#and it’s hard to explain how you can know someone without ever Knowing them. how u can have names when all u have are pictures and feelings

[villainsidestep]

fawniel thoughts hour….

[yukioos]

Hmo.. Viktor x drunk!reader, After attending an event and overdid it with the alcohol due to mel being best friends with reader (Progress day or other events that lets them loosen up) (No nsfw or yes nsfw!)

NASTY DOG

SUMMARY: viktor x reader // on progress day, you tend to celebrate and drink too much, ignoring viktor’s worries. you end up confessing your feelings to your best friend, and take your relationship a step further.

AUTHORS NOTE: eeeee this ask is amazinggg!!! i love the idea of mel n reader being best friends sm!!!!! this is 2.2k words, a lot longer than i expected it to be

WARNINGS: suggestive but no smut, making out, not a lot of mel and reader talking, mention about reader and viktor having maybe sex later, not proofread

the way the city of piltover progressed and changed throughout the years has always fascinated you. watching new inventions come and go was always interesting, and the city had a spectacularly advanced community. heimerdinger always tells you and the members of the piltover community stories about how he founded the city. he is especially smart in science and works hard to improve the lives of those around him, which you always admired.

you were pleased when you figured out he found a new assistant, viktor. he grew to be your best friend quickly, and always rambled about his studies and his mistakes. whenever he makes a new discovery, you are always the first person he tells, and he explains it with such detail.

he’s a handsome guy. you never understood why people weren’t all over him, maybe because he was closed off and spent his days in a lab. he’s a busy man, you know that as well as you recognize the palm of your hand, but he always finds a way to make time for you.

there’s no doubt he loves you. as his best friend, you are always his first priority, but he loves to indulge in his interests, that being inventions. as a way to spend time with you and enjoy science at the same time, sometimes he lets you sit next to him in the laboratory while he’s working.

he occasionally asks you to pass him an instrument he can use, but most of the time, he just tells you to sit there and look pretty. you know well that he doesn’t like to be bothered during his work, and normally he hates it when someone is in the room with him as he’s working. however, it’s a different story when that person is you.

he never feels bothered by you, no. in fact, you help him concentrate more than he does when he’s without you. he doesn’t mind the soft sound of you turning pages in the book he bought you, and he doesn’t mind when you stand up to take a small sip of water. he rather enjoys when you do those small actions without even realizing it’s a large thing for him. he can’t help but realize it brings immense joy to him when you ask a little question like, ‘what does that do?’ when he picks up an instrument for his work, or when you make a quick statement, ‘that’s a pretty color,’ when he oh-so unintentionally adds your favorite color to his works.

you’ve always supported him with his hextech project, even though you could get frustrated with the way he’s acted in the past. sometimes he would feel agitated because he couldn’t figure a part out, or if he messed something up. despite this, you’ve continued to tell him that a true scientist never figures something out perfectly on the first try. you hoped your words would affect him, and thank god they do. once you overheard jayce complaining about how something isn’t working right, and viktor repeated your words back to him. that of course, made your heart swell with pride.

you always knew the hextech would, sometime in the future, impact a whole civilization. heimerdinger said he’s never seen anything like it in his 314 years of living, nor anything that came close to it ever since piltover was founded 200 years ago.

speaking of which, jayce is planning to give the big speech tonight. lucky for you, viktor decided to give you front-row seats to the assembly.

jayce suggested that viktor should join him on the stage and share the speech, but he refused. it wasn’t uncommon for people to have stage fright. the speech was impressive, jayce did an amazing job, honoring each and every one of the members of piltover.

after the ceremony, a party was hosted by a volunteer group, who set up a large room full of drinks and a feast for thousands. you hadn’t had time to talk to viktor in between the ceremony and party, so you began to take a few drinks with mel.

you hesitated a bit, but eventually gave in when mel reminded you that it’s the only party piltover will have for their 200th anniversary. the fancy room is decorated with gold banners featuring the words ‘happy progress day.’ there are couches, tables, and booths all around, as if it is serving as an elegant restaurant.

not too long after, your vision starts to become blurry, and your words slur. you turn around to see viktor and jayce sitting in a dark red booth, most likely discussing their next chapter of hextech over a glass of wine.

you grin and cheer, then mumble to mel, “oh, it’s viktor! i’ll be right back, mel!” and she nods, chuckling as she softly pats your back.

you walk over to viktor with a bounce in every step, feeling giddy after taking one too many sips of wine. he quickly spots your recognizable figure and smiles at you, eyes softening at your stumbling body.

“i thought i told you not to drink too much,” he wraps an arm around your shoulder, rubbing it gently before continuing, “you know drinking isn’t good for you.”

his worried voice makes you smile, and your cheeks flush, as they always do around him. a warm feeling spreads your body, and you hum, staring at viktor’s bright eyes. jayce soon gets pulled away by someone who seemingly needs his attention, and lets out a little “let’s work on the hextech tomorrow, viktor,” ending with a small goodbye.

“oh, good! now i have you all to myself!” you smile, placing your arm on viktor’s bicep, “didn’t you talk to heimer— heim— um…” you mumble, putting your finger to your lip and rubbing your temple, “i can’t remember, vik…”

“heimerdinger?” he asked, tilting his head in confusion. you must be drunk out of your mind if you can’t even remember the professor’s name.

“oh, yes! such a sweet guy… anyway, he talked to you about your new little gadgets, right? how’d that go?”

he knew you’d forget in a few minutes, but responded anyway. he sighed with frustration, “jayce and i showed the professor that the hextech is safe. he approved, of course, but i even found out a way to fortify the crystals, as you might remember me testing it out yesterday. we showed him the gloves and the hex claw—“

“i love the hex claw! it’s sooo cool, i love how you can control it with your own hand!” you comment, smiling and looking up at viktor through your eyelashes.

he blushes and nods, “eh, yes, thank you. we worked hard on it— but, anyways, heimerdinger explained the gadgets will most likely be perfected in a decade. i mean, why can’t we use the equipment now? i understand there are a few things wrong, but they would help the community so much!” he furrows his brows in frustration, eyes squinting.

“awh, baby, i know you worked hard on that. heimer— heim… um…” you forgot his name again, causing your best friend to smirk and chuckle to himself. you place your hand on his chest, “you’re real handsome, vik. don’t understand why people aren’t all over you.”

the way you look up at him with big eyes, your hand on his chest, gets his heart racing. he suddenly feels more nervous with the compliment and your actions. you rub his chest so caringly and keep glancing from his tie to his eyes.

you move closer to him, “your heart’s racing, baby. you nervous?” he bites his lip and glances to where jayce would have sat, trying to avoid your intimidating gaze.

he feels so small around you. not in a bad way, of course, you didn’t break him down, but instead built him up and made him a more confident version of himself. but when you were like this, when you flirt with him like this, his heart melts. he swears he would’ve fallen to his knees if he was standing. he would never admit it to anyone, but you could take over his life, control every single thing he does and he’d still be happy because at least he’d be with you.

“y’know, you’re so sweet, so caring and loving. you’re the smartest person i know, and you don’t get much credit for it. i hope you know i love you and everything you do for me and this city, vikky. i really mean it.”

i love you.

all his problems disappear when you say those three words, and his eyes visibly widen. he doubts you for the first time in his life, and he asks, “did councilor medarda tell you to say this? are you messing with me? because if you are—“

“sweetheart, i’ve never been more serious in my life. you’re my best friend, but i want more. i want you.”

you slowly straddle his lap, hand still perched on his chest. you look deep into his eyes as if you are trying to find his soul hidden inside.

he remembers you once said if you had to merge souls with anyone, it’d be him. you claimed you wouldn’t complain about anything, and you’re practically the same person. it truly was an intimate conversation with him, and you finally spoke out that you wanted to stay with him for eternity. you just wish you knew how.

you rub his chest, wishing you could rip his vest off and feel him, skin-to-skin. you completely forget you are in a public space, however, the chatter and people had died down, and most retreated to their homes already.

you bring a hand up to his cheek, and he can’t help but lean into the comforting feeling of your palm. rubbing his cold cheek, you feel shaking hands on your waist. you grin and glance up to his eyes, then down to his lips multiple times, trying to find any part of him that doesn’t want to go through.

but you can’t find anything, so you close your eyes and softly kiss his lips. you have a party in your head, congratulating yourself for finally kissing him and confessing your feelings. your lips continue to move against his cold ones, and soon you begin to hear soft whimpers from the man.

you grin into the kiss, understanding the effect you have on the scientist. moving your hand to the back of his head, you feel adrenaline coursing and pumping through your veins. this is the most exhilarating moment of your life.

he grips your waist tighter, and one hand moves down to your ass. it lingers for a couple of seconds, waiting to see if you’ll push it off. when you don’t, he grips the plush of your ass hard, and you whimper into the kiss.

he feels proud of himself, loving your reaction to the small action. he brings his other hand under and up your back, feeling the soft skin against his palm.

you feel as if you’re about to lose oxygen and pass out, not wanting to break up the kiss. you push past your wants and desires, moving away from him for a split second. the combo of his tired eyes and plump lips is surely a sight. a string of saliva is still connected to your lips to his, but you don’t care.

god, you need to be closer to him, you need to be one. you grip his shoulder and tugged on his hair, eliciting a moan from his mouth. you push your lips against him, always wanting more from him. you whimper against his lips, however, still being the dominant figure in the action.

moving closer to him, you feel safer, and heat blooms from his chest. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, still keeping a hand in his soft hair. as you move closer to him, your chest pushes against him. he groans, feeling your soft and warm body close to his.

he’s knocked out of his thoughts when he’s reminded that you’re in a public space, and he taps your unclothed arm. you hate to part your lips, but concede, as you need air.

you whine against his chest and bring your hands back to rest on his shoulders. he mumbles and stutters, “s-sweetheart, we really shouldn’t be doing this here. we should go back to your room—“ he looks like he wants to say something more, but he catches himself and bites his tongue.

“i know that look, vik. don’t feel guilty about this, i didn’t have too much to drink, i’m aware of my actions, i’m okay.” you smile up at him and give him a quick peck, more intimate and cherished than the last, “let’s go up to my room.”

he smiles, and you stumble out of the booth, viktor follows right after you. he grabs his cane and stumbles, still nervous and sweaty after the interaction with you. you hold his hand and continue talking to him, rambling about some show of how two characters are gods who represent life and death, who happen to be each other’s spouses.

you recommend he watches the movie, but deep in your mind, you’re still thinking about how you could make yours and viktor’s night even better.

viktor listens to all your words, he always does. but now, he just wants you to shut up, he wants to consume you and become one, as you said a few days ago. he tries to not grip your hand tightly, trying not to express his feelings at the moment, of how badly he wants you.

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 25th. tom — anal sex / sexual punishment.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: basically how i see a tom riddle punishment playing out. biblical tom of sorts. so self assured its impossible to piss him off so you go to lengths some may consider extreme but…eh. he knows you’re his.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, UNI hogwarts (obvs but just a reminder) reader and tom have an…interesting dynamic, toxic but also not toxic because it works for them, anal sex (obvs), sexual punishment, brief fingering, copious amounts of dirty talk, i once again utilize my favourite place in the school (the library).

"Tom—"

With a hand raised, he cuts you off. "Don't."

You blink. Swallow. Blink again. He's mad—oh, yes, he's mad—more than you've ever seen him and you once watched Abraxas Malfoy knock over his potion during a heavily-weighted exam.

That, in currency to this, is pennies.

You breathe in, try again. "Look, I can explain—"

He doesn't let you. Within a second his wand is out and with a flick of his wrist the room shifts to static—the glimmer from the silencing charm he just cast settles over your corner of the library, and you feel your fingers go numb—

"Why'd you stop?" He cocks his head, brow raised. His jaw is tight, the tension there burning into the space between you. His fingers flex. You can feel how much he's holding back. "If there's an explanation, by all means. I'd love to hear it."

Right—yeah, an explanation. That should help. Certainly, the man staring at you like he has bullets for eyes and knives for fingers will understand—he'll be completely calm once you explain to him you kissed someone else in retribution—because you wanted to get back at him.

"Well, I—" you push up from the desk, desperate to feel bigger, to level with him somehow. Tom thrives in this—having the upper hand, knowing all he has to do is stare at you, all stillness and quiet fury. He knows you hate it, that you'll spiral under it until you break and present him your neck on a silver platter. Until you hand him the knife and beg him to cut. "We had that argument, and I thought—I thought, maybe—you didn't—"

He moves closer. The air thickens. You're too focused on the fire in his eyes to acknowledge the sound of his wand clattering onto the desk—

"You thought?" His voice is something almost bored, like this is a trivial exercise for him—you can barely hear him over the roar of your pulse in your throat.

"—that you didn't want me anymore!"

You force the words out in a desperate rush, and the silence that follows feels like a goddamn canyon—you're just staring at each other, scowling in the wake of what you just said because you both know how utterly foolish it sounds. The only person Tom Riddle has and will ever allow himself to be vulnerable in front of—and you thought he'd leave after a silly argument.

No. You never thought that for a second.

And so, you try to save yourself. "Tom—I-I'm sorry, okay? I'm so sorry, I know I fucked up—but, it's not just me—I mean, you could have communicated better—"

He takes another step toward you, nodding along as if he's humoring you. "Right."

You step back—you don't mean to but the depleted space between you feels dangerous and your body reacts before you can stop it.

"Maybe—maybe we can learn from this? Right? A lesson for—for us both?" You keep talking. You don't know why, but you do. "And, maybe you could, uh, learn to talk about your feelings better?"

You wince as his eyebrows shoot up, mocking you without saying a word. Tom Riddle, talking about his fucking feelings? Right.

"I mean—you're just—" you hesitate because you know you're digging your own grave, yet he's still staring, daring you to finish. "—you're just so hard to read, you know?"

Another bored nod, another step closer. "Of course."

You swallow, stumbling back—of course Tom knows he's hard to read, that's the point. Every word out of your mouth is a wasted effort, a desperate attempt to reason with someone who's beyond it. Your ass collides with the desk behind you, boxing you in—and suddenly, he's there, right in front of you, all of his typical Tom intensity pouring into the limited space between you.

His breath brushes against your cheek, close enough that his lips could meet yours. But you know they won't. He'd never make it that easy. You can't tell if it's fear or something more wicked that twists in your chest. Dread, excitement—God, maybe both—

"You tried to provoke me."

Your throat tightens around a swallow. He isn’t asking.

"Maybe."

He doesn't blink. "You tried to see if I'd care."

You open your mouth, only to close it just as quickly. What can you say that he doesn't already know? You're as transparent as glass to him, and even that is a goddamn understatement. All you offer is a slow nod, unsure but weighted—he wasn't looking for an answer, he was looking for submission.

"And you thought, maybe, that I would come to you. That I would react. That l'd be angry." His fingers brush up your cheek, slipping into your hair with the kind of intimacy that feels out of place given the circumstances. And, inevitably, when the pull comes biting at your scalp, it's a burn you enjoy more than you should. "Were you hoping I'd punish you?"

"Well—I-"

"You know, don't you," he tugs your hair again to quiet you. Every question he's asking is rhetorical. "You know that trying to provoke me is dangerous."

You nod, fast. "I know."

"You know that I don't like to be provoked."

"I know, I know, I-"

"Shh." His lips brush over your neck, just once—a soft, fleeting thing that promises everything and nothing at once. You can't help the way you lean into him. "You're just making this worse for yourself. No more talking."

You choke on your stupid ego, but force a nod. You asked for this. You won't fight him on it. Not here. Not now.

"Good." He hums, and you feel your heart dance, stomach leap at the barest flicker of approval in his tone. His breath skates over your jaw, and you try not to shake. "You want to show me how sorry you are, don't you?"

You nod again.

"Good." He tugs at your bottom lip and something curls at the corners of his own that doesn't quite qualify as a smile. "Turn around."

With your heart on the floor beneath your feet, you nod for a final time before doing as he asked. You find that turning is a difficult task, though not due to resistance—your body just won't cooperate—a mess of weak knees and shallow breaths and tingling skin. You do it, though, with his hand on your hip, guiding you, directing you, pushing you over the desk until you're bent at the waist, positioned just how he wants.

It's merely a moment before you feel him pressed against your back, feel his belt buckle digging into your ass—

"What do you think I should do to you?" His breath grazes the nape of your neck and reflexively, you arch into him—his hands slide up your thighs, hips, finding your waist and the band of your skirt—he tugs at your zipper, you remain quiet. You know he doesn't want you to answer. "I'm sure you had your hopes. Your assumptions."

Tom Riddle, you've determined, is a torturous lover—a slow hand, a tease until you're in tears from the overstimulation. A sort of devotee to fulfilling your needs while simultaneously tempering his own. He's so very restrained, in everything he does—not fervent, not right away, anyway—

"Maybe you hoped I'd degrade you. Remind you of your place." He tugs down the zipper, letting the fabric fall to the ground at your feet—you shudder and pull your lips tight, willing yourself to stay silent as the cool air hits you. Tom's hand roams over one of your asscheeks, pawing lazily before tapping his palm against it. “Maybe you wanted me to make you feel it."

—he only rushes—he's only careless when he's angry.

And god, he's angry now.

"Maybe." You force the reply through the sting he left on your skin. It's past midnight—quiet is everything but you two, and you're almost certain he locked the door behind him on the way in. You let your head bow, eyes fixed on the wood under your palms. "Maybe I do."

"Of course you do. You've never been subtle." His foot nudges yours further apart, his fingers trailing up your thigh, finding the damp ache between your legs. Your breath catches but you hold still, biting your tongue as he teases—digits gliding through your slit, swirling your clit. "I know you thought about it."

"About what?" You try, though the question barely gets out before his other hand smacks the thick of your ass again, harder this time. "Shit—"

"About what I'd do to you." The hand on your clit shifts to smooth over the sting, rubbing slow, while the other works the buckle of his belt. "Tell me what you wanted."

"I—" you pause, steadying, gathering yourself. You know you have to give him something, but it's hard to think when he's like this. "I—I wanted you to be...careless."

"Careless." He says it like he's savouring it, rolling it over his tongue like candy. It's not a word that suits him; you're not convinced he even knows how. "You want me to be rough—to be selfish. Like you were."

The moment his belt is loose you feel those slender fingers dip back into your slit, two of them pushing inside your cunt without warning, stretching you open as his trousers slip down his thighs— he grunts low, a sound that cuts into the quiet as his cock springs free and he presses it against you, unoccupied hand slipping back into your hair, pulling you up until you're flush with him.

"Yes." You're not sure who sounds more hollow for it—your voice for asking, his for granting it. "I want that. I deserve it. Please. Please—"

"Please. It's always please with you," he mocks, the words a hiss that burn your cheeks. "Yet, I don't get to be selfish like you, do I? I still have to show restraint."

"I mean—oh—fu—" you choke as his lips find your neck, muttering something against your skin before you feel the sudden cool slip of a lubing charm coating your asshole and cunt. "Tom-"

"Despite what you might believe, I've never had much in the way of patience," he breathes, a confession almost, something deeper—something that feels like it costs him. "Not when it comes to you."

"Tom—" you fucking gasp his name as he pulls his fingers from your cunt—only to drag them higher until they find your asshole. Despite his haste he's still at ease, massaging, pressing one finger against it until you let him in. He sinks slowly, curling slightly, and your thighs shake—lungs deflate. "Oh—oh, fuck, Tom—it's been—"

"A while, hasn't it?" He finishes, pressing a kiss just beneath your ear, his finger sliding all the way in. "So tight for me. So—tight—"

"Tom—" a repetition of the last one, his name spilling from you like it’s the only goddamn word you know how to say. "Please, Tom. Oh god—"

"Shhh." He shushes, but it's not to quiet you; you know that. He's savouring this. He slips in a second finger, stretching you wider, working you open, and you're biting your lip to keep from crying out. "This isn't about you."

"You—" your voice breaks on another gasp, hands clutching at the desk. "—you think this is punishment."

"Partially." His muses as his fingers scissor, filling you with the most delicious ache. You're so slick, arousal running down your thighs, and that—oh no, that does not escape his notice. "Look at you, dripping for me. And yet,"

"Oh god." The realization crashes over you—it’s punishment as in orgasm denial. "That's—that's not—"

"Not fair?" There's a smirk in his voice, and though he doesn't say it, you hear the word that lingers beneath it: pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. He pulls his fingers out and you whine, feeling empty for half a second before the head of his cock glides against your slit, gathering your juices before finding its way up to the throbbing ring of muscle. "Isn't this what you wanted? For me to be selfish?"

"I just—" words scatter, useless, because you're trembling, breathing hard, and then he's pressing in, slow enough to save you pain but fevered enough to make you feel him. "Oh—oh—"

"Oh fuck." He says it breathless, as if it's an agony to fit himself inside of you. "Oh yes."

And it is an agony—for both of you, though for very different reasons. Tom is huge, and even on a good day, it's a struggle to take him. He's so deep, filling you in ways you'd forgot were possible. You struggle to hold yourself upright—legs visibly shaking, teeth gritting. He sinks all the way in, and in your mind, you can almost see the look on his face, the way his lashes flutter, the way his head tips back—

"Ah—“ he groans, a rough sound that's followed by a huff and a slight roll of his hips, like he's holding back, like he can't bring himself to move just yet. He yanks you up against him by your hair. "That's fucking tight, isn't it? This must be hell for you."

He's not wrong, it is. But it's hellish for Tom too, the type of hell the two of you inflict on eachother that is as fucking addicting as it is anything else—

"Just—" you manage to bite out breathlessly, but it's a struggle to make the words. "Move—"

"Make me," he grits, jerking your head to the side until your foreheads press together. "Convince me to use you. Tell me how badly you want it. How much of a whore you are for it."

Merlin help you, you moan at his words. It's that thing inside you—the needy, desperate part that's dying at his feet. You don't know what it is or why it's there; it just is, and it's greedy. It's not something you'd give into normally—your ego is far too big to give him the satisfaction of begging, not aloud—never in words that he could use against you later—but in these moments, you both learn to make exceptions.

"Dear god, Tom—please, just use me-" you push your hips back against him, one of his hands slide up your stomach, cupping your tits. "Please, l'm—I'm a pathetic, begging whore for you. God, I know you're pissed—I feel it—just take it out on me—l want it—"

He moans—a soft, almost gentle sound—and you know you've struck a nerve, the part of him that's equally as weak in the moment—the part of him that makes it all too easy for things to spiral like this.

"Goddamn you." Something inside him snaps, something that's been frayed, just waiting for a pull—and you've pulled it now, and oh you want, no, you need him to make you pay for it, to make it hurt. "You just—you always-"

He grunts, cutting himself off and in a way, it's almost like he's thanking you because you're giving him an outlet, something to take it out on. You test each other, push and pull and let the other break, because, at the end of the day, it always comes down to this. The two of you. Like this.

A sharp inhale, and he starts to thrust.

"Fuck!" it's all you manage, it's all you can manage, because it—just like that—feels the way you wanted it to feel but it also feels so much more intense, so intense that your brain can't keep up. "Oh god—oh fuck-"

"Fucking hell," he spits, like you're the worst thing in his world and the best thing all at once, and somehow, that makes perfect sense. He lets go of your hair, and you slump forward onto the desk, elbows barely holding you up as his hand smacks your ass, fingers spreading you apart. "So—so tight—“

You're a shuddering mess, helpless to it; all you can do is remember to breathe through it.

"That's it." Another smack to your ass, thrusts quick and deep. "Fuck. The things you drive me to do."

You know him so well—and he knows you just as damn well, and that's the point, isn't it? That's what this is all about. You're the perfect mix of wrong, a match that burns too hot it hurts but the ache makes him feel alive.

"I want to cum—" your neglected clit is begging for it, you’re fucking begging for it. "Tom please—"

At that, he laughs and it's mean and it's condescending and you love—God—how you love it and want it and can't get enough of it. His hips snap forward a little bit rougher and you lose a bit more of your sanity—

"You think you deserve to come, after what you did?" Another smack to your ass.

You don't know how to answer, and he doesn't wait for one anyway. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you—everything is so calculated and calculated and calculated. You've never once seen him falter, and you don't expect to see it now. You don't know if you'd survive it if you did.

"No." He answers for you. "You don't."

His fingers trace around your thigh, grazing your mound and finding your needy clit, your sopping slit, gliding through it—you moan louder than you should as he gathers your slick on his fingers, humming at what he finds there before retreating—bringing them up to your mouth.

"Open."

You open your mouth and he feeds you your need—the result of his selfishness. You love him for what he is and you love him for what he isn’t too. How he tries to be both, only when you ask.

"Taste that?" It's a whisper, something he's telling you.

You sob around his fingers as he fucks your ass deep—he pulls them out to let you respond. You nod. "Yes."

"Taste how much you want this?"

"Yes." A pathetic moan. The perfect response.

"Good girl." He presses the words into your hair, the back of your neck, along your spine. He sucks in a breath as he fucks like he needs it just to speak. "You're going to remember this the next time you think about doing something just to spite me, I hope you know that."

Of course you will. He knows it, you know it—there's no doubt in your mind that you'll remember this the next time you toy with his patience; the next time you give him a reason to discipline you again. And what's worse is: you'll do it anyway.

It's a battle you two will fight for eternity.

But you don't get a chance to respond, not that you'd have one anyways—because his hand is on your throat and his lips are at your ear and he's sucking in air through his teeth and then—

"I'm going to cum." He whispers and you hear the pain in it. "Fuck."

You shiver in reply; a whine of a whimper coming from the back of your throat. “Tom—“

"Shh." He shushes you with his free hand, gripping your jaw as his thrusts turn sloppy, erratic. "Fucking take it.”

God—you’ll take it. Of course you will. You asked for this, drove him to this point. You're both sick, but this is the kind that doesn't have a cure.

One of his hands moves to his own hair, tugging at the back of his head; it's the only hint you've had this whole time of how much he's affected by this, how much it's driven him mad. He's doing his best to keep control, to maintain composure and make sure you feel it—but it's the way his hand squeezes your hip when he lets go of your throat that gives him away.

It gives in to what he's been repressing.

"Ohhh—fuck—yes—" and then you feel it, feel him, hot and sticky and warm, filling your ass and holding you there until he’s finished. His body collapses against the back of yours, hips slow rolling until he's drained—until you’ve taken all of him, all of his anger and frustration and restraint along with it. He’s sweaty, exhausted, spent—forehead pressed to your hair. "You feel that?"

"You know I do." You're not allowed to sound so smug, not while you're in the position you're in, but you are. It’s why he loves you. "That's what you were looking for."

"No, that's what you were looking for." He nips your ear, and you hear the smile in his voice when he bites down on it and murmurs a, "and that's why you're my favourite," into it.

"And you mine, Tommy."

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: You Look Like You Love Me

Request: "I wondered if you could do a Tyler Owens fic where it’s the end of the day and everyone’s exhausted from chasing all day and stuff. Readers just gotten out of the shower and is in her sleep dress, hair wet and decides to join all the storm chasers/ the team out by the bonfire so she throws one of Tyler’s flannels on, puts her boots on and goes to find Tyler and once she does there’s a slow song that comes on the speaker (I feel like they’d have music playing that the whole parking lot can hear) and it just ends with them slow dancing by the fire looking into each others eyes and talking about their future, JTyler just has this look on his face knowing he is going to marry this woman one day<3"

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

A/N: thanks for the request, this was such a cute idea / fun plot to write :) Enjoy!! 

“You comin’?” Tyler asked, giving your hand a slight squeeze and nodding towards the group of people already clustered around the fire. 

You offered a small smile, which was about all you were capable of after the long day you’d had. 

“I’m really tired,” you explained. “Think I’m just gonna grab a shower then crash.”

You didn’t miss the look of disappointment that flashed across his face. But it was quickly replaced by a gentle nod. “Course, let me just grab our stuff, then I’ll head up.”

“No, you stay,” you encouraged him, nodding towards the group. “This is right up your alley, don’t miss out because I’m a tired slug.”  

Tyler tipped his head to the side affectionately. “You’re about the cutest tired slug I think I’ve ever seen,” he said in a tone that was far too serious for the context. 

You shook your head, lips tugging into a grin as you pulled your hand away from his to adjust the bag slung over your shoulder. “Shut up,” you mumbled adoringly before nodding towards the fire. “Look, they have music goin’. Why don’t you go slow dance with Boone or something?” 

“Yeah alright,” Tyler agreed, taking a step backwards. His tongue poked through his teeth in the same way that, even after almost two years together, still made your stomach flip. “I’ll be up in a little while.”

“Have fun,” you called before he turned and began walking towards where everyone else had gathered. 

Meanwhile, you had the pleasure of trudging up a flight of stairs to get to the room Tyler had booked for the night. After nearly eight hours of driving that day, the muscles in your legs felt wobbly as you made the ascent. But when you finally were able to climb into the room’s shower– the warm water rinsing off all the dirt and sweat you’d acquired for the day, you sighed out a breath of relief. 

Although you appreciated how good it felt, you didn’t waste time in the shower. Instead, you quickly lathered up your hair, rinsed it out, and scrubbed yourself clean before grabbing a towel from the rack and drying off. Before long, you had your wet hair combed out, pajamas on, and were crawling into the queen bed positioned in the center of the room. You climbed in with full intentions of passing out without a second thought. 

However, to your absolute dismay, that wasn't the case. Instead, you tossed and turned, almost nodding off– but then reaching for someone that wasn't there yet. Eyes snapping open, you sighed defeatedly. It wasn’t uncommon for you to have a hard time sleeping without Tyler. But with how exhausted you felt, you’d been hopeful. 

You laid there for about half an hour before giving up. You were just growing increasingly frustrated and knew that no amount of laying there without him was going to work. 

So instead, you climbed out of bed, grabbed Tyler’s flannel, which laid conveniently at the top of your bag and threw your boots back on. Your hair was still damp when you left the room. Luckily the June air was warm– even after the sun had gone down. As you climbed back down the stairs, noise from the fire and people gathered filled your ears. You heard music coming through a nearby speaker and the collective murmuring and laughter from each conversation blurring together in a loud hum. 

As you approached the crowd, it didn’t take long before you spotted Tyler and the rest of the crew. He was sitting back in a camp chair, dimples on full display as he laughed at something Lilly was saying in the chair next to him. Boone was crouched on the sand, knees tucked into his chest while he used a stick to poke at the fire. Dani was kicked back in an adirondack chair, sipping casually on a beer. Meanwhile, Dexter was nowhere to be seen– presumably already gone to bed for the night. 

Wrapping his flannel tighter yourself, you began weaving your way through the crowd of people and towards him. Tyler spotted you after only a moment, like his eyes were born to find you in a crowd. At first his gaze was worried, eyebrows knitting together in a look of concern. 

“There she is!” Boone announced your arrival like your own personal cheerleader. 

You offered a smile and mumbled a weak hello before heading right for Tyler. 

“Hey baby,” he said. He moved like he was going to get up, but before he could, you walked to his side and plopped yourself down across his knees. Instantly, his hand found your waist while you wrapped your arms around his neck, nestling your face into the crook of his shoulder. 

“Everything okay?” he murmured, lips lingering along your hairline. He ran a hand up your back soothingly. 

You nodded, inhaling the scent of him. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Ah,” Tyler said, already knowing that what you really meant was, just couldn’t sleep without you. “We can head up, if you want. Let me grab my stuff.”

But you shook your head. Pulling away from him long enough to watch the scene around you. “No, it’s nice out here. Let’s stay a little longer.”

You felt his lips connect with your temple. “Whatever you want, baby.”

“Did you and Boone get to slow dance?” you asked, a hint of playfulness evident in your tone. 

Tyler snorted. “No, we hadn’t gotten the chance yet.”

“Shame,” you muttered groggily. “You’re such a good dancer.” 

“Well you know I’d much prefer to dance with you.”

“Hey,” Boone piped in. “Now see? I know y’all are the world’s cutest couple and all that bullshit. But that right there very much hurts my feelings, T.” 

You both laughed at his antics. 

“Sorry, Boone,” Tyler said. “You’ve got tough competition.”

“Aw, c’mon Boone,” Lilly said. “Don’t let them get to ya. Dani and I will dance with you– c’mon.” 

Together, the three of them got up and joined the crowd of people dancing, leaving you and Tyler alone. 

“Alright, Owens,” you said, mustering up the strength to climb off his lap. “Our turn. Show me what kind of dance moves you got.”

He let you drag him towards a quieter part of the lawn. Using one hand, Tyler gripped your waist and pulled you close. With the other, he cupped your hand to hold out from him. Gently, he began swaying you back and forth to the beat of the song. 

“I don’t know if you’ve ever told me who taught you to dance,” you observed. 

“My mom,” he replied softly. His green eyes sparkled– the same way they did anytime he talked about his mom. 

“I’d never wanted to go to any of the school dances– never had an interest. I was always workin’ the farm or out with friends. But in my junior year of high school, I was trying to impress this girl. Her name was Sally Wakefield– so, I bought us a coupla’ tickets to the prom without even asking her first.”

“What?” you laughed. 

“I know, I know–” he said. “I got the order a little backwards there. Anyway, I went to my mom and told her I had a date to the prom and that I had to learn how to dance before. So, we spent an entire weekend in the living room. She had me push all the furniture– the couch and table and all the chairs, to the side and make a little dance floor. She put her Elton John records on repeat and that's how I learned to dance.” 

“That’s really sweet,” you smiled, just imagining teenage-Tyler slow dancing in the living room with his mom. 

“Yeah, well it didn’t end so sweet. I asked Sally Wakefield to prom the next Monday at school and she laughed in my face,” he chuckled. “So all that hard work went right to waste.”

You scoffed. “Fuck Sally Wakefield.” 

“I actually ran into her at the market a few years back– she was really nice. She’s married, has a few kids now..”

“It was for cathartic effect, Tyler. But if you insist– fuck high-school version of Sally Wakefield.”

“Oh–” he nodded. “Right. Yeah, fuck high school Sally Wakefield.”

“Plus,” you added, melting a little inside as soon as your eyes connected with his. “I don’t think all that hard work went to waste. I, for one, really enjoy dancing with you.” 

His face beamed as he gazed down at you softly. “Remember that night we went line dancin’ when we were down in Austin?”

You let out a bubble of laughter as you leaned into his embrace. “Oh my God, and Boone slipped on the lemonade that lady spilled–”

Tyler chuckled. “Him and his beer went flyin’.”

“I swear I have never seen a human being hit the ground that hard,” you said through your laughter. 

“Me either–”

“Remember when we went to your cousin's wedding– and they had that live band and an entire dance floor and we were like… the only people using it? Everyone else just stayed at their tables.”

Tyler shook his head. “Still can’t believe that.”

“Yeah, I mean ninety-five degrees or not… if I go to a wedding, I’m dancing.”

“What about your wedding?” Tyler asked suddenly, gaze softening as he peered down at you. 

Something in your chest fluttered. It wasn’t the first time Tyler had mentioned weddings or marriage, but every time he did, it pleasantly reminded you that you two were in this for the long haul. 

“What about my wedding?” you said, trying to sound casual. 

“Will there be lots of dancing at your wedding?” 

You pulled back gently from Tyler’s embrace, just enough so that you could get a better look at him. You marveled at how handsome he really was– especially under the soft, flickering glow from the fire. 

“Of course there’ll be dancing– lots of it. I wouldn’t want all your mom’s hard work to go to waste now would I?”

Tyler’s swaying slowed as he took a moment to really study you. His gaze was soft and sweet and intimate all at once. Unable to help yourself, your face broke out into an even wider grin.

“What?” he wondered.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, biting your lip. “You’re just lookin’ at me like you love me. And that makes me smile.” 

Tyler beamed. “I love you so much– you know that, right?” 

Without even hesitating you nodded. “Course I do,” you replied, leaning your head against his chest and allowing him to tighten his hold on you. “I love you, too.”

For a few more minutes, the two of you swayed casually to the music. Tyler’s embrace was safe and warm and comforting, and the longer you danced like that, the more tired you became. 

“Think we’ll see anything tomorrow?” you yawned sleepily into his shirt. You felt his cheek rest on top of your head, nestling you into the crook of his neck.  

Tyler clicked his tongue above you. “I don’t think so. Dexter wasn’t tracking anything on the radar, but you never know.” 

“What if we just had a slow day tomorrow? We could just sleep in and hang out here for another day? I saw they had a pool out back– that’d keep Boone entertained.” 

“That’s not a bad idea,” he said. “I think we could make that work.” 

You smiled against his skin, eyelids growing heavier and heavier. Gradually, you began leaning more and more of your weight against him, until finally, he gave your back a gentle rub. 

“Let’s say you and I head up to the room, yeah?”

You nodded against him, too tired to reply. 

“There we go,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You leaned into his side, letting him guide the way. He called goodnight to everyone for you before practically carrying you up the flight of stairs towards the room. 

When you were finally inside, Tyler helped you climb into bed. You frowned when he didn’t immediately follow. Instead, you watched him head into the bathroom and close the door. 

With how tired you were– you were surprised you didn’t fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. But the longer you laid there without Tyler, the more awake you felt. 

After only a few short minutes, he emerged from the bathroom and crossed the room quietly. 

“You’re not asleep yet?” he asked, peeling back the covers and climbing into bed beside you. “Thought you’d be snorin’ by the time I came back.”

Without replying, you scooted across the bed until you were wrapped back up in his embrace. You felt arms wound around your waist, anchoring you to him. You smelled his aftershave and mouthwash as you nuzzled into his chest. You heard the sound of his heartbeat, even through the fabric of his T-shirt. His presence totally engulfed all of your senses– and you knew that was exactly how it should be. 

As you finally drifted off, all you knew was Tyler, Tyler, Tyler. 

And what a wonderful thing to know. 

[lace-coffin]

Hi! Can I ask how the slashers would feel if they ever accidentally hurt their s/o? Gender and everything is up to you!

How slashers would react to Accidently hurting their S/O

Thank you so much for my first ever request ah! I hope you enjoy 💖

Requests are open!

Warning for blood/injury - mild sexual content/reference to sexual activity and power dynamics -unhealthy relationships (I think?)

Reader is gender neutral!

Bubba sawyer

Most likely happened via Bubba playing too hard and Accidently pushing you over or being a bit too heavy handed with you. If it’s a case of them mistaking you for a victim and catching you with their chainsaw before being able to stop then they’ll be even more in inconsolable : (

Stops and stares for a minute to process what’s happened before devolving into full blown panic.

She’ll drop whatever she’s doing to carry you back to the house, even if that means letting the victim escape and having Drayton yell at her.

Will hurriedly explain in rushed sign to either Choptop or Nubbins to go take care of the victim as he’s busy caring for you.

Checks you over frantically. Please explain you’re going to be ok and help them calm down.

Once he knows you’re not in any danger he’ll feel absolutely awful about it and whine apologies to you even if you tell him that it’s ok and it wasn’t their fault.

Please comfort them once you feel better and reassure them.

Will insist you come up with a verbal and nonverbal sign to give if they’re accidently messing around to hard.

Will make you agree to stay in the house out of the way when victims are around so you don’t Accidently get hurt again.

Thomas Hewitt

After another night of Hoyt berating him for things out of his control, Tommy storms off to the basement to cool off. You follow after him, intending to comfort and wanting to help. You place a hand on his shoulder without thinking, forgetting he doesn’t enjoy physical touch without warning, thinking it might help. Whipping around he grabs your wrist a little too hard, causing you to wince.

He snatches his hand back as soon as he realises what he’s done.

Tommy will bring you to Luda may to have her check you over and assess the damage.

Once he knows you’re safe he’ll confine himself to the basement for a few days, only coming out to eat but even then it’s tense.

He’s truly sorry and feels like all those people who called him a monster and an animal were right, he hurt the one he cares about most, after all.

After a few days apart, a lot of hushed words of affirmation and kisses/nose bumps he’ll feel comfortable being with you again.

You know to let him cool off by himself and come to you when he’s ready after a heated argument now.

Michale Myers

You jump out at Michael thinking it would be funny to catch the shape off guard for once and not the other way around. Unfortunately this backfires and he swings his knife at you, thinking it may be an intruder since you’ve never pulled something like this before, You manage to jolt out of the way but the knife still catches you in the shoulder. Thankfully, it’s only superficial and will heal, but it still looks like it needs medical attention.

Initially Michael looks at you unamused, granted it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling underneath the mask. He gives you a kind of “well If you weren’t being dumb this wouldn’t have happened” attitude. However this is a front for the actual panic he refuses to show on the surface.

Having a few cuts and scratches isn’t super uncommon when your with Michael considering his tastes involving knives in bed ; )

Usually hurting others comes naturally and without remorse to Michael, so it shakes him to his core that he’s actively worrying about your wellbeing instead of feeling the usual indifference.

It disturbs him that he actually cares about someone enough to feel remorse for his actions.

After unceremoniously pulling your shirt off and looking the wound over he forces you go to A&E, practically marching your ass out the door.

Since he’s basically an escaped criminal he can’t exactly casually walk in the hospital with you, however he will stalk you the entire time, lurking close by to make sure you arrive and leave safely.

Although he usually has his guard up he vows to try be a little less bristly with you from now on if it means he doesn’t have to see you hurt and feel that awful tug of regret/worry in his chest.

Jason voorhees

You went out looking for Jason one night after he hadn’t returned to the cabin by his usual time. You were worried he’d been overpowered by a group of trespassers or caught in a trap and didn’t have any way to communicate that to you. The woods were beautiful but so dense and vast, getting lost or injured in the thick of them may as well be a death sentence.

Whilst searching for your missing partner you get your leg snagged in a bear trap he had set out previously for the trespassers. You howl in pain as you hear the sickening snap of your ankle between the traps jaws.

Jason was trudging his way back to the cabin when he heard it. Knowing that wasn’t a rougue teen as he’d cleared them out already, alarm bells went off in his head. He stormed to scene as fast as he could.

He could have sworn his undead heart stopped for the second time as he saw you sitting there in agony, murky blood seeping into the forest floor.

He rushes to your side and looks frantically between the trap and your teary face, he knows he’s going to have to disengage the traps and for you it’s going to be..less than pleasent.

He signs for you to grip onto his arm for support. Since he’s already dead and regenerates fairly quickly he feels it’s the least he can do to let you grip his arm for dear life as he wrenches the trap from your shattered ankle. If you cause any damage to his arm (which is very unlikely) it will heal up in no time anyway.

Once he’s carried you back to the cabin he’ll be frantically following Pamela’s directions in his head for what to do and how to clean/ wrap it.

If the damage is extensive he’ll relent and let you go to the hospital, only if a trusted friend takes you though, he’ll be sitting by the window of your shared cabin every minute until you return back to him.

You’re no longer aloud to be out in the woods after dark alone if he’s set traps. You both carry whistles now so if he’s not home and you need to know he’s safe you can whistle to each other and feel more at ease.

Billy Lenz

Interacting with Billy when he’s having an episode is never a good idea. You thought it would be fine to just be in the room though, providing you stay out of his way. As you enter, Billy is in the midst of trashing his attic once again, the disgusting feelings bubbling in his chest too much to bear. You enter just as he’s angrily thrown an old glass christmas ornament at the floor that the sorority had kept in storage. It shatters and flecks of sparkling glass scatter along the floor. One piece catching you in the hand in a nasty glass splinter. You swear under your breath and rush off to take care of it.

Billy doesn’t even realise what’s happened until you return to him, him now having exhausted himself and you knowing it’s safe to try do some damage control. You bring him a sandwich and juice knowing he’ll need it after all the energy and tears he just used up.

Your hands touch as he’s accepting the plate from you with a muted “thank you” and he notices the bandage.

Billy essentially bristles up like an angry cat at the idea of someone hurting his piggy and demands to know who did it and what happened.

Once you tell him it was actually from the ornament he feels horrible. He doesn’t even remember it happening with the state he was in.

He snuggles into the crook of your neck and mumbles apologies into your skin.

Billy will place sloppy kisses over it as an apology until you forgive him. (Not exactly hygenic since it’s an open wound but i mean…you’re dating the attic rat)

Brahms Heelshire

When living with Brahms there isn’t usually much to injure yourself on considering the estate is fairly out of the way from the rest of the village. You most likely caught yourself on a pair of sheers. Brahms is being stubborn about you being out of the house and slings the sheers in your general direction from the door frame when you ask for them. You don’t even notice you sliced your hand when catching them until you see a patch of blood soaking through your gardening gloves about ten minutes later.

You come in to grab a tea towel to wrap your bleeding finger in, not really fazed as it’s only a small cut. Brahms was lurking from the window as you tended to the hedges, not wanting to be away from you but not yet brave enough to tempt leaving the house he’s been in all these years.

As soon as he sees it he’s panicking, it’s only a little cut and you’re not concerned in the slightest but to Brahms you may as well have just came in with an arm missing. He’s instantly flittering around you asking if you’re ok and if you need a hospital.

You stifle your laugh at his over the top concern, you find it rather sweet, it’s not his fault he’s a little bit sheltered.

After cleaning the cut and bandaging it, it’s totally fine. If anything Brahms needs more reassuring and coddling than you do to get him to settle.

He apologises a thousand times for his attitude because he knows If he hadn’t been stroppy about you leaving the house and passed the sheers nicely then you wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. He promises to try be more composed when he starts getting antsy.

He may need some ✨punishment✨ in order to encourage his behaviour change and to feel forgiven.

He begrudgingly lets you back outside to garden after about a week.

Asa Emory

If you’re the pet of Asa then it’s likely that most of your injuries are purposefully given from him and are no mistake. You’re poked and prodded often considering your residency in the collection. Wounds from experiments and correctional punishments when you disobey or refuse to submit are not uncommon at all. So it doesn’t bother him since he inflicted them. This also assures he cleans them with clinical precision. If you were anyone else he would leave the wounds to fester, if you died from a complication then that was just inconvenient. Not you though, you’ve caught his attention and heart. He loves you in his own domineering way.

If the wound was created by him on accident then he would give himself a hard time, chastising himself for his carelessness.

For example, if he had more trouble with law enforcement than he thought and that led to you to spending way more time in the trunk than you usually do, causing you to develop a sore from sitting in one cramped position for too long.

Asa would realise you’re injured once you’re let out of the trunk, hissing in pain as you stretch. He makes you show him where you’re hurting so he can inspect over it.

Despite Asa’s stony face his stomach is actively sinking. He knows you’re hurt because of him and it wasn’t purposeful or measured like it would be during a punishment. He sees this as failure in his pet care and it takes a blow to his god complex. Gods don’t make mistakes, but here he is, hurting his dolly by being so out of it.

He’ll make sure to clean it for you and even stop putting you in the trunk for a while. This does however still mean you’ll be attached to him via leash or chain connected to the ring sitting on his belt. Just because you’re hurt and his favourite toy, doesn’t mean he will except anything less than your complete and total submission.

He’ll be more tender and soft handed with you than usual for a while after. Punishments will be withheld until you heal. Then it’s back to normal routine as expected.

Predator/yautja

You were wearing a new perfume you’d picked up at the market during the day, You were only supposed to be getting meats and maybe a new fur for the bed but once the alien at the stand had convinced you to sample it you fell in love with it.

Your mate picks up on an unknown scent entering the house, hackles raising and stalking towards it. As soon as they catch the heat signature they throw a wrist blade in warning.

Their eyes widen in horror, rushing to the door as they catch scent of your tangly blood dripping onto the hardwood floor of your shared home.

The new perfume masked your familiar scent from them, making them believe the house was in danger and being intruded on. If their face could loose colour it would, cringing as they see the wrist blade sticking through your palm, groceries discarded at the door.

They start talking at you in rapid clicks before they realise you can’t actually understand. After making sure to keep the object in your hand so you don’t bleed out and that you’re not going to pass out on them, they insist on carrying you their medic instead of going to an ooman one.

They argue that their medicine is far more advanced and will heal your wound much more efficiently then your “ primitive ooman medicine”

Thanks to yautja medicine being far more advanced, It will heal like nothing ever happened in around two weeks. The wound stitched shut and given some kind of injection.

Your mate purrs and clicks for you deep from their chest the entire time you’re having the blade removed to try calm you.

They beg for forgiveness despite it literally being an accident and will need some reassurance that they haven’t failed you as a mate. Once you’re all healed up they’ll bring back an impressive skull from a hunt as an apology even if you’ve already forgiven them.

Whilst it’s healing you’re probably going be kept in the nest of furs and pulled tightly against them whilst they purr and sooth you.

My requests are open if you’d like to send any prompts or ideas for me to write!

[goingmerryfics]

How would Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, and even Ace feel when they see their S/O wearing their clothes for the first time in the beginning of their relationship, like a shirt or a hat (if Luffy and Ace allow their s/o to wear it?)

S/O wearing their clothes for the first time - Luffy, Sanji, & Ace

Content: fluffy established relationship moments, they love you! Sanji is a perv but lovingly <3

Notes* hiiii so I can only do up to 3 characters in a request, and after thought I decided to go with these three :) I love Zoro but I couldn’t figure out what article of clothing to write about, so maybe part 2??

Luffy

If it were someone he didn’t know or wasn’t close to, Luffy would immediately feel like they were invading his personal space and demand that hat right back

Even with other crewmates, he only really lets Nami touch his hat and that’s only if need be

But when it comes to you, it’s different

He knows you’ll respect and keep it safe, but it’s a hard feeling to explain. He would trust his whole crew with his hat if need be, but he only wants you to have it

He doesn’t really understand the feeling, he just likes seeing you in it sometimes

Since his hat is so important to him, seeing his partner wear it would make him feel extremely happy that they recognize its meaning

It also solidifies the idea in his head that you’ll be at his side when he becomes the pirate king

For Luffy, love is about sharing his adventures and dreams. Seeing that hat on your head is the loudest declaration of love that he could ever know

Sanji

Sanji doesn’t have very many comfy clothes and he doesn’t have a hat you can wear, but there’s something about wearing his dress shirts to bed that’s extremely comfortable

Maybe it’s because they smell like his cologne, or because they’re baggy on you, but you always steal a clean one to shirt in

He loves it. 

He always ends up with a nosebleed when he sees your sleepy face in nothing but his shirt, draping past your thighs with just a small pair of shorts on under them

That view of your legs, how his shirt swallows you up

You could practically see the steam coming out of his nose while his face turns bright red, heated by the blush in his cheeks

He will definitely say a few pervy things without shame and Nami would probably have to shut him up

Ace

Ace is the one who puts the hat on your head more than you taking it to do so

He likes seeing you in something of his, and his hat is the one thing that he doesn’t mind sharing at all

If you can ignore the sweaty smell, you’re good. His Devil Fruit doesn’t help with that, being hot all the time and all

He makes a show out of it whenever he needs to protect you from anyone by taking off his hat and placing it on your head before diving into a fight

He’s had that hat ever since he set off, and he intends to wear it until the end of his journey. Seeing you in it as well just adds to his growing memories that he’s going to make along his journey

He doesn’t like it when you wear your own hats or hair pieces because he wants your head to be free just in case he feels the need to see you in his hat

It’s a symbol of their strong connection, and that you are truly part of his life, not just a passing moment

[demonic0angel]

Everyone talking shit about Clockwork shoving time missions on the Phantoms. Nobody ever talks about how hard he works to keep space/time from collapsing in on itself from bad timelines.

(You’re right 😔 he needs some appreciation. I had a lot of fun with this one lmao)

Part 3 of this post and this post.

Clockwork resisted the urge to sigh as he watched another world implode via the timeline shifting from the speed force. He silently sent another note to his children workers to solve the problem. As he monitored the situation in other worlds, he kept an eye on the collapsing timeline.

Soon enough, Dan swooped in before the catalyst to beat the crap out of the person who had accidentally created a zombie apocalypse and then he was stomping his feet and throwing a rage-induced tantrum within the poor scientist’s lab, destroying everything. He was shouting and overturning tables, but couldn’t be heard through the time stream.

Clockwork resisted a sigh again. He didn’t like overworking his children employees so much either, but it had to be done.

Just as Dan left the world to rejoin his boyfriend, Clockwork continued to watch the other timelines. Three more worlds suddenly took a turn for the worst and Clockwork sent more messages to the rest of his children workers in order to fix it. He paused as the door to his lair opened and Dan burst inside.

Clockwork tried not to tense. Dan was his most volatile child employee, and he was prone to attacking anything that enraged him. Jazz had once explained that it was his coping mechanism as a decade of grief and loneliness had completely corrupted his impulse control.

Clockwork turned, pretending that he didn’t feel apprehensive about Dan’s presence. “Is there a problem…?”

Dan strode forward with a cool, almost indifferent expression. Without warning, Dan threw himself forward and onto Clockwork’s lap. Clockwork tensed, but Dan only held onto him tightly, wrapping his arms around his waist and then burying his face into his ghostly stomach.

The presence of his child someone near his stomach made him recoil tightly, but he held still.

“Clockworkkkkkk,” Dan whined. “Can’t I kill the Flashes? Please? Just one! I’ll settle for killing Wally West. Can I please kill him?”

Clockwork couldn’t help the chuckle that burst out of him. “No, you cannot. They are vital for that world’s survival.”

“They’re not vital to my sanity!”

The door burst open again and his other three children poured in, also having just finished fixing another world from collapsing. Dani immediately gasped at seeing Dan in his lap. “What! I want Clockwork cuddles too!”

The three of them joined their brother in crowding him and cuddling him, until eventually, he had all four of his children within his embrace. Clockwork released a sigh as he was forced onto his back and rubbed at Danny’s hair, who was lying on his spectral tail. Jazz leaned against him unhappily, and both Dani and Dan were laying on his stomach.

“I’m sorry for overworking you four,” Clockwork said, despite knowing that it wasn’t his fault. He had no one else to solve the problems of the Flash family, not when he was needed to watch over the time stream. “But it is necessary in order to help as many worlds as possible.”

“We don’t blame you,” Jazz said, ever the most empathetic, “it’s all of the Flashes’ faults!”

“I propose that we kill them and save us the headache!” Dan said.

Dani sighed, but also laughed. “Well, Bart is one of my best friends, but I guess he’ll have to go.”

Danny grinned and said, “Cool, I’ll take Flash.”

Clockwork smiled as his children (his wonderful, powerful, extraordinary children) started squabbling over how to kill or whether not to kill someone with the speed force. Work was difficult as someone who was devoted to protecting other timelines and worlds, but with his family by his side, life wasn’t too hard. In a way, Clockwork was almost grateful to be reborn as an Ancient.

Perhaps now, his family and existence wouldn’t end as tragically as before, with his children by his side.

[na0koz]

jinx getting jealous and makin u pay for it :P

nsfw!!! MDNI. cw: blood, knives, kinda dubcon i guess?, strap use

anon request! wouldn’t let me respond to it in a post. this is my first time writing proper smut sorry if it’s bad

toxic!jinx masterlist

today was one of the few days you weren’t planning on hanging out with jinx, but obviously you ended up doing just that. jinx was just checking up on you, watching you work from the very back corner of the cute little coffee shop you were studying in (sometimes she is baffled by the fact that you have never ever noticed her stalking you. she is in plain sight half the time) when someone from your class comes in and approaches you at your table.

you smile up at them, moving your bag so they can sit opposite you and the two of you start chatting. several minutes go by, your studies long forgotten as you get to know your classmate, someone who you hadn’t really spoken to much before. jinx on the other hand, hasn’t moved a muscle and has barely even blinked as she watches the interaction unfold before her, eyes flickering between the two of you before noticing your classmate pulling their phone out.

jinx damn near gets up out of her seat when she sees you take their phone and type what jinx assumes was your phone number. she finally moves, though only to start bouncing her leg up and down, waiting for an opportunity to question you. she’s bitten her lip so hard that it bleeds.

after what feels like an eternity, your classmate leaves. jinx already knows their name and perhaps even their address after somehow finding a list of everyone in your class and researching each of them. they will face their punishment in due course. as soon as the door closes behind them, jinx is up and stomping towards your table.

the sudden movement opposite you as she sits down causes you to look up again from your laptop and you exclaim upon seeing her. “oh! hey jinx.”

jinx doesn’t say anything in return, just licks the remaining half-dried blood from her lip.

“who was that?” she questions, leaning on her forearms over the table. she sounds annoyed, and you really really hope she isn’t as angry as she sounds.

“someone from my class. they just wanted to borrow some notes they had missed,” you explain as you gather your stuff up and put it in your bag. you know she’s gonna make you leave with her so you might as well prepare.

“hm. whatever, let’s go.”

you follow jinx out of the shop and she grabs your arm to pull you along beside her while she thinks of the quickest route back to either of your houses.

you end up at her house, the door locked behind you as you push your shoes off. jinx tugs your bag off your shoulder for you, dropping it to the floor with a thud before leading you to her room.

she starts yanking off your jacket, your clothes and finally your underwear. she sheds a couple of her own layers, but pauses when she’s just in her underwear and a tight cropped tank top. you can’t say you’re not turned on, and you brace yourself for the teasing that will likely follow when jinx forces your legs open.

in the time you imagine how she’s going to chide you for how wet you’re getting over literally nothing, she’s managed to get her strap on and pulls you onto your stomach, bending your knees for you so you’re face down, ass up on her bed. she continues wordlessly as she begins tying a turquoise rope around your wrists behind your back.

jinx lines up her dick with your already dripping hole and pushes in, making you whine into the mattress. still without a word, she starts fucking you, and hard.

you quickly build up to your orgasm, chanting jinx’s name like a prayer begging her to let you cum.

she replies with a simple “go on.” and you cum hard on her dick, a few tears escaping your eyes and soaking the sheets below.

tonight, it’s her goal to make sure you know she’s the only one who can give you what she can, as well as she can.

jinx coaxes a few more orgasms from you with her strap before she decides to opt for a new method to make you feel so good you cry.

she pulls your fucked out body into her lap and drags your arms behind her head so they looped around her neck, still bound together by the blue rope. she kicks her legs under yours to force them open and keep them that way. then, she shoves two of her fingers into your mouth.

instinctively, you start to suck, tongue curling around her slender fingers.

“mhm, that’s it. good girl.” jinx muses as she watches your lips puckering around her digits. it surprises you how much she can change when she’s fucking you, becoming dark and dominant over you.

she pulls her now wet fingers out of your mouth with a pop and traces them down the valley of your chest, along your stomach down to your pussy. she teases your clit and your puffy folds for a second before plunging her fingers into your sensitive hole. you cry out and squeeze your eyes shut, failing to notice jinx reaching behind her as she grasps for her assault knife. the one with the hot pink and turquoise handle she made herself.

as she curls her fingers inside of you, she gently prods your inner thigh with the knife and you twitch at the sudden pain. you open your eyes and look up at her, not being able to restrain the whimpers coming from your throat as jinx continues fingering you with her knife still poking you, threatening to pierce your skin.

“ji-… hurts..” you can barely get a word out from how tight the coil inside of you is.

she’s not letting you reach your orgasm on purpose. you hear her giggle at your whining through the haze of your pleasure.

“you gonna cum?” she sings at you. she’s just teasing your for her own pleasure now. freak.

“please…jinx. wanna cum so bad..” you plead with her.

“y’know no one else can make you cum like this, baby. no one else can do what i do.” she begins to drag the knife up to the space between your tits.

jinx doesn’t feel like drawing any blood from you today, but she doesn’t need to tell you that right now. she just needs to make you know that you’re hers. she owns you and she needs to punish you for making her jealous.

“tell me i’m the only one who can make you cum.” she presses down with the blade, hearing you moan even louder. she’s changed her mind now. she pulls the knife down a little, drops of blood blooming on your chest.

you’re writhing in her grip now. you’re so so close to cumming but she just won’t let you.

“go on. tell me.” jinx says bluntly before dipping her head down to lick the blood off you.

“yo-..! you’re the only one jinx! the only one who can make me cum! please- please let me..” you cry as your sentence dies on your tongue, brows furrowed and eyes shut.

she hums. “see, baby? wasn’t so hard.” she puts the knife down and finally fucking you just that little bit harder.

the band in your belly snaps and you cum so hard you see stars. your hot juices spurt out of your convulsing hole over jinx’s palm and her bedsheets. she licks the tears from your cheeks and strokes your hair with her free hand.

you relax against her, breathing heavily as she wipes the small wound she made with a cloth she had on her nightstand. she lets you calm down a little more before cleaning up your soaked pussy.

you think it’s probably best to ignore any texts from your classmate, and pretend you typed your number wrong. for their sake, not yours.

[fluoneia]

sypnosis. when you were born, your found!mother lest took you in when she saw you had similar differences that she had. years later, you found yourself joining the fireflies, and a certain someone took interest to you. ekko x reader

when you first joined the fireflies, you were somewhat of an outcast. scar took a liking to you, as you both had ears, but that was about it. you weren’t all that strong, you didn’t contribute much as you had nothing to contribute.

but, the kids took a liking to you. you were amazing in their eyes, just like their new idol, you had ears that perked up on your head.

but, the only one that ever stuck out to you was their infamous leader, ekko. and he took a liking to you, too.

ekko was the one to find you after you ran away from when you found out lest was working with shimmer. sometimes, you missed her. but, your life at the firelights was great.

ekko asked you to take on a role as somewhat of a caretaker for the kids. you accepted without a doubt, wanting to help in any way you could.

two months in, ekko started visiting you during your breaks more often that what firelights leader should deem fit. but, you didn’t mind. you liked his company.

today was like no other.

you were looking through the drawings the kids made you with a smile, taking a sip of your water.

then, you heard a knock on the door. you feel a rush of excitement when you realize it’s probably ekko.

“come in.” you smile, setting the drawing down.

ekko opens the door to your designated break room, saunting over to you.

“hey.” he would say in a greeting, sitting on the desk and looking down at the drawings. you smile in a gesture of greeting, sitting back in your chair. “it.. it looks like the kids really like you.”

“what can i say?” you shrug. “i guess i’m really likeable.”

ekko snorts. he picks up a drawing, peering it over. it was a drawing of two of the kids, with ekko and i beside them. ekko places it down after a second, before picking up one of the peaches on the desk and taking a bite of it.

“so you’re settling in here, well?” ekko glances toward you, wiping the juices off his lip. your eyes fixate on his lips, so soft, so full. you shake your head as you look away.

“yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up. “everyone here is amazing. i never thought that they’d be so.. so welcoming to my kind.”

ekko shrugs. “i made this place to be a safe haven. people from all over, piltover, zaun, everywhere come here. we see people with wings, with scales.. some cute little ears won’t turn peoples heads here anymore.”

ekko moves to graze a hand over your ears, but you flinch away. ekko recoils his hand.

“i’ve noticed..” ekko starts. “you never let anyone near your ears. not even the kids.”

you feel a blush creep over your face, and you lick your lips.

“why?” ekko asks softly. it doesn’t feel like he’s interrogating you, just curiosity in his tone.

“well, they..” you bite your tongue. you graze your finger over the back of your ear. your own touch never did the same as how others did. “they’re kind of sensitive.” you mutter under your breath.

ekko narrows his eyes. tilts his head. “what’d you say?” he leans closer, trying to hear you better.

you huff. “they’re sensitive. that’s why i don’t let people touch them.”

“oh.” ekko blinks as he thought. “sensitive.. how?”

“well, they..” you frown as you think. “it’s hard to explain.” you shake your head. “it’s like.. like this chilling feeling. i don’t know. it’s just not pleasant.”

actually, it was anything but unpleasant. you didn’t trust anyone enough to touch your ears, because one time one of your friends touched them, and you damn purred as the searing feeling went down your spine.

you didn’t want anyone to know how touching your ears made you feel. so, you often made it sound like it was almost painful to steer people away from the subject.

“i only really let people i trust go near them.” you say.

you didn’t want to say because touching them makes you go to damn mush.

“people you trust, huh?” ekko smiles as he takes another bite of the peach. he opens his mouth, yet bites his tongue. “would you.. would you ever trust me?”

you glance up at him. peer over his face. his eyes hold such curiosity as they glue onto your ears, that twitch under his gaze.

“i— i dunno. maybe? i mean..”

you find yourself lost in his eyes, so drowning, so full of light. you swallow the lump in your throat at your unspoken words.

then, ekko closes his eyes and looks away. “just curious.” he shrugged, standing. “i’ll leave you to your break.”

you bite your tongue as he walks toward the door.

“see ya, kitty.” ekko waves a hand in goodbye, before closing the door behind him.

you let out a frustrated huff at yourself. i mean, you’ve thought about letting him touch your ears before. just to remember what it was like.. yeah. totally. that was all it was.

you frown as you lean back in your chair.

later that night at dinner, you watch in awe as ekko gives a speech about a recent successful mission.

you glance back down at your food as cheers erupt in the dining hall. you smile, placing a cut up peach in your mouth.

after, you left the hall in silence. you found yourself at one of the spots you often found peace in after long days. the firelights swarm around you, and you let one land on your finger.

a smile stretches on your face when it flies away, when the breeze flows through your hair, your fur.

“thought i’d find you here.”

you jump as you hear ekko’s voice, placing a hand over your heart.

“a little warning next time would be nice.” youd mutter, watching as the firefly’s around you spooked and flew away.

ekko snorts, sitting beside you. you try to ignore the warmth that spread through your shoulder as his rests against yours, the nerves spiking high.

you lean into his touch.

“about earlier.” ekko huffs. “i didn’t mean it to make you.. uncomfortable. i mean, i don’t know what it’s like.” ekko shrugs.

“no, no.” you shake your head. “i was.. i thought about what you said.” you inhaled. you glance over to him, and he’s already looking at you. “if you’re curious, there’s no harm. so.. just once.”

ekko is quiet for a second.

“are you sure?” he says.

“don’t make it a big thing.” you shake your head. you give him a soft smile. you lean your head toward him, ear twitching against his skin.

without a work, he leaned up and gently dragged his finger over your ear. his thumb brushed against the skin inside of your ear.

“woah.” he whispered, brushing the fur down.

you gnaw at your lip, but you can’t help the purrs that vibrate inside of your chest. you lean into his touch, nuzzling your nose against his neck.

“they’re so.. soft.”

ekko’s finger moves to your other ear, scratching at where your ear started. you hide your face in your hands as you feel the warmth spread against your cheeks.

and for the first time, you didn’t want to recoil away from someone’s touch against your ears. it didn’t feel foreign, nor awkward. it just felt.. right. calming, soothing.

you force yourself away before you let yourself go any further.

“oh— sorry, was that..?” ekko retracted his hand.

you shy your gaze away, butterflies and feelings kicking in your stomach.

“sorry—“ you whispered, running a hand over your hot face as you try to regain back your reality. “no, no, sorry, i just—“

“don’t apologize. i won’t push it.” ekko let’s his hand drop against your shoulder. you lean into the warm touch, finally feeling the fog in your head fade away.

you give him a reassuring smile.

“so, was it everything you ever imagined?” you tease, pushing your elbow against his side.

ekko snorted. “kind of was. knew they’d be soft.” he grins a teasing smile.

you laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder again.

maybe people touching your ears wasn’t so bad. so long as it was ekko.

a/n. for @b5withextrachicken :’)) more info on my taglist here

[coldilikeit]

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

Dc x Pjo

Part 9

______________________________

It was now morning, the air was humid and the chariots were lined up, everyone on the sidelines was packed with food, every second you wish you were in those benches

"One... Two.... Three... GO!" Tantalus yelled and the campers roared

The Ares chariot was quick, but the Hermes chariot led by the not twins Travis and Connor Stoll, Connor was shooting rocks in between the wheels of chariots

Leading first is the Hephaestus chariot led by Charles Beckendorf and his brother, second is Poseidon Chariot led by Percy Jackson and Tyson the cyclops

No way you were going to let them win

Your sister Yvonne Bailey Daughter of a multi-million fashion designer grabbed some arrows, her step mother (Aphrodite approved) was an Olympic archer, she taught Yvonne everything she knows

Which is lucky because in this race your opponents either throw arrows or bombs, even luckier cause someone on the Aphrodite cabin knows how to make arrow bombs (you duh)

And you may or may have not taken green arrows design but it's not like he can sue you, I mean come on you're dead

"No hard feelings (Name)" Annabeth smiles as her chariots bumps yours

Yvonne recovering from the shock stood up again quickly "You did not just do that", she prepared an arrow and shot at their left wheel, tried to shoot at least

The arrow instead hit the Hermes chariot and it crashed onto the Hephaestus chariot

Well they say it's better to destroy two chariots with one arrow

Now it was just You and Yvonne, Annabeth and her brother, Percy and Tyson

AND CLARISSE LA RUE????

For some reason, even if they were stuck at the back of the track trying to get he ricks out of their wheels, they managed to bypass the other burning down chariots in their way

It was fine, you liked a challenge, Then Stymphalian birds (flesh eating demon birds) started raining down from the sky and started pecking at the campers

A flock of these birds started to attack your chariot, without thinking you grabben an arrow and shit at them...

... without proper space distance, making the explosion close to you chariot

Yvonne grabbed you and ducked down and the horses who were carrying your chariot went feral trying to avoid the demon birds themselves

Percy who slipped out of the race, managed to grab a boom box and played this awful music that made the birds screech, but stopped them from attacking

The Apollo kids took this as a chance to shoot them down

And when you thought it was over, Clarisse came running through with her chariot and won the race

Despite the injuries of the racers and the non racers, they cheered

______________________________

Jason grumbled at the sight of his family, gloomy, "Hey, Breakfast has been ready for hours now, Duke is waiting!"

"I know but I found new information, according to here, Empousa only drink the blood of their victims, not eat them, that would mean there is still a body-" Tim has been researching every Greek monster ever since, trying to find a clue on how to see them properly

Diana had explained this most that covers the mortal eye from the divine world, with the announcement that the gods are real...

People have been starting to get stressed, since the most is still in effect, people are accusing each other of being monsters in disguise

"I don't get why you're doing so much for a fake" Jason glared, true he was shocked at the death, but... It's not like this was the first time (Name) died

The little replacement to protect dad's sanity was dead, so?

______________________________

According to Tantalus, we should be punished, because according to him the stymphalian birds were just minding their business and only attacked because they were bothered by Percy's horrible chariot driving

"go chase a donut!" Percy stomped off as Tantalus continues to yell at him and Tyson scurries behind behind Percy

I grabbed a piece of fruit from a table that managed to survive the attack and waved it around so Tantalus could see

And I ate it in front of him.

"Okay you too! Both you and Percy and the monster will be washing the dishes tonight" he yelled

"what, that's bull, everyone eats" said a brother of yours

"leave my sister alone, you're just mad you can't eat" said another brother

"how are you cursed to never eat and still be fat, that doesn't make sense" said one of your sisters

Annabeth's brows furrowed "That's not fair! (Name) Just ate! You can't punish her for eating!"

"alright smarty you're punished as well! Everyone cleans this mess! And make dinner for Clarisse if you want, a banquet or something, but stay the fuck away from my sight" now it was Tantalus's turn to stomp away

______________________________

(Name): eats*

Tantalus who was cursed to never eat: I'm offended

______________________________

@delias-stuff @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7 @wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @chinxinsomnia @nathaly36 @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @ceramic-raven @sweetconnoisseurgardener @dhanyasri @bella-wolf100 @shortnsweetsposts @roseapov @d3sperate-enuf @d3kstar

[kingdomaddiction]

I've been thinking in a Cumplane friendship idea.--

You see, everyone seems to believe SQQ and SQH can't stand each other. Quite the opposite, really. When it's only the two of them they don't feel the need to keep up the pretence. It's so easy to relax, to put the mask aside.

They aren't peak lords nor cultivators. They're just two dudes in their mid tweenties trying to survive in this forsaken world.

SY knows he might not be the kindest nor the most loving of friends, (he spent so many years alone in a cold, hospital room, he's not good at socializing) but he does care for Airplane. A lot. He will never say it out loud because it's embarrasing but that stupid author is his best friend.

So, that's why when the news of Qinghua's disappearance finally reach him (two weeks, it took two full weeks before someone decided to tell him--- )they absolutely destroys him.

He seems calm at fisrt. Not truly procesing the news. LBG makes a few comments about something Mobei told him (you fucking knew and didn't tell me, how dare you, husband?! )

Gone, SQH? No, that's dumb. He couldn't be gone. He's a peak lord, he has responsabilities, a bunch of little ones to teach. He even takes care of the north. And most importantly why would he leave Mobei? It makes no sense, not fucking sense.

SQH wouldn't leave like that. He... he wouldn't leave SY behind.

He can feel sob building up in his throat. That... stupid, idiot--HACK AUTHOR!

His crying fit is so strong and sudden that sends LBG and his whole demon staff into a panic.

"Shizun?!" He says looking for visible injuries-

"Don't touch me!" He screams and LBG looks at him with hurt.

"Husband? Have... have this disciple done something wrong?"

SQQ just turns and walks to his chambers ordering LBG not to follow him. His husband is left feeling distressed and cries for very different reasons.

Later that night they talk. SQQ feeling tired and sad finally calls for his husband to comfort him. He explains to him why he is angry at him and LBG apologizes.

"This one thought you hated Shang-shibo and that Shizun wouldn't care about his dissapereance." He says in a small, careful voice. "Mobei jun came to the palace days ago to beg for help in his search... "

"You turned him away... " SY says, sounding very tired.

"Yes. But this husband will make it right, Shizun. I will find your friend for you, promise."

SY sighs and hugs his husband, hiding his face in his chest.

..

Idk 'm all over the place but the idea is that the system is glitching and took SQH and is kind of keeping him hostage? Like, in between worlds. Not the mordern universe, not PIDW.

I imagine LBG having a very hard time accepting his shizun worries and loves others and not just him (??? why??? I'm more than enough you need NO ONE else shizun). He's too possesive and would like very much just to lock his shizun away, but that would break him and he never wants to see him cry like that ever again. Even if that means he has to share his attention.

MBJ is very broken in this one fiding himself lost without SQH. they had just finally stablished their relationship so he's between angry and scared. Also his trust and loyalty to LBG has taken a blown since he refused to help him find his lover. Didn't he help LBG when everyone turned his back on him as he clinged to his dead shizun's body?

While they work together (before they can even figure out where sqh is) LBG slowly realizes he might have fucked up a bit and ??? misses Mobei ??? are they friends???!!

SY tries his fucking best to keep it together. Really, he loves Binghe but that man can be so dense.

They find where SQH is being kept. The place is like a limbo. Cold, and vast where no time passes. In order to get him back LBG, MBJ and SQQ work together to reforge Xin Mo and travel there. There's a cool fighting montage, tears, hugs and everyone is happy at the end

Yeah that's all i got so far. I'll be going back to work now--

[novemberheart]

{overview} John realizes his mistake, you and Simon grow closer

{warnings} cursing, some angst, fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, poly 141

Chapter 24 <- Chapter 25 -> Chapter 26

“Pick up your bloody phone,” he growled. He paced around his office, his mind automatically jumping to the worst. Well, could you blame him with your history? “Come on sweetheart,” He pleaded on the other line. He had shown up exactly three minutes ago ready to pick you up for a lunch date off base, yet you were nowhere to be seen.

He paced back over by his desk, wondering if he should start calling in the boys to look for you. It was then he saw it. The world went silent beside his heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

“No,” he nearly whined, his chest clenching painfully. He cursed moving as fast as he could down the hallway without attracting too much attention. He was going to shred that folder and its contents. He actually found it a bit funny when he found it. He was so against you joining and now you were one of the most important aspects of his life.

He should’ve destroyed it right then and there.

He could only imagine how you felt right now. The man who you had deemed your alpha rejecting you from first glance. The man who you had shared your mind and body with. He felt sick. He ran into Kyle in the elevator. His honey eyes widened at his appearance, his hand reaching out gripping onto his shirt. “What’s happened?” He urged.

“I fucked up,” he admitted instantly. “I don't know how to fix this, Kyle,” he gasped. His own hands grabbing onto the beta.

“It’ll be alright,” Kyle soothed, his own heart pounding in his chest.

“I still had those profiles Kate had sent, the ones with omegas she thought would work with us. I was a bastard and crossed them out. Including our girl. Well, I almost crossed all of them. I left one be,” he swallowed back his nerves, his hands beginning to tremble. He had never had such a bodily reaction before. The thought of losing you too much for his nervous system to process.

“What do you mean you left one be? Like there was one you wanted?” Kyle pressed. John nodded slowly, before shaking his head- contradicting himself.

“It wasn't that I preferred her. Given her history she just seemed like the best fit if we had to pick one,” John explained. At the time it had made sense. He didn't know any of you and it wasn't like he had put that much thought into it. He wasn't ready for an omega at that time. He hadn't even sent the papers back to Kate; he just let them rot in the bottom of his file cabinet. You were also the one Laswell was pushing for. If he rejected you, maybe she would leave him alone about it. At the time it made sense.

The elevator had gone up and down a few times before they had finally gotten off. Vernie greeted them at the door, but John beelined to your room.

Your sobs were deafening. He wasn't sure if he had ever heard someone cry so hard.

And it was his fault.

He tried the handle but you had locked the door. Your sobs continued so you either didn’t hear him or you didn't care.

“Sweetheart, it's me. Let me in so I can explain,” he knuckles rapped against the door desperately. He heard you sputter something. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what you said. “Please, pretty girl. I know what it looks like, but please don't put any thought into it. I crossed you out just to get back at Laswell for pushing me to choose an omega. Please open the door,” he begged. Your sobs didn't decrease in the slightest, his alpha nearly throwing him into a frenzy.

“Can I come in, love?” Kyle spoke suddenly. You gave no response other than painful-sounding sobs. Kyle winced his hand rubbing over his chest like it would soothe the sharp pain.

“I love you,” John said. “I’ll be right here when you’re ready to talk about it,” his voice cracked. The alpha moved on shaky limbs to the couch, sitting with his head in his hands. He threw insults at himself quietly, before standing up again, making his way back to your door. “Please, honey, let me in. I need to see you,” he was back to desperation. His knuckles grazing against the door again.

“Give her time,” Kyle soothed, through his own gritted teeth. He couldn't understand how John had been so reckless. He had obviously left the folders in an accessible spot. You wouldn't just go snooping around. Kyle just hoped you didn't think he had anything to do with it.

It had been three hours. Your sobs had died down, making the house silent. That was almost worse. Kyle had talked him down multiple times from knocking your door down. The beta had to leave for training, leaving John by himself with his own thoughts. That had always been a deadly combination.

He had to relive it when Johnny came home, except the Scot wasn’t putting up with it. He grabbed a sharp tool out of his room, unlocking your door in five seconds flat. John stood up, but Johnny growled out a warning.

“Stay there,” he commanded. The alpha had no room to disagree with the burning beta. When they first met, John had assumed Johnny was an alpha based off of the way he carried himself.

“Peaches?” his voice was quiet and soft to not startle you.

“Go away,” you whined, making him wince.

“We had nothin’ to do with that, hen,” Johnny assured. He wasn't going to be in the doghouse because of the Captain’s mistake. Maybe on the field- but not when it comes to you. His hand reached out resting against your heated back. The emotional toll is already making you feel sick. You were burning up with a fever. “Come here, please,” it wasn't so much of a request as it was an order. You lifted your head up from the pillows, your raw eyes looking up at his. He whined low in his throat. His arms darting under your armpits, to pull you on top of him. You started sobbing again, the sounds hitting John on the other side of the door like a ton of bricks. You curled yourself against Johnny. You needed comfort, despite being mad at the world and everyone in it.

“He didn’t want me,” you mumbled sadly. “I called him alpha. I opened up to him. I trusted him. I slept with him. And the whole time he was wishing I was someone else,” you whined out. Johnny understood your hurt- he felt your hurt, yet he also knew that wasn't true in the slightest. John loved you madly.

“That's not true, Bon. He’s absolutely mad for you. He wouldn't trade you for anything or anyone. He had done it before he even met you, and he did it just to be obnoxious because Kate was pushing for you so hard and we weren't too keen on an omega- you know that,” Johnny reminded. You didn't want to be talked off the ledge. You wanted to jump. You wanted to be mad and be hurt without it being invalidated.

“But I wasn't enough to change his mind. Just one look at her on paper and she had him considering getting an omega,” you shot back. You tried pulling yourself away, wanting to find comfort in your sheets and not in the arms of Johnny. He didn't let you.

“Maybe for a split second, Bonnie. But if he had put any more thought into the situation he would've picked you. I know he would've,” Johnny reasoned. You weren't in the mood for reasoning.

“You can't prove that, Johnny. If he already had it in his mind that she would've been the better fit then I doubted I could've changed that,” your voice raised. John kept his ear against the door, his heart twisting painfully. “The only reason I was let into this pack was because Simon was hurt. He didn't care what omega Kate had picked for him as long as he could use them.” you had pulled yourself off of him, moving to a stand.

“Exactly! He didn't care which one he got. He didn't have his heart set on her bonnie. If he did he would've asked for her. You weren't written off because he didn't want you, you were written off because if he had approved you, you would've been flown out here the next day and none of us were ready for that yet. I know the reason you joined the pack feels like you were being used and you were. We’ll all admit that. But that's the world we come from, Bonnie. We are all puppets for our higher-ups to get what they want. They ship us off to the corners of the earth to fight in some war that no one, besides them, has reaped any benefits from. We are all being used in some way and you were too when you joined the pack. But I can promise you this, beautiful- and I can speak for everyone when I say we love you so fucking much. You're the best thing that has happened to us and we wouldn't trade you for anything,” he finished, his voice cracking at the last sentence.

You hated that his words made everything feel alright again. You still had lingering resentment at John and you probably would for a while- and every time you thought about it. But Johnny had made some good points- sincere points. Besides you had pulled a similar stunt with Simon not too long ago, and he managed to forgive you. You rested your head against Johnny’s shoulder, letting your body weight fall against him. You just needed some sleep.

You had woken up to a knock at your door. You were by yourself, but you could still feel the warmth of Johnny against the sheets.

“Come in,” you groaned. You needed water. It was John, carrying a takeout container of food. It was too dark for you to make out too much of him, yet you could feel the emotion dripping off of him.

“You need to eat,” He said softly. He flicked your desk light on. His beard was unkempt from him running his fingers through it. His eyes were so red and puffy, you were sure it was agonizing to blink. It hurt you to see him that way- yet you looked no better. His hand darted out, a natural instinct to guide you to your chair. You dodged away from him, sitting down yourself. He sighed, slowly sitting down on the edge of your bed. You remained silent. You didn't want to eat the food he had brought you- you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of taking care of you (like he always had), but you were starved, not having eaten since this morning. He remained quiet as you scarfed down your meal, his fingers picking at the calluses on his palms.

You closed it up, taking a few gulps of the water he had brought. You flicked the light back off beginning to get back into bed, until he grabbed you. You squirmed against him mumbling a few ‘let me go’s.’ He paid no mind holding you against his chest, his legs trapping you between them.

He buried his face in your neck, his grip on your constricting.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, making you halt. He sounded so small. He was no longer the booming alpha whose mere presence offered your protection and stability. Now he was afraid. Afraid that you didn't want him anymore. Afraid that you didn't want to be here. Afraid that you had regretted what had happened between the two of you. “I can't have you despise me, sweetheart. I just can't,” he whispered. Since you've joined he’s been discovering new things about himself every day. He was quicker to fall in love than he thought. He could be a good alpha to an omega. He was also weaker than he thought. If you had told him four months ago a little omega he was still getting to know could bring him to his knees so quickly he would’ve told you to fuck off.

His sad scent was seeping into you, softening the chilled edges of your heart. He was regretful, you could tell. You relaxed into him causing him a sigh of relief. “I love you,” he murmured. You didn't say it back and he didn't expect you to. “So much,” he continued.

“You didn't mean it, John,” you replied softly, your hand resting against his back. You may have forgiven, but you weren't going to forget so easily. He could tell by your tone. You could get in your head so easily. He supposed he could too. He pressed a kiss against your cheek, finally letting you go. You remained against him for a moment, before pulling away. He stayed solemn as he grabbed the containers off your desk, heading back towards the door. He paused by the door, resisting the urge to beg you to let him stay. To let him curl himself around you and make everything better. He settled for a quiet ‘goodnight’ the door shutting behind him.

He wasn't sure how you'd take the information. He couldn't imagine you’d be happy- he prayed you wouldn't be. That would be the ultimate jab.

“Sweetheart,” He greeted. You looked up from your phone, offering him a small smile. Things had been awkward between the two of you- not that you had had much contact since last night.

“We have a new assignment. Me and Kyle leave in two hours,” He explained. When your face fell he was relieved. What if you were just sad for Kyle? He chewed back the thought.

“How long will you be gone?” You questioned.

“Shouldn't be more than a week. It’s a fairly easy one,” he sighed. It was silent for a moment. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

“I’ll miss you,” you breathed. You started to pull away but he held you there. He just needed a moment longer.

When you saw Kyle you nearly tackled him over, your face smushing against his. He tried not to take it personally. You were still hurt. Feeling like you were second best and unwanted. He had to understand that. He was trying to understand that. Hopefully, his being gone will soften you.

“Come on pups, time for your walks,” Simon spoke, grabbing a pack of cigarettes off the counter and his mask. Vernie had learned that whenever Simon grabbed his cigarettes it was time for a walk. She wormed her way out of your lap, bounding over to the door. Simon attached her leash holding it out for you. It was dark out. The night sky making you think of your first kiss- then John.

You three walked along a walking path, Simon making sure to put himself between you and groups of jogging soldiers.

“Simon?” you asked. He grunted in response.

“How did you get over me not putting you down as my alpha? That must've felt like a rejection,” you questioned. While they weren't entirely in the same situation, you felt maybe Simon could offer you some advice.

“It did,” he replied bluntly. “But then I realized I hadn't been acting too alpha-ish to you. Then you heard me say all that bullshit that night so I didn't have any room to be upset at you anymore,” he explained, guiding you off to the side. He pulled out his cigarettes, rolling his mask up to his nose. You bit back a giggle. “I’m still surprised you weren't more upset about it,” he sighed. “At least not that you've shown.”

You would still think about his words- less and less over the past few weeks. You don't know why but they didn't burn you as much as John's actions had. Maybe it was because your feelings were stronger for John? Or maybe it was because you knew deep down Simon didn't mean it. But John's actions had confirmed a belief you had about not being good enough. You gasped softly. That was it.

“Confirmation bias,” you gasped. Simon narrowed his eyes at you. “John didn't think I was good enough to be in the pack- and I had already felt that way. That's why it still hurts so bad,” you explained your thought process.

“You need to get that out of your head,” Simon spoke. “It wasn't like we all sat around and discussed every omega and came to the conclusion someone was a better fit than another. The old man probably didn't even have his glasses on when he was skimming through the profiles,” Simon huffed. He knew his Captain. Every decision he made was well thought out and concise. If he had really wanted to pick an omega he would’ve interviewed each of you himself, made you fill out a ten-page survey, and discuss it with each member of the pack individually. Also, Laswell had sent the papers electronically, he had just printed off a copy to mess with. Probably after a rough mission and one too many whiskeys. The rest of your sentence finally hit him. “What do you mean not good enough?”

“Well, I mean you know,” you started, shrugging.

“No, I don't bloody know. That's why I'm asking,” he shot back.

“Kate has always said what an indispensable and vital pack you are. That's all anyone here talks about. Omegas come up to me all the time and ask what it's like to be a part of this pack, or how I got into this pack. Nobody believes I got in by just being myself,” you explained.

“They don't know you then,” he snapped. “Then they'd be askin’ why we were daft enough to go so long without you,” he pressed the rest of his cigarette out, grabbing another from the pack.

“Simon?”

“Yes, pup,” he sighed.

“Kiss me?”

He paused the cigarette still hanging between his lips, the flame just a few centimeters away. “What?” he asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“Please?” you breathed. Your hands reached out gripping the front of his jacket. His heart hammered in his chest, your eyes staring up at him wide and wanting. His hands covered yours, not making any move to push them off. He couldn't break himself away, his eyes holding yours as his head lowered. He stopped right in front of you, his lips brushing against yours. You stared back equally enthralled. You closed the distance, your eyes fluttering shut, as you pressed your mouth against his. He reciprocated instantly, pushing his head forward to deepen this kiss. Your hands moved up to hold his jaw and he quickly grabbed the leash from you not wanting it to get in the way of you touching him. Your hands cupped his face, pulling him impossibly closer, gasping when his teeth nipped your bottom lip. He smirked against you and you had half a mind to pull away as punishment until he backed you against a tree. You gasped his name, making him groan against you, his hands digging into the fabric around your hips.

He hoisted you up, his neck already growing sore. His kisses were exactly like your relationship with him. Starting off sweet, then a battle of teeth and tongue, then back to sweet before you could decide which one you liked best. You pulled away with a deep inhale, your lungs burning from forgetting to breathe. He ‘tsked’ softly, pressing kisses against your jaw.

“Don’t know how he didn't mark you, sweet girl. I'd be sinking my jaws into you the moment you’re under me,” he mumbled, his teeth nipping against your neck in emphasis. You moaned quietly, making him smile. He pressed one last kiss against your neck, setting you back down on wobbly feet. “Don’t look at me like that, pup. We’re in public,” he reprimanded playfully, handing you back Vernie’s leash. “Besides I’m not done playing hard to get,” he chuckled. Your phone buzzed in your pocket making you jolt. You pulled it out, seeing John’s number, pressing the red button before you really thought about it.

“The fuck was that?” he growled. “Call him back,” he urged. You quickly did as you were told, not quite sure why you had done that in the first place.

He answered immediately.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly.

“S’alright. Just figured you weren't in the mood to talk, pretty,” he cleared his throat. You wondered how much he had hurt in those seconds you denied his call. “Just wanted to let you know me and Kyle are where we’re supposed to be.” he explained.

“Good. Good,” you replied softly. You were quiet for a moment. “John, I love you. You know that right?” you breathed. You heard him inhale sharply on the other line, before clearing his throat again. You could feel yours constrict as well.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He breathed back. He needed that. He needed to know you weren't back home stewing at him. “I love you and I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”

“I’ll be waiting,” you responded, your eyes blurring at the tightness in his voice. “Bye.”

“Bye, pretty girl.”

You buried your face in Simon’s chest, wrapping your arms around him as you cried lowly. You wished John was back, so you could curl up in his arms again. You wished you hadn't given him the cold shoulder before he left. What if something happened while he was away and your last physical interaction was you worming your way out of a hug? His hug.

“Easy, pup,” Simon soothed. His hands smoothing over your back. He wanted to scold you for not answering the first time. He could only imagine how John was feeling after being shipped away while not on the best terms with you. It was hard enough when you were on good terms. “Need a cigarette?” Simon questioned making you chuckle after your crying had slowed. You shook your head softly. He kept an arm around you, beginning the trek back home. “Don’t worry about it, pup. You've got a lot on your mind. Sometimes people do things without meaning harmful intent,” he soothed. You caught the double meaning of his words, and you pressed yourself closer.

“Simon. What would happen if something were to happen to you out there and you couldn't be sent back to base?”

He sucked in air through his teeth.

“Well we would get to the safest spot we could and try to be fixed up enough to be sent back here,” he explained.

“What if you couldn't though? Be sent back here?” you pressed.

“What would you want to happen?” he questioned. He didn't want to put ideas out there you weren't comfortable with. The easiest way to get the answer you wanted was by making you say it yourself.

“I’d want to be sent to where you were. No matter where it is or how dangerous it is. I'd want to be with you,” you nearly demanded.

“That's why you were paired with us, pup,” Simon smirked. “You’re just as brave and stupid as the rest of us.”

Hi friends! See you in three days for chapter 26! 🧡

[msmysticfail]

Venus in the houses

✩Venus in the 7th house✩

Venus in the 7th care a lot about the other person, other people are a source of emotional wealth for them. They love to take care of their loved ones, always remembering everything the other person likes. They are people who need to be in a romantic relationship of some sort to feel fulfilled and happy, which is why when a relationship breaks over they can start another one soon after, which is easy for them as they have a bunch of admirers, as they are beautiful, pleasant people. Many people like them, whether romantically or not. They have trouble, however, sharing the "bad" emotions and thoughts they feel about the relanshionship they are in. They don't want fights, they don't want to discuss unpleasant things; that's why they need to develop this skill: to vocalize what's making them uncomfortable, as it can harm their relationship if they keep this desire to always try to keep things harmonious, even when things are obviously not working. This is the type of people who loves to be well-groomed, to smell good, to be fashion and beautiful. They are sociable, they are always receiving friends at home, giving dinners, going out, having a pleasant time. It's hard not to like them, they usually win you over in such a subtle and gentle way that you will generally only have good opinions about them. It's important that they stop worrying so much about what others will think of them, try to stop living in search of people's approval. If they manage to balance this approval need they will be able to shine even brighter.

✩Venus in the 8th house✩

This Venus is addicted to love, passion. They are intense, their love goes deep, when they give themselves to love, they give their soul, everything. Their love is wonderful, you will feel exclusive, this Venus's attention will be completely focused on you, which is why they are very loyal, they rarely cheat. They are possessive, when they take possession of something they will hardly let it go, but when they are finally forced to let go, they go through a complete process of catharsis, going to the bottoms of their soul, suffering pain intensely, just to emerge from the ashes after, stronger than ever, beautiful and magnetic like a phoenix. This is a Venus who receives money very easily from others, people trust them with their money. It also attracts a lot of financial investment from others, since the 8th house talks about the support that others give us, and it's very easy for them to get loans, in general. However, don't mess with this Venus, she will take revenge and come out on top. Their love is like a hidden treasure, it's precious and rare, to access it you need to surrender completely. Extremely magnetic, they know how to attract what they want. They also need constant intimate physical contact, as that's where they find their greatest source of emotional satisfaction.

✩Venus in the 9th house✩

This Venus needs freedom, for them it's very important to feel that they can act or do what pleases them without having to explain themselves or give in to the other person expectations. If they feel suffocated or trapped they'll start to distance themselves, until they are completely "free" of the other person. They love studying. They love improving their knowledge: their mind, their soul. They love getting to know other cultures, studying about them, their customs and cuisine. They have a strong desire to travel and generally their preferred destination is abroad, somewhere outside their country. This Venus points their arrow very far away, perhaps they want to date someone from outside their country, someone different, who offers challenge and mental stimulation. It's a Venus who also has many admirers, mainly for their beauty and intelligence, but they generally don't pay much attention to it, despite the fact that, if someone is intelligent enough, if someone can match their intellectual level, they will probably fall intensely in love. They have a certain tendency to idealize relationships because the ninth house talks about the field of ideas, the mental, which is why they spend more time imagining the relationship than actually experiencing it in the reality. They are usually always taking some course to complement their career or they are always traveling.

✩Venus in the 10th house✩

Here Venus shines like no other, as it has reached the highest house of the zodiac. They have a love for the beautiful, the aesthetics, they love to beautify things, whether it's a job they do, or treating others in a harmonious way. They will always deliver the best of they can, as they are very demanding of themselves. Their beauty is cold, calculated, they know exactly where they want to go and radiating their natural charm they slowly conquer everything their heart desires. They are very friendly, they really care about others, like a Venus in the 7th house. They shine in their work, winning the favor of their colleagues and the attention of their superiors; but this is also where they attract the envy of others, as they definitely do more than most of the people around them. This Venus needs to know that the path to the top is narrow and alone, so they should not let be affected when people threaten to leave them. They may find love at work, or they may love what they do very much. They know what they are doing, especially when it comes to their career and life, they don't really need advice. When they decide to love someone, that person will usually stay in their life and heart for a very, very long time, even if they eventually break up.

✩Venus in the 11th house✩

This Venus loves society and society also loves them. They are loved by a very large number of people. They are that type of person who will donate their money to charities, who will help those most in need, who will take care of street animals. They really care about the collective, about people, they will stop what they are doing just to listen when someone needs it. They care about other people's lives, what their problems are. They're very stylish, they usually have their own style and they really don't care whether it's aesthetically beautiful or not, whether it pleases others or not. They are certainly intelligent, they easily understand how society works, being able to see invisible structures and offer help in some way, always trying to improve the lives of people in their community. The only problem that can occur with this Venus is paying more attention to social issues than to the private life of their relationships, which can and will undermine the relationship itself, so it's necessary to seek balance. They love to go out, they are always on the street, almost never stopping at home. They love being in touch with art, culture, politics. It's a Venus who will love going to cafes, discussing books and talking about the community/society in general. When in love they are not so attached, they prefer to date friends, people who share some type of fraternity and camaraderie. Their loved ones cannot hold them back or try to label them in fixed, closed terms. They may not be so interested in romantic love itself, but rather the feeling of connection and understanding between two individuals.

✩Venus in the 12th house✩

This is the most introverted of the Venuses. Living in their own world, they flow through various settings and people, they do not have a fixed type. They are emotionally sensitive, with a very rich and intense personal universe. They can fall in love very easily, but generally the person they love is not available, is usually committed or cannot get involved, for whatever reasons, with the Venus in the 12th house. They usually keep their emotions to themselves. When they finally express what they feel, their emotions flow like a river, flowing with full force. Venus in this house also suffers from the danger of falling in love with people who harm them, who are toxic and abusive. They must become very aware of the type of people they surround themselves with, they need to stop idealizing such people and see them for who they truly are. Their enemies can sometimes be those they love, people can sometimes be with them just to take advantage of their kindness and love. They need to be careful with that. They give so much of themselves, their love flows like deep waters, and sometimes they don't realize they have given too much of themselves until they are already exhausted and sad. As they are very rich internally, they can and should express their inner universe, as they are very creative. Interacting with the arts, dance, photography, cinema and writing are activities that will certainly enhance and elevate this Venus to its maximum potential.

[lovecla]

THIS IS MY PLAYPEN ; JACK HUGHES.

WARNINGS unedited, jealous jack!!!!

WORD COUNT 0.7k

FROM ME TO YOU it’s officially 2025 where i live and i just wanted to write something short and funny because we need more jealous jack fics in this world *mark ruffalo protesting meme*. honestly, i’m just so grateful for all of you i wish i could drag you to my home and smooch you all. thank u so much for everything!

𐙚

“I FEEL like a skirt shouldn’t be that short,” Jack says, eyeing you across the room. “I mean, when she bends over to do that I can literally see her panties.”

“You mean when she bends over to grind on her best friend?” Luke chuckles, leaning against the counter. “She’s just dancing, man.”

“The problem isn’t her dancing—”

“The problem is that you’re not the one she’s bending over for, right?” Luke rolls his eyes when Jack gives him the finger. Sometimes he felt like Jack was the youngest one among them all.

“I could totally be the one she’s bending for,” he says, acting all nonchalant and unimpressed. Luke almost laughs with how full of bullshit his brother is. “She likes me.”

Luke sips on his beer, and Jack turns around, furrowing his eyebrows. “Why didn’t you say anything? Do you know something I do not?”

Luke places his glass on the counter and raises both of his hands. “Man, chill. If she likes you, if she doesn’t, it doesn’t matter; that’s not why we’re here today. It’s Mercer’s birthday, so suck it up, dude.”

Jack knows he should listen to his brother and act with his upper head, but it gets so hard— literally— when he has to stand there with his teammates and pretend he’s not watching your every move like a fucking creep.

He had never noticed how hot you were. He knew you were pretty, because only a blind person couldn’t do so, but hot? Yeah, no. You were usually the type of girl who wore large clothes, and even though he thought you were cute nonetheless, now that he’s seeing you with other eyes, he realizes he can’t live without having at least a taste.

But fucking Johnathan Kovacevic beats him to it, and Jack seriously wants to punch the guy in the face because really? Can that dumbass not see Jack spent the last thirty minutes or so eye fucking you? Like, hello?

He knows he can’t really be upset, but when you smile, bright and sweet, he swears he’s seeing red everywhere.

“Dude, chill, what the hell,” Jack hears someone say, but he doesn’t even acknowledge who. He just keeps staring as you lean forward to reach Kovacevic’s ear, standing on the tip of your toes.

You look so fucking gorgeous. Even if Jack believes you shouldn’t be wearing something that short— not because it doesn’t look good but because he can’t even protect you if someone decides to try something funny—, he knows you’re the most beautiful person he has ever seen.

Yet now you were laughing at Kovacevic, probably not even funny, jokes.

“Luke,” he calls his brother, who silently rolls his eyes before putting his phone down to give his brother his full attention. “Can you, like, help me out?”

“I’m not going to talk to her,” he says. “What is this, fifth grade? ‘Hey, Y/n, my brother really likes you and would like to hold hands during recess if that’s possible—‘” he says, doing a very annoying voice.

Jack holds in the need to punch him.

“No. I meant something like getting Johnathan out of there or something,” he explains. “So I can go talk to her.

“That’s just as childish but fine.”

Luke makes his way to where you and Johnathan were standing and says something that makes Kovacevic’s eyebrows meet his hairline and, the best part, also makes him leave.

So you’re standing in the middle of the dance floor by yourself, but not for long because—

“Hey, there, Y/n,” Jack greets you, trying his hardest to sound cool. You chuckle, smiling at him.

“Hi, Rowdy. How are you?”

“Better now.” He answers smoothly, which makes you laugh.

“You’re awful,” you grin. ���Aren’t you supposed to be with Mercer? It’s his birthday…”

“I’d rather be here, with you,” he puts his hands inside his front pockets, and you stare at him closely. The hat he’s wearing makes him look hotter, even if it gets you a little bit sad because you can’t fully see his perfect, golden hair. “You look hot.”

You tilt your head, the unexpected compliment making you blush. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he hums. “You look even hotter now that you’re not talking to other guys.”

That makes you roll your eyes, even if you’re still smiling. “You sound like a toxic boyfriend.”

“I could be that, yeah,” he smirks.

“Toxic?” You raise your eyebrow.

“A boyfriend,” he presses his lips together. Then, “Your boyfriend.”

“Well,” you step closer, looking up at him. “I think we can make that work.”

He smiles before kissing you, and surely, the rest is story.

[avocado-writing]

BG3 companions reacting to Tav calling them mommy/daddy?

huehehehehe >:) writing as if you shout it out in the middle of sex without meaning to - minors DNI.

Astarion

Surprised but super into it? Not necessarily because he likes being called daddy but because he can see how much it turns you on.

“Oh? Do you like it when daddy slides his cock into you, darling?”

You go glassy-eyed immediately and he continues to murmur against your skin as he fucks you, aren’t you doing well for daddy? you want to cum around daddy’s cock, hmm?

You do. Harder than you have in weeks.

Afterwards you apologise that you sort of sprung that on him out of nowhere. He smiles and says it was a wonderful little secret for you to share with him.

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” “Absolutely not, darling. Now let daddy give you a kiss. 😌”

Gale

Fucking flabbergasted lmao. Stops mid-thrust

He has never considered himself a “daddy”…

When you see how baffled he is, you clamp your hands over your mouth. You are mortified.

“I am so, so sorry, Gale…” “No, no, love, it’s fine… but maybe… maybe ‘sir’? Not ‘daddy’?”

Your face splits into a devilish smile. “Oh, I can do that… sir.”

His cock hardens even further and he gets to work fucking you again, with gusto…

Karlach

Grins so so so wide

If you try to cover your face in embarrassment, she pulls your hands away so she can make eye contact.

“Aww, you want mummy to take care of you, darling? Make sure you cum?”

All you can do is nod. She fucks you with such vigour that you think you might be about to pass out.

Afterwards she gives you lots of cuddles and checks that you’re okay with how rough she was (you are. A lot.)

Is definitely happy for you to call her that in bed again…

Shadowheart

Is surprised… but interested.

Gives another thrust of her hips, encouraging you to repeat it, letting you be a little writing mess beneath her.

Will keep prompting you. “Call me that again.” “Mummy…” “Again.” “Mummy…!”

Is a bit smug afterwards, when you’re lying there blissed out of your mind from having cum a lot.

“You know, you could have just told me you wanted to use some pet names, rather than letting it slip out in flagrante delicto…”

Laughs when you’re all flustered, using healing magic to soothe any bruises she’s given you. ❤️

Wyll

Another one not super keen on it, and will tell you so.

He just doesn’t find it particularly sexy? He wants sex to be a sweet and intimate thing and well… if you’re going to use names then…

”can you call me your blade? or the blade of frontiers?”

You apologise for springing the ‘daddy’ on him out of nowhere, but when you begin to whisper about him being your 'brave blade' he gets back into it quickly.

Grab onto his horns while telling him to drive his sword home… he’s putty in your hands.

Both have a healthy discussion about what kinks you are and aren’t into the next day. We LOVE a respectful king 👑

Lae’zel

”What? I am not your mother.” “I know Lae’zel, it’s uhh, a sex thing.” “Oh. Why?”

You then have to explain that it’s sort of about respect and domination. A compliment to someone who’s rocked your world.

She smiles enthusiastically and begins to fuck you again properly. Fucks you so hard that your body aches afterwards.

Pillow talk after: “you may call me that again. I enjoy hearing that you know how well I pleasure you.” “Mmm, thank you for that, Lae’zel.” “You are welcome.”

I think it gets brought up in camp because you didn’t realise how loud you shouted it. Your face is on fire for the whole day. Lae’zel just looks pleased with herself.

Halsin

All the blood goes straight to his cock, if that’s even possible when he’s already inside you. He’s harder than he’s ever been in his life before.

He’s been called many things in bed before, but hearing that? From you?

Fucks you with an enthusiasm he didn’t realise he was capable of. You moan and cry out and keep chanting “daddy, daddy, daddy” and he cums so much that it drips out your used little hole all down your legs.

He apologises for his over enthusiasm and checks that you’re alright. You grin and kiss him, and promise to start using that word more…

Minthara

She just smiles, I think, and you know she has you wrapped around her little finger.

She fucks you with what borders on violence, so much force that you actually pass out because you came so hard.

So worth it though.

You wake up in her arms and she’s still grinning, stroking your hair.

”Mummy’s very pleased with you.” This is the only acknowledgment she ever gives of it, but if you bring up the name again in bed, she gives a repeat performance 😌

[inkedells]

look at me a little more | dbf!joel miller x f!reader

A/N: first of all, SMUTTT so much smut up ahead. holy crap this is the longest thing i've ever written (pathetic, i know, blame the commitment issues) enjoy lovies!! also lmk if you want a part 2 maybe possibly!?

m!dni | requests open.

summary: dbf!neighbor!joel accidentally drenches you (virgin!reader) while washing his car and you can’t help but notice the way he eyes you up. it’s only once he’s in your bedroom, fixing your closet door as an apology, that you realize the best person to rid you of your virginity and teach you precisely how to please yourself and others had been right in front of you the whole time; it's getting joel on board with the whole idea that's the hard part.

word count: 5.5k

tags/warnings: SMUTTTT, virgin!reader, dbf!neighbor!joel faces moral conflicts (to fuck or not to fuck!?!?), porn with plot, sooo much tension, dirty talk, use of pet names, blowjobs, handjobs, cumplay, reader eats joel's cum, grinding, making out, oral sex, no!outbreak au, reader's innocent in the sense that she doesn't really know how to do a lot of things when it comes to sex but still has a ton of desires

masterlist

There was a certain shame that came with being infatuated with your dad’s best friend.

You were sitting around on the porch on a hot summer afternoon, wearing your shortest cotton shorts as you sipped the juice box brand you had loved since you were a little girl. Legs crossed, foot tapping the air, and most importantly, eyes absolutely trained on the ripple of Joel Miller’s biceps as he washed his car.

You didn’t know why you liked to stare at him so much. But you did know it was wrong. Immoral. Eyeing up someone in their forties? What was wrong with you? That was your dad’s best f—

“Hey, Mr. Miller!” You called over, shutting down every ounce of doubt in your mind.

He turned around without hesitation, and when he did, you waved. The first time you’d done that, he had to work a little harder to figure out the source of the voice, eyes searching in random directions before finally settling on you. But now, it was like he knew exactly where to look—And, well, that was all it took for you to decide you would be spending the next hour washing a car if it meant spending time with Joel.

So you settled your juice box down on the wooden floor of the porch and skipped over to his house. He must not have heard your footsteps behind him over the sound of the hose, so your simple tap on his shoulder resulted in him whipping around, hose in hand, as he consequently drenched you.

You yelped, breaking out into nervous laughter both from shock and how cold the water was. Joel fumbled to turn off the hose as he began profusely apologizing. “Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry—”

Then he properly saw you. From Joel’s perspective, your clothes were reduced to translucency, practically melting into your skin.

But you didn’t know that. You never fully grasped just how vulnerable you had become from his accident, so when you caught him averting his gaze as quickly as he could, you were a little confused.

“You—Uh—I,” Joel stumbled before clearing his throat, “There’s clothes. Inside. Sarah’s. You can, um, you can go and… y’know. Change into them. Walkin’ all the way back to your house doesn’t seem like a… viable… option.”

By then, a blush had already risen to your cheeks just from how delicately Joel was treating you. As if you were something he had to be careful with, like if he didn’t think long and hard about every word coming out of his mouth, there would be consequences. 

“Lead the way.”

Joel gave you a firm smile before swallowing the lump in his throat and motioning for you to follow him as he walked. Once he had the front door open, he let you go in first. Even as you carefully walked past him, you could feel his eyes staring at you.

“Up there,” Joel gestured, “Um, first door on the left. I’ll… be outside.”

As he explained, you subconsciously scanned over the planes of his body—probably a habit you picked up from the multiple weeks of watching him work. But then he was turning to leave, and you could tell he was still really tense. You didn’t know why a simple accident had him so tripped up, but you had the urge to alleviate his worry.

“Hey,” You called, arms wrapped around yourself in an effort to stave off the cold. He turned around, concerned until he saw your soft smile and relaxed a little, “On a scale of one to ten, how sick and tired are you of washing that truck?”

There was only one way to break Joel out of his nervous state; you had to make the situation lighthearted; you learned that from years of watching him hang out with your dad.

He searched your eyes for a beat, eyes completely unwavering, before muttering, “Like a fifty.”

You both breathed a laugh at that. For the briefest moment, you thought you noticed Joel’s gaze flitting to your chest. Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could do a double take, his eyes were glued to yours again.

“So then,” You started, regathering yourself and pushing away whatever your brain was conjuring up, “How do you feel about replacing one lousy chore with another?”

“What kinda chore we talkin’?”

“Well, my closet door’s all screwed up. And you know, instead of apologizing for soaking me by way of expensive concert tickets and a brand new car, like how I know you were planning on doing—”

“—Oh, of course,” Joel sarcastically remarked, playing along as you quickly noticed the worry on his face faded into a crooked grin.

“Well, I really think I can just settle for the closet door fix. Go ahead and save the brand new car for when you break my toaster.”

“Okay, okay,” Joel laughed, “I get it. Go change, then you can lead me to this broken closet door.”

-

Sarah’s clothes definitely belonged to a fourteen-year-old. Not your taste, but then again, if you were fourteen like her, you probably would’ve dressed like that too.

You couldn’t settle on a top, all of them were either too small or bore a graphic design too childish for you. You did find a pair of stretchier shorts that fit alright though, so you decided you’d just pick up one of Joel’s shirts from the pile of clean laundry you saw sitting atop the washing machine downstairs.

When you made it out the front door, the hose was away and his toolbox was resting on the ground by his feet. Joel was drying up his car with a cloth, and when he heard you hop down the steps and subsequently turned your way, you weren’t exactly expecting him to completely stumble at the sight of you in his shirt.

“Oh—You, uh, I thought you were gettin’ Sarah’s clothes?”

“I was, none of her tops fit so I grabbed one of yours from the laundry downstairs.” You absorbed Joel’s cryptic reaction and began to worry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I really should’ve asked—”

“—No, no, it’s fine. Really. Doesn't matter.”

Joel picked up his toolbox, then the both of you began walking over to your house. It wasn’t that far away at all, probably a couple of hundred feet at most, but he opted into small talk anyway.

“Um,” Joel began, “What’d you come over for in the first place? Didn’t really get a chance to ask ‘cause of this whole… debacle.”

You giggled at his old man vocabulary. Debacle.

“I wanted to help with your car, but looks like those plans got derailed.”

He breathed a polite laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess it turned out that way.”

Before an awkward silence could fall upon the both of you, your brain settled on something to bring up.

“Hey, my dad’s having that July 4th barbecue the day after tomorrow. You’re coming right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, honey.”

Honey? Honey. Honey honey honey honey—

He cleared his throat. “Where is your dad, anyway?”

You were both standing on your porch now, Joel’s eyes raking you over as you fumbled with the front door.

“Um, I think he’s out working.”

“Great.”

Great?

Before you could ask him what he meant, Joel realized what he had said. “Wait, no, not great. I don’t—I don’t know why I said that. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You pushed the door open. “Hey,” You brought a hand up to his chest and patted it, “You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you keep assuming all your mistakes are colossal and worthy of that much panic.”

His shoulders seemed to relax a little at that—you weren’t sure if it was your hand or your words that did it.

Eventually, you both found yourselves in your bedroom. You were sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched Joel work. Kneeling on one knee with a screwdriver in hand, he fumbled with one of the closet door’s hinges as he muttered little things to himself under his breath.

“Thanks for this, Mr. Miller.”

He turned to you, nodding as he seemed to process that he was in your bedroom. Your bedroom.

“So,” Joel began, as he dug through his toolbox, “Is your boyfriend visiting too? Or, y’know, girlfriend. Three months is a long ti—”

You softly smiled. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend.”

He turned to look at you again as he turned a screwdriver, this time scanning you over. “Hm, I don’t believe you. Sweet thing like you? Single?”

“Oh, stop,” You blushed, shooing him off.

Joel stood to his feet, dusting his hands off on his thighs. “All fixed. Next time you ne—”

“—I’ve never been in a relationship before. Actually.”

Joel stared at you for a moment before diverting his gaze to the ground. “I, um…”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. You don’t wanna know about my completely nonexistent dating history,” You lightly smacked your forehead, “Wait, it’s existent if we count the boy I dated for a week in fourth grade.”

Joel laughed, sitting down next to you on your bed. “It’s okay. I haven’t really dated anybody since Sarah’s mom, either. Long-term, anyways.”

“Yeah, well at least you’re not a virgin.”

Joel seemed to tense at that, and you immediately regretted saying it.

“Oh gosh,” You cringed, hands gripping your head, “I really just say anything, don’t I?”

Joel chuckled, head hung between his shoulders with his eyes squinted shut. You eventually laughed, too, simply because—and you realized it sounded stupid—Joel’s laughter was contagious.

“Alright, alright,” Joel beckoned, “Lemme be serious for a second. C’mere.”

You slumped down next to him, staring up at the ceiling before turning to make eye contact.

“That’s not something you have to worry about. You got time, honey, you’re in college. All that crap about late blooming isn’t real. It’s about whenever you’re ready, and whenever you find the right person to do it with.”

You smiled up at him softly. “Thanks, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel. Just Joel.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. So you stayed like that, searching his eyes for something you didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

“Joel,” You echoed, repeating his name back to him, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“I, uh…” Joel trailed off, his gaze flitting down to your lips. “I…” He tried again, but it went nowhere.

You exhaled, and almost immediately, his hands cupped your face as he leaned forward and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to your lips.

It was warm, and gentle, and amazing, and you didn’t know if you could ever let him stop kissing you with how delightful the scruff of his beard felt against your skin.

He did break the kiss after a few seconds, though, and it left you breathless. “Joel…”

His muscles seemed to visibly tense as he mistook your speechless state for confusion. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why—”

“—No. No, I liked it,” You smiled softly at him, “I, um, you know. Wouldn’t mind if you kissed me… again.”

With reassurance that you weren’t absolutely appalled, his limbs relaxed. He leaned forward again until he was kissing you. Slow at first, languid. But then it turned fervent and desperate, breaths being exchanged into one another's mouths as lips slotted together like fingers intertwined—so perfect, as if they were biologically designed to do so.

It wasn’t long until he had your back flat against your bed, and you felt his growing hardness dig into your hip.

“Y’know what that is, don’t you?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“You know why it’s there?”

You shrugged.

He gripped the fabric of your—no, his—shirt as his voice rumbled, “You prancin’ around in my shirt did that.”

Without a second thought, you clumsily palmed him there through the thick fabric of his jeans and reveled in the consequential shuddering moan he let out

“Joel, I don’t… I don’t think I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s okay, honey, I’ll teach you.”

Propping himself up with his elbow, he placed his hand atop your own and guided the movements of your open palm. Things like pressing your hand further into him so as to increase the pressure between his legs, and encouraging back-and-forth motions that had his hips rutting and his breath hitching.

Once you got the hang of it, he removed his hand from your own. You felt his hand snake down your neck, then the side of your torso. 

“I trust you,” You whispered, fingers playing with the happy trail peaking Joel’s pants, hoping to absolve him of any guilt or doubt.

But the second Joel’s fingertips grazed the waistband of your shorts, he froze. He was staring off somewhere to the right, so you followed his gaze until you found what he was so disturbed by.

A framed photo on your nightstand, one of you standing next to your dad on vacation in Maui.

You understood immediately; that picture was an astute reminder of exactly who’s daughter Joel was about to debauch.

Your hand fell away from his crotch as he leaned back on his haunches and ran his hands through his hair with worried eyes.

“Joel?” You whispered, but then he was completely backing off of you as he muttered curses under his breath. “Hey, no, come back. What’s wrong?”

It was a dumb question. You knew what was wrong. Even though you were well beyond legal, it seemed to mean little in the situation—the facts were, if he touched you, it was betrayal.

“This is…” Joel panted, standing to his feet and raking his hands through his hair, “I shouldn’t have… Fuck. Fuck. I have to go.”

And just like that, he was gone.

-

That night, your lights stayed on and you didn’t close your curtains.

You stripped yourself of Joel’s shirt first, going excruciatingly slow in case Joel happened to be watching through his neighboring window. You occasionally shot glances at his window on the off chance that the window illuminated, but you quickly realized if the two of you made eye contact that wouldn’t be good either. You’d gotten all the way down to your underwear before you spotted his light flick on from the corner of your eye.

So you did the first thing that came to mind; You turned your back to your window. Panties halfway down your legs, torso bent with your knees straightened as you slowly shed your clothing. Hoping. Hoping for him to avert his attention ever so slightly and accidentally catch you like this. Hoping he would think of it every time he talked to you.

Without ever making eye contact, you would never know if Joel actually saw anything, and he would never know you hadn’t actually “forgotten” to close your curtains.

No pressure on either of you.

You went to sleep with a hand shoved down the front of your panties as you thought of all the things you wanted Joel to do to you.

-

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Jesus. What time was it? You stretched until sleep left you and opened your eyes as wide as you could (not very wide at all). From what you could gather, the sun was definitely up. You, however, did not have the willpower required to read off of your phone screen 5 seconds after waking up, so you answered the phone without reading the contact.

“Hello?” You groaned, voice gruff from sleep.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

You knew that voice anywhere. Almost immediately, you shot upright and cleared your throat as you rubbed your eyes. “Oh, hey Mr. Mill—uh, I mean, Joel,” You breathed a nervous laugh before remembering his question, “No. No, it’s okay I was like, basically awake already, um, so… what’s up? Why’d you—Why’d you call?”

“Right, so just to preface, I understand things are not... ideal... between us right now. But to be honest, you’re the only person available who I trust with this, and… let me just explain. I got called into work unexpectedly and Sarah’s gonna be home alone. Lately, she’s been getting into these rebellious fits, and I just don’t want to risk another situation where she sneaks out at night to meet up with her boyfriend again.”

“Sarah and rebellious fits? Really?”

“Yes, believe it or not. So do you think you could just hang around my place for, to be honest, a long while? It’s looking like I’m gonna be home really late tonight. Oh, and I can pay you.”

“Oh, shut up, you’re not paying me.”

Joel exhaled appreciatively through the phone. “Okay, well I’m home right now if you wanna come by and eat some breakfast. Least I could do. I gotta leave in like thirty minutes by the way, so. Take your time but also don’t take your time?”

You smiled, hoping he could hear it in your voice. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”

“Thanks, honey.”

Oh god. There it was again. You thought you might actually pass out, but you quickly turned off your racing brain enough to mutter a small “mhm” before abruptly hanging up.

Okay. Joel Miller. Your dad’s best friend, who was this close to absolving you of every ounce of innocence in your body… just asked you to watch his daughter. What could go wrong?

When you got to his house, he had left already (you definitely took too long in the shower). He did leave out a plate of food, though, along with the message, “Thanks again. Enjoy the pancakes,” scratched out on a post-it note.

And boy did it turn out to be a long day. Sarah wasn’t that much of a handful, she mostly took care of herself. The hard part was lunch.

You attempted to cook something for the two of you, but it only ended in disaster when you left the quiches in the oven for too long. Then you decided Penne a la Vodka couldn’t be that hard, and you couldn't be more wrong. A whole box of pasta was ruined because Sarah didn’t realize the pasta went in after the water boiled, not before. Eventually, you both just accepted defeat and ordered Panera Bread.

Later, Sarah popped into the living room to let you know she was going up to her room to take a nap, and you figured you’d do the same on the couch.

The last thing you read was the time on the cable box; 7:37.

-

Metal clanking. The turn of a key. The creaking of a door. The blaring siren of an alarm system.

“Jesus—Fuck. I thought I told her to turn off the alarm at 8.”

And Joel’s voice.

You jolted awake, blinking wide as you moved to sit upright on the couch. The time on the cable box was 11:50.

Soon, the alarm stopped, and not long after, Joel’s figure came into view. He was wearing a denim button-up with work pants and work boots.

“Hey,” Joel called, setting his things down next to the kitchen island.

“Hi,” You replied, “How was work?”

Joel gave you a polite smile before pulling open the refrigerator door to retrieve a beer. With his head still poked inside the fridge, he replied, “The usual.”

“Well, what was the usual li—”

“—Were you asleep?”

“Uh…" You cleared your throat in an effort to stall as you debated whether or not you would lie. "Yeah, I was. Sorry.”

Joel took a swig of his beer, staring at you from across the room for a minute before blurting out, “The usual is busy. Extremely busy and tedious. But, um, how was Sarah? Hope you weren’t asleep too long.”

“Nope,” You lied, “I Wasn’t asleep long at all. Sarah was great. We had a bit of trouble with lunch, but everything ended up fine.”

“Good. Good. Well you can head out now, thanks for taking care of her.”

No. You did not want to "head out." You rose to your feet. “Joel?”

He looked around as he swallowed his beer. “Uh, yeah?”

“I actually wanted to talk to you. About yesterday.”

He peered down at the ground, swishing around the bottle in his hand. “That’s—That’s okay, honey. I think it’s best we forget that happened.”

“What? But why?”

Joel crossed the room and sat down next to you, leaning back against the couch while you sat back down on the edge with your elbows resting on your knees.

“Come on,” He started, “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly why we’re… this… is impossible.”

“Joel, I—”

“—I’m sorry. You should get home now.”

You turned around to face him. “Joel. No one has to know.” 

“As I said, I’m sorry. I handled yesterday… terribly. There were a million different ways to go about that, and I somehow chose the worst one. But we don't work. We can't work.”

You felt your eyes begin to water, but you tried to push the feeling down.

“Hey, hey,” He lulled, the hardness of his attitude falling away as he noticed the sad shine in your eyes, “Don’t cry.” He pulled you against him, rubbing your shoulder firmly.

“Joel,” You mumbled in a small voice, sniffling against his denim shirt with a frown.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to justify what he was quickly realizing was inevitable. You were an adult, somebody else independent of your father. It was your choice who to get involved with, just like it was his. This was mutual.

He knew he would regret it later, but your innocence and desperation allured him to the point of no return.

“It’s late,” Joel began, voice gentle as he offered you one last out, “You should go home. You need sleep, you’re not thinking straight. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“No,” You replied, removing yourself from his body so you could look him in the eye. “I don’t want to leave. I want you to… I want you to do what you said you’d do.”

Knowing exactly what you were talking about, he redundantly asked in a whisper, “And what’s that?”

You wiped a stray tear as you clumsily moved to straddle his lap. Almost automatically, his hands found their way to your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the slivers of skin peeking between your cami tank top and the waistband of your shorts. But it seemed at some point his consciousness realized what he was doing because his hands suddenly dropped to his sides. And, well, you just wouldn’t have that, so you grabbed hold of his wrists and returned them to where they were settled on your hips before you rested your own hands on Joel’s chest.

“You remember, don’t you?” You shifted in his lap, “You said you’d teach me.”

“How to have sex.” He said it more like a confirmation rather than a question.

You blushed at his blatant use of the word. It was like every fifth thing coming out of his mouth was sending your brain spiraling. You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, sex. Blowjobs, orgasms, literal sex. All of it.”

Silence for a beat. “I have one condition,” Joel warned.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“The second I suspect your dad is onto us, that’s it. It’s over. No more messing around, none of it. I can’t lose my best friend.”

You nodded. You probably shouldn’t have agreed so easily, but you didn’t actually think you and Joel would ever get caught.

“Okay, then,” Joel whispered. “Good. What do you wanna do first? Start off easy.”

You looked around the room nervously, careful not to make eye contact as you spoke. “Like. I dunno. Maybe for right now, I could just… touch you. Touch it, I mean.”

Joel nodded, and when your breathing began to grow the slightest bit uneven from nervousness, he noticed and rubbed your upper arm reassuringly. “Hey. Relax. Climb down and sit right there on the ground between my legs, and I’ll show you where to start.”

And so you did. Joel peered down at you with heavy lids as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and thus began your first lesson.

“Unbuckle my pants.”

With shaky hands, you removed his belt and undid his fly. You couldn’t explain why, but as soon as you caught sight of the bulge in his boxers, your mouth watered.

“What…” You began, “What now?”

“Whatever feels comfortable.”

With a light, feathery touch, you delicately traced a singular finger along the outline of his cock. Joel shivered at the contact, hands shooting to grip the sofa. Touching it felt different this time, more intense because you could feel every ridge and vein; you blamed it on the much thinner fabric dividing your fingers and his cock.

Your breath shuddered before speaking, “Can I take it ou—”

“—Yes, God, yes.”

You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling downwards until his cock sprang free. It was thick, long, and wet at the tip, and you found yourself instinctively leaning further into it.

“Okay,” Joel sighed shakily, “Now just form a circle with your fingers and stroke it.”

You did as Joel said, and when your fingers finally made contact with his cock, you sighed at how velvety the skin was there. Soft and smooth, except for the trimmed hair surrounding the base. You stroked him steadily, biting your lip as you watched the wetness leaking from his tip spread down his shaft.

“Twist at the tip, honey, twist at the—Yeah, just like that. So good, you’re doing so good.” You couldn’t help but smile when Joel tilted his head back from the pleasure of it all.

With Joel still reeling from the contact of your hand, you took his momentary refusal to look down at you as an opportunity to surprise him a little.

You leaned forward and kitten-licked his tip, and it had him finally making eye contact with you as he whispered, “Oh, do that again.”

And so you did, adoring the look of pleasure strewn across Joel’s face.

Joel offered you a quick, crooked grin. “How’s it feel?” He asked, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip as your tongue played with his tip.

You pulled away for a moment to respond, “How’s what feel?”

“Licking a man’s cock.”

You let the spit that had gathered in your mouth drip down onto his length. “I have the urge to do more with it.”

“Like what?”

“Like put it all the way in my mouth.”

And so kitten licks turned into long stripes up his shift, which turned into eager suckling on his tip, which turned into forcing his cock down as far as it could go without making you gag.

Joel’s hand gripped the back of your head, but he never pushed you down. Whenever you did accidentally end up gagging, he petted your hair, mumbling encouragements as best he could through the blinding pleasure. Things like, “Yeah, honey, doing so good. That’s it. Just a little more. Mhm.” And his affectionate nature, his gentleness, his reassuring words—he was exactly how you hoped he would be like. Not to mention, the general hotness of it all had your hips canting down against nothing, in desperate search of relief.

“M’close, sweetheart. Take it—Take it out.”

“I don’t wanna,” You replied in a hoarse voice as you jacked him off.

“You’re not ready for that, honey, just take it out. Take it out.”

You reluctantly complied, removing him from the tight heat of your mouth, drool dripping down your chin as you stroked him rapidly.

“Joel, I… I think I’m wet.”

He moaned a curse at that, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths as his orgasm approached him. “Jesus f-fuckin’… Tell me more.”

“I need you to touch it for me next time. Please. Maybe you could… Maybe you could put your mouth on it like how I put my mouth on you.”

“Yes, yes, oh fuck, I’m cumming, don’t stop stroking it,” Joel moaned, hot white spurts shooting up and all over your hand as you stroked him through it.

With his breathing still labored, he panted out in a high voice, “You’re lying. You’re f-fucking lying. Tell me the truth.”

“About what?”

“This isn’t—You’ve done this before. No way you made me cum this hard and it’s your first time.”

“Well,” You breathed a nervous laugh, “That’s flattering. But you’re my first. Trust me.”

When his orgasm fully subsided, Joel lay slumped against the sofa with his legs spread wide. You remained between them with your head resting on his thigh as you just stared at his cock. Took it all in, every curve, every vein, and inevitably, the cum that spurted itself over the surrounding area.

“What are you doing?” Joel chuckled, petting your hair as you smiled.

“I’m… I don’t know really. I just can’t stop looking at it.”

But then curiosity got the best of you, and you began to drag your fingers through the mess at his base. It caught Joel off-guard, his entire body stiffening as he watched you.

“What does it taste like?” You asked quietly as you examined the cum on your fingers. 

“Oh my god,” Joel groaned through his labored breathing, “I swear, if you do what I think you’re about to do, I’ll be hard again in five seconds.”

“I’ll take my chances,” You joked, bringing your finger to your mouth and licking it clean, ultimately wincing at the taste. “It’s like, bitter. And salty. And kinda sweet. But mostly bitter and salty. To be honest, it’s kinda nasty but I can see myself getting used to it.”

“Wow,” Joel sighed, “You just really know how to set the mood. Make things real romantic.”

“Oh, shut it,” You huffed, playfully swatting his thigh before getting up and plopping down next to him on the sofa as he got to work stuffing himself back into his pants despite the mess he made—that was a problem for future Joel. 

“Gonna miss you, little Joel,” You joked to his crotch.

“Oh my god, you’re the worst,” Joel chuckled painfully with his fists in his eyes. “I’m never letting you near ‘little Joel’ again.”

“Mm, no, because I just made you cum so hard you thought I was lying about being a virgin.”

He sighed at that. “You got me there.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

You both laughed at that; In fact, you both were laughing a lot. And at everything. In your head, you blamed it on the ecstatic high of being in each other’s presence this way.

When the mutual laughter died down, Joel looked at you for a moment, admiring you. Then, slow and hesitant as ever, he leaned in to kiss you.

“Do you taste it?” You whispered, breaking the kiss as you fought another giggle.

“Yes, actually. Wait, don’t say it please, this is actually a nice moment—”

“—Your cum!” You loud-whispered.

Another sigh. “My cum.”

You eagerly kissed him back after that, swearing off mood-breaking jokes for the rest of the night. Eventually, you even became too tired to kiss, simply letting your forehead rest against his. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand snaked up your leg and inched under the leg of your shorts, using force to push your legs open wider.

“Need me to take care of this?” He asked into your mouth before letting his kisses travel down to your neck.

“Joel,” You breathed, breaths beginning to come out in rapid succession as your hips gyrated in response to how dangerously close Joel’s hand was to your pussy. “I… I’m tired.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do a thing,” Joel breathed, removing his hand from beneath your shorts in order to pull down the waistband. “It’s a yes or no question. Just give me a yes or a no.”

Your breath hitched as you opened your eyes and stared at the little bit of empty space left between you and Joel. The throbbing between your legs was bad, but it was something about the delayed gratification of saving things for later that stopped you from saying yes. “No, I… I think that’s it for tonight.”

Joel withdrew his hand, reassuringly cracking a brief smile. “Hey, uh, spend the night. It’s way too late, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, but what about Sarah?” 

“I came home super late, you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

You thought about it for a second before agreeing. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thank you. But I’m taking the couch.”

“What? No—”

“—Joel. I’m taking the couch.”

He looked at you skeptically but then agreed. “If you change your mind just let me know.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

Joel squeezed your leg before getting up and making his way to the stairs. “Goodnight.”

masterlist

A/N: strikethrough means i can't tag you, check your settings

taglist:

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