looking away. This girl was going to be the death of you.
“Well after such a confession, I don’t think I’m able to say anything other than yes” Tara kisses you on the tip of your nose, making it scrunch up just how she liked it
“This is gonna be so aesthetic, babe”
“…Aesthetic?”
“You’re not that old, love”
Before getting on, you take two spare sunglasses from your leather jacket pocket and hold them out for Tara
“Aviator or round?”
“You take the Aviators, I want you to look like one of those guys from Top Gun” Tara takes the sunglasses out of your hand to place them on your face
“Geez, I look more like a biker than a motorcyclist now”
“There’s a difference?”
“I’ll teach you one day. Cmon, the sun’s setting already”
Tara truly believes she’s made it to heaven while you drive. Arms around your waist, the salty breeze, and not to mention the beautiful setting sun. This is what she’s always been craving
Exhilarated is how she’d describe being around you. The simplest touches sent shivers down her spine. The tiniest glances made Tara’s heart giddy with joy. How couldn’t she fall for you? Picture-perfect is what you were. Not boring, not simple, not easy. You were… you
With sand in you hair from previous beach endeavors and a smile wide enough your girlfriend can see just from looking at the back of your head, Tara can’t image herself anywhere but with you
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ssahotchnerr · 3 months
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Can I request a fic based on these thought ❤️Aaron would 100% be the kind of dad that would spend all night building a barbie house or dolls house and would also very willingly sit and play barbie’s with his daughters.
well worth it
YOU'RE SO RIGHT THAT'S TOO CUTE cw; girl dad!aaron, bau!fem!reader, fluff <3
growing impatient and nearly beginning to doze off without him, you exited your bedroom in search of aaron. you've waited all day to be cozied up with him, and you simply couldn't wait any longer.
you've been comfortably waiting for over an hour; having gone through your full night routine, getting into bed, reading a few chapters of your current read. aaron even came in to change into his pajamas at one point, but trailed out again.
"hey you," you peeked your head into the living room, finding aaron laying stomach-down on the plush carpet. "you coming to bed? it's getting late."
"in a minute." aaron mumbled gently in response, his voice vaguely muffled into whatever it was he had in front of him. "as soon as i finish up here."
you ventured further into the room in curiosity, the closer proximity allowing you to see your daughter's new dollhouse set before him.
your nose crinkled lightly in amusement, a small smile forming on your face. and as if aaron could sense it - he peered up at you, a matching smile on his own lips as he saw your tickled expression, his brown eyes aglow.
"i promised i would have it ready in the morning." aaron admitted with a soft chuckle as he sat up, you scrambling down on the carpet to join him. "it's done, there's just so many damn stickers that have to be in certain spots." he grabbed the instruction pamphlet, studying it for a moment. "wallpaper for every room, that was a pain. things like a bath rug for the bathroom. even some go on the furniture - they're tiny, tiny stickers..."
as he trailed on and on, listing all the details, you fell quiet the more you followed along to his words, your eyes analyzing his face in slight astonishment.
"what?" aaron laughed breathlessly again, his eyebrows furrowing quizzically as he tossed the pamphlet aside, the paper creating a fluttering sound as it fell. he grasped onto the sticker sheet once more, his lips drawing into a frustrated line as he struggled to peel one off - his large hands all to blame.
"it still surprises me out of nowhere sometimes, despite how much time has passed." you shook your head slightly in content, swiping the sheet from his hands. you easily removed the sticker, handing it to him. "you're listing off the necessities for a dollhouse. for our daughter. there was a time where the most i heard you talk was while giving a profile, and just, here we are now. i dunno, does that make sense?"
"completely." aaron agreed as his smile retook form on his face, placing the sticker where it belonged. "happens to me every day. how lucky i am to have you. never thought i'd be dad to another, yet alone a girl dad at that."
"it suits you." you grinned, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "want some help? anything to get you to bed sooner."
aaron looked at the instructions again, a soft hum leaving his mouth as he thought. "again, it's pretty much finished foundation wise. but if you wanna start setting the furniture inside, be my guest darling."
side by side, the two of you worked together, rather giddily at that. quiet quips, playful comments how your own home could use these and whatnot (aaron groaned at your suggestion of wallpaper). warm but soft laughter, to prevent waking up jack and your little girl. you continued to help aaron peel the stickers as needed, and he, the notorious stickler, double checked you were putting items in the correct places 'according to the instructions'. you both knew once your daughter had her hands on her dollhouse, would nothing remain where it belonged, but that didn't stop him from teasing you; "did you put it in the-" "aaron, yes!"
finally, once in bed with aaron at your backside this time, one of his arms draped securely around your waist, you fell asleep with the heartwarming thought that your daughter's very first request in the morning - after her initial excitement - would be for aaron to play dolls with her. and of course, would he comply (just for a bit, and as long as she finished breakfast first). five minutes would surely turn into ten, fifteen, twenty depending on how early she awoke.
such brought up the potential risk of aaron being late to work, but if it allowed just a few more smiles to come from baby girl, it was well worth it.
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macfrog · 11 months
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moneyball cowboy like me chapter four
part iv of dbf!joel is yours!!! check out my masterlist to find the first three chapters for all your dbf needs. as always, thank you all so much for all the love n support. you guys make writing this series so much fun!! 🤍 i lowkey don't know whether or not i hate this chapter but i had to write it once the idea was in my head 🤷‍♀️ enJOY
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pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader
summary: when joel double-books you and your dad, you decide to teach him a lesson
warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! oral (f receiving), praise kink, lotsa teasing, lil bit of bratty reader, lil bit of dom!joel, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), consumption of alcohol, cursing
word count: 4.2k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
You raise your eyebrows at Joel innocently as you push the popsicle deep into your mouth, sucking as far as the back of your throat will allow, before dragging it back out with a pop. A thread of sweet, fruit-flavored saliva strings between the tip of the popsicle and your bottom lip as you pull it away. You run your tongue slowly over your lips and smile at him. He looks pissed. He can’t take his eyes off of you, or your swollen lips, but he looks ready to snap. “I found snacks, by the way,” you lull.
How slutty is too slutty? When you’re going over to your dad’s best friend’s to…Well, you’re not quite sure what yet. You’ve picked out a short blue summer dress, strappy back, with black lace panties underneath. If you’re looking, and the light is right, you can see them through the blue fabric.
Joel would, you know that much. That’s all you really care about.
You’re putting earrings on in the mirror when your dad knocks and edges into your room.
“Where you headed, kiddo?”
“Just out for a drink with Sam. Said we’d have a catch-up at the barbecue, so.”
He narrows his eyes.
“It’s not a date.”
“Hey,” he lifts his hands, “I didn’t say anything. When will you be home?”
“Dunno. Why?”
“I’ll be at Joel’s, so remember your key. Just in case.”
Excuse me? Did he just say –
“Joel’s?”
He nods, sitting down on your bed behind you. You stare at him in the mirror.
“What’s happening at Joel’s?”
“Rangers game. He’s having Bill and Hank and me.”
Just then, your phone buzzes. You subtly lean over and catch a glimpse of the screen before it fades to black again.
Joel: Call me when you’re alone. ASAP
You roll your eyes and let out a low sigh.
“Can you give me a sec, Dad? I think I wanna change my outfit.”
“Sure. I’ll give you a holler when I’m leavin’.”
He shuts your door behind him and you wait until you hear his footsteps recede to call Joel.
“Hey, baby, listen, I’m gonna have to raincheck.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Something’s come up.”
“Right.” Your tone is muted and flat. On purpose. Joel notices.
“So…we’ll figure somethin’ out, right? You workin’ much this week?”
You scoff. “I dunno, depends on when the next Rangers game is, doesn’t it?”
He’s quiet for a moment. Then he takes a deep breath. “Kid, I’m so sorry–”
“Here I am,” you throw your arms up and march around your room, though you know he can’t see you, “getting ready, putting together the sluttiest-within-reason outfit I own, and all the while you’re gearing up to host my dad and your buddies.”
“…You’re wearing somethin’ slutty?”
“Not anymore,” you huff as you pull the dress off. “I’m changin’ into sweatpants.”
“If it’s any consolation, I’d still be into you in the sweatpants.”
“Shut up.”
He laughs. “I will have them out and gone as soon as the game’s done, and then you can come over, okay? Sound good?”
“And you’ll make it up to me?”
“I intend to.”
“’kay. Just know you’re gonna pay for this.”
He says through a chuckle, “See you later, baby.”
You hang up.
You rake through your drawers for something a little more comfortable to wear, settling for a floral skirt and off-shoulder top. Equal parts casual and suggestive. Perfect for payback.
Joel knows he’s gonna pay. He just doesn’t know when.
“Hey, hon, that’s me headin!” your dad calls up the stairs.
“Wait up!” you reply, grabbing your shoes and hopping out of your room. “I’m comin’.”
“You want a ride to Frank’s?”
“No, I’m coming to Joel’s.”
He watches you struggle down the stairs with one shoe on, brows furrowed. “You wanna…come watch the game? What about Sam?”
“He just cancelled.”
Your dad looks tickled. “Cheatin’ on ya, is he?”
You stand straight, finally having pulled your shoe on, and punch his arm. “I’ll be in the car.”
“Alright…” he mumbles, following you out.
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Joel’s face when he opens the door is a picture you never want to forget.
“Hey– I – did not know you were comin’.” He ushers you both in.
“Neither did I,” your dad replies, “she decided last minute. Blew off some date with that boy from Frank’s for this.”
“It was not a…” Your sentence ends with a sigh as you follow him inside, looking up at Joel as you pass. He knows damn well you didn’t even have plans with Sam, never mind a date.
“Big Rangers fan?” Joel calls from behind as the three of you head for the living room.
“Yes,” you reply, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as possible.
“Big enough to schedule a date during the game?”
“I’m sure I’m not the first to do that,” you hiss through your teeth, and he gives you an amused grin.
Bill and Hank haven’t arrived yet. Your dad sits in his usual recliner seat and sighs. You and Joel share the couch, where he turns on you to interrogate you more.
“So, what’s with the change of heart?”
“I, uh…I didn’t know it was this game.”
“And what game’s that?”
“The…Uh…You know. Rangers.” You shrug.
“Name three players.”
“That’s sexist,” you reply, pointing a finger at him.
Your dad cackles, rocking back and forth in the chair. “Beers, Joel?”
“In the fridge,” Joel answers, eyes still on you.
Your dad, who’d be oblivious to a hurricane outside if it weren’t for the warnings on the news, waltzes past the pair of you, locked in a death stare.
“You’re here to cause tr–”
“Trouble, yeah.” You flash him an innocent smile. “You caused it first.”
The doorbell rings and Joel doesn’t move, eyes still dancing all over your body; your shoulders, your hips, your thighs peeking through the slit in your skirt.
Your dad calls through from the kitchen, offering to get it, and you hear the rumble of Hank and Bill’s voices.
When Joel’s eyes meander back up to meet yours, a dangerous look in them, he leans in close. You tilt your jaw to allow him access, but his lips never touch you.
Breath hot on your skin, his Southern drawl whispers, “I started it, and I know how to finish it, pretty girl.”
Then he stands and heads to the hallway to meet his guests. You clamp your legs together.
Bill roars your name when he sees you. “I didn’t fuckin’ know you liked the Rangers!”
You stand and nervously accept his arms over your shoulders, squeezing you so tight it takes your breath away. Joel stifles a laugh in the doorway.
“I just wanted to be around for all the fun,” you almost gasp when he releases you.
Hank is older and smaller in frame, and he gives your hand a little squeeze as he passes by to the couch. “We’re up for it tonight, kiddo,” he smiles sweetly, “it’ll be a good’un.”
“Bill, beer? Hank?”
“Bourbon for me, Joel. Brought my own bottle.” He hands it over.
As your dad squeezes past to join his friends, Joel clicks his fingers at you and jerks his head toward the kitchen. Your jaw falls open with mock offense.
“Dick,” you whisper as you pass.
“Needed help from my waitress with the drinks,” Joel murmurs with a smirk, the two of you heading through.
He opens the fridge and reaches up to grab three beers – Buds, you notice – from the top shelf. His shirt lifts a sliver from the waistband of his jeans, exposing the tan skin beneath.
Your head cocks as you stare at him, gripping onto the worktop, probably more to stop yourself from approaching him than to look casual. But when Joel turns back around, he reads you like an open book.
“Quit starin’,” he mutters, nudging you to shift out of his way.
You don’t budge, so Joel shifts further up the counter. When you slide up to follow him, pinning yourself between him and the marble surface, he scoffs.
“Stop that,” he whispers.
“Stop what? Thought you knew how to finish this?”
“Alright,” he hums, arms reaching around yours to crack the beers open in front of you. Your back is flush against his chest.
“Then,” he mumbles, chin hooked over your shoulder, “we take this,” he reaches for a whiskey glass and Hank’s bottle of Yellow Rose, sliding them over in front of you with one hand. He takes your hands in his, using you like a puppet to pour Hank’s drink.
You can’t help but giggle as his stubble grazes your cheek.
When you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, you feel an unmistakable swell behind your ass. Joel’s breath falters for a brief second.
You want more. To be frank, you’d take him here and now if it weren’t for his buddies in the next room. But this isn’t about what you want right now. Not yet.
You push off the counter gently, your ass touching Joel’s crotch, grinding into him. His jaw tightens, teeth lock together, and he emits a low growl. He doesn’t move; just stands with his arms around you, hands gripping the worktop, holding you in place as your hips rut on his hardening bulge.
The TV is switched on and you hear a familiar commentator’s voice.
“Joel!” your dad yells from the living room.
“Had your fun?” he grumbles in your ear.
You shake your head. “Not yet.”
He moves his arms then, letting you go, taking his and Bill’s beers and Hank’s bourbon, and backs away. His eyebrows are cocked, and you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face.
You watch him until he disappears into the living room, and snap out of your daze. I’m not here to be wooed by him.
I’m here to make him finish what he started.
When you enter the living room, beer in hand, all four men are literally on the edge of their seats, as far forward as they can get without actually sliding off of Joel’s couch.
You notice a space between Joel and Hank, and slip between the coffee table and Hank’s legs. He moves back to allow you the space to squeeze by and slot in on Joel’s left.
As you fall down into your seat, all eyes glued on the TV screen, your right hand comes up to balance yourself – Who are you kidding? – on Joel’s thigh. The inside of Joel’s thigh.
His head jerks down to stare at your fingers, locked around his leg. Checking nobody’s looking, you move it slightly upward. Closer to his –
“What are you doin’?” he whispers through gritted teeth, low enough that the other men don’t hear.
“Watchin’ the game,” you reply, innocent and sweeter than sugar.
His free hand takes hold of yours and slides it off of his thigh without looking, eyes always on the room around him.
You breathe a laugh as he readjusts in his seat, sitting up awkwardly straight and keeping his legs a safe distance away, parallel to yours.
You’re just getting started.
----------
Let’s be frank about it: baseball is fucking boring.
Well, let’s rephrase. It’s not that you don’t like watching it; you’re sure that, in more appropriate circumstances – relaxing on a lazy Sunday, or at an actual game, where the atmosphere buzzes with excitement – you could enjoy it.
But right now, you’re sat with your dad’s buddies, an ache between your legs that you can’t fix, and the only person who can fix it, is refusing to even look at you.
Given the situation at hand, you can’t really fault him for that. But you’re still a little mad.
When they roar at the screen for what feels like the thousandth time, you decide to take yourself for a quiet jaunt to the kitchen.
“You got snacks?” you ask Joel.
“Cupboard above the microwave,” he replies, gaze locked on the game.
You saunter out of the living room, finishing the dregs of your beer, and place the bottle in Joel’s sink.
Reaching up to search his cupboards, you find one bag of Cheetos and another bag of pretzels. You toss them both on the counter, and they land a little bit away from Hank’s bottle of bourbon.
You pick it up, reading the label. You’ve never really been much of a whiskey drinker, but you’re bored, and it’s here, so you may as well.
You pour a little into the bottom of a glass and lift it to your lips, giving it a good sniff before you take a sip. Your face screws up immediately, swallowing just to get the liquid off of your tongue, feeling it burn its way down your throat.
“You okay in there, kiddo?” your dad calls, hearing your coughing, and you splutter a “Yep!” in response.
Would it taste better with ice, you think? Maybe if you could get used to it, it wouldn’t be that bad. You amble over to Joel’s refrigerator and haul the freezer door open, in search of ice cubes, but finding something even better.
You lift the box, sliding one of them out and unwrapping it. When you knock the freezer door closed with your hip, you strut through to the living room and stand behind the couch in the doorway.
No one notices you sneak in; they’re all waving their fists and yelling curses at the TV.
“What’s goin’ on?”
Four heads turn to give you an update on the game, and three hastily turn back when the crowd suddenly begins cheering.
One head, though, whips straight back to you. Stood in his living room doorway. Sucking on a popsicle.
You raise your eyebrows at Joel innocently as you push the popsicle deep into your mouth, sucking as far as the back of your throat will allow, before dragging it back out with a pop. A thread of sweet, fruit-flavored saliva strings between the tip of the popsicle and your bottom lip as you pull it away. You run your tongue slowly over your lips and smile at him.
He looks pissed. He can’t take his eyes off of you, or your swollen lips, but he looks ready to snap.
“I found snacks, by the way,” you lull.
“Yeah? Good.” He twists back around to face the television, a hand running across his jaw. He shuffles in his seat again, just as awkward as he is uncomfortable.
You let out a quiet giggle and meander gleefully back through to the kitchen.
Not long after, you’re at Joel’s counter eating some of his pretzels when he and your dad stalk through, followed by Bill and Hank.
“Game over?”
“No, kid,” Bill chuckles, “seventh-inning stretch.” He yanks open Joel’s refrigerator and takes three more beers, passing them around.
He perches on a bar stool next to you, bringing a hand down on your back – loving, of course, but in typical Bill nature, kinda painful.
“We ain’t doin’ too bad,” Hank muses as he pours another whiskey, and your dad nods silently.
Your eyes flit between the men, now deep in conversation about the game, then land on Joel, leaning against the doorframe sipping on a beer, his eyes on you.
You lean over the counter, popping your ass out, and make him watch as you open your mouth, extend your tongue, and place a salty pretzel on it, closing your lips around your finger and licking it clean.
His expression never changes. Just watches like you want him to, beer bottle clutched in his fist.
“I’ll take these.” Bill’s hand swings across and scoops up the Cheetos, and before you know it, they’re making their way back out of the kitchen.
Joel’s eyes bore into yours as your dad, Bill, and Hank filter out past him. He’s mad, you can tell that much. He paces over to you.
“Knock. It. Off.” His voice is a low growl.
You shake your head. “No can do.”
He sighs, gripping your wrist. Before you can take a breath, he’s dragging you out of the kitchen and upstairs, where he makes a right and almost shoves you down the dim hallway.
“The hell is your game?” he hisses when you’re out of earshot of the others.
“Having fun, what are you doing?”
“I’m trying to keep everybody from seeing the fun you’re having. Touchin’ and rubbin’, lookin’ at me like that in front of everyone. The damn popsicle.”
“You liked that, huh?”
“You gettin’ off on this?”
“Mhm.” You nod a little too desperately.
“Well, quit it. When we’re alone, fine, do whatever you want. Not when your dad’s watchin’.”
“My dad ain’t seeing none of it and you know it.”
He runs a hand through his hair and brings it down over his eyes. Seeing him this stressed and undone over you, over what you’re doing to him, sends pulses of electricity through your body.
“What the hell am I gonna do with you, girl?”
You shrug. “Maybe you should punish me.”
“Maybe I fuckin’ should,” he spits, turning away from you.
As if just hearing what you said, he turns on his heel, staring you down with an expression you read to mean one thing: he’s fucking considering it.
“Maybe I fuckin’ should…” he whispers again.
You try to keep your cool façade up, but the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark, jaw clenched, towering over you and cornering you against the wall, has you so wet and needy that you can’t pretend anymore.
“Joel…”
Whatever you were about to say is cut short by the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Joel reacts before you do, reaching behind you to pull a door open and backing you into his linen closet, quietly following you in and closing the door again.
There are just inches between you both, pressed chest to chest in the tiny confines of the closet. Joel’s head tilts and listens for Hank’s figure, stumbling back and forth across the landing in pursuit of the bathroom.
“Where’d you say it was, Bill?” he calls downstairs.
“First door on the right, dumbass!” Bill’s voice shouts back up.
Joel’s fist suddenly wraps around the handle, his eyes glued to the wall above your head, listening intently. He’s making sure Hank doesn’t try the wrong door.
Which, of course, he inevitably does.
It rattles some, but Joel’s grip stops the handle from turning. He glares up, shaking his head, mouthing profanities. First door, you fuckin’ moron. You stifle a laugh behind both hands.
“Hank!” your dad’s voice shouts from downstairs. “Not that one, idiot, the one next to it!”
Finally, the door stops trembling.
“I see it now, sure enough,” Hank mumbles, and you both listen to him spill into the bathroom next door.
You let out the breath you’ve been holding in your chest. Joel lifts his hand off of the door handle and places it around your jaw.
“You’re gonna be real quiet, alright?”
He’s speaking so low and so quiet that your eyes track his lips to read the words he’s saying.
“Gonna do what I say and keep that pretty little mouth shut.”
You squirm under his touch, hands gripping his shoulders, desperate for him to kiss you.
Instead, he holds your jaw tight and forces you to look at him.
“Say it.”
“I’ll be quiet,” you breathe, “I’ll be good. Just fucking touch me.”
He runs his tongue along your bottom lip then, asking it to part, and when it does, pulls you roughly against him, free hand dropping to your ass. His tongue battles strong against yours, bittersweet with the taste of beer.
You feel yourself intoxicated with the taste of him, the smell of him, the feeling as his hips purposefully rut into yours. You want him to mark you again, give you something to hide, something to make half-assed excuses over when people spot it. You want him to make you his.
You moan into his mouth, hands finding his hair, and he grips you tighter.
“Shut – the fuck – up,” he snaps between kisses.
He pauses only to listen to Hank tumble out of the bathroom and back downstairs, then gives you a peck on the lips with a cocky smile.
Suddenly he’s at your neck, lips kissing, tongue licking, teeth grazing, and then he’s making his way down, over your breasts, breath hot and unsteady on your heaving chest.
You can hear the booming laughter of the men downstairs. Their shouts and calls at the television. It all echoes up the stairs, floating in under the slit of light from the hallway outside.
Joel’s on his knees now, placing delicate kisses up your thighs. His hands pull your weight onto his shoulders, fingers taking hold of the hem of your skirt and hiking it up. When he reaches your underwear, he looks up, a dark look in his eyes. A question.
“Quiet,” you mutter, nodding, and buck your hips toward him in attempt to hurry him the fuck up.
He smirks at your neediness and kisses you over the lacey fabric of your panties. You bite your lip to keep a moan from escaping your lips. Joel’s eyebrows raise, waiting for you to make a sound. When you don’t, he pulls the fabric back.
He positions himself perfectly at your sex, pulling your thighs a little wider apart over his shoulders. Your head falls against the wall behind you, but your eyes stay locked on him, watching every little move he makes.
He starts by placing his lips against your clit gently, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. He’s soft, warm, but with a hunger for more.
He sucks there for a minute, your hips rolling against his mouth, vision becoming clouded with stars in the darkness of the closet. Your hands tease his hair, gripping and pulling harder the more pressure he applies to your core, the closer he drags you to your high.
When he pulls away, a tiny gasp passes your lips. You expect him to get mad, punish you for making noise, but he just grins to himself and dives back in.
His tongue licks along your folds and you have to bite down on your sleeve this time. It’s no use, your moan breaks free and fills the tiny space, but Joel’s groaning too as he tastes you for the second time in three days.
“So – fucking – good for me, darlin’,” he whispers when he comes up for air, then gets right back to it.
His fingers grip your thighs so tight it almost hurts, keeping you steady. His head drops a little lower, and you feel his breath across your lips.
“Joel,” you moan, and he looks up. “Need your tongue.”
When he drags it between your folds and dips ever so slightly inside you, your back arches, shoulders digging into the wall. You’re doing everything not to scream, his tongue lapping you up, nose rubbing against your clit, but you’re nearing closer and closer to your orgasm.
“Keep – going – fuck, Joel,” you breathe, eyes screwed shut, hands tangling in his hair, pulling his head closer against you.
“Shh,” he’s cooing now against your cunt, pulling a hand under your thigh to insert two fingers as his tongue massages your clit. “I know, I know,” he says, lifting his chin. “Poor baby just wanted some attention, huh?”
You smile, eyes closing in bliss as his tongue reattaches to your core. You whimper his name as your walls start to close around him.
Just then, a roar lets out from the living room, and the coil snaps. You cry out, moaning Joel’s name as you cum on his tongue, your sweet noises drowned out by the thunderous cheers from downstairs.
You swear you feel Joel smirk against your wetness as you unravel for him.
You’re panting, hands still clinging onto his hair for stability, as he pulls away from your cunt and leans back. He gently rolls your thighs off of his shoulders and helps you to stand, before his tall figure straightens up in front of you.
You instinctively grab his shirt and pull his lips against yours, wanting to taste yourself on his tongue. Joel’s breath hitches when your teeth graze his bottom lip and you pull away, releasing it.
“I fucking love this,” you mutter, and he laughs.
“Yeah? I just missed a whole inning ‘cause of you.”
“Worth it.” You smile as he opens the door, checking the coast is clear before letting you out first.
“Where the hell you two been?” your dad asks as you both rejoin the group.
“Missed one hell of a play, you pair.” Hank raises his glass toward the television.
You sit a little distance from each other on the couch, your needs fully satisfied, and Joel clears his throat.
“Was showin’ her my new six-string.”
You notice him out of the corner of your eye licking his lips. Fucker.
Your dad shakes his head with a laugh, spinning the recliner back to face the screen. “First baseball, now guitars. What has gotten into you, lately, hon?”
“Hey, Joel?” Bill sits forward, leaning over the coffee table to Joel, who lifts his head in reply. “You mind showin’ me that six-string after the game?”
You choke on your beer and Hank’s hand comes up to clap you on the back. “You alright, girl?”
“Maybe, maybe,” Joel replies, trying to ignore you, coughing and spluttering at his side.
With a few more good whacks from Hank and a clean sip of your drink, you recover just enough to join the conversation.
“It’s a really neat guitar, Bill.”
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galacticnova3 · 1 year
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Since she has now flown off I am obligated to post the order of potato fairy extra large that I looked after for several days. Aka a gloriously chumby Polyphemus moth— the second one I’ve seen alive in over a decade— that decided to hang around our porch for most of its adult life. I saw the first live one on the same day, but he flew away when I tried to get close. But still, that’s a great sign that their population in my area is finally starting to recover! Anyways, here’s the wonderful big little creacher where I found her, which should probably make it clear as to why I moved her. Ants don’t mess around and I wasn’t gonna just leave her inches away from danger.
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I was pretty glad I did, as even after her wings were fully dried and extended and everything she couldn’t actually take off. See: her first “flight”.
Big fan of the loud impact PLAP sound, really added to the already very good demonstration of gravity. Worry not, she was totally fine afterwards. Here she is that night and the day after! Very cute and fuzzy, 1000/10.
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The next day I thought she had flown off, but then the day after that she was back on the porch! I could tell she was the same one because of her damaged antenna. She started laying eggs on the house and I realized that wasn’t going to be good for the caterpillars that might hatch, since it was a relatively long distance to any host plants even without including the vertical climb to reach branches of leaves. Since she clearly felt safe where she was, and I was also worried about ants and birds and possible insecticides, I ended up making a little “baby box” for her out of a thoroughly rinsed plastic container that initially held salted honey-roasted peanuts. I gave her a stick to hold on to which also gave her a route to climb out of the box if she wished, and provided various fresh oak leaves to lay her eggs on. Figured it would be a good setup because I could easily move it to a safe place once she was done, and keep an eye on the eggs until they hatched. I might even try to raise a few caterpillars if the eggs are fertile. However, during the process of me setting that whole deal up, she decided I looked like a good egg laying spot.
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You can see the “glue” that sticks the eggs to surfaces! It was cool to see up close: she’d lay an egg, wait for it to dry, and then lay the next right by it. She ended up sticking four on me before I was able to gently nudge her to the egg laying box. The stick was eventually deemed an acceptable substitute, and over night she… made an egg stalactite of sorts on it? Very weird, I think, I dunno; most of what I read online said their eggs would be laid in spread out clusters of two to three on suitable host plants. I know it wasn’t because she couldn’t get out, as when I went to check on her she had already made her way to the top of the stick and was hanging off of it outside the box. I didn’t think to take a picture of that as I needed to drive to college, but source: dude trust me. Here’s a picture of the egg sculpture I took when I got home.
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When I was done with that I went to move her off the porch where she had been staying safe for the last 5 or so days to the more wooded area of the yard, but she ended up flying off to the treetops on her own after I brought her into the open. I guess laying a bunch of eggs made her finally light enough to fly. Maybe she was feeling upset at me for not being able to pay child support and making her lay her eggs on a stick instead? Or she was just doing normal moth things or whatever. It was bittersweet to watch her go, but I’m glad she had the chance to soar the skies at least once before her time was up.
@onenicebugperday
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hoejosatoru · 5 months
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Off Limits
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bonten!Ran Haitani
Summary: Your older brother, Mikey, forbids any of his subordinates from putting their hands on you. Naturally, Ran takes that as a challenge.
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: Alcohol mentioned, drugging mentioned (reader not drugged), oral (fem! receiving), fingering, raw sex, cream pie, Mikey is an over protective brother, guns, pet names like angel, sugar, pretty girl, etc I think that's it? kind of an abrupt ending bc I'm silly like that
It was a boring day for Ran Haitani. Well, if you consider hunting rival gang members down and beating information out of them dull like Ran does. As much as he loves his job, the thrill of seeing another man's fear, feeling his fist connect with deadly precision, sometimes it was a bit monotonous. All work and no play makes Ran Haitani a dull boy and such.
He thought he'd fix this with a trip to Bonten's strip - no gentlemen's club. He could hear Koko yelling at him in his head for, 'lessening the value of their asset' by not using some euphemism. Ran didn't think it mattered much. Men just wanted to see women take their clothes off; they didn't care what it was called.
Usually going to the gentlemen's club made him feel better, but even this was feeling dull to him today. He's already fucked all the girls he had an interest in. Some of them multiple times. And they were great, sure, but he nothing that could spark his interest now. He needed fresh blood, so to speak.
Then you walked in. Ran had been idly drumming his fingers along the dark mahogany of the bar top, half listening to Rindou and Sanzu drone on about the days' events. His fingers halted the moment he saw you, straightening up and zeroing in. He'd never seen you before, he would have remember that face... that body. Were you a new hire? He wondered... No it couldn't be. The execs ran background checks on all the women in the club, which fell to Ran or his brother to do. No way you slipped through the cracks.
A prickle of anger flared through him as he wondered if you were dating one of the execs. He couldn't image one of the guys dating a woman like you and not bragging about it though. Maybe a patron's girl? You seemed to be looking for someone. Ran smiled. He could be a helpful guy, take you to your boyfriend... and then put a hit out on him. He didn't play fair, but he always played for keeps.
"Shit, who's that?" Rindou piped up behind him. Ran stifled a wave of possessiveness rushing through him. If he made it too obvious how bad he wanted you, this would become a contest he didn't want. At least Rindou's response to you confirmed that he didn't know you, so you couldn't be a dancer.
"Dunno," Ran shrugged, "But looks like she could use some help."
Sanzu rolled his eyes. "Since when do you care about helping random women."
Ran knocked back the rest of the whisky in his glass. "What can I say, I am a feminist." Sanzu and Rindou groaned at him, but his back was already to them making a beeline towards you. The closer he got, the more he was taken by you. You were so beautiful, but you also looked more nervous that he originally appraised. Maybe you were truly just lost. Wrong place, right time - for Ran at least.
"Hi," Ran said, mustering all the calmness in his voice he could manage. You looked him up and down, your pulse quickening - and not because you were nervous. The man standing before you was one of the finest you'd ever laid eyes on. But you couldn't let that distract you from your purpose here. "Haven't seen you around here before, are you lost?"
You shook your head. "No, I'm... looking for someone." You were vague, not sure of who this man was and not willing to trust anyone but who you were looking for.
"Oh? Well I'm one of the owners here," Ran replied casually, though he was dying to know who you were here for. "Maybe I could help you out?" His words sparked recognition in you, he could see it in how your eyes widened.
He's an owner? That mean he must know... "My brother, I'm looking for my brother." You felt the tiniest rush of relief that you bumped into someone who could truly help you.
Brother. Ran couldn't help but smile. This was the best case scenario; there was not issue of competition there. "And who's that, sweetheart?"
"Mikey."
"Mikey?" But it wasn't his own voice that verbalized his surprised. He whipped around, irritated to find Sanzu and Rindou followed him. Sanzu was shocked by the mention of the boss's name. Ran couldn't deny he was surprised too; he had no idea Mikey had a sister.
"Since when did Mikey have a sister?" Rindou questioned.
Sanzu scowled. "I knew it," he snapped, "But I didn't know it was her." Of course Sanzu, Mikey's little dog, would be privy to that information. But even he had never laid eye on you before, he simply was just aware a sister existed. "You're not supposed to be here," his comment pointed right at you.
"I know, I know," you replied quickly. Mikey was very clear to you that you were supposed to stay far away from his... line of business. "But it's an emergency. These guys came to my job and I- they were looking for me." You shivered at the memory of your close call.
Sanzu's eyes widened. Ran could practically hear the gears turning in his head: how was he going to use this as an opportunity to further win Mikey's favor? Ran rolled his eyes, as if Sanzu needed to do any more ass kissing.
"Did anyone follow you here?" Sanzu demanded.
"No - I don't think so," you replied. "Please can't I just talk to Mikey?"
"C'mon Sanzu, you're scaring the poor girl," Ran interjected. If Sanzu could use the situation to his benefit, so could he. "Even if someone did follow her, we'll handle it. Let's just get her to Mikey." He gave you an assuring smile that caused a blush to rise in your cheeks. Ran didn't miss it, of course, savoring the soft little smile you returned to him.
Sanzu didn't argue, telling you to follow him instead. He led the way, weaving through the tables where patrons sat. Ran and Rindou took up the rear behind you, following to Mikey's private room at the club. Ran gave a particularly nasty look to one man who stared at you a beat too long.
"Did you know Mikey had a sister?" Rindou whispered to Ran.
"No."
"Interesting."
Ran smiled, this was exactly the type of fun he needed. "Very."
Sanzu opened the door to Mikey's office. He was sitting alone at his desk, a whiskey in his hands as he looked through a pile of papers. His eye flicked up, annoyed at the intrusion until he saw you. He jumped out of his seat. "Y/n, what are you doing here?" he was half between anger and concern.
You rushed past Sanzu to your brother. Ran leaned against the closed door, eager to see how this played out. "I'm so sorry Mikey I- I know I'm not supposed to be here," the words tumbled out of you. "But there were men looking for me. I got scared."
Mikey's eyes darkened. "Tell me exactly what happened."
You sat down, realizing how badly you were shaking. You'd come here on pure adrenaline and now it was wearing off. You explained to Mikey how you had been in the back of the bakery where you work, when you heard a gruff voice asking for you. Well, it was really more like demanding. At first you had been afraid you fucked up someones order, but when you caught a peak at the 2 men looking for you you knew instantly they were not looking costumers.
Thankfully, they hadn't seen you and your coworker had the good sense to insist you were not working today. It took some convincing, but they finally left. You lied to your coworker and said you had a crazy ex. But really, you knew the symbol on their jackets was one your brother warned you of. A rival gang. And somehow, despite Mikey's best efforts to keep you far away from his lifestyle, they found you.
"You swear you weren't hurt?" Mikey questioned, softening now that he understood why you were here.
"I'm okay I promise, just a little shaken up," you replied, "I don't know what I'm gonna do about work."
"You're going to quit," Mikey state, shooting you a look when you balked. "I should have known something like this would happen. You got really fucking lucky today, y/n. If they had gotten to you... I don't even want to think about it. You have to stay close to me. Under my protection, there is no other way."
"But my coworkers could be in danger," you replied, sad at the thought of never getting talk shit about rude costumers while kneading dough again.
"I'll have my guys watch the shop for a few weeks to make sure it's safe. And tell me the name of the girl who had your back. I'll make sure she gets compensated," Mikey replied. Before you could protest, Mikey returned his attention to the men behind you. "Sanzu, get everyone to the meeting room. We need to discuss this immediately."
Sanzu slipped out obediently. Mikey eyed the two remaining men suspiciously, particularly the taller one. "And who do I have to thank for finding her?"
The taller one, Ran you believed his name was, smiled. "That would be me boss."
Mikey's jaw tightened. "Of course." He didn't express gratitude as you expected, but Mikey was not the most warm and fuzzy person. "You two can go wait in the meeting room. I'll be there shortly." They both nodded and slipped out wordlessly. You noticed, though, Ran eyes scan you one last time, which made your heart stutter in your chest.
Mikey instructed you to stay in his office while he went into the next room to have a meeting with his executives. "Don't worry, the club is guarded by my men, you're safe here. I'm gonna make sure everything works out, okay y/n?"
You nodded. You trusted your brother completely. Mikey squeezed your arm in attempt to be comforting before exiting the room. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the headache that was dealing with subordinates.
Despite the short amount of time lapsed, all his executives were there waiting. At least they knew their place, he thought. Dogs who come when called. The room was much more cramped than their board room back at HQ, but it worked for when they needed it. Mikey took his spot at the head of the table.
"Most of you don't know this, but I have a sister," Mikey began, his eye shifting around the room. All the men, besides those you had already met, looked surprised and confused. Sanzu was the only person who knew of your existence prior to this. Being he was Bonten's number 2, he had to ensure someone would look after you should anything happen to him.
"I've kept her secret from everyone because I didn't want her to be in danger. But somehow our rivals have found out about her," Mikey stopped, swallowing his anger as the weight of the situation hit him. "We are going to find the men looking for her and we are going to fucking kill them. All of them. Destroy their gang one member at a time if we have to."
The men nodded along, Sanzu particularly eagerly. He always excited at the thought of bloodshed.
"You're all to guard her with your life," Mikey continued, "I'll be working on a schedule for everyone to take turns keeping an eye on her while the rest of us continue work as usual."
"What if you bring her to work?" Koko asked. Mikey's brow furrowed, but he continued. "Our headquarters is secret and there always a bunch of us around. That's gotta be safer than just one of us at an apartment. And then you don't have to worry about shifts."
Leave it to Koko to find a way to be more efficient. Mikey debated it. On one hand he had a good point; it was probably safer to have you surrounded by more people. And then Mikey would alway be around at work and when you went home. Because he was definitely making you move in with him, at least until he was sure there weren't any active threats against you. But at HQ you'd in the middle of his business and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. Plus there were other concerns he had...
"I think that's a good idea," Ran piped up.
"I agree," Takeomi said, cigarette hanging from his mouth.
Of course they like the idea. Mikey wasn't an idiot, he knew you were a pretty girl. He's seen the way men look at you and being a man himself, he knows what those looks mean. It makes him sick to his stomach. It's not that he is some control freak that would say you're not allowed to date anyone, but he has high standards when it comes to who should be allowed to date you. And this lot of men don't even come close. They were great employees, cunning and devious, but he wouldn't want their hands on you. Having you around would be like throwing blood in shark infested waters.
Still, he couldn't deny it HQ would be the safest place for you to be. Mikey sighed. "Alright, you're right Koko," he replied, acknowledging only his white haired subordinate. Had it been anyone else who suggested it he may have said no, but Mikey trusted Koko not to have ulterior motives. He wasn't so obsessed with getting women in his bed like the others. "But there will be rules. Her safety is the number one priority. I'll expect you all to take a bullet for her if needed."
No one objected. Signing on to Bonten meant being willing to take a bullet for Mikey. What was one more person?
"And no one fucking touches her," Mikey stated, looking every single one of them in the eyes so they'd recognize the weight of his words. "If you do, I'll put a bullet in you."
Ran's lips twitched ever so slightly. He couldn't say he was surprised, but he was still amused. He was a man who loved a challenged and Mikey just made this all the more fun for him.
***
Moving in and working with Mikey was not as bad as you thought it would be. Mikey's "apartment" was more like a penthouse and did not make you miss your shabby little apartment at all. You had been worried about privacy, but you had your own room and bathroom down the hall and he gave you space when you needed it. You were actually liking the arrangement, getting to spend more time with your brother than you had in a while.
Even going to work with him wasn't so bad. At first he expected you to just sit around all day, but you insisted on doing something while you were there. He was very wary of it, not wanting you to get too involved in his way of life, but eventually allowed you to do some small stuff. You cleaned up a bit, made coffees, helped organize some old files. Simple stuff.
Then you discovered the HQ had a kitchen. It was little, but Mikey was more than happy to buy all the gadgets you needed to make it functional. Since then you spent your days baking, the thing you missed most. It worked out perfectly, it kept you busy with work Mikey deemed safe and the guys got fed delicious pastries. Everyone was happy.
In fact, you were surprised by how much you were enjoying this. There was still an element of fear knowing that the bad guys knew who you were and sure you got frustrated you couldn't go out with friends, but you did like going to work Mikey.
There was another reason you enjoyed going to Bonten HQ with Mikey so much. Ran Haitani. The attraction you felt towards him the first time you saw him has only grown. He charmed you with ease, like he wasn't even trying. Ran, of course, was trying. Specifically he was trying to make his flirtatiousness seem as casual as possible, as to not upset Mikey. He loved testing the limits, seeing what he could get away with.
"What're you making, sugar?" Ran asked as he entered the kitchen. He'd started calling you that nickname after you started supplying the execs with endless sweets. From anyone else you would think it was corny, but from Ran and it made your heart skip.
"Peanut butter brownies," you replied, taking in his appearance. He was always dressed well, but today he looked particularly good in an immaculate lavender pinstripe three piece suit. You reckoned no other man could pull it off.
He looked you up and down, a sly smile on his face. "Can't wait to get a taste." Your cheeks colored. You knew he was talking about the brownies, but the way he looked at you...
"You sure do have a sweet tooth, Ran."
"Well you're certainly hard to resist. Your baking, that is," he said with an innocent smile.
"Is there something specific you'd like to try?" you asked, returning his faux innocent banter.
Ran grinned, "I could think of something." It was then you realized the two of you had gravitated towards each other. Ran towered over you, his rich, warm scent filling your lungs.
Before you could speak, your brother's voice shattered the tension between the two of you. "Am I interrupting something?"
Ran turned, a calm smile on his face. "Nothing, boss. Y/n here was just telling me about the brownies she made. Was hoping she'd let me try 'em." He spoke so casually, nothing like the low simmer in his voice that had been pulling you in just seconds ago.
"Yeah, I bet," Mikey replied flatly. "A word alone, Ran." Mikey left without another word.
"Save a corner piece for me, they're my favorite," Ran smiled at you before slipping out of the room.
"I thought I made myself clear," Mikey stated when they were alone.
"I don't know what you're talking about, boss," Ran replied, that stupid smile still on his face. Mikey wanted to punch it off him.
"Do you think I'm stupid Haitani?" Mikey asked, his jaw tightening.
"Not at all, boss."
"Then you know that I know what you're up to," his eyes narrowed.
"I just wanted to try some bro-" Mikey cut him off by pounding the wall next to his head. Ran didn't even flinch.
"If you touch my sister you're a dead man," Mikey snapped.
Ran smiled again. "Wouldn't dream of it."
But dream he did. Hell he straight up fantasized about it. What you'd look like bent over those counters you constantly worked at, looking up at him with those pretty eyes while on your knees, how sweet you'd taste... He thought about it all. But more importantly, he planned.
Later that evening Mikey addressed the incident in the kitchen with you. "I don't like you talking to Ran."
"What? What's wrong with him?"
Mikey almost laughed. What wasn't wrong with him. "He's just..." he searched for the right word, not wanting to scare you. "An idiot."
You laughed. "All men are idiots." Mikey gave you a look, but couldn't help but smile.
"I'll ignore that comment," Mikey replied, "But he's just involved in bad shit. I don't want you getting close to people in my line of work, even the one's I trust. Plus, he only wants one thing."
You rolled your eyes. "Why do I feel like I'm about to get the birds and bees talk."
"I'm serious."
"Oh, I know you are," you half sighed, half laughed. "Like I said, all men are idiots. I know what men want, I've dealt with plenty of guys like that. I'm sure I can handle myself. Plus, he doesn't seem that bad."
"Well he is. So stay away from him," Mikey said with finality.
"What're you gonna do, kill him?" you asked, half joking.
"If I have to," Mikey replied so casually you couldn't tell if he was joking or not. You knew he would never hurt you, but you weren't blind to what your brother was capable of.
"You're way over thinking this," you replied, realizing that it would not be worth it to argue over this. "I don't see Ran like that. He's just another weirdo you work with. I'm not interested in him."
That seemed to appease Mikey. You were a better liar than you thought.
Since the day Mikey found you in the kitchen with Ran, the two of you were never alone together. Neither of you address what was going on between the two of you, but you knew he felt it. You could tell by the way he looked at you. You were certain it was not a one-sided crush. However, you were smart enough to know it could not be openly pursued.
Then, one day Ran appeared to you in the kitchen. Alone. "Mikey's out on errands."
For a half second you wondered why he was telling you this, but then it hit you. "Oh." Mikey was gone. That meant...
There was nothing more to be said. You were on each other in an instant, as if taken over by autopilot. Ran's hands felt so good on your body, already wrapping around your waist. You pulled him in by the back of his neck, desperate for more.
Ran wasn't patient in the best of times, but today? He couldn't wait another second to have you. He lifted you up on the counter with ease, pulling a half giggle half gasp from your lips. He moved skillfully, stripping your lower half without ever breaking away from the kiss until he dropped to his knees in front of you.
"Been dreaming about tasting you," he hummed against your thighs. He licked a stripe up your pussy and groaned. "So sweet. Knew you would be."
Ran buried his face between your legs. He knew he didn't have a ton of time and wasn't going to waste a second of it. His plush lips attached to your clit, making you gasp. You knotted your fingers through his lilac hair, needing something to steady yourself. His teased you, pressing against your aching entrance.
"Fuck Ran," you gasped, hooking your thighs over his shoulders and locking him against. Ran loved it, the feeling of your plush thighs pressed against him, how desperate you sounded. He needed to see you completely fall apart.
Ran slipped a finger into your throbbing hole and returned to sucking at your clit. You gripped his hair so tightly it made his scalp ache, but that only egged him on more. The feeling of his fingers curling inside you and his tongue lapping at your clit was too much for you. Your body shuddered as came, moaning his name. Ran savored every second, not pulling away until he was sure you were completely finished.
He stood up, about to kiss you again when his phone went off. He checked it, cursing when he saw Rindou's message. "Mikey's on his way back," He practically groaned. Ran almost laughed at how you pouted.
"I want you so bad."
"I know sugar, believe me," his eyes flicked down to the tent in his pants, making your eyes widen. "But if you're brother kills me before I get to fuck you then we're both shit outta luck." He gave a quick kiss. "Promise I won't make you wait too long." And with that he was gone.
***
It had only been two weeks, but it felt like an eternity. You thought there had been a lot of tension before you hooked up, but now it was down right unbearable. You both seemed to be avoiding each other, not because you didn't want to see each other, but because you couldn't trust yourselves not to pounce on each other. The few times you were in the same room together were a true test of endurance.
The way Ran looked at you drove you wild. His eyes would scan your body in a way that would seem casual to anyone else, but you could feel him undressing you, thinking of all the ways he would ravish you. It made your heart race and your knees buckle. Ran had one hell of a poker face, but the glint in his eyes told you that he too was dying to get his hands on you.
By the time a month passed, you were wondering if Ran was ever going to make a move. Then, on a Thursday night just as you were about to head to bed you got a text.
Ran: Come get the door. Quietly
Your heart raced, wondering if you were reading it right. The door? As in the front door where you lived with Mikey? He wouldn't dare come here, not with Mikey at home. But you had to check. Your crept out of your room, pausing to listen for any signs of Mikey being awake. His room was on the opposite side of the house from yours, but you didn't dare get to close and risk waking him.
When you finally opened the door, you were shocked to see Ran standing there with a calm smile on his face, despite his text.
"What're you-"
Ran held a finger up to his lip, silencing you. "Let's talk somewhere private, yeah?" The way his eyes flicked over you, smirking at the tiny shirts and tight little tank top you wore told you he wasn't looking to just talk. This was a bad idea, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.
The next thing you knew, Ran was in your room. It was weird to see him there, in your private space. It made your stomach churn with anticipation.
"What're you doing here?" you tried again.
Ran sat on your bed, making himself comfortable. "I couldn't stay away from you any longer."
"But here? With Mikey at home?" you questioned.
"Mikey and Sanzu hang out and drink every Thursday night," Ran replied, "They always come in Friday with hangovers. I was feeling generous and bought them a few bottles of their favorite whisky for this evening. I imagine they'll both be sleeping well with how much they drank tonight." Your eyes widened as you processed his words. Ran didn't tell you that he slipped some sleeping pills in their drinks. You didn't need to know that; all you needed to know was that Mikey was very unlikely to disturb you two tonight."
"Are you saying-"
"I'm saying, if you can be quiet for me sugar, we can have some fun tonight," Ran smiled wickedly. "Whaddya say? Can you be a good girl and be quiet?"
"Yes." The words were barely past your lips when Ran pulled you on to his lap. Your straddled him, your bodies easily fitting together. You replayed Ran's kiss countless times since hooking up, but feeling it again blew your imagination away. His lips and tongue moved expertly, intoxicating you. Any concerns of getting caught fell to the wayside as your hips rolled against him, feeling hims harden under you.
In a flash, Ran had you flipped over, your hands pinned above your head. He licked his lips as he looked down at you. "God the things I would do to you if we had time." He kissed at your neck, nipping it lightly. He was careful to not leave a mark, but couldn't resist the way it made you gasp. "Promise one day I'll be able to do everything I want to you. But for now I just gotta be inside you."
You nodded eagerly, wanting to feel him in you so badly it ached. Ran practically tore your clothes off as you pawed at his. His fingers slipped between your legs, grinning smugly as he felt how slick you were. He toyed with your clit before sliding two fingers inside your tight pussy. He watched as your wriggled and gasped at him pressing your g spot.
He drank in this sight, relished the rush of having you splayed out and needy for him in Mikey's own home. Fucking you like this was the ultimate fuck you to Mikey. He could practically get off on the power trip of it alone.
Ran continued to finger you as he sucked on your tits. Your fingers tangled in his hair, scraping his scalp. He hummed in pleasure as he took your nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud as he played with your clit. The sensation grew too intense, pushing you over the edge.
You let out a moan and Ran's free hand clamped over your mouth. He secretly loved that you couldn't keep yourself quiet, but couldn't risk getting caught before he got to fuck you.
"Thought you were gonna be quiet for me?" Ran teased as you came down from your high.
"Fuck I'm sorry Ran, just felt so good," you replied breathlessly. He couldn't even pretend to be mad.
"That okay pretty girl," he replied, "But I'm gonna fuck you even better than that, so you better keep that pretty little mouth shut." You nodded eagerly, anything to get Ran inside you.
Ran stroked his long, hard cock as he spread your thighs apart more. He admiring how slick your pussy looked, his cock aching to feel you wrapped around him. He lined himself up to you, pushing in. His held fell back as his bit his lip, trying to stifle a groan.
"Fuck, angel, prepped you and you're still so fucking tight." He kept his voice low. He rolled his hips, feeling your pussy suck him. "Feels so fucking good."
You didn't trust yourself with a reply. The way Ran thrust into you made your entire body flutter with pleasure. You felt him so deep it left you breathless, his cock hitting spots in you you didn't know existed. You grabbed the back of his neck, burying your face into it. You sucked and nipped at his neck, trying to prevent yourself from crying out. The more Ran fucked you, the hotter it was to keep quiet. Your teeth sunk into the junction of his neck and shoulder and Ran relished in the sting of your bite.
"Fuck Ran," you whined against his skin as pleasure consumed your senses. Your pussy throbbed around him as you came, making his thrusts falter.
"Shit baby so good," Ran panted. His cocked twitch as he finally released, filling you with his cum. He slid out, a smug grin on his face as he watched his cum leak out of you and make a mess of your bed. He was debating if he should risk a picture when he heard the familiar metallic click of a gun cocking.
"Mikey what the fuck!" you gasped, covering yourself in your sheets, though he wasn't even looking at you. His dark, cold stare was solely on Ran as he point his gun at the lilac haired man's head.
"You're fucking dead Haitani."
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tboygareth · 1 year
Text
here, have a little modern steddie meet-cute. meet-ugly, maybe? idk. 1k words, mostly dialogue
"uber for, uh," the guy in the beemer at the curb looks at the phone in his hand, "eddie m.?"
"hey, that's my name!" eddie shouts, stumbling toward the car. the world is tipping sideways a little, but it's been a good night.
he wrenches open the passenger side door and slides in.
"cool if i sit up front, man? i get motion sickness sitting in the back, and you would not like me when i'm motion sick."
"uh, sure?"
eddie pulls the door closed behind him and says, "so what's your name, pretty boy?"
"you don't check the app before getting into some random guy's car?" the guy asks with a huff.
"oh, no, i never order these things for myself." eddie laughs. he tries to think back, remember how many jameson shots he put back tonight. can't. oh, well. "my roommate always sets it up beforehand when i come down to the styx for a show."
"a show? like a concert?"
"uh, no. drag show. styx is a gay bar." the guy's quiet at that. "that a problem? still dunno your name."
"oh. steve," the guy - steve - says shortly. "no, it just... looks more like a... metal bar, or something."
"sometimes things are both, can you believe it! they do a drag show last wednesday of every month. good show tonight, all the girls looked great." he kicks his feet up on the dashboard of the car, watches steve's eyes cut sideways at them as he does. "do you like drag shows, steve?"
he's testing the waters, feeling steve out to see if he should be worried about getting into some random guy's car outisde a gay bar with a dead phone. eddie's definitely had a little too much tonight. he's probably got glitter in his hair. there's definitely black lipstick smeared across his cheek from when allison chaynz planted one on him earlier during her set.
"only been to a few, but yeah. they're a good time. good show."
safe, then. tentatively.
eddie studies steve for a moment, trying to figure him out. he's got this thing he does sometimes, in an uber; eddie's an easy read - he gets into an uber and the driver immediately flips their spotify over to a metal playlist.
the driver's are usually easy to read too, and it's eddie's favorite game; he tends to know when he's got a country boy behind the wheel, or an emo transplant from the mid aughts, or the indie girlies with their iced coffees and perpetual dark undereye circles that all the concealer in the world can't hide.
the guy looks like he wears teenage boy deodorant and smells like repressed trauma. he has the indie girlie dark circles under his eyes, an apple watch strapped to his wrist. rich boy. drives a beemer. good hair, stupid highlights. there's a tube of burt's bees cherry lip balm in the center console and a days old energy drink in the cupholder.
"hmmm, the front bottoms," he decides at last, after staring at steve for what must have been an uncomfortably long time.
"i'm sorry?"
"i said, the front bottoms."
"is that a... what's the word... a euphemism?"
"no, steeeeve. it's a band. check 'em out sometime, your daddy issues'll thank you. do you like music, steve?"
"sure."
eddie clicks his tongue. "smells like bullshit. no one who likes music says sure when someone asks if they like music."
they're stopped at a stoplight. from behind the wheel, steve is studying him right back, looking him up and down, his gaze coming to rest once again on eddie's shoes on the dash.
"get your feet down," steve says, pushing at eddie's shins. "do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"
"fine, fine. so if you don't listen to music, steve, what do you listen to in this fancy bmw?"
"sports, mostly," steve shrugs. "podcasts sometimes."
"oh, boy, you are a walking red flag, aren't you? shame you're so pretty."
"well what about you? what do you listen to?"
"guess."
"i dunno, probably that metal shit. five finger whatever, or something."
eddie presses his hand to his chest. "five finger - oh, stevie, i am wounded. i wouldn't be caught dead listening to bro rock."
out of the corner of his eye, he definitely catches a smile from steve.
steve holds an aux cable out to him. "here, then. wow me. show me some real metal or whatever."
"god, i'd love to take you up on that," eddie says, huffing out a little laugh. he holds his phone up. "this sucker's been dead for hours."
this time steve's the one to click his tongue. "shame."
"truly. so what's your story, steven? what's got you out at three in the morning?"
"it's my night off," steve shrugs. "just started night shift at the hospital, trying to get used to the new sleep schedule."
"mmm, the hospital. you a nurse?"
"i am. trauma nurse."
"nice. ever see any gnarly injuries?"
"had a pretty fucked up dog bite come in the other night."
"shit."
"yeah." another stoplight, another unsubtle once over from steve. "so what about you? what do you do?"
"line cook."
steve's eyes linger on him a little longer than necessary. "oh, but i'm the walking red flag. got it."
"whoa," eddie laughs. "what's that supposed to mean?"
"i've dated line cooks. everyone's dated a line cook."
"sounds like something a slut would say, steve. craziest dick you've ever had, huh?"
"mmm."
it's not a denial.
they're getting close to eddie's building now, and that's an actual shame. because steve's cute. he needs a haircut maybe, and the stubble around his mouth and chin is just on the wrong side of five o'clock shadow, but he's got these distracting little moles along his face and neck and arm that eddie's been itching to play connect the dots with since he got in the car.
"wait, i know this building," steve says as he slows at the curb and looks at the address on his phone again. "my roommate's girlfriend lives in this building."
it clicks into place, then, for eddie.
"oh, shit! you're robin's steve!"
steve's eyebrows draw together as he gapes at eddie, and then his eyes go wide with realization. "chrissy's ed?"
"eddie," he corrects. "gotta be a level twenty friend to call me ed. and chrissy's the only level twenty friend i'll ever have."
"noted. good to finally meet you, man. i, uh. i guess this is you, then, huh?"
"yeah, sure is. maybe i'll see ya around." eddie goes to get out of the car.
"oh, you will," steve says, his smile lopsided and goofy. "i'll make sure of it."
"hold ya to it," eddie promises with a wink.
steve wiggles his fingers in a flirtatious wave as eddie walks backward on the sidewalk toward his building.
so robin's steve is cute. maybe he should have been letting chrissy set them up this whole time.
still. sports and podcasts. guy's a walking red flag. who knows, maybe they're green. eddie's never been able to see the difference anyway.
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keymintt · 1 year
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i’m sure this has been at least mentioned before but one of the things that’s so fucking funny to me abt kim is that, for all the shit he gives you (harry) when you try to get him to dance or wear the piss jacket, he actually wants to do those things to some extent
over the course of the game you can’t get him (or other characters for that matter) to do things he doesn’t want to do. disco elysium isn’t a power fantasy game like that. don’t get me wrong some things he needs to be convinced/challenged for, but he can and does outright Refuse things at times like when you suggest getting on the kineema and cutting the body down from there, not going into the tent with the ravers, or not climbing up the shitty feld building ladder, etc. and there are also definitely moments when he reluctantly puts up with harry/the player’s antics bc harry’s persistent and it’ll just put a quicker end to things to be like, “yeah sure fine i’ll eat the sandwich“ or, “i'll spare you another *20 hour mind-project*— yes, i am”
when you really badger him into dancing in the church and pass the authority check, he of course puts up some resistance but then goes, “now check *this* shit out!“ and starts busting it down! if he was reluctant to dance, he’d totally just do some stupid lil shimmy to appease harry with the same enthusiasm of, “oh god more cryptids” but no! he starts “heel kick[ing] the church floor with such intensity, it’s reasonable to fear he’ll kick a hole right through it“ he had those moves Locked And Loaded, but it’s not like he was gonna bust them out oh god no, then harry pulls his rank on him and he thinks “well everyone else here can see that the guy making a bigger fool of himself is ordering me to do it so i guess it’s okay for me to“
(thinking abt that, there’s prolly something to also say there abt music being a sort of outlet for kim. in my brain the anodic dance music and the shit speedfreaks fm plays have more in common than not, but kim also strikes me as somewhat of a music snob about that sort of stuff so. i dunno)
and then the pissfaggot jacket! when you’re trying to convince him to put it on he essentially says “you’re gonna keep bothering me about this no matter what“ but at the end of the interaction he still puts the jacket on and keeps it on! “the first chance i get, this thing’s coming off“ yeah right, the first chance he had was immediately after putting it on, harry clearly doesn’t give a shit if kim leaves him hanging fashion-wise, he’s the one who puts on the fuck the world jacket first! and once harry takes off the fuck jacket, the piss jacket is gone too, so it basically boils down to “as long as i’m following around this guy who’s making a bigger fool of himself, i can do this thing that i wanted to do got coerced into going along with“ 
kim’s also like “it really *does* look cool to have both of these jackets on right now“ once he puts it on like who are you kidding bro. your lame ass wanted this. sure he wanted to be a jackass and take the jackets but he also confiscated those hubcaps because they were cool and he was gonna eventually install them, was he not gonna steal the jacket to wear it?
he has his pristine little Image to uphold so he’ll only do things he wants to do if it looks like he’s being forced to and/or he won’t be the biggest fool in the room because god forbid he expresses himself. there’s plenty of deeper analysis here in conjunction with how he relishes in having control over his desires and how harry’s someone who can get him to break his rigid self-control and let loose a bit, but for me it just boils down to:
he’s so fucking lame and it’s so fucking funny
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sweettjrose · 20 days
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So I have been checking the Disney Dreamlight Valley dialogue and it is actually really helpful for getting characterization for characters like Mickey, Donald, Goofy, Minnie, and even Scrooge (Not sure if Ducktales or Duck Comics Scrooge). You can literally just ask them questions and it seems very in character.
Honestly I've been finding the Mickey dialogue useful (and honestly reaffirming).
I appreciate that they specifically acknowledge that Mickey isn't always happy and does make mistakes.
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Also remember that post I made about how I don't think Mickey would let fame get to his head and many people agreed... Turns out we were right.
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It is even cool to see more about how Mickey feels about his friends like in the favorite friend question above or even in this where he talks about Donald.
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It seems like Dreamlight treats the characters as if they were actors and their shorts as performances. Similar to Roger Rabbit and other appearances. (Though it seems like their personalities are generally the same)
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Also Three Musketeers reference:
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I dunno. I just wanted to share because I think it is cool to have the characters themselves tell us who they are. (At least in the interpretation of the writers, but I am sure Disney made sure they at least got the main crew accurate)
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sebasluv · 1 year
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how i imagine sebastian and his emotional support hufflepuff:
(also why is he doing the rock’s eyebrows 😭)
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hufflepuff stands for fluff, fight me (jkjk)
it is no surprise that you, a hufflepuff, got adopted by a young slytherin boy
every slytherin needs an emotional support hufflepuff, am i right?
it was a stormy night for students in hogwarts, and sebastian wasn’t having the best time, to be honest
walking around the castle before curfew is just the right thing to calm his mind…unless, he was met with a new problem
“why can’t this- work-“
“what are you doing?” sebastian appeared out of nowhere from the dark. glancing over your shoulder, he met with your enemy.
“erm- just trying to get a look of the stars tonight, astronomy class is trying to kill me,” you huffed as your telescope was placed on the table.
“you know that the storm isn’t going to make it better, right?” he shifted his weight onto one feet, resting his shoulder against the wall.
“i know, i just- it’s due tomorrow,” you sighed.
“let me help you, i know a spot,” he shuffled onto his feet.
“c’mon, m’ not gonna kill you, i am not that type of slytherin.”
“as if…led the way, please”
to say that sebastian adopted you from then on isn’t quite much of a lie
ominis noticed your presence from that day, he can feel that sebastian is bringing you around more often.
he wasn’t the biggest fan of strangers but you are someone special for his best friend, he knows that.
wandering around he castle has never been so entertaining before you met these two
of course, you are like the “mother” to the group
y/n: sebastian, no
sebastian: sebastian, yes
he loves loves loves love taking you out for some butterbeer
“you’ve got a foam on your lips,” he chuckled as he almost choked on his butterbeer.
“hey- that’s the secret to enjoying a butterbeer,” you huffed.
“fine, fine, just let me-“ he reached a hand out to wipe a foam off your lips.
“…thanks”
“a single mom who works two job-“ jk 💀
caring for them is the best thing in your life but also an tiring thing to do
feeding them, packing their bags, and definitely making sure sebastian have enough sleep.
“please, sebastian, when was the last time you’ve gotten enough sleep?”
“i dunno, like last five years?”
“c’mon,” you held out your hand as you dragged towards a discreet place in the library. setting him down, you patted your boy on a couch with all of the pillows you could find around there. “sleep tight, you need it,” you smiled.
“it’s just six o’clock,” he yawned.
“yes, it is, I’ll just be reading right there, a nap won’t hurt anything,” you ruffled his hair up as his eyelid fluttered.
of course, you can’t get in their common room. unless…
yes, sebastian broke you in (and yes, everybody knows you are the certified hufflepuff)
“are you sure this is a- good idea?”
“of course, it is always a good idea if you have me,” he chuckled as he lead your way down the slytherin dungeon. “aspiration…”
the empty brick wall suddenly shook and a slythering sensation turned into a shiny silver serpent. climbing up the wall, it reveals a hidden dark door, opening at your gaze.
“c’mon, go on,” he held your hands and dragged you in.
always caring for them, checked. even if it means one of those late nights, working on an assignment.
“you’ve got your notes and parchments?” you looked at them.
“yep” “yeah”
“and your inks?”
“…”
“c’mon, stop forgetting them, please,” you moved skillfully around the mess to put their inks in their bags.
“thanks, y/n”
of course, they are there when you needed them as well.
if you need a help jinxing someone, you know who to call
no one, i repeat, NO ONE. will treat you the wrong way (ahem, especially sebastian)
“her name is Persephoney,” a jacked headed slytherin stuck his tongue out at you and poppy.
“shut it, or you will regret it, perhaps you don’t mind if I just pulled your hair like…that?” you snickered back.
“what could a hufflepuff like you do? run along and tell the professor?”
“she could and do something much worse, be greatful for that,” sebastian backed you up, reaching a hand to rest on your shoulder. “now, back up.”
“ah, if it isn’t the charming slytherin, got into one of those hufflepuff’s jinx? how disgraceful,” he chuckled.
“at least she knows that a beast worth much more than an empty minded person, back up.”
“fine…let’s go,” without a second look, the slytherin was out of sight.
“you alright? poppy?”
“thanks”
“thank you, sebastian, he better know that us, hufflepuff, can do something far worst. we just have the decency to hold it back,” poppy giggled.
“yep, i know you lots can do unimaginable damages”
and you know i like to end it with a heartwarming great hall imagines
the great hall is buzzing with many students and delicious foods. but sebastian’s eyes will always find their ways wandering around the black and yellow table.
but finding you in one of them, comes as easy to him as breathing a fresh air into his system.
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