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#It takes two to TLC
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Raiden shaving Kung Lao’s undercut for him <333
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impossiblesuitcase · 10 months
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Paper rings is so Peter Parker Michelle jones.
YES also thank you for blessing my blog with Spideychelle. I miss them so much. They are so so important.
Particularly "I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this" is very MJ because she wants to be in control of every situation to spare herself from negative outcomes but she allowed herself to open up to Peter and his love. Also "went home and tried to stalk you on the internet" is essentially how she was in Homecoming; knowing when he quit marching band and robotics lab because she's "not obsessed with him...just very observant", when of course she is obsessed with him.
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qveerthe0ry · 4 months
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Slipped Through
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Summary: There is one tiny, silly little caveat to Joel’s insane, old man endurance.  Word Count: 2,182 Pairing: Joel Miller x F! AFAB! Reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, p in v sex, cowgirl, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, premature ejaculation, frottage, no use of y/n
If one thing is for certain in the post-apocalypse, it’s that Joel Miller fucks. 
You find this out a few months after he and Ellie settle in down the street from you. 
He’s handsome, built like a brick shithouse, all bulky muscle from years and years of hard-fought survival. He’s also shy. Everyone else in Jackson thinks he’s aloof, rude, scary. 
But not you. 
You see the same scars on his skin, the same clenched jaw and stony gazes as everyone else. But to you, he’s just a tired, scared, sad man in need of some TLC. 
He gets it, too. 
It took a while for him to warm up to you, your timid advances, your dropped hints. But as soon as he let you in, it was like a forest fire, one single spark caught by the wind and engulfing everything in flames. 
He fucks. 
He’s been around a few decades and it shows. His stamina is incredible. He can fuck you for hours without stopping, make you come on his cock over and over again until you’re begging for him to give in to his release. 
He takes you from behind, while you’re on your knees or while you’re his little spoon. He takes you while you stare up at him on your back, a hand between your bodies to put delicious pressure on your clit. 
Once he even took you up against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist. Only once, though, because he had to call in sick for patrol, and Tommy wouldn’t let him rest until he told him what he’d done to pull his back so badly. 
He’s incredible. A selfless lover, so focused on making you feel good, his orgasm always second (or usually third or fourth) to yours. And he’s sweet, he calls you pet names and kisses you breathless and hands out praise like it’s expiring. He cleans you up after, and fetches you water, and holds you and strokes you until your shivers are gone and your breathing is back to normal. 
You have no complaints. But. There is one tiny, silly little caveat to Joel’s insane, old man endurance. 
He cannot keep it together when you ride him. With a gun to his head, you’re pretty sure he still couldn’t last long enough to get a solid session in with you on top. 
It’s not a bad thing, per se, but you like riding him. You enjoy taking a bit of control, letting him relax and ease his back after a long day. But he just… can’t last.
-
Joel’s cock is in your mouth. You love this part. You love breathing in the mixed scent of homemade soap and Joel’s natural smell as you nuzzle the wiry hairs. You love looking up at him and seeing his aroused grin and dark eyes staring back down at you. You love the way he feels so hot and thick against your tongue. You love getting him sopping wet so it’s even easier to take his girth when he fucks you. You love the feeling of his huge hand on the back of your head, tangling in your hair.
“God damn, baby, you suck dick like an angel.” 
You love that too— the praise, the wicked shit he says that completely negates how shy and timid he is outside of the bedroom. 
You hum around his cock and take him deeper. You’re never able to take him all the way, but when he nudges the back of your throat, you make swallowing motions and feel yourself contract around the thick head of his dick. His hand tightens in your hair, almost painful but not quite. 
“Jesus, your mouth, darlin’. Criminal.”
You hum again, and arch your back like a dog in heat, aching to feel him stretch you open. 
“C’mon, give me your pussy, baby.” 
His words are grunted, and maybe it’s a little mean of you to suck the life out of him before you plan to ride him. You think you like it, though, just being a little mean. 
He makes to move when you finally pull your lips from around him, but you hold him steady with two hands on his broad, sweaty chest. 
His pretty brown eyes widen in question, and his hands grab your hips hard as you hover over his cock, but he doesn’t say anything. 
He wants to. You can tell. His jaw clenches and his eyes fog over a bit as he looks down at your soaked center. But he stays silent as you line yourself up, stroke him through your folds a few times before letting his cockhead catch on your hole and sink in. 
The deep groan he lets out sounds pained. You coo at him, remove one of your hands from his chest to run through his silver curls. 
“Fuck.”
It’s gritted through his teeth, clenched together so tight you’re afraid they’ll crack. When you’re fully seated, you wiggle your ass and clench around him. 
“Baby,” he whimpers.
“Thought you wanted my pussy? Don’t you like it, Joel?” 
You lift up until he nearly falls out of you, and then fall right back down. A sound escapes your mouth, deep from your chest as you rise and fall again, throwing your head back at just how deep he reaches at this angle. 
His fingers grip your hips even tighter now, bruising and stinging. His breath whistles violently through his nostrils, stuttered and heavy. 
“Like it too much, darlin’, please.”
You spare him for a second, grinding down in his lap, swiveling your hips to help him simmer down. You rake your nails across his scalp in what you hope is a soothing gesture, but you can’t help the way you clench around him as you watch him struggle underneath you. 
Seconds pass as your hips grind out the smallest circles against him. His breaths are loud and warm against your nose and cheeks. He looks incredible like this, at your mercy, your devilish grin reflecting in his inky, wide pupils. 
His grip loosens the tiniest bit, and you watch his jaw clench and unclench as he squeezes his eyes shut. 
“You can take it, can’t you? For me?” 
You pout and rock your hips slowly, all the way up and back down, reveling in the familiar stretch and friction that’s torturous and not quite enough. You feel his chest expand with a shuttery gasp right under your palm, broken and ragged, and it makes you just that much wetter. 
“Sweet christ, the mouth on you tonight.”
His tongue pokes out to wet his red, bitten lips. When his eyes open back up, they’re all pupil, black and glossy and shining. Your cunt flutters around him at the sight of him so far gone, undone because of you. 
You squeeze your fingers in his hair, tugging, and he winces and you love it, this proud and powerful sensation coursing through your veins. You understand, now, how Joel feels when he fucks you, when you’re completely at the mercy of the pleasure he gives you. Why his lips always seem to lilt into a smirk, why that satiated smile doesn’t leave his face for hours, and why his gaze still feels so hungry no matter how many times you’ve gotten each other off. 
It’s addictive. 
His face untwists itself as you lighten the grip on his hair, but it screws right back up as you start to bounce on his cock. He curses, and you set a quick pace at the angle that makes you clench around his prick. 
“I can’t– Darlin’, I can’t.” 
His voice sounds panicked, so you lift up, let him slip completely out of you. You peer down to watch his glistening cock jerk wildly as his hips cant up into nothing. The muscles in his thighs tense something fierce, and you’re sure his nails have broke skin on your hips. 
“You can, baby. Just let me take care of you for once. Just enjoy it,” you say. 
His breath shutters in something akin to a sob, a warm gust across your heated cheeks. You let your hand trail up to his neck and goad him to break his staring contest with his jerking, weeping cock.
“You’re evil,” he tells you. 
You smirk. Your nails scrape over his stomach, the patch of curly hair there and the skin that pulls taut as his muscles strain against your touch.
“I think you like that.” 
Your hips tilt to align yourselves once more, and this time you sink down slowly until you’re seated on his thighs. For a moment, he gets a wicked glint in his eyes, dangerous looking. It vanishes as soon as you clench your walls around him. 
“You feel so good,” you whisper.
You catch his lips in your own. Distracted, he can’t kiss you back. The tight line of his mouth is frozen as you nibble on his plush bottom lip and rock your hips up and down. His noises are muffled this way, cut-off, like he wants to keep them from escaping. The softest whines, and the most beautiful music to your ears. 
You set a rhythm to match, and for a moment you think he’s managed to gain control. His palms are warm and sweaty on your hips, and then your ass, and you’re confident as you rise and fall. You’re working yourself up, too, as his prick supplies a delicious friction to the perfect spot inside you. Like it always does.  
But as you gasp and moan with your head thrown back, the calloused palms on your skin turn into sharp nails, and Joel’s sounds falter. 
“Off— get off,” he gasps. 
You do, rising up quickly, looking down between your bodies to watch Joel’s cock strain and throb in the cool bedroom air. You wait patiently for him to calm down as a second passes, then two, then—
“God dammit—”
Your eyes widen as you watch— in shock and horror and amazement and arousal— thick, white stripes shoot up to paint Joel’s chest and stomach. His abdomen pulls taut and his hips quiver with each wave of his climax.
“Shit—”
You’re frozen in time as Joel shakes with the intensity of it. And he just keeps coming, spurt after spurt making his dick jolt and twitch, until the last of it dribbles out of him and his poor cock gives one last gasping breath. 
“Fuck you,” he pants, squeezing your hips, but there’s no heat behind it. There’s nothing at all behind it as he slumps into the mattress, boneless and defeated. 
It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Which may not be saying much, since your pre-apocalyptic life was fairly short-lived, but it’s the truth. 
This man, sturdy and hardened and full of grit, reduced to a mess of a puddle underneath you. You’re throbbing, all because of him, because of what you’ve done to him. 
“So fucking hot, fuck,” you breathe.
You give him no chance at all to recover, so overcome by your own needs. You shift your hips and trap his prick between your folds and his stomach. 
It’s slippery and perfect, and even the feeling of Joel’s cock growing softer as it presses against your clit turns you on. 
Almost as much as his noises, the nearly pained whimpers as you grind against his overstimulated dick, the way he shudders and squirms underneath you. Still, he encourages your thrusts with two sweaty and firm hands on your hips, and the way his fucked-out gaze is focused on you taking your pleasure from him. 
Riding the adrenaline high, it takes virtually no time at all for you to reach your peak. Your nails dig into the skin of his pecs and the back of his neck respectively, as you near the inevitable. Your nose finds where his shoulder and throat meet, biting, hiding your whimpers in his sweaty skin. The hiss he lets out and the accompanying jolt of his hips is more than enough to send you over the edge. 
Atta girl, that’s it, get what you need.
His voice sounds far away, gritted through his teeth, as you pant against him and ride out the last of your orgasm. 
The following silence is quite loud, just heavy breathing and the odd creak of the bed frame. 
Joel must feel when your lips fail to suppress a smile against his shoulder, because he responds with a huff almost instantly. 
“Real pleased with yourself, huh?” 
You giggle, nip at his heated skin with playful teeth. 
“I really am.”
He grunts, and you finally lift up to look him in the eyes. He creases his brow and shakes his head at you. But then that dimple you love so much rears its head as he bites back his smirk, and another giggle bubbles up out of your chest. 
“Sorry ‘bout that, Darlin’.”
He sounds quite remorseful, looking up at you with those puppy eyes, and you cradle his stubbly cheek in your palm. 
“Just gotta train you up, cowboy.”
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gracieheartspedro · 3 months
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Your Needs, My Needs
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THE PRELUDE
a masterlist of how you can help gaza
pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)
description: you have made it to your new home in taylor, texas. your anxiety of owning your our home and being alone is coming to a head, but you need to be productive. a trip to the local furniture turns into you meeting some locals and your new cowboy neighbor.
word count: 3.7k words
warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, description of small age gap, joel being a sarcastic shithead. sarah is canon, so joel is a dad. distracted driving. talks of consuming food. reader has mental illness, mainly described as anxiety, but could be other illnesses. I make it pretty vague. the reader likes football? lmfao
author's note: this is the prelude to the many parts I have planned for these two. this is sort of just setting up everything. I want a slow burn for these two, so hopefully these first couple parts make you guys sweat with anticipation. I also wanna quickly thank all of you for the love on the preview of this fic. I hope you all enjoy it! let me know what y'all think. YEEHAW!
“Sign here and she’s all yours.”
When you brought the pen to the dotted line, you knew that this was going to be the start of your new life. 
While you were nervous about taking on such a huge project, you were ready to find solace in your alone time and work on yourself along with the beautiful farmhouse. You needed some peace and quiet, anyway. 
She was set on 20 acres of land on the outskirts of a small town called Taylor. The land looked like something out of a movie, it’s rolling hills and sprawling fields. 
The house was about 130 years old and needed a lot of TLC. You found it online after hours of scrolling. It was still liveable, but the older couple who owned it before moved to a retirement community and could not keep up with the maintenance. When the inheritance hit your bank account, you called the local realtor and told them you would be flying out there to check it out. When the car pulled up the long driveway, you knew that it would be yours. 
Texas was a new start for you. And boy, were you ready for it. 
You did not have a lot to move in, just a small UHaul full of boxes of clothes and miscellaneous trinkets. You left your furniture in your shared apartment in New York. You needed to find something that was more your style, anyway. 
You moved everything yourself. You were not sure you were ready to trust anyone to help you move in. You knew no one locally, anyway.
It took about three days to get settled, and by that, you simply put up a shower curtain and finally put sheets on your mattress on the floor. You had also created a laundry list of random things you wanted to get done around the house in the next month. Priority number one was getting the bathrooms working. The toilet downstairs doesn’t stop running and your upstairs one won’t flush at all. 
You decided that today was the day you would go out and buy some furniture for your living room and bedroom. You would also inquire to some locals about a plumber. It would take you days to work up the courage to reach out to someone in the phone book, so here’s to hoping you just run into someone on the street. 
You hop into the sedan that you were renting until you could buy a car. It was nice but it was no match for your long dirt driveway. You already expected to pay extra for all the dings on the exterior. 
The roads that lead into Main Street are long and winding. You loved driving, so when it was nice enough to put the windows down, you did so. 
Since there’s no one on this specific stretch, you decide to switch the CD you had shoved into the disc drive, opting for another mix you had made years ago. The radio never played what you wanted, especially the local stations in Taylor. 
In your distracted scramble for the CD, you don’t take note of the large stallion running next to your car. The CD is wedged between the seat and the main console and your fingers cannot reach the awkward position. 
You’re not speeding. But when a giant horse runs out in front of you, you can not hit the break quickly enough. You stop breathing, bracing for impact. You jerk the wheel slightly, swerving away from the steed.  Before your front end can make an impact, the horse is snatched back towards the divot in the road. 
You are in complete and utter shock over how abruptly it all happened. 
Your eye eventually catches a man on horseback, his cowboy hat shields most of his face, but you are more focused on how built this man looks. His biceps were straining against his button-up shirt as he held the lasso taut against his chest. His legs were locked around the brown stallion he was on, his jeans riddled with mud and dust. He had dark curls that peaked out from under his hat.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” You yell, your car slowly inching forward from its spot in the middle of the road, “Where did that thing even come from?”
The mysterious cowboy just shakes his head and trots away, clicking his tongue to guide the horse back into the field. 
Your heart felt like it may leap out of your chest. A car was chugging down the road ahead of you, so you knew you had to move out of the way. You turn into your lane and slowly start down the road again.
You do not even bother trying to find the CD, again. You would rather sit in complete silence. 
-
When you make it to the small stretch of downtown, your heart rate slows down. You spot a local furniture store that looks a bit dated. It was your best bet plus, you wanted to stand on solid ground and gain your bearings. 
You parallel park rather terribly and hop out of your car. You huff loudly, throwing your purse over your shoulder and slamming the door behind you. 
A hot cowboy saved your life. 
It’s the most Texas thing that’s happened to you since you moved here. 
You head inside the storefront. A smaller white-haired lady sits at the front desk, her head in a gossip magazine. 
“Well, hello there,” You muster in your best cheery voice, trying to act like you did not almost die, “I’m lookin’ for some furniture.”
She chuckles as she places her reading next to the register, “Well, you came to the right place, sweetheart.”
You return the laugh, glancing around the large store. Couches and recliners in rows in the front, wooden bed sets lining the back wall. You were so indecisive, you were not completely sure where to start. 
“I need a bedroom set and a couch or two. I just moved into th-”
“The old Caldwell farmhouse,” She cuts you off, hopping off her stool, “Saw you movin’ in a couple days ago. My boy is your neighbor.”
The joke about small towns is always true, you know that already. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. You could not shit without someone knowing about it. 
You raise your eyebrows, acting like you’re shocked she knows about you already. “Yes, that’s right. Your boy?”
“My oldest son, Joel. He lives across the way from ya,” She starts gesturing towards the couches, “Pop a squat on one and see which one ya like.”
You end up sitting on every couch before landing on a brown leather one with a matching loveseat. The old woman is a great saleswoman on top of being sickly sweet. She told you since you are one of her first customers of the month, she would give you a great discount on a coffee table. You were a sucker for a good deal. 
You knew what bed set you wanted immediately. It was a light-washed wood with tall pillars sticking out of every corner. It came with two matching dressers and one nightstand. It was only you, so you didn’t quite care about another side table anyway. 
When the lady starts tallying up your total, you watch the slow-moving downtown. A couple walking across the street into the small diner. An older gentleman walking his small dog. The rickety old trucks that loudly took up the roads. 
You’re so stuck in your head, you don’t even hear what your total is. All you do is hand over your credit card. She smiles and giggles as she swipes the card. 
“So I’ll have my boy deliver it to you tomorrow. He is busy workin’ today, but I’ll have him get it to you. He’s quite the handyman, always busy doing jobs around town. Will you be home in the morning?”
You would have to have some strange man in your home to set up the heavy wooden furniture. It made the hairs on your arm stand up. You knew you would not be able to haul it all, so you had to take the leap of faith and hope and pray this frail old lady’s son is not a serial killer. Or stalker. Or both. 
You needed your furniture, after all. 
It will be okay, you tell yourself. 
“U-uh, I will,” You swallow, “I don’t work right now, so I’ll be home all day.”
“Oh, goody! I will send him your way in the morning. He may have his brother with him just to get the bed up your stairs, but I promise they are good boys. If they aren’t, you come to me and their mama will deal with them.”
You laugh nervously, “Of course, thank you so much.”
You had woken up late, your anxiety creeping up on you last night. Your brain would not stop racing. You didn’t fall asleep until 2 am. You hop out of bed around 10:30 and wrap yourself in a cardigan. You have been leaving all the windows open at night, but you can tell the seasons are shifting because it gets so cold at night. 
The doorbell rings and it’s like your heart falls out of your chest. You know that after you open this door, you’re welcoming in someone completely new and unexpected and it makes your whole body jitter. You make your way to the front door and take a deep breath before opening it. 
Of course. It’s him. The hot cowboy. 
It made sense. The endless green across from your home had to be part of his property. The road you almost died on yesterday was right beside his land. His house was tucked right across from the end of your driveway, with countless barns spread across a couple of acres.
You were secretly hoping he would be some silly-looking hillbilly, but instead, you find out your delivery man is the ridiculously attractive cowboy from the day before. His hair is tidy and dark without the cowboy hat on. It’s peppered with some white hairs, but it only adds to his appearance. His flannel has the top three buttons undone and his jeans are stained with age. You are finally able to get a good look at his face with no shadows covering his permanent scowl. 
He had to be about 10 years older than you. You were not too far off from wrinkles, but you were still young enough to bear children without being considered geriatric. 
He squints at you when you swing the door open. The sun is hitting his eyes, highlighting the warm rich brown color. 
“Howdy neighbor,” He greets, a small smirk plays on his lips, “’m Joel. Nice to meet you officially.”
You introduce yourself, trying not to stutter as you say your name. He made you nervous. You chalk it up to just being nervous around men in general. But it’s the way his eyes trailed you as you moved just slightly.
You feel the need to clear the air because of the way he’s staring through you. 
“And uh, listen, about yesterday,” You try to apologize, but he cuts you off by raising his hand. 
“Wouldn’t be the first time an outsider got themselves hurt bein’ reckless down the backroads. Just glad you didn’t hit my horse.”
The response has a bit of a bite to it. You back up a step, your body also taken aback by his directness. You are used to confrontational people, but you’re not used to Southern folk being that way. 
“No, next time I’ll aim for the ditch and tell my insurance that there was a silly cowboy in the road that I had to miss.”
You can tell by the sheepish smile on his face that he was not expecting you to be feisty.
“Don’t think they’d give ya’ much money for that,” He says in a hushed but matter-of-fact tone.
You relax your shoulders, trying to collect yourself. “Probably not.” 
He turns back to his truck that has your bed frame in the back of it, disregarding the previous statements. “My brother is comin’ by in a few to help me get this stuff in.”
“Well, let’s not let all the air out of the house right now,” You extend the door wider for him. You are giving this man full access to your home now. You try to suppress your obsessive thoughts and instead decide that you know exactly what you can have him do while you wait. You remember his mom told you he was good with his hands, and since he wants to be snarky to you in the comfort of your own home, you would try to pick his mind about some of your home projects. “Come in, let me ask you something.” 
You begin, gesturing him into the entryway. He accepts the offer, kicking his boots off on the porch. You appreciate his thoughtfulness and for a second, you realize you may be the asshole. 
“Mama told you I was a handyman, didn’t she?”
You giggle, finding it funny that he could read the situation you were about to put him in. “She sure did.”
“She needs to stop tellin’ folks that,” His accent is so thick and syrupy, that it makes your insides tingle, “Got too many people askin’ me to fix their stuff.”
You guide him to the bathroom right off the living room and kitchen, “You know much about plumbing?”
“I’m assumin’ you don’t,” He mutters, “What do you have goin’ on?”
You point to the loudly running toilet, “This thing won’t stop running no matter what I do.”
“Well, what have you tried doin’?”
You both stand in the hallway, you looking up at him with furrowed brows, him looking down at you with anticipation. He was quick-witted, and you started to hate how much you liked it. He gave your sassiness a run for it’s money.
“I’ve flushed it a bunch of times. Cursed at it and kicked it,” He stares at you blankly. It makes your stomach roll, “Jesus, Cowboy, can you give a girl a break?”
He enters the narrow bathroom, approaching the toilet like there may be a bomb in it. He reaches towards the handle and jiggles it violently, which makes you giggle a bit. That’s exactly what you did. 
“So, why here?” He questions, squatting in front of the bowl. He continues to mess with the handle while you process his no-context question.
“What Texas or this bathroom?”
He chuckles, his smile spreading across his beautifully tanned skin. 
“You got tons of jokes, huh?” 
You don’t respond, just shrug your shoulders. He stands up, wiggling the top of the tank off the toilet. You watch his hands lock onto the sides of it, ensuring it will not drop off and shatter on the dated tile. 
“Texas,” He strains, freeing his left hand to mess with the handle. You lean against the door frame. 
You are not even sure why Texas. You just needed to get as far as you could away from New York. You did not want your past to catch up with you, and you did not want to get stuck in a city again. But you could not share all this with a random stranger. He may be in your house, looking at your commode, but you can’t completely trust him yet. 
“I just wanted a change of scenery. I always wanted a farmhouse.”
“Lots of upkeep,” He jabs, doing one more once over of the tank, “‘M thinking you may need a new float or chain. I can get my tools tomorrow and come over to fix it. May need to order a new part, though.”
You push off the wall, arms still crossed over your front. He puts the top back on and finally makes eye contact with you. 
He would come over again? To fix your toilet? 
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, ‘m sure it’s the chain or float.”
“No, I m-mean,” You start to stumble over your words. You swallow, collecting yourself for a moment so you do not look crazy to him. “Are you sure you’re okay coming back over?”
He gives you a thin-lipped smile, “What are neighbors for?”
-
His brother arrives in a rickety old truck at about 15 past 11. He looks a lot like him, but shorter. He has those same eyes though, permanently tired. 
“Nice to meet ya, ma’am. ‘M Tommy.”
You grab his hand to shake it and he lingers a bit longer than you anticipated. Joel stayed on your front porch, putting his boots back on to start unloading the furniture. 
You are thankful the weather was kind today, especially since every evening this week has been stormy. The sun was beating mighty hard on the men as they collaborated on getting your furniture inside.
While they get everything set up, you busy yourself making lunch. You get the bright idea to make them each a sandwich. It’s the least you could do. 
You pile the cold-cut turkey and cheese onto the white bread you had, topping it with some mayo. When you hear their footsteps trailing down the stairs, you race out with the sandwiches on a porcelain plate.
“For your troubles,” You say before standing in their path to the door. Tommy smiles brightly, instantly snatching a sandwich from the plate. 
“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a big bite, humming in satisfaction. He walks around you, leaving you standing in front of Joel. His eyes are piercing, his lips ajar a bit, but nothing is coming out. 
“Turkey and cheese, I promise.”
He reaches out grabbing the sandwich from you, “No sweet tea to go with it?”
Your heart sinks, instantly becoming self-conscious of your decision to be nice to these hicks. He was so intimidating with his steely expressions and broad shoulders. There was an essence about him that did not speak to his stone-cold exterior. It was more gentle. But you could only see hints of it when he smiled. 
He can tell the wheels in your head are spinning. Before you can speak, takes a bite of the sandwich and shakes his head. 
“‘m kidding, Yankee. Thank you, I ‘preciate it.”
You settle for letting out a long sigh and returning to your kitchen. You spend a couple of minutes, putting back all the ingredients in their proper places. 
You hear Tommy yell for Joel, his voice kind of panicked. You race out the front door and see Tommy balancing your coffee table off the side of the truck. Joel is running to his aid, the dust from your driveway kicking up behind him. You hold your breath watching Joel help him balance the wooden piece of furniture. 
“Can’t have you breakin’ your back before homecoming,” Joel fusses, guiding the legs of the table to the ground, “You know damn well Maria would have me, too.”
“Yeah, what’s a homecoming game without the head coach?”
You perk up, instantly becoming interested in the conversation that you weren’t supposed to be listening in on. The two men lift the table and start heading your way, right on the threshold. 
“You coach football?” You ask Tommy, trying not to show your excitement. You loved football, it reminded you of Sundays with your grandfather. You never got the privilege to go to an actual game, even in high school. 
“Yes, ma’am, for the local high school in Taylor. We are gonna make it to the state championships this year.” 
You glance at Joel when he says it. He rolls his eyes, “Gotta win at least one game to do that, Tommy.”
They place the coffee table right in front of your new leather couch. Tommy grunts, trying not to argue with his brother in front of a strange lady. 
He can’t help himself, though. He instantly snaps back at Joel.
“You know them boys have been practicin’ day in and day out. Why ya gotta be so negative?”
Joel places his hands on his hips, “Cause Sarah told me the guys in her grade are a bunch of dummies. I highly doubt they are ready to kick Georgetown’s asses.”
Tommy starts towards the door, “Just cause Sarah says it, doesn’t mean it’s true.”
“I believe my honor student daughter before I believe my dumbass little brother.”
You are not shocked Joel has a daughter. You are just shocked that she’s in high school. He looked too young to have a teen, but then again, he did have some grays sprouting. You cross your arms over your chest, watching Joel scoot the table across your hardwoods. 
You’re staring at his hands, trying to conjure up a wedding ring on his left finger. But there’s nothing. Maybe he did not wear it when he was working. Maybe he just forgot to put it on this morning. Maybe his passive aggressiveness towards you was simply to ensure there was distance between you and him, giving you subtle hints that he was taken. 
He finally glances up at you, stopping in his tracks when he notes your gaze. 
“Somethin’ wrong?”
You have no clue what to say because you are so trapped in your head about him. He’s a stranger, god damn it.
“N-no, everything is okay.”
“Don’t look it.”
“I just was not expecting the coffee table to look so dark against the hardwood,” you lie, pulling whatever you could think of out of your hat, “Doesn’t it look dark?”
Joel looks between the floor and the table, shifting in his stance, “Don’t know bout that.” 
“O-oh okay.”
“Alright, well we got ya all set up now,” He starts to head towards the entryway. You trail behind him like a lost puppy, “I’ll be by sometime tomorrow with that part for the toilet. I’m expectin’ another sandwich for that one.”
You grab your front door as you wave to Tommy as he heads for his truck. He smiles and gives you a head nod. Joel turns back to you, his ears perked up for a sarcastic jab from you.
  You think back to something he said to you earlier. You crack a smile, “What are neighbors for?”
PART 1 COMING SOON!
taglist (ppl who asked to be tagged): @joeldjarin @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @mysaviorjoelmiller @brittmb115 @missladym1981 @jasminedragoon
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semisolidmind · 2 months
Note
Drops these thoughts in exchange for absolutely mauling your art.
Saved catnap would be down right horrifying to encounter in the woods-
If your just going for a quick walk, I think he’d just stalk you, ensuring you never get close to Angel’s property.
If you’re there for other reasons……well….CatNap has been debating making a new shire for Angel….(much to everyone else’s dismay and horror…)
And if the person sneaking onto the property has features resembling Angel (hair, eyes, clothing, etc), it gets a little…..off putting to into the barn….
(Also the image of CatNap just licking poor Angel while they’re sleeping beside him is so strong. Even more if he’s doing it to annoy DogDay and rub his scent on angel. Gotta lay your claim to your savior somehow!)
(oh god...catnap barn shrine.... consists of some stolen shirts, a comb, perhaps a throw blanket and some pillows, a picture (with anyone other than y/n scratched out) stolen from the mantle, a spare hairtie or two...anything catnap can get his paws on while the others are distracted or out of the house)
and the idea of catnap occasionally "borrowing" his savior has been on my mind. like, he'll get just close enough to them, quietly from behind, to subtly breath a little red smoke on them. just enough to knock them out. then he'll gently carry them up to his nest in the barns' hayloft. he just wants to hold them, but knows y/n doesn't trust him enough to really let him close.
he spends that time where they're knocked out nuzzling them and purring up a storm. he knows the stupid dog will be breaking down his door to retrieve y/n as soon as he realizes they're gone, so....catnap makes the most of his time with them.
ive also been imagining a scene where y/n leaves dogday and the girls inside to make dinner, and goes out onto the back porch. it's dark, and they can't really see much beyond where the porch light can reach, but...they know catnap is out there. they can see the barest trace of his lanky silhouette in the trees beyond the barn.
his white pupils glow through the gloom. his heavy stare pins y/n in place.
with no better ideas, y/n sits, legs dangling over the edge of the deck. they maintain eye contact with catnap. after a beat of silence, they make the one noise no cat can resist.
pssp pssp pssp.
catnap is confused, if the perk of his ears and small tilt of his head is anything to go by.
but, he does take a slow step out of the trees, recognizing the sound as a summons. he begins to cross the yard, getting closer, never taking his eyes off of y/n. his slow stalking gait is anxiety inducing, but y/n tries to keep it together. they have a plan.
they want to get catnap more comfortable with them, with the house, to help better integrate him into their little family. perhaps a little TLC will make the stray cat more personable.
he looks ready to run despite his intimidating facade. his long tail flicks from side to side. curious, but cautious. his eyes never leave y/n.
catnap slowly gets closer and closer, eventually coming into the light. y/n always forgets how big he and dogday actually are; that sheer size is less threatening on dogday, who y/n knows won't hurt them. they're not so sure about catnap.
the massive toy looms over them in spite of his cautious, low posture.
y/n slowly raises their hands, palms upturned. an invitation.
catnap's eyes flicker to their hands for a second before returning to their face. y/n can only hope he understands what they're inviting him to do.
the feline slowly, carefully, steps forward. he sets his heavy head into y/n's palms. he begins to purr when they ever so softly begin to scratch his chin and behind his ears.
moving out of y/n's space, catnap backs away. quiet and uneasy, y/n lets him go. they know that the process of "rehabilitating" him will take time and patience. getting him used to them and the others will be a struggle. but for now, they're just happy that they could get him to accept touch at all.
he knows that the small, tentative smile on their face is...proud, perhaps. happy that he's accepted their care. despite his hesitation, he soaks in the feeling of his savior's hands on him. he can't remember the last time he'd felt a gentle touch. catnap leans into the motions, eyelids drooping a little in contentment. his white eyes remain locked on y/n's face, his pupils dilating a bit. they seem more at ease with him like this. he basks in their simple affection for several minutes, his purring the only sound; he's thoroughly enjoying the peaceful moment between the two of them.
however, a crash from inside and the raucous voices of the other toys startle him into alertness. his eyes widen, pupils shrinking back to slits and his ears lay flat against his head. he hears y/n gasp in surprise, pulling their hands back. catnap's a bit disappointed at the loss of their touch, but knows that it's better not to invite the ire of the other toys by lingering too long. the moment has passed, and he can feel y/n's unease growing again.
the large toy stalks off into the darkness. y/n waits until he's safely beyond the trees to stand and open the door. they cast one last look into the night before heading back inside to mediate whatever accident just occurred.
catnap, as standoffish as he appears, treasures the small gesture he's just received. he returns to the woods, pleased and purring to himself; thinking about the scrap of affection he's been granted from the hands of his beloved savior. he'll be sure to seek them out for more.
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bountycancelled · 7 months
Text
OPLA characters reacting to a mother-like reader, who takes care of them
genre: headcanons, gn! reader, fluffiest of fluff, angst of you squint but nothing too sad
requested: yes, tysm! (reqs are still open for anyone who wants to request♡)
feat: sanji, zoro
a/n: hope you like it♡ (if you don't, go suck something, doesn't matter what just go suck something)
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Sanji
Sanji absolutely adores the way you take care of the other members. and he's hands down the quickest and boldest in terms of expressing his admiration for you.
since he's proficient in the kitchen and home-cooked (...ship-cooked?) meals are his way of showcasing his care for the crew, you two are a sort of a duo when it comes to Strawhat tlc.
he's such a sucker for your attention, and cherishes every one your tender touches. problem is, he rarely ever gets physically hurt, so he's never really experienced getting patched up by you.
he's even gone as far as to debate whether or not he should "accidentally" cut himself in the kitchen and ask you to help him, but he knows you would never believe for a second, you just know him too well.
he does feel a little jealousy when you baby Luffy, or let Usopp cling to you like a koala every time he's scared, but he understands why you don't do those things with him, he just doesn't require that specific kind of attention.
but one night, while he's staring out at the ocean with a cigarette in hand, you stand beside him with your hands on the railing, but you don't say a word.
he feels the need to get defensive, to convince you that he's okay with a flirty comment and a forced laugh, but you give him a pointed look.
you know he's not okay, you know that he's thinking about something that won't allow him to close his eyes and sleep, and somehow, you know that he needs someone to be there. not to talk, not to listen, but just to be there for him.
the night ends with him in your room, in your bed, in your arms finally being able to experience peaceful sleep.
and as he lays there (he's now completely in love with you btw), he's no longer jealous of any of his crewmates, because this is your special way of taking care of him, and he couldn't ask for more.
Zoro
oh, Zoro absolutely despises whenever you try to care for or coddle him in any way.
it's nothing against you specifically, it's just his rather stupid way of thinking. in his mind, the only people that need the kind of care that you try to give are the sickly, the old, or the weak.
he never gets sick enough to be out of commission, he isn't old by any means, and you know both of those things. so, he can only deduce that you believe that he's weak. and he hates that. which means he hates being around you.
the others try to tell him otherwise, but he refuses to hear them out. he brushes you off with a scowl when you try to tend to any of his injuries, or when he wakes up and finds himself in a different position that's better for his back or his neck than the one he originally slept in.
one day, he falls asleep on a random spot of the ship, and he wakes up a few hours later. but, somethings a little odd this time around. his neck is stiff as a board, and he woke up in the exact same position he fell asleep in.
he doesn't think anything of it, maybe you forgot to move him, or just didn't see him. but this goes on for about a week, you don't move him while he sleeps poorly, you don't ask to patch him up, and even though this is what he'd wanted for so long, he feels shitty about it.
even though he would rather fight an army of soldiers with a butter knife than admit it, a small, very very small part of him, missed your attentiveness.
it was a far cry from the treatment that he had ever recieved from anyone else, and you never let his lack of enthusiasm deter you. well, until now that is.
he felt like he was going insane, just why did his days feel incomplete without your soft touch? the thought ran through his mind as he walked to your room with his hand clutching his side.
he opened the door slowly, stepping inside a little awkwardly. you raised your brow in questioning, to which he only uncovered his wound, showing you how bloody his hand had become from it.
you went to work that instant, caring for his wound with only a softness that you could manage, that he had missed. you led him to your bed, laying him down and asking that he sleeps as much as he needs to heal quickly, and to ask you if he needed anything.
he went to bed (trying to ignore the slight increase in his heartbeat at the fact that he was in your bed, that you were accepting with open arms despite his rejection of tour previous efforts) with the corners of mouth upright, making a mental promise to never, ever refuse help from you.
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blooberrries · 3 months
Text
『consequential』 — satoru
— pairing: satoru x afab!reader — wc: 5k — content: mdni, nsfw; vampire au, college/university au, jealous/possessive satoru, blood drinking, vampire bites (chest, neck and arm), alcohol, mutual pining (a distant relative of idiots to lovers), piv sex, love bites (heh literally), standing/sex against the wall (he holds you up the entire time because he's actually insane), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming,he's a bit of a simp really idk if that was planned — notes: got possessed by the Horny Spirit, also not proofread. enjoy? also be gentle with me I haven't written smut in over a year
prompt: ["Oh, don't be cute."] + [“you’re all mine” - “hm…” - “say it” - “i’m all yours”]
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While slightly spiteful, your plan had been simple and had about a 50/50 chance of succeeding, with minimal loss to you if it didn’t.
Two weeks ago Gojo Satoru had— after months of asking for it and being denied by you— finally gotten your permission to drink your blood. So he’d gone ahead and bitten you, you’d loved it and probably fell even more annoyingly head over heels for him as a result of the oddly erotic experience, and the way he had acted during the whole ordeal gave you a decent indication that he most definitely felt the same way you did.
You’d expected things to finally change between you after that, hell you’d actually been excited for it.
But instead of leaning into the shift in the dynamic between you, Satoru had instead decided to pretend you didn’t exist and proceeded to completely avoid you for the last two weeks.
(Which is actually quite the feat considering how much overlap there is between your friend groups. But you’re not impressed. You’re mad.)
To say you were upset would be an understatement. Your pride was wounded along with your ego, and you felt foolish and embarrassed and stupidly angsty. The unfortunate reality is that you’re not very good at processing those feelings, so in your time of need you turned to your most faithful, long-time friend: spite.
You know for a fact that Satoru likes the way you smell and taste– it’s one of the many things he’d let slip when sucking the blood ever so gently from the puncture he’d made in the soft flesh of your inner forearm. So you decided to wait until the prime part of your cycle, where the supernatural consensus said humans smelt their best, and you’d procured a tincture from your witch-in-training friend that would accentuate the natural appeal of your blood for certain creatures of the night (she’d assured you it was safe, but you have your own means of defending yourself anyway so you aren’t too worried.)
Then, you’d waltzed your way into a party that was being held at his shared accommodation and made it a point to have fun. The real goal of your plan, besides sticking it to him in the most subtle-not-subtle way ever, was also just to feel better about yourself. Your expectations being upended regarding how you’d hoped things would develop with Satoru had been a big blow and would take some TLC from yours truly to recover from.
You’ve had fun so far, you’re only a drink or so in and pleasantly buzzed, and you’re getting a lot of compliments on your perfume. You can’t exactly tell them you’re not wearing anything but eau de spite, but it does feel nice nonetheless. Each comment is like a balm to your poor, chafed ego. The only wrench in the works is that as expected, not long after you arrived, Satoru noticed you.
And then proceeded to continue in his efforts to avoid and ignore you. He’d disappeared into the throng of people on the other side of the house before you could even blink.
It takes a strongly mixed cocktail, courtesy of Shoko who you’re not sure isn’t trying to kill you with the alcohol content of these drinks, for you to settle your fuming. This is stupid— no, he’s stupid. Stupid sexy vampire with his stupid pretty eyes and stupid pretty face. How dare he let you make a fool of yourself by thinking there could be anything more between you! You never should have let him bite you. At least then things would still be the same and you wouldn’t be so torn between throttling him and kissing him.
Angrily, you take a hearty gulp of your drink. Despite the superficial fruity flavour it burns on the way down, unsurprisingly, and you have to breathe slowly through your nose so it doesn’t come back up. You’re no longer uncertain; you’re confident this cocktail is an attempt on your life.
It’s as you’re nursing that drink and leaning angstily against a wall in the corner of the room, that you sense someone approach you. Your eyes take a moment to adjust as you look up, surprise filtering through you once you register the figure by your side.
“Hey.”
Your brows shoot up, a small grin tugging your lips. “Oh? Long time no see, Mei Mei. What cave have you crawled out of to be here tonight?”
The snow-haired woman rolls her eyes, lips twitching. Her tongue darts to swipe over the tip of a pointed canine.
“Oh, you know, every homebody has to come out to play every once in a while.” Her nose twitches, and she leans forward slightly to inhale. Her eyes flutter wide in pleasant surprise. “Well, don’t you smell absolutely divine tonight. Special occasion?”
Kind of, but you’re not about to tell her that. Mei Mei can be a decent enough acquaintance so long as you keep her at arm’s length.
“I’m trying something new,” you answer simply. She hums, and when her body angles towards you again ever so slightly you become aware of the most odd, prickly sensation. It tickles the hairs at the back of your neck, and you fight the peculiar urge to turn and look around. All you’d see is dancing bodies and stumbling drunks, anyway.
“It suits,” Mei Mei purrs with a smile that makes you a little nervous. Music throbs against your body so strongly that for a moment you’re not sure whether the beat you’re feeling in your chest belongs to your heart or the song. “Though you ought to be careful going on campus smelling like that. You’ll lure in every bloodsucker in a five-mile radius.”
You suppose that means the tincture is doing its job. The way her eyes are appraising your pulse points keeps you feeling nervous, though. Perhaps… it wasn’t the best idea to make yourself smell so scrumptious after all. There are more than a few loose canons in the area.
It’s a little too late for regrets now, though. At this point you just gotta double down and own the decision.
“Noted,” you say, taking a hearty sip of your death-in-a-cup. The burn is now a pleasant distraction. You smile at Mei Mei and feel that prickly, hot feeling increase tenfold. What is that?!
The sensation has your heart rate elevating slightly, and it must make the aroma of your blood a little stronger because the vampire before you lets out a soft groan, her eyes fluttering shut. Almost like it’s instinct, she takes a step closer and leans her head towards the crook of your neck. Your startle is almost imperceptible, and you’re thankful that the top you opted for is one that saved the neck exposure for a well-placed boob window instead. The fabric covering half the expanse of your throat is probably the only reason you don’t freak out at her actions.
Her nose brushes your skin, dragging up the column of your throat until it flirts with the bottom of your earlobe. Your heart skips a beat before tumbling into a full gallop. It’s different to how it felt with Satoru— you don’t like this nearly as much. Your legs tense with the urge to leave.
“Really,” she says, purring your name. “You’ve got me feeling quite peckish. Won’t you let me have a little sn–“
A grip winds around your wrist like a vice, not painful but certainly unforgiving. Startled, you look up and see the person of the hour, the vampire you went to all this effort to torment in the hopes he would want you again. Wow, it doesn’t sound great when you think of it like that. The alcohol is certainly not helping your self-esteem right now.
Satoru’s pretty baby-blues are dark, pupils blown wider than you’ve ever seen before, and his entire body is riddled with tension. He almost looks like the slightest pressure would have him snapping in half. His jaw is locked tightly, and he hisses through clenched teeth and descended fangs.
“Come with me. Now.”
You don’t get the chance to bid Mei Mei farewell, not that you really want to, and the last thing you see as you’re dragged out of the room is her waving a manicured hand your way, mouthing a playful ‘goodbye’. She looks far too amused for your comfort.
Right now, Satoru is nothing like the cheeky, carefree, shit-stirring bastard you’ve come to know and love. That isn’t to say you’re completely opposed to it, because the way he looks like know is a pretty big turn-on. But still – the difference is startling. You’re not sure how to navigate the situation.
Before you know it you’ve been unceremoniously relocated to his bedroom, and he is pressing you against the door the second it closes behind you with a heavy, loud THUD.
For a moment, the only sound that fills the space is that of the music beyond the wooden barrier. The bass is no longer indistinguishable with your heart beat – the stuttering rhythm that echoes against your rib cage is all you.
Satoru inhales deeply as though to calm himself down, only to let out a long, low groan immediately after. The sound affects you more than it probably should, heat winding pleasantly up your spine.
“What was that?” He demands, brows snapping together. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s most likely referring to Mei Mei being horny on main just before. His massive frame boxes you in against the door in such a way that you’re almost embarrassed by how much it makes your tummy flutter.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you breathe, chin tilted up as you hold his gaze. Something feral flickers through his expression.
“Oh, don’t be cute.” The words snap into the air, causing your breath to hitch. Satoru’s eyes flick to your forearm, where the slightest bruise still remains from the last time you were in close quarters like this. He swallows, piercing gaze returning to your own.
“I told you.” Satoru’s words leave in a snarl, his fingers firm against the flesh of your hips. His own body is so close to yours that you can feel the heat of it, the tingle of electricity that arcs between you. “That I would be able to smell it if another vampire so much as breathed near you. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you getting chummy with one in my own home?”
You can easily recall him saying that to you almost a fortnight ago, when he had been commenting that he could tell you hadn’t been bitten before thanks to his sharp senses and all that. You didn’t think he was lying. You are surprised that he cares, though. Something like indignation bubbles beneath your lungs, because how dare the bastard spout that shit when he just spent the last two weeks since your ‘encounter’ pretending you didn’t exist.
“Not sure why you give a shit,” you retort, squashing down a whine that begins to rise in your throat when his hips begin to press into yours. “Seemed like you were done with me after you finally got that taste you wanted so bad.”
His brows scrunch together, appearing confused for a second amongst the agitation on his features. You decide to fill the gap in the conversation on his behalf.
“I really was just a Sip ‘n’ Dip to you, huh,” you scoff, letting your head fall back against the door. His eyes snap to the column of your throat, more of which is now exposed. “At least now I know the only thing you want from me is my blood. Really saved me some grief there, Satoru.”
“Excuse me?”
When your eyes slide back to his face, he looks like you’ve physically struck him. His fingers dig into your hips almost out of habit, just shy of being painful. Anger still bubbles beneath your sternum, and you glare at him.
“By the way, as far as I’m aware, biting me once doesn’t give you any exclusive rights to my blood, so where the hell do you get off getting so shitty because someone else took a whiff–“
Satoru snaps.
“I don’t just want your blood,” he snarls, lips curling away from pin-prick sharp fangs. He has the nerve to look insulted. “I want you, you stupidly oblivious pain in my ass. All of you.”
He then leans in, erasing any foreign scents lingering on you and replacing it with something of his own, whatever pheromone bullshit vampires do. You’re too busy trying to stop your heart from having palpitations to focus on it too much because what the fuck did he just say—
“Do you have any idea how close I am to losing myself to a frenzy, like a fucking fledgling?!” His lips brush over the pulse point at your neck, and then teeth, razor-sharp and full of promise, drag over the skin of your clavicle, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You shiver, flushing with heat and desire. The threat of another bite is already enough to have your body reacting in memory of how the last one felt. You want him, god you want him so, so badly.
“I haven’t fed since then because I can’t get the taste of you out of my head, and I can’t stomach anything else. I can’t stop thinking about the noises you made when I sank my teeth into you, and the scent of absolute desire that filled the entire fucking room the second the venom kicked in for you.” Satoru’s words are punctuated by a prick just below your collarbone, the brief sting eliciting a gasp. Warmth begins to trickle thinly from the site and is quickly staunched by a press of his tongue, and he moans. You’re so painfully aroused that it nearly makes you dizzy. He groans, long and suffering. “Just like now.”
He moves lower and lower, hauling you off the floor and completely into his hold so his mouth can reach your chest without stooping. Suddenly in the air, you can’t help the way you yelp and wrap your legs tightly around his hips – which, in turn, presses the heat of your core against the very prominent bulge there. You both echo a groan.
“Coward,” you manage to pant, out of sheer spite if nothing else. “Stupid idiot. I clearly want you. I literally could not have been any more obvious, you’re so –“
His teeth sink into the exposed top of your breast, retracting once they puncture deep enough to get a good flow. Then, he latches firmly onto the flesh, sucking it into his mouth. The act startles a moan out of you, the venom from the initial bite already transmuting the pain into heady pleasure and sending heat through your veins, all while kicking your heart into an even faster beat. Perhaps one of the best perks of the venom is that after that first dose settles in, the only part of the process left for you to feel is pleasure.
Even while you’re unable to help the way your hips roll into his own, and unable to ignore the feral, sinful moans vibrating against your chest as he suckles the wound he made and drinks from you, you manage to continue insulting him.
“You’re so stupid, why the hell did you avoid me for two weeks huh?” A moan breaks up your complaint as he swipes his tongue in broad movements over the bite, his hips snapping into yours and pressing you further into the door. The wood creaks, but neither of you pay it any mind. You can barely function around the incredible sensation of his cock grinding against you through layers of clothing. “All you did was send mixed messages and piss me off and, ngh fuck–“
He pulls back enough that you can see the flush in his face, the feral gleam in his eyes and the smear of blood over swollen lips. His brows are furrowed, but he’s too besotted by the taste of you to have as much heat behind his glare as he did previously.
“There are some things you can’t take back,” he grits out, tongue coming to clean the red from his lips. Your heart stutters, pulse thudding in your ears. “Especially for my kind. If I didn’t stay away, I probably would have ended up doing one of those things.”
Your core positively throbs with need, clenching around nothing. The extent to which you want him right now has you more irritable than usual. “Satoru, I wouldn’t have let you drink from me if I wasn’t interested in everything else it would entail—“
“You don’t understand,” Satoru groans, freeing a hand to rip at the material of your shirt. Clawed fingertips slice through with ease, taking out the bra straps underneath as well. He makes quick work of the band beneath your chest and the underwear is then torn from your form and thrown somewhere in the background. The material of your top remains, and he yanks it down below your aching breasts, watching with rapt attention as they bounce free heavily. Barely allowing you time to moan, he lifts you higher in his arms and dives down to drag his teeth over the swollen globes. He nips and nibbles across the sensitive skin, eliciting all sorts of sounds from you and an unbearable amount of desire that shoots straight between your legs. You can feel slick arousal trickling from your aching cunt with each new miniscule bite Satoru delivers, but honestly at this point you’re too horny to be embarrassed.
“I already want everything you can give me, and more.” He bites the inside of your breast and the flesh gives easily beneath the razor-sharp point of his fangs. One of his hands comes to grip the other side of your chest while he laps and sucks at the blood welling in the wound. Your nipples are painfully hard and you feel like you could cry in relief when his long, nimble fingers begin to deliver them some much-needed attention. “I want every single part of you and I don’t want to share. This is the way I am built. I can’t do this with you again and let you go afterwards. I want you to be mine.”
You probably shouldn’t find that as romantic as you do, but aren’t really in a position to psycho-analyse your response right now. It’s not all that surprising, either, since you recall someone mentioning to you before how strongly vampires bond with their partner when they finally make their choice. As it happens, his confession serves to not only make your heart soar but your pussy throb. You’ve been pining for this man for years, so even amongst the haze of lust clouding your mind you don’t have to think about how to respond to it.
This is, after all, the solution you were hoping for two weeks ago.
“I don’t want you to let me go, or take anything back. Please bite me again, mark me up–” You pause to gasp, Satoru having shoved your skirt up to bunch around your hips. Your panties are gone a split-second later, likely discarded in the same manner as your bra, and the hand that was at your breast is now trailing your slit and gathering all the slick that has pooled there. His middle finger dips in, causing a stutter in your breath. You lean forward to whisper in his ear, snowy strands of hair tickling your cheeks as you do so. “And please, please fuck me, Satoru.”
Something snaps in him, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.
A feral snarl escapes him, a gravelly “fuck” the only warning you get before his teeth sink down just above your nipple, fangs retracting once blood wells to the surface, and he pulls both the wound and your stiffened peak into his mouth, sucking hard. There isn’t a single ounce of pain, only the white-hot pleasure that shoots to your clit and has you keening as a result, hands scrabbling for purchase along his broad shoulders. That free hand that was at your slit has made quick work of his pants and is now guiding his scalding member to slap against your clit, and then press against your entrance while you recover from the shock of pleasure.
You expected him to be well-endowed, and you’re not at all disappointed. Satoru’s cock is fat and long, and with one roll of his hips it spears right into you. There is no resistance, you’re far too aroused and wet for there to be any, but the feeling of being split open by such a monster quite literally knocks the breath out of you. You hardly recognise the noise that escapes you as one of your own, hands gripping the vampire’s hair and shoulder so tightly you’d be worried about hurting him if he was human. He isn’t, though, and without even noticing your grip continues drinking from you while latched to your breast, tongue pressing and rolling your aching nipple all the while.
A second is all you get to adjust to the foreign length inside you before Satoru rolls his hips back with a moan, the fat head of his cock dragging against your walls as he does so, and then slams it back in. He builds a rhythm immediately that is almost animalistic in its desperation and fervour, each thrust firm and hitting so deep inside that you honest to god think it has you seeing stars. Whines and moans tumble from your mouth, no longer able to be held back when the only thing your brain can comprehend is the sheer pleasure and ecstasy that burns and sparks along your limbs. He begins to hit a certain spot when he fucks up into your heat that has you clenching around him, slick gushing forth.
“FUCK.” He rips away from your chest to tilt his head back in a rough, stilted moan, his hands gripping and digging into the meat of your thighs where they melt into your ass. In the absence of his mouth, blood begins to dribble down the swell of your breast. His crystalline eyes are hazy and blown out in lust, brows drawn together and expression twisted in pleasure, his breath coming in pants. He is visibly barely holding it together, completely drunk on the taste and feel of you– and it simultaneously is the hottest and sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. “Yes, fuck, squeeze me just like that.”
You oblige, relishing in the full-body shiver that tears through him in response. He bites your name out amidst a tortured groan, hands shifting to your hips. His mouth returns to clean up the mess he left on your breast, lips latching around your nipple to suck and pull once more, and it’s almost enough to distract you from the way he suddenly begins to lift you by the hips and drop you back down on his cock in time with his thrusts. Almost. You have to bite back a scream at how fucking good it feels, the pressure and pace and just how full you feel. You can feel yourself rapidly beginning to come undone.
With the combination of his venom’s aphrodisiac effects and the sheer amount of time you’ve spent longing for this, you don’t imagine you’re going to last much longer. If the unforgiving pace of Satoru’s hips is anything to go by, you estimate the same to be the case for him.
He groans into your chest, releasing your breast to bounce in time with his thrusts, the action accompanied by an almost audible pop, and shifts his hold to free a hand. The pressure of two fingers against your clit has you crying out, body jerking at the sudden rush of pleasure – your head whips down to find him already looking at you, gaze swinging from the juncture of your thighs to your eyes. Evidently pleased by the expression he finds on your face, he continues his circling of your clit and leans his head down to trail kisses from your already-healing chest, up the column of your throat, across the line of your jaw, until he finally arrives at your lips.
“Mine,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours in a feather-light caress. His baby-blue eyes are lidded heavily and almost dazed, coherent thought lost to the throes of pleasure and his most simple instincts. He nicks your lip at the same time as he angles a particularly wonderful thrust, the head of his cock hitting against that spot that makes you see stars and release a loud, wanton cry. “You’re all mine.”
You pull back to nod rapidly, unable to form words when all you can think – all you can feel – is the throbbing pleasure of his cock splitting you open with each heavy thrust. His head follows, lips seeking your own once more. The kiss is hot, and needy, and his oversized canines scrape your bottom lip more than once, and yet all you can do is return the fervour in between moans and whines. His hand is still at work between your legs, and you feel in your bones that you’re really not going to last much longer at this rate.
Satoru releases your mouth with a final nip, and moves his head to nestle it in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He groans, low and long, and the vibration turns to a shiver as it travels over your skin. His lips begin to move.
“Say it.”
You struggle to think let alone figure out what he wants, lost in the current of your rapidly approaching orgasm. His fingers pick up speed, aided by the generous amount of arousal still gushing from your pussy in between thrusts. It takes everything you have not to scream, your hips bucking.
“Say it,” he says again, an oddly uncertain note infiltrating his rumbling gasp. He utters your name while nosing at your throat and you feel yourself melt. “Please, say it.”
Realisation as to what he is looking for hits you at the same time as your orgasm. “Fuck! I’m– I’m yours, all yours! God, fuck—“
Satoru’s pace stutters, undone by your pussy clenching and throbbing around him in a fight to keep him inside, and it takes him a moment to recover before he begins to fuck into you again in earnest, movements growing sloppy and frantic but no less punishing. It all serves to prolong the wave of absolute bliss you’re riding in the wake of what has to be the strongest orgasm of your life. Those vampiric toxins are no joke.
You wind your arms around his neck, clutching him close and trying not to lose your mind as he fucks up into you, the drag of his cock against your walls somehow even more delicious than before. He mouths at your neck, hips beginning to stutter once more. You clench around him, and he breaks. There is barely enough time for a curse to escape his mouth before its clamping on your neck, teeth digging in deep— deeper than he’s ever bitten you before— and tingling heat spreading out from the puncture sites. He gives one, two, three final, dragging thrusts, body trembling and muscles taut, before his cock throbs and he buries it inside you, spilling into you with a deep, rumbling groan against your throat.
Soft, panting moans escape you as his hips continue to roll into you softly, riding out his orgasm, and you bite back a wanton groan as you feel his cum beginning to trickle out around his softening member. As soon as he comes back to his senses to a degree, he has the presence of mind to navigate the two of you to the bed before he loses strength in his legs, his mouth slipping from your neck after he laves his tongue over the wound to seal it. Unceremoniously, he drops the two of you against the mattress, but surprisingly keeps you snugly in his hold and his length still buried inside you. Ignoring how hot that is, you decide to view the action from a purely romantic light and nearly melt into the mattress.
Vaguely, you register the thumping club beats still booming beyond the confines of the room. Evidently the party was still ongoing.
“This wasn’t how I planned for today to go,” he admits, after a few beats of contented silence. He nuzzles his face to your chest, dragging his nose across your collarbone. “I was going to talk to you tomorrow morning.”
You snort; that’s likely.
“… This is how I planned for today to go, though.”
He huffs a laugh before pressing his lips together, clearly trying not to enable you further. He allows for another few moments to pass, and in that time you let your own eyes flutter closed.
“You can’t change your mind, by the way,” he says suddenly, tone odd. You open your eyes and turn to see his crystalline gaze directed to your neck, where the latest of his bite marks sits proudly. “I may have done one of those things I can’t take back.”
You’re not sure how to tell him it’s not as bad of a thing as he thinks it to be.
likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 lmk what you think!
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alt-vera · 1 year
Note
If you’re taking Joel requests, can I suggest a pre-virus where you’re being a good neighbourly citizen and always bringing him extra food you’ve cooked when you know he’s had a late shift (for Sarah and him) and one night there’s a knock at your door and he returns the favour of gifting you food, when Sarah’s at a friends house, so he stays for dinner and gets to know you except the dinner also comes with some slutty Joel
— cowboy take me away ⁀➷
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joel miller is surprised by how kind his new neighbour is. he decides he has to find a way to repay her.
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♡ | joel miller | 2.5k | ❛ cowboy take me away - the dixie chicks ❜
warnings: preoutbreak!joel miller. mentions of food/eating. thigh-riding. fingering. praise. piv sex. age gap. mdni.
note: very lowkey channeling that scene where jess brings rory food in gilmore girls n denies it was from him <3
❝ i wanna be the only one, for miles and miles, except for maybe you and your simple smile ❞
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JOEL HADN’T EXPECTED HIS NEW NEIGHBOUR TO BE SO… NEIGHBOURLY.
 Sure, he’d offer the polite wave and greeting every time the two of you would leave your houses at the same time, have small conversations when getting the mail, even sending out the offer to help you fix anything wrong with your new place.
 But Joel never imagined that he’d come home after a late shift to Sarah telling him how earlier you’d dropped off food for the two of them, and he certainly didn’t expect for it to become a common occurrence.
 It’s almost as if you had a sixth sense for when he’d be working late and couldn’t make Sarah a proper dinner. Or maybe you were just observational.
 At first, Joel was hesitant. Sure, he knew you, but he didn’t know you. What if you were some psycho freak who put poison in the food just for kicks?
 But one cautious bite into the dinner you made, and Joel knew that wasn’t the case. This food was prepared with heavy TLC; tender love and care.
 After two weeks of your graciously received meals, Joel decided to return the favour. He’d whipped up a hearty pasta salad, excusing it as a reason to use the stray veggies in the fridge for a nice summertime meal. You also seemed the healthy type; he’d snuck peeks of you doing yoga in your backyard multiple times, sports bra and leggings doing nothing to hide your figure.
 As he hovered his meaty fist over the solid wood of your door, the first pins of doubt began to needle him. Was this weird? Joel hadn’t been able to acknowledge your kindness at all, simply because he hadn’t seen you since you began your nearly daily meal runs. It was almost as if you were a ghost, dropping the food off to Sarah and disappearing into the simmering sunset.
 ‘No,’ He finally decided. ‘I’m simply returning a favour.’
 He rapped at your thick door, the knocks echoing through the quiet neighborhood being painted by the hues of the sunset. A soft summer breeze flowed around him, cradling him with the smell of lilacs and faint barbecue.
 He tried not to jump when you answered the door almost instantly, a smile gracing your youthful features as your eyes scanned him. He suddenly felt very subconscious in his worn grey tee and ratty jeans. He shifted his weight in the soles of his workboots.
 “Joel Miller,” You greeted, elation present in your voice. “What can i do for you?”
 You didn’t address your dinner droppings at all, and Joel struggled to not let his eyes crinkle in confusion at that. Maybe it wasn’t you doing it? Or maybe you wanted to leave the simple kindness at that. Simple.
 Maybe he was overthinking everything, given he’d been there for only a minute.
 “I, uh, brought this for you,” He said gruffly, awkwardly holding out the tupperware filled with his delicately cooked pasta salad.
 “Come on in,” You welcomed, waving him into the house and shutting the door behind you. He took in his surroundings, breathing in the smell of lavender and linen, noticing how clean your house was despite being moved in for less than a month. He’d figured there’d still be boxes scattered around, like there was when he first moved into his house with Sarah, but everything was pristine and spotless.
 “Did Sarah put you up to this?” You asked, disappearing into the house. Joel took this as a cue to follow you, dinner still in hand as he clumsily shook off his heavy boots, listening to the sound of your voice to find you. “I told her you guys didn’t need to do anything in return. I just wanted to be helpful.”
 “Uh, yeah, she did,” Joel replied. A big fat lie. He did this entirely of his own volition. “Said I should return the kindness.”
 “Well, you might as well join me,” You replied softly, and Joel watched as you already moved to the cupboards, grabbing plates and cutlery. “Is it just you? Or should i grab another place setting for Sarah.”
 “No, she’s stayin’ the night at a friends house,” He replied, sitting down in the oaky chair at your kitchen table, putting the food down carefully, as if it were glass and he were afraid to drop and break it.
 You brought the place settings to him, and he watched you as you neatly organized everything, the smell of fresh flowers tickling his nose from the vase in the centre of the round table.
 You even went as far as to serve the food for him, pouring him a glass of water and making sure he had everything he needed before serving yourself and sitting down to eat.
 Joel tried not to relish in the domesticity of it all.
 “You really don’t need to bring us food,” He said after swallowing a bite of the meal, the sweetness of bell pepper lingering on his tongue. “Sarah can cook—well, she can cook grilled cheese and use the microwave, and that’s about it, but—“
 “No, no, I don’t mind,” You replied, smiling at him before taking a quick sip of water. “Sarah told me it was just the two of you, and I usually make too much anyway. I’m used to cooking for a big family, and now that i’m by myself…” You trailed off. “Well, i guess i’m just not used to portioning for one.”
 “Big family?” Joel prompted after a moment, not wanting silence to dig it’s sharp claws into the comfortable atmosphere around the two of you.
 You nodded. “Yup. Three brothers, all on sports teams. My mom worked a lot, ‘cuz she was an RN, so i’d have to make a lot of food for those knuckleheads. Learned how to barbecue at a very young age.”
 A chuckle escaped Joel at that. “Yeah, I know the feeling. My brother Tommy, well, he was on the football team. I mean, i was too, but boy he could turn a family sized meal into a meal for one.”
 The conversation flowed easily as the two of you ate. Talking about family, and the past, and the present. How the job Joel was currently working on was taking longer than it should. How you were settling into the neighbourhood.
 After the plates were cleared you set a chilled beer in front of Joel, the condensation beading and running down to create a wet ring on the top of your table.
 As he reached for a sip from the now half-empty bottle he winced, a sharp pain shooting through the muscles in his shoulder.
 “Bum arm?” You asked, and Joel nodded silently.
 “Been given me trouble for a few days now,” He mumbled, turning the cuff in a sloppy circle. “Must’ve pulled a muscle or somethin’.”
 You pulled your chair to him, the legs scraping loudly against the floor. “Here, let me see,” You offered, gently taking his arm into your hands.
 “I’m a physical therapist,” You said softly, as if to explain your actions. Joel tried to ignore the smell of your perfume, and the soft tingles your feather-light grip left in it’s wake as you gently stretched his shoulder.
 You pulled your hands away, and Joel’s arm suddenly felt very cold, goosebumps raising on his skin.
 “Is that better?” You asked with a lopsided grin.
 Joel nodded, eyes studying your face now that he was closer to you. He traced your nose with your eyes, zeroing in on the slight tint on your cheeks and the way your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked. How your lips turned as you smiled, and how the faint beginnings of crows feet settled into the corners of your eyes.
 Without thinking, he kissed you. It was all too much for him; the floral smells, the proximity, the domesticated actions. It gave him a sense of warmth, drawing something deep within him that longed for someone to share life with. The feeling of home that your presence gave him.
 You kissed back, as if you were waiting patiently this whole time for him to make a move. Your lips melded into his, becoming whole as his tongue moved along yours, muscles twisting and melting into each other. When you pulled away you gazed at him with wide eyes, face heating into a rosy bloom and lips dewy and parted.
 No words left either of you as you led him up the stairs, steps creaking under your feet, and the absent minded thought crossed Joel’s brain that he’d have to come back and fix those steps for you.
 He lost all train of thought, though, when the two of you entered your bedroom. Clothes were tossed lazily onto the floor as you stripped each other, shirts and pants being discarded haphazardly until you both stood in your underwear, bodies tangling.
 Joel laid you softly onto the cotton of your comforter, your head resting against the pattern of bluebonnets on your pillowcases. The air between you held so much raw animosity, such a strong difference from the homey aura you’d created down stairs. Your eyes were wild, waiting for him to decide what he wanted to do you first.
 His breath fanned your skin, hairs raising as he undid your bra, settling between your parted thighs as he gently took one pebbled bud into his mouth, his stubble creating small red marks on your breast in his wake. A light sound escaped you, airy and desperate. His fingers found your other nipple, twisting as he worked.
 He could feel the warmth radiating off your cunt, feel it clenching around his thigh as he pressed his leg against your panties, rubbing slightly to create a delicious friction that had you whispering his name.
 He couldn’t hide his smile at the sounds you were making. He inched himself lower, unlatching from your nipple as he peppered kisses down your stomach to your navel, stopping as he reached the band of your lacy underwear. He traced the fabric, fingers hooking into them as he pulled them down your thighs, calloused pads tracing shapes into the plushness of your thigh.
 You mumbled his name again, and Joel caught your gaze, eyes clouded with hazy lust. “You’ve been treating me so well, baby,” He said wantonly, “Now let me pay ya back.”
 He entered one finger into you, wetness coating him as your gummy walls sucked him in. It didn’t take long until you were ready for another, and as he entered a second digit he pressed a chaste kiss to your clit, sucking it gingerly. A high pitched whine left your lips, and Joel couldn’t resist as he grinned into your pussy.
 He loved the sounds you were making. They sounded like music to his ears, clouding his mind with a foggy lust that kept him on a single-minded train of thought. “Those noises all for me, baby?” He questioned, keen smile still on his lips as he watched you writhe beneath him.
 He watched you nod, mouth coming to form words that died in your throat as he hit a special spot inside of you, your eyes glazing over as you started bucking against his hand, holding his fingers in a vice grip as you came around them.
 “Please, Joel,” You breathed out after you recovered from your winded state. Your dainty fingers found the band of his boxers, curling around it as you looked up at him with pleading eyes.
 “I wanna hear ya say it,” He teased, watching as your eyes glanced uncertainly between him and his tented underwear.
 You hesitated for a moment before the words tumbled between your swollen lips. “Please fuck me, Joel.”
 Joel groaned as he lewd sounds left your mouth, nudging your hands aside to replace them with his own, quickly working himself out of his boxers. The simple way you said his name was enough to get him worked up.
 He palmed himself, running his hand over his cock to stroke himself skillfully, a drop of precum leaking from the fat tip. He pulled you closer to him by your hips, leaving prints that would be sure to mark you come tomorrow. He dragged his length through your folds, collecting the sloppy wetness that had accumulated.
 He began to push in, slowly, giving you time to adjust. You braced yourself, in turn your cunt began clenching around him, the tightness making it nearly impossible for him to continue to enter you.
 “You’ve gotta relax, baby,” He cooed gently, his thumb releasing pressure to rub tight circles around the jutted bone of your hip. You melted into his pleasant touch, relaxing just as he asked. He pushed himself further into you, your warm walls stretching around him. “That’s it. Good girl.”
 He continued to rub those soothing circles into your skin as he pressed himself into you, hips meeting as he reached the hilt. You let out a shaky breath, the pain of being spread soon turning to a dull pleasure.
 “Move, please,” You begged, and Joel was sure to give in right away, hips rolling indulgently against yours as you let out sounds of satisfaction. Your noises spurred him on further, and his gentle rolls soon turned into harsher snaps, heavy balls making sinful slaps against your bare skin.
 “Joel!” You exclaimed lewdly at his rougher actions, his thumb coming to brush your clit as you squeezed him, pleasure coursing through your veins.
 “So well, baby,” He murmured, barely being heard over the sound of skin on skin. “You’re takin’ me so well.”
 He changed his angle into one that mimic his fingers earlier, finding that spot inside you that had you cursing and clenching around him, eyes lolling back into your head as you squeezed your eyes shut, high over taking you. You felt as though you were in the clouds, wild blue sky washing you in it’s waves.
 Seeing you come undone from his actions fed Joel into his own orgasm, rutting into you tirelessly until he felt as though he was about to snap. He pulled out quickly, thick ropes of hot spend coating your stomach as he pumped himself.
 He barely caught his breath before he was grabbing tissues off of your bedside table and wiping up the mess he had made. Only after you were cleaned up did he allow himself to collapse beside you, thick arms pulling you to rest against his bare chest.
 “It wasn’t Sarah’s idea,” He confessed after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “I wanted to make ya dinner.
 “I know,” You replied, voice soft as he felt you smile against his skin.
 “I think i wanna make ya dinner again,” He spoke again, and you lifted yourself up to face him. His deep eyes stared back into your own, the corners crinkling as a grin spread across his face. It was warm, and sweet, like thick honey on a summer day.
 “If it means i can repay you the way you just repaid me, then i’m all for it.”
 You let out an airy laugh as Joel pulled you in for a soft kiss.
 “If it means I can be close to you like this,” He said fondly, “Then i’ll have to start cookin’ for ya more often.”
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random-thot-generator · 10 months
Text
Try a Little Tenderness
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Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem Reader
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Summary: Simon has just returned home in the middle of the night from a mission in less than stellar condition. Understanding that he was in desperate need of some TLC, you put aside the ‘frenemy’ dynamic the two of you usually operate within to take care of him, instead. Your gentle ministrations elicit a reaction that neither of you expect, but perhaps have been yearning for all along.
Warnings: Language, explicit sexual content, touching of naughty bits - Simon gets a helping hand in the bath, fluff and feelings, no Y/N
(A/N: This is a thot connected to an idea I had for a series. Still not sure about the series, but what ev. 
This is just me exploring the intimate relationship between the characters. It is minor smut compared to what I usually write, meant to be a vulnerable moment for Simon, and for reader as well. I dunno, I feel like a certain amount of trust needs to be established before Simon allows himself to be with someone in an intimate way. 
For a little backstory, Reader is Simon’s housekeeper/roommate/frenemy. It’s been platonic up to this point, but there have been some charged moments leading up to this. This is the turning point in the relationship, the first time Simon allows himself to really indulge in reader’s attention and care. Reader and Simon have been living together for about a year by this point but have known each other for almost two. Simon’s pet name for reader is ‘Doll’; reader’s pet name for Simon is ‘Grumpy’.)
Word Count: 2777
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It was almost midnight by the time Simon shuffled through his front door. He was dead on his feet, still wearing the same clothes he put on three days ago, covered in filth and stinking to high hell. He would normally have stayed on base, cleaned up, ate and retired to his quarters to rest, but for some reason, he’d texted you mid-flight to tell you he was on his way back. He hadn’t been expecting an immediate answer, but he got one.
[DOLL]: What’s ur ETA? I’ll wait up 4 u. Have u eaten? 
Simon had hovered over his phone, glancing about the plane, not sure how to respond. He supposed he didn’t have to stay on base. He’d just never had a reason to return home before. He knew he should tell you not to wait up, to go to bed, that he would see you tomorrow, but instead he found himself tapping out a different message.
[GRUMPY]: Landing in twenty. Be home approx 2hrs.
[DOLL]: I’ll be waiting. C u soon.
He re-read the message several times. ‘I’ll be waiting.’ This was new for him, having someone to go home to, having someone there expecting him, waiting up to see him. Sure, he had come home to you before, but not like this. This was... premeditated.
As he closed the door behind him and locked it, he heard your feet padding through the sitting room and turned. He couldn’t help the smile that spread under the balaclava when he saw you. You were dressed in one of his old T-shirts, a pair of flannel sleep shorts peeking out beneath the hem, and a pair of those ugly fuzzy socks on your feet. Your hair was loose and hanging down your back, not quite dry yet from an earlier shower, and your face was free of makeup. He liked seeing you like this better than any other way.
You were looking at him in that direct way that always got to him, assessing him, checking him over. He waited for one of your customary snarky greetings, but instead your brows furrowed.
“You look exhausted, Si. C’mere. Sit down,” you instructed, pointing at the entryway bench. Simon didn’t even hesitate, just did as he was told. He watched you kneel before him and start unlacing his boots.
“Ya don’t got t’do that, Doll. I can―“
“Si, hush,” you murmured, your voice soft and gentle. “I got this, okay? You’re home. Relax.”
He didn’t have it in him to argue, so let you have your way. You removed his boots and stuck them under the bench by his trainers, then stood and held your hand out. “C’mon. You need a bath.”
He let you lead him up the stairs, but instead of taking him to his ensuite bathroom, you led him down the hallway to the bathroom that you used. You motioned for him to sit down on the toilet while you stoppered the tub and turned on the taps. He watched with curiosity as you opened the cabinet below the sink, taking out a glass jar filled with some sort of pinkish granules, sprinkling a generous portion of it into the filling tub.
“Wha’s that?”
“Epsom salts with lavender and eucalyptus. It’ll help ease your sore muscles,” you told him, replacing the jar in the cabinet. You turned to look him over again. “Let’s get you out of those dirty clothes. I’ll get you some clean ones once you’re in the bath. C’mon. Arms up.”
Simon thought about objecting. He was a grown man, he could undress himself, but as soon as he felt your hands on him, all complaints went right out the window. He held his arms out so you could pull the tail of his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans, shivering when he felt your fingers graze his lats as you peeled it up and over his head.
“I smell like shite,” he grumbled, embarrassed for you to be this close to him when he was in such a disgusting state.
You huffed, the sound low and amused. “You smell like a soldier who just got back from deployment. Believe me, I’ve smelled worse.” You motioned for him to stand again. Once he regained his feet, your hands went to his waist, undoing the belt and pulling it free, then you undid the button and fly of his jeans. You pushed them down until they bunched around his knees, then instructed him to lean on you while you tugged them off his legs.
And he just... let you. He had not had anyone care for him like this since his last stint in the medical bay, and that had been a male nurse with hands rougher than his own. He’d not had a woman care for him like this since he was a small boy, when his mother would get him ready for his bath. He felt his chest constrict, almost told you to stop, but your hand on the back of his calf silenced him.
“Foot up,” you said, letting him lean on you again as you stripped off first one sock and then the other. Once you straightened, you placed a hand at the small of his back and gave him a gentle push towards the tub. “I’ll go get you some clean clothes while you get in,” you said, then stooped to gather up his dirty things. “Be back in a minute.”
You left him staring after you, disappearing down the hallway. He turned back to the tub, eyeing the hot water lapping at the sides. Aromatic steam rose from its surface, too tempting to ignore. Pushing his underwear off his hips, he let them drop on the floor and stepped out of them, then climbed into the tub.
He groaned long and low as the hot water enveloped him, certain he had never felt anything better in his whole life. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head back on the edge, only then realizing that he still had on his balaclava. He hesitated for a moment, then reached up and pulled it off as well, dropping the dirty hood on top of his underwear. Fuck it. You’d seen his face before and hadn’t made a big deal out of it, didn’t even comment on it, really, just took it in stride like you did everything else.
He cracked an eye open when you re-entered the room, watching as you placed his clean clothes on the counter next to the sink. You opened another cabinet and removed some towels and a washcloth, glanced over at him, then opened a drawer and took out what looked like a pack of wipes and a squat, plastic jar with a pink lid. You brought it all to the tub with you and knelt by the side, near his head. You held up the pack of wipes and pointed at the black paint around his eyes.
“Figured these would help take that gunk off. I’ve got some cold cream, too. Can I...”
You wanted to touch his face. His mouth dropped open to say no, but then he closed it and swallowed. You were looking right at him, a normal expression on your face, not flinching away or averting your eyes. If it didn’t bother you, then he would allow it. For now. He gave a slow nod of assent.
You opened the pack of wipes and set them beside you, then opened the cold cream. “Lean your head back and close your eyes for me.”
Simon did as he was told, though his brain was sounding a klaxon alarm in his head. He was exposing his throat to someone, was closing his eyes and leaving himself vulnerable to your mercy. Did you see how tense he was? Could you see the muscles spasming as he fought not to move, to push you away, to fend you off like an enemy? Did you understand what this was doing to him right now?
Apparently, you did, at least to some extent. 
“Okay, Si. I’m going to put this cream around your eyes. It will feel cold, so don’t freak out. If you need to stop, just say the word. Alright?”
“Yeah,” he croaked out, waiting, steeling himself for the contact.
The first touch had him flinching, but he forced himself to remain still as you spread the cream around his eyes, working it in with your fingers in small circular motions. When you finished, you set the jar down and picked up the wipes. “I’m gonna clean all this off with these wipes. They’ll feel cold, too.”
This time, he only nodded, more relaxed now. Your touch had been soothing once he’d gotten used to it. It was... nice. He didn’t even twitch an eyelash when he felt the cool pressure of your fingers against his jaw, letting you tilt his head towards you. Your other hand began wiping gently at his face with one of the wipes. They smelled slightly floral, similar to the cold cream; he liked it.
It took several minutes to clean his face, neither of you saying anything. You were patient and methodical, cleaning away all the paint until none of it remained.
“Okay. Done with that,” you murmured, fingers moving from his face to his hair. “I’m going to wash your hair next, okay?”
“Hm,” he hummed in consent, not even bothering to open his eyes.
You wet his hair and then poured shampoo into your palm, working your hands together before placing them on his head. As your fingers curled and began to work his hair into a lather, Simon couldn’t help the low groan that rumbled out. It felt like heaven, the way your fingers massaged his scalp and neck. He could have whined when you stopped, but his breath hitched when he felt your fingertips under his chin, tilting his head back.
“Just need to rinse your hair, Grumpy. Keep your eyes closed.”
Again, he did as you instructed, not offering so much as a grunt of complaint when you rinsed his hair and then used the washcloth to dry his face. You raked your fingers through his hair, noting how choppy and uneven it was. Maybe he’d let you cut it some time, but for now, you would stick to what you knew he would allow.
“How ‘bout I wash your back for you and then I’ll go downstairs and make you something to eat while you finish your bath?”
He blinked his eyes open and stared at you. The steam and trapped heat from the bath were making you sweat, a light sheen making your skin gleam in the warm light. He had the sudden urge to run his thumb up your throat, collect the moisture beading there and taste it. He felt his cock give a twitch of interest below the water and brought his bent knees closer together. Grasping the edges of the tub, he pulled himself in to a sitting position, back bowed towards you.
Pleased to see him so cooperative, you dunked the washcloth in the water and grabbed your body wash, squirting out a couple of dollops. Working the cloth in your hands until you had a good lather, you rested one hand on his shoulder and used the other to slowly scrub the cloth over his back in large circles. You could feel the tension easing out of his shoulders, watched his head tip forward until he finally crossed his forearms on his knees and rested his forehead against them.
When you were done with his back, you didn’t stop, moving up to his shoulders and then down his arm. He leaned back, studying the way you washed each finger, working the cloth between them. You glanced up at him. “Other arm?”
He twisted around and held his arm out to you, resting his wrist on the edge of the tub. You washed it with as much care as you had the other, leaning over the tub to reach his underarm. When you went to slide the cloth away, he caught your wrist and pulled it to the center of his chest. He then closed his eyes and leaned back, letting his head rest against the edge again.
Slow circles worked the lathered cloth over his broad chest and collarbones, and you smiled when he tipped his chin up to let you wash his neck. A soft breath hissed between his lips as your hand dipped below the water’s surface to wash his sides and stomach, his brows ticking together when you brought the cloth back up. He shifted, his knees going wide to lean against the sides of the tub.
You were beginning to feel heat simmering in your lower belly that sent a blush creeping up your neck. “Do, uh... I can wash your legs next. If you like.”
He caught your hand in his, eyes still closed, and pushed it beneath the water again. “Wash here,” he replied, his voice like gravel in his throat.
You held your breath as he guided your hand down to his cock, let him wrap your fingers around its swollen girth and hold them there. His chest was rising and falling, chin tipping forward to rest on it when he felt you grip him tighter. Your lips parted as you gave him a tentative stroke, your breath puffing out in little pants as you watched him let out a shuddering breath, his eyes rolling open to reveal a lust-dazed expression before sliding closed again.
Your hand slid up and down his shaft in slow, even strokes, working him gradually, wanting him to enjoy what you were doing to him. His pleasure incited your own, and you could feel your panties grow damp with your arousal as you watched him slowly fall apart. He was panting now, head lolling back once more, hooded, hazy eyes staring up at the ceiling, his knuckles going white as they gripped the edge of the tub.
Your thighs squeezed together when a wrecked moan tore from his lips as you worked at him beneath the cloudy water, wishing it was clear enough for you to see him as well as feel him. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, the feel of his hot length pulsing in your hand almost too much to bear.
“Ah, fuck...” he huffed out, his back beginning to curl forward. He lifted his eyes to yours, mouth open and panting, a look of near desperation on his face. His hand came up to grip the nape of your neck, drawing you close until his forehead rested against yours, holding your gaze. His nose brushed against yours in an intimate caress, lips almost touching, the two of you sharing the same air. “Don’t stop,” he husked out.
The speed of your strokes increased, your hand slipping up to focus on the head, making his knees draw up as he tensed. You could feel him swelling in your hand, growing bigger and harder as he neared his release. His eyes grew wide, mouth falling open as his jaw went slack.
“It’s okay, Simon,” you whispered to him, “I got you,” and that was all the prompting he needed.
His grip turned into a vice on the nape of your neck as he erupted beneath the surface of the water, and he growled against your mouth, teeth gritting into a snarl as he pulsed in your hand. You didn’t stop stroking him until his eyes closed and grip loosened on your neck, his breaths puffing out in exerted gasps over your lips.
You let him rest against you, not bothering to move or say anything, wanting him to have this quiet moment, to just relax in the knowledge that he was home and safe, that you were here for him. You closed your eyes and let yourself enjoy the moment as well, relishing the quiet, the peace.
Simon’s eyes flickered open, not sure what to expect, only to find your eyes closed, lashes shadowing your cheeks, a gentle smile on your face. You looked so calm, so at peace. You looked... content.
You blinked your eyes open, startled, when you felt the hesitant press of his lips against yours, but you didn’t shy away, instead letting him feel you smile against his lips before you tenderly kissed him back.
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yuri-is-online · 3 months
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Grim being greedy with Yuu's attention and love is pretty cute and very cat of him. Though it would be funny if the guys are the ones getting jealous/are envious of Grim. Image one of them seeing Grim getting held, smooched on his cute little face, and being told what a handsome little man he is. The boy wants that to be him so bad. 🥲
I love the misplaced jealousy trope so much. It's about the contempt, embarrassment, and guilt all rolled up into one package. Anyway have a list:
Not Jealous
Kalim- the only thing he is jealous of is that he is not the one spoiling Grim, he wants to let him know what a special little boy he is too! Look he even brought some crackers-
Trey- has kid siblings, knows how fun they can be to spoil so he doesn't mind. He saves his actual jealousy for other people that try to monopolize your time and assume that since he is so laid back he will just be ok with it.
Lilia- he is too old to be jealous of a practical child, but he is a bit hurt Grim won't let him spoil either of you with some food. He worked really hard on it ˙∧˙
Rook- watching you interact with Grim is truly beautiful, he has so many pictures of the two of you together from different angles in different light and he loves them all. Also I feel like he would be the type to actually like feeling jealous? Like he would write excessively about how beautiful he finds his feelings for you to the point you wonder if he is actually jealous or just... really extra with his obsessions.
Rollo- he doesn't see Grim as competition. Point, blank, period, there is no reason to be jealous of a monster because he doesn't want you to see him as someone who needs babying. If you are going to pepper his face with kisses and tell him he is handsome he wants that to be for other reasons (and hopefully in private he isn't big on pda.)
Deuce- he has this little game with Grim where Grim tries to get him jealous but Deuce waits his turn like a good little boy and gets twice as many kisses and compliments as Grim does. Idiot falls for it every time and Deuce is way to smug about it for Yuu not to notice.
Only a Little Jealous
Ruggie- is aware enough of himself to know he has no reason to see Grim as competition. Everyone likes spoiling kids, even bratty ones, but hey. Ruggie is a greedy guy and he wants to be spoiled by you, even if he is a bit too shy to admit it.
Cater- you spoiling Grim is very camable and Cater loves taking pictures of it; even if he doesn't have your permission to post them he just likes to have them to look at. But on days where Cater is a bit more depressed it can be hard to watch, he needs some tlc to recharge and he will never say he hates seeing it go to Grim- he does hate seeing it go to Grim.
Epel- really wishes Yuu would hang out with him because they think he is cool... but cool guys like being told they're handsome and getting kisses too... right? Well doesn't matter because he does and he is torn between playing cute to get it and hoping he wakes up buff enough to flirt with Yuu the way he wants.
Silver- he isn't aware that he is jealous because he knows why he shouldn't be, he has animals following him around everywhere so it would be hypocritical of him to be jealous of the attention you give Grim. But he is, he really likes your affection and is jealous for it.
In Denial
Vil- world famous super model Vil Schoenheit does not get jealous, people get jealous of him. And he certainly does NOT get jealous of monsters who aren't real rivals for your attention and he does not look at how you spoil Grim and think to himself how nice it would be to be able to be that free with his affection. On a completely unrelated note are you free in about an hour? He has some lipsticks he needs to swatch.
Jade- let's get one thing straight, Jade never gets actually jealous he just pretends to be because it's funny. He definitely is not watching you kiss Grim's little face and actually think of throwing him halfway across campus. Now if you could just look the other way for a second- oh why are you looking at him like that he would never actually hurt Grim. But just to make sure maybe you could buy him off with a kiss? Pretty please?
Sebek- thinks that he is above being jealous but has that ruffled wet cat look complete with the trembling lower lip as soon as he sees you and Grim. He isn't fooling anyone, please also spoil the croco he will call you an idiot but he is only doing that because he is too flustered to talk properly.
Jack- you are his mate, his one and only, the moon in the sky that is his life so why oh why does watching you spoil Grim make him want to die? Maybe it's because it is a bit hard for him to admit when he wants your affection so seeing you be so free with Grim makes those same words bubble up in his throat. Thank goodness he has a tail, otherwise you would never know when he wants a smooch.
Riddle- touch starved? Check. Proud? Check. Obsessed with rules to the point that it makes him a bit stiff when it comes to how he rationalizes his desires for affection? Oh you don't even know. He doesn't realize what he is feeling is jealousy and just assumes Yuu is breaking some sort of rule of social etiquette and that's why he is so mad at Grim. If he gets a kiss out of this he will probably pass out.
Visibly Seething
LEONA- is a petty bitch. He needs to feel like he is in charge and has a weird sort of competition with Grim because of how vaguely feline he is. Leona is the bigger cat so he should be the one Yuu is kissing on and not the whiny baby. leona says fuck them kids
Floyd- Floyd isn't always jealous. Sometimes he thinks watching Yuu spoil Grim is really funny! Just look at baby seal, all whiny and spoiled just like a real baby, so cute ♡ But when he has decided that he, Floyd, is the one who should be receiving kisses the eel is an absolute menace. Running won't help you.
Azul- he is touch starved and repressed and while it should be cute watching you spoil Grim... he doesn't think it is. Or rather he can't, he is too caught up in white knuckling his grip on his cane because oh seas he wishes that were him, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LET THAT BE HIM
Jamil- thinks he is playing it smooth and isn't coming off as jealous at all but he is. I once wrote that he would be jealous of the air you breathe and Grim is much more solid than that. He tries to play off his interruption as him just having had a rough day but Grim knows what he is and is not impressed. he totally sticks his tongue out at grim when yuu isn't looking what a loser
Ace- Grim has this weird game he plays with Ace where he behaves extremely well and gets a bunch of kisses and praise while Ace seethes in the corner until he finally snaps and whines for your attention. Ace does not wait his turn like a good boy and he and Grim are constantly competing for who gets the most kisses.
Malleus- Mal Mal is a bit of a spoiled brat. He hasn't had a lot of friends, so him wanting to be around Yuu and have their attention whenever he wants is natural but... he really isn't the best at sharing. But never mind that isn't his face much more kissable than Grim's child of man? ( ̄ε ̄)
C-c-combo
Idia- no I didn't forget hims shut up. He goes through all four stages in that exact order. Not jealous because Mr. Grim is so cute he deserves all the kissies in the world, to a little jealous because he wishes Grim would let him spoil him too, to in denial because pssh there's no waaay you would ever want to give a weeb like him kisses or think he was handsome, to outright seething because Grim starts making fun of him. He is too brave enough to handle Yuu's affection! He instantly passes out after he gets one kiss
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empyreva · 2 months
Text
Daisies
Summary: All you want is to have ONE nice date with Luke without him sabotaging it in some way--surely a flower meadow is safe
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Word count: 1k
Tags: Fluff, established relationship, fem!reader, Luke and reader are sassy and silly with each other, flirting, teasing, Luke loves getting under your skin, implied sex, vague nudity, 17+
A/N: My thoughts got ahead of me....I liked the idea of reader being like the A type partner and Luke loves messing with her--but you braid flowers in his hair anyway!!
The air is thick with the scents of lavender and honeysuckle--wildflowers dancing with the wind, bending gently but never breaking under the force. Here and there, butterflies and bees dart from flower to flower, sipping nectar lazily.
As you step onto the sprawling expanse of green grass, you can't help but gasp at the scene in front of you. It was like Gaia herself handpicked this location--a sprawling meadow between junctions of neighboring forests, brimming with life. "Wow..." You breathed out, eyes wide with excitement for your perfect picnic date. 
From behind you, the tall grass rustled--a strong arm snaking its way around your waist. Your boyfriend's eyes were pointed ahead, silently contemplating the sanctuary the two of you had found while attempting to get some private time away from the camp. Tugging on Luke's shirt, you enticed him to lean over for a quick kiss before you beckoned him to follow you as you searched for the perfect place to settle down--taking his hand in yours as you ventured further.
"Here's good?" You stopped in front of a small clearing in the field, a patch of dirt stripped bare and empty. Despite being objectively dead, it seemed well-loved, a little TLC would be needed to brush away dust and stray weeds--How many demigods before you had snuck away to this place? The romantic notion alone made your heart flutter.
"Perfect," Luke drawled, giving you a cheeky smile. Enthusiastically, you billowed out the large sheet you had tucked in the small picnic basket--fussing over making sure there were no crinkles in the fabric or sharp rocks underneath it. Watching you bend over and curse as dirt scuffed your pretty white dress had his own thoughts wandering--He honestly couldn't care less about where the two of you ended up.
After deeming everything to be perfectly in place, you dragged Luke down next to you, giggling as he stumbled into a comfortable sitting position. You began to ramble on about something--Luke honestly didn't care much for conversation. He offered you a couple "Mhm"s and "Oh yeah?"s, feigning interest in what you and Annabeth discovered while cleaning out the shed behind Athena's cabin. His eyes flickered down.
Gods, you weren't even wearing a bra.
"Luke--Luke!!" Suddenly you were right in front of him, nose to nose as your eyebrows furrowed. "Are you even listening?"
"Uh-uhm yeah--So uhhhhhh....So what happened after Percy killed that...Lizard?" 
"Tarantula, Luke. And he didn't kill it, he just flung it somewhere and told Annabeth that he killed it," you sighed, pushing your hair back with one hand. Luke felt like he had been pierced through the heart, gazing intently at you as you preened yourself for a moment. "But, anyway, Annabeth was so cute because she..."
"It's a bit hot, don't you think?" He interjected, fingers skirting along the exposed flesh of your thigh--peeking out from beneath your white dress. "Like, I'm actually sooo hot--Aren't you feeling it?" You gasped and pouted, gently pushing his wandering hand back to his side of the blanket. No no, you weren't going to let him win, again. The last time the two of you even tried to leave for a date, he 'accidentally' spilled something all over your shirt so you had to change. In front of him.
"C'mon, Luke, the food's gonna go bad if we start now!" You whined, pointing at the two perfectly crafted sandwiches you made, not to mention the various fresh fruits you packed up for dessert!! Completely ignoring you, Luke shrugged his shirt off from over his head, letting it fall somewhere in the nearby daisies. A smirk danced across his face, noticing the way your gaze immediately diverted the second he was facing you again. His abs had a slight shine to them, his biceps flexing as he pushed himself onto his haunches. "A-Aren't you hungry? We've been walking for like--like an hour!"
"Oh, I'm hungry--starved, even..." Luke pushed the basket out of the way, a slow crawl landing his lips just a breath away from yours. Your breath hitched in your throat, eyes locking with Luke's--Gods he just had this way of getting you right under his thumb. A large hand slipped all the way up your dress, gently massaging the burning-hot flesh of your chest.
"I just have this...craving for something else."
--
"This is fucking amazing, baby," Luke moaned, his fingers dwarfing what remained of his sandwich. His head lay on your bare lap, cradled between your knees as he lounged, free as a bird, basking in the warmth of the sun and summer air. "Best. Sandwich. Ever."
"Thank you," you huffed, one hand massaging his scalp as the other supported your dinner. "You spoilt brat..." Luke frowned at the words that you muttered under your breath, reaching a hand up to flick at your nose.
"Hey!"
"I'm not a brat," he whined, poking at your jaw like a child. "Don't say that."
"Don't say that," you mocked. "Gods, can you ever NOT act like a big baby."
"Just for you, my girl."
You looked down at your boyfriend's handsome face--His mischievous brown eyes sparkled under the soft rays of the setting sun, while his dark curls fell around his forehead in gentle waves. Laughter escaped him as you gave his ribs a soft tickle, and he tried to evade you for a second before you decided that you wanted to try and actually be romantic. Something about these teenage boys...
You turned to your side and reached over, plucking a few daisy blossoms from the ground—a bouquet of white. With a smile, you began delicately threading them through his locks. Some clung tight to his scalp, others drifted lightly to the tips of his curls. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, relishing the sensation of your fingers against his skin--the soft tugging and gentle petting as you crafted a sort of halo.
"My handsome boy," you murmured, hoping to commit this moment to memory. Luke was growing sleepy, you could tell by how his eyes fought to stay open long enough to gaze into yours--the rise and fall of his chest in the rhythm of a euphony of crickets in the distance. He looked so pretty like this, so vulnerable, so trusting. You wished that this day would never end.
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rosedom · 4 months
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"in an open invitation, AETHER and KAEYA have challenged you to . . . (do)n't go chasin' waterfalls
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ⓘ THIS WORK IS FOR 18+ ONLY
✦ㅤㅤ dom!top!gn!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!characters (separate), romantic bedroom setting, squirting, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus (kaeya), so much praise and love, aftercare .
aether and kaeya both need some TLC .
"do you accept, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to confirm."
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Before your boyfriend came home, you had set up the bedroom beautifully. Rose petals adorn the floor to the bed (which your lover will surely bitch about later, for the tedious clean up that it will require), but the bed itself is bare; it's stripped of its main comforter and all the blankets are pushed to the side. But right in the middle of it—right in front of the pillows you had planned to plop your boyfriend on—is an inconspicuous towel.
The towel is thick but soft, fluffy—it had taken quite the mora from your pocket to purchase it with, that's for sure. Its quality is unmatched. You had placed soft scented candles around the room, each in a fire-safe spot. The glow from them illuminates the bed in a soft light, the sight truly enchanting.
Then came the boring part: waiting. You had laid yourself across the bed, busying yourself with a light novel, The Two Musketeers. The candle nearest to you flickers yet gives you steady enough a light to read with.
And then there were footsteps. There were footsteps, and there he was: your boyfriend, right past the threshold, silently staring at you, agape and so-quickly flushed. His breath catches in his throat when he takes in the view, takes in the petals, the soft scent of the candles, you.
You suppose it's time to put down your novel and greet him, no?
✦ㅤㅤ 【 AETHER 】
"I—what is all this?" Aether'd squeak, just slightly, shutting the door behind him with a silent click. He'd look so damn unsure on his feet; beckon him in, won't you? Put your novel aside and step up in a few short strides to grasp those tantalizing hips of his.
You'd walk him back to that bed, the one you so painstakingly set up, all while peppering small kisses on his throat. Cooing, "Your reward for working so hard," playing with the waistband of his trousers. "Let me take care of you tonight."
And just like that, Aether'd so easily acquiesce, surrendering to nothing more than your soft kisses and gentle tongue. Small whimpering moans would escape from his throat as you'd have to move in order lathe attention at the irresistible bob of his Adam's apple—it's not your fault he's just so damn pretty !
Pushing him back to the bed but pause before he can fall on it, softly asking with only a tug of his belt, "Can I take these off, honey?" He'd melt at the pet name—at any pet name, really ! Be sure to butter him up in as many as you can.
But or course, he'd only nod—untrusting of his surely shredded voice—, already beginning to step out of his loose trousers. He would hesitate before doing away with his boxers as well, a small, almost imperceptible string of slick connecting to the cradle of it, seconds before it'd inaudibly snap. You'd have to coo at him, a teasing thing, a gentle, "Oh, Aether," as you'd sidle right up to him and nudge a thigh between his two, clothed knee bumping against his wet cunt, "all this over a bit of kissing?"
He'd try to grumble at you, to say a small, "Shuddap," but it'd be inevitably lost in his mouth when he can't help but grind down into your leg. When his slick smears across the rough fabric of your pants, it'll only prove your—quite perverted—point ! But then he'd ask, all innocent and sweet, looking over his shoulder to the towel on the bed, "What's that for?"
The only way you could possibly reply would have to be an evasive, "You'll see."
Oh, and see he will.
Just—Aether's back on the bed, his ass situated perfectly in the middle of that damn towel, cunt spread open weeping on your fingers. Lil' whimpers and pleas, small "I—please, please !" and other begs would be all he could do when confronted with this all-consuming pleasure.
Make sure to aim your fingers up, the pads of your three fingertips pressing perfectly into the soft bump of his g-spot. His cunt'd be so messy, his cock chubby and throbbing above where you'd be working him open; so make sure to grind your palm into the head of it, gently but surely, applying perfect friction to contrast your ministrations inside him.
Murmur, "so pretty," into his collarbone; ask him, "are you close, honey?" after a thrust that grinds your palm and fingers just right onto, into him. He'd be shaking so obviously, the muscles in his thighs jumping erratically when he'd reply only with desperate nods and begs for more—more pleasure, more of your love, an end to this quickly approaching precipice.
"It—it feels weird—" he'd start to cry for you, your name hot on his lips, as all he could do is grasp at your shoulders and sob so prettily. Relax him, won't you? Kiss his tears away, tell him that it'll be okay, to let go and feel.
Feel he will, as his toned belly would start to tense alongside the rest of his body. He'd be so close—don't you dare change the pace of your hand, be that the even grinding of your palm or the press of your fingers.
"C'mon, honey," you'd have to coo—to soothe him through this unfamiliar feeling of overwhelm, one he's not ever felt before: that is, before you. "Cum for me."
Like the good boy he is, Aether'd cum immediately at those words—except, this time, unlike all those times before, something wet would trickle down your palm.
"Ah—what's—" He'd try to figure out what's happening—why his legs feel so numb, why his entire body feels light and weightless—, so please shush him, soothe his trembling, quaking body and let him revel in the pleasure. All the while, he'd still be squirting in the palm of your hand, your motions making an absolute mess of his inner thighs. Whatever isn't caught in your hand will only trickle down to the towel—blessedly leaving the bedsheets dry and clean—, leaving dark splotches beneath him.
All the while, please tell him how he's your good boy, say, "You did so well for me, honey," make sure he knows that the mess is exactly what you wanted out of that night.
When Aether finally comes down from his high—and oh, what a high it'd be, leaving a puddle beneath his ass and your fingers pruned—, he'd be so, so embarrassed. He'd bring you down to kiss you, all sloppy and tired, as you'd pull your wet hand from him and hold him close.
After it all, your poor traveler'd be all tuckered out, already beginning to doze. Won't you give him a bath, 'nd go tuck him back into bed for me? You're not gonna be getting your own orgasm, but that's alright—you'd probably cum untouched watching him unravel for you anyway.
bro cannot become attuned to hydro and NOT squirt !!
✦ㅤㅤ 【 KAEYA 】
You'd greet Kaeya, first; a gentle, "Hello," to welcome him in. He'd smile at you, a lil' smirk at the edge, and walk in quite self-assured. Giving you only enough time to just set your novel down, he'd already be in front of you.
"What's all this, dove?"
Since he'd be acting so smug, why don't you go ahead and show him who's really in charge, hm? Grab and pull him in by the loops of his belts, making sure to leave him with no other move but to straddle your thighs, your lap. That damning smirk of his would fall immediately. "Oh, y'know."
He most certainly would not know, thank you very much. But that'd be alright; he'll know soon enough.
But before you can get into that, you've gotta butter him up—make sure he knows you've set this all up because you simply adore him. "I love you, Kae."
"I love you, too, but what's—" that train of thought won't do, so you'd have to shush him.
"A surprise, for my favorite calvary captain. Can I not adore my boyfriend?"
"No ! That's not—" The aggravated flush to his cheeks, an almost imperceptible deepening to his dark skin, will be irresistible: kiss it ! Giggle at him gently, kissing his cheeks before you land on his lips. If you two end up kissing for minutes or hours, that's for you to know.
And, as is only natural, that's what'll lead you to having h face down in the pillows, his bare knees absolutely trembling from where they rest on the towel. You'd have your mouth buried in his cunt while your middle and ring finger are buried down to the third knuckle; imagine the taste of him on your tongue as you suckle at where your fingers drive into him, each inward thrust brushing his g-spot.
Ask him, right against his dribbling hole, "Feelin' good?"
Poor Kaeya would only be able to babble mindlessly, face mushed into the sheets as it is as he nods vehemently. Smothering breathless, "Yes, yes, yes," into a pillow, he'd be whining and crying for you to give him more.
Who would you be to deny him the pleasure he so deserves? Lean up—not without kissing his cunt goodbye—and fold yourself over the strong planes of his back, and murmur sweet nothings right into his ear as you nudge a third finger into his weeping hole. Every whisper of "beautiful" will send him trembling; each "my gorgeous boy" will make him arch so prettily beneath you; and, not to forget, every "perfect" making him plead for you—for you to fuck him, to push him over the edge.
You won't even need to ask him if he's close because he'll already start blabbering, so loud into your ear as you bend over him more, encapsulate him entirely in your arms. He'd say how close he is, how he's "about to cum, please, please—"
Don't be so cruel as to deny him this release, will you? So when you nod against him, your own words lost underneath his whimpering moans, he'd cum immediately. But you wouldn't stop the motion of your fingers; no, rather, you'll be pumping them harder, faster, as all he can do is openly sob and grasp helplessly at the sheets.
He wouldn't be accustomed to this feeling—not the way his cock is throbbing nor the way his body just won't come down. And then, just like that, all that tension will release, and he'd end up squirting all over your fingers.
"What a good boy for me," you'd simply have to coo. Take your fingers out slowly, lingering on his oversensitive g-spot, and make sure to spread them in the candle-light—sticky wetness stringing obscenely through them.
You'll know when he's come down from the high, for real this time, when he relaxes into the sheets, knees failing him. He'd make a strangled noise—a whimper, a whine: something—when his groin meets a wet towel. You can breathlessly chuckle, so long as he knows it's not at his expense; why don't you make sure to kiss the nape of his neck while you sigh contentedly against his skin.
If he tries to return the favor on you, shush him. Pull him against your chest, heedless of the wet cum between the two of you (that's mainly between his thighs, but is also all over your hand).
do u think cryo men would have colder squirt? lmao i'm jk (unless) . . .
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FJFJDHDJ that was so much more than i intended . . . haha whoopsies ! but also: thank you guys SO MUCH for 120 followers w(゚Д゚)w !! i'm beyond thrilled and honestly v v flattered. i love u and appreciate u guys sm for engaging in my stuff, even if it's just a like/reblog: i treasure them all &lt;33
JAN. 7, 2024. @rosedom, rosey .
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icyg4l · 24 days
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Pick-A-Couple: What Does A Healthy Love Look Like for You?
Hello beautiful people. Thank you so much for the support that you have given me over the past week. I really appreciate it. This week, I will have uploaded some Pick-A-Piles (plural) regarding love since that seems to be a highly requested type of reading. But for today, the topic is all about how you can achieve a healthy love. Now, this will be divided into two parts; for the singles and those who are in relationships. The singles will receive information about how they can achieve a healthy love, and those who are in a relationship will receive information as a checkpoint for comparison! Without further ado, please select your pile!
Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)
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Pile 1A: Alright Singles of Pile One, it feels like you typically wear the pants in a relationship, lol. I don’t feel that this is by choice, but it’s just a role you naturally assume. If you are attracted to cisgendered heterosexual men, they may feel ‘emasculated’ by your ability to lead and take charge. But if this statement does not apply to you, I feel like you just take on the role of the ‘masculine’ roles. You kill the bugs. You fix the holes in the wall. You take out the trash. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But if you’re single and ready to mingle, you don’t have to suffer in silence like a man would, lol. If you would like someone to take on this, then say that. I get the feeling that this pile is full of first born children or children who had to grow up super fast. You should partner up with someone who is willing to take the lead half of the time while looking at you as an equal; not idolizing you or making you feel small. I think that healthy love for you is something that makes you feel like a kid. It’s something that does not feel like a burden or a responsibility. Stop letting people take advantage of you, Pile 1A. Healthy love is something that does not rush its way into your life. Remember that part! I feel that you have a high sex drive as well. You will end up meeting your match. Some of you feel like you will never find someone who is as good as you in the bedroom but this is false. You need to be open and willing to see where life takes you. You do not have to be rigid. Once you let go of all of these expectations for what you originally thought love was, you will find its healthy version made just for you.
Cards Used: The Hermit, The Fool, The Lovers, Three of Wands, Two of Wands, The Chariot, The Hanged Man and Ace of Wands.
extras: big hats. philanthropy. sparkling water. aquamarine (2006). katy perry. flossing. “you can't handle this”. tiger stripes. pharrell and kelis obsession. assertive and passionate. avid reader. poker face.
Pile 1B: This pile is for my people who have been with their people for a lifetime. Are you with someone who you have been with since high school/college, Pile 1B? I think that you have been with your person, supporting them through the ups and downs, trials and tribulations. You may feel as though no one else is for you. But for a healthy love to exist, it is okay to exist outside of your relationship. Things should not get codependent in a healthy relationship. If you cannot leave your partner at home, then please find them a friend! This may sound crazy but distance will help strengthen your relationship. At first, it may seem like the end of the world because y’all aren’t with each other but you’ll quickly realize there’s nothing wrong with this. Another quality of what healthy love looks like for you all is the ability to confront challenges almost immediately. Passive aggressiveness will not solve your problems, Pile 1B. Outward aggression will not help you guys either if there is nothing to channel that energy. Use that energy to defend one another from anyone who has a vendetta against your relationship and move on! And lastly, I feel like you and your partner have to be willing to post one another… For you, sharing your love story to the world is a must and this is literally just for you, Pile 1B.
Cards Used: Ace of Discs, The Hermit (RX), The Sun, Knight of Swords, The Chariot, 10 of Swords, Four of Wands, Three of Discs, 9 of DIscs.
extras: knight in shining armor. kindergarten class. pigtails. kissy face. movie theater candy. sweat stains. a$ap rocky streamer. sims 3 expansion pack. blue-in-the-face. “heart-to-heart”.
Pile 2A: For my single pile 2s! Now I’ve heard about you, Pile 2A. You’re the friend who has the tendency to make excuses for their romantic partner/love interest. You really don’t have to do that, you know? Part of a healthy love is accepting them for who they are. If you have to imagine a different scenario with them, then that’s not your person and quite frankly, they should not be with anyone! Loyalty is something that is owed on both ends, so if they aren’t holding up their end of the bargain, then leave! Forgiveness is not something that should be given to everyone in your case. You have a really big heart and you should be more stingy with it based on what you’ve experienced in the past. A healthy love with you requires patience because what you’ve been exposed to has not been the best. And for that, I’m sorry, Pile 2A. In a healthy relationship, you will achieve harmony and equality. You will be recognized as a person with real and actual feelings. You will not be seen as a trophy or a doormat. It feels like your higher self is activating. They’re telling you not to fall into that same pattern again. Know your worth, Pile 2A and you will attract the love that you deserve.
Cards Used: The Lovers, Knight of Cups (RX), The Hanged Man, Eight of Cups (RX), Strength, The Sun, The High Priestess, Queen of Cups.
extras: “separate”. glassy eyes. weed. monsters under my bed. trauma porn. tiktok storytimes. blossom.
Pile 2B: Everything is going to be alright, Pile 2B. Have you recently gotten into a fight with your significant other? I think it was blown out of proportion to be honest. But the qualities of healthy love for you lie in you and your partner’s ability to resolve issues amicably and directly. I think that if you address things from the beginning, it won’t be as bad. The strength that comes from being vulnerable with one another will grow more intense each time. Similar to Pile 1B, you have to be okay with being by yourself at times. It is okay to be distanced from your partner. Give yourself time to miss them. I also feel that with this pile, you have the tendency to point the finger at your partner when that’s not really necessary. I am channeling the energy of Marcus and Angela. Name-calling one another is not okay! Working through your own personal issues will be valuable at this time. I think that in order for you to be in a healthy union with your partner, y’all may have to separate for a while just to get it together.
Cards Used: 10 of Cups, Death, 9 of Discs, Prince of Discs, Strength (RX), 5 of Cups, The Emperor, 2 of Swords, 7 of Swords, Temperance.
extras: misplaced anger. dark cave. drowning. partynextdoor. water signs. tangent. shrek 2 (2004).
Pile 3A: For the singles of Pile 3! You have it altogether, don’t you?? Pile 3A, it feels like you seem to have all the good qualities of a partner from the outside looking in. You have a life outside of your potential relationship (s). You are established financially. You are clever, intuitive and aren’t afraid to speak up for others. You seem to have a good sense of self too. But for some reason, you just can’t find that one person that is for you. Well, for starters, you have to learn how to match people’s energy, darling. A closed mouth never gets fed, remember that. When it comes to love, it feels like you can attract people who are not on the same wavelength as you. There’s a dynamic that I am thinking of where one person is more talkative than the other. The talkative person believes that they are talking too much because the quiet one isn’t saying anything. Why don’t you say anything, Pile 3A? Are you embarrassed to be seen in a way that would require vulnerability resulting in your mask coming off? I feel like a healthy love for you requires an extra dose of intimacy even though it makes you uncomfortable. Getting out of your comfort zone is a must for you. You also need to be okay with accepting help/assistance from your partner. You cannot do everything by yourself. Anyone that lets you do everything is not the ‘somebody’ for you. And lastly, healthy love is empowering for you. Your healthy partner will introduce you to new activities that will make you feel brand new.
Cards Used: Two of Discs, The Hermit, The Emperor, Ace of Swords, Eight of Swords, 7 of Cups, King of Discs, 2 of Wands, The High Priestess
extras: beyonce energy. nature. empty laundry basket. 11 something. expensive perfume. sheer.
Pile 3B: This is what happens when you put two middle children in a relationship. Pile 3B, I feel like there is this unconscious need to dominate your partner. Why is that? You are supposed to feel seen by your partner and if you aren’t being seen, then you need to say that. If the roles are flipped and you feel dominated but aren’t saying anything, then you need to express that. This relationship feels new. Yes, you have a good relationship on the surface but say it or be ready to have a shit ton of problems. I think that you’re submissive in the bedroom and want those roles to remain the same outside of the bedroom as well. However, it cannot be that way. For your healthy partnership, I feel like quickies will be beneficial for you, lol. I think this pile has a sexual nature to them and it cannot be ignored. I also feel like gentle words of affirmation are a must for the both of you. Call them beautiful. Allow yourself to be complimented as well. And remember, you are a team. Y’all aren’t each other’s oppositions. Switching roles day in and day out will remind you guys that the presence/absence is felt! Now, kiss!
Cards Used: 7 of Cups, King of Discs, Judgment. 8 of Wands, The Hermit, The Moon, Death, 9 of Discs, The Chariot, 5 of Wands, Wheel of Fortune (RX), Queen of DIscs.
extras: heater cord. dominatrix. motivation. grace-giver. flirtatious. pick-up lines. call me maybe.
Pile 4A: For my singles of Pile Four! Is your devil-may-care attitude affecting the outcome of your relationships? (Yes, it is). Pile 4A, I feel like your need to seem nonchalant has run its course. I feel like you’ve been told about yourself enough so there’s no point in me telling you what you already know. But remember this, in an equal relationship, you must sacrifice your ego. Put your pride aside and let them know how you feel. I don’t think you’ve ever been in a relationship before or you haven’t been in a labeled relationship. In order to be in a healthy relationship, you have to act like you want to be there, first of all! Don’t entertain people just because they like you or because you’re bored. That’s mean and it wastes people’s time. I think that you also have to keep in mind that if you are returning to the same dynamic, you are part of the problem dawg. A healthy relationship for you is a relationship where you do not hold onto the same expectations and instead, you are encouraged to do better. It’s something that transforms you and helps you acknowledge where all of your behaviors came from. It’s something that helps you flourish into a more mature, grown-up version of yourself. It’s all up to you whether or not you take this advice. Either way, you have to do better, Pile 4A.
Cards Used: Four of Discs, The Magician, Nine of Discs, Two of Cups, King of Wands (RX), Death.
extras: “too high to care”. eyeballing. free-for-all. attack on titan. blue faces. paramore. “give it up, deelishis”.
Pile 4B: I feel like the person this pile is with currently definitely wants to get married/have children with their person. But this rough patch is incredibly steep, Pile 4B. So I will ask the following questions for this pile: Do you feel obligated to tolerate your person? Is there anyone that is talking you out of fights with this person? If so, do they pick sides? Is the relationship dynamic fixable? Ask yourself these questions and answer honestly. A healthy love for you is something that makes you feel safe and comforted. It allows you to feel free. It does not make you feel carried away with life nor is it overwhelming. A love that is for you and you only. But I feel that this union is meant to be fought for because the amount of passion that both of you bring to the table is once-in-a-lifetime. I am channeling the energy of Rebecca and Jack Pearson from This is Us. Their energies were definitely meant for each other! I’m not saying you should ignore your feelings but really think about how this healthy love looks in your life, Pile 4B. It may seem worse than what it is, but it’s not. The channeled song is ironic because it’s like you think you’re the couple arguing on the song but you’re not! Good days are on the way.
Cards Used: Death, 7 of Discs, 7 of Wands, The Star (RX), Queen of Cups, The Hierophant, Justice, The Hanged Man, 4 of Wands, 7 of Cups, 8 of Swords (RX), Ten of Discs.
extras: arranged. hbo max. “what’s on tv?” sewerage. cowardly. “baby moms.” dog days are over. couples therapy. courthouse.
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discordantwritings · 5 months
Text
Our Precious Assistant Pt. 3 (Cross Guild x Reader)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 4.5
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gn!afab reader, sub!reader, sub!Buggy, dom!Mihawk, dom!Crocodile, exhibitionism, vouyerism, cockwarming, PiV sex, oral sex, mastrubation, inappropriate use of Buggy’s devil fruit powers, creampie
WC: 4.3k
Summary: You get some much needed TLC and start your new work routine. Which, of course, involves some fooling around at work.
Note: I mean it was only a matter of time before Buggy’s dick being detachable was going to come up. I hope you guys like the dynamics in this one with not everyone participating at once but everyone still getting some love.
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You realize you’re sore before you realize you’re awake. Slowly remembering the events of last night and earlier it all makes sense. Buggy’s arms are wrapped tight around your midsection and you have just enough room to twist around in his grasp.
His face paint had gotten washed off at some point and you can’t help but admire his features without the layer of makeup. Tracing your fingers over his jaw you feel the stubble there, coarse but the sensation isn’t bad.
Your touch stirs Buggy awake and without opening his eyes he pull you in tighter.
“Just five more minutes…” He mumbles, his face buried in your chest.
“Buggy it’s late we should get up.” You press a kiss to the top of his head and push him, but he’s stronger than you.
“Mmmm but I like where I am.” He nuzzles in and you feel that stubble rub against you.
“But I need to take a shower or something.” At this Buggy perks up, withdrawing his face from your boobs. “Croc has the best bathtub.”
So that’s how you ended up soaking with Buggy in the largest bathtub you’ve ever seen. It comfortably fits both of you and you’re pretty sure one or two more people could squeeze in here. Despite how much space you could have you’re right next to Buggy, leaning into his shoulder while you let the warm water soothe your body. Buggy has put heaps of bath salts and other soaps into the bath and the fragrances nearly put you back to sleep.
“Next time we should wait until we aren’t already bruised to get in trouble.” You muse.
“Sorry to break the news but you’re never not going to be bruised. Both of them love marking their territory.” Buggy leans and grabs some shampoo from the side of the bath. You take the bottle from him and he shoots you a confused look.
“Let me wash your hair.” You offer.
His eyes light up and you can’t help but giggle as he eagerly repositions himself in front of you. You take your time with his long blue hair and revel in the intimacy of the moment. When you’re done he returns the favor and you feel the remaining tension leave your body as he scrubs shampoo into your scalp. The both of your are just as languid finishing bathing and you don’t hop out until the bath has gone cold.
It takes a bit to get dressed again since your clothes had been thrown to every corner of the room but you manage to get dressed- well, most of the way.
“Buggy? Have you seen my underwear?” You call out, your check under the bed unsuccessful.
“Me? No. I mean I don’t think you came in wearing any.” His words have you immediately whipping around to look at him.
The edge of your underwear hangs out of his pocket while he wears a shit eating grin. You sigh and slip on your pants knowing you won’t win this battle.
“Let’s go get some dinner.” It’s been way too long since you last ate and after all your body has been through you need to recharge.
“Let’s get Croc and Mihawk one of them always pays for the good stuff.” Buggy takes your arm in his as you walk out of the bedroom and to the offices.
You find Mihawk and Crocodile in their respective offices and it’s doesn’t take much convincing to drag them out to dinner. True to Buggy’s predictions you get a secluded VIP table at a restaurant where prices aren’t even listed on the menu.
You sat next to Crocodile while Buggy and Mihawk sat across from you. They caught you up on what you missed for the day and you were surprised at how mundane it all was. This is just the way your life is now, catching up on the day with three of the most dangerous pirates in the world over dinner.
Crocodile’s large hand was on your thigh all dinner. Surprisingly it never drifted too far in he just left it resting on the top of your thigh, only occasionally squeezing. The touch kept you grounded as you chatted easily through dinner with your new partners. When going back home was brought up at the end of the night you hesitated.
“I think I’m going back to my place tonight.” When Buggy looked particularly dejected you elaborated a bit. “I can’t come into work tomorrow wearing the clothes I wore yesterday.”
“Of course you can. Anyone who even looks at you wrong will get a limb cut off.” Buggy says simply, but thankfully Mihawk is the voice of reason.
“No it makes sense, I’m sure you need some time to yourself after all of this.” Mihawk’s words calm you down, making you more confident in your choice.
“But I think I will make sure to pack an overnight back to have at the office. Just in case.” That comment gets Buggy’s mood up again, and his smile is infectious.
Dinner ends on a high note and by the time you leave the sky is dark and the wind chills you a bit, you weren’t dressed for todays weather. You’re about to excuse yourself to power walk home when a heavy coat drapes over your shoulders.
The thick smell of cigar smoke and fur tickling your neck means you don’t even have to turn to see that it’s Crocodile’s coat on your back. You pull it tighter around you, practically swimming in the dark fabric.
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” You say awkwardly, unsure how goodbyes work in your new situation.
All three of them look at you a bit confused and you can’t help but be confused back.
“We are escorting you home.” Mihawk says like it’s an obvious fact and he takes your arm as he walks by you and in the direction of your apartment.
“Yeah, duh. Can’t have our star walking alone on the streets at night.” Buggy is on your other side, unattached hands gesturing.
You don’t have to look behind you to know Crocodile is bringing up the rear, his imposing presence tingling on your back.
Buggy fills most of the walk home with crazy stories that you’re not sure are true but you enjoy none the less. You’re at your door before you know it and Buggy pulls you off of Mihawk and into a big hug.
“I’m so happy you’re with me.” There’s a beat before he corrects himself. “Us.”
You hug him back and as you pull away you press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m happy too.”
Someone must be glaring at him because Buggy shrinks away to let the other two come closer. Mihawk lightly presses against your arm and you turn to face him.
“Goodnight darling.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and places a quick kiss to your lips before waiting further away with Buggy.
You shrug off Crocodile’s jacket and offer it to him. He pauses a second before taking it and draping it over his arm.
“Thank you. For everything.” You say, smiling up at him.
“We are just getting started.” He places a kiss to your forehead. “We will see you tomorrow.”
You can feel the blush on your cheeks from all of the sweet gestures as you wave at the three of them before slinking back into your apartment. A wide smile never left your face as you went to bed, excited for what life has in store for you.
Life changed but life stayed the same. Work still had to be done and they were still your bosses but of course none of them let that stop their affections. Hands on your back and shoulders as they passed by your desk, quick kisses when they got in for the day. You have to admit you’ve never been more motivated to do your work when the reward is getting a kiss.
But of course not all of their actions were so chaste. You would’ve thought Buggy would be the worst offender of dragging you off to fool around at work but it was far and away Crocodile. Being called into his office to help with paperwork always ended up with you in a compromising position- but you weren’t complaining.
“Sir- Mihawk is expecting a report-“
“Hawkeyes can wait.” You felt the low rumble of his voice throughout your body as you sat in his lap at his desk. Your chest pressed to his as you rested your head on his shoulder. Seeing you from above the desk this might have been a cute scene, you sitting with him as he worked on his paperwork. But below the desk your boss’ pants were open just enough so he could be inside you while he worked.
You had been sitting like this for an hour now, maybe more, warming his cock while you struggled not to move. Your thighs ached from being in this position and slick dripped down onto Crocodile’s lap. You’d be concerned about ruining his incredibly expensive pants if you could form coherent thoughts. The fullness you’ve been experiencing, the ache, being on edge for so long, it caused your head to empty into just a buzz. You had only remembered Mihawk when you glanced down at your watch and realized just how long you had been in this position.
Your arms were latched around your boss’ neck and your face was buried in the crook of his neck. You focused on your breathing and keeping your body relaxed- a feat that had gotten much easier as time went on with the tension in your body unable to hold itself for so long. In the back of your mind you wonder if that’s what Crocodile likes about this- having you completely docile and submissive- wearing you down to just your base instincts. It’s a bit embarrassing to admit you like this too. Not having to think or move and just existing in the moment is a kind of peace you didn’t think you would find sitting on Crocodile’s dick.
A knock on the door sends a small wave of panic through your body as you sit up at the noise- a mistake. The movement sends a fresh wave of pleasure over your over sensitive body and you bite your tongue to stifle a moan. Crocodile doesn’t make any moves but you can tell it effected him by the way his cock throbs inside you.
“Who is it?” Crocodile’s tone is short and you can tell he’s on the verge of anger.
“It’s me wondering what you’ve done with our assistant.” Mihawk’s monotone voice carries through the large wooden door and you can feel Crocodile relax under you.
“Come in and see.”
You know turning and looking to see Mihawk would garner disapproval from Crocodile so you stay still, hyper focusing on the noise to piece together what is happening behind you back. The door creaks open and you hear Mihawk’s boots click a few times on the floor before there’s a long pause.
“Shut the door.” Crocodile seems unbothered now, continuing to file through reports.
The door closes and you hear Mihawk slowly walking closer. Your heartbeat quickens as you feel his eyes on you, burning into your back. Tilting your head you look out and eagerly wait for Mihawk to come into your range of vision.
“I have to say that’s not a bad position for them.” Mihawk finally speaks, probably at the side of the desk just out of your sight.
“On that we agree. I think this is where they should be all the time, keeping me warm is a very important job.” Crocodile’s words send shivers down your spine and you can’t help the whiny moan that bubbles in your throat.
“Oh and they like it so much.” Mihawk’s voice has a teasing tilt to it as he finally slides into your vision. He’s leaning forward so his face is level with yours and his piercing eyes travel over your face, pupils dilated with hunger.
“How long have you been like this?” He asks softly.
“I don’t know… hour? More?” Your voice is breathy, needy.
“You like being senseless on his cock?” Mihawk presses his face close, forehead touching yours.
“Fuck- yes.” Your eyes are screwed shut and you feel Mihawk’s breath on your face.
You feel Crocodile’s chuckle. “Keep talking to them, I can feel how much they like it.”
Mihawk finally closes the gap and your kiss is all needy tongue and teeth as an hour of patience is broken. You push up to try and deepen the kiss but you’re promptly pulled back down by Crocodile’s hand at your waist.
“Don’t think you’re done here.” His voice is stern but you can hear arousal creeping into the edges of his tone.
Mihawk breaks away and you whine as you watch him walk away. You’re confused only for a second until you hear the drag of one of the other chairs in the room coming to sit next to Crocodile’s large office chair. Mihawk sits down next to the two of you and with his legs spread wide you can see his erection straining against his black pants.
“How long you going to keep them like this?” The swordsman asks.
“What, you want a turn?” Crocodile responds, putting down his pen and piling up some of the papers.
“No. Just wanted to know if the show was going to get exciting anytime soon.” His disinterested words didn’t hold any weight when he was unbuckling his pants.
“Seems our assistant isn’t the only needy one here. What do you say sweetheart? You ready to put on a show for Mihawk?” Crocodile lightly pushes you so you’re sitting up, face to face with him.
“Yes sir.” You say unabashedly needy.
“That’s my angel.” He mutters to you before finally kissing you. Just like with Mihawk it’s heated but he’s much more controlled- the teeth are precise as he bites your lower lip while his hand grips your hip.
You grind down on him, relishing in finally being able to move. You’re rewarded with a deep groan from Crocodile and you know both of you won’t last much longer. Crocodile’s hand slides from your waist to under your ass as he stands up, sitting you on the desk in one swift movement. Grateful you won’t have to try and use your already aching thighs you allow your head to loll to the side to get a view of Mihawk.
He’s sat back in the chair, legs spread wide as his hand slowly fists his dick. His gaze is lidded as he watches the two of you. Crocodile seems more than happy to maneuver one of your legs up so your foot is on the desk, spreading yourself wide so Mihawk can have a better view of Crocodile’s large cock splitting you open. Crocodile bites down on your shoulder as he thrusts into you and you moan loud as you feel Mihawk’s gaze burn into you.
“You like me watching you?” Mihawk asks, his breath short.
You go to respond but Crocodile thrusts up into you hard and all you can do is moan as your hands fly back to get a grip on the desk to stabilize yourself. It’s not hard to assume Crocodile loves the audience too, deep thrusts at a slightly awkward angle just to show off.
“Hawkeyes-“
“Yes.” Mihawk doesn’t need Crocodile to finish his sentence before he’s quickly by your side. You don’t know how they communicate so much with so little but Mihawk’s deft fingers circling your clit have you abandoning that train of thought.
Mihawk leans in and starts whispering praises in your ear about how good you’re taking Crocodile and how nice you looked sitting on his cock.
Mihawk’s words- His fingers- Crocodile’s thrusts- it was too much and finally after so long of being on the precipice you crashed over into your orgasm. Crocodile wasn’t far behind, burying himself until his hips were flush with yours and filling you up with a groan.
Mihawk’s ministrations on your clit slowed and helped you come down until Crocodile finally pulled out of you. If you weren’t so fucked out you might have been worried about getting Crocodile’s desk dirty but all you could do was collapse back onto it and catch your breath.
The sound of Mihawk zipping his pants up in the quiet space makes you push yourself up a bit to see what was happening. Mihawk hadn’t finished and you flashed him a confused look as you try (and then fail) to sit up.
“Don’t worry about me. You’ve been good.” He leans over and kisses your forehead. “I’m going to go bother Buggy.”
“Mmm.” You nodded and with a sigh relaxed back into the desk. Of course you would have been more than happy to help Mihawk but you have to admit you’re exhausted. Plus you can imagine how excited Buggy will be when Mihawk comes to his door already hard. You smile at him as he walks away and notice a small nod shared between him and Crocodile.
When the door shuts you finally manage to push yourself up to look at Crocodile in his chair. “How do you two do that?”
“Do what?” He’s already put himself back together, a cigar about to be lit in his fingers.
“Talk without talking. I’ve seen you and Mihawk do it a bunch.” You reach over and grab his lighter from his desk and spark it.
“Thanks doll.” He leans forward and lights his cigar. After taking a long drag he answers you question. “We just work on the same wave. Probably because of our time was warlords- same path of thinking, same muscle memory. Turns out fighting and fucking together have a lot of overlap.”
You giggle as you push off the desk and slide sideways into his lap, your legs over his thighs. Leaning into his chest you curl up into his warmth. “It’s great you two have that.”
Crocodile only hums and you let yourself relax as the two of you drift into pleasant silence.
Even if Crocodile is the worst offender that doesn’t mean Buggy isn’t an interruption to your work a lot. Most of it is quick, random kisses or gropes when no one is looking. But sometimes he will get you into his office and whine enough that you relent to him.
“They’re so mean to me baby.” Buggy is lounging on a large velvet couch in his over decorated office.
“Yes. Didn’t you sign up for that?” You stand over him, hand on your hip.
“Yeah but-“ He pouts. “You’re so nice to me.”
“And?” You notice his hands detaching and floating around behind you.
“I could be nice to you.” The innuendo is punctuated by his hands on your ass, squeezing as they push you even closer to him.
“And you know what will happen if we get up to anything without Crocodile or Mihawk.” While you admit it was fun, you weren’t exactly in the mood to be edged for hours.
Buggy dramatically flips back into the couch as you notice a hand leave and fly over to a transponder snail. The snail is picked up and placed on an end table so Buggy could talk to someone.
“Hawky baby~” He calls into the transponder only to be immediately greeted with the sound of Mihawk hanging up. Buggy gasps, offended before redialing.
“Ourassistantisherewithmeandwewantohabefunsocouldyoucomeoverand-“ Buggy rushes all his words out before he’s hung up on again. The mouthpiece gets dropped to the ground as Buggy pouts.
“I’m sure if we just wait until tonight-“ Now it’s your turn to be cut off as you hear the quick opening and closing of Buggy’s door. You turn and see Mihawk standing there, arms crossed.
“Hawky!” Buggy shoots up as his hands reattach themselves. “I knew you would be so loving and reasonable.”
“Which is why you called twice?” Mihawk deadpans.
“Yes?”
You and Mihawk look at each other and you shrug. “He said he wanted to be nice to me.”
“You are nice to him, so it seems only fair.” Mihawk finally walks over and picks one of the obscenely plush chairs to sit in. “Make sure our lovely assistant is appreciated for all their hard work.”
Hands suddenly grab at your waist and pull you down onto the couch with Buggy. In a flash he’s on top of you, pushing you down to lay flat on the bed while he eagerly kisses down your neck. His hands are already working at the waistband of the pants and pulling down.
“You could go a little slower.” Mihawk comments from his chair and you look over to see him palm himself through his pants.
“But that’s no fun.” Buggy smiles up at you as his hands travel back up and push you shirt up, giving him better access to paw and your breasts. You moan as his hands work your flesh and you can feel yourself getting wet from the attention.
Buggy continues not to listen to Mihawk’s advice as he slides down until he’s kissing your hips and down the tops of your thighs. You shudder in anticipation as his hands hold your thighs open and kid mouth travels to your inner thighs, taking its time there as he sucks the sensitive skin.
“Buggy-“ You whine as your hand lands on his head, threading your fingers into his soft blue hair.
“Now who’s in a rush?” Buggy teases, hovering just above where you need him to be.
“Thought you were going to be nice to me.” You pout and you know Buggy can’t resist.
“Anything for my star.” He presses on last kiss to the inside of your thigh before he dives in.
Buggy isn’t as through and calculated as Mihawk or Crocodile but fuck if he isn’t enthusiastic. He’s loud and sloppy but as his tongue dives between your folds his nose rubs against your clit any comparisons fly out of your head. You push his head down further as you buck your hips to grind on his face and Buggy takes that lead well, never slowing down. You’re keenly aware of Mihawk’s gaze and you let your head fall to the side to make eye contact with him.
His dick is out now and his thumb is rubbing over the bright red head. He must like this a lot you think- sitting back and watching the ones more eager to show off. You like it too.
You turn your moans and whines up to eleven, doing your best not to break eye contact with him even when Buggy’s tongue reaches deep inside you. When he does that your grip tightens on his hair and he moans into your pussy. Mihawk’s gaze leaves your eyes for a second to dart down before connecting with yours again.
“Buggy.” Mihawk is short and commanding and to Buggy’s credit he immediately stops and rests his head on your thigh. “Show them your trick.”
“I have a lot of tricks you’re going to have to be more- ohhhhhhh.” Buggy gets a devilish grin on his face as realization clicks.
You’re confused and prop yourself up a bit when Buggy’s hands leave your body to work at his pants and he pulls them down just enough for you to see how worked up he’s gotten from eating you out. What surprises you is when he tugs at his dick it pops off of his body. It makes sense, given his powers there’s no reason it shouldn’t but it’s still a sight. Once the initial shock wears off there’s a fresh wave of arousal as Buggy guides his cock to your entrance, teasing around your folds and gathering the slick there.
“Now go slowly.” Mihawk commands.
You whine as Buggy’s tip pushes into your entrance, stretching you out. True to his orders Buggy goes painfully slow, giving every inch it’s time to drag against your walls. When he’s about halfway in he adjusts and you gasp when suddenly his mouth is around your clit, sucking. You grip his hair hard as he moans into that bundle of nerves and create a pleasure filled feedback loop. Buggy continues to ease himself into you and lap at your clit and all you can do is grip onto him and stare into Mihawk’s golden eyes.
You see him working himself, pacing his hand with Buggy’s slow rhythm in and out of you. Seeing him watching, knowing Buggy and you are under his control even as he’s passively sitting there is thrilling. Knowing he gets off on it too feels just as good.
The overload of this new combination of sensations has you a moaning mess, babbling as you grip onto the couch and Buggy’s hair for dear life. Buggy is close too from you tugging at his hair and your cunt pulsing around him he is using all his focus to keep tonguing at your clit.
“Buggy- ‘m close just-“ You manage to choke out and he gets the message. He pumps himself inside you faster and as he’s slamming into you lightly nips at your clit.
You cum with a loud moan and you feel Buggy close behind you, filling you as your walls seize from your orgasm. You are able to catch Mihawk finishing into his hand, cum spilling over his abs.
Buggy collapses onto you, head nuzzled into your thigh as he catches his breath. You run your fingers through his hair as you gain your senses back.
“Don’t forget we are going out for dinner tonight.” Mihawk says as he finishes cleaning himself up, bringing over some wipes for you and Buggy. “So do be cleaned up.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead and then presses one on Buggy’s cheek.
You never thought this is where your life would end up but as contentment and love fills up your chest you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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whorekneecentral · 11 months
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Charles Leclerc smut and aftercare, please. The context for rough sex - he is really angry about a stupid on-track collision with another driver that cost him the win and almost cost him the podium, he did win P2 but with scraps. However, being the softy he is, he really feels horrible looking at all the bite marks on your body so he ends up giving you much-loved TLC.
this is a banger -- tw: mentions of bruises and marks (sex related tho!)
the race was fucked, he drivers for ferrari what can you really say? you left him to do his debrief as you packed up his driver's room. charles came in p2 but he could have won, a fucked strategy call caused him to slip down and lose the lead of the race.
you told him take it out on you, something that happens more weekends than he'd like to admit but he did; this time was a bit different tho.
charles was rough; hair pulling, your neck, shoulder and chest all covered in hickeys, there's a red hand print on your ass and bruises along your hips from how hard he gripped them. not to mention the bite mark on your shoulder he gave you when he tried to keep himself quiet.
you didn't mind, it wasn't the first time he left bruises on you. you knew you two were headed home for a week so they'd be gone by the next race.
your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you, cuddling up to you as you two caught your breath. "room service?" he asked and you nodded, sitting up.
he reaches for the light switch, flipping it on as you stretched on the bed. charles's heart stopped for a second when he saw the bruises and marks on you.
"amour, i- im so sorry."
your brows furrowed, looking at the man confused. "what for?"
charles grabs your hand, bringing you over to the bathroom. he has you standing in front of the mirror when he turns on the light. you finally see the marks all over you, you've had them before but never as much as tonight.
"babe, it's fine." you assure him, "they don't even hurt."
he sits you down in the tub, turning on the water as he goes to order the room service. he comes back to check on you and you can tell he's holding back, being himself up mentally for leaving you like that.
"charles," you called, a hand reached out for him. "get in with me."
"you're sure?" he asks hesitantly, you nod and scoot forward a bit.
his arms wrapped around you as you settled between his legs and laid back against your boyfriend. "I love you, you know that right?" you looked over your shoulder at him and he smiles.
"I love you and I really am sorry."
"stop apologizing, it's fine baby."
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being-addie · 1 year
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Sunday Resets
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Setting aside time for yourself is so important. I don't think people understand how vital it is to pay attention to your body and just take a day to let your body r-e-l-a-x. We're all so busy fighting to reach the top, that while climbing the corporate ladder, we lose ourselves somewhere along the way. Burnout, depression, and monotony come into play when we don't listen to our bodies telling us they need a break.
Once every two weeks or so, on a Sunday, I turn off all my notifications and have a day dedicated to me. Giving my body some TLC, resting and preparing for the next week. If I have plans on a Sunday, such as brunch or a meeting, I shift that day to Saturday, or at the very least, a day where I have at least 4-5 hours to spend leisurely.
Things I like to do on my Sunday resets:
Wake up early/sleep in: Depending on my mood, and how much sleep I've had during the week, I'll either be up at the crack of dawn or still in bed till it's nearly noon. There's no shame in staying in bed till 11:30 if you're particularly exhausted, but I recommend waking up at least before 11 AM because then you'll feel tired and groggy (of course, this doesn't apply to everyone)
Clean my room: I always make my bed without fail, and if my room is messy, then I'll clean it. Clean the vanity table, my desk, closet, art cupboard and bookshelf, and then the bathroom. If my mom needs help around the house, I do that too.
Food: I make myself a good breakfast, taking time to move around the kitchen and just breathe. I'm getting to eat good food, the sun is shining and I'm alive. It's great. Sometimes my dad cooks for the whole family and we just sit and eat together.
The Everything Shower: I take my Everything Shower on Sundays, where I wash my hair, deep condition, use a hair and face mask, exfoliate and do a face massage. I don't shave because I get my waxing done in a salon. I then slather myself in cocoa butter lotion and apply lip balm. Then do my hair routine (curly hair). It takes a few hours, but it's worth it.
The Next Week: I prep for the next week by cooking something I can take to my classes, like granola bars or homemade pita chips. I also sit down and plan my schedule (any dinners, meetings, parties, etc) and make a rough plan of my goals for the week, like assignments and deadlines.
Errands: I usually make a list of things I need to do during the week, like any specific separate groceries that I use, art supplies I'm low on, or needing to top up the air in my tyres. Then I go complete all of those in the afternoon.
Walks: In the evening, I take a walk around the block with a friend. I usually am too busy to do this during the week, so getting some fresh air is always a treat.
Relax: The rest of the evening is spent relaxing. I watch Netflix with my family, chat with my younger sister, read a novel/play the piano/write poetry. We have dinner together and then either watch a movie or just spend the time talking about our week, or the news. It's fun.
Double-check: Before I go to sleep, I make sure to double-check that my work is done, my bag is packed, clothes are folded and all my devices are charged. I'm in bed by 10:30 PM.
Remember that not all Sundays will be like this. Sometimes I'm extremely drained, so I'll sleep in, order food and just lay in bed recuperating. It's okay to take a rest day. This guide is if you want to be more productive, and it helps the week go smoother. Be the person who has their life in charge. You've got this.
<3
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