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#but the lines go: I'd thank you just the same
miley1442111 · 1 day
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safe- a.hotchner
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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)
you and aaron have jack (obvi) and a daughter, ellie. :) (1.4k + words)
summary: you become an unsubs target
pairing: husband/dad aaron hotchner x wife/mother reader
warnings: general cm minds topics, knives, stitches, head wounds, trauma talk of harm coming to the team, the reader is harmed, etc.
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—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
There you stood, your own blood as well as another's blood all over your body. 
What happened? 
You were just leaving work, you were going to pick up Jack and Ellie on your way home. It was taco night, you three would cook together tonight, though since Aaron was on a case a few states over, you would be the only ones doing it. So, how did that exact same unsub get to you?
You sat in the ambulance, stitches going into your skin, but you weren’t even flinching, you didn’t even feel it. You knew Jack and Ellie were expecting you, so was Jessica. 
“Can I make a phone call?” You whispered to the paramedic. She nodded her head, sympathy on her face. “Thank you.”
You pulled out your phone as she finished the stitches in your head, moving onto the ones in your arms. 
“Hey Jess,” You sighed into the phone. 
“Hey, is everything alright?” she asked. “Do you want me to take Jack and Ellie for the night?” 
You could honestly cry at her generosity. “Yes please, thank you so much Jess.”
“No problem,” she smiled, worried from the other line. “Are you hurt?” she whispered. 
“I’ll be ok, someone just… yeah,’ you sighed. “Tell Jack and Ellie I love them, yeah?”
“Always.”
You hung up. The paramedic finished up and the officer who had been sitting with you for the past few minutes escorted you to a squad car and brought you to the station, informing you that the FBI were on their way. The FBI, really? Surely it wasn’t Aaron, right?
God, you missed Aaron. You’d never wanted to see him more in your life. Just to know he was ok, that he was there. 
Such luxuries could not be afforded at that current moment. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Aaron sat beside David on the plane, exhaustion pulling at his eyes as Spencer read out the latest attack. 
“Oh, apparently there was one survivor,” Spencer said. “That might be his next target.”
“We should look into them, what’s the name?” David asked as Aaron yawned. 
“Y/n Y/l/n, she has a son, daughter, and husband,” Spencer said, and Aaron was wide-awake again. 
“Pardon?” He asked, hoping he’d heard wrong. 
“Y/n Y/l/n. She was beaten pretty badly and had a head wound and a stab to the arm, she’s at the station now. SHe agreed to a cognitive interview. She’s a professor of nuclear physics at a university nearby-” Spencer reads off. 
“She has more pHds than boy genius, 5 and counting,” Penelope interrupts him from the screen. 
“Well, she is older than me,” he stressed, attempting to keep some of his pride. 
“By what, 4 years?” Emily snorted, the rest of the team laughed, but Aaron was frozen. 
A head wound? You got stabbed? He felt faint. Immediately, he reached into his pocket to grab his phone, trying to call you. 
You didn’t pick up.
He tried again as the team stared at him in bewilderment. What was he doing?
No answer again.
“Sir-”
“I want a profile before we leave this plane,” he ordered and the team all stared at him. “Is that too much for you?” He asked snarkily. They all shook their heads and began breaking off into groups to work. Aaron stayed seated, a million thoughts running through his head at once. Was Jack ok? Was Ellie ok? How much blood did you lose? Was the unsub already on his way to you again? Were you a target because of him?
“Hotch I think we have something,” Morgan stated after 30 minutes. “The unsub is targeting women with the same description as the survivor. I'd say he’s a college student who is jealous of her husband. He’s formed a parasocial relationship and obsession with her and his delusions have led him to hurt those closest to her. It makes sense she’s beautiful, described as being extremely kind and caring about her students, she’s ridiculously intelligent, and apparently she and her husband are madly in love with each other. What’s her husband’s name Pen?” Derek asked, looking at the computer. 
“Aaron Hotchner,” she said, a gasp following her words. Aaron looked up, meeting the eyes of the team as they stared back, shocked. 
He could deal with them later. 
“Send police to Jessica's house,” he ordered before he got up to go to the back of the plane for a moment of peace. He took out his phone, dialling Jessica’s number.
“Hey, is Y/n ok?” She asked. “I have Jack and Ellie right now, are you with her?”
“Not yet, I’ve sent police to your house, just as extra protection, ok?”
“Alright Aaron. Take care of her when you see her, she seemed pretty shaken.”
“Course,” he gritted out and hung up. This was going to be difficult. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You sat in an office, a cop’s jacket strung over your shaking shoulders. You were still covered in blood, you still saw the horrible image of one of your students being killed in front of you.
Where was Aaron? 
 “Can I go and clean up?” You sniffled, asking the sheriff who was sitting at his desk beside you. 
“Course sweetheart,” she smiled softly. “There’s a bathroom down the hall, if you want a shower there’s one in the training centre.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling smaller than you ever had. You were told to be careful with your stitches and that you’d be brought into the hospital in the morning once all of the stuff with the station was over. You walked down the hall to the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, staring at your bloodstained face and clothes. The tears started falling, going down the drain with a red-tinge. 
You grabbed some tissue, wet it, and started scrubbing your face. The ache of your body was nothing to the turmoil in your head. Was it your fault one of your students was killed? Was Jack ok? Was Aaron ok? 
You didn’t even notice him coming behind you until he took the tissue out of your hand. He discarded it, damped the towel from his go-bag in his hand, lightly washing your face. Tears fell freely as he did so, but he wiped them away, a comforting hand on your lower back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your clean cheek. He continued his gentle cleaning, bringing it down to your neck.
“I’m sorry too.” 
He smiled softly. “You don’t have to apologise for anything.”
“Neither do you, but we do it anyway.”
His emotions became too much all of a sudden, the feeling of nearly losing you becoming unthinkable. 
“I love you so much,” he whispered.  
��I love you too.”
After Aaron sufficiently cleaned as much of the blood off of you as he could, he took your blood-stained shirt off and replaced it with one of his extra dress shirts. Walking outside the bathroom, you felt eyes on the both of you. You recognised some of the team from stories and photos Aaron had shown you. They stared as Aaron wrapped you into his side and walked you back into the sheriff’s office. 
“I want the kids,” you admitted. “I know we shouldn’t but I’m so worried that they're not ok,” you cried into his bicep as he sat beside you. 
“I’ll send one of the team to grab them and Jess,” he nodded.
“Please don’t leave,” you whimpered, holding onto him for dear life. You needed him. 
“Of course not, honey,” he soothed. He signalled for Derek to come in. He walked in, careful of your feelings. “Will you go to Jessica’s house and pick up Jessica, Jack, and Ellie?”
“Of course sir, but… who’s Ellie?” he whispered the last part. 
“My daughter,” Aaron said and Derek went wide-eyed.
“I’ll be right back with them,” he promised. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Darling, do you feel up to telling me about it? Or even just something?" he whispered against your skin.
"I know who did it," you whispered back. You felt such guilt. You knew the unsub, he was one of your students Andrew. Andrew was obsessed with you, with your life, but you just took it as a student being interested in your life to get out of work. You didn't pay enough care to the way his interest dampened when you spoke about Aaron and when you talked about your anniversaries or dates.
"Honey-"
"His name's Andrew. He's in my chemical sciences class."
Aaron was silent for a moment. "Alright. I'll send officers his way."
"I'm so stupid, I didn't even realise-" you started but Aaron shushed you with a gentle kiss.
"Don't talk about my wife like that," he joked. You chuckled softly and he felt a sense of great accomplishment.
"I'm so glad you're here," you sighed into his neck.
"I'm so glad I'm here too."
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
"You're married?" Derek asked.
"Yes," Aaron admitted as he ran a hand through your hair as you lay on his lap asleep, Ellie and Jack playing by the sheriff's desk.
`'And you have another child," Penelope said, shock apparent in her voice and facial expression.
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell us?" Spencer asked.
"I wanted to keep her safe," Aaron smiled. "I also just assumed you'd figure it out. Clearly you're not all as good as you think you are," he chuckled.
The team collectively rolled their eyes, but still smiled. Aaron was happy, you were safe, another unsub was awaiting jail, and they could almost feel the love radiating off of Aaron.
All was well.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :)
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matchakuracat · 2 days
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chronically ill/physically disabled people, how do you deal with doctors appointments? what do you say/do to advocate for yourself? im autistic and not diagnosed with a chronic illness yet and i really struggle to know what to say to get them to listen to me and understand so that i can get the help and care i need. even if i bring someone with me, they also need to know what to say and i don't know anyone who understands well enough to explain to the doctor for me, which means that i have to tell them what to say before going. but that's the problem since i just don't know.
i have chronic joint pain that ive had for years but has only gotten worse over time. i also have hypermobile knees which are the worse they've ever been right now. i'm chronically fatigued and barely have the energy to eat and do basic hygiene. i have a few friends that i talk to fairly regularly and im very thankful for them but i still struggle so much with maintaining a social life when i cant even maintain my own physical wellbeing. i only go outside when i absolutely have to/when my pain is low enough and i have enough energy. on average i probably leave my house about once or twice a week, usually to go to medical appointments, to an internship i have once a week or to go grocery shopping. i usually try to do both at the same time if i can (like going grocery shopping after my internship) but most of the time i have to ask my parents to get me groceries since i dont have enough energy to. all i want is to be able to go outside just to take short walks and enjoy nature and the fresh air but i can't do so without the right treatment/a mobility aid. everything im doing right now is bordering the line of too much. im constantly tired and overwhelmed and everything feels like a struggle, even the smallest tasks most people do everyday without thinking twice about it.
i have almost only had bad experiences with doctors and other medical professionals like physiotherapists, which has given me a lot of extra anxiety on top of my already pretty bad social anxiety. i really struggle to make appointments and even more so to go to them, and when i bring myself to do so i really struggle to express myself and explain how i feel and how i want them to help me. i almost always get shut down and offered no actual help with any of my problems. i just don't know what to do anymore.
if anyone has any advice i'd really appreciate it. i know that i can't give up because my life right now without accommodations is too miserable, but i also don't know how to move forward.
sorry if this was hard to understand. i really tried my best to explain but im having a bit of a hard time expressing myself right now due to feeling worse than usual.
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neurolady · 3 days
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I've been distracted all day since I saw @neil-gaiman's answer all but confirming that Crowley's "we've been talking for millions of years..." can be taken literally! I have always thought there has got to be more than just that one encounter between them in Heaven, but had always written that particular line off as just Crowley hyperbole... and tbh I'm not entirely convinced he isn't just trolling us because Neil!
But doesn't it add a whole new delicious layer to the Ineffable Love Story if there's the possibility that as angels in Heaven they were already together as Celestial lovers, whatever that would look like. To then have been torn apart by the Great War and Crowley's fall. Or even juicier to have their angelic relationship somehow be involved in Crowley's fall.
Eden then becomes an awkward reunion with the old feelings and instincts still there. Which is why Crowley automatically shuffles under Aziraphale's wing and already knows about the sword. Aziraphale not knowing how to address Crawley because he doesn't know his demon version, I'd always noticed his double-take when Crawley's black wings unfurl especially after s2 ep1.
It then reframes their whole relationship on Earth leading right upto the Final 15.
You can read Aziraphale as almost mourning the relationship that once was. "I know the angel you were", "you were an angel once", "you can come back to heaven and... (me) everything". He's obviously in turmoil because he loves who Crowley is now, loves their life on Earth but has never quite let go of what once was. It adds another dimension as to why he so quickly accepts The Metatron's offer after returning Crowley's angelic status is suggested. I mean imagine for 6000+ years he has he been struggling with falling for a demon but also reconciling that that demon is the same but not the angel he once loved in Heaven. Of course he doesn't want to change Crowley, but in his mind they can have everything now the love they've grown on Earth, their previous time in Heaven and no more taboo or danger from Hell, why would Crowley possibly not want that!
Crowley on the other hand traumatised by his Fall, has been searching for and finding his identity, but has definitively separated himself from his former Angel self. He has either forgotten or actively erased pretty much all of his time in Heaven, except Aziraphale. Rocks up to Eden to find his love there but now it's forbidden for them to be together. Spends the next 6000+ years falling even deeper in-love with who Aziraphale, himself and they together on Earth (us) have become. See's Gabrielle and Beezelbub, has his big moment of clarity (thanks to Nina and Maggie) and finally plucks up the courage to tell Aziraphale exactly how he still feels and that they can be together openly and properly! Then Aziraphale rocks up and wants to rewind the clock all the way back to Heaven! So of course he feels rejected like the last 6000+ years have just been Aziraphale waiting for his angel!
JUICY!
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~ Bruno is Orange - Hop Along
~ Gore warning
Jack Harkness and Angelo Colasanto
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leafy-m · 12 days
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I got Witch Hat Atelier Kitchen volume 3 a little early and guys.... GUYS!! THIS is what Kitchen in English should be like! 💥💝💖
If you like Orufrey, you have got to get volume 3!
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sysig · 10 months
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Looney Tunes-ass setup
#Of all the ways for my laptop to break... I did not expect Only my left ear in the headphone jack to go#USBs? Working fine. Disc Drive? Ain't no thing. SD Card reader? Gotcha.#Fucking uhhhhhhh Left-Ear Headphones?? From the same Headphone Jack????? Sorry???????#Why only the left?? Like if both broke I'd just be like Oh Okay the jack is broken I can understand that#Or if it was the headphones themselves I'd be like Oh Okay some of the wires got loose since they're in separate lines#But then it happened on my Good Headphones that I Just Bought that only have the One Cord for both ear pieces and I Became Suspicious#I have literally never had a jack break on me like this this is so wild#Luckily I had this spare USB volume control which is Not my favourite for several reasons lol#Initially when I bought it I was interested because I thought it was a) a splitter or b) in-line volume control#It is neither! It's basically a plug-and-play volume button#For...in case.....you don't.........have? a volume button? on your device? The horrors I would not buy a device like that in the first place#Everything is a tactile button for me thank you#And also you can plug in a mic but I have a separate USB mic that I like better so lol no on that one#So it was useless! Until....#It's still a bit scuffed it's slightly bass-boosted in a crunchy way which is Not my favourite :/ I like smooth bass-boosting thank you#That's the whole reason I bought these headphones!#It'll do in a pinch until I can ask around about it#I've been meaning to go to a repair shop for uhh year or so? Maybe more? One more push in that direction
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joycrispy · 8 months
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Awhile ago @ouidamforeman made this post:
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This shot through my brain like a chain of firecrackers, so, without derailing the original post, I have some THOUGHTS to add about why this concept is not only hilarious (because it is), but also...
It. It kind of fucks. Severely.
And in a delightfully Pratchett-y way, I'd dare to suggest.
I'll explain:
As inferred above, both Crowley AND Aziraphale have canonical Biblical counterparts. Not by name, no, but by function.
Crowley, of course, is the serpent of Eden.
(note on the serpent of Eden: In Genesis 3:1-15, at least, the serpent is not identified as anything other than a serpent, albeit one that can talk. Later, it will be variously interpreted as a traitorous agent of Hell, as a demon, as a guise of Satan himself, etc. In Good Omens --as a slinky ginger who walks funny)
Lesser known, at least so far as I can tell, is the flaming sword. It, too, appears in Genesis 3, in the very last line:
"So he drove out the man; and placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." --Genesis 3:24, KJV
Thanks to translation ambiguity, there is some debate concerning the nature of the flaming sword --is it a divine weapon given unto one of the Cherubim (if so, why only one)? Or is it an independent entity, which takes the form of a sword (as other angelic beings take the form of wheels and such)? For our purposes, I don't think the distinction matters. The guard at the gate of Eden, whether an angel wielding the sword or an angel who IS the sword, is Aziraphale.
(note on the flaming sword: in some traditions --Eastern Orthodox, for example-- it is held that upon Christ's death and resurrection, the flaming sword gave up it's post and vanished from Eden for good. By these sensibilities, the removal of the sword signifies the redemption and salvation of man.
...Put a pin in that. We're coming back to it.)
So, we have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword, introduced at the beginning and the end (ha) of the very same chapter of Genesis.
But here's the important bit, the bit that's not immediately obvious, the bit that nonetheless encapsulates one of the central themes, if not THE central theme, of Good Omens:
The Sword was never intended to guard Eden while Adam and Eve were still in it.
Do you understand?
The Sword's function was never to protect them. It doesn't even appear until after they've already fallen. No... it was to usher Adam and Eve from the garden, and then keep them out. It was a threat. It was a punishment.
The flaming sword was given to be used against them.
So. Again. We have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword: the inception and the consequence of original sin, personified. They are the one-two punch that launches mankind from paradise, after Hell lures it to destruction and Heaven condemns it for being destroyed. Which is to say that despite being, supposedly, hereditary enemies on two different sides of a celestial cold war, they are actually unified by one purpose, one pivotal role to play in the Divine Plan: completely fucking humanity over.
That's how it's supposed to go. It is written.
...But, in Good Omens, they're not just the Serpent and the Sword.
They're Crowley and Aziraphale.
(author begins to go insane from emotion under the cut)
In Good Omens, humanity is handed it's salvation (pin!) scarcely half an hour after losing it. Instead of looming over God's empty garden, the sword protects a very sad, very scared and very pregnant girl. And no, not because a blameless martyr suffered and died for the privilege, either.
It was just that she'd had such a bad day. And there were vicious animals out there. And Aziraphale worried she would be cold.
...I need to impress upon you how much this is NOT just a matter of being careless with company property. With this one act of kindness, Aziraphale is undermining the whole entire POINT of the expulsion from Eden. God Herself confronts him about it, and he lies. To God.
And the Serpent--
(Crowley, that is, who wonders what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway; who thinks that maybe he did a GOOD thing when he tempted Eve with the apple; who objects that God is over-reacting to a first offense; who knows what it is to fall but not what it is to be comforted after the fact...)
--just goes ahead and falls in love with him about it.
As for Crowley --I barely need to explain him, right? People have been making the 'didn't the serpent actually do us a solid?' argument for centuries. But if I'm going to quote one of them, it may as well be the one Neil Gaiman wrote ficlet about:
"If the account given in Genesis is really true, ought we not, after all, to thank this serpent? He was the first schoolmaster, the first advocate of learning, the first enemy of ignorance, the first to whisper in human ears the sacred word liberty, the creator of ambition, the author of modesty, of inquiry, of doubt, of investigation, of progress and of civilization." --Robert G. Ingersoll
The first to ask questions.
Even beyond flattering literary interpretation, we know that Crowley is, so often, discreetly running damage control on the machinations of Heaven and Hell. When he can get away with it. Occasionally, when he can't (1827).
And Aziraphale loves him for it, too. Loves him back.
And so this romance plays out over millennia, where they fall in love with each other but also the world, because of each other and because of the world. But it begins in Eden. Where, instead of acting as the first Earthly example of Divine/Diabolical collusion and callousness--
(other examples --the flood; the bet with Satan; the back channels; the exchange of Holy Water and Hellfire; and on and on...)
--they refuse. Without even necessarily knowing they're doing it, they just refuse. Refuse to trivialize human life, and refuse to hate each other.
To write a story about the Serpent and the Sword falling in love is to write a story about transgression.
Not just in the sense that they are a demon and an angel, and it's ~forbidden. That's part of it, yeah, but the greater part of it is that they are THIS demon and angel, in particular. From The Real Bible's Book of Genesis, in the chapter where man falls.
It's the sort of thing you write and laugh. And then you look at it. And you think. And then you frown, and you sit up a little straighter. And you think.
And then you keep writing.
And what emerges hits you like a goddamn truck.
(...A lot of Pratchett reads that way. I believe Gaiman when he says Pratchett would have been happy with the romance, by the way. I really really do).
It's a story about transgression, about love as transgression. They break the rules by loving each other, by loving creation, and by rejecting the hatred and hypocrisy that would have triangulated them as a unified blow against humanity, before humanity had even really got started. And yeah, hell, it's a queer romance too, just to really drive the point home (oh, that!!! THAT!!!)
...I could spend a long time wildly gesturing at this and never be satisfied. Instead of watching me do that (I'll spare you), please look at this gif:
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I love this shot so much.
Look at Eve and Crowley moving, at the same time in the same direction, towards their respective wielders of the flaming sword. Adam reaches out and takes her hand; Aziraphale reaches out and covers him with a wing.
You know what a shot like that establishes? Likeness. Commonality. Kinship.
"Our side" was never just Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley says as much at the end of season 1 ("--all of us against all of them."). From the beginning, "our side" was Crowley, Aziraphale, and every single human being. Lately that's around 8 billion, but once upon a time it was just two other people. Another couple. The primeval mother and father.
But Adam and Eve die, eventually. Humanity grows without them. It's Crowley and Aziraphale who remain, and who protect it. Who...oversee it's upbringing.
Godfathers. Sort of.
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thecassafrasstree · 10 months
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Had a few folks interested in how I made the patches I posted for Solarpunk Aesthetic Week, so I thought I'd give y'all my step-by-step process for making hand-embroidered patches!
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First, choose your fabric and draw on your design. You can use basically any fabric for this - for this project I'm using some felt I've had lying around in my stash for ages.
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Next, choose your embroidery floss. For my patches I split my embroidery floss into two threads with 3 strands each, as pictured. You can use as many strands in your thread as you prefer, but for the main body of my patches I prefer 3 strands.
Next you're going to start filling your design using a back stitch.
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First, put in a single stitch where you want your row to start.
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Poke your needle up through the fabric 1 stitch-length away from your first stitch.
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Poke your needle back down the same hole your last stitch went into so they line up end-to-end.
Repeat until you have a row of your desired length (usually the length of that colour section from one end to the other). Once you have your first row, you're going to do your next row slightly offset from your first row so that your stitches lay together in a brick pattern like this:
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Make sure your rows of stitches are tight together, or you'll get gaps where the fabric shows through.
Rinse and repeat with rows of back stitch to fill in your patch design.
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When you're almost to the end of your thread, poke your needle through to the back of the fabric and pull the thread under the back part of the stitching to tuck in the end. Don't worry if it looks messy - no one's gonna see the back anyway.
This next step is fully optional, but I think it makes the patch design really pop. Once your patch is filled in, you can use black embroidery floss to outline your design (or whatever colour you want to outline with - it's your patch, do what you want). I use the full thread (6 strands, not split) of embroidery floss to make a thicker outline.
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I use the same back stitch I used to fill the piece to make an outline that adds some separation and detail. You could use most any 'outlining' stitch for this, but I just use back stitch because it's just easier for me to do.
Once you're finished embroidering your patch, it's time to cut it out!
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Make sure to leave a little border around the edge to use for sewing your patch on your jacket/bag/blanket/whatever, and be careful not to accidentally cut through the stitches on the back of the patch.
If you have a sturdy enough fabric that isn't going to fray, you can just leave it like this. If not, I recommend using a whip stitch/satin stitch to seal in the exposed edges (I find that splitting your embroidery floss into 3-strand threads works best for this).
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And then you're done! At this point you can put on iron-on backing if you want, or just sew it on whatever you wanna put it on. Making patches this way does take a long time, but I feel that the results are worth it.
Thanks for reading this tutorial! I hope it was helpful. If anyone makes patches using this method, I'd love to see them! 😁
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stevieschrodinger · 7 months
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Part One
Baker Steve and Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU
Part two
"Steve! You have no idea!" Eddie's laughing, and that always makes Steve laugh, too. He's clearly a little tipsy. "Everyone went mad for the cake! It's was just, gone! Here, I'll send you some pictures!"
"I know what it looked like Eds," but Steve's grinning, knowing he's talking to empty air, can hear Eddie very vaguely mumbling to himself as he looks through his camera roll. Next to Steve' ear, his phone vibrates several times.
"Anyway, Stevie, I was thinking," Eddie's back now, still clearly tipsy but sounding uncharacteristically sheepish, "it's Christmas kind of soon right? Going to need a cake or two there. New year. Easter. Birthdays and bar mitzvahs and...and... independence day...so I was thinking I should get my orders in now, you know? Avoid disappointment."
"Eddie," Steve starts, finds himself turning shy himself, "you don't have to have a cake on order just to talk to me."
"I, ah, don't?"
"No, I mean, pretty sure we're friends, right?"
"Friends," Eddie starts slowly, "there's, like, lots of different kinds of friends."
"Sure, sure," Steve agrees easily, butterflies running rampant in his stomach, "there's even, kind of, more than friends, really."
"That sounds really really great-"
"Eddie!" There's a cacophony in the background, people shouting, "man, you're missing your own party-"
The line goes dead, and Steve's left standing in the dim light of the evening, just staring at tomorrow's cake order where it's cooling on the racks. A minute later, his phone buzzes in his hand, "so sorry baby, talk tomorrow."
Steve smiles at his phone. He had gone a little quiet after finding out who Eddie really is. It had kind of surprised him. But then Eddie had text him, "did I do something? 😞" and Steve realised Eddie's entitled to his privacy, the same as anyone.
"Hey Stevie, how's your day?"
Steve has Eddie on speaker phone as he mixes batter, "pretty good so far, you? You hungover?"
"No, no, didn't get that wasted, too old for that nonsense now, you know?"
Steve laughs, "aren't you like, 25?"
"I mean, maybe. Definitely old enough to, like, think about settling down, you know?"
Steve's breath catches in his throat, excitement and nerves after their interrupted conversation last night, "yeah, you, thinking about that? With, uhm, someone?"
"Yeah, I am, it's just..." Steve's heart sinks in his chest," my job, you know, I travel a lot, and that would be a sacrifice for anyone, and I couldn't ask someone to live with that, you know?"
"Well...what if it wasn't? What if they just...went with you?"
"What if...this person...had a job they loved? Their own business they worked hard for?"
"Yeah," Steve agrees slowly, "but what if...well, take me for example. I love to bake, but I don't love my business. That's just a means to an end, you know? I don't always love the orders, I'd choose to make something else if I was doing it for fun. So if it were me, i'd give it up in a heartbeat as long as I can keep baking."
"Yeah? You mean it?"
"Yeah. Yeah Eddie, I mean it."
"I, I mean, sure. Good. Thanks. I mean, not thanks, I mean, good, that's great."
Steve grins at Eddie's ramblings.
"I'll be away though, soon, for a couple of months, like four months, so, maybe, we could keep talking and when, I mean, if you want, what I get back..."
"I'd like that." Steve fist pumps, silently celebrating. "You never actually told me what you do for work?". Steve's teasing him, but Eddie doesn't know that Steve knows so, Steve grins to himself and keeps his voice even.
"I ah, music?"
"Yeah, you have mentioned that before, but what about it?" Steve knows he's being a dick, he just can't help it though.
"I ah, travel, with the band," Eddie starts slowly, and that is technically not a lie, Steve thinks, "and I kind of, look after some of the instruments and...have a lot to do with the sound checks? Like I'm definitely always there, for every sound check, like, I have to be."
All of that is probably true, Steve thinks, and god bless Eddie for not wanting to actually lie to Steve.
"Oh right, and what's the band called?"
"Oh, they're like, heavy metal, you've definitely never heard of them."
After they get off the call, Steve laughs all afternoon.
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neil-gaiman · 3 months
Note
Hello Mr. Gaiman,
I know you are not a copyright lawyer, but you are an author who has been producing and interacting with copyrighted works for longer than I've been alive, so I thought I'd just ask: Where is the line between making a pop culture reference in a work and infringing on copyright?
I sincerely struggle to believe that every mention of characters like Yoda, Wonder Woman, or the Doctor in books, movies, songs, etc. gets approved by Lucasfilm, DC Comics, or the BBC before going out in the world, but am I wrong? Does having a character in a novel or comic book dress up as, say, Coraline for Halloween require coordination with you (and possibly Laika as well)?
While it's a long shot, I thought I'd ask you, in case you see this and have an answer.
Thank you for your time,
Brian
I can give you the same answer that a copyright lawyer would. At least at the beginning. "It's complicated, and it all depends," is how it would begin.
After that it moves into specifics. In the last season of Good Omens, for example, I got permission from Iain Banks's widow to have The Crow Road front and centre and to see the first sentence on screen. On the other hand I didn't get specific permission to talk about Doctor Who (or invent the 1964 Doctor Who Annual). (On the other other hand I knew nobody was going to complain about that because the BBC were the production studio making Good Omens and if they had wanted to grumble they would have let me know early.) We got permission from the Buddy Holly estate/music publishers to use Buddy Holly's song Everyday, but we didn't seek or get permission to use the song in the plot.
Fair use exists, transformational use of copyrighted material exists, and parody exists, and all of these things mean that if you're watching a Halloween episode of something where the kids are dressed as Coraline, Freddy Krueger, the Scream killer, and Pinhead, permission might have been granted or it might not have been requested.
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comicaurora · 3 months
Note
I'm sorry that the terfs made their way onto your blog but it does feel good to see you support trans people. Thank you for that
Always.
I think, charitably, that the discourse going down on that post is an extrapolation and over-focus on one element of the point I was making: that for me, determining with certainty that I was cis was a rather fraught process. I was presented with many alternatives, but underlying their imposition on me was the oddly regressive idea that the things I liked, the principles I valued, the parts of myself I was proud of were not permitted of women. My whole life I got smacked with the background radiation that I couldn't like being strong because women aren't allowed to be stronger than men. I couldn't like being loud and boistrous because women aren't allowed to take up space. I couldn't be a math geek because women aren't smart. It was all deeply regressive misogyny from day one, but I started getting hit with it slathered in a fresh coat of paint - all those assumptions still held to be true, but now there was the out that I could do all those things if I just wasn't a woman.
Concluding that the underlying bioessentialist premise was wrong was very important. Absolutely none of those statements were true, and were only ever maintained by cultural saturation, goalpost-readjustment when they were actively disproven, and the occasional bout of lying with statistics to pretend they weren't just Shit All The Way Down. The core premise that certain things were only permitted of or possible for men was bullshit, and I didn't need to surrender the gender I liked best in order to play in the spaces I wanted to. I could simply exist the way I was already existing. I didn't need anything else.
The misinterpretation is the assumption that this being true of me means this is everybody's relationship with gender. I turned out to be cis, so for me, feeling that holding onto my assigned gender wasn't allowed was distressing - just another invocation of the same bioessentialist bullshit I'd been dealing with since the preschool playground. This is because misgendering is fundamentally denying that a person has the right to express themself the way they want. When aimed at me, it says I'm not performing traditional femininity well enough to deserve my pronouns. The same disrespect is the root of misgendering when aimed at trans people. "Perform your gender to my satisfaction or I will confiscate it."
The problem is, bioessentialism is 100% ingrained into the terf playbook, which is why, for instance, all their shitty talking points about trans athletes eventually boil down to "no woman can ever defeat a man in any contest because we are simply naturally weak and stupid and there is nothing we can do about it" and quite frankly nothing disgusts me more than the defeatist acceptance of the very lie that feminism is dedicated to overcoming. Instead of accepting that the paradigm of bioessentialism is a false dichotomy right from the jump, they embrace and weaponize it against the people whose existence proves the dichotomy is a lie. If gender essentialism is fundamentally false, then it is nobody's fucking business what anybody does with their gender. If the lines don't exist, nobody needs to enforce them. And yet there the terfs go, hunting down people whose lives are none of their business and trying to argue that they represent some great and terrible evil, some downfall of society made flesh, something that makes it totally correct and normal for them to spend so much time thinking about strangers' genitalia. They want this to be a noble crusade so badly they won't even examine what flag they're flying.
I love and support the trans people in my life and will always, always stand on the side of your right to exist, but alongside that, terf rhetoric especially disgusts and infuriates me because it is, at its heart, utter cowardice. The world told them they were weak and stupid and inferior and they fucking believed it. And now they think Fighting The Good Fight For Women means turning around and using the same paradigmatic weapon that hurt them to hurt the people whose existence outside the binary proves the weapon is a lie. They're the same shithead schoolyard bullies who made me believe my entire existence was foundationally wrong for years of my life and I will never, ever side with them or the shitty, cowardly rhetoric that contributed to the loneliest years of my life.
Figure out who you are and do it on purpose. Find the real source of the misery in your life and try fighting that instead of the other crabs in the bucket. Trans rights.
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rafescurtainbangz · 3 months
Text
Professor Cameron #2 - Rafe Cameron One Shot + 18
Minor DNI
Tumblr media
Part 1: Link
Rafe × female reader (No use of Y/N)
Warnings: smut, language, swearing, drinking and smoking
Fingering, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v, pet names, squirting, overstimulation, praise kink, ownership kink, older Rafe, possessive rafe, jealous rafe, obsessed rafe, choking, spanking, degradation, name-calling, pussy slapping, mating press, reader calls rafe daddy
Lightly edited
4.1K
Don't let the beginning fool it’s a lot of smut lmao 😂 thank you for all the love on part 1! 💕💕💕
Taglist @imyourdaninow @gri959 @redhead1180 @romaescapes
Enjoy! ❤️✨
Tanneyhill...
Later that night
"Holy shit," you whisper, eyes following Rafe's house all the way to the top. The grandeur of it all begs the question, does a professor really live here? I mean, I'm sure the university pays him well, but not this well. This is old money.
Tracking the brick walk, you make your way to the front door, smoothing out a very different ensemble than you wore this afternoon. You breathe a sigh of relief, thankful at this moment that you decided to dress up. Your pink satin mini-dress blows lightly with the cool night breeze, an open back cinched tight, showing off your curves.
Truthfully, I didn't think that would happen. Just teasing between friends until that fictional tale came true. I never thought he would actually cross the line.
Rafe was right... The boys at school weren't cutting it. They were selfish, inexperienced, and immature. That was only an hour? What could Rafe do with a whole night? On a bed instead of a desk? He said he had a 'real big house,' which is the understatement of the century. I can make as much noise as I'd like. He's going to take care of me... Me.
I've never felt pleasure like that in my life. The part that excited me the most was that I was holding back, not wanting to get caught. What would happen if I let myself go? The part that scares me, however, is the fact that I'm already in too deep.
What if Rafe's thought about it since? Not in the way I'm hoping he would, the way that would stop him from doing it again. A moment of clarity where Rafe realizes that he may have made a mistake. I'm his student... He's my professor.
What if he's doing this with other people? What if I'm not the only student in Professor Cameron's class getting "extra credit"? Am I just another one of his girls?
I can't think about that.
I'm feeling things. And, I can't stop.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
You can hear shuffling behind the door, watching as the knob turns. The door fans open; Rafe meets your gaze with a smile. "You... Wow. You look stunning," he hails, bearing the door as you pass through.
Fuck, he looks good. You feel yourself get a little frazzled as you take Rafe in. A slim black button-down and slacks, coupled with yet another pair of designer dress shoes. He smells delicious; that same cologne reapplied, already burned into your brain. "You alright?" He smiles, looking down at you.
"More than alright, Rafe. Just a little nervous."
"About what?" He puffs, cocking his head to the side as he shuts the door. "Told ya I didn't bite. Not unless you want me to," Rafe chuckles warmly, turning you under his finger as he checks out your little dress again. "Goddamn. You're flawless."
"Thank you," you whisper as your cheeks blush. Rafe keeps his hand in yours, guiding you deeper into his house, letting you take it all in.
"So, what are you so nervous about?" Rafe presses a little further, not wanting to let it go until he figures it out.
"I don't know... I didn't expect to be here. I'm just - I hope you aren't having second thoughts."
"Me?" He chuckles; twisting his face slightly as a crooked smile spreads on his lips. "Never. No second thoughts."
"Okay... And, am I the only one-"
"Who's gettin' extra credit?" He snickers, reading your mind entirely. "You are the only one."
"Ever?" You ask, your voice just above a hush, kicking yourself for asking it in the first place to a grown-ass man. Rafe turns you toward him, lacing his fingers in yours; his lips meet your forehead, kissing you softly.
"If you're askin' if I've ever had sex in an office, and I said 'no,' I'd be lyin'," he chuckles weakly. His palms come up, resting gently on your cheeks, guiding your watch to his. "But, if you're askin' me if I've ever done that with a student... never. I've never done that."
You give him a soft smile. "I'm so happy I'm here with you."
"Me too," he hums. "Now, let's go relax. Yeah?" You nod as Rafe leans in, meeting your lips; kissing you deeply. Heat spreads across your body; the contact sets you ablaze, your entire being craving more of him.
Rafe walks you to his study, the mahogany countertop, adorned with six elegant bouquets. "Do you like flowers, princess?" He smiles; his hand resting on the small of your back.
"Of course," you respond dreamily, bending in to smell each. "Six? Rafe, this-"
"I didn't know what your favorite was..." He interjects, "Pink roses?" Rafe guesses, based solely on your reaction.
"Yeah, pink roses," you giggle. "Thank you."
He steers you to his leather couch, taking a seat. Before you can sink down, his hands are on you, guiding you to straddle his lap. You rest your hands lightly on his muscular chest as Rafe eyes you in his arms. His rough hands graze your back, landing on your bum; kneading your curves slowly.
"M'so glad you're here," he soughs, his lust-laced eyes locked on your lips. His crystal blues lift slowly to yours, sending chills down your spine. "You're still nervous sweetheart? Aren't you?"
You shake your head 'no' as you lean in close, kissing him tenderly. His hands drift down your bare thighs, slipping under the hem of your dress. "I'm not... I swear," you whisper as you widen your thighs, pressing your pussy against his rock-hard bulge as you start to grind slowly. Your lips hover close, Rafe, matching your steady breathing. Tension builds as you wait for the other to break.
Rafe kisses you deeply, a passionate exchange, pushing your hips to ride him clothed. "Need to taste you again. Fuck, you tasted so sweet," he mumbles between kisses. Rafe wraps you in his arms, lifting you off the couch. "Just a little bit now. I need it. Don't let me go any farther. Alright? Not yet."
He rests you back down on the couch, pulling you where he wants you, your body desperate for his lips. Rafe drops himself down to his knees for you, taking control as he spreads your thighs, eyeing your glistening cunt with a hungry groan. "No panties?" He chuckles darkly, his dangerous gaze flickering to yours. Rafe brushes your folds, gathering your essence all over his fingers, before sucking them clean as your eyes roll back. "M'so fuckin' hard, princess. Can't wait for you to suck my cock; make me cum again. Get that pretty little mouth of yours around my dick," he sighs. His strong arms loop around your thighs, pulling you closer than before, slumping you on the couch.
Rafe's eyes stay locked on yours as his lips do the same to your clit, sucking and brushing his tongue from side to side. He moans against your pussy, as his fingers toy with your entrance, teasing your pearl with the chilled ridges of his gold ring. Your thighs tremble, tightening around him.
"C'mon, baby," he taunts, spreading you wider, sucking and finger-fucking you with a little more force. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, holding back your cries of pleasure.
"Hey... Woah. Woah... Wait a minute, baby girl," he chides. "Need to hear you. Alright?"
"Yes, daddy..."
"Well, shit..." Rafe rasps as he grabs your legs, slinging them over his shoulders. "I could get used to that."
Everything increases; your heart rate, the pressure, the depth of his tongue in your soaked hole. "You taste like heaven," he pants, bumping his nose against your clit, making your thighs quake. Rafe laps at your pussy, devouring you completely. He breathes deeply, taking in your scent; the vibration of his low moan felt against your heat.
Rafe takes your clit into his mouth, sucking harshly, making you cry out; heels digging into his black dress shirt as you buck your hips; voice echoing through the large house. "There ya go... Atta girl."
Your back arches, lips crying out for him. "Fuck, Rafe. M'right there," you blubber. You reach for your satin straps, tugging down the top of your dress, letting your breasts spill free. Your hands instantly draw up to your tits, squeezing and pressing them together for him. Rafe bites down on your swollen clit; making you throw your head back. A choked sob spills from your lips.
Your hands drop down, weaving into his hair, giving it a rough tug. You grind your pussy on his face, feeling yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. "Rafe, s-shit." Your eyes screw shut as you cum on his face, pleasure coursing through your system as your pussy clamps down around his thick fingers. Rafe works you through your orgasm, waiting until you're fully unwound to release you with a panting breath.
"Need it - Fuck. I need your cock in my mouth," you gasp; eyes still shut as you do your best to recover.
"Baby, c'mon..." He chuckles breathily as his lips find yours. You can taste yourself on his lips, making your mind fuzzy. "I wanna share a drink. Take you on a tour... You were supposed to hold me back. You can wait. Right?" You can hear the taunting in his tone, a devilish smirk playing on his kiss-bitten lips.
"Yes, daddy."
Rafe cups your breasts in his hands. Pinching and rolling your pebbled blush between his fingers. He sucks down, trailing wet kisses before biting your sensitive skin, causing you to moan again. "You're mine," he whispers, nuzzling himself into your chest. "I don't want anyone else to have you but me. Understand?"
"What - Wait..." You ask breathlessly. "I mean. Are you sure, Rafe? You barely know me. What if I didn't come into your office today-"
"You would have... eventually. I just got lucky. I always get what I want, princess. I don't wanna see you come into class with anyone else. Don't wanna overhear some douchebag talkin' about some absolutely stunning girl he took home from the bar. You're mine. My pussy," he breathes, making your breath hitch as he slaps your sensitive cunt, soothing it with his cupped palm. "My tits," he mumbles, licking a line through your cleavage as he palms them together. "My lips," he whispers as he kisses you again. "My fuckin' girl. Mine."
"M'yours, Rafe."
**********
"So, you're a professor? Just a professor?" You ask through a flirty grin as you swirl your champagne.
"Yeah... Got bored. Decided to go to college, then grad school; got my doctorate for fun," he rasps before taking a sip.
"So..." You look around, letting your silence speak for itself.
"I made some smart business decisions when I was young. Set myself up nicely."
"Mob boss?" You quip, making him cock his brow and laugh.
"If I told you, princess. I'd have to kill you." Rafe plays along, shooting you a mischievous look. "So, you're pretty far from home. You plannin' on going back for Spring Break, or are you gonna hang around here?"
You laugh nervously, wrinkling your brow, confused yet intrigued, charmed that he went out of his way to find out more about you. "How do you know where I'm from?"
He clears his throat, regretting his words slightly, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt on his thick forearms as he shifts anxiously. "Uh... Um," he puffs, draining some more liquor into his champagne flute. "Your student account," he mumbles sheepishly.
"Professor Cameron!" You gasp, flirtingly, as you lean in a little closer.
"S'bad. Alright. I know. I know! I couldn't help myself. I had to be proactive. Alright? High stakes. I gotta be real careful who I associate myself with."
"And you can associate yourself with me, Rafe?"
"Yeah. I have a good intuition, princess. Questionin' yours a little," he bullies. "That neighborhood you live in is shit, by the way. It's not safe, baby."
Your eyes double in surprise. The more he exposes, the more it should worry me, I know, but he's pulling me deeper. He's possessive, calculated, obsessed even. But, I fuckin' love it. How much more does he know about me?
I need to know.
"You look handsome," you laud; just a slight bite of your lip as you lean into the armrest, hair tumbling to the side. You cross your legs, letting your little dress ride up your thigh.
His eyebrows raise, running his palm against his wide smile, attempting to play it cool as he stares at the valley of your thigh. "Just tryin' to keep up with you, baby. You look stunning. Did you wear that-"
"On New Year's Eve..." You finish his sentence as a smirk pulls on your lips, Rafe taking the bait effortlessly. "Do you follow me on Instagram?"
"No... Just stalk you," he admits, not an ounce of shame in his voice. He can see that you clearly enjoy his attention. "Like I said... Gotta be careful who I keep around. Not to mention, I had to keep an eye on who else was watchin' you. I don't share." He smirks before tossing back the rest of his champagne. Oh...
"That's all you did, Rafe? Just look at my pictures; make sure I was safe?"
He gives you an open-mouth smile as a blush creeps across his cheeks. "You really wanna know?"
"I really wanna know..."
"That red swimsuit you wore in Cabo might be my favorite thing, princess."
You roll your eyes, expelling a dizzy laugh. "So... Again, Professor Cameron, is that all you did? Just look at my pictures; make sure I was safe?"You bully before taking a sip.
His gaze darkens on yours, the look in his eyes telling you more than enough. "Absolutely not."
Rafe adjusts himself in his chair, spreading his thighs a little wider as he pinches a fresh cigar between his lips. He reaches over to the coffee table, snagging the Perrier-Joute, drinking from the bottle. You can see that he's getting more comfortable as time passes by, as well. Laughing a little more, a few more buttons on his shirt undone, drinking straight from the source.
"So, Rafey," you ask in an unholy tone as you stroll from your chair to his, dropping down to your knees to slink the rest of the way. "Is there anything I can do for you? I really need that A." 
He quickly forgets his cigar, resting it in the ashtray without a second thought. Rafe extends the bottle to you, pouring it carefully, some still dribbling from your glossed lips down your chin. He leans down, pinching your cheeks in one hand, licking the mess to your lips. "I got a few things you can do for me, princess."
"Tell me," you whisper, fingering the buttons of his Dior button-down before pulling it open fully. Your fingers trace down his tanned chest, passing through the deep indentations of his abs to his black leather belt.
You can already see his long, thick cock; trapped in Italian wool, making your mouth water. "Since you're on your knees," Rafe smiles as he pinches the button of his pants, opening that, then the zipper. "Why don't you choke on daddy's cock. Hmm?" You can feel the wetness between your thighs, the soft sweetness of his voice contrasting his domineering words, making your head spin. You draw the material over his hips, releasing his aching dick.
You glide your fingers through your pussy; gathering your slick on your digits, taking hold of the base of Rafe's cock. He shakes his head and smiles as his teeth tug on his bottom lip. You work him slowly, watching as the little bead of precum grows larger.
Rafe's hand toils through your hair, brushing it away so he can get a better view of your face. "So pretty on your knees, baby-" Rafe's words get lost in a moan as your warm tongue traces along his prominent vein, catching his cum as it drips down the side.
You lick a few fat stripes up his shaft, kissing his ruddy tip wetly as his dick twitches in your palm. "Fuck, honey," he groans deeply, tossing his head back on the leather chair. "Might not ever let you leave." His hold on your strands tightens as your warm, wet mouth wraps around his swollen tip. A deep moan follows as you suckle on Rafe's head, flicking your tongue along his slit. You caress his balls, taking him to the back of your throat.
Rafe pushes you a little farther, releasing a needy moan as you deepthroat cock. Tears roll heavily down your cheeks as you take as much of him as you can get, gliding off slowly; swirling to the tip, making Rafe's eyes roll back. "Jesus Christ, angel, where's that gag reflex? Huh?" He laughs airly. "So good at sucking cock." Rafe pitches his hips, ramming you deep, making you gag. "Mmm... Shit. There she is," he groans.
Rafe slumps a little lower as he lifts the bottle to his lips, taking a pull. "Gonna bust my load already... Damn, you look good," he praises through a panting breath, making his stomach muscles flex. His thick thighs tremble as you start to stroke him with your mouth, rolling his heavy balls in your tiny hand. You release his cock with a pop, causing him to let out a desperate plea for more.
"M'so wet, Rafe," you whine, feeling your wetness drip from your pussy, gliding down your inner thigh. You take two fingers, skimming them through the mess. Rafe's already set, snatching your wrist; guiding your dainty fingers to his mouth.
He savors the taste, only releasing them when you tighten your lips around his dick again. Twisting your hand at the base, you bob up and down. Rafe follows your strokes, pressing you down here and there as he mumbles praise. "Lips look so good around my cock, sweetheart. Look at you, take it, baby. Such a good little slut f'me. Gag on it. Fuckin' gag on me. Mine... This mouth is fucking mine."
You hollow your cheeks, milking his cock with your mouth, making him whimper and shift in his chair as his eyes slam shut. "I'm right fuckin' there. I - I'm... Fuckkk," he moans, hazy eyes widening as you sink your pussy down on his dick instead.
"Bounce on my cock. Tits in your face," you whisper against his lips, repeating his words from his office as you lower the top of your dress as well.
"You're a fantasy, baby. Fuck." Rafe slaps your ass cheek roughly, then the other side, hissing out a breath as your pussy tightens around him. Rafe pants and groans, his muscles wound tight as he tries to hold steady, watching you as you ride and bounce on top. He's speechless, eyes moving from your face to your breasts; losing control when he glances down, watching the place where you connect; his thick cock glistening with you.
"Fuck me," he grunts in blissful defeat, taking a harsh grip on your hips, pounding deep. Rafe moans your name as he cums hard, continuing to fuck upward, gritting his teeth in overstimulation. No part of him wants to stop now that he has you like this. Rafe pulls you into his lips, kissing you slowly as you grind through his sticky spent.
"Should I stop?" You whisper, feeling Rafe's smile spread against your lips.
"No, princess. Don't fuckin' stop."
********
Your garter belt wraps around your thighs, lingerie hugging the fullness of your breasts; something new, something bought by Rafe just for you. It's a gorgeous set; cups made of two large satin ribbons tied at the center; your crotchless panties, a delicate red lace.
"C'mon, princess. Stop makin' me wait," he croons.
"This is too much, Rafe... I don't need all of this. Truly," you sigh as you round the corner, relaxing against the doorframe.
Rafe licks his lip, savoring each glimpse of bare skin. "Nah... This one's for me." He pushes off the bed, moving toward you, pulling you close before kissing you deeply, breaking away from time to time, solely to take you in. "Better than I imagined..."
"You thought about this?" You hum.
"More than I should, princess," Rafe breathes, lifting you into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as you bend your arms a little tighter around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
Rafe walks you over to the bed slowly, taking his time as you press your chest against his, hearts picking up pace together. He sets you down on the mattress, mounting you a moment later.
Rafe's absolutely beautiful like this: dark blonde hair a mess, flushed cheeked, skin dewy. He cages you in, admiring you for a moment before starting again. He grinds his dick against you, trailing pre cum on your skin as he works his body against yours. Rafe continues to tease the both of you, his cock, painfully hard as you wait for him to ease your ache.
He swirls his dick through your arousal, nudging your entrance with his swollen head. Rafe gives you one last look before dropping his focus low. "Shittt," he groans as your walls pull him in. He fights the urge to throw his hips into you, working slow enough to let you feel every curve and ridge until he's filled you to the brim. You don't even realize you're holding your breath until he rests his heavy head on your shoulder.
"Fuck, Rafe."
"Squeezin' me so tight," he breathes. Rafe completely bottoms you out, balls resting against your ass. He grips your hips, forcing himself even deeper, pressing his cock into you with his full weight making you squirm away slightly.
"Where are you goin', Princess?" He mumbles against your warm skin, the safeword you joked about during dessert right on the tip of your tongue, but the pleasure outweighs the pain.
"Nowhere, daddy," you pant as you wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to stay.
"My girl," Rafe growls, lips latching onto your neck, sucking harshly. He marks you with his lips, branding you with what will surely leave behind a dark purple hickey. His teeth sink into your skin, causing you to whimper.
Rafe starts to rock his cock into you, nailing your sweet spot each time. You wrap your arms around him, marking him in your own way as your manicured nails drive into his skin. Rafe moans your name, getting off on the ache.
His body drags away from yours, tugging at the bow between your breasts, letting the satin fall to your sides as he changes positions. Rafe starts to stroke as hands move from your hips to your breasts, gripping them tight, pinching and rolling your nipples before settling on your neck.
You wait impatiently for his grasp as Rafe studies his skin on yours. He smirks wickedly, watching the way his rings glint in the low lighting, his hand wrapped like a necklace around your pretty little throat.
Rafe tightens his grip, making your eyes roll back as he pumps into slow and deep, snapping his hips each time. You can feel yourself a little more breathless than before; your pulse felt under his heavy hand. You let out a choked cry as his other hand finds your clit, rubbing circles on top.
"Faster," you beg, your voice cock-drunk and hoarse.
"Mmm... Bet my little slut wants it harder too. Yeah?"
"Yes - Fuck," you squeal. Your breasts bounce with each clap of his hips, his fat tip kissing your g-spot with each thrust. Rafe gives it to you harder and faster as you feel your pleasure about to boil over.
He's just as pussy-drunk, eyes glossed, pupils blown. Your eyes flutter closed, drool seeping out of the corner of your plump lips. You feel Rafe's breath on your skin, his soft tongue cleaning you off just as he did with the champagne, spitting it back into your open mouth this time.
His tongue tangles with yours, sloppy and breathless, as you swallow each other's sounds. "M'gonna cum," you gasp, feeling tears of pleasure well in your eyes.
"Me too, baby. You gonna make a mess? Let me clean it up for you," he pants.
"Yeah-ahh," you answer shakily. Warm liquid squirts from your sex, soaking Rafe's thick cock and his expensive sheets. "Fuck, Rafe," you whimper. I can't believe I just did that... I've only seen that in porn. Rafe quickly snuffs out your embarrassment as he coaxes you further.
"Fuck, baby. Just like that. I think my girls got more in her. Don't you?" He grunts, not letting up, applying more pressure to your clit. You feel it again; a second release, Rafe fucking you through the spurts of your climax.
Rafe was right. He always gets what he wants.
"Gonna cum... Gonna fill you so full, Princess. Fuck," he moans.
"Cum in my pussy, daddy."
Rafe's eyes roll back at the sounds of your voice, his release following close behind, muscles tightening as he floods you with his finish.  He throws his head back, breathing deeply as he comes down from his high.
"Co'mere..." You whisper. Rafe gives you a satisfied smile, burying himself in your neck; holding you close for a moment before rolling you on top.
You rest your head on his chest, listening as his heart starts to slow with his breathing. Rafe's rough fingertips skim your spine as he releases a deep breath. "Mmm... Baby?" He mumbles sleepily, wrapping you tightly in his arms.
"Yes," you whisper, blissed out and breathless as you meet his beautiful eyes.
"You're never leaving."
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woso-dreamzzz · 10 days
Text
Race
Grace Clinton x Hamilton!Reader
Summary: Racing at its finest
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"And Verstappen comes around the second to last corner! It's tight! It is tight! But he's got it!"
Grace stares at the screen, eyes wide.
"The Hamilton siblings come out neck and neck on the same turn."
You battle it out with your brother, slamming your foot down as his attention wavers.
You'd been waiting for this for a while. It had always been harder for you than Lewis, you always had to push harder, further, faster just because you were a girl.
But you were good.
You knew you were good.
He knew you were good.
"And Hamilton's Mercedes makes way for Hamilton's Ferrari!"
Ferrari knew you were good.
You floored it, leaving your brother in the dust.
Grace clenches her fists.
"Hamilton is gaining on Verstappen on the last corner. Verstappen attempts defensive manoeuvres but...Verstappen still in the lead! Hamilton is trying to get past...On the straight now. And...And...Hamilton is leading! Hamilton is leading in the last seconds of the British Grand Prix! Verstappen tries to reclaim but-but- She's done it! Y/n Hamilton, the first woman to win a Grand Prix in F1 history!"
The room erupts as you cross over the line and Grace can hear you over the radio.
"Thank fuck!"
"Congratulations, y/n. First win for you."
You pant over the radio as you begin to slow down your car. "Where did Lewis rank?"
"Third. You beat Verstappen by two tenths of a second."
"Is Grace there? Can I talk to Grace?"
She grabs the radio. "I'm here, babe. I'm here. I'm so proud of you."
You cheer in the car. "D'you like it? I told you you'd like it!"
Grace laughs. "I could do without the near misses. Is your brother going to be annoyed you passed him?"
"Hey, there's a reason he's moving to my team's greener pastures. You coming out to see me, superstar?"
Your car rolls to a stop and Grace comes bursting out to see you. You're standing up on the frame of your car, looking at the fans as you take off your helmet, fist pumped into the air.
You jump down when you notice her, crushing her into a hug.
"You're sweaty!" She laughs.
"Like you have anything to say. Sweaty footballer, you are!"
Grace just keeps laughing, letting you pick her up and spin her around.
Lewis pulls up next as Grace fists the front of your outfit and tugs you into a heady kiss.
"Well done," He says to you," But do you have to do that in public?"
You grin. "Yeah. Not to brag but I just won. I think I'm allowed to kiss my girlfriend."
He groans good naturedly, bumping your shoulder with his. "You're going to use that as an excuse all the time, aren't you?"
"You know me so well."
You keep your hand laced with Grace's as you head up to the podium through the backways of the building.
"World Champion next year then?" She teases, completely relaxed under your arm.
You flash her a grin. "Is that what you want? 'Cause I can do that for you. I want a WSL title in return though."
"I can arrange that."
There's no one else around you. It's just you and her and you steal another kiss while no one is there to complain.
She gasps into your mouth but reciprocates quickly, one hand on your hip while the other cups the back of your neck.
"What would you say if I tell you that you looked so fit driving that car?" She whispers against your lips.
"I'd say that I was wearing a massive helmet that covered my face so there's no way I looked fit at all."
"Then I'd say it must have been your voice," Grace replies," All rugged and angry when Norris cut you up in the ninth lap."
"That sounds more reasonable," You say," You look fit when you kick around a ball for ninety minutes."
"Good." Grace draws back, lacing your fingers with hers as she pulls you to start walking again. "Now, go get that trophy so I can capitalise on just how fit you actually are."
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eustasskidagenda · 7 months
Note
hello!! ^^ this is my first time requesting, so hopefully i'm doing this correctly :;
can I request a trafalgar law/reader hurt to comfort oneshot, where the two of them get into a really big argument or fight and reader decides to leave him alone for a long time, so THAT eventually leads to some problems between the two and Law has to make things right??
(basically reader gives law the silent treatment, and law is too prideful to admit his wrongs)
thank you in advance!!! I've really enjoyed reading your kid works, so i'd be happy to see more of your writing :)
☆Trafalgar Law x Reader giving him the silent treatment after an argument 
Hello dear anon, don't worry, you did it perfectly and thank you so much for your request. I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope it will match your expectation. Enjoy our dear emo boy!
CW : g/n reader, hurt&comfort, Law is bad at express how he feels, let me know if I forgot something
WC : around 2,000 words, whoops, I love Law way too much, I got carried away
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Law is not a man of many words. That's the less you can tell. Always quiet about his plans, sometimes, you still struggle to understand what's going on in this beautiful mind. Usually, you just deal with it, supporting him as much as you can. But today, it's too much to handle. He is perpetually busy all day and night, and sometimes the bed is cold, and you know he didn't sleep with you. It hurts. You just have the feeling to carry on with this relationship alone. 
"We need to talk, Law." Busy with probably another shenanigan you don't know about, he totally ignores you and continues to read his newspaper. Again. Heavy-hearted, you close your eyes and clench your firsts. You can't step back and always try to round the corners. "Law", you insist. He finally drops the newspaper. "What, y/n-ya?" He asks, annoyed by the interruption. 
"Honestly, lately… I feel totally sidelined. You're always focused on your plans I don't nothing about, or busy with your patients. And it hurts" Law looks surprised by your words. Usually, you're more the one trying to smooth the things and trying to be super-comprehensive, because you do love Law, and you know he had been through a lot. Supporting him is the least you can do. But what about you? Your emotions? 
"I've not neglected you, y/n-ya. I'm just busy." Yes. That's the whole point. "You're always busy. If you don't need me anymore, just say it," you snarls, anger slowly heating your chest and burning your cheeks. Communication is maybe the key, but it's a struggle to communicate with someone as reserved as Law. The worst? You know he loves you. He's just… an aloof. Always distrustful. "Answer me," your voice is shaky from both anger and distress. " I have things to do, y/n-ya. Don't act like a child. I still feel the same way about you, and you know. " 
Maybe it's true, but you don't believe him anymore. You don't even remember the last time you kissed that sweet lips on him. And the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, when you redraw the lines of his tattoos, cuddling with him in bed. How can you feel the absence of someone you see every day? "I miss you," you confess. "But I'm right here. With you. I need to get those things done, so please be patient." Why can't he understand? With that unreadable face, he's still sitting on his chair. What's going on his mind? "What things, then?" He sighs. "I can't tell." 
No. It's enough. Now, you're mad. "Stop pushing me away! I miss you. Do you realize the absurdity of missing someone I can see every day? It's been four days since we last slept together! This morning, you didn't kiss me! You're always taking me for granted and I feel like I'm transparent!" At last, you manage to get a response from him. He removes his hat, runs his hand through his hair, and his eyes darken as your anger is about to explode. "Can you not be patient? I need to… finish what I'm working on. "
No.
Not this time.
He has already stated that too many times before. Before Dressrosa. Before Wano. You already waited way too long. Even for someone as patient as you, it's too much. " I'm tired," you confess, the voice which with emotions. "It can't keep going like this. Why am I always the second choice for you?"
Maybe it's because you always give everything you have to him. Supporting him, regardless of what. You had to break his armor several times to get closer to him, despite his distant and detached personality. The moment he finally confessed about his past was beautiful. The nights you spend together, simply talking about your lives, goals, and dreams, are rooted in your heart. A warm memory of two souls bonding and finding comfort through words and confession. Now, everything is just fading away. And you hate how angry and confused you sound, when Law is just as calm as always. Does he even notice what you just said? You can't tell.
"You don't even answer me. Such a shame to be named heart pirates when you don't even have one." you explodes, shouting the words.
"I don’t think it's the right time to talk about this because you're too emotional y/n-ya. "
"And you're too logical!"
The saying goes that opposites attract, but you're not so certain anymore. 
"I'm just so fucking done!" Now, you're screaming and Law growls, "Shh, don't yell, everyone will hear us," he says, caring way too much about his privacy. "I don't care! Just say something! " He looks so tired, with his usual dark rings under his eyes. "Leave me or not, but do something because I'm so done with this shit. I'm the only one trying to communicate and make things right!"
You slam the door of his small office with anger and tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. He doesn't follow you. He remains confined, choking on his own pride. He probably thinks you will be back soon, as always after an argument. But not this time. You're really done. It's his time to make some efforts, to prove that he actually cares about you and your relationship. 
At the diner, he doesn't show up. During the night either. It's not easy to distance yourself from him. But you will not change your mind. After three days, he finally starts to realize that you will not come after him. 
Why aren't you bringing him his morning coffee, massaging his tensed shoulders, and spreading your stupid concealer under his eyes? All those small actions you always do to lighten his burden as a captain… damn, he never felt that lonely. But what can he do now? How can he fix the mess he made?
The Polar Tang's ambiance is as cold as a winter island after a week. Everybody noticed the huge tensions between you and the Law. The captain is irritable, barking orders at everyone and looking for you everywhere, but you're just hiding from him. He's exhausted by this situation. He's starting to understand what you said: he misses you, even if you're here. 
It's becoming too much for his tortured soul after 10 straight days. The pain in his heart is unbearable. In reality, he feels like a child he never had the chance to be: terrified, lost and alone. Are you going to leave him too? Why is everyone around him always dying or disappearing? Is it always his fault? Now, he feels miserable, almost crying alone in his office. He can't even focus when Bepo asks him to bandage a small wound he just made. His hair is messy because he runs his hands through it too much. Law sighs heavily. His nerves completely fading away as he struggles to bandage Bepo. Why the hell is he crying over a poor bandage? 
He's exhausted. Physically and mentally. An he misses you. Deeply. He understands everything you said that day. He understands how you have felt lately and it's a horrible sensation. You didn't deserve the way he pushed you away from everything. He misses the warmth of your body, the passion in your sweet kisses, and your hands redrawing his chest tattoo. 
He needs to make things right. 
In this situation, what Corazon would have done? 
Probably running after you after slamming the door, falling miserably on the ground, and crying pathetically with an ugly nose running. Law frowns. But at this point, he's so desperate that he wouldn't mind crawling and begging for your forgiveness. He stumbles out of his office, tired, and looks for you. How can you hide on such a small ship? "Have you seen y/n?" He asks to everyone and they all they say no. Are they lying? Where have you gone? Did something happen to you? Poor Law is so stressed right now, more than usual. He spent the entire day looking for you and failed. Is it too late? Have you just left? Without a goodbye? No. It can't be. He needs to see, kiss, and hug you. Just one more time, just one last time. Even if feels that he doesn't deserve you. 
He slams the door of the bedroom you used to share with brutal force. As he takes off his hat before laying on the mattress, he sighs and an idea crosses his mind. But he's afraid. Because if his plan is not working, it will mean you have already left the Polar Tang. For good. Hands shaking, he finally moves his fingers and mutters, 'room, shambles'. Your plushie disappears as you suddenly pop on the bed. 
Oh, thank god, you didn't leave. "Y/n-ya" he whispers, his voice thick with emotions. 
Your heart is pounding as you remain silent. Ten days. Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin helped you hide from Law for ten days straight. Giving him the silent treatment was a difficult choice and all you can hope for is that it actually worked. "I'm not a man of many words," he confesses. "But I do love you. I'm sorry for always pushing you away, please forgive me. It's just that... I need to keep you out of trouble. If you don't know my current plan for now, it's safer. " For someone as quiet as him, he's talking a lot. But still not enough."I think I've taken you for granted, but I want to be there for you. Please, let me stay by your side. Don't leave me, please." He almost begs, his voice thick with emotions. 
His gentle touch on your cheek almost melts you.  You missed those beautiful, smooth hands on your face. You get closer, enjoying the warm heat heating up your chest. "You're so beautiful", he whispers. He looks so genuinely innocent, discovering again all the small details of your face. What has he done to be so fortunate in love? Does he only deserve you? You can tell that he's not even sure as he waits for your answer, trying to hide the slight shaking in his movements. 
"I love you, Law." You gently assure him by kissing the tattoos on his fingers. As the solace embraces his heart, Law is melting inside.
He didn't lose you. It's not too late. "I know you're not good at words, so I won't ask for much. What you just said is already perfect. Thank you for confessing to me. I know it's hard for you to open up." you reassure him. "What should I do, y/n-ya? How can I show you that I care about you? I won't repeat this situation twice." His eyes are now shining with pure determination. "Just the small things you used to do before. Sleeping with me, giving me a hello and a goodnight kiss... you remember that? Our routines." Law nods, probably taking mental note. "I have to kiss you twenty times." You raise an eyebrow confusedly. "Why?" 
He shrugs. "It's been ten days since I last saw you. And I'm supposed to kiss you all mornings and evenings." He's so serious right now, you can't help but burst out laughing. He's not joking at all. God, you love this nerd so much. The confusion on his face is even more hilarious. " I love you," you sigh between two laughs. "Why are you laughing? Am I wrong?" That man is so smart, cold and logical, but with love… he's just a mess. A beautiful mess. The one you will always love and cherish. "You're so adorable."
And now, he's blushing. How dare you call him adorable? "Just come here," he sighs, grabs your hips, and sits you on his laps. His lips are sealed to yours, and he kisses you. Twenty times. And he's counting. Every kiss is filled with passion, love, unspoken emotions, and sweet promises. 
And, as always when you're together in the same bed, you end up redrawing the tattoos on his chest. As you gently caress his skin, he falls asleep, the tension finally leaving his face. You cradle your head against his chest. His heart is slowly beating, and he looks so calm right now. 
You are here with him, and his tortured mind can finally get some sleep.
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dollyhao · 7 months
Text
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pastor’s wife!reader x perv!ellie
summary: ellie moves to a new neighborhood and is instantly infatuated with her innocent, married next door neighbor.
cw: teasing, dirty thoughts, cunnilingus (r!receiving), fingering, talk of the bible and church. (yall ion know shit bout church but i hope this is satisfying i know some people were excited about this.)
word count: 1.8k
.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.
how fucking unlucky does ellie have to be to move next door to a damn pastor. ellie moved in 2 weeks ago when the pastor was at her door for a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ visit. ellie has to literally stop herself from rolling her eyes at him when he mentions ellie coming to the church sometime that is until ellie sees someone out of her peripheral vision walking over to the two of them.
ellie feels like the world slows down. she sees a young woman, older than her but still young, walk over to her and the pastor holding a glass container of cupcakes. “hello, these are for you. welcome to the neighborhood!” you say with a beaming smile, handing over the cupcakes. you're wearing a ribbon as a headband and a knee length length dress with knee-high socks on. looking impossibly cute and innocent.
“hi, i’m ellie by the way.” ellie responds smiling a seemingly sweet smile, but there is nothing innocent going through her mind. “this is my wife,” the pastor said wrapping his arm around your waist. ellie literally cringes, he's like, twice your age. ellie sees you slowly pull out his hold with a strained smile.
“oh well thank you. i have to go back inside. it was nice meeting you two though.” ellie gives a tight slip smile. “of course. don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything and i mean anything.” you say grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. you and the pastor walk off back to your house and ellie closes the door.
now she might be tripping but ellie thinks that you were hinting at something with that last statement but she probably just imagined it.
that night, ellie is playing a game on her pc when she takes a quick look out the window but does a double take when she sees you in a soft purple underwear and bra set rubbing lotion on your legs. ellie has a direct view of your tits and how they sit just perfect in that bra.
you walk away from the window digging through your drawers, still in her line of sight, to get a cute, short silky night gown. your back is towards her when you go to pull the nightgown over your head, she has the perfect view of your ass. fuck, ellie just wants to bend you over that same bed your senior citizen of a husband sleeps in and fuck the shit out of you until your begging for her to let you cum. you walk over to the window looking directly at ellie, there’s no mistaking it this time, blushing at her before pulling the curtains closed. she swears she sees a small smile.
ellie is totally dripping wet right now. and shes decided, ellie has to have you.
ellie walks over to you a couple days later while your outside gardening one morning. you look up at her, "hi ellie!" you say standing, taking your gloves off giving her your full attention. "hey i was hoping you could teach me more about the bible and.. stuff." ellie doesn't know anything about this shit or care, but if it gets her in your pants, she's all for it.
"of course ellie! i'd love to. meet me at church tomorrow?"
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
"please give donations to the church, they are going to a family in need right here in our community thank you and have a blessed day." the pastor says. everyone stands and walks around conversing. ellie is standing against a wall in the back of the church, watching you.
you shake hands and smile with gossipy older women. she waits until the church is practically empty and your picking up items left on seats putting them in the lost-n-found, to approach you. "ellie!" you say smiling at her, "when did you get here, i didnt see you through the whole sermon?" "a little while ago, i watched from the back," she says hands in her pocket and standing infront of you, "you look cute" she says looking at your lilac dress.
"thank you.." you say giving her a shy smile, walking over to the lost n found box, with her following behind. you put the random stuff in the box turning around finding ellie really close. "did you enjoy the um…sermon?" you whisper staring into her eyes. ellie hums, putting a hand on your waist.
she leans in, her lips ghosting yours. you lean forward before ellie backs up. "i dont really feel like the bible reading today. how bout next week?" she says hand rubbing up and down your waist. you nod, too nervous to talk. "...y-yea, thats fine. ill see you then." you say when you finally find your voice. ellie walks out leaving you there confused and excited.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
everyday the next week, ellie has been going over to your house for an hour to read the bible, with or without your husband there, trying to get closer to you. while you two are sitting on your couch one day, your reading a passage from the book, while ellie's staring at your face, not giving a fuck about what your reading, just thinking how pretty you would look with her dick in ya mouth.
you glance up at ellie catching her staring. you sit the book between the two of you, resting your head on the back of the couch, staring back. then you start giggling, "whats so funny." ellie says setting her copy of the book down too. "your so pretty ellie." you give her a soft smile. ellie blushes, shes not used to people calling her pretty, not even ex-girlfriends.
"thank you. your very beautiful yourself" she says not looking you in the eye. you scoot closer to her, "lets be friends ellie." you say grabbing her hands in yours, looking at her with those bambi eyes. "yea? i would like that, but if were going to be friends we can't read the bible every time we're together." ellie says chuckling.
"of course, how bout we watch a movie?" you suggest standing up, walking over to the tv. ellie knows that the movies you have are probably super PG, so she suggests you go over to her house 'because her tv is bigger'.
you get to ellie’s house and she puts on the gayest wlw movie she has. you two are snuggled on the couch under a blanket when a kiss scene comes on. the scene starts sweet but turns dirty quick. ellie looks over at you expecting to see shock but instead sees you squirming.
"you alright?" ellie asks whispering in your ear. you nod your head quickly. "im ok." you sit there for a couple more seconds, watching the scene before grabbing the remote and pausing it. you turn towards ellie, "i have a confession." you say looking down playing with your ring again. "what is it?"
you take a deep breath before mumbling, "i.. i like to watch girl on girl... videos." ellie looks at you shocked, this was gonna be easier than she thought. "i know its a sin to watch those kind of videos let alone the gay kind. but whenever i watch it, i just feel so... horny." you say, whispering that last part, glancing up at ellie. "im not sure im attracted to my husband... or men in general. and i know you like girls, i saw how you were looking at me from the window a couple weeks ago... so will you show me?"
ellie blinks, shes been trying to stop a smirk from breaking across her face the whole time you've been rambling. "show you what?" ellie knows what you mean but she wants to hear you say it. "show me what its like," you grab her hand placing it on your boob, "to be touched by a girl." she can't wait no more, she has to kiss you.
ellie leans in kissing you deeply, cradling your head slowly pushing you to lay back on the couch never disconnecting your lips. ellie slowly trails her hands from your breast to your waist while pushing her tongue in your mouth. you whimper already soaked. ellie is going too slow for you, you need more, so you lift her shirt up running your hands over her tummy hoping she'll get the message.
ellie takes off your dress straps pulling the dress down under your boobs. you have this cute white lace bra on. ellie disconnects her lips from yours looking down at you, she groans cupping your boob, "you have no idea how sexy you are." she whispers before biting and sucking on your boobs.
she sits up to look at you. your breathing heavy, with your tits covered with spit and bites and your dress askew. "cmon ellie. your taking too long." you say grabbing her hand putting it under your dress. "how impatient.." ellie grins leaning back down, kissing on your neck pulling your panties to the side, running her fingers up and down your pussy feeling just how wet you are. "have you ever been this wet before?" she asks popping her finger in her mouth.
"no, never..." your breathing gets heavier as ellie slides her finger into you curling it. your back arches gripping on the couch cushion, moaning out ellie's name. ellie lowers herself giving you little kitten licks, making you buck for more. ellie latches on to your clit sucking and licking while fucking you with her two fingers.
you chant her name gripping onto her hair. you are seeing white spots, "omg ellie, i-i feel weird.." ellie chuckles coming back up to bite at the sensitive spot under your ear, fucking you faster. "you gonna cum baby, you ever did that before?" she asks biting at your ear. you shake your head, feeling the knot in your tummy burst. you moan out, whimpering as ellie lets you ride out your orgasm.
she pulls her fingers out, popping them in her mouth again staring you in your eyes. you let out a cute mewl. ellie sits up, looking down at you. "how do you feel?" ellie says as you pant with a dazed look on your face. you look at her flustered, wrapping your arms around her shoulder, pulling her down to you, planting sweet pecks on her lips.
“Like i wanna do it again.” you smile.
@aouiaa @elliespookie @thefrenchlesbian @bratydoll @elliens4
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acapelladitty · 10 days
Note
Okay, I haven't finished the show yet, but I NEED more Cooper content and you did amazingly last time. That being said, I NEED (am asking you politely, whenever you have time and/or wish to write this) Cooper being overstimulated. Pretty please, and much thanks!
- Supervillain-Smut
For you baby? Anything! Have some Cooper being overstimmed and teased just below the read more 👀💦😈
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Of the many downsides which came with the Ghoul transformation, arguably one of the worst which Cooper had long come to terms with was the loss of sensation across the leathered skin which covered his body. A valuable boon in a shootout, it let him focus his attention on the action at hand without worrying too much about the damage, but when the guns were holstered and the cold nights settled in, that same loss of sensation was a right pain in the ass when he was trying to get his rocks off.
Although, it was a reality of his situation which didn't seem to affect her and the wickedly cruel things she enjoyed putting him through on a regular basis.
"Come on, handsome."
Perched atop his thighs as she stroked her soft hand along his painfully hard cock, her warmth seeped into his own as it took every piece of willpower in his old bones to not knock her to the floor and sink himself as deeply into her cunt as he could to get some relief.
But a bet was a bet, and he wasn't one to give up without a good fight.
Already having been pulled back from the edge of release twice, his cock felt heavy and overheated as it jutted against his stomach. A small patch of pre-cum decorated the leathery skin where the livid head of his cock brushed against him with every jerk and slight cant of his hips.
"It looks almost painful, Coop." She mused, trailing the pads of her fingers along the prominent veins which lined his cock - the texture there something he knew she was fascinated by as it often stretched her out in ways that had her muffling her cries into his shoulders. "Maybe we should stop. Give it a little time to rest."
"Promises, promises, handsome."
"If you stop touchin' me, darling, then I'm not gonna be responsible for the outcome." Cooper grunted, the final word glancing up at the final syllable as her soft thumb rubbed a solid line across the ridge where his shaft met the head - a sensation which made his balls tighten and his throat stutter as it fired intense waves of pleasure across his stiff frame. "I'd throw you to the floor and show you things that not even the monsters who walk alongside the worst of them would dream about."
"Tastes like you."
"One I intend to keep, darli-fuck."
Hissing the expletive as her pointer finger teased at his slit, she gathered a small bead of his pre-cum and brought it to her lips. With a salacious flick, she swallowed down the slight taste with a pleasant hum.
Unable to help the grinding of his hips, Cooper bucked subtly into the air as he watched her filthy actions. Those same lips had sucked him dry many a time with such finesse that he found himself going out of his way to perform little acts of kindness for her in the hope that she'd see fit to grace him with another performance.
"Quit teasin' and get to it before I blow a hole in your head and finish myself off." He warned, hands gripping her thighs so roughly that he knew little crescent bruises would soon loom in the area.
Obviously ignoring his threat, her hand dropped to cup at his balls roughly, squeezing and rolling them between her fingers as a growl of pained arousal made his cock twitch, untouched.
"Oh, it's gonna blow alright. But only when you've been good enough to deserve it."
A bet was a bet.
And Cooper Howard would be a stubborn son of a bitch to the bitter end as he twisted his lips into an off-kilter smile and forced himself to relax into her touch.
"Whatever you say, darlin'."
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