#wiri wiri peppers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tightjeansjavi · 7 months

Text

as natural as another leg around you in the bed frame

A/N: well..this was supposed to just be a fluffy little piece with a dabble of smut but uhh we took the angsty route! Don’t act so surprised ;)

~word count: 2.0k~

Summary: Joel returns home to you after patrol injured, and hiding it from you.

Pairing | post! outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, minor injuries, mentions of a knife wound, stitches, blood, brief lying, stubborn Joel, soft! Joel, protective! Joel, he turns into a whimpering mess! Joel, comfort, care, unconditional love, tending to Joel’s wounds, intimacy, handjob in the tub, praise, talking him through it, ends with a well deserved nap, reader has no physical descriptions, no age gap, +18 minors dni!

main masterlist masterlist

If there’s one thing that Joel Miller loves most in this cruel, unforsaken carnage of what is left of the world that he knows, it’s the privilege of getting to come home to you. He has someone to protect outside of Ellie, who is well off in her own life with Dina by her side. Joel would still put his life out on the line for her without a second thought. He’d do the same for you because well, you’re his; and he is yours.

He comes home to you, to your arms, to your warmth everyday. He thrives in it the second his arms loop around your waist and he hugs you so tight to his chest you can hardly take in a lungful of air. You let him hug you just like so every time. You love him, and that’s all there is to know.

Your Joel sometimes returns home to you with speckled blood spattered on his cheeks, dusting his eyebrows and salt and pepper hair. Sometimes his flannel is caked in dirt and congealed blood, but it’s never his own. He always reassures you that it’s not his. He kisses the frown that appears between your brows when you’re feeling unconvinced. Maybe it’s due to the way his hands tremble at the slightest, or his breath hitches in his throat, a wheeze slides past his lips as he tries to mask it with a quick clearing of his throat.

You see right through it, and he knows you do.

“Joel,” You softly whisper through the calming domestic air. “Are you hurt?”

He tightly shakes his head, back going rigid and stiff like a plank of wood. He avoids making direct eye contact with you to try and mask the fact that he is lying.

“M’not hurt, sweet girl.” He murmurs as he slowly slides his rifle strap from his shoulder. He winces slightly from the jagged gash on his right bicep as he hangs the strap of the rifle along the rusted hook on the wall.

“Please don’t lie to me. You’re hurt. I can see it written all over your face, Joel.” You pleaded with him as your hand traveled up the expanse of his chest and finally rested along his jaw. You could feel the patches of his wiry beard lightly scratch across the soft underside of your palm.

“S’just a scratch. Ain’t deep or nothin.’ I’m alright. You don’t gotta worry ‘bout me, sweetheart.” His words rumbled like thunder from an oncoming storm. He wasn’t exactly an expert liar.

“Let me see it.” You demanded in an urgent tone, thumb gently brushing across his chapped lips.

His head dips down in defeat as he leans into your soft caress, “Honey,” He starts, almost vying to plead with you, but you don’t let him finish.

“Joel, please. Please just let me take care of you. You’re hurt, and I need to make sure it’s not infected.”

He begrudgingly agrees because he knows this is a battle he cannot win. His hand slowly reaches up towards his face as his fingers find yours and thread them together before dropping them to his side. He lets you lead him up the staircase and to your shared bathroom. He doesn't speak, only grunts as you sit him down on the edge of the closed toilet seat.

You can feel his eyes drifting across your back as you grab the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet.

You’re too good to him, he silently thinks to himself as he begins to undo the buttons of his flannel. His shoulders ache as he peels the fabric from his skin and discards it onto the faded tile floor. He’s got a makeshift bandage wrapped around the wound as you use the empty trash cash as a makeshift stool. “Just a scratch?” you question as he unties the fabric. The gash is at least an inch or so deep. Just enough that he’ll need stitches.

“S’nothin.’ Stopped bleedin’ hours ago.” He mumbled under his breath.

“Why did you want to hide this from me, Joel?” The firstaid kit is resting along your lap when he finally makes eye contact with you.

“Cus’ I don’t like seein’ you upset when I get hurt. S’my fault. M’gettin’ slower out there. Can’t keep up like I used to.” He sounded defeated as his shoulders slumped forward.

“Joel, I'm not upset, okay? I just don’t like it when you hide these things for me. I’m sure the guy that knifed you is in far worse condition than you are.” You responded softly as you pulled out what probably was 20+ year old disinfectant, but it still did the trick.

“Let’s jus’ say he’s gonna have a real long sleep. Bugs n’the critters will make good use outta his body.” Joel was never shy when it came to his duty on patrol, and what it sometimes turned out to be. He knew you were not frightened by this knowledge, and he knew you held no moral judgment over his head for it.

“This is going to sting a little.” You briefly warned him as you held the spray bottle a few inches above his wound before administering a few spritzes.

“M’favorite part.” He teased with barely a wince given.

When his wound was clean, and the needle was sterilized, Joel pressed a tender kiss to your temple in reassurance. “G’nna patch me up nice n’good now, baby?”

“Mhm.” You murmured softly.

“‘Atta girl.” He relaxed his posture, and his arm so you would have an easier time stitching his skin back together. He knew this part always made you a little apprehensive, but humming soothingly under his breath did the trick.

Once you had successfully sutured his wound, you wrapped it firmly in a bit of gauze before tilting your head in the direction of the tub. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

He didn’t argue this time, but before you could stand up, he was reaching for your face with both hands as he pressed his lips to yours in a gentle embrace. It was tender, sweet, ignited by his devotion for you. The kiss lasted all of a few seconds before he was reluctantly pulling away. You heard the familiar crack of his knees as he slowly stood up.

You silently started the water for the tub. Checking the temperature every few seconds to make sure it was adequately warm enough for the two of you.

You listened to the faint clink of his belt, followed by the denim of his jeans sliding down his strong thighs. You watched from your peripheral as his broad form slowly sunk down into the soothing water. He made sure to keep his bandaged arm resting along the rim of the tub so that it wouldn’t accidentally get wet.

“S’nice.” He softly grunted as he stretched his legs out. “Y’gnna join me?” He tilted his chin to the side, watching you with a soft expression etched across his weathered face.

“Of course I am, baby.” You saw a hint of a smirk tug on his lips. He couldn’t help but indulge himself in watching you undress. You were beautiful, and he was a man after all.

Much to his surprise, you didn’t make yourself comfortable between the expanse of his thighs. Instead, you sank down behind him, with your arms wrapping around his middle, breasts pressed firmly to his back as you hugged him tightly.

“What’re y’doin’ back there, honey?” He asked, words vibrating through your body as he craned his head over his shoulder to try and look at you.

“Just want to hold you.” Was your response as you began to press soft kisses between his shoulder blades.

“You’re a sweetheart, y’know that? M’so lucky to have ya.” He nearly whispered as he settled further back into the warm water, and your gentle grasp around him.

Your hands traveled upwards from the soft swell of his tummy, and up to his shoulders where you gently began to knead the sore muscle tissue with your fingers. You worked your way through a stubborn knot just below his right shoulder blade. He melted into your touch like warm butter on a pan. He didn’t realize just how tense he was until you started working your way through his sore spots.

“Y’don’t gotta be doin’ all of this f’me, sweet girl.” His eyes fluttered shut as he let a breathy sigh escape past his lips.

“I want to, Joel. I want to take care of you. You’re always taking care of me..you deserve the same kind of treatment. You do so much to keep me, Ellie, and the rest of the town safe from harm. Most importantly, I love you. You’re my partner, and you deserve all the care and attention from me right now.”

Fuck.

“I love you too, sweet girl. Love you s’fuckin’ much. You’re always s’good t’me. Luckiest man in town, gettin’ to be loved by you.” He hummed appreciatively.

He could feel you smiling against his damp skin as your hands slowly drifted back down to rest along his tummy as a comfortable silence washed over the two of you. The water had begun to turn a slightly diluted pink color from the dried blood naturally being washed away on his skin. The tub faucet dripped a few droplets that landed on the tub's surface leaving delicate ripples in their wake.

He could stay like this forever; here with you.

When your fingers lightly brushed across the expanse of coarse, dark hair along his pelvic area, words were already tumbling from his lips before you could even ask him.

“Please.” He murmured as he desperately tried to grasp at his rational straws. So many times he had denied himself of his own pleasure, simply because he’d much rather take care of you.

His hand that wasn’t resting along the edge of the tub slipped under the water and guided your hand to where his softened cock laid between his thighs.

“Please,” He asked again, voice nearly cracking from the desperation to feel your touch.

“I’ll take care of you.” You whispered as your fingers slowly wrapped around the base of his shaft, thumb reaching up to paint across his weeping tip.

His head fell back to rest upon your shoulder as he gripped the side of the tub with knuckles turning stark white. A whimper escaped past his lips as you slowly began to twist and pump your wrist. You worked him in expert, slow strokes as he praised you shamelessly.

“S’good.” He uttered with a soft grunt. “S’good to me. Please don’t stop. Don’t stop, sweet girl.” He’d beg you if necessary, but based off the way you were softly shushing him with delicate kisses laid upon his cheekbones, he knew you had all the intentions of taking care of him.

His thighs began to quiver underwater, toes curling, hips bucking upwards against your hand as profanity mixed with praise tumbled from his parted lips like an avalanche along a steep mountain pass. He turned into a whimpering mess just from your hand alone.

“Shh. I got you, Joel. I got you. You’re safe..let go baby, it’s okay.” You whispered against the shell of his ear as he cried out your name. His hips stilled in the now cloudy water from his post release. He felt spent, placid, calm in your grasp as his cock went soft in your palm.

You washed away the remnants of blood that stuck to his hair and face, before you departed from the lukewarm embrace.

He was the one to wrap a fluffy towel around the both of you as he left soft kisses anywhere his lips could reach. You declined his generous offer to go down on you simply for the fact that you could sense his exhaustion from the day. You softly offered him a nap instead. His one request was to feel your skin against his, while he paid no mind to the sheets getting damp from not properly drying off. His legs tangled protectively around yours as you lazily pulled the duvet over your bare skin. His nose nuzzles the spot between your neck and collarbone as his arms wrap around your middle. One hand splays out across the soft swell of your tummy, while the other rests across your hip. You sleep for hours in this domestic intimacy that you have forged tirelessly together.

You’re his; and he is yours, and that’s all there is to know.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤎

Follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications!

1K notes · View notes

frannyzooey · 1 year

Text

Middle of the Night

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: He comes to you for comfort.

A/N: Thank you to my loves @mourningbirds1 @the-ginger-hedge-witch and @krissology looking this over for me ❤️

—

Tucked onto his side with his broad back facing you, you crawl into bed and press your nose into the curls that cover the nape of his neck, breathing him in. Your hand maps his firm shoulder, running a well worn path over the curve of his side and his calloused hand grasps yours, pulling it close.

You sleep, because you’re exhausted, and so does he.

It’s the middle of the night when he finds you.

When his guard is down – not all the way, it’s never down all the way – but when the fog of sleep dulls his brain and his heart and he’s reduced to nothing but a man seeking out your warmth in the dusky black of the room, that’s when he finds you. His hands pulling you close, his mouth seeking yours.

Those hands that deliver brutality when needed, that curl into fists or mold around his rifle - a semblance of their old tenderness comes out in his touch when he guides your sleep limp limbs around him; the wet heat of his mouth felt against your skin when he tucks his face into the crook of your neck and inhales.

His strong arm winds around your side, holding you tight and he pulls you from sleep when you feel the drag of his lips as they pepper light kisses along the curve of your jaw. You shift your face down to his and he looks up, his mouth meeting yours.

It’s a languid kiss, a sleepy one laced with a low simmering need. His tongue dips into your mouth, opening you up for him and your fingers brush against the wiry hair of his gray streaked beard, pulling him closer. You shift to face him fully, fitting your body along his and he reaches down, impatiently tugging away the blanket you’ve wrapped yourself in. He needs that barrier to you gone and when it is, his thigh finds the space between your own and he rolls you onto your back, deepening the kiss with a low sound at the back of his throat.

If you had met before all this happened, there might have been a time where you did this sort of thing with affectionate smiles on your faces, kissing each other breathless through teasing words. There might have been open delight in the act as you had fun with it, laughing quietly into the dark room as you peeled off each other’s clothes in a playful, clumsy fumble.

But you met now, and so you still peel the clothes off, but there is no laughing. No silly words, no teasing. There is only raw hunger for each other as you find every inch of his firm, bare skin as it’s revealed and he does the same for you.

“Joel,” you breathe into his kiss when you’re naked and pressed against each other tight, his cock a stiff heft against the curve of your ass as you wind your legs around his waist. He’s a heavy weight on top of you, forcing you into the mattress and you relish the security in his warm drape; tuck it away for later, when you’ll need to recall it. His beard scrapes the palms of your hands, your hold shifting up to thread into his hair.

Pulling back just enough, he brings his fingers up to his mouth with a suck, wetting them. Your eyes watch the lewd gesture before he reaches down between your bodies and finding the pearl of your clit, he rubs it with a firm, practiced, slick glide, pressing his mouth back against yours.

Arching into his touch, you keen underneath him and your thighs open wider, your hips rolling lightly against his hand.

“Fuck,” you exhale, a blooming heat building. “Keep touching it like that. Keep –”

“I know what you need, pretty girl. I know.” The lilt of his accent slips deeper, pairing with the husk of his low voice.

He does know. Keeps doing it until you start to force your hips against the swift circle of his touch, keeps doing it until you tell him that you need him and that’s when he slips himself inside: when your achingly empty cunt flutters around the snug fit before pulling him deep. His hand, still damp with your slick, finds your own and with a strength you’ve seen him display in so many situations, he circles your wrist, forcing it into the bed above your head. You wiggle it free, lacing your fingers with his.

He fucks rough. Bruising strokes, harsh snaps of his hips, ones that betray his need for you. You take everything he gives, his hand tightening its hold on yours while the other one cups your cheek, making sure your mouth stays on his.

You squeeze his bicep, moaning into his hungry kiss and lift your hips so he can slide in deeper.

“Goddamn you feel so good,” he groans, breaking the kiss to rest the bridge of his nose against your cheek. He grunts with every deep push forward, the puff of hot air trapped against your skin. “I don’t ever wanna stop.”

“Don’t,” you encourage him, tipping your head back into the pillow and he takes the opportunity to lave his tongue along the hollow of your throat, just before biting down on the juncture of your shoulder. When you hiss, he smiles against your skin.

“The only good part of my day is this. You, and this pussy right here,” the last words punctuated with a harsh fit of his hips into your own.

Slipping your hand from his hold, you reach down and follow the dip of his spine to dig your fingers into the meat of his ass, forcing him deeper. His mouth follows the swell of your breasts, his tongue curling over a hardened peak before drawing it into his mouth with a suck. His hand cups the bottom of it, greedily pushing the plump of it up and he opens his mouth wider. His teeth catch, before his tongue soothes.

“Did you think about this today?” he asks, his hand skating down to curl around the bend of your knee, tugging it higher. “Did you want it?”

“Yes,” you admit, moaning the word. “I always do.”

When he’s away - either physically, or when he withdraws into the depth of pain that haunts his memories - you do miss it. Miss this version of him that allows himself to seek comfort in someone else. To love with his body, even if he’ll never say the words.

“I wanna be sore tomorrow. I wanna remember. I wanna think about how deep you got, how good you fucked me, Joel. Make me sore, okay?”

A depraved part of his soul, the one that’s grown to cover up the lighter version of him that used to exist, responds instantly to the words and he growls, fucking into you harder.

“Like this?” he asks, breathless and forceful. His hips snap forward, again, again. “Like this?”

Yes, you cry out for him. Please.

The old mattress you sleep on rhythmically thudding against the wall, black creeps around the edges of his vision. His gaze fixes on your open mouth, your plush lips, your clenched shut eyes and he fists the worn sheet, using it for leverage. He fucks you like he wants to bury himself inside you and sensing what he needs, you curl your arms around his shoulders, tugging him close.

I’m right here, I’m right here, you chant in a whisper, right into the shell of his ear.

“Goddamnit,” he groans loudly, and then again, much lower, almost to himself, like he can’t believe how good you feel. “Goddamn.”

When you come, he groans low when he feels it like a tight fist around him, all the way down to the base of his cock. You’re so wet there’s an audible sound between you as he fucks you through it and he closes his eyes with a frown, trying to last as long as he can. Sweat gathered where your limbs are pressed together, he never wants to leave the flushed heat of your body and waiting until the very last second, he pulls out and spills hot along the inside of your thigh, streaking it with pools of white.

Then, it’s quiet again.

His body relaxes on top of yours, letting you soothe it. Your nails drag over his back, your fingers kneading into the base of his spine and he melts with a low, content groan.

This man. The man everyone is afraid of. The one who delivers blunt, efficient violence when it’s needed. The one who is ruthless and hardened, who will stop at nothing to survive and protects what is his: he’s none of those things right now; his arms pushing beneath your body to hold you close. His cheek rests against your thrumming heart and his breathing evens out, slowing into a steady, deep pattern.

Then, he’s asleep.

Looking at him in the dark, you wonder how he used to be. Was he funny? Did he joke? Did he have someone to love? Did he have a wife? A family? Did he like movies, or sports, or books, or whatever people did back when they had time for anything else but just surviving? The anger that he bundles up inside of him, the one that pours out in his narrowed gaze and tight jaw and bursts out of his fists - did it always live there? Or did the infection infect him too, only in a different way?

These are questions you’ll never know the answer to. You won’t ask, and you know he wouldn’t tell. It’s a mutual understanding between the two of you: what’s the sense in talking about the past, when it only brings more pain into a world where that’s all there is?

Better to not think of it. Better to savor the small moments when you get them, like the one you’re having right now.

He hasn’t moved, his face relaxed in slumber, but his arms are still tight around you as if he’s afraid you might leave him in the night. His unconscious body betrays him — just like his actions, instead of his words.

The edge of your mouth curls up, your hand brushing back a lock of hair from his forehead and you admire the scarce seen softness in him for a moment, eventually closing your eyes.

#joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou joel #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal

2K notes · View notes

esotheria-sims · 8 days

Text

Happy Easter to all Orthodox Christians out there! 🐣 I bring you a small cc offering in celebration.

A while ago, two anons asked if I'd be willing to add Pooklet textures to this beard. And I'm glad they did, because it's such a cool, fluffy number! This would be @applewatersugar's 3t2 conversion of Vensuprincess-ts3's Zoltan beard, which was engineered to be slider and anim-friendly - how cool is that?? I used a nice, wiry texture base by Digitalangels for the beard, because beards irl aren't perfectly smooth-textured either. I hope the pooklet colors still come through, tho!

INFO: YA-EM, 3,832 polys. The files are properly named, tooltipped, compressorized, but NOT binned, to allow for better mix-and-matching. Comes in all of Pooklet's naturals (except Flashpowder), Io's Ennead (except Isis), Timebomb, and four greys, including a Salt N' Pepper recolor (see swatch!) Mesh included with thanks, but renamed to fit my own organization scheme. Please watch for duplicates!

CREDITS: Venusprincess-ts3, Applewatersugar, Digitalangels, Pooklet, Io, Hat

Turnaround | Swatch

DOWNLOAD: Simfileshare | Mediafire | Box

Enjoy!~

#sims 2 #s2cc #ts2cc #sims 2 download #download #download makeup #download facial hair #mine

206 notes · View notes

rabbitblackx · 1 year

Note

Can i request some fluff headcanons with Slenderman, Jeff The Killer, and Eyeless Jack reacting to their blind reader who's asking them if they can touch them, but they hesitated at first because they don't know of how their reader is going to react after they touched their faces, because the reader thinks that their normal human beings like them due to their blindness. But to their surprise, their blind reader didn't freak out after touching their faces, and they were surprised after realizing that their not normal human beings like them?

(Also can you involve kisses in this headcanon? If that's okay with you?)

Creepypastas when Blind!Reader asks to feel their face

Includes: Slender Man, Eyeless Jack and Jeff The Killer

Slender Man💖

You had no idea that Slender Man was… well, Slender Man. His voice was deep and fuzzy, yes, but still seemingly human. You had felt his form before. The feel of his suit and tie, his wiry limbs…

But never his face. Especially not his face

When you asked to touch it, Slender Man hesitated. That was something he rarely ever did. It took him a few days to finally agree to your request. So when you did, you were in for quite a surprise

You never knew Slender Man’s name. So after feeling the unnatural smoothness of his complexion, it made him more than just nameless… but faceless as well

You didn’t shy away from him after this. In fact, Slender Man took you with him to his mansion not long after. He was absolutely entranced by you. Knowing you were okay with his supernatural, faceless self, made you very much the keeper

And he was to keep you forever

Nowadays, Slender Man often picked you up in his long limbs. You were well above the ground, your arms wrapped around his bony neck while giggles bubbled from your lips. You peppered his lifeless face with kisses all the time. It made Slenderman secretly wish he let you touch his face and find out what he truely was a long time ago

Eyeless Jack💖

As nervous as Jack was when you asked him one night, he still slowly took the mask from his face. Feeling your hands trace over his grey cheeks, he braced for rejection. His eyeless sockets stared into your clouded over ones, admiring their beauty as much as he possibly could, thinking it would be the last time

“Oh.” You whispered

Black, tar like sludge seeped through the cracks of your fingers. Jack tensed up before you, sitting just an inch away from you on your bed. But still, you inched closer, smearing the ooze all over his cheeks almost affectionately. He didn’t mind

“Jack…” you uttered

The eyeless man offered a deep hum in reply

“You’re not human, aren’t you?”

You could feel him look down in shame as you cradled his face. “No.” Jack whispered back sadly

A long silence dragged out between you two. After a few quiet moments, you let your hands dance up along his face again. Your fingertips traced along empty sockets of where his eyes once were

“I wish I could see you.” You smiled

Jack looked back up at you in surprise, his brows raised

“I bet you’re so beautiful. I just know it.”

You were too pure for him. It saddened him, really. The irony of it all. Why did Jack keep his vision yet not his eyes, while you were the opposite? It wasn’t fair

Jack’s dead heart fluttered, and he placed the most gentle, romantic kiss upon your parted lips

Jeff The Killer💖

Absolutely not

Jeff was rather rude about your question. He cursed and snapped at you, giving an aggressive ‘no’ before hopping out your bedroom window and into the night. You didn’t hear from him for a few days after that

Jeff didn’t necessarily feel bad about it, but he definitely wasn’t proud of himself. One night while you laid in bed asleep, he snuck back through your window and stalked through the darkness of your room. As he sat on the edge of your bed and stared down at you, he could tell you were to be mad at him. Jeff knew he deserved it too

Jeff said your name, then shook your shoulder. He said it again, “wake up.” He grumbled

You stirred and moaned, blind eyes cracking open. “Jeff?” You croaked

“Yeah, it’s me.” He deadpanned

You slowly rose up from your bed into a seated position, flattening down your tangled hair with a hand

“What are you doing here?” You sneered

“You can touch my face.” Jeff said, ignoring your question

“Maybe I don’t want to now.” You sassed

“Just touch it.”

Jeff grabbed your wrist and forced your hand up to his face. You screwed your own up and tried to yank it away. You felt stubborn and grumpy, still mad that he talked to you like that a few nights ago

“No.” You snapped tiredly like a brat

Jeff growled your name again in a warning tone. “Do it.”

You hesitated, but slowly let your fingers stroke against his jawline anyway. You were shocked to find his skin had this smooth, almost leathery feel to it. You could also feel two long cuts along either side of his mouth, much like a carved in smile

“Jeff…”

It all came to you now. Why he didn’t want you to feel his face. Why he was so mean to you. The news reports… the murders…

Before Jeff could answer you, two last words completed your hushed sentence

“The Killer…”

Jeff didn’t let you say or do anything more. Something about the way you said that made him go wild. He slammed his chapped lips onto yours, pulling you closer by your waist. Before you could protest against your murderous boyfriend, you shamelessly melted into the kiss, throwing yourself around him

#creepypasta #slenderman #slenderman x reader #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #jeff the killer #jeff the killer x reader #rab.reads #jeffery woods

2K notes · View notes

strangererotica · 2 months

Text

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Jim Hopper x reader | One morning after waking up beside Hopper, you notice his morning 🪵. You remember him mentioning something he wanted to try awhile ago, so you decide to indulge his fantasy…

It was impossible to miss; you noticed it the moment you woke up. The sheet covering Hopper’s naked body and yours was very obviously tented below his waist. You yawned softly, stretching your arms over your head. The sheet dipped and rose ever-so-subtly as Hopper’s cock bobbed under the fabric…

You wet your lips, eyes gliding up and down his sleeping form. Hopper had told you once that he’d always wanted to wake up with his dick in your mouth. But that was so long ago, the memory of Hopper mentioning it had faded from your mind. Today, however, presented you with a perfect opportunity to make his fantasy a reality.

Slipping a hand below the sheet, you gently pulled the fabric aside. Hopper’s erection pointed sturdy and thick towards the ceiling, a bead of precum dotting his tip. You felt him stir slightly, his body probably reacting to the change in temperature from having the warm sheet pulled from his waist.

You knelt your cheek against Hopper’s thigh, and pulled the sheet over your head, covering his legs again. Under the covers, you nuzzled your nose against the coarse hair on Hopper’s thigh, pressing a light kiss there. He stirred again very slightly, grunting in his sleep and murmuring something drowsy and unintelligible. You cupped a hand over your mouth and tried not to giggle at Hopper’s babbling, focusing instead on your task.

Pressing forward under the covers, your lips met Hopper’s cock in a soft kiss. He pulsed in response to the stimulation, stiffening and tapping against your lips. You smiled hungrily, and closed your mouth around his shaft. You slowly massaged Hopper’s girth from balls to tip, and back down again.

Hopper groaned, his legs twitching slightly under the covers. You slid your mouth along his shaft, tracing the veins in Hopper’s cock with your tongue. You added soft kitten licks to his tip, peppering it in kisses. Hopper throbbed against your mouth, his tip smearing precum over your lips like a gloss.

You sank your mouth over Hopper’s cock, taking the first four inches down your throat easily. His body jerked slightly, his breathing going deeper. A new tension stiffened Hopper’s thighs beneath your breasts, which were pressed soft and warm against him as your mouth serviced his cock.

Tugging him deeper with a firm, consistent suck, you were able to take a few more inches before your gag reflex activated. You let Hopper’s tip spread the muscles in your throat, smiling around his cock when you heard his familiar, drowsy voice mumble your name.

Hopper reached beneath the covers and laced his fingers through your hair. Holding your head in place, he elevated his hips to fuck up into your throat. “Good baby, y’suck it so fuckin’ good…” Hopper murmured, his voice gravelly with sleep. He guided your mouth up and down his shaft, grunting each time his thrusts tapped the back of your throat.

The pace of Hopper’s breathing had increased, his grip in your hair tightening. You could tell he was getting close, so you sucked even harder. Hopper’s knees bucked, his thighs closing around your head. His thrusts were sloppy and slow at first; but as the haze of waking began to fade, Hopper’s thrusts grew sharper, determined. He pressed your face deeper into the wiry hair at the base of his cock, your nose bumping his stomach with each punch of his hips.

“Christ-I’m gonna come-,” Hopper groaned. Every muscle in his body seemed to tense, as warm semen sprayed the back of your throat and slid down to your stomach. You licked the rest of his cum from his belly, the tension in Hopper’s body dissolving in the warm afterglow of orgasm.

He pulled the sheet aside, revealing your ruddy face and slick, satisfied smile. “Good morning, baby,” Hopper grinned down at you. “Good morning, Hop,” you replied. He slid his hands under your arms and lifted you up, making you giggle in surprise. Flipping you onto your back, Hopper adjusted himself on the bed so his face was nestled between your thighs.

“Don’t you have work today, Chief?” you teased. “They’re gonna wonder why you’re taking so long to get-ahh!” You gasped as Hopper’ tongue made a long swipe across your pussy, silencing you. He smirked arrogantly up at you from between your thighs. “What’s that, sweetheart?” he asked coyly.

“-to the station,” you replied breathlessly. “They’ll miss you at the-ungh!!”

Hopper plunged his tongue between your lips, cutting your sentence short again. “They can wait awhile longer,” he murmured, his cheek resting against your thigh. “Besides…” Hopper trailed kisses from your thigh to your belly button and below, his lips lingering above your clit. “…I haven’t had my breakfast yet...”

#stranger things #jim hopper #stranger things smut #david harbour #hopper smut #jim hopper smut #hopper x fem reader #hopper x reader #jim hopper x fem!reader #hopper x y/n #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x reader #hopper x you #jim hopper fanfic #hopper fanfic #hopper stranger things

233 notes · View notes

plotsignificanthaircut555 · 1 month

Text

Heatwave

Hiromi Higuruma x Reader SMUT, 18+ only, MDNI ao3

The power is out in your apartment, a record heatwave has been raging for three days. You're hot, you're exhausted, you're miserable. Your husband has the perfect plan to help you sleep.

This was inspired by the other night when my power went out and I was miserable sweating in bed and wasn’t the nicest to my partner, sorry baby, I love you. Thanks for understanding. <3 enjoy y’all.

It was hot. Too fucking hot. Skin meltingly hot. Brain boiling-ly hot. The heatwave had been going on for two days already, and previously it had been a nuisance that you could escape from in the chill of your air conditioned apartment. But this evening the power went out, plunging the small two bedroom into not only darkness, but slowly rising heat that was now becoming unbearable.

It was past midnight, the window in your and Hiromi’s bedroom was open, allowing some air to circulate, but did next to nothing to mitigate the heat. You couldn’t sleep if you wanted to, you had kicked off the covers, leaving your body exposed, you had forgone pajamas and desperately craved the icy blow of your bedroom fan, sitting impotently at your bedside. Your husband, Hiromi, was asleep next to you, or you assumed he was asleep. He hadn’t been moving, he was turned on his side, facing away from you. He too, had opted to sleep naked, the heat bothering him just as much. You were so envious of him right now, all you wanted to do was sleep. You had to work in a few hours, and you knew the longer you were up sweating, the more irritable you would be tomorrow. You huffed in frustration, feeling angry tears stinging your eyes. You just wanted to sleep.

“Still awake?” Hiromi’s sleep-thickened voice erased the silence of the bedroom.

“Yes.” You hissed miserably, turning your head to face him as he rolled over to lay on his other side toward you.

The covers were bunched around his legs, one of his long legs above the comforter, one tucked underneath. He was sweating too, his tan skin glistening in the faint moonbeams that streaked through the bedroom window. He looked like he was shimmering, small droplets of sweat peppering every inch of him. You looked at his sleepy eyes, focused closely on you in the dark. His heart ached seeing your brows furrowed and your frowning lips. His large, wiry hand touched your cheek lightly, his fingertips cool against your skin. For once his poor circulation was coming in handy.

“My love…” his tone was apologetic, as though he had turned off the power himself, and imposed this misery upon you.

Hiromi’s cold fingers felt so nice against your flushed cheek, a moan slipped through your lips, coaxing a smile from him. He trailed his fingertips down your cheek bone and across your lips, the feverish heat of your body soon robbing his fingers of their chill. You once again were too hot and too sweaty, altogether too uncomfortable to sleep.

You sat up frustrated, burying your head in your hands, finishing your hair wet with sweat. Hiromi sat up scooted closer to you, he wanted desperately to hold you, cuddle you back to sleep and help you rest. But he knew touching you would only make you both hotter so he opted to rest against one of his arms and watch you closely.

“Maybe I should just get in the shower, it’ll cool me off for a little while.” You mumbled into your knees, already dreading the idea of showing in the pitch dark of your bathroom.

You had no window in the bathroom so even the moonlight couldn’t penetrate that darkness. You weren’t afraid of the dark, no one liked the dark. Especially not being naked and vulnerable in the dark. This sparked an idea in Higuruma’s mind. He slipped out of bed, standing to his full height, and sliding on his discarded boxer shorts from the previous day. He crossed around the bed and kissed your forehead.

“One second.” His voice was giddy with excitement as he padded through the dark into the kitchen.

You could hear the opening and shutting of the refrigerator, some cupboards, followed by the sound of Hiromi giggling to himself. How he could manage to be so happy while you were so miserable, you had no idea, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be upset with him. He was usually so serious, so sullen and focused all the time from overwork and his own battle with depression. Whatever he was up to was clearly bringing out the smiley and excitable man you had fallen in love with.

“Close your eyes,” his voice came from the otherside of the bedroom door, you obliged.

You felt him approach you, feeling the energy of his body closing in on yours. You couldn’t fight the smile on your lips as he stopped in front of you, you wanted to reach out and hold onto his hips in anticipation. But before you could move, you felt something against your mouth, gloriously cold, so perfectly, soothingly numbing that you gasped. Your eyes snapped open to see Higuruma kneeling before you, a bowl of ice resting next to him. He was sliding one ice cube against your bottom lip, cool water dripping down your chin as it melted.

“Oh Hiro…” you mewled out, grateful tears picking at your eyes, full and wet looking at him with so much love.

“Let me help you cool down, love. Lay back,” he leaned over you, standing again, encouraging you to lie on your back.

You let your back hit the sheets, already feeling some relief from the ice cube he slid down your neck. Goosebumps appeared in their wake, he was hypnotized by watching you change. Watching the ice melt so quickly against your burning skin, watching you release the tension that had been building since the heatwave began. Once the cube in his hand had melted completely, he splayed his icy, wet fingers on your stomach, opting to get the next cube with his mouth, using you for support to lean down. Grabbing the ice between his teeth he started lower this time, dragging it up your shin, water dripping down your calf muscle as he did. Contented moans slipped from your lips as you watched him. Your hands found his hair, expressing your gratitude with your nails against his scalp.

“Hiromi,” you cooed down to him, “ thank you, thank you.”

He was feeling pretty pleased with himself, pulling such beautiful praises from you with his little improvisation. The ice in his mouth was near melting and he sucked it in quickly, cooling his mouth, and kissed the juncture of your hip and your leg. Your hips twitched up barely at the chilled contact, but he noticed.

Higuruma wished he could say this was an entirely selfless pursuit, but the heat wasn’t the only thing keeping him awake tonight, he had roused himself near an hour ago now sporting a massive erection that hadn’t left him since. It had been too hot to fuck the last two nights and he was desperate for you. You were too, but tonight’s frustration had driven you mad before you had time to consider sex.

This time he held one cube in his mouth, and another in between his fingers. His hand held the cube to your lips, which you quickly began sucking at, suddenly noticing your dehydration. Proud of how well you could read his mind, he chuckled to himself, ice still in his mouth and leaned over you. He was kneeling between your legs, body caging you into the bed, as he dipped his head down to your collarbone, sliding the ice against the bone, and up your neck. Your satisfied sounds grew shaky, feeling a whole new form of stimuli. His fingers pushed the ice between your lips, then followed closely into the cavern of your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his middle and index fingers, sliding your tongue along where surface tension held the melted line of water.

He trailed the ice cube in his mouth down, between your breasts, marveling at how quickly your nipples erected themselves. His free hand wrapped around your right breast and he brought the ice across to circle the mound itself. You whimpered around his fingers. Hiromi smiled like a cat. He was so painfully hard, but not even his own pleasure could tempt him away from you right now. You sounded so beautiful under his touch, gasping as he added new ice, tongue slurping around his fingers, your back arching off the mattress as he circled your nipples.

“They’re melting right off of you, faster than I can replace.” He noted, catching your eye from his place between your breasts, “are you feeling cooler?”

You nodded helplessly, he looked so delicious to you like this. Mouth dripping, eyes blown out, his strong nose, his sharp features, his inky hair messy from your tugging.

He couldn’t help himself, he slithered back up to your face, kissing you desperately. Higuruma had always been an excellent kisser, but there were times like tonight where his passion was overwhelming. He kissed you like he was trying to spill all the love trapped in his chest directly into your open mouth. His tongue was like a creature of its own, exploring every texture of your mouth like he was studying you. The ice had cooled his mouth, yours too, so the kiss was creating its own hurricane. Chilled saliva mixing with hot, panting breaths.

You reached down, trying to reach the waistband of his boxers and slide them away, but his torso was so long you were coming up short. You grasped fruitlessly between your bodies, whimpering against his kisses.

“Off, baby, off, please. I need you.” You crooned against his lips, arching your chest into his own, your hands grabbing at his back.

You needed him so bad. He had already helped you so much, but he had fogged your mind completely. You weren’t sure how long you two had been playing his little ice game, but you were sure that it was enough time to have your pussy pulsating in desire. Hiromi chuckled at your pained pleas.

“You need some help, baby?” He slid his tongue against yours again so you couldn’t answer, “you need me to take care of you, is that it?”

You hated (loved) when he got cocky like this. Clearly so happy with himself for finding the solution to your ailments, you were sure that if the lights were on you could see him beaming with pride. You nodded again, hoping he wouldn’t do exactly what he did next.

“Say it.”

“Hiiiiiro…please it’s too hot…please.”

“Not until you say it.” He continued his kisses against your chin and neck, your body starting to heat itself again.

“Hiromi please, I need it so bad. I need you so bad. Please help me, Hiro.” You folded.

You rarely asked for help, in your marriage, in your personal life, at work. The phrase help me existed very rarely in your life, and you liked it that way. You were a capable woman, you didn’t like having to rely on anyone else. Even Higuruma, especially Higuruma. You loved him, and you did need him, but you hated admitting it. You hated the idea that one day the help you required from him would be too much, and he would resent you. But he loved it. He needed you to lean on him, he craved being needed by you. Times where you had fallen sick, and he had been able to wait on you hand and foot were some of his favorites. Obviously he hated when you were uncomfortable, but you so rarely asked anything of him. He wanted so badly to be there to help you. And here it was, a perfect opportunity for him to do just that, and he had. And he had heard you ask him, really ask him, for help. He nearly came untouched right then.

Hiromi quickly shed his underpants and kissed you again, deep and hard, his teeth clinking yours as he could no longer restrain himself. Your hands flew to his neck, pulling him closer to you. You hooked your legs up over his hips and released him for a moment so he could align himself at your core. His dark eyes met yours and you thought his pupils had turned to little hearts as he sheathed himself inside of you.

Everything about Hiromi Higuruma was long. His hands, his fingers, his legs, his nose, his body, and his cock was no exception. It seemed to go on forever as he penetrated you, pushing against your cervix and angling upwards to kiss the spot inside of you that sent stars into your vision. He let out a low howl, his eyes rolling back in his head, hands bruising your hips as he bottomed out.

“Fuck…” he cursed against the skin of your neck.

You whined, turning your head to the side and allowing him more access to your neck, you loved the feeling of his mouth kissing and biting you. The skin of your neck so sensitive, his teeth just barely scraping against the thin, taught skin. He pulled your thigh higher up on his hip, holding it back and allowing him to thrust deeper into you. The sounds of his balls slapping against your ass blended so perfectly with his low, throaty groans, and your choppy whimpers. His body shuddered as your walls clenched around him.

“Baby I’ll cum if you do that, stop.” His voice broke as he moved himself up into his hands, hips jerking into you uncontrollably.

“I want you to cum,” you moved your hands up his torso and chest, then up to his neck, you mewled against him once more, arching off the bed again, “cum inside me, Hiro. Please baby. You feel so good.”

He did, he filled you so completely, he always had, he knew exactly what you needed. He moved one of his hands to yours, bringing it to his mouth and kissing your fingers, regaining control over his thrusts and his breath. His other hand moved over your knee on his hip and down your thigh, bringing his thumb to your throbbing clitoris. You let out a shaky squeal, your jaw dropping in surprise.

“Then you’ll cum too.” He circled your clit perfectly, knowing your body maybe even better than you did.

Hiromi was an excellent, generous lover. He wanted to make you cum again and again before he did. In usual circumstances he would have pulled your orgasm from you with his fingers, then again with his tongue, then once more alongside him as he fucked you. But this was not a usual circumstance, his sweat dripped down his nose, your velvet walls felt so perfect around him, as though you were crafted just for him. Maybe you were? Maybe you and he were created just for one another, to please and love one another forever.

Your eyes fluttered closed as his efforts had your orgasm quickly approaching. Your hands gripped at his back and shoulders, loving the feeling of his lean muscle under your trembling fingers. The only thing leaving your lips was his name chanted over and over again. He could stop his hips from punishing your cervix more and more, his own voice croaking and moaning intelligibly.

“Baby please…I…oh fuck.” Hiromi was teetering on the edge of climax.

“I know. Me too. I love you.” You brought your hand to his face guiding it down to press your foreheads together.

His thrust became slower and more direct toward your g spot, his thumb continuing to rub your clit, your orgasm bubbling up inside of you.

“Kiss me.” Your voice was barely audible, but Hiromi connected your lips instantly.

That was the perfect, final push you both needed to climax together. He pumped twice more, deep inside of you, you could feel the stream of cum painting your insides. He could feel you fluttering around him. You kept your lips connected, panting into each other’s mouths. He stayed inside of you, making sure to keep his cum as deep as he could. The intimacy of being engulfed by you, and you being filled to the brim with him, bodies as close as two people can be, sweat and spit and cum combining together, it had you delirious.

“I love you.” You both breathed out, giggling afterwards at your moment of synchronization.

You clenched up around him once again as he pulled out.

“You tease” he shook his head before moving to lay next to you, catching his breath.

You lay side by side panting together, the endorphins flooding both of your bodies, slowly fading, and the heat returning to your bedroom. You reached over to hold his hand, turning to face him. He looked up at the ceiling, eyes closed, his hooked nose angled up, mouth open. He was playing the evening back in his mind, luxuriating in the warmth of your love and the celebration of that love that you two shared. He intertwined his fingers with yours and turned to face you, his eyes softening as soon as they locked with yours. He took in a breath to profess his love to you once more, but cutting him off the lights suddenly came back on. The whirring of your air conditioner started again, and your bedroom fan began humming. You both smiled in awe. Already feeling the change in the air of your bedroom, you sighed happily, snuggling into Hiromi’s side. He quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled the comforter over the pair of you.

“One of us has to get up and turn the lights off, you realize.” He kissed your forehead.

You groaned before peeling yourself from his side and starting to migrate to the wall switch. He pulled you back down by your arm making you bounce against the mattress.

“Oh stop, you know you’re not doing it.” He rolled his eyes and stood, his long legs needing only a few strides before he could flip the switch and darken the room again.

You were completely spoiled by him. You were so lucky to be with him, to be loved by him. He had gone so far out of his way tonight to help you feel comfortable. Hiromi slipped back into bed next to you, pulling you back into his embrace, burying his face in your neck.

“I love you, Hiromi.” You kissed his temple. “Thank you.”

“I love you too.” He kissed your cheek, you felt your eyes start to droop as cool air finally curl over your body.

——————————————————————————

Tag request!

@buttercupbitches I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for being my first person to ask for a tag request!!

180 notes · View notes

tinyundercover · 2 months

Text

pepper & felix

part one

In this universe, when a person turns 21, they gain the ability to communicate with their soulmate telepathically. For the borrower Pepper, this turns out to be quite a shock. word count: 2.9k

“Can you hear me?”

The words floated around Pepper’s mind for a moment, soft and fuzzy as if he was hearing them from a distance.

“Hello? Can you hear this?”

Pepper spun in a circle, searching for the source of the strange voice, but he was completely alone in the secluded area under a floorboard. He tensed up, briefly remembering a myth he had been told as a child, of soulmates and telepathic connections. He hadn’t thought it had been real, but…

“I’ll just try again later.”

After that, the voice went quiet, and the fuzzy feeling in Pepper’s mind vanished. He spent the next few seconds staring around at his surroundings, heart heavy. Once he was certain that he was completely alone, he tightened his grip on his satchel and continued his trek back home.

He could worry about the messages after he rationed out his food for the week.

—

The second time Pepper’s mind was filled with someone’s else’s voice, he felt more prepared.

The wiry black-haired borrower was sitting in his hammock, a thick piece of fabric being held up by two push pins in the wall. He had been absentmindedly scribbling in his journal when he heard it.

“Hello?”

Pepper bit his lip. He briefly thought back to the myth, stomach currently twisting in knots.

“It’s me. Your soulmate.”

A chill settled into Pepper’s stomach, and he drew his knees closer to his chest.

“Um, if you want to talk back, just interlock your fingers and press them to your chest. And then I’ll be able to hear you.”

Pepper didn’t really understand how moving his hands somehow would allow this mystery voice to hear him, but he knew that being heard was not something borrowers wanted. He drew his bottom lip into his mouth, vaguely wondering if he was going crazy.

The voice had gone quiet for a moment, clearly waiting for him to respond.

Pepper could hear the disappointment as the voice said, “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk. I don’t even know if you can hear this. But, I just wanted to say hi. We’re… We’re soulmates.”

Soulmates? Pepper swallowed hard. Most borrowers go their whole lives without seeing more than fifty others of their kind, and they needed to be incredibly lucky to find someone they liked enough to start a relationship with. The idea that there was another borrower out there, that was supposedly “perfect” for Pepper, was astounding.

What if his soulmate was hundreds of miles away, hiding somewhere across the country? Pepper would never be able to meet them.

“I just turned twenty-one a few days ago. You know, soulmate-connection age. Oh… maybe you’re not twenty-one yet and that’s why you can’t hear me. This is a little embarrassing, then. But I guess if you’re not listening, it doesn’t matter, right?”

Pepper was struggling to follow. He himself was twenty-two. You had to be at least twenty-one to communicate with your soulmate, then?

“I like to sing. I’ve always thought that my soulmate would maybe be a singer too. Or maybe not. I just get the feeling that you are artsy, too, you know?”

The borrower shifted in his hammock, peering down at the journal in his hands. He had ripped up thick sheets of paper and sewn them together with thread. He supposed he did enjoy making things.

“Are you artsy?”

The voice had lifted up a little, clearly hopeful that Pepper would respond. The borrower didn’t move an inch.

“...That’s okay. I’ll tune in later. Remember— interlocked hands on your chest. If you wanna talk.”

Pepper was left in silence. His small chest heaved with uneasy breaths, while tan arms hugged his journal close to his torso.

Despite his apprehension, it was kind of nice to hear about his… “soulmate.” His soulmate might even be sort of brave, considering the fact that he is apparently a singer. Pepper hadn’t met a single borrower that felt comfortable enough to even speak loudly, let alone identify themselves as a singer. A strange feeling of appreciation wormed its way into Pepper’s chest. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

Maybe it’s just nice to hear from someone, the borrower concluded. He had lived alone in the walls of this apartment for a little over two years, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had had a real conversation with someone.

A smile settling over his face, Pepper continued doodling in his journal.

—

“Hey. My sister came to visit today.”

Pepper nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun around, tiny hands clutched around a grape twice the size of his head. When he realized that he was alone in the kitchen, he relaxed microscopically.

“She just wanted to stop by to wish me a belated happy birthday. And she made me a bracelet, which is so sweet! I moved out a few years ago, and since we’re both so busy it’s hard to see each other. It was really nice.”

Pepper’s mind wandered to his own sister. She was a few years older than him, but they could be twins, sharing tan skin and shaggy black hair, two dark features that every borrower wished to have. Basil, Pepper's sister, had moved out when Pepper was fourteen. He had seen her twice since then, on the rare occasion she was able to stop home and say hi.

He really did understand his soulmate. If his hands weren’t holding the grape, he might have considered saying so.

“I don’t have any roommates, or anything, so I’m alone a lot.”

Pepper was trekking across the counter, one arm holding the grape to his hip. He reached the edge, where his hook was latched onto the smooth surface.

“I’m an introvert, so it’s fine, but it’s definitely nice to hear from the people that I care about. You know?”

It only took a few seconds for Pepper to slide all the way to the floor, carefully holding the grape in one arm to prevent it from falling.

“My sister asked me if I had heard from my soulmate, now that I’m twenty-one. She’s really into the soulmate thing, but she’s only eighteen, so she has to wait. Anyways, I told her that I had reached out to you, but I think you might be younger than me, and you can’t hear me, maybe. Or you’re just shy?”

Pepper found the crack at the base of the counter and eased his way through, yanking his hook and his grape with him. He was met by a familiar darkness, and he subconsciously relaxed in the safety of the walls.

“Anyways, well… It’s late, and I should probably get some sleep. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Pepper murmured, wishing he had the strength to truly say it back.

—

It had been a week since Pepper had first heard from his soulmate. Since then, the soft voice had entered his mind a total of five times— chatting about his sister, sometimes, or his favorite songs. Pepper was always left with a fondness, followed by a feeling of guilt, that he was ignoring his brave soulmate for the safety of his own comfort.

He was afraid that he would fall in love with this person. He would tell them all of his secrets and thoughts and desires, only to learn that they were miles and miles apart. Hell, even if his soulmate lived down the street, they would still be out of reach for a borrower.

But— why give up before even trying? Was it really that harmful to say hello?

So, Pepper pressed his shaky hands against his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart. He closed his eyes, focusing on the fuzziness in the back of his mind, tuning in. “Hello? Are you there?”

He felt his own heartbeat quicken as a voice immediately responded, bright and ecstatic.

“Yes! Hello! Oh my gosh!”

Pepper let out a sharp breath, a mix of a gasp and a laugh. Biting his tongue, he tried again. “It’s… nice to meet you. I’ve been wanting to talk back to you, but… I don’t know, I get scared every time. Um, yeah. I’m Pepper…”

Something strange happened, when he tried to say his name. He knew that he was saying “Pepper,” but as he did so, static had filled his mind, clouding the word.

“Oh! I guess you didn’t know. Soulmate telepathy doesn’t let you say your name. I didn’t catch that, I’m sorry.”

Huh.

“Why? That’s dumb.” Pepper’s brow furrowed.

“I don’t know. The universe makes the rules.”

Pepper laughed again, pressing his hands further against his chest. The warmth of his hammock surrounded him, but he was solely focused on the warmth of the voice in his mind. “Well, I guess I’ll always be a mystery to you.”

“I guess you will,” his soulmate said teasingly. Pepper smiled to himself, thinking hard before proposing his next question.

“Did you have a good day?”

“I did! I called my sister.”

Pepper blinked curiously. “You called her?”

“Yeah. To say thank you again, for the bracelet. I haven’t taken it off since she gave it to me!”

The borrower stared at the wall, trying to fit the pieces together in his mind. “Do you live close to her?”

“Oh yeah, she’s only like twenty minutes away. I just called her because I was out all day.”

Pepper nodded to himself. That made more sense, he supposed. If his soulmate lived that close to his sister he could easily call out to her while on a borrowing trip.

“I have a sister too,” Pepper admitted. “But I haven’t seen her in… maybe a year? She’s six years older than me, and once we both moved out, well… you know how it is. We are not nearly as close as you and your sister.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Were you two close growing up?”

“Yeah, definitely. We actually lived right next to a bakery, and she would always come home with the best stuff. She got me a big piece of this brownie thing once, and it was incredible.”

Pepper found himself smiling at the memory of Basil coming home with a big chunk of chocolate, beaming as she showed it to her younger brother. They had shared it and it had been the best thing Pepper had ever tasted.

He wondered how Basil was doing.

“Aww, that’s sweet! She seems like a nice sister.”

“She was.” Pepper relaxed into the hammock, closing his eyes. “I’d like to run out and visit her soon. Especially now that it’s getting warmer, and I can actually walk outside without drowning in snow.”

“Yeah, I get that,” his soulmate said with a note of amusement. “I still have a bruise on my leg from where I slipped on ice last December.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow. His soulmate must really be brave, going outside in the middle of winter! “I couldn’t imagine trying to walk on ice.”

“No need to rub it in,” his soulmate giggled, and he once again was left in confusion.

When Pepper said nothing, his soulmate continued. “So, how old are you? What do you do for fun?”

Pepper chewed his lip. “I’m twenty-two. And I’m crafty, I guess? I like to draw sometimes, when I have the materials. I really like to make things.”

“I knew you would be artsy!” His soulmate said brightly. “What do you make?”

Pepper stared around his room from the height of his hammock. A scrappy rug, fairy lights, and assorted articles of clothing surrounded him. “Decorations for my room. I’ve really started getting into clothing, too. I just finished up a jacket, actually.”

“That’s so cool!”

“…Thank you,” Pepper responded, mildly surprised.

“I’m not very good with my hands, but I’m pretty good at singing. I like to perform.”

“That’s cool, too,” Pepper admitted. “I’ve never sang in my life. I don’t really know how, and I would be so scared of getting caught.”

“Aw, that’s okay. I used to be super shy when I was younger, but the stage fright eventually goes away, I promise!”

Pepper blinked up at the ceiling. “…Thanks?”

“Oh— sorry, I should probably go. I’ve got to get up early tomorrow. But… I’ll talk to you tomorrow..? If that’s okay?”

“Yes,” Pepper said immediately.

“Okay, great! Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight!”

“Goodnight.”

—

Pepper’s heart was pounding out of his chest.

He stood stiffly, back pressed against a metal thermos. He was currently stranded on the counter in the early hours of the morning, and he had greatly underestimated how early the resident human would be getting up today.

The heavy sound of footsteps filled his ears. Pepper swallowed hard, praying that the human wouldn’t touch his thermos of coffee anytime soon. The human usually forgot his coffee half the time, as sporadic as he was. Hopefully Pepper will be lucky this time.

The borrower shuffled to the side, peering around the edge of the thermos. His stomach chilled at the sight of the massive human.

The human’s hands alone dwarfed Pepper in size. A torso the size of a house moved around the room, easily carrying an enormous backpack that Pepper couldn’t even imagine trying to budge. A head of sand-colored hair was turned away from the borrower, much to his relief. The human seemed to be typing something on his phone.

The human left his apartment at different times each day, which was frustrating for Pepper. The borrower wouldn’t have ventured out this morning if he knew the human would be up before the sun rose.

Pepper’s gaze darted over to a thin crack on the wall, a few feet to the side. He could make a dash for it, but it would take about fifteen seconds to get there, and the human could turn around in any of those seconds… Pepper could wait for the human to leave the apartment, but the human might not leave without grabbing his thermos first…

The sound of keys jangling filled his ears, and Pepper’s blood ran cold. He begged for the human to leave.

He heard enormous footsteps receding, moving away from him, and he nearly sobbed in relief before a murmur filled the air. “Fuck, almost forgot—“

It took less than three seconds for the human to cross the room, and Pepper slapped his hands over his mouth at the sight of massive pale fingers closing around the thermos. He instinctively flinched away, staring up as the thermos was pulled away, leaving him stranded on the counter with a human who was sure to snatch him up the moment he laid his eyes on the defensiveness borrower—

But… the human wasn’t even looking at him.

Pepper swayed on his feet, staring at the human who was now opening his front door and stepping outside. The human had grabbed his thermos and left the apartment without even sparing a glance in Pepper’s direction.

The front door clicked shut, and the second Pepper was alone he collapsed to his knees, hugging his chest. Heavy gasps left his mouth, as the terror of the last thirty seconds left his body in shaky waves. “Oh my god, oh my god…”

He swallowed thickly, squeezing his eyes shut. Without even realizing what he was doing, he slid his hands to his chest, clasping his fingers together. “Hello? Hello? Are you there?”

It took a few agonizing seconds to receive a response, and Pepper almost sobbed in relief at the familiar soft voice that filled his mind. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I almost just got caught,” Pepper blurted, heart pounding.

“What do you mean?”

“Caught! I almost got caught! I was out, and the bean almost saw me, I almost— oh my god, I could have… this could have been so bad. Oh my god.”

His soulmate was silent for a long time, and Pepper’s stomach twisted in apprehension, a feeling that quickly morphed into irritation, that his soulmate would just ignore him when he was so clearly upset.

“Did you hear me?” He demanded with more anger that he intended.

“Uh, yeah, I— yeah, I heard you, I’m just a little confused. Sorry. Are you okay?”

Pepper swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut. Suddenly filled with the horrifying thought that the human could return at any moment, he jumped to his feet, beginning to jog towards the crack in the wall. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine now, he’s gone. I— I’m sorry, I’m just shaken up. That was just a really close call.”

“Uh,” his soulmate said. “Were you in danger? Did someone attack you? Maybe you should call nine-one-one?”

Pepper nearly laughed at the absurdity. “Of course I was in d—“

He skidded to a halt suddenly. “…nine… one one?”

“Yeah? Oh, I’m sorry— are you not in America? What’s your emergency line?”

Ice seeped into Pepper’s veins. His hands remained clasped against his chest, although they were significantly shakier than they were before.

“Are you… a…”

Pepper couldn’t bring himself to ask. Despite being alone, terror was sinking into his stomach like a rock. There was no way. No way!

“I’m sorry,” Pepper said numbly, staggering towards the crack in the wall. “I have to go.”

“Wha— are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Sorry. I promise I’m fine. Bye.”

His hands fell from his chest as he squeezed into the walls, immediately stumbling against a piece of wood to catch his balance. His soulmate was sending him a confused farewell, but he could barely hear it over the blood pounding in his ears.

“I can’t believe this,” Pepper heaved, burying his face in his hands. “My— my soulmate is a human?”

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :]

reposts are appreciated <3

#g/t #g/t writing #borrowers #gt writing #gt #pepper & felix #gt romance #g/t romance #g/t soulmates

176 notes · View notes

elvisalltheway101 · 4 months

Text

•Cup Em, Just Right•

summary: You’re starting to make your love for his tummy abit too public, and Elvis feels embarrassed about it but secretly loves it.

author’s note: this is dedicated to @mercsandmonsters and @bigdaddyelvislover. It’s a fluffy little thing! I was watching blue Hawaii while writing annd it’s official. My favorite song out of it is this one. Anyway Enjoy it, mwah!

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Whenever you get the chance, you slip your hand sneakily into his shirt to only graze your thumb against his little pink nub. Giggling like a schoolgirl as his eyes widen and he quickly swats your hand playfully and scolds at you with just the talk in his eyes.

Especially when he brings you along to his meetings with the press and work conversations, that’s your time that you like to show your love most. As the grumpy old boss man speaks out and turns his back, you take that moment to lean your face in and bury your nose into his chest that peaks out from his v-neck suit.

Your eyes flutter close as you inhale and hum at the salty and sweet scent of his dark locks on his very chest. Only for you to be interrupted by Elvis’ tapping on your cheek. When you pull away, he can’t help but snicker and shake his head, whispering. “Damnit doll, could ya at least wait til we get to the damn parking lot?”

Whenever you walk along the grass that wraps around Graceland, you can’t help your love outside either. In his loose shirt that’s left with buttons undone, his damn chest is just screaming your name.

You randomly wrap your arms around his large frame, nuzzling your face into chest. His wiry black curls tickle and scrape against your cheeks and eyelids. Your knees feel weak and nearly loose muscle and concentration with every inhale you take of his cologne. So he has to practically drag you on his leg because you won’t budge off him.

His body, but more specifically his chest, is an addiction. Your addiction. But are you afraid to admit it? Nope, not at all. Like what’s not to like? Or perhaps, love at this point.

His fine broad shoulders, the tummy that prods at your back whenever you cuddle as small spoon. And whenever you were a bare back dress you love it at most. Your back feels and arches into his growing mane that decorates and clouds his chest and stomach. You always earn a chuckle from him and a light smack on your bum from his large palm“,You’re a silly girl, you know that?”

But the time when you cannot control yourself is during his shows. Whenever he’s planted on that large black stage, he’s in all his glory that he’s almost glowing. That deep cut jumpsuit that’s so far down his chest peaks out. And you can just feel your cheeks flush and hot in the front row seat that was assigned just for you by Elvis.

His tummy all out and fine with the hair that clings onto him by the sweat of his hard work. He glows and glistens for the whole world to see. And him in this miraculous state almost makes you a tad bit jealous because the world and television sees him like this too. But hm, it’s fine you guess. This is just a pinch of what you see everyday.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the delicious sight that you and you only sees backstage. His body sweaty and glowing under that blue suit of his. Sweat droplets run down his face and rain onto your sweet cheeks as he peppers your face with candy kisses. Your arms sneak and cuddle into his suit, your arms becoming damp and almost wet as you hug him tighter. Your nose and lips bury between the cups of his chest and your chin presses onto the top of his yummy belly.

You’re in your heaven, and he won’t stop you this time. He can’t help but love this as well.

You’re his lil’ tummy lover.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Author’s note: my requests are closed for now, but I’m open for questions. You can send in your requests if you’d like, but I’m just guilty to write them and put them out after a while. So just beware im a slow ass 💀

#elvis #elvis presley #spotify #elvisaaronpresley #elvis imagine #elvis x y/n #enjoy!#big daddy elvis #butterflies #tummy loving #big daddy elvis fluff #big baby #elvis x reader #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #Spotify

132 notes · View notes

treason-and-plot · 6 months

Text

Anita has always distrusted her chin; it has a bad reputation for making her look fat and slovenly in the mirror and in photos, even when the rest of her has been slim and svelte. And since her last birthday it has found an even more evil way to torment her -by randomly sprouting wiry black hairs!

So in an effort to tame her recalcitrant chin Anita spends approximately three hours a week at Raffaela's Beauty Clinic where she has the fat molecules under her chin destroyed using revolutionary High Intensity Focused Ultrasound Technology, and the hair follicles zapped using Medical-Grade Laser Technology. Today Raffaela also talked her into having an Alkaline Wash Treatment to reduce the downy hairs on her face, and an eyebrow shape and tint. Total damage to Anita's credit card: §575.

When she arrives home at dinner time Joël is stirring something in a pot on the stove, and Alice is in her high chair eating her dinner of mashed pumpkin and potato. Anita kisses Alice on the forehead and goes over to check out what Joël is making, lured by the smells of bacon and fried onion and black pepper and garlic. It's some type of creamy pasta dish.

"That looks and smells sublime, darling," she says to him. "How was your afternoon?"

"Alice and I had a great time," says Joël. "I read her three different books and then we took Brutus for a walk and she fell asleep in the stroller for about half an hour and then we hung out at the park and she helped me feed the ducks. Hey, did you know there are turtles in the duck pond? I took some photos, if you want to see them later-"

"Of course, I'd love to see them," says Anita. "How was the job hunting?"

"I'll have a look tomorrow," says Joël. "I was too busy with Alice today."

"You didn't even browse the job ads?" says Anita, trying to keep the dismay out of her voice.

"I said I'll do it tomorrow," says Joël. "Hey, Alice has finished her food. Do you want to get her cleaned up and put her in the playpen? I'll give her a bath after we've eaten."

"Okay," says Anita. She has always been able to justify what she spends on her beauty treatments, but that was when Joël was earning a good income. She is attacked by sudden guilt over the §575 she spent today. Ugh, guilt is such a useless, crippling emotion. And even worse, she's sure it causes wrinkles!

#joël #anita #Alice #5 years later #back to Bridgeport

118 notes · View notes

morethansalad · 1 year

Text

Guyanese Vegan Pepperpot (video link)

19 notes · View notes

oharamwah · 10 months

Text

ଓ + — soft boyfriend headcanons

boyfriend!miguel x fem!reader

contents : fluuuufff and some nsfw, super messy and all over the place. i’m telling u this is so unstructured.

no heavy nsfw but suggestive themes under the cut

posted august 1st - to be edited !

i’m so down bad for this man and he isn’t even real but that means i get to make up whatever headcanons i like abt what it’d be like to date him 😋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ ｡･ﾟﾟ･･｡ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ ｡･ﾟﾟ･｡⋆

♡ i just wanna get straight to the point — miguel’s kisses are soooo. mmph.

♡ he’s the type to keep things at a small peck when others are around or when you two are a little busy and on your feet

♡ like he’ll be at work like always and you’ll pop into his home office just to drop off a snack and he’ll pull you closer by your chin to kiss you DKSJDHSKLD

♡ and when he’s working from home and he’s in sweatpants (a rare sight for many) and he has his thin wiry dad glasses on oh my

♡ buuuut, but. this man knows how to kiss properly too

♡ also we all know miguel is bossy, and this applies both in and out of the workplace

♡ he is huuuuuge on princess treatment

♡ making sure you barely have to lift a finger to do anything when he’s around, especially during intimate hours

♡ he is big on aftercare, never wants you to feel any pain during or after sex. well, with some exceptions. all he wants is for you to feel good. so, if you ask him for a tummy massage or a back rub, he’ll do it no hesitation.

♡ like ok i’m not gonna make this an nsfw hc post but… spanking 🤗

♡ anyway.. he’s definitely the type of boyfriend to keep lots of baby wipes and deodorant and any girly things you’d need in a separate bathroom cupboard, exclusively for you and when you stay the night

♡ speaking of, refuses to let you pay for anything when you’re out shopping. say you walk by the department store and you remember that you ran out of pads or shampoo, he has it covered

♡ he’s just so… idk he loves taking care of you in every aspect.

♡ y’know when boyfriends carry their girlfriend’s bridal style when their high heels hurt their feet ?? yeah that’s miguel.

♡ again, he hates seeing you in any kind of pain. even if your shoulder bag is just a little too heavy, he’s got it

♡ always reminds you that you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.

♡ you’ll be getting ready for a fancy dinner party and you’re staring at yourself in the mirror feeling a little self conscious, poking and pinching at parts of your tummy, arms, anything you felt insecure about at the time

♡ and instead of letting you know that he saw you, he’d come up from behind you and just start showering you with compliments and butterfly kisses

♡ because the last thing he wants is for you to feel even more insecure because you got caught, he just wants you to know what he thinks about you

♡ “so pretty my angel, is that a new dress?”

♡ he’d ask, knowing he’s the one that bought it

♡ *kiss* “you do your makeup differently today?” *kiss* “i like it, honey.”

♡ AGGHH he’s just too sweet. he always knows how to make you feel comfortable.

♡ king of small kind gestures because even though he could compliment you and all that jazz, you find that he doesn’t really say “i love you” that often. instead, he shows it to you

♡ he knows exactly how you like your eggs, down to the amount of salt and pepper you use

♡ he also knows you like peeling your own oranges but you always struggle to start them, so he’d use his fangs to peel a little piece for you to peel from

♡ and he pre-slices all the lemons because he knows you like lemon water but you kinda suck at using knives

♡ if you leave your glasses/sunnies at his place, he’ll take it upon himself to clean them for you

♡ knows the kinds of snacks you like on movie nights so he stocks up on them, never leaving his pantry empty. no, he never eats snacks, but he knows you do <3

♡ he’s also the type to drive you out wherever and whenever you want. night drives, sunset viewing, anything you wanna do he’s willing to take you there. you’re his passenger princess!!

♡ also omg so random but i feel like he’s lowkey insecure of his fangs. like he knows they can be a bit intimidating and cause some worry, so whenever he smiles around you he tries to keep them inside but they just peek out his lips and it’s skfkskfj so cute

♡ and when he laughs he covers his mouth so sometimes you have to place your hand over his, and he’ll look at you all “what..?” and you’ll peel his hand back and be all cute about it

♡ “show me your smileee” and he gets all SHYYY

♡ he’s definitely the angry/grumpy shy with you, he can’t help but feel a little embarrassed about being shy or flustered but he also kinda enjoys the feeling

♡ sorry this is so unorganized but i just had another thought

♡ he’s just so familiar with being in the same bed as you by now that he can tell when somethings wrong just by the movements you’re making

♡ or if you’re shifting around a lot in your spot, he won’t say anything but he’ll grab onto your waist to let you know he’s there and he’ll pull you a bit closer so you feel more at ease

♡ AND EVEN IF YOU ARENT IN HIS BED, he’ll never go into your spot. that’s your spot. though he does take the pillow and hug it sometimes. sometimes..

♡ he even washes your pillowcase more often than he washes his sheets because he knows how particular you are about your skincare and haircare

♡ but he’s also super particular about his own hygiene, constantly freshening himself up with like spray deodorants and stuff. and a lot of mouth wash. he takes dental care very seriously.

♡ like he even reminds you to floss every night and prepares you a cup of mouth wash and seals it with a kiss hehdheh

♡ that man is so clean. deadass. he works so hard yes but he always makes sure to be clean because the last thing he wants is to be a loser that SMELLS bad (LOLLDFKMSM)

♡ you’re the only person he’ll listen to when it comes to bedtime

♡ he’s always being scolded by his colleagues to get more sleep because his under eyes are getting darker than a winter night sky

♡ but he always just brushes them off — unless it’s you

♡ he’s actually kinda nervous to make you upset. like he could never even dream of making you upset or mad at him he couldn’t handle that

♡ you two never argue, you only have very passionate debates

♡ you’re usually right in the end, and he accepts that. he just hates when you two disagree. so when apologizing for being stubborn and making you upset, he speaks in a way softer tone than he would anyone else. it’s a bit higher than his normal voice and it’s very airy, very comforting and apologetic

♡ he’s just such a softie for youuuu waoooowwww

♡ anyway i’m gonna post this and come back to it when i have new ideas instead of posting a bunch of separate ones <3 enjoy angels !

#miguel o'hara #miguel ohara fluff #i love miguel ohara #atsv miguel #miguel ohara fanfiction #atsv fanfiction #miguel o’hara i love you #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara headcanon

242 notes · View notes

ashbub · 7 months

Text

blessings

genshin impact: venti × gn!reader

contents: college au, mild cursing! [4.1k]

IN WHICH: a boy with blue haired tips suddenly appears & your life has suspiciously gotten a whole lot easier

❝ may the winds bless your travels! ❞

The first clue that something was off about him should have been on the first day you two had met.

You had been resting the edge of your elbow lazily across the surface of the scribbled-on chair in front of you, the lecture room softly buzzing as your muttering professor began pulling up his PowerPoint presentation on the projector.

Introduction to the History of Teyvat to Present Day

Not that you could really give a shit this early in the chilly winter morning, especially with how you found out last minute you had to take this class as a requirement for your major- rushing your ass to squeeze in this class for the semester before any of the remaining spots could be taken.

The crowded classroom had the hum of the bustling morning filling the air while you lazily fished out your charger from the crevices of the bag. As students filed in, there was a symphony of exchanged greetings, the rustling of book bags, and the soft murmur of back-and-forth conversation.

You had your busted-up laptop propped neatly on the warmth of your lap, a small yawn resting on your pursed lips. You had elected to sit in the back row of the lecture hall for this first day of class to gauge the atmosphere of the classroom. You nuzzled the tip of your chin deeper into the thick fabric of the chestnut brown sweater you had worn as your smooth fingertips wandered over the mousepad, carefully skimming the blaring syllabus in front of you.

"Can I borrow a pencil by any chance, friend?"

The voice was soft, almost like the beginning melody of a song into your perked ears- Your soft eyes flickered lightly over to the occupied seat beside you, a young man digging his hand vigorously into the empty pockets of his leather satchel, his pale fingers instead pulling at the fabric of the bottom of his bag pitifully.

His bright eyes were a serene teal, looking towards you with a hint of bashfulness at his situation, the tips of his braided hair sharing the same tinted resemblance of his expectant eyes. He wore a light blue hoodie and worn-out jeans to the lecture, his fair skin warmly blushing against the snug layers that hugged him.

He was ethereal.

"Yeah, it's fine-" You quietly mumbled, snapping from the sudden stare before pulling out a thin mechanical pencil you had packed with you, the edges of the clear plastic having indented faint teeth marks from your late-night study sessions with your roommate, Amber.

He lightly smiled, a warmth grazing across his thin lips before smoothly accepting the pencil from your grasp. Mouthing out a quick, "Thank you," before turning to focus on the flickering presentation, the soft rustles of his notebook paper humming through your ears.

Your teacher had finally started his presentation after fumbling with the remote of the projector, keeping his introduction short before reviewing the coursework required from your class throughout the semester.

He was a middle-aged man, with salt-and-pepper hair and a perpetually disheveled appearance. His wrinkled, mismatched attire, featuring a misbuttoned shirt and untied shoelaces as his wiry glasses, had been frequently perched atop his rustled head, had seen better days, with duct tape barely holding them together.

Truthfully, you weren't really paying attention throughout his discussion of the syllabus. The notes you were typing were sporadic and sloppy at best, you had nearly even forgotten a whole section of notes about the future lessons till the same boy you had given your pencil leaned over, the faint scent of dandelions suddenly lingering.

Dandelions, huh.

"He's going to be discussing the seven divine seats of Celestia," The bright-eyed boy mused carefully, a curious glimmer peeking from the corner of his gaze before lightly tapping the empty section of notes presented on the screen of your dimly lit laptop, "The Archon War," His whisper was soft with the reminder, a small laugh hanging on his pursed lips with the edge of his fingertip curiously placed on the end of his chin.

The muted hum of the old heater provided a constant backdrop to the lecture. Students occasionally shifted in their stiff seats, their movement accompanied by the subtle rustling of winter jackets and scarves. The professor's voice was clear at the very least, carrying in the crisp air as they endeavored to hold the students' attention, your light laugh mingling back.

"Thanks," The tips of your fingers curiously lingered on the smooth keys in front of you- His notebook had remained unmarked, the occasional eraser mark shyly grazing the paper with a content smile tugging the edges of his coy mouth. You tilted the screen of your laptop towards him from your lap, his pale complexion rosy under the warmth of the fluorescent lighting that flickered above in the classroom, "You didn't take any notes yourself; did you want to copy mine?"

He contently tapped the side of his forehead with a light hum, a quick wink fluttering towards your direction at the sudden rise of your right eyebrow, "I have a musician's memory, I remember most of this by heart." He proclaimed teasingly with a nearly sing-songy voice, his thin hand smoothly tugging on the thick drawstrings of his light blue hoodie.

Your eyes flickered towards his satchel, mostly remaining empty- Except with the small instrument peeking out: The lyre that was tucked away was a small wonder, made to be portable yet grand in appearance. Its body was a gleaming wood, richly stained and polished to a deep, honeyed hue.

As the professor concluded the day's lecture short, the college class began to stir with anticipation for the upcoming event. Students bundled up tightly in heavy coats and thick scarves gathered their array of belongings and began shuffling out of the classroom with soft murmurs, eager to escape the biting cold from outdoors to their next class.

You usually were out the door as soon as it was fucking clear too, no reason ever to stick behind, frequently hurrying to remain in the comfort of your dorm. Much to the disappointment of your roommate, who was very much excited at the prospect of a chattering conversation.

However, you had carefully tucked your closed laptop into the main pocket of your bookbag as your teeth chewed over your plump bottom lip, your voice smoothly carrying over to the boy with the dyed braids beginning to rise from the warmth of his seat beside you, "Are you a part of the school band? My classmate, Barbara, she's part of the school choir-" Your sudden question was immediately joined with the company of the faint tilt of your head, "I just have never seen you before around here."

His excitement was nearly bursting from the seams. "I actually recently joined the band here, I'm a new transfer-" His soft teal eyes shone almost brightly, a faint pop of his lips amusingly slipping out before adjusting the strap of his leather satchel over his shoulder with a shrug, "You certainly wouldn't forget a cute face like mine, huh?"

Feeling the ends of your ears grow slightly warmer at his boldness, you choose to ignore the question with a small scoff, instead scooping up your bookbag to the safety of your bundled arms in the midst of the conversation, "Freshman?" You replied with a soft laugh, your gentle fingertips tightly wrapping around the thin handle of your school bag before examining the youthful spirit hum.

His dark eyelashes fluttered closed at the comment, "Actually, I'm a senior!~" His dainty hands dug around the back pockets of his faded jeans, quickly patting around the thick surface before a small "aha!" formed on his smooth lips, tugging out a small brochure. “I am a bit older than what I look as many say.”

The pamphlet was littered with half-completed doodles across the front page, the information barely legible at first glance as you cautiously took it from his grasp- "You should come to watch me play!" He clicked his tongue cheekily at the offer, waving a small pointer finger at you, "I'm certain you would be entertained with my songs, mm?"

Before you could muster a reply to his offer, a mysterious yet enchanting melody began playing in the air faintly, your eyes softly widening at the soothing whisper of music. You turned your head to find the source of the sweet song but saw no one there, only a few remaining students rustling up their notes into the safety of their bags, clearly preoccupied. Bewildered, you looked back at the dark-haired boy, but he, too, had nearly vanished into thin air, leaving you with the pamphlet in hand and as he had begun to open the elongated doors of the classroom with a lingering laugh.

The winter air streamed through the tall windows of the lecture hall, casting warm, elongated shadows across the worn wooden floors, "Wait-" His damp, white Converse sneakers pausing at your sudden call with a faint squeak as your voice remained thick with confusion, "I didn't catch your name-"

The ends of his braided hair swayed contently over his shoulder, loosely resting his fingertips over the handle of the lecture hall- His peeking smile was widely spread across his face at your sudden interest, a near mischievous glint emerging from the corner of his green eyes that for a brief second, you could have sworn under the swaying classroom lights were faintly glowing.

"Venti."

"The history of Teyvat is important, [y/n]!"

The dorm room was illuminated by a soft, warm glow as you and Amber huddled around your shared desks, engrossed in your studies. The room was adorned with bookshelves filled with classic novels and dented textbooks, and an array of post-it notes and highlighters were strewn about on the surface.

"I know- Which is why I'm studying this for the pop quiz, Amber."

Your roommate had puffed out her rosy cheeks, her hands smoothly closing your laptop shut with a small sigh, "Not just because of that- The history behind Teyvat is extremely part of our culture, of why our world is shaped the way it is. You are a transfer student, it is important to understand the stories and why they are so important." Amber had warmly reached over to run her fingertips over the fur of her pet bunny, dangling a bright carrot to the twitching nose that stuck out from the metal cage.

Relinquishing the snack over to the nibbling bunny, Amber briefly glanced at you with softening eyes, her warm brown eyes mingling with flecks of gold, "It is said that the seven archons were defeated in amidst the war, their remains scattered across Teyvat. Our nation was thrown into chaos, where lands were sent in disarray with the lack of guidance from our gods."

"But they managed to survive? Humanity?"

The brunette sat herself on the edge of her bed, smoothing out her bedroom sheets with her fingers, "Well, obviously, but many believe that the gods survived, regaining their strength and hiding amongst us humans for thousands of years."

Her eyes looked up at you.

"One day, the gods will return."

The memory was fresh of the study session between you & Amber.

Your gloved hands warmly wrapped around the paper cup of hot chocolate that you had purchased, the shimmering golden mora smoothly justling in the room of your back pocket. With a textbook in one hand and a well-worn backpack slung over your shoulder, you balanced a steaming cup in the other. The paper cup was adorned with a seasonal design that seemed to shimmer in the morning light, a small touch of cheer in the otherwise frosty world.

The campus was a world transformed during the first snow. As the first snowfall of the season blanketed the college grounds, it cocooned the familiar landscape in a glistening white tapestry. Every building, every tree, every path, and every bench was adorned with a layer of pristine snow. The air held a crisp chill, and a sense of hushed serenity settled over the campus, broken only by the soft crunch of footsteps and the occasional delighted gasps of students.

You were only going to see Venti for a second. After all, he had seemed rather excited to perform. It wouldn't hurt to slip by for a few seconds to listen to some music.

As you navigated your way through the snow-draped campus, your steps left a trail of footprints that soon vanished in the white expanse. You took deliberate sips from your cup, relishing the warmth that spread from your fingertips to your core. The hot chocolate was a comforting blend of rich cocoa, topped with a dollop of whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon. Amber had recommended the drink profusely, exclaiming that it was the only thing that had gotten her through her late-night shifts as campus security.

Among the snow-covered trees on the campus quad, the flushed bard had set up his performance space, seeming to have not noticed your presence while muttering to himself- a few wooden boxes messily set up across the snow for a makeshift stage that you quietly chuckled at.

Venti was a modest figure at a closer glance, his wiry frame enveloped in a weathered, woolen coat that had probably seen better days. His dark, tousled hair, and ruddy cheeks were the only bits of color in his otherwise enveloped dark green appearance. His nimble fingers danced gracefully along the strings of a weathered lyre in preparation, coaxing hauntingly beautiful melodies from the instrument.

In the midst of this snowy landscape, you found yourself leaning against the sturdy trunk of a massive oak tree. In your hands, you held a cup of hot chocolate contently, the warmth from which seeped through your soft gloves and into your chilly fingers. The swirling steam rising bashfully from your cup formed a fragrant wisp in the frosty air.

You rarely attended these sorts of events- Due to your busy schedule, you occasionally stopped by a concert or two held by the school to support Barbara and her singing- She was one of Amber's close friends who happened to be a part of the school's prestigious choir program.

You watched the scene unfold before you, a gentle smile played on the end of your lips. Your eyes were drawn to a small male bard who had set up his stage not far from yourself tucked away near the tree. You had ultimately concluded he had an unassuming charm about him, his flushed fingers deftly strumming a lyre once more, while his smooth voice wove melodies that seemed to be born from the winter winds themselves.

As the bard played, your gaze was fixed on him, and you couldn't help but admire his talent, his nose flushed and wrinkled up in the crisp air that enveloped the environment. The soft, haunting tunes resonated with the wintry landscape; each note imbued with emotion.

The audience, which now had mainly consisted of wandering college students slowly gathering around him, listened in rapt attention, their jagged breath forming misty clouds in the cold.

You would have remembered Venti if you had seen him before- How could you not? He was damn near impossible to miss.

The bard's performance had a dreamy quality, like the whispers of forgotten tales carried by the winter breeze. A chuckle escaped from behind your wool mittens, before stiffening just as quickly.

Though, you couldn't help but notice something curious.

Each time a particularly poignant note was struck, a small, subtle gust of wind seemed to dance around the strings of the lyre, rustling his thick layer of clothing and the edges of his dyed hair ever so slightly.

It was barely noticeable. Honestly, you were doubting you had even seen it happen to begin with.

But then- another gust of brisk wind had fluttered the fabric of his dark coat, his brightening eyes glinting playfully at the whispering winds.

Your lowered eyes had caught these brief moments, flickering quickly to his wooden lyre that bathed in the attention that the bard had given him. You shifted your position slightly with your worn-out snow boots crunching under the freshly packed snow, trying to get a better look at the bard as your hot chocolate cup, nearly forgotten in your hand, suddenly felt cooler, though the drink inside was still piping hot.

You watched with a soft breath lingering on your chapping lips, what could you say? Your curiosity was piqued. The hints of wind abilities you thought you had noticed must be a trick of the imagination, you reasoned to yourself. Yet, as the blissful bard continued to play, the enigmatic breezes seemed to return, as if drawn by the mournful melodies.

The audience remained captivated, warmly bundled up students turning to one another in excited whispers and raising of the warm drinks, oblivious to the subtle interplay of air around the bard.

You- However, had already turned away.

It had been a day or so since you had last spoken to Venti- You weren't avoiding him per se, but with your mind jumbled with upcoming assignments & adjusting to a semester abroad, the bard wasn't exactly easing the whole transition period either.

You briefly nuzzled your chin into the warmth of your freshly washed hoodie- You had elected to wear an ensemble of faded jeans and a pair of well-worn sneakers since you would only be heading to one class for the afternoon: Biology. Your dark backpack was stuffed to the brim with assorted textbooks and notebooks with post-it notes, boring a few coffee spills across the previous semesters, adorned with patches and pins in a measly attempt to cover them up.

From what you noted, the stairwell remained overall silent during the late afternoons, except for the occasional echoes of footsteps and distant voices from other parts of the building. The hushed tones and stillness of the stairwell were a stark contrast to the vibrant and energetic campus life just beyond its walls.

The stairs were constructed of sturdy concrete, its walls painted in a neutral shade of beige that had faded slightly over the years. It featured a broad central staircase with polished wooden steps that bore the marks of countless footsteps.

You had rounded a corner to enter the stairs, adjusting some of the notebooks you had balanced in your grasp before setting your foot to notice the worn and uneven steps ahead.

"Hey, [y/n], wait up!"

Then, it happened. A sudden, unexpected stumble sent you hurtling forward. Panic flashed in your eyes as your thick textbooks and multiple sheets of paper rustled into the air to escape from from loosening grasp. The ground seemed to rush up to meet you, and it felt like time itself had slowed.

Your eyes had flickered over to the owner of the voice- It had been Kaeya. The previous teasing smile that had usually adorned his sun kissed skin slipped- His dark hair had been messily tucked behind his round ears, his own expression stiffening at the top of the stairwell as his gloved hand raggedly reached out in an attempt to grasp for yours.

For an agonizingly long moment, you teetered on the precipice, your thumping heart lodged tightly in the back of your throat and your stiffening arms windmilling with the sudden tumble- Your cold fingertips attempted to reach for the edge of the metal railing in panic, rapidly clawing at the crisp air, grasping at anything to prevent the inevitable descent. The sudden voice had jolted you, your bright eyes suddenly widening with the impending collision with the bottom of the empty staircase.

But just as suddenly- the warmth of an adorning wind had fluttered past your skin.

Dandelions.

It lifted you gently and effortlessly at your sudden jagged breath, as though cradled by comforting invisible hands that slithered through the weight of your back. Your fall was halted for a second, only for a second, and you had hovered mid-air.

Your wide eyes met those of the boy with the smell of dandelions, the same bard with the expectant lush green eyes- His pale hands had carefully been placed on your upper back warmly in an attempt to steady your weight in his arms.

The thin ends of his braided hair nearly tickled your warm cheeks as you had frantically clutched the fabric of the thick sweater he had been wearing with your fingers with a small gasp, a single Cecilia pin adorning his chest proudly.

Venti.

He gently lowered you to the ground with his dainty hands quietly remaining on the edge of your quivering shoulders, the tips of his sneakers touching smoothly the final step with a small laugh slipping from his pink lips, you were safe- unscathed. Your scattered sheets of homework assignments decorated the floor beneath you.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, [y/n]-" Venti smiled teasingly, the curled ends of his mouth twinging upwards with a singular pointer finger waddling in the air, "Aren't ya happy to see me?"

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the narrow windows of the school, casting muted, dappled patterns on the walls, but the light felt distant as if the stairwell was a forgotten corner of the college. The soft, muted glow illuminated the dust particles hanging in the air, you had for a moment wondered if you would be able to see lingering dandelions mingling in the air.

Had time stopped?

"You shouldn't have been able to catch me if you were human. Not from there-" You finally managed out with a breath to him, your dark bookbag slumped into the corner of the stairwell before looking up at the bard with a frantic whisper melting into your seeping words, "What are you? Who are you?"

Instead, Venti had smoothly picked up one of the sheets of paper that mingled beneath the edge of his beat-up shoes with a quiet laugh in avoidance of the question or racing mind, "A thank you is usually in order, no? Sometimes even a kiss?" He lightly pinched the bridge of his nose, his words melting with a soft hum, "Never thought an interrogation as a formal way to thank someone."

Your drunken-like breaths had come out in ragged gasps before tightening on the wool fabric of his sweater tightly with the edge of your fingers. "How did you even- What was all of that-" Your bewildered eyes had quickly darted to his relaxed expression in a flicker, searching for a rapid explanation in his softening look towards you, "How did you even know my name-"

He smiled warmly before his bright green- no- now blue eyes flickered with an emerging glow emitting from them. The playful bard had allowed his parted lips to linger on the warmth of your forehead with a small hum, smoothing out some of the remaining stray strands of hair away from your heated face with the edge of his wandering thumb.

The instant the warmth of his lips touched your skin, an overwhelming wave of warmth and comfort washed you. Your bright eyes grew heavy, and, almost involuntarily, they fluttered shut with a soft sigh before slumping into the softness of his sweater, your wispy eyelashes grazing your cheeks at the final blink.

The last thing you saw was the Cecilia pin.

"Y'know," He whispered softly with a stray laugh lingering by your cheek, "Curious humans have always been my favorite,"

[y/n]!"

As you slowly stirred from your slumber with a quiet breath, your blurry vision hazily found yourself adjusting to the familiarity of the warm blankets you had nuzzled the side of your cheek on. Drool had pooled on the side of your chin before wiping it off with the edge of your thumb with a small 'tsk'.

At the heart of the dorm room were two single beds, each neatly made with sheets and comforters reflecting the recent adjustments- Posters, tapestries, or photos adorned the thin walls- Your soft eyes fluttered open to the worried face of your roommate, Amber, her dark brown locks of hair spilling over her straightening shoulders, her golden eyes began widening at your flickering glance towards her kneeling patiently at the edge of your bed.

"Oh thank Barbatos, you're awake," She exclaimed with a light gasp at you small breath, her small fingertips interwoven warmly with your other hand with eyelashes finally fluttering shut. "You had us all worried. You just passed out sitting on the staircase, and we didn't know what happened."

You rubbed the side of your face quietly, your memory gradually returning with a soft sigh encasing your small gasps. Everything that had unfolded on the staircase. You couldn't help but wonder about the Venti- no- whoever he was- who had saved you and then kissed your forehead. It felt like something out of a dream.

Against one wall, two desks sat in a row, cluttered with textbooks, laptops, and notepads, bearing the marks of countless study sessions with bookshelves crammed with textbooks and highlighted notes. Amber had placed her small hand softly on the edge of your blanket, her own lips slightly pursed.

"Where's Venti?" You finally asked, your voice tinged with curiosity and slight raspiness. Your fingertips wandered over the skin of your forehead at the lingering kiss that had crossed it, a warmth spreading across your face before turning quickly glance at Amber.

Amber's expression shifted to one of confusion, her eyebrows quietly raising, "He wasn't there- Kaeya was the one who found you, [y/n], he brought you here."

You tried to explain the situation, recounting the events with the boy who had saved you. But as you spoke, you couldn't shake the feeling that your story was so fantastical, that it might as well have been a dream.

However, the sight on your desk that caught your eye—an exquisite Cecilia flower, its petals a vibrant shade of pale blue, sat in a small vase. You curiously reached out to touch it, your fingers warmly brushing against the delicate bloom.

"Kaeya found this near you," Amber continued carefully, her usually chipper voice softening as she saw the confusion lingering on your face before smoothly adjusting the plush pillow that resided underneath your back with a light laugh. "He had no idea where it could have come from."

You couldn't help but quietly smile, despite the surreal nature of the situation. You knew that Venti was far more than he appeared. He had saved you with a touch of magic, and now, with a single flower that remained blooming on the surface of your desk contently.

Though you couldn't explain the mysteries surrounding the boy, you felt a sense of gratitude and enchantment, he had woven a bit of magic into your world, and you couldn't wait to unravel the secrets he held, one Cecilia petal at a time.

a/n: i was considering making this a series or at least a pt 2 but i dunno hehe! it's kinda sloppy but pls enjoy! reblogs are appreciated! <3

138 notes · View notes

lokisgoodgirl · 2 years

Text

Loki's Thighs [Avenger! Loki x Female Reader] 18+

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki gets a thigh massage by the pool in his tight lil swim-shorts. That's it, that's all. Plot if you squint. (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Light smut. Language. Excessive description of Loki's thighs/legs. Mild vore references. Mild injury references.

The sound of Natasha and Bruce’s playful screams from the pool jostled in the air as you let yourself bath in the warmth of the afternoon sun. A tang of sizzling beef wafted in your direction carried on a light breeze, a can being popped open with a hiss and low conversation punctuated by laughter registered through your bliss. This was heaven. All it was missing was…

“Laufeyson, where you been?” Bruce called from the water.

You raised your head from the lounger and slid your sunglasses down. Loki was best seen without the restraints of a tint to dull his magnificence.

He was dressed impeccably as always, despite spending the past two days undercover in the company of Chicago’s seediest gangsters with his brother. His suit was perfectly fitted as usual, a deep burgundy which creased maddeningly over the lines of his hips as he moved.

Loki yanked the knot of his tie loose aggressively, raven-hair flicking back across his shoulders as he raised the loop over his head before vanishing it into thin air.

He gave a half-hearted wave to the group scattered around the pool, tipping a salute to Clint manning the burgers on the grill as he made straight for the side area where you lay. He looked tired.

A long sigh escaped him as he fell backwards to the padded cushions of the lounger beside you, his suit melting away in a flash of green on his descent, seamlessly revealing his naked skin.

Tight black swim-shorts were suddenly wrapped snug around his deliciously taunt hips as his seidr completed its roll of his body. A pair of dark wayfarers manifested over his eyes as he threw you a cheeky smile, reclining with both hands behind his head.

“Darling?"

You squealed and leapt over to him, straddling him on his lounger and peppering his face with kisses before sliding your tongue gratefully into his mouth. His hands slid up your back and up through your hair, tugging slightly as he flexed his lips ravenously against yours.

“Ow…” he hissed, withdrawing from you sharply. You shuffled on top of him, easing your weight from his lap as he grimaced.

“Sorry my love, I just had a little incident in the field…” he said apologetically before a coy smirk flickered at the corner of his mouth, “Now, where were we?” He leaned forward to kiss you again but your gaze narrowed in response. “What do you mean, 'incident'?”

Loki rolled his eyes. There was no point in fighting it now the cat was out of the bag. “I had an altercation with a vehicular automotive, it’s nothing to concern yourself with.”

“You got hit by a car?” you began to yell, as Loki spread his large hands on your shoulders, dipping his head to look into your eyes in an effort to calm you.

“Not quite, the front just sort of...ran into my legs and bounced off. I’m fine. Just a little sore, pet. Really.” he said calmly, his brows drawing together as you ran your eyes down his naked chest, inspecting him.

“Well we can’t have that, can we? I need you in full working order for tonight.” you winked, before manoeuvring quickly.

You brought yourself to rest on your knees as you edged his legs wider on the sun-lounger. His ankles crossed behind you as those ridiculously long limbs fell open on either side of your body.

You knew his keen eyes were twinkling beneath the Ray-Bans, his amusement betrayed by the smile twitching at the corner of those tantalising lips as he indulged your mortal ministrations.

“Tell me when.” you said firmly, as you squeezed your palms up his long calves in tandem, the sinewy tone of his hard muscle almost inflexible under your touch. Hair caught under your fingertips as you tugged it on your ascent, the wiry covering of his lower legs giving way to the fine counterpart above.

Loki was silent, his chest rising and falling as he enjoyed your attentions quietly. Your hands slid over his bare knees; widening your grip in attempt to envelop the expanse.

“Ow…” Loki grimaced again as your fingers began their ascent of his thighs.

“Does my big, strong god have a boo-boo? Poor baby.” you murmured goadingly as you re-settled against the fold of your calves, enjoying the indignant raise of Loki’s eyebrows above his sunglasses.

Your fingers widened across his pale skin and gently gripped the knees spread on either side of you. Palms slid fluidly up the fronts of his thighs and around his hips to meet the edge of his ass snug against the lounger, fingers pressing lightly against his sculpted form. A low groan escaped him as he flexed upward at the movement, “Harder, pet.”

The god beneath you was flawless, as though carved from marble by Bernini himself. Dark curls rested on his shoulders, his skin glowing gently under the afternoon rays as he returned his hands behind his head to grant you full access. The lines of his hips rose from the tight waistband of his swim-shorts, the fabric re-adjusting perfectly to his form as he made himself comfortable. Thin creases appeared between the toned lines of his abdominals as Loki’s body reluctantly surrendered to the simple pleasure of your healing touch.

His core twitched with relief as you dragged your fingertips firmly down the outside of his thick thighs, fingernails scratching purposefully down the supple skin beneath. A growl of relief dripping with eroticism staggered from his throat as your worked the muscles beneath your grip in methodical circles, taking your time.

He edged down the lounger, widening the basket of his legs around you adjacent to your hips. You moved both of your hands to his left thigh, massaging him firmly as he jolted under the pressure. A hiss seethed from his lips as you struck something particularly sensitive, making your already purring core soar with need. You would never get over the sight of his powerful legs bare in all their glory.

Your love's lithe frame hid the true nature of his strength, the rippling expanse of his body a sight that under most circumstances was reserved for your eyes only. Swimwear, you conceded, was the exception.

“You’re so tight…” you muttered, as your thumb pressed slowly upwards from his knee to his hip flexors. A low chuckle radiated from your lover, punctuated by a grimace as you hit a tight knot. “That’s usually my line, darling.”

He was spread beneath you. The dips and valleys of his thigh muscles bulged as you kneaded against them, marking his skin with faint pink tinges as Loki made small, involuntary thrusts against the work of your hands. They looked so small beside the mighty force of his incredible femurs. Untouchable. Unbreakable.

Memories of the power you felt each time he slammed them into you while taking you from behind, the feeling of the wide expanse of his lap underneath you as you warmed his cock while he read or fucked on the sofas in the Tower library filled your mind. How was it possible that this mortal attempt at comfort could bring him relief? And yet... as you dove your fingertips deep into the godly flesh underneath your touch; Loki’s head dropped back with a primal sigh of pleasure.

You felt the gravitational pull of his hips guide your fingers, your obsession with him drawing you deeper as he moaned quietly beneath you. Sliding your palms as hard as you could up his thighs in unison, you leant forward to plant a kiss on his stomach, raising your eyes to see if he was watching. He was.

“You stopped.” he mumbled disapprovingly in that deliciously velvet tone, his brow furrowed in confusion above his shades.

“Just for a minute. I want to try another technique.” you mumbled as you pressed your lips deeper against the flat, smooth skin of his stomach. God, you could just eat him. Absorb him.

Your hands ran wantonly up the sides of his chest and across his shoulders, sweeping up the chiselled pillars of his biceps which rested parallel to his ears as his interlaced fingers cupped the back of his head. He let out a low chuckle, making no effort to hide his enjoyment of your neediness as you burned with anticipation.

Shuffling your butt in reverse, you slid your palms back the way they came. They pressed against his pectorals as you passed, giving a brief squeeze of appreciation before making your way outwards to cup the underside of his knees. Sitting so brazenly in the open with your indescribably delicious lover lying legs akimbo around your body was a rare thrill. You could see him hardening slightly underneath his sinfully tight swim-shorts. You were impressed that he had managed to hold out this long. He was tired.

Your thumbs began digging in to the pressure points of his knees, the thick muscle finally relenting beneath your touch. “Ohhhhh” Loki groaned, as his head fell back again.

A smile flickered at your lips as you lowered your head to place a deep kiss on the pale skin above the joint. Your trail devoured upwards across his inner thigh, the taste of him making you salivate as you felt desire pooling between your legs, sliding against your bikini bottoms.

You sucked a section of skin into your mouth, massaging it with your tongue before releasing with a languishing kiss and moving on. His thighs were sacred, and you would worship them at every opportunity despite your lover’s protestations. Loki was often too quick to dismiss your need to appreciate him, a tinge of shyness colouring his self-confidence which otherwise radiated like the beating sun on your back. His ridiculously long legs did things to you that you couldn’t explain, driving you feral by simply existing. Those exquisitely toned femurs which seemed to flex tauntingly underneath every single piece of clothing the man owned, teasing your mind with every movement; the creases of hips and expanse of his inviting lap making you dizzy.

You ghosted over his crotch, placing a quick kiss on his semi-hard cock, as you made your way to his other thigh. A low moan of approval rumbled in his throat as your lips crashed again to his skin, massaging the wide expanse below his hipbone with firm, needy kisses. Your digits dug in to the soft flesh behind his knees making him hiss abruptly, thrusting his hips beneath you. You widened your fingers, gripping around the supple skin of his lower thighs and pulling them open further, pushing them downward as your mouth descended his flesh. There would be marks.

Sucking the skin of Loki’s thighs was addictive, it was moreish. The epitome of indulgent vore. The curved landscape of his sculpted legs were a playground of sensation for your insatiable lips and you would never get enough. Never. You felt yourself hazing with need as you bit down gently on the warm expanse beneath you; shaking your head slightly, savouring the delicious pressure of your mouth around his thick muscles as he lovingly smoothed your hair.

“We are in public, you know.” he coyed, a heavy twang of regret seeping through his amused observation.

You sighed, releasing his skin from the vacuum of your lustful attentions and sitting upright. “They’re all the way over there!” you gestured dramatically, “And plus, you’re not even that aroused…”

Loki elevated himself, shuffling backwards to straighten against the lounger headrest. “Firstly, darling…I didn’t imagine it was my arousal they would take issue with. Yours is much more visible." He raised his eyebrows, a smirk flickering as you rolled your eyes.

“Secondly, it is taking all the magic I can currently summon in my reduced state to cover my modesty and it is still not working.” he murmured, leaning towards you, “I can assure you, my love...I am extremely aroused by your talented hands upon my body. Believe me.”

Your eyes fluttered up to meet his gaze, glints of his mischievous stare visible through the tint of his wayfarers.

“Friends!” Thor boomed in greeting from the patio, walking slowly towards the group in the pool as they said something you couldn’t quite hear.

“Oh yes, it was fine...fine. But I did have a rather unexpected altercation with a...what was it called, brother?” he shouted in your direction, as Loki squirmed beneath you.

“Oh! I remember, a ‘pick-up-truck’. Yes. One of those scoundrels tried to run me down in his metal transportation machine. Can you believe that? Hit me square in the legs and then crumpled.” he chortled before looking thoughtfully to the sky and releasing a theatrical sigh, “It made me think of Jane…”

You turned your head slowly towards Loki, wordlessly removing his sunglasses to reveal his sheepish gaze; those beautiful eyes flickering up to you brimming with apologetic amusement.

“What can I say? I missed your attentions.” he said coyly, wrapping a strand of your hair around his finger, “And I know how much you worship my thighs so…”. He shrugged gently, the smile playing on his lips ruining any hope of sincerity.

“Loki, if you ever want my attention...especially when it comes to those damn thighs...you only have to ask.” you murmured, sliding your hands up his thick muscled legs making him groan beneath you once more; your cleavage tantalisingly in his line of vision as your lips ghosted his. “Believe me.”