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#and it looks like they are working really hard to make every book character as ooc as possible
luveline · 2 days
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Hi Jade!!! I love, love, love your writing. I was wondering if you could write something for Tsam Peter x reader where reader has a concussion and Peter is just generally super sweet about taking care of them? I have a concussion right now and I feel like he would be so sweet about it. If not feel free to ignore this, love you!!! <3
i love u!! fem!reader, 1k
You’re shivering again. Peter looks up from his book suspiciously, squinting at the curve of your where you’re laying on his couch. He should let you rest —you’re allowed to sleep with a concussion, despite what some might think— but he doesn’t like the shivering. It’s weird. 
“I'm coming, baby,” he says, standing up from the armchair to situate himself by your hips. 
Peter pulls the blankets more firmly to your chin. “Are you cold, bub?” he asks. It might appear that he’s talking to you while you’re still sleeping, but the smile you give when he talks proves otherwise. 
“No,” you force out in a mumble. 
“Are you sure?” 
It takes you some time to think about it. Your body’s been thrown for a loop since you hurt yourself, but you’re healing nicely, and your mental stamina is yards better than it had been. Peter asked you yesterday if you wanted a kiss and you couldn’t answer him for a full minute, and when you did it was an uncoordinated lift of your chin. You’re still in there, still his girl, just mildly incapacitated for the time being. 
“I might be,” you decide. 
Peter grabs a throw from under the coffee table and shakes it out over your arms and shoulders. “There. Need a drink?” 
“Do you?” you ask. 
“What?” 
“You’re asking me lots of questions,” you say, slowly, quietly, but not without character. “I thought I’d ask one back.” 
“I don’t need anything.” He tilts his head to align your faces, leaning in, not quite close enough to kiss you. 
“You look very serious right now, Spider-Man.” 
He glares for show. “So serious.” 
“Sorry I can’t really make you a drink.” 
Peter wipes the glare. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I don’t care that you can’t be my serf right now. When you’re better I’m gonna work you twice as hard, that’s all.” 
You raise a tired hand to his jaw. You’re extra careful to offset your wonky hand, stroking a clumsy but tender line from his ear to his chin. “Can you help me up?” 
Peter doesn’t question you. You’ve been recovering for a few days (he hasn’t realised before your injury that some people can take months to get better after a head injury, even without blood clots or fractures) and he’s not felt the urge to baby you beyond waiting on your every whim and want. If you’d like to sit up, that’s okay. The only thing he’d insist on is getting enough sleep at night, and thats something you’ll do happily. 
“Can I give you a hug?” he asks, his eyebrows pinching up at their starts. “I hate seeing you shiver, it makes me sad.” 
“Makes you sad?”
He squeezes your elbow where the blankets have fallen down. “Is that surprising?” 
You want to trade jokes with him but you can’t summon a retort, and your smile quickly fades. It can’t be nice, feeling a shade of yourself. Peter’s heart aches for you twice. 
“C’mere, pretty girl,” he says, slipping his arms under yours, encouraging you to wrap your own behind his head or let them rest behind his shoulders. He loves hugging you like this, almost lifting you, spider strength begging to be used as you sigh and settle into place against him. You feel a little like a shell of yourself, not quite quick with touches, fingertips twitching against his shoulder blade as he nuzzles his face against yours unabashed. “There you are. Where’d you go, huh? I was about to send out the search party.” 
“I’m right here.” 
“Yeah you are. Lucky me, right? Luckiest guy in the world.” 
You sigh happily beside his ear, your face pitching slowly downward until it’s pressing against the curve of his neck, your arms slipping down his front as you run out of energy. He doesn’t mind, bundling you up with no intention of letting you go. 
“How do you feel?” he asks. 
“Still fuzzy, like… it’s like we’re talking to each other through a screen door.” 
“Do you need something? Or want something? I’ll get you anything.” 
“I’m fine.” 
He lets out a sorry sigh. He wishes you’d want something, god knows he’d love to put a smile on your face. If you were feeling better you might ask him to go and get you something for dinner from across the city, or beg him to find you a bunch of flowers (which he’s always willing to buy). But sick, you ask for nothing. You just lay on the couch and wait to get better. Peter doesn’t think it’s super fair. 
“I’m sorry you’re not better yet,” he murmurs, his lips drifting down to your temple, which he kisses weakly, the barest brush of his lips. “Wish I could take it from you.” 
“I’ll be okay soon.” 
“I know you will, but I still wish I could take it. It’s shitty.” 
You think about this for a while. “It’s not shitty,” you work out finally, hand curling against his waist in a tired display of affection. “I have the… best boyfriend ever looking after me.” 
“I’ll be here until you’re better, you know that.” 
“I know.” 
Peter ushers you back and lifts your blankets, slotting himself next to you with a careful arm held behind your back. You show some surprising excitement at the offering of a cuddle and work under his arm, shuffling down the couch to leave you both laying on the same cushion, blankets uneven but warm over your chests. “You should probably go back to sleep,” he says. 
“Nap with me?” you ask, endearingly hopeful. 
He turns his face, intending on drawing lines into your cheek with the tip of his nose until you either fall asleep or can’t take it anymore. “Sure, baby. I bet you’re exhausted, huh? Let’s sleep.” 
He falls asleep before you, breathing snores into your cheek. You have enough wits about you to laugh, and then you fall asleep, too. 
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imaginarypasta · 4 months
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i’ve been trying to get through hoh for literally like a week now but it’s so hard bc the way my fave nico is treated is absolutely ABYSMAL and i know it only gets worse
#personal#even hazel being like ‘yeah he’s hard to get along with’ or whatever she said#every single non-tartarus perspective has had at least one reference to this#and like i understand the reasons it’s not that it’s that it highlights this issue i have with a lot of the characters in that series which#is that i don’t like them. and that’s so different for me bc i actually usually find that my two favorite characters in anything are the tw#that don’t like each other? unrelated to that dynamic usually mostly but still within it#but that’s not even what the dynamic is yk.#and it’s just the whole thing overall like in the last book there was one part where these two characters who are supposed to be good#friends are separated and one makes a comment about how annoying (or something along those lines) she finds the other which.#i’m vaguely aware of what happens in toa so i think you could argue something about that but read on its own bc i don’t want to make that#argument without fully grasping where her character goes#it just kinda reinforces this… vibe to the whole series that was not nearly as present in the first series of like. really overemphasized#like gender roles/heterosexuality/etc. i can’t think of the word to use to describe it. i’ve seen other ppl talk about the parts that add u#to the whole that i’ve seen but never synthesize them. and it really varies between actually insidious and simply not my taste which is par#of the reason i hesitate to make a full critique out of it. but suffice to say i really don’t like it#with that being said the pacing of this book is really good and i am compelled to finish based on the themes i do find interesting#autonomy being a huge one#but anyway those are my thoughts on it after a few days of a break. i’ve been playing a video game instead :3 but i start work on wednesday#sooo i won’t have as much free time boo#looking back maybe ‘insidious’ is a very strong word for it. i’m talking about like when percy complains about the bag and similar moments
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freelancearsonist · 19 days
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make a move on me
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➔ pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k
➔ You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.
➔ Rated MA for baby’s first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of “slut”, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]
➔ This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joel’s shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.
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Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Don’t fret over the pretty little thing who’s been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.
If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the job–or, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But there’s a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishment–that savors the teasing.
The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he can’t blame you for this whole mess. He shouldn’t be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.
But god, you make it hard–double entendre intended. You walk around like you haven’t a care in the world because you don’t; you’re home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.
Joel’s a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But you’re not exactly making it easy on him.
Really, it’s Tommy’s fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel might’ve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and that’s the beginning of the downward spiral.
The brothers are both lounging on Joel’s couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that they’re more staring at than actually watching. It’s late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarah’s gone off to bed.
Tommy’s eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. “That girl’s gon’ be trouble for us, brother.”
There’s a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommy’s talking about you without any specification.
Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. “She’s always wearin’ those skimpy little outfits a’hers, and she ain’t coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starin’ at your ass even more than I catch you starin’ at hers.”
Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.
He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isn’t you.
But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.
There’s not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.
The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and you’re brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once would’ve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.
Joel’s jaw hurts that night from the way it’s been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.
It doesn’t work.
The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but it’s a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isn’t you.
You see the labor he’s going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didn’t reward his efforts?
It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. It’s made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesn’t know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.
And then it’s cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. You’re like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.
All the while you traipse around the house like a mirage–humming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joel’s stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joel’s ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. You’re the worst temptation Joel’s ever had to face.
It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.
But there’s no respect in your eyes. There’s nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.
Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you don’t?
And really, the whole thing is Tommy’s fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with you–gives you the perfect opening to pounce.
Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.
He’s just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.
“Good morning, Joel,” you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. “No Tommy today?”
He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure you’re actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanity–
“N-no. He’s sick,” Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, “that’s my shirt, isn’t it?”
You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.
“Oh, it must’ve gotten mixed in with our laundry!” The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. “Here–”
You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breast–
He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. “S’alright, darlin’. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”
“Okay,” you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”
He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and there’s sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.
He realizes, with startling clarity, that he’s at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension that’s spread thicker than butter between you and him. He’s got a choice to make, and it’s not going to be an easy choice.
“Sure.” It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart. That’d be great.”
“Alright,” you say with that damned giggle again. “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. It’s so much easier to think straight when you’re not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.
He’s got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, you’re practically begging for it.
But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl that’s definitely too young and too pure for someone like him–because he knows that if has you, he’ll never be able to get enough.
There’s a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joel’s never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.
He’s got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bag–mostly used for plumbing fittings, but it’ll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.
You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think he’s disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He can’t do this, this was such a horrible idea, he–
Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns you’re still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.
He doesn’t give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.
You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like that–with a startling moment of clarity–that this isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to take, and take, and take–gorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks you’ll actually enjoy his greed.
“Joel–”
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs as his lips break away from yours–so low and soft in your ear it can’t be anything but a growl. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop right now.”
“I want it,” you affirm.
He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. “Fuck.” 
He’s so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like you’re nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and there’s an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. It’s messy and frenzied and desperate–your hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.
“Was starting to think you weren’t interested.” Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.
“I’ve been tryna convince myself m’not,” he kisses into your neck. “Didn’t work.”
With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He can’t be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and… suddenly you can’t focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what you’re working with.
Your hand just barely fits around him. He’s thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his length–you think he’s seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. There’s a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. It’s porn star material–you didn’t know real people had dicks like this.
“Joel… Jesus, that’s gonna be a tight fit.”
“Oh, don’t worry darlin’,” he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. “It ain’t goin’ in there.”
There’s nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. “Where…”
“Flip over f’me.”
You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.
You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. It’s like you’re on display for him, for his appraisal. You’ve still got shorts and a bra on, yet you’ve never felt more exposed.
It’s almost like he can sense your mind swirling–maybe it’s because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against you–you can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. “But I made myself this little promise that I wouldn’t fuck you. You got me actin’ so unprofessional, honey.”
You whine at the sincerity in his voice–all you’ve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this. 
“You can fuck me,” you whine earnestly. “It’s okay, I promise. Won’t tell.”
“Mmm, I know. You’re too good a girl to go gettin’ me in trouble over somethin’ like this,” he hums–you can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “But with all the teasin’ you been doin’... don’t rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.”
“Please–”
“However,” he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, “might be willin’ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.”
He pauses to let you ask, “What conditions?”
And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But he’s spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and you’ve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. It’s like you’ve been silently asking him all this time to take it.
His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where he’s been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he can’t describe coursing through his veins.
“You ever taken someone here before?”
“N-no.” He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hip–that excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You haven’t run away screaming yet, and that’s the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.
“I think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttin’ up with all your play,” he growls into your ear.
It’s fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. It’s even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.
“You say no right now and I’ll drop it,” he murmurs so sweetly. “Don’t ever have to talk about this again.”
You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished talking–a sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.
“It’s only right,” you affirm. “Gotta make it up to you for how naughty I’ve been.’
His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”
He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.
He can’t resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. “She wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ain’t gettin’ any.”
It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.
“Gonna get you nice and ready, I promise. M’not gonna hurt you, baby girl.”
“Thank you, da–” You almost lost yourself there for a second–almost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slip–you simply clear your throat and try again. “Thank you, Joel.” But you aren’t nearly as smooth as you hope to be.
In a flash Joel’s free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. They’re so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.
“What’d you call me?”
“J-Joel.”
His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeeze–his jaw is set, you know he isn’t playing. “Try again, and tell the truth this time.”
“D… daddy.”
You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he won’t let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.
“Good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
You can’t do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. It’s tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever could’ve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.
Joel’s jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and he’s barely even started. “Fuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelin’ daddy’s fingers gettin’ you ready for his big cock?”
The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. “Talk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how you’re feelin’, or I’m gonna stop.”
“Fuck!” It’s shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you weren’t so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. “Don’t stop daddy!”
“Feels good, yeah? How long has daddy’s little slut wanted to try this?”
But there’s no way you can be expected to answer, not when he’s adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and you’re thinking about just how many fingers he’s going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.
He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.
He can’t help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly he’d dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like it’s been years since you left the room on that little errand for him–definitely not the barely ten minutes it’s actually been.
“Relax, baby girl. I’m comin’ right back.”
You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. It’s met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.
“Atta girl.” His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. “Doin’ so good f’me.”
“Daddy–”
“I know,” he coos. “I know, it’s so much, isn’it?”
All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruel–although he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.
Everything is so hot. There’s a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.
And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.
Within seconds you’re coming–no pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second there’s nothing more than pleasant anticipation–the next, you’re shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joel’s name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.
He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.
“I know, I know,” he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. “You’re doin’ so good baby, let yourself have it.”
It’s minutes before you’re breathing normally again–your legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joel’s hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; it’s like he’s mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.
“Doin’ okay?” He husks into your ear–and then he’s folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.
For some reason, that’s what really makes it sink in. That’s the moment you realize that this is actually going to happen–that you want it to happen. Joel’s about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. You’re offering it willingly, even.
You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. “Mhm. I’m ready, daddy.”
“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs won’t be able to support you through what’s about to happen.
There’s a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. “That how you want it, baby?”
Despite everything that’s already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. You’re completely naked, and he’s fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.
He’s beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. He’s firm and toned, but there’s a softness about him that you can’t help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you don’t know that you’ve ever seen someone so turned on before, and it’s a heady rush of power.
He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him in–he raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so good spread out f’me like this. You sure you’re ready f’this?”
“Fuck yes,” you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and that’s more than enough for him.
He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and it’s actually intimidating like this. He’s so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, but–
“M’gonna go slow, okay?” He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. “Gonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and we’re done, ‘kay?”
“Okay,” you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell he’s being sincere. You trust him; you know he won’t hurt you.
The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. He’s big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him it’s a tight fit. You can tell it’s affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that he’s fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you don’t even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and it’s a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.
He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. “God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You doin’ okay?”
You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words won’t come. It’s such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.
It’s nasty, and you’ve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.
“Shit baby, you’re takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.
You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound you’ve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. “Fuck daddy!”
“I know,” he coos–you think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. “I know, you wanna come, dontcha? It’s okay baby, daddy’s gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.”
His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what you’re used to, but it’s good. It’s amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, m’not gonna last long like this. You’re gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.”
His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. He’s not trying to prolong it anymore–he’s going for the kill.
“Fuck daddy!” Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. “W-want it, please, want you to come in my ass–”
“Gonna give it to you, impatient girl,” he growls deep in his chest. “You gimme one first.”
Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.
“She wants t’be stuffed so full, doesn’t she?” He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. “Bet she’d love to be chock full’a cock right now.”
“Joel–”
“Now, now, baby, no whinin’. It’s unbecomin’ for such a sweet little lady,” he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. “You’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?”
“Yesyesyesplease–”
His fingers have barely returned to your clit before you’re coming again. This one is even more powerful than before–a hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable waves–the words you’re panting aren’t even discernible English anymore.
The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything you’ve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.
It’s a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groan–it makes you giggle, because it’s the most over-dramatic sound you’ve ever heard in your life.
There’s a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments it’s just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.
And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in. 
“I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better after sleepin’ in, what’s so funny–” He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.
Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”
You don’t know how to answer when you’re so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think of–you dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.
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2K notes · View notes
sivyera · 7 months
Text
TWILIGHT characters as love tropes
ft. carlise, esme, emmet, rosalie, edward, jasper, alice, jacob, seth, leah, paul, charlie, bella
a/n: with songs to each character
༻♛༺
⤷ Carlisle Cullen - rich love
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Carlisle is a very rich man which means he will spoil you a lot. Not only with expensive gifts but also with a lot of attention and affection.
Every time when he gets home from work, he welcomes you with a kiss and warm hug.
When he has a day off, he will cook with you (even tho he cannot eat it, it's just about the time he can spend with you) or you will lay on his lap with his hand stroking your hair and book in his other hand, reading to you.
Every Friday he will take you to a fancy restaurant and than for a slow walk around the nearest park.
On your birthday or on International Women's Day (or any other 'special' day) he will spoil you even more than on normal days. Expensive jewelry, perfumes, clothes, shoes,...
He will bring you flowers at least once every two weeks. And every July he will take you on vacation and you can choose where.
Lolita - Lana Del Rey
⤷ Esme Cullen - falling in love fast
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Esme is such a kind soul so it's no surprise that you two fell in love with each other fast.
She will take you on a date every Saturday. Mostly coffee dates are her favourite. The two of you can talk for hours while drinking delicious coffee.
She will also enjoy baking with you (even tho she cannot eat/taste them)
She has many polaroids with you on them or with the both of you on them and has them hang in her closet or the small table beside her bed.
She loves when you paint her nails and massage her legs and she will always return the favor.
She loves sunny days but because she's a vampire and her skin sparkle on the sun, she cannot go out where people can see her, BUT she can go somewhere private like meadow or forest where you two can be alone and on the sun!
Sofia - Clairo
⤷ Emmett Cullen - he fell first and harder
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Emmett was absolutely over the moon when you two started dating, because he knew from the start that you two are just meant to be.
He loves, loves, LOVES when you sit on his lap. He doesn't care if you are stroking his hair or doing make-up on him, he just want you in his lap, so he can embrace you with his big arms and muscular body.
He'll dance goofily around the bedroom with you to some catchy hip-hop songs he has found.
He loves cuddling with you especially when he can be the big spoon, because he likes how tiny you're compared to him.
Matching pyjamas and make polaroids in those pyjamas, which happens to be one of his favourite memory and polaroids.
He doesn't really like reading books but he always wants you to read to him, because he loves your voice.
She's Kinda Hot - 5 Seconds of Summer
⤷ Rosalie Cullen/Hale - you fell first but she fell harder
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Rosalie has trust issues and trauma because of her past so she wouldn't fall in love easily nor fast, but trust me when she does fall in love; she loves hard.
She loves having spa day with you which includes face masks, painting nails, shared warm bath and much more.
She will take you to the mail shopping almost every day and will buy you everything you look at.
She doesn't like much PDA but she will hold your hand in public but if she gets jealous, she will show the person she's jealous off who you belong to.
She doesn't show it to others just you, but she loves cuddles. She loves when you lay next to her, face to face so she can see your beautiful face.
She's also very protective over you, so if any guy or a girl makes you feel uncomfortable (or unsafe), tell her and she will make sure they won't approach you ever again.
Prey - The Neighbourhood
⤷ Edward Cullen - first and only love
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Edward waited so many years for you, but it was worth it because he finally got you.
He loves when you kiss his forehead even tho he has to lean down because of your height difference, it makes him feel safe. Still his favourite place to kiss you is on your lips.
Edward will write poets for you and about you on small piece of paper and then put them somewhere in your room where you will notice them like your closet or on your book, laptop, notebook, pillow,...and he will bring you your favorite flowers right after the previous ones he gave you have withered.
He will also write songs about you (or for you) and then play them to you on the piano. Which he absolutely loves because you sit right next to him and look at him with those beautiful eyes of yours full of love. Edward cannot read your mind but he can sure read your eyes, the small spark and the love in them when you look at him, he just loves it!
Loves cuddling with you, his favourite position is when you lay on his chest or when he's the big spoon, face to face or hugging you from behind.
He loves having deep talks with you and he'll tell you about his childhood or about the time he was born in.
Follow You - Imagine Dragons
⤷ Jasper Cullen/Hale - unconditional love
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Jasper can be sometimes insecure just as much as Edward, they even have similar reasons... Jasper is afraid of him hurting you, he's afraid that he won't be able to control himself around you, but your words of affirmation and gently touch will calm him down.
Jasper doesn't talk much, he rather listens and he loves listens to you. It doesn't matter what you are talking about, he just loves your voice.
He will take you for a horse ride because he loved it back when he was a human and because he was a cowboy, but you two will have to share the horse because he wants your arms around him.
At first he was a bit scared of cuddling with you (again because of his control) but soon as your hand went to his hair, he melted. Both of you realized how touch starved he's so now cuddling is an everyday thing.
Jasper is a gentleman like Edward or Carlisle so he will also bring you flowers every even week.
He'll read to you to make you fall asleep, because his smooth voice is like a lullaby to you. But if Jasper feels that you are anxious, he will calm you down with his gift and than talk to you what made you anxious, eventually he will cuddle you.
R U Mine? - Artic Monkeys
⤷ Alice Cullen - any universe
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Alice (because of her gift) always knew you were the one, her one and only true love. So when she first saw you, she couldn't help but babbling to her adoptive siblings all day how amazing you are and how she's already in love with you.
She'll go to the mail with you and make small fashion show with you in the cabins with all the cute outfits she found for you and you for her.
She's mostly the small spoon (sometimes she is the big spoon but depends on the situation) while cuddling because she loves when you hold her in your arms and stroke her back.
Outside, in front of other people, she will always hold your whole arm, not just palm.
If you have trouble falling asleep, she will gladly sing to you while stroking your hair.
She'll buy matching clothes, jewerly or nail polish, because she loves when you two match your outfits or other accesories.
i wanna be your girlfriend - girl in red
⤷ Jacob Black - whatever it takes
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Jacob is willing to do anything and everything for you, his imprint. He will kill for you, he will die for you, he will do just everything.
Jacob can be sometimes insecure because he isn't that rich like the Cullens and he thinks you deserve someone who will treat you like a queen, so once again he's willing to prove you that he's worthy of your love.
He'll make you a small wolf and your favourite flower out of wood and attached it into a bracelet, which he will eventually give you to your birthday.
He's also a big cuddle bug, because he's so warm will make you comfortable enough to fall asleep. He's most of the time the big spoon because he feels like he's protecting you but he doesn't mind to be the little spoon. Cuddling also leaves his scent on you so every vampire or shape-shifter (wolf) can smell who you belong to.
He'll take you on motorcycle rides. Also he will drop you at your school on his motorcycle and then he will pick you up. Also he'll let you ride on his back while he's in his wolf form.
Jacob doesn't like fancy restaurants, he prefers his or your bed with some snacks and movies, cuddling of course!
Galway Girl - Ed Sheeran
⤷  Seth Clearwater - love at first sight
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Seth hoped that he will met his imprint someday and he heard from the others how amazing the feeling is to imprint on someone, but no one really prepared him to him because when he first saw you, your beauty hit him like a brick. And he finally understood the feeling because all he could see was you...
Seth will make sure you are always in a good mood with him, either he could tell you some stupid joke or cheesy pick-up line.
He maybe look like a cute baby but don't let his cute face fool you because he won't hesitate to kill for you, so it makes him really protective over you.
In his wolf form he's like a big puppy but only to you and he loves giving you piggy back rides in his wolf form.
Cuddling really depends on his mood; if he's in good mood he will be the little spoon with his head placed on your lap; if he's in a bad mood (mostly when he's jealous) he'll be the big spoon to show others that he can protect you.
He loves baking with you but he's clueless so he will just stand there and watch you or mix some ingredients, often sneaks up a kiss on the cheek while baking.
Dandelions - Ruth B.
⤷  Leah Clearwater - enemies to lovers
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At first Leah hated the fact that she actually had a imprint, so she would try to stay away from you as much as possible and when she couldn't; she would have some nasty comments towards you, but it hurt her as hell when she saw how sad she made you or worst insecure.
She tried hard to stay away from you but she failed, miserably. She needed you, she needed to be with you, so she will explain everything to you same as she would apologize for her acting.
Very protective of you, anyone could just try and test her patience.
At first she wouldn't want you to be near her while she was in her wolf form because she was much bigger and stronger so she was afraid that she could hurt you, but she became a sucker for scratches behind her ear.
Seth will often tease his big sister because she's really soft when it comes to you, which makes Leah give Seth few playful slaps.
When it comes to cuddling, Leah is the big spoon because she has the urge to protect you and being the big spoon makes her feel like she's protecting you in you sleep.
Running With The Wolves - AURORA
⤷  Paul Lahote - rough love
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With the term 'rough love' i mean that Paul is passionate lover and is willing to do anything for his imprint, you.
Paul isn't very patient when it comes to people but you are an exception. Still he's aggressive when someone push his buttons but you are always here to drag him away and calm him down.
Just a single touch and Paul's full attention is on you. Which brings me to the fact that he turns into a puppy when you touch him, your touch is just to comforting.
He's the big spoon because he feels like he protects you and it makes his scent stay on you.
He can get jealous very easily, he trusts you but he doesn't trusts the others and he doesn't want any boys or girls too close to his imprint.
Loves everything you cook or bake and will always eat everything.
Overprotective, if any vampire even dare to touch you, he'll kill him.
Little Freak - Harry Styles
⤷ Charlie Swan - old love
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Charlie is old school but still a huge gentleman.
He will bring you flowers every time you had a bad day and some chocolates when you had a good day to make it even better.
He loves watching old movies or crime/detective movies with you, with his arm around your shoulder.
When he has day off, you two will go on a picnic date which always ends up with you laying on his chest while he's telling you some stories from work.
Every time you bring him a lunch into his police office, he will welcome you with a warm, thankful smile and thank you with a kiss on your cheek.
He will protect you even more than before, when he finds out that there are vampires and werewolfs (shape-shifters).
Burning Love - Elvis Presley
⤷  Bella Swan - teenage love
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Bella will be awkward and nervous when she first spoke to you, because you were just too beautiful to be real. But to her surprise she made you fall in love with her which made her so, so happy.
First attempts of trying to cuddle with her or just show her simple romantic affection were awkward because she was just to nervous, eventually she will warm up and feel more comfortable.
She find our that you touch calms her anxiety and nervousness so whenever she's nervous or anxious she will just hold your hand and squeeze it gently.
Charlie was very happy that his daughter found someone like you, which made Bella even more happy when she saw how you, the love of her life and her father get along.
Often having sleepovers at her house when Charlie has night shifts, which always leads to matching face masks and cuddles.
Kisses on the cheek are her favourite, because she can easily turn and give you small peck on your cheek and visa versa.
Electric Love - BØRNS 
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lady-ashfade · 4 months
Text
Our comfort
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Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader. (Percy, Annabeth, Grover)
—£ Yes I know I haven’t finish the book but I actually couldn’t wait anymore. So, this is me with little knowledge so bare that in mind.
—£ Warnings: Book/show spoilers, Yandere! Behavior, Being bound to a place, Possessive behavior, Obsessive behavior, Manipulation, Characters fighting for the reader’s attention. Short.
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You weren’t a known for too long goddess, much younger then rest of the gods. A teenager like age compared to them. It was strange to have more powerful gods look to you for comfort but you love it. As you are the goddess of comfort.
But, as the other gods started to have many demigods you saw how miserable they could get. You hated the fact they didn’t care for their children so you decided to stay at the camp for half-bloods when the time came.
The campers cling to you. You bring a comfort they never quite felt before. It was like a warm hug, like the ones they wanted from their parents.
You couldn’t leave, and at the beginning you were glad to accept that fate.
Almost always you are found surrounded by demigods and they just relax in your comfort. You are the one they go to with every worry in their mind.
Being close to Aphrodite, her seeing you as a sister and a younger child. Stories of your love for one another are still told today, as she gave ideas to the mortals of how great your relationship was. But in reality there wasn’t much to tell.
So her children have a mentality that they are your favorite and because of their mother, they have some sort of claim to you above the others. But that never works because you love the children equally.
The demigods have less nightmares with you around and watching over them.
Ares children fight often for your affection. They will constantly get into fights with others to show they deserve more time with you. Which you always scold them but it never sticks. They kiss their weapons each time to you, like a sign of good luck. Aries children are one of the worsts ones because they get aggressive at times, even with you. But the golds make them stop by punishing them, mostly their father.
Hermes children are hard to explain really. They aren’t aggressive, but they are mischievous. They take their revenge of stealing things from the other campers, pulling pranks. Or trapping some of them up and go straight to you before they can get there. Luke for instance, is always looking around for you and talking about his day. He’s either laying down next to you, or making you watch him train.
Many games of all houses take place just for you.
AnnaBeth, is constantly by your side when she has free time. She scares off people with a glare behind your back, knowing that she could put plan them. She also trains and makes you watcher her and needs your praise. Maybe, somehow you are her older sister. But, sometimes she just chills by your side not saying anything, she’s like a lost duck at times.
Grover however is actually a lost duck. You comfort him when his past missions fail and he loses kids. You are so nice to him and makes him feel special and brave. When he has to leave he keeps a coin in his pocket with your face on it and prays a lot. He’s not possessive much. He’s willing to take what he can get and is just happy to be there. But maybe if someone comes in when he’s “crying” and having you fuss over him then he’ll be a bit mad but never does anything about it.
When a new camper arrives you devote your time to them because they need it a little more. They come into a world they know nothing of, waiting for the parent they hardly know to claim them. You claim them like your own until the time comes.
So when Percy comes you feel something off with him, like he is special and in need of a lot. He lost his mom, taken from the world he knew.
Percy becomes the most possessive out of all of them.
He feels out of place but you are always there to listen to him. It doesn’t help that you follow him to make sure he’s okay. At the beginning you’re both following each other around.
“It’s okay, Percy.” You brush his hair lightly like his mother used to do. “You’ll get claim, and you’ll have glory.” And he doesn’t care if you say that to everyone because you make him feel special. 
Also, you protect the new bloods. So you’ll show up when he gets bullied and just raise one brow and they all back off. Can’t risk making you mad at them.
When Percy gets claimed he’s all alone again, no friends and the campers looking at him funny. Being one of the top threes son isn’t fun or easy. He shares a cabin all to himself.
So he starts to be the worst of them all. Raising his voice when you try and leave him and he manipulates you to stay with him. Can’t you see how alone he is?
He can’t sleep unless he knows your watching over him.
You pick no sides of the war. Your family will figure it out themselves, while you take care of their children.
2K notes · View notes
ohbother2 · 2 months
Note
Hi! I don't know if you write for Adam, but this man has me in an unholy choke hold and I've literally read through all the Adam fics on this site already. I am begging, on my hands and knees, for you to please write an Adam x female reader smut oneshot. Literally anything you want.
I absolutely loved your Lucifer close proximity fic btw!! You're writing is literally insane and I just know you'd do Adam's character justice!
Thank youuuu
Thank you!! Sorry this is coming out so long after you sent it in, but hope you guys enjoy!
Also to other ppl reading this! I've seen your lovely messages in my inbox and I 100% intend on responding to them I'm just swamped with Uni work at the moment. But thank you all so much!!
This is literally pure smut btw, minors DNI!! Adam is very Adam in this. Lmk what you guys think I love to hear your thoughts! Especially because Adam is so hard to write!
Tag list - @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx
Adam x f!reader - After a Shitty Meeting with the Blond Short-Stack
To put it bluntly, Adam had had a particularly shitty day, and that was saying a lot considering there were absolutely no bad days in heaven. This day, however, had seemed to drag on for an eternity, and by the end of it he felt like punching a whole through every window that he walked past on his way home from work, having to walk instead of fly because he was too furious to trust his wings not to give out on him if he became too lost in thought. 
To summarise, he had had to meet Lucifer today, the pompous, prideful, wife-stealing piece of short-blonde-shit that lorded about Hell as if he wasn’t banished there purposefully for his sins. The meeting wasn’t in person, with him attending from Heaven and Lucifer attending from Hell, but simply being within any sort of presence of the blond gnome had his blood boiling and his fingers itching to grab the nearest weapon and shove it through his chest. And today, well, Lucifer had gone too far.
Sure, Adam may have started it with some comment about Lucifer’s daughters failing redemption-business, and how the timer was ticking until the upcoming extermination, but really, who was Lucifer to dare let your name spill from his lips? In a mockery of your and Adam’s relationship no less. 
That self-entitled little shit-eating smirk had graced Lucifer’s ridiculously rosy cheeks, and he had dared insinuate he could steal you right from under Adam’s nose the next time you went down to Hell, just like his two previous wives. He was thankful for his mask which had concealed the utter shock-horror that had overtaken his features at the insult, but he also wished Lucifer would have seen his absolute unbridled hatred once he had rebounded from the insult: if looks could have killed, Lucifer would have been incinerated on the spot. The comment had riled Adam up so much that Lute had had to step in to steer the meeting back on track, and it had taken all of his self-control, and Lute’s, to stop him from immediately teleporting down to Hell and blasting Lucifer to whatever the fuck came after Hell. He grumbles to himself angrily, hand rubbing at his temples as he finally reaches his front door. God, he just wanted to have a drink and go to bed, where hopefully he would dream about murdering Lucifer and lording it up with you above his grave. Maybe you guys could make out right next to his grave, that would really prove a point. 
He slams the front door shut harsher than he should have, and immediately storms through the house, desperate to just see you in one of the rooms – he’d even break into the bathroom even if you were mid-shit if he had to, he just had to see you. 
“Babe?” He calls, wings tucked tightly against his back as he prowls the corridor, poking his masked head into each room he came across, finally relaxing when he saw you relaxing with a book curled up in the loveseat in the living room. 
“Adam!” You grin over at him, and the tension in his shoulders shifts at the sight, releasing a tight breath as you perk up as he approaches, tucking your bookmark back into place and waiting for him expectantly. Of course you would be here, he reprimands himself, furious that Lucifer could get to him in such a way; where else would you be? “How was your day? You had that meeting right? Did it go well?” You rapid-fire your questions, and you suddenly frown as he approaches. “You’ve still got your mask on, it didn’t go well.”
“Yes, hello sugar, it’s nice to see you too, damn.” He mutters, frustrated at himself for being so easy to read, and frustrated at you for reading him so easily, finally coming to a stop before you. “Can’t a man just wear his cool-ass mask? I just forgot, okay?” 
“You can do anything you please, I’m just worried.” You look up at him sympathetically, and he immediately knew his tough-guy act was immediately lost on you. Who was he kidding? Today had been particularly shit, and he just wanted to be with you. Not to ease his worries, no, no, he was secure in his relationship, confident in his charm (he was fucking Adam, who could compare?) but just… because he wanted to be with you.
He wasn’t even convincing himself. 
“Want to talk about it?” You ask softly, watching as he tugs the mask from his face and places it against the coffee table. His hair was a mess, and you could see the way his brows pinched into a light frown as he attempted to hide his frustration. 
“Fuck no.” He shakes his head. “You’re right, the meeting went shitty. That pompous little prick-“ He cuts himself off, pursing his lips lightly as he stares down at you. He didn’t want to tell you what Lucifer had said. He knew you wouldn’t suddenly act on what he had said, but still, he daren’t even breathe the possibility into existence. “I just want to be home, with you.” 
“I think I can help with that.” You grin, shuffling over on the love seat and staring up at him expectantly, an absolutely lovely smile on your rosy lips.
"What would I do without you?" Adam questions, sitting down next to you heavily and leaning in for a proper kiss. One of his large hands falls to your waist as he leans in closer, your back leaning against the arm of the armrest as he approaches, slender fingers weaving into the locks at the nape of his neck to hold him closer. He pulls away for a moment, pressing heavy kisses against your jawline, eyes closed to the world and enjoying the feeling of your fingertips against the nape of his neck. 
"Is there anything else I could help with?" You utter softly, head tilting back to expose your neck. A sudden grin takes over your features. You were about to play with fire, but you couldn't help yourself. "Perhaps give Lucifer a talking to?" 
"Why," he growls, pressing one last kiss beneath your ear before he pulls back, both hands falling to your twisted hips. "would you mention that old fucks name when I have my lips against you." 
"Just trying to help." You bats your eyelashes playfully, a laugh escaping you at his furrowed expression. 
"I seem to recall you saying 'anything I please' not only five minutes ago." He leans closer, a hand grasping the armrest you leant against, caging you in with a devilish grin. "This is how you can help. Distract me." 
"Adam!" You mock, palms sliding up his biceps and resting against his chest as you lean further back, further from his lips. His eyes narrow in frustration. "I fear you have misunderstood-"
"You know exactly what you were doing, babe." 
A flash of pearly white teeth as you laugh again, fingers pulling at his lapels to drag him closer. "I'm afraid I don't."
His lips cover yours as a hand slides beneath you, a hand grasping firmly at your ass as he sucks all air from your lungs, a moan rewarding his efforts. Adam moans as a hand tugs at his locks, pulling your waist closer as he bores down, a knee sliding up your skirt and forcing your legs to part, falling freely without encouragement. Your red silk skirt bunches up around your waist, guided by his hands to expose your milky thighs to the cool air. You gasp against him.
"You going to be good for me?" He mumbles against your lips, large hands guiding your hips, thigh rubbing at your heat through the thin layer of your underwear. "You going to be a good girl and distract me?" 
You hum in response, vocalising your pleasure as his tongue slides into your mouth, not even bothering to put up a fight as Adam hungrily licks into your mouth, grip forcing your hips to shift against his own as you grasp at his biceps. 
"You’re such a fucking tease." He moans between kisses to your skin, hands tugging fabric from your collarbone as he kisses lower. "If I wasn’t as generous, I’d make you do all the work tonight." He presses another deep kiss to your lips, caging you between his arms and nestling between your parted thighs. "Lucky for you I’m fucking pissed." 
"Adam." You groan quietly, eyes fluttering as he licks his way down the column of your throat, teeth grazing your hot skin as he yanks your top down your shoulders. He doesn’t bother unhooking your bra, splitting it down the middle with a grin and ignoring your complaints with a harsh bite into the skin of your breast. Adam grins against your reddening skin as his free hand comes up to grip your other breast, rolling the bud tightly between his fingers as he sucks and bites around the swell of your breast. He groans at the feeling of your hands gripping his broad shoulders, fingers edging closer and closer to his wings, hips rolling forward and cock twitching in his garments. He delves forward, warm mouth wrapping around a pert nipple without warning, Adam pays you no mind when you gasp at a particularly hard nip, suckling hungrily as his left-hand travels lower to press your hips up and against him. Your head lolls back as he groans around your bud, thrusting his hips against your clothed core. He continues, on and on, until the pained groans turn into pleasured whines, your thighs quivering around his hips and hands carding through his locks.
He pulls away for air, pressing sloppy kisses along the wet skin at your chest. "Look at you, I’ve not even touched you and you’re whining like a bitch." He groans, pressing a kiss to the swollen nipple pinched between his fingers. "I know I’m good, but this is pitiful babe. Fucking desperate.”
You had half a mind to remind him that he was the one that had stormed into your living room and practically demanded you attention after a shitty day, but with his mouth against you and hands gripping your thighs like his life depended on it, you were happy to remain silent, breathing airily as he sucked harshly at your skin. 
“I’d be a pretty shitty husband if I just left my wife like this, huh?"
“Adam-“ You go to warn at his mockingly coy tone, him having played this hard-to-get game before and leaving you wanting until it was actually you desperate for his touch, and not the other way around. This time, however, he didn’t have the patience for such games, your voice dying with a hitch of breath as he latches onto your other nipple, free hand travelling beneath your skirt to the damp spot growing against your underwear. He circles the damp fabric, feather-light and teasing, not yet touching the place you craved the most. 
"Adam, baby," You breath heavily, chest heaving as he continues to lavish a pert nipple with his tongue, hands tugging at his robe and sliding down the smooth skin of his chest. "Adam, please."
With a harsh nip he unlatches from your chest, peering down at you with dark eyes, the gold barely glinting in the dim light of the room, breathing heavy. A smirk tugs at his lips, brunet locks falling in front of his eyes as you continue to work yourself against his thigh, wide eyes shining and whining pathetically. 
"Please, what?" He shifts, clothed cock pressing harshly against your groin, rutting once, twice. "Fuck you? Make you feel good? Feel better than anyone else ever could?” He rolls his hips again, you whimper. "Or, please stop? Leave you in this state? Return to my duties?"
"No, no- please," your breath hitches as he bites at the soft mound of flesh below your right nipple, a trail of red and purple left behind as he nips lower. "Please, fuck me." Your hands finally dig into his wings, close to where they joined at his back, fingertips digging into the feathers and tugging lightly. You can feel the way his hands tighten either side of your ribcage, and you can see the way his pupils dilate as a red hue creeps up his neck and flushes the skin of his cheeks.
"Fuck," he moans, cock twitching in his breaches. His thumbs dig into your abdomen as his hands clench against your hips, stopping you from moving against him. God, this was exactly what he needed after this shitty day. You must have been some sort of Saint in disguise. "You fucking tease, fucking hands in my-“ He has to stop when you tug again, and he glowers down at you as your nails scratch their way down the centre of his golden wings, the tips twitching as he tries to remain in control. 
“Oh yeah, baby? That's how you want to do this?" His voice had deepened to the familiar gravelling husk that you loved so dearly, and you can do nothing but nod fervently, the sound going straight to your core. You knew exactly what you were doing toying with his wings, and he knew just as well as you what that meant. Adam takes in the sight before him; the heaving chest, the perfect slender column of your exposed throat, the exposed milky-white of your spread thighs, the wide glossy eyes just pleading for him to move. He breathes deeply at the way your skirt bunches around your waist, your whole body on show except from a pathetic soaking pair of underwear. "Fucking perfect."
A rough hand suddenly against your throat has you falling boneless against the armrest, eyes rolling as Adam’s fist tightens, his wings twitching upwards as your hands fall to noncommittally pry at his fingers around your neck. 
"Hng, please-" You rasp, spreading your legs as far as the backrest of the loveseat would allow, hands clenching into the fabric of the sofa beneath you. 
"You'll get fucked," Adam whispers harshly against your ear, free hand sliding your ruined pants down your thighs. "but not until I'm done with you."
"Adam-"
"It’s been a fucking shitty day," he begins, a singular finger sliding between your folds and gathering the wetness that had gathered. You whine, straining against his hold on your neck. "and the one thing that’s gotten me through it is knowing I get to come home to this perfect piece of ass." He grins, feeling your pussy clench at the tip of his finger. "So I’m taking my fucking time with you."
A singular finger finally enters your swollen, aching, core, mouth falling open in a silent moan at the contact, finally. The sounds that echo around the room are obscene, wet and thick as his fingers curl, digging against that sweet spot inside of you. 
"You hear that, sweety?" Adam murmurs mockingly against your lips, the pet-name dripping with irony as he kisses down harshly, a kiss you could only hope to keep pace with, never mind reciprocate. "You fucking filthy girl." A second enters, easily, coated in your slick within seconds as he draws moans from your lungs. He leans back, watching you flush and gasp beneath his hands, fingers pulling non-comically at the fist he had around your neck. A third finger enters, and this time, he feels the stretch. 
"God, Adam-" You squeal, hips raising from the loveseat as he continues, the sinful sounds only getting louder and louder. You moan with every thrust of his fingers, hands gripping at the material of your shirts beneath you. You groans at the fiery pain in your walls, but your eyes roll at the pleasure that had started to build. 
"So fucking wet, and all it took was the thought of being with me. At least you know how lucky you are babe, fuck-" His grip tightens around your neck, a fourth finger entering, and you scream, or would have if you had the oxygen to. A pathetic choking wail comes from your throat, and you clench tighter around his digits, hips chasing his hand with every thrust. 
"I'm- I'm going to-" You sob as he picks up his pace, the sounds omitting from you downright sinful. Your thighs shake as your body goes rigid, mouth falling open in a silent scream.
Adam doesn't stop, eyes trained on his wife's face as you come undone beneath his fingers, hips jerking wildly as he thrusts and curls inside of you. It is only when your eyes flutter and legs fall slack that he stops, pulling his hand out from between your thighs with a sickening pop, fluid coating his hand and your inner thighs. 
You blink heavily, gasping for breath as you finally return to your surroundings, feeling devastatingly empty but more than satisfied. Adam barely gives you a moment before he’s kissing you deeply, teeth tugging at your swollen lips and a hand winding into your hair to tug your head exactly where he wanted you. He doesn’t break the kiss as he scoops you into his arms, your hands grasp at his neck and shoulders as he carries you towards the bedroom.
He throws you down roughly on the edge of the side of the bed, shucking off his robe, trousers and pants quickly, hard and weeping cock springing free, red and painful at the neglect, balls heavy and painfully sensitive. You wiggle out of your red skirt, kicking it onto the floor as Adam clambers over you, knees pressed against the mattress. He slides his hand along your inner thighs, which part without question, gathering the wetness that coated them. He pumps his cock lazily, once, twice, abs clenching as he breathes deeply. 
"I'm gonna fuck you so good you forget that cunts name.” He mutters more to himself, and it takes you a moment to realise who he was talking about. Ah, he hadn’t taken your comment about Lucifer earlier well. He never did. You can’t help but feel excited, as exhausted as you already were, Adam always got so competitive after a comment like that, and you always left the situation just as smug and satisfied as Adam felt. “Hope you haven’t got any important shit tomorrow, babe,” He comments, leaning over you and shrouding your smaller form with his large body, grinning down at you with a wickedness better suited to hell than heaven. “because it’ll be a miracle if you can walk.”
"You’re talking an awful lot." You comment, but your panting doesn’t give it the mocking you were hoping for. His wings flatten when your comment registers, and the golden feathers bristle as you continue. “You’ve yet to actually fuck me, I wonder if Lu-“
Without warning he thrusts forward, groaning hotly against your throat as his wings raise. You whine at the stretch, and your hands quickly burrow back into his wings as he bullies his way into you, forcing himself down to the hilt and not allowing you time to adjust. “Don’t you fucking dare say his name.” He hisses against your throat, biting at the skin harshly. He draws back, tip resting just inside your opening, and then surges forward, burying himself to the hilt, setting a brutal, staggering pace. You whimper in pain and pleasure at the abrupt pace, but fall into it as he thrusts, legs winding around his hips and anchoring him in place. 
Adam groans into your skin with every thrust, unabashed and unashamed, the wet warmth between your thighs melting away his worries. His fingers dig painfully into the divots of your hips.
"You're my girl, no one else’s, my fucking girl." He groans, balls slapping against your ass as he thrusts, seizing your thighs and pushing them up towards your chest, folding you in half and giving you no choice but to breath and take it. "Clearly I’ve not been doing my job if you’ve had time to think about him, don't worry baby, I'll fix that."
"Adam," You moan at the new angle, his cock hitting that special spot inside with every thrust, legs shaking with every thrust. "please, please, please, I don’t-"
"Fucking slut, begging for my cock." He punctuates his sentence with a particularly hard thrust that has you keening, back arching from the crumpled bedsheets. 
Suddenly, without warning, he pulls out completely and your high dissipates violently as you gasp and shoot upright, trying to tug him back down by his wings. "No, no, please-"
Large rough hands grab at your body as you are flipped around, hands scrambling for purchase and legs like jelly as you’re repositioned, locks falling into your face as Adam thrusts back in, hands gripping your hips as he pounds. 
"You wanna act like a slut?" He drills his cock into you from behind, large hand pushing at your tail bone to force your back to arch. You comply easily, and you’re rewarded with a fist grabbing at the globe of your ass and slamming you back towards him with painful force. "I'll fuck you like a slut."
A tender hand runs up the column of your spine and you shiver, gasping into a moan as he gathers your hair in one tight fist and yanks. 
"Oh! Oh Adam-"
Every slap of your ass with his hips has your head lurching back with the grip he has on your hair, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he thrusts, the harsh sound of slapping skin filling the room. 
"Adam, ‘s too much," Your moans cut your sentence short, fists gripping the bed sheets as he pounds relentlessly, scalp stinging and pussy aching at the unforgiving stretch. "Please, I can't-"
"You fucking can." He growls, releasing your hair and shoving your head forward with a hand at the back of your neck, leaning forward to place wet kisses at the centre of your spine as he thrusts down. "I’m not done with you, so you're gonna fucking take it."
You moan pathetically into the bed sheets, fingers curling into the fabric either side of your head as your pussy throbs, a familiar searing heat coiling in your abdomen and tingling along your spine.
"We’re not done until you get that you’re mine, my bitch, and no one else can give you this, understand?" His large hands anchor themselves at your waist as he thrusts impossibly harder, sweat beginning to bead down his chest and stomach. No doubt bruises would be left behind, the thought of your perfect flesh, your perfect ivory skin, marred by his fingerprints only drives him further, his balls beginning to tighten.
"I'm- I'm - wait!" Adam doesn't listen to his wife's pleas, supporting your shaking hips with his large hands as he fucks you into the mattress, grinning past his exertion at seeing your thighs begin to quiver. 
Your cracked voice mewls into the bedsheets as your second orgasm builds, panting pathetically as you brace yourself, tears of pleasure beginning to stream down your cheeks. 
"Good fucking girl." Adam groans, feeling his own orgasm build, cock twitching within your walls. "Does my bitch finally get it? Huh?” Your lack of response doesn’t please him, and one of his large hands slaps the globe of your ass painfully as he continues his brutal pace. ‘'you gonna take it?"
"Please!" You finally wail, pussy clenching at the sheer anger in his voice, and beneath all the brovado, the desperation to know he’s doing a good job. And by God he was doing a phenomenal job. "So fuckin’ good Adam. I’m yours- yours.” You choke into the mattress when you feel his grip tighten against your hips, his hips stuttering at the praise. “Don’t stop. Adam, please, please-"
You wail pathetically, second orgasm crashing over you as you convulses beneath Adam’s cock, toes curling, legs only propped up with his large hands as you cry. “So, f-fuck– good.”
"Fuck." Adam groans as his own orgasm hits, balls tightening as he thrusts again and again, jerking uncontrollably as he empties inside of you, pumping his hips desperately. You can feel the air around you shift as his wings twitch, flapping powerfully with the concentration he pours into his final few thrusts, impossibly deep and hard as his arms flex against your lax figure. "Ah." He grunts, thrusting once, twice, collapsing on top of his shaking wife, cock buried to the hilt. His sweaty forehead presses between your shoulder blades, breathing hotly against your damp skin as you breathes shakily beneath him, catching your own breath as the aftershocks of your orgasm course through you.
"Fuckin’ perfect." Adam mutters gruffly against your skin, kissing tenderly as he straightens, hands landing on the globe of your red ass, slowly pulling his cock from you with a hiss. He watches with dark eyes as his cum gathers at your entrance, pushing a small trickle back in with a slick finger, causing you to gasp in surprise. 
Large hands, far gentler than they had been mere moments ago, grasp your waist and manoeuvre you around, laying your panting frame back onto the edge of the bed. Adam leans down to kiss you sweetly, rough hands grabbing a thigh each and pulling them up towards your chest as he leans, tongue slipping into your mouth and licking into your cavern as he repositions, a soft sigh falling from your lips and your hands dangling leisurely from his broad shoulders. 
He pulls back from the kiss, and you watch him with hooded eyes, unaware of the position you had found herself in until a thick cock-head presses at your weeping entrance once again. You look up, still panting, and Adam cannot help but feel utterly devoted to the sight in front of him, cock twitching back to full capacity; your cheeks shining from the tears that had spilled, lips puckered and swollen and invitingly red from the way he had nipped at them, the smattering of bruises that decorated your neck and chest. You were truly a vision, not a holy one, but absolutely divine to him.
"Adam, wait - I can't." You whimper breathily, hips pulling away from his cock. Too sensitive, too raw. Despite your reservations, Adam can see the way you breathe in suspense, the way your fingers flex against the bedsheets in anticipation. Hell, you weren’t even trying to close your legs in his grasp. You really shouldn’t have mentioned Lucifer’s name if you didn’t want this. He was nowhere near done.
"No?" He questions sarcastically, hands still pinning your thighs to your chest, golden eyes staring deeply into your own. "Looks to me like you can still talk back, that won’t do babe." Hands still grasping your milky thighs, Adam leans down, grinning before pressing a soft kiss right against your clit. You jerk, a cry falling from your lips. "Come on, sugar, you’re really tapping out so soon?" He rubs his cock against your folds, his cum coating his own flared tip, and your pussy flutters around him; you hiss out a whine. "What a shitty husband I’d be if I left you wanting, and from the look of you, I know you’re not done." He rubs his cock against you again, balls gathering the cum that had dribbled from your opening. You look up at him fervently, and you can see the determination in his heated gaze, and oh how that look had your core tightening as he leant impossibly closer. "Is my wife really done? I think she can take one more, one more, for me." 
You groan as he enters again, slowly, cock dragging against your slicked walls, and a squelch emitting from your conjoined bodies as he finally bottoms out again. Your legs twitch in his hold, and he grinds his hips, fighting the urge to thrust. 
Your mouth hangs open silently, eyes fluttering at the stretch to your over-sensitive core. Your nails tear at his shoulders uselessly, trying to distract yourself from the all-consuming pleasure, and the delightful sting has Adam clenching his jaw as he tries to remain composed. You can hear the shuddering breath he takes as he fights his instincts, pulling back just as slowly as he had entered, until the weight of his cock presses just inside your opening, and then thrusts back in, setting a slow, steady, hard pace. 
He recaptures your lips in a searing kiss, biting at your lip until you allow him to snake his way inside, sucking the little air from your lungs as he pants into you, brows furrowed in concentration as he fucks into you with his hips and licks into your mouth hungrily. This time, he allows your hands to dig into his wings from the start, his own hands remaining perched on your thighs and pinning you down to take his harsh thrusts. He grunts when your fingertips delve back into the ruffled feathers, stretching them out beneath your touch and covering your body possessively beneath his larger frame. 
"S-Shit babe.” He groans between thrusts, pace increasing silently. You can do nothing but moan pathetically, pussy aching and throbbing as your fingers dig deeper into his wings, and his shoulders tense at the intense pleasure that sparks all along his spine. "Fucking careful.” He tries to battle back his control that had begun to slip, and decides insulting you would mask the way your simplest of touches nearly had him finishing then and there. “F-fucking whore." 
You simply groan, eyes rolled into the back of your head and hands blinding searching for purchase as that tight coil begins to wind in your abdomen, hips beginning to shift against his quickening thrusts. Your voice pitches and cracks as he pummels that special spot inside of you, and your hands clench into fists in his wings. "Oh God- Adam, right there, fuck – so fucking good."
“I know baby, I’m fucking good, I know.” He grits through clenched teeth, ever the egoist. Despite his parroting of the compliments as if they were simple facts, the compliments go straight to his head and his cock, and something in his chest tightens at the way you continue to babble his praises. 
A particularly hard thrust has you gasping. "Adam, you’re so- so-" You couldn’t finish the sentence, but he got the message, and nearly cums with his next thrust, biting into your collarbone to distract himself from the praise.
Adam groans, balls already beginning to tighten. He yanks you closer as you continue to beg, forcing you in half as he pounds into you, cum spilling from around his cock as he thrusts again and again, your thighs slick with it. 
"Adam, please." You pant, all air forced from your lungs as he drills into you over and over again, pussy struggling as Adam’s cum is forced from inside you to make room for his cock. "I'm all yours."
"Fuck, baby." He groans, balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. He releases your right thigh, free thumb pressing into your swollen clit and rubbing hard. "Cum for me, I know you've got one more. One more and I'll fucking fill you, one more."
You shriek at the pressure on your clit, head thrown back as your legs shake. Chanting 'yes, yes, Adam, fuck.' between wails.
"You can take it, 'fuckin' take it."
He swallows your scream with a kiss when you finally tip over the edge, your hips shaking against his own as your stomach erupts in a fiery jolt of pleasure that travels from the tips of your toes to your fingertips, back arching from the bedsheets. Adam swears against your lips, nails almost breaking the skin of your thighs as he cums, shoulders and wings tense as he humps tightly, burying himself to the hilt and pressing as much of his weight onto you as he could. 
"Fuck, there you go." He groans, thrusting lazily, pressing you into the bedsheets, all of his weight forced onto your hips. "There you go."
You moan pitifully as his cock fully burrows itself to its hilt, both hands coming up to cradle the back of Adam’s head and shoulders as he allows his full weight to rest on top of you, face pressed against the crook of your neck, soft lips gently mouthing against a blossoming hickey, hips finally ceasing their aborted thrusts. You wrap your legs loosely around his hips as his hands curl beneath you, resting flat against your spine and securing you in his embrace. You sigh at the new angle, finally able to breath fully, and relaxes into the sticky sheets below, allowing Adam to lick at the bruises covering your neck and chest.
"You okay, baby?" Adam mutters softly, voice still unusually deep and gravelly as he comes down from his high, warm palms sliding against your sticky skin in some semblance of comfort, blunt nails scratching a light comforting pattern against your skin. He lifts himself up lightly, still burrowed within, sweaty brunet locks falling across his face and tickling your forehead. 
"Never better." You grin, exhausted and blissed-out, a familiar ache beginning to settle deep within, but uncaring for the discomfort after seeing the poorly-masked worried devotion in your husband's eyes. "You’re amazing, you know."
"I know.” He hums cockily, and you swat at his arm playfully as he grins. “I supposed you aren’t half bad, too.” 
Your head tilts in mock-offence, but the exhaustion and complete and utter satisfaction cloaking your eyes has you looking seconds away from passing out, and he chuckles at the sight. He studies you for a moment, mapping the flush to your cheeks and chest, the fraying of your elegant hairdo, the wet streams on your cheeks and the puffiness of your lips. His eyes travel lower, following a stream of bruises that caress your ivory skin all the way down to where your bodies conjoin. His eyes flicker back up and he grins cheekily, unapologetic and somewhat proud. 
With a comforting pat to your thighs, Adam leans down for a far more tender kiss, grunting against you as he removes himself from you, dick falling free as he clambers up the bed and carefully tugs your spent body along with him, nestling you tightly into his side as his wings drape off both edges of the bed. He grunts, tugging you further onto his chest, and you giggle as you swing your arms around his chest and neck, cheek pressed against his shoulder and his own pressed against the top of your head, strong arms encircling your waist and pinning you close.
“I should rant to you more about my shitty days if you’re willing to cheer me up like this.” He grumbles to himself, eyes closed as he breathes deeply, and you feel the rumble of his chest beneath you. “I can feel you looking at me. Shut your mouth and enjoy the moment unless you want to piss me off again.” 
“I didn’t even piss you off in the first place,“ You defend, rolling your eyes playfully at him. “but if you fuck me like that when you’re angry I’ll have to get you angry more often.”
“You want to go again?” Adam questions deftly, the exhausted surprise yet underlying giddiness in his voice almost making you laugh, if not for the fact that you were utterly and completely spent. 
“No, no, I’m more than happy. I was going to say we should shower.” 
He ‘humphs’ like a child, heavy arms not moving as you try to wriggle away from his grasp to begin running the shower. “What’s the rush? Give me ten minutes.”
“We’re disgusting.”
“Five minutes.” He mutters, rightening his hold on your waist. “You never know, in those five minutes you might want to go again, and then we’d save having to wash ourselves again, save the water bill and all that shit, y’know?”
“You’re disgusting.” 
“You married me.” He backhands childishly, pulling you in closer to his chest. “So that we can be disgusting together. Now shush and stop talking, I was enjoying the moment.”
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dark-and-kawaii · 6 months
Text
༺ 𝒯𝒾𝑒𝒻𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 ༻
Just some random headcanons I have for my three favorites, Zevlor, Dammon, and Rolan!! I hope you enjoy these!
Fluff - NSFW
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- 𝒵𝑒𝓋𝓁𝑜𝓇 -
Our soft sweet man is just such a softie in bed.
Zevlor is so afraid of hurting you while bedding you, he absolutely hesitates at first asking you if you're sure, if this is really okay, that he's not worth your time, and that he’s afraid you’ll get hurt.
You'll definitely have to be the one to initiate the relationship, and you're 100% going to need to be the one who initiates sex.
Loves when you rake your nails gently down his sides and won't stop you from playing with his tail... He gets really flustered when you go for his tail during sex. The way he moans as you rub your hand over the tip of his tail causes him to groan and moan, Zevlor tries to bite back the sound but at times it's hard to contain such noises.
This isn't a boy, this is an absolute man. Degrading nicknames are pretty much off the table for him simply because he has so much respect for you. Now you could probably convince him to say a few things here and there, but it's so out of character for him and he never thought his red skin could get much redder until you get him to call you his "whore". Zevlor will always tell you afterwards, “You know i didn’t mean that, correct? I would never look at you in such a way.”
He loves you and he wants you to know that, Zevlor never wants you to feel like an object. To him you are his person, his life partner who helped him save his people and defenseless children.
Oh gods, if you helped him keep the children safe that alone makes him view you in such a bright light. He loves kids and the thought of having his own has crossed his mind more than he'd like to admit.
Holding you in his arms is something he cherishes deeply, he worries it might be the last everytime so he always gives you one last tight, but soft, squeeze. It's almost like he's memorizing the feeling of your body against his.
Loves to pepper you with kisses while on top of you! Every time he finishes he brings his head up to look at you with a tender smile before saying, "I love you."
Whether it's after a passionate moment, or simply going to sleep this man will wrap his tail around your thigh. If Zevlor is spooning you he will drape his tail over your hip or legs. Not only does this comfort him but it also reassures him that he's not alone anymore and that he has someone to protect other than his people.
Zevlor will always sleep on the side closest to any door or cave entrance; that way he can be the first they attack, giving you time to escape. He's incredibly selfless.
This man gets incredibly worried if you come back to him with an injury of any kind! He might even scold you, “What were you thinking?!” Will tend to your wounds like a professional -he’s done this several times thanks to being a hellrider-, and once he’s done wrapping you he’ll hold your hand begging you to be more careful next time.
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- 𝒟𝒶𝓂𝓂𝑜𝓃 -
Is so awkward at first, like oh my god he is so awkward if he has a crush on you. Will hold your hand and just kinda shake it before letting it go.
Blushing and hiding his face is something that happens if you walk over to him just to admire his work.
He has a few moods in bed, soft, rough, and playful. Our incredibly handsome blacksmith has a dirty book stashed in his house so like common we all know he’s into some freaky stuff.
Will lift you in his arms before either tossing you on his bed or laying you down gently, always expect a kiss on your neck once he’s back on top of you.
If you don’t grab his horns while you two are connected he’s going to be disappointed, won’t ever say anything to you about it, but he loves when you play with them or use them as leverage while riding him.
I definitely like to think Dammon is an expert at shibari, so expect to be tied up. I think deep down he’d love to have you tied up while he works, teasing you every so often until he’s finished the sword he’s been working hard on.
Likes to graze your skin with his sharp teeth and nails, he loves the way you shiver in response.
Tail play? Absolutely a thing with our babe Dammon. He will tease your slit and clit with his tail and if you’re slick enough he’ll slowly push it inside you. He won’t ever purposely try to hurt you and if you wince the slightest he’ll withdraw his tail and apologize. Only when you’re comfortable enough will he try again.
Likes to wrap his tail around you in general. Dammon loves it when you visit him while he’s working because he knows you’ll come from behind to hug him and his tail just naturally curls around you.
He’s a tail guy, it's hard for him to control his tail at times but if he’s happy you’ll know not only because of his eyes but also his tail.
If you’re a tiefling expect his tail to be entwined with your own.
Coming back to him with an injury is something he never likes to witness. It hurts him, like it really hurts him. He isn’t some hellrider or fighter like you or zevlor, he’s just a simple blacksmith who isn’t that strong on the battlefield -we all saw that 8 HP-. So how in the hells is he supposed to keep you safe, even when he thinks he’s made the toughest armor and you still come back with a wound… Oh gods it kills him. He feels like he failed you and failed as a blacksmith.
Dammon will always want to tend to your wounds, it's the least he could do since he feels so crummy about it. Will get as gentle as he can be, he’s pretty quiet during the process and you’ll be the one asking him what's wrong. He’ll sigh and pause momentarily until he tells you what's going through his mind. A simple caress to his cheek is all it takes for him to smile at you before placing a kiss where he just patched up.
No doubt Dammon wants kids, plural. I think he’d like at least three children, the gender doesn’t even matter so long as they’re all healthy :,)
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- 𝑅𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓃 -
This bitch, this stubborn, high maintenance tiefling, GOD I LOVE HIM.
Let’s get one thing straight, he prefers to be on the bottom.
Rolan doesn’t mind being on top but he much rather you do the work so he can watch your hips grind down on him. Loves to admire your body, like he really likes to admire you. You’re the most stunning female he’s ever met, won’t tell you that of course, but he thinks it every single time you’re on top of him.
Doesn’t like quickies, sex is a form of art to him and he likes to take his time and be one with you. He didn’t pick you to be his because he wanted to get off quickly, he chose you because he loves you and likes to be in your presence. That’s a rare thing for him and he intends to take advantage of that.
There’s only one place he likes a good quickie and that’s when he’s at Sorcerous Sundries. It’s also when he takes the most control, pinning you against that bookshelf he was just rifling through, the books falling off the shelves, it’s chaotic but he surprisingly doesn't mind it.
Something Rolan really enjoys is when he’s reading a new book and you come to him wanting to be in his lap. He used to find it obnoxious and would tell you that he’s busy, but when you stopped your attempts it made him feel strange… He never had a family besides his siblings, what if he becomes the reason you run off… The thought of you abandoning him because of his attitude pushed him to start asking you if you’d like to sit in his lap while he studies. Rolan still found it infuriating at first, but the more he allowed it the more he started to enjoy it. Now he finds himself holding you as if you’d vanish with one arm, his hand always resting at your thigh or the small of your back with his book in the other all while smiling pleasantly.
Has zero interest in kids, like it's going to take some convincing -even then good luck-. I can only assume he had a rough upbringing and I'm also assuming he was abandoned by his biological family. This has left a sour taste in his mouth when it comes to kids. “We have a perfectly good life now, why ruin it with a whiny one?”
Coming home with an injury??? Yeah you better expect, no you already know you wont hear the end of it. He’ll mock you for wanting to be the hero again and tell you how incredibly stupid it was of you to run off defending others when you should be more worried about yourself.
As he bandages your arm it's quiet, the only noise coming from the crackling fire. You’re silent, not wanting to speak with him after he berated you. Rolan is the one to speak up, telling you that he just worries. Its rare to see him with his walls down, even after being in a relationship for so long, but he breaks the walls as he stands to look at his bandage work. “You, Cal, and Lia are all i have… Please, don’t try something like this again. For my sake.” You aren’t sure what to say, he’s never sounded so hurt, so vulnerable. It’s the perfect time to tease him, “Are you getting sentimental on me?” He’ll just glare at you telling you to shush and to go get some rest.
Enjoys watching you, Cal, and Lia getting along. While you three joke and have your arms over one another’s shoulders while cheersing, Rolan can’t stop smiling. As soon as you turn around though his smile fades and he tells all three of you, “you’re all idiots, honestly.”
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the-peak-tmnt · 2 months
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Hey The Neon Void readers, quick update from the author's sister!
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(art commission by @kaysdenofchaos)
Hi readers of The Neon Void fanfic. This is the author’s older sister. She’s been getting a lot of fan art and asks lately. She’s sent me screenshots of a few unanswered ones looking for advice on how to respond.
While all the love and support of TNV is genuinely appreciated, my sister @sugarpasteltmnt is not equipped to respond to a small handful of these asks/comments that are, quite frankly, inappropriate.
Sugarpastels is not a therapist, and she’s certainly not an internet stranger’s therapist.
She’s an adult with an extremely demanding and stressful job for a very large client. Some of you have already experienced and enjoyed her work IRL without knowing it. Her company is close to finishing another project that will bring a lot of joy to hundreds of thousands of people every year, but working on a project of that scale is extremely stressful.
She is writing this fanfic for fun. TNV is a way for her to decompress and put her creative energy towards something other than work.
What’s not fun is coming home to asks/comments from readers who are projecting their own struggles/mental health onto TNV, and even Sugarpastels herself, and demanding some sort of attention from her over it.
Let’s be real: it’s fun to watch our blorbos suffer! So much of fandom is just us putting our favorite characters in Situations because it’s fun. Simple as that. But I think another reason TNV has resonated so strongly with readers is because of the way Sugarpastels writes the internal struggles of these characters.
We are both aware that TNV deals with mental health topics. Since the early days of “modern” fandom, fanfiction has been a way for people to explore complicated, difficult and sometimes even taboo subjects. There’s no shortage of complex feelings being explored in TNV, which is why we’re all having so much fun reading it.
But that’s all it is; an exploration. Sugarpastels is not a mental health expert. I’ve read a handful of books on PTSD and mindfulness for research while writing my own fanfic, and I would never consider myself prepared to help someone else.
It’s okay if you relate to things from TNV. I know I do! Again, fanfic has always been a way to read about things rarely dealt with (or handled poorly) in published fiction/tv shows/movies. I will always argue one of the greatest things about fanfiction and other fanworks is being able to see ourselves and our own struggles through our favorite fictional characters.
But Sugarpastels is not a fictional character. She’s a real person. Most importantly (to me at least) she’s my little sister, and this big sister cannot handle watching some of her readers expect more of her than is appropriate.
So I’m asking you to please be mindful of what you ask/say to not just her, but literally everyone on the internet. Unless you’re chatting with someone regularly, they do not know you. Whether it’s friends, family, teachers, coaches, etc, there are people in your life who know you personally, and are therefore better equipped to help you than a stranger on the internet.
Sugarpastels is so full of empathy that it’s hard to not feel for you when you send things like this. But it just isn’t fair to put that kind of unnecessary pressure on someone who is, at the end of the day, just trying to have some fun writing about ninja turtles bein’ sad.
(That being said, PLEASE DON’T BE SCARED TO SEND HER ASKS AND FAN ART!!! They make her day every single time and are seriously so, so appreciated. She’s texting me about it constantly how much she loves all of TNV’s readers. This whole post is really directed at an extremely small percentage of her readers, but there have been enough I felt something needed to be said.)
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writingwithfolklore · 2 months
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Writing Foundations: Creating Paragraphs
                You can have the best story in the world, but if it’s all in one chunk on the page, you may struggle to find people willing to read it. To break it up, you need to know where and when to create new paragraphs.
Every new paragraph starts with an indent. So, to create a new paragraph, hit the enter key, and then the tab key, which is typically on the left side of the Q and either says TAB or looks like two stacked arrows pointing in separate directions.
So when do you start a new paragraph?
1. Anytime a new character speaks
The most obvious place to break up your paragraph is when a new character is speaking. Take this example.
“Hi John,” said Mary as she walked into the room. John was reading a book, and tucked a bookmark between the pages as she sat next to him. “how was work?” “It was good,” she replied, “but my boss really didn’t like the draft I sent her.” “That’s too bad, I thought it was some of your better work.”
Vs.
                “Hi John,” said Mary as she walked into the room. John was reading a book, and tucked a bookmark between the pages as she sat next to him.                 “How was work?” He asked.                 “It was good,” she replied, “but my boss really didn’t like the draft I sent her.”                 “That’s too bad, I thought it was some of your better work.”
See the difference? So you make a new line whenever a new character is speaking. In the case of Mary speaking twice, “It was good…” “but my boss…” we keep that in the same paragraph. Whereas when John speaks after Mary, it becomes its own paragraph.
The only time you may split the same character speaking is if they have a large chunk of dialogue. In that case, you can split their dialogue according to the next rule.
2. Any new idea
This isn’t necessarily a hard rule like the last one is. We have a lot of room to make interesting creative decisions when breaking up description or action. For the most part, though, you’ll want to break up your paragraph whenever there’s a new thought or idea. So:
                A thin plastic film coated the room, making the furniture gleam in the sunlight streaming through the windows. On her right sat a couch upholstered in ivy coloured fabric, untouched by time.                 Anna swept her fingers through her hair, chewing on her lip. She watched Rick out of the corner of her eye, “What are you thinking?”                 The detective’s expression was completely neutral, though he clutched his pen tightly in one fist. In his other hand was a notebook, three questions written across it in blocky text, 1. Why are all the clocks stopped at 5:32? 2. Where’s the murder weapon? 3. Why did my wife leave me? “Same as the others,” he said, tapping his pen against the last question, “the plastic wrap killer.”
So in this example we go from describing the room, to describing an action Anna is doing, to describing the detective, and then his notes. These are all separate ideas, so we can split them into their own paragraphs.
                As well, as long as it’s about the same character or within the same ‘idea’, description can be paired with dialogue. You can see Anna’s dialogue comes after the description of her. You can totally do this, or you can split it into its own paragraph if you’d like. It looks natural where it is because Anna is the subject of the paragraph, and she’s also the one speaking.
                In the case of the detective speaking, his action comes between dialogue. Also allowed, since the detective is the subject of that paragraph.
3. Any new location or skip in time
Similar to the last, if the scene starts outside, when they move inside it’s a new paragraph. If they go into a new room, get into a car, etc. Any time they change location, it starts a new paragraph. Same for a skip in time. If you need to go from day to night, new paragraph.
Kayde looked anxiously up at the looming oak doors. The windows were dark, layered in years of dust and grime. It’s now or never, they thought. They pushed through the doors and into the foyer. Kayde seemed to wait there for hours, and by the time someone came to greet them, it was already dark outside.
4. For style/effect
                This is one of my favourite parts of writing. Once you nail when you should be splitting your paragraphs, you can start to play with splitting them for effect. I do this quite a lot. Take this example:
                She fixed an ugly stare at herself in the mirror, long locks of brown hair hanging in front of her eyes. A pair of sharp scissors gleamed at the edge of the glass, pinched between her fingers. Dania raised the scissors to her hair.                 Snip.                 A lock fell towards the sink, the edges rough and imperfect.                 Snip.                 Another.                 She chopped and hacked away at her hair until it was clumped in an unsightly pile over the drain of the sink, her head round and covered in patches where she didn’t quite get close enough to her skin.                 She was finally free.
                While the cutting of her hair could be in the same paragraph, it gives it more drama and effect when it’s split. Any time a character is going through something shocking or emotional, maybe try playing around with the paragraph to see if you can add some additional drama to it.
                Paragraphs can be as long or short as you’d like them to be, as long as you have intention behind it!
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There are some things Davenport knows.
He counts them sometimes, the things he knows.
His name; how to tie his shoes with twelve different knots; how the Madame Director likes her coffee.
The rules of playing Fantasy Chess, and how to cheat at Fantasy Chess too.
How to tell when someone is afraid
How to make his bed, so tight and neat he can drop a coin on it and it jumps, newly polished and gleaming, right back into his hand
How to bandage up to twenty different kinds of injuries
How to make the best sea chowder on the Moon Base, and also on the planet
How to press a uniform so it lasts a week and several explosions with no crinkled corners
How to organise reports with proper colour-coding techniques
Not a great many words, when it comes to that - slippery as fishtails, words, hard to grasp in the mind and impossible to put into his mouth
How to laugh, and how to cry
How to be helpful, if not always in the most efficient way
Some very complicated geometry and arithmetic, though not the word for geometry, nor how to write down an equation to explain how he got his results.His name, the names of his colleagues, where he is, what time of the day it is, what happened yesterday.
His name, his name, even when he doesn't know anything else, his name is Davenport -
Most days, anyway
He cries, sometimes, over bowls of spicy soup and at cute dogs, when someone leaves a book half-open on the table - when he sees groups of people laughing, and when he's alone for a long time. He is rarely alone. The Madame Director finds him, every time. Brings him biscuits and jam, shares puzzles, gives him folders to file.
She tries to teach him new words from brightly coloured books, sometimes. Not often; Davenport hates to make her unhappy, and she looks very sad, whenever he fails. He hates failing - this he knows for certain. But regardless of what he does, the Director is sad a lot of the time. Busy, busy; but she goes very still, late at night, and writes lists in strange languages with shifting characters, and then burns them, with a look on her face like stone, like a closed fist. He sweeps the ashes, afterwards; there's nothing in them he can understand.
No one sees her in those hours. Only Davenport is there, with no one else around. Davenport does not count as company, really. Or at least the Madame Director trusts him enough to let him see her when it's very late and she is very tired, and there is too much work for a night's rest.
It's nice, being trusted. Davenport likes it, likes his little tasks, his schedule and his friends. He knows every corner of the Moon Base, except the ones he is not supposed to enter; he has a little map sewn into his coat pocket, for when he forgets he knows every corner of the Moon Base.
He loves slow music, and sea chowder, and to drink his tea (the Director makes it, sometimes; she knows just how he likes it) while standing behind the transparent windows and watch the planet down below, all green and blue and changeful, like a face with many moods.
He knows he likes these things.
It is only that, sometimes, Davenport is very full of a painful feeling, a feeling like being full of smoldering fire, a feeling like --
Anger has no face, no colour. Davenport does not know a lot of things; sometimes he grasps at the softened edges of his mind, looking for something sharp enough to cut himself with. Davenport is angry, sometimes, though he has no words for it. Sometimes, anger is the only real thing in Davenport's world, the first thing he ever knew.
And then he forgets about it.
There are few things Davenport knows. He can feel the shape of something very important, prodding at him, filling him up with a warm, unpleasant energy. It is there when he wakes, for a handful of moments - every day, in the dreaming place between wakefulness and sleep. Like a dream, it fades before he is done dressing for the day. He has no words for it. The truth is, most days Davenport only knows his name is Davenport, and the worst of it is Davenport forgets there might be anything missing.
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sugurusbabygirl · 3 months
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their favorite position
characters aged up obvi
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Dabi:
Spooning
Sure, he's got commitment issues, but that isn't why it's his favorite. He's usually too tired to have any fun with you by the time he comes home, so the only time he really has with you is in the mornings. Waking up with you in his arms is the best way to start his day. Well....second best, only to rocking his hips into yours while he gently kisses the back of your neck. Clinging onto your hips with a sleepy yet firm grip, his soft panting tickling the shell of your ear.
"Mmm, had a dream about you. S'technically your fault I woke up so hard." "Gonna give me something to think about while I'm gone?" "F-fuck, how're you so tight in the mornings?"
Izuki:
Cowgirl
A step above missionary in his book. He loves the intimacy of being able to press his forehead to yours and watch every twist and twitch of your pretty little face. But having you on top is truly something else. He's smiling like an idiot, watching you try to bounce through the ache in your tired muscles. When you slow down, or show any signs of exhaustion, he'll grab your hips and do all the work for you.
"I got you, baby, just-ngh-just keep your eyes on me, okay?" "So good....feels so.....oh my god." "Hey, open those pretty eyes, c'mon. That's it, so good for me."
Katsuki:
Doggy
Mans got rage issues. After a long hard day of work, he's bound to need to take it out (consensually) on someone. And that someone always ends up being you, bent over the kitchen counter, bathroom sink, mattress, doesn't matter to him. He grips your hair in one hand with the other clinging tightly to your breast, pounding into you until you're reduced to pathetic cries and choked whimpers.
"No, no, sweetheart, you're gonna stay right there 'till I'm done with you." "Y'wanted to help me relax, right? Be a good girl and take it, then." "Shit, feels good, right? Knew you liked it like this-ah fuck!"
Keigo:
Missionary
....but with your legs bent over his shoulders. Eye contact is everything to him, so you better keep them open. He takes it nice and slow, savoring the look on your face, your soft moans, your scratches on his back. He's teasing you, knowing you want him to go faster. But your pleas fall on deaf ears, getting nothing but a sly smile and a hand snaking down between you two to rub tiny circles on your clit.
"See, I knew you could be louder, baby girl." "Feels so good, takin' me this deep, holy shit." "Ngh-fuck, shh, shh, you can take it, baby c'mon."
Aizawa:
Ballet Dancer
Otherwise known as 'fucking you against the wall the minute he gets home'. He doesn't even take a second to take his hero suit off completely. Your face is the first thing he wants to see when he comes home.....and your tight cunt squeezing around him is the first thing he wants to feel. It's fast and rough, don't misunderstand, but his hands caressing your cheeks, getting tangled in your hair, soft kisses pressed to your neck.....makes it feel almost romantic.
"Missed you so much today, love. Couldn't get you off my mind." "Aw, your legs are tired? Poor baby, I'll help you. Better? Good, hold on tighter, love." "Fuck.....c'mon you know you can scratch harder than that. Ah! Yeah....keep going...."
masterlist <3
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mythrilthread · 1 month
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My magnum opus, the jewel of my Binderary round-up, the result of four months of hard work (that is to say, a lot of force applied over distance), the project affectionately known as The Motherfuckers (because it was rather unclear if I was going to finish these books or if they were going to be the end of me).
Force over Distance by cleanwhiteroom. It is currently also on AO3.
I was first introduced to this incredible story by a dear friend, who first sold me on actually watching SGU, and then said that they remember this fic since like 2011, which is always a promising sign. I went digging and found out I was in luck - the story was being rewritten and reuploaded on the author's blog. The next two weeks are described by the same friend as "one of the scariest moments in our cohabitation" as I'd spent literally every waking moment injecting the story directly into my eyeballs, and let me tell you, I'd not been doing a lot of sleeping at that time.
Then I gathered up my courage and reached out to CWR re: my burning desire to bind this story. And the rest, well. Let's dig into it, shall we?
This was my first time typesetting 540k words. Considering I tend to prefer larger font sizes for increased legibility, it was immediately obvious that this was going to be a multivolume project. I settled on three, as it's the relationship between three individuals that forms the core of the story.
I also knew I wanted to keep the typeset in black and white, but play around with light and dark a lot. So I did. One of the first design idea I actually had was the way I wanted to handle projected speech. Mental link between Young, Rush and Destiny is THE most vital part of the story, and I wanted to make it immediatly obvious. I also wanted to be able to take one glance at the page and tell how much of the action is actually just two guys staring each other down :) Hence the blackout effect of thoughts being represented as light over darkness.
I also wanted to preserve as much of my reading experience as possible. So I saved all the chapter quotes/summaries in the TOC, and hid the chapter content warnings in the frame of the gate that marks the beginning of each chapter. For most of the chapter the warnings stay the same, so after a while you stop really noticing them, but then you open a new chapter and see that the familiar shape of the words has changed, and get this UH-OH feeling. Which, I think is very much how it works in my design, because when the warnings change there's usually another line of text added.
For flashbacks and dream sequences I switched from italics to a lighter shade of gray. I woudn't say it's more legible per say, but it's in keeping with the overall light/dark theme.
There are instances of people using handwritten notes in the story. I collected more than a dozen of assorted handwriting fonts, with each character having their own "handwriting". So when, for example, someone begins writing in someone else's hand, you immediately know it.
The most insane, labor-intensive part of the typeset, however, was the way I decided to handle the Ancient translations. CWR's gone through the trouble of setting up hover-to-discover for it, which gives you a very different reading experience than, say, having the translations in the endnotes. So, naturally, I said to myself that I want to replicate that, and footnotes just won't do the trick. So. Every instance of Ancient in the text has an underlay of light gray Ancient script. And an OVERLAY of paper vellum with the translation printed in blue. Now, not to toot my own horn too much, but if looks SICK AS FUCK. You also MAYBE SHOULD NOT LIVE LIKE THIS. For the two copies of this work I had to cut up 10 sheets of vellum into strips, and then spent from 20 minutes to an hour per volume tipping the strips in their proper places. I then had to wear kinetic tape on both my hands to help with the joint pain. (It was worth it.)
Now for the title spread. It is also paper vellum that you see as soon as you turn the first page (the half-title), and see it covering the title of the book and author's name. And then you turn it. And the shields sing the matter wave of Destiny through the black. And yeah, I think that's very, very clever of me, actually.
Then, of course, were the endpapers. All 12 of them are unique abstract paintings done on black cardstock by hand with brush pens and correction tape, I scanned a sample of each set for posterity. All of them are my interpretations of characters' midscapes. For volume 1 I went with the fire wind of Rush's thoughts. Volume 2 was for Young, and I went for the reverse blackout poetry effect (because for all the mental talking they do, the unprojected thoughts are opaque to their counterparts) and all the loops, hairpins and blocks he does. Volume 3 is for the combination - Rush's fire wind, changing its color to match the circuitry pattern of Destiny's AI.
The rest, in comparison, is easy. All volumes are stitched with 3 strands of embroidery floss, a combination of black, blue and silvery-gray. The French double-core endbands are sewn in the same color scheme (though with a different shade of blue and gray switched for white for added contrast). The edges are painted and splattered to look like space.
The covers feature my (signature at this point, I guess) half-cloth river pattern, with the base being dark blue linen and the printed parts being Spitzer telescope images of the W51 star forge, Jack-O'-Lantern Nebula and the Eagle Nebula (courtesy of NASA), waxed by hand for added sheen. The spines are foiled in silver with a foil quill.
Each set is 5 pound of solid hand-crafted book, with one set being my personal copy, and the other sent as a gift to the author.
And that's it, folks! This has been an incredible project to work on, and I'm very proud of what I achieved with it.
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ellecdc · 2 months
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This is my first ever time requesting and i feel a tad nervous about it. Since i don’t know how the whole thing works.
Okay so i've seen in your previous posts that you said you don't write for barty jr as a central character but imma request anyways and maybe just maybe i'm lucky and you do end up writing this request (no pressure tho sweetie)
Basically a Ravenclaw reader x reg x barty. Reader is a total sweetheart but also very witty, playful and sassy in a sweet way. and marauders are also involved in the fic. (Maybe reader is neighbors with James or maybe she's beasties with rem. I don't mind. you decide that.)
Your moonwater x reader one shot was so cute and i’m just craving more of your writing.
Anyways thank you and also if you don’t want to write for barty just replace him with another character or just ignore this whole request. 💗
🤨🤨🤨🤨 I wanted to say no on account of I really don't know that I want to write for Barty BUT....you're just too cute and I love you too much and I didn't want to say no to you on your first request [which: thanks so much for bestowing me with such an honour]. 🤨🤨🤨🤨 cheeky little minx, I bet you did that on purpose 😉
So I present to you, for possibly the only time ever on ellecdc.... poly!bartylus x Ravenclaw!reader
CW: Barty jokes (?) about wanting to kill people - very on brand for him
“Reggiiieeeee.” Barty whined as he walked into their shared dorm room where Regulus had been reading due to the fact that Barty had taken up residence in the Slytherin common room, making reading nearly impossible.
Regulus stifled a sigh and offered a begrudging “yes, my love?” as Barty belly-flopped onto the bed and muttered something (unintelligible) miserably into the velvet quilts.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Regulus asked, deciding to bookmark his place and give his boyfriend his undivided attention (anything less could end up being detrimental to both Regulus and Barty’s safety).
Barty lifted his head with a pout on his lips to look at Regulus. “How mad do you think Y/N would be if I killed Potter and his friends?”
Point proven. 
“I’m sorry, what?” Regulus deadpanned, causing Barty to groan and roll onto his side.
“It’s just she’s always spending so much time with them and they’re all so annoying. And I don’t want to tell her to not hang out with them” (that was a lie; Regulus has heard Barty tell you that the Marauders were 'no good company to keep' well over hundreds of times) “so, I thought it’d just be better if they...disappeared, you know?”
“What have you done?” Regulus groaned darkly, causing Barty to chuckle.
“Nothing! Nothing...” yet. 
“You do realize that your hit list includes my brother, right?” Regulus asked.
Barty looked at him like he was sort of stupid. “Uhm...duh, it’s called hitting two bludgers with one beater-bat. Do keep up.”
“Barty, you are going to scare her away...” Regulus pressed. “...you’re kind of scaring me away.”
Barty’s groan nearly turned into a shriek as he threw himself back down onto the bed in defeat.
“Fine. But when we’re trying to enjoy a nice moment with Y/N and Potter and his cronies interrupt, it will be all your fault.” 
And with that Barty got up and stormed out of the dorm room. Regulus sighed in relief and pulled his book back out.
So, when the three of you were wandering around Hogsmeade (i.e., you and Regulus were walking hand-in-hand whilst Barty followed, balancing precariously on the stone walls of bridges as well as some fences lining various properties (much to the shop clerks and homeowners’ chagrin), pausing to pet every cat he could find and seeing how many times he could skip stones in the pond [the answer was none, he kept throwing them too hard]), Regulus got proven wrong (somehow), and (even more importantly) Barty got proven right when Sirius, James, Peter, and Remus showed up.
“Hey guys!” You called cheerily, and Regulus was almost ashamed to admit that your sweet smile and kind voice cancelled out any chagrin that the appearance of his brother caused him.
“Hello gorgeous! Baby bro.” Sirius called with a wink, causing Regulus to roll his eyes.
“Can I help you four!?” Barty nearly screeched as he showed up seemingly out of nowhere, all but standing directly in front of you like he was trying to shield you from the sight a particularly horrifying broom crash.
“Barty...” You chided jovially, gently nudging him aside. “They’re just saying hello.”
Sirius looked rather chuffed that you had defended them. Regulus didn’t like that one bit.
“Okay, well hello. You can leave now.” Barty shouted.
“Oh, lighten up, Junior.” Remus called with a smirk. “We’re all friends here.” 
Barty scoffed. “I’d rather shit in my hands and clap than be friends with Gryffindor’s.”
“Ew.” Everyone else said in response.
“Come on, my sweet, beautiful, angelic, lovely, smart, wonderful girl. I don’t want you or our beautiful day to be tainted by such scoundrels.” He cooed at you like you were some toddler on the verge of tears from having dropped your ice cream on the ground.
You groaned a little bit but acquiesced, allowing Barty to turn your body in the opposite direction.
“Sorry guys. I’ll see you tomorrow for our study date!” You called over your shoulder, to which Barty quickly counteracted with a “no you won’t!”
“You know, love,” Regulus murmured into your ear, “you’d probably save him a little bit of grief if you at least didn’t call it a date.” 
“Perhaps. But look at him now.” You whispered back conspiratorially. “He’s holding my hand and talking a mile a minute about how much of his dad’s money he wants to spend on us at Tomes & Scroll’s.”
Regulus couldn’t help but smirk at that. 
A Ravenclaw may have been smart enough to come up with a plan like this, but only the influence of your two Slytherin boyfriends would have made you cunning enough to pull it off. 
AN: I don't know how I feel about this one bit
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clownd1ck · 2 months
Text
trouble, j. miller | chapter one
mob!joel miller x fem!reader
chapter summary: after getting fired from your job at the bookstore, your grandparents introduce you to the man who’s been helping them out for awhile: joel miller. now, it’s his turn to help you.
chapter warnings: reader swears and has dry humour (she’s a bit of me x), mentions of vip’s getting touchy but it’s hypothetical if that makes sense?? reader calls her grandparents ‘pops’ and ‘nonna’, no beta cause i cba, blah blah blah that’s it
also no hate to anyone who reads romance/physical smut books, the hate is simply towards minors who read them & their parents for allowing them LOL
word count: 2518
(series masterlist)
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you really don’t know how much longer you can do this.
you’re six hours into your ten hour shift. you’re bored, you haven’t had your lunch break, and your phone is charging behind the desk where you were watching criminal minds before two teenage girls walked into the bookstore.
you’ve watched them for the past twenty minutes. they practically ran to the romance section, picking up books and flicking to certain pages you know had the most pornographic scenes in them before they’d giggle amongst themselves and add it to the pile they were building.
can teenage girls even afford this many books? you had been working since you were sixteen, and you’d barely get enough money to buy yourself two books whilst the rest would be stored away for college. and is this what people were reading nowadays? a male character that exudes toxic masculine standards whilst the author plays into the whole “innocent, virginal” female character who hadn’t the slightest clue about sex or life? is this what parents were allowing their children to-
“we want these books.” a demanding voice speaks to you, and you almost have to do a double take when you see the two teenage girls stood before you at the counter. god, you couldn’t even rely on the younger generation to be polite these days, especially not when one of them is judging you for your oversized hoodie and sweats and the crocs that sit on your feet.
“of course.” you force a smile, biting back on the insults you wish to hurl upon them. but, your boss is in the back. probably doing jackshit like she usually does, leaving you to work your ass off without any breaks.
the scanner scans the barcode on the back of every book before placing them in two bags. dante’s nine circles of hell sounds more appealing than this. you might just grab one of the books and hit yourself with it, hoping you hit so hard you might pass out and get to leave early. not like your boss would allow it, but the thought of having a hot shower and slipping into bed sounded nice.
“and your total is $194.68, is that going to be cash or card?” you rest your hands on the counter, looking at the two girls. one of them whips out a card, so black and matte you almost feel the courage to ask her if: it’s her fathers, and if so, is he single?
you hand her the card machine where she taps the card, and once the payment is deemed successful, one of the girls takes the bag, looks into it and frowns. “these aren’t in the right order.”
“excuse me?”
“the books aren’t in the right order.”
there’s a right order to put books in. none of them were even a series, and even then, does it really matter if your fucking fairy porn trilogy is separated?
“did you ask for them in a certain order?”
the girl gives you a look. “no?”
“so then why would i know what order to put them in?” you’re so done. you’re so fucking done, mentally, physically, and in the eyes of your boss, as well. the girls look at you, mouths agape, probably because they didn’t think they’d be spoken to this way, but you always said that the second a customer is rude to you, you’re being rude back.
the duo scowl at you as they leave the store, muttering insults under their breaths like it was a middle school friendship break up. you sigh, going to turn around to grab your phone when you jump back, spotting your boss leant against the wall.
“you’re fired.” she states.
“yes!” you fist pump the air sarcastically, grabbing your stuff and practically racing out the store. you didn’t even care if you were supposed to wait until the end of your shift to fully leave your job. you were hungry, tired, and your pops and nonna had told you that pops’ infamous burgers would be made for dinner and you were eager.
on your walk home, you listen to your music. it was relatively dark outside, and ideally, as a woman, you shouldn’t be wearing headphones in the dark. but you had always been more frightened by the noises you could hear rather than the ones you couldn’t.
you step into your home, taking your shoes off by the door and walk into the kitchen. you stop at the sight. your pops and nonna were stood in the kitchen talking to a man you have never seen before and you’re almost offended that your grandparents hadn’t allowed you to meet him because jesus christ and all things holy, that man is beautiful.
he’s tall. scarily tall, actually. and not to say you have a thing for muscular men but you would not mind letting this stranger throw you about. he leans on the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest as he eyes you up.
“he. who is he?” you point to the man, looking at your grandparents.
your nonna tuts your name. “he is joel miller, helps us out where we need it. why are you home so early, sugar, i thought you had a ten hour shift today?” nonna embraces you, kissing your cheek as she taps your arm, signaling for you to sit down at the kitchen table.
a faux laugh escapes you. “heh, well, you see-”
“don’t tell me that damn boss of yours ‘s been givin’ you a hard time again.” your pops speaks up this time, interrupting you this time. your pops was a scary man. he used to be involved in a lot of shit back in the day, constantly being chased down streets and alleyways by the police, always having them on his doorstep which would cause his mother to scold him. you can’t count the amount of times he’s threatened to come down and give your boss an earful on both hands.
“she actually fired me. apparently addressing one’s stupidity isn’t allowed. however, i am more focused on joel. joel, what is your purpose in this here house?” your head turns to look at the man as he addresses you, and he gives you a small smirk, walking over to the table and sitting across from you.
“she got a mouth on her, don’t she?” he asks your grandparents, and your nonna chuckles.
“always has. only started living with us when she was eighteen because of college, but she’s always had something to say.”
“something that’s gotta be shared with everyone.” your pops adds, and you give him a playful pout.
“right here guys, right here.” you announce. “back to the topic at hand. joel, why have you interrupted my pops’ burger night?” you’re facing each other now, your eyes analysing his face but all he does is smirk and since when was smirking so attractive on a man?
“well, your grandparents here mentioned how you hated your job, and i just so happen to have one that needs filled at one of my clubs.” his texan accent was prominent and full as he spoke, his brown eyes never leaving yours. “‘s if you want it, of course.”
“what club?”
“apocalypse.”
you slam your hands on the table with a wide grin. “i’m sold. when do i start?”
joel chuckles. “no questions about the pay, the shifts?”
you shake your head. “nope, don’t care. you know how hard that club is to get into?” you turn your head to look at your grandparents. “extremely fucking hard, i’ll tell you that right now. and i’ll get to work in there? god, life is so generous to me sometimes.” you exhale lightly, jokingly.
joel doesn’t stay for your pops’ burgers, but he’s given some to take home anyway. you decide to walk him to the door, being the ever so kind woman that you were, ready to see him off when he stops.
“ya’ start at five p.m. tomorrow, alright? i’ll have someone show you around, get you your uniform ‘nd all that before the club opens.”
nodding your head at joel, you bid him goodbye and watch as he makes his way to a sleek, black porsche, get in, and drive off.
____
“what do you mean you’re working for joel miller?” alicia asks you. alicia was the first friend you made at college after you chewed her ear off for the entirety of your first class. a girl who followed gothic fashion and was an absolute sweetheart compared to the people you’ve known in the past.
“i mean exactly what i said, babe. he’s apparently been looking after my grandparents for awhile and he offered me a job at apocalypse after that old bitch fired me.” you shrug, taking a bite of burger you got from dining hall.
“but joel miller is…he’s dangerous! everyone says his clubs are just money laundering schemes to hide his actual money.” naomi spoke up this time. ever the worrier, she was.
“money laundering would mean that no one was using his clubs and they were just there, naomi. the clubs are exclusive. i mean, we’ve all seen the lines to get in. we’ve been in those lines!” alicia somewhat comes to your defense even though you know she’s fully against you working there.
“my friend tina, the one from the political science class, worked there last year, and she says the pay is amazing!” a woman with black curls approaches your trio, another close friend of yours: georgia. “don’t get me wrong, she said some shady stuff happens in the v.i.p. lounge, but probably just guys gambling or something.”
you embrace georgia. “see, good pay and all i have to do is not ask questions. i’ll be fine, guys. and you,” you look at georgia “need to meet me at our cafe so you can tell me about that little masc lesbian of yours.”
you finish the rest of your burger, and pick up your bag. “gotta get home, but i’ll fill you all when i see you.”
you wave goodbye to your friends, walking out of the building as you scroll on your phone. when you get to the street, you bump into someone, about to apologise until you look up and gasp dramatically. “you! are you stalking me. god, joel, i didn’t know i was worth being stalked. that’s so flattering.”
joel scoffs, and opens the passenger door to his black porsche. “get in. ‘m gonna drive you down to the club.”
“don’t have to tell me twice.” you get into the passenger seat, placing your bag down in between your legs and joel closed your door. he rounds the front, getting in beside you and starts the car.
“ya’ hungry?” he asks, driving away from your college building.
“i ate just before i left. had a cheeseburger. not the most edible thing i’ve ever had, but it worked.”
“if you’re hungry when we get there, i’ll take ya’ down to the kitchen and grab you somethin’ there. house mom might have some snacks for ya’ too.”
brows furrowed, you turn to look at him. “the fuck is a house mom?”
“older woman who works with the dancers, takes care of ‘em in between dances. she’ll have snacks, spare outfits or shoes, hygiene products. helps ‘em all like a mom would.”
“nice.” you nod your head, and soon you’re in the private parking lot for the club. joel gets out first, rounding to your side and opening the door up for you. “gotta love a southern gentleman.” you snicker, walking into the club behind him.
he walks up a set of marbled stairs, heading to the second floor. “you’ll be working in the v.i.p. lounge, ‘s where all the dancers are and most of our staff.”
the second floor of the club is lit with red led lights, creating a sultry atmosphere. there are private rooms scattered all around, but there are booths scattered in the middle. joel walks you down to a hidden room and opens the door.
“this is my office. you can put your shit in here.” you walk in and place your bag down on the cushioned sofa, taking a seat beside your belongings. “i’m here when i’m not in the booths doing business, but if anything happens out there, ya’ come and find me, alright?”
you nod your head at him.
“all v.i.p’s know dancers and staff aren’t to be touched, but you gotta promise you’ll come find me if that rule is broken.” after promising, he continues. “i’ll take you down to adele and see if she’s got any spare uniform for you. she’ll walk you through anything else.”
joel guides you down the haul with a hand on your lower back, and if there was a camera following you, you would’ve hand an office moment with this simple touch.
“momma!” joel yells, knocking on a pink door.
the door opens, and an african-american woman opens it. she looks at joel, then you, and embraces you in a tight hug. “welcome, baby. this the new girl we’ve been hearing about?”
“yes ma’am!” you answer before joel can, shooting him a shit-eating grin.
joel speaks your name, and your eyes meet his. “go inside while i talk to adele, she’ll be back to help you in a minute.”
as you step inside the room, you’re met with an abundance of dancers. some are singing, doing their hair and make up, zipping up their heels, and others are lay on sat around eating some snacks.
“hi guys!” you wave at everyone, and they all squeal when they see you, immediately asking questions.
you answer them as best as you can until adele comes in. “now, i gotta get her some heels and her uniform, and when i come back-” adele glances around the room, pointing at an east asian woman with pin straight black hair. “lucy, do her make up, just so she knows what the standard is. your hair is fine, baby, don’t need anyone touching that.”
lucy smiles and waves at you, and you return it as adele leads you into the changing rooms. “uniforms are simple. black shorts, black long sleeve, and…what size shoe are you, baby?”
you respond, and she goes over to a rack of black, leather heeled boots. they’re platformed, shiny, and you know your feet are going to hurt the second your shift is done. “and these. i’ll let you get changed and you just come straight out when you’re done. help yourself to some snacks as well.”
“i don’t have to pay you for them?”
adele chuckles. “no, baby. joel gives me the money to buy the snacks. anything for you girls, joel pays for.” and with that, she leaves the room.
you sigh, looking at the mirror in front of you. this was a new job, with a hot boss, and from what you could tell, the rest of the girls in there were lovely.
this was your life now.
____
a/n: first chapter mother fuckers let’s GOOOOO
taglist (if you want to be added, pls let me know!! & if your name is in bold, i couldn’t find your account :()
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medium-rare-bimbo · 9 months
Text
Thinking about thoughts
♡Masterlist♡
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MINORS DNI
May contain Dubcon, age gap, dark characters, somnophilia, stepcest
༺*:゚・✧・:*:゚・♡ readmore ♡・゚:*:・✧・゚:*༻
♡ sucking steve and Billy's cocks when they've just finished their basketball practice they suffocate you in their balls
"God you're fucking disgusting bet you're getting off on this arent you?"
"Billy be nice shes too dumb to care about a little bit of sweat"
♡ eddie would bite your boobs </3 would probably make your nipples bleed then flick them through your shirt
♡ I love the whole "stuck in the washing machine" porn plot <3 maybe you hosted a small get together at your house (Nancy, robin, eddie, steve, Jonathan, billy, argyle) and you quickly decide that you need to grab something from your room. Its stored at the back of your bed so you have no other choice but to crawl underneath to get it, unfortunately your bed frame decides to fall just as you were pulling out leaving you stuck with your back arched. Thankfully your friends hear your yells and come to help you but not before they have some fun with you first, you're covered in cum and spit by the end. Your cunt all puffy swollen and sore but your night doesnt end there because they soon find out that they cant Lift the bed :((( meaning they have to call for help, big strong hopper shows up and stretches you out even more but eventually pulls you out from beneath the crushed bed.
♡ billy would 110% fuck you then take pictures of you just to show to his teammates (who tried to flirt with you) that you were his
♡ •whoever• helping there favourite cheerleader stretch, pressing your legs to you chest as they repeatedly hit that special spot that makes you feel all gooey inside
♡ rockstar! eddie fucking you on stage 👁👁
♡ billy/eddie making you cry just so they can wipe your tears and jerk off with them. They're being so mean to you, tears are streaming down your cheeks and dripping onto their cock
♡ mrs wheeler had a bad date night and comes home wine drunk, you're having a sleepover with nancy (whose already asleep) you stumble into the kitchen for a glass of water when you hear her enter. You're not sure how you ended up with her red lipstick smudged between your thighs or your swollen, juice soaked lips but you're not complaining especially when she invites you over the next day
♡ robin really likes your boobs. Almost in a obsessive kinda way. Theyre always so sore and bruised from how much she sucks on them, there are small crescent moon shaped cuts from where she squeezes them aswell as finger shaped marks. Shes always so sorry when you whine in pain as struggle to put your bra on choosing to just pull your shirt on without the wired piece of fabric, her apologies are insincere as she cant help but gawk at your chest and your hardened nipples. It's a win her book
♡ steve x bimbo! reader who loves skating !! He always sees you in your mini skirts and roller skates but can never seem to get the opportunity to talk to you that is until you come into family video looking for some elvis movie for your grandma, despite his charm and flattery you're too dumb to understand his flirting and brush him off he assumed  you were playing hard to get and Almost like clock work youd come in every week to return and rent a new movie then indirectly reject him. Steve had gotten tired of the schedule you had both fallen into when he decided to ask you directly
"Are you not interested in me or something? Am I getting the wrong signals? Because everytime i try to flirt with you, you just ignore it.  Arr you ju- just not into men? Or-"
"Oh my god! I didnt know you were flirting with me silly! like I dont think you ever said something in a flirty way. And by the way as much as I love women I also totally love men maybe not as much but that's not important. You know if I had known you were flirting I would've soo gone out with you I mean-"
He coudlnt believe his ears, you didnt know he was flirting with you? He used the most obvious pick up lines
"W-wait what do you mean you didnt know I was flirting with you?"
"Well it's not like you asked me to bend over so how was I supposed to know?"
"...I dont think that's flirting"
You felt so bad for him :((( you couldnt believe how dumb you were for not realising sooner </3 luckily for Steve his break was soon which gave you a chance to make up for it, although the storage room was not the ideal place for you to be on your knees you couldnt find a thought to care.
♡ eddie would bite your pussy. Nobody else will say it but he would be devouring your cunt then bite you
♡ breeding kink! With dark! Steve!!! Hed fuck you anytime he gets the chance, bent over the sink? Boom cock in you, in the shower? Boom filled, when you sleep? BOOM BOOM BOOM COCK
♡ sucking on man titties 👁👁
♡ hehe flayed billy making you eat ice before you suck him off because he likes the cold
♡ hopper cucking Phil!! Fucks his pretty lil wife right in front of him, hes tied up with a cock ring !!!! Hopper threatens to knock you up and claim you !!!
♡ argyle jerking off infront of you <3<3 you're getting high in the back of his van and he cant help but get turned on by the look of you, you've always been close and in the drug induced haze you cant help but let him stroke himself especially when he asks so nicely
♡ nancy has so many toys its insane, shes also very adamant about using them on you
♡ eddie in panties!!!! Eddie in panties!! MY PRETTY BOY!!! dont think this means hes going to be submissive for you if anything he gets meaner maybe he makes you wear them after he gets all his cum smeared on the inside
♡ stepdad hopper fingering you under the table at dinner !!! His thick fingers sliding against your gummy walls, he sucks off your juices playing it off as him enjoying his food
♡ billy pulls your pussy apart just to spit on it before eating, sometimes smacks your clit too just so see it swell up, likes forcing his fingers into you so he can feel how you try to push him out. Hes probably tattooed his name on to your mound
♡ eddie pretends to pray before spitting on your clit, he uses his pointer finger to move his salvia around maybe nibbles at it too. He just likes watching your hips jerk towards him, gets him worked up to know that only he can please you
♡ steve kisses your clit but not just a simple peck this man makes out with your clit !!! He sucks and swirls his tongue around it practically forces his faces as close as he can get. He loves tasting you, he loves knowing that you juices linger on him
♡ argyle loves stretching your pussy apart to watch your hole clench around nothing. He thinks your cunt is the prettiest thing hes ever seen and could spend forever looking at it. He eats you out slowly trying to prolong leaving his space between you thighs, his lips are swollen by the end and his face is covered in your juices
♡ Jonathan kisses your clit before going down on you, his mouth is all over you and hes constantly lapping up the juices that spill out of you. His fingers are buried inside of you and are moving from your hole to his mouth
♡ hopper is mean and spits on you aswell as spanks your poor cunt. He fingers you so expertly that you feel like you're in heaven, his mouth never leaves your clit and you're all sensitive the next morning from his moustache. He prolongs your orgasms until your screaming and crying for release
♡ nancy is also mean </3 she gets you on the floor and presses her foot into you covered pussy, she makes it seem like such a hassle to eat you out but her actions contradict as shes always pulling down you panties to press you against her mouth
♡ 001 is the worst of the worst that man loves watching you wither in whatever pain mixed pleasure he gives you, hes so mean and always bites and pinches your clit. You rarely get to cum when he goes down on you, only granting you permission when you're wrapped around his cock
♡ robin is in awe everytime she gets to taste you, shes constantly looking up at you as you whine and moan. Shes spent hours training herself to know your weak spots, she makes you cum so many times that you can barely keep your eyes open. She loves looking at your fucked out face and wet thighs
♡ chrissy is so sweet!! When the rest of the cheerleaders have left the locker room and have gone home you're both left alone. You're feeling bad about not perfecting a move and she has to make sure you're feeling good. She takes her time with you making sure you feel loved, she has you sat on a bench with her kneeling on the ground. Shes suffocating herself between your thighs and she wouldnt have it any other way
♡ innocent(?) Reader wants to know if cocks can get hickeys, luckily her boyfriend/bestfriend is willing to help in her experiment
♡ mean girl! Bimbo! Reader calls dark! Eddie's friendgroup "a bunch of virgin incels" he corners her and forces her into the hellfire room. He then shows her how much of a "virgin incel" he is
♡ prince! Steve,  banished! Eddie, rival! Prince! Billy, royal painter! Jonathan (no cameras so hes a painter now) royal cook! Argyle, king! hopper, princess! Nancy, royal advisor! Robin x maid! Reader (maybe not all at once but the thoughts are there)
♡ mechanic! Scumbag! Eddie who always says theres something wrong with bimbo! Readers car just so he can see her, he always gets under the car when youre wearing your infamous mini skirts. Hes so nice to you and you get him lunch when hes been working so hard <3<3 his only desired payment is your tight warm hole <3<3<3<3<3<3
♡ 001 getting obsessed with Billy's girlfriend after he possesses him <3<3 hunts you down after billy is killed, traps you in the creel house to be his housewife
♡ hopper breed me challenge, want to be his dumb personal fleshlight whose only good for being his house wife
♡ argyle hate fucking dominos worker! Reader
♡ perv! eddie has a set of dice that has been blessed by your pussy, thinking innocent! reader wanted to know how to play dnd and goes to eddie only for him to get carried away and just stuffing you with dice. Probably got bored and somehow convinced you to get on his lap, he held your down as he rubbed your clit as he forced the 20 sided die inside of you. He keeps a die on him at all times tucked away in his jeans, it's his good luck charm the rest get stored next to his bedside table where he kisses them goodbye before hellfire
♡ mrs wheeler boobs in my mouth please !!!!!! Got a vibrator pressed against eachother, she calls me her little baby and I just AEAKSBWON
♡ being Jonathan's girlfriend and coming to meet his parents only to be face first in Joyce's pussy with hoppers fat cock in your womb <3<3<3
♡ innocent(?)! Stalker! Reader takes pictures of herself naked, posed on her teddy pair, in her cotton panties, in the shower, fingers deep in her cunt just so she can give them to her favourite people. Thankfully shes always wore long skirts and baggy cardigans so nobody can trace back whose body it is
♡ I'm still not a furry but I 170% believe that eddie needs a bunny girlfriend (aka me)
♡ vampire eddie chasing down nymph! Fairy! reader to have his way with her
♡ bear! Hopper fucking bunny! Reader over fallen tree maybe it's just regular hopper and his fairy/nymph! Fuck toy
♡ AAAAA dark! Eddie coming home after a bad day finding you sleeping on the couch, he needs relief and you're the perfect thing. He climbs on top of you fucking you awake with his pierced cock.
♡ billy cums on your pussy before the day starts just so your cunt gets nice and moisturized with his seed
♡ eddie walks around the trailer with his hand down his pants he says it's to keep them warm but hes really just touching himself
♡ picnic in the woods where I just get fucked dumb and fed fruit <3 taken back to a cabin where I'm all warm and naked near the fire <3<3<3<3<3<3
♡ 👁👁 Murray keeping nymph! Reader as a pet as much as he likes his strange horny creature he cant keep up with your stamina so calls for backup from his good ol friend hopper
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bleedingoptimism · 10 months
Text
𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚
part 2
Steve is looking around the room when he sees Jay waving at him, so he smiles and waves back. He likes Jay. He’s nice and super fun to beat at cards.
And then he notices there’s someone sitting beside Jay and his hand falters before he puts it down.
The guy looks… tough, all lean and strong and sexy in his leather jacket and ripped jeans. Tattoos, rings, and pierced ears with long curly hair. But his eyes, his big eyes are beautiful and dark and his lips are round and look really soft. He’s all sharp but round around the edges. A walking contradiction. And Steve’s never seen anyone like him before. 
Without taking his eyes off him, he moves over to where Chrissy is sitting with Robin and sits with them, takes Chrissy’s hand, and holds it lovingly like he always does. 
“Hey, babe,” He whispers to her, “Who’s that guy sitting with Jay?”
“That’s Strider,” Robin says leaning over Chrissy to talk to him, “He’s an old friend of Jay’s, new in town. Why? You like him?”
“Strider…That’s a character from the book Dustin likes, right?” He wonders, “The Hobbit?”
“The Lord of the Rings” Chrissy corrects him.
“Right… nerd” He quips.
“So? Do you? Like him.” Chrissy asks squeezing his hand in retaliation.
“He’s gorgeous,” Steve confirms and Chrissy smiles excitedly. It’s not every day Steve notices someone in the bar. It has never happened before actually.
“You really think so?” Robin murmurs to him, “He looks like he’d like telling you what to do,” 
Steve hums appreciatively, “Yes, but like, in a nice way, right? Like he’ll say please and thank you,” he says dreamily.
Robin snorts, “Is that what you are into, you nasty boy?” Steve gasps so hard he almost chokes on his own spit and Robin starts cackling, while Chrissy giggles cutely.
“Fuck off,” He snaps, “And you, don’t laugh you dummy! You are supposed to be the stoic leader here!” 
Chrissy sobers up immediately, “Right, right” and then the three of them, look at each other amused trying to hold their laughs in. 
Fuck, if anyone heard how silly they were their reputation would be completely ruined.
The phrase ‘fake it til you make it’ never made more sense than it does for them right now. 
When the three of them, fresh out of high school moved into the city when Chrissy started showing symptoms… they had absolutely nothing to their name, and now, they owned a fucking bar. They had a roof over their head, food on their tables, and more importantly, they were offering shelter to a lot of people that used to be where they were a couple of years ago.
The lack of information around them made them look mysterious. And Robin had a way with business and marketing. So a couple of well-placed rumors did all the work for them. Just a few lessons on how to make a real bitchy face from Steve and suddenly Chrissy was the scariest girl in the night. 
It had been a rough start, and more than once Steve thought they wouldn't make it till the end of the month. But they’d gotten lucky when they found this place and they had been smart about it and now they had responsibilities and a establishment to uphold but that didn’t mean they couldn't have any fun.
“Go talk to him!” Chrissy tells him elbowing him subtly.
Steve shakes his head, “No, no way,”
“Dude, he’s been looking at you since the minute he came in!” Robin insists.
But that doesn't mean as much as she thinks it does. That doesn’t make it safe for him. Still, he kind of wants to talk to him, to hear his voice, to know what he’s like and what he likes and what not. And just when Steve is actually considering it Mayra, one of their hostess, walks up to Strider. 
Robin frowns, “Oh, fuck off Mayra” she mutters and Steve has to stifle a loud snort.
“Oh well, lost my chance I guess,” He says unbothered but actually feels really upset about it. He’s never felt jealous of any of the girl's conquests before. It’s strange, but there’s something about that guy.
He wanted him for himself. He needs him.
“Bet you a burger that if you go there right now, he’ll choose you over her” Chrissy says studying his expression like she can see right through him. 
“I’m not gonna cock block Mayra for a burger” He smiles at her shaking his head.
“Oh! No need! He rejected her!” Robin tells them excitedly.
And then they both stare at him,
“What are you waiting for?!”
“Well then, go on!” 
They talk at the same time.
“I- Ok! Fine. But if he rejects me you are buying me that burger,” He says standing up.
“If he rejects you I’ll buy you burgers for the whole week!” Chrissy whispers-yells at him as he’s making his way there.
He sees Jay walking up and leaving Strider alone at the little table and makes a note to thank him later as he sits beside Strider and puts his elbows on the table, using his hands to rest his chin over and looking at him.
“Hi” 
Strider blinks at him a couple of times and visibly swallows, “Hi,” 
Steve just leans his head to one side and smiles at him, and Strider just looks at him for a long second before smiling back crookedly, a dimple appearing on his left cheek that makes Steve want to bite him.
“I’m Ee-Strider,”
Steve’s smile becomes something a little more genuine and less flirty, he seems so nice, his strider, “Hi, Strider”
“And you are Sunshine, right?” Strider asks leaning a little closer over the table.
Steve bites his lip before answering. He was never particularly fond of that nickname, it’s too much to live up to. But he really likes the way it sounds coming from Strider.
“That’s what they call me, yes” he answers smirking confidently.
‘Fake it Till you Make It’
“So, Strider, What brings you here tonight?” 
Once more Strider just looks at him intently, looks at his lips, and then shakes his head, looking around feigning casualness, “Oh, you know, just checking out the scene”
He muffles a giggle over his own shoulder and then leans his head to look at Strider sideways, exposing the line of his neck, “And how are you finding it?” he asks softly.
“Oh, it’s really neck so f- nice really nice… So far” Strider stumbles over his words and then cringes to himself and blushes faintly.
And Steve gets suddenly really fucking impatient. He needs this cute dork upstairs, naked and under him right now.
“Has anyone explained to you how things work around here?” He asks him, trying to move the conversation along. 
Strider nods, “Je-Jay explained to me the gist of it, yeah” 
“Oh, yeah?” Steve nods too and puts his chin on his hands again, fawning his eyelashes at him and waiting for him to elaborate.
“Well, you choose right?” Strider continues and gestures vaguely around the room referring to the hostesses, “And then you take us upstairs…”
“Mmhm” Steve hums encouraging him to keep talking, “And then?”
“And then I get to taste you,” Strider breathes and fuck.
Taste him? Taste him. Yes. He wants that. He wants that so much.
“Taste me?” He asks because the concept still sounds too good to be true.
“Right?” Strider asks like he’s not sure the said the right thing.
‘Oh, he has no idea how right he was’
Steve leans over the table and stops just an inch away from Strider’s face, almost going eye crossed to look at him, “Would you like that, Strider?” he asks and then moves closer and to the side to whisper in his ear, 
“Do you want to taste me?”
“God. Fuck, yes. Please?” Strider says in a rushed whisper and Steve tries his best not to shiver.
He stands up and offers up a hand to him, “Follow me.” 
part 1: 🍷
part 2: you are here
part 3: 🩸
bonus content: ☀️
ao3: 🌙
art: 🦇
coffee?☕🥐💕
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