#and only a little about how I'm not very feminine
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cartoonsinthemorning · 3 days ago
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Hi forgive me if this has been addressed before! I'm a little new to your fem!stan stuff (I saw your ask reblogged by Boston and snuck out of the back of their foodtruck to send this) but I love the idea and was wondering does stan pretend to be Stanford when he falls in the portal? (If that is the route that's taken in the au at least) because it would be really interesting to see if constance would enjoy the freedom that comes with being a man but at the same time I think it would drive (incel) ford up the wall if he came back and saw his sister running a successful business out of his house. There would be this extra layer of tension as ford has to grapple with his own learned misogyny. Though I also imagine exploring the multiverse and seeing the way gender is explored or even ignored in other worlds would probably force him to have some realizations before hand but whether or not hed really allow himself to internalize those realizations is another story. Bros got an easy excuse to not analyze his own sexism since hes trying to hunt down bill
And then when he comes back and sees his sister is doing just fine would probably wound his pride a little bit. All those fantasies and unfair expectations of their roles hes built in his mind are forced to come crashing down once again
I'm also just kind of obsessed with the idea of constance finally learning how to be /stan/ in gravity falls because she never had the freedom and safety to do so before. I'm sure a large part of rejection of any femininity whatsoever came from not having the option to do so in the past. But then she watches the kids over the summer and sees mabel embracing makeovers and grappling hooks hand in hand. Dipper is insistent on being a "man" but never once tries to tell mabel she needs to be a "woman"
This ask is all over the place sorry I think i had a point to the start of this and now I'm just rambling about your own au to you lmfao
Anyway love the concept (and your art!!)
-🐶
Hello! Thank you for passing by and sending me such a nice message, sharing your own ideas with me! and many thanks for the compliments too, of course ❤ That said, I'm afraid my answer will be a tad disappointing. Because, the fem!Stan I enjoy to imagine is cis, and I can't imagine a cis woman being able to consistently pretend to be a man for thirty years, without losing their mind (in the same way it's detrimental for most trans people to supress their true identity for a lifetime, non?). Especially, in the same way canon Stan is very masculine (with a sprinkle of femininity, despite his shame about it), I like to imagine Constance as a lady who is very proud and comfortable in her womanhood- despite her loud voice and direct and somehow brash manners. Even in her younger years, when she was classified as a tomboy by most, she loved girly things- dresses, make up, gossip magazines, etc. without issues. I think of Stan in her 60s wearing tacky jewelry, lipstick, and hair-curlers at night, tbh. That's why, in this AU, my mind skirts around the part were Ford gets stuck into the portal.
For example, I sometimes imagine 30s Ford simply having a change of heart and dismantling the portal, and (now former) Drifter!Constance living with him from that point on (and, of course, I elaborated this one up until Stan and Mabel get into the picture, but for the sake of brevity I'll stop here). Or, I bend canon a little, making up that the people of Gravity Falls only heard of some researcher who was gonna build and live in a shack in the forest, but they never actually got to see them, let alone find out if it was a man or a woman. It's a version were the chaos Ford caused in town while posses by Bill either never happened or he did it without getting caught by police or getting seen. And, about the name on documents and stuff-- Constance was a marinated and resourceful conwoman at that point, she simply found a way to make things work. Hell, they have the same last name- maybe this time she registered Ford as deceased, passed herself as his wife, and inherited the Shack and the rest of Ford's possessions. I know many, reading this, would think it's heartless of Stan, but to me this trick is fucking hilarious. Especially, I'm grinning like a maniac imagining how mad and appalled Ford would look as he realizes the trick Constance pulled- not only because what a fucking ASSHOLE she's been, to use his "death" to appropriate his stuff- but also!! secretly!! because WHAT the FUCK- he often fantasized about Stan being his wife, but this is the most cruel and ironic monkey paw situation EVER!! To reconnect back to your speculations about sexist!Ford being humiliated and mad about Constance running a business independently: I like it! it's fun to read! But, I have to go deeper. I usually think of Ford's sexism toward Constance to be the outside layer, so to speak. I think deep down Ford always knew Stan had the potential to be strong, resourceful and independent, despite what their ma, pa, teachers and other people said. Ford grew next to her, he knows what this girl is capable of, how determined she is. And that's the point...What he really dreads, what he really hates, is the idea she doesn't need him, at all. That's what would make Ford actually upset about Stan running a business: knowing that, hadn't she brought him back, she would had been fine, without him. Sexism would be the mental shield Ford uses to protect himself from this painful acknowledgment: He's just mad because his fraud of a sister thinks she's being successful, but all she accomplished was using her physical appearance and womanly ways to seduce and manipulate. That's all, really. I roll my eyes at him, here, which is a good indicator I got him in character, if I can say so myself. The last scene you shared, with Stan realizing her nephew and niece aren't as oppressed by gender roles as she herself used to be- and bypassing them, even- is SO sweet 🥺 I have absolutely no doubt in my mind: one thing that does NOT change in either the canon universe and the genderbend one, is that Stan would love and adore Dipper and Mabel- and learn a lot from them ❤ PS: is the puppy icon your anon signature? it's so cute! 🐶 look at this fine boy. Great choice.
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linden-after-hours · 1 year ago
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HELLO I JUST MORE OR LESS CAME OUT TO MY PARENTS AND IT WENT FAIRLY OKAY
7/10, could have been worse, but I would not like to do that again
STILL I WANNA CELEBRATE
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daxite · 2 months ago
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yeah i think i've fully come to terms with the fact that i'm 100% somewhere on the ace spectrum lol
#dax rambles#i'm still absolutely bi but i'm just so fucking indifferent towards sex and relationship shit 90% of the time#i have attraction towards whatever gender but i don't even really consider it or think about it -- granted there is stuff i'm attracted to#i do like many various masculine & feminine features etc -- but ultimately it's just like i'm attracted to who i'm attracted to lol#but i really don't give much of a shit about sex itself really outside of when i'm in gooner mode and even then i only really care about#my weird fetishes/kinks LMAO#and relationship-wise it's the same though yeah i still want a relationship and have a possible crush on someone -- though that could be a#rebound thing since i went through a pretty rough breakup earlier this year + there's some other stuff so i doubt i'll act on it -- but#when it comes to relationships in general like in media and shit i really do not care honestly aside from a small handful of exceptions lol#like i still see so many people talking about shipping constantly here and i'm realising how truly little i give a shit about any#of that kind of stuff LMAO like more power to you but yeah it's never been something i'm that interested in at all aside from a small#handful of ships i like but honestly that's more of a lesser point#i just have zero interest in romance outside of what my own relationships would be i guess is the best way to put it#and i know i could never ever ever be in a relationship with someone who i haven't at least known as a friend for a good few years prior#like no fucking way lmao i need that established level of trust and bond + chemistry but i've literally never developed a crush on someone#outside of friends anyway so lmao and by crush i do mean someone who i would want to try a relationship with not just#“i'm attracted to this person” when it comes to attraction it's whatever and even with that it's very much a “damn they're hot would” and#that's about it lol it's not really super often either which is another main reason why i'm pretty confident i'm asexual to a degree#i think it was something i was in denial about for a while because i'm very happy with & enjoy being bisexual but either way i am still bi#it's just that the way i'm attracted to people & have little interest in sex itself is additionally some type of asexual experience lol#i'll probably delete this later unless i forgor i don't really give a shit though lmao
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haggishlyhagging · 4 months ago
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In 1847 the stereotypes for male and female writers were very rigid. Critics expected from a male writer strength, passion, and intellect, and from a woman writer they expected tact, refinement, and piety. They depended on these stereotypes so much, in fact, that they really didn't know how to proceed, what to say, or what to look for in a book if they were unsure of the author's sex.
So Jane Eyre created a tremendous sensation, and it was a problem for the Brontës. The name Currer Bell could be that of either a man or a woman and the narrator of Jane Eyre is Jane herself. The book is told as an autobiography. These things suggested that the author might have been a woman. On the other hand, the novel was considered to be excellent, strong, intelligent and, most of all, passionate. And therefore, the critics reasoned, it could not be written by a woman, and if it turned out that it was written by a woman, she had to be unnatural and perverted.
The reason for this is that the Victorians believed that decent women had no sexual feelings whatsoever—that they had sexual anesthesia. Therefore, when Jane says about Rochester that his touch "made her veins run fire, and her heart beat faster than she could count its throbs," the critics assumed this was a man writing about his sexual fantasies. If a woman was the author, then presumably she was writing from her own experience, and that was disgusting. In this case we can clearly see how women were not permitted the authority of their own experience if it happened to contradict the cultural stereotype.
But even more shocking than this to the Victorians was Jane's reply to Rochester, a very famous passage in the novel. He has told her he is going to marry another woman, an heiress, but that she can stay on as a servant. Jane answers him thus:
"I tell you I must go," I retorted, roused to something like passion. "Do you think I can stay to become nothing to you? Do you think I am an automaton, a machine without feeling and can bear to have my morsel of bread snatched from my lips and my drop of living water dashed from my cup? Do you think because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, I'm soulless and heartless? You think wrong. I have as much soul as you and full as much heart. And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should've made it as hard for you to leave me as it is now for me to leave you. I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionality, nor even of mortal flesh. It is my spirit that addresses your spirit, just as if both had passed through the grave and we stood at God's feet equal—as we are."
This splendid assertion violated not only the standards of sexual submission, which were believed to be women's duty and their punishment for Eve's crime, but it also went against standards of class submission, and obviously against religion. And this sort of rebellion was not feminine at all.
The reviews of Jane Eyre in 1847 and 1848 show how confused the critics were. Some of them said Currer Bell was a man. Some of them, including Thackeray, said a woman. One man, an American critic named Edgar Percy Whipple, said the Bells were a team, that Currer Bell was a woman who did the dainty parts of the book and brother Acton the rough parts. All kinds of circumstantial evidence were adduced to solve this problem, such as the details of housekeeping. Harriet Martineau said the book had to be the work of a woman or an upholsterer. And Lady Eastlake, who was a reviewer for one of the most prestigious journals, said it couldn't be a woman because no woman would dress her heroines in such outlandish clothes.
Eventually Charlotte Brontë revealed her identity, and then these attacks which had been general became personal. People introduced her as the author of a naughty book; they gossiped that she was Thackeray's mistress. They speculated on the causes of what they called "her alien and sour perspective on women." She felt during her entire short life that she was judged always on the basis of what was becoming in femininity and not as an artist.
-Elaine Showalter, ‘Women Writers and the Female Experience’ in Radical Feminism, Koedt et al (eds.)
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s-brant · 6 months ago
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Three’s Company
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When Patrick visits his best friend at Stanford University, Art’s new fling finds herself stuck between two very attractive men.
9k (18+)
Warnings: smut, threesome, unprotected p in v, double penetration, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, they’re all pervs, and strong language.
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The room is stiflingly hot.
There is no air conditioning in her study/fuck buddy's dorm to keep up with the late April heat that has descended upon Stanford's campus so quickly. Three different fans are plugged into outlets around the cramped living space, yet it does little to keep her body cool enough to feel comfortable.
Sleeping with Art was an impulsive decision. The first time was merely weeks ago after he politely asked if she would share her notes from a class he was absent from. They exchanged numbers to organize the meeting, and she ended up talking to him for the better part of an hour in the dining hall. Although she did not recognize it as flirting—the oblivious little thing she is—he shyly commented on seeing her at one of her gymnastics competitions and refused to let her get dinner with her meal credits. Looking back, his intentions should have been obvious to her, yet she does not think badly of him over it. If anything, she likes how wanted he made her feel. He knew what he wanted and ensured that he got it.
They came back to his room to study—only to study, he claimed with his hands held up to proclaim his innocence—for their approaching final exams.
"Good," she said with a teasing lilt to her voice, slinging her bag onto her shoulder and turning to walk in the direction of his dorm building. "Cause it's way too hot to be doing anything else."
They were both laughing as he set down his racquet bag to unlock the door. It was muffled through the wall, but Patrick heard it just fine from where he was perched on the foot of Art's bed with Tears for Fears playing on the unlabeled CD he dug through desk drawers to find. The sound of a distinctly feminine giggle made his mouth turn up at the corners in a smirk. This will be fun to tease his closest friend over until his cheeks flush pink and he has to hide his face in his shirt.
When the door swung open, the laughter died out as soon as they realized they weren't alone, but it was quickly replaced with wide smiles and warm greetings.
Patrick tried not to look her up and down so blatantly. Instead, he chuckled and said, "Art, you conveniently left out that you had a girlfriend on our last call."
To this, Art set down his bag and tackled him onto the bed, starting a minute-long wrestling match that only ended when they began to sweat from the heat and physical activity. It was then that Art remembered to have manners and introduced her. He scrambled to sit upright on the mattress and met her curious gaze.
"Y/N, this is Patrick. I'm sorry, I forgot what day he was coming."
She smiled.
"It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you." A pause, and then she turned her attention to Art. "Do you wanna study another time? I don't wanna intrude or anything."
Before Art could open his mouth to tell her to stay, Patrick aimed one of his charming grins at her, then said, "No, please intrude. I'll just hang out. You won't even know I'm here."
The last sentence caused a disbelieving scoff to leave Art’s lips.
As of right now, as she sits on the chair in front of the desk and the boys share the bed, they have gotten halfway through the study guide they meticulously constructed after one of the two classes they share, but it grew boring once an hour and a half passed. They typically end up getting distracted and make out by now, but with Patrick here, neither of them considers that an option. So, she suggests they take a half-hour break to sit, drink, and talk to allow their brains to decompress from the constant stimulation.
He already had a few beers inside the mini fridge beneath his desk, along with a hard seltzer for her seeing that she finds the taste of beer disgusting but quite enjoys being drunk with him. Also kept in the freezer section of the fridge is a pack of ice pops she bought a few days ago when the heat wave began. They prove to be very useful right now as the midday sun bakes the building alive despite the closed curtains and blowing fans.
The CD has moved onto Nine Inch Nails, and she remains quiet to hear it over the sound of the fans as she holds a red ice pop to the side of her neck to cool herself off. Sometime along the way, both of them had stripped down to their underwear after asking her if it was alright because it was so hot. Patrick joked that he was alright with her taking her clothes off too, which she laughed at while Art playfully shoved him over it. Yet now she isn't laughing. Her small exercise shorts are as forgiving as any item of clothing could be in these circumstances, but the long-sleeve shirt she wore because it was the only clean one left is sticking to her skin.
"So, how did you and Art meet?"
Her eyes open to find Patrick glancing back and forth between them.
"It's a boring story, actually," she says. "He asked if I took notes for a class he missed, and now he's stuck with me all the time."
"No, no, okay, maybe it was boring from her perspective, but I was trying to work up the nerve to talk to her for at least a week before then. I went to one of her competitions and recognized her from class," Art explains. "She won, which wasn't surprising at all."
Although she already knew this, this is the first time he has admitted to it out loud, and her stomach flutters at the idea of him becoming so enamored with her from one glance. The popsicle is sweet on her tastebuds when she raises it to her lips and sucks with her eyes looking between them both. As she expected, Patrick shifts a little in place and looks away for reasons not at all related to how she was looking at them while sucking her popsicle.
She chuckles.
"So, you were just interested in befriending me 'cause I win a lot?"
Her tone of voice is taunting, but they know it's all in good fun. Art is quick to play along, shrugging his shoulders to feign aloofness and taking a quick swig of his beer before responding. Their eye contact grows intense in the seconds before he speaks.
"Well, there were some other contributing factors."
"Mm," Patrick hums in agreement. "I've never seen you compete, but you are really hot, so Art's right about that."
This makes her pause for a second, her gaze shifting to find Art's to see if his friend crossed any lines, but he appears strangely calm about it. What she doesn't know is that he has never had any problem sharing, at least, not with Patrick. They shared a room in boarding school, jerked off together to the same girl, and shared the court together—what was his would always be Patrick's, and what was Patrick's would always be his.
"You're flirting with me right in front of him?"
Art interjects, "I'd be shocked if he didn't."
As soon as the words leave his mouth, he's standing up from the bed to get another beer. The dorm room is small, so it only takes a few strides for him to meet her where she sits before the desk and kneels down to open the mini fridge. His left hand braces itself on one of her thighs while the right swings open the fridge door only to find there is no beer left. Rather than complain, he simply grabs one of her least favorite hard seltzer flavors and gives her thigh a firm squeeze before standing up.
The bed creaks beneath his weight when he sits back down on it.
He settles into a comfortable position with his back against the wall and legs spread, balancing the seltzer can on his bent knee. Patrick sits close to him, and she finds it difficult to peel her eyes off the pair of them in their current state of undress. Her gaze mostly lingers on Patrick seeing that she has already explored every inch of Art's lean body in the plentiful amount of times they've hooked up over the past few weeks. But, that being said, she cannot resist looking at Art either. Having two beautiful men laid out before her in their underwear is a treat she never expected to indulge in today. They each have the strong, masculine figures of athletes—showing mostly in their shoulders, biceps, abdomen, and thighs.
When Patrick notices her staring, she turns her gaze to the floor to avoid the embarrassment of being caught. If he did catch her, though, he doesn't call her out for it. Not yet, at least.
With one last bite of her popsicle, she stands from the desk chair to toss it into the small trash can beside his nightstand. It isn't until she lets it go that she realizes how close she now stands to the two of them. Only a foot or so from the bed, her heart begins to hammer in her chest at the proximity.
The way she sees it, she has two options. The first would be to retreat to the desk to let her long-sleeved shirt give her heatstroke while the men get to sit in front of the oscillating fans with their shirts off, or she can strip down to her undergarments and join them on the bed. Needless to say, she opts for the latter of the two.
Y/N lets out an exaggerated groan at the heat and fans herself with her hands for the sake of appearing somewhat innocent in what she's about to do, then reaches down for the hem of her shirt with a huff.
Art and Patrick can do nothing but watch with rapt attention side by side as she pulls the fabric up her torso and over her head. The shirt ends up falling to the floor beside her feet alongside their discarded t-shirts and pants. This leaves her in her most comfortable bra—which is Art's favorite since her nipples can be seen through the mesh material—and a pair of tiny spandex shorts.
Patrick's tongue darts out to wet his lips at the sight of her—almost angelic in her beauty—and tries to burn the image into his mind to hold onto forever. Definitely going in the spank bank, he thinks to himself as his cock begins to harden in his boxers. Beside him, Art has been stunned to silence. Even though they've fucked like rabbits since the first time, he isn't sure if he'll ever get used to seeing her like this. Those shorts hug the delicate curve of her hips, as well as that lovely ass that has been sculpted from years of training as a gymnast, and all he can think of is how badly he wants to take them off.
They sit there, dumbfounded, with their mouths hanging open just enough for her to notice and suppress an arrogant smirk. But to allow herself to smirk would be to reveal her cards, and she doesn't want them to see this as anything other than her innocently trying to cool down. Truth be told, she hasn't thought this through. It's not as though she planned this as she was sitting at the desk. It's more of an impulsive, irresistible urge. And if they will tease her so blatantly with their half-naked bodies, she is entitled to do the same.
"You," she says, jutting her chin in Patrick's direction. "Scoot. I wanna sit in front of the fans too."
Underneath it all, she's thankful that she took the time to do her hair the way that makes her feel the most confident and put a little makeup on. Not that either of them is focused on her damned makeup. No, they're far too busy ogling her figure to notice anything north of her collarbones.
After a delayed second of staring, what she said seems to register within him and spark him into action. He's quick to scoot closer to the end of the bed if it means she'll be inhabiting the small space between them. 
She offers a quiet, "Thank you," and crawls onto the bed, turning around and settling into place with her back against the wall. The cool air generated by the fans blows faintly against the front of her sweat-slick chest, and she can't help but shut her eyes and hum in appreciation of it.
With her eyes shut, Art and Patrick are both scrambling to quietly conceal their growing erections. If they don't, it'll be glaringly obvious when she opens her eyes and sees a tent in their underwear on either side of her. Although the life-long friends don't speak, there's an understanding formed between the two of them. Whatever she allows them to have of her tonight, if she allows anything, they'll share nicely. Patrick knows that if anything happens, he is to assume it is a one-time thing unless she or Art expresses a desire for an arrangement of some sort to be made.
Her eyes open again a few seconds later to find them staring at her.
Breaking the silence, she asks, turning her head left to right to address each of them, "Did your mothers never tell you it's rude to stare?"
Patrick doesn't miss a beat.
"Did you know it's rude to be a tease?"
The sound of Art sucking in a deep breath meets her ears, but she doesn't look away from Patrick. Their eyes are locked, and she can see the mischief present in his. It's almost as if he dares her to do something...like he knows that she wants him just as badly as he wants her. Part of her feels guilty, feeling like she should remain loyal to Art even though they aren't exclusive, but a much more dominant part of her desires it too much to resist the temptation.
"Patrick, don't pressure her. If she doesn't want to—"
Her head turning to look at him halts him in his tracks. The look she's giving him...
Much to his shock, she was a virgin when they met a few weeks ago. He questioned her relentlessly, claiming there was no way someone as beautiful, smart, and talented as her could've gone so long without doing it, but she held firm. It was the truth, he realized after she sheepishly relayed the story of how she made out with a basketball player on Halloween and wimped out before it could go further. That first night, she was a bashful, blushing little thing. He treated her with the tenderness and reverence she deserved, first making her come with his tongue and fingers before fucking her. It was so...intimate. Her nails dug into his shoulders when he made that first, breathtaking thrust into her. Just the thought of it was enough to get him hard the next day, but he knew not to expect anything after how shy she was the previous night. Little did he know, he awakened something within her, and from then on, she would be insatiable.
He almost got whiplash from how quickly she changed from a nervous, flushed-faced girl asking him, "Am I doing this right?" when she got on top to a cock-hungry temptress ready to jump onto him at any moment. Truth be told, he found it so fucking hot. To think that he was the catalyst for this behavior was beyond comprehension. Though Art did well enough in his dating life, Patrick was the one that the girls they liked gravitated toward when they were in school together. But she was his, and he thinks, even now, that he'll always have the satisfaction of having gotten to her first no matter what happens tonight.
Y/N shifts around on the mattress so that she's sitting on the side of the bed opposite the wall, facing them with her hands on her knees and legs tucked beneath her ass. Both boys perk up a little at this, and they watch every minute movement she makes and listen to every breath she breathes with unwavering focus.
She meets Art's gaze first before doing anything. Her brows raise in question, and, in answer, he gives her a slight nod. Those pretty, cherry-stained lips of hers curve into a smirk she doesn't even bother to hide in response to this.
"Have you ever fucked the same girl before?" she asks out of pure curiosity, her tone calm and even. Her hands leave her knees to grab one of their thighs each, slowly rubbing up and down to allow her fingertips to brush the edge of their boxers. "Two guys at the same time is a first for me..."
To say that they are in a state of shock would be a gross understatement. Surprisingly, their mouths are not hanging open, and they aren't drooling at the mere thought of what she's proposing.
Somehow, Patrick finds his voice and says, "No." A second of pause, then—"Is this for real? Like you're not just fucking with us?"
The silence that follows is ripe with tension. All that can be heard is the sound of voices passing in the hallway outside of the dorm room and fans blowing on their highest setting. The hands on their thighs come to a halt at the edge of their boxers, and the softened expression on her face shifts into one of unabashed lust as she looks at Patrick.
In answer to his question, she starts to crawl over to him. Seeing that the mattress is a twin, it doesn't take too long for her to reach him and settle into place on top of him. Her hands slide up to cup his face, forcing him to only look at her when she lowers herself onto his lap. The spandex shorts hugging every inch of her figure do little to keep him from feeling the warmth of her cunt against the bulge that formed the second she took her top off.
That first brush of her lips against his is gentle, as though she has him under a trance, but it doesn't take longer than a few seconds for him to snap out of it. Patrick's hands grasp her hips first to keep her from moving away, then they slide down to knead the soft, supple flesh of her ass as he begins to kiss her back hungrily. The kiss quickly begins to descend from her lips to her jaw until he reaches the soft skin of her neck.
While he nips and sucks at the sensitive spot along the side of her neck, Y/N opens her eyes to find Art staring, unblinking, at the pornographic display before him. The sight of him alone—between his messy blonde hair, piercing eyes, and masterfully structured face—is enough to pull a breathy moan from the back of her throat. One would think that she would get used to the way he makes her feel when he looks at her like that, but she never does.
One of the arms wrapped around Patrick's neck uncurls itself to reach for Art, fingers wiggling to beckon him to her. 
He's already invading her space by the time she whispers, "C'mere, baby."
Art practically melts into the two writhing bodies he kneels beside at the casual use of a pet name from her. The word echoes in the farthest reaches of his brain until it is all he can hear on a loop. Even as she grips the back of his neck and pulls him until their mouths collide, his cock twitches from the memory of her calling him baby.
Patrick continues to suck, lick, nip, and kiss his way down her neck as she slips her tongue into Art's mouth with a groan. He leaves marks behind everywhere he goes with the thought of his friend finding them on her for the next week and a half in mind. It only makes it more thrilling for him to imagine the strange mixture of frustration and arousal that will arise within Art when he rediscovers them the next time they hook up.
Slowly, she is guided onto her back by his mouth slipping down to take one of her nipples into it and his callused hands peeling her shorts, along with her soaked cotton thong, down over the swell of her ass. The freshly washed sheets are soft against her bare back as she lays back and watches Patrick worship her breasts with both his mouth and hands. In the midst of their repositioning, Art took it upon himself to squeeze into the cramped space next to Patrick, slotting himself between him and the wall the bed is pressed against. Without a word of warning, he dips his face down to kiss the breast Patrick is cupping in his hand.
She feels hands everywhere, unsure of which belongs to who. Hands grapple for purchase on her hips, her waist, her breasts, her thighs, and her ass—always moving in search of new territory to claim. Although they have no way of coordinating their actions, they seem to move in sync with one another. The second Art's mouth lowers to kiss down her stomach, which flinches inward at the feeling, Patrick follows. If she weren't so overwhelmed with everything right now, she'd likely laugh at how eager they are to race each other down the length of her body.
Their heads bump every few seconds by the time they reach her parted thighs, but they are too focused on getting a taste of her to care at first. They work with the same synchronized harmony they once had as doubles partners, Art tugging her left leg over his shoulder while Patrick shoves her right up and out until her thigh is flush with her chest. She can't help but silently thank her parents for enrolling her in gymnastics lessons years ago. If they hadn't, this would be a tad uncomfortable.
Finally, Patrick tries to shove Art to the side a little, complaining, "Come on, man, you're with her all the time."
To her surprise, it works for the first moment or so. Art places hot, open-mouthed kisses on her inner thigh as Patrick's tongue makes a broad stroke through her, but it isn't long before he grows dissatisfied with his current role in this impromptu threesome and decides to fight back. He doesn't shove or push like Patrick had, instead, he gently nudges his head against Patrick's until they can share her.
Having Art go down on her alone always feels pleasurable, but having both of their mouths on her at the same time is another sensation entirely. It's indescribable. Spit drools from their lips as they kiss her sodden cunt, taking turns flicking the tips of their tongues against her clit for the sake of hearing her moan over and over. From where she looks down at them, they're nearly kissing each other as they eat her out, and she has to tip her head back onto her shoulders to keep them from seeing her smirk.
When she looks back down, she makes a breathy, gasping sound at the sight of them. Patrick is looking up at her with an intensity no man has ever had when looking at her, not even Art, and there is no ignoring the feeling it stirs in the pit of her abdomen.
"Fuck," she whines and pushes herself harder against their faces, but it's never enough. "More—I need more. Please."
Neither one hesitates. In fact, they seem to form a plan without speaking it aloud. As Art's free hand raises from where it palmed his cock through his boxers, Patrick's lips close around her sensitive, puffy clit and start to suck. The tips of Art's middle and ring fingers brush tentatively against her hole, then, teasingly slow, push inside until they're buried knuckle deep.
The contrast of the men as lovers—Patrick being unforgiving and passionate, Art being tender and desperate—threatens to dizzy her. But Art cannot control himself for too long. He often starts slow and gentle, his eyes flooded with genuine affection for whoever is pinned under his body, then loses his composure the farther things go. By the time he's inside of her, he's almost brutal in how hard he fucks her, and it isn't out of malice, it's out of animalistic lust.
So, as per usual, the pace Art sets to begin with shifts into something harder and faster.
Over the sounds of the fans and music playing on the CD player across the room, a symphony of panting breaths, whines, and wet noises can be heard. It wouldn't surprise any of them if the people who were talking in the hallway could hear it, but it's not like they care right now. 
When she closes her eyes and tries to fall back against the mattress, Patrick stops for a second to murmur, "Don't look away," before getting back to work. Something about the way his voice sounds forces her to submit to his demand without hesitation. There's an edge to it. An underlying promise that he will stop and leave her here to suffer if she doesn't listen, so she does. She watches with a slack-jawed expression at how they work diligently to get her off.
The combined sensations of the fingers pumping into her at a steady, rushed pace and the lips enclosed around her sensitive bud push her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. Art slips a third finger in and licks between her sticky folds as Patrick sucks her clit relentlessly. Everything they do is motivated by a dire need to take as much of her as they can, as though they can't quite believe what's happening and want to savor it before they wake from the dream. Seeing their desperation only fuels the fire roaring to life inside of her.
They feast on her the way starving men would if presented with food—humming and groaning in satisfaction at the taste of her on their tongues. Through the haze she's fallen under as a result of the present situation, her gaze lifts from where both of their faces are smushed together between her parted thighs to find that they're both humping the mattress. It seems like they don't even realize they're doing it, which, of course, only makes it hotter for her. To think that she wields enough power over them, that she renders them so useless and needy...
Her brows pinch together at the feeling of Art's fingertips finding the sweet spot inside of her.
"Right there," she breathes out in a shaky voice, hand shooting down to grasp anything she can find for support.
It ends up being Patrick's dark hair that is weaved between her fingers and used as her lifeline, tugging nearly every time Art's fingertips find the spot inside of her that makes her throw her head back on the bed and cry out for them. If they didn't have her pinned down, her hips would be lifting to meet every thrust, but she cannot do anything other than take it. Every breath she takes turns rapid, her chest rising and falling dramatically, as the familiar feeling of her impending release grows nearer by the second.
She says, half warning and half pleading with them, "I'm"—The sentence is cut off before it can be said by a high-pitched moan that makes Patrick moan and Art whimper into her—"Please"—What she's pleading for, none of them know, herself included, but she continues to babble nonsensically anyway—"Ah!"
The hand that isn't pulling on Patrick's hair reaches down instinctively for the hand Art grips her thigh with, and she doesn't even need to ask him for it. He entwines their fingers and allows her to squeeze his hand until circulation is lost as she finally feels the wave that was building within her begin to crest.
It hits her harder than she ever knew it could. 
Everything explodes into a sensation of bliss so strong, she loses herself in it. The only thing tying her body down to the earth is the feeling of the hands on her—touching her, fingering her, caressing her, and holding her hand—yet even that is not enough to keep her from floating away into another world entirely for the first few seconds of her orgasm. The muscles in her legs, so exhausted from being forced into a position like this, shake violently with every wave of pleasure rushing through her, and her walls clamp down around the fingers thrusting into her.
If she could live forever in these fifteen seconds, she would, but it soon becomes obvious to her that there's no chance of that happening. Gradually, the intense sensation starts to recede like the tides, and they are both there to help her ride it out to the very end. But once it fully fades, she wriggles beneath them in sensitivity.
Using the hand wrapped up in his hair, Y/N pulls Patrick's mouth away from her clit with a strength he didn't know to expect despite her obvious athletic background, and when Art notices this, he too slows the rhythmic pumping of his fingers inside of her throbbing heat to a stop. Wary of hurting her, he waits another five seconds before slowly pulling them out.
She has gone boneless where she lays on her back with her eyes shut and chest heaving for air.
Knowing she cannot see them, Patrick cuts his best friend a look and jerks his chin in her direction in a silent urging to check on her. Both men start to move at the same time, crawling over her until they reach her face. While Patrick lies beside her and trails his hand up and down her naked, sweat-soaked torso to occupy himself in the time it takes her to recover, Art licks her arousal from his fingers before grabbing her by the chin.
He asks with a teasing inflection, "You still with us?"
Her eyes slowly open to find them both staring at her, and she cannot help the slight smile that comes to her face at this.
"You guys almost killed me," she murmurs. "I think my vision got spotty for a second there."
They allow her another moment to catch her breath and recuperate in the aftermath of what she endured. She takes turns looking at them as she pants for air, laying with her arms above her head and thighs squeezed together due to her current state of sensitivity.
Patrick is the first to break the silence.
"We're not done with you," he says softly, the hand on her chest climbing up until it cradles the side of her neck. "But you know that, don't you?"
"I'd be a little bummed if you were," she replies.
Her head is whipping around at the sound of Art's voice.
"Only a little?"
She pushes herself up from where she's lying supine on the bed, which is now a mess of tangled sheets and sweat, to smack him on the arm. It's all in good fun, of course, and Art is hardly hurt by the playful blow she landed on him. Giggles escape her mouth as they begin to play fight, swatting and trying to pin one another down with Patrick there to spectate. He encourages Y/N to fight dirty, telling her where to strike, which causes Art to curse under his breath and declare him a traitor.
It ultimately ends with her on top, her legs straddling his hips and hands pinning his wrists to the bed. Based on the faraway, longing gleam in his eyes as he looks up at her, Patrick can tell immediately that she only won because Art allowed her to. Because there is something about being pinned to the bed underneath her that turns him on. And she knows it. It's easy to tell by how his erection presses up against her naked center through the fabric of his boxers.
Suddenly, she comes up onto her knees and moves back until she's hovering over his thighs. Her next words are a soft-spoked explanation for why she's reaching for the waistband of his boxers.
"Too much clothes."
But, to her surprise, another pair of hands comes to her aid in shimmying Art's underwear down his hips and legs. The way Patrick sees it, the sooner he helps her get them off, the sooner she'll take his off. And he isn't wrong. As soon as they get the boxers free from Art's body, the garment is tossed to the side without a care in the world. Neither of them looks to see where they landed, they're far too busy leaning in to kiss each other than keep track of their discarded clothing.
Her left hand is wrapped around Art's cock, pumping at a torturously slow pace, as she pulls away from Patrick with a string of saliva connecting their lips.
"Take those off," she says with a pointed look at his crotch.
To say he is sent scrambling to take off his underwear at her command would be an understatement. If this scenario itself wasn't hot enough to make her cunt throb with a desperate need to be fucked, she'd be giggling at his eagerness. But it's hard to find anything funny when she's faced with Patrick standing, one foot on the floor and his other leg braced against the bed at the knee, with nothing to conceal him from her anymore.
It must inflate his ego to heights it has never reached before to see her tongue dart out to wet her lips at the sight of him. The hand stroking Art falters as she admires Patrick's cock. It's about an inch longer than Art's yet equal in girth, curving up a little toward his hair-speckled, defined abdomen. A drop of precome has dripped from his tip, and she has to dip her head forward to get a quick taste. Those pretty lips wrap around him, not pushing down to take the rest of his shaft into her mouth but remaining where she is, flicking her tongue against the slit where the drops of sticky, pearlescent fluid secrete.
A taste is all she allows herself, though.
Her lips pull off of him with a soft popping sound, and she makes sure to maintain eye contact with him as she licks a drop of pre-come off of her top lip.
She turns to look at Art, then Patrick, then back at Art, asking, "How do you want me?"
Seeing that she was a virgin before she started seeing Art, she figures she isn't qualified to direct this in a way that'll be comfortable for everyone involved. No, if she had to bet, Patrick has the most experience between the three of them—with Art following closely behind—and he will have no problem taking control from here based on how he has acted thus far.
To their surprise, it's Art who answers first. 
Patrick was still in a faraway daze from having her mouth around his cock only to be kicked when he was down by the question she asked. How do you want me? God, it's like she's trying to kill them.
"On my lap."
Art pushes himself up from the mattress and repositions so he sits on his knees in front of them, reaching for her hips to pull her closer without a second of hesitation. Her arms instantly reach for his shoulders to steady herself as she maneuvers into the exact position he had in mind. Buried beneath the music that has become white noise to them and the fans running on their highest setting, he thinks he hears her breath hitch in her throat once she's straddling his lap, the tip of his cock nudging against her clit.
Absentmindedly, she starts to grind against him, coating him in the slick arousal that seeps from her, but it's slow. A tease compared to what's coming next.
"Patrick," he says, his voice unwavering despite the excitement that makes his stomach churn. His hand slides down from her neck, caressing her breast as it passes by at a lazy speed, until he takes hold of himself and pumps a few times—as if he isn't hard as a fucking rock already. Over her shoulder, he meets his friend's intense stare. "If you wanna fuck her, you should probably get on the bed."
And while he would usually fire back something equally witty or taunting, Patrick cannot manage to do anything but nod. There's something about seeing Art this way that subdues him. He would like to think that the sole reason he's standing naked in front of his best friend is because there's a girl involved, but that isn't true. Not completely. Although Art would never admit to himself that he feels the same way, there's something familiar about this. Comfortable. Right.
The mattress dips with Patrick's shifting weight, squeaking a little beneath his knees until he settles into place behind her. His chest presses against her back, and his hand reaches up to grab her jaw, guiding her head to tilt so he can kiss her neck while Art lines himself up with her. She feels Patrick's cock pressing against her ass as the broad tip of Art's sinks inside of her.
Having Patrick's face buried in her neck, her shoulder, and back to her neck again provided her and Art a rare second of private intimacy. Her eyes, glazed over with lust, lock into his and refuse to look away. The intensity present in his gaze does not frighten her. If anything, it sends a rush of adrenaline through her body, and she takes a second to admire his soft, wide eyes. She's never mentioned it aloud before, but she has always been fascinated with making eye contact with him due to his right eye. Half of the iris is a striking, clear shade of blue while the other is a warm brown hue.
"Fuck," he says under his breath at the feeling of her squeezing down around him, her tight cunt resisting a little until she relaxes and sinks down until there's nothing left to take.
There's nothing that compares to the feeling of the first thrust he makes.
Every time, it makes her bite her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. To feel him so deep is almost undoing in itself. Then she feels another hand slide between her legs, and her mind goes utterly blank. Everything outside of this room falls away the second Patrick starts to rub her clit in gentle, languid circles to help her adjust to the stretch of Art inside of her. Patrick's lips lavish every accessible inch of her bare skin with kisses as his friend, with a hand on each of her hips, starts to lift her up and down at an unhurried pace.
Their noses and lips brush without completely touching. When she pushes her face closer to Art's, hoping to lock lips with him, he pulls away for the sake of seeing her grow hot in the face from embarrassment. The mouth worshipping the back of her neck curves up into a smirk in reaction to the games Art plays with her. Who knew he's just as fun in bed as he is out of it? Certainly not Patrick.
She mutters, voice breathy and weak, "Feels so good..."
"Yeah?" Patrick murmurs into her skin and presses his fingers hard against her clit. "Tell me how he feels."
If he could see her the way Art can right now, he'd have to suppress a chuckle at how her brows pinch together at the command. Regardless of her sudden shyness, the words he says only make her ride Art harder. Over her shoulder, Patrick searches for those pale blue eyes only to find them staring through him already. Every smooth rocking motion of her hips pushes her ass against his neglected erection, providing him with a brushing touch before pivoting away again.
"He feels"—she says, chest rising and falling faster—"He's so hard." Her sentences are hardly coherent. "Perfect—mmm—fucking me so deep." One of her hands reaches to tug his down to press it against the southernmost part of her abdomen. "Feel."
With her palm molded over the back of his hand and forcing him to push down on her belly, Patrick can hardly keep from groaning at the subtle bulge of Art's cock moving in and out of her. It's strangely intimate for the three of them to share this experience, but for him to feel every thrust through her is more than he anticipated.
Unable to fight what instinct drives him to, Patrick shifts his hips until the angle of her grinding against him allows his tip to brush up against the hole she and Art have yet to touch. He doesn't do anything more, not without her asking for it, but it's clear to both Art and Y/N that he desperately wants to. All of this physical affection shared between the two of them has made Patrick needy and jealous, so she decides to grant him mercy.
She reaches behind herself blindly to guide him elsewhere, nudging him against the hole Art is already filling. It takes them a couple of seconds to understand what she means in doing this, but, once it clicks, they start to go a little crazy. For the moment, she has stopped bouncing on Art's cock for the sake of allowing Patrick to push in beside him, and he has to surge forward to kiss her. If he doesn't distract himself with a kiss, he'll be too tempted to move.
As Art kisses her deeply, his tongue invading her mouth and caressing her own, Patrick's hand wraps around her throat for leverage with his teeth nipping at her earlobe. His hand wraps around where hers grips his cock to guide it to her entrance, and with his help, they manage to squeeze the tip in.
Her jaw drops at the overwhelming sensation, and the sloppy kiss is interrupted when her head rolls back onto Patrick's shoulder. Art doesn't seem to care, though. Now that her head is tipped back, her neck is exposed for him to mark, and he takes advantage of the opportunity as soon as it presents itself. His lips brush against Patrick's fingers a few times as he kisses her fervently, sucking hard on the delicate skin that has already been bruised by his dear friend.
"You're beautiful," Art whispers into her neck between kisses. "So, so beautiful."
Taking it slow for her sake, Patrick has to force himself into her inch by inch, stretching her little cunt to take far more than she's accustomed to. But, as hard as it is, it works. After another few moments of him pushing in and pausing to let her adjust, he finally bottoms out with his cock flush against Art's. Her walls clamp down around them tightly. They both share a nervous look at this, wondering if they'll manage to last longer than thirty seconds if it already feels this good.
Slowly, she raises her head from where it slumped against Patrick's shoulder and meets Art's intense stare with one of her own. His hand raises to cup the side of her face, his fingers grazing against Patrick's, and he brushes his thumb over her kiss-swollen bottom lip. Every breath taken between the three of them is labored.
Pulling her lip down with his thumb, he asks, "Feeling okay?"
A half-second later, Patrick chimes in.
"If it's too much, you have to tell us."
Not a question, not a request, but a demand. The way he said it left no room for debate, so she nods in compliance and responds with an eagerness that neither man can miss, "M'fine, please, just fuck me..."
Patrick does not need to be told twice.
Having been sidelined for too long and forced to watch them fuck without him, he pulls out slowly, then cants his hips back against her ass with a force that takes her breath away. Amidst this, Art cannot do anything but let his face fall forward into her chest and whine in ecstasy. Just the movement of Patrick's cock rubbing against his with every thrust renders him useless. He knew it would feel better than any sex he'd had before, but this...He'll likely spend the rest of his life chasing the hedonism they are experiencing tonight.
One of her arms reaches behind her to grab Patrick's hip and dig her nails in hard while the other closes around Art's neck to pull both of them as close as can be. And now that he has forced himself back from the edge of a premature release, Art begins to move too, searching for a rhythm that feels right. Soon enough, he manages to find it. Both of their heads lift to look at each other, faces inches apart with their chins pressing on her shoulder, and they work with the same synchronicity they had while eating her out not even fifteen minutes ago.
She turns her head to the side to watch their stare-down as they rut into her like feral animals—utterly insatiable and overcome by their baser instincts. And it's only now that it occurs to her that, underneath it all, they want each other as desperately and pathetically as they want her. Patrick's gaze relentlessly bounces back and forth between Art's eyes and lips, and it makes her smirk to herself. The pleasure of fucking her as one, their pulsing cocks rubbing together in the warm walls of her cunt, has lowered their inhibitions, and the idea of being intimate with one another isn't as daunting as it would be if they were fully aware.
Leaning in to brush her cherry-flavored lips against Art's ear, she whispers, "I want you to kiss him."
The arm looped around the back of his neck pulls tighter in encouragement, bringing his body so close to hers that she can feel his ribs expanding with every breath. His only reaction to her request is a quick glance at her face once she pulls away from his ear with a sensuous lick as a parting gift. It's almost as though he doesn't believe what she's saying, but the reassuring expression she wears tells him that it is real. She truly wants him to see him kiss his best friend, not only for their enjoyment but hers as well.
One second, he's looking at her, and the next, he's slotting his lips against Patrick's with a passion previously only reserved for her. Their hands both grapple for purchase on her sweat-slick body, Art aggressively kneading her breasts and Patrick squeezing her hips for dear life, as they moan into each other's mouths.
As they kiss each other hungrily, Y/N has nothing left to do but bask in the tension swelling inside of her. There's something about how wrong this situation feels to her that makes it so much more arousing. Girls are always raised with the idea that promiscuity lessens their value, and she was not an exception. Having been raised in a family of devout believers, she hadn't kissed a boy until she was seventeen years old. The next person she kissed was Art, and in the time since their first kiss, he has thoroughly corrupted her.
And even as distracted as he is by the all-consuming, wet kiss he's engaged in, Art feels her cunt start to squeeze around their cocks and immediately drops one of the hands on her breasts between her splayed thighs. His finger rubs in tight circles on her clit in hopes that she will reach her end before he and Patrick come pathetically soon.
Her body jerks where it's trapped between them when his fingers make contact, pulling their focus away from each other for the first time since their lips touched. Patrick reaches up to hold her neck in one hand and forces her face to the side so both of them can look at every subtle expression she makes. 
"Don't stop," she pleads, eyes glazed over. "M'so close, Art"—Every merciless thrust elicits a high-pitched whine from her—"Patrick, please!"
The body trapped between them has gone boneless and twitchy, utterly useless at holding herself up or aiding them in any way. But they wear it like a badge of honor. With her face falling forward into Art's neck, she loses her grasp on all that is around her and lets them prop her up to fuck her like a toy existing solely for their gratification.
With one hand cradling the back of her head and the other between her thighs, still dutifully rubbing her clit, Art asks under his breath, "Isn't she fucking perfect?"
Although it was a question meant for Patrick, she can't help how she moans and clenches her walls around them when she hears it. Panting breaths from the three of them flood the sweltering dorm room, but they are too far gone to notice or care how much sweat drips off of their bodies onto one another. It's almost hard to get a firm grip on her as a result of it, but they manage to keep her in place by smushing their bodies as close as physically possible on both sides of her.
Patrick bucks his hips up into her with a recklessness that gives away how close he is to his climax.
He says, "Oh, God, yeah." The hand still collaring her delicate neck squeezes just enough to take her breath away for a second. However, once he released his hold on her, that hand moved to wrap itself up the roots of her hair. "Best pussy I've ever had. So fucking tight, it's like she wants us to come inside her." A pause, then, "Is that what you want?"
A second passes of silence from her, and he sharply tugs back on her hair until her face is no longer hidden in Art's neck. This allows them to drink in the sight of her—face twisted up in pleasure and mouth gaping open.
He asks again, "Is that what you want?"
Her response is immediate.
"Yes, yes, yes," she murmurs incoherently and takes quick turns to look between their faces. If the expressions they wear are any indication, it won't be long before her wish is fulfilled. "I'm—mmm-gonna come! I need you to fill me up, please, please!"
To this, Art rubs her clit faster while maintaining eye contact with her and finally lets go of whatever remaining scraps of self-control he has left. Knowing how close she is pushes them closer themselves, and they start to pound her hard. Hard enough that even they, as soon-to-be professional athletes, have difficulty sustaining this intense degree of exertion.
The arm that she looped around his shoulders is still there, but now her hand is sliding down from the back of Art's neck to explore the toned musculature of his upper back. Under her searching palm, she can feel his muscles contracting and relaxing beneath his pale skin.
To both her and Art's surprise, the world begins to shift in their peripheral vision until he falls flat against the mattress on his back with his length still sheathed inside of her. It takes a second for their brains to catch up with what happened and deem Patrick responsible for the position change. He laid his hands flat on her back and pushed with just the right amount of force to pin Art to the mattress beneath them.
Art says, breathless, "I can feel you squeezing us, baby, just let go."
Hearing those words sets fire to her blood, and that, paired with the toe-curling sensation of them pressing deep inside of her, hitting that spot over and over and over, is what tips her over the edge.
Patrick keeps pulling on her hair to force her head up so that they can feel and watch her come, and what a beautiful sight it is. Art, the lucky bastard, is face to face with her as she tenses up with the onslaught of her climax. But he can see the side of her pretty, flushed face and drink up every little sound she makes, so he doesn't feel left out in any way. No, he is experiencing this right beside Art. They're both trapped inside of her, pumping into her throbbing heat and letting themselves be swept away into oblivion by the feeling of her coming undone.
She digs her nails into Art's skin hard enough to hurt as she whines and writhes between them with each pulse of pleasure that runs through her, and it isn't until she's starting to come down, riding out the high, that she feels them spill into her at the same time. Every sensation attached to it prolongs her orgasm—the throbbing, the spreading warmth, and the dying undulations of their hips that grind their cocks together within her. And beyond the physicality of the act, just knowing that they're filling her to the brim with their come makes her head spin from how fucking hot she finds it.
It isn't long before their thrusts slow into a sensuous grinding as they come down from it together, then come to a full stop to keep from overstimulating themselves. They both are starting to go soft, panting and leaning against her limp body in exhaustion, and know they wouldn't be able to continue even if they wanted to.
Her head is laid on Art’s shoulder with Patrick’s nose nuzzling her neck. There's nothing they can do except remain still and try to recover from the euphoria that has rendered them useless, so that is precisely what they do. With their bodies nearly melting together from the heat, the three of them hold onto each other for support until they manage to return to full consciousness after what they went through.
It isn't until another couple of moments have elapsed that Patrick and Art start murmuring to one another while she remains slumped between them. A second later, both pairs of hands are squeezing her hips; lifting her off of their softening cocks, slowly, gently, and minding her sensitivity.
The three of them collapse side by side on the twin bed, bodies squeezed together like sardines, and she finally comes back down from the clouds her head floated into at the feeling of them touching her. It isn't sexual. No, they wouldn't dream of putting her through anything more than she could handle right now. Both touches are tender and featherlight—Art's hand molds over her breast simply to cup it as they cuddle while Patrick brings her hand up from her side to brush a kiss over her knuckles.
The silence continues to stretch on, then—
"We're definitely gonna have to do that again," she says, turning her head to look at each of them before laying her cheek against Art's shoulder. "That is, if don't mind sharing me."
His gaze softens, the hand cupping her breast ghosting up over her skin until it finds her and Patrick's entwined hands.
"I don't mind one bit."
-
Thank you for reading this! I probably won’t write any more Challengers fics but I saw the movie like five times in theaters and needed to crank this out to satisfy the part of me that is obsessed with the hotel scene. I would really appreciate a comment to let me know what you thought if you’re open to that 🫶🏻 The oral part of this fic was inspired by these two (1) (2) I read, so def give them a read cause they're great!
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paradiseprincesss · 5 months ago
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the boy is mine | jonathan crane
masterlist
yeah so i wrote this in literally record timing because the music video to the boy is mine is so jonathan crane and his girl coded. i'd like to think i'm keeping u guys fed with all my fics i hope u like !!!
summary: you’re set on doing anything to make that boy yours, and the plan you curated is absolutely purrrfect.
word count: 4.3k
warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, oral (f!receiving), bondage/tying up, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, stalking, obsessive behaviour, therapist/patient relationship at one point lol
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“perfect.” you whisper to yourself as you poured the last drop of the glittery, pink liquid into the small vile, swirling it around as you popped a cork into the top.
you smiled proudly as you sat on the kitchen floor of your apartment, holding up the vile to get a good look at it under the moonlight. it was fool proof — he’d for sure be yours after you forced him to drink this.
some would say you were a little unhinged, but you preferred the term creative. you were a little obsessed with your old therapist, doctor jonathan crane. you started seeing him when you stumbled across his pictures online, and you knew you had to have him. you booked your first session with him roughly nine months ago, and he was there for you every step of the way.
you didn’t actually need therapy (well…), but you still booked sessions with him because he was yours. it was meant to be. you couldn't unsee it. during your first ever session with him, you made sure to put on your cutest, most feminine and dainty mini dress, paired with some matching high heels. you even did your hair and makeup with precision. jonathan didn’t show it on his face, but when you sat there in that leather chair across from him for the first time, his heart started to beat a million miles a minute.
you were jaw-dropping. he couldn’t believe someone could actually possess such beauty, and though he tried to stay professional, it was proving to be quite difficult. every time you spoke, every time you smiled at him, every time you did absolutely anything — he would become more and more infatuated with you.
“i just wish he didn’t leave me, you know?” you say softly, feigning innocence, “it’s been so hard without a man to take care of me.”
jonathan clenched his jaw silently, he couldn’t believe that a man would be stupid enough to break-up with someone like you. be professional, he reminded himself.
“understandably so,” he said clinically, “i can only imagine how difficult it would be to have a relationship like that end so abruptly.”
“it was so difficult,” you say, your eyes watering, “but, i think i’m slowly starting to move on.”
of course, such "ex-boyfriend" did not exist. this was all part of your elaborate act to make him think you were an innocent, naive girl who was heartbroken and needed someone to save her. that someone being him, of course.
he was made for somebody like you.
you only had seven sessions between the two of you before jonathan abruptly reassigned you to his colleague, doctor webber. she wasn’t anything like doctor crane — she didn’t understand you the way that he did.
good things come to those who wait, but patience wasn’t your thing.
“i’m sorry,” jonathan doctor crane said to you, “as much as i want to continue to be there for you and your journey of growth, i believe that my colleague would be better suited to your…needs.”
“what are you talking about, doctor crane?” you asked, trying to to hide the desperation in your voice.
“i have another patient i must attend to,” he says flatly, informing you that your session had come to an end, “but i wish you all the best.”
and with that, he sent you to see doctor webber. of course, you were heartbroken. how could your soulmate do that to you? but jonathan wasn’t doing it because he didn’t want to see you — it was quite the opposite, actually. he knew that feeling this way about his patient was so very wrong, and if he continued to see you, he wouldn’t be able to control himself.
really, he did this for you.
as you placed your little love concoction on the kitchen counter, you turned on your tv. jonathan was supposed to be doing a segment with the mayor of gotham tonight about the crime rates in the city, and what him and his team at arkham asylum were doing to solve the issue. as his face appeared on tv, you sighed to yourself. he was so handsome in his suit and tie — and those sexy little glasses?
meow.
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the chilly gust of wind made you shiver for a moment, but your latex bodysuit kept you warm enough — well, not really. with your little cat ear headband, you toss your hair over your shoulders as you quietly make your way into the silent home. your black pumps were surprisingly silent against the wood floors, and you crept into the living room where a woman sat on the couch watching tv.
you went undetected as she completely missed your presence. stealthily, you creep behind her until suddenly, you yanked her by her hair. she screamed loudly, and your hand immediately went up to her mouth to clasp down on it; you were getting really good at this.
“don’t scream,” you whisper, “i just came here to tell you to stay away from my man.”
slowly, you remove your hand and she looks back at you with sheer terror, “wh-who’s your man?” she asked with fear laced in her voice.
you hated this bitch — she was one of jonathans patients. there was nothing going on between them, you knew that (plus you would’ve murdered her if there was!), but you had spent the last few weeks…"cleaning up the streets."
these ratty bitches had to go; any woman who was his patient or in his life at all had to go. you even dressed the part with your sexy little cat costume and all. you know what they say — in the eternal game of cat and mouse, there are no winners, only survivors.
“doctor jonathan crane,” you said dreamily, but your tone turned sinister within seconds, “and if you ever go see him again, i will find you, trust me. i've already found you once, and you don't want me to come prowling back around.”
the woman nodded frantically, and you went on your merry way. this was the last one, you were certain. you’d even made a list of all the women to threaten so that you could make sure they would stay away from your man. finally, you made your way home and started to wind down from all the break-ins you’d been making recently. it was hard work chasing down all these…mice.
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jonathan noticed that his belongings were going missing here and there over the last few months, and he knew something strange was going on. he wasn’t sure what the hell was happening, but something was off.
first, little things such as his favourite pen (yes, he has a favourite pen) went missing. then, a few patient files would seemingly disappear along with some sticky notes he had stuck on his desk the day prior. he didn’t think too much of it until one of his credit cards went missing from his wallet — but there weren't any fraudulent charges made.
he even continued to monitor his bank account and freeze his card, but no charges were ever made on it regardless. the last straw was when his spare house key went missing. even for a man as smart as jonathan, he could not figure out who was doing this for the life of him.
you were still attending your regular sessions with doctor webber, but you deliberately booked your appointments on days you knew jonathan was working. you knew you’d run into him either on your way in or way out, and you also knew he wasn’t that booked up anymore since most of his clientele went…missing.
as you said your farewell to doctor webber, you noticed jonathan walking out of his office. he noticed you immediately, giving you a soft smile as you turned to close the door to doctor webbers office. he said your name softly, causing you to almost choke on your own words as you clutched his house keys behind your back.
“doctor crane,” you say softly, “hey.”
“just jonathan is fine,” he said, but he internally scolded himself for saying that, “how have you been?”
“great,” you say sweetly, “doctor webber is…great.”
“that’s wonderful to hear,” he says, “it was nice seeing you again. take care.”
you two parted ways, and once jonathan was back at his apartment — he was to refrain himself from calling you. god, you looked so good today. with those little dresses of yours and good grief, those sexy, little heels you always paired them with. he grabbed himself a glass of whiskey, neat, and took a swig as he thought about you.
why did you have to be on his mind so much, and dear god, why did you have to be so fucking beautiful?
with a frustrated sigh, he looked at his front door, thinking about his keys that suddenly went missing just a week prior. was he overthinking things? was he just imagining it? did he lose his own keys and forget?
he was a psychiatrist for gods sake, why was he driving himself crazy over this? with so many questions and no answers, he made his way to his bathroom as he flicked his kitchen lights off.
the cold water ran from the bathroom sink as he splashed it on his face after removing his glasses, and he looked at himself in the mirror to get a grip. his pale, icy, blue eyes bore into his own reflection, and-
what was that?
he turned around swiftly, turning the tap off, watching as something, no — someone’s perfectly manicured hand ghosted over the edge of his bathroom doorframe.
he couldn’t see anything — the kitchen light was turned off, and the only thing turned on was his dim bathroom light. the master of fear himself felt a little fearful in this moment as he watched the dainty, feminine hand retract and move back into the shadows and he could've sworn he saw...cat ears?
jonathan had to blink a few times to make sure that he hadn’t spilled a vile of his own fear toxin somewhere and that he wasn’t just hallucinating off of it.
hesitantly, he pushed open his bathroom door only to be met with the darkness of his kitchen. his breath hitched as he flicked on the kitchen lights, but he was met with an empty, quiet space. his eyes quickly darted to the front door, but it was locked shut.
but if the door was locked shut, what did he just see? who did he just see? was the scarecrow himself starting to succumb to silly, little, irrational fears? before his mind could start to wander anymore, he heard a familiar sound.
a certain, distinct, and awfully familiar sound of high heels clicking against the wood flooring — and it was coming right from his bedroom. jonathan went over to his bedroom, swinging the door open unsure of what he might see, only to be met with a sight that made him feel weak in the knees.
you were propped up on his bed, in a latex body suit and high heels, along with cat ears to complete your rather sexy costume. you batted your eyelashes at him innocently, and bit your lip as you showed him the rope in your hands.
“how did you…” he whispered, watching you bite your lip as he trailed off.
“doctor,” you purred, “let’s get intertwined.”
“what the fuck…” he whispered once more, watching you as if in a mesmerized trance.
jonathan couldn’t lie — as much as he should have been terrified and calling the cops, he was awfully turned on right now. jesus christ, that latex cat costume that left absolutely nothing to the imagination? yeah, he was hard the moment he saw you.
“i know it’s simply meant to be.” you say softly, and as if his mind could not control his body, he was making his way over to you on his bed.
“um, what-“
“shh,” you hush him, suddenly grabbing him as you swiftly tie a knot around his wrists, “you don’t need to speak, baby boy.”
in mere seconds you had the scarecrow tied up on his own bed, restrained as you looked down at him. jonathan sat there looking up at you — yes, you were hot but you were clearly also insane.
to be fair, so was he.
he didn't bother trying to get himself out of the ropes. he knew that if he tried to struggle you'd most definitely do something not so pleasant to him. also, if he was being honest — this was hot. like, really hot.
"i just need you to do me a favour, baby boy," you giggle, your high heels clicking against the wood flooring once more, "drink this for me, and know that if you refuse, you won't live to see another day."
you held up a vile of pink, shimmery liquid. jonathan looked at you with a raised brow, and hesitantly nodded.
"...i'll drink it if you answer some questions that i have." he says, trying to bargain with you.
"fine," you shrug, "but make it quick."
"alright, first of all, how did you get in here?" he asked.
"easy, i crawled in through your window. next." you say in an awfully innocent voice.
"are you the one that's been taking my stuff?" he asks, and you nod.
"of course, i needed your stuff for my collection." you say whimsically, biting your lip at the thought of your homemade jonathan crane shrine.
in your apartment, you had a wall dedicated to him. it had cut outs of him, printed pictures, his belongings, his address, photos of him when he was younger — the list just goes on. all just regular, boring, stalker stuff, really.
"no more questions," you huff, "drink up, baby boy."
"what is it?" he asked, to which you rolled your eyes.
"an at-home love potion. i'm going to untie you for this — and if you even attempt to run, i will slice your heart in two." you say with an adorable smile.
jonathan doesn't offer a response, but rather opts out for a simple nod. you slowly untie his wrists, handing him the pink, glittery liquid in the vile. you watch him in awe as he closes his eyes and takes it like a shot, smiling to yourself as you realize that he's finally going to be all yours.
this little concoction that you had whipped up was the real deal — you'd even tested it on other men to see if it did what it was intended to do. it worked on them, bringing these men to their knees for you, but it's not like you really had any trouble doing that without a love potion, anyway.
after jonathan drinks it all, he looks back at you blankly. unbeknownst to you, when you were popping the cork off of the potion, he sneakily grabbed a vile of his fear toxin that was stashed by the foot of his bed — just in case you tried to actually murder him.
his plan was to immediately throw the vile at you and watch you succumb to your fears, but if he was being honest, he wanted to see what this shitty little "love potion" could do. he was a man of science, after all.
"i don't feel anything," he said after a moment, "looks like your potion didn't work after all-"
you cut him off with a small giggle, "you don't feel any different?"
"no."
"i've tested it, i know it works," you giggled, "that means if you don't feel any different from before, then you must already love me-"
suddenly, he lunged at you, making you scramble as you tried to fight back. however, he was much stronger than you, making it physically impossible to overpower him. after struggling for a good minute, he had you tied down on the bed like you had him just moments before.
"you're sick in the head," he says, but you could've sworn you saw him smirking, "you're real fucking twisted, you know that? i could call the cops and have you arrested right now."
"do it," you teased, "i dare you to, baby boy."
jonathan suddenly grabbed you by the neck, "what was that?"
you had you refrain from smiling as he choked you softly, feeling yourself get wet from just a second of his touch. you knew exactly what he wanted now.
"sorry," you corrected, "i dare you, sir."
"there we go." he says as he lets go of your throat.
he rummages through his bedside drawer and pulls out some of his own rope, causing your mind to spin at the idea of what he was going to do to you. you didn't run when he untied your wrists initially, but he took a few moments to tie both your wrists up to his bedposts, essentially tying you up so you couldn't move your hands at all.
"oh," you say with a teasing voice, "i see where this is going."
he smirks at you, admiring how sexy you look all tied up in his bed, with your costume and all. he takes his phone out and shamelessly takes a picture with the flash on, and you could feel that you were leaking your arousal down his bedsheets by now.
it seemed that your love potion didn't work on him because, well, he was already obsessed with you.
of course he was — but jonathan was known for his good work ethic. he only gave you up as a patient because it was only a matter of time before he would give in and most likely fuck you on the couch in his office. he just didn't know it was mutual at the time. if he did, well — that's a story for another day.
"maybe i should punish you," he smirks, making his way over to you on the bed, "you've been so disobedient."
"m'sorry, sir," you whimper, "you just make me crazy."
"i know," he cooed condescendingly, "but i think i can fix that, darling."
"you can?"
"i most definitely can," he says lowly, "it might take a few sessions to cure you, but i have a method i think might work on you. i'm gonna fuck you 'till you can't think anymore, no more thoughts after that. sound good?"
you nodded frantically, "mhm, yes. please, fuck yes."
he smirked at you, his hands reaching towards the top of your bodysuit. slowly, he reached his hands behind and unzipped it, slipping it off of you slowly.
"i like the cat costume," he chuckles lowly, "the ears are a cute touch."
you blushed, biting your lip as he slipped you right out of your latex bodysuit. obviously, you wore nothing underneath — not even panties. jonathan groaned at the sight because seriously, no panties? with your wrists tied up and unable to touch him, you were getting pent up real fast.
"i wanna touch you," you whined, "please."
he smirked, "if only you didn't break into my apartment like a stray."
before you could even formulate a proper response, he was crawling between your legs, spreading them out as he got onto his stomach. without warning, he licked a fat stripe up your already soaking cunt, latching his mouth onto your pussy. your back arched at the feeling, and he continued to lap you up.
"f-fuck, jon," you breathed, "feels s-so good."
"i know." he said cooly against your core, lapping up your arousal continuously as you moaned over and over again.
it was sinful how skilled he was with his tongue — it hadn't even been a full five minutes and you were already on the brink of creaming all over his face. he didn't give you any mercy as he continued to eat you out like a starved man, and your wrists were burning against the rope as you tugged on them.
god, the things you would do to run your hands through his soft, dark, and now tousled hair.
"nnnghh," you whimper, "i'm, ah- gon' cum!"
the coil in your stomach snapped as your release hit you like a freight train, making you scream his name as he made you cum. you were left a panting mess, and he finally released the grip he had on your thighs. after wiping his pink, plump lips along with his chin which glistened with your wetness, he smiled softly at you.
"taste s'good," he commented, "you look so pretty like this, darling. tied up and helpless."
"n-need you," you whisper, "baby, please."
this time, he didn't correct you and demand you call him "sir." maybe it was the heat of the moment or maybe it was the realization that he had finally met a woman who was as unhinged as he was. deep down, he was really loving the idea.
he started to undo his belt, making sure to keep his eyes locked on yours, teasing you as he undid his belt at a painfully slow pace. finally, after what felt like an eternity (it maybe thirty seconds at most), his cock sprung out of his pants, hitting his stomach lightly. it was long, veiny, and thick. how was that supposed to fit inside of you? surely it would split you open.
"cat got your tongue?" he teased as he unbuttoned his white button-down, stroking his cock a few times as your hips bucked into nothing.
"uh-huh." you whispered in awe, biting your lip at the thought of how his size was going to stretch you beyond your limits.
with a low chuckle, he lined his thick cock up with your begging hole, pushing in slowly as you felt him stretch your cunt out fully. he was so big and so long, the feeling of him just halfway inside of you was enough to have you pulling against the ropes again. the way the rope was digging into your wrists was degrading but undeniably hot. it was like a silent reminder of how little control you actually had over this whole situation.
"s-so full!" you squeaked, but he kept pushing himself into your tight, warm hole.
"s'okay, you can take it. and if you can't, i'll make you take it." he groaned, finally bottoming out in you.
you were stuffed to the brim with his cock and slowly, he started to thrust his length in and out of you. desperately, you let out a feverish moan. your breaths were short but heavy, and you were a fucked out, cockdrunk mess for him as he picked up his pace.
"you're so fucking tight, my god," he moaned, "i should've fucked you sooner."
"make me cum," you plead desperately, "f-fuck, yes, feels so good, jonathan!"
"yeah? you wanna cum?" he cooed as he continued to fuck your sopping pussy, "you wanna cum on this cock?"
"fuck, yes." you pleaded.
his cock was pressed snugly up against your cervix, so deep that you could feel him in your stomach. he continued to stretch your little hole out, ruthlessly pounding his thick cock into you more and more as you started to see stars. your walls started to flutter around him, letting him know that you were close without having to say a word.
"close already, darling?" he asked, "are you gonna cum for me again, hm?"
"y-yes!" you moaned, "ohmygod- i'm gonna-"
your words started to melt together at one point as you got lost in the pleasure of your high. soon enough, your soaking cunt was tightening up around his fat cock, and a clear liquid poured out from you.
of course — you were so turned on by the way he was screwing you that you'd squirted all over his bedsheets.
"oh, darling," he moaned, "that was so fucking sexy, jesus."
"j-jonathan, baby," you begged, "i-i can't-"
"you can, i promise," he groaned, "i'm close."
"p-please." you started to beg incoherently, the overstimulation making your head spin as your cunt fluttered around his cock again.
he continued to ram your tight pussy until his thrusts started to become sloppier and sloppier, and you could tell that he was close to the edge.
"cum i-inside," you begged him, "i need to be filled, fuck-"
"okay, okay," he panted as his he gave you a few more deep, harsh thrusts, 'm'gonna fill you up, darling."
you nodded, your head spinning as he finally came inside with a low groan, painting your walls white as he stuffed you with his warm seed. he stilled, staying inside of your warm hole for just a little longer to ensure you got every last bit of his cum, before pulling out his semi-hard cock.
he bit his lip as he watched his cum drip out of you (the sight of him biting his lip almost made you cum again), and he reached over to untie your wrists as you slumped down against the pillows. he laughed softly, pulling you into him as you instinctively cuddled into his arms.
he pulled the cat ear headband off your head, which you forgot you still had on, and tossed them to the side.
"i guess i'm going to have a hard time getting rid of you, huh? stalker." he joked, sighing as he took in all the details of your pretty face.
"you won't be able to get rid of me," you say softly, "i'm obsessed with you."
"good, i don't want you around anyone but me." he says, playing with your hair gently.
"i know," you giggle, "but stupid love potion was useless. i should've known you were already in love with me."
the both of you laughed softly, snuggled up in his bed as he told you all about what he did on the side for work — and all about his plans to fear gas gotham city.
jonathan trusted you with this because he knew there wasn't a line in existence that you wouldn't cross for him.
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@ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a @xanaxiii
@seaamonster @nocturnest @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones @oceanstem
@futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @dolleyednymphette @kpopgirlbtssvt @ll4n4
@ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @aprilsfrog05 @wiseyouthinfluencer
@minedofmoria @strangeobsessed
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agatalunar · 16 days ago
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· . ˚ *  * How do others perceive you? · . ˚ *  *
it would be a pleasure for me if you let me know if the reading resonated with you so do not hesitate to send me a message, comment or reblog, it will make me immensely happy
choose the gif with which you feel most connected/attracted
Pile 1… 2… 3…
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⠀〜 Pile 1
Cards: king of wands, the moon, the justice, eight of cups
You are afraid that others will see who you really are and others notice this, they see potential in you but for some reason you don't dare to express it. You have a lot of light inside you but something stops you, you have an infectious laugh. It's as if you wanted to be a rockstar but in your environment you avoid being perceived, there is no balance between what you want and what you do. Others perceive that you hide, but... why do you do it?
You may think that you don't stand out in the crowd, but it's quite the opposite. No matter how basic you dress or how little you speak, you always have eyes looking at you and admiring you.
It's like you're a greek goddess/god trapped in the body of a mere mortal, there's a potential in you that others perceive; little by little take control of that potential, play with makeup and clothes, play with the way you walk and act, you have a mesmerizing aura that others can't resist. Don't be afraid of being perceived. Don't let fear take away your path to success, the world is waiting for you. I don't even know you but I love your energy, you are a star baby!! The world needs an icon of freedom and authenticity like you.
The vibe you bring to the function:
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Things that may resonate with you or are significant:
Luces de Nueva York by Sonora Santanera, Hold me tight by BTS, “can you trust me?”, wear a lot of black, having hair up/short, redhead, 11, 18, Endlessly by Kali Uchis, “watch me with your eyes”, Chappell Roan, Vanity by Christina Aguilera, 1920, 🏳️‍🌈, queer, 888, Bjork, feminine power, “who’s the real me?”, Villain by PIXY, have an audience, fill stages
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⠀〜 Pile 2
Cards: ace of wands, king of cups, queen of swords and nine of cups
You don't let others take power over you, others notice the limits you set and that can sometimes intimidate them. You're like that person at the party that everyone wants to talk to but they don't because you have such a strong energy, they love to admire you. No matter how you identify, you have a super well-balanced masculine and feminine energy.
Others love your hair, the way you move when you dance, you may really like silver jewelry or accessories, animal print? Others notice that you have a very mature energy, they perceive you as someone responsible and who knows what they want in life, you are an extremely attractive person, you are such a beautiful human being that your beauty imposes
You love spending time alone or at least you know that your happiness doesn't depend on others, it only depends on you. Although maybe the only thing you haven't completely healed is the fact of feeling vulnerable with someone else, and yes, I'm talking about loving connections. Let your soul feel what it's like to be in love, let someone like you. Don't let the fear of being sensitive take away the possibility of creating deep and beautiful connections.
The vibe you bring to the function:
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Things that may resonate with you or are significant:
Heavens on fire by KISS, 9, Lo que Paso Paso by Daddy Yankee, Can’t get you out of my head by Kylie Minogue, scary beauty, Never say never by The fray, When loves is around by Zayn (feat.Syd), dance to transmute energy, 🐆, 🤎, black hair, Bad girl by WOOAH, Lest fall in love for the morning by Finneas, Hey Ma by Pitbull, You should be dancing by Bee Gees, fast and furious, She’s not afraid by One Direction
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⠀〜 Pile 3
Cards: knight of coins, seven of wands, eight of cups and the death
You have a very calm energy, others perceive you as a peaceful person, you have very diverse tastes.
You are a very beautiful person but you don't notice it? Or you just don't give it any importance. Others love spending time with you because your presence attracts calm, you love to see the sky, you probably meditate or you like philosophy and reading a lot, you like to write. They love you because you are not one to criticize, you just want to take it easy, you understand that each individual goes their own way.
Somehow I feel that you have the gift of transmuting the energy of others, the negative energy of the world, you do it automatically so take good care of yourself, rest and eat well. You are like a teacher of life, possibly your soul is an old soul. You let others know a lot about your tastes, your personality and your law of life but you don't let them get too close to your personal life, I don't see it as something bad but understand that there are people in the world that you can trust, not all of them are selfish or bad.
The vibe you bring to the function:
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Things that may resonate with you or are significant:
Sagittarius, air sign, indie kid, Sex, drugs, etc by Beach Weather, alternative music, lying on the grass/admiring the scenery, the pandemic is significant in your life, viral music from tiktok or music from 2019-2021, I love it by Charlie XCX, kpop, Work - Rihanna, Break free by Ariana Grande, diary, Emma Chamberlain, 5, goblin/fairy vibe, Doja Cat, “talking bad is not my style”
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Thanks for your time and energy, I hope you liked it <3
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sweetteainthesummerx · 4 months ago
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it's nice to have a friend !
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
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nhl masterlist !
pairings: jack hughes x shy!reader, jack hughes x bsf!reader, nico hischier x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader
warnings: mutual pining, fluff
summary: you gain a best friend and a lover, all in one !
song: it's nice to have a friend by taylor swift
word count: 3.3 k
notes: I love me a reformed bad boy! this is based on this request: here. I hope you like it!
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
school bell rings, walk me home, sidewalk chalk covered in snow, lost my gloves, you give me one
"are you okay, miss?" a voice asks from behind you, and you jump.
it's a boy. he's real pretty, features the perfect balance between masculine built and delicate feminine.
you're so sure that you're fifty shades of red right now, but he smiles kindly at you.
"sorry, it's just you look really cold." he points at your hands, and the fact that your teeth are chattering.
you realize that you're still silent.
you hate that you're so painfully shy. it's especially hard after you moved from your hometown for work, where the little amount of friends had to bid you goodbye with worry.
sure, you talk to your coworkers, but it's not the same.
"I-i'm okay." you try to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace.
jack, you find out his name is, was raised by his mother to never leave a lady in distress (you almost laugh at that). he offers you his gloves, still warm from his own hands. you thank him quietly, and he grins wide, "you're welcome, sweetheart."
the sidewalk is still covered in snow, but he walks you back to your apartment building, where the two of you find out something else you have in common: you're practically neighbours.
he lives only 4 or 5 doors down from you.
he drops you off, brushing your fingers with his own bigger ones as he tells you to come find him if you need anything at all.
as he watches you enter the safety and warmth of your own apartment, he frowns.
why would he do that? normally he wouldn't care about this kind of stuff, but you looked so cold and down.
so when you offered him that sweet, shy smile, he melts despite the cold jersey weather.
it's weird, because you're very pretty, but he doesn't have the itch to fuck you and leave you.
he wants to know why you're here, what you do, you're favourite colour.
his phone dings with the notification of some instagram model he met up with a week ago. he sighs, turning back from his own door to go meet her.
for some reason, he doesn't want to go.
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
"wanna hang out?", yeah, sounds like fun, video games, you pass me a note
you bite your lip, and retract your hand once more. you want to knock, but you...
just do it! you tell yourself, and you knock quickly, wincing.
a boy who is decidedly not jack answers the door.
"uh, hi?" he's tall, with curly hair and a lanky body.
you freeze up a little.
fortunately, jack pops up from behind.
he calls your name, with excitement and surprise. it makes something warm bloom in your chest.
"I brought you guys cookies?" it comes out more like a question, "I brought you guys cookies, because you walked me home last week."
normally, luke would be teasing his older brother - and the fact he was cheesing like an idiot still - but he smells the cookies first.
to your surprise, the younger boy grabs you by the wrist to drag you into the apartment, thanking you for the baked goods.
he offers you a hug, introducing himself.
you're a bit unnerved, but he's so cute, like a little puppy that you hug him back, patting his shoulder while stifling a smile. he reminds you a bit of your own little brother.
jack pouts. no way luke got a hug before him. so he sidles up to you, tucking you under his arm.
"wanna hang out with us? we're playing video games."
you don't know much, but you do know you like how he's looking at you, all soft brown eyes and crooked smile.
so you tuck yourself into the couch.
you find out a lot about both of them: they're brothers who play for the same nhl team - impressive - they can finish a whole batch of cookies in 20 minutes, and they have lots of friends.
people start popping up into the apartment, nico, johnny and so many more large, kind boys who hug you in greeting.
you almost don't mind, especially when jack texts you from across the room.
he's watching you from the kitchen where you're speaking in choppy german to nico. he's worried, because the first time he met you, you were so shy and shaking in your boots.
you all good? I can walk you home if the boys are tiring you out
you look up, a small grin on your face as you shake your head at him.
you look so at home on his couch with his friends, that something blind and unfamiliar stirs in his stomach. he ignores an incoming text from the instagram model he met up with, in favour to watch nico explain german grammar to you.
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
light pink sky up on the roof, sun sinks down, no curfew, twenty questions, we tell the truth
jack thinks you're an angel. he'd come back to the apartment after a really hard game, battered and bruised. you show up to his door like you have been for a while, sometimes when it's just the two of you, sometimes when many of the boys are there.
this time, you're holding a bag in your hands. he sighs as he opens the door, falling into your arms.
"oh-! jack, you're too heavy!" you exclaim, trying to hold his weight. he pouts, leading you to the couch. he pushes you down gently, and you let him.
he snuggles up to you, head cradled by your chest.
he waits for you to coo and fuss over him, because you're just so kind and he finds this unprecedented comfort in you.
you feel like home, despite only knowing him for a few months.
"you okay?" you ask, and he pushes his head into your hands. you smile, getting the message.
you finally scratch his head, and he practically purrs. he settles into you, full weight like a thick blanket as you push through his hair with your nails.
"there you go," you murmur, quiet and loving. he thinks you'd be a good mom someday, and his heart twists when he thinks of you with someone else, making a home.
"can you scratch my back?" he knows he's being whiny, but you brush your thumb over his cheek and nod.
you're about to slip your hand under his shirt, but he sits up, tugging it over his head and returning to you like he always seems to do these days.
he slides his arms under your back, rubbing his head to your stomach.
you flush red, something unfamiliar spiking through your blood. he's all thick, soft muscles, unlike the vanity ones you see on some guys. raw, simple strength to take the hits and deliver them in his sport.
he's so handsome.
you scratch your nails down his back and he shivers.
"cold?" you hum, but he shakes his head.
after a while, he lets you get up because your legs are numb.
"you're too heavy," you grin again, and he complains that you're calling him fat.
he's ridiculous, with his abs under soft skin and big biceps. he still hasn't put his shirt back on.
"so, what's in the bag?" he asks, and you brighten up.
you dump it out on to the couch: it's face masks, eye masks and skin care.
"I like to relax with this, so I thought maybe you would like it?" you ask shyly, "we don't have to-"
"no!" jack exclaims, throwing everything into the bag and standing, "I want to. see what the hype is about."
he's seen the cute couple pictures online with the girl doing the guy's skincare; something about you suggesting it makes his feel ten feet tall.
so that's how he ends up with you on his bathroom counter, himself between your legs as you rub shaving cream onto his face.
"you better not slice me up," he pokes your tummy, and you giggle.
"don't worry, jackpot," you use his nickname, "cant' have the fans mourning your pretty face."
you carefully shave off his stubble, eyes concentrated.
you're so close, and you smell you, and you're so careful with him he wants to kiss you and give you his heart.
you hold his hair back as he washes his face. the act is so intimate, and the whole scene is so domestic that it makes him homesick for something he's never had.
"okay, so I'll put the eye masks on you first, then the clay one."
it's actually pretty relaxing, he has to admit. the eye masks are cool, and the clay mask is a little tight, but he likes to see you smooth it onto your own face, matching his.
he takes his phone, and you slide under his arm, linking yours around his waist.
the both of you smile wide for the mirror selfie, and he makes it his lock screen.
after both of you wash the masks from you - admittedly smoother - skin, he orders a pizza, and you make your way up to the roof.
the light pollution is too bad and he knows that the stars won't be visible, but the pink-inked sky is pretty as your smile.
the two of you talk about everything and nothing: some trick he managed to pull during practice, your co-workers pending divorce, something funny his mom said.
he wishes he could stay here forever, with you.
you, with your soft hair and smile, his too-big hoodie over your shoulders as you lean on him.
he likes seeing you all sleepy and vulnerable, answering his questions quietly.
"do you want a boyfriend?" he asks as the sun goes to bed.
"of course I do," you murmur, "but I just want the right person, at the right time."
he smiles at that. he wants to be that person for you.
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
you've been stressed out lately? yeah, me too, something gave you the nerve, to touch my hand
"oh, shit." you swear softly, and sophie, your co-worker turned best friend - don't let jack hear that - apologizes.
"sorry! sorry! don't move, bro!" she rubs where the curling iron touched the back of your neck.
"that's gonna leave a mark. I'm sorry, sweetie." she fusses, and you tell her it's okay.
luke and jack are having a party for new years at their place, so you and sophie take that chance to dress up for once.
your makeup is done, so is your hair. you have to admit, sophie's done a real good job.
"yeah, dude. we look hot."
you're wearing a pretty red dress, with thin straps and material that clung to your body.
you were unsure, but Sophie hyped you up enough for you to put it on, and you felt really confident.
except you were a little scared at how short it was.
"hey, girl!" luke exclaimed when you entered their apartment. "you look great. hey, soph!"
he handed you both a drink, scurrying off to greet someone else.
the two of you link hands, trying and laughing while bulldozing through the crowd to get to the living room.
some guy catches soph's eye, and you encourage her to go off and talk to him.
nico finds you, being pushed around by the throng of people, and tucks you under his arm like your a football.
you giggle a little as he manages to navigate the way. jack's sitting on one of the arm chairs, and his eyes brighten when he sees you.
"special delivery!" nico pats your head like he would to his little sister, and you roll your eyes good-naturedly.
the only thing between you is many half-drunk hockey players and drinks on the ground. nico is about to pick you up like a cat, but jack hops his way over, swatting his hands.
"I got it, precious cargo, after all." he slips one hand under your thighs, and another arm wrapped round your waist so you're pressed against his vertically.
you cling to his neck as he makes his way back to his seat, turning you in his arms to fit you onto his lap.
"you look..." he breathes into your ear, "you look gorgeous, baby."
"thanks, jack."
the night continues like normal, until between the sheer amount of people in the apartment and jack's chest pressed against you is making you over heat. as you laugh at one of johnny's jokes you sweep your hair over your shoulder to let your neck breathe.
you feel jack tense beneath you, and he lifts you to stand.
"I-i need a drink," his eyes are panicked and shaky. he bolts, and you stand to go after him. nico and Luke call after you, concerned.
you find him on the roof, leaning over the banister, shoulders shaking.
"jack, honey?" you ask, slipping a hand between his shoulder blades, "do you feel sick?"
the cool air makes goosebumps rise on your skin, even more so when he turns to you, teeth grit.
"no, m'fine. go back to the party."
"not until you tell me-"
"why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone?" he blurts out, refusing to look at you.
"huh?" you ask.
"why didn't you tell me? I thought we told each other everything."
"what are you-"
"you don't need to pretend. I know-" he shudders, like it's painful for him to say this, "I know you're..."
"jack-" you start, but he grabs your hands, new determination in his eyes as he draws you close.
"you should know that I'm in love with you. so you have options, baby." his lip is quivering, and his eyes are rimmed with red.
"I-"
"I could treat you better than he could. and I wouldn't hide it, either. we would be so good together..." he's rubbing the length of your arms now, trying to warm you up.
"we already work so well together. we're best friends and you make me laugh so much. you make me feel safe and tethered."
he continues, "and...jeez, baby, you're fucking gorgeous. I just want to press you against a wall and..." he's talking low and heavy in your ear, and you lean closer to him.
"please, just consider me. I wouldn't just leave a hickey on your neck behind your ear and not celebrate new years with you."
"what?" you asked, surprised, "no, that's not a hickey. sophie burnt my neck while curling my hair."
jack colours a brilliant shade of fire work red.
he just got all in his head, seeing you dolled up and loose, that when he saw the mouth sized mark on the smooth nape of your neck, his only thought was: that should've been me.
"fuck."
you've got a teasing smile on your face now, "you loooove me!"
"I am a dumbass."
"a dumbass who loves me." you grin, cupping his neck, smoothing circles over the skin there.
"my offer still stands," he tells you, winding his arms around your waist.
"yes. I love you too, you idiot." the people throughout the apartment building are starting to chant.
3, 2, 1, happy new years!
"happy new years, baby." he says, and he presses his lips softly, and sweetly to yours.
he's so delicate, trying to make sure everything is perfect.
and it is, because he's with you, with the promise of more forever.
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
church bells ring, carry me home, rice on the ground looks like snow
"yeah, mom. I know, I've been eating good. my girl's taking care of me."
you hear jack's voice from where you're measuring rice in the pantry. he definitely thinks that the pantry doors are thicker than they are.
you smile, because he takes such good care of you too: he washes your hair in the shower, he carries and stocks your groceries, he always makes sure you're fed and warm when you're too stressed.
and he takes care of you in other ways that makes you warm and all liquidy.
"I'm gonna make her my wife, mom. she's...she's the one. yes, I'll bring her to the lake house for the summer, but I'll have to ask first. okay. bye. love you too."
by that time you've made it out of the room, closer to him. when he says wife, you drop the whole bowl of rice you were holding.
"did you hear that?" jack's ears are pink, but he's got a cheesy smile on his face.
"yeah. you have a really loud voice, honey."
"call me that again." he asks, as you come to stand between his legs as he sits on the barstool of the kitchen counter.
"loud voice," you tease.
he laughs, and when the two of you quiet down, he rests his head on your shoulder.
"I mean it, y'know."
"we've been only dating for like a month," you protest weakly.
"and I can't wait to see you walk down the aisle to me."
"will you cry?"
"no," he lies, even though he's getting a little teary just thinking about it.
"hmm." you kiss him anyways, and Luke finds you there 10 minutes later, still wrapped up together with rice all over the floor.
"you guys are weirdos." he rolls his eyes, making a face as jack kisses your lips again.
"watch it, mister. you're talking to your future sister in law." you joke, and luke jumps, reaching for your hand.
"dude, were you fucking with me?" he whines, "I got all excited too."
jack hollers something insulting his intelligence as you laugh, watching the two boys.
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
feels like home, stay in bed, the whole weekend, it's nice to have a friend
jack kisses your forehead as he hands you a plate of food. you bite his cheek as he shrieks.
you laugh, sitting up so he can see his shirt that's practically falling off of your frame.
you and jack had a slow morning, the sun streaming over your naked bodies as you simply enjoyed each other's presence. around noon, he finally got up to shower.
you refused to join him because "no, the two of us showering together would not save water, it would probably waste more."
so he showered, sad and alone, and made breakfast after you went to clean yourself off.
now, watching you eat toast and watch his past game highlights from last weekend, he knows.
he knows it's going to be you, no matter what.
he knows it's you he wants to grow old with, and have three kids - two boys, one girl, he has the names all planned out - and that picket fence shit.
he knows it's you who'll take care of him with your soft hands and heart at the end of the day, and you'll be the one he'll protect and provide for too.
he knows that he loves you like the back of his hand.
and he knows you're his best friend, the love of his life.
so he knows that he wants to make you his wife.
he leans over to his bedside drawer and pulls out a box.
he got it the weekend after the two of you got together, and he's shaking as you turn to him with wide eyes.
"I love you. you're...you're it for me, baby. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I promise to keep you safe and warm and always finish your plate when you're full," he knows you too well, because your left overs are already on his plate, "and I just want all of you. will you marry me?"
"yes," you breathe, tackling him into the bed with a delighted whoop.
there's no other words to describe it, it's so nice to have you.
it's so nice to have you forever, now.
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
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frogchiro · 1 year ago
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Also I was thinking about something slightly...darker i guess?? I'm in a very weird headspace rn and this is my therapy
cw: legal age gap, creepy Simon and generaly unsettling behavior, obsessive and possessive Ghost, he's a pushy dick in this and very much a scumbag, he kinda gets off on seeing you helpless
How about reader who got recently kicked out by her shitty parents, 'she's now an adult and needs to start acting like that', except now she's barely in her 20's with little to nothing to her name except her clothes, the little money she managed to save over the years and a job as a waitress in a small café.
Putting together the saving she manages to rent out an apartment that was almost suspiciously cheap, not to mention the shady landlord who only contacted her through the phone but she couldn't just crash at her friend's place forever.
The moment you arrived at the destination you knew why was the place so ridiculously cheap; this build was...something. An old dilapitating apartment building, four stories high with old wooden-framed windows, some of them smashed. Empty beer bottles laid smashed next to the stairs mixing with cigarette butts, graffiti covered the ground floor walls and a very sad looking patch of grass that you think was supposed to be a garden were solemnly staring back at you as if taunting 'come on, try and run'.
Imagine sleazy neighbour Simon, dishonorably discharged from the army and now living in this shithole too, who takes a deep interest in the pretty young thing that moved in recently, almost growling when he first caught your scent; fresh and kinda sweet, feminine and clean. Definitely not the smells that he's accustomed to here: stale cigarettes, the stench of alcohol and wet dirt and fuck knows what else those creepy fuckers are concocting in their holes in here.
You're clearly new to...this. Simon can almost taste it; you were probably kicked out after pa and ma decided they're done with you...But who could throw out a pretty flower like you? Soft, trembling body, wide doe eyes almost brimming with tears of fright, fuck it does things to him.
Simon sure as hell wouldn't mind the company of a soft young woman like you, and he's pretty sure you wouldn't mind being protected and taken care of by a big, strong male like himself, right?
Even if you do, it's not like you have any say in that.
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astrologylunadream · 6 months ago
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How Their Higher Self Feels About You💍💎🩷 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)
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Hi it's Lunadream~😇 We will be "diving into" a reading on exactly how your person's true higher self feels about you!🌊🩷 hope you find your message ^^
Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)
Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of yourself, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~🌊💞
Pile 1🫧
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Pile 2🪼
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Pile 3⚪️
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Pile 4🐋
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Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡
On to the readings —> 🌊💍🩷
Pile 1🫧
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Sign energy: Soul connection, Demand, Cheeks, Suspicion, Offer, Libra, 8th house, Neptune, 4th house, 11th house,🩺🧖‍♂️🫰📱
🩷Your person's energy: So this is a very dreamy and lovely person, they have really soft cheeks I'm hearing😇💕 Some of you may have met them online, through friends or possibly a dating app🤭 I can see a lot of my pile 1's falling in love with them through your phone. Your person is very kind and sweet, they feel spiritual aswell as emotional. Sign placements are Libra, Scorpio, Pisces, Cancer, and Aquarius. There is a very soft feminine aura to your person in this reading!💗😭 This is someone you have a soul connection with, they can be psychic when it comes to you and you are the same with them. This person is very intuitive, and they may have a sneaking suspicion about their connection with you.🔍🫢 They are comforting and gentle, also they seem friendly and good to you. Now some of you may have an obsession with this person, and you can't get enough of them.💓👀 They have a refreshing vibe, could be a water rising or neptune aspecting ascendant for some in this pile. You feel comfortable about this person, they feel safe and protective.🫂💖 Your heart rate may increase when you two are alone together or when you feel an intense energy from them.😮‍💨 Their fingers are really hot just saying😂 Some of my pile 4's like their posts or stalk their social media, or just fantasize about them a lot. This person has a lot to give especially in their relationships with people, they just give out so much love and kindness.🤗💞 But they may expect something deeper in return from their lovers. They can be a little pushy when it comes to getting back what they give. So they can be really sweet but they then want the other person to return their kind gesture🫴👀 Lol they may spend a lot of time on their phone, or with friends. You see this person as a soulmate or a potential forever partner which is so sweet.💗
💎How their higher self feels about you: Flower, Keep a secret, One and Only, Unrequited love, Practice, Water, 10th house, Capricorn, Pluto, 9th house,🎨🏃‍♀️‍➡️🐝🦵 Okaaayy they know you like themmm🙈💞 You are the only one for them!! They're keeping you like you're a secret PILE 1😝 You're just so soft and cute to them they wanna pick you up and bring you home😭🥰 Their higher self is aware of your feelings towards them and they aren't mad about it either😏💖 They actually really enjoy you feeling that way about them, it makes them feel reliable and admired.👑 Also they wanna make all your dreams come true, they bee-lieve in you haha because the bee emoji😂 I just realized the emojis is a girl running towards the bee, the bee movie anyone?🤣🤣 LOL now I can't stop laughing maybe that movie resonates with you. If you're going through a time of unrequited love they want to encourage you to confess and go through with it! Your person's higher self really wants to keep you in love with them, because it feels so good.😭 Their higher self also sees your spiritual or occult practices as something very intelligent and knowledgeable, like wow pile 1 knows all this that's amazing😢💗 You are unlike any other to your person's higher self, they feel you are so creative and ambitious! They have very delicate feelings for you, so soft for my pile 1's!💭 Their higher self is very drawn to you, there is a deep attraction to your legs and thighs🫢 They kinda want to be the only one to own you, there is this magnetic attraction towards you they can't ignore. They want you to be able to depend on them, and care for you. Their higher self does want to warn you to be careful of falling into deep obsession and hiding it, they want you to focus on broadening your horizons with knowledge instead💡🥰 Their higher self hopes you can keep running towards your goals and make it to the top!🔝🎉✨️ You can do it pile 1 and their higher self believes in you. They feel so much love and care towards you, they see you as something so pure and gentle that must be protected by them.😩👏💓 They feel you are the "only one of your kind" so maybe you're different than the people around you, family or your cultural background. Pile 1 this person is cheering for you so hard! Their higher self is supporting you every step of the way and that is so adorable and sweet I'm gonna cry🥹💗
💌Messages from them: Hug me, We have a past together, I can't tell you, This happens every time, Can we be together? Thinking of you, It's so hard to resist you, I wanna steal your kiss (Hug me then I wanna steal your kiss CUTE😖😫💗💞💓) Extra cards: Melody, My everything, Corner, End, Autumn, Cancer, 8th house, Gemini, Eros, 2nd house (You are their everything pile 1!!! Their higher self desires you so much, they are here for you!🫂💗)
Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🌊🩷
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the emoji~ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💞
Pile 2🪼
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Sign energy: 5th house, Material, Dance, Violate, Foreign country, Saturn, South node, Sun, Mercury, 11th house,💍🏃‍♂️‍➡️🔊💀
🩷Your person's energy: Wow so pile 2 this is interesting your person is a very unique individual🤭 Sun energy just jumped out first thing from your person, they have a powerful presence about them! There is Capricorn, Leo, Virgo, Gemini and Aquarius energy here.✨️ Could have 5th house placements, Sun-Mercury conjuct or aspected, Sun or Mercury in 11th house those are some placements I'm picking up on for some of my pile 2's person.💞 I personally love that energy so it makes me want to assume they're automatically really attractive to you guys!😩🫶 I just knowwww lol. They could speak a different language than you, or learning one just for fun.😁💬 For some of you this person is from a foreign country, others they are just simply interested in other cultures and languages.💗 I feel like your person is very reliable and stable with money, they may work hard and it's giving husband/wife material💲💍✨️ There is something creative they like to do, could be dancing or something artistic for a hobby or work. Oh for some of my pile 2's this person has a dancing career. With the sound emoji and mercury coming through, maybe a singer for some of you too.🎤🎼 They could be an investor or entrepreneur or that's something that they would be good at. Some of you may have had a past with this person, there could have been problems surrounding boundaries or barriers in communication.🔇🚫 Your person is very successful and far from ordinary, they have a lot of worth👑🥰 I'm picking up on another scenario for some of my pile 2's, who this could have been a short romamce kinda thing. So the passion started out strong with this person and it may feel like it ended as quick as it started, so the romance with this person may have fell flat.💔 For others your person is not in contact with you. Some of you may be manifesting them, manifesting marriage even.🫢💭 Your person could be chasing their dreams and ambitions for their career, they are very talented and focused.🌟 They have a lot of passion, also come off flirty and smooth. They do shine and I think they have very high standards. They could be running away from something, possibly commitment.😬 They give a busy vibe too, they may tell themselves they don't have time for a long term romantic partner.
💎How their higher self feels about you: Cage, Drop, True, Comfort zone, Chaos, Fire, 4th house, Gemini, 3rd house, 10th house,🎧🪫🫡☹️ I think their higher self is a little worried about you, as they have a perspective on how everything is playing out.😭 They feel you are very hyperactive and hard to contain, they know you think of them a lot...😳 You appear a bit chaotic in the eyes of their higher self, they may see potential problems surrounding around you and their reputation or career.💼👤 Aw but this is so sweet they would drop everything for you pile 2, because you are like home.🏠💗 Their higher self find you sweet and caring as much as energetic and fun. They wanna hold your hand😫🤝 I'm kinda getting like a shark cage imagery you know when it drops into the water and that can seem scary, your person's higher self sees you in that cage and they want to keep you safe. Maybe they represent the cage, not to trap or contain you but to protect you and keep anything harmful away from pile 2.🥺💕 Okay so your voice gives them so much comfort, they love hearing you speak and if they had your voice on recording they would drain their battery so much just from listening to your voice LOL that's what I'm seeing with them.😂 You could be going through a hard time with your professional/public life, there could be rumors about you or things feel very unorganized and problematic.😵‍💫 Your person's higher self has a lot of empathy for you, I can picture them so sad just thinking about what you're going through. Their higher self misses you if you're apart, they feel everything is moving too fast. Some of you moved away from this person, their higher self feels the time is running out.⏳️😢 You are like a true best friend to them, I'm also getting even though you make them feel comfortable I think their uptight nature is challenged by your seemingly unpredictability. Everything feels new with you, they are faced with things they aren't used to or questions they never had before.💬 They are on the edge of their seat with you sometimes I'm hearing. Their higher self may feel like you are a handful, but they're willing to free their hands just for you.🩷 I think there is just a lot going on for you both in 3D and they know it's a tough situation with you.😞🌧 But they want to give you comfort from their higher self, and they would hold you in their arms if they could.💞😭 They definitely wish to communicate and talk with you my pile 2's. They want you to know it's going to be alright, and all the bad things that are keeping you from smiling will soon dissolve. They would give you head pats OMG pile 2 their higher self is really there for you, they just really wanna keep you safe.🫂🥹💗
💌Messages from them: Tell me more, Your fantasies are achievable, I wish I had you, You have so much worth, I want to comfort you, I'm going to steal your heart, You make me look bad, I was wrong (YES pile 2 they want to comfort you as said and they wanna hype you up!!👏🥰💗) Extra cards: Unrequited love, Hands, Purpose, Chains, Cutie, Sun, 1st house, Juno, Air, Leo (They don't want you to be held back from what you can achieve!! Also they really wanna hold you😫✊️ You have a purpose in their life and they do in yours, likely commitment!! They think you're cute😉 And a little something else but it's not that type of reading~😏)
Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🌊🩷
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the jellyfish emoji~🪼 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💞
Pile 3⚪️
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Sign energy: Care taker, To the grave, Prediction, Maturity, Jealousy, 5th house, Leo, 2nd house, Gemini, Saturn,🌃✍️✌️💐
🩷Your person's energy: Okay pile 3 this is someone responsible and sweet, physically your person is really eye-catching and appealing.😘💕👀 They could be a bit older than you, or that is just the vibe they give off. Mature, caring and very polished💅 There are significant 2nd and 5th house placements in their chart, Leo, Taurus, Gemini, and Capricorn energy. I am getting a mostly masculine vibe, just because they are quite stable and efficient.✨️ They give off some feminine aura too. You could be intimidated by this person's presence, status or maturity. They just come off like they know what they're doing.😩 The vibe they give others is like untouchable. Lol They look like they mean business I'm hearing lol, they could have capricorn mercury or mercury-saturn, mercury in earth sign or 10th house those are some aspects take what resonates.🤗 They are quite commanding and naturally authoritative, their neck is also something very attractive😳 I'm hearing "dictator", feel like this person looks like they have a lot of money, they spend well💸💰😍 Also they put pride and effort into their appearance, they're big on self care. They are a wise thinker and can plan ahead nicely.⌚️⏳️💭 Pile 3 your person is HOT😭 They're just so snazzy, they could be a writer for some of you. Also night owl, they could enjoy journaling at night before bed. For some of my pile 3's they're in the entertainment industry, director, producer, brand ambassador or business owner. Those could be things they're interested in starting as side gigs/hobbies omg something really impressive okay lol😍 They could be a singer for some of my pile 3's. They could like to invest, also their time is an investment I'm hearing.✨️ AH pile 3 your person also has such a romantic smooth side, like they can win you over so easily with their words😩💋 I'm seeing that a lot of people want to take from this person, your person has a hesitation to give to others and they find it hard to trust. They're like in their own spotlight so they could have a lot of people jealous of what they have, some more harmful than others😬 Your person could have a hidden/secret hobby, could be writing, something that helps them settle down in calm and quiet. also they have a specific scent or perfume/cologne. They are not only phsyically attractive but also mentally too.🧠👀
💎How their higher self feels about you: Words, Activity, Past, 9th house, Throne, Eros, Cancer, Sun, 9th house, 2nd house,😬🧯🫗👏 Okay so 9th house came out twice lol there could have been a lot of spontaneity within this connection, their higher self may have seen it as something unstable or costly. I think they feel very uncertain about you, because on one hand they find you very charming, but also difficult to manage.😳 Some of you could be cancer sun or cancer placements. They see you as someone very soft and sensitive, with the cup spilling their higher self sees you as someone with many emotions.😢💗 They could feel like you are too giving, which is a reflection of their own fear of giving too much. You appear very different from them at first glance, but you both share similarities aswell.👥️ Your person's higher self has an admiration for your sensual beauty and they kinda put you on a pedestal tbh😏👑💞 They feel very drawn to your sweet and calming aura, they also feel you are someone of very high worth. You feel precious to them, and they would pay anything for you if you had a price tag😭🏷💖 Their higher self knows how much you care about this connection and that really touches their heart.🫶 But I think the thing is, they are quick to defuse these feelings you give them. And they prefer to keep a distance from it, mostly because their higher self does not want to pour their heart out more than they should. They are very cautious and considering the possible outcomes from these feelings.💭 Ah but the things you say really turn them on honestly😩❤️‍🔥 Their higher self is really good at resisting, but it seems like you make them waver. You're like that really expensive and high quality item on sale that they can't ignore.😘 I love that they see you as something precious, because this pile is represented by the pearl!⚪️💕✨️ I think if there was an unpleasant situation in the past, they have worked past it with you. Their higher self feels a little bad, because you may give so much of your energy and they wish to give you the same in return. They want to pay you back for your love and/or kindness to them.💗🔙 Their higher self almost feels like a charity case to you, and may feel bad if you pity them ever or from caring about them for whatever reason. You radiate a beautiful soft aura and it definitely has them curious.💭 Your person's higher self feels inclined to treat you like royalty, they think you're really classy😉✨️ I think they see you as a loyal and kind person, and feel drawn to you physically as well as emotionally. They may worry about their power or status if they fall for you too much, afraid of letting their guard down for someone. They have a lot of respect for you, I'm picturing them slowly clapping for you like a sophisticated individual at a classy event.👌🥂✨️ Their higher self feels as you are on the same status as them, and that makes them both intrigued and concerned. They are uneasy with someone matching their level, and they may not know how to approach you. They're worried that their superior presence won't phase you.😧🙊 You are just so valuable to them, admirable and lovely💞💕💗
💌Messages from them: Things didn't go as planned, I can't hide it from you, I don't want to decieve you, You make me mad, I wish I could, I wish I could stop thinking if you, I would kill for you, You're wrong (Haha things didn't go as planned and yeah they're such a planner like mentioned before so this is just freaking them out😭 They have a knack for investing and they do NOT wanna miss out on a limited deal which is pile 3!!!😍💓 They could be at a loss for words or repeating themselves a lot, because they are just so stuck on this situation🥺💭) Extra cards: Ability, Tongue, Beginning, Let go, Intense, Aquarius, Aries, North node, Eros (Ohh we really have some spicy energy here. Intense passion and aggression from your person.🥵 Not that type of reading but you can head over to one of my spicy pacs for that!!!🫢)
Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🌊🩷
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the pearl emoji~⚪️ (actually just a white orb lol) Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💞
Pile 4🐋
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Sign energy: Restaurant, Childhood, Acceptance, February, Last, Earth, 1st house, Pisces, Air, Water, North node, 4th house, 10th house, South node, Saturn,🆓️🤷‍♂️🏖☀️
🩷Your person's energy: There is a lot of summer/beach vibes in this pile! Your person has a lot of bright vibes🥰 This could be someone some of you know from childhood, but I think your person's past is significant to their personality. They could be born in february or that is a significant month, signs that came out are Pisces, Cancer and Capricorn. Air, earth and water sign energy, there is also sun symbolism so Leo placements are also possible. They could have saturn in 4th house, pisces in 10th house, or earth rising. They could live in a coastal region, or interested in those locations.🏝🛶💗 Your person may not have the best self esteem, they also don't have a very solid reputation. They could own a restaurant or love to eat out.🥗 For many of my pile 4's this is a water sun, but not for everyone in this pile. They could have bad a strict or limiting childhood, I'm hearing "lack of freedom"😭 Your person is on the inside artistic and sensitive but they may have restricted that behavior from themselves when they were younger. Maybe they couldn't really express themselves to their family.😢👤🚫 They don't have confidence in their identity because of how they grew up, they could have felt unaccepted or unacknowledged for the real them. I think they have become so positive and bright despite the odds!🥺💞 This person could be from an island, also I am really getting heavy hawaii energy from this pile lol that may resonate for some here😂💫 This person is often confused and feels like they lack direction. They hide their feelings. They may have not had enough stability when they were younger, so that is something they are working towards having themselves.🥹 They have such a comforting and welcoming presence about them, but it doesn't come for free I'm hearing. This person may be hesitant to easily trusting anyone, they really have to make sure you are a safe person. Because they can be taken advantage of if they aren't careful😭🫂 I feel like people never believed in them enough! They are so sweet and have so much to offer, they are a hidden gem💎💕 For some of my pile 4's this person acts oblivious, or just doesn't notice things much. They could be a bit childish, or wish they could be like a kid again. They are very funloving🌟 I feel like this person is just sort of stumbling through life trying to find their place and where they belong🥺💗
💎How their higher self feels about you: Zoo, Prince, 7th house, Happiness, Consume, 6th house, 1st house, Jupiter, 5th house, Fire,🍫🛫♑️🥗 OHH pile 4 you are in for a wonderful surprise!!! (Unless you already know it😉) Your person's higher self sees you as a romantic partner, you literally bring them a ton of happiness like it's in the cards!😍💓 This is so sweet, you make them feel better instantly. There is so much love and passion for you, their higher self feels like you are so nice and dependable, you are a stable source of happiness for them🥺❤️ Also their higher self feels like this is a very healthy connection you two share, you are nothing but good for them! They think you're so sweet, and also consumable😳 I won't go into detail since it's not that type of reading BUT, let's just say there is a lot of physical attraction from them. They can't get enough of you❤️‍🔥 They want a taste of you y'know....😉 It's kinda naughty of them. Besides that! Their higher self feels like you complete them, you make them wild honestly. They feel so lucky that you exist, and wanna work so hard for you😫✊️ Their higher self feels so much passion and romantic feelings for you, their emotions just off like a flight.✈️ They may want to travel with you. Pile 4 you make them smile so much omg it's so cute💗!!! Their higher self thinks and even overthinks about being in a relationship with you, there is such an urge to date you. You make them feel looked at as something worthy, also they really want what's best for you. You are so sweet to them, and they are just so charmed by you😭❤️‍🔥 I'm hearing "fly away with me" they wanna go so far with you. Another thing I'm seeing is your person really wants to eat out with you😆🥪🍵 They wish to experience so much with you guys, like they wanna make sure you're theirs too💍😭🩷 All they want is to see you smile. The may want to visit a zoo with you aswell, I see many fun trips they wanna take you on🥰 Their higher self sees you as their person, they think you're so pretty and lovely. They would do anything to make you happy that is WHAT IM HEARING😭💗
💌Messages from them: Would I be asking for too much? Think of the things that make you happy, You'll do anything, I want to please you, Your eyes are beautiful, You will find happiness, You should smile more, I am your future (Omg🥰😍💞 Pile 4 they love your smile, honestly there is so much love in this pile it is so sweet!😭) Extra cards: Cage, Matching, Bad habit, Past, Comfort zone, Gemini, North node, 9th house, 10th house, Earth (They feel like you guys just FIT together, and you literally heal wounds from their past, you make them feel so safe pile 4 their higher self absolutely loves you with all their heart.🫂)
Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🌊🩷
I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the whale emoji~🐋 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💞
Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸
Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3
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11cupids-tarot11 · 6 months ago
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What has your future spouse been dreaming about lately?
For the divine feminine seeking the divine masculine •°. *࿐
1 -> 4
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Pile 1- The Chariot, Two of Swords, The Hanged Man
I'm getting the feeling your spouse really wants to make a move on you! He's dreaming about what it's like to be all in your space, he really wants to know what you're like. I was thinking at first that maybe he wants to spend time with you and know what it would be like to do mundane things with you like grocery shopping, but I think this guy is more curious than that. I think he wants to know just about you in general and what you like doing, he's the type to watch what you pick up and glance at during shopping just to get a feel of what you like. He wants to know your schedule, how your day went, he'll probably ask this a lot.
I feel like this person has a crush on you? He feels kinda stuck, like the hanged man lol. I'm not sure the circumstances or the dynamic of the relationship/how you'll come together but it surely feels like this person is very secretive with his thoughts of you, like he's very open telling me but he's scared to tell you? Like maybe this is someone you know of and you guys are friends and they're secretly crushing lol, that was very specific so it's okay if it doesn't resonate with everyone. This could also be a secret admirer for some.
But he's dreaming about changing something with you, planting roots and something stable. I'm not sure what the change will be, but I am seeing him thinking of different approaches to overcome whatever hardship is happening between you two, it could also be something on their end like maybe shadow work still needs to be done or they're still dealing with a karmic relationship of some sort.
It seems to me like they're sorting through everything, they might fantasize about things finally coming to an end and being able to start something with you. I know as soon as this is finished they're spreading towards you. I think they really just want you to know they're still coming? I got this rush feeling, like an adrenaline rush feeling? I think this person just wants you to know they're still clearing through some things! "Just hang in a little longer!" I'm hearing with a cute little smiley face ☺️. Your person is adorable! I think they love acts of service too!
I think if this were to be a 18+ reading they'd definitely tell you about all of the things they'd love to focus on your body and needs lol.
I have to make an 18+ version of this now 😂 stay tuned!
Don't forget to do the poll below! Talk again soon!!
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
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Pile 2- Six of Coins, Eight of Swords in reverse, The moon, Temperance, Ten of Cups.
Your person dreams about spoiling you, pampering you, taking you out on really fancy dates (plus showing you off 😵‍💫) just treating you like you are their everything. I hear it's because you are their everything! They adore you so much!
This person talks a lot too and wanted to pull extra cards when I usually only do a three card pull spread lol.
This card makes me feel like your person kinda feels like a spider stuck in it's own web right now, they're really in their head :( I getting your person has a negative mindset? For some of you it could be specific as they feel like they're not on the same level as you whatever that might mean to them. They dream about cutting out of their web, I think for the benefit of the connection really but also for their piece of mind, yk?
Maybe this person feels like they have to achieve a certain amount of wealth before they come to you, which goes hand in hand what I was saying about really wanting to spoil you lol they want to save up a bunch so they can have a great future with you and for those of you who want children they also want to build a family for you so of course they want to save for this too.
They dream about having a steady home with you, I think they like to fantasize about your future a lot lol. They say it won't be perfect but it'll be the definition of love like a real family should be lol. They want a balance with you, they're also the type to be very balanced in a relationship, they'll balance work and you at the same time. I honestly get the vibe that's why they're working so hard right now, so they can spend the rest of their time with you more!
I think this person dreams about the day you two unite! With the ten of cups I feel they dream about a happy home with you a lot, but also a happy relationship. I can guarantee this relationship will be very fulfilling and healing and loving. Their energy feels so excited to meet you if you guys haven't already, a healthy and loving relationship could be something they've always wished for so this is a wish fulfillment for them, they can't wait to experience real love with you. 🩵 The color blue might be specific for a few of you?
Don't forget to do the poll below! Talk to you soon love :))
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
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Pile 3- Knight of Coins, Justice (clarification cards- Death, and Strength), Two of Wands, Seven of Cups (clarification cards- Ten of Cups), and King of Swords (clarification cards- Knight of Wands)
I needed so much clarification for this group xD
Every time I look at the ducks eyes they always look so full of administration, anyone else see it? It's adorable. I channeled right away your person will adore you like this picture so I chose it!
I heard they think about this every day straight away lol.
Your future spouse fantasizes about putting hard work into you, really showing up for you I'm feeling. Like I feel like it's deeper than a materialistic matter, I feel like he really wants to support you emotionally. He doesn't want to be your therapist or anything it's like he just wants to make sure you're okay, he really cares about your well being. A better way to put this is that they really want to show up as a man in your life, one that doesn't have a toxic sense of masculinity and really respects women and wants to understand your needs, wants and boundaries I'm hearing. He likes to solve your problems because your problems are his problems.
He's dreaming about justice in a situation, I'm going to pull clarification cards for the Justice card to help understand a bit better because I want to know possibly in what situation, I can't figure that out on my own I'm not hearing much channeling on this card. The clarification cards just are making me feel it's probably a too personal situation they don't want me to know about, but maybe when you meet this person you will know because it's making me feel like it's linked to you, he probably doesn't want you to understand much either right now but he says he's working hard on getting justice in a situation he really wants to come to an end soon, I think when it's over it'll bring a lot of happiness, a shift in energy, a really big change :) He wants you to encourage him to be strong as he encourages you, it's a very tough situation maybe? Heavy energy kind of just came through me, like a little random rush of sadness just thinking about the question so I will move on now :)
This person fantasizes about making everything perfect a lot in a way, he really likes to plan. You'll notice this about them right away lol. They probably have a hectic schedule right now I'm hearing. They're possibly planning on how to get to you? This feels like a soulmate connection, something that's just supposed to happen because it just makes so much sense because you two love each other and really care for one another. This is someone who you can spend the rest of your life with because they're confident you two are a perfect match. Very equal in the relationship which is why it would work perfectly I'm hearing. He's just doing a bunch of planning right now, lots of thinking things over and through.
He dreams about probably having a lot of money, a level of fame? Maybe he's a celebrity or wants to be, he could be very creative and expensive. He dreams a lot very dreamy they could have water in their chart, they do feel emotional. They're so cute 😭
This person dreams about picking a path and advancing in it basically, they really want to be the boss, be at the top of their game whatever career or field it might be. They want a lot of abundance! They fantasize about being given an opportunity to present themselves, show off maybe. They could be a really good singer/rapper or some kind of performer. They could play an instrument.
I feel like they really want to settle down with you for sure though, they want to offer you a lot as well so they work really hard to show up financially, they could've grown up in poverty I'm hearing a specific message for some of you so being financially stable is everything for them. They want you right by their side ;)
This person was kinda hard to read but I think that's cause how dreamy they felt, thoughts kinda bouncing around everywhere haha, so take this how it resonates with you!
Don't forget to do the poll below!! Talk to you soon!
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
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Pile 4- Seven of Coins, The Magician (clarification cards- Three of wands), Seven of Wands (clarification cards- Death and Queen of Swords)
This person wants to start off with the seven of wands first even though it was the last card to be pulled lol.
They want to maybe draw attention to dreaming about fighting for something? They are very protective and will stand their ground and fight for what's theirs. I can't really tell, so I'm going to ask for clarification ;) I don't know why but I feel like they want to sabotage a relationship between you and someone else? I feel like they fantasize about this a lot! I feel like your energy is the Queen of wands but you don't really see this person! This could be a clue your future spouse is someone you already know!
They dream about making you theirs lol stealing you away. 😋
So with that, they're also dreaming about the future with you! Working on their finances as well, but also thinking about what it would be like in the future with you. This person feels like they're confident they will have a future with you lol. Maybe they're not making a move right now because they want to build up their finances more for the long run with you, because when they do make a move on you they plan to commit deeply and I'm hearing they fell hard for you, and you possibly don't even know it 😵‍💫.
😭 🩷 you probably drive this person crazy lmao
He's probably manifesting you lol?
I asked for clarification for the magician as well and it just makes me think he's really brainstorming a lot right now? I think every pile had a lot of thinking in them but never really being too specific on what and I'm always left with so much quietness so I'm left in the dark😭
They're just really thinking a lot which makes me think it's only about you. They seem shy, they could be younger than you? They seem like they're too scared to tell you how they really feel. Could be scared of rejection? But they really do fantasize about you a lot! They think about you constantly and different ways to impress you, how to get your attention. They really want you my pile 4's and they're fighting hard hehe. They won't back down either!
They think you're very pretty, like the bunny in the picture 😻. Hehe cute.
They might call you princess a lot, or other cute little pet names. They feel very affectionate, they have a lot of love to give! This person isn't someone to be scared of, they do care about you! It's not all about lust, there's love here as well as admiration! They do adore you!
Don't forget to do the poll below!! Talk again soon love!!
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
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itsagoodluckkiss · 5 months ago
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Hi, I wanted to make a request about Luffy x female reader. The reader is feminine but clumsy, emotionally-reserved, unexperienced and kind-hearted. Smart and funny, with a soft spot for Luffy. . As for the plot, "she fell first, but he fell harder", slice of life with a little angst would be perfect. I'm desperate for fanfiction about first experience in everything kinda stuff. I'm not a minor, so it would be very good to see some sensual and awkward smut. I would be glad to read anything you'll write about Luffy x female!reader and I hope that you liked my request (^o^)/ sorry for bad english
It's Okay ~ Luffy x F!Reader
First of all, thank you for being my first request, you made me really happy and I'm really sorry for the really long wait, we had a really rough couple of months. Also, it's the first smut I've ever written so read this with patience. English is not my first language either and I'm sorry for any mistakes. Anyways, I had fun writing this, I hope you'll like it, lots of love!
Words: +3k
Warnings: hurt/comfort, op spoilers, ptsd, mentions of character death, comfort sex, smut with plot, oral (f!receiving), virginity loss (both), unprotected sex, cockwarming, fluffy ending kinda?, no use of Y/N
MDNI
Quiet days on The Thousand Sunny were as rare as mythical zoans. Not only because of dangerous encounters but also because of how calm the whole crew was today. Even your walking ray of sunshine captain was not as wild as usual. But you couldn’t really complain as you could focus on your task in silence.
The tailor of the crew, responsible of sewing, stitching and mending every piece of fabric on the ship. And that included the sails. Strong winds the night before managed a large tear and the next island was a couple of days away. So you had a job to do. Standing on a rope ladder, you effortlessly worked through the sails with elegance. Every piece of fabric in your home deserved care, as you’d always say when you mended the torn up clothes of your crew mates.
You were proud you could provide your family with loved and cared clothes and everything else they needed, top priority along with the dream of becoming the best tailor the seas had ever seen. Your mind wandered away to the smile of your captain every time you placed the fixed straw hat you came to love so much on his head, while you automatically repaired the sail. But your gracefulness started and ended at the needle in your hand.
Looking away into the sea for one second resulted in you prickling your finger. The sudden feeling caused you to lose your step and balance and you yelped as you fell from the ladder, expecting a hard fall and a trip to Chopper’s infirmary. But the land never came, arms wrapping around your frame, drawing you to somebody’s embrace. In fear, you wrapped yourself around your savior’s waist like a koala, your flower patterned dress coming up slightly. Your face went to the crook of his neck for one second, immediately recognizing who it was, and you raised your head to look at him in embarrassment.
“Hi there!”
“Luffy, thank you, I’m so sorry!”
“It’s alright. Was on my way to check if you needed help. Guess I was right.” he said laughing.
You smiled and hugged him tightly as he put you down on the deck. You were embarrassed, part of it because of your own clumsiness, another part because of the way Luffy’s hands lingered on your waist before letting you go.
“Are you almost done? Picked up a new card game from the last island and I want to play with you.”
“Oh, ah, I, I still have some, some work to do...?”
You didn’t. You also didn’t know why you said that. You said a lot of stupid stuff lately. You loved spending time with your captain, especially when you knew there wouldn’t be a crazy fight following you in a few hours. Falling in love with his brown eyes, his goofy and brave personality and his loyalty to his friends was the reason you said yes to joining the Straw Hats after you helped them save Robin in Ennies Lobby.
But ever since you returned to Sabaody, it’s gotten harder to contain the feelings for your first love. The other night while you two were keeping watch and talking about things you loved, an “I love you” escaped your lips without thinking, proceeding to an inept attempt to cover it by saying how you loved he is such a loyal friend. You felt the blush rushing to your cheeks as you looked again on his face and noticed something you were seeing more and more these days. His trademark smile was reduced to a small upward line and in his eyes there was a gleam of sadness. You couldn’t have that.
“It’s fine, I’ll see you around later I guess-”
“On another note, I can always finish it later. Let’s go play, Captain!”
And you grabbed his arm, running like a child playing chase across the deck toward Nami’s tangerine trees, laughing as you tripped on your two left feet, Luffy holding you upwards and laughing in the process, always there to catch you.
~
The ship was in motion, light rain falling from the night sky as Luffy found himself walking aimlessly on the empty deck. His black hair tousled, his straw hat dangling from the string around his neck, his posture slumped, trying to find some sort of relief in the breeze that hit his face. His trembling hands grip the railing, his gaze lost towards the vast ocean, unable to back focus on anything but his most recent nightmare. Memories of Ace's death spreading, like poison in his veins, once again. He tried to steady his breathing but failed as hot tears run down his cheeks, silent sobs leaving his body, trying not to wake up his crew. He hadn’t talked to anyone about Marineford. There was no reason for his friends to see him in that weakened state. He could tell that everyone felt guilty because they weren’t there for him, he didn’t want to feed that ugly feeling inside them.
You felt restless, worry prickling your skin like a hundred needles at once. Sleep wouldn’t do you a favor so you hoped off bed to get some fresh air on the deck and some moments of peace to think. Luffy’s sad eyes lingered in your thoughts. You couldn’t help but think about how much he had changed since you first met. You remembered the scrawny, eager, brave boy he was. Now his hair was longer and spikier, and he looked stronger than ever before, he was almost a man. Despite his carefree looks, a lot had changed about him. Yes, he was still as eager and resilient and determinated as ever, yet more mature, as much as maturity applied to him. And that big scar across his chest was the only testament of the fight he gave alone two years ago, as he hadn't talked to any of you about it. Not that he had to. You all knew you would wholeheartedly give him the support in any form he’d need. You’d do what you knew best. Take care of the people you loved. And from the moment you joined the crew, you knew your heart belonged to the straw hat captain.
You spotted Luffy in the front of the ship. It was unusual for him to be up and alone this late at night. Your eyes filled with concern, you walked closer to him as you noticed the trembling in his form, worry rising in your chest. Your hand caressing his shoulder slightly, you didn’t want to scare him or make him feel worse.
"Luffy?" you asked softly, voice barely audible over the wind.
Luffy wiped his tear streaked face quickly and tried to control his heavy breathing, wanting to be like his usual self, even if he knew it was too late for acting.
“I…”
He took a deep breath trying to hold it all in. He was the one that was supposed to help people through their crying and problems, to protect them. He couldn’t protect his friends in Sabaody, he couldn’t save his brother. He swore he’d never let anything like those things happen again. He didn’t want to be seen as weak. Not again. Not in front of his crew. Not in front of you.
“It’s okay, Luffy.”
His eyes met yours, a warm and safe gaze, always inviting and full of love, ready to be a place of comfort and joy to anyone that needed it. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder and back, taking him in a comforting embrace. His arms went immediately around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as silent sobs left him once again. He hugged you tightly, hyperventilating as he let every last feeling of grief and pain out. You felt your eyes well too, the pain your favorite person carried alone enough to make you want to scream.
“It’s okay… you’re okay… it wasn’t your fault…”
“I couldn’t… I thought you… were all dead… and… I was right there… I couldn’t save him… he left… in my arms… it should have been me!”
Your heart ached listening to Luffy's sobs, tears running down your face as well. You pulled back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, and looked into his red, puffy eyes.
“Listen to me! Don’t say that again, ever! We all know you’d never let us down. You did everything you could, Luffy, you always do, and it’s enough for us." You said, voice shaking, carrying all the sincerity in the world. "And you always were there for him. You gave everything you had! He loved you so much and you saved him because you showed him how loved and cherished he was! You're still doing everything you can to keep his memory alive. That's what he would want! Don’t do this to yourself, please.”
You wiped the tears off his face and squeezed his cheeks like you usually did when you shared food and laughs together, managing to drag out a small smile from the boy.
“How about we go grab some tea and biscuits from the kitchen before Sanji comes down from his watch and go to my room?” you suggested, knowing Luffy would never say no to food.
“It’s on!”
Stealth wasn’t your strongest suit as you somehow always managed to hit on something. And with Luffy beside you, havoc was almost always certain. Getting out of the kitchen as fast as you could, before Sanji’s yells could reach you, you run into the ship, down to your handicraft’s room. The warmth of the cabin enveloped Luffy, feeling a little more like his usual self now, as he took in the room. That’s were all your great works laid, with needles, threads and sewing machines all over the place. From clothes and blankets to large embroideries hanging from the walls. You laid a soft, fluffy blanket on the ground to sit on. You sipped your scolding tea as Luffy munched on a cookie, taking in your works.
“I don’t know how you can make beautiful things like these.”
“I’ve practiced it a lot. And I love it. I’m glad you like it, Captain.”
You smiled widely, gaining a toothy grin from him.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For always being here.”
You were thinking your next words for a moment before moving the cups and plate from the blanket, taking his shoulders gently as you both laid on the ground, your eyes looking at each other, taking his hand into yours.
“It's alright to not be fine, you know… I'll always be here for you, no matter what.”
“It’s… I’m not thinking about it most of the time… I just have nightmares… it’s hard sometimes.”
“And that’s completely logical, Luffy, you’ve been through hell! I collapsed when I heard the news and couldn’t be with you. I would have run to you if I could. I love you so much and I’m sorry I wasn’t there and…”
You were the one tearing up now, cheeks red from embarrassment as the words slipped through your mouth without thinking. You knew Luffy would be shattered when you heard about Ace. The only thing you wanted was to hug him until you pulled all his pieces back together. He met your gaze. Luffy was never interested in romance. He didn’t thought he needed it. Until he met you and for the first time, he wanted someone to join his crew not only because he wanted them as a friend and they’d be a great addition, but because he felt something different, something he couldn’t quite understand. The only thing he knew was that he loved you a little differently than the rest of his friends. It was his turn to brush the tears off your face now and you melted from his touch. You tried to speak but before you could, his hand, warm and slightly trembling, cup your cheek. His lips pressed into yours, just for a moment, before drawing back only inches from your face.
“I think I love you too.”
Your eyes widened in surprise, heart pounding against your ribs. Never had you thought you’d hear those words from Luffy. Of course, you knew he loved everyone in the crew, but this felt different. You felt like you would burst into flames as you blushed even more.
“You, you do?!”
“Yeah… you’re sweet and strong… always by my side… you’re very important to me…”
You let out a gasp of surprise as you hugged him tightly and crushed your lips into his clumsily, both of you laughing at your enthusiasm. Small, sweet kisses evolved into longer, more passionately ones and soon you were underneath him, his hands caressing your thigh beneath your dress, your hands slowly pushing his vest off of him.
“Are you okay?”
“I am, you?”
“Me too.”
Soon, your clothes landed somewhere else in the room as you felt him caressing your skin everywhere and you gasped into the kiss, him taking advantage of your parted lips to push his tongue into your mouth, tangling it messily with yours. His lips travelled down your neck and lower, soon to be between your legs. A feeling of self-consciousness crept over you as you closed your legs and he smiled up at you as he caressed your thigh.
“Hey, it’s okay, we can stop if you want.”
“No, I want this, I’ve just… never do this before…”
“Neither do I. We’ll find it together. But I want you to be comfortable. You can stop me if you don’t feel okay.”
You smile down at him and relaxed a bit, allowing him to spread your legs and start kissing the inside of your thighs. It felt so good to share another experience with him, and his touch was gentler than you thought it would be. He positioned your thighs on his shoulders and before you could react, his mouth was on you, his tongue licking a stripe before latching onto your clit. Your head fell back immediately as a choked out moan slipped through your mouth, one hand flying to his hair, pulling on his locks gently as the other grasped the blanket beneath you. His eyes were on you, his look was magnetic and focused on the task of making you feel good. A finger circling your tight hole, it pushed inside you slowly as he sucked on your clit, making you whimper from the pleasurable feeling. The stretching inside you new and welcomed, a combination of his mouth and a second finger breaching in has your orgasm approaching faster than you expected. He curled his fingers upwards, hitting repeatedly a spot you had never reached before on your own and it pushed you over the edge unexpectedly. He smiles against you as small moans left your mouth, your whole body shaking, your head spinning.
Coming down from your high, he crawls back on top of you and kisses you passionately, your tongues intertwining. You can taste yourself through the kiss, and it makes you long for more. He breaks the kiss and smiles down at you.
“How was that?”
“Luffy, it was… amazing. How did you know-”
“Didn’t. Just did what felt right. Are you okay to continue?”
You nodded eagerly and he grinned at you, his lips back on yours again. Your hand sneaks between your bodies to grab his dick, gently pumping him up and down, bringing him close to your folds. He moans into the kiss and swats your hand away, gliding himself between your now soaked pussy, his tip touching your clit every time, sending small jolts of pleasure down your spine. He breaks the kiss, his face only inches apart from yours, staring into your eyes.
“You’re sure?”, he whispered.
“Yes captain, please…”
A shiver run through his body as he hears your plead, and he moves his tip against your entrance, pushing in. A small gasp escape you and a sharp hiss leaves his mouth as he slowly slides into you, his movements awkward but gentle, the feeling of your warmth around him making him slightly tremble as he bottoms out. It felt slightly uncomfortable for you at first but the pain you expected to feel was nowhere to be found. His lips were on your neck, nibbling and sucking gently while his arms roamed your body, trying to make you relax as he stayed still, waiting for you to adjust to him. A few moments passed and your hand cupped his chin, bringing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.
“Feels better now?”
“Yes, Luffy… please, move…”
He smiled down at you and placed another soft kiss on your lips as he began to move, taking it slow and tender, setting a rhythm that made you gasp, the pleasure spreading over you. One of his hands on yours, intertwining your fingers as the other grabbed your thigh to keep you against him, his forehead on yours, eyes closed as you both relished the feeling of your bodies pressed together. His speed picked up slightly as he finds a steady rhythm and you moan his name, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close. He smiles widely and kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, your fingers running through his hair, gently tugging at his dark locks.
One hand gripped your thigh rougher now, pushing it upwards, the shift in position allowing him to go deeper, the other sneaking between your bodies to rub at your clit. Your face buries in the crook of his neck, trying to choke down your moans, the knot in your stomach tightening as his thrusts grow faster and sloppier, you feel that he’s close too.
Your lips connect again in a messy kiss and your back arches as you come undone, crying out through the kiss, your nails dragging down his back. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck, his hands grab your hips to drag you to him as he fucks you through your high, his hips stuttering, feeling your walls squeezing him tight, pushing him over the edge with you.
You stay like this for a while, hands wrapped around each other, his face buried in the crook of your neck, savoring the moment. He places a tender kiss on your cheek and turns to face you, his head on your shoulder.
“How do you feel?”
“I feel… wonderful…” you say with a sigh as you smile up at him. His hand caressing you cheek, he placed another sweet kiss before stretching his hand to grab another blanket nearby, covering the both of you. He then lies flat on top of you again, his arms wrapping around you, and closes his eyes, still inside you.
“Luff, we…”
“Can’t move, I feel snuggly right now.”
You laugh softly as you hug him back, feeling his breath slow down as he slowly falls asleep, your eyelids getting heavy as well, a content smile playing on your lips.
“Goodnight dummy…”
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luveline · 1 year ago
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hiiii not sure if your requests are open but if they aren’t just ignore this😭
imagine getting into an argument with james, sirius, and remus because you brought a stray kitten or something home and you really don’t have the room for a kitten
“but look at him🥺”
“no”
“🥺”
“… no” *less convincingly*
You hold the kitten in your hand. Remus strokes her head, her little damp ears. “It's not about that, Remus, I just couldn't leave her there, the box was falling apart and… I thought that only happened in movies.” 
Sirius leans forward on his knees to give the kitten a stroke of his own. “She's lovely,” he murmurs, scratching under her chin and grinning when she moves into it for more. “It's too bad the flat's so small. Otherwise we could keep her.” 
She's tortoise shell with a white half circle around her mouth, eyes squinted closed as she shivers. You've wrapped her in a tea towel like a blanket. She is, without a doubt, that cutest and saddest creature you've ever seen. “Where is she supposed to go, Siri?” you ask gently. 
“People love cats.” Sirius puts his hand on Remus' thigh casually, giving it a loving squeeze as he settles in. “Everybody wants a kitten.” 
But not everyone will be nice to a kitten. She feels like your responsibility now; how can you leave her? She's burrowed into you from the moment you picked her up, shushing and murmuring, your knees sodden in the puddle of rainwater beneath you both. 
“We have to keep her, please,” you say. 
There's a mutual surprise. “Dove, we can't,” Remus says. “The bathroom barely fits the toilet, shower, and sink, we'd never be able to have a litter box.” 
“It wouldn't be fair,” Sirius agrees, “on us or the kitten, she'd have no room once she turns into a cat.” 
You bring the kitten close to your chest and show them her helpless face. “But look at her,” you say softly, widening your eyes gently, your brows bunched together in the beginnings of heartbreak. 
“No,” Remus says, shaking his head sympathetically. 
You frown at him and Sirius in turn, your bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly. 
“No,” he says again, sounding unsure. 
Sirius rubs his leg. “Stay strong, my love.” 
“There's just not enough room.” 
You fear you may be losing this battle, and if they really don't want a cat, maybe you shouldn't force them. But then your trump card comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his neck, shirtless, grey joggers low on his hips, and you know you still have a chance. 
“Wow, Jamie,” you say, not having to act very much to give your voice a hoarse rasp, “you might need to shower again.” 
His smile is magnetic. “Yeah?” he asks, immediately delighted by such a brazen comment. “How's the little sweetheart? Reckon we can leave her alone?” 
“She's cold still,” you say.
James visibly melts at your sad tone, while Remus rolls his eyes. “She's just trying to get you on her side, James. I've said we can't keep the cat and she's–” 
“Taking advantage of her feminine wiles?” Sirius suggests. 
“Cheating,” Remus finishes. 
James leans over the back of the sofa between your head and Remus to kiss behind your ear, a brief press of the lips. “Why should I care? Doesn't she deserve her own way?” 
“It's not as though I'm lying,” you say guiltily. 
James laughs and kisses your jaw. You bring your shoulder up to your chin and flush with heat at such a simple thing, trying your hardest not to jostle the kitten in your hand as he wraps an arm around your front, resting his face against yours. The wet curls of his hair are cold on your skin, and the straight line of his jaw digs in. “I know,” he says. 
“Catch on, Jamie,” Remus says. 
“Shan't, won't.” Another kiss to your cheek. 
“Please, Remus, I promise if you don't want her then I won't make you, but if it's about room, of course there's enough. The four of us manage to squeeze in, don't we?” You lean into James’ embrace, eyes melty-soft. You're practically batting your eyelashes at him. 
Sirius flops into Remus’ lap with a resigned sigh. “If you don't say yes, I will anyway. Look at her.” 
You don't know if he means the kitten or you, but you choose to believe it's you he's complimenting, and you react accordingly, your little smile pushing Remus completely over the edge. 
He sighs. “Yes, alright. Fine.” 
You pass James the little warm parcel of fur and use your freshly emptied hands to grab Remus by both arms. “Thank you! Aw, thank you, Remus. Sirius. I'll be so absolutely clean and if it does seem too small I promise, I won't make anyone suffer.” 
“I never thought you would,” he says. “If you really want to keep her, I can't stop you. I'm your boyfriend, not a prison warden.” 
“Well, we share a home–” 
“I know,” he says warmly, “it's alright. Keep your kitten, dove. Looks like you've found her for a reason.” 
You laugh happily and gather him up for a hug. “Oh, I love you.” 
“What shall we name her?” Sirius asks around you. 
“I'm not fussed. What do you like?” James asks. 
Sirius meets your eyes as you and Remus pull apart. “You always get your way, hmm? Why don't you name her?” 
Oh, you could hug him to death too. He looks comfortable where he is, his face on Remus thigh, hair fanned out over his joggers, and you don't want to disturb him (he's not quite as tactile as the others), so you stroke a curl from his cheek and offer him a cheeky smile. “Don't you have any ideas?” you ask. 
“About you, or the cat?” 
You laugh at his teasing. “Which one do you think?” 
Remus nudges you in the ribs. “Don't start. If we're keeping your cat, we need to go out, don't we? You'll have to go get dressed again.”
You give them all a glowing smile and clamber off of the sofa to find your shoes. 
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nyctoaerah · 3 months ago
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Yandere!Limerence!Giyuu Hc's pls? Both nsfw and sfw<3 your writing is so good btw! I'm inlove with limerence🤍🤍 sorry if it's not specific enough 🥹 I just can't get enough of giyuu<3
⋆♱⋆IN LIMERENCE
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Warnings: Yandere Behaviors, Loads of Manipulation and Gaslighting, Stalking, Nsfw in the end, tiny bit of somno at the end. MDNI
Pairings: Yandere! Giyuu Tomioka x Fem! Androphobic Reader
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The moment that Giyuu finds out about your fear of men, he resorts to an act of shame: He pretended to be a girl, knowing full well how deeply traumatized you are by your male comrades—hell you’re even afraid of your own mentor — Uzui, so who’s to say that you wouldn’t be scared of him if you find out that he’s a male?
So In an act of desperation, he lowers himself so low, because he doesn’t want you to hate him, reasoning with himself that you already see him as a girl anyway, like, his pronouns suddenly turns from he/him to she/her whenever you’re near, not only that, he makes sure to make his voice as soft and as feminine as possible whenever you’re near, after all, he can’t have his pretty darling afraid of him now, can he?
He doesn’t mind wearing makeup or lipstick as long as it doesn’t jeopardize his cover. The other Hashiras were beginning to question whether Giyuu was transgender, and while this wounded his pride, his primary desire for you to be comfortable with him was more stronger than the shame he’s feeling.
He gets jealous whenever you’re near Mitsuri and Shinobu, because he knew damn well that those two girls obviously has feelings for you and they have a lot of chance with you, considering your androphobia — and the fact that there’s a 70% chance that you might be a girl kisser.
He doesn’t like the fact that the two girls, Especially mitsuri — who wasn’t afraid of showing her feelings for you, always hugging you and bombarding you with compliments. Because honestly, what’s the point of having those two girls around when you can have him instead?
He showers you with gifts and often treats you to outings, but truthfully? Those are just his ploys to isolate you from everyone else, after all, he craves your presence and has already sunk to great lows for you; and he definitely won’t let you slip away from his fingers.
He would always stalk you, so he would eventually find out the things that you liked, the things that makes you tick, your fear, and other stuff, and he uses it to his own advantage — especially your androphobia, saying things about the other hashiras, especially the male ones, about how they treat him so bad, and how they make him feel like an outcast. And honestly? you’ll have a hard time trying to find out whether he’s being genuine or not, because it was very obvious that the other hashiras dislikes him. The fact that he’s such a soft-spoken manipulator doesn’t help either
He’s totally into it when you play with his hair; it’s like his personal spa day, He’ll plop his head on your lap like it’s a throne, soaking up your ramblings like they’re the latest gossip,
Here’s where it gets a tad too cozy: whenever you’re yapping about the mysteries of the universe, and there he is, lounging on your lap, His fingers would start their little expedition up your thigh, but don’t worry, he’s a gentleman—he’ll halt if you give him a swat or tell him to stop. But if you let him continue? Well, let’s just say that’s a one-way ticket to a very different conversation.
Giyuu really loves pleasuring you with his fingers and mouth, his fingers would drill deep into your dripping pussy, while he whispers sweet nothings into your ears while he fingers you. Yet, beneath this guise of sweetness, a hidden agenda brews. He hopes—prays—that the intensity of your ecstasy will render you oblivious to the prominent bulge that would always tent his pants, whenever he would get the chance to get in your pants.
He totally shuts you down when it comes to him getting any pleasure, like, no way! If you did, you’d realize he’s definitely a guy, not a girl! So, it’s mostly him just giving you some action. Deep down, he’s kinda happy you’re not sexually active and just goes with the flow. And Honestly? He probably thinks you’re asexual. But man, when he gets all worked up and his cock starts leaking and getting painfully hard, he just ends up taking care of it himself. Sometimes, though, when you’re snoozing, he can’t help but use your hand to get himself off instead.
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©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝.
𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡
𝐀/𝐍: WOAHHH, this is the first time i got asked for hc’s on one of my books😭😭 so this is actually pretty unique LOL. Anyways, this hc’s is based of my book: Limerence. It’s a yandere!kny book and it’s a harem — it’s why mitsuri and shinobu r said to have feelings for you:) you can go check it out on my wattpad! It’s the rewritten version, but if you read the quotev version (the previous one) it’ll make sense why reader thinks that giyuu is a girl, since the rewritten version hasn’t reached that part yet. But i suggest that you read the rewritten version more cause the orig is cringe af LOL.
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bunni-v1 · 1 year ago
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hii,
Can i request che‘nya, neige and rollo finding out you‘re a girl please?
(Just if u weite for em)
Freaking love ur serie 😍
Side Characters Find Out You’re A Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
TW: Rollo
Info: Che’nya, Niege, and Rollo x Reader
🍓Thank you! I'm glad people enjoyed this series so much, it was very fun to write. This is the last part I'm afraid, but I hope it is a fitting goodbye to what has been a very long-running series now lol. Excited to move on to other things!
Tags: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck @squidsailing
Che’nya
-Oooooo, Che’nya knows something is up the moment he (creepily) stalks you and the others from the garden.
-His sniffer isn’t as good as Leona’s — he’s just a tomcat, after all — but he can smell that something about you isn’t right.
-Plus, he’s a master of bending the truth, he can see through your lie a mile away.
-Still, he has no reason to bother you about it — he doesn’t even know you. 
-He just thinks you’re a little funny that you’d hide something as pointless as this.
-Doesn’t really have confirmation on it until he asks Cater at the tea party.
-Then he later asks Trey who is like ‘Yeahhhhh…’
-Again, he doesn’t really know you, but he does think you’re cute and stuff.
-He sees your around when he sneaks on campus, and he was happy to bump into you at the VDC.
-(He scored your number there, lets go Che’nya).
-Nah, you two don’t really get to interact until Noble Bell College.
-He’s excited to see you again, and really chats you up this time (everyone there thinks its weird, he literally has no reason to talk to you).
-You’re alone with him and Niege and Grim when he drops the bombshell of “A pretty girl like you should be wearing a dress, right?”
-You don’t know if Trey or Cater or even Riddle told him, but you were gonna deck them across the face the second you found out.
-Still, despite him outing you to Niege, he’s really only mildly annoying about it.
-He teases you and picks on you about it, but he’s more like an annoying older brother than a creep.
-He will hang it over your head though, because they way you get all huffy is funny and cute to him.
Neige
-Other than Che’nya— Neige really doesn’t suspect much.
-I mean, look at him and Vil. Feminine men is not his biggest concern.
-He respects you and your pronouns and he’s a real big sweetheart.
-He is… drawn to you, just a little. 
-You’re different from the other students, and you managed to make friend with Vil, so excuse him for being a little curious.
-Despie Vil being vehemently against it, you and him exchange numbers and start talking casually.
-It’s pretty normal stuff, and it’s not like you’re talking every day, but you consider each other friends at the very least.
-You’re both very excited to see each other again at Nobel Bell College.
-Neige feels bad that you’re sort of forced to go and babysit, but he gets to see you again!
-You bump into him and Che’nya at the fesitval, and Neige is… notably weirded out by Che’nya’s overt friendliness with you.
-“He’s never this nice with people he doesn’t know — never. It’s so weird.” He tells you.
-You brush off his concerns, and you live to pay for it too.
-You and Neige were just chilling, talking, and hanging out for the first time in person and Che’nya walked over and joined the conversation.
-All is good until he drops the one-liner of a century, leaving both you and Neige in shock.
-You because how did he find out, Neige because oh my god you’re a woman.
-He feels even WORSE for you now.
-I mean, being the only woman at NRC has gotta be awful.
-He doesn’t make a big deal out of it, bless his soul.
-He just shrugs it off and also offers his room as sanctuary on the weekends if you need it. 
-He does agree with Che’nya, though, you would look very pretty in a nice flowing ballgown!
Rollo
-Bless this little freaks soul. He is about as sheltered as Malleus and about ten times more evil.
-He, somehow, knows something about you is different from the get-go. Not just your inability for magic, no something more.
-Naturally, he is drawn to you, and evermore curious about you and your life at NRC.
-He, being observant, takes note that you are treated slightly differently by your fellow classmates.
-They are generally more respectful and courteous toward you — gentlemanly in some cases.
-It only makes his interest in you grow. What is it that is so special about you? 
-Then he overhears a conversation with Niege and Che’nya, and it all makes so much sense!
-You are a woman, of course you are. No wonder you were so captivating.
-Rollo holds this card close to his chest — he needs not reveal his secrets.
-Malleus is fond of you — as are the other magicians here. That could be useful.
-This information could aid him in his ultimate plan — and he could be your savior from the beasts you live amongst. 
-He reveals that he knows your gender in front of everyone at the festival, and takes you captive as his own.
-He is so diluted in thinking that he is your saving grace, and that what he is doing is so right and justified that he can’t hear you curing him out over his own thoughts.
-Obviously, you get saved by your friends and all is well, but now a whole lot of people who shouldn’t know you are a woman do, and Crowley has to do a LOT of PR work lol.
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endlessthxxghts · 1 year ago
Text
Take It Easy
no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈10.2k
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Summary: Your family throws an impromptu barbecue. You’re usually the one they throw every task on, but with today being your most painful period day, you say fuck it and leave them to fend for themselves. Only one other guest is invited today, and that’s Joel Miller.
Warnings: Age gap (23/43). Established relationship (to everyone but reader’s family). No physical description of reader besides outfit choices. Use of feminine pet names. LATINO JOEL MILLER (he’s canon in all my fics, sorry not sorry). Fluff with slight angst - getting caught, kinda (?) - happy ending, don’t worry. This version of Joel is always soft for reader, but I feel like he’s extra soft here. These idiots are so fucking in love (highkey jealous). SMUT 18+ MDNI: If you know the traffic light system for safe words, reader uses yellow at one point - but fluff & comfort happens immediately after. Dom/sub and Brat tamer/brat dynamics (subspace!). Daddy kink. Degradation kink (very brief). Making out/body appreciation. Masturbation (F). Oral sex (M receiving). Spit kink (I'm so weak). Exhibitionist kink - reader is being bold 🫣. Face fucking. Vaginal fingering. Lots of kissing (these two definitely have some sort of oral/kiss fixation istg). Soft unprotected p in v. Reader gets a surge of dominance, soooo ya get a glimpse of sub!Joel😏…...I think that's it. Let me know if there’s anything I missed. 🫶🏼
Author's Note: This can be read as a stand-alone, but I accidentally connected this a bit more than I intended to the What You Need fic. That fic talks a lot about reader's background/family dynamic and why/how Joel is the way that he is with reader. There's also some little details in here that might fly over your head if you haven't read What You Need. However, I genuinely don't think any confusion or such will occur if you only read this one shot. I hope you'll be able to enjoy all the same. Much love 💚
MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION
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“Can you prep the veggies?”
“Can you prep the grill?”
“Can you make the rice?”
“Why don’t I make the entire fucking dinner at this point?” You snap in the direction of the kitchen from your place on the couch, wrapped in blankets, snuggled with a heat pack over your lower belly. 
“Well, if you’re offering,” your brother smirks. 
You started your period yesterday, and the second day is always the absolute worst. Your flow is heavy, your cramps are excruciating, and your mood is all over the place. Today was not the day for an impromptu barbecue, regardless if there were guests or not. 
You promptly give your brother the middle finger then pull yourself off the couch to make your way to the bathroom. You’ve filled up an entire pad, yet again, in less than 20 minutes. 
You always do everything for your family, but today, you absolutely don’t give a fuck. Today is self care day for you — popping three painkillers then heading straight to the dark of your room. 
You’re not entirely sure how long you fell asleep for, but the smell of charcoal smoke and sizzling steak is what wakes you up first. The next sensation that fills you is the sound of heavy boots walking from, what you assume to be, the back door to the kitchen. Joel. You’d know that walk anywhere. He’s taking on the tasks for your family that usually fall on your shoulders. 
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He called you this morning before everyone (including you) woke up, saying he’s excited to see you tonight. You grumbled sleepily, about to tell him you were just as excited when a searing pain ruptured in your stomach, causing you to gasp out in pain. 
“Baby?” Joel called out, “What’s wrong, honey?”
“Fuck, sorry, baby, it’s nothing,” you shyly say. He says your name. You start to explain, “I started my period yesterday, and-” but Joel cuts you off. “The second day is always the worst,” he states factually. 
You smile to yourself, “Yeah, exactly.”
He tells you to get up and get a glass of water and some medicine to ease the pain, which you do, then he tells you to let yourself sleep in today, which you don’t. 
“Fine,” he relents at your stubbornness, “but at least take it easy today, darlin’, ya hear me?”
“Loud and clear, Miller, loud and clear,” you tell him. 
You can feel his dumb fucking lopsided smirk through the phone, “Fuckin’ brat,” he snarls. 
“Mhm, but you’re fuckin’ brat,” you correct him.
“Yes. Mine.”
“Mmmm,” you let out a soft moan at that. Mine. You love the way it sounds, the way he claims you. “I love you.”
His cock twitches at the sound you make, but he wills it stay down. He takes a breath before he responds, “I love you, baby.” He can’t get ahead of himself today. He needs you to take it easy. So he tells you exactly that, again, for the last time before he ends the call and lets you take on your tasks for the day. 
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Even though the mouth-watering scent of all the delicious food has completely pulled you awake, you stay in bed a little longer, basking in the sensation of absolute no cramping in the position you’re in. And as if on cue, Joel quietly knocks on your door, waiting for you to invite him in. 
“Come in,” your voice cracks, still groggy from the hours of no speaking. 
He enters softly, clad in that denim button up you love so much paired with some dark washed jeans. “Hi, darlin’,” he makes his way to place a soft kiss to your forehead, your nose, then a longer one to your lips. “How you feelin’?” 
“Better now,” you coo, completely enamored by how soft your big, burly man can be. “Food smells good. You helped them?” 
He’s sitting at the side of your bed now, facing you, so he can rest his arm across you. “Only your old man. Carried in the food as he finished puttin’ em in the trays,” he says as he draws little circles on your arms. 
You hum in response, too content at his presence. Still unable to use your voice, you tug on his arm, silently asking for him to hold you for just a moment before you eventually need to get up. 
“They all left, by the way,” Joel soothes. 
You finally have the strength to lift your head up, a quizzical look on your face. 
“Your brother needed an herb, your dad s’more charcoal, obviously your mother drove ‘em. I don’t know where your other siblings are, though,” he explains. 
“Oh.” You look up at him. “So what you’re saying is,” tugging harder on his arm to pull him into your bed, “you can freely cuddle me until then.” 
He chuckles at that, giving into your pull, and wrapping his hand around your jaw to pull you into yet another sweet kiss. He’s laying down next to you now, and you take the opportunity to completely entangle your limbs into his, your head tucked into his neck. 
Your family is gone for another forty-five minutes from that point on, and you two spend each minute just completely wrapped into each other, sharing sweet, wet kisses everywhere both of  you can reach. His thigh supplying light pressure between yours at your core, spurring you both on just enough but not to the point where you lose all self control. 
There’s something about the way you two can touch each other like this. With past partners, they always wanted things to escalate. To undress you and devour you at any sign of affection. But with Joel, it’s natural. Of course, his body will react in ways that show he physically wants more, but truly, he just wants to adore you and appreciate you and love you. And in the moments where those three words aren’t enough, he shows it in the other pure way he knows how to. 
You’re too distracted being consumed by Joel’s touch, but as sharp as an eagle, he immediately perks at the sound of your family’s arrival. He slowly pulls away, trying to savor the kiss as much as possible. Finally it breaks, and you immediately pull your bottom lip into your mouth, trying to savor the way he feels and the way he tastes. He gives you a look of pure love and devotion—a look you know is only reserved for you, a look you’ll never get tired of. “Time to get up, darlin’.” 
“Ugh,” you whine out, “Okay, I’ll meet you out there. I’m just gonna change, baby.” 
He pulls you up out of bed and straight into another chaste kiss, “Want me to make you tea?” 
“That sounds lovely, baby,” you blush at his attentiveness. You’ve been spoiled rotten by him for the past year, but you still get so flustered every time. “But I think we��re out of what I normally drink-”
He stops you with yet another kiss. “I bought a box of that peppermint blend before I came.” 
You can’t stop the way you absolutely fold for this man, evident in the shaky breath you take and the way you completely stumble on your words, “Y-yeah, o-okay, yes, please.” 
He smiles and nods, walking directly to your kitchen without another second to waste. 
God, he deserves some fucking head right now, you think to yourself as you quietly giggle. 
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You make your way to your bathroom, taking a quick body shower because those several hours of sleep, plus the way Joel was on you for 45 minutes, had you looking like a murder scene down there. You dry yourself off, lotion up, and change into some loose black sweats and a fitted, light blue baby tee. 
You look a lot brighter after your rest; Joel was right in telling you to sleep in, you needed it. Not that you’d ever tell him. He doesn’t need anymore ego boosts. Ya see, what’d I say, darlin’? you can hear his Texan twang scolding you already. 
He looks up from the kettle pot boiling before him to see you perched on the bar stool on the other side of the kitchen island, bright eyed and awake, watching him make your tea. “Thank you again, baby,” you softly say. 
He comes around behind you, setting your mug in front of you accompanied with three soft kisses peppered to the area where your shoulder and neck meet. “Of course, my sweet girl. You ready to eat? Everythin’ is set up out back, and everyone is out there, too,” he sighs, “already eatin’.” He says, annoyed at the fact that no one thought to call and check in on you, let you know that the ritual of eating together already started. You’re used to it by now, but seeing his reaction reminds you that it’s not normal for your own family to treat you this way. You smile a little sadly, trying to think of how you want to go about this. Usually you just wouldn’t eat, but with Joel around, you know that’s not going to fly. 
“How ‘bout,” he says as he wraps his arms around your waist, his head still resting on your shoulder, “I go out there, make a plate big enough for us both, and I come back in and we share?” He could easily get you your own plate, but he knows your family. They’ll jump at any opportunity to shit talk you when they don’t understand the entire situation. Getting you your own plate and serving you when he’s a guest in your own home could inspire that, and he really doesn’t want you to experience that right now. 
You lean into him, turning your head a little to place a kiss to his cheek. “Okay, baby,” you smile, “yes, let’s share.” 
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He comes back inside to you snuggled on the couch again with a pullout table propped right in front. He snuggles up right beside you, placing your legs right on top of his, keeping you secure with a hand on your thigh. 
The plate is filled with a mountain worth of food. You already know three-quarters of that is going down his bottomless pit of a stomach, laughing to yourself at the thought. One thing that wasn’t on the original menu for tonight was on his plate. It also just so happened to be one of your comfort foods whenever you weren’t feeling good. “W-who made the mashed potatoes?” 
Joel looks up at you sheepishly. He thought he’d be able to pull it off. He didn’t just go to the store, before he came, for your mint tea. He also went to get the ingredients for the mashed potatoes recipe you love so much. Within the almost two years he’s spent getting to know you, he’s recognized that every single time you’re feeling under the weather or falling into some type of depressive slump, you’re either eating or craving it. “I, uh- When I went to go get your tea… I figured I’d get ya your stuff for this, too. Made it before I came to wake ya up.” 
“Joel…” your voice cracks and your eyes tear up. 
How is it that after 23 years of life, you’re finally experiencing what it means when someone loves you? And you’re not talking romantic, you’re talking pure, genuine love. Love that you should’ve received from your parents, your siblings. They have never once shown you the consideration of making you your favorite meal, or fixing you a cup of something warm when you’re not feeling well. They have never shown you what it means to appreciate someone, in any of the love languages. The only person that has shown you remotely anything is your mother, but even that is limited because she cowers behind the directives of your father. You see her try, and you feel selfish not to appreciate it. But is it selfish to just want to be wholly loved by the people who created and raised you?  
You pull the fork out of his hands and set it back on the plate. And in an instant, you completely throw yourself on him, your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, legs tightly hugged between his own. He loses his balance and lays straight back onto the couch, letting out a grunt at the landing, with you on top of him. You push into him for a kiss, your noses smooshing together as you lick inside his mouth with a sense of urgency to show him how much you love him. Once the initial shock of you pouncing on him wears off, he immediately wraps himself around you, tightening his hold to pull you in impossibly more. His tongue dances with yours, one arm wrapped around your middle and another secure around the bottom of your ass. 
You adjust to straddle his hips, sitting up and pulling him up with you by the collar of his denim. You break away from him just for a minute, heavy breathing and eyes dark, and you let your hand glide down his chest, swiftly undoing a few buttons of his shirt, making sure to leave a trail of sloppy, wet kisses as you go. You make your way down to his belt, unbuckling it with such a need that he can’t help but just watch you. You slip the belt out of the loops, letting it fall to the ground, and you’re scooting back more to situate yourself in between the tight space of his legs. You palm him through his jeans, feeling how absolutely hard he is, which elicits a deep groan from the man above you. With that, the button and zipper of his jeans are undone. You bring your hands up back to the hem of his jeans, looking back up at him for his approval. 
“Sweet girl, ya know your folks are right outside,” he tries to warn but fails with the way his voice wavers with need. 
You look to the back door that’s twenty feet away, curtains completely drawn, and look back at him. “You and I both know none of them are coming back inside for a while,” you raise your eyebrows in defiance. 
He is truly at war with himself right now. He could let you do what you want, knowing you get off just as much as he does when you give him head. Or he could situate you back to your original positions and finger a few orgasms out of you, and he just pulls away from you if someone were to walk in — the safer route. Or. The safest option being he bids your folks goodnight and you let them know you’re going out for the night. 
Though, the latter would just be too easy. He knows you both revel in the risk, in the act of sneaking around. Which is why he finds himself scooting forward to the edge of the couch, and you take the hint loud and clear. He wants you on your knees for this. He meets your stare once more, both of you sparkling with mischief. “Well? Darlin’? Best get on with it then, huh?” Followed by him lifting his hips slightly so you can tug his clothing down, his tip red and aching. 
“Fuck, yes,” you gasp out, “been thinking about this since you left my fuckin’ room, daddy, I want you so bad.” 
Your admission spurs him on more, and his eyes go impossibly dark. “Go on, darlin’. Prove it to me. Show me how fuckin’ bad.” 
You pull yourself up to stand on your knees for a moment, and murmur a quiet come here to him, urging him to lean in for a second. He pulls closer, stopping an inch away from your face. You open your mouth for him, tongue sticking out and flat. He gets the hint, and before you can even register, his hand is on your jaw, tilting your head back and opening you wider, and he spits. 
You use all your self control not to swallow it right here and right now, desperate to feel any kind of warmth from him slide down your throat. You have other plans right now. You close your mouth and let your own spit generate, absolutely giddy with want to please your man. His eyes are fixed on you, knowing your next plan of action, but still stunned all the same at how fucking filthy his sweet girl is. You pull yourself back, hovering your mouth over his erection. 
You open your mouth and just let the combination of both of you fall from your mouth, sliding down his cock like the sweetest of syrups that you can’t wait to lick up. As the amount of spit starts to really gather, you grab him by the base and start stroking up and down his length, putting extra emphasis on his tip, running your finger over his slit for good measure. He lets out a stuttered groan at that, and you take that as your queue to finally put him in your mouth. Running your tongue in the same pattern your fingers did his tip, making him hiss in your ability to make him fold at the smallest of touches.
You keep this pace for a good while, using your hand in tandem with your mouth, stroking up and down in the speed and pressure that you know brings him to the edge fast. The sounds coming from your throat mixed with the slick feeling of your hand pumping him has your pussy absolutely dripping for attention. Fuck it. You slide your other hand down into your underwear, and begin to play with your clit, not wanting to go any deeper for fear of getting blood all over the place. Joel wouldn’t mind—of course, he wouldn’t—but you would, so you give yourself just enough to ease the aching need between your legs. Your moans get louder now that you’re touching yourself, your throat adding a delicious vibrating sensation to him. 
His eyes were shut at how fucking amazing you’re taking him, but with the sounds you’re making, he can’t help but make sure all his focus is on you. And god damn, when he sees you touching yourself so prettily while you’re being such a good girl making daddy feel so fucking good, he can’t help but cum at the sight. “F-fuck, sweet girl, holy fuckin’ hell,” he breathes, “It turn you on that bad to have my dick in your mouth, huh?” 
You pull off of him with a pop, making sure you keep as much of his cum in your mouth as you can—because there’s a fuck ton—and you fix your stare into his dark eyes as you swallow every last bit of him. “So fucking good, daddy, I-” you break off into a moan, your hand that was pumping him now gripping his thigh to maintain your balance as you continue the ministrations on your pussy. 
“Cum for me, baby, show me how good it makes you feel to be daddy’s little slut,” he demands. You gasp out at his words, that demand being what really throws you over the edge. Your clit pulses underneath your fingers, you feel yourself gush out, your blood and cum making you feel impossibly messier, and with that, your body goes rigid. 
Joel leans forward and grabs onto your jaw, keeping you upright while you come back down from your high. You’re so far gone that you don’t realize he’s peppering your face with kisses, uttering sweet nothings until you’re back with him. He gently pulls your hand from your pants and settles them into your lap.
“I’ve got ya, baby,” he kisses your lips softly. 
“My sweet girl,” he kisses your jaw, “I love you,” another kiss at your pulse point below your ear. He feels your body begin to relax. 
“Atta girl, baby,” he whispers before reaching down and settling his other arm underneath your legs, positioning himself so he can pick you up in a cradle position. He stands and carries you to your bathroom, settling you on your feet for one moment so he can pull your sweats and underwear off of you. He guides you down onto the toilet, kissing your forehead and muttering a quick one sec, baby before he steps out. He comes back two minutes later, and you’re still in subspace but slightly more grounded, and he kneels down in front of you, instructing you to lift one foot at a time. 
He went to go get you a new pair of underwear and some gray sweatpants. He already stuck another pad to your underwear, too. The action fills you with such an overwhelming feeling that you can’t help the tears that roll down your flushed cheeks. He looks up, knowing everything you’re saying and feeling by your gaze alone. He cups your cheeks with both hands, rubs his thumb to wipe the stray tears, and kisses your forehead, your left eye, then your right, your nose, and finally your lips, all in an attempt to seal every ounce of love and adoration he has for you.  
“I love you,” you finally say, leaning your forehead against his, and just take a moment with his hands on you. He pulls back again with a kiss to your forehead, and he grabs the wipes on the counter, encouraging you to lean back a bit, so he can clean you properly. 
“Wait, no,” you meekly say, trying to grab the wipes from his hands. He knows you get embarrassed at the fact that he sees you a little gross like this, and you know he truly doesn’t care. Usually he relents and lets you do it yourself, but tonight, he’s doing everything for you whether you like it or not. He raises one eyebrow at you, and that’s all you need to bring your arms back down in defeat. You lean yourself back a little, spreading your legs open, and let him clean you up. 
When it comes to other activities during your period, you usually are uncomfortable. But with Joel? With him, you don’t mind. You actually love it. It’s in moments like these that remind you how irrevocably in love you are with this man.
Afterwards he stands you up, pulls your bottoms on, and turns you towards the sink and washes your hands for you. He really wasn’t kidding at how easy he wanted you to take today.
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He carried you back to the couch and wrapped a fluffy blanket around you. You threw yourself on him in the middle of your guys’ meal, so after he settles you into the couch, he transfers your shared food to a real plate instead of paper and warms everything up. He does the same to your peppermint tea. 
After everything is warmed, he settles back onto the couch beside you, pulling your legs up onto his thighs and holding you above your knee to secure your position. You go to reach the fork, but Joel is quick to swat your hand away, taking the fork and feeding you a bite of your mashed potatoes instead. 
“I told you,” he scolds, “to take it easy today.” 
You frown, “And I have been! You’ve literally been taking care of me since you got here.” 
He sets the fork down, reaching for your tea and lifting it up to your mouth. He’s not gonna respond until you take a sip, which was much needed as your belly immediately calms at the heat. You take one more sip as he begins, “You pouncin’ on my fuckin’ dick was not takin’ it easy.” 
You cough on the fucking liquid still traveling down your throat. You were not expecting that to come out of his mouth. You try really hard to will yourself not to fucking burst out in laughter because you know how serious he was with this statement. So instead, you settle for your typical smart ass remark. “It wasn’t?” You asked. “Seemed real easy to me,” you add as you take the fork from his hand and take another bite of the yummy food before you. His eyebrow shoots up and you give him a lopsided smirk in return. 
“Watch it, sweet girl,” he says as he brings his hand up, thumb and forefinger pinching at your chin to force your eyes into his. He gives you a bruising kiss, one that entices him to bite at your bottom lip as he pulls away. You can feel yourself slipping again. He’s not done with you, he’s just giving you a moment to refuel. 
“I’ll be good,” you softly whimper as you chase for his lips. “I’m not so sure about that,” he responds as his grip on your chin gets tighter, forcing you stationary and a few inches too far from where you want him to be. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes gloss over as you whisper out a small I promise, to which he says, “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll make sure of it.” 
He lets go of your face completely and continues feeding you, alternating between the food and your tea. As the next bite he prepares for you reaches your mouth, something that has never happened before decided to occur. Your mother comes inside the house, and her first sight as soon as she came in was you, completely wrapped around Joel, and him feeding you. 
Your jaw freezes, his grip on your leg tightens out of instinct to protect you, and it’s a staring standoff between the three of you. Joel doesn’t realize he’s still holding the fork up until his hand starts to shake, so he gently sets it down on the plate. It’s you who speaks first. “Mom, I-”
But it’s your mother who wants the first word. The first two words, actually. “How long?” 
Your heart is beating out of your chest, and the only thing keeping you from full blown panic is all the ways you’re in physical contact with Joel. “I can explain, mom, I-”
“Flower,” she says to comfort you. She’s not mad? you think. Your heart immediately calms, but now you’re just confused. Growing up, your mother always called you her flower. She used it predominantly when she wanted to help you regulate. You’ve always been full of anxiety and other strong emotions. Flowers are strong and beautiful, and show exactly when they need support. And when they are given the support they need, they flourish. That’s you. You are a flower. Her flower. But now she can see, there’s someone else tending to you. And she is not mad. 
“A year and some change,” you softly say. She looks between you two. Then she steps forward. “Look,” she breathes. “I know our family hasn’t been the best in showing love or appreciation. And they obviously haven’t been the best at fending for themselves-”
“Amen to that,” you say, and she chuckles in appreciation. She continues.
“Thank you, by the way. For everything you do around here. We both know none of it would get done around here if it weren’t for you. I try to help you as much as I can, but obviously not enough. If you can pull everyone’s weight around here, which you shouldn’t have been doing in the first place, then I can at least pull my own and whip them into pulling their own, too.” 
Your eyes are watering, and you take a deep, shaky breath. Joel feels it. He brings his hand around to rub small circles into your back. You’re so grateful he’s here. “I love you,” you say to your mom. 
“I love you, too, flower, but I’m not done. I also know that I’m not too great at using my voice. Defending what’s right. But you’re the one person in this family that’s given me the inspiration to fight for what I believe in. You give me strength, and constantly seeing this family pull you down lower and lower as the years go by breaks me. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.” 
Tears begin to fall, both on your face and your mom’s. 
“And in this last year, and some change, to be exact,” she smiles as she recalls your answer from earlier, “you have been the most vibrant flower of the entire garden. In the gloominess of this house, you continue to grow, and I’ve been dying to understand what changed. And now I see why. And I have never been more grateful for another human—the first one being you—until he entered your life.” 
You and Joel both look at each other, his eyes have a hint of gloss to them now, too. 
“So,” your mother says as she reaches for the tissue box on the counter and walks back to hand you the box. “I won’t tell a soul. It’s not my story to share. And remember. I will always have your back. Always. I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel comfortable enough to tell me about such a beautiful relationship, but we’re here now and I need you to know that I will forever support what makes my flower happy,” she looks to Joel, “and that’s you. I will support both of you until my flower decides on something different.” 
Joel’s face turns into a scowl, half joking and half pissed at the thought of you leaving him. “Which, I have a feeling isn’t gonna happen, so you can calm yourself, Mr. Grumpy Pants,” your mother adds after seeing his boyish reaction that would normally scare anyone but you, and apparently your mother. 
You lose your shit at his new nickname, and all the emotions just flow out at once. You pull yourself off of Joel and run into your mothers arms, needing her comfort. She holds you like that for a few seconds before she says, “Okay, go, I think Mr. Grump needs your comfort now. Absolutely no way I’m doing it.” You laugh and squeeze her one last time before she grabs something in the kitchen and heads back outside. You make your way back to Mr. Grump, straddling his lap. Before she opens the back door, though, she calls out your name. 
“Yes, mom?” 
“I’ll cover for you, hon,” she says nonchalantly as she goes back outside. 
You and Joel stare at each other for a moment, too shocked to take action on the opportunity that just presented itself to you. Then, it finally hits. You pull him into a kiss that’s downright feral, your hips grinding down on him on instinct. “Take-” you say as you try to break away from the kiss, but you’re too drunk on him to completely pull away, “t-take me home, baby.” 
He grunts in response, and stands up with you completely wrapped around him. He heads for your front door. 
“Baby, Baby, wait, not here,” you say breathily as you go back in for another quick kiss, “through the garage.” He looks confused for a second before he remembers. The front door camera. The left side of your driveway being the camera’s blind spot. Immediately he reroutes.
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You would think the first thing he does is bring you to his bedroom, but no. He sets you on his couch, molding your body into his signature position for you that makes you sit on your heels, palms up on your thighs. He could’ve easily told you he wanted you in position, but again, he told you to take it easy. 
Although the position almost always forces you into subspace, you’re confused and coherent enough to question him, “Baby..?” 
He steps back, looking down at you with his eyebrow raised, “Don’tcha remember, sweet thing?” 
“You pouncin’ on my fuckin’ dick was not takin’ it easy”, he said. 
You promised you would be good. 
To which he assured you, “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll make sure of it.”
He sees the moment it clicks in your head, and immediately his hold is on your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He leans down, his lips ghosting over yours. He whispers, “Color?” Still demanding but with a hint of softness to it. You tilt your head further back, trying to make your lips touch him more, “Green,” you say. 
He pulls your chin into him and kisses you, slow and sweet, his tongue tangling with yours. He pulls away, breath slightly shaky, but he composes himself quickly and stands straight up, letting go of any contact with you. 
His couch is either really low to the ground, or he is just one big motherfucker. Either way, you sitting on your haunches on his couch like this while he stands straight up in front of you makes your head in direct eye line of his crotch. And you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from it. You see his tent forming, and you’re smart enough to realize what lesson he’s about to give you. 
“Told you to take it fuckin’ easy today,” he says as he slowly unbuckles his belt, “didn’t I, baby?” 
“Yes, daddy,” you say quickly, not wanting to piss him off more. 
“But ya didn’t,” his belt falls. “Did you?” 
Your spit thickens. “No, daddy.” 
His belt is on the floor, and he’s reaching to undo his button and zipper. “My good girl was jus’ too fuckin’ eager to have my dick in her mouth, hm?” 
You lick your bottom lip, catching the drool you didn’t realize was pooling out of your mouth. Like Pavlov’s fucking dogs, he’s got you trained. You let out a whiny mhm in response, already completely blissed out at the prospect of what’s about to happen. He settles for it, this time. 
He pulls his jeans down, just enough to pull himself free. He leaves his boxers up for now while he explains. He walks closer to you, his hardness one lick away from you, and forces you to look up at him again. “You’re gonna take my cock in your mouth again, sweetheart,” he says. 
You eagerly cut him off, “Yes, please, thank you, daddy, I-”
He shuts you up by pushing his thumb in your mouth. “But you’re not gonna move or do anythin’, besides sit prettily for daddy,” his grip on your jaw tightens, “ya understand me?” He slides his thumb out and spreads your spit across your bottom lip and down your chin. 
“I understand, daddy,” you say, your eyes completely glossed over. Out of instinct, you fold your hands behind your back, signaling to Joel your complete submission to him. 
“Such a good girl when you remember how to be patient,” he says as he stands back to his full height again. He gets impossibly closer, crowding your face. He pulls his boxers down, and his erection springs free, the tip landing against your lips, smearing the pre-cum across it. It takes everything in you not to lick it up—you can’t, he needs to give you your next instructions. He hears your silent pleas, and as he settles his hand at the back of your head, fingers grounding themselves into the roots of your hair, he tells you, “Open.” 
Knowing how rough Joel can get, you take a deep breath, relaxing your throat, and you open wide, your tongue laid flat out, slick with the drool that’s been forming since the noise of the belt buckle hit your ears. 
His other hand is holding himself at the base, guiding himself into your mouth. He taps his tip on your tongue a few times for good measure, before pushing himself all the way in. You feel your gag reflex coming, but you take another deep breath through your nose, urging your throat to relax a little more. It does. He pushes slowly in until your nose is flush with the patch of hair above his length. All you wanna do is unclasp your hands and reach for his thighs to pull him into you tighter, wanting to engulf his scent into you, but you can’t. All you can do is take what he gives you while sitting pretty like the good girl you are. 
He starts to pull back a little, and that naturally makes your throat contract, forcing a groan out of him and more saliva out of you. He lets go of himself, and now both hands are on you. He taps your cheek, asking you to look up at him. “Hands behind the entire time. Any touch on my thigh signals red to me, okay?” 
You nod your head as best you can with his grip on you and let out a little moan for good measure. At your signal, he completely and utterly wrecks you with no hesitation. And you take it exactly as he gives it, just like you promised you would. 
The more he thrusts, the more spit that builds, leaking from your mouth and down your chin. Your eyes are shut at the feeling of him abusing your throat, but he won’t have that. You feel his other hand not tap your cheek twice. Your eyes fly open and land on his dark ones. “Those eyes stay on me,” he grunts out at a particularly rough thrust. You whimper out at his words, trying to convey your apologies for doing something that could make him mad. “No, it’s alright, darlin’,” he says, his pace never faltering. “I- fuck- wasn’t specific enough,” he grunts, “but ya know what I expect now,” his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. “Isn’t that right, pretty girl?”
Your eyebrows furrow and try to emphasize with your eyes that yes, eyes on you, daddy. He understands. “Atta girl, baby,” he breathes out, pulling out momentarily to give you a breath. 
You choke out a little as he pulls out. He softens, concern laced in his voice, “You okay, amor?”
“Yes,” you say weakly, “I promise, please. W-want more..” You open your mouth wide again, tongue positioned perfectly for him to slide back in. 
His eyes fall dark again and there’s that signature lopsided smirk. He guides himself back into you, completely, and his hand from your cheek glides down to wrap around your throat. “Shit, amor, you feel that?” He squeezes at the base of your throat. “I’m all the way fuckin’ in there, baby,” he says, falling back into a rough pace, feeling the outline of his dick glide in and out of your pathway. “You’re takin’ me so-” he lets out a pained grunt. He’s close. “-so fuckin’ good, shit, baby.”
Your throat constricts again, and that feeling is what sends him over. For the second time today, all of your senses are being consumed by everything Joel: his taste, his smell, his touch, the downright sinful sounds that grace your ears, and you take it all in, eagerly. Both hands release their hold on you as he pulls out of your mouth, and you’re quick to lean into his hips. His hand shoots back to the nape of your neck, pulling you back like a mother does to her puppy.
“You’re fuckin’ insatiable, you know that?” he says, out of breath, still trying to compose himself from the soul-sucking he just took from you. You give him a blissed out giggle, “You jus’ taste so yummy, daddy.”
“Yeah?” he asks, amused. “Well, so do you, babygirl, so it’s my turn now.”
Immediately your ears perk up and your body goes rigid. The thought of him giving you head with the flow you have right now doesn’t sit right with you. “Yellow,” you shakily whisper.
He lets go of the back of your neck and falls to his knees to match your eye level. “Oh, honey,” he cups your face, “Please tell me how to make it better. Do you wanna stop here, mi amor?”
Your body relaxes at his instant reaction. You’ve only ever had to use a safe-word with Joel twice. Today, included. And in each rare moment, he does what every caring partner and proper Dominant should: validate, comfort, and communicate. He has never given you any reason to be scared or feel disrespected. This is Joel we’re talking about here. You’re safe in his presence, always. The thought puts you at ease, but it also makes you feel a little ridiculous at using a safe word for something that could easily be communicated without it. 
“Wait, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you or anything, it’s something so tiny and stupid, I should’ve just communicated instead of going straight to the code-” you quickly start panicking as you ramble on, but he’s quicker. He pulls you off the couch and into his lap, holding you in a tight embrace, knowing the pressure is what helps pull you away from your panic attack. He’s muttering it’s okay, you’re okay and I’ve got ya, as he kisses the top of your head. As soon as he feels your body relax in his arms, he speaks. “Darlin’ girl, please look at me.” You do, teary-eyed.
“I completely forgot you were on your period. I was too in the moment, and I had a lapse in judgment in my words. I’m sorry. You should not be the one to apologize, ever, if you’re ever in an uncomfortable situation like this. The safe words are there for a reason, okay? Use them. They are there to keep you safe, always. Thank you for speakin’ up, my love.”
You nod your head at his words, too emotion-filled to respond with anything else right now. The only thing you can offer is a whisper of a “Thank you, I love you,” but that’s enough for him. 
He gives you a soft kiss to your lips. “How would you like to continue, beautiful girl?”
You think for a moment, and the way that his hand feels wrapped around you starts to make your arousal build again. All you can think of are his big, calloused hands all over you. In your mouth. On your thighs. In your warmth. Screw the bloody mess, he doesn’t care. You squirm at the thought, and he feels you falling back into your space again. His cock stirs beneath you. He tightens his grip on you to coax you out of your thoughts. “Fingers,” you squeak out, your cheeks flushing red instantaneously. He grins, but his eyes stay fixed on you, hinting at you for something more. Then, it clicks. “P-please, daddy, need your fingers in me,” you say, voice trembling with need. 
“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” he says as he pulls your thighs around him and brings himself to full height. He leads you to his bed, setting you down on the edge with a kiss to your forehead and a quick one moment, sweetheart. 
He leaves to return back with a large bath towel and lays it across the center of his bed, dark blue to match his sheets. He situates pillows for your head and leaves a smaller one out, just in case. You feel his weight shift the bed, and he’s walking toward you on his knees. You lean into his touch the moment his hand makes contact at your lower back, and he’s guiding your shirt off of you. He takes that same arm, wrapping it around your waist, and leans down to situate the crook of your knees over his other arm. He’s carrying you up higher to the center of the bed, completely removing any opportunity for a thought to run through that head of yours. He wants you focused on nothing but the way he’s going to make you feel. 
Once you’re laying down on your back, he makes his way down, placing soft kisses on your belly and all over your thighs while he slides your bottoms down your legs. Once you’re completely bare, Joel situates himself in a way that he’s never done before. He lays next to you on his side, shoulder propping him up, so his hand is underneath your head and he’s still looking down at you. He grabs onto your thigh closest to him, and he hooks your leg atop of his, opening you up. 
The level of intimacy and vulnerability of the way you two are positioned against one another has your mind reeling, absolutely aching to be consumed by him. Joel is always sweet and soft with you, but this is completely on another level. It doesn’t feel motivated by a feral need to rip each other apart. The motivation lies in the pure need to feel. To feel you against him, consumed in the entirety of love and raw emotion. To feel him against you, filling you with a genuine intimacy and devotion you both know only he can provide you.
He brings his other hand up to gently cradle your face, and he leans in to slot his lips against yours, his tongue running along your bottom lip, swallowing the faintest of whimpers that slip from your throat. Your hand slides to the back of his neck, keeping him close, deepening your dance of lip and tongue. His hand drifts away from your face and takes his time to grasp and show attention to the rest of your body. 
He takes one of your breasts in his hand, massaging it with a care that causes your fingers to curl tighter in his hair. He shows the same attention to your other one, then flattens out his entire hand to run down your sternum and belly, positioning his hand on the pathway down for his middle and ring finger to be the first that make contact with your sex. 
And when it does, neither of you can hold back the groan that leaves your mouths. He’s too enamored by you to let his lips leave yours, but you have a feeling your filthy-mouthed man would make a comment about how wet you are for him. You know you’re right when he completely bypasses your clit and down to your entrance, eager to get his fingers covered in you, so he can spread it all over you. 
You pull away for a moment, both of you out of breath and pupils completely blown. “You see how good you make me feel, daddy?” His fingers reach your clit again. “I’m so fucking wet,” you moan out, “and it’s all because of you- all for you, daddy.”
“Baby, please,” he grits out, his fingers leaving your clit after a few more circles, dipping into your entrance with ease. “So fuckin’ good to me, but fuck, stop talking,” he breathes, hips involuntarily thrusting into you, “need you to soak my fingers first, amor.”
You shoot him a smile that gives him butterflies, and then you’re pulling him back in, needing to feel him everywhere he can possibly manage. 
The pace of his fingers are perfect, constantly hitting the spot that’ll get you there in no time with the heated sensation of lips. His hand behind your head moves down and wraps underneath your waist, pulling you in flush with his body. He needs to feel every part of you. Your leg closest to him—the one hooked around his leg—comes off of him, and now you two are completely laying on your sides, facing each other. 
His fingers leave you for a moment to hike your other leg up and around his waist, your pussy inches away from his center. His fingers find you once more, and the angle is impossibly deeper. You’re whining out now as you rock your hips against his hand. He knows you're close with the way your breath shakes. He reaches his thumb up to circle your clit, and you break away from his lips, throwing your head back at an instinct, exposing all your sweet spots for his mouth to reach. As his hands continue working you to the edge, he gives you the final push when he latches at the base of your neck where your shoulder meets, and he litters the area in wet kisses and painfully delicious bites. 
Oh, fuck, daddy, yes,” you moan out, your vision going white and your body going rigid. Your climax hits you so hard that you don’t realize his fingers left you, your thighs still convulsing and hurtling you through your high. You can faintly hear Joel, muttering his sweet whispers, as he always does. 
“Oh, fuck, that was so fuckin’ sexy, baby.”
“You’re beautiful, yanno that?”
“I love you, my pretty girl,” he places a kiss right atop your heart.
Still, your mind is floating somewhere in narnia, so he understands when you don’t reply right away. You’re not even completely back from your orgasmic haze when he pulls his boxers completely off, throwing them somewhere in the room, and his aching cock is resting against your core. 
“Darlin’ girl,” he brings his hand up to guide your limpless head to look at him, “I need you to use your words f’ me, honey, please give me a color,” he says, the softest you have ever heard him. 
You give him the smallest smile back, but it’s so full of love and admiration. You’re lightly nodding your head yes, trying to will your vocal cords to respond. “G-gre..” you let out.
He stops you with a kiss, “Okay, honey, okay, that’s all I needed,” and another kiss, “Can I give my baby what she so desperately wants now?” 
The prospect of the sensation your body is about to go through because of him ignites a fire in you. It forces you to come back down from your haze, so you can register every second of him in his entirety. Your neck straightens and your eyes open fully, pupils blacker than he’s ever seen. “Yes, daddy, please give it to me,” you say with a neediness more than anything. His lip quirks up in a smirk. “What my baby wants, she gets,” and he’s pushing your hips into him as he pushes into you, his tip notching at your entrance. You hiss, reveling in the stretch he gives you regardless of how much he works you open. 
There’s a stigma with Dominants that they are always so calm and collected, always composed and never in a state of neediness and desperation like their submissive counterparts. However, that’s simply not true. In every please, in every whimper, in every cry; in every orgasm, in every act of brattiness, in each use of the honorific; in every demonstration of pure submission: there is a Dominant, willing themself not to give in and give their partner everything they need. There is a Dominant about to break because one more plea from the submissive’s mouth has them ready and willing to forgo every single plan they had for that particular scene. 
And that’s exactly what Joel does here. He had a plan for you, even after you used your yellow code, but with the way he’s wrapped around you tonight—you have the power. You’re calling the shots. He exists simply and solely for you and your pleasure. Nothing else matters. 
He bottoms out, and both his arms are wrapped around your waist, both of you completely aligned with one another. “How do you want me, baby?” 
“I don’t care,” your forehead falls into his, “I just need to feel you, please.”
With your words, he’s thrusting into you with a calculated intention. You needed to feel him, you said. So he pushes in not too fast but not too slow, and hard. He buries himself to the hilt every single time, and it’s like he put you in a trance. Your eyes softly shut, trying to stay open to look at him; your eyebrows are pulled together; and the only sounds falling from your mouth are moans and whimpers and sweet nothings only he’d be able to decipher with your babbling. You feel everything in this angle, with his rhythm. You feel every vein, every ridge, you feel his tip kissing every sweet spot inside of you while simultaneously stealing the oxygen from your lungs. He feels so fucking good. Your leg hooked around his waist squeezes tighter on instinct, and he groans at the feeling. Seeing you completely desperate and at his disposal nearly finishes him right then and there. 
Your hand is at its usual spot for tonight, wrapped tightly in the curls at the base of his neck. You're meeting his thrusts now, and it heightens the sensation tenfold. Both your breaths are hot and heavy, mingling into the thick air of Joel’s bedroom. You’re nearly at the edge again, you both are, but you need a little more of a push. “Baby, t-touch me, please,” you say with more breath than your actual voice. He sounds absolutely pained, “I got’cha, baby, I got’cha.” His hand leaves your waist, the other tightening around you to compensate for its absence, and his fingers are back on your bundle of nerves, circling at the same rhythm that he’s pulling in and out of you. 
A gasp leaves your throat, and every part of you that’s wrapped around him pulls him in impossibly tighter, “fuck, just like that, fuck, please don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop,” you ramble on in an almost incoherent whine. You can feel your words and sounds spurring him on as his cock twitches inside of you. He’s close, too. Then it clicks, you realize what you meant earlier when you said you needed to feel him first.
His fingers speed up and so do his hips. “C’mon, darlin’, such a good fuckin’ girl, give it to me, soak my fuckin’ cock,” he grunts out, now chasing his own release. 
Not stopping your movements, you unravel your arms from him and you push down on his chest, pushing him onto his back. You’re on top of him now, your movements only faltering momentarily as you situated yourself to straddle him. You grab both his arms, the one working your clit and the other on your waist, and you bring them up above his head. You pin them there with your own hand, your body leaning over him and adding to the momentum as you bounce on him. “No,” you say, almost a growl, “Need you inside me first,” sucking his bottom lip. 
He fucking whines. “Need you inside me first, then I’ll give you what you’re looking for.” You switch off into a grind of your hips, moving back and forth as the feel of his pubic hairs rub against your clit causing your pussy to flutter on him. He feels it and his hands flex to move from your grip. Your hold on him tightens. You have the power. You lean down, licking a pathway up his neck and making your way near his ear. You whisper, “Stuff me full of you, daddy, and I’ll fucking soak you, I promise.”
“Fuck!” He growls as your hips speed up, and now he’s the one seeing stars. His face and neck flush into a bright red as he floods you with his release. And as if right on queue, the warmth and the feeling of him in you and seeping out of you is what finishes you. The constant stimulation on your clit from his pubic bone along with the angle his dick continues to prod at, you’re creaming and soaking him, just like he wanted. His thighs and even the area below his belly are drenched with the mixture of your guys’ fluids, and he can’t help but gawk at the scene before him. 
You are completely surrounded by the product of your two’s arousal (plus a bit of blood, but he doesn’t care), you continuing slow grinds as you work yourself through your orgasm, and the way that your head is thrown back in pure bliss—he’s entranced by it all. His cock is nearing the line of painful overstimulation with you still on him, but he really can’t find himself caring enough to get your attention. 
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He thought he would never be into giving up his dominance, his yearn for control. But now that you’ve given him a taste at what you’re capable of, fuck, he feels downright insane if he didn’t want more of it. 
You realize he may not be used to the oversensitivity as much as you may be trained for, so you bring yourself to a halt and slowly slip off of him. You bring your eyes to meet his, and you can’t help the giggle that leaves your mouth, seeing the goofy, blissed out grin on his face as he looks at you. You lean towards his head and give him a sweet kiss to his lips and his nose, and you softly tell him that you’ll be right back but to stay here with a slightly more demanding tone. 
You quickly go pee in his en suite bathroom and wipe your bottom half down. You grab a pair of his boxers he leaves for emergencies under the sink (you let out a little chuckle at the fact), and grab a pad from the box he also leaves under the sink, for you, and stick it onto his underwear before shimmying it up on you. You grab another washcloth and soak it in warm water and walk back to the bed. You sit yourself up next to him and start wiping him down. As soon as you finish, you try your best and throw the washcloth, aiming for the sink of the bathroom, but you fail, miserably. It lands with a wet plop on the side of the toilet, centimeters away from landing in the toilet’s bowl. “Eh, that’s good enough,” you say to no one in particular as you nudge him to bring his hips up so you can take the towel out that he placed earlier to catch any of your blood drippings. You place it in the hamper, then you bring yourself to lay back down, cuddling into Joel. 
He turns so you both are facing each other again. His head propped up on his hand. His other hand runs up and down everywhere he can reach. 
“W-was what I did at the end there… was that okay?” you ask meekly as you slowly bring your eyes up to his. 
He lets out a hearty laugh, shoulders shaking. You weren’t expecting that kind of reaction. “Honestly,” he says as his fingers come to a stop and he just lets his arm wrap around you lazily. “I was really shocked when you flipped me over, but then,” he pauses for a second. Really just to spur you on more than anything. “I was so fuckin’ turned on and achin’ for you. I’d just about let you do anythin’ to me if you treat me like that, darlin’,” he says as he leans down to place a kiss to your lips. 
He pulls back and your gaze is away from him and your cheeks are as red as he was earlier. A shy smile paints your face. He brings his fingers up to your chin, “Oh, come on now, no point in gettin’ all shy on me now is there, my dirty girl?”
You give him the best reprimanding face you can muster (which he finds beyond adorable), and you parrot a common phrase he uses with you when you’re a brat, “Watch it, big boy.”
He laughs at your antics, but you see his cock twitch at the pet name. Your eyebrows shoot up. “Joel!” you say, actually reprimanding him this time, but you genuinely don’t know what for. 
His hand shoots to cover his mouth, an attempt at stopping his burst of laughter at your reaction. He lets go of his mouth after a moment and pulls you closer to him. He places kisses all over your face while you both giggle and let yourselves fall from your high together. 
He abruptly stops his kisses to look at you. He doesn’t say a word. “Yes?” you ask, curious of that mind of his. 
“Ya know how much I love you, right?” he asks, genuinely. 
“I think I’ve got a pretty good hint, baby.” 
“Good,” he says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 
“And I love you so much, you do know that, right?” you offer as you bury yourself into his chest, inhaling his musk mingled the faint aroma of you.
He repeats your response back to you. You smile in his chest. It’s you who places a kiss atop his heart this time. 
You both stay wrapped up in each other for a few more hours before your tummy begins yelling at you for sustenance. Though, until that happens, you two lie in each other’s arms, wondering what you did to deserve such an all-consuming, raw and genuine love. 
Your mother was right. You really were the brightest flower in the garden, and it was all because of your big, macho man, who was actually as soft and cuddly as the clouds that bring water for the garden. Ever since he entered your life, he made sure those clouds poured all their attention on you. Giving you all the water and nutrients, all the love and care that you would ever need. 
Forever. 
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End note: Thank you so much for reading! As always, your support is always always appreciated. There's no amount of words to describe how grateful I am for how much love I receive from you all. You're all too amazing. Feedback is also greatly appreciated, whether it's praise or constructive! Anything and everything helps me to be the best writer I can be. I love you all so very much💚💚💚
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