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#today i bring you self indulgence
thehappiestgolucky · 2 years
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You have no idea the vicious grip they have on my brain rn
I am. 👌 this close. to planning out a fucking fic about them based on a two second interaction. they mean everything to me
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gale-in-space · 3 months
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Okay looks like we got a resounding yes as to whether or not I should post my Bladeweave on the moon pic lol. My coffee hasn't kicked in yet so I'm posting this before I become lucid and start second-guessing myself. Here ya go:
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I blame @rattusn0rvegicus for coming up with this idea and then pestering me to draw it haha. But tbh it was super fun and I actually like how it turned out even though it doesn't make compositional sense.
Hold onto your wizard before he floats away, Wyll!
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dizzybizz · 5 months
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can i interest you in some of my ryuu screenshots.. a bit of a ryuu appreciation post if you will...
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his design is so .. simple n kinda basic but he has so much charm,, i'm endlessly charmed by him it's literally so embarrassing... he is just very endearing and cute 👉👈 what a polite young man
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and here is me trying to get a clean screenshot of this pose without the dialogue box, a saga:
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i'm sad to say that this saga has no real conclusion (yet...) the wind-up animation is long enough for him to start babbling so i'm doubtful i will ever capture the screenshot i want. anyway i love this guy more than i could've ever prepared myself for 😭
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microwave-core · 11 months
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SWSH Headcanons
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I love sword and shield and the chokehold these characters have on me, but if I ever tried to write dialogue for most of them I would have a stroke, so have this instead.
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I’ve written a bit for Sonia before, but there is one point that I completely forgot to bring up, and that is how absolutely excited she is to share her research and discoveries with you. She loves her job (most of the time), and is absolutely going to blab to you about it, so be prepared.
You don’t have to understand everything she’s saying, you likely won’t, but that’s okay. Just listening and trying your best to work through what she’s saying will be enough for her. Feel free to ask as many questions as you want, she will answer each and every one of them with incredible enthusiasm. But if you understand what she’s talking about, she would fucking ascend on the spot from happiness.
Please have a girl's night with her. Get holed up in her room while spilling trashy gossip all night while painting each other’s nails over cheap wine, she’ll love you forever. She’d jokingly ask if you had a crush on anyone when you’re already dating and act all innocent and teasing about it, like, “aww, you had a crush on me??” when you’ve literally been dating for years.
Yamper goes everywhere Sonia goes. You can expect him to be begging at your feet whenever you meet up with her, wanting nothing more than for you to bend down and shower him in love and affection. He’s a good boy and he knows it. Sonia might send him off to fetch you when she’s busy, so please trot behind him slowly. He wants to lead you there and doesn’t want to fall behind.
I’ve brought this up before, but Leon would be so supportive. Sonia is his bestie, so when you get into a relationship, he wants to meet you as soon as possible. Man just loves his friends and is so happy when they get into loving, meaningful relationships. He also knows a lot about you because Sonia has gushed about how much she loves you to him on several occasions. He can seem kind of intimidating with his status and all, but he’ll definitely end up thinking highly of you.
And I have to mention Hop as well, because he’s also very supportive. He takes it upon himself to be Sonia’s wingman when she’s pinning. When Leon’s not available, she’ll blab to Hop instead. The second you meet, he begins planning your wedding. Be prepared. 
But that’s not all, because Nessa is also Sonia’s bestie. She’s the only one of the three that you really have to worry about, as she won’t hesitate to speak her mind if she has any kind of issue with you, but she ultimately knows how much you mean to Sonia, and so she has no choice but to be supportive. Anyways, if Sonia takes too long to confess her feelings for you, she’ll get Leon and Hop together to form a plan to make it happen. Sonia is mortified.
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Nessa… Need I say more? She is the woman of all time, with one of, if not the, best design in the entire series. She’s gorgeous, she’s powerful, she’s described as having an “indomitable nature”, what more do I have to say?
Unfortunately, as both a model and a gym leader, she’s a busy gal, always running to and fro to get work done. She’ll always try to squeeze in time for you, but that doesn’t always work out, much to her dismay. It also means that many, many people are going to be jealous of you. This goes for all of the gym leaders and champion as well, considering they are essentially celebrities in Galar, but Nessa may as well be in a league of her own.
Many people have crushes on Nessa, both young and old alike, so finding out that she’s taken is a crushing blow. You’re gonna end up with weirdos that hate your guts for daring to date their crush, which sucks. But on the other hand, you’ll also have weirdos who are completely obsessed with you and  your relationship and want to know every little intimate detail. You decide which is worse.
Speaking of being a model, expect to be roped into a photoshoot every now and then. Nessa loves you and thinks you are drop-dead gorgeous, so, naturally, she’s not above pulling some strings to fit in a shoot or two with you. Expect to at least have a Valentines photoshoot every year, since it’s the most obvious way to show off how great of a couple you two are. 
Nessa yearns for the ocean. Having grown up in a sea-side town with fishermen for parents, she’s used to floating out into the ocean and just relaxing. When she’s feeling stressed and pent up, she’ll drift out into the blue abyss with one of her pokemon, staring into the sky above while being rocked gently by the waves. She’d love it if you joined her sometime.
She also really likes fishing. She often comes back to her roots, which leads her to pulling out the full fishing ensemble, “fish fear me women want me” hat included, and getting onto a dinky boat to sail off into the middle of the ocean to fish for hours on end. You are asked to join her on these trips, but they aren’t super exciting unless you absolutely love fishing.
She has pictures of you everywhere. In her gym locker, in her wallet, on her phone, around her house, in Sonia’s lab, everywhere. They’re almost entirely pictures that she’s taken, too. While she is by no means a photographer, she knows a few things about taking good pictures from modeling, and loves to use that knowledge to take wonderful pics of you (not that you don’t look wonderful all the time). Her phone’s lockscreen and wallpaper are also pictures of you, obviously.
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So I don’t have a sword so I am not as familiar with Bea, but her design alone is enough for me to write for. 
Girly pop is stoic, but she’s not unbreakable. It’s not the easiest task, but it’s absolutely worth your time to make her smile and laugh. That being said, it makes her very embarrassed and flustered, so please spare her and her image and only do so when in private.
She thinks about you a lot. Bea’s been trained to remain calm and collected, even in tense situations, which makes it difficult for opponents to read her in the heat of the moment. Little do they know she’s just thinking about what her girlfriend is up to at the moment. Were you doing alright? Were you in the stadium watching her match? Were you cheering her on? She hopes so.
Is not above using you to indulge in her love of sweets. She has the biggest sweet tooth in the league, but has a hard time actually eating them without garnering too much attention. So, when she wants to have something sweet, she’ll bring you with her and play it off like it was your idea, therefore she was just following you and being a good girlfriend and not just getting dessert.
Training never stops with this one. She works out all the time, and will invite you to come sometimes. Her training is incredibly rigorous, though, so you likely won’t be able to keep up. Sitting on the sidelines and cheering her on or helping her workout in some kind of way are more than acceptable in her mind. Easiest way to help her is to sit on her back while she does push ups, it helps her workout while also getting to be close with you. Don’t expect her to be talking too much, though.
Her training sometimes brings her to remote locations in the region, and she sometimes forgets to warn you ahead of time. You might spend your entire day trying to get ahold of her and asking others if they’ve seen her, only to receive a text from her hours later that just reads like “ out training”, no further elaboration. 
Bea’s a tad bit touch starved, so she thrives off of your affection. However, she’s not very good at vocalizing her wants, so it falls to you to notice her longing stares. She wants to hold your hand and cuddle and sling her arm around your shoulder when sitting close, but she’s too nervous to initiate on her own due to her lack of experience.
 Her only ask is that you keep your relationship pretty lowkey in public. PDA makes her a little uncomfortable, both because she’s shy with affection and also because she knows people are watching. Hand holding is as far as you are gonna get with her before she breaks a little inside.
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Melony my beloved. They did not have to cake her up so much but goddamn I am not complaining because ahjdkgh milf. She’s hot and also incredibly caring and sweet and supportive. 
First things first: you have to get along with her kids. This is non-negotiable. She already has a rocky relationship with one of her children, she doesn’t need to jeopardize that relationship further, or the one’s with her daughters, for any reason, even for love. It’s a lot to suddenly have five step-kids, especially if you don’t have any kids to begin with, but if you aren’t willing to at least try, Melony isn’t going to be sticking around.
She doesn’t want to overwhelm you too quickly, but meeting her children is something she wants to happen early in the relationship. Once things get serious, she’ll invite you over for dinner which, surprisingly, goes very well, with little family drama being drudged up in the process. It takes a monuementous amount of effort to convince Gordie to come over, but he does, reluctantly. It’s probably pretty stressful because, uh, if you mess up then your relationship is toast, but it’s worth it in the end. 
Also, congrats, by doing the bare-minimum, you become Gordie’s favorite mom. This is by default, considering the previously mentioned rocky relationship he has with Melony. She’s just happy that Gordie isn’t upset about her hopping back into the dating scene, same with her daughters, and that they actually like you.
Not normally what I write about with these, or write about in general, but, when it comes to arguments, Melony can be a little difficult because she’s used to being the one in charge. Most of her arguments are with her own children, over both silly and important matters alike, and so she’s used to taking the perspective of “mother knows best”. It’s never her intention to control or demean you, but it can easily come off like that. If you bring it up to her, she’ll do her best to work it out of her mindset (communication is important kids). Not to say that arguments happen often, of course, but they can be incredibly annoying to deal with when they crop up.
Melony loves to cook, and would love to both cook for and with you. It’s maternal instinct to make sure you’re well fed, there’s simply no way around it. Expect her to make you adorably packed lunches and plenty of home cooked dinners. You’ll almost always end up with leftovers, since she’s used to cooking for five people. But she’d love it if you joined her in the kitchen for some quality bonding. If you’re lucky, she might even show you how to make the snomlette. 
It’s honestly incredible that she has time to do so many things for you and her children along with her duties as gym leader with time to spare. It’s the mom magic.
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Marnie, despite being punk, is shy and sweet in equal measures. Even as a gym leader, she has a streak of being a little stand-offish and awkward. That’s not to say that she’s meek or a push-over, or that she gets nervous in front of a crowd. She’s just easy to fluster and is usually on the quieter side.
Like many others, Marnie’s got a lot on her plate. Of course, she’s got her duties as a gym leader to tend to, but she’s also working on restoring Spikemuth to its former glory. These don’t just eat up her time, they also leave her tired. Please hold your arms out for her to fall into when she walks through the door after a long day, it’s her favorite way to recharge. 
Morpeko loves you more than anyone else, a blessing you should be thankful for. He’s kinda like a cat, in that he can be very sweet at times and an asshole at others. Oh, and he shows his love through biting. He likes Marnie well enough, but she’s not safe from being bitten or scratched. You, however, are a different story, as he seems to always be sweet when you’re around. Marnie’s convinced he does it out of spite.
Keeping up with the theme of “talking about other character’s important to this specific character”, Piers. He wants the best for his baby sister, considering that he basically raised her and all, but he doesn’t even try to be overprotective or intimidating. Does it sting to watch Marnie grow up, seeing her get into her first real romantic relationship? Of course. But he knows that she’s got a good head on her shoulders, so he sees no reason to butt into her relationship. 
He’s an overall chill guy with a lot more time on his hands since he’s no longer a gym leader. As long as you’re chill, he’s chill, and won’t mind your company. Hell, he might even start looking forward to hanging out with you, thinking of you as part of the family, when you’ve known each other for long enough. The only issue he might have with you is your music taste.
This is a bit more general, but I like to think that Marnie and Hop are good friends. They didn’t know each other too much during the gym challenge, since all they really had was a common friend/rival, but they actually got to know each other once the champion cup was over. It’s not super easy to hang out since they’re both striving towards their own goals, but they find a way.
It’s funny, because I don’t think they would have much in common outside of their music taste, but they’re still friends who hang out and complain to one another. While he’s dropped his dream of being champion, Hop still gets excited over the gym challenge every year and loves to watch her matches. Marnie’s not the most knowledgeable when it comes to pokemon research, but she finds it all interesting and tries to lend a hand. She’s not that helpful. She also is the only person preventing Hop and Bede from throwing hands when they run into each other.
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Oleana is the pinnacle of “very busy and very tired”. Gatekeeping, gaslighting, and girlbossing all day takes a great deal of time and effort. She’ll trudge home and fall face first into the couch, perfectly content to call it a night if you don’t step in and make her come to bed.
She loves the chairman dearly, but he also stresses her out immensely. There’s really no point in going out to meet loyal fans on the way to business meetings, but that doesn’t stop Rose from doing that anyways. She badgers him to the best of her ability, but he still takes his sweet time. While she appears composed, she’s screaming internally, waiting until she can go home and scream about it externally when venting to you.
Speaking of the chairman, it seems as if she cares more about him than she does you at times, but she does her best to reassure you otherwise. The chairman is, unfortunately, her priority due to being her boss, but that’s more about admiration than love. Consider the fact that he (unintentionally) makes her incredibly stressed, whereas you don’t. That alone gives her a reason to love you.
Also consider that the idea of coming home to you at the end of the day is part of what keeps her going. Sure, her job is stressful, considering the fact that she is essentially the backbone of the Macro Cosmos company, but she always gets through the day because she gets to see you once it’s all said and done. The tension within her bones dissipates upon walking through the doorway. Hold her in your arms, brush your fingers through her hair, get shitty take out to eat over trashy TV that neither of you are really watching, and you’ll win her heart in an instant.
While she shows her more… aggressive side to you when ranting passionately about all the issues involved with her job, she reverts back to her poised and punctual state whenever in public. Due to her professional nature, expect little PDA. The most you’ll get is hand holding. Unless she’s jealous, at which you’ll get a hand wrapped around your hip which grips just a little too tight until she calms down.
Date nights are typically spent indoors unless she has a day off, which is incredibly unlikely to happen. Firstly, she wants to rant, and she can’t do that in public without destroying her public image. And secondly, she’s tired of dealing with people given how much shit and disappointment she has to deal with throughout the day. You get her, so why would she want to be around anyone else?
Also! Garbador is an absolute sweetheart. She knows how much you help Oleana and that makes her so happy. She tries to show her affection but is a little awkward about it because she doesn’t want to gross you out since she’s… literally made of trash. She usually just watches from afar, all smiley and happy to see you two being happy, getting embarrassed if you catch her doing so.
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Sooo I wasn’t originally gonna write anything for Klara because, again, I don’t have sword and am not as familiar with her as I am Bea, but thoughts started rolling so here we are. Also kinda toxic behavior incoming because it’s Klara.
Girl is a pop star, or is at least trying to be one, which means she’ll naturally write love songs about you. And by love songs I mean songs that describe how much she loves you but are also not really love songs because they’re lowkey toxic? Listen, it’s Klara, what else do you expect when that is literally her thing. She also has songs about her exes, which contain… worrying content, but that’s neither here nor there.
In general? Don’t break her heart. She will key your car and slash your tires and will attempt to instigate physical fights and will also write a song about you and how much she hates you and all of the things she hopes happen to you. Again, it’s Klara. But if she loves you with her whole heart and soul, then you have nothing to worry about. She’ll be more than happy to do all those things towards people you don’t like instead.
She's not the best at showing her love. Her goal in life was always to be loved by everyone around her without having to do much in return, but your existence has disturbed that goal because she actually really likes you and actually wants to try for you? And she kind of hates that, and it takes her a while to even figure out what the hell was wrong with her, and she ends up resenting you for a hot minute for making her feel so weird.
But she gets over that and decides to put in actual effort into your relationship, trying to be a better person both for you and herself. She takes the time to listen to you and work out your likes and dislikes, and puts effort into coming up with cute date nights, and does her best to be there for you when you’re down or need to get something off of your chest. Just normal girlfriend things. She’ll never admit to changing how she acts, though. This unintentionally turned into an “I can fix her” post whoopsie.
Klara loves to take pictures of herself and photoshop them, so expect to be sent most, if not all, of them. Sometimes, she just thinks she’s looking exceptionally cute and just needs to share her hotness with someone else. She also expects you to send pictures back in return, as it’s only fair. Like Nessa, she has a large portfolio of pics she’s both snapped and received of you.
Anyways, Klara posts shit like “I love doing wifey shit for my girlfriend <3” while burning down the kitchen trying to make you scrambled eggs.
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I also originally wasn’t going to write anything for Peonia but I had a change of heart because, after thinking of it, I couldn’t not write embarrassingly supportive supreme dad-of-the-year Peony hyping her up.
Peonia’s biggest mistake in life was coming out to her dad, because the man is simply too supportive. The moment she tells him this vital information, he is searching every store and market for all of the lesbian flags he can find. She has an entire pile of them in her room because she literally doesn’t have any space on the walls to hang them on. He also sews smaller ones onto her clothes and jackets upon being asked to do so,
If he ever sees her talking to another girl, he’ll ask about her afterwards. He just needs to know if she’s into this new person he’s never met before. Peonia always tells him off in an attempt to subdue her embarrassment. Thankfully, he at least waits until the other girl leaves, or else she would literally combust.
That being said, don’t think you can date Peonia without Peony putting up an overprotective fight. At the end of the day, that’s his baby. His darling. His pride and joy. Sure, she’s grown up and is more than capable of making her own choices in life, including her choice in romantic partner, but he’s still her father. He just needs to make sure you have her best interest in mind, then he’ll back off.
But once you’ve gotten past the over-protective dad phase, you get yourself a new father figure. He’ll come to think of you as one of his own. He’ll also provide you with plenty of embarrassing childhood stories. At some point, he’ll start referring to you as his daughter-in-law. Every minute you spend talking with him makes Peonia rip her hair out. Again, Peonia is happy that her dad is supportive of her sexuality and your relationship, but she’s also on the verge of dying from embarrassment.
Even though she is incredibly embarrassed by her father’s antics, she can be super supportive and exciting when it comes to doing anything with you. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and when she realizes how she acts similarly to her father when it comes to spending time with you, she dies a little inside.
Enough about dad. Please go with her on Dynamax Adventures. Not only does she have a blast with them, but she can show off how cool and strong she is as a trainer. Please swoon over her and how cool and brave she is, being as dramatic as humanly possible. RIP to your teammates who are forced to third-wheel on the adventure, but at least Peonia is having fun.
Also, please help dye her hair. The pink looks great but it was a pain to do by herself, and she’s too embarrassed to ask her dad for help. Besides, it means you get to hang out and she gets your input on what color to use. 
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vampyriix · 1 year
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I love drawing environments (lies)
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deus-ex-mona · 2 years
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happy fake star friday~?
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etherealspacejelly · 6 months
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sometimes you just have to let yourself be a bit neurodivergent.
i hate going out, it gives me a lot of anxiety and sensory input that i dont like, and i am often forced to talk to people.
so i do this thing on more difficult days, or sometimes just for fun, where i "bring a fictional character with me". i walk and imagine Fictional Character walking next to me. they talk to me, reassure me, hype me up, whatever i need them to do.
today dean winchester came christmas shopping with me. he went over the list with me of stuff i needed to get, told me i was doing a good job every time i finished in a certain shop, reminded me to take a deep breath when i got a little overwhelmed.
and yea. its kinda silly. and i know its just me talking to myself in a different voice, but it Works! especially since all of my special interests/hyperfixations tend to be tv/movie related.
so do what you gotta do to Get Shit Done. stop holding yourself to neurotypical standards. if you need Fictional Character to tell you you're doing a good job, do it! if you need Favourite Singer to walk you to school, do it! yea it might feel silly but you're literally fighting against your own brain to get stuff done every single day. you can have a little self indulgent daydream, as a treat.
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sttoru · 7 months
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‘i told you once, that only two things will have me; you and death.’
☀︎|tags. gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. themes of insecurity: trust issues kinda (by reader). reader gets called ‘baby, princess, angel’. self indulgent. proof read? whats that
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“aww, there’s my hardworking girl,” satoru coos whilst his arms move to hold your body captive against his chest in a much needed hug, “and she’s still lookin’ as pretty as ever! my god — c’mere.”
your over-excited lover cups your face in his hands and holds it like that for a second to admire. his thumb slides from your cheekbone to your lips, gently parting them before pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. of course, he doesn’t leave it by that. satoru never does.
“pretty,” a kiss on your right cheek — “beautiful,” a kiss on your left one — “gorgeous,” a kiss on the tip of your nose — “amazing”, a kiss on your forehead — “sweetest,” a kiss on your chin — “lovely”, a kiss on the top of your head;
maybe it was the stress of the previous days that made you tear up. satoru has made it a daily routine: you come home, he welcomes you with open arms, showers you with his unending love and attention until you physically have to pull him away from your body. you sometimes ask yourself what you did to deserve someone so loving.
if satoru had heard you say the latter out loud, he would have kissed your mouth again to shut the thought down instantly. ‘you deserve everything and more’, you silently recall him saying once.
“stop that.” you mutter. the ‘that’ referring to the butterfly kisses and tight hugs he’s giving you. you tried not to seem in the mood for receiving his affection today. the muffled giggles leaving through your gritted teeth tell another story however.
“nu-uh,” satoru lets out a low chuckle, going right back to giving you what you deserve, “it’s like you’re askin’ me to stop breathing, baby. i can’t just not do this.”
satoru lifts you up into his strong arms and brings you over to the kitchen counter, settling you there - somewhere away from all that he had been cooking since the morning. he’s grinning from ear to ear, glancing from the covered plates near the stove and back to you.
you tilt your head curiously as you watch satoru grab one plate and uncover it, revealing the content like it was a big surprise—
“open up f’me, my princess.” your lover hums as he’s already guiding a piece of cake to your lips. your favorite cake which he had oh-so-obviously cooked himself judging by the messy look of it. your gaze lingers on the piece for a second to appreciate the gesture.
when you look back up at satoru, his eyes are already on yours — patiently waiting for you to let him feed you. his blue eyes are sparkling with a sense of pure excitement; one he only has around you. his love for you was almost overwhelming at times like these.
“why?”
the simple, one word question made the white sorcerer stop in his tracks. his head cocks to the side, eyelashes fluttering lightly in confusion, though the handsome smile on his face remains. ‘why’ could mean a lot of things in this context; why do you want to feed me? why do you want me to eat this? why should or even would i?
out of all the possible interpretations, satoru knew the exact one you had meant the moment he saw the tears that welled up at the corners of your eyes; ‘why do you care so much?’
“do i need a reason to?” his voice was smooth and soft. almost way too soft now that he’s realised just how vulnerable you were in front of him. satoru’s smile only widens, however — the sight of his girlfriend being overwhelmed by his affection was one he couldn’t resist.
it’s part of your charm. the charm you don’t know about; the charm that made the gojo satoru fall head over heels for you. your lover shakes his head with a light-hearted laugh, putting the slice of cake back down on the plate so he could hold your hands in his.
“i love you, yeah?” he kisses the back of your hands with utmost care before planting another one on your forehead again. satoru cradles your head against his chest afterwards, making you rest your weary body against his for as long as you needed it; his warmth and comfort, “it’s because i love you. that’s the only reason why, angel.”
you just nod in response — needing a moment of silence to recover, which satoru grants you without it having to be asked verbally. it’s like he knows just what goes on in your little head and is always updated about your changing feelings.
that’s what surprises you most. satoru’s super attentive to every single detail about you. from your unnoticeable habits to the big facts. that is what love truly is. that is how it feels like to have a man love you unconditionally—without any underlying or ulterior motives. without expecting anything back.
“i love you too, ‘toru. forever.” you reply eventually in a hushed whisper. the sorcerer only tightens his grip around your body, hugging you closer to his chest like his personal plushie. he nuzzles his nose into your hair — your scent both relaxing yet addicting.
“yeah,” satoru sighs in content and closes his eyes—allowing them to rest. all his senses are focused on making you feel better. he won’t let go of you until he’s sure you understand that you’re deserving of it all; his loving hugs, kisses, words of affirmation, gifts, comfort, cuddles and support.
“forever and beyond that.”
satoru doesn’t mind reminding you how much he cherishes you. even if he has to remind you every day until the day he succumbs. you’re his number one priority; he’ll even make sure to tell you he loves you with his dying breath when the time comes.
he’ll make sure of it.
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dearesmeray · 3 months
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Character Traits & Quirks (For Writers)
Peace and blessings upon everyone!
I hope life's treating you well. I’m Esmeray and I welcome you to this post on my blog Dear Esmeray.
Ever wondered what makes your OC truly unforgettable? I believe it is the character traits. Character traits are what bring a character to life, or else you just have a flat, one-dimensional everyman as your OC. So today I'll be sharing with you a list of character traits that I compiled to help you develop better OCs.
Positive Traits:
Agreeable
Brave
Caring
Cheerful
Confident
Cooperative
Creative
Dedicated
Devotion
Diligent
Disciplined
Dutiful
Easygoing
Efficient
Fairness
Forgiveness
Friendly
Funny
Generous
Hard-Working
Honest
Honorable
Humble
Kind
Leadership
Love of learning
Loyal
Passionate
Persuasive
Prudent
Principled
Punctual
Reasonable
Reliable
Respectful
Responsible
Self-regulation
Social Intelligence
Supportive
Trust-worthy
Well-mannered
Witty
Wise
Neutral Traits & Quirks:
Raises Eyebrows
Blinks rapidly
Avoids eye contact
Maintains eye contact
Blinks rapidly
Slouches
Stares off into the distance
Shrugs often
Touches their scars or wounds often
Chews lips
Paces around
Smiles a lot
Rarely smiles
Gestures with hands while speaking
Often is distracted
Hums
Negative Traits:
Absentminded
Abusive
Acts superior
Alcoholic
Aggressive
Always plays the victim
Aimless
Apathetic
Arrogant
Argumentive
Avoids their problems
Bossy
Blunt
Boring
Careless
Can't take criticism
Can't take a joke
Clumsy
Conceited
Controlling
Cunning
Childish
Cruel
Deceptive
Defiant
Demanding
Disloyal
Dishonest
Dramatic
Dependent
Disorganized
Disrespectful
Distracted easy
Extravagant
Envious
Forgetful
Greedy
Holds grudges
Makes up excuses for everything
Has a reason for why nothing is ever their fault
No accountability
Hostile
Hypopocrite
Immature
Impatient
Impractical
Impressionable
Impulsive
Insensitive
Irresponsible
Not a team player
Incompetent
Irritable
Inconsiderate
Indulgent
Insecure
Jealous
Know-It-All
Lazy
Liar
Loud
Manipulative
Makes everything about them
Makes everything a joke
Their way or the highway
Mean
Meddlesome
Messy
Naive
Nosy
Obnoxious
Obbssesive
Offended easily
Overdramatic
Overreacts
Patronizing
Power-hungry
Pretentious
Rebellious
Reckless
Rude
Sarcastic
Selfish
Sensitive
Stingy
Sexist
Spoiled
Stubborn
Superstitious
Talks over others/interrupts
Too loyal
Too forgiving
Undependable
Unreliable
Unsympathetic
Unorganized
Unreasonable
Violent
Weak
Remember, there are no one-dimensional characters in real life, and there shouldn't be in your stories either. The possibilities for your characters are endless – so get creative and have fun writing!
With Love, Esmeray ♡
1K notes · View notes
inupibaldspot · 3 months
Text
Even 12 years laters,your soul was in a color of kindness.
Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Reader
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : purely self indulgent which I wrote when I was drunk so— some stuffs are funky
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Gojo first met you when you where four.
He was five years old at that time too and was being escorted by a maid to go to the clan head meeting; he assumes you were also part of a clan brought by elders.
Normally, the white haired boy never really cared for other people. Why should he? He is the chosen one. He has the limitless technique plus the six eyes of the Gojo clan. He was the closest thing to God at this age. But today it was different.
He watched you turn your head around and stare at him, he could vividly remember the way your eyes shone with amazement either for something as superficial like his white hair or the fact he was recognized as The ‘Gojo Satoru.’
But after that amazement, you smiled. You smiled at him so bright, with the evening glow of sunlights made you so—so ethereal. Your smile was childish and that’s why it was simply pure; the white haired kid’s eyes silhouetted with the sunlight shone with surprise for he found you beautiful in ways he couldn’t describe.
Gojo looks away— he beat himself for looking away as that made him look standoffish. When he looks back, you were staring at him confused for why he didn’t greet you back.
The maid beside you turns and says something, as you nod and then walk away. Was it weird for Gojo to wish you would simply turn to him and introduce yourself? For years to come, he prayed that he’d love to hear your name; for your soul was in a color of kindness.
That chance came in twelve years later when he was a second year of his Jujutsu Tech. Him and his friends, Geto and Shoko wanted to meet the new first years. There is Nanami Kento, had a huge stick up his ass but that it self made him to be forever victim to Gojo’s pranks. Next was Haibara Yū, a bright eyed kid but Gojo found him to be a bit too— energetic for his taste.
And then you. I didn’t really need to describe Nanami and Haibara first because the first and only person he saw ever since he entered the first year’s classroom was you. Simply you. You sitting on the chair smiling bashfully at them. At him.
Ever since, every day. Without fail would rush to your side. At first you were confused as that is not the Gojo you remembered l; the one you saw and described to you by others were not this.
Nevertheless it warmed you up like a cool evening sun.
Gojo released quite early was you were kind, the type that would help others despite of her time , the type who would help every elderly by the street, the type who would feed strays and yada-yada-flowers and rainbows.
But that led to another realization. Had you truly different been treated differently?
Gojo's body tensed up. Any comfortable vibe he had felt before vanishing in an instant. He had known very well that you were a kind-hearted human being. Welcoming and warm. That made you so interesting. Your soul was so calm and simple and nice.
And even though he had observed you so closely before he wasn't able to recall any moment anymore where your own feelings had been obvious. You didn't stutter around boys.
You didn't blush. You didn't hesitate in a way which could be trailed back to her personal feelings.
Were you treating him like everyone else after all?
“Gojo?”
Your voice brought him back to sense, you were blinking curious, leaned close—so close.”what’s wrong?”
“Bring out your hand.” He smiles, as you did without question. “Guess the word I’m writing on your hand.” He smiles when the warmth from your hand soothe his nervous heartbeat.
“Eh—I’m not good at kanji!”
“That’s just too bad—!”
From then when ever Gojo feels anxious of everything—everything in this world he would play this game, with your fingers and her palm because his focus on you was more gravitating rather than that as you were simply too calming.
Geto felt slightly hesitant when he saw the type of Gojo he would become when he was by your side, he was a tad abit careless as if all of his six eyes were simply focused on you, he would be a tad bit kinder to the point Nanami gets the ick.
Where as Shoko had a blast!
She would make way towards you, give kisses on your cheeks gushing on how cute you were, wrapping her arms around you as she then sends a condescending look towards Gojo who was literally drowning in jealousy.
Shoko and you got close early on and more so because you two were the only two girls in those years. To the point where even a shy person like you was influenced to sneaking into a party with Shoko.
“Please don’t mess with my hair curler, Gojo.” You say as you look into the mirror, fixing your earring and from the corner of your eyes you could see Gojo holding up a lick of his hair into the hot iron.
Gojo peers over and immediately regrets it, you were in a short dress and high heel, hair curled so—cutely and boy, your face.
He looks away.
No, too cute.
He thought as he lets down the curling iron. Shoko peers out as she lets out a puff of smoke before passing it to Geto, who takes the cigarette in his hands. “Don’t tell me you want to come Gojo.” Shoko says. “I want a girls night.”
Gojo remember almost comically crying into his pillows as Geto nags him on ‘how woman don’t like clingy guys.’ He decides to forget Shoko and join you guys anyways.
He remembers being strangled by Shoko while you him a nervous smile trying to diffuse the situation.
Your nervous smile which made the world freeze to him, Geto sighs at the love sick look his white haired friend was giving you, who seemed so obvious to.
But don’t you remember when I said you were kind. You were kind like to help the cornered kid, the type who would volunteer to be with the loner kid, the type that picked Geto Suguru’s side.
Gojo sighs when when remembers Shoko saying you said something along the lines of ‘I don’t want Geto to be lonely along the path he takes…’
How stupid!
Gojo Satoru where ever he went would go around town mentally keeping sense of any cursed energy which could relay you back to him.
He meets you again though.
12 years later, while him and now—principle Yaga were walking along the hallways they sense a breach in security. He rushes over to first, see his once best-friend Geto Suguru by his current first year Okkotsu Yuta and secondly, you. Your eyes we’re nervously flying around before it lands on him and once again he was yours; Geto scoffs at the sight of Gojo’s expression when he was looking at you. He was almost worried that if you said ‘let’s join Geto’ with a plea—se, he just might. You just had that effect on Gojo.
But too bad, Geto was here to request war upon the Jujutsu Tech. On the 24 December, Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.
Gojo rushes through curses as he makes his way towards you; and when he does, he feels as if he can’t breath. “Can you come back…?” He takes a step closer.
You smile nervously,shaking your head as you watch him take another step closer to you, you felt his hands reach out and cup your face. His face was so close to yours, you could feel the warmth radiate off him in the cold winter air. “Don’t kill me for doing this.” You we’re reminded that you guys were enemies and in a battlefield.
His face was closer now, his blue—beautiful blue eyes were slightly closed. You breath out. “I can’t kill you through your ‘Limitless’ Satoru…”
“Say it again.”
“Huh…?”
“My name. Satoru…”
You breath out. “Satoru…” The name you accidentally let out, felt so right.
“Fuck… say it a million time more, love.” Gojo laughs, slightly hoarse. “My limitless is never activated when I��m with you…”
before you realize his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft, as you hands were tentatively placed on his chest, as his hand trails along to your waist you parts your lips for him, sighs in his mouth, and that small sound of pleasure drives him crazy, floods his body with heat and desire so intense the strongest sorcerer can hardly stand.
Your are pulled away from him, when a darker and tall man goes by. “Miguel!” Gojo listened to you say.
“I need you to focus.” The man says smiling, before he takes a stance to fight Gojo. And to Miguel credit, he does fend off Gojo well, so— well that he was ‘recruited’ by him.
The day ends with Gojo losing two of his best friends in different ways. Geto would be gone, into the afterlife ended by his own hands.
But you?
Where were you? Would he meet you again 12 years later? Love?
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silkythewriter · 4 months
Note
I had an idea for a few headcanons you could do if ya want—
Maybe Sir Pentious with a reader who is so obviously in love with him, and keeps pining over him while literally everyone else but Sir Pentious himself can tell they like him? Like he's just really oblivous until reader finally straight up tells him.
Sir Pentious with a clearly in love reader!(●’◡’●)❤︎︎
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Warnings!: Non!
Fandoms!:Hazbin hotel!
Author’s note!: HI HI OMG I LOVE SIR PENTIOUS HES SO SILLY!!!! I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS AS MUCH AS I DID
Summary!: reader who’s clearly in love with our favorite snake demon
❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! ❤️
☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆
“Call me, you can call me
Boy, just call me (call me, call me)
While you stalling, I'm evolving
I'd give all me”
☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆
!🐍✨Sir Pentious✨🐍!
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First of all, just to get out of the way, THIS MAN IS OBLIVIOUS!!!!, Autism be damned my boy can pull without even telling!!!!!
No but in all seriousness he is oblivious to your obvious longing for him.
Everyone can see you giving him shy longing stares only for him to be ranting about his latest invention. Not only would he not be able to tell but he’d always think your just being nice!
Of course he’s crushing hard behind his bedroom door to his little eggs. Happily stating and going on rambles of how gorgeous you looked today. He’d state everything! From the new hair style you tried to the new piece of clothing you bought and wore. When I mean he notices everything I mean it, but for some reason he can’t pick up on your obvious love for him.
The way he could stare in your eye as you tell him he looks breathtaking and still think you mean it just to be nice is astonishing. OF COURSE HES BLUSHING AND KICKING HIS TAIL, but he can’t bring himself to think you like him anymore than just friends!
He’d go to his egg boys and sadly rant on how you’ll only see him as friend. And the egg boys all share one Brain cell so they can’t tell you like him aswell!, maybe they might accidentally spill, or almost spill the secret of him liking you but he quickly knocks them away before you can make sense of what their saying.
All the residents watch as you do your best to drop hints only for him to complete miss it. Even angel cringes as he watches him completely be oblivious to the obvious flirting, it’s take Charlie and Vaggie to stop him from pointing out the obvious.
Husk almost always gives Sir Pentious as gaze of just utter confusion and tiredness.
He’d gladly take flowers from you that you gifted him and take care of it for weeks on end without realizing the romantic gesture!
Alastor, as always finds it humorous, although he usually doesn’t indulge himself in romantic like things he’s find it hilarious. “Even with three eyes he still can’t see the obvious! Ha!”
Charlie tries to help to the best of her ability to help guid him the right direction but it’s just end up with him more confused. Vaggie just face slaps internally,
honestly the whole crew wasn’t having high hopes for him as dim as that is. , look! He ain’t bad looking, but not many people would prefer his clumsy self, so they were honestly hoping he’d figure it out before you possibly moved on.
Even when your upset at the obvious frustrating situation he’s still be confused while trying to do his best to comfort you.
“Well I think the man isss clearly as dumb as a rock!”
It took you starring dead in his eyes for him to question if you were alright. Before you stated it was him
The way he just stood staring at you in pure disbelief, before snapping out of it and embarrassed as his previous words. But after the said embarrassment he’s full with giddy, why of course you love him!, he’s the great sir pentious!
Yea his embarrassment would quickly turn into pride, considering he got someone as beautiful as you to fall for him.
Definition of a clumsy gentlemen, he’d open doors so fast it’d smack him in the face, or pull when it’s a push door and be confused why it’s not opening.(´ω`💧)
He’s just a silly lil guy! (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)
I feel like the crew in the hotel would be relief to find he finally figured out.
At the end of the night he’s squealing like a high school girl as he rambles to his egg boys about you in a new light!.
He’s gift you small little trinkets or happily spend hours with you talking!
He’s as lovesick as your are! He’s just a bit dense when it comes to accepting the fact you love.
It’s like the roles switched! Now he’s daydreaming-ly staring at you happy to have you as his, and him a yours.
Like I’ve said before! He’s a total drama queen, he can’t help it!, deny him a kiss teasingly? He’s crumbling down to the ground and holding his chest as if he just had a heart attack! (¬_¬)
He’s not at all secretive of his love for you, even if he wants to, to keep his image “professional”, he just can’t help and dote on you!
overall he’s a big dote and softy even if he tries to hide it, loves you with his whole being! ( ˘ω˘ ) He can a be a bit over the top sometimes but you’ll come to accept it! And hey who wouldn’t want a silly snake demons who’s tripping over their tail for you. Yea you got him in and over his head but he wouldn’t have it any other way. The roles have truly reversed(≖ᴗ≖✿)
☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆
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I LOVE HIS SILLY LIL SELF SO MUCH MORE PEOPLE SHOULD WRITE FOR HIM :(. TYSM FOR THE REQUEST I LOVED IT SM!!!! PLEASE COME AGAIN!!
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lucidfairies · 6 months
Text
ride it [a.a]
pairing: gymrat!abby x pilates princess!reader
synopsis: abby normally enjoys going to the gym alone, but on the rare occasion that you ask to come, she never passes it up. (based on a tiktok I reposted!!)
warnings: heavily self indulgent on the reader part and my gym experiences, poc friendly, not exactly smut but SUGGESTIVE, subby abby
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"y/n, I'm going to the gym, be home later." abby yelled up the stairs, trying to get your attention from whatever you were working on up there.
"baby, can I come? I haven't gone in a while." you yelled back, hopping up from your spot on your guy's shared bed, quickly grabbing a workout set and stripping to get it on.
"if you change fast enough." she joked. the set was pink, just a bra and shorts, but it fit what you normally did at the gym, which was yoga or a pilates workout. it was nothing compared to abby, who did extensive lifting.
when you got downstairs, abby was leaning against the wall in a muscle tee and shorts, but her shirt happened to be pink as well. "we're matching." you grinned, pulling her attention from her phone as you gently pressed your hand to her chest, pushing up on your toes to kiss her softly.
the ride to the gym was relaxed; abby's hand gripping to your thigh as you hummed along to the songs on the radio and tried to find a good workout video.
the gym wasn't packed, which was good. you hated working out in front of other people, and you especially hated when other people looked at abby when you guys were working out together. "what are you working today?" you asked her as you walked in.
"legs. worst fucking day of the week." you rolled your eyes. "you should try some of the stuff I do. it could be fun, y'know?" you looked back at her as you opened the door to the locker room.
"abs... have you looked at your quads recently? I don't think I could do half the shit you do." abby grinned, like it was funny how much bigger she was compared to you.
"not with the same weight, dumbass. just the same exercise. please sweetheart, I promise it'll be fun." she tossed her bag in a locker with yours and locked it. you sighed.
"fine. but if I don't like it, I'm going back to what I had planned." abby grinned, grabbing your waist as you left the locker room.
you both warmed up on the treadmill, then she took you to various machines –the leg press, leg extension, hip abduction– and explained how to use them, then showed you while she did it. it was embarrassing how much weight you could do compared to her, but you couldn't quit now. you were almost having fun.
she brought you to the weight side of the gym, where most of the intense lifters went. that portion of the gym scared the shit out of you. she set up a bench and grabbed a bar, loading an obscene amount of weight onto it.
"these are called KAS hip thrusts, they work your glutes and stuff, I think." you stopped listening after that, consumed in the way she pulled the bar over her lap, held it in place, then thrust her hips up.
she did this every time she was at the gym? regardless of who was watching?
you couldn't tell how much weight was on each side, but that hardly mattered. you were spitting out words before you could even think of what you were saying. "you should do it with me on your lap." she set the weight down and looked up at you, cheeks rosey.
"baby.. I- uh, what if people watch?" she was a stuttering mess, at the thought of doing that to you in public. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad, but it would certainly get her worked up, that's for sure.
"what if?" you shrugged. abby complied, obviously, who is she to say no to you, and pushed the bar off of her lap, letting it roll forward.
you straddled her, legs on each side as she pressed her hands behind her head. "you got it, baby." your voice was low, attempting to throw her off her game. it did. she forgot for a moment what she was supposed to be doing until you raised your eyebrow, expediently.
abby's hips rose in the air, bringing you up with them, then slowly dropped, controlled. every time she lifted her hips, your ass pressed perfectly against her clit, and she was getting wetter by the rep. "shit, baby." abby groaned, keeping her hands locked behind her head so she didn't take you right now.
"c'mon abs, just a few more for me." you didn't know how many reps she did for this particular exercise, but four was hardly enough. you placed your hands gingerly under her shirt, just tracing lightly with your nail.
her hips stuttered, surely almost dropping you, but she kept going. when she finally got to her max raps, her hips fell roughly, and she panted, head in the crook of your neck and she tried to calm herself.. and her clit. "put your things away and meet me in the locker room shower." you smirked and stood up, leaving her wet and bothered.
safe to say she fucked you good after that.
tag list: @baumbii @tlouadditc @abbysvictim
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cordeliawhohung · 2 months
Text
uhm enjoy this totally self indulgent hurt/comfort pornstar!gaz x reader where you fake an orgasm on set (:
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Two hours isn’t an uncommon amount of time for a shoot. Even for the most experienced of actors, there are plenty of position changes, water breaks, and directions to be given that always bogs down film time in some capacity. You’re used to it. You’d been in that industry for years, so you know how to pass the time, especially when filming with Kyle. He always knows how to make you laugh, how to strike up a conversation as lights and camera angles are adjusted — it’s always nice with him. 
But something is different about today. It feels painfully long, like you’ve spent a majority of your day there rather than just a handful of hours. You’re more quiet than usual, and when Kyle attempts to strike up a conversation, your responses are just as empty as your eyes. A terrible glossiness has taken over their usual beautiful sheen, yet you still push through in all the obnoxious angles the director has you contort into in order to give the viewers the best visual possible. 
Kyle notices almost immediately. There’s something empty and numb in the way your body reacts to his touches. Your pretty moans sound dull when he pumps two thick fingers into you, and your brows don’t pinch together when he whispers in your ear. When he sinks his cock into your cunt after an overly drawn out foreplay period, you don’t flutter around him like you normally do. All your little tells — those delicious tells — have suddenly vanished off the face of the earth, leaving the studio feeling empty as he ruts into you. 
Really, you’re just glad your face is in the mattress while Kyle fucks you, because you don’t think you could look him in the eyes. Not when you’re feeling like that. It’s as if some void has taken up the space in your chest just for something rotten and vile to fester in the darkness. Nothing feels good. It doesn’t feel bad either, it’s just so far out of your reach you don’t even bother trying to chase it. 
You’re so… tired. Tired of filming, of being there in that fucking studio as people peer at you from behind cinema cameras and lights so bright you’re all but promised a migraine later. You just want it to be over; to go home and sleep until whatever that darkness is finally passes, so you do the unthinkable. 
You’ve never had to fake an orgasm with Kyle before. He always takes such good care of you, always is so attentive and in tune with your needs and desires, but you’ve done it so many times before with other actors that it’s easy. It’s easy to wrench your eyes shut as you force your thighs to tremble, and you moan and groan like a pathetic bitch in heat just how you know the viewers like. What makes it difficult is that Kyle’s pace slows, as if trying to gently fuck you through the orgasm that was never even on the crux of arriving. 
The moment he pulls out and tells the director he’s done for the day, you know you’ve fucked up. 
“Huh?” the director asks as if baffled. 
“I think that’s enough for today,” Kyle repeats. 
“We’ve got Viagra on hand if you need it,” the director says, trying to convince him to go longer. 
“I said that’s enough.” 
You bury your face further into the fresh linens at Kyle’s biting tone. You’ve never heard him sound so stern before; not the playful and teasing Kyle Garrick. It was enough to get the director to give in, and you hear a symphony of sighs echo throughout the room as everyone starts to tear the set down. Though all you wanted to do was go home, you couldn’t bring yourself out of the sheets. Maybe you didn’t really want to go home at all; just melt into the bed until there was nothing of you left. 
Plush fabric brushes against your back, causing you to jolt. Kyle smooths your robe over your body as he gently urges you to sit up so you can get your arms through the sleeves. 
“C’mon,” he quietly prompts, “let’s get cleaned up.” 
Once you are both properly wrapped in your robes, Kyle keeps an arm snug around your waist as he leads you into your dressing room. Usually the two of you go your separate ways once the cameras stop rolling, but he doesn’t this time. He closes and locks the door behind both of you as you mindlessly wander towards the counter. Pressure begins to build behind your eyes as white hot shame boils in your stomach, climbing up your chest and into your face. 
Kyle lets you run away for only a short moment before he’s crossing the distance between the door and the counter, hands ready to mend whatever is broken. You want to retract, to continue to hide away instead of facing the beast eating you from the inside out, but your fortitude breaks the moment his hands reach your shoulders. 
“Doll,” he says, voice so soft it’s as if he fears he’ll shatter you with words alone. “Where’s your head at?” 
You refuse to look at him, and instead your eyes keep glued to his chest as you keep your head lowered. The biting sting of tears builds in your eyes just as your bottom lip begins to tremble. It’s impossible to articulate the way bile eats at your esophagus just at the thought of trying to spill your guts to anyone, let alone Kyle. You try in vain to keep a straight face, but your sniffling has already given you away. 
“You know you don’t have to fake it with me, yeah? If you’re not into it, we can always stop,” Kyle then says. 
Wide eyes suddenly pierce through Kyle’s face as you look up at him, bewildered. “You could tell?” you ask as your voice cracks. 
It’s difficult for him to find the words to explain how familiar your body is to him. How he has every inch of it ingrained in his mind as if it had never been separate from him at all. Yet you give him no time to even think before your hands are pawing at your eyes as you try and wipe away your tears. 
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong. Everything feels so off, but everyone was already getting set up and I just- I don’t know,” you ramble. 
“Hey, hey,” Kyle shushes. His hands glide from your shoulders to your cheeks where he holds your head in place, forcing you to look at him. His touch is almost as warm as his eyes are as he studies your face, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he continues. “You don’t have to explain anythin’ to me. We all have those days. Just… promise me next time you’ll talk to me. I don’t wanna fuck you if you’re not into it.” 
His words destroy you in a way nothing else has, and it’s enough to really get the waterworks running. Despite it all, his gaze is soft as his thumbs brush your cheeks, and you begin to melt into him as your hands reach for his chest for stability. 
“I promise. I’m sorry, I promise,” you sob. 
Kyle cradles the back of your head as he holds you in the tightest embrace you’ve ever received. The soft fabric of his robe soaks up your tears as your body rattles with each cry that escapes. Soft kisses press against the crown of your head as he holds you together, refusing to let you crumble. 
He doesn’t pull away until you do, and you wipe at your wet face. Crying doesn’t make you feel any better than you thought it would, and if anything it leaves you feeling emptier than before. But Kyle doesn’t give up on you. It isn’t long before the dressing room fills with steam from the running shower and he’s leading you in there with your hand in his. 
Hot water washes over your body while Kyle scrubs you clean. There’s something holy about the way his hands glide over your skin, as if he’s cleaning you from the inside out. Neither of you say a word, you just stand there and let him work at you until your muscles loosen and you’re so tired you’re certain you’ll fall asleep on your feet. 
Kyle guides your heavy head up to look at him, and you watch his eyes take in the sight of your tired lids. Concern is still etched deep into his features even as his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip. Gears begin to visibly turn in his mind, and you feel your chest expand with something warm. His mouth twitches before it lands on yours, stealing you away with a kiss. There’s something different about this kiss. It’s leagues different from the ones he normally gives you on set; the primal, messy kiss where his tongue slips into your mouth as if he’s trying to devour you. 
No, there is something different in the softness of it all. How he’s not trying to devour you as much as he is trying to know you. When his lips break away from yours just to dive back in for more, you nearly confuse it for love. You’re not sure what it is, or what it’s supposed to be; all you know is that it leaves you feeling a little less empty and only wanting more. 
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proxima-writes · 10 months
Text
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the old college try
pairing: frat dad!joel miller x college student!female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 5.1k
summary:
Family Weekend, or DILF Day as you and your friends like to refer to it, is when the University of Texas encourages the parents and families of its student body to visit the school and participate in activities that the Division of Student Affairs has organized. The fraternities and sororities have their own schedule that includes not-so-sanctioned house parties on frat row following the game. It’s your senior year and your last DILF Day so you’re hoping to go out with a bang. Literally. Enter Joel Miller, handsome single dad visiting his son at the Theta Lambda Upsilon fraternity house.
dear reader:
this is an extremely self-indulgent fic that i just had to write, so i hope you enjoy it! if you do, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging <3
content warnings:
explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), alternate universe - no outbreak/no sarah, age difference (42M and 23F), dub con - sex under the influence of alcohol, no use of y/n, frat party stereotypes, keg stands and beer pong, semi-public sex (frat bathroom), mild daddy kink (not during sex), p in v, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, cheesy dad jokes, the university of texas as a plot device. please let me know if any are missing!
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You turn over in your bed with a deep groan, burying your face into your pillow. You reach your arm out from under the covers to grab your phone from the nightstand, smacking your hand around the wood surface until you find it and can bring it under the covers with you. Turning over, you tap the screen and squint at the series of unread text messages.
Ashley: Get up bitch! 
Ashley: It’s time to get ready!
Ashley: We’re going to be late if you don’t get up
Ashley: Don’t make me break into your apartment
Ashley: You know I can
You sit up quickly, shoving the blankets off of you and rushing to the front door, flipping the lock and pulling it open. Your best friend is across the threshold, knelt down on the ground with two bobby pins held up and her eyes wide in surprise.
“Aw man,” she laments, standing and brushing off her knees. “I wanted to test my skills.”
“I’m not paying to replace the lock,” you chastise, stepping back to let her in. “Sorry, overslept.”
“Figured. I’ll get your coffee started,” she replies, heading for your kitchen while you head back to your bedroom to start your morning routine. “Guess which frat is hosting the tailgate today?”
“Which one?” You shout from the bathroom as you run through your skincare routine.
“Theta Lambda Upsilon,” Ashley shouts back. The scent of brewing coffee paired with this excellent news has you perking up immediately. 
Your friend steps into your room with two mugs in her hands, passing one to you as you exit the bathroom and sit at your cluttered vanity, pushing aside products to make room to set your mug down. Ashley sits on your bed, folding her legs beneath her.
“The hottest frat hosting the tailgate and after party means we’ll get to see the hottest dads this weekend,” she says, shimmying her shoulders excitedly. “It’s simple genetics.”
“You dropped genetics. Remember? You couldn’t handle an 8 am class,” you say as you apply mascara. 
“I went to enough classes to know how a Punnett square works.”
You laugh, finishing your makeup between long sips of coffee. “It’s amazing you couldn’t tough it out through an early semester but give you an afternoon game and you’re trying to break into my apartment at the crack of dawn.”
“It’s DILF Day, baby. It’s like waking up on Christmas morning.”
Family Weekend, or DILF Day as you and your friends like to refer to it, is when the University of Texas encourages the parents and families of its student body to visit the school and participate in activities that the Division of Student Affairs has organized. The fraternities and sororities have their own schedule that includes not-so-sanctioned tailgates and house parties on frat row following the game.
As an out-of-state student, your parents have always skipped Family Weekend in exchange for buying your plane tickets back home for Thanksgiving and Christmas break, which leaves you with plenty of opportunity to ogle the hot dads that descend upon campus on this glorious weekend. You’ve never had the guts to actually pursue anything with anyone, but it’s your senior year and your last DILF Day so you’re hoping to go out with a bang.
Literally.
“What are you going to wear?” Ashley asks. 
“Shorts and that new tank top I got,” you reply, finishing your makeup with a pop of your lips after applying gloss. “And boots. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Ashley nods as you rifle through your closet for the outfit in question - denim cutoffs and orange Texas Longhorn tank top that hugs your curves and shows off the perfect amount of cleavage. Finishing the look with your worn brown cowgirl boots, you spin for your friend who gives you a thumbs up. “Sexy. I reckon’ this year you’ll catch yourself a DILF.”
You roll your eyes. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
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Joel’s arm hangs out the truck’s open window, fingers tapping against the hot metal as he drives down the highway towards the Austin campus of the University of Texas. It’s Family Weekend and his son, Sean, started his sophomore semester at UT a few weeks prior and now lives in the Theta Lambda Upsilon fraternity house on campus after proving to Joel that he would take his classes seriously by doing well his freshman year. Joel’s always been close with his son as a single dad and the fact that Sean asked him to Family Weekend feels like a testament to that bond.
The campus is already bustling with the game day crowd, trucks parked in grassy areas along the road with their tailgates down, people setting up tents and tables and coolers. Joel drives slowly down the street until he’s turning down a side road and parking down the hidden drive his son had given him instructions to find. He hops from the truck, sneakers hitting the hot pavement and the sun already beating down on his arms as he makes his way towards the TLU house a couple blocks away. 
There’s a huge crowd of students and parents in shades of burnt orange and white on the front lawn of the two story fraternity house, red solo cups or cans of beer in hand. Joel looks around until he hears a familiar voice calling out, “Dad!”
Sean emerges from the crowd dressed in a white polo shirt with an orange Longhorn logo on the chest tucked into khaki pants, his curly brown hair slicked back with gel. Joel smiles, hugging his son and patting him on the back in greeting.
“Been ages since I saw you, kid. Have you gotten taller?” Joel asks.
Sean rolls his eyes. “You saw me last weekend!”
A voice calls out Sean’s name and the younger man throws an arm around Joel’s shoulders, dragging him along into the packed fraternity house. The scene inside is not unlike all the ones he’s seen in movies and TV shows - flags stuck to the walls as decor, a mysteriously sticky floor, and kitchen countertops filled with booze. Sean stops and grabs a red plastic cup, handing it to Joel. 
“Pick your poison,” Sean instructs, grabbing his own cup. Joel raises an eyebrow at him.
“Last I checked, you weren’t twenty-one,” he chastises, earning him another eye roll. 
“Like you didn’t know Uncle Tommy was buying me beer when I was a senior.”
“He what?” Joel asks, though the question is lost in the noise as Sean leads him to an impressive back deck hosting a beer pong table and two kegs nestled in plastic trash cans and surrounded by ice. 
Sean slips into the crowd surrounding the kegs, taking Joel’s cup from his hands, pumping the tap and filling each cup with ice cold beer, handing one to Joel. 
“Go Longhorns,” Sean says, tapping his cup to Joel’s and chugging the contents. Joel watches his twenty-year-old son with wide eyes and a torn conscience. 
“This is what I’m payin’ tuition for, huh?” He teases, taking a single sip of the cheap beer. A cheer erupts from behind him and he turns to look at what’s causing so much excitement.
You and a friend are at one end of a plastic folding table, glaring daggers at two boys at the other end, a single solo cup set on the table in front of you. You have a white ping pong ball held delicately between two fingers, your other hand propped on your hip as you squint one eye shut to take your aim for the cup that sits in front of the boys. You let the ball fly and it sinks into the cup, another cheer going through the small crowd gathered around you as you jump up and down excitedly.
Sean approaches the boys, slapping one of them on the shoulder. One of them shouts, “Redemption shot!”
“Oh, please! You can’t aim for shit, Chad!” You shout back. 
“Celebrity shot, then!” He suggests. The boy, Chad, reaches out to pull an older man to his side. “Dad edition!”
Your eyes scan the crowd, landing on Joel. You wave him over, the older man glancing around briefly before pointing to himself to confirm. You nod, smile bright as he approaches.
“I need a daddy for this celebrity shot, you wanna do the honors?” You ask sweetly. Joel swallows nervously, face heating at the suggestive tone and look you’re giving him. 
“Come on, dad!” Sean calls out. “Show ‘em what a Miller man can do!”
“Yeah,” you chime in. “Show me what a Miller man can do.”
“Alright, fine,” Joel acquiesces, moving to stand beside you. You slip a ping pong ball into his hand, standing so close beside him that your bare arm brushes his as you both watch Chad’s dad take aim for the single cup. 
The ball soars through the air, hitting the rim of the cup and bouncing off onto the table, rolling to the ground as the men groan. He feels you place a hand on his shoulder, your lips close to his ear as you whisper, “Come on, Mr. Miller. You’re my only hope.”
It doesn’t escape Joel’s notice that you keep your hand on his shoulder as he takes aim and throws the ball across the table, sinking it into the cup. You’re throwing your arms around his shoulders in celebration as the people around you shout excitedly. On instinct, Joel’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you close for a brief moment before coming to his senses and taking a step back.
“Thanks,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes. “I’m going to go inside for a drink. You want anything? I’ve got a stash of IPAs in a friend’s fridge upstairs if you want something better than Miller Lite. Consider it a thank you for winning me bragging rights over Chad.”
Joel should say no. He shouldn’t be taking up drink offers from someone half his age, but you’re giving him another devastating smile that has his resolve folding faster than a lawn chair in a hurricane.
“Sure.”
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The hottest man you’ve ever seen is currently following you upstairs to your friend Craig’s room for a beer. He’s tall and tan with sweet brown eyes and dark hair that looks like it would be a dream to run your fingers through. His broad chest and toned biceps press deliciously at the confines of the white UT Longhorns shirt he’s wearing. When he stepped up beside you to throw your celebrity shot at the beer pong table downstairs, you’d noted that his left hand featured no wedding band or a tan line of one left behind.
You reach the second floor and head for the last door on the right, marked with a PRESIDENT plaque. You reach into the pocket for the key Craig had given you earlier and let yourself inside, heading for the mini fridge in the corner and grabbing two Yellow Rose IPA cans. 
“So,” you say, handing the man one of the drinks. “You got a name, or should I keep calling you Mr. Miller?”
“It’s Joel,” he says, taking a long sip of the beer. You watch the muscles of his throat work, longing to press your lips against the tan skin. 
You tell him your name, holding a hand out to him for a handshake. His grip is tight, sturdy, and for a brief moment you think about how his sure, thick fingers would feel deep inside of you. He looks around the room curiously as he pulls his hand back.
“Craig and I have been friends since freshman year,” you explain. “I helped him pass calculus, he lets me keep my beer out of the grubby hands of his frat brothers.”
“Calculus, huh?” He asks, taking another sip. “Must mean you’re pretty smart.”
“Just a basic engineering prerequisite,” you joke. 
“Engineering? That’s impressive.”
You take a seat on Craig’s bed, crossing one leg over the other. Joel’s eyes track the movement and you smile, giddy at the attention. “What do you do, Mr. Miller?”
“Thought you were gonna call me Joel?” 
“Mm, I can think of a few things to call you.”
Joel nearly spits his mouthful of beer out, choking on the bitter drink. You rush towards him, patting him on the back as he coughs. After a moment of fighting for breath, the man seems to realize how close you are, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, trailing down to your chest. 
You lean in a little closer, pressing yourself to him and you think this might be it, Joel Miller might be the DILF of your dreams as he leans into you as well. 
But the doorknob rattles and the door swings open, Joel jumping back in surprise as both of you turn to look at the doorway. Craig leans against the frame, an eyebrow raised and a knowing smirk on his lips. You roll your eyes.
“Hey,” he says, looking between you and Joel. “Ashley’s lookin’ for you downstairs. We’re headin’ to the stadium now.”
“I better find Sean, then,” Joel says. Craig’s eyes light up.
“You’re Miller’s dad? Hey, man, nice to finally meet you. I’m Craig, TLU president.” The men shake hands, patting each other on the back. “Sean’s a good kid, we’re happy to have him.”
“Good to hear,” Joel replies. 
“Well, guess I’ll go find Ashley.” You place a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. Maybe I’ll see you later?” You let your hand trail down the man’s bicep as you leave and you watch his throat work around a nervous swallow.
“Yeah, sure,” he says. “See you later.”
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The Longhorns pull off an impressive win, a 49-0 blowout against Oklahoma that has the entire campus celebrating with abandon. If Joel thought the TLU house was packed for the tailgate, that crowd was nothing compared to the after game party. More alcohol, more people, and more noise is packed into the house. Joel sticks close to Sean, meeting more of his frat brothers and their parents with shouted introductions. 
When the stale air inside the house gets too overwhelming, Sean leads him to the deck. More kegs have appeared and his son bumps him with his shoulder, nodding towards where a few people are gathered around one, a man hoisted upside down by two people gripping his legs as he chugs directly from the keg tap. He spits the valve out as the crowd shouts a chorus of, “Twenty!”
“I bet you could do better,” Sean says. Joel raises an eyebrow at him.
“I know what you’re doin’, kid, and it ain’t gonna work,” Joel replies. Sean puts his hands up.
“I’m not doin’ anythin’. But if you’re too scared, you can tell me.”
“I’m not scared.” 
“Hey, my dad’s got next!” Sean shouts, dragging Joel through the crowd with an arm around his shoulders. Joel tries to argue but a familiar face in the crowd has the words dying on his tongue. You wiggle your fingers at him in a wave and suddenly he has the motivation to execute the most impressive keg stand of his life.
Joel grabs the cold handles of the keg, Sean and one of his fraternity brothers lifting him into the air so that he’s suspended upside down over the barrel of beer. People begin counting, shouting numbers as he attempts to focus on the beer flooding his mouth and drinking it down steadily. It’s been a long time since he’s done one of these, probably before Sean was even born, but if there’s one thing Joel has never been, it's a quitter.
After what feels like forever he spits the valve out with a gasp and he gets lowered back to ground as the crowd shouts, “Thirty-four!”
Sean’s frat brothers jump around him excitedly, hands patting him on the back and cheering his name. He laughs as Sean starts yelling, “That’s what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about!”
Movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention and he turns his head just in time to see you disappear into the house. He tells Sean he’ll be back in a minute and follows after you, craning his neck to scan the mass of bodies crammed inside until he spots you on the stairs. 
When he finally manages to reach the stairs, he’s surprised to find them roped off at the bottom. Looking around to make sure no one is paying attention to him, he ducks beneath the barrier, taking the steps two at a time. The second floor is dark and empty but light spills into a hall from beneath the last door marked PRESIDENT.
Joel knocks on the wood, his head a little light from the rush of alcohol in his system but it has him feeling good. 
Confident. 
Maybe a little too confident because when you open the door, he wraps an arm around your waist, pushing his way inside as his lips find yours, a little noise of surprise swallowed by him as his tongue explores yours.
He comes to his senses when your teeth nip at his bottom lip, jarring him back to a reality where he is a mature adult who thinks with his brain and not his dick. He grips you on the shoulders, breaking the kiss and holding you at arm's length.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t even ask if it was okay to kiss you, just came bargin’ in here like a bull in a goddamn china shop and you probably don’t even want—“
“Joel?” You interrupt. He blinks.
“Yeah?” He asks.
“Kiss me again.”
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Joel kisses you again, but pulls away a second time to ask, “Wait, how old are you?”
“Twenty-three,” you reply, giggling as he mutters a low thank god before pulling you back into his arms. It’s another short lived kiss, the man leaning back once more as you huff in annoyance.
“Wait, how much have you had to drink?” He asks this time. 
“Less than you, Mr. Thirty-Four-Second Keg Stand,” you answer. He gives you a smirk that has your stomach doing somersaults. 
“You liked that, huh?” 
His hands slip into the back pockets of your shorts and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring the feel of your lips against his. Your heart is racing as he pulls you even closer and runs his hands up your back, warm palms exploring your curves like he’s trying to map them to memory.
You’re lost enough in each other that the sound of the door opening doesn’t register until an upset voice is saying, “Ugh, come on! No fucking in my room!”
“Shit,” you yelp, tearing yourself away from Joel. Craig is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. You grab Joel’s hand and tug him towards the door of the en-suite bathroom, pulling him inside and slamming the door behind you, flipping the lock.
“Hey, wait a minute—“
“It’s not your room, Craig!” You yell through the wood. There’s a muffled curse from the other side.
“Condoms are under the sink,” he shouts back. You grin victoriously at Joel, who’s laughing so hard he has a hand pressed to his chest. You step up to him, grabbing that hand and bringing it around your waist.
“You sure about this?” Joel asks seriously, stepping forward until he’s crowding you against the door. You tilt your head up to look at his handsome face, his dark eyes so intense as he searches your face that you feel giddy.
“I mean, the location isn’t ideal, but at least Craig keeps his bathroom pretty clean,” you joke, noting the clear counter space and surprising lack of dirty clothing littering the floor. 
“Answer the question, sweetheart. You sure about doing this with me?”
You reach up, tangling your fingers into his soft curls, pulling him close until your lips graze his as you respond, “I’m so fucking sure.”
Whatever tether of control Joel had been holding onto seems to snap with your words, the man kissing you so roughly that all you can do is hold on, your fingers curling desperately against his scalp as his tongue dives into your mouth and tangles with yours. He tastes like beer and smells like a mixture of cedar and sweat, the combination intoxicating as he presses close and surrounds you with it.
Joel trails his lips across your jaw, nipping your earlobe before continuing down your neck. He sucks the thin skin over your pulse before soothing the sting with his tongue as you writhe against him, gasping at the sensation. You can feel his smile against your shoulder and as he presses a thigh between your legs, you get a brief feel of his hard cock behind the barrier of his basketball shorts.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he growls, hands trailing across your curves until he’s gripping one of your breasts, squeezing tightly.
“Not so bad yourself,” you moan. He chuckles darkly.
“The mouth on you.” He reaches two fingers into the low neck of your tank top, dragging it down over your breasts. He yanks the cups of your bra down in a similar fashion, the fabric bunched beneath your chest to expose your tight nipples to him. He dips his head down and wraps his lips around a tight bud, pulling it into his mouth as you gasp.
“Could show you some other things my mouth is good at,” you tell him as he releases your breast with a wet pop, lifting his head to look at you. 
“I have a better idea,” he says, dropping to his knees. He lifts one of your legs and wiggles your boot off, tossing it to the side before doing the same with the other.
“What are you doing?” You ask when his hands reach for the fly of your shorts. He pauses, looking up at you with concern. 
“I was plannin’ on eatin’ you out until you couldn’t think straight,” he says. His brows pinch together. “Do you not want that?”
“I-I’m not sure? I mean, no one’s ever…,” your sentence trails off, your eyes going wide.
Joel runs a soothing hand down your thigh, smiling up at you. “That’s a damn shame, baby. Let me show you how a real man takes care of a woman.”
You let him work your shorts and panties down your thighs, stepping out of them with a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. He lifts one of your legs and settles it over his shoulder, opening you up to his hungry gaze. His eyes flick up to your face and he grins as he says, “Pretty all over, aren’t ya?”
Any smart reply you have died on your tongue as he starts kissing the sensitive skin of your thighs, starting at the knee that’s close to his face and moving up, up, up until you can feel his warm breath on your pussy. His tongue flicks across your clit, featherlight, but it’s enough to have you gasping his name. 
He starts a rhythm of messy swirls of his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves before dipping down to your entrance, the tip of his nose still brushing your clit and making you moan. You buck against his face and he immediately grasps your hips in his big hands, fingers curling into the flesh of your ass to hold you still as he lavishes your pussy with attention.
“Oh my god,” you pant, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. He groans at the same time his lips wrap around your clit and the sound of his satisfaction has your orgasm taking you by surprise, washing through your veins and making you feel like you’re on fire. 
You feel breathless as he licks you slowly, thoroughly, his tongue making sure he’s gotten every last drop of your release. He leans back, slowly lowering your leg from his shoulder. His lips and chin are coated in your wetness, shiny in the light of the bathroom vanity, the sight making your cheeks feel hot and a nervous giggle spill free.
Joel grins, boyish and sweet. “Good?” He asks. 
“Great. Amazing,” you concur. “Ten out of ten. Your Yelp review will be glowing.”
“Shouldn't I be the one leavin’ the Yelp review? You were the meal after all.”
You blink at him. “Oh my god, that was so bad,” you say, laughter near hysterical.
He stands, his palms cupping your face and pulling you into a filthy kiss that quickly shuts you up, his tongue slowly exploring yours and introducing the musky taste of yourself to your taste buds. You reach down, palming his hard cock through his shorts and the responding groan you receive from the older man has you clenching in anticipation.
Joel breaks the kiss, pulling you against his body and turning until you’re facing the vanity, your hips pressed to the edge of the laminate counter. You watch his reflection in the mirror as he runs a hand down your back, pressing you forward slightly so that you’re bent over the counter, ass slightly tilted up. His hand continues lower until it’s running reverently over one cheek. He catches your eye in the mirror.
“You gonna let me fuck you just like this?” He asks. Your breath hitches as his fingers trace through your folds, one dipping into your entrance. He watches your face in the mirror, eyes dark and expression serious. “Answer me.”
“Fuck, yes, anything,” you say quickly. He thrusts his finger slowly, curling it against your front wall with every pull from your body. One finger becomes two, the slight stretch making you whine as he continues to work them in and out of you. “Joel, please.”
“Please what, baby?” He asks.
“Need you to fuck me,” you tell him. 
Joel grins, removing his fingers and urging you to the side so he can open the cabinet under the sink. He crouches down, rummaging through the contents for a moment before standing with a victorious expression and a foil packet pinched between his fingers. He shoves his basketball shorts and boxers down his thighs, just low enough to free his impressive cock, thick and long with a slight curve up that has your mouth watering. He rolls the condom on and then grabs your hips, the tip of his length sliding through your folds and making your breath catch.
“You ready, baby?” He asks, squeezing your hips. You meet his gaze in the reflection, your lips tilted in a smirk.
“Been ready for a while, old man,” you tease. He raises his eyebrows and draws his hand back, landing a sharp smack to your ass that has you crying out. 
Before the sting even fades, he’s pushing inside of you with one steady thrust until his hips are flush to your ass. Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter and you lift onto your tiptoes, trying to escape the sudden sensation of his cock stretching you so well. He chuckles darkly, tight hands on your hips keeping you from going too far.
“Old man,” he taunts, mimicking the higher pitch of your voice. He reaches forward, palm resting beneath your chin as his fingers and thumb press into your cheeks, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his in the mirror as he says, “Eyes up, sweetheart. You watch how this old man fucks you.”
Joel draws his hips back and slams forward, the head of his cock burying so deep inside of you that your eyes roll back from the exquisite stretch and pressure. He sets a rhythm that has a constant string of moans and pleas spilling from your parted lips, a slow pull out and a rough push in that makes you see stars. If you dare to let your chin drop or your eyes shut, the strong hand around your throat reminds you of his demand that you watch.
“That feel good, baby?” He grunts. “My cock in this tight fuckin’ pussy?”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
“That’s right, who’s fuckin’ you so good? Say my name, sweetheart, wanna hear it from that pretty mouth.”
“Joel!” You cry out, the tight coil of pleasure in your belly finally unraveling, your cunt pulsing greedily around his cock as you cum. He curses, his rhythm going sloppy as he fucks you through your release and right into his own.
His hand leaves your throat and his head drops to your shoulder, soft kisses being left on your shoulder blades as you both catch your breath. After a long moment, he pulls back from you, removing the condom and tying it off to toss it in the garbage.
You straighten up from your bent position over the counter, fixing your bra and tank top back into place. Turning, you find Joel holding your shorts and panties. 
“Was that…are you…did you—“ 
You lean into him as you grab your clothes, kissing him softly. Pulling back, you murmur, “That was amazing.”
Joel sighs in relief, watching as you get dressed and tug your boots back on. “Good. That’s…good.”
“Why don’t you head downstairs first? I need to freshen up,” you suggest. Joel nods, but doesn’t make a move to leave. You raise your eyebrows at him and that seems to have him getting the hint. 
“Oh! Right, I’ll just…go downstairs,” he says. You giggle, leaning into him for one more kiss before he disappears from the bathroom and you busy yourself with fixing your appearance to look a little less well fucked.
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Downstairs, Joel wanders through the first floor in search of his son. He feels a flash of guilt for leaving him for so long, especially to fuck a woman half his age in a frat house bathroom, but the guilt is short lived when he finds his son with his tongue down the throat of a blonde girl in the living room.
“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, turning to head for the front door instead. It’s getting late and now seems like a good time to head home.
He’s a few steps out the front door when he hears his name called out and you appear from the doorway. 
“You heading out so soon?” You ask, bottom lip jutting out in a pout that he kind of wants to kiss from your lips. He runs a nervous hand through his hair.
“Uh, yeah. Was gonna head home,” he says. Christ, he has no idea why he’s acting so weird, but you have him tied up in knots. 
“You know…my apartment isn’t far. Maybe…maybe you don’t have to go home just yet?” You say, looking up at him through your lashes.
Those knots of uncertainty loosen and Joel holds a hand out to you.
“Lead the way, baby.”
Joel Miller Masterlist
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endlessthxxghts · 8 months
Text
What You Need
no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈6.3k
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Summary: You come home from a horribly stressful day at University to everything in your family home a complete mess only for you to take care of. Joel helps you and gives you exactly what you need.
Warnings: SUUUPER self indulgent (sorry guys - it makes for a good plot tho, so i’m not all that sorry <3). no use of “y/n”, age gap (22/42), LATINO JOEL MILLER (idc what anyone says, he needs a warning), established relationship, no physical descriptions of reader, pet names (darlin’, sweet girl, pretty girl, princess, etc.), reader “takes care of everyone but who takes care of her” plot, more porn than plot lol, [SMUT 18+ MDNI] daddy kink, sir kink, heavy on the D/s dynamic (reader falls into subspace), cockwarming, unprotected piv (don’t be like these 2 idiots), breeding kink, cum eating, creampie, finger fucking, finger sucking (briefly), choking, hair pulling, brief thoughts about anal, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, hickeys/marking kink, squirting!, toy use, fluffy ending… i think that’s it?? (dear lord pls forgive me, for i have sinned)  if i missed anything, lmk pls!
Quick lil author’s note (see bottom for extended a/n): In all honesty, I wanna dedicate this (nasty) little one shot to @javierpena-inatacvest because if it wasn’t for our interactions as of late plus reading your “It’s Never Too Late” fic, I never would’ve said fuck it and just start writing with the intention of potentially showing it to the world. Thank you for inspiring me. You’re amazing & I literally love u so so much. You deserve phenomenal head all the love in the world for everything you do <3.
MAIN MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION
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It was a long day at university today, as per usual, but something about today completely drained you. 
You went to bed past midnight last night because you were busy finishing up a paper, only to get up at 7am the next morning to spend the next 13 hours juggling between classes, assignments, and studying in your “free” time. By the time you were ready to head back home, you were on your very last thread, begging to snap. You also completely spaced on nourishing your body today, the only thing running through it being water and coffee — lots of coffee. 
That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that the minute you entered your family home, the entire house was an absolute mess, your pets weren’t given their food yet, and no dinner was made. And just like every other day since you grew into an acceptable height to reach the kitchen stove, you took care of it. All of it. 
You were so grateful to your family for allowing you to stay at home during your undergraduate years. It makes your in-state tuition even cheaper, and you get the comfort of your own bed. You knew not many people could rely on their parents and family like this, so you don’t want to sound selfish when you think about how you really wish you had your own place right about now. 
It’s been an hour and a half since you've been home, and you’re barely finishing up getting the food for your dogs when your phone dings in your back pocket. 
Didn’t text me when you got home, baby. Everything okay?
It was from Joel. The neighbor directly across from you, and a quickly growing family friend of yours. Your heart both saddens at the fact that you forgot your unspoken ritual, but it swells at the way he can read you. 
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It all began at a small family party last year. You were 21 at the time, and for some reason you could not take your eyes off of your neighbor — who was 20 years your senior. It was always just shared glances or you bringing baked goods from your stress-baking endeavors, but at that party, there was a good period of time where your entire family went outside to the bonfire in the backyard to drink until their hearts gave out, leaving you with the dishes and a trashed house to clean. Joel noticed this, how much they relied on you. Whether it was coming over for a beer with your brothers or your father, or to fix an appliance for your older sister, they always walked all over you — when you did absolutely everything for them. So, he took matters into his own hands and went inside to help you clean up. 
You insisted he didn’t need to, but you knew he wouldn’t let up. So, there, you two worked, harmoniously, straightening up your home in half the time it would normally take you by yourself. The second you completed the last task, you reached for the remote and plopped yourself on the couch, half expecting Joel to go back outside with your family. Except, he plopped himself on the couch right next to you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, “What are we watchin’, darlin’?” 
“You know you could’ve stayed outside with everyone else, Miller,” you say as you turn your body to him with an eyebrow quirked up. He matches your expression, “Well, where’s the fun in that?” 
You break into a breathy little giggle, satisfied with his comeback, and you turn on the TV. With your family completely occupied outside, it was easy for either of you to make a move. And although Joel had been planning to for the last few months before this party, you took matters into your own hands and lifted his arm closest to you, tucked yourself into his side and pulled his arm back around your body. He looked down at you, smirking at your boldness while your eyes remained fixed on the movie before you. 
The next few hours of the night were filled with secret caresses and stolen kisses, and you have never felt more loved and appreciated in your life. From then on, you’ve been absolutely smitten with him, and he with you. 
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Instead of replying, you dial him instead. Not even a third ring goes by before he answers, “Baby.” 
“Oh my god, hi, baby, I’m so sorry. I completely spaced. The minute I got home, the house was a mess, the dogs weren’t fed yet, dinner wasn’t even cooked, and I-”
“Mi amor,” he says with a deep breath, implicitly telling you to take one, “it’s okay, baby. I don’t wanna hear sorry from you. I’m sorry everythin’ is a mess, baby. Can I help? Need me to come over?”
Your rapid heart rate immediately starts to slow at how calming, ready and willing he is to give you anything you need. Your family would go absolutely insane if Joel just showed up right now with the sole intention of helping you take care of the home and yourself, but you don’t mention that. “No, baby, I promise I’m okay. I just need to relax. I need-” you pause for a moment to take another breath because you feel your body going panicky again. “I need…honestly, I just need you.” 
After the shitty day you’ve had today, having to take control of every single thing, honestly all you really want, and need, right now is for your control to be taken away. You don’t want to think, you don’t want to decide, and you don’t even want to figure out your dinner even though you haven’t eaten all day. 
He pauses for a moment, hearing the slight whine at your last statement. And just like that, Joel is at your rescue. “You need me, huh, babygirl?” 
“Mhm, please.” 
“Cross the street, darlin’, right now,” and he hangs up the phone. 
You bolt out of your seat, and sprint straight to the front door, quickly locking it. You think to say something on the Ring camera, letting your family know you’ll be back, but you know they won’t even think twice at your absence. You already cleaned the house and took care of the animals they begged for but don’t care for — why else would they look for you? 
Just in case they do check the cameras, however, you immediately veer to the left side of your driveway into the blind spots of your front door. 
Within seconds, you’re at his door about to knock, but he’s already opening the door, whispering a soft hi followed by your name, and pulling you into a tight embrace. He pulls you away for a second, assessing your face, assessing your needs. He sees your brows pulled together, eyes glossed over, and a pout beginning to form. You don’t need soft and comforting. You need stern, dominating control. You need nothing but pure bliss, and he’s going to give that to you. But first: 
“Safe words. Repeat em’.” 
“Red for hard stop, yellow if I’m starting to get uncomfortable, and green to keep going.” 
“That’s my girl,” he says and finally pulls you in for that rough, all-consuming kiss you’ve been craving. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and obviously he wins. His hands are roughly sliding down to the underside of your asscheeks, tightly pulling you into his hardening bulge. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, but pause for a moment because he never gave you permission to. He senses that, and pulls back for just a moment. “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me. Go ‘head, baby, touch me.” 
You immediately bring your arms back up to grab ahold of him but too riled up in how he’s making you feel, you don’t notice the huge grumble your empty tummy makes. He pulls both your wrists back from his neck and puts an insufferable amount of space between you two. 
He says your name, filled with both concern and slight anger. “When was the last time you ate?” 
Silence. 
He lets go of your wrist and grabs your chin between his pointer and thumb, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m not askin’ again, baby.”
“Y-yesterday night,” you stumble out. 
“I’m not givin’ you a heavy meal ‘cause that’ll just upset your stomach, but I am fixin’ you somethin’. Go upstairs, change into the clothes on the bed, come back down and position yourself on the ottoman, like I taught ya last week, hm?”
Too enamored by his roughly smooth voice, all you can muster up is a nod. His eyebrow barely shifts, but that’s all a warning you need. “Yes, sir.” 
Padding up into his room, already feeling your insides start to float, you reach the edge of his bed to see a pair of black cheeky boxers, and a thin, fitted black tee. You quickly strip off everything you arrived here in and slip on the garments he gave you. Wasting no time, you head back down in a bee line to the ottoman. 
Like I taught ya last week, hm?
His words echo in your mind as you begin to recall last week’s endeavors. 
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You were straddling his lap for a while now, slowly swallowing each other’s moans and making every part of each other’s body ingrained into your memories. Until suddenly he pulls back, eyes dead set with intention. “You trust me, baby?”
“Always, Joel,” you say back with as stern a voice as possible, confused as to why he’d ask such a thing. “Can I teach you somethin’, then, darlin’?”
You pull him into one more kiss before you breathily tell him yes and pull yourself off his lap to stand before him, fully at his disposal. 
He stands up, and without any verbal indications, he’s grabbing onto you and molding your body onto the ottoman in a position that begins to drift you off into subspace. You don’t know if it’s the fact that you're sitting on your knees with your legs tucked under you, or if it’s the slow drag of his hands caressing your inner thighs, pulling them farther apart from each other. Or maybe it’s the way he softly places your hands, palms up, atop of your thighs. Whatever the hell it is, you absolutely fucking love it. 
He feels you melting into every little touch he makes and he notes every little moment you slip further and further into your space. “Doin’ okay, my sweet girl?” he asks, voice dark and sweet. 
All you can pull out of yourself is a pathetic little whine and a head nod. 
“This is position number one. Remember it. We’ll learn more later, but this’ll do just fine for a while, baby.”
And with that, he kisses you ever so softly but with such a dominating, addictive energy that you feel yourself try to push up into him, and immediately he pulls away. 
“Sweet girl, Imma let it slide this time, but you do not move from this position unless given permission. Ya hear?”
You return to your original position and assure him how good you’ll be, “Won’t happen again, daddy, I promise.”
His jaw clenches at the honorific; that’s your number one tell that signifies you’ve completely submitted and fallen into subspace. He had originally planned on giving you what you asked for two days ago — “Please, Joel, I need you to fuck me, hard.” — but seeing you all docile and ready for him just makes him want to absolutely praise you in the most beautiful ways possible. 
So that’s what he did. For hours. An hour of bending you over the ottoman to eat your pussy like a man who had all the time in the world, an hour of fingering orgasm after orgasm out of you while his mouth switched between licking and marking your tits, and a few hours after that just slowly fucking you into his mattress, caressing and loving on every single part of your body he could reach. 
Let’s just say, your family didn’t see you for the rest of that day or the next, and you did not care one fucking bit. 
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You shuffle onto the ottoman, your form now perfected after secretly practicing each night to increase your endurance of staying in such a position for however long Joel needed you to. 
You wait for about five more minutes before he comes back with a platter of all of your favorite fruits — strawberries, mangoes, and pineapple — and sits on the cushioned seat right in front of you. He melts at how good you sit for him, immediately disregarding his original plan and wanting you as close to him as possible. 
“My good, beautiful girl,” he says softly, in a way that you’re not sure if it was even meant for you to hear, but you still melt nonetheless. “Come,” he says as he pats his lap while setting the plate off to the table beside him. 
You shoot up like a lightning bolt, too excited at the thought of being able to feel him again, but before you can climb up, he grabs your hips, stopping you for a second. He slides his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly slides them completely off of you, setting them neatly on the ottoman behind you. He slowly reaches for his belt, then slides it off, letting it fall somewhere on the ground. You stand completely still, patiently waiting for whatever he’s going to give you, although your pussy is proving anything but patient. 
He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans and signals for you to come up. “Take me out, cariño.”
You climb up on his thighs, not fully straddling him to give yourself some room to tug his jeans and boxers down enough to pull him free. You pull him free with a small moan escaping your lips, wanting to dart your tongue out and lick his angry tip, but he didn’t give his permission for that. So, you begrudgingly let him go, and wait for what comes next. 
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he states nonchalantly as if his dick isn’t absolutely begging for you to reach out and grab it. “You’re gonna sit on my cock, keep me nice and warm. Without moving. Only until you’ve eaten all the fruit on this plate will I think about what’s gonna happen next. Got it?”
Your voice trembles, “Y-yes, sir.” 
He nods his head, while bringing his hand up to your mouth, signaling for you to let your drool fall. You scoot closer and lift your hips up while he pumps himself a few times to completely cover himself in your spit. With how much your cunt is dripping, you knew his lewd act was for his benefit and his only. 
The second his tip catches at your entrance, you can’t control the high-pitch whine that falls from your mouth, and he can’t stop himself from gripping your hips with a bruising force in an attempt to keep from mercilessly pounding up into you right here. 
“So f-fucking full,” you breath out as you sink lower and lower, to which he nearly growls with a strained, “So fucking tight.”
You finally bottom out, and you both take a moment to breathe and settle any impulsive thoughts of forgetting the purpose of tonight’s scene. You shift a little to adjust to settle your legs more comfortably at his sides, while he leans over to bring your plate of fruit closer. Both your actions together make you hiss in desperation.
“Color, baby?”
“Green, sir, green,” you promise him.
He smiles, genuine and bright, before his face goes dark and smug again. He picks up a piece of pineapple with his fingers. “Open.”
You lean in and take the sweet fruit from his fingers, making sure to lick any residual of the pineapple’s sweet juices. This goes on until you’ve finished every last piece he cut for you. Towards the last few pieces, your pussy was absolutely drenching his cock with your slick, both your thighs and his soaked. He could feel every pulse and every flutter, and no matter how patient he usually was, something in the air tonight was testing every ounce of his strength. 
He sets the plate aside and licks a mix of fruit juices and your spit clean off his fingers. You watch him, completely entranced by the way his tongue wraps around his thick fingers, and you can’t help but feel such an aching need to throw yourself at him. 
So you do. And to your surprise, he allows it. You pull both his arms to wrap around your middle and you push yourself into him for a searing kiss, whimpering for him to slip you his tongue. He indulges, and you immediately begin grinding your hips down onto his cock. He growls and wraps his arms tighter around you, adding more pressure into your grind, forcing you to break the kiss to regain your breath. “Fuck, baby. Such an impatient little one, aren’t ya?” He rasps out. 
Your hips move faster at his words, trying to will yourself to say something, anything, but you can’t. He notices your effort. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby, hm?”
And with that — with the notion that he’ll take care of you with anything you need — you completely fall. “Y- yes,” you moan out, “Da- fuck- daddy’s got me.”
Ah, there she is. Daddy’s girl. His back straightens so he’s towering over you more. He grabs your jaw tightly while you continue to pleasure yourself on his dick, forcing you to hold his stare. “Oh, sweet girl, daddy’s always gonna give ya what ya need. Promise, baby. Now be the good little girl I know you are and cum for me.”
You can feel him meet every movement of your hips, coaxing your high out of you faster than you realize. The wet, squelch your pussy makes every time you suck him in is enough to make him release his load, but he won’t. Not until you’ve came more times than ever before, not until you’re left completely fucked dumb. 
He snakes his hand down to the front, reaching for your clit, using his thumb to make mind-numbing, calculated circles. Your back arches at the sensation, head thrown back, and he brings his other free hand to the back of your neck to pull you closer into him. He ravishes your neck all over, sucking and biting all your weak spots, your pulse points, only to run his tongue over it in soothing motions, getting even more worked up at the marks that’ll form tomorrow. Then, he rips your shirt right in half, letting it fall to the ground. So much for makin’ you change, he thinks. He brings his mouth lower and lower, sucking one of your nipples in between his teeth, throwing you over the edge.
Your vision goes white, your entire body goes rigid, and your pussy uncontrollably flutters around his dick as he peppers your neck and chest with more kisses while you come back down. 
Your body is now soft and pliant, fully ready for whatever more Joel is going to give you. Your head is still high up in the clouds, and it will be for a while, but he always knows how to take care of you. You feel him slowly lift you off his dick and you hear him groan as he looks down. 
“God fucking damn, doll, look at you all over me. Such a fuckin’ mess.”
Your face heats up immediately, “I- I’m sorry, daddy, I-”
He grabs your jaw again and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He pulls away bringing your bottom lip with him until he lets go, letting it fall back into place, now wet with his spit. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize for that. You made daddy so proud, baby. So much so that you’re gonna do it again for me,” he says as he squeezes your ass cheek. 
You squeak out a gasp and a breathy please. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom with you still wrapped around him like a koala. 
Immediately he throws you on the bed, and before you’re able to scramble up towards the pillows, he’s already pushing you up by the thighs and kneeling between your spread legs. 
He releases one thigh for a quick second and holds his hand out, “Pillow, baby.” It takes your blissed mind one moment to register, but as soon as it does, you don’t waste a second, grabbing the pillow next to your head and eagerly handing it to him. He takes the pillow and taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to lift up. He secures the pillow under your hips then brings both his large hands back to the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up so you’re nearly folded in half, giving him complete access to your dripping heat. 
If there’s one thing about Joel Miller, it’s that he loves to make a fucking mess. You thought your first sensation would be one flat lick up your cunt, but instead you feel warmth. Wet and warm and everywhere, and finally you realize, he let his mouth fill with spit only to absolutely drench you with it. Once he’s satisfied with his mess only then does he dive into you like a man starved. Licking and pushing into your slit while the tip of his nose rubs against your clit has you climaxing in an instant, your back arching and your hips lifting as much as they can with the weight of his hands on your thighs keeping you in place. 
He lets one hand slowly slide off your thigh and up your belly until he reaches one of your tits, switching between grabbing your entire breast and pinching your nipple. He continues to lick at you and circle your clit with his tongue until you’re a complete whining mess from the overstimulation. “Daddy, please,” you moan. 
He lifts his head, eyes as black as ever, “I’ve got you, princess, you can take it.” He reluctantly breaks away from your cunt and kisses his way up your body, taking his time with sloppy, open mouthed kisses near your hip bone and your sternum, knowing those areas drive you crazy the most. He makes sure to bite a little extra hard in some areas on his journey up, knowing you love to admire all the marks and bruises he makes on you. 
He sucks another bruise right underneath your jaw, making you push up into him more, while his hands continue to wander and grasp every part of your body that he can. Finally he reaches your mouth and gives you a sweet, long kiss to your mouth, distracting you enough that you don’t see him reach for the vibrator in the nightstand beside the bed. You feel him slide his hand back down your body, but you still don’t realize the vibrator’s presence until you feel the buzz directly on your clit. 
Out of pure reaction, your hand flies to the nape of his neck and tugs sharply, all while obscenities fall pathetically from your mouth, “Oh- f-fuck, daddy, yes! J-just like that, please, please don’t stop…” The quick-paced, blinding pleasure builds so fast it cuts off your dirty mouth and reduces you down to moans and gasps and whines of daddy, daddy, daddy. 
He slips two fingers into your pussy, sliding in with so much ease with how wet you are from a combination of your cream and his spit, all while he uses his other hand to push the vibrator into your bundle of nerves. 
You don’t know whether it has been one minute or one hour of this, but all you know is that you’ve got sweat lining your forehead, beading down your body, and you absolutely can’t take the buzzing pleasure with the constant come-here motion with his fingers anymore, you have to let go. Although this time, it feels different than the rest of the times Joel has made you cum. This time… this time it feels like- you have to pee? 
Immediately you start to panic and try to break away from his hold, unable to allow yourself to fucking pee all over him. “Daddy, wait! Please stop.. it- it feels different, like I.. I think I’m gonna pee..” you gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts while he continues his torture on your cunt. 
His eyes go wide and it immediately registers for him, “Fuck, baby, don’t worry about that, just let go. Come on, daddy’s got you. You trust me?” 
You hesitate for a moment, but still, you know the answer, “Y-yes, daddy.” 
“Good, my princess. Cum for me, fuckin’ soak me. I told you I wanted another fuckin’ mess,” he demands and fucks you even harder with his fingers and increases the pressure of the vibrator. 
You all but scream, definitely sure the neighbors can hear you, but you don’t give a fuck with the fireworks erupting behind your eyes and all throughout your body. Your body is still convulsing and you’re sure you’ve gone unconscious for a moment, but what brings you back to the Earth is the feeling of a warm, flat tongue licking you all over, cleaning you up. Then another sensation hits you: your bottom half is completely fucking drenched. You muster up all the strength you can to open your eyes and look down to see what’s going on. 
You see your big, broad man licking you up so sweetly, but from his mouth down he is also absolutely soaked, down to the collar of his dark green shirt he was wearing. 
Holy fuck. You fucking squirted. That was new. And with Joel’s reaction to it, you’re definitely sure that’s not gonna be the last time he pulls that out of you. 
He doesn’t realize you’re up again until you’re softly calling his attention back up to you and not your pussy. He makes eye contact with you, and his eyes fucking sparkle. Yeah, there’s no way this was a one time kind of thing. He sits back up on his haunches and strips himself of his shirt. He never pulled his jeans back up from when you used him to get off in the living room, so his dick has been patiently waiting for attention since your last two orgasms. 
He strips himself completely at the bottom half, too, leaving you with a perfect view of his toned chest, softer middle, and bulging arms and shoulders. Your cunt, all used and abused, fucking clenches on nothing at the naked sight of him. Of course, he fucking notices. 
“Oh, my poor baby. She’s just fuckin’ beggin’ to be filled, huh?” His southern drawl always intensifies whenever he gets spurred on like this. And, fuck, if it doesn’t make you fold more than you already do. 
You whine at his words and spread your legs even wider for him to see what’s rightfully his. 
“Just beggin’ to get pumped full of my fuckin’ cum, huh, princess? Is that what she wants? That what my babygirl wants?” 
“Please, daddy! Yes, that’s what I- what I need, daddy… need you ins- fuck- need you inside, daddy,” you ramble out, already fucked stupid but still begging for more. He situates himself on top of you, stopping your begging with a harsh kiss that leaves your already swollen lips throbbing. “Shhh, I’m gonna give you what you need, darlin’,” and he kisses you one more time as he begins to notch his tip at your entrance. 
He hooks his arm underneath your knee, hiking your one leg up higher to open you completely. You feel him start to push in deeper, and neither of you can help the initial gasp of how good it feels to be consumed by one another. He leans down again to kiss you, unable to get enough of your lips on his, and you bring your hand back up to the back of his head, keeping him close to you, feeling the exact same way. 
He completely bottoms out into you then, his breathing labored and you, a whimpering mess. No matter how many times you two have fucked, his sheer size always makes you feel like it’s the first time. He stays still to let you get used to the feeling again. You both lay there for a few minutes, kissing and consuming each other’s breaths and moans while he gives you rhythmic little grinds to stimulate your clit. Your pussy is sobbing at this point, enough wetness has accumulated that he’s able to slide right out until just the tip is in you and he pushes right back in, hard. 
He fucks you hard, maintaining this rhythm for a while, completely consumed by the way you wrap around him so perfectly. What started off as one leg hiked up around him turned into a complete mating press, giving you the maximum sensation of his length and girth pumping in and out of you. He always gets so foul-mouthed whenever you two end up in this position, not that you’d ever complain because you love hearing that rough, sexy Southern drawl utter absolute filth that only your ears will ever get to hear. 
“Fuck, darlin’, it’s like she was fuckin’ made for me. Wrapped around my cock, so fucking tight and warm. I could spend fuckin’ forever here wrapped up in your tight fuckin’ cunt,” he groans. 
“All for you, daddy, always,” you respond, purposefully squeezing your pussy tight in time with your words. That drives him absolutely fucking crazy that he pulls his arm upwards in between your legs that are resting on his torso and brings his hand up to wrap around your throat. “Say it again,” he growls, “tell me who the fuck this pussy belongs to, baby.” He squeezes the sides of your neck tighter, creating an even lighter sensation in your head coupled with the submissive daze you’ve been in since you got here. 
“F-fuck, d-daddy- shit,” you can’t focus on anything but the way he feels wrapped around your neck while balls deep inside of you. 
“Darlin’ girl,” he warns, “don’t make me repeat myself.”
You sob out, willing your body to respond to him, willing your body to obey, “Th- this pussy belongs t- to-“ you take a breath, “to you, daddy, only you. Forever.” 
He releases your throat and pulls your legs down from the mating press, wrapping them around his waist instead. He places one hand at the back of your head and the other on the headboard, then kisses you furiously before breaking away, “God damn f-fuckin’ right, princess. All fuckin’ mine to do whatever I fuckin’ want.” And with that, he’s slamming into you, his hand on the headboard in a (wasted) attempt to save the wall from the constant banging. 
“Touch that pretty little clit, princess,” he breathes out, chasing his own release now with the sole intention of marking you with his seed. One hand still on his neck, the other snakes down to rub your clit in fast, messy circles, your body begging to cum for a fourth time tonight. “Daddy,” you whine out again, the honorific clearly being your only vocabulary for tonight. 
“I know, honey, I know,” he coos, “Cum for me, mama, and I’ll fill you up right fuckin’ now,” he sucks on your bottom lip, “You want that, baby? To be pumped full of me?” He knows your answer, yet he still asks anyway knowing how much his words affect you. 
“Please, God, yes, fill me up… I need your cum so fucking badly, I need to feel you, please,” you beg, only spurring him on more. 
With both of your mouths spilling such dirty words, his lips anywhere they can reach with the combination of you playing with your clit and him pounding into you, your body enters the astral plane yet again for the fourth time tonight. Though, this time, you force your body to come back down, so you can feel his warmth spill into you. 
It only takes but a few more thrusts after you climax for him to follow suit, roaring out as hot, thick ropes of cum spill into you, overflowing and dripping out of your sore cunt. He slowly pulls out, labored breathing, sits back up and just watches. Watches as your pussy clenches to keep him locked inside of you, watches as his load drips down your folds over your tight, little asshole. Another day, he thinks to himself with a smirk. 
He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until his fingers are engrossed in the thick combination of your releases. You moan out at the sensitivity of your pussy, but Joel doesn’t care. He slips his middle and ring finger in, feeling just how much he filled you up. And before you know it, he’s pumping in and out of you yet again, his eyes completely focused on your glistening sex, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you fluttering for another fucking release. 
“Ahh,” you hiss, not knowing whether you want him to stop or keep going. He uses his other hand to rub on your clit. Fuck. Yeah, okay, you want him to keep going. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum again,” you say as you scramble to get ahold of the bedsheets. 
Joel’s gaze breaks away from your cunt to look at you, he smirks like the devil, “Oh, yeah, honey? Gonna give me another one? Come on, baby, I know you have it in you,” he slips a third finger inside. You whine at the stretch. “One more mess, baby, and then I’ll take care of you, I gotcha,” he says for comfort. 
You’re nearing the point where you guys usually begin to transition into aftercare, and he knows. He always knows. But he also knows that today you need a little extra push, so he gives it to you. 
The thrusts of his fingers don’t come to a stop, but they exponentially slow. “Give me a color, mi amor,” he softly encourages. Even with your erratic breathing, you’re able to force out, “Oh my god, daddy, green, green, green, please go faster, just like before, please-” 
He quickly leans forward and stops your blabbering with a chaste kiss and chuckles when he pulls back, “My god, I love you so much, princess.” Then his fingers pick back up to the speed you were so desperately loving before, his and your cum leaking out all over the inside of your thighs. 
“Fuck, daddy, I love you so fucking much, fuck, thank you, thank you,” you cry out. A few more pumps and a few more circles to your clit and you’re cumming for the fifth (and final) time tonight. Joel groans at the way you finish on his fingers, and it’s his mouth that blabbers out this time.
“Shit, baby, yes, soak my fuckin’ fingers, let me feel you, fuck-” He’s so enthralled at the sight before him, he doesn’t hear you pleading for him to stop pushing in and out until the honorific fades, “Baby, baby, baby,” you frantically breathe. 
He makes eye contact with you again and realizes how caught up he was in you. “Oh, darlin’, shit, I’m sorry, mi amor. What’s your color, baby? Fuck, I’m sorry-” 
It’s you this time who forces your entire wobbly body to push up and meet him in a bruising kiss. “Stop, daddy,” you say with a lilt in your tone, signaling to Joel that you’re back from subspace. You smirk, “My color is green, cowboy, but I really need you to run me a warm bath now because I can’t move a single muscle with how you had me, baby,” and pull him in once more for another kiss. 
His smugness returns and he pushes you back down on his bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses, forcing sweet out-of-breath giggles from you. “That, I can do, baby. May I join you?”
Your face completely softens, your stresses and worries from the last 24 hours completely nonexistent. “I’d be mad if you didn’t, Miller.” 
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The next hour and a half — or until the bath water becomes tepid — is spent with him cherishing your body, washing you with your lavender, oat milk body wash you love so much, ultimately just helping you softly come down from your oxytocin high. 
You’ve never felt more loved, appreciated, or taken care of in your life. He always makes sure your come down is smooth and unnoticeable as you fall from a blissed state of mind to one of pure love and adoration. As long as you have him in your life, you truly believe you have all of what you need. 
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As he’s drying your body up and slipping you into one of his t-shirts, your stomach growls… loudly. 
“Darlin’...” 
You pull away from his grasp, jokingly rolling your eyes while smirking, “Yeah, yeah, Miller. Come on. Gotta fill me up again, don’tcha, cowboy?” 
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out followed by your name, “Tryna put me in an early fuckin’ grave or what?”
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Author’s note - extended: Hi guys! I birthed this little one shot on a Friday night while sippin’ on a glass of whiskey and stressing about the stressful entire week I just had. This isn’t my first time writing, in general, but this is my first time writing with the intention of truly producing a story out of it.. this is also my first story I’m posting, so I’m very nervous. Even if just one other person reads this and enjoys it, that’s all that matters to me <3 I also wanna give a quick thank you to my bestie, who’s an AVID smut reader, for proofreading this. She said, and I quote, “gotta change my panties” and “she’s growling” after reading this LMAOO. So, thank you for that, bestie. I love you with my whole heart.
As with any fic, reblog and comments are very much appreciated!! All feedback is appreciated, too!!! Please do let me know how you liked this, and if there's anything specific I could work to improve, I'd love to know! I hope I did okay for my first actual attempt at smut.
Much love to everyone! <3
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EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!
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corrodedcorpses · 1 year
Text
Just a taste
Virgin! Eddie x reader
Summary: Eddie learns just how sensitive nipples can be
Warnings: Smut (18+), grinding, making out, nipple play (I guess that's what you'd call it?), cumming in pants
Word count: 1.8k
a/n: This idea came to me last night and I had to write it, it is purely self indulgent
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You and Eddie had been dating for a couple of months now and it had been wonderful. Eddie was sweet and kind but also outrageous and funny. You were completely enamoured by him and were sure he was your person. 
You’d both slowly opened up to each other in those few months, about intense things and little things and - in the middle of a makeout session on your 3rd date - Eddie had, quite suddenly, opened up to you about being a virgin. 
He’d looked at you like he was surprised he’d even said it, like being a virgin was a shock to him. The look on his face had made you completely melt, cupping his face gently and pressing a kiss to his nose you assured him that that was okay, you liked spending time with him even if you didn’t have sex. 
“How much of a virgin are we talking here…?” you’d asked cautiously. Trying your best to keep your voice indifferent about the situation, just trying to gauge the amount of experience he had, if any. 
“I’ve, ah, I’ve kissed and like made out with people before,” he offered the statement as if it was a question, like he was really asking you if he should have done more, if you think he's weird for not and - most importantly-  if you want to run away right about now. 
But you hadn’t run away. Instead you’d just offered him a warm smile, nodding gently. 
“Okay,” you’d whispered, “so what we’re doing right now, it’s okay?” 
“Yeah,” he’d breathed with a slight laugh, “it’s definitely okay.” 
After that you both made out until your lips were swollen and raw, both rutting against each other like desperate teenagers, but you didn’t mind one bit because Eddie did make you feel like some lovesick teenager. 
Since then you’d talked to him and reassured him more that it was completely okay that he wasn’t as experienced, that you were happy to go at his pace and more than happy to teach him anything he wanted to know or try when he was ready. 
That brings you to today. 
You’re both on his bed, making out slowly as the late afternoon sun coats his room in an orange glow. Eddie sitting with his back against the wall with you sitting comfortably on his lap, one hand tangled in his unruly, brown hair, the other giving you purchase on his chest as you grind against him. Both of Eddie’s hands are gripping the plush of your hips and ass tightly to keep himself grounded, every now and again pulling you against him to help you grind against his aching hard on. 
One of Eddie’s hands glides up past your waist, stopping just shy of your boobs before he breaks the kiss, panting heavily. 
“Can I touch you?” he asks, lust blown eyes pleading at you so cutely. 
“Of course baby, you can touch me wherever you want,” you whisper in his ear, loving the way it makes him shiver underneath you. 
“H-here?” he asks, as he moves his hand up slightly, half cupping the underside of your boobs. 
“Please,” you respond sweetly. 
Eddie groans as he cups them with both hands. He’s been wanting to do this for so long, being even more distracted by them all afternoon when he realised you weren't wearing a bra. And having to try and not cum in his jeans just before, when he saw how hard your nipples were getting while making out with him. 
You let out a soft, content sigh as he experimentally gives them a soft squeeze, looking up at you to gauge your reaction. 
“That’s it baby,” you coo, “you can go a bit harder.”
Eddie’s eyes flick down to your boobs as he starts to knead the soft flesh between his fingers, mouth open slightly as he looks at them with awe, before looking back up at you. 
“Yeah, that’s good,” you say with a smile, causing Eddie to smile too. 
“Use your thumbs to play with my nipples a little bit babe,” you instruct gently, Eddie following your orders straight away, gently rubbing against the small pebbles on your chest, wetting his lips as he does, eyes completely trained to them now. 
You let out a soft moan as his thumbs move in small slow circles against them. 
“That’s it baby, just like that,” you praise him, not missing how his dick twitches against you at your words. 
You start to grind against him again subconsciously, the pleasure from your nipples growing, making you needy. You’re desperate to feel more of him so you chance in asking him if he’d be okay with that.
“Would you like me to take my shirt off baby or is this okay?” you ask gently, hoping he knows it’s completely fine if he’s not ready. 
He swallows and nods while looking up at you, scared his voice would come out too eager and excited. 
You smile at him, quickly taking your shirt off and tossing it on the floor next to the bed.  
Eddie's eyes go wide with lust and awe as he stares at your naked breasts, mouth practically salivating at the sight. When he doesnt cup them again after a second you gently find his hands, slowly bringing them back up to your chest, mewling as you squeeze your boobs through his hands. 
Eddie lets out a shaky moan as he feels your skin bare against him for the first time. He can't get over how soft and warm you feel. He goes back to rubbing and flicking your nipples softly with his thumbs before experimentally pinching one between his thumb and forefinger. 
“Fuck, Eddie,” you moan out while grinding harder against him. Heat blooming in your core as he starts to play with your tits rougher. 
Without warning he surges forward, tongue darting out to lick a long, flat stripe against one of your nipples. You let out a surprised moan at the action, fingers tugging at his hair tightly and head tilting back before snapping down to look at him. He has a smirk plastered on his face, no doubt pleased with your reaction before repeating the action, maintaining eye contact with you. 
He continues that before switching, doing the same to your other nipple. 
“Please suck on them Eddie,” you beg. 
He doesn't have to be told twice, immediately taking one of your nipples in his mouth and giving it a soft suck while pinching the other one. Increasing in pressure when you moan loudly and continue to grind against him. 
He starts to grow more confident; sucking, licking, pinching and rolling your nipples. You start to feel that familiar heat grow between your legs, your clit catching deliciously against your painties and his boner through his jeans. Your oversensitive nipples hurdling you quickly towards your orgasm. 
You know you should let Eddie know how close he’s getting you, not wanting to overwhelm him by suddenly cumming in his lap. 
“Fuck Eddie, if you keep doing that ‘m gonna cum,” you moan out breathlessly. 
Eddie stops sucking on your nipples at that, still cupping your breasts as he looks up at you. 
“Don’t do that,” he whispers, face confused and lips pouty, “you don’t have to over exaggerate or fake it because of me.” 
Your heart melts at his words as you take his face in your hands. You hate that you’ve offended him but god he looks so cute right now. 
“oh baby boy,” you coo softly, thumbs stroking his cheeks, “I’m not I promise. I just have like really, really sensitive nipples. I can cum from basically only having them played with” you explain softly. 
“Wait,” Eddie says like you’ve just altered the course of his whole life completely, “that’s a thing?” he almost shouts. 
You giggle fondly at his reaction. 
“Yeah, but it’s not like, super common” you reply with a shrug. 
Eddie can’t believe what he’s hearing. Why did no one tell him nipples could be that sensitive? If he wasn’t already super fucked out and getting embarrassingly close just from grinding and playing with your tits he definitely is now. He’s determined to see for himself, and slightly to try and see if it actually is real, still not quite believing you. 
“Can I- can I try it?” He asks sheepishly, averting your gaze “to make you cum like that?” 
“I would love nothing more,” you reply, and although you are trying to be sweet and do this for him you'd be lying if you said you didn’t absolutely need to feel his soft, plump lips against you again.  
Eddie eagerly goes back to playing with your nipples, moaning and whimpering around them as he feels your sopping pussy making his jeans wet as you grind against him harder and faster than before. Shamelessly chasing your high as you moan and whimper his name, it’s the hottest thing Eddie has ever heard. 
You feel your orgasm build up again moaning as Eddie gives your nipple a particularly hard suck as he pulls the other one. Eddie is right there with you, seeing you so desperate like this, knowing he’s (hopefully) about to make you cum is too much for the poor boy to handle, his dick aching and leaking in his jeans. 
He lets out a particularly loud whine as your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close to you as your legs start to shake. 
“Eddie,” you cry urgently, “you’re gonna make me cum baby, shit-”
Your orgasm washes over you, as you moan and mewl and squirm all over Eddie’s lap clinging to him. It feels so good to finally have him make you cum. 
Eddie’s mouth lets go of your nipple with a loud pop. The combination of you grinding against him, moaning out his name like it’s the only word you know, your perfect nipples in his mouth, your fingers tugging at his hair and especially cumming all over him all become too much. 
He buries his face between your breasts, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close as he coats the inside of his boxers and jeans in his own cum, hips thrusting up to meet yours as you both rut against each other. 
You both pant and cling to each other for a second, coming down from your respective highs. 
After Eddie’s brain starts to clear he pulls back from you, letting his head fall back against the wall with a thud, eyes still closed and panting lightly. 
“Did you just-?” you start to ask. Being cut off by Eddie humming a quick mmhm, you can see his cheeks are flushed as he keeps his eyes shut, no doubt embarrassed about cuming. 
“Fuck thats so hot,” you gasp, pulling him in for a heated kiss. It takes him a second to return the kiss but he does with enthusiasm. 
He breaks the kiss, searching your eyes as he asks “you don’t… think it’s like weird or something?” 
“Of course not Eds, I think that was one of the hottest things ever,” you assure him. He just smiles at you, pulling you back in for another kiss. 
Tagging some people who might be interested : @usedtobecooler @andvys @wroteclassicaly @bimbobaggins69 @hammity-hammer @littledemondani @justmeinadaze @translatemunson @prettyboyeddiemunson @ilovecupcakesandtea @wanturvideo @parkermunson @pxrxcxa @chainsawmunson
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