#THIS ONLY TOOK ME LIKE AN HOUR AND A HALF INSTEAD OF LIKE 3 LOL
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uraberika · 6 months ago
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Someoka S1 vs. Someoka S3
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robinmage · 1 month ago
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im finally fucking done. free me from this prison
total time 203:06
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hxney-lemcn · 3 months ago
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Old Gods — deity! Vil Schoenheit x gn! reader
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summery: a mortal has stumbled upon an abandoned shrine, only to find that the God of beauty and love still resides.
tw: power dynamic? I mean he's literally a God so no matter what I think there's gonna be an unbalanced power dynamic. Otherwise this is just fluff lol. religious themes as well but that was a given.
a/n: inspired from @ceruleancattail and their deity au! I had to do one on Vil because I love him sm <3
wc: 1.1k
Master List
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Vil could do nothing but watch as less and less people trickled into his shrine. When the last few had switched to the newer deity he could feel his anger simmer, growing hotter and hotter with each praise of the beloved Neige. That anger festered over the years as the new deity soaked up the attention. Vil’s shrine had started to crumble, vines taking over the now ancient temple. He had no idea what people saw in Neige. The good for nothing tried too hard, unable to please all his followers yet still they flock to him. Vil had half the mind to get rid of the mockery, but before he could put his plan into play a strange mortal had lost their way.
At least, Vil thought you may have been lost. The path to his shrine had become overrun by vegetation, and besides, who would even remember his shrine’s existence? Everyone was too busy trying to please Neige to pay the older God a second thought. Yet you had looked upon his broken down temple in awe, hands gliding over the ivory pillars that held chips, fingers gently holding a few ivy leaves to inspect. At first, Vil tried not to think too deeply about how he felt his shoulders relax in your presence, or how he watched you with just as much curiosity as you held for his sacred land. He tried not to question why his heart leapt when your eyes landed on his now decrepit statue, how your eyes wandered over the marble that had hoya carnosa’s trailing up his visage. At the very least they were in bloom, the pale pink flowers accentuating his beauty. 
“Beautiful,” You whispered out as you kneeled before his shrine. Shrugging off your bag, Vil watched as you dug through it, eyebrows scrunched as you searched for what you wanted. It was that moment that Vil realized how much he missed this. How much he took for granted his previous followers, growing more snarky and ignoring their wishes. Perhaps his downfall was his own doing…but he could never forgive that cheesy buffoon for taking advantage of his mistakes. Yet you, a mere mortal, nearly had a God on his knees, something he would never admit out loud. 
A bright smile overtook your face as you fished out some flowers along with some incense. After you lit the incense, you clasped your hands and bowed your head. Your wishes had rung through his head, and when you finished, you surprisingly didn’t leave right away. No, instead you spoke.
“I’m not sure if you’re real,” You stated, the sun painting your face perfectly. “But I had read a lot about you and wanted to see your shrine for myself. It's a shame this temple is left alone, it's absolutely breathtaking. If you are real, thank you for listening to my troubles, I’m sorry to bother you. I don’t have anywhere else, and Lord Neige has no time for a commoner like me.”
As you stood up, Vil felt his heart plummet. He didn’t want you to leave just yet, please stay. Yet he kept himself hidden, not wanting to scare you off. As you left, you felt just a bit better, at least you got your problems off your chest, and you had found your own sanctuary to hide out in. 
Vil thought that would be the last he saw off you, but he appreciated the incense and flowers nonetheless. Yet the incense burnt out after a few hours, and the flowers started to wilt after a few days. Still, you had managed to surprise the deity as you came back, a new batch of flowers in your hands. So in turn, he had decided to bless you, his silly little mortal. As you rested the flowers before his statue and kneeled, he decided to reveal himself. When you opened your eyes, you were startled when you saw the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He seemed familiar at first, and when your gaze rose to the statue that's when it clicked. It was none other than Vil, God of beauty, love. 
He couldn’t help but smirk at your awe, relishing in your newfound devotion. “Hello dear,” Vil greeted, lilac eyes watching your every expression with pride. “What do you wish to share with me today?”
Opening and closing your mouth, you had no idea what to say. A God stood before you, what was the proper protocol? You shouldn’t be staring at him should you? What if you said something that would cause him to smite you and your entire lineage? Your cheeks felt warm when he smiled down at you, and you held your breath as he drew closer, sitting on the altar that you currently kneeled before.
“No need to be scared,” He hummed, his voice soothing you in ways you didn’t know could be soothed. “You are the first mortal to step foot in my temple, let alone leave offerings at my altar in a century. The least I could do is lend an ear, no?”
“You’re so pretty,” You mumbled without realizing it. You seemed to snap out of it when Vil let out a small chuckle, greatly amused at your praise. Yet it also affected him more than he’d like to think about.
“Of course,” Vil smiled, something he hasn’t done in so long that it felt strange. “I wouldn’t be the God of beauty if I didn’t look the part.”
“R-right,” You stumbled, looking anywhere but him. Oh what a sight for sore eyes. “I-I can’t believe you’re real…” Vil only watched on as your brain struggled to believe the current scenario, and he took the time to admire you. In your prayers, wishes of looking beautiful and wishes to be loved had rung clear, yet Vil failed to understand why. You were nowhere near as beautiful as him, and you could use some touch ups, but for a mortal you were quite stunning.
After that day you had started to visit regularly. Now that you knew a lonely God was awaiting you, how could you keep him waiting? Every time he’d give you a lotion, serum, accessories, clothing…it seemed the more you visited the more extravagant the gifts became. When you wore something he gifted you he’d shower you with praise, if you kept up with your skin care routine he’d gently run his fingers over your skin, sharp eyes shining with affection. You turned from becoming his pet project to becoming something more, and you had never felt more loved than when your God treated you as something more than just a mere mortal, but someone who was not only worthy of his attention, but longed for yours.
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peppertoastuniverse · 2 months ago
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more than a late night snack – gojo satoru chapter 5: mandarin
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contents: gojo Satoru x reader, FLUFF , satoru being a little shit, 2 idiots summary: when you consistently ignore gojo’s frequent texts to hang out, he takes matters into his own hands wc: 3.2k
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“whoa, didn’t expect you to fall for me like this,” he says, feeling his laughter through his chest, breathing life into the dark corners of your cavity. it was too much. he was always too much. regaining your senses, you squawk out of embarrassment, concrete realization of where you were in the form of his thumb moving back and forth on your side, a half hearted attempt to soothe you. self consciousness fuelling your uncoordinated limbs you scramble to separate yourself from him.
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previous chapter ll master list ll next chapter
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ding. ding.  it only took two impatient sounds to disturb your peace. slightly groaning as you hear the echoing source of your current pain: your phone. ever since gojo got a hold of your number it like was like his grating voice was constantly in your head. he constantly texted you, blowing up your phone about anything and everything. from what he swore was the best daifuku in Tokyo he discovered last week, or complaining about how unfair it was that ieri kicked him out of her room again or sending you photos of him post mission, peace signs prominent with a cheery grin while geto was in the background back turned, hunched over presumably throwing up from a particular nasty curse he had to ingest - gojo never failed to message you.
for the most part you didn’t respond to gojo’s constant messages, but that didn’t deter him, if anything it prompted him to text you even more. in your eyes, it was only a matter of time before he would get tired of you - you were just waiting for him to realise what you knew was going to happen. it was a reason why you kept your walls so high, you enjoyed the safety and predictability of the darkness and satoru gojo was too bright.
turning back to your desk you pick up your discarded pen, twirling it in your hands absentmindedly. how long have you been at this?  probably 3 hours at least. you quickly skim through his messages while you regather your papers together.
gojo: hehe look at this (2:13pm) [image] (2:13pm)
you open the attachment begrudgingly, the unopened image taunting you, peaking your curiosity. it was a blurry photo of an annoyed geto, mouth open probably cussing gojo out, violet eyes flashing in warning looking beyond the camera with his arms attempting to grab the phone from him. his dark bangs frame his face as usual but the rest of his dark hair was pulled into two high messy pigtails. snorting in amusement, you download the image - ah a new treasure. sometimes gojo could be useful. you return to the message thread, seeing a flow of multiple messages.
gojo: bbbbbb <3 (4:03pm) im booooored booooooooooored lets hangggg (6:04pm) lets do something rn (6:10pm) omg when r u gna stop ignoring me lol (6:20pm) (◞‸◟;) stoppp (6:21pm) how come u never answer me "( – ⌓ – ) (6:22pm) not cool b (6:25pm)
you easily silence your phone before hastily typing in a message to appease him.
you: busy (6:40pm)
gojo: (ᴗ_ ᴗ。) busy??? the whole day?! (6:40pm) busy with what (6:41pm) with whaaaat bbb ( 。 •̀ ᴖ •́ 。) (6:43pm)
you don’t bother answering him, instead choosing to ignore him for what seemed to be the millionth time . you really had to get this done – not that you wanted to hang out with gojo anyway. discarding your phone on your bedside table, you groan when you make your return to your desk. this was the worst part about being a sorcerer : the paperwork. you’ve put off the reports for the last 4 missions that you went on, plus you had to do the rest of your homework. you palm your temple with a sigh of anticipation in what surely was going to be a long night.
and then you hear it; a whine of your name beyond your door paired knocking on your door to an uneven rhythm. ughh. you could just imagine the overly dramatic pout on his face.
as to appease the assault that your door was taking, you opened the opposing barrier with a scowl on your face.
“how come you don’t answer my messages?” gojo immediately whines the minute he sees you.
“I told you, I’m busy!”
“but we’re friends! you answer suguru and shoko!”
“yeah because they don’t message me every 2 seconds – my phone is usually on silent anyway, so I forget to check.”
“ughhh… sooooo, can we hang out now?” he gripes, lowering his dark glasses, showing the crocodile tears dancing on his waterline.
“...i have all this paperwork to do, gojo.” you say opening your door wider, gesturing to your messy desk.
he sighs exasperate throwing his hands in the air. “…fine.” pout on full view he turns his firm back, not sparing you a second glance retreating into his room next to yours.
huh. that was easy. part of you felt validated in his easy retreat, it was something that you were used to, something expected – even from the strongest.
you settle back in to your desk, cursing your past self for putting this off for so long.
okay, okay, where were you? concentrate. ughhhh … what happened in nagasaki again? oh right it was that stupid scissor curse that cut you up pretty badly – not your best moment. geto really saved your ass back there with rainbow dragon. he ended up swallowing the curse later and annoyingly scolded you. but he also complained -
“babe!! i'm hooooomeeee!” the door handle rustles before abruptly opening, a mop of tousled white hair, barges into your room with no warning. your wide eyes narrow at the annoyance. waltzing in with a pep in his step, obnoxiously swinging a plastic bag filled to the brim of multiple cakes, sweets and sugary drinks was gojo with an aggravating smirk. you stare at him, hoping your heated glance would melt his grinning face off.
“don't give me that face, grumpy! i got ya some concentration snackies - aren't you glad i thought of you, huh? im such a good friend.” poking your shoulder in greeting ignoring your exasperated pout.
“no one appreciates me here! i'm more than just a pretty face, y'know.” gojo responds to your silence with a dramatic sigh. he settles the bulging bag on the floor he tosses his too long body onto your bed, jostling the soft pillows. you tsk in disapproval.
cooing as he spots Bun Bun peacefully resting on the middle of your bed, you watch as gojo's long limbs dramatically flail to pick up the pink bunny stuffie. “hey, lil’ guy,” he whispers, his slender nose nuzzling Bun Bun's plush cheeks, “i know, I know, babe’s not being fun again. yeah i know, i told her don't worry.” turning his head to meet your incredulous glare. your eye begins to twitch in annoyance, "that's not what he's saying!"
“uh huh, you're just jealous of our bond." he scrunches up his nose at you, " y’knowww you’re gonna get wrinkles early if you keep frowning so much!” gojo practically sings from your bed, infinity easily going up as you launch an eraser at him angrily. he snickers before settling on his side, moving Bun Bun lovingly to share the same pillow as him.
ignoring gojo was no easy feat, but luckily you were very experienced in that field. returning to your work on your desk, you bite your tongue with the urge to cuss him out. you wheel your chair around to fully ignore his distracting presence.
he always took up too much space, his very energy making it hard to focus.
resting your head on your palm, you prop your head up attempting get back into the zone of concentration.
alright, nagasaki. you smirk as you remember how geto complained how terrible it tasted and how amazing that ramen was that you and geto had after. he was worried about your shallow wounds despite your constant reassurance that you were fine, ugh suguru was way too considerate. you pretty much had to beg him to go get some food, you remember how you grinned self righteously as you watched his hesitation disappear the minute he tasted the broth. you had a suspicion it was partly because the curse tasted so bad. but that didn't stop geto from carrying you back on rainbow dragon despite your fear of heights. you wince as you remember ieri smacking you and geto when you got back because she was so pissed when you didn't return straight away with all of those cuts – 
“whatcha doing?” you feel gojo's warm breath in your ear, the action making you shudder at the intrusion.
abruptly you turn your head to see gojo’s face right next to yours over your shoulder, nose daring to brushing his smooth cheek.
yelping loudly, you jerk to the side causing you to fall off your chair in a fright. you hear gojo’s amused snort as you close your eyes waiting to hit the ground but … it never came.
warm arms lightly grip your abdomen preventing you from hitting the ground, you feel gojo’s firm chest behind your back as you sit clumsily in his lap, legs swung over to his left side. his skin was warm and soft, invading your senses with his familiar scent. the weight of his body against yours felt foreignly comforting. engulfing your already panicked state in a new level of unease, you weren't completely sure if you enjoyed his warmth or resented him for making you question it. you unconsciously settle your hand on his forearm against your stomach finding an overwhelming needing to ground yourself. you hoped that he couldn’t feel your loudly beating heart through your chest, or that his six eyes couldn't see the deeply buried holes in your heart. “whoa, didn’t expect you to fall for me like this,” he says, feeling his laughter through his chest, breathing life into the dark corners of your cavity.
it was too much. he was always too much.
regaining your senses, you squawk out of embarrassment, concrete realization of where you were in the form of his thumb moving back and forth on your side, a half hearted attempt to soothe you. self consciousness fuelling your uncoordinated limbs you scramble to separate yourself from him.
“ompff – uhh – careful where you're – ompff –  stepping, babe!” he stutters quickly, worry and slight panic tinging his voice. his body attempting to shift with your fussing to neutralize your erratic momovements, “look, I don’t give a fuck – oh geez – but the clan still wants an heir so – please be careful“ a large hand goes to still your shin.  
an heir? does he mean – oh. OH. in a panic you finally manage to slide down onto to the floor legs still draped over his thighs.
“d-don’t you have anything better to do?!” you deflect refusing to look him. crossing your arms across your chest, trying to distract yourself form thinking about gojo in that way.
gojo’s eyes widen. whoa, what's with that expression? this was ... new. he couldn’t help but notice how your face flushed, the heat gradually spreading to the tips of your ears, down your the column of your pretty throat...
“you would know if you checked your messages!” he huffs ignoring the way his ears turn pink, “we’re gonna hang out when you're done.”
when did you agree to this? ­­
"who decided that?" you said fighting the blush you knew decorated your face, face full of defiance.
he whines your name, “c'mon!!”
“ugh, I still have to do the stupid paperwork! i’ve put it off too long.” you groan flopping on the ground, using your hands to rub your eyes. truth be told, gojo being in your room felt almost suffocating. the air felt too stifling, like you were backed into a corner forced to always playing defence with the strongest. and you didn't want to play his stupid games.
breathing softly you watch as the growing shadows on the your ceiling frame your nagging restlessness to get work done.  gojo’s face popping into your view.
“why don’t you take a break? you’ve been working hard for hours – let’s have some snacks!” he adds, attempting to sweeten the deal. you shrug noncommittally, you just wanted to be free of that stupid paperwork. you hear the rustling of a plastic bag, as he digs through his haul, mumbling to himself, "not this.. ugh not this one either, hmm, that's definitely mine .. oh fuck i forgot i bought this heh.. where is it? i just..."
“m’ not in the mood for sweets, go–“
“i got you – I knew you’d want something boring!” you hear him rustling deeper into the plastic bag. you smell a burst of citrus. his grin comes into view again while he roughly shoves a few segments of a mandarin into your mouth, forcing the rest of the peeled fruit into your hand.
“mph! dude– “ you quickly chew the segment in surprise, mouth bursting with the refreshing juice, the orange’s soft flesh tangy and slightly sweet. “… huh. thanks.”
gojo hums victoriously, falling on his back beside you, legs bent, foot tapping out a rhythm.
you split your remaining mandarin in half, feeling for the larger portion and passing it in gojo’s surprised hands. slender fingers briefly mingling with each other, electricity brewing between them. you retreat your hands quickly, purposely ignoring his lingering fingers.
if he notices, gojo makes no mention of it, popping the whole mandarin in his mouth.
“so, why was suguru’s hair in pigtails?” you ask, amused smile growing on your face from the memory of geto’s disturbed expression. chewing on another segment, you could easily imagine geto's loud grumble and exasperation that you frequently heard when gojo was around him.
gojo barks out a laugh, half chewed mandarin still in his mouth. “idiot fell asleep in the common room and y’know… anything is fair game there,” he says shifting slightly to look at you.
“oh god. pff, yeah honestly he had it coming. poor suguru though, he’s been so busy lately, must've been exhausted… i’m surprised he didn’t murder you.”
“oh he tried, he summoned 3 curses,” gojo snickers, pushing his dark glasses up.
“… next time we should do space buns,” you grin mischievously.
“oh fuck that’s a great idea!” he shouts, repeatedly tapping the ground in excitement, matching grin on his face. gojo was practically vibrating with mischief, inching closer to you on the ground.
you couldn't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. often times gojo reminded you of an overly excitable puppy, constantly wagging his tail, begging for attention. usually you'd get the puppy who would become your shadow, whining constantly for a walk and would harness their chaotic energy to trash a room just because. there's a reason why you were a cat person.
“but oh my goddd, have you touched his hair, babe? it’s so fucking soft? i don’t understand what he does but -" you watched gojo talk animatedly. his mouth dressed up in a boyish gin, pearly teeth on full display, emphasizing the dimple on his left side, embellishing the joy he was radiating. it was times like these where you were strangely more aware that satoru gojo was handsome. the soft slope of his cupid’s bow that lead to delicate lips, the slant of his slender nose, his soft cheeks -
you shake your head. god, he was so distracting. he was so annoying.
“ - hey? did ya hear me?” gojo asks, poking your cheek. you share back at him blindly, hoping he didn’t catch you staring. "huh?" stretching slightly you shift on to your side, curling your knees together so they almost touch his thighs. "what were you saying?"
“I said, I got you something!” not even bothering to hid his annoyed glare. he props himself up with his hand supporting his head, turning fully to you, mirroring your body. reaching into his back pocket, he takes out a silver phone charm. delicate and elegant, the neat row of varying silver and black beads strung on a intricate chain complimented the silver star at the end.
you blink at him. “wait- for me?” your eyes dart between the phone charm and his expectant smile.
“duh! it’s for your phone! so whenever you see it, it’ll remind you to answer my messages.” he jingles the keychain, waiting for you to take it.
you stare at him, a hidden expression on your face that he couldn’t decipher.
“man, I gotta do everything here, eh?” gojo pouts, rolling his eyes. he gracefully rolls over to reach for your phone on your bed side table with a sigh. plopping back down on his side, he loops the charm on to your phone grinning triumphantly.
“hehe, look, babe – now we have matching ones!!” he takes out his own phone to show you the same silver keychain on his phone. gojo hands you your phone back, immediately you admire the way the way the keychain captures the dim light of your bedside table. pretty. although gojo’s antics were dramatic and sometimes downright irritating, his constant effort to get to know you despite your adamant refusal was … endearing. you noticed that he was generous, not only constantly buying you, ieri and geto snacks or meals without prompting but generous in his time, annoyingly checking up on you when he didn't see you for a few hours. you had to admit that he did put up a good fight to your frank rebuffs. he noticed a lot more than you gave him credit for, he cared for his friends in his own way but fierce so. despite his arrogant and brash behaviour maybe, just maybe, he could be someone you could talk to once in a while, someone you could let in just a little bit. it wouldnt hurt to be on friendlier terms, right?
“… thanks gojo.” you say smiling in realization as you fiddle with the star of the keychain, unable to look at him.
something in gojo’s stomach flutters, not expecting your bashful demeanour. if you smiled at him like that, he think might collapse. he wasn’t even really sure what he did that granted him the privilege to see your smile, a genuine one - it was just a little trinket, an inexpensive thing he picked up because he was tired of radio silence from you. he smiled thinking about your reaction of something else, perhaps if he got you those specific chips that he noticed that you liked that were notorious for being be sold out at the convenience store or maybe a scarf since you always seemed to be cold or, or maybe even a necklace with his initials -
“… hey? gojo?" you ask softly.
"yes, my grumpy lil prince–" "shut up, before i take back what i'm going to say, idiot." you scoff, your dead pan glare, effectively doing the impossible in shutting up gojo. you sigh. god, were you going to regret this decision? "... if you give me like 2 hours in silence.." you palm your forehead, wondering if you've gone absolutely insane.
".... maybe we could watch a movie or something after?” you force out softly.
gojo smiles widely, almost bouncing up and down as he gets up from the floor, offering you a hand to help you up. you stare at his out stretched hand suspiciously.
“well, the sooner you get started the sooner we can watch!!”
hesitantly you accept his hand and his help. it was a strange feeling, one that you weren’t sure yet that you liked yet. you quickly sever the contact, dropping his hand immediately, not wanting to get used to this new sensation. you huff , moving towards your desk, reshuffling the papers with renewed energy.
turning around to face him, voice authoritative with warning, you meet his covered eyes “when I mean silence though gojo, I mean absolute silence.” he nods, looking back at you, he uses his slender pointer finger and thumb to zip his mouth, and toss away the key behind him, a promise in his bright eyes behind his dark glasses.
gojo resettles on your bed, with a triumphant sigh. he makes a point to grab Bun Bun to lay on his chest as he takes out his phone to play some games, his silver phone charm dancing in the light. you turn around, hands itching to finally get some work done, concentrating on summarizing the straight forward mission in hamura. an unusual silence aids the scratching of your pen on paper, propelling your rapid thoughts. but after 20 minutes of working, you hesitantly clear your throat, turning back to take a peek at gojo, his eyebrow quirked.
“… so, uh what movies are playing right now?”
you can hear the joy in his voice when he starts to weigh your options, even asking Bun Bun for his opinions and occasionally spoiling the plots for other options. With a soft grin, you found that this time you didn’t mind the chatter... or the company.
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a/n: he just wants to spend time with you ( 。 •̀ ᴖ •́ 。) --
head image credit: Itadakimasu dividers from: @/adornedwithlight
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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 6 months ago
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Could you write a story with 90’s slash where he’s drunk and is being all lovey and touchy in front of the rest of the band? And the band is surprised seeing him like that? With like fluff but also smut?
A/n: There isn't a whole lot of fluff but it is there in parts, I'm sorry I really suck at writing fluff lol but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3
Warnings: Smut, Slash is drunk, oral(f receiving), fingering(f receiving), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!
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You’d dropped by the studio with lunch, a regular routine you’d fallen into. It’s become so regular that the guys started chipping in and making requests, multiple stops at a time even. You didn’t mind if it meant getting out of the house and getting to spend time with your boyfriend, Slash.
This time, however, you walked in on a very different scene.
Slash was sitting in a chair, his guitar on the ground beside him and he couldn’t reach it. Instead of standing up to get it he just kept lazily reaching for it over and over again.
He had a bottle of Jack Daniels in his other hand, half empty and it was still cold. There were a few empty bottles on the floor around him.
Duff came over and took the bags of food from you. “He was like this when he got here.” He said, his voice quiet so Slash didn’t hear, not that it would really register with him.
You let out a heavy sigh and nodded. “Figured.” You chewed your cheek and went over to Slash, taking a seat on the armrest of the barcalounger he was on. You pulled his hair out of his face to get his attention. “Hey baby, what are you doing?” He looked over at you and it took a minute for him to register who you were but when he did the biggest smile came to his face.
“You’re here!” He gleamed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap. “Missed you so much!” He said as he littered kisses all over your face, you couldn’t help but giggle, even though his breath reeked of alcohol.
“It’s only been a few hours?” You said, looking up at him with a raised brow.
“Oh, shut up, that’s too long!” He whined, a pout tugging at his lips. Slash always had been super pouty. You threw an arm around his neck and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
“The fuck is this?” Axl’s voice boomed, though he didn’t seem mad. You glanced around and noticed that all eyes were suddenly on you two.
“What do you mean?” It’s not like they didn’t know you two were in a relationship and it’s definitely not the first time you’ve been affectionate with Slash.
“Slash has feelings!” Steven exclaimed, a wide smile on his face.
“We’ve never seen him so...” Duff trailed. “Cuddly?” You shrugged and relaxed back into Slash who stared at you with nothing but fondness in his dazed eyes.
“Why don’t you stick around?” Axl asked. “Keep him in check so we can actually get work done.” You agreed and everyone got back to work.
Except for Slash.
He refused to let go of you for even a second, which made it much harder to play guitar. He zoned out and wouldn’t speak at all. All he did was nuzzle into you, kiss you and run his hands over you, crossing over more and more sensitive spots.
Slash drunk wasn’t your favourite, but him being so openly affectionate was sweet to you. You told yourself it was because he wanted to do it when he was sober but just didn’t have the courage to. It made sense since the main cause of his drinking and drugging was because he was introverted and it made it easier for him to exist with humans.
What started as innocent touches quickly turned sexual as he kept trying to get his hands under your waistband, constantly pulling and tugging at your clothes, kissing your neck and shamelessly grinding his crotch on your ass.
You tried to get him to stop but he wouldn’t, saying he just loved you so much and how he needed this, needed you. The band around you guys kept laughing at it which only spurred Slash on.
It crossed a line when you looked away and Slash lifted your top, revealing your chest on the one day you didn’t feel like putting on a bra.
You pulled your shirt back down and got off of him. “The fuck is wrong with you?” You scolded, glaring down at him. He looked right back up at you with nothing but desire. But he seemed confused, like he didn’t know what he did wrong.
Slash stood and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I just wanna love you.” He mumbled, words slurring together.
“Come on,” Axl teased, “just let him love you.” The rest of them were all giggling as well. You rolled your eyes and stormed off, angrily dragging Slash behind you, ignoring how he stumbled on his own feet to keep up with you.
Outside their studio space was a long hallway leading into many more hallways and a few more studios but among them were janitorial closets and other small rooms for little things scattered between. Perfect for you to push Slash into.
You locked the door behind you with the intent to scold him but he was already on his knees and tugging on your waistband again. “Slash, are you kidding me?”
“No.” He answered in a cheeky tone, big smile and giggling as he pulled your pants down. You should’ve stopped him but you didn’t want to. His touches bothered you in front of everyone but you couldn’t say no when he could make you feel so good.
Slash pulled your panties down and licked between your folds, licking up your slick before focusing on your clit. He couldn’t stop giggling which only sent vibrations straight through you. Your hands buried in his curls as your hips bucked to meet his lips, bordering riding his face. He didn’t even seem to notice, getting off on giving you pleasure.
You caught him palming himself through his leather pants so you kicked his hand away. “Only good boys get to cum.” You said, voice breathy as you continued to push his face into you. His hands gripped your thighs, needing to occupy them somehow so he wouldn’t touch himself he pushed one finger into you before adding another.
The small closet quickly filled with your moans and Slash’s muffled giggling along with lewd noises. You were sure that if anyone passed by they would hear but right now you didn’t care as your first high crashed down on you and you held Slash’s lips to your clit as you gushed on his face.
You pulled away and Slash’s body relaxed. He’d been holding himself up on his knees but he let himself hit the ground, now looking up at you like a proud puppy.
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hugmekenobi · 25 days ago
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Something New
A Bad Batch Post S3 Oneshot
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Gif by @barissoffee
Hunter x femaleJedi!reader
Summary: You have a surprise that'll help you and Hunter take a break from the stress of planning your wedding
Warnings: No use of (Y/N), references to past poisoning, little bit of teasing, some self-doubt/self-consciousness, light swearing, Smut (lingerie wearing, kissing, marking/biting, non-explicit descriptions of slightly rougher sex with unprotected P in V, kissing, reader can be lifted), we have some light fluff and feelings too
<Previous Oneshot (not totally necessary to read but helpful for build up)
Masterlist for S1,S2 and S3
Word Count: 2K
Rating: 18+
Author's note: We're back! Sorry it's been so long!! I have no excuse for this. It was just a little thing that my Hunter addled brain felt the need to include before the wedding oneshot and @decembermidnight very nicely encouraged me to do this so it happened. No pressure to read! Just needed to get it out my system before the next one lol
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“Remind me again why I just spent 2 and a half hours listening to all the bands Pabu has to offer and you weren’t there?” Hunter called out tiredly but merrily enough by way of announcing his arrival back home. He loved the people here but some of them were not as talented as they thought they were, and his ears were not thanking him for his patient listening.
“Because we agreed that me reading all the wedding tradition research Tech and Omega keep sending me as well as spending a minimum of 3 hours a day getting poked and prodded by Lyra was equal to you handling the music, food and flowers.” You replied as you peeked your head round the refresher door.
“Hey, I read it too!” Hunter protested. He liked being involved in the process. It was new territory for both of you
“You read the summarised versions I put together, it’s the same as me helping you pick whatever band or flowers you’ve narrowed it down to.” You reminded him with a grin. “All about the teamwork, Sergeant.”
“Uh huh.” Hunter said with a fond roll of his eyes before he changed the subject. “Is there a reason you’re standing in there?” He asked as he casually passed by en-route to the bedroom.
“Don’t come in!” You yelped as you dashed behind the door.
“Why not?” Hunter asked but he obeyed your request and instead carried on to the bedroom.
“I have a surprise for you but now I’m chickening out.”
“Haven’t we had enough of those recently?” Hunter responded nervously. The horrible emotions and memories of your poisoning still lingered in his mind.
“This is a good surprise…” I hope. You added mentally as you stared at your reflection and worked on bringing back the confidence you’d felt ten minutes ago. “But I need you to promise me that you won’t laugh.” You requested, your voice loud enough so he could hear you.
“Why would I laugh?” He asked back, voice equally loud.
“I’m trying something new. We have been through a lot and I’m obviously not just talking about wedding planning stress, and I can only imagine the range of talent you heard today. So, I figured we need to unwind, wipe the slate clean. Hence, this surprise. But again, you cannot laugh, or I swear I’m walking outta here and all this wedding stuff comes to an end. You can marry Shep for all I care.” You threatened, obviously not meaning it but you needed him to understand that this was far out your comfort zone.
Hunter ignored your melodramatics, “What’s wrong with Shep?”
“Hunter!” You cried out through an exasperated laugh. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“I understand but I do think a surprise is ruined by an explanation.” He quipped back as he took off his light layer, draped it over the dresser chair, and rolled up his sleeves as he waited for whatever it is you were talking about.
“When you’re done being a smartass, will you just promise me that you’re not going to laugh?”
“Yes, of course I promise but would you just get out here? You’re not making any se-” You appeared and suddenly he forgot how to speak. He couldn’t form the words. He couldn’t process the gorgeous image in front of him, so he was left just standing there, gawping in pure awe.
You shifted awkwardly under his intense stare and brought your arms to cover yourself self-consciously. “I can take it off if-”
“Don’t you dare.” His voice was hoarse with longing. The dark red lace lingerie set that left little to the imagination suited you and your body perfectly, emphasising ever part of you in a way that drove him crazy with need. The fact that the colour matched that of his bandana did not escape him either.
You glanced up and that was when you sensed the want flowing through him. It was reflected carnally in his eyes. You lowered your arms to your sides. “You like it then?”
All the words he wanted to say required more articulation than what his brain was currently allowing him to do so all Hunter could manage to do was nod dumbly. His hands were clenching and unclenching by his sides as he fought with himself to stay in control of his faculties. He was waiting to see how you wanted to play this.
You’d talked yourself out of doing this countless time up until this point and even tonight that feeling had still lingered but now, hearing and feeling the impact this was having on him, you began to believe it again. The growing confidence allowed you to move forward and dictate what you wanted here. Your simmering arousal grew more as you stepped towards him. “Want to show me how much?” You whispered as you placed a teasing and seductive kiss to his neck and trailed your hand down his chest, undoing a few of his shirt buttons as you did so. You could feel his heart pounding beneath your palm, and you mouthed along the tan skin that was now available to you, smiling as you heard his breaths grow more rapid and uneven. You brought your eyes back to his and waited expectantly.
Hunter didn’t need to be told twice. He dropped to his knees and placed slow, open-mouthed kisses up the inside of your thighs, sucking marks into your skin as he moved closer to where you were absorbing the softness of the material, teeth grazing the edges of the fabric.
“Hunter?” You murmured with a sensual sigh as you brought your head back from where it had fallen towards your shoulder blades and peered down at him. You caressed the side of his face with your left hand, your engagement ring proudly standing out as you moved your fingers with a tenderness that didn’t quite match the intentions you had tonight.
Hunter kissed your palm and relished in the feeling of the cool metal band against your skin as he stared up at you. He was enraptured by the sight of you and completely at your mercy.
You moved your hand to rake your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly at the ends and you smirked at the low groan he ground out at that, before you uttered a simple command without so much as opening your mouth. Fuck me.
The change in him was instantaneous. With a breath that sounded akin to a growl, he got to his feet and kissed you with an intensity to match what you were asking of him before he backed you into the wall. He didn’t miss a beat as he carried on kissing you and picked you up by the back of your thighs.
You matched the passionate strokes of his mouth with yours as you wrapped your legs around him and tangled your fingers in his shirt with a moan you felt him tight against you.  
Hunter didn’t know where to start. He wanted to worship you in the way you deserved to be but the need he had for you was overpowering and he couldn’t stop touching your lace covered skin as he kissed you with utter desperation and need.
You knew what he was holding back for but this time, you didn’t want it gentle.
You wanted it rough.
You wanted to feel him.
Your body was yearning for him, and you couldn’t wait.
You snaked your hands down between you to reach for the waistband of his trousers. I need you. I need you now, Hunter. You said as you had to pull away to draw a much inconvenient but needed breath.
That was all he needed for his lingering doubt and restraint to officially vanish. Hunter didn’t bother removing the flimsy piece of fabric, nor did he particularly want to. So, he merely moved your underwear to the side without breaking the kiss. A low, eager groan rumbled from his chest as he moved into you.
Any pain quickly morphed into pleasure, and you welcomed the sensation of feeling him in this way as he moved against you. Harder. You instructed as you kissed him and took his lip between your teeth in encouragement.
Hunter was only too happy to obey. He relished the loud, breathy groan that emitted from you as he gave you what you wanted and the way your grip on his shoulders tightened, only heightened his own desire for you.
The two of you were to wound up for this to last as long as you usually did, and you could tell by the way his movements started to stutter that he was reaching that point of ecstasy that you were careening towards too.
Hunter could feel you tightening around him, and his words left him in a frantic and breathless manner, “I’m not going to- I can’t- you need to- fuck, you feel so good.” He couldn’t even finish his train of thought. He was that caught up in the feel of you and knew he wasn’t going to last for much longer, but he refused to let you go unsatisfied.
You knew what he was requesting and brought your own hand down between you and a cry left your lips as you went tumbling towards your climax.
Hunter swallowed the precious sound from you and pressed his mouth to yours in a final, hard and fervid kiss as he allowed himself to go with you. You both fell apart together with a shared groan and for a moment, all that could be heard was the sound of the two of you working on getting your breath back.
Hunter pressed his forehead against yours. “Did I ever actually tell you how stunning you look in this?” He asked as he got his bearings back.
“I think the focus lied elsewhere.” You kidded through a tired laugh. “But I got the message without it.”
“Well, you do. I mean you always do but this, yeah, this was a nice surprise.” He said gratefully. He kissed the hollow of your throat. “I love you. You took my breath away and you look absolutely beautiful.”
“Thank you.” You uttered quietly as you stroked through the ends of his hair. “I love you too.”
“Is this what you had in mind before Skara Nal?” He asked, his voice far raspier than it typically was as he lowered you down but continued to toy with you and the fabric.
His shirt was half-buttoned and wrinkled, his bandana askew and he was panting heavily. And you knew you were in just as equal a dishevelled state. “Might’ve been.” You said coyly as you ran your fingers through the shorter hairs of his fringe. “Lyra thought it was pretty important to re-create.”
“Remind me to thank her.” Hunter mumbled against your neck.
“And I have two more.” You said through a gratified and happy sigh as you cradled the back of his head as he lightly and dotingly kissed across your collarbone. “Next time I’ll wear one of the different colours.” You promised.
Hunter rested his forehead on your chest with a low moan. “I don’t know how you expect me to focus on wedding planning when I know this is something that I’ll be returning too. We’re going to have the most bizarre mix of wedding accompaniments cause I’ll just be looking for the quickest way out.”
You chuckled softly and on slightly shaky legs, you made to step past him to freshen up but Hunter’s hand around yours stopped you in your tracks.
“Hold on, what makes you think I’m done with this one?” Hunter said, his eyes gleaming with both mischief and desire.
“Aren’t you?” You replied with a smirk, but your heart was already racing in anticipation once more.
“There were a lot of really terrible bands.” He said by way of answer before he led you towards the bed.
Next Oneshot (to be posted)>
Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @andreaaxy, @moonychicky, @notgonnaedit, @arctrooper69, @dizzy-9906 , @nightmonkeysstuff @allthingsimagines , @thegreymarveljedi , @jellybeanstacey0519 , @callsign-denmark , @superbookishhufflepuff , @qvnthesia , @justsomerandompersonintheworld , @ooostarwarsfandom501st
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niphredil-14 · 6 months ago
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Imagine 2012 Donnie with a partner who just doesn’t get math at all, not even science and it’s just him tutoring them and sleeping over at their place
I was gonna write a study date for this, but then I got my results for the HiSET math test and found out that I am, in fact, getting my high school equivalency, so I'm gonna write Don celebrating that instead. Hope you don't mind lol
Test Kisses
Words: 850
The first four tests had been a breeze, As and high Bs across the board. But then, there was math, and in the fortnight leading up to the test, Don had gone over to her house almost every night, the two of them pulling all-nighters every other, until the night before the test. Don had indeed gone over that night, but insisted that studies had shown that cramming the night before a big test would actually be detrimental. He had only allowed her to read through her notes for half an hour before helping her through her bedtime routine, and cuddling up next to her, until she fell asleep. Upon awakening, the sun was shining through the fluttering blinds of her open window, and she found a note written in Donnie's messy handwriting on her bedside table.
Sorry I couldn't stay, but you know I can't risk being seen, and Leo would've nagged my shell off. I wish you lots of luck on your test today, though I know you won't need it. You've worked so hard, and have been tutored by the smartest turtle around, so I know that you can do this!! You're a whole lot smarter than you give yourself credit for! ^w^
Love, Donatello <3
Actually taking the test was super stressful, and she finished with only two minutes remaining. It had taken forever for the test results to come. All of the other test results had been posted exactly a week after she took the test, but this was not the case for math. She had to call the testing company three times over the course of a week before the finally opened an investigation, and throughout the whole process, she had whined and complained endlessly to Donnie. After what felt like an eternity, she was finally notified that the results were posted. She didn't hesitate to grab her laptop and sprint out of her apartment, racing to the nearest sewer cap. Don had installed a special button in the alleyway, so that she could get to the lair whenever she wanted without having to struggle to move the hubcap. Practically sliding down the ladder with practiced ease, she hit the ground hard and began sprinting towards the lair. Upon entering the lair's living room, she skidded to a halt, and all but shouted at Leo.
"Where's Don?!" The words escaped her as if being thrown from her throat in all one breath, and the words,
"In the lab?" had barely left Leo's lips before she had taken off at full speed once more. She ran into the lab, and Don barely had time to spin around in his chair to face her before she was in the air, jumping towards him. He scrambled to catch her, and was almost unsuccessful. After regaining his stability, he looked at her with confusion rampant in his eyes. Before being able to ask her what had brought her so frantically to his lab, she shoved her laptop into his hands, and screeched.
"The results are up!!" She jumped from his lap and began pacing, anxiety written across all of her features and scribbled throughout all of her movements, from the longest of her strides, to the smallest twitch of her muscles.
"That's great!" Donnie replied. "Did you pass?" She whipped her head around to him, looking at him as if he had grown a second head.
"I don't know!"
"You haven't checked yet?" He asked.
"No! I came straight here. I'm too nervous!" She exclaimed, her pacing gaining speed. "Will you read them to me?" He gave her a soft, wide smile, and agreed, lifting the top of her laptop open and entering her email and password to the test company's website. Clicking to the right tab, he pulled up the score report, with her anxious, quick steps serving as a background beat.
"Oh, Sweetie." He said, unreadable emotion in his voice. She stopped in her track and turned to him.
"What?! What is it?!" Don smiled wide at her.
"18/20. You passed! You got 70% on Numbers and Operations on Numbers, 77% on Algebra, 50% on probability, statistics, and data analysis, and 25% on measurements and geometry. You're graduating!" She squealed, jumping up and down, before charging at Donnie and tackling him in a hug, sending them both to the ground that time. She lifted just far enough away from him to gaze into his eyes, overjoyed, before beginning to cover every inch of his face in kisses.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!" She exclaimed. "I love you so much! I never could have done this without you!" He placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back for a moment, still embracing her.
"Hey, as happy as I am that I was helpful to you, I need you to know that it was you and your hard work that did this, not me. You did this, you earned this, and I am so proud of you, you deserve this." He said, seriously, and then smiled, pressing his lips to hers in a deep, loving kiss.
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twstjam · 1 year ago
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Lost Invitation (Part 2) - Respond, if you please
Sorry, I said half an hour, but blocking people took a bit longer than expected <3 Starting from now I'll be blocking everyone who likes Lost Invitation without reblogging it. If you reblog it onto a sideblog and I've blocked your main, do tell me or you might miss out on updates!!
Characters: Malleus Draconia, Meleanor Draconia, Levan Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver (brief), Sebek Zigvolt (mentioned), Yuu (mentioned) Word count: 4.6k (sorry, I got carried away writing the draconia fam lol) Summary: You're committed to helping Riddle Rosehearts and his card soldiers in a war against followers of the Jabberwock looking to usurp the rulers of Red and White. You're also in love with a stranger you met in the woods who wants you to run away with him. Whoever said that love and war weren't so different might've been onto something. In your experience, they're both equally difficult. Nobody ever said that you had to choose between one or the other though. Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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Prince Malleus Draconia is not lonely.
He hasn't been since before he hatched, his mother had made sure of it. He has faded memories of dozing off to his mother's soft singing, listening to his father's long ramblings, and curling up in the safety of the right-hand general's presence.
After hatching, his mother had doted on him like any prince of the Briar Lands deserved to be. Her and Father had indulged his every whim and desire. The servants bowed and trembled before the wrath of a newly-born dragonling who, though only three feet long, snarled his grievances accompanied by licks of fire and brewing snowstorms. Lilia Vanrouge was the only one to not kneel so easily.
Malleus Draconia was a prince and a hatchling, but Lilia did not treat him as such. Lilia scolded him like he would Mother, a matured dragon, and only complimented or rewarded him when he earned it. Needless to say, he was not favored amongst the little prince's guardians… or so Lilia says as he laments on the times Malleus used to set his hair ablaze. It had enlightened Malleus as to why the general currently wears his hair so short as opposed to the portraits he'd seen, but the prince—as it is the nature of fleeting old memories—cannot vividly recall his caretaker's tales. They also struck him as incredibly odd and he concluded that as an infant he had been a foolish thing (despite his parents' insistence otherwise). After all, Lilia is his most favored caretaker. This favoritism had even led to Malleus seeking Lilia out when he had hidden himself away one day, giving the prince the honor of being the first to meet the general's adopted son.
Silver had been an enigma to him. How could a meek little human infant, a species which his mother mocked frequently for their weakness and stupidity, appeal to a hardened fae general? It was even stranger to him that Mother seemed to completely forget her disdain for humans when she saw the little bundle in Lilia's arms. Though he would never say it aloud, Malleus had felt betrayed when his mother had asked to hold the child and took him from Lilia eagerly.
This little… thing, could not even hold itself up or eat solid food, let alone seek it out itself. It was useless and weak and nothing like the fierce creature Malleus had been when he broke out of his shell. Or at least, that's what Malleus used to think.
Truly, Malleus must not have been as exceptional of an infant as his parents insist. Malleus had spent 20 years crawling, meanwhile Silver mastered walking on two legs in mere months. Instead of cawing and snarling, the child babbled and laughed, elicited smiles from those around him, made warmth swell in Malleus's chest when he called the prince's name for the first time. The boy had still been small, not even 5 years old, and yet he had been able to climb up Malleus's legs and sit on his lap when he had invited him to read with him.
Sebek exhibited similar speed in growth. Malleus had blinked, and suddenly the little halfling had risen from a screeching newt into a strong guard that rivaled his own grandfather. Sebek likes to shadow him, always quick to see to his every need and always eager to win his approval. It's overbearing at some points, but the boy is growing and learning and has come to put his loyalty to use for only matters worthy of it, learning from Lilia and Silver to not merely agree to Malleus's every breath.
The revelation for such a change brought all four of them closer. It's not rare to see the two young knights by the prince's side, the former general watching after them from not far off.
Suffice to say, Malleus Draconia is not lonely. Absolutely not.
As a matter of fact, he quite likes being alone; the peacefulness of isolation, the escape from his demanding responsibilities. He has to return to the castle at some point of course. He has duties to his kingdom, but no matter how brief, he takes the opportunity to have some time for himself. To have some time to indulge his desires instead of being Prince Malleus; to be away from the expectations of his subjects and parents and instead cater to only himself.
He never quite expected to meet someone searching for something similar. At the very least, not at the same place, and you continued to surprise him in ways he could have never imagined.
After all, who could have predicted that a revered dragon prince of the fae would fall in love with a human?
----
Perhaps to any other, days at Wild Rose Castle could be considered dull, either because of the dim lighting and black walls or the castle staff that always hurry by without a whisper of a breath and with bowed heads.
If one were to ask Malleus however, he would say that days at the castle are always hectic. It's a good day when the castle is serenely dark and gloomy, but on others…
"Your DISGRACE of an offspring is a pathetic sprite unworthy of my son! How DARE you even consider a courtship between them?!"
Lightning fills the throne room with a bright purple light. Three aristocrats yelp and scramble to avoid the strikes of lightning coming down from the ceiling. Princess Meleanor's glare is deadly as she lifts and aims her staff to bring down another volley of lightning.
"P-p-please forgive us for our transgressions, your excellency!" the patriarch weeps as his family collapses to the floor in frantic bows. From his throne, Malleus can see the family's young heir trembling with choked sobs. His mother isn't the least bit appeased, her glare hardening and her staff crackling with power.
"ENOUGH! I will not tolerate any more nonsense out your blabbering mouth! You have come into my home, insulted my son, and dirtied my floor!" Meleanor raises her staff with a furious snarl. The magic surrounding it strikes the ceiling and deflects into multiple bolts of lightning throughout the throne room. "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT AND DO NOT DARKEN MY DOORSTEP EVER AGAIN!"
The nobles scramble back onto their feet and skitter out with fearful screams. The wails of Malleus's attempted suitor echo through the halls of the castle until the doors slam shut behind them.
Meleanor raises her head proudly, huffing a satisfied plume of smoke out of her nostrils. Beside the sighing Lord Levan, Lilia Vanrouge has his head in his hands.
"What nerve, to ask permission for our Malleus's hand whilst showing such disrespectful behavior!" Meleanor spins around with a flare of her cloak and seats herself on her throne, one leg crossed over the other. "I should have incinerated that child where they stood!"
"I'm quite certain your outburst had spoken the message quite clearly, my lady," Lilia says with no small amount of disapproval.
"I agree with Lilia." Malleus's mother whirls around to face him with a betrayed expression on her face. "It is no fault of theirs that I failed to give my full attention to them. They had every right to call out my rude behavior."
Meleanor scowls and tosses her head again. "If you exhibit overly courteous behavior then those stuck-up aristocrats will become too comfortable to speak ill of you. As a dragon, you must present yourself as one!"
"That courteousness is the only reason the staff does not perish within breathing distance of him," Lilia argues. Meleanor shoots him a glare but he isn't deterred. "The poor boy already has issue forming relationships. Your volcanic temper is not doing him any favors."
"I will deal with those interested in the future king of the Briar Lands and my son however I wish! In case you have forgotten, I am your princess and his mother!"
"He is 178, he is not a hatchling, Meleanor!"
"Regardless of his age I have no intention of allowing him to be mistreated or his heart to be broken."
"At the expense of others?!"
"Yes!"
"Ah, there he goes."
Meleanor straightens up from how she had been bent over to glare at the short general and they both look over at Levan. They follow his gaze and briefly see Malleus's tail slipping out of the throne room.
"Darling!" Meleanor gathers her skirt to dash after her son. As Malleus makes his escape, Lilia groans and slumps over the arm of Levan's throne. His friend pats his back in sympathy.
"You really must do something about that wife of yours," Lilia grumbles. Levan laughs nervously, but there's also fondness in his eyes.
"She is simply doing what she thinks is best for our son."
"It isn't and you know it is!" Lilia huffs, craning his neck to glare up at the lord. The corvid fae smiles sweetly and leans towards him with his elbows resting on the armrest.
"Have I told you how much cuter you look when you're angry?"
Lilia sputters, face turning vibrant red. "Be serious!"
"I am serious," Levan hums as he reaches to tuck some hair behind Lilia's ear. The other general swats his hand away and he laughs at the flustered pout on the smaller fae's face. "I pity those nobles, truly I do, but like you and I, I have a feeling our Meleanor knows that our young prince is keeping a secret. So at the end of the day, there is no harm done, hm?"
Lilia gapes and blinks at Levan in bewilderment.
"He told you?"
Levan smiles secretively, a hint of mischievousness in his eyes. He must know as much as Lilia does then, and though he is relieved to know that his friend is supportive of Malleus's feelings, he still dreads the inevitable of Meleanor discovering it for herself. Meleanor is both temperamental and viciously protective of her child, especially since his life had been threatened after she laid his egg during the human invasion centuries ago. It's quite easy to imagine her most likely reaction to her son being interested in courting a human.
"He did. He also requested assistance from me." Levan looks up and his eyes brighten. "There it is now."
Levan waves his hand. Lilia's keen ears catch the sound of beating wings and he turns around to see a window opening. A raven flies into the throne room and settles on Levan's offered arm. The bird caws a greeting to Lilia before bowing its head to the lord.
"Welcome back, my friend," Levan coos as he strokes its wing. "What news do you bring from the Rose Queendom?"
Lilia perks up at mention of the Rose Queendom and looks at the bird with interest. The familiar makes a series of clicks and squawks. Lilia isn't the most fluent in corvid speak so he waits for Levan to translate, but when he looks to his friend, the other fae's smile has turned into an ominous frown.
"…It's not good news, I'm guessing."
----
Malleus typically finds comfort in isolation. It brings him the silence he requires to think and focus on both official and personal matters. Unfortunately though, for his current predicament, his most trusted method of comfort only seems to distress him more.
The conflict between the Rose and Lily Queendoms is taking it's toll on you. It's inevitable—He sees it a lot in Father and Lilia, how their gazes would sometimes look haunted by ghosts unseen to him even when doing the most mundane tasks —but that does not mean Malleus has to like it, or that either him or you should simply allow it to wear you down.
Sometimes, when he is speaking with you, you would get a faraway look in your eyes, lost in thought. During those moments the bags beneath your eyes look more prominent, your body thinner, your skin paler. You would apologise for losing track of the conversation and Malleus would excuse it, but within his chest a pit grew deeper and deeper, filling with irrational concern for you.
The desire to hoard and care for those most cherished to him isn't a foreign feeling to Malleus. He recalls that at a young age he would nest with his parents at night and steal Lilia and his father's weapons to stop them from leaving the castle for their duties. Now, he watches over Silver while he sleeps and sits at the water's edge when Sebek practices his swimming.
It is something normal for dragons to want their loved ones happy and safe, but the way he feels it with you is incomparable. He cares for you, (which had initially surprised him, to care for a strange human) there's no doubt about it, but more than anything else he wants to be the one to care for you, to ensure your safety. To take you away and tuck you inside his wings, to gift you all the luxuries you could ever need so that you would no longer be hurt or troubled.
And the strangest thing? He desires the same thing from you as well. For you to care for him, cherish him, want him, love him. For you to take his hand and let him whisk you away to somewhere the two of you could see and speak to each other every day, where you could sit and listen contentedly to him and him to you and help him with his woes like he wishes to help you with yours.
Confiding in Lilia had been what led him to realise his feelings for you. The older fae's recollection of his parents' courtship had been… concerning, but it reassured Malleus that his desires were not unusual and that, most importantly, his beloved caretaker accepted you.
It had taken more courage to approach Lord Levan, but he should have known that his understanding father would support him wholeheartedly. At Malleus's request, his father had sent one of his ravens to the Queendom and Malleus now spends almost every waking moment anxious for its return.
Telling his mother about you is… another matter entirely.
You were right that it wouldn't be wise to bring you into his home. He loves his mother, but like him, she possesses the nature of the dragon. She is caring, excessively so, and… incredibly protective, to say the least.
And to say that Malleus is fearful of her discovering his romantic feelings for you, a human—a race she loathes with her entire being—is an understatement.
You are fearless, perhaps a little foolish, but not saneless. She will chase you off as she has many others. The incident today was only one of many.
Regardless of his mother's ill manners and your reluctance to be with him, Malleus's heart does not stop yearning and yearn he does as he sits alone in his rose garden, innocent red rose in hand, plucking each poor petal after the other as his thoughts whirl around his mind uselessly.
Perhaps he should have been more insistent. Perhaps he should have taken you back anyway. Perhaps—
"Malleus?"
The click of his mother's heels on the garden's stone path grow louder with each approaching step. Meleanor appears beneath the rose arch to the gazebo and Malleus hurriedly brushes off the petals that have gathered on his lap.
"There you are. I have been looking for you, dear." Mother smiles as she walks up the steps of the gazebo, the long train of her skirt dragging behind her. She eyes the rose petals scattered around him. "What are you doing?"
"Ah. I am picking rose petals… for tea." His mother raises an eyebrow at his reluctant tone so he quickly diverts the topic. "Am I needed somewhere, Mother?"
"No, no." Meleanor sweeps up her cloak to that it isn't trampled beneath her when she takes a seat next to him. "I was merely worried." With gentle claws, she cradles Malleus's chin and lifts his gaze to hers. "I did not scare you, did I?"
"No—" Never, he wants to say. Even if she can summon the most destructive storms and move mountains with a snap of her fingers, Malleus can never be afraid of his mother, but the churning feelings in his gut lodges the words in his throat.
Malleus pulls away from her touch, looking away before he can see her frown. "I apologise, Mother. I exhibited behavior unbecoming of a prince in front of our visitors."
Instead of reprimanding him, his mother laughs. She's always so self-assured; with her magic, with her choices. It's one of the many things he admires but also envies about his mother. If only he can reach that point of confidence in his life much sooner.
"My silly little beast. There is nothing to apologise for," his mother coos, brushing a lock of hair out of his face with a careful talon. "You did no harm. After all, you have been so distracted because you already have your eye on someone, don't you?"
Malleus turns towards his mother, wide-eyed, and her eyes glitter with excitement as she grins.
"How did you—" Malleus stops himself. How is he supposed to tread this? "…Did Father tell you?"
Meleanor's smile falls. "No, but I am hurt you chose to tell him before me."
Malleus swallows. He laces his fingers together in an effort to make himself feel less unsteady. "How do you know, then?"
"Come now, you didn't think a mother would not be able to see that her son has fallen in love, did you?" Meleanor giggles behind her claws, eyes bright with eagerness. She leans in towards her son and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tell me, tell me; what are they like? How did you meet? And most importantly: When will I meet them?"
Malleus opens his mouth and pauses. What does he tell her? Every scale on his being is restless, eager at the presented opportunity to talk about you, but certainly, he cannot tell his mother about you. About your humanity. She would, as Lilia frequently describes it, erupt. He did not need that display from earlier in the throne room to know this well.
(He grew up all his life with it after all; His mother losing her head at every slight insult or threat towards him and striking it with bolts of lightning until it runs away screaming.)
Malleus does not fear his mother, let alone resent her, but he does rather often catch himself wondering what it would be like if she were not so hot-headed.
"They are…" Malleus quickly trails off as soon as the attempt begins. He glances at his mother warily. She is giving him her full attention. The support should be encouraging, but the dread within him only increases. "You cannot meet them."
His mother reels back as if he had shocked her with electricity. Her eyes widen and then narrow. Her brows furrow and her lips pull into a displeased pout.
"Whyever not? …Are you ashamed of me?"
"What? No, of course not!"
"Embarrassed, perhaps?"
"Far from it."
"Then do you fear that I would scare them off?"
"Yes— Ah, I mean—!" Malleus screws his mouth shut and looks away again. Meleanor chuckles in amusement.
"Silly beast," she tuts. Behind him, Malleus's tail thumps agitatedly and she twines her own around it to soothe him. "I am flattered that you think so highly of me, but I assure you that any mate worthy of you will not cower so easily before me."
Malleus wraps his tail around his mother's offered one, but his expression is one of scepticism. "How do you know for certain? Do you truly have so much faith in my choice of a partner?"
"Oh, of course not! You are still just a little beast after all," Meleanor teases with a light pinch to his cheek. "What I mean is that, whoever you choose, we shall know if they are truly the correct mate for you if they remain beside you regardless of any trials."
"Oh… I see…" Malleus lowers his head. He clasps his hands tightly together. He can still remember the phantom feeling of your own hands on them, of you pulling away from him. Of him watching your retreating back after once more rejecting his offer to take you away.
"Darling?" His mother places her hands on his and the memory fades away. "Is something the matter?"
"I… I want you to meet them, truly I do, but…" Your face flashes before his eyes again, with it your shy smile and your voice whispering,
"Someday."
Malleus gathers his resolve and faces his mother. "Not anytime soon, I fear."
His mother pouts again. "Oh, come now—!"
"I don't think they would fear you." There's no way to know for certain until you actually meet her, but it is something he's fairly confident in. "It is that… they are currently occupied and will not be able to make time to come to our lands in the near future."
Meleanor's eyes light up with newfound interest. "Oh? They are not of the Briar Fae?"
Malleus bites his lip anxiously. "Er, no. They are—"
A bird sings overhead. The two dragons on the gazebo lift their heads and see a silver-haired knight walk through the rose arch.
"Lady Meleanor, Lord Malleus." Silver dips into a quick bow and rises again. "I apologise for interrupting."
"Oh, Silver! What a pleasant surprise. Have you finished your training today? Come, come. It has been too long since we last spoke." Meleanor beckons to the young knight to sit next to her.
"Er, if I recall correctly, we spoke just this morning—!"
Meleanor doesn't let him hesitate for long. She crooks her finger and wisps of purple magic tug on his uniform until he's standing on the gazebo.
"I apologise profusely, my lady," Silver stammers as her magic fades off of his clothes. "But I'm afraid I cannot stay long, my father requests to see Lord Malleus—"
"Does he!" Meleanor's eyebrows are arched, her expression devious in a way both boys know does not hold good intentions for their respective fathers. "How fortunate, I was hoping to speak to him about Malleus."
"Mother—"
"Lady Meleanor—"
Before either boy could get a word in, magic begins to swirl around the princess's fingers and she chants, "Come, my eyes and ears, my wings and feet."
Magic swirls and shimmers around her. Beneath her feet, her shadow ripples, and a raven bursts out of it with a frantic caw.
"Now why are you in such a hurry?" Meleanor tuts, easily catching the bird out of the air before it could fly off. The bird squawks and flaps its one wing that hadn't managed to be caught in her hand. She directs a firm gaze on it and it freezes, letting a pathetic noise out of its beak. Malleus winces in sympathy.
"Where is my Right?" Meleanor looks down at her shadow, displeased, but quickly smiles again when she turns to Silver. "Give me a hand, dear."
With them pointing downwards, Meleanor pinches together the thumb and forefinger of her free hand. She makes a pulling motion and a squealing bat emerges out of Silver's shadow. It manages to escape the princess's grasp on it but only briefly before she catches it by its legs.
The bat squeaks and screams, no doubt profanities blasphemous when directed at the crown princess, but she is unfazed. Silver looks down at the poor creature apologetically as it clings to his uniform in an attempt to shake off the dragoness's claws.
"What is the matter with you? Stop behaving so childishly. Look, your son is being much more mature than you, how embarrassing." Meleanor forces the bat to let go of the boy and holds it upside down, continuing to be unfazed as it claws at her lace gloves angrily. "You should know better than to ignore a summons from your mistress."
She shakes the bat in a not-so-gentle manner and the animal grows in size and changes shape until Lilia is hanging by the ankles. The raven does the same, but Meleanor lets Levan go so he can perch on her arm more comfortably.
"—the matter with you! You absolutely insane princess!" Lilia yells once he's finally taken his two-legged form again.
"Yes, you're very adorable, dear," Meleanor says dismissively with a pinch to his nose. Lilia hisses at her, but despite his complaints there's no real heat to them and he calms down quickly. "Now, my loves, when were the two of you going to tell me that a secret someone has caught our Malleus's interest?"
"I sincerely apologise, darling," Levan says mournfully, and any amount of aggression in his wife's expression fades away when he pecks a kiss on her cheek. "but it was not our secret to tell."
"Alright, I suppose I can forgive that. I'm sorry, dears." Meleanor looks at her son and husband fondly but scowls when she turns to Lilia. "Not you."
Lilia sticks his tongue out at her without remorse. With difficulty, he twists around to address Silver. "You've found Malleus! Well done, my boy."
"Thank… you, Father."
"What is it that you wished to speak to me about?" Malleus asks, tilting his head in an effort to meet Lilia's eyes. The bat fae exchanges a look with the prince's father and then glances at the princess holding him captive.
"Perhaps we should wait until later—"
"Wonderful, since I wished to speak to both of you about a different matter." Meleanor's expression turns into a deceptively sweet one that immediately has Lilia's face souring. "My loves, would you tell Malleus that you also desperately wish to meet this secret potential mate of his?"
She flutters her eyelashes for good measure. Malleus sighs and shakes his head.
"Mother…"
"I know what you said, but perhaps with encouragement from all three of us we can twist a few rules…"
"Actually, my love, what we wish to discuss concerns this… person." Meleanor raises an inquisitive eyebrow at her husband sitting on her arm.
"What?" All eyes turn to Malleus. The prince suddenly rises from his seat, pupils thinned to slits. Leftover rose petals scatter to his feet. "Has something happened to them?"
"I apologise, Malleus, but Lilia is right." Levan casts a quick look towards Meleanor and Malleus understands immediately.
Meleanor looks frustratedly between her son and husband, unhappy at being the only one uninformed. "Now what is this about? Why are you so reluctant to speak of this person within my presence?"
Lilia purses his lips, determined to not say a thing, meanwhile Levan looks towards his son again meaningfully.
Malleus takes a breath.
"It is what I have been meaning to tell you. Mother…" Malleus glances at Silver standing to the side, at attention. "Silver is a human."
Meleanor blinks. She looks at Silver, back at Malleus, and then bursts into laughter.
"But of course he is, silly beast!"
Malleus attempts to continue, but she doesn't stop laughing like it's the most hilarious joke she's heard in a century. He looks to his father helplessly. Levan gives him an encouraging smile but the doubt that twitches the edges of his lips isn't very reassuring. Meanwhile, Lilia sighs exasperatedly and Silver frowns in confusion.
"Well, Mother…" Meleanor keeps laughing and the longer the seconds tick by the more his confidence falters. Perhaps… If he says it now, she won't hear and she can remain in ignorant bliss. "This person I am in love with is a human as well."
The laughter stops so abruptly that the deadly silence sounds as loud as a crash of thunder.
"What."
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xo-cod · 11 months ago
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Hi my love! Hope you’re doing well 💕 no pressure, but if you were taking requests, would you be able to do a blurb of the 141 men learning how to braid their daughter’s hair? I’ve been reading your girl dad fics and it makes me so soft!!!! Imagining these burly guys trying to figure out little girl braids makes me laugh lol.
Again I love you blog, you’re incredible 💕 hope you have an amazing day 💕
hi lovely, you're so kind ily 🥹🩷 hope you're doing well! <3 this was so so cute omg, i loved this so bad 😭
i hope this was along the lines of what you wanted :")
price: "goddamn it, not again" lowkey getting very frustrated with himself because it's not turning out the way he wants it to be and he's a perfectionist. he's already run the brush through her hair gently for the umpteenth time, causing her to grumble and wanting to go play instead. but he holds her back carefully, determined to make her braids the prettiest anyone has ever seen. he holds her hair band between his lips as he frowns at the braid again.
"just a second, honey" it's loose and he doesn't know how to tighten it but he's determined. nobody is moving an inch until he perfects that braid. his back curved slightly uncomfortable and he's definitely going to get neck pain, bending a little down to get the best access to her head and he does finally manage to get it accurate. it only took an hour but he's very proud of himself :")
simon: "this bit.... goes underneath right? over the top, underneath the side, down back under.... piece of cake, honey" simon is a dedicated man, his tongue peeking out from his lips as he tried his very hardest to memorise what he had learnt from a youtube video. his daughter sat between his huge thighs, his big fingers working her hair very delicately in order not to pull on any strands. he has the hair grips secured between his lips, eyes narrowed very carefully as he braids her hair trying to get all of the hair. he is a man on a mission and he will carry out the task to the best of his ability.
"bloody hell, that took it out of me" he finally lets out a relieved sigh at his masterpiece, there might be a few strands sticking out and the braid might look a little lopsided but it's unique :") only to have his daughter shake her head once causing the braid to tumble down and his face in pure utter shock and disbelief
gaz: "keep your head straight okay, honey?" gaz should def open a hair place, he's already mastered the technique of braiding from his mom especially because his hair type is different and requires a certain amount of care. so he knows exactly how to braid, call it his secret talent ;) lowkey finds it therapeutic and will 100% decorates his girl's hair with different clips and grips, whatever her little heart desires. he loves brushing his fingers through her locks and he always manages to get the parting accurate on the first time. which saves a ton of tantrums on her end.
"my beautiful baby girl" best believe he's whipping out the camera to take pictures of her hair and send it to you, marvelling at how gorgeous she looks. he's all smug when she wants to come to him for her hair but it bites him back in the ass when he's half dressed needing to leave the house in five minutes to head to bade only to be tugged by his child by the wrist to have her hair braided in that specific way she loves.
soap: "christ sake, why would they add so many pieces?" soap definitely underestimated himself, he didn't mean to blow his own horn but now that he has, he doesn't not accept defeat easily at all. will memorise that youtube video back to front, his daughter seated in his lap both of the criss crossed as he works delicately. his face set intently, eyes slightly narrowed as he braids. he's confused by the movement but gets the hang of it after a while and then it's like second nature, he's so happy with himself.
"look at you, little lass. my sweet girl" his little girl perched in his lap as he tightens the braided pony tails, gushing at how cute she is and how perfect the braids he had done on her hair came out. will 100% parade her around so everyone can see how perfect his braids are but no touching his little girl or her hair at all, under any circumstances <3
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the-really-lonely-mountain · 11 months ago
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Along for The Ride - Part 1
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Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Summary: Transported to Middle Earth, you must Join Thorin Oakenshield's Company as they travel to reclaim Erebor! OR: My take on the classic 'modern girl in Middle Earth' troupe. With this first installment, we are following the first movie of The Hobbit trilogy, and falling in love with Kili on the way! Slow burn with this one y'all, nothing spicy till the next work I'm afraid.
Tags: Kili / Reader, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Modern Character in Middle Earth, During The Hobbit, How Do I Tag, Canon-Typical Violence, Kíli Is a Little Shit (Tolkien), wrote this while I had covid, in like 4 days lol, implied soulmates, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Freeform, Holding Hands, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Thorin Oakenshield Company Members, Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Where In Middle-Earth Is Gandalf?, Hair Braiding, Dwarf Courting, My First Tumblr Fic, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Live, Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Fíli Lives (Tolkien), Kíli Lives (Tolkien)
Word Count: 6,292
A/N: I was utterly appalled by the lack of Kili writers on here and Ao3. Y'all who write for Kili, I've been eating your crumbs like it's the shit (cause it is) for weeks, but one can't be sustained on crumbs alone so I've prepared a feast!! This is the first fic I've ever wanted to post, please be gentle. Comments, Likes, and Reblogs are loved and treasured!!
Tagging the amazing Kili writers I've been living off of for the past few weeks and who have inspired me so they might share in the feast as well lol go check out their stuff too: @mikathemonster, @cowboybeepboop, @littleenglishfangirl, @ethereal-inquisitor, @sweetpeakili
Photo credit: @immawriteyouthings
Divider credit: @cafekitsune
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You were having one of those days that made you want to run away from everything. Instead, you walked on the golf course behind your house after hours; no phone, no umbrella, no bag this time, just you. You had what you could fit from your hands in your jean pockets as you walked the grassy field. Something twinkled and caught your eye on the far side of the fairway, there was a sparkle in the ferns. You walked over and began looking through the underbrush. Your hand grazed a smooth stick with a mangled end that encased a gem. You picked it up hoping for a better look but were transported to another world instead!
You appeared in the new world holding the staff. You were standing beside an older fellow with a pointy hat and long grey beard. You looked around and saw many other gruff, burly-looking men sitting in an encampment. They looked as confused as you. You did the only thing you could think of doing at that moment.
You turned around and took off running as fast as you could.
The wizard whose staff you were running away with asked the younger dwarves in his company to fetch you for him. They ran after you as quick as the wind. You dodged trees and hurdled bushes, making an all-around great effort. You were slowing down though. You stopped for a moment to catch your breath and plan. A twig snapped in the distance; quick footsteps closed in on you. You took off again. You needed a place to hide, a moment to think for God's sake. You were afforded no such luxuries. They were gaining, you were tiring. In your drained haste, you tripped on a bush which sent you stumbling and struggling to regain your footing given your momentum. You finally fell and scampered to take cover behind the roots of a great tree. Their footfalls grew slower and drew nearer. They were so close you could hear their words now.
“…She’s hiding, Fili,” one said much closer than you expected them to be.
You tried your best to steady your breathing. Your heartbeat was so loud you knew they could hear it.
“Stop scaring her Kili,” The other chastised. “You know she’s got to be scared half to death”. He walked past you, studying the ground. The other came up the other side of the tree doing the same.
You gripped the staff preparing yourself to be found. They turned in unison following the same tracks and looked up at you simultaneously. They were both panting but not as hard as you. Fili, the elder and more experienced of the two knelt where he stood a few yards from your curled trembling form.
“My name is Fili” He put his hand on his chest and motioned to the man next to him, “This is my brother Kili. We mean no harm to you.” He kept his distance and showed his empty hands. You stayed firmly pressed against the tree trunk, your chest heaving rapidly and your eyes as large as saucers. They could have tackled you, beaten you, or done any number of terrible violating things, but they kept their distance and spoke softly.
“What’s your name?” Kili asked, with a charming smile as he crouched beside his brother.
“Y/N,” you said in a shaky freaked-out tone.
“Y/N, that’s our friend wizard’s staff,” Fili said, “If anyone can figure out how you got here, he can.”
“But you gotta come back to camp with us,” Kili said reaching out his hand as a peace offering. So many horrible things could happen to you in the wild of this new world, but even more on top of that could if you didn’t go with them.
“How can I trust you?” You asked them. They looked at each other.
“How can we trust you?” Kili threw back at you with a suspicious look and recoiled his hand.
“Touche” you nodded returning his look.
“Seems we are at an impasse then,” Fili huffed at his brother, “You want to get home, and our wizard can do that. The only way that can happen is if you come with us back to our camp. We can only offer you our word and promise on our honor as dwarven princes that you will not be harmed by any in our company.”
You thought for a moment and nibbled at your lip, “You promise?” you looked up at Kili this time.
Kili looked you deep in the eyes, and very seriously said: “No harm will ever come to you, on my honor as a prince.”
You nodded at this, “Very well”, and tried to stand up but were stuck against the tree. The 2 men easily lifted you back to your feet. You followed them back to the camp.
You tried your best to hide behind Kili as you approached the wizard smoking a pipe. You peeked from around his shoulder at the other men in the camp. They were looking at you.
“Please sit, my dear,” The wizard said to you, motioning to the rest of the long log beside him “We have much to discuss.”
Your legs wouldn’t move you from behind the dwarf. You were still quite afraid.
“She seems to have taken a liking to you Kili,” the wizard said to him. The rest of the company let out a soft chuckle of agreement. You couldn’t see it from your angle, but Kili smiled and nodded.
“Sit down child, we aren’t going to hurt you,” One of the dwarves sitting across the fire said. You took a deep breath to gather your courage. One false move by any of the others would have you bolting again.
You moved from behind Kili and sat beside the wizard still clutching the staff.
“May I take that from you?” the wizard politely asked. You handed it to him. He explained how this type of thing had happened to a couple of his wizard friends before, but he didn’t know the remedy or spell to undo it or how to prevent it from happening again. You sat quietly listening and nodding. He explained to you and the rest of the company that he was leaving to travel to his friend and inquire about your predicament. In the meantime, he convinced the company and its leader, Thorin you came to know, to keep you in the company as an innocent bystander to help around the camp and whatnot till Gandalf (the wizard) could figure out what to do with you. Gandalf gave you a small sack of coins, instructing you to get a bag, a bedroll, clothes, and any other necessities you’ll need at the next town.
As the fire died down so did the company. They got out their bedrolls and sleeping gear like a synchronized unit and as quickly as they started, they were all asleep snoring softly. Kili had first watch and was sitting on the ground next to you leaning against the log you were on. You slid onto the ground next to him curled with your knees to your chest. He looked over at you. You looked over at him.
“I don’t know what to do now,” you said not hiding the waver in your voice very well, “I’m so scared.” You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You cried into your hands as quietly as possible, so you didn’t disturb and anger the others. If you had looked at Kili, you would have seen him in a slight panic and at a loss for what to do, he didn’t know how to console crying women. You sobbed into your hands knowing you just needed to let it all out then you’d be fine. Kili looked at the fire and put his hand on your back. Physical contact of any kind back home was next to nonexistent, it felt nice to know he was trying his best to comfort you. After a few minutes of uncontrollable sobbing and hiccups wracking through you, you began calming down. When you were able to breathe properly, you wiped your face even though tears kept falling. You sniffled and rested your chin on your knees letting the tears fall silently now.
“Do you feel better?” Kili guessed in a soft tone and rubbed his hand on your back.
You nodded at him, “Yes” You took a deep breath and wiped the tears from your eyes as best you could, “Thank you” You looked at him and smiled a little. He smiled and nodded too, still concerned but returned his hand to his lap. You sniffled and looked at the fire.
“Really though I don’t know what I’m doing,” you said. “I’ve never been camping before,” you paused to think. “I don’t know how to fight or use a sword or make a fire or hunt or-or—” You were working yourself up and starting to cry again. Kili cut you off before you could start sobbing hysterically again.
“WOAH! Woah!!” alarmed, he put his hand on your back again, “It’s ok. Calm down.” he said harshly, “Take a deep breath, that seemed to help last time,” He mumbled the last part under his breath. That made you smile despite yourself.
“You don’t know how to console someone, do you?” You took a deep breath and wiped your eyes. He shook his head and took his hand from you. “Seems we’re both out of our depth then,” you said making the mood a bit lighter.
“In my defense, I was raised in a pack of manly men,” He smiled fondly “It’s a wonder my mother got through to me at all.”
“So, you do have a mother,” you said, making him look at you quizzically “I assumed you were raised by wolves,” You shrugged. He laughed and you couldn’t help but smile.
“You’re not completely wrong about that,” He smiled, looking over at the men across the fire. There was a momentary silence. “We’ll teach you those things, how to fight, how to make a fire, all that,” He looked over at you, “I mean who knows how long Gandalf will be, and you’d have to be pretty stupid not to pick up a thing or two even from this bunch.” You smiled and nodded; this calmed your nerves a little. A moment of silence fell between you again.
“Is it ok if I stay up with you?” you innocently asked, “I’m not very tired.”
“Sure,” he said casually, “May I ask about your life back in your world?”
“OK,” You nodded.
“What do you do?” he asked, you gave him a weird look. “Like for a living, how do you make money, how do you spend your days?”
“I’m a student at university at the moment.” He looked at you confused this time. “I spend my days studying at a desk, it’s boring and dull” You quickly summed up.
“Ooohh,” He said, “No wonder you couldn’t run for shit,” He laughed.
You scoffed, “So rude,” You huffed, failing to hide your smile. He was glad you were cheering up a bit.
“If it’s so boring and dull, why don’t you do something else?” He asked, naive to your world and its ways.
“It’s…complicated” you sighed “I have to study to do what I want to do for work even though I don’t want to work or study or do any of that, but I have to make money somehow because I need money to do stuff and buy things because the world I live in is shitty that way and it’s so frustrating sometimes,” you gritted your teeth to make your point.
“Well, what do you want to do then?” he asked, trying to understand your strange world.
“Sit on the beach,” You said without hesitation “…Listen to the waves…sleep on a blanket in the sun,” you sighed wistfully. “Die happy and rich.”
“That does sound nice” He agreed “I’ve never seen a tropical ocean before, the seas near the Blue Mountains are all frozen over.”
“Surely there’s a beach somewhere in this world,” You refused to believe the universe sent you to a world without a beach.
“There is! I’ve heard stories of Southern Gondor, where the sun makes the sand hotter than forges, and the water falls over the horizon in every direction.”
“That sounds like the beaches from back home,” You felt a little bad for him. You’d been practically raised at the beach because it was the only free thing to do in your hometown.
“May I ask a question?” you asked this time.
“Of course,” He shifted to lean against the log and face you.
“What are you guys doing?” you gestured to the camp around you.
“We are on a quest!” He said proudly, “A quest to take back our ancestral home from the dread dragon Smaug,” he said in a sinister voice. He explained about Erebor and the dragon and Thorin to catch you up. You listened, nodded, and took it all in, asking questions and giggling at his jokes. He was a decent storyteller.
“And I’m just along for the ride I guess,” you said deflated about your role in all this.
“If it’s any consolation, you’re quite good company,” He indulged; Kili always got so lonely on watch.
“Yay!” you said over a yawn, “I’d hate to bore any of you,” you replied, genuinely fearing your stories may never measure up to theirs. You leaned over and laid on the soft grass, curled in a ball with your arm as a pillow. You tried not to shiver from the cool evening breeze. You heard some shuffling of fabric, and then a blanket fluttered on top of you. You looked at Kili who smiled and said: “I’m quite the furnace at night, I’ll be fine without it,” he reassured.
“Thank you,” you said over another yawn. You didn’t expect to fall asleep but the next thing you knew it was early morning and you were awoken by the clanging of pots and spoons. You sat up and looked around to get your bearings.
‘Still in the same strange world’ you thought not fully awake. Kili appeared, greeted you good morning, and handed you a bowl of white goo he called porridge. You thanked him and ate your breakfast in silence like the rest of the company. While the men packed up the camp you were tasked with washing the dishes in a nearby stream. You were struck by the beauty of the incredible woods around you even in the dim morning light. You returned to camp and put the dishes in their bag, which was taken by one of your new companions. You felt out of place without a task among everyone who knew what to do. Balin saw you standing in the middle of the camp looking lost. He asked Thorin what they were to do about their lack of an extra pony for you. They decided you could ride with Kili seeing as he was the lightest (next to Bilbo) and his pony could take the weight and because you seemed the most comfortable with him. The old dwarf with a white-grey beard curled up at the ends approached you with as much of a nonthreatening air as he could muster.
“Good morning, my dear!” He greeted you with a chipper smile. “My name is Balin”
“Good morning,” you replied. “I don't quite know what I’m to be doing,” you said sheepishly.
“That’s ok lass, it’ll come with time,” he reassured, “For now, you’ll ride with Kili so you can see if he needs help getting ready.”
“Ok,” You nodded and started walking in Kili’s direction. You stopped in front of his pony and petted its nose and down its neck. “I’ve been told that I’m to ride with you,” you said timidly looking at him adjust his saddle. Kili looked at you and nodded.
“I’ll be happy to have a lovely conversation again” He smiled and looked back at his saddle, making the final arrangements.
He turned to you and said, “I’ll give you a leg up,” And jabbed a thumb at his pony. You nodded and approached the animal. You put your hands on the ponies back and bent your leg waiting for him to help. He leaned forward so he could whisper in your ear: “Wrong leg”. You blushed quite profusely at that and switched legs. He heaved you with such strength he nearly threw you over the other side of the pony. You made yourself comfortable behind the saddle before he hooked his foot in the stirrup and carefully mounted so he didn’t knock you off.
“You ok?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Yep!” you smiled. He nodded. You were excited to see new lands even though you feared what they harbored.
“If you need to hold on to me when we get going you can,” he said, making you both blush despite yourselves.
A few moments later Thorin called out: “Company ready?” in a deep booming voice, “Aye!” They all replied in unison. “Company, move out!” He bellowed and urged his pony forward. The rest followed behind him one by one. When your animal lurched forward you grabbed Kili's waist for dear life. The company was silent till they got to the end of the forest. You had your cheek pressed against Kili’s shoulder and your chest against his back. The fur of his coat was very soft against your face as you turned your head to look over his other shoulder. You yawned but didn’t realize you did it right next to his ear and breathed down his neck. He determinedly kept his eyes on the pony ahead of him to keep the blush rising in his chest at bay.
“You can take a nap if you need to,” he said over his shoulder in a soft voice for only you to hear.
“That sounds like a good idea,” You yawned again. You buried your face in the soft spare fabric of the hood on his back and cuddled closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes and sleep swiftly took you. He knew this because he could feel your breathing slow on the back of his neck. He was happy you could sleep and couldn’t help his smile. You shifted now and then, turning your head one way then a while later turning it the other. Kili tried not to talk or move too much in fear of waking your delicate slumber. By midday, you felt very well rested. You took a deep breath and released your grasp on Kili to stretch your arms above your head, arching your back to wake yourself up. You quickly slipped your arms around him again, so you didn’t fall.
“Good morning!” He chirped, “Well afternoon really,” he corrected with a smile, “Sleep well?”
“Mhm,” You hummed against his shoulder “I haven’t slept that well in a long time,” you said thinking back on the restless weeks before your arrival in Middle Earth.
“Good,” He nodded. “Happy I could be of service.”
“Yes, you make quite the comfortable bed,” you replied.
An easy silence settled between you for a while. You contentedly watched the landscape pass by while he kept the pony on the path.
“What’s a good weapon for a beginner?” You asked knowing you needed to start wrapping your head around the fact that you could be stuck here forever and needed to protect yourself. He thought about that for a few moments.
“I’d have to say a bow,” He shrugged, “I don’t know honestly, lemme ask Fili,” he kicked up his pony to walk faster to be next to his brother. “What is the best weapon for a beginner?” He asked him. Fili glanced at you and thought for a moment.
“Hmm I think a sword would be easiest,” He replied, contradicting his brother.
“A sword?!” Kili said incredulously “No that’s one of the harder ones,” He swatted his hand as if to swipe the words from the air.
Fili scoffed “For you maybe,” he said barely keeping his teasing smile under control “But not to the rest of us, my weapon-challenged brother.” That made you giggle. Kili huffed and pulled his horse back, so he wasn’t beside his brother anymore.
“Are you that bad with a sword?” you asked, trying not to laugh too much.
“No!” he exclaimed, “I’m just better with a bow and arrows,” he pouted.
‘Awe he’s so cute when he pouts’ Your thought took you by surprise.
“Perhaps you can teach me, Archer,” Your voice was lower than you intended, making you both blush. Your breath ghosted over his ear making him shiver just a little. He turned his head to look at you over his shoulder, his face so close to yours. He looked at your lips then deep into your eyes holding eye contact.
“Maybe I will,” he said in a deep gruff whisper that made you gasp and goosebumps rush over your skin. He turned back and smiled; proud he could get a rise out of you. You huffed and distanced yourself from him by leaning back, needing the space to calm down.
As night drew closer, Thorin led the company to the edge of a forest and found a shallow cave, more like a cliff overhang to make camp for the night. He told Fili and Kili to take care of the ponies and Oin and Gloin to make the fire. After the meals had been handed out Thorin told you to take Fili and Kili a bowl. You walked through the forest and found them looking at a downed tree in panicked awe.
“Something took 4 of the ponies,” Fili said to you, hoping you’d have the answer to their predicament.
“Yes, and…” you nodded at them trying not to panic yourself “What are you going to do about it since it’s your problem?”
The brothers decided to see what took the ponies and if they could handle it themselves, no need to worry Thorin, right? You followed them as they tracked the pony-nappers. Kili hid behind a tree and peeked around, you hid behind him and peeked over his shoulder. 3 large trolls were something to worry about, and a sight that made that dreadful feeling drop from your chest into your stomach. Your grip on Kili’s coat tightened.
He turned to you and said in barely a whisper, “Go back to camp and tell Thorin”.
Fili was immediately against it, huffing and puffing from behind his tree. Kili shrugged and motioned with hands as if to say, ‘What else would you have us do?!’ Fili huffed again and snuck around the tree. He tried to cut the rope fence with his sword, but he took too long. The trolls caught him. They were deciding ways to eat him when Kili looked at you in alarm and told you to go back to camp. You ran as fast as you could.
“Ponies! Big grey troll things took the ponies!” You said out of breath pointing the way you just came “Fili…in…danger”. Thorin cursed in dwarfish and rallied the company. Balin told you to keep your distance, so you didn’t get caught in the fight.
The dwarves fought bravely but were captured. Bilbo bid for more time while you thought of a plan. You heard the trolls complain about daylight coming and that gave you an idea. You saw the trolls had made camp in the shade cast by a large boulder. You wedged a branch under the rock and used the leverage to try to roll it. It was very heavy, and you were not. It took everything in your power to push the branch to roll the boulder down the ditch edge it rested on. The trolls were washed in sunlight, turning them to stone and freeing the company. They cheered when you stepped over the branch and into the clearing. You helped them from their confines and smiled and blushed when they praised your good job.
Back at camp the company gathered their things and discussed what to do now. Fili suddenly hushed the company.
“Warg howls in the distance,” He whispered to Thorin “They are coming!”
“RUN!” Thorin yelled at the company. Following Thorin everyone started running. You all ran as fast as you could onto a hilly plane sprinkled with trees and boulders. You ran and ran till the Wargs finally caught up. They began to encircle you. The company fought the beasts, taking them down as still more came at them. You went to hide behind the rock formation but fell into it instead. You climbed out as the Wargs were closing in.
“Down here!” you called “There’s a passage this way!” you slid down to make room for the others. Thorin was the last one, as he slid down a horn was blown near the entrance to the passage.
“I can’t see where it leads, do we follow?” One of the dwarves asked.
“Yes! We follow!” Thorin barged through the dwarves and led the company through the narrow pass. You all walked for a few minutes, but then Thorin rounded a corner and slowed as he realized where he’d unwittingly led the company. The rest kept walking around him, but Bilbo stopped and said in admiration: “Rivendell”. You stopped as well to take in the view before you. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. A small town on the side of a mountain with water flowing from beneath some of the glittering structures.
As Thorin led the company over a bridge, you grabbed Kili’s arm to steady yourself as you looked around and took in the ornate statues and architecture of the front steps of a large building. A man much taller than you or the dwarves approached the group.
“We would like to speak to Lord Elrond,” Thorin said through gritted teeth. He was swallowing his pride for the betterment of the quest, that much was clear through his clenched fists and tense shoulders.
“Lord Elrond isn’t here,” The elf said regretfully.
“Then where is he?” Thorin’s patience was growing thin. A horn was sounded on the other side of the bridge you’d just crossed. Everyone turned to see a group of horses galloping towards them. The dwarves began shouting in dwarfish and closing ranks with their weapons ready for battle. You were pushed into the very center of the circle as tall horses and riders circled you. They stopped suddenly and the one on a black horse dismounted.
“My Lord Elrond,” The elf who first approached you said with a bow.
“Lindir” Elrond bowed his head at him then turned to the leader of your group, “Welcome Thorin son of Thrain,” He looked over the dwarf “You have your grandfather's bearings.”
“I’m afraid I know you only from the stories my grandfather told me,” Thorin was doing his best to be polite. (You were later informed that the stories were mostly about him being a ninny.)
“I’d like to offer you and your company a taste of our elfish hospitality,” Elrond said with a warm smile.
“Does that mean we’ll eat?!” Bombur called from the back. The company chuckled at him.
“Yes Bombur, that means we’ll eat” Dori replied. The company cheered at the prospect of a full belly and a warm hearth.
Not long after, you were sat next to Bilbo and Kili at a large table. The salad appetizers were very good despite the dwarves not liking green food very much. You giggled at their jokes about how bad the music was or how they wanted chips and meat. Thorin was sat at another table across from Elrond discussing something you couldn’t hear, but you could tell it pained Thorin to be in the other man's presence.
You turned to Kili beside you. “Thorin looks constipated,” you said in a low voice barely containing your laughter “He can’t even pretend to be enjoying this”. Kili looked over at his uncle and laughed with you.
When the meals were served there was boisterous laughter and general dwarfish shenanigans, the usual at any merry dwarfish gathering. Bilbo looked like he was having PTSD from when they were doing the same at his house at the beginning of the quest. At the end of the meal, Thorin and Balin disappeared with Elrond to discuss a map. You asked Kili if he would escort you to the markets with as much innocent girlish need as you could muster to solidify your security. He agreed and walked with you through the corridors and to the market. He helped you get a fair price on a bag, a blanket, and a bedroll. The next thing you needed was clothes to blend in.
“What do the women around here wear exactly?” You asked him. He shrugged.
“It depends, I guess” He had his hands shoved in his pockets as he followed you around the clothing stalls like a puppy.
“Gee, that’s a big help.” You teased.
After some more wandering you found a stall selling clothes that looked your size. You purchased a dark blue form-fitting tunic that stopped above your knees and had slits on the sides that went up to your hips. It paired very nicely with the brown pants and brown coat with dark blue highlights you bought as well. Kili helped barter with the merchants since you didn’t know the fair price of things here. In another section of the market, you bought spools of black, blue, and pink thread. You put your belongings in your new bag.
“Are we done?” Kili asked, sounding slightly annoyed. He was ready to go back to the others and be away from so many elves. You sighed and rolled your eyes playfully and nodded. He led you through the busy crowded markets by holding your hand. You were thankful he was in front of you so he couldn’t see your blush. You made it back to the group, who had set up camp in a courtyard garden at the end of a hallway. Just as you arrived two female and two male elves came down the hallway.
One of the males stepped forward, “The bathhouse is ready for you now” he said to the group.
“Bath?! We don’t need no stinkin’ bath!” Exclaimed a dwarf from behind the fire. The rest heartily agreed, not ready to drop their pants on elvish soil it seemed.
“I’d like a bath” you timidly said, not wanting to make a fuss but very much wanting to be clean.
“Very good mistress dwarf, if you’ll follow us,” one of the female elves said. You were tense as you followed the four elves down the corridor, not sure what you were doing.
“You best go with her lad,” Dori said to Kili, “You never know what an elf might try to pull.” He glared at the back of the elves as they walked away. Kili nodded and ran after you.
“Y/N!” He called making you and the elves stop.
“Oh, change your mind, Kili?” You asked with an innocent smile, happy to have his company.
“Yeah, I guess so.” He smiled too.
You were led to a large door that opened into a covered hot spring that flowed over the balcony to create an assumably gorgeous waterfall. Columns lined the outer edge of the room which was split down the middle by a cloth partition. The male elves walked to one side of the divider with Kili in tow, while the females walked to the other. The elves asked that you wash under the heated shower of water off to the side before entering the hot springs. They left you to your own devices.
“I’ve never seen anything like this have you?” You asked Kili across the large room.
“No” He smiled at the wonder in your voice from seeing new things and making discoveries. He thought it was very cute.
You placed your bag and new clothes on the vanity in the corner. You undressed and stepped under the warm shower. You used the bar of soap you found to wash your hair and body. It was the best-smelling soap you’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing.
“Hey, Kee?” You hollered.
“Yeah?” He yelled back.
“Do you plan on keeping your soap?”
“No…Why?”
“I’ll take it then. I’ll need extra anyway,” And you were so happy you did. That soap made your hair silky smooth and stronger than ever. You rinsed the suds away then stepped into the hot springs.
It felt luxurious. You couldn’t help but moan a little as the heat pulled every knot and tense muscle from you. Relaxed, you floated in the steamy water.
“You still there Kili?” you asked suddenly nervous he’d left you.
“Yeah, I’m here” He replied, “We shouldn’t take too much longer though, Thorin could be back any minute and who knows what kind of a mood he’ll be in.”
That made you enjoy the bath a little faster. Not long after you began drying off and getting dressed. You took the hairbrush and beads and other miscellaneous hair trinkets that were on the vanity. You looked in the mirror at your new outfit. It fit as you thought, though a little snugger in some places than others, hugging your curves to allow for movement yet still baggy for breathability and insulation. Overall, a nice ensemble.
“Ready Y/N?” Kili asked from across the partition.
“Yeah, you can come over, I’m just packing my things.” You replied, folding your old clothes, and putting them in your bag with the rest of your things.
“Here’s the soap” He handed it to you.
“Thanks!” You smiled at him; you simply wrote his flushed cheeks off to the hot water. When you stood, he was able to get a much better look at you in your new clothes.
“A perfect fit I see” He smiled, looking you up and down. He couldn’t help but imagine what you’d look like wearing nothing but his tunic. A line of thought he blushed at and quickly willed away.
“Does it look alright? I don’t know how it’s supposed to fit” You fussed with the hems and the folds trying to make them lay better. He grabbed your hand to make you stop fidgeting.
“You look great,” he said with a genuine smile. You smiled and nodded your appreciation.
You walked back to camp, making moneyless bets on what mood Thorin would be in when he returned.
As you approached Fili saw you in your new outfit and said, “Well look at this…” Making the rest of the company look at you too, “Our wee lass looks like a bona fide middle earther now!” They cheered at your near-complete indoctrination.
“Now she just needs to learn how to fight like one.” Bofur quipped from beside the fire.
“Then I wouldn’t need any of you to protect me!” You put the back of your hand to your forehead feigning a damsel in distress, making the company laugh. You sat on the ground beside the long chair Kili was now examining his weapons in and leaned against it. You held out a stone fish figurine to him.
“As a thank you for helping me” you cleared your throat “…And for being my friend.” You couldn’t meet his eyes, but you knew he was smiling a little around his reed pipe. He took it from your open hands. You know it wasn’t much but it’s all you could offer.
“Maybe one day you can return it to the ocean,” you said, referring to your previous conversation.
“Maybe I will,” he smiled down at you with genuine fondness.
“Bombur!” Bofur called before throwing a sausage to his cousin. The table, which took skilled elfin craftsman months, even years to craft and carve out of solid wood, collapsed under the massive weight of Bombur. Everyone erupted in laughter, it was nice to be part of the group and share in the merriment.
~~
Thorin stopped Balin on their way back to the camp, “We should leave her here,” He said, “She is a liability.”
Balin had a terrible sinking feeling in his round tummy when he thought of splitting you up.
“So what if she is, Thorin?” Balin said near pleading. “Have you ever seen your nephew that happy or open with a girl that quick before? I’ve never seen the lad so engaged in a conversation that didn’t have to do with weapons before last night. So what if she dies on our quest, at least we gave them a chance to happen, and if fate finds their pairing favorable it will all work out!” Balin was desperate to keep you and the young prince together if only to keep the sinking feeling at bay.
Thorin huffed, “Very well, but her blood is not on my hands,” He walked away and into the camp.
~~
Thorin and Balin returned, and the tone became slightly more serious—slightly. The company settled and laid their bedrolls in the grassy parts of the garden. You laid yours out as well and prepped for sleep by removing your shoes and coat. The night was warm enough that your blanket would suffice. You looked up at the stars wondering if any of the constellations were the same as back home. You cuddled your coat to your chest relishing the feel of the soft fabric. The low conversation between Fili and Kili, while they sat on watch across the fire, lulled you to sleep.
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Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
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stephofromcabin12 · 5 months ago
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I didn’t know that canonically Dionysus sometimes gets loose and presumably that’s when he has his kids. I always read it as his exile to camp was relatively “recent” in terms of him probably having been grounded in the like. Last few years before the story picks up. I had always assumed his current kids were born before that and so that also helps account for their low numbers (before Rick specified his stance on two being the best number of children or whatever that quote was from TOA)
Well, like most things we learn about Mr D in the books, it’s pretty subtle and mentioned like twice (bc Rick loves to torture me by adding lore and then not developing it further)
Before we look at that, we have to establish that, yes, his punishment seems to be recent. He’s given 100 years to be at camp, and in TLO he explains to Percy that Zeus cut his probation in half, leaving him with 50 years. Which would mean he had just begun his sentence in The Lightning Thief.
“[…] Zeus has cut my probation at that miserable camp in half. I now have only fifty years left instead of one hundred.” (The Last Olympian, p. 343)
But even so, there are a couple of ways he could have snuck out and had some kids.
Firstly, there’s the fact that the gods can be in multiple places at once, as explained by the wine dude himself in The Last Olympian:
“Your concern is touching. I did crash-land. Very painfully. {note: The gods feel pain…Interesting} In fact, part of me is still buried under a hundred feet of rubble in an abandoned coal mine. It will be several more hours before I have the strength to mend. But in the meantime, part of my conciousness is here […] Wherever there is a party, my prescence is invoked. Because of this, I can exist in many different places at once […]”
(The last Olympian, p. 266)
If we assume that gods at their full strength can exist more physically in multiple places, by dividing their “essence” or whatever, we can assume Dionysus would be able to sneak out by being present— seemingly automatically— wherever a party is happening.
It’s pretty much assumed (by me, I don’t think anyone else thinks about his exact whereabouts as much as I do lol) that he does this, or something else, because he is not gone very long in BOTL and TLO, and yet, in The Blood of Olympus, Dakota is seen talking to multiple Dionysus kids, which shouldn’t be possible, since yk. Pollux is the only camper (and should be in college by now but whatever, maybe he came back anyway or took a gap year, who knows) and even if he did take advantage of being away from camp in BOTL and TLO, his kids would be like, 2-3 at most and therefore not old enough to fight (I would certainly hope, although toddlers turning their enemies frantic and crazed is kinda metal ngl) So he must have had more kids before that….Or Rick forgot he killed Castor, which is hilariously possible.
“[…] Dakota shared Kool-Aid with the kids from the Dionysus cabin […]” (The Blood Of Olympus, p. 474)
(Stephanie Olive Overbaum canon confirmed. Its the only possible explanation lmao. If you have a Dio kid OC, you can’t prove they weren’t there. Huge win for the cabin 12 kids lmao)
So, he probably didn’t take advantage of his time away, if he did we wouldn’t know for another couple books, and Rick seems to have lost interest in ever elaborating on his character so we’ll probably never know.
Besides the splitting himself up theory, we have the possibility of him simply leaving lol.
He’s stuck at camp, yes, but the interesting thing is that he seems to be barred from entering Olympus, not so much that he’s barred from going anywhere else. He does leave camp in The Titan’s curse, seemingly without issues. Again, he could have split himself up, but since he’s able to make vines grow and all that, I’m assuming he was physically present. And he mentions paperwork in The Lightning Thief, if I remember correctly, so we can assume he has to file a report everytime he leaves his station to make sure he had a good enough reason to leave (Like a camper sneaking out, for example)
I don’t know how he would get around that one, but he’s sneaky, so I wouldn’t put it past him to sneak out and pretend to be doing something more important.
Of course, there are lines here and there suggesting he does leave every so often.
Ahem:
“As for Seymour, Mr D liberated him from a long island garage sale […]” (The Lost Hero, p. 88)
He couldn’t really have gone to a garage sale without leaving, again, yes he could have split himself up but that’s so easy and boring so I prefer to think he just fucks off and takes a day off here and there. It is a Long Island garage sale, so it’s not like he went far. Even funnier, we can imagine the camp went on another field trip and he came along, finding the garage sale along the way.
“[…] Our camp director, Dionysus, was recalled […]” (The Lost Hero, p. 20)
Ah yes, the recalled era. In HOO Mr D is not present, having been recalled to Olympus.
Technically, we don’t know where Mr D went in the time he was recalled, since we don’t know how exactly that period of time worked for the gods. We know they had no means of communicating, and that Zeus forbid the gods from seeking out their kids.
Even so, Aphrodite sneaks out and meets up with Piper. Athena/Minerva is out and about. Lots of the gods don’t hang around on Olympus the entire time. We’ve established Mr D is A. Sneaky (sneaks up on Percy more than once) and B. Doesn’t give any fucks that Zeus has told him to stay at camp (Garage sale) so I don’t think it’s unfair to assume he dipped and shrugged to Zeus like “I can’t help that I go where parties to🤷🏻‍♂️”
“Yeah but the gods had the headache thing going on, so he probably didn’t want to go anywhere”
I hear you say and you’re right BUT!
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In between The Blood Of Olympus and The Tower Of Nero, we have zero clue where Dionysus is, and what he’s up to. Like nothing. We don’t even talk about it. He’s just GONE.
“After the fight with Gaea, I thought Mr. D might return to camp, but he never did. I hope he’s alright.” (The Hidden Oracle, p. 129)
And then in The Tower Of Nero he shows up and nobody discusses where he went.
Can you tell I’m peeved? I’m peeved. Where the fuck was he, Rick?
I don’t even have a quote to show you because no one mentions it.
Hmpf. Anyway. Then we have the interesting tidbit that Dionysus thinks two is the perfect number of children, although it’s important to keep in mind that he thinks this after staying with the twins, which would’ve had to have happened before The Lightning Thief, when he’s already at camp.
So, perhaps in the time of him staying at camp, he simply doesn’t have any more kids, since he doesn’t want to be further outnumbered. (*In canon, in fanfiction anything is possible)
I can imagine a lot of the gods deciding to cut down on their amount of kids if they had to help raise them for a bit lol so that’s actually fair.
Anywho….I forget what we were talking about.
He probably just sneaks out or splits himself up lol
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randomalistic · 1 month ago
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first off. i can't believe that i already followed you- your spam blog -and didn't know.
second. i literally just had a dream shere i was rambling to someone about turbo using stuff from your essay. apparently it rewired my brain so hard it, and you, manifested in my dreams lol (i even made a bad joke that "you can say he's Turbo-tastic!" hah)
and congratulations on making such great work of art that is the essay, you can feel and hear the love(and hyperfixation) poured into it.
i do wonder tho, what was the hardest part when making it?
I’m so glad you enjoyed it yay :)❤️ and also recognized me from my sneo blog LOL
I feel that so horrendously much. I legit had a dream a few nights ago about someone APPROACHING ME cuz they recognized my voice from the essay (girl get an ego check) but they then said “dude it’s so obvious you’re into him” or something. And I was like. 🧍‍♀️Well you don’t have to say it out loud
Anyways you’re not the only one cuz the video haunts me too. even after its birth.
The hardest part?? Oh Man. Can I say Everything.
There were a few stretches that were REALLY TOUGH. short answer: Entire first half of the video. Also the longer parts like the Manipulation section, Turbo reveal section, and the Cybug King Candy section. I had a lot to say for these and it was tricky to condense it into something Comprehensible
Long answer:
I completely overhauled the entire first half of the video (EVERYTHING before the kart breaking scene) because I wasn’t satisfied with the writing/delivery etc. (Which was a good choice because my arguments were pretty half baked before) but oh my god that was like a week and a half of 7 hour recording and rewriting sessions it was brutal. Especially annoying because those arguments were super old and I was getting sick of thinking about them. So instead I used them as a backbone to structure better arguments and revamp the script so that kept me from going insane. However it was also really fun because I got to see my old ass arguments finally be explained to their fullest capacity. And also I got to write shit like ☝️🤓Excuse me sir your turbo is showing..
The biggest issue with this being my first ever video essay and it taking so goddamn long: you could SEE my writing/editing/voicing skills improve over the span of the video itself. Which is really cool improvement wise but REALLY . REALLY BAD CONSISTENCY WISE. Like the first half of the video is the part people are gonna see first. It SETS EXPECTATIONS. IT HAS TO BE PEAK
I think I re-edited the synopsis upwards of 5-6 times. Which makes sense as that was like the first thing I started the project with but ouhvhhhgghghr. Making a section from scratch is WAY easier than going back and having to redo something
Early on I cut out an entire fully edited/scripted/recorded 3 minute section of me talking about Megamind and its sequel because I realized. This is pointless and everyone has TALKED ABOUT MEGAMIND BEFORE AND THIS HAS NOTHIBG TO DO WITH WRECK IT RALPH. There were a lot of scrapped ideas
Audio was also really challenging, just entirely. Making sure the levels were consistent (I had absolutely zero voice volume normalization I did it all manually 😭 I’m gonna have to figure out how to do that) Also just the concept of recording my voice and having to speak out loud in a space was Real Bad for my anxiety but You Do it Scared. Had to wait until I was home alone or like 99% sure I was alone before I could say anything without worrying. Also training my voice to sound engaging and consistent was so hard and it took maybe 6 months for me to get it down. Also I had no fucking idea where to record, like at first I was recording in a CLOSET (and later under a piano??) and then I was wondering why my lines sounded so weird. Then I realized I could just Record in a room and it would sound JUST FINE. So basically uhhh every single part was the hardest part. But it was worth it and very fun I think 🫶
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girlboybug · 1 year ago
Text
Crush
"he looks like he works with his hands, and smells like marlboro reds."
what's playing 🎧: crush by ethel cain
pairing : bfd!joel x reader (no outbreak au)
word count : 14k (oops)
*unedited*
CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, age gap, heavy petting, grinding, fingering, handjobs, references to m!masturbation, unprotected sex, creampies, light dirty talk, riding, soft dom!joel, but also switch coded joel if u squint, slight angst kinda sorta
TRIGGER WARNINGS : lowkey dubcon just bc of the power imbalance that comes with the age gap but everything is consensual as always. joel knew the reader when they were 4, 16 years have passed so now they're 20! brief mentions of messy home life and brief descriptions of verbal sexual harassment
A/N : i've been dying to write bfd!joel, and when i heard crush i knew what i had to do lolol. so sorry this took ages, it wasn't supposed to be this long but here we are lol. i hope you guys enjoy <3 comments really motivate me, so if you liked it plz lmk in the comments :3
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your eyes continually drift over to the time glowing in the corner of the screen on your register, wondering when joel was supposed to swing by. you pray that he hasn’t forgotten his promise to your dad of checking out your air conditioner to see what needs to be repaired.
the tiny fan that sits beside your half drinken water bottle does little to nothing, and it only adds insult to injury. 
you think back to last night at dinner, in your air conditioned home, about the ‘exciting’ news your dad had to share. he rattled on about how he ran into an old college buddy and family friend, joel miller down at the pro bass shop—and of course it was at the pro bass shop. 
after a few jogs of your slightly depleting memory, you finally, somewhat, remembered a face to the name. you vaguely joined in with your parents’ reminiscing of how he used to come over with his little girl sarah for play dates, and occasionally babysitting you when your parents went out on their date nights. 
they also were quick to tease you about your little crush on him, one you swear you can’t remember, which in your defense, you really don’t, and desperate to change the subject, you asked about his wife, which only worsened the allegations of your crush on him. 
“goin through a divorce, it’s actually why he moved back here, but i’m sure you’re happy to hear that,” your dad snickered with a little nudge, and you wanted to bury your face in the steaming mashed potatoes on your plate. 
once you managed to wrangle them out of the conversation of your alleged feelings towards the man you barely remembered, it was briefly mentioned that he’d be coming by today to check out your broken down air conditioner at the store your parents owned and operated. 
you’re the cashier there, unwillingly of course, but it helps pay for your very expensive books you need for your classes, so it’s not a total issue. however, as you blanky look around the empty sweltering convenience store, you honestly consider closing up early and ubering home to soak in a nice, cold shower. 
the bell that hangs from the door rings at the front entrance, but you’re too tired and worn down by the heat to say your usual greeting, instead deciding to just remain slumped in your small wooden stool, aimlessly trying to angle your mini fan at the most optimal point of your face. 
your peripheral view catches a navy blue hued shirt, and your head lifts upwards to get a better look in case it’s a customer. 
your eyes fall onto an older man smiling down at you, crossed arms bulging from behind his short sleeves. something bubbles in the very pit of your stomach. “mr. miller?” you ask, slightly unsure, but he nods, chuckling when his arms drop to his sides. “heya hun, it’s been awhile, how are you?” he leans in for a hug, and you suddenly don’t feel the sweat that’s been stuck to your skin for the past three hours as you rise to your feet and off the stool to meet his arms that come around your waist. you manage to stutter a response of, “i’m good, and you?” 
“doin’ alright,” he says through a grin– oh god, his grin is so pretty, you think you almost see a cartoonish sparkle glint in his teeth from the fluorescent lighting.
your stomach bubbles up the more you take him in, and oh no. the worst possible thing just came to fruition.
your parents were actually right. 
he pulls back, hands still on the backs of your arms as he takes a moment to really look at you. “you’re so grown up now honey, i remember when you were just this big,” he holds a hand just below his hip and you join in his light laughter, feeling those fluttery feelings you felt all those years ago rush to your chest and tummy like a dormant volcano erupting. 
he hasn’t aged a bit, maybe a few more wrinkles here and there, and the crows feet beside his eyes deepen more now when he smiles, along with the grays that take the place of where some strands of brown used to be. but he’s just as beautiful as your fuzzy memories, if not more. 
“y-you look exactly the same,” you chuckle nervously, trying to not give in to the magnetic pull tempting your eyes in the direction of his chest and abdomen. he grows a little bashful, glancing away for a moment before he replies, a little pinker in the cheeks than before. “i definitely don’t weigh the same, sweetheart,” he sighs playfully, patting his stomach. 
you hear the traces of slight disappointment in his words and it saddens you. you shake your head, feeling even warmer under the heavy feeling from his eyes blanketing over you while you frown ever so slightly. “i think you look great.” you say truthfully, feeling nervous as soon as the words part from you, worried he might think you’re too forward, but instead he smiles again, looking down at his boots. 
“you’re too kind.” he grins, looking back up at you, his fingers running along the side of his beard. you feel flushed, glancing away from his smiles. 
“goddamn, it is hot in here,” he pinches at his shirt, pulling it back and forth to get a slight breeze. you nod vigorously, plopping back into your stool, fanning yourself once more. “i can show you were the ac’s at,” you offer, and he agrees. 
you guide him to the useless machine, eyeing it down with an irritated look, as if it were alive, and purposefully broken down to spite you. 
he walks over to it, bending down to its level and you balance on your heels awkwardly, overthinking on if it’s the correct social etiquette to say anything right now. 
“hmm, lemme get my belt from the truck, i’ll be back hun,” he nods at you, sending you a smile before he disappears out the store and back to his truck. 
when you’re sure he’s out of view, you curl in on yourself, holding your face and opening your mouth to let out a silent scream. 
all it took was seeing him for two seconds, for a crush you didn’t even remember existed until last night to come back immediately. 
when he returns, he sends you a smile before he goes right to work, setting up shop beside the air conditioner, toolbelt wrapped around the alluring circumference of his waist. 
you imagine what it’d be like if it were your hands instead of the worn down leather that envelops him, how his skin would feel in your palms and jesus, you are being so creepy right now. 
he talks while he works, listing about all the things wrong with the ac, jokingly calling your dad a cheapskate for not being willing enough to upgrade to a functioning one that wasn’t manufactured before you were born. and of course, you laugh, leaning against a counter, hoping he just so happens to turn to the side to spare you a glance and notice that you look effortlessly sexy. 
he mainly keeps his focus on the task at hand but, you keep hoping he turns to look over at you at some point. 
no customers have come in yet, and for once you are eternally grateful for a slow day. 
your eyes trail from his biceps, down to his strong forearms, they look safe, secure, like they could hold you and keep you locked in, and his hands…god his hands. 
they’re long, and big. his wide palms that splay across the side of the ac make the machine somehow look small in comparison. his fingers are so skillful, prodding and working at the screws and confusing bits you didn’t even know were a part of the contraption — but honestly the mechanisms of the ac are not what you care about right now. 
you care about how it would feel if it were your sides, your hips, being touched and caressed instead of the machine, and how his big strong hands could hold onto them, grip them, squeeze them tight like a real man would. 
you notice the way he swipes his forearm across his forehead, clearing away the sweat that beads over the skin, feeling bad that he’s doing so much manual labor in such terrible conditions. 
you depart from your shared space for a moment, padding towards the refrigerators stocked full of drinks. 
you return to him, tapping his shoulder and smiling brightly when he looks at you, eyes darting down to the cold root beer in your hands. “for you. least i can offer while you work,” you beam and he chuckles, switching some weight onto his left foot, his hand resting on his hip when he graciously takes the bottle from you. 
“well thank you hun,” he tips his head at you, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig. 
you watch the way his lips curl around the rim, how his hand just about swallows the entire bottle and the way his adam’s apple bobs while he drinks. you have to fight back the urge to squeeze your thighs together to alleviate the tingly feeling spreading inside you. 
“how’d you remember i like root beer?” he asks, eyes peering at you with a warm surprise, his fingers twisting the screwdriver into the side of the ac. 
you hop up onto the counter beside him, swinging your legs while you shrug. “just randomly came to mind i guess,” he turns to look at you, taking note of the way his eyes land on your bare legs first before they flicker back up to your eyes. you feel a little cocky about that. 
“always were a helpful girl,” he says, and you just about glow at his little compliment, folding a leg over the other while you rest on your palms, trying to hide how big your smile grows. 
“thank you,” you say quieter, shyer than you mean to. 
you two converse a bit longer, and you decide to sneakily flip the open sign to closed in the window while you listen to his responses. 
the topic of college is brought up, and you respond to his questions about how it’s going, what you’re majoring in, and you answer, creative writing, feeling flushed when he pauses his work to smile at you. 
“an’ you know what, you always were a storyteller when you were young, i bet you’ve only gotten better since,” he says wistfully, fondly imagining you typing away and creating stories he’d happily read all about. 
he’s not a big reader, but for you? he could be. 
when he finishes up, he calls you over, turning the knob on high and watching as the ac releases what sounds like a guttural groan before a gust of icy air greets your bare arms. 
you gasp and squeal in delight over no longer being slowly cooked to death in your parent’s mini mart.
“thank you mr. miller you’re literally the best,” you gush and he waves you off, gathering his tools as he nears the register. 
“ahh don’t worry ‘bout it. i’m happy to do it. ‘specially if ya had anyone else do it for you, i know you’d get charged damn near an arm and a leg,” he rests his hands on the counter and your eyes trace over his long fingers while you make your way beside him. you feel giddy when you notice the tan line on his ring finger. 
a reminder of the fact that he’s single now. 
you just nod, holding back from saying something along the lines of how you’d be more than happy to pay him for this service with a…different kind of service of your own in return. 
“so how much was the root beer hun?” he asks, flicking through the bills in his wallet. you immediately shake your head, ignoring his protests of accepting a free drink. 
“no that was on the house mr. miller, i will not take your money,” you say stubbornly and he squints at you, huffing in defeat. “you sure? don’t want you gettin’ in trouble with your folks if they find out you’re out here givin things away for free now,” his hands settle on his hips and he gives you a playfully testing look, still managing to cause a flurry of emotions to ripple inside your lower tummy. 
“who’s gonna tell them?” you counter, voice lowering just a little, eyes following in suit as you stare up at him. 
his soft chuckle fades between his parted lips at the shift in your demeanor. his jaw comes down for a second before his lips curl to the side. “alright, thank you sweetpea,” he concedes just an octave above a murmur. 
“is there anything else you wanted to get? because in all seriousness, they’d probably get more upset at me for actually charging you instead of just letting you have it for free.” you say truthfully, feeling positive that your dad wouldn’t mind joel taking a few things home free of charge. 
he holds out that big hand of his, chuckling when his gaze shifts to the ground before it rests back over on you. “nah s’alright hun, root beer was already mighty gracious of you,” but you’re not buying it, you head behind the register, arms extending along the expanse of the wall of products, pretending to sell the items like you’re showcasing the prizes on a game show. 
“you suuure? anything you want, completely free,” you offer temptingly and his lips collect themselves to the side of his mouth, chuckling mutedly, a little shake of his head as he watches you. 
“alright,” he leans forward, and you feel your throat get a little tight at his ministrations, suddenly noticing the slight glimmer of a chain hidden beneath his shirt. 
“can you get me that pack of marlboro reds behind you hun?” he points at the carton of cigarettes, and for some reason his request makes your stomach get tight. 
you think back to how not even a day ago you rambled about your visceral dislike for boys, discarding them as a waste of time — but joel isn’t a boy. he’s a man, and may the version of yourself who existed moments before he came in, forgive you for being a melted pile of hypocritical mush he’s managed to turn you into in the span of less than two hours. 
you can hear your mother’s scoff in your head as you find yourself feeling giggly at his choice of a freebie. it’s just so. manly. 
he’s so manly. 
you hand him the carton and he pockets it, not before taking a cigarette out, deciding to indulge early. “thank you sweetpea,” he smiles, cigarette already being placed between his lips. 
“no problem,” you nod with a grin. he eyes the closed sign before he looks at you once more with a knowing smirk. “closing early i see,” he pointedly nods at the sign and you shrug with a sheepish little smile, neither confirming nor denying the notion. 
“lemme guess—folks won’t mind? and would actually be more upset if you didn’t close up early?” he teases, and it almost feels like flirting. you decide to tell yourself it is. so you play along, rolling your eyes and waving your hand dismissively with an equally teasing ha. ha. ha laugh. 
“it’s been a slow day, so no, they actually won’t mind, for your information,” you fold your arms, wriggling your face blithely. he chuckles, lighting his cigarette, taking a drag before he continues. “d’you need a ride home then hun?” he asks, genuinely offering and you have to forcibly give yourself a moment to pause before immediately yelling an overly enthusiastic YES PLEASE. 
“are you sure? you’ve already done a lot for me today,” you act a little bashful, mostly because you are, but you also are attempting to hide the excitement bubbling inside you at the thought of being alone with him in his truck. 
he shakes his head, exhaling the smoke from his lips silently, unknowingly entrancing you. “ts’ not a problem at all, cmon,” he motions his head towards the door and you trail along like a lost puppy.  
you lock up the door behind you before you’re greeted by the sight of joel holding the passenger seat open for you. 
your face gets hotter than it was before he fixed the ac at the sight of his chivalry, pretending to curtsy with your invisible dress before you climb into his truck, mumbling a shy thank you, as he safely closes the door behind you. 
he hops in, and you read your address out for him as he turns the keys in the ignition. 
it’s a little silent for awhile, but it’s okay, you’re content stealing glances at him, hiding behind the fist that supports the weight of your tilted head, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your eyes cast over him adoringly. 
he’s so beautiful. you definitely had taste as a kid. 
he even looks strong, and not in an annoying machismo way, but in a natural, humble way. a kind way. 
you want to touch his broad shoulders, kiss your way down his biceps to his forearms and down to each and every finger of his. you want to kiss away all the callouses and take care of him the way he deserves. 
you can’t believe you’re daydreaming about him in such a way right in front of him, especially since it’s the first time you’ve seen him in about 16 years and this is how you react. 
oh well. 
the contrast of grey in his soft looking brown hair is so complementary, you hope he hasn’t turned into one of those guys that put dye over it, because frankly you think the natural look suits him quite well. 
you drift your stares down to his strong hooked nose, admiring how charming it is. you want to trace your finger tip down the slope of it, and uh oh he’s looking at you. 
you can’t be too obvious in your actions, despite the fact that you already are, so you just smile instead of whipping your head around in the opposite direction like you wish you could. “can i try?” you ask, motioning towards his cigarette, trying to play off the situation as to not expose the real reason why you were staring. 
he just chuckles under his breath, his smile lingering when he turns to look back at the road. “that’s ahh, not really a good habit you wanna get yourself into sweetpea.” he says with a small shake of his head. 
you almost give up right there, but you decide to push just a little further. “it won’t be a habit, i just wanna see the appeal is all,” you turn in the seat to fully face him, smile growing when he leans his head towards you in a jokingly exasperated tilt. he says your name warningly, and you deflate for a moment, worried he may actually be annoyed with you. 
you don’t say anything else and he notices, feeling bad at your silence. he sighs with guilt, wanting to remedy the incorrect thoughts you have of him being upset at you as he hands you the cigarette. you instantly perk, taking it into your own fingers. “careful now. you might choke, waters right there in the cup holder if it burns. don’t inhale it too long,” he instructs, watching you from the corner of his eyes to make sure you don’t hurt yourself. 
you wave away his worries, placing the stick between your lips, feeling warm all over when you get a thought that says it’s kind of like we just kissed through the cigarette. 
you inhale, hold it in for a few passing seconds before you’re proving his warnings correct, coughing loudly and not flatteringly whatsoever. 
you try to face away from him, your eyes beginning to water and your throat burning worse than when you smoked from a very suspicious wax pen. the last thing you wanted was for him to see you like this. 
he brings a hand behind your back, rubbing it soothingly as he sighs to himself, feeling a tinge of guilt for letting you smoke. 
“easy honey easy, drink some water,” he hands you the bottle of water and you down it, blinking away your tears as you hand him back his cigarette. “that was so embarrassing i’m so sorry,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. 
“s’alright honey, least now i bet you really won’t wanna make this a habit now right?” he asks, hoping you confirm your aversion to cigarettes. you instead choose to tease him a little, humming a contradictory response to his question. he squints at you and you giggle. “i dunno, might have to try again so i can really make sure.” 
he taps the ashes out the window, laughing at your reply. “you’re gonna get me in trouble with your dad there hun f’he finds out i turned his daughter into a little chain smoker,” 
you slide your hands under your thighs, watching him for a moment before you speak. “i won’t tell if you don’t,” you repeat yourself from earlier, alluding to something else, hoping he reads your mind and understands your allusions. 
he purses his lips in a slight upward furl, looking at you once he’s reached a red light. “someone’s gotten a whole lot sneakier since the last time i saw her,” you laugh, leaning into the headrest while you look at him. “a lots changed since,” you say, voice falling quietly and he holds your stare, his eyes betraying him by clearly darting down to your lips. the red light switches back to green, forcing him to look away from you. 
your chest bloomed at the way he looked at you in that moment, unsure if you’re delusional in even considering the possibility he maybe could reciprocate the attraction you’re feeling. but a little delusion never hurt anyone anyways. 
“it sure has,” he agrees, the corner of his eyes taking in your figure once more. 
but he shakes the thought from his head, almost rebuking it and instead deciding to change the subject. “can’t fault you too much though. sarah’s the same way sometimes,” he says through a chuckle that sounds nervous — did you make him nervous? 
again, you tell yourself you did. 
you sit up straight at the mention of sarah, visibly growing excited. “oh my god sarah, how is she? it’s been so long, i’m sure she doesn’t remember me,” blurred memories of playing with plastic makeup sets, and real makeup you two ‘borrowed’ from her mom, replay in your mind at the mention of her. 
he shakes his head, disagreeing at your slightly saddened thought of being forgotten by sarah. “she’s good, she’s in school just like yourself, and she does remember you hun! matter a fact, she’s home right now, if you’d like, you can come over for dinner and catch up with her,” you clap your hands together excitedly, nodding happily at his suggestion. 
“yes! that sounds amazing, i would love to!” you accept and he smiles at the thought of his two girls sitting together talking at the dinner table. 
“i’m sure she’s gonna lose her mind when she sees you,” he squeezes your knee and you go still, frozen in place when you feel the heat from his palm radiate into your skin. 
his touch is gone too soon, you want to hold his wrist and keep him there, but you pretend his fleeting touch doesn’t affect you as strongly as it actually does. 
the heat from his skin has become yours and you cradle it, pretending you’re not beaming in his passenger seat from it while he talks. 
“i’m kinda nervous, it’s been so long,” you say, pressing the backs of your fingers to your cheeks and feeling the warmth of nervousness flush to the surface of your face. 
“don’t be sweetpea, nothin to be nervous about, i promise,” he comforts your nerves with a soft voice, and you allow it to cushion you. 
joel was right about two things. 
you really did have nothing to worry about, you and sarah clicked right away as if no time had passed. she squealed when she saw you, racing towards you and enveloping you in a tight hug, rambling about how she’s missed you so much. it felt good to know you were never forgotten in her mind. 
he was also right about sarah being sneaky. 
or rather ‘persuasive’ and ‘just so happens to forget to mention certain things’ as she would put it. 
she managed to convince both joel (which didn’t take much convincing to begin with) and your dad to let you sleep over, which you were ecstatic about for obvious reasons but also because she saved you from having to scramble for a reason as to why you closed up the shop early. 
you’re in her bed now, sitting behind her while you help gather her hair into her baby pink bonnet, talking about anything and everything there is to talk about. while also getting ready to sleep off the high from the wax pen she has hidden under her pillow. 
“i can’t believe you’re really here with me right now,” she grins as you move back in front of her, leaning into her opening arms. 
“i know, me too, it’s been so long,” you hum, rubbing her shoulders. “i’m kidnapping you by the way, this was all just an elaborate scheme to lure you in.” she mentions casually and you laugh, falling back into her bed with her while you rest your head on her shoulder. 
“fine by me,” you say, and you mean it, but you don’t add that in.
“i’m happy you’re here,” she whispers, her nose scrunching up against yours. you smile, holding your forehead to hers. “i am too.” 
“are you busy tomorrow?” she asks, pulling the blankets over your bodies. you shake your head, curling under the covers. “nah, we’re closed tomorrow at the store and i don’t have school that day,” you say, feeling pure adoration as you watch sarah’s smile grow the more she listens to you talk. 
“why don’t we spend the day together then! my dad’s gonna be at work so we’ll have the house to ourselves,” she whispers as all the excitement from the day starts to add weight into your bones, easing you both into rest. 
you nod and smile sleepily, leaning into her arm that drapes over your side. “okay, i’ll call my dad tomorrow,” you yawn and she closes her eyes at that, content by your answer. 
— 
it’s 3am. you should not be awake. but you are, and you’re looking over at sarah, wishing you were fast asleep like she is. you carefully peel yourself out of her arms, gently covering her with the blankets before you pad out of her room and down into the kitchen for some water. 
you tiptoe down the stairs, your heart sinking nervously right into a tight spot inside your stomach when you see the fridge door agape, with a broad back sticking out of it, also in search of something to drink. 
joel rises and turns to see your stilled figure standing awkwardly, staring forward like you’ve just gotten caught stealing. 
he chuckles, scratching a few lazy fingers down his stubble when he shuts the fridge. “what’re you doin up sweetpea?” he asks, and oh god his voice is nice and gravely, a rasp from the depths of sleep that he evades every night careens around your ears and you nearly fold at the knees. 
“just uh, randomly woke up and i couldn’t go back to bed. was just gonna get some water, sorry,” you sound meek and joel shakes his head, and walks closer. you panic a little. it’s a good panic. 
“nuthin’ to be sorry about hun, i’ll getchu some water,” he holds your arm, smiling softly down at you, nodding at you for confirmation. once again his touch abandons the skin of your upper arm when he leaves to fetch a cup for your water. 
your hand graces the skin he touched as you watch him pour you water. he hands it to you, and you thank him quietly, taking a sip from the old plastic disney princess cup he picked out for you. 
“so what woke you up? you feelin’ alright?” he murmurs, coming in close again to press the back of his hand to your forehead. you weren’t overheating until he decided to do that. 
you swallow hard, shaking your head beneath his hand. “n-no no—well i mean yes, yes i’m-i’m okay, i just wake up randomly at odd hours of the night for some reason sometimes,” you say hushedly, afraid to disturb the peaceful silence the night brings. 
he nods understandingly, withdrawing his hand from your face and you want to tell him he can keep it there, but you mentally digress. 
“happens to me too,” he sighs, visibly tired with a hand lazily running down his stubble. “sorry you’re goin’ through it too then hun,” his thumb runs a small circle over your shoulder comfortingly and your body molds around the curve of his fingers. 
“it’s okay,” you mumble shyly and he smiles softly, his touch stalling on yours before it drops back to his side. the air that fills the quiet kitchen turns into something warm and calming when it floats between your tired bodies, and it feels nice. feels domestic. soft smiles mirror each other on your faces and you look away, unable to handle the weight of his stare. 
“so, do you um…do anything that helps you fall asleep?” you ask curiously, mostly just trying to make conversation to keep him tethered to you, even for just a moment longer. 
he scratches his scruffy beard and sighs, nodding like he’s somewhat ashamed to admit. you grow curiouser, deciding to test the waters and inch in just the tiniest bit closer. “and what do you do?” you question through a whisper. 
“i smoke,” he responds just as hushed and you chuckle. “sounds like you’ve got a bad habit.” you prod, lightly teasing and he takes the playful jab, chuckling along with you. 
“well, we’ve all got our vices,” he smiles at you in a way that's playfully guilty, and you roll your eyes with the same playfulness before speaking again. “was i stopping you from taking a smoke?” you ask, and he shakes his head, denying the notion. “no no, and if you were it’d probably be for the best,” he shrugs and you grin. an idea occurs in your mind. 
“can i smoke with you again?” you ask bravely and the volume in his laugh rises before he’s silencing himself so as to not wake sarah. 
“ain’t happenin’, shouldn’t have even happened the first time,” he immediately shoots down your request but you have a sneaking suspicion you’ll wear him down. 
“but you said it helps you go to sleep,” you counter with a pout and he sighs with faux exasperation. 
“hun,” he says warningly again, eyeing you in a way that pins you where you stand. “first time seein’ you in what? 15 to 16 years and i’m already becomin’ a bad influence on you.” he says amusedly, his fingers dipping into the pocket of his plaid pajama bottoms, tracing over the curve of the loose cigarettes that await him. 
“it’s not like you’re giving me hard drugs mr. miller,” you say, tilting a shoulder at him persuasively. his eyes trace over your face for a few passing seconds, taking in the way you look back at him before he decides what to do next.
“last time, understand? just to help you sleep.” he says, but it sounds like he’s more so reminding himself than he is you. 
“okay,” you smile, following him to the loveseat that faces the window, and you assume this is where he usually smokes. 
he cracks open the window, and sits down into the plump cushion, leaning against the very texan quilt that drapes over the seat. you sit down on the arm of the seat, stretching your legs above his knees, the closeness in proximity feels so personal, and you want to live the rest of your life in this quiet and intimate hour with joel. 
he hands you a cigarette, watching you put it between your lips, his available hand straying off to the side to grab the lighter that’s on the tray beside the loveseat. 
he flicks the lighter on and your faces become illuminated by the small flickering flame. he looks beautiful as he carefully lights the end of it, his eyes on the bud of it while your’s memorize each and every wrinkle that crinkles around his eyes. 
“inhale, careful now,” his words of concern blanket over you and pave a smooth passageway for the smoke to enter into your lungs, successfully preventing you from breaking out into another coughing fit. 
you inhale, and keep it before you fan it out the window. he smiles and pats your ankle that rests beside his lap. “there ya go,” he nods the crown of his head at you proudly. you bow humbly, handing him the cigarette. 
“feels nice. makes me feel warm,” you mumble tiredly, watching the way he takes a drag effortlessly. “don’t get too used to it now,” he chides, words shadowed amidst the mist of his smoke. 
“i won’t,” you reply with a knowing smile as he goes to hands it back to you. he pulls his hand that holds the cigarette back, eyeing you. he says your name in that tone and you wave him off, taking the cigarette from his fingers. “kidding,” you remedy his worries of your possible nicotine addiction in the nearby future, inhaling another drag.
you two go back and forth like this for awhile, until the cigarette becomes an unrecognizable little stub,
“feel sleepy yet?” he exhales through a fanning breath, and you nod, watching him flatten the bud into the ashtray beside his side of the armrest. 
“good,” he yawns, lazily running a hand across the side of his beard. “got a long day tomorrow — or today technically, an’ so do you little miss, try an’ get some rest.” he drawls softly, sleepily, and you nod your tired head at his words, free falling into them. 
“goodnight sweetpea,” he says with a gentle finality, leaning in to hold you by the back of your head, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. you crumble into his touch, shutting your eyes as if to fossilize yourself in the moment. 
“goodnight,” you whisper, feeling cold when he pulls away. you wish you had thought of something more to say, anything at all that would’ve kept him in your presence for just a little longer, but now you’re stuck sitting alone in the living room, watching his broad back ascend up the stairs, wishing you were trailing behind him, with your hand in his. 
you finish the rest of your water before you’re trudging back up the stairs, the weight of exhaustion lowering its heft onto your shoulders with each step upwards. 
and as you crawl back into bed with sarah, despite the attempts to push the thoughts away, all you can think about are the ways in which her father could tire you out until you fell asleep.
___ 
after that day, the miller household practically became your second home. more often than not showing up to their house rather than your own after school and work. 
at first you were worried that maybe you were beginning to overstay your welcome, that maybe they just didn’t know how to tell you to stop coming over so often. but they quickly put those insecurities to rest when sarah called you wondering why you hadn’t shown up after work, saying how joel set a plate for you at the table and it was getting cold. 
they were just as attached to you as you were to them. 
they really loved having you over, loved getting to make up for all those years you all went without each other, taking the time to relearn everything there is to know about the other. 
for instance, joel learned you have an affinity for tight tank tops that ride a little too low on your chest and rise a little too high whenever you bend down. 
his fingers have a tendency to straighten out your spaghetti straps, and he always murmurs something along the lines of, showin a lotta skin today huh hun? 
you’d grow warm under his touch, hiding behind a pretty grin and an excuse of oh, heat’s just gettin’ to me lately, or his personal favorite,  damn dryer shrunk my clothes again. 
he doesn’t mind whatever your excuse is, he’d just hand you his flannel, telling you to at least wrap it around your waist whenever guys were around, because i know how men think, he’d explain and you wouldn’t argue, you’d happily accept his flannel and listen to his heeding. 
you wonder if he was having the same thoughts he was trying to prevent other men from having about you. 
you like to tell yourself he was. 
but there is one thing you don’t have to convince yourself of. joel really, truly, and utterly cares for you. 
joel is nothing if not protective, he just wants to look out for you, make sure you’re safe, that you’re okay, and so when you called him at work, voice trembling and meekly asking if he can pick you up, naturally, he abandoned his meeting at work to race over to you. 
creating blueprints for a new apartment building suddenly became unimportant the second he heard your voice crack over the phone.  
he could hear the way your breath paused for a moment, only to come out shakily through tears when he asked if you were alright. your audible sadness casted immediate worry and concern over him, instilling itself in his chest. 
he sees you now, rushing to walk out of the store, locking it on your way out, and he hops out of his truck, wanting to be the first thing you’re greeted by as soon as you raise your head. 
relief rinses through you the moment you see joel standing in front of his truck, your eyes betraying the attempt at strength you were fighting so hard to have the second he pulls you into his arms. 
his hands feel warm and heavy behind your back, rubbing all the quiet sobs out from you with each gentle circular movement. 
“oh babygirl,” he murmurs under his breath, feeling his heart break with each little gasp you make through your tears. “what happened?” he asks, unintentionally causing the tears to fall harder, making you fist at his button up. 
“today has been so bad,” you finally say, your head resting on his strong chest, shaking fingers tracing over the seams of his button up in an attempt at self soothing. 
“wanna get inside an’ talk about it?” he asks just above a whisper, keeping his voice soft for you. you nod, twisting the knife in his chest when you sniffle. 
he helps you into his truck, shutting the door behind you, meeting back with you soon once he’s in the driver’s seat. 
“now what happened honey?” he asks, and you take in a deep breath through the tears, waving your hands at your eyes to try and stop the stinging sensation at your waterline. 
“today has just been one bad thing after the other,” you wipe away the stray tears with annoyed fists, wishing they would cease their incessant presence. “first, i got into a fight with my dad, he called me selfish and inconsiderate for not canceling class to come down to the shop earlier and that there’s no point in attending class because i’m just gonna get overwhelmed and quit anyway,” you barely manage to say tearfully, further etching a frown into joel’s features, his chest aching at the way you’re visibly hurting. 
he says your name tenderly, matching the way his hand reaches out for you to hold. you squeeze his hand, holding onto it when it rises upwards to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping a stray tear across your cheekbone. 
you lean into his palm, shutting your eyes at his touch. “and i’m scared he’s right, today in class i was so stressed all i wanted to do was walk out,” you whimper ashamedly, and joel shushes you, bringing his free hand to fully hold your face, turning your gaze back up to meet his. his hold on you is delicate, like you’re a dandelion amidst a strong breeze, and all he wants to do is keep you with him, safe and sound. 
your cheeks are cradled by his hands, his calluses turning into a thing of comfort against your cheeks, along with his thumbs that swipe away the tears that refuse to concede from your lash line. 
he holds you like this for a while, wordlessly guiding your breathing with his, evening out your sporadic hiccups induced by your crying, settling your nerves down to a more manageable level. 
your eyes flutter shut at the safety he drapes over you, your smaller hands holding onto his wrists, mindlessly running your thumb along his knuckles. “wish you were with me at work today,” you mumble, imagining the way he would’ve protected you from the creepy customers you had to deal with. 
“what else happened?” he lightly coaxes it out of you, wanting you to get everything out so you don’t have to carry the burden of the day’s stress on your shoulders. 
“these guys came in, and they were just so weird,” your hands tighten around his wrists, recounting the uncomfortable interaction you were subjected to. 
“kept…kept making weird jokes about everything…i said if they needed anything to let me know and i heard one of them tell their friend i better be careful saying things like that, and they like—ugh,” you take a moment to catch your breath, refocusing on the way joel’s gently running his fingers across your temples, something he’d do for you in the middle of the night whenever you’d get a headache. 
“they kept making jokes about me taking off my clothes because it’s summer and it’s hot or whatever i dunno it was stupid but they kept ‘suggesting’ i should lose the tank top because walking around in a bra is the same as wearing s bikini at the beach,” you grimace at the fresh memory, and joel wants to take it away from you, wants to wash you clean of all the pain you felt today. 
when you look up at joel his jaw is clenched, lower jaw jutting out in anger, his hands falling from your face down to your hands, holding them in his, while he shakes his head. “fuckin’ disgusting,” he mutters to himself. “probably good i wan’t there, woulda fuckin’ killed them,” he utters under his breath, and more so to himself, his hands migrating down to your hands, squeezing them hard. his eyes that hold an image of what he’d do to the men who harassed you dissipate as soon as they shift back up to you. “i’m sorry hun,” he sighs, cupping your cheek, cradling you into his palm, speaking gentler this time, “an’ as for your dad well…he’s an asshole. but i know you already know that,” he pauses to smile at your little giggle. 
“he couldn’t be more wrong about you. you are so smart hun, an’ you can and will accomplish everything you set your mind to.” the soft gravel of his voice tides around you like an embrace, enveloping you in it as an attempt to wash you clean of your distress. 
your eyes well and your heart soars up high inside your chest at his kindness. 
“thank you mr. miller, you are so nice to me, it—it means so much coming from you, and i can’t even begin to explain how grateful i am that you even came here at all,” he left work for you. you groan with guilt at the remembrance. “and—god i’m so sorry that i just like, randomly called you at work i’m so sorry you were probably super busy, i just didn’t know who else to go to,” you ramble with guilt, but joel’s already shaking his head as you rattle off with apologies, his hands coming back up to your cheeks, stilling the words on your tongue. 
“hey hey hey,” he shushes you softly. “no apologies, okay?” his thumb runs under your lash line, clearing away your tears. “i’m glad you called me, rather you call me than have to hear what happened from someone else.” he pacifies your guilt for calling him, and he does it successfully, watching the upset furrow between your brows disappear. 
your lip trembles and you suck it in between your teeth, closing your eyes and leaning forward into his chest. he takes you in with no hesitation, his arms forever acting as a sanctity for you to hide in whenever you need. 
he hesitantly pulls away from you for a moment, mumbling a soft, give me a sec sweetie. he shifts around to the pull at the bottom of the driver seat, extending it backwards and giving him more space between him and the steering wheel. 
“cmere,” he says above a whisper, opening his arms for you once more. you’re being guided into his lap, gently wrangled in until you’re wrapped up in the thick protection of his strong biceps. he rubs your back, head resting safely on top of your’s, keeping you down to earth, keeping you in his arms. 
he takes in all your tears, takes in every racking sob from your chest into his, his lips every so often pressing their silent reminders of his presence into your temple. he rocks you back and forth, his soft shushes folding over the sound of your fading cries, lulling you into a calmness you didn’t know you could feel. 
“you’re okay, you’re okay,” he promises, and you believe him. you finally raise your head from his chest, the scent of him still lingering around you, his presence feels pliable, the way he’s looking at you, eyes downturned and scanning all over your face lovingly feels like a sign you know isn’t real. he says nothing, just clears away your stray tears, and that’s when you act. 
you lean in, holding his wrist and intertwining your fingers as your lips do the same. you sigh into his mouth, ascending in his arms when you feel him kiss you back just as rushedly, almost like if he’s too slow you’ll vanish from him. 
but it’s him who vanishes first. he pulls apart from you with a gasp, shifting you further away from him in his lap, your heart immediately cracking straight down the middle. “what’re you…what are you doing?” his questioning comes out breathless, he feels like he’s asking himself rather than he is you, and he prays you say the right thing, he prays that you call him disgusting and that you climb right out of his lap, removing the temptation and opportune to lean back in. 
but you don’t. “i’m sorry,” you whimper, embarrassment flushing through your whole body, he shuts his eyes, exhaling slowly through his nose. “i’m too old for you, you know that right?,” his knuckles drag across your cheekbone, and you nod solemnly, swallowing hard. “i’m not a kid though, joel,” you say shakenly, nerves rattling your bones when you say his name for the first time, unhidden by the lieu of mr. miller. 
“compared to me, you are,” he sighs, his hands gripping his own thighs, weighing them down to prevent them from gravitating to your’s. “i’m too old for you,” he repeats to himself, closing his eyes and leaning into the headrest, the sight and feeling of you looking up at him in his lap is too much for him to combat. “i’d be takin advantage of you,” he mutters, shaking his head, guilt starting to settle into the base of his chest. 
you’re quiet for awhile, and he takes it as his answer. that he’s right, this is wrong. 
but you contradict his thoughts. reaching up to pull his gaze back onto you. “you’re not taking advantage of me, i know that i want this.” you promise hushedly, and he wants to believe you. your eyes connect once more, a quiet tug of air being shared between the two of you, and you’re willing to let him have it, to let him have all the air you can offer and more. he leans in and you stay still, watching when he inches backward when he gets too close, like you’re a flame whose flicker burns too bright the closer he gets. and when you inch in, you can’t get yourself to break the seal and press yourself into him, a weight of nerves keeping you stagnant before him. 
his stare rises and falls down from your eyes to your lips, and you feel it in your bones that your body needs to have him more than it needs anything else. your gaze rests on him while your body acts for you, your hand finding his and holding it, squeezing it. “please,” you whisper, your words leaving you before you can process them. he swallows down everything holding him back, lurching forward to take your lips into his. his hand slides from yours, and up your arm, squeezing it as a test to see if you’re real. his hand moves from your cheek to the back of your head, kissing you hard and keeping you still, greedily wanting to keep you all for himself, wanting to memorize the taste of cherry coke on your tongue and raspberry lip balm on your lips.
it smears across his own lips, your taste immersing with his own, his mustache and beard tickling your skin just like you imagined it would, and you moan in his mouth at the feeling, flicking your tongue desperately over his, mindlessly bucking your hips against his. he groans deeply into you, grasping your hips and rocking himself into you, not a single thought in his head, just a carnal need to feel your cunt satiate the ache traveling down his cock. 
you pull apart for a breath, lips still pushed together, foreheads melded in close, hips crashing into each other with need. “feels so good,” you whimper into his mouth, the pleasure from the friction making you blatantly honest. 
he nods in agreement, never having heard truer words. his fingers indent the shape of themselves into your flesh, his hips acting on their own, desperate to push up into you while his mouth catches yours once more. 
he groans, his cock twitching when he feels you slip your tongue into his mouth, a little moan of your own floating out when you taste a hint of root beer from his kiss. 
your movements grow rushed, hands finding the heft of his flannel and fisting it to steady the heavy rocking of your hips crashing and tiding over his cock. 
desperation flows in your veins where your blood once was, replacing all sense of anything except for the physical need to rut your cunt against his bulge. he can’t keep up, all he can do is let his head fall in your shoulder, his big hands coming around to find purchase on your welcoming hips. his thighs clench underneath yours, tensing when he feels you dampen him through his pants. 
“baby,” he finally lets out shakily, thumbs running circles over your hips. “can’t—shit,” a beat passes with an involuntary grunt falling from his lips. “cant, can’t do this here,” he breathes, eyes hanging low upon you, his hips betraying his words with each thrust that meets your pelvis. 
you slow your movements, catching your breath quietly, nodding in a silent agreement. “i don’t wanna stop,” you admit truthfully, no longer feeling bashful about the fact.  
his cock aches at your honesty and he exhales through his nose, his hands tightening around you. “don’t have to,” he swallows, eyes drifting down to your hardened nipples. “just not here.” 
his answer satiates you, which almost leaves him regretful when you climb off his lap and leave him cold and void of your warm cunt pressed up against him. 
he starts the truck and all you can do is stare at the concentrated look on his face and his hands gripping the steering wheel. 
you wonder if he’ll hold you by your throat the same way. your thighs squeeze together tightly, causing the hem of your jean shorts to rub against your clit just enough to soothe the ache inadvertently caused by joel. 
he notices, eyeing you up and down, lips parted just a breadth at the sight. his hand itches to alleviate some of the pressure you’re carrying deep inside you, but instead he alleviates some of his own first. his right hand falls from the steering wheel for a moment, just to squeeze his cock when he watches the way you squirm and stare up at him from his passenger seat. 
he turns away, knowing he’ll crash if he keeps staring at you, bringing his wandering hand back to the wheel. 
“can i touch you?” you ask, seemingly innocent and his eyes shut for a passing second, a curt  shake of his head joining the action. “not a good idea—“ he really wants you to though “gonna make me crash,” he exhales, though his hips say otherwise, inching towards your side with need. 
your hand trails from his thigh down to his crotch, palming over him gently, and he grips the steering wheel, jaw vibrating with low groans. 
a 10 minute drive has never felt so far until now. 
your fingers curl over his bulge, straining against the seatbelt trying to lean in as close as it’ll let you until you decide to rid yourself of it all together. 
“seatbelt,” he says warningly, and with concern, but you wash it away the second your lips meet the side of his neck, with your hand pawing over him to ensure his submission. and joel just about crumbles far too easily at the touches. 
you’re impatient, he definitely sees that now, and you’re making it way harder than it needs to be for him to maintain his self control. 
“i thought about this a lot,” you hum in his ear, leaving kisses in the wake of your warm words. his throat gets tight just like his lower belly, excitement strumming through him when he halts at a red light. 
he turns towards you now, his hand dipping between your thighs, a little upward curl of his lips teasing the side of your cheek, his scruff leaving kisses of their own on your skin. 
you stifle a whimper, holding onto his wrist when you grind down on his fingers. “thought about touching me like how i’m touchin’ you?” he murmurs, pressing chaste kisses to your jaw. you nod, your chest pounding at the wave of realization of what’s happening. it excites you. 
“thought about it too,” he pulls away from you when the light turns green, and you stay frozen, your body suddenly unsure of how to function with a lack of his touch and proximity. 
“didn’t wanna admit it to myself, but i thought about doin…a lot more than that whenever you’d come around,” he pays you a once over, his eyes lingering over the plushness of your thighs that fill his passenger seat. 
“your skirts and shorts kept gettin’ so damn short, i felt guilty for wondering if it was on purpose,” a smugness takes over his face when he glances at you. “an’ now i know it was.” 
you flutter at his confessions, a sense of pride swelling in you at the confirmation that your little tactics seemed to have paid off. “i just wanted your attention,” you say softly, words falling like pillows and he catches them with open arms. 
his glance shifts from his crotch, up to your eyes knowingly, and he smiles faintly. “i can tell you that you had it even before you started wearin all that,” he rests his hand on your thigh, guiding the wheel with his left hand now. “but i can’t say i minded the change in outfits.” he brings his fingers over your clit, putting pressure over it and you whine quietly, bucking your hips into his touch. 
“if you ever want me to stop you need to tell me okay?” he tells you, and he’s serious, his fingers pull away for emphasis and you nod profusely, holding onto his wrist desperately. “i promise, joel i don’t wanna stop,” you plead with him, and as a simple man that he is, he doesn’t seem to need much more convincing. the pads of his fingers run circles over your clothed clit, and you grind down into it, hungry for more. 
“i want you,” you pant and he chuckles, drumming his thumb against the steering wheel. 
“you’ve got me.” 
“but i want more.” 
— 
it’s quiet when you arrive back at his house, the driveway is thankfully void of sarah’s little yellow volkswagen and relief blankets across your shoulders knowing she isn’t home. 
he ushers you inside, his broad, strong chest pressed up against your back with his hands guiding you by your hips. 
he closes the door with his back, leaning against it, watching you turn around to face him. it’s quiet for a few ticking seconds, and he watches as you lean in closer towards him. he doesn’t stop you but he doesn’t lean in to meet you halfway either. he says your name like he’s unsure if he’s even allowed to utter it, purposefully avoiding eye contact. you hum a soft little “yes?” and he sighs, his eyes falling shut for a moment. 
“this ain’t right,” he reminds himself, and his hands begin to loosen on your hips. you clamp a hand over one of his, the other coming up to lure him back into you, a gentle palm of yours cupping his scruffy jaw, thumb running across the crows feet that gather at the corner of his eye. “says who?” you counter gingerly and he chuckles breathlessly, shaking his head in your hold, feeling all restraint trickle straight off him the second his eyes catch yours. 
you move your hand away from his when his grip grows tight again, letting your now free hand hold both sides of his face when you go up on your tippy toes to meet him for a kiss. 
he catches you off guard and pulls you deeper into him, your crotches pressed flush together when he slips his tongue into your mouth, hooking and reeling you in. 
you moan into his mouth and it eggs him on, sending his hand into a downward motion towards your ass. he feels smug when you whimper in his mouth, pushing harder against his cock when he squeezes your ass. 
he rubs over your ass posessively, squeezing it hard, almost in disbelief that he gets to have you like this. kiss “need you to tell me if and when you wanna stop,” kiss. you don’t reply, you just fall into him whenever he presses his lips back to yours. your lack of a response leaves him discontent and he pulls apart an inch, eyeing you down expectantly. you huff impatiently, hooking your arms around his neck. “promise. i will.” which is good enough for him as he melds into you once more. 
his hands roam all over you, caressing, holding, squeezing all the places that only his eyes have traveled. 
it feels good, it feels all encompassing, to feel the trails of fire his hands leave all across your skin, and you can’t get enough. “can we,” a kiss to your throat, “go to your room?” you ask, somewhat breathless and he pauses for a second, eyes tracing the outline of your bitten lips before he nods. he holds your hand, leading you into his bedroom. 
the second you’re inside you’re guiding him into his own bed after having shut the door. he gazes at you amusedly, handing you the reins for a moment, keeping his hands on the edge of them while you take charge. he thinks it’s cute. 
you sit him at the edge of his bed, straddling him while you push at his chest until his back meets the mattress. you’re leaning back down, holding his face in your hands, your lips hastily meeting his once more. he welcomes you, his hands holding you down on top of him by your hips. 
you grind down on him, panting in his mouth at how good it feels to have him pressed right against your cunt. but it’s not enough. you need more. 
your hands travel down his strong chest, fixing towards unbuttoning his flannel. he lets you, busying himself with unbuttoning your little denim shorts, but he wants to unwrap you slowly. he wants to make a show of it. 
he flips you on your back and you gasp, feeling hot under his stare and stature above you. his knees rest on either side of you, indenting the bed while he maintains eye contact. his fingers take their time unzipping your shorts, and you whine quietly, bucking your hips towards him. 
he pushes you back down and shushes you. “patience.” he murmurs, rubbing his thumbs over your upper thighs. he doesn’t rush taking your shorts off, wanting to savor the feeling of getting to do this for as long as he can. the vision of you in his bed, wet, and impatient, laying before him in your little pink panties is about to make him burst. 
he’s still fully clothed above you and it casts a warm feeling throughout your bare body. you bring your knees close to your tummy, shutting your legs at your sudden shyness. he moves in closer, shaking his head with his palms on your knees. 
he pushes them back down, slipping a hand between your thighs. you gasp, arching your back into him and exhaling with relief when his fingers trace over your clothed clit. “i wanna see you honey,” he careens you gently, coaxing your shyness away. your legs part for him, and he takes full advantage, running the pads of his fingers up and down slowly, feeling the slickness start to bleed through your panties. 
he pushes them to the side, swirling over your clit and feeling proud when you moan into his shoulder. he dips into your little soaked hole, exhaling into your neck at how wet you are. “barely e’n touched you and you’ve already made a mess,” he tsks you lovingly, hints of teasing in his words, and it only excites you more. your stomach and chest get tight at his touches and the way he talks to you, it’s so unreal, and you could honestly cry in this moment from how bad you want to fuck him. 
“i always get like this for you—oh,” you cry out into his shoulder when he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, his digit so long that it easily hits the little spongy spot inside you that you usually struggle to reach. 
“aw sweetpea,” he coos, kissing your forehead while his finger curls inside you. “got you walkin’ around all hot and bothered with no release, i’m sorry,” he kisses your temple, his gentleness contradicting the way he’s fucking you with his finger, grunting under his breath at how tight the fit is when he works in his ring finger. 
you choke on a gasp at the stretch, starting to wonder if his cock will fit if his fingers are already making you feel like this. 
“you gonna make it up to me?” you whimper, still maintaining an air of playfulness in your response. he chuckles, pulling apart ever so slightly to look at you, to watch the way you struggle to stare up at him with his fingers in your cunt. 
“i’ll make it up to you, and then some,” he says, his voice falling low on a raspy curve. you believe him, his response feeling like a promise he intends to keep. 
he’s on you again and you invite it wholly, legs coming around on either side of him go trap him into you. his fingers fuck into that sweet little spot inside you, every single flick of his wrist has your lower back bucking up into his touch. 
his palm hits your clit with every movement, it’s almost cruel, giving you just an inch when you need a mile. you’re running your hands all over him, kissing him messily even when there’s a mix of your saliva dribbling on your chin and air is depleting from your lungs. none of it matters, all that does is consuming as much of joel as humanly possible. 
your fingers struggle to unbutton his flannel once more, shaking and trembling too much to do it as ladylike as you wish you could but he doesn’t mind, it makes his cock twitch knowing he’s the reason why you can’t stay still. 
“feels so good joel,” you whimper, fucking yourself onto his fingers when you finally undo all the pesky buttons on his flannel. he kisses your cheek, his beard tickling your skin while you slide your hands underneath his wife beater. 
“good honey, s’all i wanna do,” he curls his finger right there, drinking in your cries with his lips clamped over yours. your nails drag down his chest and he winces above you, your lips still brushing together. “sh-shit m’so so sorry joel,” you remedy the scratches with gentle caresses but he shakes his head, kissing your chin. “no no s’alright baby—kinda liked it,” he chuckles, thumbing over your clit, precum starting to leak through his boxers at the way you keen into him at the little action. you giggle at his response, raking your nails softly down his chest, fingers suddenly halting only to begin trembling when he picks up the pace inside you. 
“want more joel, i—fuck,” you’re panting, arching up into him, the saturation of the room is getting dimmer and glittery, it’s hard to keep your eyes open and the pounding in your chest and cunt is nearly blinding you. “need more of you, please? please god i’ll do anything,” your desperation is loud and clear and you couldn’t care less. he can feel it, can feel you gripping his fingers, squeezing him so good and he certainly hears how ready you are for him; he revels in the slick clicking sound eliciting from between your legs because of, again, him. 
he swipes the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes and he shushes you, kissing you wherever your tears appeared, rubbing that little spot inside of you soothingly. 
you hum in pleasure, hands traveling up to his shoulders. “don’t need to cry honey, i’ll give i’to you,” his promises fan out over your lips, slipping his fingers out of you. 
the loss of his fingers inside you feels cruel, you feel clingy, all you want is joel near you, around you, on you, and in you. 
the sound of his hands undoing his belt hangs in the air, quiet and low breaths of desperation flicker from out your lips while you watch him pull himself out of his jeans. his cock, fat and heavy, and twitching, falls with heft on your lower tummy, resting with impatience on your skin. 
you whimper, hand nervously wrapping around it, your fingers barely able to cover the thick circumference of it. “you’re huge,” you choke, unintentionally adding fuel into his ego and he chuckles, shaking his head when he kisses you. 
“you’re flatterin’ me,” he murmurs against your lips, wrapping a hand around himself, guiding his tip to circle around your clit. you gasp, curling upwards into him, your forehead resting on his broad shoulder. you kiss his bare skin, the comfort of his skin to yours soothes you while he slides his cock up and down your folds. 
“oh—ooh,” you suck in a big breath, hands flying to his forearms to hold onto when he starts to push in, his tip inching into you feels just as big as it looks. “shit,” you whimper at the burn that follows along with the stretch that he pushes into you and he pauses with concern. he hovers above you like a gracious adonis and it almost makes you forget the twinge of pain between your thighs. 
“you need me to stop?” he asks, his words of gentleness cradling you and you shake your head, running your palms down his chest. “no, please keep going, i can take it,” you nod as further emphasis, pushing your hips up, aching to feel more of him. 
he brings his lips to your’s again, sighing when he feels your little moan escape into his mouth. his cock rocks into you at a steady pace, unintentionally pushing you further up into his bed, and he holds onto you tighter, not wanting you to move an inch away from him. 
“haven’t felt like—shit,” he shudders something like a whimper against your lips, and you have to hold back a moan at the sound. “ha-haven’t felt like this in so long honey,” he swallows hard, caressing the side of your face. “haven’t thought about someone like this in years’,” he groans, pushing his cock in deeper. 
your clit pulses at the way he speaks to you, the way he fucks you. “had to fuckin’ jerk off like i was a teenager again after you’d leave—y’have no idea what the hell you’ve been doin’ to me honey,” he messily kisses you between each word, his thrusts growing heavy and rough inside you, the fat head of his cock prodding perfectly into the spongy little spot inside of you. 
“should’ve told me sooner joel,” you whine, bucking your hips to feel more of his cock. “touched myself every night thinking of you,” you whimper out, eyes falling shut when you feel his lower half brush against your clit. he pushed in especially deep at your confession, and you gasp, holding onto him tighter. 
“joel—fuck, sl-slow down, it’s so much,” you cry, barely able to hold onto him while he starts to pound into you, like he’s lost the reins and his body is in control now, an energy and stamina he hasn’t had since he was in his 20’s was back in full force and it all went into fucking you stupid. 
“m’sorry honey—you just, ohfuck, feel so good an the things you’re sayin’ i just—fuck i can’t help it,” he breathes out, pressing a chaste kiss to your bitten lips. “just take it for me baby,” he groans, his hands squeezing your tits before traveling down to your hips. 
his head hangs low while he splits you open on his cock, struggling to keep his eyes from shutting, but he forces them open to watch the way his cock stretches you wide. “you’re so big,” you whine, teeth coming down to sink into the heft of his shoulder. he groans in your neck, sending you a particularly hard thrust. 
the scent of cigarettes wafts around you the more he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips nip at your skin and you whimper into his shoulder at the thought of you going home smelling like him. 
his calloused hands mold to the shape of your body no matter where they travel, forming perfectly around you to hold onto you as tight as he can. 
silence falls between you two, the only communication occurring is the shared grunts and groans that slip into each other’s open mouths. his forehead rests on yours, occasionally moving to your collarbone or ducking down to graze his teeth across your breasts, tongue darting out to wetten your nipples. 
the sound of your soaked cunt getting fucked is near obnoxious—it’s loud, and you pray that the windows in his bedroom are shut, because there’s no doubt that if they aren’t, his neighbors will hear everything. 
your legs shakily hang off his lower back, pushing him in deeper and deeper. 
his thrusts start to slow in pace, and each drag of his cock inside you feels hypnotic, feels amazing, and he groans the same sentiments in your ear, kissing the skin behind it. “m’sorry,” his hips pause to a halt and you panic for a second, wondering if you somehow did something wrong. “everything okay?” you ask softly, clearing the hair away from his eyes. he nods, avoiding eye contact embarrassedly. “my back—startin to cramp up on me,” he mutters, pulling out of you and you hold back a sound of disappointment from the lack of weight on top of you. 
he sits up, back facing away from you, head in his hands. “i’m sorry honey,” he apologizes, still not looking at you. you frown, shuffling on your knees towards him. you hold him from behind, kissing the side of his neck. 
“don’t be.” you murmur, moving around in front of him now. you push at his chest gently, clambering on top of him. his eyes widen, a grin slowly spreading across his lips while his hands rest on your thighs. “what’re you doin?” he asks under a raspy breath, his cock twitching underneath you with excitement. 
you hold his shaft, realigning him with your eager hole, leaning down to press a kiss before you speak. “i’m taking over.” is all you say as you sink down on his cock, wincing at the intrusion. 
his eyes roll back and his head falls into the pillow, his hands starting to grip your hips. “baby,” he moans to himself, his cheeks growing hot. you have to inch him in at a cautious pace but he doesn’t mind, your tight warmth is something he welcomed wholeheartedly. 
you start to grind your hips experimentally, hoping it feels good for him. you honestly have no idea what you’re doing. you’ve only had sex once but you don’t know if it even really counts. 
if a guy putting it in then pulling out because he came too fast counted then, sure you’ve had sex. 
however all of this; it’s different with joel, that was a boy, and now you’ve got a man’s cock buried in your pussy. and you want to make him feel like one, you don’t want him to feel ashamed about his age or anything like that. you’ll make him forget about everything. 
you shudder a breathy moan at the new position, resting your hands on his broad chest, admiring the beautiful man that rests under you. “tell me what makes you feel good joel,” you murmur, head falling towards him, making direct eye contact with him. he swallows hard, his cock aching at how fucking hot you are. 
“shit baby, just use me how you want, use my cock honey.” he groans, licking his fingers and bringing it to your clit. you whine, almost toppling over on top of him at the contact, but you hold yourself up, determined to make both yourself and joel feel good. 
you grab his hands, unclamping them from the grip that rested around your hips and instead dragging them up your sides and onto your breasts, silently telling him to squeeze as much as he pleases. 
and that he does. 
he squeezes them, bucking his hips upwards into yours as he watches the way your flesh fills the gaps between his fingers. you rise and fall onto his cock, bouncing on it with a rhythm that hits every sensitive spot inside of you. 
you look down to where you meet, sucking in your bottom lip at the sight of him disappearing inside of you each time you lower yourself onto him. you rock back and forth, whimpering at how deep he can reach in you. you watch the way he swirls his fingers over your clit, touching you better than you could ever do on your own time. 
“c’mere honey,” he groans for you, and you obey, bending down to rest on his chest. he stops you before you can fully lay on top of him, holding you just under your ribs. he pulls you into his mouth, sucking over the soft flesh of your chest, tongue licking messily and hungrily all over your breasts. you gasp, arching your back into his mouth. “j-joel,” you moan, struggling to maintain the rhythm you built. 
his teeth tease your nipples and you shiver, your nails digging into his shoulders at the sensation. you bounce on his cock, mind going numb and fuzzy while your senses take over, each thrust feeling like electric in your veins. 
after he’s done sucking bruises into your soft flesh, your hands reconnect once more, and you pin them down beside his head, hovering above him while you ride his cock. 
i love you, almost slips from your lips while you stare at each other, chests rising and falling heavily, mouths parted, tongues darting out to wet your lips with hunger. the words hang in the air without sound, you’re sure of it. 
you grind down onto him as far as you can take him, feeling him nudge your cervix, and you whimper at just how deep he can go inside of you. he takes your moment of weakness as an opportunity to flip you right back to where you all started; underneath him. 
you gape at him, unable to process his quick movements. you’re laying at the foot of the bed now, and he’s grabbing your calves, tugging you closer towards him. he pushes back in and wastes no time in pounding you like nothing happened. he grabs your leg, pushing it up further towards your chest, angling himself in even deeper, pure desire fueling him. “shit baby,” 
he mutters, his hair falling in his eyes as he kisses your jaw. 
he rubs your clit with his thick fingers and you cry out, starting to tremble uncontrollably beneath him. “think m’gonna cum joel, m’so so so close,” you whine, your eyes falling heavy with your impending orgasm. 
“let me have it honey, cmon,” he kisses his encouragement into your cheek, fucking you with determination to make you cum, hard. his fingers never relent on your clit, and you can’t stop the panting that leaves your lips, all you can do is writhe beneath him while he fucks you through your dizzying climax. you moan his name in breathy chants, spasming as your body tries it’s best to ride out the stimulation that joel bombards you with. 
his hips grow messy and sporadic, he’s catching your lips in a hot kiss, tongues clashing and saliva falling to the corners of your mouth. barely taking any time to break apart for air. “m’almost there—where can i…” he trails off breathlessly, unsure of how to ask in a way that a gentleman would ask but you don’t care, you don’t need him to sound like one, not when he’s fucking you as if he’s never heard the word before. 
“inside, y-you can do it inside, please,” you beg with need, curling your legs around his hips and pushing down on his lower back. he shudders, and has a millisecond to want to ask you if you’re sure, but he can’t stop pushing himself inside you, it feels too good, and he’s glad you’re trapping him between your legs, because he never wants to stop. 
“sh-shit, i’m cummin’ honey,” he shakily moans in your mouth, struggling to keep his kiss coherent but the way your spent cunt tightens around him makes him lose all sense. you whimper against his lips, feeling hyper sensitive to each and every touch, but the feeling of him cumming inside you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 
he slowly pulls out of you, peppering your face with kisses when you make a sound of discomfort. you two lie in a comfortable silence, trying to catch your breaths. you turn to look at each other, and he smiles at you, leaning over to cup your face in his palm. “you okay?” he murmurs softly, running his thumb across your cheekbone. you nod into his touch, holding the back of his hand with yours. “yeah,” you grin. “you?” 
he chuckles heartily, and nods as well. “yeah. i’m alright,” he sends a playful wink and you can’t believe that it still manages to make your tummy flutter with butterflies. you suppose he’ll always have that effect on you. 
you stare at him for a little longer, testing the waters to see if he’ll stop you as you lift up his arm and scoot closer to him. and when he doesn’t, you smile to yourself while he only pulls you in closer, tightening his arms around you. you can feel his heartbeat against your back, and you’ve never felt more soothed before. 
you trace the veins on his strong arm that cradles you into him, your head resting on his other bicep. you don’t want to disrupt the peacefulness that’s settled upon you both, but you have questions that just might do that. 
“joel?” you ask and he hums a response. “would you ever want to do this again? or not even this but just…like…hangout?” you unknowingly grip onto his arm with nervousness, and hope that he says yes. 
he takes in a breath and you shut your eyes at the impending rejection. “honey,” he starts, and your eyes glisten with tears already. “i don’t know if this is something we should’ve done to begin with—not that i regret it—lord,” he shakes his head, chuckling dryly to himself. “lord knows i don’t regret it. but i don’t know if this is something we could sustain. i want to though, sweetpea trust me that i do,” he tilts your chin towards him, feeling his heart break when he sees your watery eyes looking back at him. 
“oh honey,” he sighs sadly, shifting you around so you can look up at him properly. his arms encase you, his warm hand running up and down your back while he pressed gentle kisses to your forehead. “why?” is all you manage to ask and he shuts his eyes, resting his chin on top of your head. “your dad’ll shoot me down and hang my body in front’of the whole neighborhood if he knew. and sarah? i don’t think she’d take kindly to me datin’ her best friend.” you hate that he makes perfect sense and you hate that you sound childish, that you didn’t even take either of those things into consideration. 
“we don’t have to tell them—at least not now? and we don’t have to be anything serious, i just…i like being around you.” you softly murmur, feeling pathetic as tears line your lashes once again. he thumbs across them, ridding your eyes of their wetness. “i like being around you too,” he returns your sentiments, leaning down to peck you. it feels gentle, domestic, and you can’t imagine going without more of them. 
“i’ll still pick you up after you have class, i still want you to come over for dinner like you usually do, nothin’ has to change and,” he closes his eyes for a beat. “—despite everything i said, i…i don’ know if i could handle not havin’ you around honey, feels like somethin’s missin’ when you’re not around.” he admits, and to himself as well, for the first time. 
you bloom with happiness at his words, surging forward to kiss him. he holds you by the back of your neck, tracing circles into your jaw. you hold his face in your hands, pressing kisses along his cheeks, feeling warm all over and when he laughs. it’s filled with a comforting airiness. 
he holds your wrist, turning to kiss your palm. he plucks your index finger, bringing it to his lips to kiss gently. “got me wrapped around this little thing,” he says just above a whisper, and your heart aches, overflowing with adoration. 
the door suddenly opens downstairs and you both share a look of horror. 
“dad? i’m home!”
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beyoursbb · 1 year ago
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€uro Tra$h Series: Dipped in $ugar (Part 3 - final)
Pairing: Billy Butcher x You (Reader) || Rating: Explicit || Word Count: 1.9k || Link to Part 1 and Link to Part 2 (Not necessary to read to understand Part 3, but here if you want more! Timeline for this work is Season 1 btw).
Summary: Just morning sex with Butcher lol.
Author’s Note: Wrote this shorter cuz I meant to get this out a long while ago, whoops! You can let me know how it was! Likes, dislikes, etc. I love and appreciate feedback in the comments. This 3-part scenario is now complete. @a-rogue-tiddy-bot thought you might want to be tagged!
Warnings: swearing, teasing, vaginal fingering, implied p in v sex, sugar daddy / daddy kink (the name daddy is used 1 time, and a lil talk of those dynamics), age gap (implied, not specified), little bit of praise, begging
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You woke up gradually, each of your senses gathering intel on your surroundings to remind you of where you were. Sunlight streamed through the tiny crack in the motel’s curtains, glinting off the weapon on the table. The bed sheets by your nose still had the scent of laundry detergent despite last night’s action. The faint snoring of the man behind you matched the warm body cuddled up to your backside, and the arm under your neck that you were using as a pillow. You could feel the heat radiating off Billy’s chest and the weight of his other arm hanging over your midsection, as well as something not-so-soft pressing against your butt. 
You stretched your hand back to stroke his neck. “Billy?” you whispered. 
No response. 
“Billy,” you said louder, lightly tugging on his hair. 
He hummed, keeping his eyes closed. 
You took a breath, then gave an experimental shift backwards into his crotch.
“Oi. Morning sunshine,” he mumbled into your hair, his hand already cupping between your legs.
You giggled at how that got his attention. “Morning, Billy.”
“When’d you put these on?” he complained softly, playing with the waistband of your bottoms.
“When I got up in the middle of the night.”
If you thought Butcher’s regular deep voice was sexy, you were wholly unprepared to face this gravelly tone as he woke up. Especially when it was demanding your naked body again. 
“Well fucking take ‘em off, will ya?” 
Billy hardly gave you a moment to comply before shoving his hand in your underwear. He immediately found your clit, but his touch was gentle, and worked tantalizingly slow, tracing lazy circles. Your legs didn’t need much coaxing to open up as Billy eagerly pushed his own thigh between them and hooked yours around it while planting soft kisses to your neck. His beard tickled your jawline, and you sighed contentedly, melting into the sensation with a slight turn of your head toward him. You closed your eyes.
If this was how snug morning sex with Billy could be, you hoped he would let you linger more frequently. You guessed being half asleep was why his demeanor had taken a sharp left turn and a whole 180 flip to be so…calm. Not that you ever minded his roughness. But this right now was a different experience, and it was nice. You were used to trying to help Butcher relax as much as possible during your visits, but there is only so many times a guy can fuck the stress out of his system before needing to face his stressors head-on, like a well-adjusted adult. You knew an unstable, emotionally unavailable man when you saw one; Butcher didn’t have time for that. His mind was always preoccupied, his actions always in a hustle to return to whatever was demanding his attention before you arrived. Hence, why you were surprised he wasn’t already fucking you into the mattress and sending you on your way. 
Instead, Billy’s fingers continued to tease your slick entrance delicately; it was almost unbelievable they were the same fingers that brought you to a searing climax some hours ago. 
“Even first thing in the morning, so wet and ready,” Billy whispered in your ear.
You could hear the smirk in his voice, driving you to push your hips against him to address your growing need for more friction. But Billy seemed satisfied taking his time playing with you, his breathing even as his lips ghosted across the smooth skin of your shoulder. 
A cross between a groan and a whimper slipped off your tongue. You were getting impatient already. “I need more, Daddy.”
“Need more what, luv?” Billy took hardly a second to push your underwear farther down your legs until it was off, and run his hand back up your bare skin.
“More of you,” you answered, reaching behind to grab his increasingly hard length. Hot and heavy in your palm, you started to touch him too, rubbing slowly from base to tip. 
“Oh, you’ll get more, baby.”
You inhaled sharply. Billy rarely called you baby. Shit, you thought. Since when had he picked up on the effect that word had on you when it was uttered by him? You could give less of a shit when your other sugar daddies called you the pet name. But Billy dropping it so casually right now while he toyed with your arousal? You were in for it this morning.
“My baby can be such a greedy girl,” he chuckled.
My baby. My. Baby. My.
This time you visibly shivered, your shoulders rattling against his chest, but you tried to cover it up by twisting your head back at the same time to steal a kiss from his lips. He allowed it, nipping at your lower lip, then removed his arm from under you and propped himself up on it. Butcher was at the perfect level now to hover right above your ear. 
“Did ya know that’s why I say you’re my favorite?” 
His fingers were back on your clit, the pressure still light, but he quickened his pace. 
“Why?” you asked, dumbly, his teasing clearly too distracting for your mind to keep up with the conversation, as well as provide any stimulation for him. Your hand on his length had already slowed to a pathetic, arrhythmic rate. You blushed at the realization when he — rather politely — removed your useless hand from his crotch and placed it under his own to touch yourself with as he continued his ministrations on your wetting pussy. 
“Because you’re greedy, luv. And I know it’s not for my money.” 
A pitifully needy noise slipped out from deep in your throat as Billy’s mouth connected to the soft spot under your ear, tongue flicking at the lobe, before he bit it — harder than you anticipated. 
“You get that everywhere, with however many daddies you have.” 
You drew in a deep breath in an attempt to steady your loudly beating heart. Was there a tinge of spite in his voice? You didn’t have time to analyze. Billy flipped you around to face him, swiftly replacing the hands on your core with his length dragging through your folds. You gasped, gripping at his shoulders, trying not to stare down at the delicious sight of his big hand around his even bigger member, its head leaking precum into your slit. 
“Nah, I know,” Billy growled. Your eyes snapped up to meet his dark, lust-filled gaze. “You’re just greedy for my cock.”
You shrieked at the sudden intrusion, then swore at him. Finally he had dipped into your dripping cunt. Except this fucker switched back to using his fingers.
“Billy— Billy, please,” you cried out, not even sure what you were begging for. You were greedy for his cock, yes. You were just as desperate for your fucking release. Also, you wanted to wipe that smug smile off his handsome face. 
“Let me hear you,” he insisted, two digits pushing in and out of your center. “Tell me, why are you my favorite fuck?”
You willed your mind and mouth to cooperate in forming sentences. “Because I’m greedy.”
The quick response earned you a third digit stretching you out, causing you to bite down on your lip.
“For…?”
Again, you forced yourself to concentrate, despite the lewd noises echoing below you and the feeling of climax in the pit of your stomach hungry to break free. 
“For your cock,” you breathed out. “I’m so greedy for your cock.”
Billy curled his fingers to hit that spot you loved, and you felt your tether to reality loosen. 
“So sweet of you to say, darlin’.” The stillness in his tone matched the precision of his palm now rubbing tight circles on your clit. "Is that what you want now? You want my cock in your tight little pussy?"
Your head drooped forward, thudding against his firm chest, your hands still clawing at his arms for some sense of stability while you grinded down on him, desperately chasing your high. He was stringing you out for all you were worth and you were so, so close, you didn’t care how pathetic you sounded. "Yes, yes! Please— I want it so bad,” you panted.
“Next time, baby, look at me when you speak. Maybe then you'll get exactly what you want.”
With one last stroke of his hand, your orgasm hit hard, much more intense than the two last night combined, and twice as pleasurable. You saw stars with your eyes sealed shut while your pussy clenched with a vice grip around Billy, as strong as your nails dug into his skin. He made you the most writhing, sweaty mess you’d been in months, yet you didn’t — couldn’t — even make a sound, sans the quiet gushing of your juices thoroughly coating him.
You had no idea how many minutes passed before you came back down to Earth in Butcher’s arms and opened your eyes to see him peering down at you gingerly. He pecked your forehead, and you did the same to his neck, collarbone, and chest.
“Fuck, I’m glad you stayed last night, luv.”
“Me too,” you squeaked out.
“You alrigh’?” Billy asked, wiping the tears that had formed at the corners of your eyes.
You nodded, then laughed. “Pretty sure I blacked out.”
“Thought so, too,” he replied, a small, satisfied grin appearing. 
You rolled your eyes and playfully pushed him away. Then for the first time all morning, you got a good look at him. His thick, dark brown hair could definitely be characterized as a bed head, and you aimlessly combed through it a few times. Your gaze drifted downwards to the red scratches you had just gifted him, and you gently brushed over them with the pad of your thumb. A little farther down you carefully studied the still-fresh bruises and past-lingering scars across his broad torso. 
Your turn to inquire. “Are you alright?”
“Never better,” Billy said, a little too quickly.
“I mean from last night.” You traced an imaginary line connecting the marks on his body, to make your point clear. “What happened?”
Butcher shifted his body, but his face remained hardened. “Even MM needs a reminder every once in a while. Captain’s gotta run a tight ship,” he said matter-of-factly. “Job’s stressful, night didn’t go as planned, he took it out on me, but he knows when I’m right.”
You nodded, as if deliberately sidestepping the question about his injuries to explain the one part of his night you were present for was an acceptable enough answer. However, after a restful night’s sleep and an active morning that left you plenty clear-headed, you felt a bit more bold. You didn’t care if it wasn’t a sugar baby’s place to know his job. If he wasn’t ready to discuss the elephant in the room this second, you were at least going to let him know he wouldn’t get away with avoiding it for long.
“Fine, if you want to dance around it. You don’t have to tell me right now why you were gone four hours longer than you expected, or came back with this,” you nudged his taped up hand, “or that,” you gestured toward the semi-automatic on the table, “but at the very least, you should introduce me to your colleagues.”
The flashback of you laying on the bed, thankfully fully clothed, when they stormed in last night flashed through your memory. “You know, the guys who weren’t sure that this is legal,” you added. “Want them to know it’s all good.”
There was a beat of silence, until Billy relented, and you were genuinely surprised at the lack of pushback. “Fine.” 
With his hand on your hip, he rolled you over onto your other side, back into a spooning position, with your ass pulled against him. 
“You’ll meet the boys with my cum dripping down your thighs.”
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washy0uaway · 1 year ago
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Kiss City Pt. 3
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Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader Word Count: 1.6k Chapter Summary: Sweet baby fluffy Frankie watches over you as you get to know each other. Series Summary: The thing you expected least on what you swore was a day set out to be cursed by the universe, was Frankie. A/N: I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get another part up, and didn't really intend for this to be such a slow burn lol. Life has been, well.. life. Absolutely slammed at work and fighting some dumb health stuff, but I plan to carve more time out for these two more regularly. Cathartic for me tbh <3 Also a bonus that people have been enjoying this - thank you so much for sharing/liking/following! Series Masterlist | Part 2
*I'M ALSO STARTING A TAG LIST!* I haven't kept track of anyone that's already asked, but will going forward! Respond to a post or shoot me a message if you'd like to be added :) xx
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After a short walk back to Frankie's truck (where he somehow managed to hold every door open for you without dropping your hand), you've agreed on tacos for dinner. Finding yourself in his passenger seat again, you glance at the clock to notice it's not even 1pm - hours until a suitable dinner time you think to yourself.
After he closes the drivers side door and starts the truck, he once again hands you his phone for you to enter your home address this time and you're off (Fleetwood Mac now playing over the stereo).
You fall into a comfortable silence the first few minutes, and Frankie thinks he's subtle as he steals glances at you each time he looks to take a turn or check his mirror. Not subtle at all, but cute nonetheless.
"Can I ask you a question?" he finally breaks the silence first. "Of course" you offer. "How did you know I'm not a creep? Back in the lobby, I said I'm not a creep and you said, 'I know,'"
Your laugh is the hardest he's heard yet, and though he's smiling next to you, he asks again.
"I'm serious!" he half jokingly exclaims. "I'm sorry, that's just not the question I was expecting. I don't know, you..." your voice trails off as you've looked up at him and your gazes lock again, now stopped at a red light. A soft sigh escapes your lips and you offer him a sweet, slight smile.
"You just seem like a good person," you continue and he almost scoffs. "Now I'M serious!" you insist, "I have to admit I was pretty pissed before I met you earlier, but you've gone out of your way to make up for it and make sure I'm okay - you've taken care of me."
He shrugs and turns back to focus on the road as the light turns green and tries to play it off. "Can't have you dyin' on me is all, wouldn't look good on my record you know?"
"Of course," you agree. "Can't have me dyin' on you."
The remainder of the drive is pretty quiet, and when you pull into your driveway and unbuckle your seat belt, Frankie is somehow already out of the truck and rushing to open your door for you. You try to protest and insist that you're not entirely useless, and he tells you the same thing he told you as he carried you inside your office building.
"Maybe I want to."
You can't argue with that, so instead take his hand as he helps you out of the truck. You only let go to dig in your cluttered tote bag for your keys. After unlocking the door and letting him follow behind you, you drop your bag and keys to immediately take your shoes off and let out a long sigh.
"How ya doing over there, champ?" Frankie asks as he closes your front door behind him.
"Honestly, exhausted. I don't really know what the plan for the afternoon is but I could use some serious couch time. We could put on a movie?"
"That sounds great, and probably exactly what you need right now."
You point him in the direction of your living room and explain you're going to throw on some sweats and grab you both something to drink, telling him to "Make yourself comfortable."
... which he definitely hasn't done when you walk into your living room, setting two glasses of water on the coffee table. His back is to you as he studies your walls intently. Photos of you as a kid (with people he imagines would be sisters or cousins), posters from concerts, bizarre art prints, all adorn your walls. But your bookcase is what he zeroes in on, as he's completely oblivious to the fact that you're making yourself comfortable on your couch behind him.
There's a range from classics like Dracula or Pride & Prejudice, to biographies of people he's never even heard of, then histories of music genres, and more - all sorted alphabetically in an almost overflowing book shelf.
A meow breaks his focus and he turns to see you sitting cross legged on your couch in lounge shorts and a comfy crop top as your cat, Beans, hops up to join you.
"Having fun?" you ask, after introducing your pet. "Yeah, sorry, you .. you uh, can tell a lot about a person by their books, is all." "Yeah?" you prod, "what did you learn about me?"
You'd propped an elbow on your bare knee, resting your chin on your fist looking up at him, wide eyed and almost sultry. This time, its your gaze that almost melts him, and he has to force his jaw shut before continuing the conversation.
"Well, you obviously read a lot," in a few steps he's sitting down next to you, Beans on your opposite side.
"Which I like in a person," he continues. "But most of your books are about things I know nothing about. I mean, an auto biography of J.M. Barrie? Who the fuck is J.M. Barrie?"
Your laugh startles Beans, who hops off the couch and saunters off in search of his food dish. Frankie makes a mental note that he wants to do that more often - make you laugh.
"He wrote Peter Pan, Frankie! You've never heard of him?" "Okay, don't hate me, I fully would have guessed that Walt Disney wrote Peter Pan."
You tsk and playfully shake your head, "Maybe you need to borrow the book then," giving him a side eye that nearly knocks him out.
"Gladly," he agrees, and you reach for the remote to put on a movie.
"What are you in the mood for?" you ask as you mindlessly start scrolling through streaming apps.
"Whatever you want, I'm just here to keep you company. What's your go-to comfort movie?" he suggests, and a near devious grin spreads across your face.
Knowing already exactly which app to find it on, you pull up the first, original Nightmare on Elm Street.
"THIS is your comfort movie?" He shifts his legs and body toward you in disbelief, pointing at the screen.
"Yup." you smack your lips as you say it, smiling up at him with pride. "Fall asleep to it most nights."
"You fall asleep to Nightmare on Elm Street?"
"Sure do! Hey, you're the one that told me to put it on."
A chuckle escapes him as he settles into the couch, draping his arm to rest loosely on the top of the couch behind you.
"I'm not complaining, you're just full of surprises, hermosa." You blush at the term, pressing play on the movie. "I like it though," he admits, now focusing on the TV in front of him.
"Yeah, yeah, just watch the movie, Morales." You kid, as you drape the blanket that had followed you to the couch over both of your legs.
Frankie decides a few minutes in, he'd rather watch you watch the movie. You're animated, talking along with the lines as characters say them, having clearly seen it countless times.
Stealing gazes at you periodically, he brings his arm resting on the couch down into his lap. He doesn't trust himself to not fully wrap his arm around you, and though he doesn't think he's misreading you, doesn't want to make you uncomfortable.
After letting out a long yawn though, you sleepily lean over and rest your head on his shoulder, eyes heavy.
He doesn't turn his head to look down, but you feel his eyes on your sleepy face.
"Is this okay?" you ask, lazily turning your head and looking up at him from beneath your lashes.
"Of course," he promises, face now only inches from yours.
You might have been nervous if you weren't so exhausted, but you quickly drift to sleep.
If you knew he was sitting next to trying not to freak out, biting his knuckles, you definitely would have been nervous. You began leaning more of your weight onto him as you fell into a deeper sleep and before he knew it, you were curled up at his side with your head in his lap and his arm draped over your waist.
Time passed quickly and it was safe to say, Frankie was focusing on anything but the movie. The credits began to roll and he hadn't even noticed until you started to slowly blink your eyes open.
"Is it over already?" your sleep stained voice asked, shifting on the couch to look up, your head still in his lap.
"Yeah, I guess it is." Frankie reached down to brush a stray hair out of your face and the look in his eyes made your heart jump.
He'd softened quite a bit over the short time you'd known him, but this look was different. Endearing, like he was in awe of you.
You had leaned your head into his hand as he brushed the hair out of your face and made eye contact with him.
The look you shared was telling - like you had an entire conversation in a glance. Both of you had agreed with this look, "you fascinate me, I can't believe I met you today," and "there's no where else I'd rather be than on this couch with you, and it scares me shitless how attracted I am to you already." All unspoken, but mutually understood, somehow.
You laid for a moment, head in his lap, cradled by his hand, not breaking eye contact.
"You wanna watch the second one?" you ask, gaze and tone still serious.
He really laughs this time, and you're grinning when he looks back down.
"Sure I do, sweetheart." Knowing goddamn well he'll still be watching you instead, he grabs the remote.
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days-until-burnout · 5 months ago
Text
Day 4 -
Characters - Pearl/Geminitay Words - 480 Time - 15 mins Content - fluff | gem being down bad
“G’day!”
Gem nearly dropped the tray, knocked another other tray over, and made a bigger mess of flour—all from just a greeting. She turned towards the voice, heart jumping to her throat as she did. It was her confirmation. Her reassurance that she was, in fact, doomed.
“Mornin’ Gem!” Pearl greeted again, soft smile still on her lips. A strand of brown hair fell over her eye when she tilted her head, that curious look in her eyes. Gem was never insecure nor cared about her height the way Joel did, but she had half the mind to admit that yes, Pearl was freakishly tall. “Did I scare you? You know I don’t mean to, you know that, right, Gem?”
“Uh– Ye– Yeah, I know, it’s okay– It’s okay, Pearl. Just, you know,” she set the tray down, pushed the other closer to the middle too. She was lucky Joel wasn’t in, or anyone for that matter, she would like to live this down eventually. She straightened her apron, only smearing flour into it so she looked away, composed herself as best as she could, “Was just in my head. Thinking about stuff… Important stuff! Very… um… important, yeah…”
Pearl’s eyes twinkled, softly. Her smile remained smitten, and Gem refused to believe it was for her. Instead, she tapped the table, straightened herself, and put on a facade.
“Anyways! How can I help you today, Pearl? You’re a bit early, so there’s not much ready yet. But I can definitively take your order and you can have dibs on whatever you want!”
“Oh!” Pearl lit up, jumped a little. Her fists raised and she did a little cheer, some small dance, then they went behind her back as she took a step forward, leaning closer to Gem, too close she might heart Gem’s pounding heart. “But, won’t Joel be mad at you? Everyone knows how he gets.”
“He doesn’t need to know,” Gem said quietly, playfully. She mustered courage to look at her, gave her a wink as she brought her index to her lips. She smiled, for her, genuinely. 
And how could Gem not melt when Pearl smiled back?
This was worth it. This moment with Pearl, their little secret. She could deal with Joel later, she’d fight the world twice over if it meant she could have this quiet moment with Pearl in the early morning hours. The sky dark, few people awake, just them in the bakery kitchen. 
Alone. 
All alone.
The thought made Gem’s heart skip again, and it wasn’t a train of thought she could afford to board. Not when Pearl was walking closer, asking about products available. Gem couldn’t spare thoughts, not a single thought, not when Pearl’s hand brushed hers when they both reached for the pad of paper. 
She was never going to hear the end of it once Joel found out.
_____
continuation of day 3, which means that day 5 might be the joel one. maybe. not sure but very likely, if i dont come up with anything else tomorrow lol on another note, first time writing gempearl. this was literally me 2 mins into writing
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also, unrelated, but tagging is like my least favorite thing to do. on tumblr and even on ao3. which is why the tags remain pretty simple, and i will most likely keep them the same aside from shipping/non-shipping, suggestive (and nsfw if i ever do) tags that i will sort out on the weekend. but but but, eh, anything bad is literally at the top where content is
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