Tumgik
#they really said lazy writing is the way
shannonsketches · 26 days
Text
Why is the anime so weird, it's not even the same series dude?? It's like,
Anime:
GOKU: I have a great idea to bring peace to the universe, and my leadership and compassion alone will unite us all. I have No Flaws and am A True Relatable Everyman :)
VEGETA: NO! I AM THE BEST AND I WILL CAUSE PROBLEMS UNTIL I AM RECOGNIZED AS SUCH!!!!
Manga:
GOKU: Vegeta what's cornmeal made of? I know it's what the corn eats, but what's it made of? VEGETA: Hey Kakarot let's play the quiet game until one of us dies.
#silly hours#I do not understand this writing it's so bad aklsdlkasjd#Toei wants Goku to be Clark Kent SO bad and he SO isn't lmao#they're so good and dumb and rounded and complex in the manga what is the anime so afraid of#Toriyama said 'no no this man is a detached faux-immortal who has a dear pure heart but he's childlike and selfish even though he's kind'#and toei went 'got it goku's never done anything wrong ever in his life'#toriyama said 'Vegeta's gone through a lot and he's finally settling into his more mature leadership role with the confidence he's earned'#and toei said 'got it vegeta has the confidence of a high school bully except now he can interact with his family as a comedy bit'#girl hWHAT#Toei trying to group Goku and Vegeta as two people who would rather train than be with their families and Toriyama said NO Vegeta wants#to be HOME this is the first time in years that he's HAD ONE and it makes him HAPPY to be with his wife and children!!#Vegeta trains so that he can protect the things he doesn't want to lose again and Goku trains because it's the thing that makes him happies#They are NOT the same lmao And yeah Vegeta still wants to beat Goku but he also knows that Gohan could dogwalk both of them if he wanted#He also knows Trunks and Goten are going to surpass them it's not about being the best anymore he's past that he just wants to Not Need Gok#He just doesn't want to have to rely on Goku to save the day he wants to be Enough on his own he just wants to know he can be#because every time it's mattered he WASN'T and people he loved were lost to his inability to protect them and he carries that#Like Whis diagnosed him with anxiety and cptsd out in the open and Beerus said he was self-centered for feeling guilt#+ he lowkey enjoys the rivalry it keeps him goal-oriented so he can't get complacent and lazy which is what triggered his Buu Saga breakdow#realized how Fucked Up it was that having a home and loving family made him feel like he was failing and went 'wait no I won actually??'#now he's chill as fuck in the manga. cool confident leader.#and sometimes he is childish and dumb with Goku as a treat#you know what rocks about his rivalry with Goku in Super though is that it's Playful. Vegeta is learning how to Play.#You ever seen a shelter dog get introduced to a really playful dog and it takes a minute for the shelter dog to understand it's safe here#And then they're both running around the backyard playing hot potato with one braincell?? That's Goku and Vegeta's relationship#and the way the anime sleeps on that dynamic is so fucking criminal especially when it's literally canon it's in print it's out there#you had the playbook how'd you fumble it this bad#anyway that's my 25+ year blorbo thoughts I love Geets a lot okay#And I love Goku in the manga a lot I'd forgotten that he's actually a great character when Toei's not fucking up his whole vibe
63 notes · View notes
rainbowresurrection · 19 days
Text
Kinda got a love/hate relationship with the history of K/S because it's like. Can I please have a queer discussion about this 1960s television show without it being reduced to "shipper discourse". I thought Spock and Kirk were homo long before I knew that their characters spawned a fanfiction counterculture. The bisexual dude who wrote the episode that really kick-started the movement didn't know it was going to coalesce into the fan phenomenon that it did, he was just writing what he knew how to write best: the repression of burning male desire, and two dudes doing homoerotic shit. Can I just talk about the repressed burning male desire please, and the implications of a gay angle to Kirk and Spock's story, without it being referred to as shipper discourse. Can I do that. Does this make sense
36 notes · View notes
brightwoods · 1 year
Text
Does anyone else feel like almost all of the conflicts that had to do with the various character dynamics in Chain of Thorns didn’t actually get resolved, they just unexplainably ceased to exist after two books of building them up because CC didn’t feel like writing them anymore and she didn’t know how to resolve it naturally after how she’d built the issues up so much?
Like how none of the characters but Cordelia and Thomas had any clue about the Alastair and Charles situation and then suddenly in CoT it was like who doesn’t know? Of course Matthew knew and didn’t say anything before and then randomly brought it up to Cordelia in Paris while assuming she knew too
Or how Alastair and Thomas went from how things were at the end of CoI with Alastair thinking it could never work because Thomas’s friends hate him to oh look everyone suddenly is friends with Alastair with no grudge with no development of that in this book at all, just an abrupt shift
Especially the Alastair and Matthew dynamic where Matthew hated Alastair and wanted him to have nothing to do with any of their friends and he spent CoI ranting about him to Cordelia. And then suddenly in CoT it’s like of course Matthew is supportive of Thomas and Alastair and oh look Matthew and Alastair are suddenly not just tolerating each other for Thomas’s sake but friends despite barely interacting and no development actually showing and never getting any mention of the other in their own POVs, just having Cordelia be like Alastair stop being dumb, you’re literally friends with him now
Or like everyone other than Christopher and Grace where it was like oh we don’t like her for how she’s treated us and her friends straight to anyway she’s one of us. Like yes Grace was useful and yes Tatiana manipulated her whole life, but none of that was why anyone changed their minds or opinions? It was just suddenly the flip of a switch when it was convenient for CC
Or Anna and Ariadne where it didn’t so much develop as Anna just acted mean to Ariadne on and off throughout the series and at the end of CoI she wanted nothing to do with a relationship and then in CoT she was just suddenly like sure I guess I do. Also, slightly different note, but I did not like that Anna barely interacted with anyone else for the entire book and she was just off in the corner being an irrelevant romantic subplot for almost all of the book except when she showed up to barely even be shown in the background being sad about her brother being dead
(Although Anna still got more of a reaction than everyone else and his death was poorly executed all around in the sense of how did you write this so predictably and poorly that no one even knows when he died and it’s so background and 99% of the characters don’t care at all and we don’t see his parents finding out or much of Thomas’s reaction or anything and it’s just as if he wasn’t a character anymore 2 seconds later which is a different genre of issue with CoT but similar problem in the sense that both issues made the book feel a lot more emotionless to read)
And how the issues of Thomas and Alastair being together as two men and Anna and Ariadne being together as two women in this time and the issues of what would happen if the fact that Charles and Alastair were gay got out to the entire Clave just disappeared and never got addressed at all. We know how the ClVe reacted to Alec Lightwood YEARS later. We know society was homophobic at the time TLH is set and that it seems like shadowhunter society was a lot less open-minded than mundanes a century later
I understand that Charles being blackmailed and making shitty decisions was annoying but it was like suddenly everyone finding out wouldn’t have consequences and all the other queer men characters were like how could you possibly be worried about this :/ as if they haven’t spent the whole series knowing they have to be careful about who they tell. And then suddenly it was just of course it’s totally fine and safe to have everyone find out and why wouldn’t you be fine with that. And it was really written in a way that had other queer characters like oh Charles is such a coward for not being ready to publicly tell a bunch of homophobic people his sexuality and it just wasn’t it??? And super weird after Thomas was terrified of telling even Anna and Matthew for years. And also, I did not care for the fact that when Charles did go risk getting outed to finally do the right thing, we didn’t even get to see it through any character’s perspective or how that important meeting went, we just got one line of dialogue from somebody else saying that it happened with no details at all. And I can’t think of other examples right now but there were quite a few moments like that where we got one line saying that something had happened that was important to the plot and to characters’ development that seemed like it would have been more interesting than some of what we did get to see where it was just totally breezed over and way too easy and totally background to less important stuff
And then there was the whole no one reacting to Ariadne and Anna dancing together publicly thing was like yeah that’s nice I guess but not realistic and it doesn’t go with the way things have been presented up to that point, it also just feels like a situation where CC was like well this would be easier for me so there just won’t be consequences and then they can easily end up happily together
And then there was the whole Thomas and Alastair thinking they couldn’t realistically be together thing and knowing they couldn’t get married or be known to be together by anyone they’re not close to and then at the end it’s still not really addressed how they’re going to be together? Like there was the laziest write off of the family tree being wrong and then we still are just left to assume that eventually they move in together and suddenly it’s not a problem and everyone’s fine with it? And then I also feel like we don’t actually know if everyone found out about Alastair and Charles’ sexualities after the blackmail or if people are going to assume about Thomas and Alastair or if that’ll cause issues or if no one knows outside of who they’ve told and they have to be careful or what. Which like wouldn’t necessarily need to be addressed if it wasn’t for the logistics of being together as two men in that time being part of the obstacle that they were struggling with being in their way and then it felt like it was totally forgotten to even be one at the end by CC
Idk like I’d love to think they just lived in a world where homophobia didn’t exist but it felt like homophobia was a plot point when CC wanted it to be an inconvenience and then suddenly disappeared just to make her writing easier the moment she didn’t want it there anymore instead of actually addressing the plots she raised with it if that makes sense?
And sorry, I really did not mean to go on a rant this long. And maybe everyone else had a very different reading experience than I did and other people don’t agree with some or all of this. I personally am just very confused about how the book was almost 800 pages long and it felt like so much of the development in it was us abruptly being told that development had happened rather than actually getting to see it and how so many of the issues were abruptly solved in an I don’t want to write this issue anymore kind of way rather than anything actually needing to be worked at outside of the Belial situation
Edit: You know what, I mentioned it in my tags but I feel like it’s annoying enough to put in the body of the post and make it even longer. What the fuck was with everyone outing or potentially outing everyone else just so that characters could openly talk about the queer characters and tell them to do what they want them to? Why did Matthew out his brother multiple times? Like yes, the people he said it to coincidentally already knew, but he didn’t know that. And why was Thomas outing Alastair? The straights got to keep their secrets as long as they wanted and fix their problems more naturally. Why did I have to sit through queer characters constantly having their sexualities and romantic histories to everyone else when they clearly had not okayed it? Why were the queer characters doing so much of the outing? Why were people who cared about them and knew what it felt like to be afraid of the wrong person finding out just broadcasting their sexualities to make it easier for CC to breeze past development to have their things get resolved fast? Why did no character have an issue with it at all?
#As a queer person the whole using homophobia against her characters as plot just to pretend homophobia doesn’t exist and call her characters#cowards for worrying about it as soon as she’s decided writing it doesn’t serve her plot agenda anymore really icks me right out#Like yeah I’d love homophobia to not exist but girl what are you doing that’s so gross to go about it that way#ALSO everyone outing or potentially outing everyone else to other characters to make it easier to get the queer characters to do what she#wanted them to was a HORRIBLE vibe. Why is Matthew outing his brother? Why is Thomas outing Alastair? Why is everyone telling everyone else#people’s sexualities as if it’s nothing and everyone has a right to know when that character clearly did not feel that way#And it’s so out of nowhere every time too#Hot take: Charles protecting Alastair’s privacy instead of outing him was more valid than anything any of the other queer characters said#about Charles or Alastair’s sexualities even if I hate Charles and his going along with the blackmail was bullshit#Also now that I’ve written all of this down and 99% of what I wrote about in here has to do with the canon queer characters that’s not#a great look either that she did breeze over some of the stuff with the other characters for sure but she was way more likely to skip depth#and development with the queer characters in CoT#CC said no slow burn gradual changes in this book… there’s only room for abrupt 180s and Cordelia running 🏃‍♀️#Sorry if this has weird typos and other mistakes in it. I typed on my phone and didn’t check for autocorrect nonsense and I’m too lazy to#reread this all rn at my current brainpower level#CoT#Chain of Thorns spoilers#Chain of Thorns#The Last Hours#The Shadowhunter Chronicles#Cassandra Clare#My Posts
75 notes · View notes
pianapplez · 2 months
Note
Hello there 👋👀,
So I just found your blog and had a lot of fun scrolling through all the pjo show crit😂 I couldn't help but notice that one tag you left on a post where you said you had some beef with Annabeth's portrayal in the books 👀 Would you mind elaborating on that if you're comfortable with it🙈? Because I absolutely share that sentiment, but it's sooo veeeery rare that I see other people express anything like it... I've found that trying to be a part of the fandom can be pretty alienating most of the time, if you're not exactly the biggest most devoted Percabeth shipper...😅 And often any criticism leveled at Annabeth just gets you a smack with the "internalized-misogyny" hammer... it's even worse in the tv show now due to... obvious reasons...
Again just if you're comfortable with answering of course🙈 There is a reason I stayed on anon after all...😅😂
Really glad you asked because i finally get to ramble about this heheheh (going forward, know that i skimmed over The Last Olympian to have a clearer sense of what I meant because that's the book where Rick fumbles her character more than the others)
i'm gonna try to make as much sense as possible but short answer would be, she's underdeveloped. Long answer:
She really got on my nerves in the last two books, with the whole Rachel debacle and then the Battle of New York. I can't really remember a single moment in those books where she and Percy aren't bickering or having heated discussions, which really made me question their friendship status. Of course, it's not like friends can't fight and it obviously builds up the (romantic) tension between them, but it got unbearable at one point.
I understand she's a teenager in an incredibly stressful situation that didn't even get to have a normal upbringing- she grew up way too fast (run away at 7, head counselor at 12) while also not really maturing, which is not a problem for a character, if it is handled properly. Given the fact that I am writing this, Riordan did not.
On the surface, my biggest beef is that Annabeth is not exactly held accountable for her actions (ie. treating Rachel a bit like shit and going off on Percy for a bunch of stuff.) I know Percy is to blame a bit here: as far as we know, in TLO he basically cuts the greek world out of his life as much as he can as a coping mechanism. And while yes, he never apologizes either, he doesn't give her nearly half the hard time she gives him: always either giving him the cold shoulder (there must be at least one example of this in the entire series but i cant be bothered to look it up sorry) or starting an argument only to then storm off (see the "you're a coward, Percy Jackson!" scene, which is not the fairest example since she was confronting Percy about ignoring camp but also was a bit too harsh about it) (especially after finally reading the prophecy and being under the impression that he was absolutely going to die when he turned 16 lmao) or just straight up storming off (see, Annabeth reacting when Rachel shows up for the first time during the battle of new york). While most of these feel, at least to some degree, fairly justified given how the entire situation does an absolute number on her emotions, she comes off a bit brattish and like she's trying to rile Percy up, especially when it comes to Rachel, which in the context of a battle that could mean the destruction of the world.... Well, it reads as a bit childish to me, and i wouldn't exactly have that much of a problem with it if it was dealt with in some way (a two-way apology would be nice).
After that first impression, i realized that Annabeth is barely ever anything else other than a plot device (when relating to Luke) or a love interest (when relating to Percy). This might be because the books are on Percy's POV. Hell, on the third book he's even conflicted when Annabeth is considering joining the Hunters of Artemis, aka, when making a choice for herself would mean he loses her (which is fine and dandy but it feels like Percy is more upset about her choosing her own path rather than being sad about not seeing her as often); we really only get a few glimpses of her, as in, actually her when she's on her own.
Obviously it's impossible to talk about Annabeth without touching on percabeth, which also is, in my opinion, what hinders Annabeth's character the most. On paper they sound great. The guy whose fatal flaw is loyalty falls in love with a girl whose been let down by people over and over, and she decides to never give up on the boy whose always had people give up on him (can't find one of the million posts that talks about this right now but it always goes something like that) And yeah, the bickering is really well written! But that's literally as far as it ever goes: they don't ever seem to have fun together, because 8 times out of 10 the bickering ends up being passive aggressive, and mostly done by Annabeth. My biggest gripe about percabeth is that their friendship seems to be based off... shared trauma. Literally. Other than going on quests together we are given no examples of them hanging out, nor a reason why they would want to spend time together in the first place, not even a shared hobby. Yes, in the fourth book they had a movie "date" planned but of course they didn't even get to it, and surprise surprise, they had a minor discussion, and surprise surprise, Annabeth was passive aggressive again. It's hard to picture them having fun together when even the author doesn't write in any scenes in which they get along smoothly (and before you say anything, a scene in which they get along where neither of them is about to die, and they're not talking about previous adventures. Gets a bit hard then, doesn't it?) It's even harder to picture them as a couple when the moment she gets upset about something, she starts coming off as emotionally manipulative (see, again, literally any conversation with Rachel or about Rachel)
To be fair, the books are relatively short and don't allow many "filler" chapters, if you will; there's always something happening to keep the main plot or a minor plot point moving forward, but it's not like there is no room to develop the characters' relationships, especially when we're talking about the main char and what is essentially his endgame. As an example we have Percy and Clarisse, or Percy and Beckendorf. Their interactions are brief but still hold so much weight.
Worst of all, Annabeth could be one hell of a character; what's most interesting of all is how being a daughter of Athena she is still incredibly emotionally driven, which is displayed very clearly with her fatal flaw being pride: her telling the Sphynx that her questions were too easy was not smart nor strategic: it was completely impulsive. I seriously think she wasn't far from being the best character in the series had she been given more time.
I guess i have as much beef with Annabeth as i have with Rick for doing her dirty. I really could sum this up with: while her emotions are justified, she acts upon them quite poorly. And this is what i mean when i say she's underdeveloped, because it would've been nice to see her come to her senses a bit.
Would love to read anyone's opinions on her character though, feel free to comment, even (or especially) if you don't agree with me!
#pjo crit#anti percabeth#annabeth chase#percy jackson#tbotl#pjo tlo#the last olympian#percy jackson and the olympians#congrats anon on being my first ask!!!#sorry if it's too long or rambly i just have so many thoughts about her.#i dont hate her i dont even dislike her im just conflicted about her. sad that half of her conflict was being jealous over a boy#like yeah i guess said boy was the first real friend she ever had but also rick wrote it in a very “girls fighting over boy” kind of way#didn't really write it to make it seem like annabeth's reasons were anything more than just a hormonal teen acting out. there were no layer#sometimes i feel like im being unfair to annabeth and that maybe her being emotional and mean sometimes is her character and#she's actually written well and i just don't like her? but then i think over it and im not ready to give rick that kind of credit lmao#i truly believe he wrote her beef with rachel to entertain middle graders without really thinking twice about it#annabeth adds to the drama with her passive aggressive comments but at what cost.... maybe im reading too much into it idk#maybe i just find boy drama annoying..#but making it so that rachel is bound to maidenhood was such a lazy way to get rid of her as a romantic interest#the way rick butchered her character and any char dev for any of them in the tv show by rushing so many things... god. that's another story#if there are any typos i'll edit them later but my eyes are dry af right now and its late jdsjdfh anyway i hope my takes were interesting?#maybe i don't have that much beef with annabeth herself but the fact that percabeth is seen as the best endgame couple when i don't see it
15 notes · View notes
hella1975 · 11 months
Text
i can’t believe not even 24 hours ago i was in an exam like that still feels like something i hallucinated
#bc i have accommodations me and all the other academic silly guys go in a little room so it means there’s several different exams happening#and I have EXTRA TIME but the invigilator was like ‘you have reading time right?’ (different things entirely)#and my dumbass as we know can’t refuse a free thing regardless of the context so without hesitation I went ‘yep!’#like I’ll take it if ur offering babe!#which turned out to be such a pain bc in the 15 mins of reading time ur NOT ALLOWED to start the exam u just have to look at it#and my exam was stupidly short bc my lecturer is a lazy gimp so I was just sat there like 🧍🏻‍♀️#FOR FIFTEEN MINUTES#and the invigilator was really condescending? like defo got told she was in the room with all the neurodivergent and learning disabilities#and took it to HEART like she came over at one point and went to tell me where to write my name??? but obvs I’d already done it???#and I left early and before everyone else and when I put my hand up and said i was finished#she went ‘you’re finished???’ really shocked like#odd. very odd. also I had it’s been so long by the living tombstone stuck in my head the entire exam#THAT was not peak#it’s been so long…. since I last have seen my son lost to this monster… to the man behind the slaughter… 🤪🤪🤪#MY DAUGHTER IF YOU CAN HEAR ME I KNEW YOU WOULD RETURN AS WELL IT’S IN YOUR NATURE TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT IM SORRY THAT ON THAT DAY#THE DAY YOU WERE SHUT OUT AND LEFT TO DIE NO ONE WAS THERE TO LIFT YOU UP INTO THEIR ARMS THE WAY YOU LIFTED OTHERS INTO YOURS#girls will unknowingly memorise the fnaf speech. watch out josh hutcherson#hella goes to uni
29 notes · View notes
wraith-caller · 3 months
Text
vaguing
5 notes · View notes
waugh-bao · 8 months
Text
*
#I’ve been thinking about something a friend said in regards to the lyrics for ‘Angry’#because I was having a hard time putting my finger on why I disliked it other than the drumming#the ‘We haven't made love and I wanna know why’ bit played#and she said ‘that’s what you get for dating a 36 year old when you’re 80’#(she also pointed out that the vocals don’t even sound like mick. which is true. the song is grossly over produced)#my point isn’t so much this specific thing with mick#as that he’s been writing songs along these lines for 60 years#and at this point it feels like we’re getting 100% misogyny and 5% creativity#it’s all bitching and moaning about being wronged by a woman and denied access to her body#I don’t really care if they’re ‘problematic’ in their lyrics to some extent or another. they’re old rockstars#but there’s nothing special or creative or even metaphorical going on#it’s like a lazy version of ‘bitch’#I’m kind of concerned if this is the pre-released single. that it’s the best they’ve got. because it isn’t very good#((also heard mick mention in an interview not long ago that Tattoo You is one of his favorite albums. which makes the decision to trash#everything recorded before 2019 especially dumb. because that album was cobbled together from old songs and recordings. many made way before#1981. they’re almost acting like this is a change on the level of darryl. which is blatantly dumb. there isn’t 30 years left. in terms of#time or creative output))
2 notes · View notes
spittingspite · 1 year
Text
10 first lines fanfiction game
Rules: share the first line of the last ten fics you wrote and tag some people
I was tagged by @cryptid-crawly
OwO now I get to root through my fics and remember how I really need to write more fhsfffjgh
1. Diagnosis: Phantom Lovestruck, chapter 3
The day hasn't even started, and Shouta is already regretting agreeing to discussing the upcoming trip in person rather than over email.
2. Untitled
Consciousness cradles Shouta almost as tenderly as sleep does, coaxing him awake before he can have the presence of mind to refuse it.
3. Smile At Your Discretion
Shouta doesn't look in the mirror often.
4. The Bonuses of Coworkers, chapter 2
Toshinori stumbles into the teacher's lounge half asleep, still yawning and rubbing his eyes.
5. Knock Knock
Toshinori's breath is hot on his skin, every brush of his lips a whisper of a promise.
6. Push 'Til I Shatter And You'll Bleed From My Shards
"Remember," Dabi's voice warns him through the receiver, "we can't help you once you go in."
7. Tied Up With Want
Toshinori wasn't sure what to expect from Aizawa's apartment.
8. Untitled
The room is silent aside from their heavy, trembling breaths, intertwining in the air to create a breathy duet for just the two of them.
9. Untitled
The warehouse the police have been led to is dirty, crumbling, and overgrown with weeds.
10. Let Me Be Your Wings, chapter 5
It's not the first time Crowley's seen the bookshop after the fire, but looking up at it now, towering tall and proud over the Bentley like nothing ever happened to it, still feels weird.
And I tag @fghtinus because I love you and your writing ❤
5 notes · View notes
isekyaaa · 4 days
Text
I know it's the point for reader-inserts fics to be romantic, but the way people write them so dripping in unrealistic fantastical puppy love really triggers this innately viscerally repulsed reaction in me.
0 notes
sleepymaddy · 5 months
Text
.
#me.txt#just realized I am unironically that ‘could a depressed person have made this???’ meme#except instead of whatever it is in the episode#it’s 50k of the most boring and plain fiction ever written#spread over like 15 projects bc it was the only way to avoid the physically painful waves of shame and loathing over my ideas#this is something I should discuss in therapy but idek what I’m on about#so I really don’t know how I could. explain it?#things to tackle then:#1. my inability to estimate mood#and for that I need to fill in her journal thing but like#I can identify good or bad things but it doesn’t translate into a mood#I know there are days that are supposed to be good but? they didn’t really feel different#2. the certainty that I’m fine actually? I’m fine. look I wrote 50k and also I went to work every day#also I haven’t been crying as much#so clearly it was hormonal and I’m fine. as mom said.#I just have to find a job I like and then I’ll be fixed and it’s on me for not doing that earlier#maybe also do sports and it’ll be fine. i just don’t bc I’m too lazy and so I feel bad in direct correlation or punishment#3. that anxiety scenario thing has been plaguing me for two weeks#the concept of having to write it and then read it out loud and then record it and then listen to it? nope. cant. the shame is like. lethal#4. but it ties into 2; looked for a psychiatrist and didn’t find one#but also feeling very silly about the whole thing? i don’t need meds. I’m fine. i wrote 50k this month. i even enjoyed things#like that movie and being able to focus on a character#that’s a sign I’m fine. it’s proof I’m fine and that I’m not focusing on work or doing the other important tasks#only out of laziness and bc I’m a bad and selfish person who’s going to get what’s coming to her#…..yeah. i don’t want to go.#but I also wanted to disappear very very very badly when I woke up this morning so probably I should eh#other vague threads: the job from a distance and the life I should have#and the devaluing of nano while it also being the proof I’m fine
0 notes
bettyfrommars · 3 months
Text
Whole Lotta Love
Eddie x fem!Reader
18+MDNI, oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, pet names like baby and sweetheart, both Eddie and reader are over 20.
I received a request for a fic where, no matter how hard he tries, Eddie can't make you cum, and I was happy to do it because it's a much more common situation than how it's represented in most media. I'm not sure this is exactly what they were looking for, but it was a very fun thing to write. This Eddie had me giggling.
a/n: I wasn't sure I would finish this wip after I wrote the first two lines, but then I was in the mood yesterday and smashed it out. It was a very quick write, definitely not my opus, but a true joy, all the same. I hope you like.
wc: 3.1k
Eddie flopped onto his back, huffing out a satisfied breath. “That was so good,” he hummed. 
The fingers of one hand drew a lazy circle on his bare chest as it rose and fell, while his other hand scrambled over to capture yours.  
Shifting his gaze, he caught you staring at the ceiling, unblinking.  “Was that…did you…?”
“Um,” you paused.  It wasn’t that you were afraid to be truthful with him, but the fact that orgasms weren’t flying out of you at the same rate made you feel inadequate, like maybe you were the problem. 
He propped up on his forearm, searching your face, brow creased with concern.  “Did I hurt you or…?”
“No, no,” you rolled over, pulling the sheet up over your hips.  “It felt great.”
At that, he gave an actual sigh of relief.
“But, I didn’t cum.  Or at least, I don’t think I did.”
“You’re not sure?” 
You chewed at your top lip.  “No, I am sure.  I didn’t.”
He traced a few hearts on your shoulder with the tip of his calloused finger.  “Have you ever? With me?”
Your silence spoke volumes, and Eddie’s mind raced to all of the times you’d been intimate in the past few weeks since you’d been together.  He blamed himself for being too eager and sloppy, and shit—he was so crazy about you, it made him dizzy.  He couldn’t believe you let him touch you, let alone cum inside.  
His head snapped up.  “But what about that time I went down on you in the closet at Robin’s party? I swear I felt you—”
“I was close that time,” you admitted, remembering how your legs shook and that heat began to build, in the same way it did when you pleasured yourself.  “But then Gareth was shouting, looking for you and it went away.”
“Fucking Gareth,” he mumbled. “You were close then, okay.  Can I try that again? Now?”
He was already moving down the bed, palming the crook of your knee to slide your leg open.
You put your hand on his head, glancing over at the digital alarm clock.  “Not now, silly, I have to get ready for work.”
You wrapped the sheet around you and got to your feet, leaving Eddie to stare into space, alone with his tortured thoughts.  “Come over tonight?” He yelled while you were in the bathroom. “Wayne leaves for work at 6, we’ll have the place to ourselves.”
“I’ll come over,” you said with your mouth around a toothbrush.  You spat into the sink and then, “But I might be too tired for…other stuff,” your words were met with nothing but silence from the next room.  “We can watch a movie or something?”
Eddie appeared sullen in the doorway next to you in his checkered blue and white boxers. “Do you not want to have sex with me anymore?”
“No, baby I do!” You assured him, eyebrows high on your forehead.  You cupped some water into your mouth and spat it out while he ran his knuckle down your arm. “I really really want to, I just don’t want us to force this.  It’s okay if I don’t have an orgasm every single time.”
“Yeah but it’s not okay with me,” he muttered. 
You turned and planted kisses down his throat, dotting smooches along his collarbone, and then the final peck was on his pouty mouth. You rubbed the tip of your nose against his, “I’ll see you tonight.  I love you.”
—------
You parked on the other side of Eddie's van at the trailer that night and assessed the windows curiously.  At a glance, it looked like the living room had caught fire from the amount of candles that were lit. The song Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin poured out into the soft yellow light of the porch, and you knocked.  
A few raps of your knuckles were met with a loud curse and something like a metal pot crashed to the floor in the kitchen.  No one came to the door, so you entered with caution, and your senses were greeted with the smell of something burning in the oven.
Eddie was by the sink and he spun around with a startled look, wiping his hands down his jeans. He wore a Slayer shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and his feet were bare, letting you see the black toe nail polish you’d delicately painted on a few days earlier.  
“What’s with all this?” You blinked a few times, marveling at how tidy it was.  But also, there were at least 15 mismatched candles ablaze on the side table, the top of the tv, and the counter. 
He wiped his mouth and went over to greet you.   “I just wanted to set the mood,” he grinned, grabbing onto your hips to pull you close. “I read somewhere that the atmosphere can help with, you know.”
“You read somewhere?”
“Just one of those magazines at the grocery checkout.”
“I missed you,” he smiled against your mouth as you said it.  His warm skin smelled spicy and sweet, like he’d recently showered and put on cologne. The yearning you felt for him was all-consuming.  A few hours apart weighed on you like an eternity.  You tilted your head to deepen the kiss, and already your loins were giving you the nod like, “yep, we need to have him inside of us.”  You absolutely craved him on a sexual level, so why was it so hard to find your climax?  It seemed to come easy for everyone else in the world: everybody at the party was cumming but you.  
Eddie was nervous.  He hadn’t felt that out of his mind since the day he confessed he had feelings for you, but if you didn’t feel the same that would be cool, because he didn’t want to fuck up the friendship: you were too precious to him.  Your presence in his life made him feel sane and loved and seen in a way he’d rarely experienced in his life, if ever.  A miracle happened that day, and you’d flown into his arms, asking him what took him so long.
But what kind of boyfriend would he be if he couldn’t please you? In every way?
You watched a sitcom while you ate dinner on TV trays, and when you came back from using the restroom, he had everything put away, dishes thrown in the sink, and he was sitting very propper at the end of the couch, watching you expectantly.  
“Are you, um,” he cleared his throat.  “How are you feeling?”
This was weird, he thought. He was making it weird.  He needed to loosen up and not be so hyper focused on his mission.  Maybe you were tired, maybe you needed to let your spaghetti and burnt french bread settle.  
You straddled his lap, brushing hair away so that you could kiss his forehead. 
“I think I’m ready to try again,” you whispered, and then you ducked down to nibble his earlobe.  “Unless you’d rather stay here and—”
Before you could finish the thought, he was up and the two of you were moving out of the room and down the hall, kissing and fumbling with clothes as you went.  
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he nipped your jaw and side of your neck, banging the bedroom door open with the side of his fist. “I hate being away from you.”
There were a few candles around the bed too; on his nightstand, and a red one dripped wax from the window sill down the wall.  
You stopped abruptly, staring at the bed.  “Are those…rose petals?” 
“Tulips, actually,” he rushed to the scene and swiped the soft pink curls away with his arm. “That was stupid, I just thought it would be—”
You caught his mouth with yours, tongues lashing at each other in such an erotic way that a small moan escaped him. 
He wondered if that night would be the night he came in his jeans.
He wasn’t going to let himself cum before you, that was the plan.  He’d jerked off shortly before you’d arrived, but that didn’t mean shit because he was absolutely ready again.  
Suck it up, Munson.
All was off but for your underwear and while Eddie licked greedily at one of your nipples, you reached down to undo his button fly.  “Release the beast,” you cooed.  
He caught your wrist.  “Not just yet, I can’t, I mean, I want this to be about you.”
“I need an even playing field if I’m going to be relaxed enough to…you know.”
He couldn’t get his pants off fast enough at the urging of your hand that was quick to breach the waistband of his boxers to stroke him. He was rock hard and the tip was already weeping, needy for you.  
“Is this all for me?” You ran your thumb in circles over the tip.
Eddie tensed and huffed out a breath that fanned the hair away from his face.  “Fuck, baby, every inch.”
If he wasn’t sharp, he’d cum right there on the spot.
You bounced when your body hit the bed, and Eddie dropped to his knees between your legs.  The visible wetness on your panties were taking a toll on his already fragile state.  He wasn’t patient enough to take them off of you, he just put his mouth right on the material, nuzzling at your pussy through the fabric in a way that pulled a few sharp gasps out of you.  
“I missed her so much,” he pulled back the final barrier with one finger, licking a few times on your swollen lips, and then cursed.  “You’re so wet already.”
“Well, that’s what you do to me,” you propped up on your elbows to look down at him, sucking in your bottom lip at the sensation of his breath on you.
He slid your underwear off the rest of the way, trying to recall what he’d read in that Playboy article he read a while back? Something about writing out the alphabet, and the woman you are with won’t make it to “x” without cumming.
“How does this feel?” His tongue rolled along your folds in a way that made you wonder what he was doing.  He lost track of the letters at around “M”, hips bucking into the side of the bed, cock pulsing so hard, he had to reach down and take some of the pressure off.  
“G-good,” you gasped.  “Just like that but then, up a bit higher.”
You weren’t exactly an expert when it came to your own pleasure, either, you only knew what felt good when you touched yourself.  If Eddie made you cum, it would be the first time you ever experienced that with another person.  You wondered if you should tell him that.  
He followed your instructions, swallowing while he consumed you, until he found the tiny pearl treasure at the top and your grip tightened on him.
“Hmm I think I found it. Hey there pretty baby,” he murmured into your cunt rolling his tongue around the spot. 
“Yesyesyes, right thereeeee Eddieeee.”
The pressure and the speed was perfect and your hand went to his head for encouragement, but then he slowed down and moved locations, licking up the arousal that dripped down  your slit.
“Baby? Could you go back to that thing you were doing a second ago?”
He compiled without a word, trying to find the same pacing again, but the moment was gone. 
“Eddie—” you spread your legs wider as an invitation. “I really need you inside of me now.”
Well, he wanted that more than anything.  But one pump and it would be all over for his dignity.  His eyes were rolling back, seeing cartoon stars just thinking about it.  
Truth? He wasn’t going to make it.  
You noticed his hesitation.  “We can keep trying…after.  But I need to feel you.  It’s lonely up here.”
“You’re so beautiful it hurts,” he crawled up onto the bed, kissing along your stomach, up between your breasts as he went, and then nuzzled at your neck.  “My dick can wait until—”
But he choked on his last words when you took hold of him and rubbed the tip of his length along your wetness.
“Sssshittt,” his whole body trembled. 
Sliding himself in, becoming one with you, made him emotional in a way he’d be embarrassed to share with anyone else. 
“I love you so much,” your voice came out as a cry when he sank halfway in, locking eyes with you.  The stretch made you squeeze around him, eliciting a whimper from so far back in his throat that he wondered if it came from somewhere else, some far off place. 
Once he started to move, he thought about that sweet little pearl and lifted up enough to put his thumb there and move it around.  Your head went back and  you exposed your throat to him.
Eddie grimaced at how close he was, fuck that—he had to slow down.  The way he was touching you, it was making you stiffen like you had when he was on his knees, and he was taking note of everything.
But then you started telling him how bad you needed him to cum, to fill you up, to make you his.  He tried to hold out but then his eyes locked onto yours when you told him you loved him again and he couldn’t stop the wave once it started, no matter how hard he clenched his jaw and his buttcheeks.
One long babble came out of him as his thrusts got sloppy.  “Oh fuck I love you so much I’m cumming so hard, I’m…I’m…holy shit I love you.”
He didn’t ask if you had come that time, because he knew better.
After he caught his breath, he pulled you with him, twisting onto his side, slipping two fingers where his cock had been.  “What if I push all of this cum back inside so it will stay there? Hmm?”
You moaned against his mouth, grabbing a fistful of his hair.  “That feels good, keep doing that.”
“You like that?” He asked, just to be certain.
You nodded, and then, your hand slotted down between your bodies and his arousal spiked when he realized you were touching yourself.  
He curled his fingers to feel that soft, spongy spot, asking how fast you wanted it.
You couldn’t speak, your concentration was intense, eyes screwed shut. 
Oh sure, he was getting hard again.  The feel of his warm spend in your tight hole was doing nothing for his resolve.  
You clenched around him, and then he was whispering, “let me try again,” as he kept his digits buried and made his way down between your thighs.
His mouth had no trouble finding the treasure that time; it practically peeked up at him, begging for a resolution.  He relaxed his shoulders, breathed in the musk of your arousal, and took you into his mouth with a vibrating groan.
“Right there!” You hadn’t meant to scream it, but it was an actual eureka moment.  “Oh fuck Eddie, don’t stop…keep doing…keep doing that.”
He hadn’t moved his fingers in a while, but when he tried to incorporate that into the mix, you stopped him.  “Keep them still,” you held his head, locking him in place—not that there was anywhere else he wanted to be.  “Don’t move your hand just…Ahh yes yes…”
Your jaw went slack in a silent scream, but then his pace quickened, and before you knew what was happening, the blinding white wave crashed through you, rolling through your limbs like satin electricity, making you whine an extended, “cummingcummingcumming,” while you clung to his hair so you wouldn’t fall off the earth. 
Eddie was astonished to learn that could feel it happening.  The juicy walls around his fingers spasmed, fluttering like tight ripples, and he drove his tongue in eager circles, wondering if he could make you cum twice in one go.  Was that even possible? His heart all but flew out of his chest, it was beating so fast, and he moaned long and hard.
But after a bit, you were trying to push his mouth away.  “Wait wait, now it’s sensitive,” but he was so determined, he didn’t pull off until you physically lifted his head.  
He stared up at you, licking his wet, swollen lips.  
You were breathless, letting the final bits of glitter swim through your veins.  “That was—”
He kissed your cunt one two three times.  “That was what?”
He was grinning now, feeling like he’d just won the lottery, or at least a new car. The sense of satisfaction was officially unmatched.
He made his way up the bed to hold you, but you surprised him by taking his fingers into your mouth to suck them clean, dragging teeth along his flesh.  
“I’ve never cum that way with anyone else before,” you said in a whisper, but when he finally registered the weight of the words, his eyes widened.
“My sweetheart,” he pulled you flush against him, giddy, holding your face to brush his lips over yours. “I’m really your first?”
You gave his shoulder a teasing love bite. “And my last.”
“Oh nowww you’re in trouble,” he rolled on top of you, interlacing his fingers with yours to brace your hands above your head, and then he went to work munching at the side of your throat, growling as he did so.  
You screamed and giggled, realizing he was hard again as it nudged at your hip. “I see you’re ready for battle again.”
“I was born ready, baby,” he straightened to see your face. “You want to try a new position? I was reading this—”
The front door to the trailer burst open.
“What the hell? Edward? You tryin’ to burn the place down?”
It was Wayne.
Shit shit shit shit it was Wayne!
Home hours early from work, for whatever reason.
The door to the bedroom was wide open and his heavy footfalls were rapidly approaching from the hall.
Eddie threw the sheet up over you, and a few tulip petals fluttered to your face.  “I’ll be right there!” He shouted, trying to jump into his jeans. He missed a leg hole and stumbled back onto the mattress, making you snort out a laugh. 
He got to the door just in time to greet his Uncle, blocking any view of the room, buttoning his pants as he stood there.  
You could hear Wayne’s voice change. “Is, ah, is your girlfriend here? Sorry, I didn’t see her car.”
“No that’s cool, we were just—” and then he maneuvered him out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.
You lifted up to listen to their murmuring voices, and then Wayne asked, “why is there wax all over the carpet? Blow these fuckers out before the curtains catch fire.”
You had to bury your face in the pillow to muffle your laughter.  
1K notes · View notes
little-hermit-crab56 · 6 months
Text
I've been writing for a while so I thought I'd share some writing tips I've learned along the way.
1. Never sacrifice the flow for a quirky line.
That bit of dialogue or flowery paragraph you really like but it kinda disrupts the flow? Scrap it. I know it hurts, but you need to. If you really want to keep it, find somewhere else to put it where it actually fits in.
2. Dialogue is a dance.
Dialogue should go at the pace of an actual conversation, back and forth with little breaks and pauses. Add as little dialogue tags as possible while still making it clear who is speaking. You can also describe what is happening during a pause in the conversation rather than saying they paused, unless the pause is important.
3. Show don't tell is a guideline, not a rule.
Show don't tell is a very useful guideline, but if you're ALWAYS showing it can get exhausting to read. Skip the boring bits and just tell us what happened, then we can get to the good stuff.
4. If it's boring to write, it's probably boring to read.
If you can cut out a whole scene with little consequence to the story, you probably should. As I said before, you don't always have to show us, you can always tell us.
5. Everything needs to have a purpose.
I know there are probably lots of interesting or cute scenes where your characters are just fucking around, but if it doesn't develop character, relations, conflict, or plot, why should we care? Definitely still write them if they make you happy, but if you're gonna add it to your final draft, make sure it matters.
6. You don't need to explain everything all at once.
I know it feels tempting to put all the lore, and all the character's intentions, and reasonings into the first few chapters, but please refrain, you can reserve that for your character and worldbuilding sheets. Instead, take the time to let us get to know the characters, and the world, in the same way we'd get to know a real person. Make your exposition as seamless and natural as possible. It will take practice to know when to reveal information and when to let us wonder, but you'll get there.
7. Write in a way that comes naturally.
I know you probably have an author you wanna write just like, but that is unlikely to happen. Embrace your natural writing style and perfect it, rather than trying to be something you're not. Writing is an art, you need to find your own style and polish it as best you can.
8. Try to make us feel connected by cutting out certain words like "felt".
"Chad felt like a glass of water." Can be replaced with, "Chad was thirsty, so he reached for a glass of water." Both sentences tell us Chad wants a glass of water, but one makes us feel more connected to Chad than the other. Though both sentences have their time and place, you want to make your audience feel as close to their protagonist as possible. Make them feel like they're there, rather than just an onlooker.
9. We don't need to know every physical detail of your character.
I know you probably spent ages creating the perfect characters and you want to give us the perfect image of what they look like, but it can get monotonous and boring, why do we care that your character has brown eyes unless the colour has some sort of significance? Try to list off only the most notable features of your character and put focus only on the relevant details. Sometimes you can even not describe them at all and throw in little bits of information about their appearance for the audience to put together. We read to imagine, not to have a perfect image painted for us when we could be getting to the plot.
10. You're allowed to be vague.
Allow your audience to assume things, with some things you can just be lazy and let your audience's imagination do the work for you. Of course, don't do this with important things, but you can save so much time you might've spent researching an irrelevant topic when you can just be vague about it. You don't have to know everything you're writing about, so long as you know the bits that matter.
11. Writing is a skill that takes practice.
Don't be so hard on yourself if your writing is a bit cringe, we've all been there. The important part is that you research how to get better and keep writing those super cringe chapters. One day you'll reread something from a while ago and realize you're actually not as bad as you thought.
12. Leave your work to rest.
I know you wanna start editing right away, but once you've finished, leave it for at least a month. The longer you leave it the better, but that depends on your attention span. A month to six months is good if you're really impatient but want a good result. If you keep writing in that time your skills will continue to improve, then you'll be editing that draft with fresh eyes and fresh skills.
And if you're a fanfic author, I usually leave my chapters for a week before editing and posting.
Hope this helps anyone struggling, I thought this might be especially relevant now with nanowrimo.
I recently realized how much knowledge I've been accumulating over the years, I definitely have more but this is all I can think of for now.
I'm no writing guru, but if anyone has anything they're struggling with, I can do my best to help you out, so dont hesitate to ask questions.
2K notes · View notes
mammonsrockstargf · 11 days
Text
Satan would love goodreads.
He sees you one day, reviewing a book on your phone in the living room of HOL. He stands behind where you're sitting on the couch, peering over your shoulder, watching your finger press the four stars on the book you just read.
“What’s that?” he asks. You look back and smile at him, showing him your D.D.D. He leans down curiously, resting his hands on the back of the sofa while reading the words on your screen.
“It’s an app where I can rate the books I read,” you say. He reaches for your phone and looks at you for approval which you give with a nod.
He scrolls the app, checking out your reviews. “Isn’t it smart? You can give the books stars and write reviews and then you can look back on what you’ve read!” you exclaim, gesturing excitedly with your hands. Satan's gaze flickers from his phone to you and a light blush grazes his cheeks when he catches your excitement over books. “Yeah, that’s pretty cool,” he says, giving you back your phone while clearing his throat.
Now, Satan doesn’t really think he needs Goodreads. Demons have an excellent memory and most of the books on the app are human books, so he’d have to write in Devildom books manually, but he figures it wouldn’t be all that bad to download the app just so he can see your reviews. Plus, he does read a lot of books…
And boy, does he write the most scalding reviews. Everytime you see him rate a new book, you get genuinely concerned for the authors well being if Satan didn’t like the book.
I have lived for thousands of years and will live for thousands more and yet I wish I could regain the six hours I wasted on this horrible book.
I would rather spend a decade chained to Lucifer himself than read this horrible pile of shite again.
The plot was bland as fuck and the language barely did anything to make up for it, what a sad excuse for literature.
You come to look forward to these reviews, giggling whenever he gets particularly brutal. It’s a side of him you hardly ever see.
One day you recommend him a bad book on purpose, just to see what he’ll do. It’s quite easy to blind side him because Satan hardly ever checks on what’s new in the human literature world.
When you get to notification that he’s read it, you immediately press it, excited to see what he’s said, only to find the review relatively… tame?
Your brows furrow as you read the half-assed text, complimenting the plot twist at the end. “Didn’t see it coming.” It reads and you shake your head. That plot twist had been some of the absolute worst you’ve ever read. You’d been excited to see Satan tear it apart and call on the lazy ending.
You recommend him another book that you’re sure he’ll hate. Once again, the review is fine. Even the small following Satan has gained on the app seems confused.
This book is fucking horrible, why did he give it three stars?
Yeah, I followed him for his brutally honest reviews, but this is just weird.
You recommend him a bad book for the third time, just for good measure. “There’s no way he’ll be able to pretend to like this one,” you think as you innocently bat your eyes lashes at him and give him the book. Satan hesitates for a bit, looking down at the book. Then he sends you a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah, I’ll give it a go.”
You’re lying in bed when Satan barges into your room. “Satan, what are you-“ he plops the book down in front of you on the bed and crosses his arms. “Are you doing this on purpose?” A smile tugs at your lips before you think better of it and quickly fake a confused expression.
“What? I would never!” you say and he rolls his eyes and begin pacing your room. His fists are rolled into tight balls, knuckles turning white. He’s kind of hot like this you realize.
“Did you not like the book?” you ask and he stops pacing to just stare at you for a few seconds. “Are you serious? It made me want to rip my fucking eyes out!” he shouts and you giggle.
Satan feels like he’s going insane. Are you toying with him or something?
“What’s going on?” he asks and you shrug, sending him a mischievous smile. “I didn’t mean to tease you…” you say. “I just liked your reviews on bad books, so I thought I’d recommend you a bad book on purpose,” you begin to explain. Satan's mouth slightly opens and his brows raise at you.
“But then your reviews were so nice all of a sudden so I just kept recommending-“ You’re interrupted by Satan's manic laughter. He’s glaring at the ceiling, looking kind of insane in all honesty and you begin to wonder if you’ve maybe pushed him a bit too far this time.
You wrap your arms around your knees as your bed creaks with Satan's weight as he sits down next to you. “Are you even aware of how much I had to hold back-“ Satan grumbles, while he draws closer to you. His brows are pinched and his eyes are flashing green.
“Wait what?” you interrupt. “You held back because you didn’t want to upset me?”
“No!” Satan huffs and scratches his head. “I mean I thought you liked those books,” he says and pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut, while letting out a long breath.
“Oh, you big softie!” You chuckle as realisation dawns upon you.
“I am not a softie!” Satan's eyes snap open again. “You so are!” You squeal when Satan is on you, so you’re pressed against the bed, trapped between Satan's hands on either side of your head. Much to your surprise he begins tickling you. “Satan, no!” you yelp and try to get away from him, with no prevail.
“Take your punishment, human!” The demon howls. You’re gasping for air, lightly slapping his chest, in a fit of laughter. The side of Satan’s mouth quirks up. “This is the next best thing to eating you!”
a/n: thank for reading! <3 you can find my other stuff here
672 notes · View notes
tightjeansjavi · 1 month
Text
the feel of coldness only water brings
Tumblr media
A/N: so this is the unplanned part two of this Joel drabble I wrote called wildflowers. I just woke up this morning to some lovely reblogs on it, thus inspiring this piece 🥺 oh, and I also thought of @beefrobeefcal and her beefy, fat! Joel fics that are so so good while I was writing this!
~word count: 1.6k~
Summary: you convince Joel to join you for a swim in a lake while on patrol despite his insecurities
Pairing | joel x f!reader
Warnings: implied smut, fluff, angst (so sorry) non specified age gap between Joel and the reader, body insecurities(Joel), self deprecating thoughts, real bodies, natural body changes with age etc, language, teasing, flirting, body appreciation/worship, peepaw!joel, grumpy!joel, sunshine reader, reader has no physical descriptions (outside of wearing a bra and panties) +18 minors dni!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Sweat beads and drips down from the base of his hairline and slowly seeps into the fabric of his shirt, staining the fabric naturally. His steel toed boots stop at the water's edge, soft ripples lapping at the worn leather with a soft audible swish. The lake is crystalline, and beneath the glass surface he sees a million different rocks, all shapes and sizes and textures. The mountain air is crisp, refreshing as he inhales deeply.
The high noon sun blinds his vision momentarily, but he welcomes it. The fabric of his shirt is beginning to grow itchy, scratching at his skin from the beading perspiration. He kicks a stray rock into water, watching as it sinks into the shallow depths.
“Joel.” Your voice carries over the water, your head and shoulders bobbing like a cork in the middle of the glistening lake. “You said it yourself, there’s no infected out here, and the water is so refreshing. Won’t you join me?”
His shoulders tense beneath the fabric of his shirt, his jaw clenches, teeth grinding. He squints, bringing his hand over his forehead to block out the blinding rays, “M’fine here, darlin.’” He chuffs out, “Besides, one of us has to be on alert.” He added, rationalizing his decision.
“Is it because you can’t swim?” It was a safe assumption to make.
He shook his head, kicking another rock with the toe of his boot. “It ain’t that.”
“Okay, so you can swim? Well, then what’s the issue? C’mon, baby. You’re practically sweating right through your shirt.” You said teasingly, hoping to see the corners of his permanent set frown quirk upwards, just for you.
“It’s silly.” He wavered, eyes casting downwards to his boots. “M’just—insecure s’all. Don’t want you to uh—see me like that.” He was never the best with communicating, but he tried with you, and that’s all you could ever really ask for.
“Joel, it’s not silly. If it makes you feel any better, you can keep your clothes on? It doesn’t matter to me because I think you're handsome, and your real body isn’t gonna suddenly make me stop feeling the way I do for you.” You reassured him with a soft smile.
“If I keep my clothes on m’gonna sink like a fuckin’ rock.” He forced out a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with a huff. “Y’say that now…” he trailed off, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “But ‘m littered with scars, baby. Got grays on my chest and—m’barely fittin’ in my jeans these days. Should probably hold off on extra—”
“Joel.” You sighed, “I’m gonna stop you right there. Cause everything you just described to me?” You lifted your hands up from under the water in emphasis, “is a real fucking body. More importantly, it’s your body. You’re a healthy man, Joel. Your jeans ain’t fitting the same because you’re no longer in survival mode. You’re getting to indulge in a way that you weren’t able to in over 20 years. You're strong, but you're also soft in the right places.”
He doesn't believe you, of course. He would argue that it was because he had grown old and lazy like a house cat. You didn’t give him the chance, however.
“I love how soft and squishy your stomach is. You know why?”
He shook his head, feeling a flush creep up his neck and face,
“Because it acts as the perfect pillow for my head when we’re napping, and I love to grab onto your love handles when we’re cuddlin.’ Love to feel the way it presses into me when we hug. Or when you’re takin’ me from behind.”
“You’re just sayin’ that.” He scoffed.
“Am I?” You challenged him as you pulled yourself out of the water, dripping wet in just your flimsy pair of bra and panties.
“Don’t.” He warned you, taking a step to the side when you reached out to touch him. As if he was a frightened animal shying away. “M’jus’ a fat old man, darlin.’ Don’t gotta lie to me, sweetheart. I can accept the truth.” He was on the edge of snapping, nearly baring his teeth.
“Joel.” You said softly, “stop that. I ain’t have a reason to lie to you. Never have, never will.”
“You don’t have to protect my heart, darlin.’ S’okay. I ain’t deservin’ of your kindness. Don’t know why you even waste your time with a man like me—”
You looped your thumbs into the worn belt loops of his jeans and yanked him towards you swiftly despite his faint protests. “Would you shut up, please?”
Loose pebbles crunched beneath his heavy boots when you pulled him towards you and his hands naturally found your waist, big palms splayed across your damp skin. “Don’t you think you deserve yourself a real man? Someone who—isn’t like me?”
“You are a real man, Joel.” You gently remind him and slowly slip your thumbs from the belt loops of his jeans. “You’re beautiful, and I just wish you could see what I see.”
“Beautiful?” He scoffed, nose twitching when he felt your hands slowly slide up the expanse of his covered chest, “that ain’t me, sweetheart.” He rasped, tilting his chin downwards so he could watch your fingers gently toy with the buttons on his shirt.
“It is you, Joel. And one day you’ll wake up and realize it. And when that day comes, you’ll look in the mirror and tell yourself that you are beautiful, and you are loved, and you are deserving of kindness and softness for as long as Mother Nature lets me have you.”
He could feel himself slowly begin to cave from your words, tears pricking in the corner of his eyes, and he would claim that it was just from the blinding sun and the irritating sweat dripping from his brow. “Don’t know what I did to deserve you, darlin.’ Don’t think I’ll ever understand it. You could have your pick of men in Jackson, and you choose me?” He stifled a chuckle, dipping his chin down further so he could kiss the edge of your fingertips.
“You’re worth more than the whole damn bunch, Joel. Stubborn ass of a man, but I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
“Undress me.” He murmured, swallowing the lump rising in his throat, “M’yours.”
You smiled, dragging your thumb against his jaw and slowly tilted his chin upwards so your eyes could meet, “Remember, it’s just you and me out here. Nothin’ but miles and miles of wilderness.”
“Kiss me.” He whispered, tightening his grip around your hips, pulling you in closer.
Your lips brush, testing the waters before you fully kiss him. Tasting the sweat from his brow that had trickled down his lips. Soft, chapped, warm and familiar against your own.
Your fingers worked the buttons of his shirt open, exposing his skin to the warm rays from the sun. You pushed the strained fabric down his shoulders, letting the shirt fall to the pebbles below. You traced his scars with delicate movements, detaching your lips from his so you could follow the path your fingers created. You nipped at the softness of his bicep, pressing open mouthed kisses that trailed down his arm to his hand. You kissed each knuckle, each callous with your eyes staying locked on his.
You squeezed the soft plump flesh of his love handles, imagining yourself using them as an anchor when you would ride his cock in the early morning hours when neither of you could sleep.
You dragged your nose against the swell of his belly, feeling him tense up before melting into your touch like a pad of butter on a hot pan. You inhaled his musky scent, dragging your lips southwards through the dark hair of his happy trail, pressing a kiss there, too.
Your fingers moved in muscle memory as you undid his belt, tugging his too tight jeans over his hips and strong thighs, letting them pool at his ankles.
He watches your every move, brows furrowed together at the sight of you on your knees between his thighs. He hopes to god there is no danger lurking nearby. He wants this memory etched into his brain for the rest of his days.
He breathes out a strained puff of air from between his parted lips when you press the tip of your nose against the underside of his heavy cock, and the drag of your hot tongue through the strained fabric.
A groan bubbles up his throat, spilling over and he presses his hips into your face, the swell of his belly brushing against the crown of your head.
You giggle, nipping lightly at the fabric, feeling his cock twitch and harden. You watch his eyes roll back, words tumbling out in tandem.
“Do. Not. Tease. Me.” He growled and you giggled at his response.
“If you want more…you’re just gonna have to catch me!” You rose from your knees before he could grab ahold of you, stepping back with that glint in your eye.
“Hey! That ain’t fair and you know it!” He huffed, already struggling to unlace his boots so he could pull his jeans off completely. He cursed under his breath when he watched you dive back into the refreshing waters.
“Gonna get you back for this.” He grumbled to himself, fighting the urge to grin at the warmth that he felt flooding in his chest.
You heard a loud splash just as you resurfaced, and two dark brown eyes locked onto you like a target as you playfully swam away.
Your giggles and his deep, raspy laughter filled the hot summer air like a song that you would play on repeat, over and over again.
Tumblr media
Banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 💕
Follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications
787 notes · View notes
readerthatreadsss · 7 months
Text
Worth The Wait | Steven Grant
Tumblr media
(Inspired by the song of the same title by Kali Uchis)
Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader
Word Count: 6.2k
Summary: You and Steven have been roommates for a while now. But one night after being stood up by yet another guy in a string of dates gone wrong, Steven offers you some support...which sparks an interesting chain of events.
Warnings[18+ activities MDNI]: sub! (ish) Steven, dom! (ish) reader, fools in love, friends/roommates to lovers, mentions of drunk reader (but not drunk when they actually have sex, you'll see), crying (reader's drunk and starts venting for a bit, that's all), unprotected p in v sex (cloak the joker before you poke her), oral sex (steven and r receiving), Steven doubting himself mid-sex, assertive reader and awkward Steven! , choking (r receiving), riding, creampie, barely edited cause I'm really fuckin tired.
A/N: Hi. Don't ask me where I found the time or motivation to write this shit when school started back a month ago. The idea just popped into my head and my fingers didn't stop moving once I opened a draft. Note, I have a tall fem! reader x Steven in my drafts to finish so don't think I forgot!
Tumblr media
"Steeeeven," knock knock knock, "STEVENNNN," knock knock knock−
Steven's brows furrowed beneath his reading glasses at the sound of your voice coming from outside your shared apartment door. Concern as well as confusion sprang through him instantly. You sounded drunk. Which he was sure to be the case seeing as you were sloppily knocking at the door rather than opening it with your keys.
He quickly shut the book he was reading and removed his glasses before making his way over to the door in fear that your next call of his name would wake the entire building.
Unfortunately, he opened the door at the very moment you launched your hand forward to knock once more. This caused you to tumble through the door with a drunken yelp. But Steven caught you in his arms before your body could hit the ground.
You looked up at him with a lazy smile and hooded eyes. "Thanks, Stevie bear," you hiccuped, using both hands to cling onto one of his very defined biceps. You had never realized how big and firm they were before that moment.
"You're welcome," Steven replied worriedly. He swiftly shut the door with his foot and used your grip on his arm to bring you standing back on your feet. "Y/n what the bloody hell happened to your date?"
You rolled your eyes at his question, kicking off your heels and making your way over to the couch without somehow falling again. "See now, Steven," you paused and pointed at him drunkenly, "it can't be a date if the said date doesn't even bother to show up!" you explained.
Steven sighed deeply at your explanation as he sat on the other end of the couch. This wasn't the first time this had happened to you—or him for that matter—but he could never understand why. You were easily one of the most beautiful women in London, and definitely one of the smartest, (your framed Ph.D. in psychology hanging over the television was evidence of that). You were the full package and more. Any man would be lucky to have you.
But the men of London were clearly morons if they kept standing you up or acting like complete knobs to you on your dates.
He would never do that to you. But he's seen photos of your past dates. A woman like you was way out of his league and would never go for someone like him, anyone with eyes could see that.
"How much have you had to drink?" Steven suddenly asked you.
You raised 3 fingers to the best of your ability. "Six," you answered before bursting into a fit of giggles at Steven's expression.
"Gosh, y/n, you're absolutely clobbered," he grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and spread it over where your short skin-tight dress was riding up your thighs.
"Well I didn't lie," you sat up abruptly, throwing the blanket off your lap and turning to face Steven and sit as crosslegged as your dress would allow, "Three of the drinks were margaritas...the other three were shots of vodka though," you admitted softly as if it were some secret for only yours and Steven's ears.
"Do you have work in the morning?" Steven questioned gently, picking up the blanket and handing it back to you. Your dress was riding up with every slight movement you made, which meant more of your thighs being exposed to him. Despite this, Steven wouldn't dare look anywhere except your eyes.
"Nope." You threw the blanket back on the floor. The night was pretty warm, you don't understand why Steven keeps giving it to you.
"Do you want me to make you some coffee or tea?"
"Yup."
Steven looked at you in question for a few seconds. "Which one?" he prodded, fighting back a smile at your muddled state.
You moved closer and narrowed your eyes, "Which one of what?" you questioned, truly confused, before breaking out into another fit of drunken giggles that caused you to momentarily tumble forward and land your hands on Steven's thighs.
"Coffee it is then," Steven answered for you, his voice traveling up an octave. He then carefully moved your hand from his thighs, trying to ignore the chills your touch sent up his spine, and hightailed it to the kitchen to put on the percolator for you.
You tilted your head as he walked away, noting how quickly he left.
When Steven returned with your cup of coffee (with cream and no sugar just how you liked it), he found you seated in the same spot but with his blanket draped over your head and body while soft sniffles and sobs met his ears.
He placed your cup on the table nearby and carefully approached your figure on the couch. Steven reached for the blanket and slowly removed it from your body.
"Why are you crying, love?" he sweetly asked once your face came into view.
"Because I'm a mess," you sniffled, using a hand to wipe the trail of tears falling from your eyes.
Steven's head tilted in disbelief at your words. "You don't really believe that, do you?"
"Yes I do," you nodded fervently, "It's why my dates have sucked for the past 2 months, it's why I got passed over for that goddamn promotion at work last week, and it's why you can't stand being around me for longer than 3 minutes these days."
Steven was taken aback by your words. You thought he couldn't stand to be around you? That's impossible.
"You practically sprinted to the kitchen!" you added after a few moments of silence.
"To make you coffee," Steven protested, gesturing to the cup lying untouched nearby.
"I saw your face," you looked down at where your hands lay in your lap.
Steven swallowed harshly. "Y/n."
You ignored his call for your attention.
"Look at me," he came closer and entangled his hands with your own in your lap, immediately causing you to look up at him with tear-stained eyes, "You are not a mess," he softly yet sternly said to you.
"Yes I am−"
"No. You are not," he interrupted your arguing, "Your dates? They're all losers for letting you slip through their hands. And if a few bad dates is fate's way of making you wait to find the one, then I think that's well worth the holdup, yeah?"
You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously before nodding in agreement.
"And as for my behavior earlier, it was−" Steven paused with a sigh fumbling for a sensible excuse, "it's your perfume."
You pulled a face that would have made Steven laugh under normal circumstances. "My perfume? You hate my perfume?"
Steven swallowed harshly. He hated lying. He wasn't even good at it. But convincing you that he couldn't bear your perfume was easier than admitting that he just couldn't handle the way your hands felt on his thighs or the way his entire body heated up when you leaned closer to him. "Yup. The smell was too much for me," he fibbed.
You rested your head in your palms, pouting slightly. "But you're the only reason I wear this perfume, Steven," you confessed, barely audible.
Steven's face fell. "What?"
"You told me that you liked it when I moved in and from then I kept buying it just because you liked it."
Steven's heart swelled at your admission. He felt like an asshole. He was no better than the losers you'd been going on dates with.
You continued to speak. You could feel words preparing to leave your lips that have been eating at you for a while, now guided by your lowered inhibitions. "And I didn't only mean just now. These past few weeks you can barely look me in my eyes, or be near me, Steven. What am I doing wrong?" your voice broke with your last words.
Steven had seen you cry a few times before. But this time was different. The look on your face was heart-wrenching. He couldn't believe that he made you feel like this.
Because he was having trouble dealing with his own feelings for you, he made you think he hated you...when it was the complete opposite.
"There's nothing wrong with you. It's all my fault," Steven said, breaking away from your gaze, feeling it pierce through him.
"I'm the one who was dumb enough to fall in love with you..." he added, only to look up and see you passed out against the arm of the couch.
A part of him was saddened that you fell asleep before hearing his confession. But another was grateful and profoundly unprepared for your inevitable rejection.
Steven looked at you for a few more seconds before carefully picking you up—smiling to himself when you curled into his chest—and carrying you to your bedroom.
° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
You woke up in a slight daze...and in someone else's bed.
It took a few glances around the room for you to piece together that you were in Steven's room.
And then all of last night's events came back to mind, seeping in and clearing the fog that your excessive alcohol consumption had sired;
Your failed date. Coming home and falling into Steven's arms. Saying way too much to Steven. Steven's last words before your body shut down.
Steven.
Steven.
Steven.
"Oh God," you mumbled, cradling your face in your hands.
Eventually, you pulled yourself out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. You thanked whatever higher power was at work that Steven was still asleep on the couch when you padded through the living room.
But when you finished showering and exited the bathroom, you were hit with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You poked your head into the living room to make sure Steven was still in the kitchen before running a path straight to your room and getting dressed.
After throwing on one of your old university crew necks and the first shorts you could get your hands on (which happened to be very short ones), you heard a knock at your door followed by Steven's voice.
"Y/N? I have a cup of green tea and some painkillers here...thought you'd need them."
You found yourself smiling at the sound of his voice, something that was becoming more common in recent weeks. What did you do to deserve a man like Steven in your life?
You quickly moved to open the door and let Steven in. "Hey, Steven," you greeted him with a small smile.
He released a nervous chuckle as he presented a cup and two pills to you. "Good morning."
You took them happily, bringing them to your night table. "I'm not actually feeling very hungover," you said to him, turning to sit on your bed.
"Really? That's surprising...considering last night," Steven replied, taking a hesitant step further into your room.
"Yeah must be my tolerance and all that," you shrugged, taking interest in how Steven had yet to meet your eyes since you opened the door.
A beat of silence passed between you while you took a sip of your tea. "Steven, you can sit," you softly spoke, gesturing to your bed.
"Oh, sure," Steven took a seat at the farthest edge of your bed, maintaining a more than comfortable space between you.
"How'd I end up in your bed this morning?" you suddenly questioned. You were genuinely curious, but the reaction it garnered from Steven was more than worth it.
After a brief clear of his throat, Steven answered, "Well you sorta climbed into my bed in the middle of the night, gave me quite a scare actually, and I wanted to give you space to rest so I let you have my bed and I slept in the couch."
"Oh, I'm sorry," you frowned, a tinge of embarrassment seeping in, "Why didn't you sleep in my bed?"
"Because..." laying in your bed that smells flawlessly like you would've sent him into cardiac arrest- "the couch is more comfortable."
You nodded in understanding, placing your half-empty teacup back on the table.
"If you uh need anything," Steven stood up from your bed, slowly walking backward to the door, "just shout," he said as he turned to open the door.
"Did you mean it?"
Steven halted in place at your words, his back still facing you.
You slid off your bed and approached his oddly still figure.
Steven's throat ran dry. There's no way you could have actually heard him. Right? "What?" is all he managed to say.
You walked past him and used a hand to close the door, coming to stand in front of him. You needed to look at his face. Living with Steven for a year has taught you that he wasn't a man of many words but his face said more than enough when he couldn't. Drunk you couldn't utilize your psych degree the night before, but sober you sure could at that moment.
"Did you mean it?" you repeated, "When you said you fell in love with me?"
Steven's jaw slackened when he met your stare, that feeling of being pierced by your gaze returning. "I-"
Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer to him, now being close enough for his nervous breaths to fan across your lips. "Because if you meant it then I would tell you that. I think..." you paused and looked away for a moment, "No, I know that I love you too."
Steven's hooded brown eyes widened. He blinked a few times, trying to will himself to wake up if this was a dream.
You bit back a small laugh at his expression before you continued. "I love how willing you were to rent some small-time therapist your extra bedroom because you heard her crying in the corner of a coffee shop that she'd been kicked out by her stupid ex-boyfriend. I love the mugs you buy me every month because you saw them and they reminded you of me. I love how you watch shitty action movies with me after every bad date I have because you want to take my mind off them. I love how much you care about...everything really. I love you, Steven Grant," an enlightened smile rested on your face as you spoke, "and I'm sorry that I spent the past year thinking everything you made me feel was platonic when the truth was that you made me feel things that no one else has. I'm an idiot Steven-"
"No," Steven's first word came, a relieved smile accompanying it, "You are not an idiot. You are the smartest person I've ever met. Smarter than me, that's for sure," at that, you both laughed, "I've spent this whole year thinking that you would never see me as anything more than your weird, boring roommate...and turns out you loved me this whole time," he ended in a soft whisper, shocked by his own conclusion. Steven found his eyes drifting down to your lips and you immediately took note of it.
You exhaled deeply before closing the gap between you and Steven, meeting his lips in a bold kiss.
Initially stunned, Steven sunk into your lips soon after, gently bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your face.
Your brain fogged as Steven devoured your lips, an unusual confidence taking over him. You wrapped your hands around his neck and smiled into the kiss, allowing Steven to slip his tongue past your lips, tasting more of you and pulling a moan from your chest.
Steven pulled away first, feeling himself enter a state that he wouldn't dare himself to in your presence. You bit back a whine when his lips left yours, looking up at him in confusion.
"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he spoke, taking a step away from you.
You licked your lips and stepped towards him. "Steven, trust me, I want to do this. I want to do a lot more than this actually," you pulled his waist flush against your body, drawing a shared moan from you both when his growing bulge pressed against your stomach.
Steven's hands flew up to grab the back of your neck and your jaw. He softly muttered your name, as a warning more than anything else.
You leaned in and pressed a kiss against the corner of his lips. "If you say no, we will stop this right now and go eat breakfast. But if you say yes, we are gonna stay here and I'm gonna let you do very bad things to my body."
Steven swallowed harshly. "God, yes," he replied, failing to swallow back a whimper at the implication of your words.
Your hands squeezed his waist as you moved back to look at his face fully. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that Stevie," you smirked.
Steven looked down at you with adoration clear in his eyes. He couldn't believe this was really about to happen. He used his hold on your neck to pull your lips crashing into his. This kiss was a lot more hungrier than the first, with Steven now making his intentions much clearer.
"I'll take that as a yes," you grinned between kisses.
Steven groaned his agreement as he continued to kiss you.
You used your grip on his waist to push him back towards your bed, effectively breaking your kiss and causing him to land on the edge of your bed with a grunt.
Steven looked up at you through his lashes in awe as you approached him. He watched keenly as you removed your top, wearing nothing underneath, before moving to straddle his thighs. Steven made a move to touch your chest before stopping his shaky hands midair and looking at you in question.
You gently held Steven's chin up and smiled down at him. "Steven you can touch me," you reassured him. Even in an intimate moment like this, he was ever the gentleman...
Steven indulged with a sheepish smile and brought both his palms to each of your breasts. Unable to help himself, Steven dove in and took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud.
"Fuck, Steven," you moaned, eyes slamming shut at how good it felt. Your words only seemed to egg him on further as Steven switched to your other breast, his lips and tongue moving against it with more enthusiasm.
Your hands at the back of his neck grabbed fistfuls of his curls while his ministrations against your chest pulled more moans and whines from your lips.
Some time after, you pulled Steven's lips away from your breasts and met them in a searing kiss, pressing your clothed cunt down against his erection. "Shit," Steven lowly cursed, bringing his hands to your waist to grind you down further against his bulge.
You obliged with a moan, grinding in Steven's lap harder. "Tell me what you want, Steven," you whispered against his lips.
Steven's hands squeezed your waist harshly when your lips began sucking against his throat. He could barely put together thoughts at the moment, much less words.
You trailed a hand down to the waistband of Steven's sweats and slowly reached under it for his cock. You swallowed a moan when your hand traced his full length and girth. "You've been holding out on me Steven," you chuckled against his neck.
Steven blushed furiously at your words. "Thank you?" he responded awkwardly, barely functioning with your hand rubbing along his cock.
You chuckled once again, pulling away from his neck to look at him. "You're so pretty," you said, causing another wave of red to hit Steven's cheeks.
"No one's ever said that to me before," he admitted softly.
"Well that's okay, cause I want to be the only one who makes you blush like this," you grinned brushing a stray curl from his forehead, "I bet your cock is just as pretty," your hand picked up speed beneath Steven's pants, "Can I see it? Please?"
Steven nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you want," he said with a desperation that had your pussy throbbing with need. You briefly lifted your hips allowing Steven to clumsily slide off his sweatpants and boxers and step out of them.
Once you returned to your position on his thighs, you looked down at his cock, the head already dripping with small beads of precum. The length was truly unexpected, as well as the girth. You would do anything to feel him inside you.
But for now, you really wanted to taste him.
Steven watched you sink to your knees before him, your eyes never straying from his.
"Are you sure you want to-"
"Steven you said anything I wanted," you paused, gliding your fingers over his length and watching it twitch in response, "And I really want to taste you. Can I suck your cock, Steven?"
Steven's breathing picked up as he took in the image before him; you on your knees, touching his dick while literally begging to suck it with a look in your eyes he could only compare to the look of a wild female tiger eyeing her freshly caught meal in the nature documentary he watched the week before.
"Please, please do," his response came soon after.
You began with a kiss to the head of his cock that made it immediately jump in your hand. You couldn't help but chuckle, and it was a sound that Steven hoped would be the last thing he heard before he left this earth. "You're so sensitive, Stevie," you cooed before pressing another kiss but to the base of his length.
Steven released a sharp moan at both of your kisses to his cock, finding himself embarrassingly close to cumming already.
"Please," he pleaded your name with a whine, "stop teasing."
You swirled your tongue around the head where precum had gathered, moaning in time with your movements and drawing yet another mewl from Steven. "Oh but Stevie, I just love hearing you say please," you teased him, looking up from where you had a hand wrapped around his base and another briefly caressing his balls.
Steven was now panting, his eyes never leaving you as you held him. He watched you slowly wrap your lips around his tip before slowly sinking down.
After reaching a little more than halfway down Steven's cock, you felt yourself gag but simply stilled instead of removing yourself completely.
"Fucking hell," Steven grunted before melding into a pathetic moan once you held your position. You eventually let up when you almost ran out of air and slowly removed your lips from his dick, your eyes meeting his with tears streaming along your face from the stretch.
You were prepared to do it once again but felt Steven's palm grab your chin before you could. "No, love, please. If you do that again I'm afraid I'm not gonna last."
Steven watched you lick your lips before shifting to trap his thumb in between your lips and softly suck on it. He couldn't stop the whine that slipped his lips at your action.
You eventually released his thumb from the confines of your mouth and came to stand over him with a smile. "Well then. Tell me what you want to do next. I'm all yours, baby, remember?"
Steven brought his hands to rest on your hips and leaned forward to press a soft kiss against your stomach. "I-uhh," his brows furrowed and he shook his head briefly as if sending away a thought.
"What is it, Steven?"
The man beneath you looked up to meet your eager eyes, suddenly confident enough to say what he wanted. "I really...really want to taste you."
You felt your breath hitch at his request. It was rare for a man to enthusiastically offer to go down on you. Though it was clear to you now that Steven was most definitely a rare man.
"You want to?" you felt your voice come out a lot more unsure than usual.
Steven's brows furrowed once again as a fleeting smile graced his lips at your response. "Of course I do, sweetheart. Do men not usually..."
You harshly exhaled. "I mean some do but I usually have to complain first or they do it cause they want me to return the favor," you admitted.
"They don't deserve you. No one does," Steven softly uttered, gazing up at you with eyes you were growing more fond of by the minute.
You quickly leaned down to meet him in a kiss in response. You didn't deserve him either.
Steven pulled you back into his lap and kissed you back eagerly. But he was the first to pull away, causing you to whine in a way that made his cock jump against your cunt. "I-I really did mean it, love, I need to taste you. Now."
You had never seen Steven so demanding. It had you throbbing in anticipation. You allowed him to lay you on your back and peel away your shorts and panties to reveal the part of you where you needed him most.
Steven looked starstruck as he examined your arousal. He moved closer and closer to your pussy, letting his warm breath fan over your glistening lips.
"Steven please-" you begged, though you couldn't finish your thought before your voice broke into a loud moan when Steven licked a stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit.
Steven closed his eyes, relishing his first taste of you. It was everything he'd quite literally dreamed of and more.
And so, he eagerly dived into your core.
Your hands flew to Steven's head working between your legs as your thighs instinctively closed around his head from the sudden wave of pleasure surging through you.
The feeling of your thighs trapping his head against your pussy was absolute bliss to Steven. He moaned into you as his tongue swirled around your clit sloppily. If he was inexperienced, you couldn't tell because every movement of his tongue brought you closer and closer to your release.
The vibrations of Steven's enjoyment drew a brief scream from your chest before you slapped a hand over your lips to silence it.
Steven finally came up for air, his lips and jaws covered in your slick. His curls were strewn along his forehead by a damp layer of sweat as his dilated pupils met your own. "C'mon. I want to hear those pretty noises you make for me, love," he said before running two of his fingers through your folds to gather some of your wetness and slowly inserting them into you.
"Oh my-STEVEN" your back arched up and off your bed as you felt immediately filled up by Steven's digits.
Steven gauged your reactions as he slowly removed his fingers before pushing them again with no resistance due to your arousal. "I've wanted this for so long, love," he began to speak as he slowly leaned down to press his lips against your clit in a kiss, "Wanted to hear you moaning my name," he sped up his fingers' movements inside you, "Wanted to taste you," he added another finger, now touching that spot inside your walls with every thrust, "You're so beautiful," he ended before fully diving back in with his tongue against your bud.
"Yes—fuck—you're so good to me baby," you finally gathered enough breath to speak while gaining a proper grip on his head. With every sharp lick or nip he'd make, you would tighten your grip on his hair and it would only spur him on further. It was only a matter of seconds from there before...
"Shit, I'm gonna cum, Steven," you called out, looking down to meet where he was already staring up at you, and speeding up his fingers and tongue's ministrations against you.
He held your stare once he felt your walls clench around his fingers and heard your moan melt into a scream.
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK," you shouted as your orgasm slammed into you thanks to Steven's eager tongue and fingers.
Steven watched your chest slow its heaving when your climax subsided and removed his fingers but couldn't stop himself from licking the remnants of your release from your folds. It was as if he was trying to work you up to another orgasm.
"Shit Steven wait," you mewled, attempting to close your legs from overstimulation. But Steven used strength you'd never known him to have to shove your legs back open and hold them in place, clearly intent on tasting every bit of what you had to offer.
Your eyes widened. "Holy fuck," you removed both your hands from Steven's head and ran them over your face and boobs. He was driving you absolutely insane. If it weren't for his grip on your legs you would be trembling beneath him.
It wasn't long before a second orgasm crept up on you, one more powerful than the last. Your lips parted in a silent scream as your climax washed over your entire body, from your thighs to your feet, to the base of your fucking spine.
Steven couldn't help but stare as he cleaned you up for the last time with his tongue. He couldn't believe he got to see this. To make you feel like this.
Your high subsided soon after and you released a sharp exhale followed by a laugh of disbelief.
Steven moved from his position on his knees before you to hover above you on your bed. "You okay, love?" he questioned in concern
You responded to his question with a satisfied grin. "I'm great, Stevie," you spoke before meeting his lips in a sweet kiss, "But..."
Steven's face fell at your words. He slowly moved from above you to lay next to you, scared to meet your eyes. "I did something wrong didn't I? Or did I forget to do something? I'm sorry-" he rambled, immediately doubting himself.
But his words died in his throat when you turned and caressed his cheek with a hand, your grin still present on your face. "You did nothing wrong," you insisted, "That was no doubt one of the best orgasms of my entire life."
Steven looked away and laughed at your confession. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better."
"I mean it, Steven," your voice grew stern, "That was fucking incredible."
Steven couldn't even formulate a response.
"What I was going to say was," you broke his silence, "I promised you could do bad things to my body and you haven't done nearly enough for me," you ended with a smirk.
Steven grunted when he felt your fingertips run along his cock.
"Don't you want to fuck me, Steven?" you questioned innocently while completely wrapping your hand around and stroking Steven's dick.
He nodded quickly, his bottom lip held between his teeth as he tried not to react to how soft your hand felt around his painfully hard cock. "I do. So badly, love."
You released him and brought a hand over to grab Steven's neck before using your grip to pull him back to his previous position above you. "Then fuck me, Steven. I need you to fuck me," you whispered.
Steven wasted no time in grabbing his length and lining himself up with your entrance. "Are you sure?" he checked in with you once more.
You jerked your hip in the direction of his cock in an effort to fill yourself up but to no avail. You were so damn desperate you didn't care how you sounded. "Yes Steven, please, I need you to fill me up. Fill me up baby, c'mon," you whined hurriedly.
"Well who am I to deny you of what you want, love?" he replied before slowly guiding himself into you.
He immediately groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. "Heavens, love, you're so—aghh—tight," he grunted.
Your moans were never-ending as he sunk into you inch by inch. The stretch was briefly painful but it hurt so good you didn't care.Steven stopped halfway in and leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart," he praised you.
You bit your lip at his praise. "More, Steven, keep going."
Steven obliged and fully sunk into you with one last push. Your moans mixed in the air at the sudden change. "You feel so good inside me Steven, oh my God-" you cried out.
You nearly choked on air when Steven slowly pulled out of your heat before slamming back into you.
"SHIT," you both cursed together before opening your eyes to look at each other.
"Faster, baby, I can take it I promise," you nodded, bringing your hands up to the sides of Steven's face. You even wrapped your legs around Steven's waist.
Steven took a deep breath before pulling out and rutting into you again, now establishing a pace. Which every thrust inside your cunt, Steven grazed your g-spot, effortlessly. It was as if you were built for his cock.
"Fuckin' love the way you fuck me, Steven," you mumbled as Steven set a brutal pace inside you.
Steven leaned down to press his forehead against yours as he continued to fuck you. Your breathing seemed to sync as he pulled out moan after moan from you.
His hands rested at the sides of your head but you could feel them inching closer to your neck.
Your pussy clenched around him at the thought of him choking you. Steven faltered in his thrusts in response. "Love you're squeezing me so hard I don't think I'm gonna last."
"Do it," you called out, tilting your head toward one of his hands.
"What?"
"I can see you thinking about it. Choke me, baby," your chest heaved as you felt your third orgasm of the night approaching.
Steven hesitated for a second before he stopped his thrusts and brought a shaky hand to wrap around your throat.
"I trust you, Steven," you spoke truthfully, "I want this too," you brought a hand to rest over Steven's briefly in reassurance.
Steven began roughly pounding you again with his hand now squeezing around your neck.
"Fuck yes, holy shit," you breathed out, feeling your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head with the newly added feeling of Steven's large hand wrapped around your throat. making you see stars.
Steven, although shocked by your immediate enjoyment of his secret guilty pleasure, took it as a sign to continue. So he trusted faster but made sure to maintain the same amount of pressure on your neck. He then got the idea to use his free hand to reach down and fiddle with your clit while fucking you.
You were instantly thrown over the edge. You came with as best a scream of Steven's name as you could manage with his hand still choking you. Chills ran down your spine while Steven slowed his thrusts inside you and waited for your orgasm to pass.
Eventually, you felt Steven release your neck and slowly begin to remove his cock from your cunt. You tightened your legs around his waist in protest. "Uh uh, we're not stopping till you come inside me, Steven," you demanded.
Steven loved the way you'd been taking control throughout all of this. He'd do anything you asked without a thought. "That's fine with me love," he nodded with a lopsided grin.
"Good," you deeply inhaled before using your hold on his waist to roll him onto his back, with you now straddling him.
You smiled at his shocked expression, which soon morphed into excitement. "You're bloody amazing," he grinned up at you.
You fought the heat that crawled onto your cheeks at his words and looked away with a smile. "Stop sweet talking me and fuck me, Steven."
He nodded quickly, "Yes ma'am." Steven slipped back into your entrance slowly.
But you grew impatient and fully sat down on his cock, loving how full he made you feel. Steven's cries met your ears soon after.
You grabbed his hands and placed each on one of your breasts before beginning to properly ride him. Steven heeded your directions and pawed at your chest while thrusting up to meet your hips.
His grunts soon became whimpers and whines as you rode him harder and faster, eager to make him cum.
"I'm almost there, love," he cried before sitting up and pulling you into his chest. His hands moved down to grip your waist where he guided you faster along his cock.
"There you go, Steven," you held his face against your own as his pace grew sloppy and his brown eyes slid shut.
"Cum for me, baby," you softly spoke with one last grind of your hips. Steven halted inside you with a broken sob of your name and filled you up with his warm release.
You moaned at the feeling of his spend coating your inner walls and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You did so good Steven."
"I love you," his eyes finally opened while he panted, looking up at you with vulnerable eyes as if scared that you wouldn't feel the same after what you had just done together.
"I love you too," you replied without hesitation. You gently shoved Steven onto his back and followed suit, laying down on his chest as you gently removed his softening cock from inside you. You felt his hands move to wrap around your body soon after, bringing you further into his body.
Steven was the first to speak after some time. "I think you're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time," he admitted, turning to look at you, not at all phased by the exhaustion in your features.
You leaned up to meet Steven in a heated kiss. He tightened his hold on you and met your lips with equal fervor. You pulled away reluctantly and looked down at his face with furrowed brows as you used a hand to trace his jaw and swollen lips. "Where have you been hiding my entire life, Steven Grant?"
"Haven't been hiding, love. I've just been here waiting for you."
° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
WHEW! This ABSOLUTELY got away from me holy shit. 6k words? yeah, not the plan at all. But hey it's definitely something considering that I haven't been able to sit down and write anything till tonight.
So I really do hope you enjoyed it.
(Lemme go look back through my requests and see what else I can cook up.)
2K notes · View notes
ilys00ga · 20 days
Text
𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲.
Tumblr media
➞ pair: yoongi x female reader.
➞ word count: 1k
➞ synopsis: "yoongi and reader making a meal together for yoongi's parents" with a little bit of a domestic twist.
➞ genre: established relationship, husband!yoongi, dad!yoongi, just fluffy fluff fluff, they cook together, dad!yoongi, nothing goes wrong, dad!yoongi, just pure happiness, they also call it tooth-rotting fluff lol, did I mention: DAD!YOONGI ???, they have a babygirl uwu <33
➞ A/N: first off, thank u anon for sending me this super cute prompt, I loved it and had sm fun writing it!! second, EID MUBARAK TO MY FELLOW MUSLIMS OUT THEREEE <3 this is my lil gift for yall on this eid. it wasn't supposed to be this long tbh, and I haven't written anything for over a month, so, sorry if this is kind of messy and all over the place??? im trying to get my sht together again. but I really liked the prompt and!!! had to write it!!!! kkk enjoy bbys <3
ps. any form of feedback is reallyyyy appreciated. I live for compliments :) !
★ MASTERLIST.
ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
It was one warm spring morning.
Yoongi was back from a long series of concerts just a couple of days ago. Grateful to be finally home with the two people that mean the absolute world to him. Your cat was purring on his chest as the two of you laid on the bed, enjoying the quiet of Saturday that had just begun, when his mother called to announce that, later that evening, she and his father would be coming over.
One thing led to another, and there you stood with your husband in the kitchen. One was chopping ingredients up by the stove, the other handling a mixer. Your two years old baby girl, Nara, was sitting in her high chair somewhere away from the oven and any other harmful thing. What used to be your favorite playlists playing ever so softly in the background as you fixed yourselves your favorite meals, together, was replaced with the mindless blabbering of your sweet baby girl instead, playing with the wooden spoon you had given her to play with some minutes before.
“Is this good?” Yoongi dipped the tip of his finger into the mixture he’s been working on, and carefully brought it up to your lips. You hummed in satisfaction as soon as the flavors hit your taste buds, a little bit taken aback at how he nailed your mother’s secret recipe only in the first try, “Great. You’re getting so good at this, Yoonie. I think you should take over kitchen duties very soon.”
He snorted, “If that means I’ll never have to do the laundry ever again, then sure.”
Feigning annoyance, you hissed at him, “You’re so lazy.”
“No one likes doing laundry, honey. Not even you.”
"You're so annoying."
Your daily bickering banters were disturbed by the sound of his phone ringing from the other room. He left to take the call, leaving you with your noisy little baby. The chef hat she had on her head–Yoongi's idea, by the way, along with the tiny apron she wore as well–was almost too big on her. It made her look a thousand times more adorable that you immediately started grinning and cooing when she looked up at you.
"And what about you chef? Are you having fun?"
She balled her fists up and raised them in the air, wiggling in her seat to let you know that she wanted to be picked up. Being the ever so whipped mom that you were, you scooped her up in your arms right away, and peppered kisses all over her chubby face. Her giggles seeped through your skin and locked into your bones, aching with a sickeningly utmost adoration.
“Mom said they’re almost here.” Said Yoongi upon entering the kitchen, putting his phone atop the table and smiling as soon as his eyes fell on the two of you—his girls.
“Are you being a good chef assistant, baby?” He cooed, kissing her cheek, then leaning in to leave a peck on your lips.
“She’s been blabbering her life off the whole time you were gone." you hummed.
“Mom is going to have a good time conversing with her this evening.”
“We’re almost done cooking now.” You reminded him, “Honey, check on the oven please.”
“Right.”
A wave of heat hit his face as soon as he opened the oven, but he smiled once he checked on the muffins, “they are done.”
When he took the tray out and swiftly put it on the counter, Nara erupted in a fit of loud blabber, flailing the arm that clutched on the wooden spoon in the air and almost smacking your face in the process.
It had your husband giggling, of course. He couldn’t help but join in and engage with her blather, how could he not when he got such an adorable chatterbox for a child? “Huh, Nini? The muffins are done! Yeah!”
He took her into his arms, allowing you to go check on the stewpot that was still boiling on the stove, before bringing her to have a look at the tray of the mouth watering muffins, and cheered, “look!”
Your heart, yet again, swooned, almost oozing out of your ribs with how tight your chest grew to be at the sound of your baby’s joyful squeals. She was all excited as her daddy showed her around the process of cooking the dinner for her grandparents.
Nara was having the time of her life. For some reason, she's always loved being in the kitchen. Yoongi once made a comment about her becoming a successful chef, which then turned into a long, heartwarming talk about your daughter and her future. The gentle smile Yoongi had on his face throughout that was one to die for, especially when he sulked about not wanting your babygirl to grow up. His pout was so intense, you ended up engulfing him in a bone crushing hug for almost half an hour.
It was moments like this one that you wished were pictures so you could cut them up and hide them. Somewhere deep inside your heart. Forever. That's how you often found yourself observing and admiring every single interaction your husband made with your baby, and that’s how you ended up listening attentively as he continued to talk so passionately and earnestly with her, while simultaneously attempting to work with his free arm to the best of his abilities.
She, at one point, got so ecstatic that she accidentally thrusted her arm forward and hit him in the face with that spoon. But he only turned to look at you with an affectionate smile.
Struggling through a fit of giggles, you slipped the wooden object from her grasp and gave her a big kiss; making sure to squish her doughy cheeks—a trait that she definitely got from her father, “No more hitting mama and papa for you!”
The little girl’s squeaks only got louder as she reached out with her arms towards you, addressing you with more words of her very own and special language.
“Family hug?” you asked, glancing at a grinning Yoongi.
“Family hug!” He wrapped his free arm around you, bringing your body closer so that Nara could get a hold of you as well, then added, “but let’s make it a short one or else my parents are going to come to a burnt dinner.”
738 notes · View notes