Tumgik
#gettin' square
sulieykte · 1 year
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quirkle2 · 3 months
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this is technically a screenshot redraw but it got outta hand at the end. wanted to try out one of those giant pixel LED screen effects
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spotsupstuff · 10 months
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Has sparrows ever seen caper without his face plate on?
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she Is his Mechanic (which is like.. a doctor almost) so like every month, yes! sometimes it should happen more often but Euros hates sittin' still with his puppet. if he's already Focusing on it and Using it, it bettah be feckin movin
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kuwdora · 4 months
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i have a bounty of fanart this week!! my geralt and yennefer print from @llorithaine arrived! not hung up yet but ahhhhhhhh!!!!!! look at them 😍
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@llorithaine i am so happy, thank you so much for this!
@llorithaine's shop is here and he's also taking commissions over on ko-fi! Definitely check it out.
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ereborne · 2 months
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Song of the Day: March 25
"Groovy Little Summer Song" by James Otto
#song of the day#it's not at all summer yet but it is spring!!#it's chilly when the wind blows and the dew-damp sticks around until noon but the sun is out and the sky is maybe not clear but close!#spring!!!!#I put my first early plantings in the garden today#I had planned for a bunch of marigolds but I got a different batch of flowers instead#so now what's down is rootings for a bunch of perennial flowers#sea holly and red-hot pokers and butterfly weed and hollyhocks#and then my little pea plants#I told Kelly I'd share pictures but for today it only looks like a square of dirt--I'll definitely share pics when my sprouts come in!!#beautiful beautiful garden times#summer of 2010 when this song came out was the first time in three-ish years I'd spent much continuous time with my family#my littlest siblings were old enough to be away from Mom for a while and still young enough to be lulled to sleep by the car#and Mom was very eager to be left home alone to sleep (and play this weird chicken bowling game she was briefly addicted to)#and so we went on a lot of long leisurely pointless car rides and we listed to a lot of#(I will never not hear this in my head) 96.9 The Kat! country music radio#and this got added to the short list of songs I sang to myself#it's so catchy!! cute fun moderately-bouncy little earworm and my voice cruises up and down it so easy#'when the days start gettin warmer / the sun starts sinkin slower / weekends go by faster / and beer starts tastin colder#wanna tune into a station / takes me on a soul vacation / hey there mister dj / come on won't you please play'#and crucially Dad did not mind this song--which could not be said for 'There Is No Arizona' by Jamie O'Neal#or (after I sang it approximately ninety million times) 'Just What I Do' by Trick Pony#we also had--this was very fun for me--we had exactly one CD we could play in the car (because it was stuck in the disk player)#and that was Joe Diffie's 'Third Rock From The Sun'#so many songs of absolute joy on that album. lucky as hell that Dad agreed because it meant we'd crank it up so loud#close my eyes and let the sun shine all red through my eyelids#sing some real dumbass enjoyable-as-all-getout songs at the top of my absolute voice#Dad laughing and singing along and the littles sleeping through the all of it like the precious babies they were#these are the songs of sunshine and pointless happiness! it's not summer but it will be! my garden doesn't have plants yet but it will!#sing a song!!
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pcktknife · 2 years
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I'm having reservations abt this job ugrh
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milfyspamton · 1 year
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every day i am mad that i had just started getting into using square brackets for comedic effect right before i started liking spamton and now i cant use them bc then people will Think
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hauntingblue · 1 year
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The duela and tanner romance that is coming as a batjokes reference doesn't sit right with me
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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The Pit
COD masterlist Part 1/2 - Part 2
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 6.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, dub con, kidnapping, manipulative hurt/comfort, whump, the guys shave you, humiliation, forced orgasm, predator/prey, medical inaccuracies. Clothed males/naked female. The Pit by Silversun Pickups. Horror-ish. Misery inspired.
Winter in the mountains can be cruel. 
This is something you’ve always known, even as a child. You were raised with it. Chose to return to it after school, decided to make a go of it, of a life here, as an adult. You knew what you were getting yourself into, long cold winters that felt both bleak and promising, unblemished blankets of snow possessing the ability to be stunning, while also lethal. Winters were dangerous, silent killers that left corpses in their wake and no amount of lupine or paintbrushes, glacier fed lakes or springtime moose calves could make up for the hell that winter wrought. Winter brings most living things to the knife’s edge of survival, forcing most to bow beneath the weight of its fury, backs breaking with the burden of just existing in an environment that truly acts, and feels, inhospitable. 
Although, there are those who do more than survive the cold, violent stretch of winter.
There are predators who thrive. 
“You closin’?” Your coworker, the new one, asks from where she’s settled across the dark wood bar, two amber Budweiser bottles empty in front her idle hands, eyes wandering to guys posted up by the loneliest pool table in fifty square miles. 
“I am.” She casts the only window in the entire place a surreptitious glance, fingers peeling away at a label. It’s snowing, has been for hours, flakes fat and wet, fluffy enough that the density of the snow on the ground is light, but dangerous, as it hides the real risk underneath; packed snow sitting with a slick sheen of ice on top. 
“You still trying to make it over Fall River pass tonight?” You nod. 
“Yeah. Supposed to see my brother and his new place this weekend.” 
“Fall River? Is that even open right now?” Andy, a regular who lives a few streets over from you, chimes in, twisting an empty rocks glass in his fist. You pull the bottle of Jameson from the rail and tip it vertical, honey brown liquid sloshing like a wave until his glass is halfway full, and he gives you a flirty kind of smile, the same one he’s been giving you for a year now. Yeeesh.
“It is. I could go around, but it just takes too long. And it’s Friday. I’m not trying to be stuck on the highway with weekend traffic.” You complain, and they both commiserate your opinion. The traffic is brutal, especially in the winter. Driving in hazardous conditions is considered to be a talent more than an innate ability here, and people often overestimate their aptitude for it, causing crashes and delays that get the highway shut down for hours, or even days, at times. You shrug. “I’ve had my snow tires on for weeks. Might as well get some use out of them.” Andy snorts. 
“Like you haven’t been gettin’ good use out of them? First real snow was before Halloween this year.” You nod. He’s not wrong. You did get dumped on two weeks before the end of October, twenty-three inches piling up within two days, before half the area was even ready for it. You throw him a polite smile, one that you hope reads like ‘okay thanks for the concern, we’re done now’ and he sighs. “Well, drive safe.” 
Fall River pass, it turns out, is not open. It’s closed by the time you split off from the interstate and start the windy, switch-backed trek in your jeep, flashing orange and yellow lights dotting the top of a barricade just barely visible through the speckled snow flying by in your headlights. 
Fuck. You could have sworn the DOT website said it was open. You take a deep breath, quelling the anxiety that roils your stomach. Okay. Not the end of the world. There’s another road. A less maintained option, but… you’ll be fine. You’ve driven in worse. 
The other road, a sharp, narrow, desolate path that cuts through a large swath of unmanaged forest just outside the national park, is easy at first. You’ve been driving the same jeep for years, a 2007 two door Wrangler, and you know how it handles like the back of your hand. With snow tires, it could pretty much cut through anything, even unplowed, fire watch roads like this one. 
Which is why, after the first few miles, your nerves fully settle, and you allow yourself to relax a little bit behind the wheel, easing the jeep across the dips and slicks in the road as you cautiously build speed, snow falling fast through night, growing thicker the higher you travel into wilderness territory, and the farther you left modern civilization behind. 
An hour creeps by, and then two. Long enough that you’ve now realized you’re the only one using this road, fresh snow blanketing the woods around you, topography and vegetation starting to change as you encroach on what you assume must be eleven thousand feet. You’ve seen this road on google maps once, or twice maybe, having noted it for future travel just in case of a situation like this. It runs perpendicular to Fall River, and eventually meets another, one that must be similar, on the other side of the range. The secondary road is one that takes you along the ridge, and then down, you’re pretty sure, although you can’t be one hundred percent certain, because you lost cell reception before you even turned off from Fall River.
Still, won’t hurt to check and see if you have this area downloaded. 
You pull your phone from the center console, thumbing at the screen, allowing your eyes to linger too long without looking back up through the windshield. No one else is out here. It’s not like you need to worry about oncoming traffic. The little SOS insignia blinks at the top corner, and you tap on the map icon, hoping it will bring up your geo location so you can glance at the satellite image of the area. 
You’re so fixated watching the little circle of death try to load, that by the time you look up and see the tree laying across the road, it’s far too late. You do the first thing you were always taught not to do in winter conditions, and slam on the brake, shoving the pedal to floor, heart rate sky rocketing as you panic and lose total control of the jeep. You spin, shoulders and chest jamming against the seatbelt, headlights flashing off into the woods, illuminating an endlessly dark web of trees, bark and branch scratching across the paint as you careen off the road, tipping too precariously onto two wheels and then rolling. 
Time, your life, stands completely still for a moment. You see every individual fiber of the pine needles, every uniquely designed snowflake, every single droplet of blood that floats away from your face and through midair as you crash through the forest, your grasp on consciousness slipping farther and farther away, the jeep finally coming to a stop on its side, your head cracked against the driver’s window, stars and streaks spawning out across your vision, headlights finally blinking out completely, leaving you alone in the dark. Your head spins like you’re still rolling, and the only sound in the dead silent snow is your harsh breathing, frantic terror bubbling up through your throat as pain surges through your body. 
It's freezing, but you feel surprisingly warm. 
You’re going to die out here. No one knows you took this road, you don’t have service, by the time they find you, it’ll be too late. You’ll be a bled out, frozen corpse, long gone and- 
You lose your train of thought quickly. Everything starts to fracture, fissures forming in your consciousness, part of you already losing the battle to the inevitable, darkness pulling over your eyes like a knit hat, lungs heaving just a little harder with each breath. 
You could just close your eyes. Just for a moment. 
Light sweeps across the ground, flashing across your face. You think, if you were truly with it, in your right mind, you’d think it was too bright. You’d say it was blinding. 
But you can’t formulate anything of the sort, mind too busy slipping away, falling into an inky black depth, just barely on the verge when you feel a gloved hand on your skin, the lilt of an accent on the wind. 
Sleep. 
You’re drifting. Falling through a stardusted, molasses filled haze, your mind ebbs and flows with consciousness; soft and warm feelings contrasted with sharp pain that bites through your body as if it’s slowly trying to eat you, chipping away piece by piece.
There are words, voices. There are hands too, fingers walking across your skin, limbs being moved, arranged, always with pain that’s followed by a hushed whisper of apology, a confusing sentiment in the dark. Your eyes won’t open. Your mouth won’t work. Your head is stuffed with cotton, wispy strands of connections that can’t quite get there, scrounging along the walls of your skull, trying to meet in the middle. You’re drowning, sinking to the bottom of a macabre pool, the one that’s infected your synapses and kept you just inside the shelter of delirium.
You try to call for help, but you can’t.
You try to swim to the surface, but the grisly black of your mind is never ending.
You’re dying, the tiny sliver of rational thought assures. Or you’re already dead.
Despair swells, and if you could feel your face, you’d think you were crying, lost to the sweeping desolation of your pain. It steals your breathe. Your sense. Everything becomes secondary to the obliterating agony that you feel. 
Something touches your cheek. Your eyes fight to open, straining against the heaviness that weighs on them, just barely blinking wide enough to let some light in, your vision fuzzily trying to focus.
Wood beams come into view. A ceiling? Where-
You try to turn your head but an electric shock rattles through your brain, forcing you to slam your eyes shut again, world spinning on an uneven axis as something on the edge of your sight shifts. A monster. A man?
Something is said, whispered, and then everything fades away, your mind and body slipping beneath the waves of darkness.
The next time you surface, you manage to cling to consciousness long enough to take stock of your surroundings, realizing you’re tucked into a soft, warm bed almost immediately, something hot near your feet, pillows fluffed beneath you. A hand stitched quilt is spread across the top of copious other blankets and sheets, and your fingertips scratch against the fabric. Flannel.
You’re also awake long enough to truly experience the pain you’re in.
One thousand tiny knives rattle around in your skull, slicing into the soft matter of your brain, tearing you apart piece by piece, everything in you unmoored and off balance. Searing pain radiates up your leg, through your arm and wrist to your head and neck, and when your instinct urges you to try to move, your body screams in protest, the pain so intense that you cry out.
That’s when you see him.
A man steps towards you from the edge of your peripheral, and you freeze in terror.
“Shhh. We’re not goin’ hurt ye. Ye had a terrible accident. Pure luck we found ye when we did, dove. Ye would’ve died out there.” He coos in an accent, inching closer, and you manage to get a better look at him, recognition failing immediately. An accident? An accident… memories come flooding back, broken clips of the jeep spinning, rolling, the woods, the fear. Who is he? Where are you? Brilliant blue eyes look down at you with concern, handsome face tweaked into worry, furrow in his brow partially covered by the long strands of an overgrown mohawk. He’s pretty. “Can ye follow my finger?” He presents one in front of your nose, but it splits into two, and then three, just the attempt to focus enough to make your head throb, and a whimper escapes from your throat. “I know, I know.” There’s a ceramic mug in his hand, and he carefully lifts it to your lips, encouraging you as he tips it back, warm, sweet liquid washing down your throat. You can’t even move your arms to push him away, and when he seems to be satisfied, his thumb wipes the corner of your mouth. “Good love. Well done.” You feel woozy all of the sudden, maybe even a little nauseous, and you think you could be hallucinating when another man appears at the foot of the bed, handsome, but in a rugged way, watching you with honeyed brown eyes, the broadest, biggest thing you’ve ever seen.
“Those bones need setting.” He says, and the pretty one grimaces, fingertips trailing along your cheek.
“Maybe tomorrow. I’m still worried about the concussion.” His thumb cards across your brow.
“It’s been three days, Johnny. Can’t put it off too much longer.” Three days? Your brain latches onto the time. Three days of what? Since when? You’re starting to fade, trying to focus on what they’re saying but losing the battle horrendously when the blankets shift, warmth tucking down around your waist and shoulders, unable to react or even speak when they both press a kiss to your forehead, affectionate and longing touch that startles you until you’re losing the battle to sleep.
It's snowing.
You don’t have to see to know. There’s something about how it hangs in the air, how the world sounds during a snowfall that blankets everything: houses, trees, mountains… your mind.
You love the snow. Even as a child, winter was your favorite. Winter brought you a sense of calm, of peace. It’s what brought you back here, kept you here, even amidst the perils. The feeling of a forest, lying still beneath the soft spun expanse of white, the crisp smell of the air the morning of a big snow, the eternal quiet that exists in the night when everything is dampened by the weight of a million, billion, uniquely crystalized webs of frozen water.
This snow feels different. It doesn’t feel like a velvety white, candy-coated dream world; but a nightmare… one filled with pain, anxiety. Where are you? What’s happened? 
And why do you hurt so fucking bad? 
“You’re awake.” A deep voice says from your side, and you flinch on instinct, immediately wishing you hadn’t as lightning sharp pain zings through you, your voice breaking with a cry. “Easy.” He cautions, and your head stops swimming long enough for you to realize it’s the brown eyed man, the bigger one. He’s sitting in a chair that looks far too small for his width, watching you with an intensity that makes you feel exposed.
“Where… am I?” You manage to choke out through stiff lips, your head spinning and the world tilting at the same time. It sours your stomach, more than you thought possible, and you try to swallow the burn of bile that’s racing up your throat.
“Are you going to be sick?” He strokes your face, the touch nearly sweet, but confusing, and you hold your tongue, unsure. He sighs, expression shifting into disapproval, and then a frown. “Tell me.”
“N-no, I don’t-“ You can’t even finish your denial before your stomach is heaving and he’s springing into action, shifting you onto your side where a clean bucket sits right next to the bed. You wail in misery, pain shooting through your leg and arm, your ribs, bile and spit leaking from your mouth.
“It’s alright, that’s it.” A hand soothes up and down your back as you dry heave, sputtering on nothing, tears dripping to the wooden floorboards with a splash.
“Nnrgh-“
“I know, I know. Poor thing.” He coos, and it sounds… endearing, so sweet yet… frightening, like the poison of a predatory, a pretty display meant to draw you in before it snaps a set of jaws shut around your face.
Somewhere, nestled inside the last shards of your sanity, an alarm bell whistles, but the intensity of your pain quickly drowns it out, and you cry aloud.
“Hurts.” He rolls you back to your original position, arranging you like a doll. “It hurts.”
“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. We’re going to fix it.” A cloth dabs at your forehead and then down to clean your mouth, just as the man with the mohawk appears on the bed, one knee down, leaning over you, worry rife in his features.
“Poor baby. Were ye sick again?” Again? You blink up at him. What is going on? He presses a glass to your lips, urging you to drink, and then pulling it away after you’ve had a few sips with a gentle “not too much.”
“Who are you?” The water is cold, refreshing, but a ting acidic, and you wonder if it’s well water, maybe?
“I’m Johnny.” He’s setting up something beside you, organizing it, but you can’t turn your head to look, and can’t quite catch it from your peripheral. “An’ this is Simon. Or Si, but ye probably willnae be callin’ him that quite yet.” Quite yet? What? Did they find you? Did they rescue you? Why can’t you remember? 
“What happened.” You try again, gritting your teeth.
“Ye had an accident, remember? We talked about it yesterday. Ye rolled off the road, ended up nearly down the mountain, in the thick of the trees. Ye’re lucky the one didnae impale ye.” Impale?
“And you found me?” You're starting to feel tired again, all the sudden, woozy and weird, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Shouldn't you be in a hospital? Why haven't they taken you to a doctor?
“Aye, we did. Pulled ye out, brought ye home.” Home?
“You don’t have to worry.” Simon, the bigger one, tells you. “We’re going to take care of you.” Take care of who? Everything is foggy, clouded, and you try to shake your head in confusion.
“I don’t… why-“
“Storm is pretty bad. One of those, once in a lifetime types. Pass is closed.” You close your eyes. Of course. The pass is closed. You guess you’re lucky. They could have left you to die, and you could have never been found. You could have frozen to death. Bled out.
“Thank… thank you.” Johnny hums, and then you ripple in shock as he leans forward and brushes his lips against your mouth in a kiss. This… this is not normal? Are Scottish people just… more affectionate? 
“Want ye to know, if we didnae have to do this, we woudnae.” What?
“Do what?” Simon casts you a mournful glance, rising from the chair. He’s got piece of leather in his hand, like a cut from a belt, and your eyes dart between them, fear freezing solid inside your pores. Do what?
“Bite down on this, precious.” Simon instructs, placing the swatch against your bottom lip, and you jerk away in protest, pain burning through your body.
“Do what?” You try to sound strong, demanding, but it comes out a little less than timid, and he gives you a sad smile.
“Your femur is broken.” A warm hand rests on your leg, over the covers, and you try to click the pieces together. “And I suspect your radius is, too. We need to set them.”
Oh. Oh no. 
“N-no, no, you… you ca-can’t.” You stutter. They can’t. A doctor should be doing that, shouldn’t they? Johnny hovers over you, placing his palm on your belly, stroking upwards to the middle of your chest, the other holding firm across your collarbone. His touch is gentle, but strong, and his thumb rubs in a cautious motion against your skin, lightly grazing the underside of your breast. It feels weird, and wrong… intimate in a way that makes you shiver. “Please. Please, please… don’t-“
“It’s alright.” He shushes you, and the pressure increases against your body as Simon wedges a thick finger between your teeth, slipping the worn leather in your mouth, bracing around your wrist, his other hand holding your elbow. You gasp for air, adrenaline fueled by pain and fear coursing through you, and Johnny coos, telling you ye’ll be alright, that ye’re with them now, and they’ll take such good care of ye. 
“Take a deep breath.” Simon urges, and you stare at him, wide eyed, pulse thundering in your ears.
“Ye’ll probably pass out, bonnie. We’ll get the second one done while ye’re down, and I already gave ye somethin’ for the pain.” He assures, like it’s supposed to relieve you, and your nostrils flare as something tightens against your arm. Simon’s grip. 
This can’t be happening. This has to be a nightmare. How can this happen? No, nononono-
There’s a crack. A crunch. Burning, obliterating torture rockets up your arm, exploding inside you like a shot. You scream and bite down at the same time, raw misery trying to claw it’s way out of your throat. You think you’re crying, hallucinating from the pain, having a heart attack, fucking dying, all at once. It hurts, it hurts so bad, stop, please-
“We’re sorry, we’re sorry.” Simon soothes, thumb wiping your cheek, but you can hardly hear him, your brain starting to sever itself from reality, floating away as you slip inside the dark tomb of your mind, losing yourself to the fog as they both stare down at you, sickeningly saccharine concern layered overtop the faces of wolves, predators licking their maws in preparation for a meal.
You sleep and wake in a haze.
You sleep. Your dreams are torments, visions of being chased through the mountains by monsters, being pinned to the ground, teeth tearing into your throat with no preamble, or nightmares of drowning, being swallowed by the ocean, lungs sputtering with concrete laden sea water.
You wake. Your vision blurs, mind scrambled by pain, vaguely aware of being moved, carried to the bathroom, held upright over a toilet, gentle touch soothing up and down your back, heavy palm cupping curve of your skull when your head is tipped back and something is dribbled past your lips. You blink blearily with stone weighted lids, taking in the room bit by bit, the wrought iron bed frame, crackling flames sparking in a fireplace, mountain of pillows sagging with the imprint of your body. Your limbs are wrapped and unwrapped, immobilized, and shifted, and the pain is enough to make you gasp for air, tipping you over into the decaying depths of unconsciousness again and again.
You sleep. Restless, chilled. Ice spreads from the nerves in the tip of your nose to your brain, your fingers, and you try to burrow it deeper, seeking the comfort of the pillows, but finding warm skin and muscle instead. In your sleep, it’s lovely. It’s comforting. Even when you’re rolled to your side, something sticking under your tongue, you chase the heady thick heat that seems to roll off the limbs around you.
You wake. There are voices, deep and rumbling, bouncing through the room. Warm water dabbing down your neck, your belly, your legs. You’re too hot, uncomfortable and smothered until you hear a sharp pitched snarl accompanied by a yank, and then there’s a void of emptiness around you.
You sleep.
You wake. The pain starts to change, melting into something that’s consistent, throbbing, but a little less sharp, unless you move, and then it shrieks through your nerves like an electrical shock, vibrating your jaw shut.
You sleep.
You wake. They’re there. Simon is dabbing a cool washcloth across your forehead. You try to flex away on instinct, but firm hands stop you, holding you in place.
“Hey there, dove.” Johnny whispers, smiling. It’s a shy kind of smile, sweet, and the world spins. You grapple with reality, trying to remind yourself where you are, what happened. The fire snaps and pops behind Simon, who stands at his side, massive hand on his shoulder. “Made ye some breakfast. Think ye can eat somethin’?” Breakfast? A steaming bowl of oats sits cradled in his hand, spoon at the ready. Nausea roars, enflamed by the pain in your bones, and you shake your head. “Ye need to eat. Been givin’ ye soup for the past few days, but ye need more carbs.”
“I- I don’t understand.” You try to explain your confusion, hundreds of questions brewing on your tongue, trying to spill out.
“You’ve been in and out consciousness for the last week.” Simon explains, and your eyes widen.
“What?” Panic knots, twisting you up tight, heart fluttering in your chest.
“We had to sedate you. Needed to keep you still through the first part of the healing process.”
“You… you drugged me?” You stammer, and Simon smiles, but it’s not sweet like Johnny’s. It’s severe. It’s dangerous.
“Soft calluses form around fractures, after they’ve been set.” He sits down on the other side of the bed, across your hips from Johnny. “Your breaks aren’t in casts, so we needed to minimize your movement until the calluses could strengthen.”
“Ye willnae be able to walk on the leg, or lift anything with that arm, but we’ll help ye.” Johnny assures. “We’ll be here for ye, as ye get better.” The words don’t compute, and you look at both of their faces, sweeping back and forth, blue eyes to brown, brown to blue, until the only thing that you can think of blurts out of your mouth:
“Where’s my phone?” There’s a flash of discontent in Johnny’s features, but it’s quickly smoothed away, and you wonder if it even there in the first place.
“I imagine it’s somewhere near where your jeep rolled. We weren’t exactly concerned with finding it, considering we were trying to save your life.” Simon’s hands flex in the sheets, and then relax, serious look on his face, and guilt swamps you. Right. They saved your life. You could have died. And the pass is closed. Maybe this is all… as normal as it can be, given the situation. Calm down. 
Still… 
Didn’t Johnny kiss you? 
The spoon clinks against the bowl, jolting you back to the moment, eyeing the scoop of oats as it drifts closer to your mouth, lips parting on instinct.
The first bite is difficult, an insipid, unsavory lump sliding down into your stomach, toothy grin stretching across Johnny’s face as you swallow. The second bite is easier. So is the third, and you manage a few more after that until you start to feel wooly, head fuzzy and stomach sick. “I can’t.” You bleat, and he nods sympathetically.
“Alright, ye did good.” Sleep tugs, insistent again, strong surge of fog pulling at your eyes, and you yawn.
“Tired?” Simon’s already moving, hovering, patiently adjusting your pillows and lazily urging you into them. “You should rest.” You’re too weak, too miserable to argue, so you let yourself fade to black, easily falling back into the webbed slush of sleep.
You drift in and out for days after that. A bright spot of consciousness here and there before it dissipates and you fall into oblivion, and you find yourself embracing it as often as possible, trying to escape into yourself, away from wooden beams and potential predators that flank you.
You’re content to let it stay that way, hiding away behind closed lids for as long as possible, until the morning you feel the washcloth.
“Sh-sh-shhh.” Johnny hums when you garble out a distressed question, tipping a glass to your mouth. Cold liquid rushes across your tongue, and you have no choice but to swallow, confusion webbing across your thoughts. Simon has the blankets pulled away, chilled air nipping and your skin, and you moan. It’s strange, like you’re exposed, half floating like you’re high, and half spiraling through your pain.
“It’s okay, we’ve got you.” They’re repositioning you, arms and legs like a little doll, and you frown. “Jus’ need to get you clean.” Clean? The washcloth coasts across your neck and down to your chest, warm water soaking a trail down your breasts. You’re naked, fully, a hot palm against your hip, skin on skin contact registering as you blink fuzzily, watching the way Johnny focuses on you, concentration shining in his stunning blue eyes.
Water sloshes. Squeezing and dripping, and then the warm, nearly hot cloth is being pressed against you, stroking over your nipples, washing the underside of your breasts. It feels nice, and you whine a little when it pulls away. Simon chuckles.
“Do ye like that?” Johnny coos, reapplying the cloth to your belly. “Does that feel good?” Does it? Is it supposed to? Your vision doubles then realigns, and you stare at the underside of Simon’s jaw, mesmerized by the scar on his chin, the width of his neck. He readjusts you, again, slowly moving your knees apart, spreading your legs, and heat climbs through your bones to your cheeks.
You’re naked. They’re fully clothed. 
“We’re goin’ clean this up a bit.” Simon murmurs, a thick finger tracing along your slit, through the soft curls between your legs, and you balk. Clean what? How?
“My… my-“ you can’t even get the words out, too embarrassed, and he nods, sliver flash of a razor twinkling in his hand. The air in your chest sputters.
“Your hair.” Johnny works the washcloth back and forth, water dripping down your skin to the towel that’s been placed under your hips, you can only lay there in mortification when you feel yourself getting wet, tepid arousal roaring to life between your legs. “If you’re a good girl for us,” Simon continues, spraying a big glob of shaving cream into Johnny’s palm, “we’ll give you a treat afterwards. How’s that sound?”
“A treat?”  You squeak, and then whimper, Johnny’s fingers creeping down your slit, rubbing the cream across your pubis and labia, heel brushing against your clit. You make a noise of a protest, but it falls on deaf ears.
“Ye’re alright.” He coos, bumping against the swollen bud again, and you try to stop the moan that builds in your chest with no success, slamming your eyes shut and trying to disappear into the pillows. “It’s natural, dove. Ye dinnae need to feel embarrassed.” He leans forward, slotting his mouth against yours, lips soft and fragrant in a pillowy sweet kiss that lasts too long, his eyes blissfully closed in front of your almost crossed ones. 
“Please…” you whisper, but you’re not sure what you’re asking for, and Johnny coos at you, bending at the waist to get a better vantage point between your legs. You shake your head, eyes wide with disbelief, with fear, your mind trying to catch up, trying to rationalize what’s happening at the same time as your body is betraying you, slicking the cream that’s lathered between your thighs, clit pulsing with desperate need.
“I- I don’t want you to… shave me.” You whisper. You don’t want them to touch you… there, and the panic that’s pulsing between your ears continues to rise as your protests go unnoticed. Just saying it out loud makes you want to die of embarrassment, and Simon clucks.
“We have to take care of you, sweet girl.” Simon grips your thigh, fingers pressing into flesh, and the cool blade of the razor moves against the grain with a flick of his wrist, drawing back to a bucket for a rinse before a repeat, breath frozen in your chest as he slowly eliminates the curls of your pubic hair. “It will be easier to do that, to see what you need without all this.” He hums, the smile of a wolf coy on his face. “Stay nice and still for us.” They work in tandem, perfectly synchronized, and your unwanted arousal starts to overpower the pain that’s radiating from your broken bones. It’s been so, so long since you’ve been touched by anyone, and your body does not care that you didn’t want this, or agree to it, too eager to be satisfied, to be touched in anyway it can get, and it gets worse, more intense the longer it goes on, the precise movements of their hands, the slow and methodical approach to your cunt. “Almost done.” Simon tells you, and the side of his finger passes over your clit unintentionally, and you whine. “I know, I know. You’re bein’ so good. Such a good girl.” Your good hand is shaking, gripping the sheets, and when he finishes, Johnny wipes you down with a clean cloth, passing over your clit again and again, electric shocks sparking in your belly. You’re paralyzed, helpless, and yet… soaked. Desperate. The warring emotions tear at you, shame and fear and desire rendering you speechless.
“I think ye need some relief, dove.” Johnny hums, looking from your pussy to Simon, both of them tilting their heads to stare between your legs. “Poor thing is so swollen, Si.”
“Do you want to touch her, Johnny? Give her a reward?” Simon asks him, so sweetly, and Johnny shimmies down to be eye level with your pussy, tongue darting out to lick his lips.
Half of you screams no. Half of you shouts yes.
All you can do is watch, helplessly, as they settle themselves between your legs, Simon over Johnny’s shoulder, tempering his frenzied excitement with assured patience. 
“Will ye show me how?” He’s eager, and you frown, confused.
“Johnny’s never made a girl come before,” Simon tells you gently. “You’ll be his first.” Oh my god. “Will you help him? Tell him what feels good?” Your brain melts. You don’t know what to say, mouth half open, staring at the both of them, and after a few seconds, Simon sighs like he’s exasperated with you, before ducking back down next to Johnny and murmuring softly to him, probing along your cunt, finger dipping into your hole, swirling in the wetness gathered there and then moving up to your slit. You gasp, eyes nearly rolling back in your head.
“She likes that.” Johnny groans, breath blowing over your exposed flesh, and Simon takes his hand, thumb over thumb, guiding him in small circles around your clit.
 “Nice an’ slow at first, when you’re rubbin’ her clit. Feel how hard it is?” He instructs, pressing a kiss to the side of Johnny’s head, and he nods enthusiastically, looking up at Simon with wide, puppy dog eyes, sappy and saturated with love. It’s sweet, and affectionate, like they’re the only ones in the room, in the world… and you’re intruding on a private moment between these two men and your body. Like you’re a bystander. Or a doll. It’s confusing, your brain trying to sort everything that’s happening into neat little boxes that keep overflowing or falling apart, fracturing under the weight of your helplessness, the shock and fear that’s nearly made you dizzy. “See how her little hole is clenchin’ like that? It’s ‘cause she’s empty, needs to be filled up. When she comes, she’ll get real tight.” He explains, your body enflaming in mortified heat. They’re pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm, and Simon increases the speed as your hips jolt.
“Fuck.” You hiss.
“That’s it.” Simon coaches. “Are you close, sweet girl? Gonna come for us?” You shake your head, but even if you wanted to close your legs, you couldn’t. You’re trapped, lost in a sea of wild waves that break directly over your head, one after another until you’re drowning, gasping, muscles so tight they burn, pain in your arm and leg a secondary concern behind the pressure in your belly, the zap of your clit as they drag you too easily to the bottom, before sending you breaking through the surface.
You come with a distressed moan, hips jerking, and then a raspy plea for them to stop, telling them it’s too much, you’re too sensitive, to which Simon wraps his hand around Johnny’s wrist and pulls his hand away.
“We can’t overwhelm her just yet. Gotta wait until she’s healed up, hm?” He murmurs, reaching for the cloth. You blink at the ceiling, drifting, floating away, little boxes in your mind broken up into gnarled pieces that don’t make sense.
What just happened?
You stay silent, blank, as they settle you, cloth cleaning between your legs, blankets being fussed with around your body, pillows plumped. Simon curls some of your unruly hair behind your ear, swooping down until the breadth of his body blocks out all the light in the room, lips brushing over your ear. “What a good girl you are, dove. Did so well, letting Johnny give you an orgasm. So sweet for him.” He tucks you in a little tighter, and Johnny ducks around him, kissing you gently, like you’re made of glass, thrilled smile tugging at his cheeks, unfettered joy the last thing you see before your eyes slip shut.
The next time you wake, Johnny is in bed with you. It’s dark, a flickering orange glow casting shadow across the room, and you startle at the weight of his arm stretched across your chest, cradling you close, half curled around you like a cat. You turn, face to face, his mouth slightly agape, breath blowing over your cheek. You can’t get enough leverage on one leg to slide out from under him, and when you squirm, he only tightens his grip, pinning you to the bed. You’re overheated, and when you peek over his shoulder to get a look at the fire, you see Simon instead, sitting upright in a chair, fully awake, watching you. White hot fear shocks your system, forcing your eyes down in disbelief, surprise, his chair creaking in the night. Your breath stops in your chest, and then there’s a hand smoothing over your forehead, as he leans past you to brush his lips against Johnny’s, and then rough stubble presses against your cheek with a jagged whisper.
“Sweet dreams, little dove.”
1K notes · View notes
deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months
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— A GUIDEBOOK FOR SINNERS TURNED SAINTS
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SUMMARY : dean uses the sexiest seduction methods to get laid when he keeps getting cockblocked by his gaming girlfriend
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : none
WARNINGS/TAGS : smut, fluff, angst?, dean being cute, gamer girlfriend problems, unprotected sex (dean wears condoms in the show, you should too), oral sex (f. receiving), filth, dean being really horny, reader being really horny, cowboy dean = cowboy kink, squirting, slow and possibly over-descriptive?, two people being insane for each other? >:)
WORD COUNT : 8.8k
A/N : title from a jamie’s elsewhere album. this fills the square for “first one to make a noise loses” on my @jacklesversebingo card. 
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Today was a lazy day. In fact, the whole week was eventless in terms of monsters going out to eat people. Sam took the time to meet with Eileen, staying with her in a much nicer hotel than they were used to sleeping in. Dean and Y/n choose to stay in and enjoy having the Bunker all to themselves. 
For Dean, it meant eating junk food, sleeping in and sleeping late, binge watching shows and having movie marathons, checking up on the cars in the garage, cleaning everything but messing up Sam’s room. For Y/n that meant catching up on the latest season of her favourite video game, playing with and talking to random people to complete group missions and challenges, reading books she’s been meaning to finish, hanging out with Dean and doing whatever he wanted, trying new recipes, and reading the nerdiest articles just to know things.
It was the fourth day of their ‘vacation’, Y/n decided to play while Dean cooked as soon as she cleaned up the Bunker with him. Dean went to her room with a plate of food, the place where she once slept in became an activity room where she worked on her hobbies. Now having Dean’s room to sleep in, his drawers were filled with her socks, underwear, and bras. She wore his shirts as dresses instead of completely taking over his room, having to walk a short distance to get to her room where her clothes, trinkets, souvenirs, and more of her items remained.
“Hey, darlin’,” Dean smiled cutely at her.
“Hey, baby,” Y/n smiled up at him, turning her attention away from her game despite her screen turning red from the damage she was taking. “Oh, yummy,” she murmured, ogling him entering her room in just a pair of black boxers. He snorted at her. “Oh, yummy,” she repeated, this time eyeing the plate of waffles, whipped cream, and fruit--some of it cut into hearts. “Dean,” she giggled, accepting a slow kiss from him when he leaned down with puckered lips.
“What?” he murmured against her lips, smiling as he pulled away. “You died.” She turned away from him and shrugged when she saw the ‘revive’ button on her screen. 
“Thanks.” She smiled ignoring her game to admire him, kissing his cheek appreciatively. 
“For gettin’ you killed?” She laughed, raising a brow at him. 
“Getting shy about the heart-shaped fruits?” She asked, turning away from her computer by spinning her chair slightly to face him completely, and crossing her arms over her chest, staring at him dead in the eyes with a smirk. 
“Pff,” he sputtered, staring at the plate in his hands to avoid the cutely decorated plate in front of her and her teasing gaze, but an unmistakable blush brought colour to his ears and neck. She squinted her eyes at him when he turned back to her, her grin widening because she already knew he was bashful for having done something so cheesy. “Shuddup,” he said meekly, smiling with embarrassment.
“Uh-huh.” 
He turned away from her, avoiding her. She let him walk away, waiting for him to place his plate on her night stand before getting up to hug him from behind. “Hey,” she laughed, squeezing his waist with her arms.
“Leave me alone,” he laughed, wiggling in her arms until she let him go. 
She squeezed his ass playfully, and he stiffened, grabbing her hand--still laughing--and turned to face her. She was faster than him, tugging her arm towards herself so he’d stumble towards her, like a dance, she moved in a circle so his back faced the bed. “Hey!” He protested playfully, the breath getting knocked out of him from surprise when he fell into her bouncy bed. 
“Why’d you take off your clothes?” She asked, climbing up on top of him before he could even think about sitting up. His stomach clenched delightfully at the sight of her on top of him, holding his wrists above his head with her small hands. He bit his lip when her bare thighs brushed against the skin of his waist, his cock stirring in the soft cotton of his boxer briefs.
“I… Uh, it was hot in the kitchen,” he lied, his voice deeper than before, coated in desire. She tilted her head, a knowing smirk stretching across her lips.
“Because the kitchen started to heat up from your cooking? Or because you’ve got the nastiest, sluttiest imagination?” She murmured, leaning forward, brushing her lips against his. 
“Uh,” he paused, closing his eyes, waiting for a kiss that never came. He opened his eyes to look at what she was doing, flushing with embarrassment when she giggled at him. She released his wrists, resting her hands flat on his chest so she wouldn’t fall on top of him from her laughing fit. He grumbled friskily, large hands grasping her soft thighs to flip her over onto her back. She squealed, clinging to him as best as she could while laughing hard.
“Whoa,” she chuckled, wiping tears from her eyes. 
He was busy nibbling her ear, one of his hands pressing against the small of her back as she arched into him, their hips slotting together perfectly for her to feel how hard he was with only the flimsy material of their underwear. He held himself above her with one of his arms resting beside her head, tangling her hair in his fingers. She squirmed at the sensation of his hot breath against her neck and his teeth gently tickling her earlobe, both sensations distracting her from everything around her, including her game that had now kicked her off the map for inactivity. 
“Dean,” she whispered quietly, loosening her grip on the sheets to tease the waistband of his boxer briefs. 
He began to kiss her jaw instead, brushing his lips teasingly, slowly down her throat until she moved her head to the side to give him more access to her neck, to let him lick gently at the sensitive flesh behind her ear. He breathed her in, the softness of her perfume and the sweetness of her shampoo making him dizzy and weak. 
She rolled her hips up against his, encouraging him, her pussy tingling with lust, aching to be touched by him. An exhale shakily slipped past her parted lips. She could easily feel how hard he was through the thin layer of clothes between them, warmth spreading across her skin, her heart thumping loudly, the blood rushing through her body increasing the pleasure he was making her feel. 
She continued to move her hips against his, legs parted needily, her grip on his hips keeping her movements hard and steady. He grunted her name against her skin, the feeling of her rubbing herself against him making him needier. He moved his hand from her back to her hip, squeezing roughly. He could feel her sneaky hands slowly lowering his underwear, but he continued to lick at her skin, teeth sinking into her soft flesh, mouth suctioning hard until marks adorned her smooth skin. 
“You’re so soft, baby,” he murmured, moving away from her neck to venture down her body, lifting the black shirt up her body. “So warm,” he whispered, kissing the flesh above the waistband of her underwear. “I need you so bad,” he mumbled against her stomach.
“Then fuck me, Dean,” she replied breathily. 
He chuckled, trailing open mouthed kisses up her torso, biting and sucking to embellish her skin with possessive marks. He lifted the shirt higher, revealed the soft flesh of her breasts and her hardened nipples. She shivered, her skin prickling from the contrast of his warm breath and the cool air in the room.
“How bad do you want it, baby?” He asked with a smug smile, but he interrupted her by sucking her nipple into his mouth when she was going to speak; instead a strangled moan replaced her words. He grabbed her other breast in his large hand, squeezing it slowly, teasing the sensitive skin of her nipple with his thumb.
“Please,” she moaned, arching her back and slipping her fingers through his soft hair. He only moaned in response, swiping his tongue over her nipple, teeth scraping her flesh, almost painfully pinching her nipple in hopes that it would make her pull his hair. “Fuck, baby, I love your mouth,” she praised, tugging at his hair to bring him up for a kiss. 
“Want it?” He asked with a grin, blowing air over her saliva-coated nipple. “Want it on yours?” He teased, kissing his way across to her other breast, giving it the same attention as the other. “Or do you want me to keep it here?” He murmured, circling her nipple with the tip of his tongue, then sucked on it gently. With both of her hands on him, she pulled the hair at the top of his head and dug her fingernails into his bicep, whining. “Want it somewhere else?” He asked, sliding both of his hands down her sides until he was holding her impatient hips still against the bed. His pinkies moved underneath her panties. “Like right here?” 
“Fuck, yes,” she whispered. 
A loud blaring alarm from Y/n’s phone interrupted him from pulling her underwear off. He looked back at the source with a scowl, but otherwise began to tug her underwear down. She slowly sat up anyway, confused by the alarm she had no memory of setting. Dean ignored the alarm, slapping her thigh so she’d part her legs again and lay down, but she was deep in thought, attempting to remember the reason she’d set the alarm, her face pinched in concentration. 
“Oh… shit,” she scrambled up off the bed suddenly, lifting her underwear back in place. Just like that, the need for him to take her dissipated. His mouth fell open in disbelief, perceiving her sudden regained interest in returning to her game.  
“Babe,” he scoffed, “seriously?” She looked back at him, immediately apologetic. 
“I’m… sorry, D,” she chuckled, “I forgot I’d promised to help with this raid. Raincheck?” She bit her lip, shaking her leg even as she stood. 
“How ‘bout you put a raincheck on that and come back to bed with me?” He suggested, but there wasn’t much confidence in his voice or his words.
“Dean,” she started, turning away from him to set up her mic and headset. He groaned, falling back into the bed. “Eat your breakfast and I swear I’ll make it up to you,” she offered, still with her back facing him. He sat up and glared at her, then smiled innocently when she turned back to raise a brow at his silence. “Don’t look at me like that!” She pouted, his lips parted and he was ready to argue. “Don’t lie to me! I know you,” she cut him off, turning away and sitting back in her seat with an exaggerated huff.
“Cockblock,” he murmured, playfully.
“Shut up,” she retorted, smiling. 
Dean groaned, long and childish, before doing as she told him to do. He peeked over her chair to watch her play and grumbled begrudging words under his breath when she laughed at something one of her teammates said. He whined loudly again and she turned back just to raise a brow at him.
“I’m gonna make you pay,” he mouthed to her. She squinted her eyes and shook her head, turning her attention back on the game. Dean opened the laptop on the bed and dug into his food halfheartedly, looking for something to watch with no interest in actually finding something.
Occasionally, Dean would glance up from his plate to see that Y/n’s character was standing still behind a building while she ate, then she’d stop eating to move her character or to shoot at someone that was about to kill her. He wondered how long it would take for her to get the raid done, hell, he even considered learning how to play just to be with her. 
Dean waited for half an hour before shutting his laptop and placing it on the nightstand. He stared boredly as Y/n planned out the next encounter and what each person had to do to succeed. He sighed and took his plate, checking Y/n’s desk for hers, which was also empty. Dean pressed a kiss to the top of her head before making his way out of her room.
Dean busied himself with washing the dishes, making sure to do it slowly, but it only gave his mind the chance to go to the gutter. 
He remembered a few times when he’d licked whipped cream off her naked body, or when she’d licked honey off his. It was like his mind was working against him, forcing him to relive the way she tasted, the way she felt so soft beneath him, how hot she looked when she rode him, all of their trysts swam around his head, even the daring things they’d done suddenly came to the front of his mind.
Like that time Sam went on a hunt with Eileen and Dean had decided to walk around naked for the whole week. The amount of times he fucked Y/n was legendary, especially the locations they chose. Including right where he was currently washing the dishes. It was the first day he’d decided to go nude, she was washing the dishes from the previous night and he snuck up behind her with his face buried in her neck.
She’d reached behind to playfully smack his ass the way she always did, but was stunned by the feeling of skin. She’d laughed for while and he joked back before grasping her hips, tugging her pink underwear down her legs to stop at her knees, and fucking her. It was domestic, that turned him on the most, remembering her with her hair messy morning hair--sex-hair, really, because they’d fucked the previous night. She was just in his flannel and she looked hot, the way she always did, beautiful. He vividly remembers the way his cum had dripped down her thighs when he pulled out of her.  
He moaned softly at the memory, the sound coming out almost whiny. 
What was that sex they had the previous night? Well, it was the reason she was washing dishes that morning. He’d gotten up in the middle of the night to snack on something because he got hungry and as he cleaned up, using only a small lamp to see the kitchen, she’d snuck up on him. 
He got scared, when she stood still at the entrance of the kitchen just in his robe. Then he laughed when she moved and came into the light, and just like the next morning, she joked back, then he lifted her up on the metal counter, opening the robe to see her wearing nothing, and he fucked her while staring deeply into her sleepy eyes as she clung to him. His robe caught all the cum that spilled out of her and she put it in the washing machine, despite his protests. 
He licked his lips at these memories, feeling uncomfortably hot, with his cock hard again. 
Sam always scolded Dean for his seemingly high libido, and Dean usually brushed it off because he didn’t always get laid. When they went on hunts, it was hard to find someone willing to have sex with no strings attached. Even before Y/n, it was just an occasional thing, when he saved the girl--if the occasion happened to arise, which it rarely did because he had to be safe about who he was taking to bed.
It was all very complicated. Sex and hunting. 
It wasn’t complicated now. 
Dean had what he liked to call ‘a healthy appetite for his woman’. It made Y/n laugh, but Sam would grimace, and Cas would squint his eyes and tilt his head in confusion. 
Finding the Bunker only intensified his ‘appetite’. And being alone with her in the Bunker made his appetite more intense, all-consuming.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, finishing up with the dishes a little faster. He wanted to find something to do that would take his mind off things. He made a list in his head of things he could do: clean the inside of the Impala, change the oil, shower or take a bath, organise his room.
All that sounded boring enough to him, distracting enough to at least get rid of the raging boner he was sporting. He felt like a teenager again. He shook his head, drying his wet hands with a towel, double checking that the dishes were dry and clean. He grabbed the towel, letting a bit of water trickle over it to dampen it, before walking to his room.
He organised the dozens of papers he had strewn across his desk, fixed the photo of him with his mom, and cleaned away the dust trapped in the crooks and crannies with a partially wet towel he brought from the kitchen. He organised the contents inside the draws, placing the phones neatly in the back, making sure everything was in its own spot so it was evenly levelled. 
He went around his room, cleaning the wooden surfaces, organising papers and books into their correct spots. For some reason, Y/n was looking at his porn last night, she mostly giggled while flipping through the magazines. She left that on the green couch.
They’d christened that, too, when he first dragged it to his room. It was pretty small, but perfect for when she was on top and he had his face buried in her chest, leaving her skin warm and damp with his breath, moaning as she bounced on his lap. He should’ve known better than to expect cleaning his room to get his mind off sex.
He picked up the flannel he’d left on the chairs and over the couch, smelling them to check if they needed to be washed. He smiled when he picked up her scent instead of his in the warm cotton of his clothes. He put some of their coats on the little hooks on the wall, checking that they were clear of stains and adding them to the pile of dirty clothes that was growing on the floor by his bed. 
He checked every drawer for unnecessary items, like old candy wrappers and receipts, only throwing out the ones that weren’t associated with some good memories. Then, he fixed the contents that did belong there. 
He checked under the tables, the chairs, the couch, and his bed for lost items. He found some of Y/n’s underwear and some boring black socks. He unfortunately came across the two large boxes, one filled with sex toys and the other filled with pornographic photos of him and Y/n. He was so tempted to look through them, but resisted and decided to throw out the mouldy burger he kept in his room.
He cleaned out the cupboard over the sink in his room, throwing out expired medication.
He had so much stuff in his room, but he got it all cleaned up and organised eventually. 
He grabbed the dirty clothes off the floor and walked to where the washing machine and dryer were, shoving the matching clothes together into the washer and separating everything into piles along the floor. As it washed, he went to the garage to clean up his Baby and change the oil.
He went back and forth, between taking the clothes in and out of the washer, in and out of the dryer, and then to the garage until the Impala was completely clean inside, the weaponry was organised in the trunk, and the changed the oil, which got him a bit dirty. But it was his plan to shower or bathe eventually before heading back to check if Y/n had finished the raid yet.
He knew Baby would lead to some lewd memories, too. Old memories of when they had to make do in his car because they were impatient, but mostly to avoid Sam’s disgust in the times before they found the Bunker. All three of them had to share and it was a hassle having to be quick when Sam went out, while they showered, or when Sam finally fell asleep, having to be quiet. It was hard for Dean to be quiet.
Dean glared down at his erection for appearing again and cleaned up the mess he left behind to finally get cleaned. A cold shower was overdue to shock his body and to get his brain to focus on something else, literally, anything else besides how badly he wanted to sink into his girlfriend’s warmth, with her smooth legs wrapped around his waist, listening to the glorious sounds she makes, and watching how utterly enraptured she looks.
He groaned with annoyance and quickly washed his hands when he got to his room to get some clean clothes without staining it. He was about to walk out, but stopped at the door, considering one method of seduction that he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist. 
He grinned and searched his room for the cowboy get-up she loved for him to wear--especially when they roleplayed. It was bound to make her forget all about that game she was so obsessed with. He chuckled and immediately wasted no time to get to the shower, cleaning and scrubbing off grease from his hands and chest, washing his hair and imagining what technique he’d use once he entered her room.
He dried himself off quickly once he stepped out of the shower, messily moving the towel over his hair until it was sticking up in all directions, almost completely dry. He changed first, very neatly flattened the white dress shirt over his chest, tucking it into his black slacks, neatly arranging the bolo tie, and stepping into some cowboy boots. He styled his hair neatly now that it was drier, using gel to hold some of it in place, and finally--dorkily, he grabbed the beige cowboy hat and placed it gently on his head.
He checked the time on his watch, amazed to see just how much time it took for him to get everything cleaned up properly. 
He hoped going back to his room to brush his teeth would give her enough time to finish up the raid. He was just stalling. He had no idea why he was getting nervous all of the sudden. They’d done things like this a thousand times before, sometimes he’d do it shamelessly—with people around.
He started to second-guess everything once he got to the hallway leading up to her room. He stopped a few feet away from her door with his hands on his hips, he mumbled reassurances to himself. His heart excitedly thudded in his chest and he was already feeling a blush crawl up his face, burning his ears and neck. 
He steeled himself, trying to be casual as he got closer and closer, letting out a heavy, shaky breath that puffed up his pink cheeks. He stepped into the room as if a gust of cold wind would greet him, but she was still focused on the game, the headset was abandoned on her desk, and she was in the strangest position ever. 
She was lazily slouched in her seat, but looked amused as her fingers expertly moved across the keyboard, her wrist snapping sharply over the mouse to aim perfectly at her target. Had he not been impatient and irritatingly aroused, Dean would praise her skills and maybe stare for a bit longer because it was really hot. 
“Wh…” She paused, when she saw him in her peripheral vision, now dressed, but not in the usual flannel and jeans. “What’s… up?” She asked slowly, bewildered, once she turned her head to get a good look at him.
“Nothin’,” Dean replied quickly, shrugging nonchalantly and stepping closer to her. She smiled deviously and his stomach flipped watching her lean back in the chair, completely abandoning her game. 
“Nothin’?” She repeated with a chuckle, “then why are you dressed up?” She blinked up at him expectantly, even turned her whole chair in his direction, rolling forward until she was half a foot away from him.
“Uh, I’m bored,” he shrugged again, then reached behind his neck to rub it. 
“Uh-huh,” she smirked, eyeing him from head to toe. His blush deepened, his confidence faltering when she bit her lip libidinously at the sight of him. 
“So, it’s got nothin’ to do with this?” She asked, but before he could ask her what she was talking about, she hooked her fingers into his belt loops and tugged him forward. He swallowed to bring moisture back into his dry throat, staring into her eyes, captivated by her boldness when she brushed two of her fingers down the seam of his zipper where his cock was straining against. 
“Fuck,” he rasped, breath hitching, staring into her eyes while she continued to tease him. She smirked at the stuttered breaths he took. She could clearly feel how hard he was beneath her small hand, making her pussy clench around nothing. Wetness began to dampen her underwear when his breaths came out heavy and aroused, her name slipping from his lips breathlessly. She cupped him in her hand, gently and apologetically squeezing him through the soft material of his black slacks. “Please, baby,” he begged breathily, closing his eyes. He bit his lip, felt his face and entire body flare up with desire to be fucked. 
“I gotta finish this first,” she laughed playfully. His eyes snapped open and he whined, a sound that bubbled up his throat involuntarily, but it sounded so hot, Y/n nearly considered abandoning her game--mid-mission. Instead, she cleared her throat and squeezed her thighs together to stop the pulsing of her clit, giving his ass a proper smack that made him jerk forward slightly, knees hitting her chair.
“You’ve been playin’ for hours,” he whined. 
She automatically smirked when he pouted, his bottom lip swollen from having been bitten by his sharp teeth. She was about to argue that she hadn’t as she checked her phone for the time, but was shocked to see it had already been four hours since she’d started playing. Somehow, it felt like she barely got anything done in the game. 
Interrupting her thoughts and excuses, he leaned forward with his hand flat on her desk to hover over her. Her head snapped back in his direction and she swallowed at his proximity, her eyes immediately drawn to his pillowy pink lips, her legs practically spreading apart involuntarily when he teased the inside of her warm, bare thigh with his knuckles. 
She straightened up in her seat, tightly holding the arm rests of her gaming chair when he cupped her pussy the same way she had cupped him just seconds before.
“Fuck me,” he whispered enticingly, sliding his fingers up her covered pussy, teasingly pressing his fingers into her soaked entrance and her throbbing clit. She clenched her thighs together, stopping him from repeating that manoeuvre, but he still managed to brush one of his fingers over her clit repeatedly. 
“Later,” she moaned, grasping his wrist and tugging it out from between her legs. 
“But you’re so wet,” he complained, dropping down to his knees between her legs. She squirmed in her seat, blushing with lust, letting him grab the back of her knees to place her legs over his shoulders. He gripped her hips and moved her forward until her cunt was right in front of his face and he kissed her pelvis, then quickly licked her clit over her underwear. 
“Oh… shit,” she whispered, feeling a new wave of wetness that left her more soaked than she was seconds before. He hooked his forefinger under her underwear, pulling upwards to tease her clit with the soft fabric. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, missing the triumphant sparkle in his eyes.
“Please,” he whispered, loving the way she pulled him forward with her calves against his back, her toes curling in the teal and yellow giraffe socks he got for her two weeks ago. “Is that a ‘yes’?” He asked smugly when she brought her hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, his breath fanning over her soaked underwear, his mouth salivating at the sight of her wetness darkening the cotton. 
“Yes, Dean,” she laughed softly.
He hummed softly, moving her underwear to the side to flick her clit teasingly with the tip of his tongue. Holding her underwear to the side with his thumb, he looked up at her through his thick lashes as he started to go down on her, catching her clouded gaze. 
She played with the short hairs at the back of his head, biting her lip in amusement.
“What?” He asked, leaning forward to flatten his tongue over her clit, coating it in his saliva. She waited for a while, appreciating the sight of his pretty face shoved between her legs and the way he licked at her clit.
“I love you,” she murmured. He hummed softly in response, gently sucking on her clit, circling an arm around her hips when she arched her back and moaned. 
“I know,” he teased, pulling away momentarily to lap at her dripping entrance. “You love my mouth,” he quipped, his tongue pushing through the spasming walls of her pussy. He pushed his face completely against her cunt, his nose teasing her clit, moaning softly when she squeezed his tongue once it slipped as deep as he could push it inside her. 
“That too,” she agreed with laughter in her otherwise breathless voice. She tipped the hat on his head back slightly, exposing him to her again. “Among other things,” she added quietly. Another hum moved through her and her thighs twitched in response to the vibrations it created on her pussy. 
He closed his eyes, wiggling his tongue inside her before pulling out and tracing her labia, leaving traces of his saliva behind. He left open mouthed kisses on her sex, his eyes fluttering open attractively, gazing up at her to see how she was doing.
“G.... Dean…” she gasped, longing for more, “please.” 
“You made me wait,” he countered, leaning back to pull her legs off his shoulders. 
“What? Are you mad?” She teased with a stunned laugh as he grabbed the seam of her socks to slide them off her feet. He gave her a deadpan look in response, but tugged her underwear off nonetheless. 
“No,” he replied eventually, dangling her ruined underwear in front of her. “I’ve got my face buried in this sweet pussy of yours,” he smirked. Her stomach clenched with desire and her breath got caught in her chest the way the words sounded so hot coming out of his mouth. She snatched her underwear away from him, blushing, and threw them across the room. 
He ignored it, eyes fixed between her legs. 
“Look at how wet you are for me, darlin’, practically dripping,” he chuckled deeply, slapping her clit with three fingers. 
She jolted in surprise, “fuck.” 
“I’ve got other stuff in mind,” he dismissed, standing up to twirl her chair slightly, so the back of it hit her desk, stopping it from moving around too much. He grabbed the hem of the shirt she was wearing and tugged it upwards, letting her take it off the rest of the way, just for her to throw it behind her. It ended up draped over her monitor. 
“Like what?” She asked curiously, eyes glued on him as he walked towards the bed to grab the pillow to place it in front of her. He dropped down on it, shifting on his knees to test the way it felt beneath him. She regained his attention by tapping his nose with her forefinger. He scrunched it up adorably, took her hand in his and gave her fingertips a little kiss. She smiled down at him and watched him stand on his knees, leaning forward with two fingers under her chin. 
“Have I fucked you in this chair?” He wondered out loud, pecking her lips as she replied with a ‘no’. She smiled, closing her eyes, holding onto the lapels of his black suit to steady herself. His nose brushed against hers, teasing her lips with his soft breath. “Have I fingered you in it? Or eaten you out?” He kissed her in between each question, dropping his hand from her chin to knead her thighs. 
“No,” she whispered, her body tingling pleasantly, vibrating with longing. 
He hummed softly, easily pushing his tongue past her lips, and lifted her thighs to position them over the armrests of her chair. She moaned softly, tasting the fresh mint of toothpaste on his tongue. She slid her hands up his chest, into his soft hair to carefully tug at the short strands without disturbing the hat at the top of his head. She tilted her head to deepen the kiss, vaguely aware of his fingertips brushing along the inside of her thigh.
He quickly popped his thumb into his mouth, covering it in spit before pressing his fingers against her skin as he reached to find her clit between her damp folds with his thumb. Her stomach twisted, aching for more, but she accepted what he gave her, relishing in the gentle touches to her cunt, in the way he kissed her breath away, slowly sucking her tongue, and heatedly licking into her mouth. 
His wet thumb moved over her clit, rubbing up and down languidly, then in circles while her walls squeezed around nothing. She moaned into his mouth needily, withdrawing her tongue from within his mouth to suck and bite at his plump, bottom lip. He smiled and circled two fingers around her entrance, gathering the wetness that made her folds glisten. 
“Holy--” she gasped suddenly, pulling away from his mouth when he subsequently pushed a finger into her. He used one of his arms to push her thigh against the armrest, keeping her fairly still. 
“There ain’t nothin’ holy ‘bout what I wanna do to you, sweetheart,” he murmured, dropping wet kisses over her chest. He smirked against her cleavage when her pussy squeezed his finger in return, so he pushed another one into her. Slowly, he stretched her open, the burn of his thick fingers, the way he pushed them deeper and deeper until his knuckles stopped him turned her on more and more. 
He stopped kissing her breasts, licking his lips when he gave her a quick glance from under the rim of his cowboy hat. He tipped his chin downward to watch her stretch around his fingers, his cock now painfully hard. When he brought his fingers out slightly, they reappeared drenched in her arousal, making it easier for him to scissor them back into her. He bit his lip roughly, listening only to her broken breaths, faintly aware of her rigid grip on his forearms.
She squirmed restlessly in the chair, her clit aching for attention. 
He curled his fingers inside her, pressing into her and stroking her inner walls so she could feel the sparks of her impending orgasm. He shifted his arm against her thigh to hold her hip in a rather harsh squeeze that she found more pleasurable than uncomfortable. 
“Touch your tits, babe,” he instructed, leaning forward so the edge of his cowboy hat teased her skin, depositing little kisses down her stomach to take her clit between his lips once again. She cried out softly, hands cupping her breasts, on her way to pinch her nipples and roll them between her fingers. Her hips bucked against Dean’s strong hold so he gave her the freedom to move as much as she wanted.
He licked ravenously at her clit, drawing circles on and around it, and simultaneously, he pushed a third finger into her. He let her roll her hips up, following her lead as he sucked and expertly caressed her clit with his tongue. 
“Dean,” she mewled. He grinned against her pussy, moaning in acknowledgment, speeding up the thrust of his fingers, delighting in the obscene squelch of her cunt each time he pushed them into her. 
Her back arched further and her head fell back against the chair as her orgasm approached. He continued sucking her clit earnestly, his nose pressed against her silky skin, grunting the instant her pussy throbbed around all three of his fingers. He moved his arm to wrap around her hips, pressing her closer to his mouth, covetously squeezing her flesh to enhance the pleasure she felt from her orgasm. 
“Oh… fuck… yes,” she gasped, pushing her hips closer to his drooling mouth, teetering on the edge of never ending pleasure. One of her hands released her breast to press against the back of his neck, holding his face impossibly close to her pussy. Her free thigh found its way back over his shoulder as powerful pulses of pleasure made her body shake and shudder. 
“Dean,” she praised passionately, followed by a few, more desperate whispers of his name and drawn-out curse words that ended only when she was coming down her high. 
Dean carefully pulled his fingers out of her, abandoning her sensitive clit to look up at her whilst she caught her breath, her heartbeat slowing down. He licked his swollen, wet lips, smiling at the sight of her glowing and blissed out semblance. 
He murmured her name and kissed her across her hips, massaging the thigh she had placed over his shoulder. He splayed his hand across her back and kissed his way back down to lick her clean, murmuring adorations against her skin. She hummed fondly, eyes slowly fluttering open to gaze at her lover.
“Are you gonna remember how I made you cum in this chair?” He jested quietly, then rubbed his fingers together, playing with her cum. He popped his fingers into his watering mouth, pretty, green eyes now staring up into hers. 
She laughed and nodded, biting her lip. 
“Awesome,” he grinned, standing up weakly to stretch. 
She straightened up in her chair, beholding him and all the effort he put into seducing her. She nibbled on her lip, letting him stretch and relax before getting up and practically jumping him.
“You’re awesome,” she murmured, bringing him down for a passionate kiss. He moaned in surprise, brows rising before he relaxed into the rapturous kiss. Her nimble fingers worked on quickly unbuttoning his shirt, moving forward with him so he got closer to the bed. 
She pulled away, tongue sliding along her wet lip to watch him sit down and work on getting the belt off. She climbed into his lap, nibbling on his jaw, moving his hands away to finish unbuckling his belt herself, rolling her hips against his throbbing erection before he could get his hands on her.
“Fuck, babe,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around her so tight she couldn’t even move. “Lets play a game,” he suggested suddenly, releasing her when she pulled back and tilted her head at him, perplexed. “First one to make a noise loses.”
“Loses?”
“The right to cum,” he added.
“When you’re this hard?” She asked, making her point by grinding her hips roughly against his. He groaned out a laugh, deep and hot. 
“I’m not the one who’s ovulating,” he pointed out matter-of-factly. She gasped dramatically, crossing her arms over her chest. He held her hips securely to keep her balanced on his lap as she bantered with him, a grin on his face.
“Rude,” she accused playfully, “how dare you use that against me?” She giggled, then wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down and over to the side so he laid on top of her. He let her manoeuvre him and chuckled. “You’re gonna keep this on, right?” She asked, lightly flicking the beige hat on his head so it moved slightly, but didn’t come off.
“If you really want me to.” He kissed her cheek tenderly.
“I dunno,” she pondered, “I kinda like you naked, too.” 
“Kinda?” He pouted, biting her jaw.
She took the hat on his head and threw it over to her chair, “I really like it when you’re naked, too,” she corrected herself with a loving smile, eyes sparkling. 
“I like it when you’re naked,” he murmured, rocking his hips against hers. She bit her lip hard, trapping a gasp. “We were right about here earlier, weren’t we?” He asked seductively, dropping a quick kiss on her lips. 
The smirk stretching across his face gave away that he knew what he was doing to her. She only nodded in response, focusing on shoving the suit jacket and white dress shirt over his shoulders at the same time. He chuckled at her urgency, standing on his knees between her parted legs to shrug them off calmly. 
She narrowed her eyes at him, shimmying down to begin unbuttoning his pants, zipping them down with one hand and pulling the belt out of the loops with the other before he even got the either article off his arms. 
“Baby,” he laughed, grabbing her thighs and pulling them above his, “slow down.” 
She frowned playfully, “I don’t wanna slow down.” She put her hands on his hips and under his shirt, thumbs tantalisingly brushing against the warm skin of his hip bones. 
“Oh, so, now you want me really bad,” he teased, voice heavy with lust. He leaned back slightly to take her in with her legs spread open over his thighs, soft hair haloing her head, a blush glowing across her cheeks. As he admired her silently, she bit her lip at the way his t-shirt stretched across his chest and broad shoulders.
“I always want you really bad,” she rebutted lustfully, slowly lifting the white t-shirt up his torso. 
“Don’t worry, beautiful, Imma fill you up real good,” he promised in a hushed voice, pulling the shirt over his head, then getting off the bed to pull his slacks and boxer briefs down his legs. “Don’t forget… you can’t make a sound,” he reminded her, crawling back up her body.
“As long as you play fair….” She murmured, bringing him down for a kiss with a hand behind his head. Fingers threaded through his hair and he laughed deeply, dipping down to kiss her. 
“I never play fair,” he mumbled against her mouth. 
Before she could react, he bit her lip and shoved his tongue into her mouth, licking and sucking fervently, hoping to draw sounds from her that would make her lose the game he proposed before he even got started. 
She squirmed underneath him, a whimper of pleasure bubbling up her throat, but poking his ribs made him pull away from her swiftly, “asshole!” 
He laughed breathlessly, leaning on his side, still laying between her legs with his cock leaking and hard against her tummy. He held himself up with his arm resting beside her head and brought his freehand to her face, brushing soft strands away from her grumpy face. 
“I had to try,” he chuckled, tracing the side of her face. 
“I should.. just… get up and walk away,” she threatened playfully, putting a finger on his lips when he tried to dip down to kiss her again. 
“Hey, come on, babe,” he whined. 
She laughed at him, “just fuck me, pretty boy.” 
He pretended to consider her words, slowly sliding the two fingers on her jaw down to her neck, between her breasts, and along her stomach. Her heart jumped and she clenched her jaw while she watched his eyes follow the path of his fingers moving over her body. “I can do that,” he smirked, captivating her in his alluring gaze. 
She grabbed his chin, angling his face towards the light of the lamp, her eyes soft and tracing over the beautiful features of his face, from the gorgeous curl of his golden eyelashes, to the now-pink background where his freckles were splattered along artfully across his nose and cheeks, to the edges of his utterly breathtaking face. His brows pinched together curiously and his swollen, soft, pink lips parted momentarily before closing, his green eyes shyly shifting away from her face. 
“Not like this, though,” he murmured, breaking her trance. She hummed mindlessly, eyes flickering up to his, his words confounding her. 
He looked at her again and then grinned mischievously, standing up just to manhandle her until she was laying on her stomach. She laughed and squirmed, looking at him from over her shoulder, but just as she was about to get on all fours, he pressed his large hand to the small of back, keeping her in place.
“Wait,” she said quickly, eyes widening in realisation when he started to angle himself between her legs. “No! You cheater,” she laughed. He snickered playfully, gripping her thigh and sliding it up to the side with her knee bent to have more access. 
“I aim to please,” he jested, taking his cock and teasing her dripping entrance with the soft head. 
“Yeah, yourself,” she quipped. He snorted, observing the smear of his precum over her clit and inner labia. She didn’t move away or stop him, so he continued to tease her, sliding his cock down to tap her throbbing clit, but she bit down on her lip painfully, sounds straining to escape her throat. 
She screwed her eyes shut as if it would help her concentrate on anything other than the way he teased her and gripped the sheets beneath her hands tightly. After gathering enough of her slick, he started to jerk himself off, coating his throbbing cock—and subsequently his hand—in her arousal. 
He panted heavily and draped himself over her back, depositing loving kisses along her shoulders and neck. Still, nothing could prepare her for the way he thrusted into her. She was so wet, he didn’t even meet any resistance, and he could feel every inch of his cock stroke along the inside of her tightening walls, deeply penetrating her. 
“Jesus Christ,” she moaned involuntarily. 
“Uh, no, it’s Dean, actually,” he chuckled, then slowly started to pull out of her, and paused. “By the way, I, uhhh, think you just lost.” He thrusted back into her roughly and she moaned again, cutting off her sentence before it even began, but he knew it was probably gonna be ‘fuck you’ or something else along those lines. 
He muffled a deep groan against her shoulder and roughly grabbed her hip to keep her still as she squirmed and whined for more. Blunt nails dug into her flesh and she whimpered with each thrust, toes curling every time the soft head of his cock brushed and pressed against her cervix.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, nuzzling his face into her neck. Her stomach clenched at his words, his low groan causing a flutter to grow in her lower abdomen, all the while her heart skipped a beat and her breath swirled around her chest ecstatically when his lips brushed softly against her pulse. 
“Please,” she whimpered, reaching down to place her hand over the one he had on her hip, holding on tightly. He angled her hips up slightly, picking up the pace, his teeth sinking roughly into the skin between her shoulder and neck. 
He grunted softly, skilfully pulling out so only the head of his cock remained inside her and pushing back into her swiftly, over and over. He fucked into her with enough force to knock the wooden headboard into the concrete walls, hard enough to create an erotic symphony with the sound of her soppy pussy taking him and her skin being impacted by his.
His throbbing cock brushed continuously along the inside of her walls and collided deliciously with her cervix, pulling quiet gasps and low moans from her. Neither of them could stand it. The way she felt wrapped around every inch of him made him so dizzy, he felt like exploding. His muscles ached and burned with effort and he couldn’t stop vocalising his pleasure right into her ear or against her damp skin.
He could feel his orgasm bubbling over and he inhaled sharply to keep it at bay just to keep enjoying the sensation of her body being this close to his, to remain in between the moment of overwhelming pleasure and exquisite torture forever. 
Still, he couldn’t resist the temptation of letting go and spilled into her with a long groan of her name. He deliriously praised and worshipped her as he pressed deeper, the warmth of his semen filling her insides. 
Her walls clamped down on him, her own orgasm looming over her, but even this mindlessly blissed out, she denied herself pleasure for the sake of their game. The heat of his cum resting inside her made her moan, a sensation she began to enjoy since they became ‘serious’. 
He had stilled temporarily, waiting to empty himself into her as profoundly as their bodies permitted before slowly rocking his hips into her again. Once again, he venerated her quietly before pulling out and collapsing breathlessly beside her, his rapidly beating heart returning to its original rhythm.
He gave her ass a playful smack and smiled lazily when she giggled. “You didn’t come,” he murmured, watching dreamily as she turned to face him, and scooted into his side to drop kisses along his collarbone. 
“I lost the right to,” she chuckled, her lips brushing against his neck to suck a mark on his pulse point. 
He moaned softly, snaking his arms under her waist, wrapping around to hold her closer. She lifted her thigh over his hip, pressing herself against him completely, ignoring the warmth of his cum as it dripped out of her. She kissed across his jawline, nibbling gently, and finally claimed his soft lips. 
 “I can’t get enough of you,” she murmured, straddling him. She pressed her chest against his and his hands held onto the sides of her knees fleetingly, then slowly slid upwards. His fingers pressed into her flesh, blunt nails scraping along her silky skin. He squeezed her hips and moved his lips against hers, tongues meeting languidly past parted lips, licking and tasting. 
“That’s just ‘cause you’re ovulating,” he mumbled against her mouth, his hands smoothing up her back to pull her closer. “You usually can’t stand me,” he teased between kisses, chasing her mouth when she pulled back with a playful frown. 
“Right,” she started, a laugh bubbling up her throat. “Between.. loving you more insanely and profoundly than literally anyone else in the entire multiverse… and the possibility of a time ever coming in which I’d destroy every universe for you… where’d me ‘not being able to stand’ you come from?” His eyes flickered across her face, the furrow of her brows, the frown that tugged at her lips. 
He enjoyed the weight of her loaded words, the unspoken words and meaningfulness in between the long stretch of silence between them. More than anything, Dean wanted to establish that she meant every word, but his tongue lay heavy in his mouth and his heart palpitated with a resurgence of desire. She waited for him as a million words hung in the air, but Dean remained speechless, elated—even aroused by her explicit and very intense expression.
She closed her eyes when he reached up to play with her hair. “You’re so selfish,” he murmured, pulling her down for a passionate kiss, cupping the back of her head in his large hand. The other hand snuck between their bodies, parting her from him just to reach between her thighs where she was drenched and needy. 
Mercilessly, he plunged his fingers into her, moaning loudly as his digits brutally slid in and out of her. His palm slapped against her swollen clit and she cried out against his mouth, burying her face next to his to muffle her moans. 
He tugged her hair roughly, forcing her back up and stared rapaciously at her face with parted lips, his cum pooling in his hand and down his knuckles. She fucked herself eagerly on his fingers, brows furrowing in gratification, her nails nearly cutting into the skin of his bicep. 
“So fucking greedy for me. Aren’t you, baby?” He asked breathlessly, his gaze moving down between their bodies as she sank down onto his fingers. 
“Yes! Fuck,” she shouted resolutely. Her pussy clamped down around his fingers, signalling the proximity of her release, she wanted to collapse on him, weak. His green eyes flickered back up to look deeply into her own eyes. 
“Come for me,” he ordered softly, grinding his palm against her clit. “Come on, beautiful… I fucking love you.” 
She cried out his name, squirting around his adept fingers. He let her bury her face in his neck this time, astonished and smug as he fingered her through a clearly intense orgasm. He turned slightly to kiss her temple and her head, his fingers gently massaging her scalp while she attempted to calm her stuttering breaths and wild heart. 
He removed his fingers from inside her, and grinned at the ceiling, “I love when that happens.”
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sulieykte · 1 year
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ervotica · 2 months
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s1! (and honestly s2!) absolutely gets amusement out of stopping situationship!pogue!reader in her tracks when she’s mouthing off, like she’s started bitching about topper squaring up to john b and rafe’ll literally get in her face and squeeze her cheeks. like “the fuck’d you say?”
but s3 he literally just has to raise an eyebrow and she’ll can it cause in her head rafe went from kook twunk to daddy real fuckin’ quick.
kook twunk to daddy i am crying😭
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but yes this is so true. you mouth off to s1 rafe, bounding along next to him as you gesticulate wildly, rambling about how topper squared up to john b last night, knowing you were at a party rafe explicitly told you he did not want you going to— not like you ever listen anyway. you’re halfway through a sentence about how fuckin’ stupid topper is when a hand clamps against the scruff of your neck; your feet drag across the gravel, rafe’s bruising grip anchoring you to his chest as he spits venom at you.
“fuck did you say? you wanna repeat that, pogue?” he spits, the name undoubtedly an insult coming from his lips. his insults never quite hit the mark with you, and you brush him off, rolling your eyes as you walk a few steps ahead. but rafe doesn’t miss the way your gaze casts downward, your eyes a little glossy as you stare at your feet with a pout on your face. and it’s only then that he catches up with you, hooking an arm over your shoulders to soothe your wounded feelings. he loves the feeling of control, craves it, the way he can alter your every feeling with his reactions. no matter how far you stray, you’re under his control (barely).
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you try that shit on s3 rafe, and it goes in a wildly different direction. you’re ranting about john b again, about how he beat the shit out of topper this time, your brows set high on your forehead as you ramble.
rafe silences you with virtually zero control; he fixes you with a sidelong glance, a brow quirking upward as you say something particularly bold, and you pause mid-sentence. mid-syllable, even, your mouth just… seals shut. you huff, pushing your lips out into a pout and kicking at the dirt with your arms crossed until he relents, hooking a lazy arm around your neck to smear a kiss against the crown of your head.
“gettin’ into too much trouble mouthin’ off like that, kid. gotta learn to be quiet, yeah?” his tone reeks of condescension— and even with his gentle touches, it rubs you the wrong way, your frown only deepening. he sighs. “you’re a real pain in my ass, you know that?”
but for all your performative defiance, he knows he has you under the thumb. you’re completely, wholeheartedly his. even without the label.
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princessbrunette · 3 months
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જ⁀➴ ᥫ᭡
bountyhunter!rafe who wasn’t meant to care about you, but now even when he’s supposed to be transporting you against your will — he shows you his soft streak.
however, to get to his soft streak, he’s gotta be real mean first. since travelling with him, you’d gained his trust enough for him to remove your restraints for your comfort. after stopping in a nearby town for food, you proved to him just why this was a bad idea — making a run for it as soon as you got the chance.
he’d caught you easily, and slapped you real bad once he got a hold of you. you’re now seated on a hay bale of an empty barn near by, sniffling and rubbing at your sore cheek as he calms himself, slowly kneeling to squat infront of you with an exasperated sigh.
“didn’t wanna have to do that alright? i told you i don’t wanna be the bad guy. you just gotta let me do my job, kid. there’s no gettin’ out of this.” he pulls out a roll of tape and you let out a sad cry, mad at yourself that you’d been so foolish and gotten back to square one all from one wrong move. gently, he bats your hand away from your face and pulls off some tape.
“m’just scared.” you mewl quietly and he nods, lips parted and eyes fluttering.
“i know.” he presses the tape of your mouth. making it nice and secure — and even now, having the warmth of his hand on your face you couldn’t help but preen, leaning into his touch ever so slightly. “and…and i know you’re sorry about it. you wouldn’t really leave. i mean you— you’re so far from home now. right? would have no way of getting back all by yourself. you’re just… too little to be thinkin’ like that now, okay? nod if you’re gonna be good from now on.” he stresses and you blink two teary eyes at him, sighing out your nose sadly as you nod.
“okay. good. good girl.” he seems to relax slightly, feeling the way you lean your cheek into his hand. he leans in, pressing a kiss to the tape over where your mouth would be before pulling back. “no more of this crazy shit okay. we got places to be.” he shakes the moment off, standing and holding out a hand for you to take so he could lead you back to the horse. you take it, and this time you hold on a little tighter — in disbelief you’d ever try to run in the first place.
જ⁀➴ ᥫ᭡
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bluebeary-jay · 5 months
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Hold me close and hold me fast
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Hi, my darling @always-andromeda!! I'm your secret santa from the space sisters server 🥰 I hope you're having a fantastic day and will enjoy what I wrote for you 💕 I tried to mix fluff and angst into your Joel prompt and it was tricker than I thought it'd be but hopefully I did it justice 😌 I wish you all that's best and happy holidays!!
Summary: It's been a long time since Joel was in any relationship and because of that he has absolutely no clue how to react to your affections. It culminates into an angsty conversation which he wanted to avoid at all costs.
Tags: tooth-rotting fluff, fluff and angst, soft and shy Joel, hurt/comfort, established relationship 💕
Word count: 3.3K
A/N: dividers by @saradika, beta read by @reddedmiller ❤️
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Twenty years ago, when the apocalypse started and Joel Miller lost his only daughter, he was certain that he’d never feel happy again. Time didn’t heal his wounds – he still thought like that when he was fighting for survival with Tommy, then when he was doing side jobs with Tess in the QZ… It was never going to get better.
But somehow, as he looked up at the massive tree he just helped the others set up in the middle of the square in Jackson, he realized that it could. It did. Now Joel had a home here. He had his brother back, he had Ellie whom he cared for like his own kid and he had a community that welcomed him into Jackson, people who didn’t know about the horrible things he’d done and therefore didn’t hate him.
“Hi, handsome,” he heard from behind his back and turned around to the most beautiful face in the world – the main source of his newfound happiness. You. His girl. “Are you done with work?”
He nodded with a small smile gracing his lips. You were the newest addition to Joel’s life, but the most precious one in his eyes. Unlike everyone else in Jackson (excluding his brother), you knew all about the sins he’s committed. And yet, you still chose him. Every day you continued to choose him, to envelop him with the warmth of your love which Joel wasn’t sure he deserved.
He’d never tell you, though. Not as long as you kept him in your heart.
“Yeah, no, we’re done. M’pretty sure my back will blow if I have to pick up or carry one more damn thing.”
Right at that moment Tommy walked by with another box full of tree ornaments in his arms, and huffed a laugh when he heard his brother complaining.
“Jesus, Joel, you really are gettin’ old.” He put down the heavy box on the snow and sighed, propping his hands on his hips and nodding at you. “You sure you’ll be able to put up with this grump?”
“Positive.” You climbed onto your tip-toes to press a kiss to Joel’s cheek, and he felt his skin growing hot under your lips. He turned his head to hide the embarrassment evident on his face, missing the slight furrow of your brows, but not missing a hearty laugh his brother let out.
“Aww, is the big, scary man gettin’ all shy from a little kiss on the cheek?”
“Get lost, Tommy.”
Tommy chuckled and bent down to pick up the box again. “By the way, you two have any plans for today? We’re makin’ a screening of some Christmas movies for the kids, and after that the adults will head to the bar. You should come.”
“Well, if you want to?” you directed the careful question to Joel, but he shook his head just slightly, causing you to smile. “But we actually have other plans for tonight.”
That was true, and there was no way Joel would trade those precious hours spent in your company for having to sit – or worse, dance – in a loud room full of half-drunk people.
“Sounds like somethin’ I don’t wanna know about.”
“We’re just gonna bake some cookies for Ellie,” Joel murmured when you bumped his arm lightly with a giggle. The irritation at his brother lessened slightly when he heard the sound of your laughter. “But don’t tell ‘er.”
“My lips are sealed.” Tommy winked at Joel, then shifted his eyes to you. “Enjoy your evening, lovebirds.”
“That’s the plan.” You took Joel’s hand in both of yours, beaming up at him with excitement. “You’re ready?”
“Yeah.” He inconspicuously let go of your hands to brush the arm of your jacket lightly, and then nodded in the direction of his house. “C’mon, darlin’.”
He hoped he wasn’t coming off as too harsh as he hid his gloved hands in the pockets, intending to blame it on the cold in case you asked. But instead of saying anything, you just matched his step and slipped your hands around his arm. Joel went rigid when you leaned your head on his shoulder, the side of your body almost hugging his.
Joel loved you like no one before and until he met you, he hadn’t been this happy in years. But there was a problem, a major one, in your relationship that he didn’t at all know how to address.
Because Joel didn’t have any clue how to react to all your touches.
No matter if they were tender or needy, brief or lasting, he always felt out of his depth. It’s been so long since he actually wanted to be intimate with someone that when the chance arose… he was at loss. You were such an affectionate person and he loved that part of you, he cherished all touches and gestures you graced him with – craved them even – but…
He stole a glance at you, wondering if you could feel the stiffness of his body when you were so close, but it seemed that you were none the wiser. He tried to will his muscles to relax, but it didn’t work and he still felt an uncomfortable feeling crawling up his arm.
The problem wasn’t that he didn’t know what he was supposed to do as your partner, but ever since Sarah died, he hadn’t had an opportunity to show affection to someone. Everything he thought about seemed awkward and incongruous, but he really didn’t want you to think that he was an inexperienced old man who didn’t know how to please – and in your case, love – a woman.
He did. In theory.
So he tried his hardest to show you in other ways how much he cares about you. He brought you gifts, whether they were knickknacks scavenged during his patrols or wooden figurines he made for you. He did what he could to relieve you of your duties, helped around the house and out in the town. He found time during the day to spend with you or at least just talk in passing if you both were busy.
But that still wasn’t enough. He knew that wasn’t enough.
Every damn time you cuddled, every time you kissed him or did something as simple as lay your head on his shoulder, Joel never felt better. He never wanted those moments to end, but at the same time he just couldn’t reciprocate, and it was tearing him apart, because he could see how hurtful it was to you.
“You’re quiet.”
Joel snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at you, noting that you’re almost at his place. He breathed a little lighter when he realized that he managed to go all this way without the need of pulling his arm out of your grasp.
“Is everything alright?” you asked with concern in your beautiful eyes and squeezed his bicep slightly, causing Joel to clench his teeth. “Listen, if you’d prefer to go with Tommy, just tell me…”
“Hey, I’m okay, sweetheart,” he assured you quickly and even managed to smile as if the guilt of not being able to even kiss your forehead wasn’t eating him alive. “There’s no one else I’d rather be with right now.”
“Just right now?” you asked teasingly, and Joel couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.
“Listen here, you little tease…”
A bright smile returned to your face and you tugged his arm down so your lips could reach his stubbly cheek – and (only a little) reluctantly, he let you kiss him with a huff.
But the guilt of not telling you the true reason of his worries was still swirling in his stomach, making him feel sick for the rest of the way.
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An hour and a half later the cookies were already done, and somehow the attempt to clean each other off the flour and the colorful frosting you used to decorate them ended up with you sitting in Joel’s lap, kissing him softly.
Not that he minded.
There was nothing as wonderful as the feeling of your lips on his skin, Joel was sure of it. It’s been an embarrassingly long time since he was with someone that made him feel like a young boy in love again, but your every gesture, every sound coming out of your mouth and every day he got to spend with you was just a confirmation of how lucky he was to have you.
Even now, as you were kissing him slowly and without any rush, he felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach. But while they initially appeared from the happiness and giddiness you were causing in him, the longer your hands wandered – and the longer his stayed uselessly at his sides – the worse and more stressed he felt.
“You know you can touch me, right?” you asked playfully at last, and the pit in Joel’s stomach grew almost tenfold in size. “It’s highly encouraged, actually.”
There was an actual question in your voice, which made him feel even worse. He should’ve known you’d address it eventually – after all, nothing went past you – but it still felt so awfully embarrassing to admit it to you. He was an old man, but felt like an inexperienced teenager who didn’t know how to make a woman feel good.
You moved to kiss him again when he didn’t answer, too lost in his own thoughts, but on instinct Joel pulled back – actually ducked – out of your reach. Immediately regret painted his face at the rejected look in your eyes, and he started to rake his mind in search for something he could do to fix it, but nothing came to him. He knew what you’d want from him – you’d forgive him if he took your face in his hands, kissed you with all his strength, let you know that you did nothing wrong… but it made him nervous just thinking about it, let alone do it.
“Sorry,” he quickly muttered. “I didn’t– didn’t mean to… I’m sorry.”
“Hey, look at me… What’s wrong?” You brushed some hair out of his forehead and Joel exhaled shakily, feeling weak in the knees at your touch. “Talk to me, baby. Did I do something?” Joel shook his head and you pressed your lips together. “Did something happen, then?”
“No.” He shook his head quickly, but he avoided your eyes. “No. Nothin’.”
“Joel…”
The room got too stuffy all of the sudden, the shirt on his back too tight and your body too heavy on his lap. Joel knew he was panicking over nothing, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want you to see him like this, so unsure and embarrassed over his own insecurity and behavior… So he gently removed you from his lap and stood up from the couch.
“Sorry, I gotta… I need some air. I’ll be right back, alrigh’?”
“Joel.”
No ‘baby’. No ‘handsome’. The tone of your voice made him stop dead in his tracks, and he turned around to meet your sad, solemn eyes.
“Just tell me if you don’t want me anymore.”
Your voice, so small and weak, took him off-guard and for a couple of seconds Joel wasn’t sure if you really said that, or if it was just his imagination playing cruel tricks on him. He blinked several times, but you were still in front of him, sad and… oh, god, you were on the verge of tears.
“What?” He couldn’t help a curt, disbelieving chuckle that escaped him – which was a terrible reaction, he realized when you turned your head away from him. “I– I don’t understand.”
“You don’t ever want to touch me first.” You let out a shuddering breath and lifted your arm to wipe your eyes, and Joel realized with mortification that he fucking made you cry. “And when you do it’s only when I initiate it, but sometimes you just pull back and it�� it makes me feel so unwanted. And I know I might come off as too clingy…”
“Hey, none of that.” Joel quickly made his way to you and sat back down, gazing at you with his brows furrowed in worry. Your face was tearstained already and you avoided looking at him, but didn’t pull back when he took your hand gently in his. “Darlin’...”
“Just tell me if it doesn’t work for you,” you breathed, your voice thick with tears which also welled up in your pretty eyes again. “I hate not knowing if I… if our relationship makes you happy.”
“Of course I’m happy, babygirl.” Joel lifted your hand as if to kiss it, but hesitated. He had half a mind to draw back, but you needed him now, and he needed to prove that he really loved you. So, tentatively, he pressed his inexperienced lips to your fingers, making you look up with suspicion dancing in your irises. “You make me the happiest I’ve ever felt.”
“You’re pretending.” The quiet accusation combined with you withdrawing your hand caused Joel’s heart to break and he opened his mouth to explain, but you didn’t give him a chance to. “I don’t want you to pretend now that I’m upset, I want– Joel, I need you to be honest and tell me if it isn’t working for you. You always move away when I try to hug you and during all this time we’ve been together I can count on one hand the number of times you kissed me first. I don’t…” you choked down a sob and a new wave of tears flew down your cheeks. “I don’t want to waste either of our time if that isn’t what you want. If I’m not what you want–”
“Sweetheart, you’re the only one I want,” Joel whispered with pain in his voice, moving so he could sit closer to you. “M’so very sorry that I wasn’t…” He searched for the right words, but everything felt flat on his tongue. “I’m sorry. For everythin’ I did that made you feel this way.”
“But why?” you asked pathetically, staring at him with defeat and sadness. “You never said anything and I wouldn’t try to touch you so much if you just told me you didn’t like it!”
“I do like it,” he cut you off with a firm tone, which caused you to stop abruptly. “I fuckin’– I love it when you touch me, darlin’. I’m dyin’ for you to keep doin’ it, but I…”
“You what?” you asked, softer this time, and Joel swallowed hard, nervous how you’ll react. But you had the right to know, so ultimately he pushed through his discomfort.
“I just don’t know what to do,” he finally settled on that. “I really, really love when you touch me, babygirl, no matter in what way.” He took another deep breath, bowing his head to look at his hands so that he didn’t have to face you. “But it’s been so long, damn decades, since I… since anyone touched me in the way you do. I never loved someone the way I love you. I’m very sorry, I just don’t know what I’m s’pposed to do… when someone…”
He trailed off, worried that he might break down and cry in front of you if he says another word, and he’d prefer to avoid it at all cost. The world outside was so harsh and cruel already, and you needed someone strong – a safe haven, a pillar you could lean on. He was that someone for everyone around him for the last twenty years, and even longer before the outbreak.
But it was so much different now. You made him feel safe and loved no matter what he could provide to you and it was almost scary how vulnerable he was becoming in your presence.
“...when someone cares for you?” you asked quietly. Joel nodded, and tears gathered in your eyes again, though now for a very different reason. “Oh, Joel…”
“M’sorry,” he whispered, his own vision also going misty. “I want to give you everythin’ you desire, darlin’. If you give me another chance, I promise I’ll try to…” He shook his head, defeated. “I don’t know. I’ll try to get past it.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” You scooted just a little closer and put your hand on his knee lightly. He looked up with anguish swimming in his brown eyes, not believing that you were still here and not already out of the door. You worried your lip between your teeth for a couple of seconds before inhaling deeply. “How about… I show you what to do? We can go as slow as you want.”
Joel slowly shook his head, not understanding. “...show me what?”
“You said you don’t really know what to do, right? So how about I show you exactly how… you know.” You smiled almost shyly, but it only caused Joel’s heart to beat even faster. “Where to put your hands.”
Joel was nodding before you even finished speaking.
It was embarrassing, really, how excited he got at this idea, but just the thought of your hands guiding his, demonstrating where and how to touch you, had him feeling weak in the knees and hot under his clothes. You smiled, almost with relief, and moved even closer until your thighs were touching.
“Here, just relax. We can stop at any time, just say a word,” you said soothingly, placing his palms on your hips and sending him a small smile. Joel wondered if you could see how red his face surely was, feel how sweaty his palms got. “Is this okay?”
“S’better than okay,” he breathed in something akin to wonder. “It’s easier… Everythin’ seems easier with you.” His chest was tight when he looked up at you. “Thank you.”
It wasn’t a lie. You did make it seem effortless, and though Joel could still feel the rigidness of his muscles and tendons, the tension was slowly melting away, replaced by a tingling warmth on his skin.
You gave him a reassuring smile and his eyes flickered to your lips almost involuntary. You noticed it, of course – Joel didn’t think he was exactly subtle with his staring – and cupped his jaw in your hands. His arm, practically instinctively, encircled your waist and pulled you closer before he could stop himself, but you didn’t berate him – in fact, you seemed delighted by his action.
“Now, are you going to kiss me or not?” you whispered coyly, brushing his cheekbones with the pads of your thumbs. Joel chuckled at your attempt to put him more at ease, but it worked and he leaned in to press – very, very carefully – his lips to yours. He felt you smiling against them and his eyes filled with tears from the overwhelming relief.
“I love you so much,” he murmured with his mouth only millimeters from yours. “So much, babygirl.”
You hummed a quiet love you, too, and moved your lips up to softly kiss his eyelids, then temple, then cheeks and nose. Joel almost wanted to cry when you started running your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp gently. It felt so good, your touch so nice and tender… He couldn’t remember when was the last time someone treated him with such care. Maybe never. “Next time it becomes too much, you tell me, got it? And I promise I’ll make you feel better.”
Your touch didn’t bother him now that he admitted what was weighing heavily on his chest for so long. Now, it felt soothing. Grounding.
So, so loving.
Joel held you closer, melting into your embrace, and claimed your lips in a soft – if not a bit shy – kiss.
There was nothing else he’d rather be doing tonight.
932 notes · View notes
thatdeadaquarius · 1 year
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Hi Aquarius!
I had an idea I wanted to share with you: SAGU creator reader who likes to make little bits and bobs for their acolytes. For example, Childe vaguely mentions that his gloves are starting to wear out? The creator crochets or knits him a new pair-Can’t have his fingers getting chilled in the Snezneyan snow now can we?
(I just wanna give my skrunklis lil gifts and make them happy is all :3)
(Also, could I possibly be 💌anon?)
WHOFOHNJDFjhkbfsgddf Genuine keyboard slam i just kinda slammed my hands down in excitement ahem-
That would be a lovely idea anon, yes very much so indeed,
so im like hella into giving ppl useful but still aesthetic/pretty gifts, like i dont want the things i give ppl to be things that get donated/thrown away (when i genuinely care abt a person)
Also IF I DIDNT RUN U OFF FOR BEING SO LATE YES HELLO U CAN DEFINITELY BE 💌 ANON THATS SO CUTE I LOVE THAT EMOJI-
Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them only)
Planet: General SAGAU / Isekai Stuff, Platonic Cutenss
Orbit: Headcanons-ish, a couple sentences for each
Stars: Everybody from elements Pyro, Electro and Anemo! Plus Aether/Lumine/Dainsleif!
Please understand that some characters are more “foreground” characters and have more screen time so I may have written some more for them because I knew them better!
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: weapons for gifts?? 16+ Older Teen + Up Audiences Advised, light cussing
& Trigger Warnings: None Known.
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SO U KNOW WHAT THAT MEANSSSS
THIS IS MY JAMMMMM, MY PB&J BITCHEESSSS GET REKTT
AHAHAHAHA- YOU’RE ALL GETTIN SPAMMED WITH JUST GIFT IDEAS I HAVE FOR WHAT TO GIVE THEM- YOU DO NOT HAVE CHOICE. YOU WILL BE GIVING GIFTS TO THE TEYVATIANS, THEY DESERVE GOOD THINGS. SUCK IT.
EDIT 9/19/23: WTF HELLO??!!! 1000+ NOTES??!?! THANK YOU SO MUCH?!!!!!! <3
PART 1 (you're here!) / PART 2
ELEMENTS HERE: Babygirls, Pyro, Electro, Anemo
Babygirls:
Aether = The most beautiful, amazing, sleek, and functional pretty hairpin that is also a knife! So he can have that badass moment of unsheathing it from his hair and having a surprise weapon and showing off his long hair, acted all shy when you gave it to him, he doesn’t get gifts often, all the birthday letters were for you afterall, i feel like you deffo have walked in on him miming taking it out all badass for practice lol
Lumine = bless her, you handed her this gift and she just looked up at you and u swear didnt blink or look away for a full minute. Then she nearly crushed you to death squeezing you, god she’s muscular, as you made a sort of self-care kit, including her favorite scents you added to like blank soaps/face masks, and towels you initialed with “Lumi”, she deserves a break afterall (and she thinks you deserve it too, and subtly tries to get you to join like *“*oh this is so sweet, something for us to do together”)
Dainsleif = sad little man deserves happy little things, you make him a weighted blanket, in these blankets it’s usually like sand or something that is put into little like quilt squares so it evenly distributes weight, but you used that water from the fountain that soothes Khaenri’ah people’s curse instead. He literally went speechless when you gave it to him. He has not had a single night of insomnia since. He would literally do anything for you, and literally stole you off to the side after a few nights of good sleep to tell you this lmao
Pyro Allogenes:
Diluc = Another bitch who just needs a break, you steal him off one evening and tell him you need a hilichurl camp wiped out, and there’s a cryo mage so you need him, bc thats the only way this workaholic is actually gonna drop everything and actually take care of himself, you have to deceive him, and then surprise him by showing him a hot spring you found. Teyvat has a lot more things to it now that it’s in real life, and that includes natural hot springs apparantly, and you’ve already prepped the place too, with his favorite non-alcoholic drinks, some indulgent foods like chocolate and fruits, and a soft robe. Man’s went wide eyed and nearly fell in LMAO, and then, looking away all pink, said he couldn’t accept this… unless you joined him.
Amber = a pair of comfy shoes, with baron bunny decorated all over them, like you sewed patches over them to personalize it, and the insoles are GODLY good, so she can run to Sumeru at this rate and her feet will feel like she went for a light jog! Some Mondstadt citizens, and knights tbh, are honestly a little afraid of Amber now bc her feet aching was sometimes the only thing stopping her from going 100% all the time lol
Bennett = a lucky charm, yes, yes, I know, basic, but it’s different coming from you! You’ve given him a bandana to wear as a neckerchief around his throat (it’s unprotected and he’s that unlucky?!) and it fits great, you’ve made it from Liyue materials, and imbued it with geo energy, so it actually makes a small shield/barrier around his head lmao, he’s practically thanking you every week and telling you how it helped him that week 💀
Klee = a treasure hunt map you made! every little stop/treasure gives her some candy or a snack, plus the next instructions, and she insists you go with her, and drags you along lol, and you planted them within range of the Mondstadt so she’s not too far off, and the final treasure (bc u planned it so she was supposed to start at a certain time/get to the end in a few hours) she finds at late sunset, and it’s a type of challenge that u were able to make, (bc apparently being the “highest god” means u get dev access, like the teapot functions but more OP). It makes a rainbow of glowing fish appear as targets to better Klee’s bomb throwing skills, and to entertain her, she gives the most dramatic gasp ever, and is just vibrating telling you “The fishes! They’re so pretty! ‘Bedo said that you give the greatest gifts, and he was so, so, so SO right!! Thank you very much!!!” :D in her cute little voice and then proceeds to speedrun you a hug and then starts throwing bombs lmao
Xiangling = HOO BOY- she has nearly every cooking utensil known to man, thanks to her being a young famous chef, and bc her family’s restaurant makes good money bc of it, so it was hard to think of something for her, but you eventually made her a handwritten and sewn together recipe book (look up “how to make zine”, its very easy actually, theres one with sewing the paper and a smaller one with just folding). It’s full of all of your favorites from Earth and what you think could substitute here, and how it should taste. Xiangling literally took your hands and spun you bc she hates luxury stuff, and really loves and appreciates homemade gifts, it’s the first anyone’s heard of your homeworld’s food so it makes her feel special <3 (she will be constantly harassing you with a spoonful of food to try and see if it’s close)
Hu Tao = You remembered one of Shakespeare’s plays and wrote a rough screenplay for Yunjin to adapt, then took Hu Tao with you to see it! She loves poetry and singing, so she loves to see Yunjin play usually, but she hadn’t had the time lately bc of funeral spirit work, (u also brought Zhongli so she could have fun embarrassing him lol), and she literally made a whole bit/joke about getting down on one knee to marry you, which was promptly interrupted by said embarrassed adepti, people even clapped lmao
Xinyan = You made her an aweinspiring outfit to wear onstage, modeled after classic rockstars from your world, she nearly teared up at the sight of it, and then nearly took ur ear out bc she was getting so loud and excited, u try to convince her otherwise, but Xinyan refuses to wear it outside of big occasions like Lantern Rite or performances with Yunjin (looks like this, I tried very hard ok, check it: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/76631631152377154/)
Yanfei = Once again, a written book, or at least 20 rap songs for her to look through. This sounds weird, but she eventually hopes to see a future where people are just better at obeying laws and considers then she’d be out of a job. So, after seeing some of Xinyan’s performances, she decided her back up career would be a rapper. She will literally stop you every time she sees you and lowkey force you to hear her latest rap she’s made, partially inspired from the Earth ones you gave her a lot of the time! She literally talked your ear off for hours, and didnt realize that she linked arms with you at one point and made you both walk at least 3 miles around the port lol, very embarrassed but grateful for the gift, another person who really adores homemade stuff
Thoma = you sewed him a cute plushie of Taromaru, along with a little plushie tea cup set. He literally covered his mouth in shock, and turned away, were those tears?? Very carefully took his gift and nearly bent in half bowing and thanking you for the gift, and was cutely touchy all day, linking arms, guiding you by gently nudging your back in crowds, etc. You once woke him up out a day nap on accident trying to find him, and he walked out half-asleep clutching the plushie Taromaru and nearly jumped a foot in the air at the sight of you lol, all like “HIGH EMPEROR?! OH MY- Oh my gods- Uh- sorry, so sorry about that!” and then proceeds to immediately hide Taro behind his back all red in the face lmao, refuses to acknowledge it, will get even redder if you keep pressing him about it lol
Yoimiya = so Yoimiya canonically really loves to go out into nature and explore, and go for that sunset hike type of person! so you, once again assume all these thru tutorial or teyvat craftsmen help, made her a hammock! She’s apparently really bad about falling asleep outside, and since hammocks can be really lightweight and good for temperate weather (ive tried it, sleepin in a hammock for camping its kinda nice, as long as you dont fall out/toss and turn a lot in ur sleep), and you even added some extra ropes on the sides so she can tie it down and not upend herself while she’s sleeping (keeps the hammock from tilting). She literally squealed and dragged u all over Inazuma trying it out with you, and because she chats with her neighbors/community a lot, EVERYONE KNOWS YOU GOT HER A HAMMOCK, YOU PAINTED IT AND EVERYTHING, DID YOU KNOW YOIMIYA IS ONE OF THE ALLOGENES THAT GOT BLESS WITH A PERSONAL GIFT FROM THE ALL-GOD??!! - everyone in Inazuma near her house, including yoimiya
Dehya = so Dehya likes to upkeep personal hygiene as much as she can between her mercenary job roughness and the general battery of the desert. She also is known to stop by the market place to pick up makeup and other personal hygiene products! So you figured if she’s collected so many of those over time, she might just have a practical bag to carry them in, and you offer her a multi-pocket cloth bag (like for taking makeup when you travel bags) and also attach a mirror inside! She literally covered her face with her hands and Dunyazard lightly teased her for weeekkssss lmao, and the other guys in her mercenary group like “wowww, someone managed to tame the Flame Mane?” which just makes her more shy bc the God of ALL decided to HANDMAKE her a gift, and not just a frilly thing, an ACTUAL USEFUL PRETTY GIFT- she accidentally set her claymore alight when you finished explaining what it was and handed to her (it’s fireproof too)
Electro Allogenes:
Lisa = a decorated tea set! Specifically, you painted it her favorite color, with some of her favorite book quotes across the saucers and her favorite flowers across the teapot. She gave you the prettiest smile, and just “Oh cutie! For little old me? You’re a bit above a librarian like me, but I’ll still accept this with all the grace of a lady courted, haha!” insists on “trying them out” with you all the time, especially when you get too busy from the other allogenes <3
Fischl (they/them Fischl supremacy) = You made a book cover (like how some books will have the paper sleeve and the actual hardcover is just colored? like that) of Prinzessin der Verteilung, but looking a lot more like them rather then the old protagonist! They collectively lost their mind over it for literal weeks, and did the same for you for your most relatable protagonist! :D They insist you two start a fantasy book club now- NO they don’t care if you’re the All Fürst! That makes you all the more qualified for joining the elite literature society they’re starting!
Razor = a bunch of hair ties! You’ve made scrunchies, bows, clips, etc. for him to try and decorate his hair with, all of things he likes, like little wolf puppies, or Andrius’ but cuteified, little symbols of all his friends like little bomb design hairclips for Klee, a red four leaf clover for Benny, a purple rose for Lisa, a golden star for the traveler, and an eight pointed star, like the four-pointed one but with some flare in between its points. A prominent symbol apparently associated with you u found out :0, Razor is giving Barbara and Klee a run for their money bc of how cute he looks walking into town for Lisa’s lessons with all this cute little clips and hair ties and braids in his hair now <3
Keqing = you know. you know EXACTLY what to give her. Plushies of cute animals or creatures in or around Liyue, like the little snow foxes from Dragonspire, a tiny oceanid, the small geovishaps, etc. Keqing doesn’t care if you’re a god, remember! So you better swear to never tell a soul you made her these!! …she sleeps with them too.
Raiden Shogun (puppet) = what to give a cold hard b*tch? …a break. you talk to Ei and make her give the puppet some off days, and you also may or may not have bullied Ei for being a hermit, so she can explore and learn more about herself, instead of being forced into the image, literally, of her god. She tries to write you months in advance for making plans on her days off so you can join her!
Ei (god) = an open window bc she’s a hermit, i mean of course you bring her out on “updates” (she weirdly choked a little over tea when you presented this idea to her, “Ahem- cough- a date? Oh, as in getting more familiar with the world, yes of course,” you basically pull out a map and take her to other countries so she can see how the other gods are doing these days and finally do something new, she is overwhelmed but in a good way? And she's especially willing to do it if you keep calling them that, these “up-dates”
Yae Miko = you were honestly kind of intimidated by giving Yae Miko a handmade gift, it just seemed like she would like something of high quality, which your gifts weren’t always guaranteed to be. So instead, you didn’t. You made a cool little picnic, and in remembering her love of stories from her lore as a kid, you brought some of your world’s stories to show her, the classics, then any favorites of yours, and some you thought she might like, and read them all to her about once a week. You both talk about and discuss the book and let Yae nitpick it and try to give her more context for books like Shakespeare in hope to answer all her detailed questions about the stories. Yae was so fucking smug (and secretly so in love) that she wrote a story for Yae Publishing House about it… “Joining a Book Club with the Akitsu Mikami, a Romance Novel” 💀
Sara = damn another busy woman, you steal her away with the promise of “needing a body guard” and she immediately answers and drops everything (u made sure to choose a slow day, dw ur not a rude god) andddd you’ve got her! Sara literally just stood there in shock when you showed up at your meeting place with homecooked food, specifically new recipes from your world, and some recipes from Xiangling! She would not stop stuttering out thanks yous the entire time, and fumbled with her chopsticks constantly, and she ate a lot, and even shyly asked if she could take some of it with her for later, now anytime you mention food around her she unintentionally starts looking at you with puppy dog eyes, (baby crow eyes??) even if the rest of her posture is perfect/gives nothing away lol
Beidou = A hand woven wine cask holder! a bit more solid so you can paint some designs on it, and you painted the whole crew, with Kazuha in the crow’s nest and Beidou is the biggest figure on it (stylized, u arent trying to paint a renaissance artwork here) and you even put her name on it “Captain Beidou” :) You were rewarded with a tall muscular woman squeezing you with her muscular arms, Beidou only puts her best wine/sake bottle in it, and only uses it for special occasions! she may or may not have had to make sure and hide it in her Captain’s quarters so other pirates won’t steal it, since everybody on the seas heard about the All Mighty giving her a personalized gift, but dont worry! She’s a pirate captain, she’s used to defending her most prized treasures from others <3
Shinobu = a spa day for another overworking woman, you made her another mask and hair tie! They still match her of course, but they also subtly have that eight point star symbol you’ve had associated with yourself before (like the four point but with a little flare), and she literally went so red, she hid behind Itto for a second. who helped morally support her enough to try it on, and it’s definitely her most comfortable mask!
Cyno = you were a little… embarrassed to make this one, but Cyno mentioned wanting it so… You made a TCG card of yourself. With the world in your hands as you hover in the middle of a solar system, you paint yourself giving a small smile down at Teyvat’s world cupped in your hands. One of the symbols they associate with you, the eight pointed star, not equal points, but rather a four pointed star with embellishments, said symbol glows and dangles from a necklace you wear, above it all. You swear he stared at it for a solid minute without blinking, and when you initially offered it, Cyno held it like it was spun glass. He gently laid it on a table nearby, his eyes never leaving it as he got out his deck, and put the card of you, on the very top. The mahamatra then gently set it down, and then gently hugged you and picked you up off your feet a bit (when you said maybe you were too heavy for this, he just raised an eyebrow, and that’s when you remembered that trailer of him throwing a body-builder man, one-armed, over his shoulder. He easily lifted you and set you back down. 💀)
Dori = A herb garden. Strange, but Dori’s sister has a lot of medical issues, and the herbs can be hard to come by, even for Dori, you didn’t tell her that you read some parts of her life, but when she saw the planter box, she knew. You had ventured far and wide, all over Teyvat, and the stuff you had came with you! so you put one of every herb you had or went out and got some because you’ve been exploring Teyvat anyway. And for once… you made sure no one was around, Dori teared up. She carefully set the box full of lively plants aside, and you were in the middle of explaining how to take care of them when she just, wrapped her smaller frame around your lower legs. You squatted down to hug her back :’)
Anemo Allogenes:
Venti = another book you made (look up “how to make a zine” on youtube it’s actually kinda easy) that you filled with all the lyrics to all your favorite songs, and some classics! The bard was ecstatic because he technically had vague knowledge or recognition of most of Teyvat’s songs, but songs from another world didn’t count, hehe! …he may or may not have lightly guilt-tripped you into trying to sing or hum some of the tunes or melodies of the songs, “I need to hear the melody so I may play it for you for eternity, your highness!” That’s his gift back, is that now you can get a Venti medieval sounding cover version of any song you like lmao
Sucrose = you’ve made another book (bought in Teyvat or made, check out “how to make a zine” on youtube it’s easy so I think you could feasibly handmake it!) and filled it with as much information as you can on how things like electricity works, luckily you can still retrieve information from Earth thanks to Albedo managing to somehow get you a signal?? You don’t wanna know, but point is, she’s literally spiraling. It’s been days, Albedo had to be the one to drag her out of the lab and eat, while you are starting to doubt if your gift did more harm then help… as soon as you voice these thoughts to Sucrose she nearly shook your head off from shaking your shoulders so hard while she ranted about phones, telephone poles, paved roads and she actually offered books back in exchange, for leveling allogenes up, as long as you told her more about “Those ships that go underwater again?? Please, Your Highness???” cute puppy dog eyes but worse bc she’s got cute glasses on too, oh no-
Jean = another workaholic woman who just needs a break, god why are there so many of them?? Your first thought was a spa day, but you like to think you can do better than that. In fact, she’s had a pretty heavy load since she was a kid trying to uphold the Gunnhildr clan’s name/knighthood, so you decide that instead of spa day, you should have a fun day! So you decide to take her out some days for some fun around Mondstadt (and recruit Venti to help do things like boost the winds for extra fun), like shield surfing! (look up Breath of the Wild shield surfing video if you dont know what i mean), it's something a lot of young knights do, and it’s perfect for Mondstadt’s hilly landscape! Other things like flying kites, or even rerouting all her work for part of the Windblume festival so she could enjoy it more! THEN you kidnap her all over again, and Barbara, to go to Fontaine! What better way for her to have genuine fun than getting a break to see and have fun with her younger sister and go see a colorful circus/fair? Jean was literally just a constant stream of “thank you your majesty! my gracious god, thank you- this is too much-, All-Fürst I am forever indebted to you for this!” and ur just like :/ Jean that’s the whole point of a gift is that you aren’t indebted to somebody-
Xiao = a friendship bracelet :) since he likes jewelry, and he likes you, it's perfect! and u made it match his necklace. you’ve also put that same water from the fountain that soothes the Khaenri’ah’s curse, and put it in there, and it actually lessens his karma, so for the first time in about 2 centuries, Xiao the Yaksha, can actually sleep through the night. You weren’t looking, but when you turned away to show him your sketches or plans for how to craft it, he sort of, reached out. You felt his hand warm on your wrist before it retreated, you could already feel the callouses, as the small weight of a bracelet was wrapped around your hand, his return gift, so u guys could match 👉👈 Xiao breathes out what sounds like all those years of pain in one shaky, relieved, “…thank you” (he did all that while you were turned around in your bag too, he was too shy to look at you when he put it on lmao)
Kazuha = “So this is what you’ve been up to lately, hm?” Kazuha’s been kind and laidback enough that he’s one of the allogenes who quickly dropped the formal titles luckily. He’s been seeing you sneak around and present your gifts to the others… and he came prepared in case you came to give him something too! Before you can even get out, “Hey, Kazuha, do you have a minute? I’ve got something for y-” boom. He’s beat you to it, he’s saying the same damn thing, and pulling out his gift for you. It’s a lovely Inazuman outfit, decked out in your favorite color, it’s like if you were an Inazuman character yourself- You just accept it half in shock, while Kazuha gives this small smile, but u can see the smug little look in his eyes, that little shit he really prepared a countermove- HE EVEN WROTE YOU REALLY SWEET POETRY AND EMBROIDERED IT INTO SOME OF THE INSIDE HEM LINES LIKE THE COLLAR -//////- ← you rn as Kazu’s all fucking smug, you end up just being like “take ur crummy gift u little shit” and nearly throw it at him lol, sweet asshole that he is, catches it anyway, and you’ve made him new hair ties, some minimal clips that look like maple leaves (like felt fabric stuck onto the clip bit) and the new hairtie is more like a scrunchie with a pretty red knot on top, your own symbol of an eight-pointed star, like an extra four-pointed star not the star of david lmao, sits in the center of the traditional japanese knot. He wears it nearly all the time, and mentions making you one to match (>:/ sweet considerate little shit he is)
Sayu = you’ve made her a quilt! stitched together from all sorts of cute fabrics, so it still matches her color scheme, she wraps up in it now before going into that balled up tanuki form lol, she insists you break it in with her and take a nap with her constantly lmao, and you give in even if you dont always sleep because of her tiny half-asleep smile (sayu knows the grip she has on you lol💔)
Heizou = a mystery novel a friendship necklace! you knew him and his friend had once had something similar, (they were more like matching river rocks or pebbles not jewelry you think) so you desperately hoped it wouldn’t be too offensive. The little shit who saw it coming #2, whereas Kazuha suspected you might offer him something, he didn’t have quite the same intution that Heizou did, so the detective knew you were going to give him something >:/ little snitch- he was so smug and teasing about it right up until he actually saw the necklace, it draped lower so it didnt look weird with his choker, and it was a pretty crystal you’d gotten from a riverbed (you didnt tell Heizou bc of the similarity w/his old friend, but he knew anyway) and he immediately looked the most serious you’ve ever seen him. His grin was less of a smirk and more of a smile when he processed what you gave him, and he wears it all the time :) Calls it his "God blessed good luck charm"
Scara/Wanderer = It was very hard, and you had to learn how from a blacksmith, but you finally got it! You made a small addon that latches onto the outside frame of his Vision, so instead of the sort of teardrop shape it has, you’ve made a heart shape. Since he sees the vision as his heart, you thought it’d be cute to actually see it that way! He was all like “I don’t wear jewelry, I already have some metal holding my Vision, are you trying to embarrass me?” You: “okay, well you don’t have to keep it, I’ll take it back-” Scara: “No? Shut up it’s mine now.” He went pink the first time he put it on, and he only wears it when it’s just you two, or you both and Nahida (bless her, she only lightly teased him, just enough to have him yell a little, not enough to discourage him)
Faruzan = a compass that points towards ruins/magical places, so she can explore all the ruins the desert has to give, and also, more importantly, guides her out, you deffo relied on a blacksmith for this one, and got Nahida to help you add the magic to it. She just got this, soft and bittersweet? look on her face, and redirected the nostalgic look towards you, bowed gently and thanked you, … you offered her a hug. Faruzan accepted, and you could feel the way she exhaled, relieved.
(Throws this garbage at you really late and runs away to my bed)
Hope u liked literally any of that! ;-;
Also im not done as you can see! Im doing all the elements bc i love these skrunklies-
Safe Travels Anon,
💀♒️
♡my beloved♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche
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msbyslilbimbo · 3 months
Text
toji tickles you, bc he knows it’s punishment from him that you’re not used to :/
and he is. cruel. he’s so mean to you about it because it’s a punishment after all, but the way he hooks his thumbs under your arms to tickle you, or ruin your orgasms by scratching blunt nails under your knees is just too much sometimes. sometimes, when he’s eating you out, he lets his tongue roam up to your bellybutton, lapping there hungrily while you shriek and try your hardest not to push his head away or- god forbid- kick him away. if you’re good, he rolls his thumb over the swell of your clit vigorously to make you cum, conditioning you to love what he’s doing like a dumb dog. if you do kick or hit him, or he’s just not feeling nice, he gives you a flurry of raspberries on your tummy while nails skitter over your ribs until it doesn’t even arouse you anymore and all you can focus on is tickling fingers and them not stopping as overstimulation and panic floods your mind and between your legs as you weakly push his head away to no avail.
but today he’s just in a bad mood.
his texts are blunt and short, he’s not using any pet names or even any dirty talk, it’s like you’re talking to a stranger. you pout with every blah text, ultimately before you turn off your phone and ignore the buzzing from your boyfriend.
a few hours pass before toji finally comes home, teeth bared in a snarl as he stalks up to you. in a panic you stand up too, “toji…?”
“why the fuck did ya stop texting me?” he snaps.
a chill shrill’s through your spine, “i… felt like you didn’t want to talk-“
“of course i fuckin’ did,” he says, only to then grab you and hoist you over his shoulder, ignoring your pleads of forgiveness. “only fuckin’ thing gettin’ me through the day, and you have the nerve to ignore me?”
“toji!” you mewl. “please! be nice! im sorry!”
he scoffs as you finally cross the threshold into the bedroom, and he tosses you on the bed and crawls after you to climb. he uses two big hands to hold both of your wrists above your head, and he works himself between your legs, keeping you fairly immobile from the figure between your thighs. “the hell’s being nice ever gotten me?”
you whine as a massive hand comes square on your tummy and scrabbles over the quivering flesh, no build up or anticipation needed before he dives in and just starts tickling.
“n-no!” you choke.
“‘no,’” he mimics right back, voice pitched and face bored. “like hell im gonna listen to you.”
“why!” you wail. “i didn’t even do anythihihing!” your knees nail into his tailbone in an attempt to get away, and you arch your back upwards to try and get some slack in your arms, but all he does is adjust them tauter and flatter against the bed.
“maybe i just wanna be the bad guy, huh?” he grumbles. “maybe i just wanna be the big, mean, evil guy who tickles you because i want to, eh?”
he is mean. you’d been nothing but good and patient all day, keeping up chores and housework so when he comes home it’s pristine, and all he wants to do now is tickle you until you cry.
“i dohohont wanna be tickleddd!” you demand, and he merely gawfs at your audacity.
“hate to tell you princess, don’t fuckin’ care what you want.”
thick fingers pinch at the meat of your hips and dig ferociously into the sides of your tummy, only to skitter back up under your arms where you sob. The sensations are maddening, but the signals in your brain slip when, in your search for freedom, you pant a moan out when he’s hard, hard as a rock nuzzled against your pussy. the rutting sensation feeling so good, you keep going, laughter turning breathy as torment crosses into pleasure. your eyes cross as you twitch, legs wrapping around his hips to keep him closer, albeit your torso still fights him off.
he smirks, “i think you’re full of shit sayin’ you don’t want this.”
it’s a case of a good thing becoming a bad thing, as releases your hands to slip a beefy hand down to your shorts, where he toys with the fabric; one hand tickles under your arms, one working the hem to the side to tickle your sticky pussy lips.
“toji!” you yelp, trying to tighten your legs to get him out of there to no avail. he’s stuck between your legs, and there’s nothing you can do about it but laugh and laugh.
your hands shove at his big shoulders as best as you can, given the tickling under your arms, but you’re convulsing from the overstimulation, tickling being the only thing on your mind as you writhe and plead for him to have mercy.
there’s a heat brewing between your legs as you flail to get away, one that pleads you to stay for the idea of a soul wracking orgasm from him toying with you, the other desperate to get away from the tickles.
he licks his lips, “maybe that’s why I like doin’ this to ya so much,” he says, leaning down and worming his head between your arm and head to whisper in your hypersensitive ears.
“makes me horny watchin’ ya squirm.”
@highdefhoetry 🙈🙈🙈 im sorry this was goofy
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