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#trial and error makes me so happy
nerendus · 5 months
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Vortex didn't save the 300 mods I had collected....This is going to take awhile.
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pandanscafanfiction · 8 months
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thetriumphantpanda · 28 days
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Baby Love | Joel Miller
A Trial & Error One Shot
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Summary | It's coming to the end of lambing season, but there's one sheep left to give birth. Noticing she's struggling, you spend the night trying to soothe her, reflecting on your own experiences in her position.
Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader
Word Count | 2.7k
Warnings | Joel & Pretty Girl are still as horny as ever for each other so this is explicit. Mentions of ranching, sheep and animals giving birth. Mentions of human childbirth and pregnancy (I have never had my own children so please go easy on me), also mentions of how dirty it is when a sheep gives birth (blood/guts ect). Explicit smut including oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV smut IN THE BARN, creampie, Joel being a menace, PRETTY GIRL ALSO BEING A MENACE. No use of Y/N, no-outbreak AU.
Authors Note | It has been such a joy to write Pretty Girl again, I've missed her something terrible, and I'm so happy that the dynamic between her and Joel is still going strong, even if I have abandoned them for a while. I really hope you enjoy this as much as I have enjoyed writing it, and if there are any aspects of this families lives that you'd like to see, feel free to request it in my ask box!
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi
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Lambing season is coming to an end - something you’re eternally grateful for. It’s been a busy few weeks - early mornings and late nights for both Joel and Tommy, leaving you with the twins, Joshua and Ellie to keep entertained. Not that you’d have it any other way - your dysfunctional little family makes you happy every day.
With Joshua at school and the twins with Joel as he took Ellie into town for an appointment, you’re out in the fields with Tommy, making sure the remaining sheep yet to give birth are doing alright. You don’t profess to being an expert, but you’d like to think that your motherly instincts can go beyond humans, knowing when certain sheep are due and when some of them are starting to struggle.
It’s been an easy lambing season this year - most of the girls are seasoned professionals by now, needing only a light touch and a refill of their water more than anything, but there’s one sheep you are worried about. She was from lambing season a few years ago and this will be her first time. When you head into the barn, she’s stood in the corner of one of the pens, moving very little but bleating every once in a while. You know it’ll happen soon, but you’re worried about her.
“Don’t worry your head, sugar,” Tommy soothes, running a hand down the back of your head when it’s time to leave, “It’s nature, she’ll know what to do.”
But, led in bed that night, there’s something that you can’t push from the back of your mind. This worry that takes over you. She’ll be on her own in there, being one of the very last to give birth, and what if she’s scared? What if something goes wrong? You remember how scared you’d been when it came to having Joshua.
So you sigh, push back the sheets, and get dressed. You leave Tommy a note in case he wakes in the night and worries about where you are. You can’t say the horses in the small stable next to the house are enthused about having a torched shined at them in the middle of the night, but thankfully yours doesn’t put up much fuss when you saddle it and make the journey through the dark fields to the barn.
Flicking on the lights, you’re immediately glad you came. The sheep in question is led on her side, breathing laboured and fast. As you walk towards her, she kicks her legs a little and lets out a pained bleat.
“I know baby,” You coo, making sure the gate is shut behind you, “Hurts, doesn’t it?”
You fall to your knees in the soft hay a little way from her, hoping not to spook her, but she doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence. She’s led down near the wall, so you crawl over a little and lean your back against it, stretching your legs out, just to be near her if she needs you.
The sheep lets out another pained bleat but she moves a little, up from her side and onto her feet. She walks closer to you, leaning down to prod your hand with her nose. You let out a little chuckle, letting your hand run down her head. The ranch dog likes when you scratch behind his ears, so you do the same here, which has her settling back down onto her side with her head on your thigh.
“It’s one of the most wonderful things,” You speak to her softly, continuing to pet at her head, “Having babies, but they always forget to mention how much it fucking hurts.”
She lets out another soft bleat, moving her body a little to get comfortable, or as comfortable as is possible when you’re in labour.
Watching her, you can’t help but let your mind wander back to your experience in her position. The first twinges of pain, low in your back that turned into pain everywhere. There wasn't a single position that was comfortable, no way to sit or lie or stand that could take the pain away. Then there was the exhaustion - after hours of waiting and more time pushing and pushing, there were moments when you didn’t think you could do it anymore, that you’d just close your eyes, drift off and wake up with a lovely, healthy baby perched in your arms.
But then, there’s that moment of relief, when the midwife had told you it’s okay honey, one more push and it’ll be done and it was and you could hear him crying and then he was on your chest and you were crying and so was Tommy. No-one ever mentions that bit either - how within seconds you could look down at a baby, your baby, and be completely and utterly in love with him. That’s what made it all worth it. That’s what made you want to do it again. It’s what makes you think you’d do it for the rest of your life if you could, just to have that one moment where that baby is in your arms for the first time.
“It’s worth it though,” You speak down to the sheep, “All this pain will be worth it in the end when we’ve got your beautiful little lamb with us.”
And it is. It’s all a bit dramatic in the end. The lamb gets stuck and you need to offer a helping hand to get it out, but almost immediately the mother sheep is doing exactly what she should, cleaning it off as you do the thing you’ve seen Joel do to help clear it’s airways, sticking a little bit of hay up one of it’s nostrils.
“Look mama,” You coo at the older sheep, a hand on her head as she works to get her little lamb clean, “Look what you did, you clever girl.”
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Joel doesn’t know what he was expecting when he walked into the barn that morning, but it certainly wasn’t to see you on your knees in the hay, rubbing a newborn lamb with straw. He can see from this angle that your clothes are filthy, covered in blood and God knows what else. Did you…? Have you….?
“Pretty girl,” He speaks softly, not sure you know he’s there, “What are you doing?”
You turn to him and it’s clear to see you’ve done exactly what he thinks you have and helped this sheep give birth, the gunk all over your clothes is also wiped across your cheek and forehead.
“She-” You trail off, “The sheep, she was struggling and I didn’t want her to be on her own.”
He opens the gate to the pen, walking in to fall beside you on his knees, “Have you been here all night?” He asks, letting his hands give the small lamb the once over.
“Pretty much,” You nod, “We had a lovely talk, didn’t we?” You ask to the mother sheep who is standing a few steps away, carefully observing Joel as he looks at her lamb.
“Did she do okay?”
“I had to get in there at the end,” You explain to him, “I think it was stuck, so I just gave her a little helping hand.”
Once he’s satisfied that the lamb is okay he shuffles back a little, watching as you do the same, letting the mother sheep have some time with her baby, “You did a good job,” He praises, letting his hand run down the back of you head, “Proud of you, pretty girl.”
He helps you to you feet, bends a little to brush as much stray hay from your jeans as he can before he steps back and really takes you in. It’s unconventional, but there’s something about the fact that you’ve got your hands dirty, spent your night here on your own to help one of his sheep, and the fact that you’re covered in dirt and hay, something about it all makes his jeans go a little tighter, something that he’s not quick enough to hide.
“Are you hard, cowboy?” He hears you tease before you’re stepping forward, “Does the sight of me covered in blood and guts turn you on?”
He rolls his eyes and turns his back on you, leaving the pen now he’s satisfied the sheep will be okay, but he can hear your feet following him and then your hand on his arm to get him to stop.
“You’ve not gone all shy on me, have you?” You speak softly, gently moving him so he turns a little.
“Have I ever been shy, pretty girl?”
“Then tell me,” You shrug, smirk plastered across your face, “Does this,” He watches as you drag a hand over the mess that is your clothes, “Turn you on?”
“You wanna know the truth?” He asks, voice low, “I wanna bend you over and get you to shut the hell up.”
Joel can’t help but let his own smirk show when your eyebrows raise, but it’s a fleeting later in your guise, because you’re turning around, showing him your back as you walk towards the stacked bales of hay in the corner. He can hear the clinking of your belt buckle and the telltale sound of you unzipping your jeans.
He’s stuck to the ground as he watches you pull down your jeans and your underwear, baring your backside to him. You pull them all the way down, letting them pool at your ankles as you spread your legs a little wider, bending yourself over the hay in the exact position he had in his head.
“Come on then cowboy,” You say, head turned over your shoulder to speak to him, “Come and shut me the hell up.”
It’s been an automatic response of his for years now, that when you present yourself to him, in any way, he falls to his knees like someone praying to an altar, and today is no different. He’s on his knees behind you, at just the right height to grip his palms to your ass, spread you open wide for him.
He wastes no time, he rarely does anymore, letting his mouth close over the hole of your pussy, somehow already weeping for him. He lets his tongue dip inside, lapping at your slick. It’s been years and he still doesn’t think he’ll get over how good you taste, how it lingers on his tongue for hours whilst he goes about his day.
Whilst he’s lapping up your slick, he lets one of his hands reach around, thumb searching out your clit, little circles rubbed across the little bud. He listens, feeling his cock throb in his jeans when you let out a gasp and a little moan.
“Not so talkative now, are we, pretty girl?” He mumbles, barely pulling off your pussy to speak, before he’s switching his hand and his mouth, leaning just enough so his tongue can flick against your clit, one of his fingers slipping inside you easily.
He chuckles against you when you moan at the curling of his fingers inside you - he loves when he can reduce you to a whimpering mess in seconds. It doesn’t take him long to feel the telltale signs that he’s going to make you come either. He can feel you start to fluttering around the two fingers he now has buried inside you, can feel the way you try and tighten your thighs around his face, so he carries on exactly how he is - suckling at your clit and moving his fingers in and out of your cunt until you’re coming for him, a high-pitched moan of his name from your mouth.
Joel doesn’t wait, he can’t wait. He stands, making quick work of pushing his own jeans and underwear from his body, finally freeing his aching cock from the tight confines of his trousers. He spits obscenely into his palm, running a tight fist up and down his length a few times before he’s dipping his knees, rubbing the head of his cock against the slick hole of your cunt, listening as he pushes himself inside you, giving you every inch of him as slowly as he possibly can, until he’s sheathed inside your tight heat.
He leans forward, covering your body with his own, his forehead pressed against your shoulder as he gets used to the feeling of you clenching and fluttering around him. He can feel you wiggling a little under him, trying to get him to move, so he brings one of his hands to the nape of your neck, squeezing a little, stopping your movements altogether.
“Keep still,” He warns, “You need to keep still a minute, baby.”
There’s never going to be a time where he doesn’t need to do this. The soft, wet heat of your cunt and those first movements inside you that make him feel like he’s eighteen again, ready to come with a few thrusts.
He gives himself another minute before he starts pulling his cock out of you, slowly dragging through your slick until just the tip is left inside you, then he’s slamming himself back into you, setting a bruising pace.
The sound is obscene - there’s the wet squelch he can hear whenever he pushes his cock back into you, the slapping of his skin against yours and the way you both sound when you’re moaning each others names. He’s not going to last long, he knows it. All of this combined with the fact that anyone could wander in and see you has a thrill settling across his spine.
Joel leans forward again, letting his teeth bite down gently on the skin of your neck. He can feel the way your cunt is clenching, if he can just hold on, just a little longer, he can get another one from you, he knows it.
“Tell me,” He chokes out into your ear, “Tell me how to get you there.”
You let out a loud moan, turning your face to his, kissing him, all teeth and tongue and clumsy, “Bite me again.”
So he does, he lets his teeth sink into the delicate skin of your neck, sucking gently, sure to leave a mark, his hand slinking underneath your belly and down to your pussy, soaked bud of nerves exposed just right for him to use his fingers to swirl across it a few times.
“Oh my God-” He can hear you moaning, “Joel, fuck, please, don’t stop, just like that.”
Within seconds, he can feel you coming on his cock - cunt pulled tight, sucking him in. He feels the gush of slick from your pussy too, cock angled just right to have you squirting for him, something he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of. It’s the tightening of your walls around him that sets his own orgasm off - that flush of pleasure across his body that blooms even more as he empties himself inside you. He can feel everything, the way your pussy clenches every time he gives you more, sucking his spend in as deep as possible.
He pushes himself up off you a little, hands on your hips, frantically sucking in air. He groans a little as he pulls himself from your cunt, standing back to admire how his cum drips from you. He doesn’t linger long, bending down to pull your clothes back up, gentle kiss pressed to the swell of your bottom as he does. He lets you zip yourself up whilst he puts himself right.
“Well, that was a great start to the morning.” You muse, pressing up on your tiptoes, gripping at his flannel shirt.
He’s about to speak when there’s a bleating from the sheep in the pen behind you, you both laugh, “Someone else agrees.”
He dips down, kisses your mouth slowly, gently, “Go and get clean,” He speaks against your lips, turning you around and giving you a tap on your ass as he does, “You’re filthy.”
“Still turns you on though.”
“Go on, get outta here.”
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libraryofgage · 5 months
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Good Vibrations Three
One | Two
I usually try to throw out updates weekly but I got possessed by the muse for Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins and, like, finished the main chapters for that in a daze hfjdk I still need to write the two epilogues, but needed a little break, so here we are!
Part three has Eddie confirming his suspicions, like two seconds of angst that is immediately thrown out the window, and a little flirting UwU
I hope you enjoy! As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ^_^
----
Something hits Steve in the back of the head. He'd be upset if not for the fact that he's facing away from Dustin and gave the kid paper for the express purpose of throwing if he needs Steve's attention. After much trial and error, the system finally works for them.
Steve sets down the plate he was washing (the aftermath of Dustin asking for grilled cheese sandwiches and annoying Steve until he caved) and turns, drying his hands on a dish towel. "What's up?"
Dustin's chest and arms are sprawled across the table, looking for all intents and purposes that he'd collapsed from sheer boredom or frustration. When Steve speaks, though, he sits up straight so Steve can see his mouth properly. "Can you pick me up tomorrow?"
"I thought your mom was."
"She told me this morning that she got saddled with a last minute thing."
Steve frowns, slowly parsing through Dustin's mouth movement and trying to find the shape of words. He doesn't get all of them, but he gets enough to understand the problem. "Oh," he says, "yeah, sure. Right after school?"
Dustin shakes his head, pushing his biology homework away so he can lean forward. "Hellfire is tomorrow. Eddie says it's gonna be in the math classroom. Can you meet me there at 4:30?"
Somehow, Steve immediately recognizes Eddie's name. Unsurprisingly, it makes him think of the guy, and his mind happily offers up the memory of Eddie laughing on stage. Steve struggles to push the memory aside, at least moving it to a corner until he can properly reminisce later.
"Which math room?" Steve asks, hoping Dustin doesn't notice a longer than normal delay in his response.
He doesn't, if his relieved and happy grin is anything to go by. "213," Dustin says. He then pauses, as if suddenly thinking of something. "Also, uh, maybe wait in the next hall or something. Don't let Eddie see you."
"Why can't Eddie see me?" he asks. Has Eddie been complaining about Steve lately? Has Dustin spent the past week listening to Eddie insult or make fun of Steve for...something he did at the Hideout? Did he not act normal enough?
Well, it's probably not that last one. Robin is great at elbowing Steve when someone is talking to him. She's saved him from numerous awkward situations with that move. It's almost worth the bruise he'll inevitably get from her sharp elbow.
"He won't, like, shut up about you," Dustin says, his nose wrinkling some in disgust and distorting the shape of his mouth. He waits until his expression is under control to add, "He can't get over you attending his gig or something. Keeps saying it's weird that "King Steve" likes metal."
"Oh."
Steve feels his shoulders grow heavy, a weight pressing down on him. He can't hear how Dustin is saying the words, and Dustin's expression isn't animated enough for Steve to glean any kind of tone. But experience has taught Steve that Eddie is probably complaining, even if Dustin isn't saying it outright.
Now that he's thinking about it, it probably was weird for Steve to just show up to a heavy metal gig. He's never shown any sign of liking the genre to others before. Then again, he's pretty skilled at passing for completely "normal" to other people. That results in him being King Steve, though, and that version of him might be all that Eddie can see, which would make his appearance at the Hideout pretty fucking awkward, huh?
Steve is so lost in his thoughts and the feeling of remorse and embarrassment and frustration that he almost misses how Dustin rolls his eyes, his shoulders jerking with a scoff. He pays attention just in time to watch as Dustin says, "Yeah, so if he sees you, he'll probably grill you on your favorite bands or something. He's, like, obsessed with figuring out all the other freak things about you. His words, by the way."
It's a lot all at once, and Steve ends up asking Dustin to repeat himself twice before he can fully comprehend everything. Despite the slightly annoyed look, Dustin doesn't complain. When he finally understands each word, that weight lifts from Steve's shoulders, the sudden emotional whiplash making him feel a little floaty.
"That's why he can't see me?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at Dustin and leaning back against the sink.
"Yeah, it'll take forever. It's like when Mom runs into a friend and just stands there talking for a whole hour," Dustin complains, sprawling himself across the table once more when he's done speaking.
Steve snorts and leans over, ruffling his hair and jerking his hand back before Dustin can smack it. "I promise we wouldn't talk for an hour, but I'm not going to avoid Eddie. If he sees me, he sees me."
Dustin doesn't need to know that a small part of Steve really hopes Eddie sees him, deafness and all. And maybe he'll even like what he sees.
----
Eddie Munson is not stupid.
Well, his grades and teachers would beg to differ, so he'll rephrase that.
Eddie Munson is a fantastic DM, which means he regularly takes a big plot twist and sprinkles hints of it throughout each session of a campaign. Doing this means being able to put those puzzle pieces back together, too, and ensuring they lead up to the logical plot twist. So, Eddie's brain is great at seeing some puzzle pieces scattered around and putting them together to make a complete picture, and he's definitely been seeing some puzzle pieces.
Like Steve Harrington never looking over when Eddie first speaks to him. And the way Steve stares at his mouth, his brows slightly furrowed like he's trying to decode something (Eddie would love for this puzzle piece to belong to a "Steve Harrington wants to kiss Eddie Munson" big picture, but he's not delusional). And how Steve needs to be nudged or needs to see someone before realizing they're close to him. And how he didn't seem to understand Eddie's words until he looked down at a notebook Robin had scribbled in.
And that's not even counting the stuff Eddie Munson noticed about Steve in high school. Steve Harrington walked through the halls like someone was hunting him, his shoulders tense and his eyes always flitting around from person to person, like he was scared of someone sneaking up on him. He always seemed to ignore people when they called out to him, and Eddie had once dismissed it as him being an asshole. Steve never actually paid attention in class, either; he'd spend the whole time doodling in his notebook or zoning out while staring at the wall. He didn't even look up when the teacher called on him, and eventually the teachers stopped trying.
So, yeah, Eddie has slowly started piecing the puzzle together, resulting in a picture that he never would have linked to Steve Harrington, of all people. But it's the logical conclusion. It's the brilliant plot twist that makes so much sense when you review previous campaign sessions.
He just needs to test it, to see if he's actually right or if he needs to review the pieces once more.
Eddie's chance comes after Hellfire Club on Wednesday. Their session had finished a little earlier, if only because the players had gotten through Eddie's planned journey faster than intended. The next part couldn't be stopped five minutes in, so Eddie had called it a day and gone to the bathroom while the others talked about their character progression.
In the few minutes it took for him to piss, Steve had strolled into the school and started waiting in the hallway next to the math room. He's leaning against the wall, head tilted down as he reads a small book, his lips turned down into a slight frown as he concentrates.
This is the scene Eddie sees when he rounds the corner, and before he can really think about it, he scurries back to remain out of view. He's not scared of Steve Harrington. He just knows this is the best chance he's got to test his theory. Eddie glances around the corner, watching as Steve turns the page of his book, and he suddenly wants to know what has captured his attention so strongly.
Eddie takes a deep breath and slides around the corner again, sticking close to the wall to remain out of sight. "Hey, Harrington," he says, his volume normal and easy to hear.
Steve doesn't react. He doesn't even twitch or give any indication that he heard Eddie and simply decided to ignore him.
"Haaariiiiingtooonnn," Eddie calls, a little louder and drawing the word out.
Still nothing. Well. Steve frowns a little deeper, turns the page back, and rereads whatever part has tripped him up.
"Steve, you motherfucker," Eddie says, the same volume as before, and this time trying something that might anger him. "Your hair looks ugly," he adds. It's a lie, of course. Steve's hair looks fantastic, and Eddie wants to run his fingers through it.
No reaction, and Eddie is starting to feel brave. He takes a few steps closer, still hugging the wall. "Oh, Stevie," he says, getting a slight grin, "big boy, sweetheart, darling, pretty thing." The endearments easily fall from his lips, hanging in the air with Steve none the wiser.
So. Eddie thinks it's safe to say his theory is correct: Steve Harrington can't hear. And Eddie is suddenly, achingly curious to know more. He wants to see how Steve, with his perfect hair and his stupid little moles and his blinding grin, navigates the world when he can't even hear it. He wants to know how Steve experiences music; he wants to know how many other people know; he wants to know if Steve ever gets frustrated and what he gets frustrated about; he wants to know if Steve's other senses are stronger to balance out his lack of hearing.
He wants to know everything.
Eddie strolls over, standing next to Steve and tapping his shoulder. He feels a little bad when Steve jerks in surprise, sliding back a few steps and looking at Eddie with wide eyes. "Don't do that!" Steve says, his gaze flitting around the hall before he forces himself to calm down and look at Eddie.
"Sorry," Eddie says, hoping his expression tells Steve just how much he means it. "You didn't look up when I called you."
Steve blinks, his lips twitching into an almost wry smile. "I, uh, was really absorbed," he says after a moment, idly holding up his book so Eddie can see "The Bicentennial Man" by Isaac Asimov on the cover.
"Heavy reading," Eddie says, trying to remember if he'd ever seen Steve read science fiction in high school.
Steve shrugs, glancing at the cover with a slight frown. "Dustin and Will were talking about it a few days ago. They seemed to like it. Figured I'd see what the fuss was about," he explains.
"Is it worth the fuss?" Eddie asks.
But Steve doesn't answer because he's still looking at the cover. A few more seconds pass before he sighs and looks up at Eddie. "It's kind of confusing," he admits.
And Eddie can't help himself. He wants the satisfaction of truly knowing he was right, and he wants Steve to know that he knows what's up. So, he asks, "Are you deaf?"
-----
Steve tenses, his shoulders hiking up, and he holds the book closer to his chest like it will somehow shield him. "What....how did you know?" he asks, deciding he doesn't need to try bluffing. Eddie's voice wasn't hesitant. He already knows the answer.
"Just noticed things," Eddie says, shrugging as he steps closer to Steve and grins.
The thing is, Steve hasn't tried hiding his deafness lately. Sure, he would have rather died in high school before letting someone discover he couldn't hear, but now? Now he doesn't really care. He's faced literal monsters; someone just innocently asking if he's deaf shouldn't result in the spike of anxiety that shoots down his spine.
At least, Steve thought he wouldn't care. Apparently, his body didn't get the memo, and years of habit had taken over, putting Steve on the immediate defensive. He clenches his jaw, forces his shoulders to relax, and reminds himself of Dustin's whole "Eddie seems weirdly obsessed with you" comment from the day before.
"Is that a problem or something?" Steve asks, relaxing his shoulder and forcing himself to stay in place.
Eddie pauses, frowning like he hadn't expected Steve to ask him that. "No," he says, the word a little drawn out based on how long his lips linger on the "o" shape. "How long?"
Okay. Steve can handle this. He can already see Eddie's questions following the same path as Robin's and Dustin's when they first learned he was deaf. "I started losing my hearing in elementary school. It was pretty much gone by high school," he explains.
Of all people, Eddie should be the most understanding, right? He probably isn't deaf, but Steve's deafness is something that makes him a freak. Sure, it wasn't super obvious in high school, but it still has to count for something, right? It has to help erase the King Steve persona from Eddie's brain, right?
"That explains a lot," Eddie says, tilting his head slightly and narrowing his eyes like he's trying to filter his memories of Steve through this new lens. "You don't have hearing aids?"
"I, uh, don't usually wear them in public."
"Why not?"
Steve opens his mouth to answer but stops himself. Saying he didn't want people to know in high school would feel shallow, yes, but it would be true. Besides still needing to actually get new ones, he doesn't have much of an excuse for not wearing them now. He frowns slightly, gripping the book in his hand a little tighter. It must make some kind of sound because Eddie's eyes flick down to it before looking back up.
"I didn't want people to know in high school," he finally says, rubbing his thumb over the book's cover in an attempt to expel some of the nervous energy he feels. "If people knew, especially teachers, my grades and stuff would've been blamed on, you know, my deafness. And then my parents would've put me into a special school for others who are deaf or hard of hearing. I didn't really want to get transferred like that, especially in the middle of high school."
"What about now, Stevie? You're not exactly in high school anymore," Eddie says. And did Steve read his lips right? That was his name in the middle, he doesn't doubt that, but...was it changed? There was an extra movement at the end, Eddie's bottom lip pulling back slightly like a long E was thrown in there.
It's not like he can ask, so he shoves the thought away, thinking instead of his crushed and useless hearing aids. His shoulders slump a little at the thought. "My hearing aids are broken, but I don't have enough for new ones yet."
Eddie's eyes narrow again, and he leans a little closer. "Aren't your parents, like, stupidly rich? I mean, I've been to your parties, Harrington, it's not a small house you've got there. Just ask Mommy and Daddy to buy you some new ones," he says.
Steve blinks, trying to grasp the words while also processing just how strongly Eddie's "cigarette smoke-weed-woodsy outdoor" smell overwhelms him. It's not bad (maybe it should be? Steve doesn't think he's ever liked these smells before), but it makes Steve's head feel fuzzy and slow, like he's trying to wade through cotton balls. He blinks again, pushing through the daze to say, "Can you repeat that? You, uh, you spoke too fast."
The smell recedes as Eddie leans back, his lips quirking up into a smile that's more...indulgent than it is mean. "Your parents are rich. Ask them to buy you new ones," Eddie says.
Okay, that's...significantly less words than Eddie said before. Steve frowns slightly, frustration budding in his chest because he wants to know what Eddie said, not what he asked. He feels like he's being left out of a conversation he's actively participating in, and he has to swallow back his immediate, frustration-motivated response.
Eddie doesn't know, he's likely never spoken to a deaf person before. Steve should give him the benefit of the doubt and a little leeway, right? Honestly, Steve is fucking tired of giving people the benefit of the doubt and leeway, but what else is he supposed to do? Blow up? It would be nice in the moment, sure, but the aftermath? The inevitable apology and the potential indignation from the other person? That sounds fucking exhausting. He'd rather complain to Robin later.
"I want to buy my own," Steve says, knowing his sudden shift in demeanor has been noticed by the confused furrow of Eddie's brow.
Before he can say more, Eddie reaches forward, grabbing the sleeves of Steve's sweatshirt. Based on his surprised expression, it was an impulsive move, but Eddie doesn't let go. He just swallows (Steve should not be staring at Eddie's throat like this) and looks at him. "What's wrong?" he asks, and his face is so expressive that Steve doesn't need to hear his tone to know he genuinely cares and wants to know.
Without thinking, Steve blurts out, "I asked what you said. You just repeated what you asked. I want to know everything you said. Every word. I feel like...like you're trying to dumb things down for me, like you don't think I can actually, I don't know, understand everything. I'm deaf, not stupid."
Eddie's eyes widen slightly. "Oh," he says, licking his lips nervously before nodding. "Okay, yeah, it was kind of mean, though," he admits.
"That's worse, actually," Steve says, frowning and gripping the book tightly once more. "I'll just feel like you're mocking me, or getting off on making fun of me when I don't know. Just repeat yourself, word for word."
And Eddie does. He seems uncomfortable doing so, but he speaks a little slower and makes sure Steve can understand each word this go-around. At the end, he adds, "Like I said, kind of mean. Sorry."
Steve watches Eddie for a few seconds before grinning. "It's fine, Eddie," he says, suddenly realizing how close Eddie has gotten and how Eddie is still holding onto his sleeve. And then, to make sure Eddie knows it's okay, he puts on what Robin calls his Bitch Voice and adds, "Besides, Mommy and Daddy don't need to know I've broken another pair. I'd like to live to see next year."
Eddie blinks when he hears the Bitch Voice and perks up slightly, a grin tugging at his lips and his hold on Steve's sleeve tightening slightly. The awkward moment seems to have passed, and Eddie confirms that by asking, "So, what do you really like about heavy metal?"
"I can feel it. Literally. Heavy metal has stronger vibrations, so I can experience it more easily. I don't really know how the words are sung, but I can feel the beat," Steve explains.
"Then, what did you think of our set?" Eddie asks.
He looks a little nervous, and something in Steve settles, relaxing into place. "Like I said, it was great. Especially your song at the end. I haven't really felt a song like that before. Does your band have more original stuff?" he asks. Maybe he can convince Eddie to record some of their songs so Steve can listen to them. Or, even better, just play only their songs at their next gig.
"Of course we do," Eddie says, standing a little straighter and grinning a little wider and looking at Steve like he's put the stars in the sky. "I'll play them for you next time, sweetheart."
Steve blinks at the word he definitely understood at the very end. Before he can ask about it, though, Eddie glances behind Steve and quickly lets go of his sleeve. Not two seconds later, Dustin shoves himself between Eddie and Steve, looking up at him with an eager smile and bright eyes and Steve has the worst feeling.
"Steve! Can we have a movie night at your place?" he asks as the rest of the kids filter in, pushing Eddie further and further back.
"Sure, but you have to call your parents and tell them when we get to my place," Steve says, incredibly grateful he can't hear when Eddie winces at the cheer that comes from the kids.
And then the kids are pushing him down the hall, undoubtedly arguing with each other about what movie to watch first and not giving Steve a chance to say goodbye, or ask if Eddie was serious about playing for him, or ask if Eddie had meant to call him sweetheart or if that was just, somehow, a mistake.
-----
Tag List (the tag list is completely filled up! There definitely wasn't enough room for everyone who requested a tag orz
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vixstarria · 6 months
Text
A remedy for sleeplessness  
Alright, buckle the fuck in.
18+, smut, Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav, explicit, masturbation, fingering, overstimulation, clitoral stimulation, porn no plot
1,300 words
You tossed and turned, unable to sleep. 
Astarion had opened up to you by then, so sweet and vulnerable. About his past, everything that’s been forced onto him. About what it all meant. How he needed to learn his boundaries, figure out his real desires, learn what true intimacy was, learn who he was, outside of who he had been forced to be. You knew it wouldn’t be swift and simple, but you wanted to be there for him every step of the way.  
You thought it would mean taking a step back from anything sexual entirely, and instead spending more time talking, simply being with each other, cuddling, kissing, and maybe slowly reintroducing other forms of touch over time.  
Instead, in typical Astarion fashion, the man had simply embraced chaos.  
His trial and error recovery was anything but linear: he could barely keep his hands off you one day, then he would do no more than give you light kisses and hold your hand for days after that. His actions usually leaned more towards the latter, but you simply never knew what kind of day you were going to have with him. You were constantly on a guiltily hopeful edge.  
The simple truth was, you wanted him. You wanted him all the time. You wanted him to be happy, comfortable, secure, yes, and you were willing to wait as long as you had to, and take it as slow as he needed, letting him take the lead with as much or as little as he was comfortable with. But good gods, you craved his touch.  
And so, after another day of uncertainty, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep.   
You had thought that Astarion, who was lying next to you, had long since drifted off when you suddenly felt his arms wrap around you from behind, his body pressing against yours. 
“My poor, restless dove. I have been neglecting you, haven’t I?"  
“I just can’t sleep,” you murmured back, but frankly even just this sudden proximity made your breath catch for a moment.  
“Too much on your mind, not enough in your body?” he teased. Was he trying to make you feel guilty..? No, that wasn’t like him, and his tone was too playful. Regardless, you couldn’t think of anything to retort with. 
"I... just can’t sleep.” 
“From pent up frustration?” he continued, nibbling on your earlobe. Did he just decide to torture you tonight?  
“It will be from frustration if you don’t stop that!” you hissed back. In response, he released a low, throaty chuckle and slid his hands beneath your clothes, fingers lightly tracing along your skin, making you shiver.  
“I’m willing to bet...” his voice grew dangerously low and husky. “That just from these thirty seconds of me touching you, you’re already sopping wet, darling. Hmm..?”   
All you could do was let out an involuntary whimper as one of his hands slid between your legs. You immediately wantonly opened your thighs as he did that, without a second thought. “So eager...” He let out a quiet, self-satisfied laugh into your hair.  He was, of course, right.  
“Astarion...” you gasped, part from desire, part in concern.  
“Let me take care of you tonight,” he purred in your ear, kissing your neck.  
“You don’t have to...” 
“I want to,” he whispered, slipping your undergarments off your body, until you were stark naked against his still clothed self, your back still against him as you laid on your side in his arms 
His hand was still between your legs, lithe fingers caressing you and spreading your wetness. You felt him hard against your hip through his pants, and tried to reach back and touch him, but he wouldn’t allow you. 
“Uh-uh, none of that or I’ll stop,” he teased. “Just let me do this for you. Lie back and relax...” 
You were too desperately aroused to argue. You closed your eyes and leaned back against him, letting him do whatever he wanted to your body. His fingers had been running up and down your slit, occasionally dipping inside you, but now concentrated on your swollen clitoris, as he slowly drew circles around it with a finger covered in your juices. His other hand was repeating the same movement on the tip of one of your nipples, lightly pinching it from time to time.  
You couldn’t help grinding your hips into his hardness, as you breathed harder, soft moans escaping you. 
“That is my favourite sound in the world,” he whispered as he picked up pace and pressure slightly, making sure his finger stayed soaked.  
It was such a simple, but exquisite and delicate movement – just one finger gliding over your bundle of nerves, just right, sending surges of pleasure all through your body. You were in bliss. And you were insatiable, wanting more and more. 
Astarion gradually stroked you harder and faster, as you quivered. You bucked your hips involuntarily, spreading your legs wider, your moans mounting. His other arm was now holding you tightly against him, as if you might try to escape.  
He was breathing hard too now, intoxicated with your pleasure. He kissed and licked a spot on your neck just below your ear, the spot he knew sent shivers down your spine every time, occasionally running his teeth along your neck. 
“Astarion...” you moaned. “You can bite me, if you want.” You wanted to give him something, anything in return. 
He hummed in acknowledgement but continued to only graze your neck with his fangs.  
HIs finger continued to slide over your clit. It was agonisingly sweet and you felt like you were holding on for dear life, breathless, your muscles tense, but you didn’t want this to ever end.  
As though reading your mind, he groaned in your ear: 
“You can let go and cum, my minx” Gods you loved his voice. “I will give you plenty more of these.” 
You finally allowed yourself to relax and be engulfed by the pleasure. 
Your orgasm came on in sweet, rolling waves, growing in intensity until you arched your back against him, gasping for breath.  
“That’s it...” 
He continued to caress your clit in a steady rhythm. You could just bear it without clamping your legs shut. You could feel your walls clenching in pulses, as you embraced and rode the sensation, reaching back to rake your hand through his hair, and crying out, unable to keep your legs from shaking. 
“Good girl...” 
Your whole body shuddered and you grabbed his hand between your legs, finally incapable of taking it any longer. You twisted and kissed him, hungrily. He returned your kiss as he continued to slowly stroke the length of your slit, staying away from your most sensitive area now. He licked you from his fingers once the kiss was broken.  
You sank and melted against his chest, regaining your breath, as you came down from that dizzying high. You idly wondered if anyone at camp had heard you, but were too spent to care. 
Eventually you lifted your head and gave him another kiss, still tasting traces of yourself on his tongue. 
“What about y-” 
“Shh, love, just sleep.”  
You burrowed into him, wrapping one of your legs around his, as he placed soft kisses on your head, running his fingers through your disheveled hair.  
“I still feel selfish,” you protested. He lightly bit the tip of your ear before holding you tighter.  
“Don’t. I loved every second of doing that to you... And the sound of those sweet moans will live in my mind forever.”  
You were drifting off as you heard him murmur: 
“And we have so many nights ahead of us...” 
~~~~~
Hope you enjoyed, check out my other work
AO3
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circeyoru · 1 month
Note
Can I request soul owner the Reader with yandere Alastor go on a date I can imagine him being exciting and super happy with the reader being calm.
I've been reading anger a lot today so I want to read something funny happy cute anything you know.
By the way I hope you have a nice day 💐
Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}
I'm having a great day! Doing work and getting my phone blown up with you guys' notification here. Thank you guys for the support!!! I will repeat this as many times, I'm just that grateful!!!!
Wholesome fluff time!!!
I'll imagine that Reader/you are the one to ask about going on a date because Alastor would be too hesitant to ask, since he doesn't want to mess things up after you declared your love and wanted things to go at your pace.
Surprise, you make an effort to do what Alastor likes. Alastor's the one to do what you like, so you figured, time for a bit of a flop around. You asked around what Alastor likes to do, the hotel members were no help.
Vaggie says Alastor hates TV and a bunch of modern day technology to the point of making a deal. But with you, he watches anime on your laptop while laying side by side. Huh??? Husk and Niffty said Alastor doesn't do sweets. But he baked you a number of desserts and those were the ones he did as trial and error, he ate all the leftovers because you didn't like wasting things. Charlie says Alastor's always smiling and loves the entertainment and misery of demons. But with you, every time you were down or sad, he's doing all he can to cheer you up. Lucifer was even worse, he said Alastor loves to take care of Charlie like a daughter. You paused him and just left. Nope.
You came to the conclusion that Alastor's preferences were non-existent when it came to spending time with you. The thought made you smile and feel bubbly. Now you had to make the date worthwhile.
As much energy and time it took, also to be secretive. You made it all happen. Of course, you had to tell Alastor's shadows to keep quiet about your plans, they agreed with your headpats.
On the day. You requested Alastor's undivided attention and time. He was confused and came to you on the dot, only to regret not appearing more charming when you said it was a date. You had to hold onto him so he doesn't teleport through the shadows to fix up his looks.
"You look just fine!"
"No! It's our first date! I must look perfect! BETTER THAN PERFECT!"
You started with a stroll through a garden, hooking his arm with yours as you walked along the path. Alastor's silence was because he was still shocked and didn't dare to speak thinking he'll say something wrong. So you started small talk.
Then you brought him to Cannibal Town. Setting him down on a table and Rosie distracted him enough for you to slip into the kitchen to cook him his meal. Lucky you practiced and didn't take long cause Alastor was about to search for you in his giant demonic form. You appearing with a trollery had him sit back down and Rosie left with a giggle. Alastor stared at the plate in front of him. You cooked him something? Is he in Heaven?
"Darling, I think Heaven's a bit too red and hot."
"Just eat and tell me how it taste."
Alastor was talking, wrong word, praising your cooking. He even said the two of you could cook sometime back in the hotel kitchen. You agreed to his joy. After that, you brought Alastor to the town square, jazz music played and you offered your hand, telling him to teach you some of his moves. He happily did so and other cannibals joined in on the dance party.
At the end of the day, you brought Alastor to the forest and sang him a song *Everytime We Touch*, using his microphone staff as a mic. He secretly recorded your voice too. You didn't mind since this was both of you's first date.
"So? How was the date? You like it?"
"Darling Love," Alastor suddenly brought you into a swirl and dipped you, "This is the third best day of my afterlife."
"What's the first and second?"
"Second is the day you defended me and confessed your love to me." Alastor straightened you up and brought you close to him, "The first is the day we met."
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swordsmans · 5 months
Text
oh shit! i made a book.
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remember back in september when i said i was going to learn bookbinding. well! weeks of trial and error later, i've finally finished my very first bind! as some of you might have seen in past posts, i decided to focus on my 90k zolu mermaid/mafia au the sea makes bones of bodies and now here we are!
the bind itself is a relatively simple 320 page cased-in flatback with a fabric spine and lotka paper covers and endsheets, but i decided to use it as a "test book" to learn a little bit of everything. so! it features hand-traced gold foil on the cover and spine, a hand-beaded bookmark tipped with a genuine shark tooth (iykyk), and what im calling "cookies and cream" speckled edges (lol)
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ive posted some screenshots of the typeset already so i wont go too crazy, but im actually pretty happy with how it looked all put together!! i sewed my signatures together too tightly, i think, so it kind of wants to flop closed (rip) but i tried to take some pictures of how it turned out!
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i have a ton of pictures of the text body itself (and fun things like the playlist page, the title pages, etc) but this post is already long enough, haha.
the absolute best, best, best part of this whole project was a huge, wonderful, amazing surprise from @fluffyartbl0g that brought the whole project together!!! they were sweet enough to send some incredible art (!!!!) that i sewed into the front and back!!!
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!!! AAA!!!!
overall, i learned so much and i took a ton of notes so i'll (hopefully) avoid some of my beginner mistakes when i do this again. i already have three more versions of the text block printed out and pressing right now! >:3c im going to keep practicing with this story for at least three more binds (because i want to get my technique down and i have some new ideas i want to try), and then switch to typsetting ocean theology and attempt a thinner 40k bind.
shoutout to renegade publishing for their wealth of technical help, and a big huge thank you to the dumbass zone for watching blurry videos of me flipping through printer paper at 3AM and just generally being so, so supportive while i learned all these new skills. you guys are the best!!
now... on to the next one!
EDIT: i've been asked for the typeset, so if you are interested in binding this yourself, you can find all the files here!! :D if you do make your own copy, i would love to see!!! PLEASE TAG MEEE!!!! :DDD
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scarletts-scribbles · 3 months
Text
Spice Up Your Life
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⁀➷ Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
⁀➷ Notes: Just a small idea I thought could be really cute :) If anyone has requests/ideas please send em over!
⁀➷ Summary: Natasha admits to you that she never really learnt how to cook, luckily you're more than happy to teach her.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Natasha knew you were cooking from the moment she’d gotten home. The smell of oil and fresh vegetables hung in the air, wrapping her in a sweet aroma, as she hung up her coat Nathan couldn’t help but smile to herself as she made out your low humming coming from the kitchen. A slow happy tune gracing your lips.
She loved coming home to you cooking. Not only was it something you enjoyed but you always made something delicious for her and she was always beyond grateful.
Truth be told, she was a little jealous of your culinary skills. Sometimes the redhead would just linger at the kitchen door, leaning on the wooden frame whilst she watched you effortlessly guide a knife to chop ingredients or she’d come to your side and help you plate your meals. It was somewhat enchanting to her to see you in your element.
Tonight was no different. Natasha finished taking off her coat and slid off her boats, placing them on the small rack by the front door before making her way to the kitchen.
She couldn't resist the urge to sneak up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder. "What's on the menu tonight?" she inquired, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.
“Well let’s see, I’ve got some fresh peppers from the market and we’ve got those left over noodles.” You explained as you continued to dice up a garlic glove, “I was thinking maybe a stir-fry, how does that sound?”
“Stir-fry sounds amazing.” She smiled and planted a soft kiss on your cheek and peered over at the ingredients. Nat pursed her lips for a moment before stepping back to admire how you navigated the kitchen so easily.
“So.” Natasha began but paused for a moment, causing you to stop and look back at her. She seemed to be blushing a little, her cheeks a darker red, “How do you know how to prepare everything so well? You do it so easily, I’ve never been able to do anything like this.” She mumbled quietly, her gaze not quite meeting your eyes. It was something you’d learnt that she did when she was embarrassed, “I never learnt how…”
You chuckled softly, turning to face Natasha, "Well, it's just something I picked up over the years. Trial and error, you know?" You noticed her hesitancy and added, "But if you want, I'd be more than happy to teach you some tricks?”
Natasha smiled widely, unable to stop the corners of her lips curling up, her eyes seemingly sparkled with excitement. “You’d do that?”
You turned to face her, surprised but amused. "Of course darling, it's never too late to start learning. How about you help me finish making this? I'll teach you the ropes as we go.” You smiled, washing off your knife before offering it out to her.
Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. "Are you sure you want to risk it? I might burn the kitchen down."
“Well it’s lucky that I live with a very strong Avenger who can elegantly carry me to safety, isn’t it?”
Natasha muffled a giggle, shaking her head a little as she kissed your cheek. You returned the gesture softly before guiding her towards the cutting board, you handed Natasha an orange pepper. "Here, hold the pepper like this, and let's start with a simple chop." Your hands gently covered hers, guiding her hands gently with the knife, slicing through the vegetable as you demonstrated, “See? You've got this."
As Natasha started to chop the pepper with your guidance, she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. "I might not be as smooth as you, but I’ve love to cook for you sometime - only once I get a little better of course, wouldn’t want to poison you.”
You chuckled, nudging her playfully with your hips, “I think I’d love that Natty.” With a wink, you handed her a pan, showing her how to heat it up and explaining the order of ingredients and how to know when each one was ready. It didn’t take long to explain your seasonings either, she was so eager to take it all on. “We could make this a regular thing if you’d like? Start making meals together from now on?”
Natasha's eyes lit up with excitement. "I'd like that very much," she replied, a genuine warmth in her voice. As you both continued to cook together, the kitchen filled with laughter and the sizzling sounds of the oil. It was the beginning of a new tradition, where the joy of cooking intertwined with the joy of being together and you couldn’t be more proud of the progress she’d made.
✧・゚: *
〚 Masterlist! 〛 ೃ༄ 〚Join My Taglist! 〛
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comicaurora · 4 months
Note
Hi! I finally got the chance to read Aurora a bit ago. It's a wonderful story--all I was expecting and better! I was particularly amazed and delighted by the artwork and visual mechanics used to tell the story, so I wrote a post to yell about how cool it is and break some of it down. (No criticism, just praise.) I'm mostly a hobbyist, so I'm hoping I've done it justice.
That said: zero pressure to read it or respond to this ask. Normally I wouldn't send it since I tagged, but I know Tumblr's notifs are a mess and things get lost very easily. I've been in both the "one (1) word of praise will feed me for a year" and the "oh gods don't talk about my writing/art because anything that seems Off will break my brain" modes before, and I absolutely don't want to push or make you uncomfortable!
If you are comfortable, however, I wanted to ask about your use of what I'm assuming are Screen and blending modes in sound effect words. (I'm only guessing that's the technique, though, so I could be totally wrong about how it's done! I'm mostly experienced in image manipulation in Photoshop.) Making them semi-transparent over the actions is genius :) What inspired you to do that, and are there specific techniques you use to make it work?
Same questions go for using specific colors to distinguish different characters' words and actions. I really noticed it in the cave sequence with Falst and Dainix, since their colors are so vivid in the dark (ex. Falst's little swats and Dainix's swooping kick at 1.20.9). It lends excellent clarity to busy scenes.
Thanks! Have a lovely day, enjoy your break, and happy holidays <3
You're correct about the technique! "Screen" is the blend mode I use most often for sound effects. I stumbled on it mostly through trial and error - I love how sound effects add depth to a comic panel, but it's very easy for them to obscure the art in a way I find counterproductive, so "Screen" lets me put the sound effect directly over the origin of the sound while still letting it be visible through the word. Early chapters didn't have it as much-
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Most of the sound effects in early chapters are just solid colors with reduced opacity if I'm feeling fancy. But I started figuring it out around chapter 8 and 9, because Falst is kind of a sound-effect-heavy guy, especially in his fight scenes.
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In order to make sure they don't impede the visibility of the action, I'll often soft-erase the top or bottom half of the SFX to reduce its opacity while still leaving it readable.
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I'll usually double that up with an outline on the SFX so it's still readable. This is an especially important consideration if the SFX goes over an area of the background that's very bright or glowing.
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Color-coding the speed lines and SFX to the character or force causing them isn't a hard and fast rule, but I like using it (in part because it's a habit from the OSP illustrations, where every character has a single pop of color in their lineart) mostly because it sort of codes every sound to make it clear where it's emanating from, or the general feeling of the sound. Since I normally do character-colors for SFX, something like this stands out more jarringly-
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Which it's supposed to, but a big lightning strike doesn't register as anything too worrying because it's just Tess up to her usual shenanigans.
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It's also very useful for magic effects, because each form of magic has its own associated palette.
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And when I had a very complicated fight scene in a dark environment, I used the texture pattern I'd already made for the monster to color its SFX, so when I Screened them onto the panels they didn't obscure too much while still communicating "this is something else."
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Changing the weight, lined-vs-not-lined, and opacity of the SFX words also helps to communicate that not every sound has the same feeling. A strong motion is solid and aggressive, but a crackling, unstable sound is more ephemeral and staticky.
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It's definitely been a process of learning as I go - looking back at the earlier chapters I can actually see when I first tried various tricks I now use regularly, like doubling and distorting an SFX to produce the effect of a camera-shaking impact. I haven't really seen any other comics that do it like I do, probably because most other comics follow a more traditional production pipeline where text bubbles and sound effects get locked into the composition early, before the inking stage, because traditional physical comics don't have digital-art layers to play with. Adding sound effects to a page is almost the last thing I do before exporting them, and that only works because digital art and layers allow for a ton of flexibility.
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kekaki-cupcakes · 7 months
Note
Hiiii! How are you hanging?
Warning: periods? Not sure if it’s a warning. If it is or it makes you uncomfortable I am so so sorry it was not my intention
Could you write for Leo Valdez being his s/o’s biggest simp and like acting as heater and heating pad especially when she’s on her period and building her lots of gadgets for basically anything he thinks she may need?
Feel free to skip this obviously!
Sorry again and have a lovely day!
Bye! (Ps I have reade your Nike one for about 20 times now and it still is so fun and amazing! ‘Cant wait for the Hypnos one!)
I'm working on so much rn so this is just a short head canon list that sort of derailed but it was so cute to write. I'm glad you liked the Nike one, and the Hypnos fic was just posted I hope you find it <3
And period talk doesn't make me uncomfortable don't worry I'm fine with writing lots of that kind of stuff I just have like, limits with smut and age gap kind of stuff [I'm also a minor]
This header just gave me like, hot water bottle cover vibes and matched the rest of it too, hope you enjoy!
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Hotboy/Hotpack---Leo V x gn reader on their period
»»————- ★ ————-««
-No but like he’s literally perfect for the job
-Who else is better at laying down as a weighted blanket and heating himself up to perfect temperature and then just literally fiddling with rubix cubes while you use him as a hot water bottle
-He’d be so happy to as well, like it was the best job in the world [which it is to him, he gets cuddles as well as being a good boyfriend. It’s a win win]. Even if you didn’t ask, he’d catch you microwaving a wheat pack while you take painkillers in the camp kitchen and sneak up behind you and hug you. Or maybe he’d lay across the counter dramatically, 
-‘mi amor are you replacing me? Why would you do this? I love you, and now there's other guys in your life!’
-‘it’s literally a hot water bottle’
-‘No! I must win you back!...Come on let’s go make out-’ 
-Then he’d take the hot water bottle away and smother you in kisses [if you felt like it] and drag you back to your cabin. He’d bring your favorite snacks and steal Pipers Ipad, the one with the hello kitty stickers, and you’d watch movies to pass the time. 
-He’s the type to try those different rubbing points on your stomach to help with cramps [gods his hands are so fine, but that’s besides the point] and even if they didn’t work you’d get a massage out of it <3
-So we’ve all agreed Leo is the little spoon, right? 
-He’d act so tough and macho, spooning you to heat up his hands on your stomach but then you rolled over in your sleep once and woke up to him grinning his head off while you hugged him
-Of course you figured it out and now you’re the big spoon because he’s just so small and cuddly, like a teddy bear [even if he’s a bit boney] and when you get cramps it works even better. He’s like a life sized heat pack pressed against you, and he always holds you hands as well because he’s just like that :D
-He has the softest curly hair when it isn’t covered in sawdust and grease, and when he lays his head on your chest or that little spot between your neck and your shoulder you could just run your hands through it. Or maybe put little plaits in it. He’d love that. Touch is definitely his love language, once he realizes he does deserve it, as well as gifts and acts of service.
-Gifts and acts of service is a subconscious thing for him that he doesn’t even realize he does and likes until he spots the shelf next to your bed filled with all the little things he’s made. Gold or silver jewelry [he quickly figured out which one was favorite through trial and error you didn’t even notice], little metal flowers he’d welded with his fingers, which were literally made with love. There’d be things like lollies and packets of gum he’d realized you liked and promptly bought when he went out, fairy lights he’d made in the shape of hearts, candles with your favorite scents he’d made from when Hazel had a wax-y crafts phase, and more. 
-If you ever gave him something in return, he’d probably cry
-But he knows you love him and he definitely knows he loves you [as well as the rest of CHB lol]
»»————- ★ ————-««
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lachiennearoo · 7 months
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How to Make Friends
A more-or-less clear guide on social interactions
Growing up with heavy ADHD and generalized anxiety, it was always a bit hard for me to make friends and socialize. Despite my yearning for friendship, I was always "the quiet one" and "a loner", simply because I didn't know how to approach certain social situations, and it made any friendship I had extremely unstable (except for my sister @vive-le-quebec-flouffi, who was so extroverted and friendly it was literally impossible to escape her clutches of socialization)
As I grew older, I learned through a lot of trial and error what makes a good friendship.
Or, rather... what's the best way for someone to WANT to be your friend (without being superficial or hypocritical.)
Now, obviously, this doesn't work for everyone. But this is what I found helped me the most in social circles (especially online) and I hope it can help others too
LET'S BEGIN!
1 - Be yourself
Now that sounds very cliche and cringe, I know, but hear me out, because my opinion on this is not the same as all those feelgood inspirational movies and ads.
"Being yourself" isn't as simple as it seems. Because after all, what does "self" imply? If someone is, say, a criminal, would "be yourself" mean that they should embrace their sinful side?
No, obviously not.
"Be yourself" is a bit more nuanced, but I'll try to boil it down for you.
It just means "be unashamed of your qualities which you think are flaws". For example, "be yourself" would apply to someone who sees themselves as ugly, or maybe someone with an odd yet unharmful hobby, or a weird sense of fashion, or someone with say a handicap, a speech impediment. "Be yourself" is a sentence for the specific people who have genuine good in them, but are afraid to show it to others because they have been persecuted in the past, or are scared to be. It does NOT mean to accept genuine flaws. "Be yourself" does not include say violent anger issues, an addiction, a recent crime committed, or a generally unpleasant personality. Those are obviously not things to encourage. You can understand they may be a thing that happen to you, and accept it in your life, but that's different from being proud of it or encouraging it.
Speaking of personalities... let's talk about that
2 - Be kind
Now when some people hear that, they think it means "always smile no matter what, always look happy and positive, always agree with everyone just so you don't hurt their feelings, and never cause any drama", like you're Deku in My Hero Academia or Steven Universe in his titular show.
But that's... not quite that.
Obviously, kindness is something you use to help people feel better, to cheer up, and feel happy, and obviously to be kind, you need to have compassion, heart, empathy, and always put yourself in other people's shoes regardless of who they are. But it is not necessarily all-encompassing.
There's a rule that I think anyone learning kindness must learn. It's that sometimes, kindness means to be firm.
Not mean, of course. Not judgmental, not insensitive. Don't insult anyone, don't belittle or patronize anyone or make them feel inferior to you. That's still very rude and that's not what you want.
But what I mean is that sometimes, if you know that a person's actions towards something are wrong, especially if it's towards someone else, you must be able to point it out, and act accordingly. Don't just stand there and agree with them just because you don't want to hurt their feelings. You must still be able to know right from wrong. Kindness just means you won't be an ass about it, it doesn't mean to stay silent.
Hey, that brings me to point three!
3 - Show your own opinions
If there's one thing people hate just as much as meanness, it's those who stand by and do nothing about it.
Regardless of if you agree with them or not, if you say absolutely nothing when genuinely bad behaviour is happening, out of fear of "starting a fight", you are actively making the person who is being attacked feel alone.
I remember myself, when I was bullied in the first two grades of secondary school (11-13 years old for those who don't know) for "being ugly", I was told by my mother (who was friends with other kid's parents) that some of the kids "didn't hate me" and "didn't agree with the bullying". And I asked her "if they don't hate me, why won't they talk to me?" She never managed to answer that one. And it broke my heart, because outside of my sister, I had no one else.
Don't be like that. You may be scared of acting, but you know who would be grateful if you did act? The victims. And isn't their opinion of you much more important than the opinion of someone who acts with hatred and bigotry?
If you see someone suffering injustice, or even just hear someone who has a rather harmful opinion, don't be scared to tell them that you disagree. Obviously don't be an asshole about it, stay civil, but if you voice out your opinion, you will be seen as someone who stays true to their beliefs and is brave enough to stand up for them if the opportunity comes.
There's obviously much more that comes with social life (nonverbal cues, sense of humor, timing and mood), and I don't know everything (I'm just some random québécois girl on the internet). But I hope this was a bit more helpful. I did have fun writing this, at least. So I guess that's better than nothing!
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thetriumphantpanda · 8 months
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Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Monday)
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Summary | Day One of your trip to the lake house with Joel and you can't keep your hands off each other. It's all about making up for lost time.
Warnings | Fluff, 2(3?) lovesick fools, mentions of food and alcohol, explicit smut, breeding kink, oral sex (F & M Receiving), unprotected PiV sex (We can't all have a sexy Joel Miller to make us pregnant, please wrap it up), talk of UTI's (Honestly, not worth it, PEE AFTER SEX PLEASE), as always, Tommy kinda getting cucked and Joel just being Joel.
Word Count | 5.1K
Authors Note | The love that this series has received already, without me even posting a chapter has been overwhelming and I am so grateful to you all for being so enthusiastic about this. This little trio means more to me than you can ever imagine and I'm so incredibly happy to be able to bring them back to you. I would love to know what you think about this first instalment, so please leave your comments, reblogs and my ask box is always open if you want to scream about this with me. If you enjoyed this then please consider leaving me a tip on my Ko-Fi here.
SEASON TWO OF TRIAL & ERROR. Read the first instalment here (This probably won't make sense without it.)
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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You press a kiss to Joshua’s forehead as he keeps his hands around Tommy’s leg. He’s four now, toddling about, like a perfect little human, and still, whenever you see him, your chest swells with happiness and love in a way you didn’t think would still be possible. 
“You be good for daddy, okay?” You smile, ruffling the hair on top of his head, before bending down to his height, opening your arms for him to fall into as he hugs you, “I’ll be back soon, I promise, and I’ll call every day.” 
A whole week away from your baby boy was daunting. You don’t think you’ve ever spent longer than twenty-four hours without him, but you know he’s in good hands. His dad knows what he’s doing, you’re not worried. 
Tommy has picked Joshua up into his arms, the little boy clutching onto the collar of his shirt as he leans down to lock his lips with yours. You smile into his kiss, letting your hands drop to his waist to pull him a little closer to you. 
“You make sure you give the old man a run for his money, okay?” He smirks when he pulls away, hand running over your hair. 
“He’ll wish he hadn’t come up with idea.” You whisper back, one last chaste kiss to Tommy’s lips and Joshua’s head. 
“You ready?” Joel asks from across the truck, sliding into the driver’s side. 
“Yeah, I’m ready.”  
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Joel is nervous. He very rarely feels like this in his older age, especially when it comes to speaking to Tommy. They’ve grown up together, he basically helped raise him, had countless awkward conversations with him, including the one that got him here in the first place, waiting patiently for his birthday so he can steal away his girl and have one night with her all to himself, but he’s still nervous. 
It's the end of summer, Sarah will be leaving for college in the next few days, dead set on becoming a doctor, so Joel’s decided the only way to celebrate his little girl going off and doing what neither he nor his brother could do, and to ease the impending loneliness he’s going to feel at having this big house all to himself, is a cookout. He’s fed everyone, spent time keeping Joshua amused so you and Tommy can eat in peace, and now, a few beers in, he thinks he’s ready. 
He walks down to Tommy, who is cleaning the grill off, listening to the sounds of you and Sarah chasing Joshua around his garden, trying to tire him out. He puts his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and squeezes and they share a smile between them. 
“You alright, brother?” Tommy asks, brushing down the last of the grill. 
“I’m good,” Joel replies simply, “But I have something to ask you, a favour.” 
“Anythin’ for you brother.” He smiles, setting down his cleaning tools and picking up his beer. 
“I know we never discussed it, between us, but what happens between me and her, it makes me happy, y’know?” 
Tommy’s smile gets bigger, and Joel knows that because it’s all his brother has ever wanted for him, to be happy, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so grateful for the man in front of him. 
“I know second time around it’s takin’ longer than we’d all like,” Joel sighs, you’d all been trying for months for the second baby – people had told you second time around was easier, but whoever decided that was a damn liar, “I just wondered, y’know, ‘cause she’s stressed and all, whether I could take her away?” 
“Take her away?” Tommy asks, eyebrow cocked with his lips on the bottle of beer. 
“Not from you,” Joel stutters, “Just for a week, somewhere quiet, I don’t know, the lake or somethin’, just see if her relaxin’ might help things.” 
“Where were you thinkin’?” Tommy asks. 
“I’ve been lookin’ and there are some nice places up in Colorado,” He rubs the back of his neck, not wanting to admit to his brother that he’s trawled the internet late at night trying to find somewhere he can afford, that in his mind he has it all planned out, “Close enough that we can get back if anything happens with Josh.” 
“I don’t know that she’ll get the time from work, Joel,” Tommy sighs, “It ain’t that I don’t want her to go, I know she’d love the time away, but she’s pressed.” 
Joel turns around and follows Tommy’s eyeline, you’re sitting on the grass with your back against the veranda, watching as Sarah plays with Joshua a little further away. Your head is leant back against the wood and Joel can tell you’re exhausted. A full time job, plus being a mother, whilst Joel’s got Tommy working longer and longer hours so they can finally get their business off the ground properly. 
“When was the last time she was anythin’ but a mother?” Joel asks, turning back to his brother, “Come on brother,” He pleads, “We can give her a break, give her the chance to be just her again,” Then he decides to sweeten the deal, “I’ll even give you the week off work.” 
“You really don’t have to beg me Joel,” Tommy insists with a smile, “If she can get the time off work, then you can have her.” 
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You’re three hours into the drive. Joel has insisted he can make it in one go, with a few comfort breaks on the way, despite it being a twelve-hour drive, but you’re not going to argue with him. He’s well and truly in charge this week and you’re more than happy to relinquish control to him. It’s nice, having someone else worry about you, whether you’ve got enough snacks to keep you going, whether you need to stop to use the bathroom, whether you need to close your eyes and take a nap, as opposed to you worrying about doing that for your son. 
Joel is tapping his hands on the steering wheel. Sarah had made him a mixtape before she left, supposedly full of the songs they used to listen to in the car together, though you can’t imagine Joel had allowed much Taylor Swift judging by how fast he was to press skip when the familiar sounds of Teardrops On My Guitar started playing through the truck. He’s just finished singing along to Bon Jovi, a smile on his face as he looks at you. 
“I love your voice,” You smile, running your fingers lightly up the arm that is resting near you, his warm palm on your thigh as he drives, “It’s not too late y’know, to make it big with your guitar.” 
He snorts but with a smile on his face, “I was never any good at bein’ on stage, always got choked up and froze,” He turns his head to you a little, “I’m happy to just save my singin’ for you.” 
The CD he’s got playing skips to the next song and the sounds of Destiny’s Child’s Survivor start filling the car. Joel is already moving to press skip so you grip hold of his wrist. 
“Don’t you dare,” You warn, “This is such a good song.” 
“Sweetheart, come on, you don’t really wanna listen to it.” 
You chuckle at him, “You’ve listened to everything you wanted, just give me this one song.”
“If I’m lettin’ you listen to this,” He growls, “Then you’re gonna owe me.” 
“Is that right?” You play coy, “And what do you deem suitable payment for a single Destiny’s Child song?” 
You watch his face, still trained straight ahead on the highway, but with that smirk that you always love to see from him. It means he’s thinking something filthy and filthy Joel is something you simply cannot get enough of. You watch as his eyes meet yours momentarily and then drop to his lap. If you hadn’t been so focused on his face, you’d have missed it, but your eyes trail down his body where you can already see him growing in his jeans. 
You lean back in your seat, nodding to yourself, “Joel Miller, grown man, wants me to suck his cock whilst he drives, just like a horny teenager.” 
He brings a hand to the back of your neck and squeezes, trying to gently drag you forward, “I’ve waited a fuckin’ year to have you to myself, pretty girl,” He speaks lowly, “Didn’t think I was gonna wait for a bed, did you?” 
You chuckle but move to undo your seatbelt. He keeps his hand resting on the back of your neck, but it’s gentle. He doesn’t pull you towards him, just waits for you to set your own pace. You reach across the console of the truck with your hand, palming him through his jeans, reveling in the way his head tips back and he lets a long sigh fall from his lips. 
“You missed me, huh?” You tease, bringing your fingers up to the button on his jeans, you should have known he had something planned when he turned up without his belt on. 
“You seriously askin’ me if I missed you?” He asks as you pop the button and drag his zipper down slowly. 
You lean over, lips pressing a chaste kiss to the scruff on his jaw, “Boost my ego, Joel Miller,” You whisper into his ear as your hand sneaks underneath the waistband of his underwear, “Tell me how much you missed me.” 
He lifts his hips for you a little so you can shuck his jeans down just enough to pull his cock out. You lean over, Joel’s wide palm still resting at the nape of your neck as you fist him, running your hand up and down his length. If you were a stronger woman you’d tease him, but you’re as desperate for him as he is for you, so you bring your mouth right to him, swirling your tongue over his tip, lapping up the drops of pre-cum that are waiting for you. 
Your wrap your lips around him and swallow him down as far as you can take him without him hitting the back of your throat, using your hand to pump the length your mouth doesn’t reach, swirling your tongue around him as you pull your mouth back up. 
“God fuckin’ damn, babygirl,” Joel groans above you, hand tangling in your hair as you continue to bob your head up and down on him, “You’ve done this before.” 
It strikes you in this moment that in the four or so years you and Joel have been together like this, he’s never once let you put your mouth on him like this. Before Joshua, he had always been hyper focused on your pleasure, whether you felt good, and in the years since, in those few short hours you had together, he’d never once asked for it, had stopped you when you tried, he’d only ever come for you when he was fucking you. 
You sneak your hand lower, cupping his heavy balls in the palm of your hand as you take him further down your throat. The added sensation of your hand has him bucking his hips up into your mouth enough that you have to pull away from him, coughing and spluttering. 
“Shit, I’m sorry,” He worries, taking his hand from your head, “Are you okay?” 
“Focus on the road, Miller,” You demand, moving to get right back down to business, “If I choke to death on your cock that’s my business.” 
“Kinda hard to focus on the road when I’m seconds away from filling your mouth, pretty girl.” You can hear the strain in his voice as you start working his cock again, pulling off only long enough to reply. 
“That’s what I want,” You whisper, “You gonna come down my throat Joel?” 
“That what you want?” He grunts from above you. 
“Wanna taste you.” 
“Well pretty girl, you just keep goin’ and I’ll give you what you want.” 
He stays true to his word, and after a few short minutes, he’s gripping a fistful of your hair, breathing your name out, as his cum spreads across your tongue. Salty, masculine, musky, but distinctly Joel, and you think from this moment on you might be hooked on the taste of him. 
You pull back up, sitting back in your seat, Joel turning his head to watch you as you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out just enough to show him what he’s given you. Then, you close your mouth and swallow every last drop, wiping the small amount that had gathered in the corner of your lips back into your mouth.
“Jesus,” Joel breathes, “You’re somethin’ else, baby.” 
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It’s late evening by the time you and Joel arrive at the lake house. It’s dark so you can’t properly take in your surroundings, but it’s peaceful and quiet, and when you step out of the truck, it smells different. The smell of pine and fresh water fills your senses and it’s at this moment you realise you really needed this – a break away from the suburbs and the city you’re so used to. 
You make a simple dinner of chicken and roasted vegetables, washed down with lukewarm beer that hadn’t had a chance to properly chill. Joel insists on doing the dishes, silently cursing he didn’t pick a cabin with a dishwasher. The more time he has to spend washing up, the less time he can spend buried deep inside you, which is what he wants most right now. He’s hungrier for you than he’s ever been, you having refused his offer to pull off the highway so he could return the favour earlier. 
You’ve taken two fresh beers from the fridge outside with you. He can see you sitting on the small swing seat on the porch, taking small sips of your drink as you wait for him. You’re on the phone to Tommy, letting him know you arrived safely and then he can hear your voice change as you speak to Joshua – more high-pitched than normal. The conversation doesn’t last long, Tommy clearly needing to put Joshua down to sleep, so you’re hanging up the phone in no time. He notices you shiver through the window, so he digs out one of his flannels from his bag that hasn’t made it to the bedroom and takes it out with him, draping it across your shoulders. He takes a seat next to you, his thigh touching yours, as you hand him his beer. 
“I bet this view will be beautiful tomorrow.” You muse, taking another sip of your drink. 
“I don’t know,” He speaks back softly, looking at you, “It’s pretty perfect to me already.” 
You can feel your face grow hot at the compliment, but you smile. Joel drapes his arm across the back of the bench, and you automatically shuffle in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as his hand trails up and down your arm. 
“So, how have you really been in that house without Sarah these past few weeks?” You ask, hand coming to rest on his thigh. 
“It’s been strange,” He answers honestly, “But I’m so proud of her, my little girl training to be a doctor.” 
Your heart swells because you’re pretty fucking proud of her as well. She’d worked so hard to get into medical school the past few years, finally settling on what it was that she wanted to do, and you have no doubt that she’s going to find some incredible medical breakthrough during her career. 
“Still don’t know where she got her brains from,” He grumbles, “Sure as hell ain’t from the side me and Tommy got ours.” 
You swat your hand to his thigh, “What have I told you about being kind to yourself?” You chastise, earning a low laugh from him, “Don’t sell yourself short, you started your own business Joel, not everyone can do that.” 
He nods, but you think it’s more to placate you than understanding his worth, but you decide to let it lie, “You know, she’s not far from here,” You offer, “If you wanted, you could go and see her.” 
“I’d like that,” He smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ll call her tomorrow, gonna have to think of a white lie as to why I’m all the way out here though.” 
“I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can think of something.” 
It’s silent for a while between you. Listening to the wind rustle the leaves on the trees is soothing. Pair that with Joel’s gentle tracing up and down your arm, and the way he’s slowly rocking the swing with his foot on the ground, and you’re almost ready to fall asleep. 
“Hey Joel,” You whisper, leaning your head up towards him, he answers with a hum of acknowledgement, “You wanna take me to bed?” 
He leans down, pressing his lips softly to your own, “I thought you’d never ask.” 
You stand, extending your hand to his, which he takes, letting you lead him back inside. Because he’s used to it, the routine of checking the locks at home, he makes sure he double checks all the doors are locked before letting you take hold of his hand again and lead him down the small hallway, into the master bedroom at the end. 
The bed is huge, white sheets resting on top, with plump pillows at the end. If it wasn’t for Joel’s hands on your hips and his lips on your neck, you’d be focused on falling into it and going straight to sleep. He’s walking you forward, trailing wet kisses down the expanse of your neck, then he turns you once your knees hit the foot of the bed. 
He brings his palms to your face, cradling it in his hands as he leans down, pressing those soft, plush lips to your own. You bring your arms to wrap around his shoulders, pressing yourself up on your tiptoes as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling your body flush to his broad frame as he opens his mouth, tongue licking into your own mouth as he deepens your kiss. It’s the first time he’s kissed you since last year, both of you having some form of silent agreement with each other that Tommy doesn’t need to see that. He see’s everything else you do when you’re together, when he’s watching his brother fill you up, this here, when Joel kisses the very breath from your lungs, this is just for the two of you. 
With his mouth still latched to yours, he uses his hands to push his flannel from your shoulders, before he reaches down and tugs your own shirt from where it was tucked into your jeans. He takes his time, unbuttoning it one notch at a time, until that too is pushed from your shoulders. You don’t even realise he’s undone the button on your jeans until he’s pushing them down your hips – too focused on the way his mouth tastes. 
“Sit down, pretty girl,” He whispers, dropping to his knees, “Been drivin’ me wild all day,” His hands trail up your legs, parting them in front of his face when you perch on the edge of the bed, “Thinkin’ about you all wet down here, after you sucked my cock.” 
He runs his thumb over the front of your panties, tracing the seam of your pussy, which has indeed been completely soaked for him since you sucked him off. He presses his mouth, wet and hot, against the delicate skin of your thigh as you let your head drop back and a sigh to escape your mouth. His mouth comes to rest between the crook of your thigh, where the seam of your underwear is, and you think he might just pull them to the side and give you what you want, but instead, he starts a trail of kisses from the opposite knee, moving slowly up your other thigh until you’re squirming for him. 
“Don’t tease me,” You beg, running a hand through the curls on his head, “Make me feel good, Joel.” 
“This what you want, pretty girl?” He asks, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, dragging them off you when you lift yourself off the bed a little, “Want my mouth here?” 
His thumb runs up the seam of your pussy, the friction without the barrier of your panties delicious now. You spread your legs for him, heels resting on the bottom of the bed, baring your spread, aching cunt for him. His palms are resting on the inner part of your thighs now as he leans in, lips pressing a single chaste kiss to your clit. 
“Fuck,” You breathe out, chasing the feel of his lips as he pulls away, you almost whine until you feel him push one of his delightfully thick fingers straight into your weeping pussy, “Fuck Joel, holy shit.” 
He’s grinning up at you like the devil when you look down, pulling his finger out all the way before slipping it into his mouth to clean it off, “You been this wet all day?” He asks, thumb moving to gather the slick at your entrance to drag to your clit, moving in featherlight movements. 
“Y-yes,” You manage to choke out, “This is what you do to me.” 
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he puts his face right back where you want it, tongue licking a firm, wide strip from your weeping hole and up to your clit, using the tip of his tongue to place precise flicks on your swollen bundle of nerves. He’s so fucking good with his mouth it actually hurts. He’s managed to learn exactly how you like it, what combination of moves with his mouth and the addition of his fingers bring you over the edge the fastest and that’s exactly what he’s doing right now. He slips two of his fingers back inside you, curling them straight up into that spot within you that makes you cry, lips sucking your clit into his mouth whilst his tongue still moves perfectly across you. 
“God fucking damn it, Joel,” You cry, fingers tugging at his hair as you push your pussy closer to his face, “Gonna make me come.” 
He doesn’t bother to pull his mouth away from you to tell you it’s okay like he usually does, just continues the movements just as they are until your crying his name out, the rope that was pulled taught inside you snapping as your pussy clenches around Joel’s fingers and you come so hard your vision blacks out for a moment.
You collapse down onto the bed, arms no longer able to hold you up as Joel takes his mouth from your clit, gently pulling his fingers from you. Without needing to be asked, you scoot up the bed, letting air fill your lungs. Your eyes are trained on Joel as he starts to undress in front of you, smirking at you when he drags his shirt over his head. 
“You should charge people for this,” You mumble, “Sure a lot of ladies would pay good money to watch you strip.” 
“Like this?” He chuckles, slowly undoing the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down painfully slow as you start humming, encouraging him to really put on a show, “Zip it.” He laughs, pushing his jeans down his legs, his cock hard and pressing against the thin material of his boxers. 
He shucks them off his body as well and you watch, captivated as he fists his cock, he is, next to his brother, one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Joel Miller,” You breathe out as he clambers onto the bed, pulling you up slightly so he can take your bra off, “Do you know that?” 
His mouth is pressing kisses between your breasts, letting his teeth nibble small marks across your chest before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. You can feel his cock pressing between your folds, running up and down your pussy as he settles properly between your thighs. You run your hand through his hair as he trails his lips up to your face, peppering your jaw with kisses. 
“Can’t say I’ve been told much,” He whispers into your ear, “But I’ll take it.” 
You can feel him reach between you, base of his cock in his hand as he brings the tip to your slick cunt. He thrusts forward just a touch, giving you the tip, lips settling onto your own so he can swallow the small moans you let out as he inches deeper and deeper into you until he bottoms out. You shift your hips underneath him, legs hitching around his waist. 
“Baby please,” He pleads, “You gotta give me a second,” His head dropping to the crook of your neck, “Fuck, how does it always feel like I’m fucking you for the first time?” 
You want to give him all the time in the world but you’re just as bad as he is. He needs to move, and he needs to move now otherwise you think you might actually die. 
“Please Joel,” You moan, rolling your hips up into his, hand still firmly tangled in the curls at the back of his neck, “You need to move.” 
“I ain’t gonna last, babygirl.” He groans as he pulls himself out and slams back into you. 
“Don’t care,” You moan as his lips attach themselves to your throat, “Just need to feel you.” 
He moves, placing his hands on either side of your head, pushing himself up, as he drags his cock from your tight heat and starts thrusting properly. You’ve had this man more times than you can count, two or three times a month for the past six months whilst you try for your second baby, but the way he feels inside of you never fails to set your body on fire. 
He’s always so big, and you feel so fucking full of him. You close your eyes and tilt your head back further into the mattress as he drives himself deeper into you, head of his cock brushing against your cervix. It’s pain and pleasure, it’s too much and not enough all at the same time. He makes you stupid when he fucks you like this. Focused on one thing, and one thing only. 
One of his hands clutches your chin, his voice hoarse with pleasure, “Look at me,” He demands, “Give me those beautiful eyes when I fuck you.” 
You do as you’re told, eyes opening and staring into his own chocolate orbs that are dark with lust. God, you love him. You know you shouldn’t love him this much, it’s dangerous, but he’s so fucking good to you, you can’t help yourself. 
“Good girl,” He praises, making your pussy clench around him, “Doin’ what you’re told, you’re so good for me, aren’t you?” 
“So good Joel,” You moan, fingers gripping the meat of his biceps as you hold onto him, hips rolling up to meet his with every thrust, “Want you to come for me.” 
“Yeah, want me to fill you up, pretty girl?” 
“Yes Joel!” You cry, “Fill me up baby, please.” 
His hips start to falter from their precise thrusts of before, he’s so fucking close, you can see it on his face, hear it in his growls. He dips his head back to the crook of your neck, teeth nipping along your collarbones as he pounds into you. He lets out one long moan of your name as he stills inside you, and you can feel the familiar warmth of his cum filling you up. He brings one of his hands down to cup your ass, lifting you up a little, as if he thinks the angle of your pelvis makes much of a difference when it comes to getting you pregnant. 
He groans into your neck as he slips out of you, letting your hips finally drop to the bed as he rolls off you, collapsing in a heap beside you as he catches his breath. You lean over, kiss pressed to his cheek with a mumble that you’ll be back in a minute once you’ve cleaned up, the pain of last month’s UTI still fresh in your mind after you fell asleep without going to the bathroom. 
When you return, two glasses of water in hand, he’s already pulled back the sheets and has settled himself back against the pillows. You hand him his glass, setting yours on the nightstand as you climb into bed, settling your aching bones against your own pillow when you realise this is uncharted territory with you and Joel. When you spend your one night with him, neither of you sleep – you spend as much time as you can connected, making each other feel good, and when he’s with you outside of that, with Tommy watching, or joining in, whichever he feels like doing that night, he’s always gone in a flash. You’ve never settled down to sleep next to him, you don’t know if he snores, you don’t know if he wants you to cuddle into his side and drift off to sleep together. 
“Stop thinkin’,” He sighs, “And c’mere.” 
You smile, crawling over the space between you as he moves his body down to lie flat on his back. You drape one of your arms over his tummy as his wraps around your shoulder, the other resting on your arm wrapped around him. You bring your leg up to wrap between his and let out a sigh. 
“You have no idea how much I’ve always wanted this,” He whispers quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Somethin’ so simple as fallin’ asleep with you.” 
You hum against his warm skin, letting the thumb that’s resting on his tummy start rubbing small circles on his skin, “It’s nice,” You speak, punctuating it with a yawn, “Hope you don’t snore though.” 
His chest rising with a chuckle as he pulls you tighter to his body, “Go to sleep, babygirl,” He speaks quietly, “I’m gonna wear you out tomorrow.” 
You don’t know whether he’s referring to the hike he wanted to take you on through the mountains, or the fact that you both know what you’re really here for. Is he going to keep you right here on this mattress all day, filling you up until you can’t take it anymore? Either way, being here with Joel has already been the ointment you needed for your stress. Your shoulders are more relaxed, and you don’t have the headache you usually do at the end of the day from gritting your teeth. Whatever he’s got planned, you’re going to take it, and for now, you’re going to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach that this time, though longer than you ever get, is still fleeting. You can worry about that another day. 
Taglist: @morning-star-joy @sinsofsummers @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @kaitangatatacos @paleidiot
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angelltheninth · 1 year
Text
Neteyam and Lo'ak when You Call Them Cute
Pairing: Neteyam, Lo'ak x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, teasing, flirting, cuddles, purring, biting, tail shenanigans, kissing
A/N: Need something to make me feel better, took my husky to get fixed today and she's been real grumpy so I've just been comforting her.
NETEYAM
You got his face looking confused for a second, thinking you might be talking about someone else
He calls you cute all the time but you throwing it back at him was unexpected
No one really called him cute before
He's always been the big brother, the reliable one, the wannabe soldier boy, but never cute
Good thing you waited till after patrol to tell him, otherwise he wouldn't be able to focus, and he'd have a big dumb grin on his face the whole time
He won't deny that the way his tail swishes and sways is from happiness but he also asks you not to tease him about it too much, which you really can't promise
Since you calling him cute is clearly something that gets to him he also likes to flirt back with you, even subtly
Keeping long eye contact, brushing his tail over your back, purring praise into your ear and seeing how your skin prickles from it, all his weapons of choice
Will look at you with narrow eyes if you call him cute in front of his family
He can't exactly be mad but he also can't do anything about the way his ears press close to his head or the way his tail starts lightly thumping on the floor at the end
LO'AK
If you wanna fluster him calling him cute does the trick every time
The first time you did it you were behind him, riding through the skies of Pandora and almost made him fall of his ikran
Good thing that he's got pretty good reflexes
Still it was embarrassing to say the least, such a little compliment making him lose control like that
Since then it has become your favorite thing to call him
Every time you call him cute he reacts just a bit more
Arms holding you tighter around your shoulders, to his chest rumbling as he purrs, to his face buried where your neck meets your shoulder, to him having to grab his tail to get it to hold still
He's discovered however, through many trials and errors, that the best way to get you to stop saying the word was to kiss it right off your lips
Or giving you an occasional nibble on your neck, making you the one gasping and squirming
That's right, he knows your weak spots well, keep calling him cute and he'll show you just how many he's managed to discover
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dmercer91 · 9 months
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Can you do nsfw and sfw head canons for Ethan Edward and mark estapa? ( btw love you account I’ve been stalking it for the last hour😂💕)
misc. headcanons, ee73
i used this one for eddy! another is coming for mark asap <3 (and thank you!)
meeting at the coffee shop you work at and he was originally planning on getting his regular but when he saw you he buffered
“what’s your go to? i was thinking of trying something new,”
you ask wether he likes cold or hot drinks, sweet or bitter, if there’s anything he definitely would not drink and he thinks your little lineup of questions is so sweet
you’re clearly a little nervous that he won’t like it once you ring it up and you pick at your nails when he first tries it
“you’ve got good taste… y/n,” he nods to your name tag
maybe the person taking you off comes up and tells you you’re good to go home and ethan takes the risk and orders another drink
“come sit with me?”
you talk for so long and when you laugh he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven
you exchange numbers and over the course of the semester, the relationship grows and you guys start dating
he’s so sweet
he buys you flowers and little trinkets he sees that he thinks you’ll like
he wants you at every possible home game, tucked in the corner by the glass where he can see you for good luck
you guys have after school naps at soph house - mark is sick of you guys being all cute and lovey
he lays on his back and you’re always tucked into his side with his arm around you
playing with his hair is your favourite thing
there’ll be times where that’s all you do for hours, just lay in his arms and twist his hair around your fingers while you talk about nothing important
he loves !! sweet nothings
his love language is probably quality time or touch but words of affirmation is definitely up there
“so pretty. my girl,” “you’re perfect, angel,”
sometimes after work you just need to sit in his arms and let him trace shapes on your shoulders and back in silence
customer service is draining and he does well with understanding that
if you’re overstimulated or tired he’s so good with boundaries and not making you more irritable
sexually, he can be a lot of different things depending on what you’re in the mood for
he loves it when you ride him but he’s perfectly happy putting in the work
he’s an ass/thigh man and i will be taking no criticism on that
kissing your thighs? heaven
leaving love bites on your thighs? he might as well have passed away from bliss
being between your thighs? having them squeeze his head? he thinks there’s no better place to be at any point in time
you riding his thigh, and he gets to sit back and tense his leg to tease you? he’d take that over actual american dollars
he is in college, and he’s used to hookups and therefore inexperienced with his mouth
however, after some trial and error, and him learning how to read your reactions to things, he’s so good
in the first bit of your relationship all he wants to do is practice
“i wanna be able to make you feel good,” while he’s literally got his nose buried into your clit for the third consecutive day
when he finally gets the reaction he’s been working towards - unbridled moans and mumbled of his name while you squirm and squeeze his head with your thighs
he lets up for one whole day before he’s kissing down your body again cause ‘he misses how pretty you taste’
he wants to try new things and get good at them all the time which is truly a blessing cause you won’t spare his feeling and say you came and he will get you there
sometimes on rougher nights he just moves you around at his will
for a college guy he’s well built and it’s both nice to look at and convenient
he likes it when you scratch at him
if he’s not getting absolutely flamed in the dressing room for being full of nail marks then he’s doing something wrong
you always feel bad when you see them and he’s like are you kidding?? i made you feel that good. this is my medal
he likes to guide your head when you’re going down on him
he’ll bury his hand in your hair or wrap it around his fist and slowly move you up and down on him
he’s not vocal in the beginning of your relationship, until you ask if it doesn’t feel good and he realizes you like him vocal
now he’s so used to letting it all out that being quiet is his least favourite thing on the entire planet
aftercare consists of a shower or bath with tons and tons of cuddling, forehead kisses and sweet praises
in conclusion; eddy 🤭
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wistfulcynic · 5 months
Text
the inn is a metaphor
They are terrible at running an inn. 
In the beginning. 
They don’t know the first goddamn thing about the hospitality industry. Or carpentry, plumbing, invoicing, logistics. Anything, really. They know nothing. 
They learn. 
There’s a lot of trial, even more error. But by the first time the Revenge returns for a visit they have something. A roof that doesn’t leak. Un-rotted floorboards. Nooks and crannies free from feral beasts of any kind. Zero spiders. Twin armchairs in front of the fire and a bed just big enough for the two of them. It’s a start. 
The Revenge comes bearing gifts. Wee John has knitted them some afghans and Frenchie sewed an enormous quilt, which takes pride of place on the bed. They’ve towed in another ship as well, a wreck whose timber they all pitch in to rebuild into an extension and some outbuildings. Roach helps them plant a kitchen garden and a medicinal one. 
Jackie gives them business advice and contacts for her old suppliers. Lucius has a guestbook for them, with marginalia he drew himself. Some of it at least is appropriate for guests to see. The rest…
“Are you planning to have guests who’ll faint at the sight of a cock?” Lucius inquires innocently. “Because I’ll be honest with you, that seems unlikely.” 
The idea of guests of any kind is still a long way off, but they’re getting there. They can envision it now, and not just as a wild fantasy they spin each other at night as they lie entwined with sweat cooling on their skin. They have actual plans, concrete ones, and a decent understanding of how to realise them. 
They get to work. 
Jackie’s contacts prove invaluable. Soon they have a liquor supplier, deals with local butchers, bakers, candlestick-makers, and even a reliable fisherman to give them first dibs on his haul. 
(It’s not Pop-Pop.) 
A few survivors of Zheng’s old crew hire on as housekeeping and kitchen staff. The soup is phenomenal. Ed learns how to make it and how to cook a fish without burning it. They have fresh-smelling towels, expertly folded. They have guest rooms, and soon they have guests. 
It’s an adjustment, having new people in their space. Some of the guests are gawkers, eager for a piece of Blackbeard and the Gentleman Pirate. They reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, namely those particular assholes. But other guests are much more pleasant. Locals looking for a bit of a mini-break, people from nearby islands wanting a getaway, even the occasional European who doesn’t know who they are. 
The guests are mostly happy with their stay. There’s excellent soup and decent fish, fresh linens and great views. The walls could be a bit thicker, perhaps, for everyone’s comfort, but the hosts are always most apologetic in the morning and offer copious marmalade in exchange for good reviews. 
The Revenge returns frequently, each time with some new trinkets and finery for their former co-captains. In exchange, they host bonfires on the beach with music and dancing and wine, until they all fall asleep together in a pile, so like the old days on the ship that Stede watches them in the soft light of the embers with tears in his eyes. 
“All right, love?” Ed asks him. He slips an arm around Stede’s waist. Stede tugs him in until Ed’s head is nestled against his shoulder. He strokes Ed’s hair. Ed sighs and snuggles closer. 
“I’m all right,” Stede says. “A bit nostalgic is all.” 
“You miss it.” 
“I miss the crew. I wish they could visit more often. I suppose I miss the sea, though of course it’s right there in front of us. But I’m happy, Ed. I have no regrets.” 
“Really?” The whisper of doubt in Ed’s voice has Stede pulling back to look down at his dear face. 
“Yes really! Do you doubt it?” 
“Kind of.” Ed shrugs. “It’s easier for me, I think. I was ready to be done with it, Stede. Desperate to do anything else but be Blackbeard. But you—you had just got started. You could be out there now with the crew, pirating away. You could be famous. You could—” 
“Ed Teach, you listen to me.” Stede’s got his Captain Voice on now and the sound of it has Ed’s stomach turning cartwheels, his dick leaping to attention. “I don’t care about any of that. I only wanted to be a pirate for the freedom. To escape my old life. But I have a life now that I would never want to escape. Do you know why?” 
Ed shakes his head. 
“Because I chose it. I chose you. I love you and I would be happy anywhere you were.” He cups Ed’s cheek in his palm and kisses his forehead, his nose, his lips. Ed moans and presses closer but Stede pulls back, just far enough to whisper, “You make Stede happy.” 
They spend that night alone in the inn, no guests, far enough from the beach that when they serve breakfast to the crew the next morning not a single smirk or smart remark is sent their way. 
They wave goodbye to their friends that evening and stand together on their porch to watch the ship sail off into the sunset. Stede turns to Ed with a smile. “New guests checking in tomorrow,” he says. “We should probably fix the creak in the door hinge of Room 1.” 
“I’ll do it,” says Ed, “if you polish the candlesticks. Fuckin’ polish makes my nose itch.” 
“Deal,” says Stede. He turns to head inside. “What’ll we have for dinner?” 
“Got a nice turbot we could roast.” 
“Ooh, fab.” 
The inn’s front door closes behind them. 
It’s still a bit rickety, their inn. It’s old, it creaks, it springs leaks from time to time. It’s hard work, keeping it going. But they are devoted to the task. Whatever it takes, they will see their inn thrive. 
It’s what makes them happy. 
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